Revolutionary Road

La dulce verdad sobre la union.

*** The Plans

- I hear you're a mathematician.

- You hear wrong. It's all gone now.

- All gone?

- You know what electrical shock treatments are?

- Yes. Yes I do.

- I've had thirty-seven. Supposed to jolt out the "Emotional Problems." Just jolted out the mathematics.

- How awful.

- "How awful..." Why, because mathematics is so "interesting?"

- No. Because the shocks must be awful and... well, because it's awful not to be able to do what it is you want to do. I think mathematics must be dull.

- I like your girl, Frank.

- Me too.

- So, what do a couple of people like you have to run away from?

- We're not running.

- So what's in Paris?

- Different way of life.

- We are running... We're running from the hopeless emptiness of the whole life here.

- The hopeless emptiness? Now, you've said it. Plenty of people are on to the emptiness, but it takes real guts to see the hopelessness... Wow.

*** The Plans Are Gone

- I'm sorry you're not going away anymore. I know it was important to you. And don't take this wrong but I've been there and... they don't have so much we don't have here.

* It didn't have to be Paris.

- You just wanted out, huh?

* I wanted in. I just wanted us to live again. For years I thought we shared a secret... that we would be wonderful in the world. I didn't exactly know how, but just the possibility... kept me hoping. How pathetic is that? So stupid! To put all your hopes in a promise that was never made? See, Frank knows... he knows what he wants. He's found his place. He's just fine. Married, two kids. It should be enough. It is for him. And he's right. We were never special or destined or anything at all.

- Sure you are. You're The Wheelers. You're a terrific couple, everybody says so.

* I saw a whole other future. I can't stop seeing it. Can't leave, can't stay. No damn use to anyone. Come on, let's do it.

*** John's Moral Slap

- I'm sorry dinner's late. Would everyone like another drink?

- Oh, don't worry. It's nice to just sit a bit and socialize... You shouldn't have gone through all this trouble, with all you're packing and what not... You just seem to have so much on your plate [...]

- Actually, there's been a change of plans. I thought maybe it was obvious... April here is pregnant.

- Congratulations! Oh, April! I can't tell you how pleased I am. Oh, but I expect you'll be needing a bigger house, now, won't you?

- Hold it a second, Ma. I don't get this. What's so obvious about it? I mean okay, she's pregnant; so what? Don't people have babies in Europe?

- Suppose we just say that people anywhere aren't very well advised to have babies unless they can afford them.

- Okay. Okay; it's a question of money. Money's a good reason... But it's hardly ever the real reason. What's the real reason? Wife talk you out of it, or what? Little woman decide she isn't quite ready to quit playing house? Nah, nah, that's not it. I can tell. She looks too tough. Tough and adequate as hell. Okay, then; it must've been you. What happened?

- John, please, you're being very rude!

- No, what happened, Frank? You get cold feet, or what? You decide you're better off here after all? You figure it's more comfy here in the old Hopeless Emptiness after all, or... Wow, that did it! Look at his face! What's the matter, Wheeler? Am I getting warm?

- All right, son. I think we'd better be...

- You know something? I wouldn't be surprised if you knocked her up on purpose just so you could spend the rest of your life hiding behind that maternity dress. That way you never have to find out what he's really made of.

- Now look, I think that's just about enough out of you. I mean, who the hell do you think you are? You come in here and say whatever crazy God damn thing comes into your head and I think it's about time someone told you to keep your God damn mouth shut.

- He's not well, Frank.

- Not well, my ass! I don't give a damn if he's sick or well or dead or alive, he should keep his fucking opinions in the fucking insane asylum where they belong!

- Let's go, son.

- Big man you got there, April. Big family man. I feel sorry for you. Still, maybe you deserve each other. The way you look right now, I'm beginning to feel sorry for him, too. I mean, you must give him a pretty bad time if making babies is the only way he can prove he's got a pair of balls.

- You fucking!

- No, He's not well, Frank!

- All right, John. Let's get on out to the car now.

- April, sorry, I'm so sorry...

- Alright... Sorry, sorry, sorry! Oh Ma, have I said "Sorry" enough times? Damn, I am sorry, too. I bet I'm just about the sorriest bastard I know. Course, get right down to it, I don't have a whole hell of a lot to be glad about, do I? You know what? I'm glad about one thing. You know what I'm glad about? I'm glad I'm not gonna be that kid.

*** Scream! [Low quality]

- Okay, okay, don't tell me. Don't tell me; let me guess. I made a Disgusting Spectacle of Myself. Right?

* Right.

- And everything that man said is True. Right? Isn't that what you're going to say?

* Apparently I don't have to. You're saying it for me.

- But you're wrong.

* Why am I wrong?

- Because the man is insane. He's fucking insane! Do you know what the definition of insanity is?

* What is it, Frank?

- The inability to relate to another human being. It's the inability to love.

* The in... the in; the inabil; the inability to... Oh. Oh, Frank, you really are a wonderful talker! If black could be made into white by talking, you'd be the man for the job. So now I'm crazy because I don't love you right? Is that the point?

- No. Wrong. You're not crazy and you do love me; that's the point.

* But I don't. In fact I loathe the sight of you. You're just a boy who made me laugh at a party once and if you come any closer, if you touch me or anything I think I'll scream.

- Oh baby listen...

* AAAAHHH!!!

- Fuck you, April. And fuck all your hateful, snotty little...

* What're you going to do now? Are you going to hit me? To show how much you love me?

- Oh, no, don't worry, I can't be bothered! You're not worth the trouble it'd take to hit you. You're not worth the powder it'd take to blow you up. You're an empty... You're an empty, hollow fucking shell of a woman. What the hell are you living in my house for if you hate me so much? Huh? Will you answer me that? Why the hell do you fuck me? What the hell are you carrying my child for? Why the hell didn't you just get rid of it, when you had the chance? Because listen. Listen: I got news for you. I wish to God you had.