Pygmalion the movie free download

During rehearsals for this scene, a pained expression came over Wendy Hiller 's face. When she spat out the marbles she had in her mouth, she said, "Leslie, I've swallowed one! Goofs After the ball when Mrs. Pearce is serving Professor Higgins his tea, the shadow of the camera can be seen in the bottom left, moving back across his blanket. Quotes Eliza Doolittle : Walk? Alternate versions This film was made a year before the Hays Office gave Clark Gable permission to say "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn", so while in the British prints of this film Leslie Howard often utters the word, in the American prints the word "damn" is replaced by either "hang" or "confounded".

User reviews 91 Review. Top review. By George, they got it the first time George Bernard Shaw wrote the play "Pygmalion" in and as part-social protest, part-satire, part-comedy of manners.

Its central character, Henry Higgins, a London teacher of elocution and expert in regional phonetics, makes a small wager with his friend and colleague, Colonel George Pickering, that he can take a waif from the streets, one Eliza Doolittle, and pass her off as the cream of the social crop.

Using a pedagogical technique consisting mostly of inhumane badgering and humiliation, he manages to pull off the feat with unexpected success — but at an emotional cost he does not foresee.

Besides the inventive montages illustrating Higgins' transformation of Eliza from Cockney flower-girl to the statuesque, gowned beauty who's mistaken for a royal princess at a diplomatic reception, there are additional items that failed to materialize in Shaw's original — the use of the phrases, "The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plains" and "Hurricanes hardly happen in Hartford, Hereford, and Hampshire," both of which later became lyrics for Lerner and Lowe's musical version.

And in the play, Higgins's irritating Hungarian nemesis is not given a name; here, for the first time, he is dubbed "Kaparthy. And as Eliza, Wendy Hiller has her coy moments, particularly when she is "tried out" at a tea party given by Higgins's mother. Her carefully high-toned enunciation of "the new slang" is timed to perfection. The film, unfortunately, leaves one with the feeling that at the story's conclusion - with Higgins quietly demanding to know from Eliza the whereabouts of his slippers - both student and mentor "live happily ever after.

For as Shaw had written at the end of his play over two decades earlier, "the rest of the story need not be shown As for any relationship between Higgins and Eliza, according to Shaw, " to this day he storms and bullies and derides; but she stands up to him so ruthlessly that the Colonel has to ask her from time to time to be kinder to Higgins. I was brought up in Largelady Park, near Epsom. What a devil of a name! Excuse me. Oh, please, please Clara. Oh, thank you.

The note taker blows a piercing blast. So it has. I can tell where you come from. You come from Anwell. Go back there. Haw haw! So long [he touches his hat with mock respect and strolls off]. We can walk to a motor bus. But the cab—[her mother is out of hearing]. Oh, how tiresome! All the rest have gone except the note taker, the gentleman, and the flower girl, who sits arranging her basket, and still pitying herself in murmurs.

Poor girl! Hard enough for her to live without being worrited and chivied. Simply phonetics. The science of speech. Happy is the man who can make a living by his hobby! You can spot an Irishman or a Yorkshireman by his brogue. I can place any man within six miles. I can place him within two miles in London. Sometimes within two streets. Oh yes. Quite a fat one.

This is an age of upstarts. Men begin in Kentish Town with 80 pounds a year, and end in Park Lane with a hundred thousand.

They want to drop Kentish Town; but they give themselves away every time they open their mouths. Now I can teach them—. A woman who utters such depressing and disgusting sounds has no right to be anywhere—no right to live.

You see this creature with her kerbstone English: the English that will keep her in the gutter to the end of her days. And on the profits of it I do genuine scientific work in phonetics, and a little as a poet on Miltonic lines.

Do you know Colonel Pickering, the author of Spoken Sanscrit? You said you could change half-a-crown. The driver puts his hand behind him and holds the door firmly shut against her. Quite understanding his mistrust, she shows him her handful of money].

Next day at 11 a. It is a room on the first floor, looking on the street, and was meant for the drawing-room. The double doors are in the middle of the back hall; and persons entering find in the corner to their right two tall file cabinets at right angles to one another against the walls. In this corner stands a flat writing-table, on which are a phonograph, a laryngoscope, a row of tiny organ pipes with a bellows, a set of lamp chimneys for singing flames with burners attached to a gas plug in the wall by an indiarubber tube, several tuning-forks of different sizes, a life-size image of half a human head, showing in section the vocal organs, and a box containing a supply of wax cylinders for the phonograph.

Further down the room, on the same side, is a fireplace, with a comfortable leather-covered easy-chair at the side of the hearth nearest the door, and a coal-scuttle. There is a clock on the mantelpiece. Between the fireplace and the phonograph table is a stand for newspapers. On the other side of the central door, to the left of the visitor, is a cabinet of shallow drawers. On it is a telephone and the telephone directory. The corner beyond, and most of the side wall, is occupied by a grand piano, with the keyboard at the end furthest from the door, and a bench for the player extending the full length of the keyboard.

On the piano is a dessert dish heaped with fruit and sweets, mostly chocolates. The middle of the room is clear. Besides the easy chair, the piano bench, and two chairs at the phonograph table, there is one stray chair. It stands near the fireplace. On the walls, engravings; mostly Piranesis and mezzotint portraits. No paintings. Pickering is seated at the table, putting down some cards and a tuning-fork which he has been using.

Higgins is standing up near him, closing two or three file drawers which are hanging out. He appears in the morning light as a robust, vital, appetizing sort of man of forty or thereabouts, dressed in a professional-looking black frock-coat with a white linen collar and black silk tie.

He is of the energetic, scientific type, heartily, even violently interested in everything that can be studied as a scientific subject, and careless about himself and other people, including their feelings. His manner varies from genial bullying when he is in a good humor to stormy petulance when anything goes wrong; but he is so entirely frank and void of malice that he remains likeable even in his least reasonable moments.

I rather fancied myself because I can pronounce twenty-four distinct vowel sounds; but your hundred and thirty beat me. Very common indeed. I should have sent her away, only I thought perhaps you wanted her to talk into your machines.

Oh, something dreadful, sir, really. Show her up, Mrs. Pearce [he rushes across to his working table and picks out a cylinder to use on the phonograph]. This is rather a bit of luck. The flower girl enters in state. She has a hat with three ostrich feathers, orange, sky-blue, and red. She has a nearly clean apron, and the shoddy coat has been tidied a little. The pathos of this deplorable figure, with its innocent vanity and consequential air, touches Pickering, who has already straightened himself in the presence of Mrs.

But as to Higgins, the only distinction he makes between men and women is that when he is neither bullying nor exclaiming to the heavens against some featherweight cross, he coaxes women as a child coaxes its nurse when it wants to get anything out of her.

HIGGINS [brusquely, recognizing her with unconcealed disappointment, and at once, baby-like, making an intolerable grievance of it] Why, this is the girl I jotted down last night. Pearce, who is waiting at the door for further instruction] Did you tell him I come in a taxi? Nonsense, girl! Higgins cares what you came in? Oh, we are proud! Good enough for ye—oo. And to pay for em too: make no mistake.

Well, if you was a gentleman, you might ask me to sit down, I think. Pickering: shall we ask this baggage to sit down or shall we throw her out of the window? I want to be a lady in a flower shop stead of selling at the corner of Tottenham Court Road. He said he could teach me. Well, here I am ready to pay him—not asking any favor—and he treats me as if I was dirt.

How can you be such a foolish ignorant girl as to think you could afford to pay Mr. Pickering returns to the hearthrug]. Come back to business. How much do you propose to pay me for the lessons? A lady friend of mine gets French lessons for eighteenpence an hour from a real French gentleman. Take it or leave it. Figure it out. A millionaire has about pounds a day. She earns about half-a-crown. LIZA [rising, terrified] Sixty pounds! What are you talking about?

I never offered you sixty pounds. Where would I get—. Sit down. Nobody is going to touch your money. Here [he offers her his silk handkerchief]!

To wipe your eyes. To wipe any part of your face that feels moist. LIZA [snatching it] Here! You give me that handkerchief. He give it to me, not to you. I think it must be regarded as her property, Mrs. LIZA [protesting extremely] Ah—ah—ah—ah—ow—ow—oooo!!!

Higgins, though he may not always mean it. The difficulty is to find them to do. I shall make a duchess of this draggletailed guttersnipe. Take her away and clean her, Mrs.

Is there a good fire in the kitchen? Ring up Whiteley or somebody for new ones. Wrap her up in brown paper till they come. We want none of your Lisson Grove prudery here, young woman. Take her away, Mrs.

If she gives you any trouble wallop her. Pearce for protection] No! Higgins: really you must. Higgins, thus scolded, subsides. The hurricane is succeeded by a zephyr of amiable surprise. My dear Mrs. Pearce, my dear Pickering, I never had the slightest intention of walking over anyone.

All I propose is that we should be kind to this poor girl. We must help her to prepare and fit herself for her new station in life. If I did not express myself clearly it was because I did not wish to hurt her delicacy, or yours. Why not!

What about her parents? She may be married. As the girl very properly says, Garn! Married indeed! Very well, Mrs. Throw her out. You see now what comes of being saucy. I can buy my own clothes. This is my return for offering to take you out of the gutter and dress you beautifully and make a lady of you. Stop, Mr. Go home to your parents, girl; and tell them to take better care of you. They told me I was big enough to earn my own living and turned me out.

Her that turned me out was my sixth stepmother. But I done without them. Very well, then, what on earth is all this fuss about? Pearce and begins coaxing]. You can adopt her, Mrs. Take her downstairs; and—. Is she to be paid anything? Do be sensible, sir. Oh, pay her whatever is necessary: put it down in the housekeeping book. LIZA [turning on him] Oh you are a brute. Not any feelings that we need bother about.

Will you please keep to the point, Mr. I want to know on what terms the girl is to be here. Is she to have any wages? You must look ahead a little. Tell me that, Mrs. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, you ought. Higgins whips out his penknife; cuts a chocolate in two; puts one half into his mouth and bolts it; and offers her the other half. You shall have boxes of them, barrels of them, every day. You shall live on them. You have, Eliza; and in future you shall have as many taxis as you want.

You shall go up and down and round the town in a taxi every day. Think of that, Eliza. She should think of the future. At her age! Think of chocolates, and taxis, and gold, and diamonds. You shall remain so, Eliza, under the care of Mrs.

And you shall marry an officer in the Guards, with a beautiful moustache: the son of a marquis, who will disinherit him for marrying you, but will relent when he sees your beauty and goodness—. Excuse me, Higgins; but I really must interfere. Pearce is quite right. How can she? Besides, do any of us understand what we are doing?

If we did, would we ever do it? Very clever, Higgins; but not sound sense. No use explaining. As a military man you ought to know that. Pearce with a broomstick. At the end of six months you shall go to Buckingham Palace in a carriage, beautifully dressed. If you are not found out, you shall have a present of seven-and-sixpence to start life with as a lady in a shop. If you refuse this offer you will be a most ungrateful and wicked girl; and the angels will weep for you.

Pearce] Can I put it more plainly and fairly, Mrs. Come with me, Eliza. Thank you, Mrs. Bundle her off to the bath-room. I was never in trouble with the police, not me. Come with me. Pickering comes from the hearth to the chair and sits astride it with his arms on the back. Excuse the straight question, Higgins. Are you a man of good character where women are concerned? I find that the moment I let a woman make friends with me, she becomes jealous, exacting, suspicious, and a damned nuisance.

I find that the moment I let myself make friends with a woman, I become selfish and tyrannical. Women upset everything. I suppose the woman wants to live her own life; and the man wants to live his; and each tries to drag the other on to the wrong track. One wants to go north and the other south; and the result is that both have to go east, though they both hate the east wind.

So here I am, a confirmed old bachelor, and likely to remain so. You know what I mean. That thing! Sacred, I assure you. They might as well be blocks of wood. I might as well be a block of wood. Pearce opens the door. Pickering retires to the easy-chair at the hearth and sits down.

Yes, certainly. Come in. Handle it carefully, sir, please. I had to promise her not to burn it; but I had better put it in the oven for a while. Well, what have you to say to me? Not at all, sir. Higgins: will you please be very particular what you say before the girl?

Why do you say this to me? But you really must not swear before the girl. I detest the habit. What the devil do you mean? You swear a great deal too much. The girl has just used it herself because the bath was too hot. It begins with the same letter as bath. But she must not hear it from your lips. He adds, hiding an uneasy conscience with a judicial air] Except perhaps in a moment of extreme and justifiable excitement.

Only this morning, sir, you applied it to your boots, to the butter, and to the brown bread. Well, sir, whatever you choose to call it, I beg you not to let the girl hear you repeat it.

No, sir. We shall have to be very particular with this girl as to personal cleanliness. I mean not to be slovenly about her dress or untidy in leaving things about. I intended to call your attention to that [He passes on to Pickering, who is enjoying the conversation immensely].

It is these little things that matter, Pickering. Take care of the pence and the pounds will take care of themselves is as true of personal habits as of money. Yes, sir. Then might I ask you not to come down to breakfast in your dressing-gown, or at any rate not to use it as a napkin to the extent you do, sir. And if you would be so good as not to eat everything off the same plate, and to remember not to put the porridge saucepan out of your hand on the clean tablecloth, it would be a better example to the girl.

You know you nearly choked yourself with a fishbone in the jam only last week. Pearce: I shall be particularly careful before the girl.

Is that all? Might she use some of those Japanese dresses you brought from abroad? You know, Pickering, that woman has the most extraordinary ideas about me. Here I am, a shy, diffident sort of man. He says you have his daughter here. And we are sure to get something interesting out of him.

Alfred Doolittle is an elderly but vigorous dustman, clad in the costume of his profession, including a hat with a back brim covering his neck and shoulders. He has well marked and rather interesting features, and seems equally free from fear and conscience. He has a remarkably expressive voice, the result of a habit of giving vent to his feelings without reserve.

His present pose is that of wounded honor and stern resolution. Morning, Governor. Mother Welsh, I should think. Higgins continues] What do you want, Doolittle? Of course you do. Take her away at once. Take her away.

Is this reasonable? Is it fair to take advantage of a man like this? The girl belongs to me. You got her. Where do I come in? User icon An illustration of a person's head and chest. Sign up Log in. Web icon An illustration of a computer application window Wayback Machine Texts icon An illustration of an open book.

Books Video icon An illustration of two cells of a film strip. Video Audio icon An illustration of an audio speaker. Audio Software icon An illustration of a 3. Software Images icon An illustration of two photographs. Images Donate icon An illustration of a heart shape Donate Ellipses icon An illustration of text ellipses.

Pygmalion Movies Preview. It appears your browser does not have it turned on. Please see your browser settings for this feature. Web icon An illustration of a computer application window Wayback Machine Texts icon An illustration of an open book. Books Video icon An illustration of two cells of a film strip.

Video Audio icon An illustration of an audio speaker. Audio Software icon An illustration of a 3. Software Images icon An illustration of two photographs.

Images Donate icon An illustration of a heart shape Donate Ellipses icon An illustration of text ellipses. It appears your browser does not have it turned on.