Episode 4
Bogus Psychiatrists
(Tragic music in background.)
CAPTION:
Hamlet
CAPTION:
By William Shakespeare
CAPTION:
Act One
(Quick
cut to a close shot of a big American car skidding round a corner. Music.
Montage of close ups of tires, foot on accelerator shots, etc. with a deafening
sound track. The car skids to a halt at the side of the curb. Pull out to
reveal it is in a smart Harley Street type location. The door opens and out
gets a man in black leotard, with make-up and a small crown -- Hamlet, in fact.
He goes into a doorway, presses the doorbell and waits. Cut to modern
psychiatrist's office. Hamlet is lying on the couch.)
Hamlet:
(Terry J.) It's just that everywhere I go it's the same old thing. All anyone
wants me to say is 'To be or not to be ...'
Psychiatrist:
(Graham) '... that is the question. Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
the slings and arrows of outrageous ...'
Hamlet:
(quickly) Yes, it's either that, or 'Oh that this too too solid flesh would
melt ...'
Psychiatrist:
(taking over) '... would melt, thaw and resolve itself into a dew. Or that the
everlasting had not fixed his canon 'gainst self slaughter ...'
Hamlet:
Yes. All that sort of thing. And I'm just getting really fed up.
Psychiatrist:
(picking up a skull) Now do the bit about 'Alas poor Yorick...'
Hamlet:
No. I'm sick of it! I want to do something else. I want to make something of my
life.
Psychiatrist:
No. I don't know that bit.
Hamlet:
I want to get away from all that. Be different.
Psychiatrist:
Well um... what do you want to be?
Hamlet:
A private dick!
Psychiatrist:
A private dick?
Hamlet:
Yes, a private dick!
Psychiatrist:
Why do you want to be a private dick?
Hamlet:
Why does anyone want to be a private dick? Fame, money, glamour, excitement,
sex!
Psychiatrist:
Ah! It's the sex, is it?
Hamlet:
Well, that's one of the things, yes.
Psychiatrist:
Yes, what's the sex problem?
Hamlet:
Well, there's no problem.
Psychiatrist:
Now, come on, come on. You've got this girl on the bed and she's all ready for
it...
Hamlet:
No, no, it's nothing to do with that.
Psychiatrist:
(getting excited) Now come on, come on, there she is, she's all ready for it.
She's a real stunner, she's got great big tits, she's really well stacked and
you've got her legs up against the mantelpiece.
Dr
Natal: (Eric) All right, Mr Butler, I'll take over. (a distinguished-looking
man in a suit enters; the psychiatrist leaves) Morning, Mr Hamlet. My name's
Natal. Sorry to keep you waiting. Now what seems to be the problem?
Hamlet:
Well, I was telling the other psychiatrist ...
Dr
Natal: He's he's not a psychiatrist.
Hamlet:
Oh. He said he was a psychiatrist.
Dr
Natal: Well ... yes ... um, he's a kind of psychiatrist he's ... he's not a
proper psychiatrist. He's not er ... fully qualified... in, um, quite the sort
of way we should want. Anyway the problem I believe is basically sexual is it?
(The
psychiatrist puts his head round door.)
Psychiatrist:
I asked him that!
Dr
Natal: Get out! (the psychiatrist goes; to Hamlet) Now then, you've got the
girl on the bed. You've been having a bit of a feel up during the evening.
You've got your tongue down her throat. She's got both her legs up on the
mantelpiece ...
(Enter
a distinguished-looking psychiatrist in a white coat.)
Third
Psychiatrist: (Michael, quietly and authoritatively, indicating the door) Dr
Natal ... out please!
Dr
Natal: I'm talking to a patient! Oh ... (he goes)
Third
Psychiatrist: Out please! I'm terribly sorry, sir. We have a lot of problems
here with psychiatrists. One of the risks in psychiatry, I'm afraid.
Unfortunately, they do tend to frighten the patient and they can cause real and
permanent damage to the treatment. But I assure you that I am a completely bona
fide psychiatrist. Here's my diploma in psychiatry from the University of
Oxford. This here shows that I'm a member of the British Psychiatric
Association, a very important body indeed. Here's a letter from another
psychiatrist in which he mentions that I'm a psychiatrist. This is my
Psychiatric Club tie, and as you can see the cufflinks match. I've got a copy
of 'Psychiatry Today' in my bag, which I think is pretty convincing. And a
letter here from my mother in which she asks how the psychiatry is going, and I
think you'll realize that the one person you can't fool is your mother. So if
you'd like to ask me any questions abut psychiatry, I bet I can answer them.
Hamlet:
No, no, it's all right, really.
Third
Psychiatrist: OK, you've got this girl on your bed, you've had a few drinks,
you've got her stretched out and her feet on the mantelpiece... (the intercom
buzzes) yes, what is it?
Intercom
Voice: There's a proper psychiatrist to see you, Dr Rufus Berg.
Third
Psychiatrist: Oh, oh my God! Ok, thank you. (he hurriedly changes into a police
constable's uniform) Right, thank you very much for answering the questions,
sir. We'll try not to trouble you again, sir. (exits hurriedly)
(A
fourth psychiatrist rushes in.)
Fourth
Psychiatrist: (Terry G.) Right you've got the girl down on the bed, you've got
her legs up on the mantelpiece...
(Two
men in white coats bundle him out. Dr Natal Enters.)
Dr
Natal: Well, well done, Mr Hamlet. You've done extremely well in our
disorientation tests.
Hamlet:
Oh? Oh!
Dr
Natal: You see, I'm sorry it might have confused you a little, but we do this
you see to try to establish a very good doctor/patient relationship, you see,
we do it to sort of, as it were, to break down the barriers. All right?
Hamlet:
Yes fine.
Dr
Natal: Good! Well, you've got her legs up on the mantelpiece, she's really a...
(The
two men come in and chase him out. Cut to a man at a consultant's desk in a
smart West End surgery.)
CAPTION:
Dr Bruce Genuine, Chairman of the Psychiatric Association
Dr
Bruce: (Terry J.) On behalf of the Psychiatric Association, I should like to
say that we are taking firm action to clamp down on the activities of bogus
psychiatrists. In fact in many areas of modern psychiatry computers are now
being increasingly used for the first basic diagnosis and this has gone a long
way towards eliminating the danger of unqualified impostors.
(Cut
to Hamlet in an office. A big, impressive-looking computer beside him.)
Computer:
(in tinny computer voice) You've had your tongue down her throat and she's got
her legs on the mantelpiece...
(The
door opens and a nurse appears.)
Nurse:
(Carol) Out!
(The
computer scuttles for the door, revealing that underneath it are six pairs of
legs, in pin-striped trousers and expensive shoes. Cut to the same computer in
a field. The nurse picks up a bazooka. The computer rises into the air, the
nurse fires at it and it explodes.)
Nationwide/Police
Helmets
('Nationwide'
type music and credits. Michael Charlton in a studio.)
Charlton:
(Eric) Good evening and welcome to 'Nationwide'. The programme where we do
rather wet things nationally and also give you the chance to see some rather
wet items in the Regions. Well, everyone is talking about the Third World War
which broke out this morning. But here on 'Nationwide' we're going to get away
from that a bit and look instead at the latest theory that sitting down
regularly in a comfortable chair can rest your legs. It sounds very nice
doesn't it, but can it be done? Is it possible or practical for many of us in
our jobs and with the sort of busy lives we lead to sit down in a comfortable
chair just when we want? We sent our reporter John Dull to find out.
(Cut
to Dull sitting in a chair on Westminster Bridge.)
Reporter:
(Graham) Well, here I am on London's busy Westminster Bridge, seeing just how
much time sitting down can take. Well, I arrived here by train at about 8:50,
it's now 9:05, so I've been here approximately twelve minutes and if it's any
encouragement, I must say that my legs do feel rested.
(A
policeman walks up to him.)
Policeman:
(Michael) Is this your chair?
Reporter:
Er ... well, no, it's a prop.
Policeman:
It's been stolen!
Reporter:
What?
Policeman:
This belongs to a Mrs Edgeworth of Pinner -- she's standing over there.
(Cut
to worried middle-aged lady, standing on the other side of the road, peering
across. She has an identical chair in one hand.)
Reporter:
Ah well, it's nothing to do with me. It's just a prop which the BBC ... aaargh!
(The
policeman pushes the reporter off and picks up the chair.)
Policeman:
It's got her name on the bottom. (he indicates: Mrs E. Edgeworth)
Reporter:
Well er ... perhaps you'd better give it back to her.
Policeman:
You don't believe I'm a policeman, do you?
Reporter:
Yes I do!
Policeman:
What am I wearing on my head?
Reporter:
A helmet
Policeman:
(correcting him) A policeman's helmet!
Reporter:
Yes.
Policeman:
(taking off his helmet and demonstrating) You see that?
Reporter:
Yes.
Policeman:
That little number there?
Reporter:
Yes.
Policeman:
That is a Metropolitan Area Identification Code. No helmet is authentic without
that number.
Reporter:
I see.
Policeman:
Kids helmets, helmets you get in toy shops, helmets you buy at Christmas. None
of them is authentic ... Hang on. (he turns and crosses the busy road)
Reporter:
Oh could I ...
Policeman:
Hang on!
(He
goes across to Mrs Edgeworth, and tries to grab the other chair from her. Mrs
Edgeworth resists. He clouts her and pulls the chair away. He brings it back
across the road and sits down next to the reporter.)
Policeman:
Mind you I didn't join the police force just to wear the helmets you know. That
just happens to be one of the little perks. There are plenty of jobs where I
could have worn a helmet, but not such a nice helmet. (Mrs Edgeworth is
gesticulating; another policeman comes up and drags her away) This helmet, I
think, beats even some of the more elaborate helmets worn by the Tsar's private
army, the so-called Axi red warriors. You know about them?
Reporter:
Well, no I don't.
Policeman:
Ah! Their helmets used to look like ... you got any paper?
Reporter:
Well only these scripts.
(The
policeman gets up, looks up the street, and selects a businessman with a
briefcase, who is hurrying away from him. The policeman runs up to him, grabs
his arm, twists it up behind his back and wrenches the briefcase from his hand.
He opens it, gets out some paper, then drops briefcase before the amazed owner,
and ambles back to his chair, neatly grabbing a pen from a passer-by's inside
pocket.)
Policeman:
I'll have that!
Man:
I say!
(The
policeman sits down again and starts to draw, talking the while.)
Policeman:
Now then. Their helmet was not unlike the bobby's helmet in basic shape. It had
an emblem here, and three gold -- and in those days it really was gold, that's
part of the reason the Tsar was so unpopular -- three gold bands surmounted by
a golden eagle on the apex here. Pretty nice helmet, eh?
Reporter:
Yes.
Policeman:
I think the domed helmet wins every time over the flattened job, you know, even
when they're three cornered ... (suddenly his eyes light on two office
secretaries opening their packed lunch on a nearby seat) ... you want something
to eat?
Reporter:
(sensing what's going to happen, hurriedly) Well no, er really ...
Policeman:
(approaching the girls and getting out his notebook) Hang on. You can't park
here you know.
Women:
(bewildered) We're not parked!
Policeman:
No parked! What's that then?
Women:
That's our lunch.
Policeman:
Right. I'm taking that in for forensic examination.
Women:
Why?
Policeman:
Because it might have been used as a murder weapon, that's why! (the girls look
at each other; the policeman grabs their lunch) Yeah, not bad. Could be worse.
(to the reporter) Beer?
Reporter:
(desperately) No, no, please ... honestly ... please ...
(The
policeman walks off. There is a crash of breaking glass. An alarm bell starts
to ring. The reporter winces. The policeman walks into shot again, holding two
bottles of beer. He sits down, opens th beers with his teeth and hands one to
reporter who is very embarrassed.)
Policeman: Now, the Chaldeans, who used to inhabit the area in between the Tigris and Euphrates rivers, their helmets were of the modular restrained kind of type ...
Father-in-Law
To lyrical music the camera pans across the road, and comes across a couple making love on the pavement. Pedestrians step over them.
Carol:
(Carol) Oh Robert, tell me I'm beautiful.
Robert:
(Terry J.) Oh you are, you are!
Carol:
Oh Robert, do you mean that?
Robert:
Of course I do.
Carol:
Tou're not just saying that because I asked you?
Robert:
Of course not.
Carol:
Oh Robert ... Robert, are you sure it doesn't put you off?
Robert:
What?
Carol:
My father wanting to come and live with us.
Robert:
No, of course I don't mind your father coming to live with us.
Carol:
He wouldn't just be living with us.
Robert:
What do you mean?
Carol:
Well, he finds it very difficult to get to sleep on his own, so I said he could
sleep with us.
Robert:
He wants to put his bed in our room?
Carol:
No, no, of course not.
Robert:
Oh good ...
Carol:
Our bed is plenty big enough for three ...
Robert:
What?
Carol:
He'd just get into bed and go to sleep.
Robert:
No. I'm not having that.
Carol:
Oh Robert, I thought you loved me?
Robert:
Well I do, but ...
Carol:
Well, he wouldn't look.
Robert:
He's bound to peek.
Carol:
No, no, he wouldn't honestly.
Robert:
No! No! No!!
(Cut
to the three of them in bed. Robert is in the middle. Father wears striped
pyjamas, the others are nude. There is an uncomfortable silence.)
Father:
(Graham) You young couple just carry on. Take no notice of me ... (silence;
they smile half-heartedly) I don't want to feel as though I'm getting in the
way.
Carol:
Oh no dad, you're not.
Robert:
No, no.
Father:
Good.
(Silence
again.)
Carol:
Well, I think I'll get to sleep.
Father:
Are you sure?
Carol:
Oh yes, I'm a bit tired after the wedding.
Father:
Bob, what about you?
Robert:
Oh yes, all right, yes.
Father:
Oh well, I seem to be O/C lights.
Carol:
(to Robert) Good night, darling.
Robert:
Good night.
Father:
Good night!
(He
switches the light off. It is pitch dark. There is a long pause, then a strange
scraping noise like a pencil being sharpened. The scraping is followed by
sawing and is eventually replaced by short sharp knocking sounds. This goes on
for some time.)
Carol:
Father. Father, what are you doing?
Father:
I'm making a boat.
Carol:
What?
Father:
It's the Cutty Sark. It's a model I've been making in the dark for some years
now.
Carol:
Well, wouldn't it be better with the light on?
Father:
No, no, I'm making it in the dark, that's the point.
(There
is a click. The light goes on. He looks disappointed. In his hands is a
completely shapeless mass of wood and nails.)
Father:
Oh dear, not as accurate as I thought.
Robert:
It's not the Cutty Sark!
Father: Well it hasn't got its sails yet. Oh well I'll ... I'll have a look at it in the dark room in the morning. Good night. (grunts from the others who are already snuggling down; lights go off; silence)
Hamlet and Ophelia
(Animated
opening titles.)
(Banging
on the wall from next door.)
Man:
(Terry G.) Shut up! Will you shut up in there!
(Cut
to a middle-aged man with small moustache and neat pyjamas banging on the wall
with what appears to be an Indian club.)
Man:
Shut up! (It goes quiet next door) That's better.
(He
walks to a side wall and hangs his club on a hook beneath big old-fashioned
art-nouveau sign clearly labelled 'The Burlington Wall-banger'. He goes across
to bed and gets in. In the bed are a party of four Japanese businessmen in
suits with lapel badges, two lady American tourists with rain hats and cameras,
three other moustached English gentlemen in pyjamas, four Tour De France
riders, three Swedish businessmen, and Winston Churchill. In the corner of the
room are three Tour De France bicycles. All the people ae watching TV. All in
the bed are slightly tear-stained and sad, and eating popcorn and crisps,
utterly absorbed. On TV we hear a Hamlet sad speech.)
Hamlet:
(Terry J.) I am myself indifferent honest, but then I could accuse me of such
things that it were better my mother had not borne me.
(Cut
to the TV set in the room. Close in on TV set to see Hamlet lying beside
Ophelia, who is gazing at him intently. It is the same Hamlet we saw in the
psychiatrist's scene. They are in one of those rather austere modern theatre
sets.)
Hamlet:
O fair Ophelia, nymph, in thy orisons, be all my sins remembered ...
Ophelia:
(Connie Booth) So anyway, you've got the girl on the bed and her legs are on
the mantelpiece ...
(The
nurse from the psychiatrist's office enters.)
Nurse:
(Carol) Out! (bundles her off)
Boxing Match Aftermath
(Animation:
Ends with a poster 'Boxing Tonite! The Killer vs. The Champ. 15 Rounds'.)
(Cut
to a dressing room at Madison Square Gardens, table, chairs, towels, and the
usual paraphernalia. Noise of a crowd outside. The door opens and in comes Mr
Gabriello, and two assistants carrying a boxer on a stretcher. Smoke, action,
excitement come in with them.)
Mr
Gabriello: (Michael) That was a great fight, Champ, a great fight, you hear! Oh
boy, what a fight, Champ, what a great fight! You nearly had him, Champ, you
nearly had him... where's his head?
First
Assistant: I got it in here, Mr Gabriello.
(He
holds up a carrier bag. Gabriello goes over to it, looks inside and shouts into
it.)
Mr
Gabriello: You were great, Champ, d'you hear, you were great!
First
Assistant: (looking in the bag) He's got a nasty cut over his eye.
Mr
Gabriello: Yeah, I think it was a mistake him wearing spectacles. (gives the
bag to the assistant) Oh well, get that sewn onto his body in time for the
press pictures.
First
Assistant: OK, Mr Gabriello.
Mr
Gabriello: (to second assistant) Wasn't he great my boy?
Second
Assistant: (Eric) He was great, Mr Gabriello.
Mr
Gabriello: The way he kept fighting after his head came off!
Second
Assistant: He was better when the head came off, Mr Gabriello. He was really
dodging the guy.
Mr
Gabriello: Yeah, I reckon that if he could've lasted till the end of that first
minute, he would've had the Killer worried.
Second
Assistant: Sure, Mr Gabriello.
Mr
Gabriello: Oh he was great. Did you see his left arm?
Second
Assistant: No!
Mr
Gabriello: OK, we'll look around the hall after everybody's gone.
Second
Assistant: Do you realize Mr Gabriello, some of those guys out there paid over
$2,000 for a ringside seat.
Mr
Gabriello: And where did the head land? Right at the back, that's justice. (the
door opens; a black cleaner comes in) What d'you want?
(The
cleaner holds up a carrier bag.)
Black
Man: (Terry Gilliam) This your boy's head?
Mr
Gabriello: No, no, we've got his head. He ain't hurt that bad.
Second
Assistant: (looking in the bag) Hey, that's Gerry Marinello. He fought the
Killer last week.
Mr
Gabriello: OK, give it to me. I'm seeing his trainer tomorrow. I'll give it to
him.
(The
cleaner is ushered out.)
Second
Assistant: Hey, Mr Gabriello. The press is still outside. Are you ready for
them?
Mr
Gabriello: How's the Champ?
First
Assistant: (working away with needle and thread) Well, the head's on OK. But
there's still a left arm missing.
Mr
Gabriello: OK, well keep the dressing gown kinda loose, OK. (Gabriello goes to
door and opens it) OK boys, come on in!
(The
press surge in. The fighter is propped up.)
First
Reporter: (Terry Jones) Hey Mr Gabriello, Mr Gabriello. Did you expect your boy
to last the full twenty-eight seconds?
Mr
Gabriello: This boy has never let me down. He's the pluckiest goddamn fighter
I've ever trained.
Second
Reporter: (Carol) Were you worried when his head started to come loose?
Mr
Gabriello: No, no, we were expecting that. I told him to expect it to and he
did. He ain't stupid.
First
Reporter: Hey, can we have a word with the Champ?
Mr
Gabriello: Yeah OK. But keep the questions simple.
First
Reporter: Hey Champ! How're you feeling?
Mr
Gabriello: (angrily) I said keep the questions simple!
Second
Reporter: Mr Gabriello. People are saying that the kid ought to be buried. His
head's come off in the last six fights.
Mr
Gabriello: There's no question of burying the kid. He's just reaching the top.
Second
Reporter: Well, shouldn't he just stay in hospital?
Mr
Gabriello: No, he ain't going to no hospital. He's got the return fight next
week.
(Shot
of the 'New York Times' headline 'Champ to be kept alive for big return'.)
Boxing Commentary
(Cut
to a hospital ward. Numerous doctors and nurses are listening to the radio.)
Radio
Voice: (Michael) And there's Frank Sinatra leaving the ring. Behind him is
George Raft, another great boxing fan, Martin Bormann, acknowledging the
applause, and with him of course is Gus Himmler, who did an awful lot for the
sport in his country in the early 1940s. And here comes the Champ now and he
seems in good shape to meet the Killer once again. Before an audience, some of
them will have paid $920,000 million for the privilege of seeing this boy get
beaten up. And there's the bell.
Patient:
(Having a heart attack on the bed in the corner) Aaatghhh!
All:
Quiet!!
Radio
Voice: And a left and a right and a right jab that's taken the Champ's shoulder
off. And here's the Killer again with a right and another left and a bash with
a hammer and a terrific smack with a heavy thud right into the skull and
there's a gaping hole right through the Champ's body now. And now the Killer's
working on the cut eye with a series of beautifully placed punches and the
head's coming loose. (the doctors and nurses getting increasingly excited) The
Champ must try and keep his head on. The Killer's kicked him in the groin and
he's bitten half his left buttock off and the referee's stepped in with a
warning there. What a plucky fighter this Champ is. He's fighting as well as
I've ever seen him. Must be losing blood at a rate of a pint a second now. It's
everywhere. Certainly those who paid one and a half million dollars for those
ringside seats are really getting their money's worth. They're covered in it.
And his head's off! (everyone cheers) His head that's come off in so many
fights is off in the thirty-first second. It's rolled away down to the left ...
but what's happening? The Killer's being talked to by the referee. There's the
Champ ... plucky little body racing around the ring, trying to find his
opponent. And the Killer has been disqualified. (pandemonium breaks out in the
ward - some patients cheering, doctors thumping them in disagreement) He's been
disqualfied ... this great fighter who has killed more than twenty people in
his career has at last been defeated by this courageous headless little
southpaw from New York. And there's a great roar here as the referee raises the
arm of the new World Heavyweight Champion. What a pity the rest of his body
wasn't there to see it. (general disappointment; someone changes channels)
Second
Radio Voice: (Terry J.) Well here in London it's 12:30 and time for 'The
Robinsons'. (everyone perks up) An everyday story of bla-di-bl-di-bla ...
(sings 'Archers' theme tune) da di da di da di da ... and so on.
Piston Engine
Mrs
Non-Robinson: (on radio) Morning Mrs Robinson.
Mrs
Robinson: (on radio) Mornin Mrs Non-Robinson.
Mrs
Non-Robinson: Been shopping?
Mrs
Robinson: No, ... I've been shopping.
(During
this exchange there have been six cuts to close-ups of radios of different
shapes and sizes.)
Mrs
Non-Robinson: What'd you buy?
(Pull
out to reveal a pepperpot. Mrs Non-Gorilla sitting beside a radio on a park
bench.)
Mrs
Robinson: (on radio) A piston engine.
Mrs
Non-Robinson: What d'you buy that for?
Mrs
Robinson: It was a bargain.
Mrs
Non-Gorilla: (Eric) Bloody rubbish. (she turns the radio off)
(Quick
cut to a hospital, doctor on a bed listening to a radio. It switches off.)
Doctor:
(Graham) I wanted to listen to that!
(Cut
back to Mrs Non-Gorilla. Another pepperpot approaches.)
Mrs
Non-Gorilla: Morning Mrs Gorilla.
Mrs
Gorilla: (Michael) Morning Mrs Non-Gorilla.
Mrs
Non-Gorilla: Have you been shopping?
Mrs
Gorilla: No ... been shopping.
Mrs
Non-Gorilla: Did you buy anything?
Mrs
Gorilla: A piston engine!
(She
reveals a six-cylinder car engine on a white tray, on a trolley.)
Mrs
Non-Gorilla: What d'you buy that for?
Mrs
Gorilla: Oooh! It was a bargain.
(Start
to pan away from them, their voices become fainter)
Mrs
Non-Gorilla: Oooohhh!
(Pan
across a civic park, of which the only occupants are about ten pepperpots,
dressed identically, scattered across on benches. One pepperpot is in a
wheelchair. We come in to Mrs Non-Smoker, unwrapping a parcel and calling to
the birds.)
Mrs
Non-Smoker: (Terry J.) Come on little birdies ... come on little birdies ...
tweet tweet ... come and see what mummy's got for you ...
(She
unwraps the parcel revealing a leg of lamb which she hurls at the gathered
birds. A screech. She kills a pigeon. She reaches in a another bag and produces
two tins of pineapple chunks and throws them.)
Mrs
Non-Smoker: Come on little birdies ... tweety tweety ... oooh look at this ...
tweet tweet ... ooohhh nice one ... come on little birdies ...
(She
chortles with delight as she hurls a huge jar of mayonnaise which smashes
messily. She then throws a large frozen turkey, a jar of onions, a bag of
frozen peas, and a bottle of wine. We widen as Mrs Smoker, with an identical
piston engine to the last pepperpot, comes up to Mrs Non-Smoker. Quite a large
area in front of Mrs Non-Smoker is littered with packaged foods and dead birds;
a bird is pecking at a tin of pate; a small pond in front of her has a swan
upside down with its feet sticking in the air, a huge tin floating beside it.)
Mrs
Non-Smoker: Oohh hello, Mrs Smoker.
Mrs
Smoker: (Graham) Hello Mrs Non-Smoker.
Mrs
Non-Smoker: What, you been shopping then?
Mrs
Smoker: Nope ... I've been shopping!
Mrs
Non-Smoker: What d'you buy?
Mrs
Smoker: A piston engine!
Mrs
Non-Smoker: What d'you buy that for?
Mrs
Smoker: It was a bargain!
Mrs
Non-Smoker: How much d'you want for it?
Mrs
Smoker: Three quid!
Mrs
Non-Smoker: Done. (she hands over the money)
Mrs
Smoker: Right. Thank you.
Mrs
Non-Smoker: How d'you cook it?
Mrs
Smoker: You don't cook it.
Mrs
Non-Smoker: You can't eat that raw!
Mrs
Smoker: Ooooh ... never thought of that. Oh, day and night, but this is
wondrous strange ...
Mrs
Non-Smoker: ... and therefore is a stranger welcome it. There are more things
in Heaven and Earth Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy. But come,
the time is out of joint. Oh cursed spite, that ever I was born to set it
right. Let's go together.
(They
get up and go. Fade to black.)
A Room in Polonius’ House/Dentists
CAPTION:
Act Two - A Room in Polonius's House
(Cut
to Frank Bough type presenter. Behind him are sports pictures.)
Presenter:
(Michael Palin) Hello, and welcome to `A Room in Polonius's House'. Well
tonight is European Cup night. One result is already in from Munich. The
European Cup, first round, second leg, Bayern Munchen 4397, Wrexham 1. So
Wrexham going through there on aggregate. Well, now it's time for racing, so
let's go straight over to Epsom and Brian McNutty.
(Cut
to a dentist's surgery. A dentist is filling a patient. He talks to camera.)
CAPTION:
Live from Epsom
Dentist:
(Terry Jones) Well over here at Epsom, there are chances a-plenty for those who
want to make a good start in ...
Patient:
Dentistry.
Dentist:
Dentistry. It's a well-off suburb, so most people have their own teeth and
surgeries are opening at a rate of four or five a week.
(Cut
to housewife in a back garden standing in front of a washing line with really
nasty stained washing on it: some man's trousers with very nasty stain on
crotch and running down the leg; a badly torn sheet with melted chocolate
biscuit stuck on it; a huge bra, with cups eighteen inches across; two pieces
of bacon and a fried egg pegged on the line; and more dirty washing.)
CAPTION:
Live from Epsom
Housewife:
(Graham) Well, it's only forty-four minutes from the West End on the train and
it's not too built up, so you can have a nice garden. And the people of Epsom
are a very nice class of person.
(Cut
to a property developer on a main street.)
CAPTION:
Live from Epsom
Property
Developer: (Michael) Well here in High Street Epsom, there are ample
opportunities for all kinds of redevelopment. As you can see (he indicates old
houses) behind me now there are a high level of low density consumer units,
still not fully maximizing site value. This could be radically improved by a
carefully planned program of demolition. And of course most of the occupants
are ... er ... elderly folks, so they wouldn't put up much of a fight.
Jockey Interviews
(Cut
to Epsom racecourse, and a presenter, Brian MacThighbone, up against the
paddock rail.)
CAPTION:
Live from Epsom
Brian:
(Eric Idle) Good afternoon. Well in fact there's still a few minutes to go
before the main race on the card this afternoon - the Queen Victoria Handicap.
So let's have a quick word with the winner of the last race, one of the
season's top jockeys - Ronnie Mau-Mau. (a jockey's cap comes into shot, which
is all we ever see of him) Good afternoon, Ronnie.
First
Jockey: (Michael) Good afternoon, Brian.
Brian:
(pointing his stick-mike down) A very fine ride there, Ronnie.
First
Jockey: Well, a fine horse, Brian. You know you can't go wrong.
Brian:
Do you fancy your chances for the Derby?
First
Jockey: (vigorously nodding) Oh very definitely, very definitely, indeed,
certainly Brian.
Brian:
Well, let's just see if a colleague of yours agrees with that. Let's just have
a quick word with Desmond Willet. Afternoon Des.
(A
different silk hat comes into the bottom of frame. Again all we see is the
jockey's cap.)
Second
Jockey: (Graham Chapman with an Irish accent) Afternoon, Brian. (he shakes his
head) No chance, no chance at all.
First
Jockey: (nodding vigorously) No, no I think you're wrong there, Des, with the
right kind of going, he's going to be in there at the finish, Des.
Second
Jockey: (shaking vigorously) No chance, there's no chance.
Brian:
Well in fact I can see last season's top jockey, Johnny Knowles. (two caps move
over) Good afternoon, Johnny.
(Pause.
Not even a cap is seen.)
Third
Jockey: (faintly) Hello, Brian.
Brian:
Er, could we have a box for Johnny, please. (a cap comes into sight) Thank you.
Third
Jockey: Hello, Brian
Brian:
That's better. Well there you are. Three very well known faces from the racing
world. Thanks very much for coming along this afternoon, lads.
First
Jockey, Second Jockey and Third Jockey: Not at all. (vigorous nodding of caps)
Brian:
And best wishes for the Derby.
First
Jockey, Second Jockey and Third Jockey: Ah, thank you Brian, thanks very much.
(they leave nodding)
Brian: Well in fact I hear they're ready for us now at the start of the main race this afternoon. So let's go right away and join Peter at the start.
Queen Victoria Handicap
(A
view of the starting stalls, shot so we cannot see inside.)
CAPTION:
3.15 Queen Victoria Handicap
Voice
Over: (Eric) Well they're under starter's orders for this very valuable Queen
Victoria Handicap. And they're off, (the starting stall doors fly open; out
come eight identically dressed Queen Victorias who go bustling off up the
field) and Queen Victoria got a clean jump off, followed by Queen Victoria,
Queen Victoria and Queen Victoria. It's Queen Victoria from Queen Victoria and
Queen Victoria. It's Queen Victoria making the early running on the inside. And
at the back Queen Victoria already a couple of lengths behind the leaders.
Queen Victoria has now moved up to challenge Queen Victoria with Queen Victoria
losing ground. Queen Victoria tucked in neatly on the stand side with a clear
view. Queen Victoria still the back marker as they approach the halfway mark,
but making ground now, suddenly past Queen Victoria with Queen Victoria, Queen Victoria
and Queen Victoria still well placed as they approach the first fence. (a low
angle shot as the Queen Victorias appear over the fence and thunder towards the
camera) And at the first fence it's Queen Victoria just ahead of Queen Victoria
and Queen Victoria falling away in third place. And Queen Victoria in the lead
as they ...
(Cut
back to the presenter in the studio; he is completely dressed as Queen
Victoria, apart from his face.)
Presenter:
(Michael) Well a very exciting race there at Epsom. And now over to the
European Cup at Barcelona where the latest news is that Miguel Otana, the burly
Real Madrid striker, was sent off for breaking wind in the forty-third minute.
He'd already been cautioned for pursing his lips earlier on in the game and now
he's off! So let's see a playback of that ... Brian.
(Cut
to Brian, dressed the same way.)
Brian:
(Eric) Yes ... er ... well as you can see ... there's Otana now (brief stock
shot of football match) ... he gets the ... er ... through ball from Gomez (cut
back to Brian) and er ... he makes no attempt to play the ball. He quite
deliberately lets off! And to my mind he was within the box and the referee had
no option whatsoever but to send him off.
(Cut
to the presenter.)
Presenter:
Jimmy?
(We
cut to the real Jimmy Hill dressed as Queen Victoria, veil, crown and all.)
Jimmy
Hill: (Jimmy Hill) Good evening.
Presenter:
What do you make of that?
Jimmy
Hill: Well the referees really are clamping down these days. Only last week the
Belgian captain was sent off for having a Sony radio cassette player. And
Gonerelli, the huge Italian defender, was sent off in Turin for having his
sitting and dining room knocked through to form an open living area.
(Cut
to the presenter.)
Presenter:
Hamlet?
(Cut
to Hamlet.)
Hamlet:
(Terry J.) Good evening.
(Cut
quickly back to the presenter.)
Presenter:
Well you've got the girl on the bed and her legs up on the mantelpiece ...
(The
nurse enters.)
Nurse:
(Carol) Out, out, come on, come on, out ... (she hustles the presenter out of
studio)
(Animated
sketch.)
CAPTION:
Act Five - A Ham In The Castle
(Mix
to the theatre set we saw before. All the cast are dressed as Queen Victorias,
except for Hamlet and Ophelia.)
First
Queen Victoria: Let four captains bear Hamlet like a soldier to the stage. For
he was likely had he been put on to have proved most royally ...
CAPTION:
The End
(They
come on and take bows. Superimposed Python credits in Shakespearean style and
graphics.)
CAPTION:
Monty
Python
by
William Shakespeare
Dramatis
Personae
Hamlet
- Terry Jones
A
bachelor friend of Hamlet's
Graham
Chapman
Quite
a butch friend of Hamlet's but still a bachelor
Terry
Gilliam
A
friend of Hamlet's who, though married, still sees Hamlet occasionally
Michael
Palin
A
very close bachelor friend of Hamlet's who, though above suspicion, does wear
rather loud shirts
Eric
Idle
Another
part of the dramatis personae:
A
friend of Hamlet's who loves bachelors - Carol Cleveland
A
Jimmy Hill near London - Jimmy Hill
A
bachelor gentleman - Bob E. Raymond
An
Ophelia - Constance Booth
A
loony, but not a bachelor - Sir K. Joseph
Additional
blank verse: J. Cleese (no relation) (of Hamlet's, that is)
Personae
non dramatis but technicalis
(Some
bachelors, some not)
A
maker-upper
Maggie
Weston
A
costume designer and bachelor
Andrew
Rose
A
cameraman of London
Stan
Speel
A
sound recordist of ill repute
John
Blight
An
editor of film who is partly bachelor and partly vegetable with mineral
connections
Bob
Dearberg
A
studio sound man
Mike
Jones
A
lighting Scotsman
Jimmy
Purdie
A
visual effector keen on bachelors
John
Horton
An
assistant producer friend of Hamlet's
Brian
Jones
A
designed who prefers married men but knows quite a few bachelors
Valerie
Warrender
A
professional producer and amateur bachelor
Ian
MacNaughton
A
Bachelor Broadcasting Corporation
BBC
Colour.
(Fade
out. Fade up on a moor. An explosion has just take place. Out of the smoke a
ragged man walks towards the camera.)
Man: (Michael) And then...