And now, for something completely different.
It's...
FACE THE PRESS
Hello. Tonight on "Face the press" we're going to examine two different views of contemporary things.
On my left, is the Minister for Home Affairs...
who is wearing a striking organza dress in pink tulle, with matching pearls and a diamante collar necklace.
The shoes are in brushed pigskin with gold clasps, by Maxwell of Bond Street.
The hair is by Roger, and the whole ensemble is crowned by a spectacular display of Christmas orchids.
And on my right, putting the case against the government, is a small patch of brown liquid
which could be creosote or some extract used in industrial varnishing.
Good evening. Minister, may I put the first question to you?
In your plan "A better Britain for us", you claim that you would build
88 000 million billion houses a year in the Greater London area alone.
In fact, you've built only 3 in the last 15 years.
- Are you a bit disappointed with this result? - No, no.
I'd like to answer this question, if I may, in two ways.
Firstly, in my normal voice, then in a kind of silly high-pitched whine.
Well, while the Minister is answering this question,
I'd just like to point out the minister's dress has been made entirely by hand
from over 300 pieces of Arabian shot silk
especially threaded for the Minister by Vargar's, of París.
The low slim-line has been cut off-the-shoulder to heighten the effect of the minister's fine bone structure.
Well I think the minister is coming to the end of his answer now
so let's go back over and join the discussion. Thank you very much, Minister.
Today saw the appointment of a new head of...
- Don't I say any more? - No fear!
Today saw the appointment of a new Head of Allied Bomber Command.
Air Chief Marshal sir Vincent 'Kill the Japs' Forster. He's in our Birmingham studio...
Hello Sailors! Listen, guess what.
The Minister of Aviation has made me head of the RAF Ola Pola.
Hello. Mrs. Rogers?
No! Ooh, I must be in the wrong house!
So from now on we're going to do things my way.
For a start David Hockney is going to design the bombs. And I've seen the plans...
That must be the new gas cooker.
NEW COOKER SKETCH
- Morning! Mrs. G. Crump? - No, Mrs. G. Pinnet.
- This is 46 Egernon Crescent? - No, Road! Egernon Road.
Road, yes, says here. Yeah. Right, could I speak to Mrs G. Crump please?
There's nobody here of that name. It's Mrs. G. Pinnet, 46 Egernon Road.
- It says Crump here, don't it Harry? - Yes, it's on the invoice.
Yes, definitively Crump.
Well there must have been a mistake, because the address is right, and that's definitely the cooker I ordered - a blue and white CookEasi.
- Well you can't have this. This is Crump. - Oh dear, what are we going to do?
Well I don't know. What we can do for you is take it back to the Depot,
get a transfer slip from Crump to Pinnet, and put it on a special delivery.
Yeah, that's best. We'll special it for you, we'll get it down there today and you'll get it back in 10 weeks.
Ten weeks! Blimey, can't you just leave this one?
- What, this ? What, leave it here? - Yes.
- Well I dunno. I suppose we could. - She'd have to fill out a temporary dispatch note.
- We could leave it on a temporary dispatch note. - Well that's sorted out then. What a mess...
I know, it's ridiculous really, but there you are. Glad we could be of such a help.
- Would you sign it down there please, Mrs Crump? - Pinnet.
Listen, just for the books to make it a bit easier, could you sign it Crump-Pinnet?
Right. Thank you very much, dear. The cooker's yours.
Sorry about the bother... but there you are ... You know ... cheerio!
Hey, excuse me! Cooey!
- Er, can you put it in the kitchen? - You what?
- Well I can't cook on it unless it's connected up. - We didn't realize you had an installation invoice.
- An MI. - No, we can't touch it without an MI, you see.
- Or a R16. - If it's a special.
- No, it's not special. Special's back at the Depot. - No, the special's the same as installation invoice.
- So it's an R16. - What is an installation invoice?
- A pink form from Reading. - We wondered what that was. Now these are the forms.
That's the one, love. This should be all I need. Hang on. This is for Pinnet. Mrs G. Pinnet.
- That's right, I'm Mrs. G. Pinnet. - Well we've got Crump-Pinnet on the invoice.
- Shall I sign it Crump-Pinnet then? - No no no, not an MI., no!
- No - that's from Area Service at Reading. - No, Cheltenham isn't it?
- No, not this side of the street. - Look, I just want it connected up!
- What about London Office? - Well they haven't got the machinery.
- Not now. - What! The Hounslow Depot?
- No, they're still on standard pressure. - Same with Twickenham.
- Surely you can connect up a gas cooker. - Oh yeah, we could connect it up, love, but not unless it's an emergency.
- But this is an emergency! - No it's not. An emergency is 290...
'where there is actual or apparent loss of combustible gaseous substances'.
- Yes, like a leak. - Yes, or a 478. - No, that's valve adjustment.
But there can't be a leak unless you've connected it up!
- No, quite, we'd have to turn it on. - Can't you turn it on and connect it up?
No. What we can do, this is between you and me, I shouldn't really be telling you this,
we'll turn your gas on, make a hole in your pipe,
you ring Hounslow emergency, they'll be around here in a couple of days.
What, a house full of gas! I'll be dead by then.
Oh well, in that case you'd have the South East Area Manager round here like a shot.
Ah yes. 'One or more persons overcome by fumes', you'd have Head Office, Holbom, round here.
- Really? - Yes, that's murder you see.
- Or a suicide. - No, that's S42.
Still, I thought it was Hainault.
No, Central area and Southall Marketing Division, they're both on the S42 now.
- And they'd be able to connect it up? - Oh, they'd do the lot for you, love.
- And they'd come round this afternoon? - Well what is it now... 11:30...
- Murder... they'll be round here by two. - Oh well that's wonderful.
Oh well, right love, if you'd like to lie down here.
- Ok, Harry. - Ok, gas on.
Right, deep breaths, love. Ring Head Office would you Norman...
- Shall I go through maintenance? - You'd better go through Deptford maintenance.
- Peckham's on a 207... - That's LeWisham. What about Tottenham?
VACANCY - PILOT NEEDED TO FLY VINTAGE MODEL
EUROPEAN MONARCHS APPLY BRI. 5331
- Good morning. - Morning sir, can I help you?
- Help me? Yes, I'd say you can help me. - Yes, sir?
I came by your advert: "Small white pussy cat for sale. Excellent condition."
- Ah, you wish to buy it? - That's right.
Just for the hour. Only I aint gonna pay more'n a fiver cos' it aint worth it.
Well it's come from a very good home, it's house trained.
"Chester drawers."
- I'd like some Chester drawers, please. - Yes, sir.
- Does it go? - It's over there, in the corner.
"Pram for sale. Any offers."
- I'd like a bit of pram, please. - Yes, sir. That's in good coondition.
Oh good I like them in good condition, eh? eh?
Yes, here it is you see.
"Baby-sitter." No, it's a baby-sitter...
I don't want a baby-sitter. "Be a blood donor", that's it.
I'd like to give some blood please.
Oh, spit, which one is it?
"Blond prostitute will indulge in any sexual activity for four quid a week".
What does that mean?
- The Times, please. - Oh yes sir, here you are.
MINISTRY OF SILLY WALKS
Good morning. I'm sorry to have kept you waiting,
but my walk has become rather sillier recently so it takes me rather longer to get to work.
- Now then, what was it again? - Well sir, I have a silly walk...
and I'd like to obtain a Government grant to help me develop it.
I see, may I see your silly walk?
Yes certainly, yes.
- Err that's it, is it? - Yes that's it, yes.
It's not particulary silly, is it?
I mean, the right leg isn't silly at all and the left leg merely does a forward aerial half turn every alternate step.
Yes, but I think that with Government backing I could make it very silly.
Mr Pudey, the very real problem is one of money.
I'm afraid that the Ministry of Silly Walks is no longer getting the kind of support it needs.
You see there's Defense, Social Security, Health, Housing, Education, Silly Walks ...
They're all supposed to get the same.
But last year, the Government spent less on the Ministry of Silly Walks
than it did on National Defence.
Now we get £348 million a year,
which is supposed to be spent on all our available products.
- Coffee? - Yes, please.
- Mrs TwoLumps, would you bring us 2 coffees please? - Yes, Mr Teebag.
Out of her mind.
Now the Japanese have a man who can bend his leg back over his head
and back again with every single step.
While the Israelis... ah, here's the coffee.
Thank you - lovely.
- You're really interested in silly walks, aren't you? - Oh rather, yes.
Well take a look at this, then.
Mr Pudey, I'm not going to mince words with you. I'm going to offer you a Research Fellowship on the Anglo-French silly walk.
La Marche Futile?
Bonjour...
et maintenant ... comme d'habitude, au sujet du Le Marché Commun.
Et maintenant, je vous presente, encore une fois
mon ami, le pouf célèbre, Jean-Brian Zatapathique.
Merci, mon petit chou-chou Brian Trubshawe.
Et maintenant avec le pied de droite, avec le pied de gauche,
et maintenant l'Anglais-Française Marche Futile, et voilà!
And now, a choice of viewing on BBC television.
Just started on BBC2, the semi-final of episode 3 of "Kierkegaard's Journals"
starring Richard Chamberlain, Peggy Mount and Billy Bremner.
And on BBC1, "Ethel the frog".
Good evening. On "Ethel the Frog" tonight we look at violence. The violence of British Gangland.
Last Tuesday a reign of terror was ended when the notorious Piranha brothers,
Doug and Dinsdale, after one of the most extraordinary trials
in British legal history were sentenced to 400 years inprisonment for crimes of violence.
Tonight Ethel the Frog examines the rise to power of the Piranhas...
the methods they used to subjugate rival gangs...
and their subsequent tracking down and capture by the brilliant Superintendent...
Harry "Snapper" Organs of Q Division.
Doug and Dinsdale Piranha were born, on probation, in this house in Kipling Road
the eldest sons in a family of sixteen.
Their father, Arthur Piranha, a scrap metal dealer and TV quizmaster...
was well known to the Police and a devout Catholic.
In January 1928, he had married Kitty Malone...
an up-and-coming EastEnd boxer.
Doug was born in february 1929 and Dinsdale two weeks later...
And again a week after that.
Their next-door neighbour was Mrs April Simnel.
Kipling Road was a typical sort of East End street.
People running out of each other's houses with each other's property all day long.
- They were a cheering lot though. - Was it a terribly violent area?
Oh... Yes, cheerful and violent.
I remember Doug was very keen on boxing, until he learned to walk...
Then he took up putting the boot in the groin; oh he was very interested in that.
His mother used to have such trouble getting him to come in for his tea.
He'd be out here, putting his little boot in, you know... Bless him.
Kids were very different then, they didn't have their heads filled with all this cartesian dualism.
At the age of 15, Doug & Dinsdale started attending the Ernest Pythagoras Primary School in Clerkenwell.
You taught the Piranha brothers English. What do you remember most about them?
Anthony Viney.
When the Piranhas left school, they were called up but they were found
by an Army Board to be too mentally unstable even for National Service.
Denied the opportunity to use their talents in the service of their country
they began to operate what they called "The Operation".
They would select a victim and then threaten to beat him up...
if he paid them the so-called "protection" money.
Four months later, they started another operation which they called "The Other Operation".
They selected another victim and threatened not to beat him up if he didn't pay them.
One month later, they hit upon the "Other Other Operation".
In this the victim was threatened if he didn't pay them, they would beat him up.
This, for the Piranha brothers, was the turning point.
Doug and Dinsdale Piranha now formed a gang which they called "The Gang"...
and used terror to take over night clubs, billiard halls, gaming casinos and race tracks.
When they tried to take over the MCC, they were, for the only time in their lifes, slit up a treat.
As their empire spread however, we in Q Division were keeping tabs on their every move...
by reading the color supplements.
A small time operator who fell foul of Dinsdale Piranha was Vince Snetterton-Lewis.
Well one day I was sitting at home threatening the kids...
I look out through the hole in the wall and I saw this tank driver.
One of Dinsdale's boys gets out.
He comes up all nice and friendly-like and says Dinsdale wants to have a talk with me.
So he chains me to the back of the tank, and takes me for a scrape round at Dinsdale's..
And Dinsdale's there, in a conversation pit with Doug...
and Charles Paisley, the baby crusher, and a couple of film producers...
and a man they call Kierkegaard, who just sat there biting the heads of whippets
and Dinsdale says, "You've been a naughty boy, Clement."
And he splits me nostrils open and saws me leg off, and pulls my liver out.
And I say "my name's not Clement."
And... Then he loses his temper and nails my head to the floor.
- He nailed your head to the floor? - At first, yeah.
Another man who had his head nailed to the floor was Stig O'Tracey.
Stig, I've been told Dinsdale Piranha nailed your head to the floor.
No, no, never, never. He was a smashing bloke.
He used to give his mother flowers and that. He was like a brother to me.
But the Police have film of Dinsdale actually nailing your head to the floor.
- Oh yeah, well - he did that, yes. - Why?
Well he had to, didn't he? I mean... Be fair, there was nothing else he could do.
- I had transgressed the unwritten law. - What had you done?
Er... He never told me that. But he gave me his word that it was the case and that's good enough for me with old Dinsy.
I mean he didn't want to nail my head to the floor, I had to insist.
He wanted to let me off. There's nothing Dinsdale woulnd't do for you.
- And you don't bear him any grudge? - A grudge! Old Dinsy? He was a real darling.
I understand he also nailed your wife's head to a coffee table.
- Isn't that right Mrs. O'Tracey? - Oh no, no, no.
Yeah well, he did do that, yes.
He was a cruel man... But fair.
Vince, after he nailed your head to the floor, did you ever seen him again?
Yes, after that I used to go round to his flat every Sunday lunchtime to apologize.
And we'd shake hands, and then he'd nail my head to the floor.
- Every Sunday? - Yes, but he was very reasonable about it.
I mean one Sunday, when my parents were coming round for tea
I asked him if he minded very much not nailing my head to the floor that week.
And he agreed, and just screwed my pelvis to a cake stand.
The only friend I ever had.
I wouldn't hear a word against him.
Lovely fellow.
Clearly, Dinsdale inspired tremendous loyalty and terror amongst his business associates.
But what was he really like?
I walked out with Dinsdale on many occasions
and found him a most charming and erudite companion.
He was wont to introduce one to many eminent persons.
celebrated American singers, members of the aristocracy and other gang-leaders.
- How had you met then? - Through his work for charity.
He took a warm interest in Boys' Clubs, Sailors' Homes,
Choristers' Associations, Scouting Jamborees and of course the Household Cavalry.
- Was there anything unusual about him? - I should say not!
Dinsdale was a perfecty normal person in every way...
Except... Except in as much as he was convinced that he was being watched by a giant hedgehog
which he reffered to as "Spiny Norman".
How big was Norman supposed to be?
Normally he was wont to be about 12 feet from nose to tail...
but when Dinsdale was very depressed...
Norman could be anything up to 800 yards long.
When Norman was about, Dinsdale would go very quiet...
his nose would swell up and his teeth would start moving about
and he'd become very violent and claimed that he'd laid Stanley Baldwin.
Dinsdale was a gentleman.
What's more, he knew how to treat a female impersonator.
It's easy for us to judge Dinsdale Piranha too harshly.
After all, he only did what most of us simply dream of doing.
I'm sorry.
After all, a murder is only an extroverted suicide.
Dinsdale was a looney, but he was a happy looney. Lucky bastard!
Most of these strange tales concern Dinsdale, but what of Doug?
One man who met him was Luigi Vercotti.
I'd been running a succesful escort agency
high class, no really, high class girls... We didn't have any of that, that was right out.
And I decided... Excuse me.
Hello? No, not now. Shtoom... shtoom...
Right, we'll have the "watch" ready for you at midnight.
The watch... The Chinese watch.
Yes, right oh, bye bye... Mother.
Anyway I decided then to open a high class night club for the gentry at Biggleswade
with international cuisine, cooking, top-line acts, and not a cheap clip joint for picking up tarts, that was right out, I deny that completely.
And one night Dinsdale walked in with a couple of big lads
one of whom was carrying a tactical nuclear missile.
They said I had bought one of their fruit machines and would I pay for it.
- How much did they want? - 3/4 of a million pounds.
- Then they went out. - Why didn't you call for the police?
I'd noticed that the lad with the thermonuclear device was the Chief Constable for the area.
Anyway, a week later they came back, said that the cheque had bounced
and that I had to see... Doug.
Doug. Well, I was terrified of him. Everyone was terrified of Doug.
I've seen grown men pull their own heads off rather than see Doug.
- Even Dinsdale was frightened of Doug. - What did he do?
He used... sarcasm. He knew all the tricks,
dramatic irony, metaphor, pathos, puns, parody, litotes and... satire.
By a combination of violence and sarcasm, the Piranha brothers, by February 1966,
controlled London and the Southeast. In February, though, Dinsdale made a big mistake.
Latterly Dinsdale had become increasingly worried about Spiny Norman.
He had come to the conclusion that Norman slept in an aeroplane hangar
at Luton Airport.
And so on Feb 22nd 1966, at Luton Airport...
Even the police began to sit up and take notice.
The Piranhas realised they had gone too far and that the hunt was on.
They went into hiding and I decided on a subtle approach, viz. some form of disguise,
as the old helmet and boots were a bit of a giveaway.
Luckily my years with Bristol Rep. stood me in good stead, as I assumed a bewildering variety of disguises.
I tracked them to Cardiff, posing as the Reverend Smiler Egret.
Hearing they'd gone back to London, I assumed the identity of a pork butcher, Brian Stoats.
On my arrival in London, I discovered they had returned to Cardiff.
I followed as Gloucester from King Lear.
Acting on a hunch, I spent several months in Buenos Aires as Blind Pew,
returning through the Panama Canal as Ratty, in Toad of Toad Hall.
Back in Cardiff, I relived my triumph as Sancho Panza in Man of la Mancha,
which the Bristol Evening Post described as 'a glittering performance of rare perception',
although the Bath Chronicle was less than enthusiastic. In fact it gave me a right panning. I quote:
'as for the performance of Superintendent Harry "Snapper" Organs as Sancho Panza,
the audience were bemused by his high-pitched Welsh accent and intimidated by his abusive ad-libs.'
'Sancho Panza (Mr Organs) spoilt an otherwise
impeccably choreographed rape scene by his unscheduled appearance
and persistent cries of "What's all this then?"'
- Never mind, Snapper, love, you can't win 'em all. - True, constable. Could I have my eye-liner, please?
- Telegram for you, love. - Good-oh. Bet it's from Binky.
Those flowers are for Sgt. Lauderdale from the gentleman waiting outside.
- 30 seconds, Superintendent. - Oh blimey, I'm on.
- Is me hat straight, constable? - Oh, it's fine.
- Right, here we go, Hawkins. - Oh, merde, Superintendent.
Good luck, then.
Read all about it. Piranha brothers escape.
Dinsdale? Dinsdale? Dinsdale?
Well, that's all for now. And so until next week...
And now for something completely different.
JARROW - NEW YEAR'S EVE 1911
JARROW, 1912
Come in.
Trouble at mill.
Oh no. What sort of trouble?
Pardon?
I don't understand what you're saying.
One of the cross beams has gone out askew on the treddle.
- Well what on earth does that mean? - I don't know.
Mr Wentworth just told me to come in here and say that there was trouble at the mill, that's all.
I didn't expect a kind of Spanish Inquisition.
Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!
Our chief weapon is surprise... Surprise and fear, fear and surprise...
our two weapons are fear and surprise.
And ruthless efficiency...
Our three weapons are fear, surprise, and ruthless efficiency...
and an almost fanatical devotion to the Pope.
Our four...no...
amongst our weapons... amongst our weaponry...
are such elements as fear, surprise...
I'll come in again.
I didn't expect a kind of Spanish Inquisition.
Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!
Amongst our weaponry are such diverse elements as
fear, surprise, ruthless efficiency,
and an almost fanatical devotion to the Pope, and nice red uniforms
- Oh damn! I can't say it, you'll have to say it. - What?
You'll have to say the bit about 'Our chief weapons are ...'
I couldn't do that...
I didn't expect a kind of Spanish Inquisition.
Er.... Nobody...um....
- Expects. - Expects.
- Nobody expects the...um... - Inquisition.
I know...I know!
Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition. In fact, those who do expect...
- Our chief weapons are... - Our chief weapons are...um...er...
- Surprise... - Surprise and...
Stop. Stop there! Stop there. Whew!
Our chief weapon is surprise, blah, blah, blah, blah.
Cardinal, read the charges.
You are hereby charged that you did on diverse dates commit heresy against the Holy Church.
- My old man said... - That's enough.
Now, how do you plead?
We're innocent.
We'll soon change your mind about that!
Fear, surprise, and a most ruthless...
Now, Cardinal, the rack!
You... Right!
Tie her down.
Right! How do you plead?
- Innocent. - Ha! Right!
Cardinal, give the rack (oh dear)
give the rack a turn.
I...
I know. I know you can't. I didn't want to say anything.
I just wanted to try and ignore your crass mistake.
- It makes it all seem so stupid. - Shall I, um...?
Oh, go on, just pretend for God's sake.
Ah, hello, you don't know me, but I'm from the BBC.
We were wondering if you'd come and answer the door in a sketch over there, in that sort of direction...
You wouldn't have to do anything, just open the door and that's it.
Oh, well all right, yes.
Jolly good. Come this way.
Yes, we're on film at the moment, you see.
It's a link, is it?
Yes that's right, that sort of thing, yes, a link.
It's all a bit zany, you know a bit madcap funster...
Frankly I don't fully understand it myself,
the kids seem to like it.
I much prefer Des O'Connor, Rolf Harris, Tom Jones, you know...
TO THE SKETCH
You do a lot of this sort of thing, do you?
Quite a lot yes, quite a lot. I'm mainly in comedy.
I'd like to be in Programming Planning actually, but I've got a degree.
Joke, sir? Guaranteed amusing.
As used by the crowned heads of Europe. Has brought tears to the eyes of Royalty.
'Denmark has never laughed so much', The Stage.
Nice little novelty number 'a naughty Humphrey' breaks the ice at parties.
Put it on the table. Press the button. It vomits.
Absolutely guaranteed. With refills.
'Black soap', leave it in the bathroom,
they wash their hands, real fungus grows on the fingers.
Can't get it off for hours.
Frighten the elderly: real snakes.
Comedy hernia kit.
Plastic flesh wounds - just keep your friends in stitches.
Hours of fun with 'honeymoon delight' empty it into their beds,
real skunk juice.
They won't forget their wedding night.
Sticks to the skin, absolutely waterproof.
Amuse your friends: CS gas canisters
smells, tastes and acts just like the real thing.
Can blind, maim or kill.
Or for drinks, why not buy a 'wicked willy' with a life-size winkle
serves warm beer. Makes real cocktails. Hours of amusement!
Or get the new Pooh-Pooh machine. Embarrass your guests,
completely authentic sound.
Or why not try a new 'naughty nightie'
put it on and it melts, just watch their faces.
Guaranteed to break the ice at naughty parties.
Go on, go on.
What?
Do the punchline.
What punchline?
The punchline for this bit.
I don't know it. They didn't say anything about a punchline.
Oh! Oh well in that case I'll be saying goodbye then, sir...
Goodbye then, sir.
What's the punchline?
Punchline? I don't think there's a punchline scheduled, is there?
Where are we? A week 39.4 no, 39.7.
it's Friday, isn't it?
Oh ... here we are. Oh!
Ha, ha, ha, very good! Ha, ha, ha, very good.
What a good punchline.
Pity we missed that.
Still, never mind, we can always do it again. Make a series out of it.
Now if you'll just sign there,
I'll put this through to our contracts department
and you should be hearing from them in a year or two.
Can you give me a lift back?
Ah - can do. But won't.
We were wondering if we could possibly borrow your head for a piece of animation.
What?
Oh jolly good. Thanks very much. You will get expenses.
Sergeant, somehow we've got to get in there and get it.
- It's gonna be difficult. - You need some sort of diversion?
- Sure, but what? - Well we could...
It's got to be...
Wait! I've got it.
Well done, soldier.
- Load and fire! - Yes, sir.
Fire!
Damn!
Ready? Aim!
Fire!
We are not amused.
Gentlemen, our MP saw the PM this AM
and the PM wants more LSD from the PIB by tomorrow AM or PM at the latest.
I told the PM's PPS that AM was NBG so tomorrow PM it is for the PM nem. con.
Give us a fag or I'll go spare.
Now, the fiscal deficit with regard to the monetary balance,
the current financial year excluding invisible exports,
but adjusted of course for seasonal variations
and the incremental statistics of the fiscal
and revenue arrangements for the forthcoming annual budgetary period terminating in April.
I think he's talking about taxation.
Bravo, Madge. Well done.
Taxation is indeed the very nub of my gist.
Gentlemen, we have to find something new to tax.
I understood that.
If I might put my head on the chopping block so you can kick it around a bit, sir...
Well most things we do for pleasure nowadays are taxed,
except one.
What do you mean?
Well, er, smoking's been taxed, drinking's been taxed
but not ... thingy.
Good Lord!
You're not suggesting we should tax... thingy?
Poo poo's?
No.
Thank God for that. Excuse me for a moment.
No, no, no - thingy.
Number ones?
No, thingy.
Thingy!
Ah, thingy.
Well it'll certainly make chartered accountancy a much more interesting job.
I would put a tax on all people who stand in water...
To boost the British economy I'd tax all foreigners living abroad.
I would tax the nude in my bed.
No - not tax. What is the word? Oh - 'welcome'.
I would tax Racquel Welch.
I've a feeling she'd tax me.
Bring back hanging and go into rope.
I would cut off the more disreputable parts of the body
and use the space for playing fields.
I would tax holiday snaps.
This is Uncle Ted in front of the house.
This is Uncle Ted at the back of the house.
And this is Uncle Ted at the side of the house.
This is Uncle Ted back in front of the house, but you can see the side of the house.
And this is Uncle Ted even nearer the side of the house,
but you can still see the front.
This is the back of the house, with Uncle Ted coming round the side to the front.
And the is the Spanish Inquisition hiding behind the coal shed.
Oh! I didn't expect a Spanish Inquisition.
Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!
Now, old woman!
You are accused of heresy on three counts.
Heresy by thought, heresy by word, heresy by deed, and heresy by action.
Four counts.
Do you confess?
I don't understand what I'm accused of.
Ha! Then we shall make you understand.
Biggles!
Fetch... the cushions!
Here they are, lord.
Now, old lady, you have one last chance.
Confess the heinous sin of heresy, reject the works of the ungodly
two last chances.
And you shall be free...
Three last chances.
You have three last chances, the nature of which I have divulged in my previous utterance.
I don't know what you're talking about.
Right! If that's the way you want it.
Cardinal! Poke her with the soft cushions!
Confess! Confess! Confess!
It doesn't seem to be hurting her, my lord.
- Have you got all the stuffing up one end? - Yes, lord.
Hm! She is made of harder stuff!
Cardinal Fang!
Fetch... the comfy chair!
The comfy chair?
So you think you are strong because you can survive the soft cushions.
Well, we shall see.
Biggles! Put her in the Comfy Chair!
Now. You will stay in the Comfy Chair until lunch time,
with only a cup of coffee at eleven...
- Is that really all it is? - Why, yes lord.
I see. I suppose we make it worse by shouting a lot, do we?
Confess, woman.
Confess!
I confess!
Not you!
I confess.
Who was that?
I confess.
Well Madam, I'm glad you've come to see me.
As a doctor I shall be trying to help you and do everything I can to assist you...
I'm a bit deaf.
Louder, please. I still can't hear.
Pick up, I can't hear you. I'm deaf...
And now for the very first time on the silver screen
comes the film from two books that once shocked a generation.
From Emily Brontë's 'Wuthering Heights' and from the 'International Guide to Semaphore Code',
Twentieth Century Vole presents 'The Semaphore Version of Wuthering Heights'.
On the pages of history...
from the dark imperious days of Imperial Rome...
we bring you a story that shattered the world,
a tale so gripping that they said it could not be filmed.
A unique event in cinema history
From the makers of:
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, have you reached a verdict?
We have, m'lud.
And how do you find the defendant?
Two words.
First word.
Rope? String?
Point?
Belt?
Tie?
Cravat? Silk square?
Knot?
Knot!
Second word.
Two syllables.
First syllable.
Bird?
Swimmer?
Breast stroke?
Brian Phelps?
No, no, no, he was a diver.
Esther Williams then.
No, no, don't be silly. How can you find someone 'Not Esther Williams'.
Fish.
- Fish wheeze. - Fish wheeze?
Fish breathe.
Fish breathe, throat.
Fish breathe, throat? GILL!
Gill.
Not gill.
Second syllable.
Not gill...
Drink.
Sip? Imbibe?
Not gill ... cup?
Not gillcup!
You have been found not gillcup of the charges brought against you
and may leave this court a free man.
Right. My turn.
Four words.
First word - shout?
- Bellow? - Call?
Call!
Second word is very small.
- A? - An?
- Up? - The?
The.
Call the... Third word.
Gill?
- Fish? - Adam's apple.
Neck.
Sounds like neck?
Next.
Call the ... next!
Fourth word, three syllables.
First syllable...
- Ear? - Hear.
Can't hear.
Deaf!
Call the next def-
Bottom.
Seat?
Trouser? Cheek?
End! Call the next defend-
Ant!
Call the next defendant!
Call the next defendant. The Honourable Mr Justice Kilbraken.
If I may charge you m'lud, you are charged that on the fourteenth day of June 1970, at the Central Criminal Court,
you did commit acts likely to cause a breach of the peace.
How plead you m'lud, guilty or not guilty?
Not guilty. Case not proven. Court adjourned.
No, no, no.
No, you're in the dock, m'lud.
I'm a judge, m'lud.
So am I, m'lud, so watch it.
Hah! Call this a court.
Call this a court. Call this a court.
Shut up. Now get on with the spiel.
M'lud, and my other lud, the prosecution will endeavour to show m'lud, that m'lud
ah, not you m'lud, that m'lud, m'lud,
while passing sentence at the Central Criminal Court
blotted his copy book. Call exhibit Q.
Q?
Sorry did I say Q? I meant A.
Sorry, call exhibit A.
Exhibit A m'lud, Miss Rita Thang,
an artist's model, Swedish accordion teacher
and cane-chair sales lady,
was found guilty under the Rude Behaviour Act
in the accused's court.
The accused, m'lud, sentenced her to be taken from this place and brought round to his place.
- Objection, m'lud. - Objection sustained.
You shut up! Objection overruled.
The accused then commented on Miss Thang's bodily structure,
made several not-at-all legal remarks on the subject of fun
and then placed his robes over his head and began to emit low moans.
- Have you anything to say in your defense? - I haven't had any for weeks.
Oh no? What about that little number you've got tucked away in Belsize Park?
- Oh, I never! - Oh no. Ho! Ho! Ho!
All right then what about 8a Woodford Square?
You say anything about that and I'll do you for treason.
M'lud if we could continue...
He's got a Chinese bit there.
No, that's contempt of court.
- It was only a joke. - Contempt of court.
However, I'm not going to punish you because we're so short of judges at the moment,
what with all of them emigrating to South Africa.
I'm going tomorrow; I've got my ticket.
Get out there and get some decent sentencing done.
Ooh, England makes you sick.
Best I can manage here is life imprisonment.
It's hardly worth coming in in the morning.
Now, South Africa? You've got your cat of nine tails, you've got four death sentences a week,
you've got cheap drinks, slave labour and a booming stock market.
I'm off, I tell you.
Yes, I'm up to here with probation and bleeding psychiatric reports.
That's it, I'm off. That's it. Right.
But I'm going to have one final fling before I leave,
so I sentence you to be burnt to the stake.
Blimey! I didn't expect the Spanish Inquisition.
Two, er, three to the Old Bailey please.
- Look they've started the credits. - Hurry. Hurry. Hurry.
There's the lighting credit, only five left.
Hell, it's the producer - quick!
Nobody expects the Spa... Oh bugger!
my, isn't it hot in here!
and now for something completely different.
and now for something more completely different.
it's...
monty python's flying circus.
[captioning sponsored by the u.s. department of education
and a&e television networks]
"oh, mr. belpit, your legs are so swol... swollen."
"oh, mr. belpit?"
"oh, mr. belpit, your legs are so swollen."
"oh, mr. belpit..."
excuse me, excuse me.
i saw your advertisement
for flying lessons
and i'd like to make an application.
nothing to do with me.
i'm not in this show.
oh, i see.
"oh, mr. belpit..."
do you... do you...
do you know about them--
the flying lessons?
no, nothing to do with me.
i'm not in this show.
this is show five.
i'm not in until show eight.
oh, i see.
i'm just learning my lines, you know.
"oh, mr....
oh, mr. belpit, your legs..."
a bit awkward, eh?
yes.
i'm a bit stuck.
well, try over there.
"oh, mr. belpit..." oh, yes, thanks.
not at all. thanks a lot.
"oh, mr. belpit, they're so swol... swollen."
"oh! m... mr. belpit, your legs..."
excuse me, i saw your advertisement
for flying lessons
and i'd like to make an application.
appointment?
yes, yes.
certainly.
would you come this way, please?
morning, mr. jones, mr. barnes.
morning.
morning, mrs. wills.
morning, love.
take this to marketing, would you?
just follow me.
oh, be careful.
yes, nearly tripped.
we'll be there soon.
good. it's a long way, isn't it?
oh, get hold of that.
watch it.
morning.
up the stairs.
yes.
be careful, very steep.
almost there.
morning.
will you come this way, please?
in here, please.
thank you.
hello, i saw your advertisement
for flying lessons
and i'd like to make an appointment.
well, mr. anemone's on the phone at the moment
but i'm sure he won't mind if you go on in.
through here.
ah, won't be a moment.
make yourself at home.
no, no, well, look, you can ask mr. maudling
but i'm sure he'll never agree.
not for 50 shillings, no.
no. bye-bye, gordon.
bye-bye.
oh, dear.
bye-bye.
missed. now, mr. uh...
chigger.
mr. chigger, so you want to learn to fly.
yes.
right, well, up on the table
arms out, fingers together, knees bent!
no, no, no.
up on the table!
arms out, fingers together, knees bent.
now, head well forward.
now, flap your arms.
go on, flap faster.
faster, faster, faster, faster, faster, faster.
now jump!
rotten, rotten.
you're no bloody use at all.
you're an utter bloody wash-out.
you make me sick, you weed!
now, look here!
all right, all right.
i'll give you one more chance.
get on the table.
look, i came here to learn
how to fly an aeroplane.
a what?
i came here to learn
how to fly an aeroplane.
oh, an aeroplane.
oh, i say, we are grand, aren't we?
oh, oh, no more buttered scones for me, mater.
i'm off to play the grand piano.
pardon me while i fly my aeroplane.
now, get on the table!
look, no one in the history of the world
has ever been able to fly like that.
oh, i suppose mater told you that
while you were out riding.
well, if people can't fly
what am i doing up here?
you're on a wire.
oh, a wire?
i'm on a wire, am i?
of course you're on a bloody wire.
i am not on a wire; i am flying.
you're on a wire.
i am flying!
you're on a wire!
i'll show you whether i'm on a wire or not.
give me the "oop."
what?
oh, i don't suppose
we know what an oop is.
i suppose pater thought they were a bit common
except on the bleeding croquet lawn.
oh, a "hoop."
"oh! an hoop."
thank you, your bleeding highness.
now... look.
go on!
right the way along.
all right, all right, all right.
there, now, where's the bleeding wire?
that hoop's got a hole in.
oh, eton and magdalene, the hoop has an hole in.
of course it's got a hole in!
it wouldn't be a hoop otherwise, would it, mush?
no, there's a gap in the middle, there.
oh, a gap, a gap in one's hoop.
pardon me, but i'm off to play the grand piano.
look, i can see you're on a wire.
look, there it is.
look, i told you, you bastard--
i'm not on a wire.
you are. there is.
there isn't.
is.
isn't! is!
anyway, this rather pointless bickering
went on for some time until...
gosh, i am glad
i'm a fully qualified airline pilot.
the british airline pilots association
would like to point out that it takes a chap six years
to become a fully qualified airline pilot, and not two.
thank you.
i didn't want to seem
a bit of an old fusspot just now, you know
but it's just as easy to get these things right
as they are easily found in the balpa handbook.
oh, one other thing-- in the sherlock holmes last week
tommy cooper told a joke about a charter flight
omitting to point out that one must be a member
of any organization that charters a plane
for at least six months beforehand
before being able to take advantage of it.
did rather spoil the joke for me, i'm afraid.
yes, ah, yes, yes.
my wife has just reminded me that on a recent high chaparral
kathy kirby was singing glibly about "fly me to the stars"
when, of course, there are no scheduled flights of this kind
or even chartered, available to the general public
at the present moment.
although, of course, when they are
balpa will be in the vanguard...
or the trident.
little joke for the chaps up at balpa house.
uh, one other small point.
why is it that these new lurex dancing tights
go baggy at the knees after only a couple of evenings' fun?
bring back the old canvas ones, i say.
it is incredible, isn't it
that in these days when man can walk on the moon
and work out the most complicated
hire purchase agreements
i still get these terrible headaches.
all right, i seem to have wandered a bit
but still, no harm done.
jolly good luck.
are you going to be in there all day?
other people want to go, you know!
the door's jammed, if you ask me.
ah! that's better.
oh, my god.
ah, i'm terribly sorry.
i thought this was the bally toilet.
this is the control cabin.
oh, i know that.
i'm a flying man, you know, yes.
bally stupid mistake.
cloud's heavy.
what's the reading?
uh, 4.8-- steady.
if they had all these dials in the toilet
there wouldn't be room
for anything else, would there?
hello, geneva, this is roger five-o.
what is your cloud reading? hello, geneva.
i wouldn't fancy flying one of these
sitting on the toilet.
i mean, it'd take the glamour
out of being a pilot, wouldn't it?
flying around the world sitting on a toilet.
geneva here.
4.9-- heavy. over.
serious?
no, not if it keeps at that level, no.
mind, mind you
if you did fly it from the toilet
it'd leave a lot more space up here
wouldn't it?
well, i'd better get back to the cabin, then.
uh, sorry about the silly intrusion.
bally stupid.
the door's jammed.
bally piece of luck.
oh, hello.
everything all right at the back?
yes, they're quiet as dormice.
dormice?
all right, don't anybody move.
uh... except to control the airplane--
you can move a little to do that.
can i move?
uh, yes, yes, yes.
you can move a little bit, yes.
sorry, i didn't mean to be
quite so dogmatic when i came in.
obviously, you can all move a little, within reason.
there are certain involuntary muscular movements
that no amount of self-control can prevent.
and obviously, any assertion of authority on my part--
i've got to take that into account.
right, i mean, one couldn't, for example
stop one's insides from moving.
no, no-- good point, good point.
and the very fact that the plane
is continuously vibrating
means we're all moving to a certain extent.
and we're all moving our lips
aren't we?
yes, yes. yes, yes
absolutely.
no, the gist of my meaning was
that sudden, uh...
exaggerated movements!
exaggerated, violent movements are... are out.
well, that's the great thing
about these modern airliners.
i mean, i can keep this plane flying
with only the smallest movement
and pancho here doesn't have to move at all.
oh, that's marvelous.
ooh, and i don't really need to move either
unless i get an itch or something.
well, that's wonderful.
60% success, eh?
60%, yeah.
oh, dear.
anyway, bearing all that in mind
will you fly this plane to luton, please?
well, this is
a scheduled flight to cuba.
i know, i know.
that's rather why i came in here
with that point about nobody moving.
oh, i see. within reason.
within reason, right.
yes, um, you know...
i want you
to fly this plane to luton!
please.
right, well, i'd better turn
the plane round then.
uh, stand by-- emergency systems.
look, i don't want to cause any trouble.
no, no, we'll manage, we'll manage.
i mean, near luton will do, you know.
harpenden, do you go near harpenden?
it's on the flight path.
okay, well, drop me off there.
i'll get a bus to luton.
it's only 25 minutes.
you can be in luton by lunchtime.
well, that's smashing.
there's no airport at harpenden.
oh, well, look, forget it, forget it.
i'll come to cuba
and get a flight back to luton from there.
well, we could lend you a parachute.
no, no, no, no, no, i wouldn't dream of it.
i wouldn't dream of it--
dirtying a nice, clean parachute.
i know, i know.
there's a bale of hay
outside basingstoke.
we could throw you out.
well, if it's all right.
sure, yeah. yeah!
not any trouble?
no, none at all.
that's marvelous.
thank you very much.
sorry to come barging in.
bye-bye.
thank you.
bye.
thank... you...!
take this bus to cuba.
from these glens and scars
the sound of the coot and the moorhen is seldom absent.
nature sits in stern mastery over these rocks and crags.
the rush of the mountain stream, the bleat of the sheep
and the broad, clear highland skies reflected in tarn and loch
form the breathtaking backdrop
against which ewan mcteagle writes such poems
as "lend us a quid till the end of the week."
but it was with more simple, homespun verses
that mcteagle's unique style first flowered.
"if you could see your way to lending me sixpence
"i could at least buy a newspaper.
that's not much to ask anyone."
one woman who remembers mcteagle as a young friend--
lassie o'shea.
oh... mr. mcteagle wrote me two poems
between the months of january and april, 1969.
could you read us one?
och, i dinna like to, though.
they were kind of personal...
but i will.
"to my own beloved lassie.
"a poem on her 17th birthday.
"lend us a couple of bob till thursday.
"i'm absolutely skint.
"but i'm expecting a postal order
"and i can pay you back as soon as it comes.
love, ewan."
beautiful.
since then, mcteagle has developed and widened
his literary scope.
three years ago he concerned himself with quite small sums
quick bits of ready cash-- sixpences, shillings.
but more recently
he has turned his extraordinary literary perception
to much larger sums-- 15 shillings, funt4.12.6d...
even nine guineas.
but there is still nothing to match the huge sweep
the majestic power of what is surely his greatest work:
"can i have funt50 to mend the shed?"
can i have funt50 to mend the shed?
i'm right on my uppers.
i can pay you back
when this postal order comes from australia.
honestly.
hope the bladder trouble's getting better.
love... ewan.
there seems to be no end to mcteagle's poetic invention.
"my new checkbook hasn't arrived" was followed up
by the brilliantly allegorical
"what's 20 quid to the bloody midland bank?"
and more recently his prizewinning poem
to the arts council: "can you lend me 1,000 quid?"
i think what mcteagle's pottery... poetry is doing
is rejecting all the traditional cliches of modern pottery.
no longer do we have to be content
with keats's "seasons of mists and mellow fruitfulness"
wordsworth's "i wandered lonely as a cloud"
and milton's "can you lend us two bob till tuesday?"
"oh, gie to me a shillin' for some fags
"and i'll pay yer back on thursday
"but if you can wait till saturday
i'm expecting a divvy from the harpenden building society."
oh, sod 'em.
...working my fingers to the bone...
as a highlander, i would like to complain
about some inaccuracies in the preceding film
about the poet ewan mcteagle.
although his name was quite clearly given as mcteagle
he was throughout wearing the cameron tartan.
also i would like to point out that the balpa spokesman
who complained about aeronautical inaccuracies
was himself wearing a captain's hat
whereas he only had lieutenant's stripes
on the sleeves of his jacket.
also, in the inverness pantomime last christmas
the part of puss in boots was played by a native of new guinea
with a plate in her lip...
so that every time
dick whittington gave her a french kiss
he got the back of his throat scraped.
look, would you mind going away?
i'm trying to examine this man.
it's, uh... it's all right.
i... i am a doctor.
actually, i'm a gynecologist, but this is my lunch hour.
i have a nasty feeling i am somebody's lunch hour.
actually, i find violence extremely distasteful...
only it was the only part offered, and i need the work.
pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, baker's man.
good morning, madam, i'm a psychiatrist.
you look like a milkman to me.
good. i am in fact dressed as a milkman.
you spotted that-- well done.
go away.
i'm going to show you three numbers
and i want you to tell me
if you see any similarity between them.
they're all number three.
no. try again.
they're all number three?
no. they're all number three.
right, now, i'm going to say a word
and i want you to say
the first thing that comes into your head.
how many pints do you want?
uh... three?
yogurt? no.
cream? no.
eggs? no.
you're quite clearly suffering
from a repressive libido complex
probably the result of a product
of an unhappy childhood
coupled with acute insecurity in adolescence
which has resulted
in an attenuation of the libido complex.
you are a bloody milkman!
don't you shout at me, madam.
don't come that tone.
now then, i must ask you
to accompany me down to the dairy
and do some aptitude tests.
i've got better things to do than come down to the dairy.
mrs. ratbag, if you don't mind me saying so
you are badly in need
of an expensive course of psychiatric treatment.
now, i'm not going to say
a trip to our dairy will cure you
but it will give hundreds of lower-paid workers
a good laugh.
all right, but how am i going to get home?
i'll run you there and back
on my psychiatrist's float.
all right.
what are all those?
they're case histories.
psychiatrists!
psychiatrists! psychiatrists!
yes, sir?
good morning.
afraid our regular psychiatrist
hasn't come round this morning
and i've got an ego block
which is in turn making my wife over-assertive
and getting us both into a state of depressive neurosis.
i see, sir, who's your regular?
jersey cream psychiatrists.
oh, yes, i know them.
right, well, uh... what's your job, then?
i'm a doctor.
didn't i see you just now under a scotsman?
yes, but i am a doctor.
actually, i'm a gynecologist but that was my lunch hour.
what does this remind you of?
two pints of cream?
right. i should definitely say
you're suffering
from severe personality disorder, sir
sublimating itself in a lactic obsession
which could get worse
depending on how much money you've got.
yes, yes, i see.
and a pot of yogurt, please.
i would like to take this opportunity
of complaining about the way in which these shows
are continually portraying psychiatrists
who make pat diagnoses of patients' problems
without first obtaining their full medical history.
mind you, that's just a pat diagnosis
made without first obtaining your full medical history.
i feel the time has come to complain about people
who make rash complaints
without first making sure that those complaints are justified.
are you referring to me?
not necessarily.
however, i would like to point out
that the balpa spokesman was wearing
the british psychiatric association dinner dance club cuff links.
yes, i noticed that, too.
these are not british psychiatric association dinner dance club cuff links.
sorry.
they are, in fact
british sugar corporation
gilbert and sullivan society cuff links.
it is in fact a sort of in-joke with us lads here at balpa.
i think the last speaker should have checked his facts
before making his own rash complaint.
yeah, that'll teach him.
however, i would just like to add a complaint
about shows which have too many complaints in them
as they get very tedious for the average viewer.
i'd like to complain
about people who hold things up
by complaining about people complaining.
it's about time something was done about it.
nurse! would you take mrs. pim
to see dr. cream, please?
certainly, doctor.
walk this way, please.
oh, if i could walk that way, i...
mrs. pim to see you, dr. cream.
i just want another five minutes with audrey.
could you show mrs. pim
into the waiting room, please?
yes, doctor.
right, audrey, when did you first start thinking
you were a cow?
"jeez, mr. belpit
your legs is all swollen."
"oi! mr. belpit...
your great legs is all swollen!"
"ah! mr. belpit
your legs are all swollen!"
good evening.
tonight on it's the mind
we examine the phenomenon of deja vu--
that strange feeling we sometimes get
that we've lived through something before
that what is happening now has already happened.
tonight on it's the mind
we examine the phenomenon of deja vu
that strange feeling we sometimes get
that we've lived...
anyway, tonight on it's the mind
we examine the phenomenon of deja vu
that strange...
good evening.
tonight on it's the mind
we examine the phenomenon of deja vu
that strange feeling we sometim...
...mes get...
that...
we've lived through something...
good... good evening.
tonight on it's the mind
we examine the phenomenon of d-d-d-d-d-deja v-v-v-vu
that extraordinary feeling...
quite extraordinary...
no, fine, thanks, fine.
oh, thank you.
that strange feeling we sometimes get
that we've lived through something before.
no, fine, thank you. fine.
thank you.
that strange feeling...
no. fine, thank you. fine.
thank you.
look, something's happening to me.
i... um... i think i'd better go and see someone.
goodnight.
wait! hey!
oi, haven't i seen you somewhere before?
no, doctor, no.
something very funny's happening to me.
hey!
oi, haven't i seen you somewhere before?
no, doctor, no.
something very funny's happening to me.
"oh, mr. belpit, your legs are so swollen."
ah, come in.
now, what seems to be the matter?
i have this terrible feeling of deja vu.
ah, come in.
now, what seems to be the matter?
i have this terrible feeling of deja vu.
[captioning sponsored by the u.s. department of education
and a&e television networks
captioned by the caption center wgbh educational foundation]
ah, come in.
now, what seems to be the matter?
i have this terrible feeling of deja vu.