Original subtitles

[music playing]

[whirring]

[whirring]

[music playing on record player]

What-- what are you doing?

Watusi.

No, I don't mean that. I mean the cameras.

What's that for?

To take pictures of me doing the watusi.

What for?

For a martian report on Earth culture,

and stop asking questions.

This is very strenuous.

[whirring]

Well, I didn't know the watusi was culture.

Culture in its most comprehensive sense

reflects the trends, inclinations, manners,

and expressions of the times.

Today that includes Picasso, pop art,

the Beatles, and the watusi.

Hey, look, who is going to see this film on the Watusi though?

The Martian Committee on Interplanetary

Culture, and about 30 million other martians

and one Earth woman.

One Earth woman?

The one who is watching our preview

performance through our window.

[music playing]

[theme music]

[knocking]

Good evening.

I'm Miss Pringle.

Miss Pringle?

Hello, Tim.

[music playing]

Well, Miss Pringle, it's, it's nice to see you, Miss Pringle.

Very nice.

It's very, very nice.

Well, let's not overdo it.

I recall when just saying, good morning, Miss Pringle,

caused you to have severe gastronomical distress.

Oh, no.

That's not at all true.

No.

I have very fond memories of the times that I served under--

studied under you.

I-- I'd like you to meet my Uncle Martin O'Hara.

Miss Pringle.

How do you do, Miss Pringle?

I gather that you were one of Tim's old teachers.

Past teachers.

Age has nothing to do with it.

Um, um, Miss Pringle taught me English in Kawanga High School.

That must have been about, about 10 years ago.

Nine.

If my memory serves me, I didn't teach you much.

Well, you tried.

I accept that.

You've done rather well, all things considered.

You're a capable newspaper man.

I'm glad you stayed with it.

Miss Pringle, uh, sort of got me

interested in newspaper work.

She was the faculty advisor on our school newspaper.

I still am, which brings me to the reason

for my visit tonight.

We want your photo for the school paper.

Mine?

Well, this will explain it, I think.

I live nearby, and I thought I'd just drop it off rather

than have the school mail it.

Well, the students want me to sit on the committee to select

the teacher of the year.

Well, that's wonderful, Tim.

Yes, but why me?

An alumnus is always chosen to work along with the students

in these nominations.

Oh, I know.

But why me?

You're either redundant or there's an echo in this room.

He's redundant.

And in answer to why you, I suppose

the children think that a newspaper

man is a glamorous figure.

Naturally, you'll accept.

Oh.

Well, I-- well, I, I, I don't know.

I'll have to think about it.

Indecision is not an admirable trait, Tim.

It made a mess of Hamlet.

You notify the school as to your decision,

and get that photo to me if you decide to accept.

Good night. - Oh, good night.

It's been a pleasure, Miss Pringle.

I'll, I'll see you to the door.

Oh, I glimpsed through the window before I entered.

Was that the watusi you were attempting?

Attempting?

If so, your version lacked authenticity.

The watusi is an aborigine ceremonial dance.

I researched primitive culture when

I studied for my doctorate.

Oh, you see, I don't know anything about the original.

That was before my time.

I should hope so.

Aborigines have been extinct for over a thousand years.

I doubt that you're more than 40.

Sure he is.

But not much.

If you would like to see some of the original--

Oh, I would.

Would you mind showing me some?

Would you mind putting on the record, Tim?

Sure.

[MUSIC PLAYING ON THE RECORD PLAYER]

That is a bit of the basic watusi, gentlemen.

Magnificent, Miss Pringle.

How about that?

You won't forget the photograph, will you, Tim?

It's the last issue of the paper for the term,

and it is my final issue.

I'm retiring in two weeks.

Retiring?

MISS PRINGLE: Well, I've had 30 years of it,

and I have had plenty.

[whirring]

Now I'm looking forward to just being at leisure,

to just doing nothing.

Goodnight.

[music playing]

Goodnight.

[music playing]

Retired, isn't she?

You know, Uncle Martin, I just never

thought that, well, that Miss Pringle

would be glad to retire.

She's not.

She hasn't any choice.

She's passed the age limit now.

I read her mind, Tim.

Retirement is painful to her.

You know why she came here tonight?

The letter.

UNCLE MARTIN: That was just an excuse.

She's been visiting many of her old pupils.

She's clinging to the past.

Sentiment brought her here.

Sentiment?

Miss Pringle is about a sentimental

as Baby Face Nelson.

Oh, no.

Look, if you read her mind and you found sentiment,

it was a misprint.

She'd be as reluctant to admit to sentiment

as you are to credit her with it, but it's there nonetheless.

Tim, she's revisiting the past because subconsciously she

needs reassurance that her work was worthwhile.

Tim, you are going to serve on that committee.

I am?

And you're going to get Miss Pringle nominated.

I am going to get Miss Pringle nominated?

Who do you think I am?

The miracle worker? Oh, no.

Forget it.

Now, what kind of an attitude is that?

A coward.

Look, the kids just can't stand her, and I can understand why.

I was one of them, you know?

She's a good teacher, isn't she?

She is the best, but people just don't like her.

Now, You can't get people to like people when people just

don't want to like people, no matter how

much you'd like those people--

I think I'm mixed up.

Sometimes, Tim, dislike stems from a lack of communication.

If the students really understood her,

they'd realize how much she's given them.

And that woman needs to hear someone say, good girl.

You did a fine job.

OK.

I'll call on the phone and I'll say, good girl.

You did a fine job.

UNCLE MARTIN: That's not enough, and you know it.

Can you arrange to have the student committee meet here?

Well, sure, but--

now wait a minute.

You're not going to pull some kind of Martian hanky panky?

I wouldn't think of it.

[whirring]

Nuts?

Yeah, I must be if I can let you convince me that we're

going to try and pull this off.

I nominate Miss Pringle.

Miss Pringle?

Well, she's a good teacher, isn't she?

Well, sure, but Miss Pringle?

Well, then, just give me one good reason why not.

Well, because nobody would vote for her.

She's a, a tiger, Mr. O'Hara.

Call me, Tim.

Well, tigers are just grown up pussycats.

Wouldn't work, uh, Tim.

How about Miss Flaherty?

- She's a doll. - Right.

Yeah. All right.

Who else?

Miss Pringle.

How about Mr. Robbins?

STUDENT: Yeah, that's a good idea.

He worked on the basketball dance and also on the raffle.

Excuse me.

I'll go see how the refreshments are coming.

How about Mr. Moore?

Well, it's no use.

They just won't--

I thought you were preparing the food.

[whirring]

Oh.

Well, I tried, Uncle Martin, but I told you.

They just will not go along on Miss Pringle.

Tim, I'm perfectly aware of what's been going on.

Now, would you please keep quiet?

[whirring]

What are you doing?

Relaying a telepathic message.

Quiet, now.

Going, going, gone.

[popping]

[whirring]

Popcorn?

UNCLE MARTIN: O'Hara.

Popcorn O'Hara?

- Thanks a lot, Tim. - Yeah.

If it's all right with you, we'd

like to meet tomorrow morning down at the faculty room

and wind up the nominations. - Yeah.

We have to finish by tomorrow because the ballots

have to go to print shop. - Yeah.

Yeah.

Well, I'll, uh-- I'll be there.

OK.

Well, let's split.

[whirring]

[music playing on record player]

It's got a super magnetic automatic turner on.

A watusi, anyone?

[music playing]

[knocking]

Oh, Miss Pringle.

It was the strangest thing.

I was working on the newspaper, and all of a sudden,

I had an irresistible urge to see you.

Oh, you have guests.

I-- oh, I'll leave.

Oh, no, no.

Please, please, Miss Pringle.

Come in, won't you?

Oh, hello, Miss Pringle.

We were just leaving. - Yes.

Just leaving. - Oh, no hurry.

No hurry.

Oh, Miss Pringle, I was just doing some of the watusi,

but I'm afraid I lack some of the finer nuances.

[whirring]

Uh, Miss Pringle, that's a super magnetic

automatic turner-on-er.

How am I doing, Miss Pringle?

Well, I think you lack more than the nuances.

It's a--

[stomping]

[music playing on record player]

That was just great, Miss Pringle.

We never knew.

My goodness, Miss Pringle.

Miss Pringle, if the rest of the kids could see you now,

why--

They'd think I was almost human?

Well, thank you, George.

I have no intention of doing the watusi at the assembly.

Incidentally, you all have an English final this week.

I suggest you apply yourselves.

You're not being graded on the watusi, you know.

Yes, Miss Pringle.

Well, thank you very much for everything.

Goodnight.

[music playing]

Well, no one can deny that I have a talent

of breaking up parties.

Yes, you sure have.

You know, you had those kids right in the palm of your hand

and you blew it?

For the first time, Ms, Pringle, they really liked you.

They never like me.

Since when is that something to be proud of?

Tim.

I'm sorry, Miss Pringle.

I shouldn't have said that.

No, you're right.

They don't like me, and that is nothing to be proud of.

It seems all I've accomplished is

to end my 30-year career with the loud, relieved

sighs of my students.

[music playing]

Goodnight.

[music playing]

Well, now, what's that going to do?

UNCLE MARTIN: Well, uh, I just don't want you

to see a grown-up martian cry.

Oh.

Well, here.

UNCLE MARTIN: Thanks.

[crying]

[music playing]

STUDENT: Well, anyone care to discuss the senior dance?

SALLY: What for?

It will be the same jolly quilting bee it always is.

Oh, come on.

I think it will be a wild time.

Are you sure you went to Kawanga, Mr. O'Hara?

Oh.

It's still sort of uh--

You know it.

Fox trot, two step.

Oh, and, and the Kovach.

Well, Sally's exaggerating a little bit, O'Hara.

Not much. Well, look.

The seniors come because they have to.

It's their dance.

But it's the worst.

You know, I wish once, just once,

they'd let us have our own music and dance the way we want to.

Well, let's not waste our time on idle dreams.

Let's get on with the nominations.

That we can do something about.

Now, are there any suggestions?

Miss Pringle.

[whirring]

Well, good morning.

What are you doing here, Mr. O'Hara?

Oh, I uh, came along with Tim.

He's in with the committee.

They're winding up the nominations this morning,

you know. - Oh, the nominations.

Yes.

I would like to apologize for my conduct last evening.

There's nothing to apologize for, Miss Pringle.

Oh, you have a very fine school library in there.

Yes.

Oh, yes.

One of the finest in the country.

When I came here 30 years ago, there was no selection at all.

Oh, I made a nuisance of myself.

I badgered the school board.

Sometimes I think I'm in my [inaudible] the way

I keep referring to the past.

Wouldn't you like to see the gym, or the labs,

or meet some of the young teachers?

I can have one of the students take you around.

No, no.

No thank you, Miss Pringle.

[chuckles]

Something wrong?

Yes.

I'm a little disappointed in Tim's alma mater, Miss Pringle.

Well, this is a very fine school, Mr. O'Hara.

I'm sure it is, in many ways.

In every way.

Well, where I come from, Miss Pringle,

the educators allow the students to express themselves freely.

But we encourage self-expression.

Then why aren't the students allowed to have their music

or do their dances?

But of course, the students should be allowed to express

themselves in their own idiom.

Including the watusi?

Just what is wrong with the watusi?

UNCLE MARTIN: Not a thing.

But I guess there's nothing to be done about it.

We'll see about that.

Excuse me.

[music playing]

MISS PRINGLE: I'll be brief and to the point, Mr. Arons.

[chuckling]

When you call me Mr. Arons, I know I'm in for it.

What is it this time, Hortense?

MISS PRINGLE: Don't try to soft soap me, Joseph.

MR. ARONS: Why, I wouldn't think of it.

What's on your mind, Hortense?

I know you're going to say I'm interfering.

[whirring]

MR. ARONS: You've been interfering for 30 years,

Hortense, but always on your student's behalf.

I don't know how they or I would have gotten along

without your interference.

MISS PRINGLE: Now, let's not get [inaudible].

I want to know why the students can't do

their own dances at the awards.

You mean the watusi?

What's wrong with the watusi?

Why, the watusi is as much a part of this time and culture

as, as the minuet was of another time and culture.

The watusi?

Don't be snide, Joseph.

I remember the time when you thought

the bunny hug was daring.

[laughter]

MR. ARONS: Am I really that much behind the times, Hortense.

MISS PRINGLE: Only in this, Joseph.

A man with large visions sometimes loses

sight of the smaller things.

Well, do they watusi?

They watusi I'll tell the committee that you--

MISS PRINGLE: Don't you dare mention my name.

MR. ARONS: Miss Pringle, for 30 years

you've been beating a path of this office

to fight for something or other for your students, a new art

program, a new library.

You've helped a hundred kids who got into trouble.

And not once, not once, have you permitted me to give

credit where it belongs.

Not once have you heard a single student

say, thank you, Miss Pringle.

Has it been worth it, Hortense?

Let's not change the subject, Joseph.

Do they watusi?

They watusi.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

[whirring]

[music playing on record player]

It's just about blast off time.

Ah, ah, quiet.

Come on.

A little quiet, huh?

Come on, now.

Quiet down just a minute.

[mumbling] Hey, look.

Come on now.

Come on.

Everybody quiet. Listen.

[laughter]

All right.

Mr. Arons, members of the faculty, Mr. O'Hara,

and fellow seniors, as you all know,

every graduating class honors one teacher who they feel

has contributed above and beyond the call of duty.

We feel that every teacher deserves recognition,

but that special devotion deserves special recognition.

Now, the balloting is over, and the results

until now are secret.

May I have the envelope please, Mr. O'Hara?

By unanimous vote, teacher of the year and I

guess for the past 30 years, Miss Pringle.

[applause]

Mr. O'Hara, would you please escort Miss Pringle to the mic?

Uh, no.

He's uh, he's talking to me.

I'm O'Hara, remember?

You're not. Oh.

That's right.

I'm [inaudible].

But don't rub it in.

[applause]

Miss Pringle, it's been said that all that glitters

isn't gold.

In this case, we like to say that all that's gold

doesn't glitter.

You're solid gold, Miss Pringle.

[music playing]

Thank you.

Recent-- recently, I have wondered whether I hadn't spent

the last 30 years of my life doing something

for which I was not fitted.

I know now this was very foolish of me.

All I had to do was just look at you.

And now that I've looked at you, it was worth it, Joseph.

Oh, Miss Pringle, you didn't get your watch yet.

I certainly didn't.

Damn thing probably won't keep time anyway.

[laughter]

[applause]

[music playing]

Sentimental goop, all of it.

Go after her, Tim, and giver her a handkerchief.

What for?

To wipe her eyes with.

She's not crying.

She will be in about 10 seconds.

Oh?

Oh. - Tim?

Yeah?

You know, this is one of the nicest planets

I've ever visited.

[chuckles]

Come off it.

[music playing]

That's great, Uncle Martin.

That's absolutely great.

[whirring]

Where are you going?

UNCLE MARTIN: I can't stand to see a grown up human cry.

Oh.

Oh.

Thank you.

[crying]

Enjoy.

[theme music]