분야
hwp Manhattan.
New York.
U.S.A.
In any discussion of
contemporary America...
... and how its people live, we must
inevitably start with Manhattan.
New York City, U.S.A.
Manhattan, glistening modern giant
of concrete and steel...
... reaching to the heavens
and cradling in its arms millions.
Seven millions.
Happy beneficiaries of the advantages and
comforts this great metropolis has to offer.
Its fine, wide boulevards facilitate the
New Yorkers carefree, orderly existence.
A transportation system second to none
in passenger comfort.
Quaint little sidewalk caf
make for leisurely, gracious living.
For its nature lovers,
the peace and privacy of a day in the sun.
The city offers delightful changes
in climate.
Well, Ill tell you.
Jim Blandings is part
of the fabric of this town.
Born and raised right here, hes as typical
a New Yorker as anyone youll ever meet.
At least, he was.
If you wanna know the real story, I guess
Im your boy. My names Cole. Bill Cole.
Im Jims lawyer and "best friend."
Jims one of those bright young fellas
you see around.
College graduate, ad business, lovely wife,
two fine kids, makes about a year.
Jim and Muriel Blandings are just like
thousands of other New Yorkers:
Modern cliff dwellers.
The morning it all started was just another
of those crisp September mornings.
And the Blandings were still asleep.
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
- Betsy?
- Okay, Dad.
- Joan.
- Okay, Dad.
No. Good morning, Theodore.
- Good morning, Mr. Blandings.
- Good morning, Gussie.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Looking for something?
My socks.
Why dont you look in your sock drawer.
Thats where I found my underwear.
- Well, try your underwear drawer.
- I am in my underwear drawer.
Well, they must be somewhere. Socks dont
get up and walk away by themselves.
Muriel, I thought we had it
clearly understood that these two...
Two and a half top drawers were mine.
I thought... Why do...?
The closet. Thats where they are.
We put them in the closet.
- Put what in the closet?
- Your socks.
- There wasnt room in the drawers.
- Theres a lot in the closet.
So Gussie and I decided that from now on
wed keep them in a basket on the shelf.
Basket.
This? This.
Jim, dear, I do wish youd try
to make a little effort.
Ill try, dear.
Father, just one morning,
I wish youd knock.
I beg your pardon.
Washcloth, dear.
Thank you.
Towel, dear.
- Lf you dont mind, dear.
- One moment.
Take your time.
I can spare the blood.
- Did you cut yourself?
- I cut myself every morning.
I kind of look forward to it.
- Why dont you use an electric razor?
- Cant get used to them.
Silly.
- Bill Coles been using one for years.
- He hasnt got my beard.
- Bills beard is just as coarse...
- I am not interested in discussing...
...the grain and texture of Bill Coles
hair follicles before Ive had my breakfast.
All I said was, why dont you use
an electric razor?
Because I prefer the clean sweep
of the tempered steel as it glides smoothly...
No advertising copy, please.
- And hurry up. Youll be late for breakfast.
- Yeah. Sure.
- Who did it? Yes?
- I did.
Havent I repeatedly told you not to cut up
the paper until Ive read it?
Im sorry, Father.
Its necessary research.
What? Another of Ms. Stellwagons
so-called progressive projects?
Coming through, Theodore.
Does Theodore have to have breakfast with
us? Cant you take him to the living room?
Dear.
Why send your children to
an expensive school...
...if you undermine the teachers authority
in your dining room?
Im not undermining anything.
Im in the advertising business.
Keeping abreast of the times is important.
So is your childs education.
- Thats not the point.
- It certainly is.
- Not.
- Bicker, bicker, bicker.
You drink your milk.
Joan, every time Father and I have a lively
discussion, we arent necessarily bickering.
What is it, Betsy?
Another English composition?
Ms. Stellwagon has assigned us
to take a classified ad...
...and write a human-interest theme on it.
I found one typical of the disintegration
of our present society.
I wasnt aware of the fact
our society was disintegrating.
I didnt expect you to be, Father.
Ms. Stellwagon says middle-class people
like us are prone to overlook...
Muriel, this is asking a lot,
but just one morning...
...I would like to sit and have breakfast
without social significance.
You must take more interest
in your childrens education.
Cant squeeze blood from a turnip.
All right. I listen.
- Shoot.
- Its just words.
Im going to call it
A Minor Tragedy of Our Times.
Well?
"Forced to sell.
Farm dwelling.
Original beams.
Barn.
Apple orchard.
Trout stream.
Seclusion.
Superb view.
Will sacrifice."
- Go on.
- Thats all.
- Thats all?
- You dont see it, do you, Father?
A fellow wants to sell his house,
he puts an ad in the paper.
Whatd you expect him to do,
take it to the United Nations?
Theres more to it than that,
isnt there, dear?
Certainly, Mother. What some people
dont see is the whole sordid picture.
A poor, honest farmer
pushed to the wall by hardship.
Until finally,