Original subtitles

Do you know who that is? No, in the chair, Brigitte?

I don't, actually, no. I turned my back and there he was!

Bang! Sprung up like a fungus, that's how I get all my patients.

He is Lord Whitten, champion of organic farmers.

Whereas, to me, he's simply lost filling with a receding gum line

and breath that could kill a horse.

As usual, Mr H, you're missing the point.

Lord Whitten's All-Natural England Gala was featured on page six

of this week's Hello!

And as usual, Brigitte, you are missing the point

that time, whilst generally cruel and mocking, is also money,

and as we have two regular, scheduled patients waiting,

and your job is dental assistant,

assist me, OK?

Right, if you'd like to sit back and relax.

Yes. Kind of your assistant to fit me in at such short notice. Mm-hm.

Very efficient young girl.

Really? Did you give him Novocaine or gas?

We've been in London for a soiree thrown by the missus

and I lost a filling in a devilled egg,

undoubtedly from a battery hen.

They get depressed in cages and lay eggs like rocks.

So, I called around and you came up highly recommended.

Really? Always gratifying to be recognised in one's field.

Yes - just around the corner and cheap. How very flattering!

No, that's important.

Just because I have a title doesn't mean I'm made of money.

Everyone always asking for things, snivelling little vultures!

I know what you mean. I've got three children.

Oh, don't start me on children! I didn't think I started...

Did you? No, let's begin.

You see, my son's with us in London on holiday.

And you'd love me to hurry up so you can get back to him!

No. He's at one of those arty schools.

The wife's a big believer in ARTY.

Even the girls are ARTY.

Hair growing everywhere, legs like grizzly bears.

Shall we carry on? If you'd like to open wide

and try not to let any words escape...

Can I just say, Lord Whitten, that I was deeply, deeply moved

by your pamphlet on the recycling of faecal waste?

Really? Yeah.

Now, you see, this is the sort of girl my son should be meeting.

Solid. Mmm. Natural. Mmm.

Are we still talking faecal waste?

My dear, is 17 too young for you?

Sorry, but I'm celibate this cycle.

Far too much information going on.

No, no, no, you misunderstand. It's purely innocent. Nothing about sex.

Oh, then what's the point?

Anyone else hungry, or shall we call out for sandwiches?

Mr Harper has a daughter. No, I don't. You do! Janey's charming.

You don't LIVE with her. Is she a normal teenage girl?

That's a contradiction in terms.

I mean, does she have a pierced eyelid? No.

Does she have nails in her neck? Not yet.

Has she clipped her personal topiary into the shape of a duck?

Um...

I just hope I never find out.

Splendid, splendid. Do you mind if I ask my son to give her a call? I...

Yes, jolly good. Carry on now.

You did what?! It wasn't my idea, for God's sake. It was Brigitte's.

That's right, deny all responsibility!

I tried that when you were born - didn't work.

You might think this is funny,

but you've completely ruined my life! Ah.

Who was that? He's ruining my life! Ah, your father.

Do you know what he did? Is it multiple choice or essay?

He set me up on a blind date. Ah, that's so... Repulsive?

I was going to say "sweet."

First of all, Dad has no judgment.

He wears socks with sandals and has hair in his ears he never trims.

Actually, it's impressive

that a human can carry such lush vegetation in their ears.

This is Dad. Can you imagine the kind of loser he'd

pick as a date?! Me?

What's that?

This is Mozart's Don Giovanni - one of the greatest operas of all time.

No, that, with the hole in the middle.

I just felt myself age 50 years.

Would you take that thing out of here?

OK.

Did your father say when he was coming home?

Hopefully, never. Don't be rude. Sorry.

Daddy didn't say. He was too busy mucking up my puking life!

Much better.

You might not find this whole thing so "sweet" when I

jump off Tower Bridge and I'm swept out to sea.

Don't be so dramatic.

While the Thames is an estuary,

your body will probably only be swept only as far as Barking,

which lacks some of the romance you'd want.

Isn't there another room you can go to? I'm not bothering you.

You're in my line of sight.

Don't take it out on me just because Dad has to find you dates.

I don't need anyone to find me a date,

especially with a posh git I'm meant to drool over because his dad's

Lord Whitebum or something. You mean Lord Whitten?

"Enjoying a joke with his lovely wife Serena and their family

"at Crufts." What have you got there?

There's a picture of all of them in Hello!

Yeah, right! Yeah.

Oi! My God! That's his son?!

He's absolutely gorgeous!

No, I'll feed the children early.

Mum, he's absolutely gorgeous! Oh, very nice.

Is that Dad? I think Janey has something to say to you.

Dad, get off the phone! I have to call Maxine.

Don't! I was drawing that. I call it Lonely Coat Stand.

Ah!

Now it's USEFUL Coat Stand.

Get the hint. Philistine! Cretin!

Dentist! Layabout!

This is so cool! My art's already controversial.

That's what you are now, an artist?

Yeah. Do you think there's an afterlife, Dad?

God, I hope not.

Because I had this dream last night that Leonardo da Vinci popped in

and said, "Nick, mate, I've two words for you -

"nude models."

THE Leonardo. That is amazing, and those were his very words -

"Nick, mate, nude models"?!

Actually it was - "Caro Nico, due parole - modelli nudi!"

I mean - phugw - he IS Italian.

I mean - phugw - of course.

It's great being an artist - work from home, express your feelings,

and sit around waiting for inspiration.

But you don't make any money. I'm a starving artist. Ah.

You're home late. I know, I know. Bloody NHS.

I spend more time filling in forms than I do filling teeth.

Aw, poor baby.

Hungry? Not really.

Well, the kids have eaten and I've whipped up your favourite meal.

Oh, God, my favourite meal.

Chinese takeaway!

Thank you. Thank you.

Mmm? I'm just saying grace. Oh.

Well, we've a lot to be thankful for. Mm-hm.

Yes, one of the kids has left a spring roll.

Yes, and you've made your daughter very happy. Really? Yes.

She's out with young Whitten now.

Mmm! But let her thank you herself,

and act surprised.

Can I gloat? No. Then what's the point in being right?

Because you're a wonderful father,

and a thoughtful and generous husband.

What's the catch?

Oh, there's no catch. It's more...a surprise.

A surprise. This weekend, the Baldwins have tickets to the opera.

I hate the Baldwins! I don't like going out with them!

They can't go and they've given us the tickets. That's why I hate them.

You haven't been to the opera in 20 years. Perhaps that's a clue.

It's Don Giovanni, your favourite!

My favourite? I've never heard Don Giovanni.

Maybe if you did it would be.

I can't stand the opera. It's always in Italian, or worse - German!

I never know what's going on and it's bloody boring as hell.

And I have a solution. Oh, no.

Opera! Libretto with a complete translation, word by word!

So... No, don't interrupt!

I have thought this through.

If you just sit down and listen to the whole thing

while reading along with the libretto,

when we go, you'll know what's going on. Marvellous!

So I get to be bored TWICE.

Trust me in this? No. What?

Have you ever been disappointed when I've said, "Trust me"?

There's the truffles that turned out to be toadstools,

the short cut through a safari park,

and there's the ever-famous, "My parents won't be home for hours".

You DO bear a grudge. I also bear scars...

It's only three hours of your life. Yes, MY life, and as pathetic

as it might be to some, including me, it is still MY life.

I've watched football with you, golf, been to dental conventions,

and sat through lectures entitled Gingivitis - The Forgotten Plague -

and I have never complained. You do you know why?

So you can throw it in my face at moments like these!

Because love means SACRIFICE!

Fine!

OPERA SINGING

SWITCHES SOPRANO OFF Too big a sacrifice!

Whatever you're doing, stop it.

Now, don't move.

I'm nearly finished. I'm drawing you.

I call it Atlas With World On His Shoulder.

Really?

Actually, it's Nude With Chip On His Shoulder.

What do you mean, "nude"?

What's this?! I couldn't afford a proper nude,

so I had to use my imagination.

Don't! I look like Homer Simpson!

I paint what I see. The next thing you paint will be

my hands approaching your throat. Now go away.

Go away. I haven't got a chip on my shoulder, I'm trying to

keep this family afloat amidst a sea of bureaucratic piranhas.

We're behind you. No, you're trying to drive me mad with art and opera.

We're like a Renaissance family. Yeah, the Borgias.

Your mother wants me to waste three hours of my life

by listening to THAT.

So, why don't you? It can't be worse than doing that.

The way I see it - we all screw up, whatever we do,

so why not screw up on the side of "Hey, why the hell not?"

You know what really frightens me? You're almost making sense.

Great. Can you give me the money to hire a proper nude?

You know, one with instead of one with?

Go away.

Fine.

You can crush the artist, but not the art.

Well, crushing the artist works for me.

OPERA MUSIC PLAYS

MUSIC SOARS

DOOR OPENS

Hi, Janey.

Hey, hold on.

SHE SIGHS

How did it go? It was fine, Dad. Really fine.

No, it was more than fine - it was brilliant, OK?

In fact, it was so brilliant,

I think you should give up dentistry and start your own dating agency.

Now stop grilling me and leave me alone!

MUSIC VOLUME INCREASES

She makes opera sound rational.

Has this gone off? It's two days beyond the sell-by date.

I don't know, dear. Smell it.

But what if it smells bad?

Then I get a bad smell in my nose.

Life is such a vale of tears.

No, don't put it back. We don't want it if it's off!

Then should I throw it out? Not if it's still OK.

You give such mixed signals, Mother!

Thank you. At least SOMEONE cares about me.

You can drink it. Yeah? Cheers, mate!

So, is it off?

A bit chewy.

Morning, Janey. Have fun last night? It was OK.

Just OK? I don't want to talk about it.

Look at them grunting. They're such pigs!

Your brothers, in particular, or the entire male gender?

Both. They all make me ill.

Some of them are quite nice.

I remember all the feelings I had when I was first going out.

The thrill of the chase, what they kissed like,

how I felt when I touched them... Mum!

God! I'm going to be in therapy for the rest of my life!

It's just sex, boys. Ugh! Agh!

Works every time.

Come on, it's just us girls, so tell.

Nothing to tell. All right. I was just curious.

I'm here, you're here - no pressure.

Whenever you want to talk.

Oh, for God's sake!

I only had a daughter to have these intimate moments. Give me something!

OK, what do you want to hear? Dinner was nice, the movie was OK,

and he was a great kisser until he wouldn't stop. Stop kissing?

What do you think?

Oh, my God!

It's not, "Oh, my God!" It could have been, but wasn't.

What did you do?

He didn't understand the word "no", so I used sign language.

Heel palm to the jaw - we learnt it in PE.

Good Lord! All we learned in PE was how to climb a rope.

What? In case the Vikings attacked?

I will overlook that, given the special circumstances.

Look, Mum, I dealt with it. End of story.

No! Not end of story. He assaulted you. And I assaulted him back.

Anyway, it was partly my fault, I shouldn't have got into the car.

Oh, really? Listen, Janey,

when you got that loathsome tattoo, which I still hate,

and which will be the subject of a different conversation...

No, it won't. I love my tattoo. OK, but supposing you didn't.

Suppose you went in, even chose the design,

but then changed your mind. What then?

Would he have any right to go ahead anyway,

just because he'd already whipped out his little needle?

Janey, it was in no way your fault.

However you want to deal with it, I'm on your side.

Thanks, Mum.

How about a hug? I don't need a hug.

I do.

And that dreadful tattoo still has to go.

Ben.

Ben.

Ben! Huh?

Are you sleeping?

Mm-hm. Are you planning on sleeping long?

Mm-hm.

How much longer are you planning on sleeping?

What do you want to tell me, Susan?

It's nothing. You're clearly in a state.

Ah! What sort of state is that?

Clearly not the state of sleep, or peace and tranquillity,

which I obviously won't attain until I'm in a state of death.

I'm not talking to you when you're in a mood.

Thank you.

Even though that Whitten boy tried to assault our daughter.

DRAMATIC OPERA MUSIC

What?

In the back of his father's Jag.

DRAMATIC OPERA MUSIC

No!

She's fine, though.

That's what you think, is it?

No, Susan. This is droit de seigneur.

Excuse me? Droit de seigneur,

as in Don Giovanni when the lord of the manor

had the right to take the virginity of any maiden in the realm.

You've been listening to Don Giovanni. No, I haven't, actually.

Um, it's common knowledge, isn't it? No, it isn't.

Oh, you're so sweet! I'm not sweet. I'm an incensed father!

Ben, don't make a scene. Damn right I'll make a scene!

A boy tries to assault my daughter, the little snot!

She feels she's already handled it.

I don't care what she thinks she thinks.

I'm her father. I know what she thinks.

And I'm her mother, and I wish I'd never woken you up. Do you remember

what the Commendatore did to Don Giovanni for messing with his girl?

He ran a sword through the toad! No, Ben. The toad killed the father.

No, he didn't. Yes, yes. Right at the beginning.

Oh, God! That's why I hate opera.

Even when you read the instructions, I still don't get it. I'll kill him!

No, you can't! If you say or do anything,

Janey will know I told you.

But you just did! But you're not supposed to know.

Then why did you tell me? Because I couldn't sleep. Neither can I, now.

But I feel a lot better!

That makes it all worthwhile, then.

Remember, if you do talk to her, act like you don't know anything.

I've had a lot of practice.

KNOCK AT DOOR What?

Hiya.

Um, I'm going down for a few biscuits. Do you want anything?

No, thanks. OK. Fine.

What's that smell?

It's incense. It adds an aura of mystery. A bit like Mum's cooking.

HE LAUGHS AWKWARDLY

Right, well, it's been fun chatting. See you.

So, um, how was the date last night?

Dad, I have to work. What is it? French.

Oh, I was good at French. Zut!

Not bad, eh? Alors.

It was boring, all right? The meal, the film - HE was a bore.

So, boring, eh?

Janey, can I say something about boys from the male perspective?

Please, God, no!

Look, I've got to say this, Janey, or I won't get back to sleep.

Um, the thing is, there's two basic differences between men and women

and, um, one is that girls mature very quickly.

And boys don't...

..mature at all.

So they, to make up for this deficiency, develop two brains -

a big brain that gives us our reasoning

and a little brain that tells us what to do.

Am I making myself clear?

Disgustingly so. So you understand what I'm saying?

What I don't understand is how Mum could tell you after I said not to.

This is not your problem, Dad.

Yes, but you ARE my problem.

You see, you've been this bewildering, complex little problem

for 16 years...

..and I don't think I'm going to solve you, my darling.

Really, Dad? Yep.

I'm not quite sure what that means, but I'll assume it's something good.

OK. One more thing.

When boys and girls reach a certain age... Dad, I'm not a vir...

..ry naive person.

So, um...

By saying you're not a vir-ry naive person,

meaning you're not very naive?

Yep, that's what I meant. That's...

..great, OK?

Good, good.

You'll never guess who's in the waiting room. Correct.

If you don't try, I won't tell you. Good.

Lord Whitten's son.

DRAMATIC OPERA MUSIC

What?! He broke his tooth on something.

Yes, my daughter's bra strap.

DRAMATIC OPERA MUSIC

Wait a minute.

That boy tried to assault my daughter, Janey.

How could you let her go out with him?!

I'll call her to offer my support. No! Don't do anything ever again.

Oh, I promised not to say anything and there I go, telling you!

You couldn't help it. Most men crack under my wily interrogation.

You only said, "What?"

I know. It's uncanny, isn't it?

Send in the patient.

DRILL WHIRS

No, Harper, you're a professional. You took an oath.

Seigneur. Thanks for seeing me.

Actually, I'm surprised to see you. Believe me, I didn't want to come.

But Father insisted, and you know Father.

Oh, yes. So, you have something to tell me? Yes.

Can we get a move on, please? I'm in a hurry.

So, are we in much pain? No.

Mm-hm. We'll soon see about that.

If you'd like to open wide, we'll have a look. Now...does this hurt?

Ow!

Good. Yes, it's a broken incisor.

We're going to need 10cc of Novocaine, Brigitte.

I bet you've a wild story about how this happened. Well, vaguely.

I was getting stuck into a rather bony little chicken.

"Bony little chicken". Yeah.

A tough little bird. Not quite the quality I'm used to.

Right. Brigitte, syringe, please. But, you know Father,

with all his blah-di-blah about natural, solid and plain.

And he calls the shots.

No, I'm afraid at the moment I call the shots.

If you'd like to open wide...

..this won't hurt a bit. Ah!

Let's begin, shall we?

Thank you. Right. DRILL WHIRS

It's showtime.

Wait. Are we numb yet?

No, you haven't given me my Novocaine. Ah, good.

So, are we numb now?

No, are you crazy? Don't you understand the word "no"?

Me? Didn't you understand the word "no" when my daughter said no?

What's he talking about? Don't play games with me, Toby.

I'm not Toby, I'm James.

You're who?

I'm James. James - Toby's brother.

Oh! Your father never mentioned a James.

Yeah, well, he never mentions me at all.

I'm not natural enough for his All-natural England.

You don't eat organic? No, no, no. I'm gay.

Gays don't eat organic?! What? Brigitte, stop it!

Let me get this straight -

this "bony little chicken" didn't mean my daughter?

No, it WAS a bony little chicken!

I am so sorry.

I am so confused.

It's enough I have to put up with my crypto-fascist father.

I'm away from home, away from my friends,

I don't know anyone in London.

I tell you what, James, Mr Harper has a son.

When you are right, you are really right. That was worth every penny.

You didn't have to pay, we were given the tickets. Even better.

I loved every minute, apart from Zerlina's wedding feast -

someone snoring in our row.

I didn't hear anything. Because it was you.

I was resting my eyes, and I don't snore. Really?

I thought someone had escaped from the French horn section.

Well, goodnight. It's been a lovely evening.

Of course, the evening doesn't have to end.

My parents won't be home for hours.

What did you have in mind?

How about if I'm the young maiden and you're Don Giovanni?

OK, are you going to keep awake for the whole performance?

The opera was three hours.

What about the overture and selected highlights?

If I choose the highlights. OK.

Goodnight.