Ladykillers, The () Movie Script. Read the Ladykillers, The full movie script online. SS is dedicated to The Simpsons and host to thousands of free TV show. The Ladykillers is a classic black comedy; a sweet little old lady, alone in her house, is pitted against a gang of criminal misfits who will stop at nothing. “THE LADYKILLERS” Screenplay by Joel Coen and Ethan Coen Based on the movie “The Ladykillers” by William Rose EXT. MISSISSIPPI RIVER – DAY A .

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More info about this movie on IMDb. Screenplays for You – free movie scripts and screenplays. Screenplays, movie scripts and transcripts organized alphabetically: Sceeenplay sound, except for an incongruously heroic score. One piece of sound — the toot of the boat’s horn screenplxy is obviously library.

And not a new library either. The garbage scow passes under a bridge spanning the broad, sluggish waters, and proceeds on to its landfill, a steaming river island. Disturbed gulls and other scavenger birds rise from where they were picking through trash. Their squawks, like the boat horn, are not quite believable as SYNC. The head credits end as the anthemic music resolves. The porch is half-shaded from the noonday sun. It is quiet except for the chirr of heat bugs, close by, and, very distant, many voices in chorus, engaged in divine worship in a Baptist church sufficiently far away that vagaries of breeze fan them in and out of audibility.

We once again hear the toot srceenplay the scow’s horn, distant now and played as real, not slapdash effect. At this, the dog lifts his nose to catch the breeze, sniffs, and then, whining, lowers his head to the floor lady,illers covers his snout with his forepaws.

He huffs briefly and goes to sleep. A campaign sign in the window on the municipal side shows a black man of late middle-age beaming and giving the viewer a thumbs-up: The small cell is empty, its bed neatly made. The peaceful steady hissing jumps in louder at the CUT: The snoring is also louder here. It nevertheless rouses the sheriff who almost strangles on a snore as he awakes, and then rocks forward to pick up scrdenplay phone.

The muffled ringing continues; the sheriff looks, puzzled, at the phone. Now the ringing stops ladykiolers we hear a muffled voice next door: The sheriff replaces the phone, leans back again, adjusts his hat, and is about to go back to sleep when we hear the front door open.


The sheriff looks and reacts with genuine, if momentary, fear. He manages to compose himself and give the intruder a smile: Entering is an elderly black woman in a floral print dress and fruited bonnet.

You know the Funthes boy? Wyner is not sure where this is going: Sheriff Wyner now displays an exaggerated solicitousness: That kind of music! You know what they call colored folks in them songs? Have you got any idea? I don’t wanna say lxdykillers word. I won’t say it twice, I’ll tell you that.

I say it one time. Two thousand years after Jesus! Thirty years after Martin Luther King! The age of Montel! Sweet lord a-mercy, izzat where we at? So he can listen to that word in the house next to mine? Sheriff, you gotta help that boy! Don’t wanna be tried and found wantin’. Many many tunkalow parzen!

Don’t want that writin’ on the wall! Behold there is a stranger in our midst, come to destroy us! Munson closes the door behind her. She wags a paper fan and mutters: Dog, you in peoples’ way. The dog svreenplay with a whine and ambles off. It is the last house on a street of other similarly modest but well maintained homes; beyond it the street disappears down a bluff. The empty space beyond suggests a wide river, and indeed screebplay can see the top of an anchored, gaudily painted paddle-boat poking over the rise.

The sxreenplay is apparently anchored at the near bank of the river. Munson is entering by the gate. She stops in the garden and stoops to pull a tiny weed marring the otherwise perfect row of flowers. Munson lets herself in. A cat lopes up to her, the bell around its neck tinkling, and leans mewing into her leg.

Munson hand-cranks a can opener around a tin of cat food. The cat paces back and forth between her legs, leaning into them and ecreenplay, responding to the snap of tin as the cover comes off the can.

The can contains cubed processed gizzard in a gelatinous medium like the stuff that clings to gefilte fish. A couple of candles sit on the mantel below the portrait, giving it the semblance of a shrine.

Munson enters and lights the candles. That boy hangin’ by a thread! She shakes out the match and sits in a rocker and takes up her knitting. As she sits she gives an audible groan.

Sixty-seven years of life, forty- six years of marriage, you mean to tell me you never one time suffered from piles? It’s the human condition, most humans anyway. Like that ball player said: But you was always healthy as an ox There is the distant moan of a riverboat horn. Passed on before you got piles.


Ladykillers, The () movie script – Screenplays for You

Thank the Lord you screenpkay sick. You don’t wanna sicken ‘n die. No, you wanna pass nice ‘n peaceful A gust of wind hums under the eaves; the candles below the portrait flicker. Munson looks around the room, vaguely towards the ceiling, sensing a negative aura, the cat arches its back and hisses. At this moment the doorbell rings.

Well who’s that now, Pickles?

Ladykillers, The (1955) Movie Script

She grunts as she hoists herself out of the chair. He is a middle-aged Southern gentleman wearing a panama hat and a cape over a cream-colored suit. He has dark circles under his eyes. The smile he attempts, mournful yet courtly, is wiped away by: DORR I do beg your pardon? DORR tasting the name Pickles Your gonna have to shimmy on up. DORR I am so terribly sorry, madam. But won’t the feline eventually tire of his lonely perch and, pining for his master’s affection, return on his own initiative?

The Ladykillers was ‘a cartoon of Britain’s corruption’

No, he won’t come down less you fetch him. He’d set there til Gabriel blows his horn if someone didn’t shimmy up. Up with you now! DORR Well then couldn’t we perhaps offer him kitty treats and enticements, or if not foodstuffs perhaps squeaky little toys of the kind formerly manufactured in Hong Kong but now produced in the other so-called “Little Tigers” His fingers form the quotes.

The point bein’, do we have to actually ascend the tree– MRS. If you ain’t gonna fetch him down I guess I gotta call the po-lice Every time they come fetch him down they swear they won’t do it no more Dorr casts his hat aside and starts awkwardly climbing the tree.

He gasps as he climbs: DORR No need to call the authorities. I did this often as a youth — why, I was a positive lemur The cat backs away down a branch, arching its back and hissing.