Up in the Air (1940) Movie Script

[music playing]

Oh, Frankie, where

have you been?

I got caught in a traffic jam.

[whistle]

Boy, look at that

new receptionist.

She's a honey.

You'd better forget about

her and put your uniform on.

You know how Mr. Carl

is about us being late.

Yeah.

Plenty of time, my

boy, plenty of time.

Now, if you'll excuse me?

Good morning.

-Good morning.

May I help you?

Yes, would you see if there's

any mail for me, please?

Perhaps, you'd better

tell me your name first.

Yes, of course, Ryan.

Frankie Ryan.

What's yours?

Anne Mason.

No, there's nothing

for you, Mr. Ryan.

All right, thank you.

Say, you're new

here, aren't you?

Uh-huh.

Just started this morning.

From out of town?

Uh-huh.

Well, which is it?

Singer or an actress?

Oh, singer.

I've always wanted

to be in radio,

and this is as close

as I could get.

But how do you know all this?

Oh, well, you see,

all our employees would

like to be on the air,

but, well a lot of them

are pretty good too.

But well, you see, most of them

just don't get an opportunity.

Singer, huh?

Say, has anybody

auditioned you yet?

No, not yet.

Well, we'll have to take

care of that right away.

Right away?

You mean right now?

Why, sure.

There's no time like

the present, you know.

Well, what about my job here?

Oh, well, that can wait.

This is important.

You see, the radio field is

always open to new talent,

and well, yours might be just

the voice we're looking for.

You're very kind, Mr.

Ryan, but I don't think I--

Oh, no, no.

I won't take no for an answer.

Come on.

Uh, Stella, you watch

the desk, will ya?

We're going to

audition Miss Mason.

You're what?

You heard me,

audition Miss Mason.

Right this way, Miss Mason.

Well, of all the--

Mr. Frankie, I can't.

I gotta the jitters

plum down to my toes.

Suppose that--

-Well, what's the matter, Jeff?

You're doing fine.

Now, come on, try it again.

Are you sure this is

all right, Mr. Ryan?

Of course, it's all

right, Miss Mason.

Jeff is just worried because

we're using this office instead

of the regular audition room.

It makes no

difference where we is.

If that Mr--

Jeff.

Are you ready, Miss Mason?

Yes.

Nervous?

A little.

Oh, well, that's only natural.

We're all that way at first.

All right, Jeff, go ahead.

well, good luck.

Go on, Jeff.

[MUSIC - MARJORIE REYNOLDS, "BY

THE LOOKS OF THINGS"]

Wow, ain't that something.

Mr. Frankie.

Say, you have got a voice.

That was great.

Oh, thank you.

I'm glad you liked it.

Like it?

Why, say with a

voice like that,

you've got no business

behind a reception desk.

I can see you now, a star.

Your name--

We're all gonna be seeing stars

if we don't get out of here.

That Mr. Farrell--

I thought I'd find you here.

Up to your old

tricks again, huh?

This ain't my idea.

I know who's idea it is.

Oh, Mr. Farrell,

this is Miss Mason.

She's got a wonderful voice.

The greatest you've ever heard.

Well, how do you

do, Mr. Farrell?

How do you do?

And don't try to

evade the issue.

Why aren't you in uniform,

and why aren't you at work?

You took the words

right out of my mouth.

Well, we didn't mean

any harm, Mr. Farrell.

That's not the point.

One more shenanigan like

this, and you're gonna

find yourself out of a job.

-Yes, sir.

-Now, get busy.

See if you can find Miss Wilson.

She's holding up the rehearsal.

Yes, sir.

Right away.

I'm terribly

sorry, Mr. Farrell.

I didn't know.

It wasn't your

fault. I know that.

Well, then I won't lose my job?

Of course not.

Well, thank you, Mr. Farrell.

Not at all.

Mr. Farrell will call you

when he wishes to see you.

Anne, have Rita Wilson

report to Mr. Hastings

as soon as she comes in.

All right.

FRANKIE: Miss Wilson, please.

Oh, page.

Page, front please.

Oh, page, when Miss

Wilson comes in,

have her see Mr.

Hastings at once.

It's important.

Look, Anne, will

you forget about--

That will be all, page.

Nice work, honey.

You sure put him in his place.

Well, he needed a lesson.

But he is kinda cute.

Excuse me, Miss Wilson.

What is it?

Mr. Hastings would like to see

you in his office right away.

That's all for today.

Some other time.

And Mr. Farrell is waiting

for you in Studio A.

Tell Mr. Farrell

I'll see him as

soon as I talk to Mr. Hasting.

Yes, ma'am.

But you must be sensible, Rita.

I am being sensible, BJ,

Just the way I like to be.

Sure and at my expense.

Now, you listen to me Rita.

You listen to me, Sam Quigley.

I've been pushed around

by you two long enough.

Either I get my way, or I quit.

That's final.

But you can't do that.

Oh, can't I?

Well, you just watch me.

Now, now.

Let's be calm.

Let's not lose our

head's about this thing.

I'm surprised at you BJ,

getting her all upset like this.

Well, when she told--

Now, now, I'll

take over from here.

Now, Rita, why can't

you be a good girl--

I am a good girl.

Well, you know what I mean.

Give up this silly

idea of leaving

us for the Denti Glow people.

Haven't we made you happy here?

No.

We gave you a raise

in salary, didn't we?

So what?

So-- we pay you as much

as any sponsor can afford.

What do we have to

do to please you?

Why, hasn't Mr.

Hasting told you?

Told me what?

What is this, BJ?

Well, you won't like it, Sam.

She wants her salary doubled.

She-- doubled?

And that's only the beginning.

Look, Sam.

She wants the right to chose her

own producer, announcer comic--

Stop.

That's enough.

Are you out of your mind?

Nobody's worth that money.

The Denti Glow

people think I am.

You mean they agreed to that?

All I have to do is put

my name on the dotted line.

Now, Rita, you

can't do this to me.

I can't afford it.

Well, you better do it, Sam.

You'll be the laughing

stock of radio

if she signs with some

other toothpaste account.

You don't have to tell me that.

I know it.

Think it over, Sammy Boy.

And don't keep me

waiting too long,

or I might lose my patience and

sign with Denti Glow anyhow.

And you said you would

bring her into line.

Why didn't you do it?

After all, it's your program.

Yes, and costing

me $15,000 a week.

And for what?

It's got the best rating

of any show on the air.

And you've still got Rita.

Oh Rita.

Who cares about Rita?

There are plenty of

singers as good as her.

You can buy 'em

for a dime a dozen.

The woods are full of them.

But she's got the name.

Yeah, and the glamor.

Not for me, she hasn't.

But she has for 20

million radio listeners.

And if you think

I'm going to let

a rival toothpaste manufacturer

cash in on it, you're crazy.

All right.

All right, Sam.

I'll take care of it.

Now, don't worry.

I don't intend to.

How's that "Blue Moonlight"

number for Timex, Farrell?

Well, I don't know, Dick.

Mr. Farrell, I'm not

getting enough strings.

Oh, all right.

Dick, have the brass

hold down a little bit.

The fiddles are in the mud.

Hey, when do we start?

Just a minute, Ted.

And incidentally, while

you're on your feet,

how about digging up some new

gags for that script of yours.

What?

Go back on Joe Miller

after all these years?

Not a chance.

Look, if those gags were good

enough for my grandfather,

they're good enough for me.

What's the idea of rehearsing

the show without me?

What we're doing doesn't

concern you, Rita.

Doesn't concern me.

I like that.

The whole show is

built around me, that's

how little I'm concerned.

Would you mind stepping

outside with me a minute, Rita?

I want to rehearse your

lines with you, privately.

What's the matter with you

and the prima donna, Martin?

I thought you two

were pretty chummy.

Ah, forget it.

She looks through you like

you weren't even there.

I said, forget it.

OK.

Oh, hi, fellas.

Say listen, I got a

great new gag for you

for the Pearly Dance Show.

-OK.

Shoot.

All right, look, one

fella says to the other,

he says, you're so dumb I

bet you don't know what kind

of skin shoes are made out of.

Now get this, the

other guy says, no,

but banana skins would

make good slippers.

All right?

Huh?

All right.

You can't rule me

out for trying.

Page.

Mr. Farrell wants to see

you in Studio A, page.

Oh, look Anne, can't

you lay off of that.

I was only trying to help you.

Yes, you almost

helped me out of a job.

Look, I can explain

everything if you'll

only have lunch with me.

-Well, I--

Yes, sir.

I'll tell him right away.

On your horse, Frankie.

Yeah, OK.

Well-- well, how about it Anne?

Well, I'll think it over.

Aw swell.

Look, meet me in Studio

A as soon as you're off.

Hey, boss, we got a

terrific gag for you.

This I'll murder you.

Don't tell me it's the gag

where Rita Wilson breaks

her leg and has to be shot.

No gag could be that good.

Now get this, you're so dumb,

I bet you don't know what kind

of skin shoes is made out of.

No, but banana skins would

make pretty good slippers.

Ain't that a lark?

Just a gag for the snapper.

Hey, mister, you

can't go in there.

Why?

I'm not going to hurt nothing.

I know, but that's a

rehearsal and ain't nobody

allowed in there but

people in the show.

Well, maybe I'm on the show.

I know you ain't in the show.

I know everybody

that's in that show.

You can't go in there.

You can't--

Listen, Banjo Eyes, I'm

going through that door--

Mr. Frankie, tell this

gentleman he can't go in there.

Wait a minute, cowboy.

What seems to be the trouble.

Well, I ain't aiming to

horn in on nothing, buddy.

I'm from Olgalla, kind of a

stranger around these parts.

I ain't never seen a

big broadcast before.

Oh, well, this is

not a broadcast.

It's just a rehearsal.

Oh, that don't

make no difference,

just as long as I can see some

of them big stars at work.

You reckon I could kind

of go in there and watch?

Well, I reckon maybe you can.

But look, you got to sit

in the back and be quiet.

I won't make a sound.

All right, come on.

Hey, Jeff, you come

on with us too.

But Mr. Frankie, why me?

Well, I want to show

you how easy it is not

to be afraid of a microphone.

Oh, Mr. Frankie,

it ain't easy for me

not to be scared of nothing.

You know that.

Come on.

All right, I'll go.

Now listen, go right

there and sit down

and don't make any noise.

Say, has anybody

seen Mr. Farrell.

He sent for me.

He's out on the roof.

Tell him to hustle

it up, will you?

We got to time the Wilson spot.

-Right away.

There's no argument.

I simply want the

script changed.

That's impossible

and you know it.

We can't rewrite the script

at the last minute like this

simply because you don't

happen to like the comic.

I can't stand that man.

It's impossible for me to

sing under such circumstances.

Now look, Rita, as the producer

of this show, my reputation

is at stake and you're

not going to ruin it.

You'll sing all right,

and you'll like it.

[clears throat]

FRANKIE: Excuse me.

What do you want?

Well, Mr. Martin is ready

to time Miss Wilson's song.

OK.

All right, Bob.

I'll sing.

But you won't like it.

Frankie, stick around

till after rehearsal.

I want to talk to you.

Yes, sir.

All right, let's go.

Places, everybody.

Ready and waiting, Bob.

We'll pick it up on page 10 ,

the tag on the Wallace routine.

I've made some changes.

That'll be an improvement.

Quiet everybody.

We're timing this.

What's the idea

of running around--

Hello.

Didn't take you very

long to get here.

My feet got hot, so I

turned the hose on them.

Oh, I get it.

Farrell, huh?

Don't be silly.

You're so dumb, I'll bet

you don't even know what kind

of skin shoes are made out of.

No, but banana skin's would

make pretty good slippers.

My gag.

Will you please lower this?

Stop the music.

What's the matter

with you, Rita?

Can't they wait

until I'm ready?

Oh.

Well, are you ready

now, Miss Wilson?

Yes.

All right.

Start it again.

[MUSIC - LORNA GRAY "DOIN' THE

CONGA"]

HASTINGS: What happened?

Find the switch.

Turn on the lights.

[gunshot]

[rita screams]

Somebody get those lights on.

Something's happened to Rita.

She's been shot.

Somebody watch that door.

See that no one gets out.

Well, do something.

Don't just stand there.

Get a doctor.

Never mind a doctor.

You better get the coroner.

This girl's dead.

Dead?

Let me out of here.

Coroner's on his way up, Morty.

What do you make of it?

Whoever shot her knew his

business, that's a cinch.

Plugged straight

through the heart.

No powder burns.

You know that gun was

fired out there someplace.

Lights out too.

That's fancy shooting.

Yeah, too fancy.

All right, boys,

I won't need you.

You can beat it.

Are you sure nobody

left this studio

while the lights were out?

Why yes.

Or after they came back on?

You can see for yourself.

We're all here.

I don't see anything.

Who's we?

Why--

That's right, Lieutenant.

Nobody could get out of

here, even if they wanted to.

No?

Why not.

Well, you see the

doors lock automatically

from inside the control booth.

That's for rehearsing

and broadcast too.

It keeps out anybody--

Right now I'm only interested

in who they keep in.

Is he telling the truth?

What do you mean am

I telling the truth?

I'm asking him.

All right.

He's right.

Well, in that case, the

murderer is still in this room.

Oh, that's preposterous.

These are radio people.

Broadcasting is sacred to them.

Why they wouldn't think--

Of course, they wouldn't.

I'm stupid not to

have realized that.

It was suicide.

When nobody was looking, she

tiptoed over and switched out

the lights, shot herself,

swallowed the gun,

and then trotted right

back there to die.

That's not what I meant.

Well, if Rita Wilson didn't

swallow the gun, who did?

Just hold your horses, bud.

I'm coming to that.

Delaney, find that gun.

It's around here somewheres.

OK.

FRANKIE: 10 to 1,

you don't find it.

No?

Tell me, why not?

Well, because I've looked the

place over from top to bottom

before you got here.

And of course, you

searched everybody too.

Well, no.

I-- I guess I forgot that,

but-- holy smoke, the cowboy.

What cowboy?

Tex, the singing cowboy.

He might carry a gun.

Hey-- hey,

Lieutenant, he's gone.

Oh, he won't get far.

Wait here, Delaney.

Come on, Jeff.

Excuse me, y'all, please.

Wait a minute.

If he used the elevator,

we'll take the stairway

and cut him off.

-OK.

Let's go.

Is this a routine?

You should write

up a funnier one.

Hey, Farrell.

Quote.

If you were a smart

producer, you'd hook this up

and shoot it out over the air.

The top [inaudible] program to

come out of this madhouse yet.

Unquote.

You must have been

out of your mind.

What-- what do you mean?

You know what I mean.

-But I didn't--

-Shh.

Keep your voice down.

You're safe.

Hey, Miss, did a

cowboy just leave here?

Why, yes, Tex Martin.

He just walked out.

There he goes.

Hey, come back here.

[police siren]

You shouldn't have

done that, mister.

You're liable to hurt

somebody doing that.

Where do you

think you're going?

Back to the hotel, I reckon.

Oh, you was, eh?

Well, sure, I didn't

figure that killing

was any of my business.

Brother, you

don't know how much

that killing is your business.

There's nothing on him, Marty.

There's nothing here, boss.

All right, what

did you do with it?

Do with what?

You know, the gun, the one

you killed Rita Wilson with.

Oh, you've got me all wrong.

I don't pack no gun.

Them things are dangerous.

Suppose somebody got killed?

Somebody did get killed.

Well, see what I mean?

ABC regrets to announce that

the Pearl-a-Dent program,

usually on the air at this

time, will not be heard tonight.

An unfortunate

incident this afternoon

took the life of

Miss Rita Wilson,

knows to millions as

the Pearl-a-Dent Girl.

Miss Wilson was shot down

by an unknown assailant

during a studio rehearsal.

[jazz music plays]

FRANKIE: Oh, that's fine Jeff,

but can't use that on the radio

JEFF: No?

FRANKIE: No.

You see we have to--

oh, hello, Mr. Farrell.

Oh, I was afraid

you'd gone home.

No.

That cop Marty

help everybody up.

You want to see me?

Yes.

I'd like to talk

to you, Frankie.

Oh.

Oh, I get it.

I'm fired, huh?

Excuse me, Mr.

Farrell, I'll see you

all later, if you don't mind.

No, on the contrary, I-- I

came to ask a favor of you,

if you don't mind.

Well, sure.

Go ahead.

Shoot.

Well, you overheard

Miss Wilson and me

having a bit of an argument

this afternoon before the--

That's right.

Well, it-- it didn't really

mean anything, Frankie.

As a matter of fact,

there was nothing to it,

but you can understand

how that sort of thing

might look if taken

in the wrong light.

Yeah, sure.

I understand you.

You mean, it might get

you in a mess, huh?

Yes.

There'd be a lot of

embarrassing questions

and, well, you realize that

with my reputation as a producer

I couldn't afford to.

Oh.

I'm way ahead of you.

You mean you want me

to keep my mouth shut.

Yeah.

Yeah, that's right.

It's all right with me.

Doesn't mean anything to me.

I knew you'd see

it the right way.

Thanks a million, Frankie.

I won't forget it.

Oh, Mr. Farrell.

Yes?

Say, who you going to get

to fill Rita Wilson's spot?

Well, I-- I hadn't

thought about it.

It's a little early for

that, don't you think?

Yeah, but look, when

you do think about it,

will you keep Anne

Mason in mind?

She's got a wonderful voice.

Certainly.

Thanks for reminding me.

As her to come and see me.

We'll talk about it.

-Right.

-Good night.

Good night.

I'm sure glad you

didn't come out first.

Say, what that Mr.

Farrell man want?

Is you in trouble again?

-No.

No.

He just invited me over to his

house for a game of checkers.

Checkers?

Now, ain't that something.

Mr. Frankie, one of these days

you going to try me too far.

Well, look, pull yourself

together, will you?

We've got a lot of work to do.

I want to go over this

knew routine of ours.

But Mr. Frankie, between me

working here in this studio

all day and running around

all night helping you,

well, I ain't getting no sleep.

Well, a growing boy like

you doesn't need any.

I know.

But just growing

wears me to a frazzle.

Look, you got your script?

-Oh, I got that right here.

-OK.

I got to get

something for a mic.

Mic?

Does you have to?

Are you still scared

of a microphone?

Every time I see one of

them things I get the jitters

all inside of myself.

Well, look, we gotta

break you of that.

Now, look at that microphone.

That ain't no microphone.

That's a mop.

I know.

But look, can't you

pretend it's a mic?

Now, go on, look at it.

Now, you still scared?

Oh, Mr. Frankie,

how do you expect

for me to be afraid of

something that's closer to me

then my own brother?

Yeah, I never thought of that.

Wait a minute, I got an idea.

Uh oh, I don't like

to looks in your eyes

when you say you got an idea.

That means trouble.

I got just the thing.

Uh oh, whatever it is,

I ain't going to do it.

I ain't going to

do it, Mr. Frankie.

No sir, I ain't going to do

it, because right there is

where Miss Wilson got killed.

-Quiet down, will you, Jeff?

What do you want to

do, wake the dead?

Wake the dead?

Mr. Frankie, ain't I

got enough on my mind

without you putting

ideas in my head?

Jeff, do you mean to

tell me you're actually

afraid of Rita Wilson's ghost?

It ain't the ghost, it's the

person that made her a ghost.

That's what's bothering me.

Boy, you're terrific.

Come on, let's

rehearse this thing.

We want to get out of

here sometime tonight.

Go ahead.

Mr. Frankie, I've

been thinking.

Uh oh.

I don't think I want to be--

FRANKIE: Now, wait

a minute, Jeff.

There's nothing the

matter with you,

you're just afraid

of that microphone.

That's all.

-That ain't all.

Where's--

Well, now look, you want

to be a success, don't you?

You don't want to be a

janitor all your life.

Well, at least I get

paid for being a janitor.

Well, sure you get paid.

Yeah but look, if you're on the

radio, think of the glamour.

People clamoring for your--

Now-- now wait a

minute, Mr. Frankie, that

lady Miss Wilson had glamour.

Look at her now.

That work is too dangerous.

You tell me something,

will you, Jeff?

What would you do if you didn't

have anything to be scared of?

What I would--

Never mind.

Look, let's rehearse this thing.

We want to go home

sometime tonight.

Well, if I've got to,

I've just got to do it.

Well then start

reading, will you?

Mr. Frankie, it's

your first line.

Oh.

Yeah, that's right.

All right, you ready?

No, I'm ready.

Morning Rastis, How you feel?

Morning, Moe.

I sick.

Sick?

Boy, you is always

complaining about--

Mr. Frankie.

You don't expect me to

speak in no dialect, do you?

No, no.

You read yours just plain.

You're the straight man.

Oh.

Now that's different.

Come on now, let's start again.

Morning, Rastis, how you feel?

Morning, Moe.

I-- I sick.

Sick?

Boy, you is always

complaining about--

Mr. Frankie, it's a

little hot in here.

Let's go outside, huh?

Yeah, it is kind of warm.

No, wait a minute.

I'll fix the ventilator.

Oh.

No wonder it won't work.

Hey, Jeff, come here, quick.

Yes sir.

Look in here.

Goodness, is that a gun?

Yeah.

Must be the one that

killed Rita Wilson.

Pretty smart, huh?

It was probably put in there

while the lights were out.

A gun and me ain't got no

business in the same room.

I'll see you.

Uh oh.

Hey, Jeff, wait a minute.

Hold the phone.

What are you two doing in here?

Well, we were just--

What's that?

The gun you've

been looking for.

Oh, trying to hide it, eh?

Ah, now, wait a minute.

You certainly live up your

reputation as a cop, don't you?

You suspect everybody.

It's my business

suspecting people.

Where did you find it?

Come on over here

and I'll show you.

Right there in that ventilator.

Must have been put

there after the murder.

Ah, no wonder we

couldn't find it.

How do we know you

didn't put it there?

Yeah.

How do we know he

didn't sneak back here

tonight and try to

grab it off when

you thought nobody was around?

We caught you right

in the act, didn't we?

Now wait a minute.

Settle down.

Where do you get that stuff?

It's a good thing you used

your head and picked this gun up

with your handkerchief, because

if your fingerprints are

on it--

-And what if they are?

Now, wait a minute now.

Where y'all going to take us?

-Police headquarters.

What for?

We didn't do nothing.

Look at that.

And that.

Well, we've got let you go.

Yep, it wasn't

your fingerprints.

Well, don't have to look

so disappointed about it.

Mr. Lieutenant, do that

mean that we is free again?

Did we ain't murder?

Well, to an extent, yes.

But don't leave town.

No, sir.

Well, what makes you think

we'd want to leave town?

Well, you've nosed out

all the other answers.

Try dipping your

beak into that one.

Now, listen, Marty.

Don't call me--

All right, all right.

Lieutenant.

Come on.

Paging Mr. Waters.

Mr. Waters in studio B, please.

Oh, hello, Tex.

Hiya.

FRANKIE: Paging Mr. Waters.

Well, good morning, Tex.

Morning, Miss Anne.

My you look happy.

Get some good news?

I sure did.

Mr. Farrell's going to let me

audition for him this morning.

Oh Tex, that's wonderful.

It's about time

you had a chance.

You've waited long enough.

Well, we both have, Miss Anne.

Maybe you'll be next.

Well, I hope so.

Good luck, Tex.

Ah, thank you.

Well, that cowboy don't

waste any time, does he?

What do you mean?

Well, he's always

hanging around

you, always talking to you.

What's he want, anyhow?

I think that's none

of your business.

Oh, well pardon me.

But if you must know, he was

telling me about his audition.

Audition?

For who, Farrell?

Yes, Page.

Mr. Farrell is going to

hear him this morning.

Oh, Mr. Farrell, is it?

Well, I guess that

puts me in my place.

Well, you asked for it.

Yeah.

Paging Mr. Waters.

Any mail for us, beautiful?

Oh, I'll see.

Oh, hello, Mr. Pringle.

Listen, I got another

great gag for you.

Stow it, kid.

We ain't buying gags anymore.

We're off the air.

Off the air?

Yeah, Wallace

quit this morning.

But he couldn't--

Ah, but he did.

And now we're on relief.

Ain't that cute?

Gee, I'm sorry.

But look--

Watch your job, kid.

We might start angling for it.

No mail, Mr. Pringle.

Thanks.

So long.

Good luck.

Hey Anne, did you hear that?

Well, what about it?

What about it?

That means they need a new

comic to the Pearly Dent Show,

doesn't it?

-Yes.

-Well?

Well what?

Frankie, not you.

Well, who else?

Why not?

Look, Jeff and I have got a

swell comedy act worked up.

Does Mr. Farrell

know about this?

Well, no, but don't you worry.

It's in the bag.

Well, just make sure you

don't wind up in the bag.

Keep your fingers crossed.

Say is he kidding?

[MUSIC - GORDON JONES "OH, BURY

ME NOT ON THE LONE PRAIRIE"]

Nice, cheerful little diddy.

Yeah.

Now I know why they

call them lone cowboys.

Heard enough?

Plenty.

[MUSIC - GORDON JONES "OH, BURY

ME NOT ON THE LONE PRAIRIE"]

That'll do, Mr. Barton.

Thank you very much.

Well, I'm not through yet.

I got a lot more to do.

Well, we've heard

all that we require.

We'll let you know

if we can use you.

How much more of this torture?

One more coming up.

Presenting the two

Blackbirds, Rastis and Moe.

Hey, what goes on here?

Morning, Rastis, how's you all?

Morning, Moe.

I sick.

Boy, you is always

complaining about something

that you ain't even

got and couldn't

have it if you did have it.

Boy, I got it.

You got what?

A kind of a feeling

that starts--

I had that once.

You mean the kind of a

feeling of starts in the head

and walks around--

That's it.

Yeah?

What you doing for it?

Well, I seen myself a doctor

and he give me a bottle of--

Don't take them,

they'll kill you.

Now, why don't you try--

I tried two boxes of them.

They didn't do me no good.

Then why don't you

go see a doctor--

That quack?

I had him.

You see, he's one of

these kind of doctors--

Yeah, yeah I know I know.

Well look, in that case, what

you need is a cutting doctor.

You know, a sturgeon?

A man who can cooperate on yous.

You know, one that takes a

knife and he cuts you here--

I had mine taken out last year.

Oh, you did, huh?

Well look, what

else do you think

maybe could be wrong with you?

Well, you see, I

thought maybe it was--

Oh no, no, no, no.

You all wrong.

Couldn't be that.

Now look, why don't you try

some of them pills, you know,

that my brother took when

he was suffering from what

he caught when he was--

Was he out there?

I thought all the time

he was going to go--

Yeah, he did.

But he done come back.

What's he doing now?

Well, you see,

he's working again.

Where?

Well, he's got a job.

And boy, do you know

he's making a salary of--

That ain't no money at all.

Yeah, I know, and

that poor devil,

he's fixing to get married.

Look here, Mr. Frankie.

You've got to talk slower if

you want me to keep up with you.

I can't talk that

fast, Mr. Frankie.

Who is he going to marry?

Well, don't you know?

He's going to marry

the daughter of--

She's a nice girl.

All right.

Break it up, you two.

What's the matter, boss?

I thought we was

doing pretty fine.

You know better then to

try a stunt like this.

Well now, just a

minute, Mr. Farrell--

You think I wouldn't recognize

you behind this stuff?

Don't touch me.

I don't rub off.

Ah, Frankie.

This is taking things

a little too far.

After all, I agreed

one audition, but not--

Yeah, but Mr.-- I

mean, Mr. Farrell,

we knew you needed two new

comics for the Pearl-a-Dent

Show, so we just thought that--

Uh oh.

Here come that man again.

Sorry to bust in like this.

Not at all.

Were you-- were

you looking for me?

Tex Barton.

They told me he was here.

Well, uh, he just

left here, Lieutenant.

Who's he?

Who's who?

You.

Frankie, don't you remember?

What happened to you?

Fall in a coal bin?

Yeah.

I think I did.

You should have

passed him in the hall.

He must be in the

building somewhere.

Thanks.

Hey Lieutenant, wait a minute!

Hey, Marty.

My name's Lieutenant Phillips.

Don't forget that.

Yeah, OK.

What did you want

with Tex Barton?

Were those his

fingerprints on the gun?

Don't know yet,

but it was his gun.

We got a wire back

on the serial number.

Well-- well then

he's the killer.

Well, you can't tell.

He did time back in Cheyenne.

Used the same gun in a shooting

scrape over some woman.

What's her name, Delaney?

Wharton, Gladys Wharton.

Yeah, that's it.

Oh.

Thanks a lot, Marty.

I mean Lieutenant.

Come on, Delaney.

Wharton, Gladys Wharton.

Oh, Jeff, have

you seen Frankie?

Yessum, there he is.

-That?

-Yes.

And it's not funny.

Here Frankie.

Take these contacts over

to Mr. Hastings office

and wait for an OK.

Right.

Come on, Jeff.

Say, now's a good time to

sell our act to Mr. Hastings.

Yeah, but we've

already been beat

to him once by Mr. Farrell.

Oh, quit beefing.

Come on.

Wonder what this is all about.

I don't know, but this

ain't no place for me.

Come here.

Pull yourself together.

Something's all wrong.

Where's Mr. Hastings?

Don't look at me.

I ain't got him.

Come on, Jeff.

Let's take a look around.

Tex Barton.

Jeff, he's dead.

I'm glad you left

that door open.

We interrupt this program to

bring you a special bulletin.

Death once again

stalked the halls

of amalgamated

broadcasting company

today, striking down Tex

Barton, cowboy troubadours.

Detective Lieutenant

Marty Phillips,

in charge of the investigation,

believes the crime

to be the work of the

mysterious assailant who

less than 24 hours before

took the life of Rita Wilson,

beautiful ABC singing star.

What bothers me is why in

an institution of this size,

nobody heard the shot

when gun was fired.

Oh well, that's

easy, Lieutenant.

Yeah, with you

everything is easy.

Well you see, all these

rooms are soundproof.

Well, that could

account for it.

Which reminds me, how does it

happen you're always on deck

every time a murder's

committed around here?

Well, coincidence I guess.

Yeah?

Well, men have been

convicted and hung

on the strength of coincidence.

Don't forget that.

And you say you

two were auditioning

at the time of the murder?

Yes.

That's right.

And you claim you were in

his office across the street

when it happened?

Yes.

Yes I was.

That's right.

We were looking

over some contracts.

I can prove it.

That leaves you, Ms. Mason.

I know.

You were listening to the

Swing Parade broadcast.

But I--

And you can prove it.

Where were you?

I-- I was in the

coincident with Mr. Frankie.

Well, if this ain't as neat

a set of alibies as I've

ever heard.

Well, it'll be off

and now you can go.

But don't anybody

leave this building

without checking with me first.

And don't try anything funny.

And that goes double for you.

Yes sir.

Oh, Frankie.

Look, you-- you won't

say anything about--

Oh no.

Don't worry about that.

Oh fine.

But listen, don't you

forget Anne's audition.

Oh that's right.

I'll tell you what, you--

you have in the audition room

in half an hour and

I'll hear her then.

That's the stuff.

[MUSIC - MARJORIE REYNOLDS

"SOMEHOW OR OTHER"]

Not bad.

Very good.

Well, she's all right.

[MUSIC - MARJORIE REYNOLDS

"SOMEHOW OR OTHER"]

Was I all right?

Honey, you can

sing for me anytime.

Quigley doesn't sign

you up, he's crazy.

Crazy, am I?

Like a fox.

That girl is great.

I'm going to sign her up.

Oh but, Sam she's a green kid.

She's had no experience.

Well, that's what

I like about her.

Get her in here.

OK.

Oh, gee, Anne.

That was marvelous.

You were great.

You sure was, Ms. Anne.

You sing that like

nobody's business.

Oh, I hope so.

You think Mr.

Farrell will like it?

Well, how can he

help but like it?

Well, Anne, you're in.

You made it.

-Really?

Yes.

Mr. Hastings just called.

What did I tell you?

He and Mr. Quigley would like

to see you in the clan's room

right away.

-Well, come on.

What are we waiting for?

Hey, where do you

think you're going?

Well, with Anne.

Oh, well what?

I'm her agent.

She's the greatest

discovery I've ever had.

Yes, I know, Frankie.

But under the circumstances,

don't you think

you'd better me handle it?

Oh, but gee, Mr. Farrell--

I think maybe he's

right, Frankie.

Oh.

Yeah sure.

OK.

Good luck.

I guess we got the brush off.

how do you like that?

How do you like that?

But Mr. Frankie.

Wait.

How do you like that?

I arranged for the whole

audition, I get her all set.

What happens to me,

yeah, I'm a smart guy.

I wind up behind the eight-ball.

Is you talking about me?

No.

Jeff, I'm through with women.

Absolutely through with

them, especially singers.

That's the best

idea you had yet.

Cause singers don't last

long on this network.

No, sir.

You said it.

But you know, Jeff, gee I'd hate

to see anything happen to Anne.

I mean like--

Like what happened to

Miss Wilson and Mr. Tex?

Yeah.

You know, somebody has

to catch those killers.

Looks like it's going

to have to be us.

Yeah, not so heavy on that us.

You go find them killers.

Them killers ain't finding

me, and I ain't giving them

no help by finding them first.

Jeff.

I've got it.

We've got a date.

I got a date right here with

a broom and I'm gonna keep it.

No, you haven't.

Go on, change your clothes.

Does I has too?

Go on and change your clothes.

Am I going to have

trouble with you?

Changing clothes, sir.

Stella, have those

cops left yet?

Well, I haven't

seen them, Frankie.

Look, have you got Tex

Barton's home address there?

Sure.

Give it to me, will ya?

Well, now, look, Frankie,

this isn't another one

of your brain storms?

-Never mind that.

This is an important.

Well, it's Room 203

at the Walsh Hotel.

Swell.

Thanks a lot.

Come on.

Oh my goodness.

Tex killed in Mr.

Hastings office.

It just don't make sense.

Don't none of it

make no sense to me.

Well, if Tex did kill Rita,

who killed Tex and why?

Why ask me riddles,

Mr. Frankie?

Why should I know?

I was just thinking out loud.

Uh oh.

Say, you don't suppose

Mr. Hastings could have

killed Tex or Rita, do you?

I don't think so, cause Mr.

Hasting is an awful nice man.

Yeah, that's the

way I had it figured,

but I don;t know, the finger

seems to point to him.

But Mr. Frankie, If you don't

be careful, the finger's gonna

be pointing at you, and--

If I could only get my

hands of one good clue.

Like what, for instance?

Like getting a

line on that girl

that Tex was mixed

up with in Cheyenne.

What was her name?

Gladys Wharton.

I don't know the lady.

Well, I'd like to.

I think she's the answer to

the whole shooting match.

That's one answer I

don't want to know.

Well, if my hunch is right,

we're about to find out.

Here it is here.

[WHISPERING] Uh, Mr. FRankie--

Sh.

203.

This is it.

If you ask me, we's it.

There's nobody in.

How can you expect Mr. Tex

to be home if he's dead?

I wasn't thinking

of Tex, stupid.

Did it ever occur

to you that somebody

else might have the same idea?

But if anybody

else ain't got it,

the idea must not be no good.

I'm going.

Now, wait a minute.

This is the break

I've been waiting for.

We're going in.

Ain't that trespassing?

And besides, ain't

the door locked?

Yeah, but this skeleton

key is the answer to that.

You always got the

answer to everything.

Come on

Mr. Frankie, you got me in

here, now what's I gonna do?

Now, look, get busy.

If I know Marty Phillips,

he won't be long in finding

this place himself.

You examine the bed.

I'm gonna look

through the drawers.

Yes, sir.

You never can tell

what you'll find.

Might be something big.

Looky here.

Tex's suitcase.

Boy, let me at it.

Oh, them ain't

nothing but papers.

What did you expect

to find, a dead body?

Well, wouldn't nothing

surprise me lately the way

we been going.

I done got plum scared to

open my dinner bucket anymore.

Hey, listen, if these papers

are what I think they are,

it's better than finding gold.

Mr. Frankie, you sure got

a funny sense of value.

Looky here.

Now, ain't that something?

Anne's picture.

Then my eyes didn't

fool me after all.

Look at that.

A telegram too.

I can't believe it.

Yet they tie up, the

picture, the telegram,

she must be Gladys Wharton.

Well, you don't mean to say

she killed that cowboy, do you?

Oh, Jeff, I don't

know what to think.

Looks bad.

Look, don't you say anything

to anybody, not even Anne.

Oh, you know me.

You know, if she

did-- well, if she did,

she must have had a good reason.

You know, Jeff, we've

got to help her.

Yes,sir.

Greetings, kiddies.

I know it was gonna happen.

I know it.

I suppose this is

a coincidence too?

Well, no, not exactly.

You see, we kind of

liked Tex so we thought

we'd come up in his room

and gather up the things

and, well, send them home.

Sure.

I know.

A very noble gesture.

You wanted to help

him so much you

tore his room apart doing it.

It's robbery, all right, Marty.

No doubt about it.

It's as plain as the

nose on you face.

But-- uh.

Marvelous, Delaney.

Sometimes I wonder

what I'd do without you

around to tell me these things.

Yes, sir.

All right, kids, spill it.

What did you find?

We didn't find anything.

I just thought that--

Well, suppose you start

thinking of a nice cozy room

behind bars,

because that's where

you're going to wind up if

you don't start talking fast.

Well, what makes you

think we found anything?

That look on your face, like

the cat that ate the canary.

You ain't kidding nobody.

OK.

You win, Marty.

And my name's Lieutenant

Phillips, not Marty.

Oh, holding back evidence, eh?

Anne Mason.

And a telegram from

Gladys Wharton.

Very interesting.

You wouldn't be trying to

protect your little girlfriend

now, would ya?

Well, uh, no.

That's my picture.

She gave it to me.

Get away.

This belongs to the state now.

In the case of the People

versus Gladys Wharton.

What do you mean?

I mean, for my money, Anne

Mason murdered Tex Barton.

Bring them along, Delaney.

Hey, wait a minute, you

know, Jeff and I didn't

look this place over very good.

Aren't you gonna look around and

see if we overlooked anything?

Yeah.

I think you got something there.

They locked us in.

Break it open.

Open this door!

Anne, Anne, wait a minute.

Oh, Frankie, I've got

the most wonderful news.

Never mind that.

Listen, I got to talking

to you right away.

Come on out on the roof.

Go on, Jeff.

Well, what's the

matter, Frankie?

What's wrong?

-Everything's wrong.

Marty's wise to

the whole shebang.

Wise to what?

I don't understand.

That picture and the

telegram, he found them.

What picture?

What telegram?

Oh, you know, Anne, the

picture you gave Tex Barton.

Oh, that.

Oh, that?

Listen, you're on a spot.

Oh, don't be silly.

I knew Tex before.

He'd work with some of

the smaller radio stations

and when he heard

I was out of a job,

why he took my picture around.

Well, look, that's

all right with me,

but you're going to have a hard

time making Marty believe it.

Don't you realize, he

thinks you killed Tex.

And he's coming up here to

make an arrest right now.

Well, that's awful.

Well, I can't believe it.

You better believe it,

because he's not fooling.

He sure ain't, Miss Anne.

But my contract,

I just signed it.

Forget about your contract.

The best thing for you to do

is to get out of here as quick

as you can.

Find a place to hide--

And I know just the place.

The county jail.

You're under arrest, Miss Mason.

Or should I Wharton?

And I'm taking you

along with her.

Me?

What for?

For locking me in that room.

OK, Marty, we'll go with ya.

But you're sure gonna

look like a chump

when the papers tell how we

made a monkey out of you.

Come on.

Don't worry, Ann, we'll do

everything we can for ya.

Now, there's a guy that's a

credit to the police force.

It ain't fair, Mr. Frankie.

Here it is way past my dinner

time and I'm starving to death

and there you is reading a book.

All right, be quiet, will ya?

I'll be through in a minute.

That's what I've been

telling my stomach

but it keeps on arguing.

Here's one, look.

Robert Farrell, radio

producer, formally in New York.

Well, no Cheyenne.

He's out.

No, he ain't.

I just seen him come in.

Look, look at this one.

BJ Hastings, radio executive,

formally owner of WRW

in Cheyenne, Wyoming.

Jeff, that's it.

We've got it.

You mean, Mr.

Hastings is the killer?

Well, he could be, but

gee, it's hard to believe.

Look, if Anne knew

him in Cheyenne,

then she's in on the whole deal.

Now, of we could only talk

to her, and find out--

My goodness, she is the killer.

No, Anne, couldn't

kill anybody.

No?

She-- well, she's not the type.

Where we going?

To see Anne.

Down to the jailhouse?

Well, certainly.

Oh, Mr. Frankie, this is

one summer that I thought

I was gonna get some fresh air.

You'll get plenty of it.

Come on.

OK.

Goodbye.

Hiya, Marty.

How many times have

I got to tell you

my name is Lieutenant Phillips?

And if you're looking for

any clues, I ain't got any.

You're telling me.

I told you-- I'm sorry,

Marty, they slipped past me.

It's all right, Delaney.

All right, kid, get

it off your chest.

Well, it's nothing, I, uh,

just wanted to see Anne.

What makes you think

I'd let you see her?

Well, as a taxpayer,

it's my privilege.

Hey, wait a minute,

you don't pay taxes.

Well, I will someday.

So couldn't I see

her now on account?

Delaney.

Wait a minute.

You can't throw me out.

I gotta right to see Anne.

Well, she ain't here.

She ain't here?

We released her on

bail a half an hour ago.

You released her on bail?

We released her on bail.

Well, who did it?

Who did it, Marty?

Who got her out?

Even if I knew, I

wouldn't tell you.

You mean, you don't know?

The deal was handled by

Max Creager, a bail broker.

Wouldn't give his client's name.

He wouldn't, huh?

Marty, do you realize

what this means?

It means I've got too

much on my mind right now

to worry about it.

Now, will ya please--

Now, look, Anne

didn't kill Tex,

and if she is Gladys

Wharton, she knows too much.

So the killer gets her out

of jail so he can murder her.

Maybe he's got

something there, Marty.

Yeah, I kno-- say,

if that's straight,

that girl's life means less

with every tick of the clock.

We gotta find her.

Listen, there's a chance she

might have gone to the studio.

She's supposed to be on

the Pearl-a-Dent hour.

Well, it's a long

one, but we'll try it.

Say, Marty, you know,

I've been thinking.

-Uh-oh.

-Well, stop it.

Every time you start to

think, I got a headache.

You get a headache?

Every time he

starts to thinking,

I get a nervous concussion.

Quiet down, Jeff.

Look, Marty, I don't think

Anne is Gladys Wharton.

No, then who is?

Well, how about Rita Wilson?

No, you're crazy.

We looked up Anne

Mason's record.

She hails from a

little town about

50 miles outside of Cheyenne.

Yeah?

I didn't know that.

Oh, nice of you to admit it.

Say, look, did you

know that Mr. Hastings

comes from down there too?

Where did you find that out?

Oh, I looked it up

in the radio yearbook.

He used to own a

station down there.

Them maybe he's the

one we're looking for.

I don't know who

we're looking for.

This case gets more mixed up

every time I blink my eyes.

How about it, Marty?

How about what?

How about Mr. Hastings?

How about shutting

up so I can think?

Step on it, Delaney.

Right.

Excuse me, miss, I,uh--

Stella, have you seen Anne?

Why, yes, She came in a

minute ago with Mr. Farrell.

Farrell?

That's all I want to know.

Farrell, I want to talk to you.

Oh, hello, Lieutenant.

You still on the job?

What have you done with Anne?

I haven't seen her.

The girl at the desk said you

come in with her a while ago.

She must be confused.

I think you're the one

that's confused, mister.

Now, are you going to

tell us where she is?

Well, I-- yes, I

did come in with her,

but I don't know

where she is now.

That's a fact.

MARTY: It better be.

It is, and now, if you

gentlemen will excuse me.

the Pearl-a-Dent show goes

on in half an hour and I--

Oh, no, you don't.

You're staying

right here with me.

What about Mr. Hastings?

Will you get that

idea out of your head?

Now, I'm getting to the

bottom of this thing,

once and for all.

Delaney, round up everybody and

have them in the client's room

in 15 minutes.

And that goes for you too.

Yes, sir.

Jeff--

Uh oh.

What's been the matter with me?

That's just what I've

been trying of figure out.

The teletype.

I should have thought

of that a long time ago.

Well, here's hoping it works.

Here's hoping we

don't get caught.

We've got them.

It's coming through.

You don't say so.

Mr. Frankie, you

sure is a genius.

Yeah, Jeff, Tex used to do a

singing act with a blond girl

named Gladys Wharton.

Jeff, it's beginning to click.

Rita Wilson used to be a blond.

What do you know about that?

Says they both

left town hurriedly

after a shooting scrape

with some radio executive.

Who was the radio executive?

It's gone dead, and just

when we were going to find

out something important.

You don't think a

ghost did that, do ya?

No.

That machine went

off too conveniently.

Say, this one's connected with

the machine in the newsroom,

isn't it?

I wonder.

You wait here, Jeff.

Alone?

With all these ghosts?

Mr. Frankie--

Hey, where the fire?

Listen, I'm on the

trail of something hot.

Come on, follow me.

Somebody slugged him.

Jeff?

Jeff, wake up.

Is that where I think I is?

Or is that where I hope I am?

Oh, my head.

What happened, Jeff?

I was standing over there

looking at that machine,

wasn't hurting nobody,

boom, I gets it.

I know'd it was going to

happen to me, Mr. Frankie.

I know'd it.

It's gone all right.

Delaney.

He must have come in

here from the news room

and grabbed that tape and

then went out the other way.

Yeah?

Did anybody enter

or leave this room?

Nobody but you, the kid,

and the porter there.

Thanks.

Must have used this door.

Where does it lead to?

Well, to a hall that

leads to the sponsors room.

Well, let's go.

Y'all go ahead.

I'll stay here and recooperate.

Has anybody left here?

Don't ask me.

I didn't notice anybody.

Now, listen here, Lieutenant--

Quiet, quiet.

Speak your peace, Frankie.

Well, I just checked with

station WRW in Cheyenne,

and I think I've got the

low down on who killed

Tex Barton and Rita Wilson.

What-- What did you find?

Well, the way I've

got it figured,

you see, Rita was Tex's wife,

and well, she ran out on him

for some big radio executive.

What?

And just who is

this big executive?

Well, I don't know yet.

It was just coming

over the teletype

when somebody tore the tape.

But I've got a new line on him.

Now, as I see it--

All right, get

'em up everybody.

First man that moves follows

the same route that Text took.

Nice work, Frankie.

I killed Rita, sure.

I found out she was throwing

me over for someone else.

What about the cowboy?

We was the only one who

knew about Rita and me.

I had to get rid of him too.

All right, I'm in this

thing pretty deep.

Don't try anything.

One or two more won't make

any difference to me now.

Oh, Mr. Frankie!

Good work, Jeff.

Gimme that.

Thought you'd get

away with it, huh?

Take him down, Delaney.

It's our pleasure.

Come on, you.

ANNOUNCER: Presenting

the Pearl-a-Dent hour.

The broadcast, where's Anne?

Now, where do you think?

ANNOUNCER: Presenting for the

first time on the air, the girl

who was destined to

become radio's new singing

sensation, Anne Mason.

Well, how do you like that?

Practically sitting right in

my lap, and I didn't know it.

Sure.

You didn't think I'd

leave her running around,

so you could throw her

back in jail again, did ya?

[MUSIC - LORNA GRAY, "DOIN' THE

CONGA"]

She's my discovery, you know?

[MUSIC - LORNA GRAY, "DOIN' THE

CONGA"]

Well, Mr. Quigley?

She's in, Frankie.

Ah, swell, thanks a lot.

[MUSIC - LORNA GRAY, "DOIN' THE

CONGA"]

Well, what do you think

of our new find, Marty?

For the last time,

my name's Marty.

Shake.

Shake, Lieutenant.

Say, you're all right, Frankie.

You know, I suspected Martin

as soon as you started talking.

Guilt written all over his face.

But tell me, how did

you figure it was him?

Well, to tell you

the truth, I didn't.

He had me fooled too.

I thought it was Mr. Hastings.

What?

You're--

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know.

I'll be seeing ya.

Me too.

Hey, Jeff, wait for me.

[music playing]

Up in the Air (1940) - full transcript