Original subtitles

I'm H -A -P -P -Y.

I'm H -A -P -P -Y.

I know I am, I'm sure I am.

I'm H -A -P -P -Y.

I know I am, I'm sure I am. He's H -A -P -P -Y.

The ingratitude of employers.

15 years on a car assembly line, 15 years of unremitting toil and sacked in

minute's notice.

The employers of this country have got a lot to answer for.

And what did he do?

Hit the foreman.

What do you expect? You can't go around hitting the foreman. Who said he went

around hitting the foreman? That's a typical Tory bias, that is. He did it

in 15 years.

Well, that's no excuse.

Supposing they all did it once every 15 years, he'd be getting punched more

times on the clock.

Not that they punch the clock anymore. That's the trouble nowadays.

Not enough discipline.

Well, in this case, they're extenuating circumstances.

What extenuating circumstances?

The foreman didn't make his request in a reasonable or diplomatic manner. He

used a four -letter word.

What was it? Work?

No, it wasn't.

I was referring to bad language.

Don't be ridiculous.

He must have heard bad language before. Well, maybe he was the sensitive type.

Sensitive? Oh!

I see. I suppose because he's working class, he hasn't got any right to be

sensitive. As a matter of fact, it says here he was deeply hurt.

So was the foreman.

Well, it was the foreman's fault.

He should have let him sleep it off.

Do you mean to say he was drunk? Of course he wasn't drunk.

He'd had a few, but he wasn't drunk.

He said he was drunk in the Daily Mail. Oh, did he? Well, according to the Daily

Mail, he was overtired. Why don't you get the Morning Star? You'll probably

he came from his sickbed.

He was not drunk.

If he wasn't drunk, why did he fall asleep?

Because he was worn out from running up and down ladders.

I thought you said he worked on the assembly line. Oh, that's at night. In

day, he's a window cleaner.

What was he doing two jobs for? Because my innocent friend, he had a wife and

family to support, and the economy of this country is based on two pay

Only because they want their holidays in Benidorm.

I see. I suppose the working classes aren't entitled to holidays abroad.

I suppose if you had your way, all they'd get is a fortnight's op picking.

Look, if they want holidays abroad and colour television, they'll just have to

work harder.

Instead of going on strike all the time. Listen, everyone is entitled to strike.

That's the only weapon you've got. The withdrawal of labour is your fundamental

right, otherwise you get exploitation.

Well, look at Clegg there.

Look at the human misery on that face.

How do you think he got that?

Probably asked him to lift something.

That's bureaucratic exploitation.

Hey, Clegg, come here and show him your pay package.

I don't want a sense of pay packet. That's all right, mate. Come on, Clegg,

him your pay packet. I don't want to. There's no need to be ashamed, brother.

We're the ones who should be ashamed. Go on, go on. Show him your pay packet.

What about that, then? That's not his total deductions you're looking at, you

know. That's his wage.

That's not much. Not much? It's a pittance. He can't live on that wage.

could always get another job.

He doesn't want another job. It's vocational, isn't it, Clegg?

That's right.

Well, I'm sorry.

It's no good being sorry.

Craig, have you got a television?

No. We had to watch the cup final through the co -op window.

Hear that, eh?

And where are you going for your holidays this year? I can't afford to

holiday.

We'll be out in the garden again.

taking turns on the sun lounger. There you are, eh? Talk about being

underprivileged. A family with only one sun lounger, and he got that with

cornflake packets.

Look, I know it seems unjust, but there's only so much to go round.

Let me see if I can explain it to you.

Clegg.

Now,

the most national product is like a large cake.

Now, we all get a slice, but some people get larger slices than others.

Now, you want a larger slice.

That means that somebody else is going to get left. Then he'll want a larger

slice. Why can't we all have an equal slice?

Oh, don't be ridiculous, Norman.

But why can't we? Because he's doing the cutting. Because we're not all equal,

that's why.

No, you're talking to Mr Big Slice. Not only does he get the largest share, he

knows where all the cherries are.

Come on, Clegg, we cannot stand around here chewing the fat all day. We are

for lunch.

Hurry, hurry, come on. No, no, no, wait a minute, wait a minute. There's no need

to talk to him like that. He's not one of your untouchables, you know.

No, no.

That's right.

What is this, Constance? What are you talking about? I know you believe in the

caste system, but this man has got his rights.

That's right.

I don't have to take orders from you.

I take orders from the cleaning supervisor.

Right. All I'm saying is we're late for lunch and we're wasting time. Now, come

on, Clegg.

Yeah, well, you just watch what you're saying to me.

I know you're tight.

You've only been in the country five minutes and you're driving your own

You can't stop doing it, can you? What?

Agitating, stirring things up.

You're a proper little Lenin. Just because I remind people of their rights?

Times have changed, you know, Glover. There's been a social revolution since

played with a gardener's boy.

I hope you're listening to all this, Norman. You might learn something.

I think I'm getting through to you, aren't I? You've got that worried frown

again. Is it the inequality of the class system? Is it the unacceptable face of

capitalism? Is that what's distressing you?

No. What is it, then, son?

Boiled fish and semolina.

What? We've got it again today.

Is that all you can think about? You've got a chance to discuss all the major

political issues of the day and all you can think about is boiled fish and

semolina? I don't like boiled fish and semolina. Well, tell him you don't want

it. I'll do that. No, no, I'm the one who has to do all the complaining round

here. If we've left the patients like you, there'll never be any improvements.

They'd still be sore enough legs without an anaesthetic.

Well, it's about time somebody complained.

That boiled fish is diabolical. Well, he won't complain. He hasn't got the

nerve. Why do you think they keep taking all them X -rays?

They're still looking for his vertebrae.

I'm not afraid to complain.

All right, then. Go on. Go on.

Complain.

Oh, golly, what have we over here?

It is the excellent boiled fish, you lucky fellow.

I wish I was stuck into that right now.

Can't I have a choice?

Of course. Of course you can have a choice.

You can start at that end, or you can start at this end.

Where do you think you are, in a five -star hotel?

This is a hospital.

It's not run for the benefit of the patients. I don't care. I don't like it,

I'm not eating it.

What's the matter, Gupta? You will not eat its food, Mr. Thorpe.

Come along, Norman. Don't pout.

Oh, it smells delicious.

May I?

Just as I thought.

Delightful. As fine a piece of boiled fish as you'll find anywhere. Well, you

can eat it, then.

Listen, we all have to eat this stuff, you know. Why should you be an

You're lucky it's not the steak and kidney pie. You need a pneumatic drill

that.

Now, get on with it. I can't eat it.

Well, do what we do.

Smother it in tomato sauce.

I shan't.

I want to make an official complaint.

If you think I'm going to complain to Lucretia Borgia down there, you're

mistaken.

That woman's got the warm, kindly smile of a prison wardress.

Instead, she does her own slaughtering.

Now, come on, get off. Oh, wait a minute. You can't make him eat that.

Patients have rights, too, you know. Oh, I see. I might have known you'd be

behind it. I'm just showing solidarity, that's all. We are not going to eat this

rubbish. I'm afraid he's right, Mr Thorpe. As you know, I'm not one to

But the cooking does lack a certain variety.

Perhaps you could try something else. What do you suggest?

Um, trout mania, coq au vin, beurk bourguignon. A little wine does wonders

the jaded palate.

I'm not suggesting she cooks in wine. She's barely mastered gravy.

Now, come along. Stop all this nonsense and eat up. Come on, Norman.

No. Just a jade. I don't want it. Just for me?

No.

I think I take your point, Norman.

Then it's either me or the radiator.

I think it's me.

It's probably a warning.

I can't go without food for very long.

I convert everything into energy.

I didn't know that.

Oh, yes.

Oh, yes, I burn everything up.

Look at my palms. They're sweating.

I could go into a coma at any moment.

I know how you feel.

I don't know why I let Figgis talk me into this.

You won't laugh, but I could even fancy that boiled fish.

Who's laughing? I'd settle for a boiled sweet.

I've got a bit of chocolate.

Where is it?

In the pocket of my dressing gown. It's been there for days.

It's got fluff on it. Leave it on. It'll be more filling.

What about Figgis? He can find his own chocolate.

He's told everybody we're on hunger strike.

Just because we're on hunger strike doesn't mean we've got to starve.

Come on, they'll never know.

Oh, rich, velvet, delicious chocolate.

We've got them worried.

They're holding meetings all over the place.

A real light and a torch which could ignite the whole health service.

Is something the matter?

I've been talking to them in the general ward. Ask them to pledge support.

What do they say?

They're going to take a vote on it. When? After they've had their supper.

they've had their supper? What about us? For just a minute. You've got something

in your mouth.

Yes, you have.

You're eating chocolate.

Both of you.

Well, they'll never know, Figgis. That's not the point. We'll know. You can't...

cheat on a thing like this. It's a question of principles.

I'm getting sick of your principles.

Oh, getting through to you is a glover, eh?

Getting you where you hurt, eh? I'm not surprised. You're too soft, too

pampered. I suppose you'll be having IT by this time, eh?

Muffins served on a silver salver.

Deviled kidneys and sweetbread. Shut up, Piggis. Well, stop moaning.

You can go without food for 40 days.

We're not going to go without food for 40 days, are we? No, of course not.

All we want is an undertaking that the food is going to improve.

And they'll give in.

They're too frightened of the publicity.

Supposing they don't give in, then we'll just have to tighten our pyjama cords,

won't we?

Norman, I was just passing the corner shop. I wonder if this might tempt your

appetite. It's fresh cream with raspberry jam, I believe.

I thought you might like it for your teeth. He doesn't want that, Doctor.

I? He'll treat that with contempt.

We'll see.

He's trying to bribe us, is he? Well, we'll show him.

We'll just leave it there.

Yes.

Did he say fresh cream?

Yes, laced with raspberry jam and very, very light meringue.

hung some bacon rind out for the birds.

Wish I was a blue tit.

I wish we'd had breakfast.

By the time we start eating, I won't have the strength to swallow.

I can't stop thinking about food.

I dreamt last night I was eating a giant marshmallow.

When I woke up, I couldn't find the pillow.

Where was it?

At the bottom of the bed with teeth marks in it.

I dreamt about food last night.

I was in this little country pub that I know.

I ordered grilled Adriatic prawns with top salad, followed by port provencal

a bottle of Puy L 'Oche 66.

And then I was going to have the chocolate gâteau delicately laced with

and finish off with coffee and Napoleon brandy. What happened?

I found someone had cemented my teeth together.

Probably Figgis.

Hello, what's the matter with you two? We can't go on, Figgis. We've got to

But we must go on.

I can't. I'm hallucinating. I keep smelling bacon and eggs all the time.

I'm sorry to let you down, Figgis, but we've decided. I'm sorry, Figgis. I can

hardly believe it. Black legs. Where's your backbone?

Where is it? I'm surprised you can't see it.

We've got to eat, Figgis. All right, if that's the way you feel. I just didn't

realise I was sharing a room with a couple of scabs, that's all. We're not

scabs. It's a democratic decision. Two against one.

I see. Well, never let it be said that Roy Figgis didn't go along with the

wishes of the majority.

I can't say I'm not disappointed.

I'm bitterly disappointed.

But, if that's the way you want it, at least I've done my best.

At least we've made a protest. All right, we'll eat.

Oh, thank heavens for that. All right, Gupta, we're ready to eat now. You can

bring on the food. Sorry, no food today.

Everybody's on strike.

It's inhuman.

There are sick people in here.

My God!

They've turned back the bread van.

What about the patients? We've got our rights, too, you know.

Oh, dear, oh, dear.

What a disaster.

How very unfortunate.

I don't know how to say this, but I'm afraid it is goodbye, my friend.

What? All the non -serious cases must leave this hospital.

Isn't that terrible?

What is it they say?

Partying is such sweet... sorrow.

Get dressed, please.

What are you talking about?

I'm a serious case.

You can't send me back to an empty flat. They'll break down the door next

Christmas and find a skeleton in a dressing gown.

He's right. You can't do this to a sculptor. We're sick men.

Happily for me, that will not be my decision.

That responsibility lies with somebody else. Oh, God, for that, who is it?

Clegg.

Clegg? He's the leader of the strike.

He will decide.

Oh, no, he won't. He's not holding a union meeting over my lap or up to me.

Clegg tried to stop me driving into the hospital.

My God, we certainly nursed a viper in our bosom there.

Apparently he's been going slow for some time and no one noticed.

Say he takes his orders direct from Moscow.

Probably draws half his pay in rubles.

Do you know he's the nurse to give me the clenched fist salute?

At least I think it was a clenched fist salute.

And I was to discharge the patients.

Where was tea about that? Fetch me the case notes, Gupta.

I'm afraid I cannot do that. Why?

I am on strike.

Et tu, Brute?

Pardon?

It doesn't matter.

Don't you see, this is our chance to get rid of them. No more trouble, no more

complaints. Gupta, you're talking to a doctor.

Do you think I've used my skills on these men to have them discharged by

illiterate buffoon?

Mr. Thorpe?

Oh, hello, Clegg. I didn't see you there.

I want a word with you.

You crossed the picket line.

Of course I crossed the picket line. I want to get in. We were engaged in

peaceful picketing.

All we wanted was to put our kindness to you in a reasonable manner, instead of

which you drove straight over my foot.

It's not my fault you shouldn't have such big feet.

Don't worry. I'm proud of this foot. I consider myself another victim of the

class struggle. Class struggle.

It's just a time for paying off old scores.

You've never forgiven me for stopping you wheeling your bike through the

operating theatre. I'm not here to bandy words with you, Mr Thorpe. I'm here to

tell you that my members will only deal with serious cases, and these are not

serious cases. Of course we're serious cases. Listen, comrade, I'm with you,

know that. We all are, we're right behind you. But you can't send me home,

in my condition.

My wife can't stand illness. I'm sure you can make an exception.

No exceptions, brother.

The end justifies the means. The revolution will only succeed over the

the workers. Who said that? You did.

I wasn't talking about my body, you raving idiot.

Who are you calling a raving idiot?

What about the dignity of labour? You can't do this to me. We've done it.

Up the workers.

Look at him. He's all ready to storm the Winter Palace.

He used to be such a nice little fellow.

And his wonderful way of potting begonias.

Now look at him.

I blame you for this, Figgis.

I discharge you, only I don't want to bow to the mob.

I think we should get rid of them.

Gupta, I don't think you'll ever be really happy till this hospital's

empty.

But I'll defend their right to be here till the last breath in my body and the

last drop of my blood. I don't care if I have to empty bedpans and roll

bandages. These boys are my sacred trust.

Doctor, do you think you could get us some food?

Get you some food? food? Certainly not.

I'm a doctor, not a waiter.

I was thinking about your stomach.

I can't go on much longer. I keep thinking I hear the food trolley. Why

you go and watch a television? It'll take your mind off it. I've tried that.

Well, I get a food commercials.

It's either two Arabs wrestling over some Turkish delight or someone shinning

a rope with a box of milk tray.

I can't stand it.

I wish somebody would shin up here with a box of milk tray.

I've been thinking, I wonder what carnations are like. Well, if I could

of some salt, I'd tell you.

Are you a lot sillier?

I'd get out if I were you. The heat's going off next.

Oh, I've got to hand it to you, Clegg. You think of everything.

Yes, you've certainly done a good job on that leg, too. You must be in

considerable pain. I can hardly put it to the ground. Well, you want to watch

it, you know. I think we'd better take a look at it. No, I haven't got time. You

can't neglect a thing like that. Come on. Come on now, let's get this shoe

Here we go.

Now, come on.

Come on.

My God!

What's the matter? I've never seen anything like it. You'll never get that

on again.

I think it's turning blue. I think you're right. I think it's only a

Only a sprain? Do me a favour. Are you trying to frighten me? No, if you prefer

to think it's a sprain. If you want to lead a strike with Berger's disease,

that's all right with me.

Berger's disease? Well, that's what it looks like to me. What do you think?

Well, he's certainly showing all the symptoms. What is Berger's disease?

Well, to put it simply, it's when all the veins and arteries in the foot...

Close up? Oh, don't worry. The pain won't last long. It'll go dead.

Unless the clock begins to move. The clock? Then your leg will be all right.

you'll be dead. What am I going to do?

You've got to keep your weight off that foot. Come on, Norman. Yeah, give me a

hand. Come on. Get him out of his bed.

There you go.

Hadn't you better get a doctor? A doctor? Do me a favour. There's a strike

You've closed the hospital, remember?

Now, we'll do the best we can for you, but you must excuse us if our methods

seem a little primitive. What are you going to do? Bleed you. What?

A couple of leeches. No, they don't use their leeches anymore. We'll have to cut

him and then drain his blood into this bowl.

I'll bleed to death. Now you won't. We'll stick some cobwebs on it. That'll

the bleeding. I'll get blood poisoning.

That's a point.

I know what we could do. Hang an onion over the bed. They say that's very

effective against blood poisoning. Oh, no, you're not here.

It's Clegg's leg, Doctor. I think there's complications.

Would you like to take a look at it?

Oh, no, I don't think I could do that, figures.

Don't want to be accused of strike -breaking.

It's serious, Doctor. They say I've got Berger's disease.

Berger's disease?

Well, it was just a wild guess, Doctor.

Oh, well, it is a possibility, I suppose.

May I have a look?

Oh, dear.

Those radials do make a mess, don't they? Well, what?

What?

What are you going to do about it?

Not much I can do about it. I'd like to x -ray this, but the x -ray department's

clear that the strike can't click.

Well, I didn't say it was going to go on forever, did I?

Now we've made our protest, shown our political muscle, we are prepared to

return to the negotiating table and seek a last new settlement.

You mean you're going to pack it in? That's right.

No hard feelings, Doctor?

No, of course not.

Now... Let's see if we can manipulate this foot.

Please, Mr. Thorpe, this is no way to negotiate.

Now let's get around the table.

It's coming.

It's coming. Yes, and you can depend on one thing. There'll be some improvements

from now on, eh? Now eat in here. You'll see.

It's the poor that gives to the poor.

Oh, there'll be some lovely, delicious little things coming through here now.

Watch the supper, Goofy.

You're in luck, gentlemen.

Boiled fish and semolina.

What a mouth -watering repast. Not again.

After all we've been through, we're not standing for this, are we? Shut up,

Figgis. You don't know what it is. I'm starving.

Not like you, a palatable heir.

But it's rubbish.

Well, let's eat it first and then complain.

I want a word with you lot.

I understand somebody's been complaining about me cooking.

Turning up their nose over me boiled fish. Fish.

Well, who is it?

Have you been making derogatory remarks about me, Mullet?

Me? Good heavens, no.

I think it's a triumph.

I think that the way you hide the natural taste of the fish under this

white sauce is, um... Well, only you could have done it.

I didn't think it was you. You're too much of a gentleman.

Was it you?

No. I like it. It's one of my favourites. I can't get enough of it.

delicious. Well, I'll see who gets it regular, then.

I can always find a little bit extra for those who appreciate it, so there are

no complaints.

Yes.

I don't like boiled fish.

I'm not interested in what you like.

brought us out, you said we'd have to be prepared to suffer pain and hardship.

But as soon as your leg starts to ache, you bring us back in again, don't you?

Stan!

Right. So there are no complaints.

Why don't you ask Figgins? I'm sure he's got something to say.

I don't have to ask him.

I know he likes my cooking.

The way he came down and scoffed that Cornish pasty last night.

You did enjoy it, didn't you, Joe?

Black legs, Dad!

I know I am. I'm sure I am.

Only when I lie.

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