A River Runs Through It Script Pdf

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Running time 123 minutes Country United States Language English Box office $43 million A River Runs Through It is a 1992 American directed by and starring, and. It is a based on the 1976 novel by, adapted for the screen. Set in and around, the story follows two sons of a minister, one studious and the other rebellious, as they grow up and come of age in the Rocky Mountain region during a span of time from roughly to the early days of the, including part of the. The film won an in 1993 and was nominated for two other Oscars, for Best Music, Original Score and Best Adapted Screenplay. The film grossed $43 million in US domestic returns. Contents.

Plot The film follows the true story of the Maclean brothers, Norman and Paul, growing up in with their father, Presbyterian minister John. A common theme in the film is the men's love of for trout in the and how it impacted their lives. The film is told from Norman's point of view, with director as narrator. The film opens with a scene of Norman Maclean in his old age tying a fly onto his line. This establishes that Norman is telling this story in the past-tense as he is fishing. The story begins with the brothers learning to fish from their father, a preacher who treats fishing as a sacred act. They learn to cast using a ticking metronome.

The boys become accomplished fishermen as a result. Norman and Paul are home taught and must adhere to the strict moral and educational code of their father. However, whenever they get a chance they enjoy practicing the art of fly fishing. As they grow older, it becomes clear that Norman is the more disciplined and studious brother, while Paul is the fun loving, wild one and the more talented fly fisherman. Norman attends a dance with his friends after returning home from six years away at Dartmouth, where he meets his future wife, Jessie Burns. Paul has become a reporter at a newspaper in, the state capital.

He has angered many of the locals by falling behind in a big poker game at, a hamlet near Missoula with a popular bar that is also a front for gambling and prostitution, and by dating a beautiful Indian woman, Mabel, who is deemed to be of an inferior race by the community. Paul gets arrested after fighting a man who has insulted her, and Norman is awakened in the middle of the night by a phone call from the police to come and bail Paul out of jail.

After Norman and Jessie go on several dates, she insists that Norman make an effort to get along with her brother Neal, who is visiting from California. Norman and Paul do not like the self-centered Neal, who tells tall tales of socializing with film stars in Hollywood, but at Jessie's insistence they invite him to go fishing. Neal shows up drunk with a woman (a part-time prostitute) he met at a bar the evening before. Norman and Paul decide to fish anyway and return to their car hours later to find that Neal and his ladyfriend 'Rawhide' have drunk all their beer and passed out naked in the sun.

A River Runs Through It CONCEPT/VOCABULARY ANALYSIS Literary Text: A River Runs Through It by Norman Maclean Organizational Patterns: A River Runs Through It is a. A RIVER RUNS THROUGH IT BOOK ONLINE Ebook title: A River Runs Through It Book Online exclusively available in PDF, DOC and ePub format. You can download and save it.

Norman returns a painfully sunburned Neal home, where Jessie is waiting for them. She is angry that the brothers did not fish with Neal. Norman asks Jessie to drive him home, as he had brought Neal back in Neal's own car, and he tells her that he is falling for her.

She drives away angry but a week later asks Norman to come to the train station to see Neal off back to California. After the train departs, Norman shows Jessie a letter from the: a job offer for an English Literature teaching position. Norman asks Jessie to marry him. When Norman tells Paul about the job offer and marriage proposal, he also urges Paul to come with him and Jessie to Chicago. Paul tells Norman that he will never leave Montana. Just before leaving for Chicago, Norman, Paul and their father go fly fishing one last time as a family. Paul catches a huge fish that drags him down the river through a set of rapids before he finally lands it.

John proudly tells his son Paul what a wonderful fisherman he has become, and how he is an artist in the craft, much to Paul's delight. They pose for pictures with the huge fish for their mother. Soon after the fishing excursion, Norman is again contacted by the police. They tell him that Paul has been found beaten to death in an alley, and that all the bones in his right hand have also been broken. Norman goes home and tells his parents the sad news. The story then jumps ahead a few years to a sermon being given by John with Mrs. Maclean, Norman, Jessie and their two children in attendance.

The narrator mentions that John dies soon after this sermon. The last scene is of Norman as an old man, back in the Montana river where he used to fish with his family many years before. He mentions that nearly everyone from his youth is dead, including Jessie, and that he is haunted by waters. Cast. as. as Paul Maclean.

as Reverend John Maclean. as Clara Maclean. as Jessie Burns. as Neal Burns. as Mrs.

Burns. as Young Norman Maclean.

Vann Gravage as Young Paul Maclean. as Mabel. as 'Rawhide'. as Chub.

Rob Cox as Conroy. as Humph Production Filming. The Redeemer Lutheran Church in Livingston, Montana, used for the Presbyterian church scenes.

Although both the book and movie are set in Missoula and on the Blackfoot River, it was filmed in late June, early July 1991 in south central Montana in and, and on the nearby upper, and. The waterfall shown is in. Filming was completed in early September 1991.

An article published in the Helena in July 2000, based on recollections of people who knew both brothers, noted a number of specifics about the Macleans — notably various chronological and educational details about Paul Maclean's adult life — that differ somewhat from their portrayal in the film and novella. Music , who would go on to compose the scores to most -directed films, composed the musical score for the film. Originally, was hired to score the film.

However, after Redford and Bernstein disagreed over the tone of the music, Bernstein was replaced by Isham. Rushed for time, Isham completed the score within four weeks at Schnee Studio of Signet Sound Studios in Hollywood, CA. Upon release, the music was met with positive reviews earning the film both nominations for Grammy and Academy awards.

The A River Runs Through It (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack) was released on October 27, 1992. In some home video releases of the film, Elmer Bernstein is credited as the film's composer despite his score being rejected during post-production. Release Critical reception Released on October 9, 1992, the film grossed $43,440,294 in US domestic returns. The film holds an 83% rating on based on polled critical reviews. The site's consensus reads: 'Tasteful to a fault, this period drama combines a talented cast (including a young Brad Pitt) with some stately, beautifully filmed work from director Robert Redford.'

Brad pitt a river runs through it

Much of the praise focused on Pitt's portrayal of Paul, which has been cited as his career-making performance. Awards and honors The film was nominated for three in 1993, including (Philippe Rousselot); (Mark Isham); and (Richard Friedenberg). Rousselot won for Best Cinematography. At the, Robert Redford was nominated for, but did not win.

References. Box Office Mojo.

Retrieved March 9, 2015. ^ Thompson, Toby (October 11, 1992). Washington Post.

Retrieved April 28, 2013. McMillion, Scott (June 20, 2003). Bozeman Daily Chronicle. Retrieved March 9, 2015. October 26, 2007, at the. Kidston, Martin J.

(July 9, 2000). Independent Record. Helena, Montana. Retrieved March 9, 2015.

Retrieved September 6, 2012. Mark Morton. Retrieved September 6, 2012.

Rotten Tomatoes. Retrieved March 9, 2015. Turan, Kenneth.

Los Angeles Times. Retrieved September 30, 2012.

External links Wikiquote has quotations related to:. on. at the. at. at the.

A River Runs Through It Script - transcript from the screenplay and/or Robert Redford movie with Brad Pitt A River Runs Through It Script - Dialogue TranscriptVoila! Finally, the A River Runs Through It script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the Robert Redford movie with Brad Pitt. This script is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of A River Runs Through It. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and I'll be eternally tweaking it, so if you have any corrections, feel free to. You won't hurt my feelings.

Swing on back to afterwards for more! A River Runs Through It Script Long ago, when I was a young man, my father said to me.

'Norman, you like to write stories.' And I said, 'Yes, I do.' Then he said, 'Someday, when you're ready. You might tell our family story. Only then will you understand what happened and why.' In our family, there was no clear line between religion and fly-fishing.

We lived at the junction of great trout rivers in Missoula, Montana. Where Indians still appeared out of the wilderness. To walk the honky-tonks and brothels of Front Street.

My father was a Presbyterian minister. And a fly-fisherman. Though it is true that one day a week was given over wholly to religion. Even then he told us about Christ's disciples being fishermen. And we were left to assume, as my younger brother Paul and I did. That all first-class fishermen on the Sea of Galilee were fly-fishermen.

And that John, the favorite, was a dry fly-fisherman. The poor without Christ are of all men the most miserable. But the poor with Christ. Are princes and kings of the earth. In the afternoon, we would walk with him.

While he unwound between services. He almost always chose a path along the Big Blackfoot. Which we considered our family river. It was there he felt his soul restored and his imagination stirred. Long ago rain fell on mud and became rock. Halt a billion years ago.

But even before that, beneath the rocks. Are the words of God. And if Paul and I listened very carefully all our lives. We might hear those words. Even so, Paul and I received as many hours of instruction in fly-fishing. As we did in all other spiritual matters. As a Presbyterian, my father believed.

That man, by nature, was a damn mess. And that only by picking up God's rhythms. Were we able to regain power and beauty. To him, all good things, trout as well as eternal salvation, come by grace.

And grace comes by art, and art does not come easy. So my brother and I learned to cast Presbyterian style: on a metronome.

He began each session with the same instruction: Casting is an art that is performed on a four-count rhythm. Between: and:. If he had had his way, nobody who did not know how to catch a fish. Would be allowed to disgrace a fish by catching it. So it was with my formal education as well. Each weekday, while my father worked on his Sunday sermon.

I attended the school of the Reverend Maclean. He taught nothing but reading and writing. And being a Scot. Believed that the art of writing lay in thrift. Half as long. So while my friends spent their days at Missoula Elementary. I stayed home and learned to write the American language.

Again, halt as long. Now throw it away. Wait for your brother! However, there was a balance to my father's system. Every afternoon I was set free. Untutored and untouched till supper. To learn on my own the natural side of God's order.

And there could be no better place to learn than the Montana of my youth. It was a world with dew still on it. More touched by wonder and possibility than any I have since known. Goddamn it, open up the door! What the hell is goin' on?

- Where are you guys going? Move out of the way. But it was a tough world, too. Even as children.

We understood that and admired it. And of course, we had to test it. I knew I was tough because I had been bloodied in battle. Don't be a sissy! Yeah, come on.

Let's see some blood here. Paul was different. His toughness came from some secret place inside of him.

He simply knew he was tougher than anyone alive. Grace will not be said until that bowl is clean. Man has been eating God's oats for a thousand years. It's not the place of an -year-old boy to change that tradition. Rich in forgiveness, grant that we. May hold fast the good things we receive from Thee. And as often as we tall into sin, be lifted by repentance through Thy grace.

Norm, what do you want to be when you grow up? A minister, I guess. Or a professional boxer. You think you could beat Jack Johnson?

Where Was A River Runs Through It Filmed

I think you could. I'd bet on it.

What are you gonna be? - A professional fly-fisherman. There's no such thing. There isn't? I guess a boxer. Not a minister? In World War I came to Missoula.

Taking with it every able-bodied lumberjack. Leaving the woods to old men and boys. So at I did my duty. And started working for the U.S. Forest Service.

It was a life of timber and toil. With men as tough as their ax handles. And more mountains in all directions. Than I would ever see again. Being too young to join me.

Paul took a job as lifeguard at the municipal swimming pool. So that during the day he could look over the girls.

And in the evenings he could pursue his other purpose in life: fishing. Be Thou my vision O Lord of my heart Naught be all else to me Save that Thou art Thou might press on By day or by night Waking or sleeping Thy presence my light Preacher, come on.

Preacher, come on. Have I told you what a fire sounds like coming down a mountain o miles an hour? Him and his forest fires. I've got a great idea. I know how we can go down in history.

We borrow old man Seitert's rowboat and we shoot the chutes. You can't shoot the chutes. You can try. You can die trying. They'd bury us with honors. We would be the kings of Missoula. We'd be famous.

A River Runs Through It Script Pdf

All of you would get your photographs in the paper. I'm doing it.

Let's do it. I'm with you. I'll get the oars. Whose idea was this?

- Which way we goin', Pauly? I need a woman! Jesus, Mary and Joseph! Okay, we'll put in upstream. Okay, hop in. We can all tit.

I don't think so. Just me, Norm and Chub. I guess it's just the Macleans. You ain't goin' over, Pauly. They'll pull to shore.

See you in heaven! Come back a second. I gotta tell you something. See you later, boys! Rudder on the right. On your right. Watch your right.

Steer around. On your right. What the hell! You crazy son of a bitch! - You guys okay?

- Where's- Preach, you okay? You will go to church this day and pray for forgiveness. Your mother spent the night sick with worry. Did you think of her feelings? Campbell called.

Who gave you the boat? - We borrowed it. Boys, what have you done?

You will work off every cent of its value. I'll work it oft. It was my idea. What're you making? Know what you need? Ham, cheese and sardines. I don't want sardines.

I'll show you. Those guys will tell everyone the class of ' did it.

I should write an article. 'Macleans conquer chutes.' - I don't like sardines.

You could get it in the school paper. 'Geez, Pauly!' - What a skeezicks!

- I don't want any goddamn sardines! You hit her, you son of a bitch! You knocked her down, you bastard! - Son of a bitch! - Please, I slipped! I just slipped.

That was the only time. We ever fought. Perhaps we wondered afterwards which one of us was tougher. But if boyhood questions aren't answered before a certain point. They can't be raised again.

So we returned to being gracious to one another. As the church wall suggested. I then saw something remarkable.

For the first time, Paul broke free of our father's instruction. Into a rhythm all his own. They're both marvelous. I'd say the Lord has blessed us all today. It's just that He's been particularly good to me. The year ended with my acceptance into Dartmouth College.

Father had told me I could attend any college in the world I could get into. I knew he earned no more than $ a year. So his offer meant more to me than anything in my life.

Do your best. So in the autumn of I boarded the Northern Pacific. For a -mile trip east to the unknown. To the son of a Montana minister, Dartmouth was more than an education. It was a revelation, exposing me to a world I'd only guessed. As part of my degree, I was required to enlighten incoming freshman.

On the wonders of the Romantic poets. And although I was unaware of it then. Teaching fit me. But most of the time I sat in the card room of my fraternity house. Giving my bluenose brothers a lesson in Front Street poker.

In all, I spent six years at Dartmouth. Away from home nearly all that time.

On the other hand, Paul stayed home for college. Unwilling to leave the fish he had not yet caught. After graduation, he took a job as a reporter for a Helena newspaper. And moved to that town. His connection with the family growing as slight as my own.

It was not until the spring of. That I finally did come home. Dinner is in half an hour, so you have time for a bath. Do I look thin?

Do I look old? No, you look- I wish Paul could've been here tonight. He's working late. Norman, would you come in? I'm sorry Paul won't be here. The life of a newspaperman. You know how Paul likes to- I do.

I also hear that he- I hear everything, don't l? God forbid my flock keep me in ignorance. You can bet everyone from here to Helena knows the details of your education. It is an achievement. To what use shall you put this achievement? - I'm considering the Forest Service. As a career?

For the summer. That's a good idea. The body fuels the mind.

That's what I was thinking. I'm not sure yet. You've had six years to become sure. Have you considered an advanced degree? The ministry?

I've applied for several teaching positions. College level. I haven't heard yet. No, it's early. You have taught classes already, haven't you? Did you find that rewarding?

That is to say, do you feel this could be your calling? Dinner, gentlemen. If it's so tunny, how come I'm not laughing? Yes, pee in their pants. Paul Maclean? The Anaconda Mine rules say no breaks. Not even for the john, so they stand there and pee in their pants.

What about the late-George Masterson. I'll take that widow. She's and built like-You take the Anaconda. I'll interview the grieving widow. But I'm the boss, Maclean. Fine by me, boss. Boys, this is my big brother, the professor.

Thanks for visiting me last night. Yeah, damn. Wanted to be there. Wanted to hear the old man say, 'Norman, could you come into my study, please?' Geez, the professor.

We should celebrate. A little early for me. The East is making you soft. Is that right? Do much fishing out east? What do you say?

Big Blacktoot. Take this hole. It's a good one.

That's all right. You go ahead. It's a good hole.

Try a roll cast. The fish are out further. Just a little further. Cast your line into the current. It'll give a better base and add distance. You're just rusty.

He called it shadow casting. Keeping his line above water long enough and low enough. To make a rainbow rise. And I realized that in the time I was away. My brother had become an artist.

My coach comes up to me and says, 'Mac, how'd you like to meet. Sullivan, the last bare-knuckle champion of the world. It was then I knew I was home. Standing on the steps of the Missoula Library once again. Late at night, telling stories to the same boys.

Who had sat on those steps and listened a hundred times before. And who had, in my absence, become men. It goes to show the world is full of bastards. The number increasing rapidly the further one gets from Missoula, Montana! That's why you need to stick around here from now on. Where's the gargle?

Yes, pass this way. Every girl you need to know will be at the th of July dance. Without mama. Find you a little Sheba. Gentlemen, it's been swell.

Where're you going? Heavy date, Paul? - With a poker table. You see them new signs? 'Does your husband misbehave? Grunt and grumble, rant and rave?

Shoot that brute some Burma Shave!' - The road to where? Lolo Hot Springs. Being back in my father's church seemed to complete my return.

More than anything else, I realized it was my father's words. That made me feel most at home. In the glow of awakened memories. When the deepest feelings of the heart are all astir.

We are reminded of the poet who sings. 'Backward, turn backward, O time in your flight. Make me a child again. Just for tonight.'

Recognize anybody? You've been gone too long, son. Who's that? A little infatuation?

Jessie Burns. From Wolf Creek. Her brother went to Hollywood. Jessie Burns.

Would you like to dance? Would you be a doll and get us a drink?

Jessie, who's that? - Here you go. You're a lifesaver. How ladylike! I have to be careful or I'll wipe off all the powder. Phantom of the Opera.

Pack up all my care and woe Here I go, singing low Bye-bye, blackbird I heard Louis Armstrong sing this song once. In a little speak in Greenwich Village, New York. Best jazz in the world. Colored jazz, you know? The real McCoy.

Not like Paul Whiteman or the Kliquot Club Eskimos. My mother loves the Kliquot Club Eskimos. Let the fireworks begin! - Guys, come on.

Jessie, come on. I have a wonderful idea. What better lesson for those girls than a trip to the reservation. To learn a real Christian message of giving, don't you think? I'll organize it.

Don't lift a finger. This is the most charitable idea I've heard in years. Do you know those Indian children don't even have shoes? Do you need the phone? - No, I don't have to. No, you go ahead. If you need to use it-No, I have work to do.

I'd like- She's fine. I'd like- Yes, everybody's tine. I'd like the Burns residence in Wolt Creek, please.

Yes, I know it's long distance. Is Jessie there? This is Norman Maclean, but I don't think she- Hello.

No, I'm the one who brought you the drink. No, we didn't get a chance. The tireworks started. We talked about music. And I said I heard Louis Armstrong sing the- Yeah, that's me.

I was a little nervous. You were so je ne sais quoi. I thought I could come and listen to the Kliquot Club Eskimos with your mother. I called because I wanted to see you again.

How about Saturday?:? I'll see you then. Hey, here they are.

Jessie, this is my baby brother Paul. And this is Monasita. What do you say, Pauly? - How are you, Murph? Good to see you. You know the house rules as good as I do, Paul.

I don't like the house rules, Murph. What are you going to make me do, Pauly? Get us a table for four. Last time, Paul.

Hello, Judge. You can get him back. Get drunk and dance naked on the table. And beat the hell out of the son of a bitch. Molly, my darling. They've got swell hooch here.

They even wash the glasses. What'll it be? I'll have a martini, Paul.

The usual for Norm. Gin and prune juice. Make that a double.

I'd like to order a drink, too. Whiskey, double. So, what are you doing now, Mabel? You have the most beautiful hair I've ever seen. Should I get it bobbed? No, not in a million years.

River

'The candle burns at both ends. It will not last the night. But, ah, my toes, and oh, my friends. It gives a lovely light.' How about to my editor, the old curmudgeon? He took me off the Anaconda story.

I'm a reporter at The Bee. How do you know? - Fishing newspaperman.

You know he fishes, too? - I thought everybody knew. You've been away a long time.

I'd say so. It's seems my editor-The old curmudgeon. Yes, exactly.

He's been getting calls. No names, just threats.

Real threats? It's nice to know you're touching a nerve button.

What did they say? What did they say?

- What did they say? - You'll have to cut it out of him. The boys will come down and pay me a little visit. Fit you with a pair or concrete galoshes, see? I have to dance. Now, The Muskrat Ramble. I'm nowhere near as good as my brother, but would you do me the honor?

'Dear Jessie, As the moon lingers a moment over the Bitteroots. Before its descent into the invisible. My mind is filled with song. I find I am humming softly. Not to the music, but something else.

Someplace else. A place remembered.

A field of grass where no one seemed to have been except the deer. And the memory is strengthened by the feeling of you. Dancing in my awkward arms. What's wrong? It's okay, Mother. I'm Norman Maclean.

No, he doesn't have to post bond. He covers the police beat and has friends here. Just look at him and take him home. What did he do? He hit a guy and the guy is missing a couple of teeth. Why did he hit him? It says, 'A remark was passed concerning the Indian woman he was with.'

The guy deserved it. We're picking your brother up too much lately.

Is that right? Besides, he's behind on the big stud poker game at Lolo. It's not healthy to get behind on that game at Lolo. Is he hurt? - He's not hurt. He's just sick.

He drinks too much. At Lolo, they don't drink too much. You better go in and get your brother.

I'm tired and I wanna go to bed I just had a drink about an hour ago It went right to my head No matter where I roam By land or sea or foam You can always hear me singing this song Show me the way to go home It you need any money, Paul. Or anything else, I want you to know that- She lives past the slaughterhouse. Well, chickens haven't come home to roost yet, Al. Are you all right? - Clara, was that your jelly? - Yes, it was. It was wonderful.

And is this Norman? Yes, we're very proud of him. Nice to have you back. Her daughter's turned into a beauty.

There she is. Twenty only a week ago. She's bright as a light. Murchison, how are you? - Quite well, thank you. Good, good. And this is Paul?

- No, this is Norman. Oh, Norman! You're looking good. Hasn't he grown up? - Paul's here.

I'm sorry, I can't. I'm meeting Jessie Burns' family.

Her brother's coming in from California. Oh, well, now. Should we have this girl to dinner?

Perhaps, Mother. Let me borrow those. Hello, Father.

First shot, bangs it right up there. The Burns family ran a general store in a one-store town.

And still managed to do badly. This is Norman. They were Methodists, who my father called 'Baptists who could read.'

- It's a pleasure. This is my mother. A pleasure to meet you, Norman. Jessie tells me you're a poet. Related to the fishing newspaperman?

- That's my brother. Jessie says you just got your degree. Jessie was at the university. She was majoring in- Flapperism. Science, I believe. She dropped out.

Aunt Sally! She could learn from you. Let the young man breathe. He's not used to all this. He's a Presbyterian. Jessie's brother Neal stepped off the train trying to remember.

What a Davis Cup tennis player looked like. You look so good! He looks a little thin. How are you doing?

You look great! Neal, this is Norman. Norman, my brother Neal. Did you sit up all night? - I met some nice people. Did you get my card from Yellowstone? - What do you think about this tie?

- Let him breathe. He just got here.

Let's go eat. I've got chicken salad sandwiches in the car and baking chickens at home. Miller has given us cherries. I can make your favorite pie. Not the homemade beer. Boy, was a good year. Over the lips, past the gums, look out, stomach, here she comes.

What's the first station out there now? When I traveled that way, San Berdoo was there. San Berdoo and a lot of sand.

And a lot of desert, a hell of a lot of desert. We came back to Salt Lake City. We had to change at Salt Lake City. There was a hotel there that-Served oysters. Served oysters.

Norman, do you drink? Does he drink? - A little bit. Here's to the ol' fam-damn-ily. The tam-damn-ily!

Down the trenches. He's just tired. It's a long trip. At least he still has his appetite. How long are you planning to stay? I don't know.

I miss the ocean. What's it like?

It's big and blue. People ride on the waves. I was getting pretty good at it.

You get him so excited. Anywho, what was I talking about? So we'd ride those waves all day long, all the boys.

Ramon, me, Ronnie Colman. Ronald Colman? - I love Ronald Colman. People say I look like Ronald Colman. I can't picture Ronald Colman riding on waves. Some Kodak, huh? It's been a long trip.

Maybe you could go fishing with Norman sometime. That's a good idea. Wonderful, wouldn't it be? - He has a pole and everything. Oh, yes, everybody does.

You betcha. When would be a good time for you? - Friday's good. Oh, yes, he'll be there.

Won't you, honey? That's very kind. My pleasure. Maybe Paul could come, too.

That would be nice. I'm sure Paul would love to go fishing with us. Can I come? - Not this time, honey. Next time, okay? Why don't you go with Neal, Norman? Make your plans.

The only plan Neal had was a trip to Black Jack's bar, an old freight car. Set in the woods where any honest policeman would be unlikely to find it. It was this otter and her pups. L had a hell of a time tracking them because they turn white in winter. After a few shots of this vile whiskey brewed by Black Jack himself. Neal began to hold forth. He'd chosen Montana subjects to spin his lies about shooting, hiking, trapping.

Probably to impress the only other client at the bar. A ploy that was beginning to pay off. Anywho, she tried to lose me. Again and again. She went by the name of Old Rawhide.

About ten years before, she'd been elected beauty queen of Wolf Creek. She rode bareback standing up through the inhabitants, mostly male. Her skirts flew high, and she won the contest.

L couldn't feel my hands! I'm thinking about my dog Sport that's with me. If it gets any colder, l may have to slit him open. And stick my hands in to keep them from freezing.

It would have been a tough thing to do. But, hell, I did it before at the Yukon. God knows I love that damn dog. She still wore the divided skirts of a horsewoman. Although they must have been a hardship in her new profession. There, on a branch waiting to jump on their first deer.

Is the goddamn otter! What's an otter doing on the top of Roger's Pass?

L thought they swam in the creeks. Why don't you bring this lady a whiskey? I've got to shove off. Don't forget, ol' boy, Friday, fishing. They said I'd find you at your other office. Yeah, deadline.

Can't work there. You come for a drink?

Go fishing with me? That's marvy, because Jessie's got a brother. In from California and- I'm not gonna lie. He's a world champion peckerwood. Bait fisherman? - He didn't say. He's going to show up with a coffee can full of worms.

Hills Brothers. I'll lay a bet on it. L promised Jessie. Are you getting serious? - You son of a bitch. You're serious.

L don't know. Then we ought to do it. As I live and breathe.

Buster here wants to fish. You're late, Neal. Yeah, I didn't get in till late. L didn't get in at all, but I was here.

In Montana, three things we're never late for: church, work and fishing. Anywho-This is-We've met. Don't go away. Watch the first step.

You ready to- What? Buster wants to fish.

Neal, what about the bait? We're not going to catch anything.

It's too damn hot. May he catch three doses of clap. Sure glad I didn't go home and get some sleep. I'll catch up. Couldn't you find him? - The hell with him.

L thought we were supposed to help him. How the hell do you help that son of a bitch? By taking him fishing. He doesn't like fishing.

Doesn't like Montana. Sure as hell doesn't like me. Maybe what he likes is somebody trying to help him. You sank the beer, yeah?

- You bet your life. Oh, geez, I can taste it. Should we kill him? This is not good. She's got a tattoo.

L can get in myself. L don't need help.

You got anything to drink, buster? Buster's the one with the red ass. I'm in deep trouble. Want me to come and protect you?

Burns would love to meet the girlfriend. L ain't burned.

The sun don't bother me. What do you think about me spending the night with you and the folks? We come back here tomorrow, wipe this day oft the books. Come on, buster.

I'm as dry as dirt. Hark, fair Juliet speaks. What have you done to my boy? He tell asleep in the sun.

Oh, my Lord in heaven. It's all right. It's all right, honey. We'll fix it. You left him alone?

He brought someone, and- You better go home. L need a ride home.

You better hang on. What are you- l don't think you- They send trains down here all the time, without a schedule.

You're not- I don't think they can see us in here. Well, thanks for the flight. You're funny. How am I funny? You don't like my brother, do you? No, I do not like your brother.

L don't know any card tricks. But I like you, and I want to see you again. Hello, Jess.

How's your brother? - You both left him alone. I'm sorry about that. That was my fault. You're not forgiven. Was Norman forgiven? Norman's not funny.

I hung fresh towels on the washstand for you. Did you remember to powder my toothbrush?

Let Paul tell his latest story. The murder, the wreck or the fire? L think they should put you on the church beat. Quote: 'The Reverend Maclean had a nice roast while dining with his family. All, except for the poor, elder son.

Enjoyed it immensely.' - Norman, what's the matter? - He's not funny. He's not tunny. There are more important accomplishments, Norman. It's all right it you're dull.

We're very proud of you. L do have one story. No murder, no mayhem.

L interviewed the President. Calvin Coolidge? - The President?

A few days ago. He was in Dakota, fly-fishing. Fly-fishing in a suit and tie, white gloves and patent-leather shoes. L went right up to him. L said, 'Excuse me, sir. Can you tell me what they're biting on?'

He says, 'The end of my line.' - The end of my line. Then some of the locals came over, tied on a fly the size of a chicken.

Ol' Cal, he heaves it out there. Figured if he can't catch a trout, he'll scare one to death. Did you get a picture?

It'll be in the Sunday paper. 'Closemouthed Cal communes with the crappies.'

Mother, that was amazing. He usually only eats what he can hit on the road. That was tunny.

L do worry about you. I'm gonna run over- Hmm? L was just going to say.

L thought I'd go meet some of the old pals, being in town. Don't you wait up.

L plan on eating the rest of this when nobody's looking. L understand he's changed the spelling of our name.

'MacLean', with a capital 'L'. Now everyone will think we're lowland Scots. Howdy, Norman. Hi there, Mr. Who do you know at the University of Chicago?

Chicken in a car, car won't go. That's how you spell 'Chi-car-go!' 'Though nothing can bring back the hour of splendor in the grass.

Of glory in the flower, we will grieve not. Rather find strength in what remains behind.'

'In the primal sympathy which having been must ever be.' 'In the soothing thoughts that spring out of human suffering.' 'In the faith that looks through death.'

'Thanks to the human heart by which we live. Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, its tears.

To me the meanest flower that blows. Can give thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.'

We'll be rooting for you. Here's sandwiches. It was one week exactly before I spoke to Jessie again. She called to tell me Neal was going back to California. And that he would appreciate me seeing him off.

Though surprised by the invitation, l asked only one question of Jessie. Did she want me to come? And she answered 'Yes'. Don't forget to write. If he came back next summer, would you try and help him?

It you wanted me to, l would try. He's not coming back. At least he's got friends there.

Ronald Colman? Why is it that people who need the most help. Won't take it? L don't know. L don't cry, Norman. Can I show you something?

Only it it's something good. What do you think? What do I think? L think it's the berries!

- Have you ever been? - No, not anywhere. God, congratulations! The truth is, I'm not sure I want to leave.

It'll always be here. I'm not sure l want to leave you. L just come from there, downing my liquid lunch. You got to watch it, Fred. They're after you. Give us a couple boilermakers.

Well, here's to the heart, goddamn it. I'm in love with Jessie Burns.

Jesus Christ, Norm. With all the fish in the river. Not like her. Not like her. I'm real happy for you. Well, goddamn it, let's get the hell out of here and go celebrate.

Bananas today We've got homegrown potatoes - And vine-ripened tomatoes - It's a stinker. What do you mean? It's a classic! We have no bananas We have no bananas today Where are we? Where are we going? Figured you felt lucky tonight. L could use some of the luck.

Jesus Christ! Don't be the professor tonight. Hello, Frank. Well, my gal Sal. Get a drink for my brother.

In fact, how about a round on me? He's in love.

Take care of him, Sal. Not a good idea, Paul.

Fellas, got a chair for me? Not for you, Paul. What do you want? - What do you want? I know Paul says he's paying, but- Just games. We're getting out of here.

Bye-bye, sonny. I'm not leaving. These hands are hot. L can feel it. You can't go back. I'll be tine. They won't let you play.

Yes, they will. You're in debt up to your neck! Norm, it's my debt. It's my debt. Jesus Christ!

We never got to go fishing again. Maybe we could go tomorrow. We could get Dad to come. You ask him.: o. Boy, something smells good!

- Morning, everybody. It's the muffins. We're so glad you could make it. I wouldn't miss it. Have any new stories to tell us?

I've been offered a job at the University of Chicago. Teaching literature.

Starting tall term. I'm going to take it. L am pleased. Yes, I am pleased! - A professor! A real professor.

I'm proud of you. Be sure to take pictures. We're gonna catch some big fish. Yes, we are.

Remember those rocks we used to build our fireplace? - Those were big rocks. Nearly a billion years old. Halt a billion, Norman.

L believe the high road will suit me better. There was a time.

You'll make a killing. He'll make a killing. Let's fish together today.

What are they biting on? - What are they biting on? L said- Bunyon bugs. Want me to bring you one?

No, I'll come and get it. Bunyon bugs, stone fly number two. Thank you, O merciful professor of poetry and trout. I'm going to ask Jessie to marry me. Why don't you come with us to Chicago? It's miles away.

They've got more than a dozen papers there. You'd be right in the middle of things. What do you say? Come with us.

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I'll never leave Montana, brother. Oh me, oh my! Look at that fish! At that moment I knew surely and clearly. That I was witnessing perfection. You are a tine fisherman. Only need three more years before I can think like a fish.

You're already thinking like a deadstone fly. Mother's pictures. My brother stood before us, not on a bank of the Big Blackfoot River. But suspended above the earth. Free from all its laws, like a work of art. And I knew just as surely and just as clearly. That life is not a work of art.

And that the moment could not last. When the police awakened me one morning before Jessie and I left for Chicago.

I rose and asked no questions. He drove me back home down the length of the river. So that I could tell my father and mother. That Paul had been beaten to death by the butt of a revolver.

And his body dumped in an alley. Is there anything else you can tell me? Nearly all the bones in his hand were broken. His right hand. As time passed, my father struggled for more to hold onto. Asking me again and again had I told him everything.

Finally I said to him. 'Maybe all I really know about Paul.

Is that he was a fine fisherman.' 'You know more than that', my father said. 'He was beautiful.' That was the last time we ever spoke of my brother's death. Indirectly, though, Paul was always present in my father's thoughts.

L remember the last sermon l heard him give. Not long before his own death. Each one of us here today will, at one time in our lives. Look upon a loved one who is in need and ask the same question. 'We are willing to help, Lord. But what, if anything, is needed?'

It is true we can seldom help those closest to us. Either we don't know what part of ourselves to give. Or more often than not, the part we have to give. Is not wanted.

And so it is those we live with and should know who elude us. But we can still love them. We can love completely. Without complete understanding. Now nearly all those I loved and did not understand in my youth are dead. But I still reach out to them. Of course, now I'm too old to be much of a fisherman.

And now I usually fish the big waters alone. Although some friends think I shouldn't. But when I am alone in the half-light of the canyon. All existence seems to fade to a being with my soul and memories. And the sounds of the Big Blackfoot River and a four-count rhythm. And the hope that a fish will rise.

Eventually, all things merge into one. And a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood.

And runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words. And some of the words are theirs. I am haunted by waters. Special help.