All language subtitles for the_comic_strip_01_the_comic_strip_-_julien_temple_1981

Here, you.

Do you want to see a comedy show?

Seven beautiful comedians. Very witty.

Guaranteed laugh all your money back.
Comedy show.

This way.

For you. Do you want to see a comedy
show?

Here,

look. I'll tell you a joke.

Wood, green and ants up a tree. Leave.

That's our kind of beer.

Go for that.

Do you want to see a comedy show? Comedy
show.

Okay. Do you want to see a film?

Lovely joke.

So here we are in Berthold Brecht's
Zohar.

With the old buildings and the London
fog. And we can almost hear Polly

singing. And we can hear him singing.

You are about to witness the 10p opera.
A tale of two

sisters.

Our story starts at pub closing time.
Deep in the heart of Zobel.

Quiet now, for Jenny approaches the
Salvation Army mission, her sister's

known address.

But in this Doss's paradise, danger
lurks in every shadow. Jenny is soon

surrounded. Easy prey for the careless
hands of the down -and -outs.

So, saved as it were by the bell,
Jennifer again ventures forward, her

borne up by the missionary's merciful
zeal.

I'm looking towards the door.

Oh, it's a lost touch.

And I was wondering if she was here.

Your sister's a fat slut.

Kicked her out of here a week ago.

She's probably in a brothel by now.

Strung by the harsh words of the maiden,
Jennifer runs off like a wounded animal

into the fog and enters the grimy
labyrinth of Zoho, the Joy Town.

Meanwhile, at the middle of the maze, we
find her sister, Dawn, already waist

-deep in the quicksands of sin, arriving
for work at a dirty little cabaret

known to time -out readers as the Comic
Strip.

Spurred on by sisterly love, Jennifer
moves deeper into the jungle of the big

city, her heart beating in her mouth.

Have a nice day.

Past axemen and junkies.

Past horse and woman flesh.

Through dismal courts and alleys,
peopled with sharks and harpies and

all getting rich.

in hell.

So Jenny steps over the corpse, leaving
those nightmarish visions behind.

She spies the friendly shape of a London
bobby looming out of the night.

Lost and alone, she reaches out to him.

knowing she can rely on his help.

Oh, well, another illusion shattered.

But in riot -torn Britain, can you
really blame a young Bobby on the beat

losing his marbles?

Sorry, love, you'll have to get a date
to set, you know what I mean?

I'm just the guide for Brecht tours of
London, you see that? It's great there,

isn't it? It's all these people making
money out of looking like Marilyn Monroe

and Humphrey Bogart. I look like a
fucking East Yemen playwright. I mean,

are you supposed to do with that, eh?
You're not going to pay me to start a

fucking campariad, Bert, are you?

Bert or Brecht meet the smog monsters,
it's not on, is it? You silly bit. And

over here we see the Two Eyes castle,
where Larry Ponds first picked up Billy

Fury and Marty Wilde and Vince Egan.

before naming them in bed.

At last, Jennifer's courage is rewarded

as she stumbles across the awful crew
that leads her to her sister dog.

That's my sister's dog.

Yeah, she lent it to us.

Come on, we're going out of our cameras
now, okay?

Come on, anybody else?

Meanwhile,

backstage, the sleazy, greedy club
owners Raymond and Paul are counting

ill -gotten gains.

Honey.

Monkey. Giraffe.

What is it? There's no toilet paper.

How come there's no toilet paper in
here?

Okay, okay.

I'm ready to go.

Is everybody in?

Monkey's away?

Okay, go.

Thank you. Thank you very much. Good
evening. Welcome to the comic strip.

Now, as you probably know, the comic
strip is a whole new concept in

entertainment. And my name's Lexie
Sauer, and I'm actually an alternative

comedian. I'm not funny.

The thing is, I'm non -racist, I'm non
-sexist, so don't laugh at me, you

fucking fascist shitbag! Okay,

Martin Borman, stag party, okay.

I'm Jewish, say it loud, I'm Jewish and
proud.

If that's alright by you, I mean, I
don't want to get into heavy trips or

anything, but, um...

See, the only good thing about being
Jewish, right, apart from the free

that is, or if you're a Zionist, the
ability to nick somebody's country

you were there 2 ,000 years ago.

Oh, yes, political satire, yes.

This is what we've come from Islington
for, yes.

The only other good thing about being
Jewish is if you want a day off work,

right, you just go up to the boss and
you say, I can't come in tomorrow, you

know, it's Flanagan.

Or it's Rostra Schachter tomorrow, you
know.

I've got to sit in the backyard with a
pork pie on me.

Anyway, I've been filmed for Albanian
television, so I'm going to do some of

readings from the poetry of Enver Hoxha,
the president of Albania, in Albanian,

with subtitles in Semaphore for the
harder thinking, right?

Ah,

fuck it.

There's obviously no Albanians in
tonight.

Good! This fucking Albanian goes to the
job on the building site, right?

Cabaret?

I'll tell you the secret of cabaret. Get
the money in. Yeah, yeah, but to get

the poppy in, you have got to be funny.
Yeah, then you're laughing.

Because if you're not funny, then you're
not getting the money in. And nobody's

laughing.

Yeah, it's a funny business comedy.

Very serious business comedy.

Um, I,

uh, actually, I was up in Liverpool a
couple of weeks ago, you know, and I was

actually up there in Liverpool 8, you
know, entertaining the troops.

They call me the rioter's sweetheart.

I've been here three whole weeks now.

When am I going to get my break?

When am I going to get famous?

When are you going to give me a job?

Why? Why?

Darling, darling, you have no talent.

Acting it cool.

I can do it. I can. Look. Look at this.
Look.

Yes. Yes.

Go down on me now. Yes.

The news was standing in front of the
mirror when you was a kid. It did,

didn't it? Standing in just your junior
wife's front, looking at yourself,

weren't you?

Going, ooh, you're not nice in them
dirty girls. You are...

And you'd get some of your mum's
lipstick, wouldn't you? You'd put it

mouth and there were lines all over your
body, wouldn't you? Yeah, yeah.

You'd remember, you'd smile and I can
see that you did, yeah.

Yeah, you'd put lines there, you'd get
your underpants, you'd put them all

underneath your armpits like that. You'd
get your dad's crash helmet and you'd

jam it on your head really tight, yeah.
It's coming back to you now, isn't it?

Yeah, yeah. That's right. Big pair of
industrial gauntlets, pull them on

tight. Big pair of fishing wellies,
you'd get a tin of oxtail soup, you'd

the oxtail soup in your wellies. You'd
jump on them down, you'd bang your head.

Anyway big enthusiastic build -up for
the first act but ladies and gentlemen

Arnold Brown

And I wish they'd leave me alone.

I come from Glasgow.

Why not?

You know Glasgow at the moment under the
Tories, the deprivation, the two -year

waiting list for people who want to
vandalise telephone kiosks.

Last Christmas I went back to see my
home place.

The plaque still hangs bravely in the
wind.

1936 to 1956, Arnold Brown was socially
deprived here.

We had the other difficulty in Glasgow
of my father being a... And the

shame on Saturday nights of him being
constantly thrown into pubs.

Excuse me, Arnold.

Who are these people, I asked my mother
and father.

These people, Arnold, are the middle
class.

How would you join?

Easy by the observer.

So I brought the observer, struggled
with the adverts, took my supplements

a good little boy.

And here I am, happily, almost proudly,
living in Hampstead, London, NW3.

care about people.

Above all, we care about ourselves.

But it's not all hedonism and hamster
titties.

Last night, we were all out
demonstrating the Men Against Sexism

the Punch and Judy show in the community
center.

So much work to be done.

And tomorrow night, we're all out on
picket duty, the silent vigil outside

white sugar factory in Croydon.

got to do it.

Yes, I'm going to do it.

You're not going to stop me.

I'm never going to stop you.

Good night.

Archie, how are you? How are you,
Archie? We were just talking about you.

are one of our favourite comedians. When
do I get paid?

It's right you should ask that, Archie.
When do I get paid?

Anyway, I'm...

I'm going to introduce the next act now.

And this next act has been flown in at
absolutely no expense and absolutely no

worth. What do you think of that?

A pound?

Anyway, ladies and gentlemen, a big warm
comic strip welcome.

Yeah, it sounds like a big warm comic
strip welcome.

But ladies and gentlemen, The Outer
Limits.

Thanks a lot. You're top. Good

evening,

we are The Outer Limits.

So, relax.

I'm Kenneth, a photographer.

I take pictures of little girls.

Sometimes these pictures get in the
magazine.

Page three.

My friends call me Lady Di, because I
like working with children.

Where are we at?

We're not after him.

I'll tell you what's going to be very
big money soon.

Fiber optics.

Then bendy tubes that doctors look down.

The inside pictures.

Cheeky shots of the ovaries.

Full frontal shots of the fallopian
tubes.

Unborn children discovering for the
first time the full sensuality of their

partially formed bodies.

Fibro -optics.

Stop shouting! I'm not shouting! That's
a personal...

Think twice!

Arden?

Why aren't you flying low tonight? Okay,
here we go now. Little dirty things.

Come up your legs. Get down, you
bastard. They come through the walls and

wires in your head. I don't mind anyway.
What, me paranoid?

Okay,

nice warm feeling. Here, didn't you kill
my brother?

Ladies and gentlemen, a big welcome,
please, for the Dangerous Brothers.

green things right here okay three four
four

good evening ladies and gentlemen we are
the dangerous brothers brothers my name

is Richard Dangerous and this is Adrian
Dangerous they are very much unusually

dangerous I just don't agree we'll have
to open the ceiling with a little joke

at least I'm not to give you a little
contortionism.

Yes.

Yes.

your box, Mr. Swery. Fucking can't you
hang up? Fucking can't you hang up? I

don't know. I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know. I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know. I don't know.

I don't know.

I don't know.

Can you knock it on the head? I don't
have to remember any of this now because

it's all written on the inside of me
head.

Right.

Next piece. The next piece is a Cockney
Mod performance art dance piece.

It's titled a phrase often heard in Alan
Mint accounts.

It's called Hello John Got A New Motor.

Mark Freak, Colt Tina, White Wall Tires,
Doggy On The Back Shelf, Names On The

Windscreen, Sven and Kierkegaard.

And you can join in with the words,
right, if you're telepathic, that is.

There's a quick joke for all you telly
peps.

A bit fucking risque, like, you know,
basically politically sound, right?

Hang on, that's coming off, must get a
smaller head, right.

Cockney mob performance art dance piece,
you fucking cunt.

A one, two, a one, two, three, four.
Hello, John, got a new motor?

Hello, John, got a new motor?

You're going to mess with the carpet.

He helps me to mess in the carpet. He
lost his bottle in Barnsley. He lost his

bottle in Barnsley. He's an evil
representative.

He's an evil representative.

There has to be a moral somewhere, but
fuck knows where it is.

Still, time has passed, and we know
these people a little better.

And where are your troubles now?

They're outside.

Where is your de chevaux, turned over
and burnt, or the Snoopy stickers

into the ground?

Oh, yes.

Oh, yes. Oh, yes. Ladies and gentlemen,
I would now like... to introduce you to

a band I met at Nevworth.

A big welcome, please, for Alexei's
Midnight Runners.

Hello, Nevworth.

Okay. Hey. Woo. All right. Woo. Okay.
All right. Woo. Okay. All right. Hey.

All right. Okay. Okay.

Now, there's been a lot of racial
trouble in the world these days, you

Blacks and whites, Russians and Afghans.

Don't know why they pick on them. I
think they're fucking nice dogs.

There's only one device that can solve
all this racial conflict.

What is it? Is it a big melting pot?

No!

Is it a model railway set?

No!

Is it a pop -up toaster?

Outro Music

problems by singing along with a
simplistic fucking lyric contained in

Oh no, you've got to do the dance as
well.

So I want everybody to do the pop -up
toaster. Now one, you've got to give

yourself a slice of bread, you're going
to be home meal, I don't mind.

Two, you've got to put your hand on your
head, that's around the top of your

neck where all the shit comes out.