When I first saw this scene from Harvey (in my case it was a high-school play, not the film), I thought this was the most boring, self-centered, asinine, unimaginative wish anyone could possibly wish for. (It fits the character perfectly.)
ELWOOD. Harvey says that he can look at your clock and stop it and you can go away as long as you like with whomever you like and go as far as you like. And when you come back not one minute will have ticked by.
CHUMLEY. You mean that he actually–? (Looks toward office.)
ELWOOD. Einstein has overcome time and space. Harvey has overcome not only time and space–but any objections.
CHUMLEY. And does he do this for you?
ELWOOD. He is willing to at any time, but so far I’ve never been able to think of any place I’d rather be. I always have a wonderful time just where I am, whomever I’m with. I’m having a fine time right now with you, Doctor.
CHUMLEY. I know where I’d go.
ELWOOD. Where?
CHUMLEY. I’d go to Akron.
ELWOOD. Akron?
CHUMLEY. There’s a cottage camp outside Akron in a grove of maple trees, cool, green, beautiful.
ELWOOD. My favorite tree.
CHUMLEY. I would go there with a pretty young woman, a strange woman, a quiet woman.
ELWOOD. Under a tree?
CHUMLEY. I wouldn’t even want to know her name. I would be–just Mr. Brown.
ELWOOD. Why wouldn’t you want to know her name? You might be acquainted with the same people.
CHUMLEY. I would send out for cold beer. I would talk to her. I would tell her things I have never told anyone–things that are locked in here. (Beats his breast. ELWOOD looks over at his chest with interest.) And then I would send out for more cold beer.
ELWOOD. No whiskey?
CHUMLEY. Beer is better.
ELWOOD. Maybe under a tree. But she might like a highball.
CHUMLEY. I wouldn’t let her talk to me, but as I talked I would want her to reach out a soft white hand and stroke my head and say, “Poor thing! Oh, you poor, poor thing!”
ELWOOD. How long would you like that to go on?
CHUMLEY. Two weeks.
ELWOOD. Wouldn’t that get monotonous? Just Akron, beer, and “poor, poor thing” for two weeks?
CHUMLEY. No. No, it would not. It would be wonderful.
ELWOOD. I can’t help but feel you’re making a mistake in not allowing that woman to talk. If she gets around at all, she may have picked up some very interesting little news items. And I’m sure you’re making a mistake with all that beer and no whiskey. But it’s your two weeks.
Now that I’m older and tireder…well, I still think it’s the most boring, self-centered, asinine, unimaginative wish anyone could possibly wish for. But I’ve gained just a little bit of sympathy for the pompous old jerk. Elwood’s right, of course: two weeks would be way too long, and it would definitely be a mistake not to let the woman talk. But the rest of it? Honestly, that does sound rather nice.
Anybody else think so? We could find a nice grove of maple trees together and take turns!
In Search of Secrets 