The Day of the Dolphin (1973) – Plot SummaryDirected by Mike Nichols and written by Buck Henry (loosely based on Robert Merle’s novel), this sci-fi thriller stars George C. Scott as brilliant marine biologist Dr. Jake Terrell, who works with his wife Maggie (Trish Van Devere) at a secluded island research facility funded by the mysterious Franklin Foundation.
For years, Jake has been secretly training two dolphins—Alpha (nicknamed “Fa”) and his mate Beta (“Bea”)—to understand and speak simple English phrases. The breakthrough comes when the affectionate Fa, separated from Bea, plaintively squeaks “Fa loves Pa!” (with “Pa” being his name for Jake) and other basic sentences, marking a historic leap in human-animal communication.
George C. Scott as Jake Terrell, bonding with his “children” of the sea.The team in action—pure ’70s ecological vibes.Underwater playtime with Fa.The idyllic research is disrupted when shady journalist Curtis Mahoney (Paul Sorvino) infiltrates the facility, leading to the dolphins’ kidnapping. Jake soon uncovers a chilling conspiracy: rogue elements tied to the Foundation plan to use the intelligent, obedient dolphins as unwitting assassins, training them to plant a mine on the President’s yacht.
In a race against time, Jake tracks the dolphins, confronts the plotters, and faces heartbreaking moral dilemmas. Fa escapes and returns briefly, allowing emotional reunions (“Fa loves Pa!”), but Jake ultimately realizes the danger humans pose to his beloved creatures.That iconic, tear-jerking moment.Fa racing to intercept the deadly mission.In the bittersweet climax, Jake commands the dolphins to flee forever: “Men bad… Go far… Never come back.”
The film ends on a poignant note of loss and liberation, with Jake and Maggie adrift, as the dolphins vanish into the open ocean.Classic poster art—capturing the wonder.The tagline says it all: “Unwittingly, he trained a dolphin to kill the President…”A quirky mix of heartfelt animal drama, paranoid thriller, and ecological fable—complete with Georges Delerue’s haunting score. It’s peak ’70s weirdness: touching, absurd, and oddly moving
