Original subtitles

If a bucket of paint falls on a

man's head, that's funny.

If the bucket fractures his skull at the

same time and kills him, that's not funny,

it's tragic.

And yet, if a man falls into a

sausage machine and is sold in the shops

at so much a pound, that's funny.

It is also tragic.

So why is it funny?

I don't know.

But what I do know is that somewhere

within this very difficult area lies the secret

of all black comedy.

The play you're going to see now is

one of those blackish comedies, and thanks to

the presence of two famous stars, it's come

out a good deal funnier than I was

ever able to make it on paper.

Lady Turton, who ran her husband's newspaper, Empire,

as aggressively as she ran his house in

Norfolk, didn't know that Sir Basil had invited

an extra guest for the weekend, John Bannister.

Gently.

It's irreplaceable.

Jack!

M'lady.

What is going on?

Basil!

Out of your mind?

Hello, my dear.

What on earth is this tradesman's van doing

at the front?

It's my latest acquisition.

Quite wonderful, isn't it?

Basil!

What will my guests think?

Really, Basil, you have no style.

No style at all.

This way.

This way.

Here.

Evening, Jokes.

Good evening, sir.

Who else have we got for the weekend?

Hardly anyone, sir.

Yourself and Miss Carmen La Rosa, and a

young friend of Sir Basil's, I believe, sir.

A young chap, blocking the drive.

Very possible, sir.

Good looking, is he?

Resentable?

A bit of young blood?

I've no idea, sir.

You will find Lady Turton in the library.

Thank you.

Send up my bags, will you?

I'll change first.

Isn't she beautiful?

Thank you.

Thank you.

Ah, you made it.

Good.

Well, what do you think?

She's just arrived.

I like it.

She looks better than when we saw her

last in the sale room.

Don't you think?

No comparison.

I realise I paid over the odds, but

we couldn't let her go to Dusseldorf, could

we?

Anyway, I had to have her.

She fills a real gap in my collection.

I like the way he's used the natural

grain of the wood.

Don't tell Lady Turton that.

She hates what she calls art talk.

Can't imagine what he was doing, young idiot.

A young man in a sports car.

Part his pedal car all over the drive.

I blasted him with my horn.

Jokes tells me he's Basil's guest.

I say, does he ride?

Oh, we'll have to see.

If he's Basil's guest, he's bound to be

a drip.

Well, now.

I take that back.

My dear, may I introduce John Bannister?

We happen to meet at Sotheby's.

Basil haunts that place.

Every honest penny I earn, he spends on

art.

How do you do?

How do you do, Lady Turton?

Oh, Natalia, please.

Basil, do get this presentable young man a

drink.

Not me, sir.

Carmen John, Carmen La Rosa.

How do you do?

Are you horsey?

Not really, no.

Oh, then we won't have anything to say

to each other.

What do you do?

I'm an art historian.

Oh, my God, how awful for you.

Jokes, get me another martini.

I've just met an art historian.

Oh, I think you've met Jack, Major Haddock.

In a way, yes.

How do you do?

Evening.

Stupid place to leave a car.

I was admiring the view.

Don't we all?

Basil, for God's sake, take our guest upstairs.

I cannot stand tweeds after six.

I can't wait to see you in a

black tie.

There's an admired view of the garden, sir.

Bathroom in here.

Beware the flush, sir, it's quite powerful.

Oh, thank you.

Dinner at 7.30, sir.

Thank you.

Don't bother with the...

No bother, sir.

That catch is rather tricky.

I seem to have got the better of

it, sir.

Look, there's hardly anything to hang up.

I just threw in a few things.

Quite, sir, just a weekend bag.

Look, really, I'd rather you didn't, sir.

Do you play bridge, sir?

Yes, sir, as a matter of fact, I

do.

Ah, well, then you'll be doubly welcome here,

sir, believe me.

They play a lot of bridge, do they?

Yes, sir, and poker, and gin rummy.

So Basil prefers bridge.

I see you favour the modern approach to

evening dress, sir.

What?

Snap on, snap off.

It's a bit creased.

You laundered it yourself, sir?

It's drip dry.

Quite.

I can't wear man-made fabrics myself.

I find the static electricity generates inconvenient.

One tends to give up blue flashes in

the dark.

That will be all, jokes.

But your pumps, sir?

Pumps?

Your evening footwear, sir.

They may require a polish, possibly.

No, no, they're fine, really.

Very well, sir.

I'll just leave you to it, then.

Thank you.

Thank you, sir.

Yes, of course.

I never accept emoluments, sir.

No tips?

If I might offer a little further advice,

sir.

Yes?

It's simply that her ladyship does somewhat tend

to overbid her hand.

Thank you, jokes.

Oh, one further point, sir.

At dinner...

Yes?

Her ladyship's right foot doesn't always seem to

know what her left foot is doing.

That will be all, jokes.

I sincerely hope so, sir.

So what exactly do you specialise in as

an art historian?

The Renaissance.

Oh.

Basil used to call me his Memling Madonna.

But I always saw myself more like that.

The telephone, m'lady.

Oh, what a bore.

Who is it?

The editor of the Sunday Globe, m'lady.

I am a slave to Basil's inheritance.

Now, his father.

What a magnificent man he was.

Basil, wasn't your father a magnificent man?

Yes, dear.

A very forthright, like you.

Brilliant.

Built an international newspaper empire out of the

coarse fisherman's gazette.

Such animal magnetism.

Even on his deathbed.

But does his son take after him?

Well...

The editor is waiting, m'lady.

He needs to know how many nudes you

require for the front page of the Northern

Edition, m'lady.

Thank you, jokes.

I shall tell him to think big.

Amazing woman, one.

One for the book, eh?

Yes.

Tell me, what do you think of Basil's

art collection?

A load of rubbish.

Quite the reverse.

Ah.

I don't know what you chaps see in

it.

Well, for a start, it must be worth

millions.

Really, eh?

Well, that's put the fear of God into

him.

Basil, haven't you finished eating yet?

He is the slowest eater in the world.

Nibble, nibble, nibble.

Thank you, jokes.

Tell Cook the poached salmon was abominable.

With pleasure, m'lady.

I know how she values your opinion.

Well, what's it to be tonight?

Gin rummy?

Lyre dice?

Stripped poker?

Fringe.

One spade.

Three clubs.

Three hearts.

No bid.

Three no trumps.

No bid.

No bid.

No bid.

Must you always bid three no trumps, Basil?

It makes the game so dull, so unadventurous.

Not if one wins, dear.

What's the idea, man?

I didn't ask for another scotch.

No, sir, but as things are looking, you

may well need one, sir.

Are you still losing?

May I enquire the score, sir?

No, you may not.

In fact, jokes, you can go to bed.

This is our last hand.

Very good, m'lady.

Mr. Bannister and I are 1,200 up,

jokes.

A very great event, sir.

Good night, sir.

No go.

It's all yours.

We overbid, Natalia.

I've told you before.

No, Jack.

No postmortems.

You know I can't stand postmortems.

Basil, since winnings obviously warn you out, I

suggest you go to bed, too.

I'm rather tired, dear.

We'll settle in the morning, all right?

As a house guest, Mr. Bannister, you leave

a lot to be desired.

Do I?

Beating your hostess at bridge.

Jack's furious.

And then locking your door.

Such ingratitude.

Besides, I have a key to every bedroom

in this house.

All 47 of them.

47?

Striped pyjamas.

I'm cold-blooded.

And a bow.

How sweet.

How old-fashioned.

Just think of this as your bread-and

butter letter, darling.

Written in advance.

Jones!

Forgive me, milady.

I thought I heard an intruder.

You are the intruder, Jones.

Could I be of any service to you,

sir?

No.

Go away!

Hearing strange sounds, I took the precaution of

alerting Sir Basil, milady.

As a butler, Jones, you'd make a perfect

baby-minder.

I hope I've been of some service, sir.

I suppose so, yes.

If I might suggest it, a chair braced

firmly under the doorknob is quite the best

deterrent.

Her ladyship has been known to sleepwalk before

dawn.

Good night, Jones.

Good night, sir.

Good night.

When my father died, I was taken rather

by surprise.

Up until then, I'd lived a very quiet

bachelor life.

Then suddenly, at 40, I seemed to have

become enormously eligible.

Young ladies appeared from nowhere.

Oh, I bought that head last March.

A frank?

Yes.

And then Natalia appeared, and naturally swept me

off my feet.

All the others were rather miffed.

She is very striking.

Oh, and a wonderful head, too, isn't she?

Though, I must say, she has rather changed

the tone of our various publications.

But the cash does roll in.

Who's for a gallop?

We're coming!

Jack!

Yes, ma'am.

Did you sleep well last night?

Yes, eventually.

Jones told me he thought he heard an

intruder.

False alarm.

Quite.

Jokes is very low.

You're ruining my speech!

You are imbeciles!

Out of the way!

Oh, dear.

Oh, dear.

Oh, I love this place.

Every inch of it.

What's the dicky bird?

Take one like this.

Oh, that's very good.

Tally-ho!

Shall we go down?

It's very pleasant here.

Oh, yes, brilliant.

Just like those things at the seaside.

How is it?

Oh, it's bloody marvellous.

Idiot.

Got you.

How now, my proud beauty.

Mmm.

Natalia finds everything so amusing.

Jack, I'm stuck.

You can't be.

I am.

Oh, rubbish.

What goes in must come...

Jack!

Do something.

Oh, flatten your ears back.

I am not a horse, damn it!

Oh, dear.

Oh!

What is it?

Natalia's stuck.

We'll get something quickly.

Butter, lard, anything.

I got my fist stuck in a jar

of boiled sweets once.

Couldn't get it out.

Finally, I broke the jar with a hammer

and told my mother it fell off the

shelf by mistake.

I suppose we ought to help, really.

Stop it!

I suppose so, yes.

All right.

A cigarette?

Virginia, this side.

Turkish, that.

I don't, thank you.

I do.

I think of Turkish.

What are you doing?

Better take the jacket off.

All right?

Yes!

Yes!

Come on, girl!

No!

Oh, Jack, I can't!

I'm hurt!

Ow!

Oh.

What a stupid thing.

It's not funny.

No.

Well, we'll just have to wait for Carmen.

Oh, God.

Now look who's here.

Battle, get me out of here!

What's the matter, dear?

Isn't it obvious?

Stuck her head through the blasted hole.

Can't get it out.

How?

Just for a lark, you know.

Quite.

A bit of fun, as it were.

Battle, don't be such a damn fool!

Well, it's pretty obvious we'll just have to

break up this lump of wood.

Surely not.

No petroleum jelly should do the trick.

Ah, you thought of it already.

Allow me.

Good.

You're not going to smother me in that,

Mark.

Basil!

Keep still, dear.

Ow!

No!

Ow!

Oh, Battle!

Oh, it's revolting!

No, it can't hurt, dear.

If anything, rather soon.

That's right on the ears.

Plenty on the ears.

Oh, how dare you!

Oh, this is so humiliating!

Oh, Basil!

Oh, look at you!

You're enjoying this, aren't you?

You beastly little rabbit of a man!

I reckon my old fur would get her,

eh?

You want to come and check on us,

fiancée?

Poor madam.

Try now.

A good, strong pull from the hips.

Ow!

Oh, I must look ghastly!

Ow!

It's no care.

We will straighten her out.

You take the left leg.

You two, come on.

Now, you take the left.

That's right.

Both of you, that's right.

Up.

Now.

Ready.

Steady.

Go!

Ah, put me down!

Ow!

Let me down!

You hit my husband for me!

I'm sure he's doing his best, Lady Turton.

Traitor!

Ow!

No!

Perhaps we should call the fire brigade.

Oh, and have them see me looking like

this!

Ah, jokes.

An unusual occurrence, sir.

Quite.

I presume it is the ears that are

the main obstruction, sir.

Could well be.

They do tend to swell in moments of

excitement.

Jokes.

My lady?

Please, do something constructive.

We are considering ways and means, my lady.

Ah, I said so.

Chop the damn thing up.

Chop up a masterpiece?

No question, man.

All right, Basil.

Come on, get on with it!

Your ladyship is right, sir.

No time like the present, I always say.

The saw or the axe, sir?

Ah!