All language subtitles for Wodehouse.in.Exile.2013.1080p.WEBRip.x265-RARBG2_English

-REPORTER:
This is the BBC Home Service.
-[SIRENS WAILING]

And now,
here is William Connor,

Cassandra,
ofThe Daily Mirror,

with his postscript.

WILLIAM CONNOR:
I have come
to tell you tonight,

the story of a rich man

trying to make his last
and greatest sale,

that of his own country.

[EXPLOSIONS]

It is a sombre story
of honour pawned to the Nazis

for the price of a soft bed
in a luxury hotel.

It is the record
of PG Wodehouse

ending 40 years
of money-making fun

with the worst joke
he ever made in his life.

The only wisecrack
he ever pulled

that the world
received in silence.

[EXPLOSION]

[TYPEWRITER CLACKING]

"After the thing was over,

"when peril had
ceased to loom,

"I confessed to Jeeves
that there had been moments

"during the recent proceedings
when Bertram Wooster,

"though no weakling,

"had come very near
to despair."

[SHOUTING] Plummie!

Plummie, are you there?

Oh, you are in there.
Why didn't you say
you were in there?

Well, I wasn't entirely sure
that I was.

REPORTER ON RADIO:
Though the fall of France
now seems inevitable,

thousands of British troops

have been successfully
evacuated from Dunkirk.

Hundreds of small boats

operating under
heavy German fire

-have managed
an extraordinary...
-[TURNS OFF RADIO]

What happens now?

Stilton Cheesewright is
baying for Bertie's blood

and Jeeves will need
an extra portion of fish

to come up with a scheme
in order to extricate
the young man about town.

I was talking, Plummie,
about the war.

And I was talking
about my novel.

[KNOCKING AT DOOR]

Who can that be?

[MEN SHOUTING]

I think it's the German Army.

Shall we let them in?

Or shall we pretend to be out?

[KNOCKING AT DOOR]

[OPENING DOOR]

WODEHOUSE: Hello there.

[SPEAKING GERMAN]

-Uh...
-What does he want?

World domination, I imagine.

Don't antagonise him.

I went through your books
the other day.

You come out
pretty anti-German.

I think I did say it was time

Hitler took a firm position
on his moustache.

-I mean,
does he want it or not?
-[KNOCKING AT DOOR]

[SPEAKING GERMAN]

Very pretty uniform.

Sort of, uh... Lincoln green.

Do you speak no German at all?

[SPEAKING GERMAN]

It is all you can say
in German?

That it is nice weather?

[REPEATING IN GERMAN]

Well, you are English.

You only talk
about the weather.

I'm afraid I am.
English, I mean.

And I do adore
talking about the weather.

We requisition your vehicles.

The keys to the cars, please.

Also the bicycle.

How low can men stoop?

[SPEAKING GERMAN]

[REPEATING IN GERMAN]

[LOUD MUSIC PLAYING
IN DISTANCE]

"I hove to
at the stripling's side.

"'Hello, young Edwin,' I said.

"His gaze had been riveted
on the ground,

"but at the sound
of the familiar voice..."

[MEN LAUGHING LOUDLY]

"A couple of pink-rimmed eyes

"came swivelling round
in my direction.

"He looked up at me
like a ferret

"about to pass the time of day
with another ferret."

"'I'm studying ants,'
said the boy.

"'Do you know anything
about ants, Bertie?'"

[BANGING AND SHOUTING]

"'Well, only from
meeting them at picnics.'"

[THUDDING]

[MEN SINGING LOUDLY]

What on earth is going on?

Germans.
They're using the bathroom.

Swine.

Hey, I hope that's not
my toothbrush.

They're capable of anything.

[MEN LAUGHING]

Apparently, you have to report

to the German Commandant
in Le Touquet.

Oh.

Just me?

Ethel. Bunny, darling.

Schnell.Pack.

No time for a bath, I suppose.

I don't know where my wife is.

I'd like to say
goodbye to her.

Five minutes?

Twenty, perhaps?

No, no. 10 it is.

With negotiating skills
like ours,

war could possibly
have been averted.

Wife.

Ethel. Wife.

Met her in New York in 1914.

I seem to remember you chaps

were about to go
on the rampage even then.

She was on the stage.

Tremendous fun.

Isn't she lovely?

Schnell.

Plummie? Is that you?

I rather fear it is,
old thing.

SOLDIER: Schnell!

The Commandant told us
that we have to pack.

We're being sent somewhere.

Not quite sure where.

-He had a glass eye,
which was rather fetching.
-Plummie...

I took the collected works
of Shakespeare.

I thought about
the Murglow Murder Mystery,

but then I thought,
it's high time I read

the stuffing out
of Henry VI, Part 2.

I don't think I've got room
for my novel.

Look after it for me,
will you?

We've had some good times,

me and that novel.

SOLDIER: Schnell.

-You'll need butter.
-No.

There are practically
no limits

to what a pack of butter
can do in warm weather

to the inside
of a small suitcase.

-I think I prefer
my Shakespeare unbuttered.
-[SOBBING] Oh, Plummie.

I shall be fine, sweetheart.

It can't be as bad as getting
an honorary degree in Oxford.

Please hold up, old thing.

The Boche will think
they've won.

Mind you,

they do have some grounds

for thinking that
at the moment, don't they?

Schnell!

His German vocabulary
is almost as limited as mine.

Toodle pip... Old thing.

I say.

I say.

Is this Algy of Algy's Bar?

I am he. I cannot deny it.

Is that by any chance
a suitcase, you're carrying?

Once again you have me
at a disadvantage.

A suitcase is what it is,
old bean.

As in, suitcase in which
you pack things for a journey?

You're hitting the nail
on the head with almost
suspicious regularity.

As in, journey towards
a dungeon

to which the Germans
are planning to confine one
for the duration?

This, too, is horribly close
to the mark, old friend.

I tremble like a badly-set
blancmange, Algy.

Me, too.

[TRAIN WHISTLE TOOTING]

MAN 1: What's happening
in the world, I wonder?

WODEHOUSE: Yes.

Isn't it marvellous
not to have access
to the English newspapers?

It's like being on holiday!

[LAUGHING]

MAN 2: Are we in Germany?

Not sure.

At least we're no longer
in Belgium.

Home is not home
to a Belgian soldier

until he can write his name
in the alluvial deposits
on the floor.

[MEN LAUGHING]

We're in Upper Silesia,
as a matter of fact.

If this is Upper Silesia, what
must Lower Silesia be like?

[LAUGHING] I don't know!

Brilliant.

Are you who I think you are?

It all depends who you think
I am, I suppose.

PG Wodehouse.

I'm afraid I am he.

[LAUGHING]

Name's Mackintosh.
Winchester and Oxford.

In case anyone wants to know.

Were you Oxford or Cambridge,
Mr Wodehouse?

I wasn't actually at either.

My people couldn't
afford to send me.

I went straight into the bank.

Said the wrong thing, have I?

Afraid you're stuck with me
for the duration. [CHUCKLING]

I was a war graves gardener.
In Boulogne.

ETHEL: "Leonora,
my darling daughter.

"If I knew where Plummie was,
I would write to him.

"But I don't.

"I'm stuck here
with only the dog and
the parrot for company.

"I am teaching
the parrot to say,
'God save the king.'

"The Germans took
Plummie away to some
concentration camp.

"God alone knows where.

"If this letter ever reaches
you, my darling Leonora,

"write to Plum's agent
in New York.

"As America aren't
in the war yet,

"maybe they can start
a campaign to have
him released.

"I cannot see what harm
he could possibly do
to anyone, do you?

"I miss him so much."

Darling!

It seems poor Plum
has been lost.

ALL:
♪ IT'S A LONG WAY TO TIPPERARY

♪ It's a long way to go

[DOG BARKING]

♪ It's a long way to Tipperary

♪ To the sweetest girl I know

♪ Goodbye Piccadilly

♪ Farewell Leicester Square

♪ It's a long, long way
to Tipperary

♪ But my heart's right there ♪

All I've had since
Belgium is a piece of sausage
and some dry bread.

Funny. That's exactly
what I've had, too.

[LAUGHING]

[CHUCKLES] Brilliant!

[SOLDIER SHOUTING IN GERMAN]

What is this place?

Apparently, it was
a lunatic asylum.

They found the right place
for me then.

Gentlemen!

My name is Buchelt.

I am the camp leader,
as you say in English.

Or Der Lagerfuhrer,as we say
in the German language.

I have learnt my English
in a good school.

I was interned in England
during the last war,

which by some mistake you
English seem to have won!

[LAUGHING]

He reminds me strongly
of my mother.

BUCHELT: Welcome!

[EXPLOSIONS]

It's Plum's stepdaughter here.
Leonora Cazalet.

REYNOLDS: Oh, Leonora.
I'm having trouble hearing.

There's a bombing raid on
at the moment. Very boring.

We wanted to know
if there was any news of Plum.

Are you all right, Leonora?

No, no, no, we're fine.

[AEROPLANES WHOOSHING]

Britain can take it,
Mr Reynolds.

[EXPLOSION]

Though I think we'd
all be frightfully pleased

if you lot cared to lend
us a hand!

Some of us wish we could.

I'm glad you managed to
get your mother some money.

We haven't heard a thing,
I'm afraid. But we have...

My God!

What?

It's him! It's a postcard!

Read it to me!

"I'm in lunatic asylum
near Polish border.

"Goodness knows
when you will get this.

"Will you send me
a five-pound parcel?

"One pound
Prince Albert tobacco,

"the rest, nut chocolate.

"Repeat monthly."

[LAUGHING]

"I'm quite happy here and have
thought out new novel.

"I'm hoping to be
able to write it."

Isn't he your perfect author,
Mr Reynolds?

The Germans shove him
behind barbed wire

and all he can think about is
the next Jeeves book.

[RATTLING]

We have to try and get him
out of there.

WODEHOUSE:
"The great advantage here

"is that the authorities
leave you alone
for most of the day,

"so I have time to write.

"It's all quite fun, actually.

"If you see a German officer,
you are supposed
to shout,'Achtung'

"and stand to attention."

Achtung!

[MEN LAUGHING]

"Plenty of scope
for practical jokes

"on the lines of the old
game of Beaver!

"I do miss you,
Bunny darling."

What are you writing
now, Wodehouse?

A letter to my wife.

Where is she?

My stepdaughter
got her some money.

She seems to be still
stuck in France.

I never married.
Never found the right woman.

I admire you, Wodehouse.
You manage to keep so calm.

[CHUCKLES] How do you do it?

I write. Anything.
Letters, novels, anything.

Actually, I am writing
a sort of diary of the
life of an internee.

I bet it's a laugh.
Can we hear a bit?

Oh, it's awfully
rough at the moment.

Oh.

But...

Well, um...

"Well, this is one
of our many stops

"on the way to this
holiday camp.

"Loos prison,
for those who remember it.

"Owing to having led
a blameless life
since infancy,

"I had never seen the inside
of a calaboose before

[MAN LAUGHING]

"and directly I set eyes
on the official

"in the front office
of Loos Prison,

"I regretted that
I was doing so now.

"There are moments, as we pass
through life, when we gaze

"into a stranger's face
and say to ourselves,

"'I have met a friend.'

"This was not one of
those occasions.

[ALL LAUGHING]

"There is probably nobody
in the world less elfin than

"a French prison official.

"And the one twirling
his moustache at me

"looked like something out of
a film about Devil's Island.

"When I got out into the
exercise yard next morning

"and met some of the men
who had been in the
place for a week,

"I found that they,
on arrival,

"had been stood
with their faces to the wall,

"stripped to their BVDs,

"deprived of all
their belongings

"and generally made to feel
like so many imprisoned
pieces of cheese."

[MEN LAUGHING]

More! More!

Yes, come on, Plum.

Why is "cheese" a funny word?

It is though, isn't it?

Cheese!

[ALL LAUGHING]

It's always good for
a chuckle is "cheese."

[DOGS BARKING]

I'm, uh... I'm 60 next month.

They're going to let me out.

If you need any money,

my agent is sending
me food parcels,

and trying to get royalties
from German translations
of my books.

You're too good
for this world, Plum.

Achtung,chaps.

Prisoner 796! Whitehousen!

To see the Lagerfuhrer!

Oh, Lord!
[BREATHING HEAVILY]
What have I done now?

At ease!

Your English
is frightfully good.

We have received many letters
about you, HerrWodehouse.

It seems we have
a famous author in our camp.

Well, author, anyway.

The daughter of your wife

and your American agent

lead a campaign
for your release.

I don't want to be treated any
differently to anyone else.

The old school tie.
The monocle.

The spats. Yeah?

If you say so.

Bertie Wooster.
I agree, Jeeves!
It is a very funny book.

I don't think
I wrote a book called...

Oh. Right Ho, Jeeves.

What is this "Right Ho?"

BUCHELT: I have read
your work, HerrWodehouse.

The bread rolls at the
Drones Club. Lord Emsworth.

He loves his pig.
It is most amusing.

Thank you.

An American journalist from
the Associated Press wishes to

make an interview with you.

Well, um...

Well, I can't see
what harm that would do.

"I say, old bean.
Shall we have snorter?"

♪ It's the start of the show
and a bit of a frost

♪ Because all of us
are imprisoned in Tost! ♪

[CHUCKLES] Tost... Frost.
Very good.

Well, you wrote it, Plum.

I had no idea I was that good.

Who gave him the typewriter?

The Lagerfuhrer.Lent to him.

He had to pay,
but decent of him, wasn't it?

You'll get into trouble.

Saying nice things
about the Germans!

[CLICKING TONGUE]

Oh, for God's sake,
you little tick!

MAN: Come on you chaps.

♪ It's the start
of the show... ♪

So how are they treating you,
Mr Wodehouse?

Well, they're not beating
me with rubber truncheons
or anything.

I am being fed and so on.

Is there anything you have to
say to the American people?

I know you have many readers
in America.

Oh, gosh.

Uh, tell them I'm okay.

And thanks for
the food parcels.

Don't make too much of me.

May we go over to the camp
and take a few pictures?

Naturally.

Not all Germans are beasts,
you know, Mr Thuermer.

I am the only beast, I think!

[LAUGHING]

That's wonderful,
Mr Wodehouse.

Don't look too wonderful,
old bean, will you?

You're supposed to look
beaten and abject
and cruelly mistreated.

Mr Mackintosh has a dark,
witty side to him.

Maybe we should
have a picture of you and
Mr Mackintosh together, eh?

Oh, no, no, no! No.

Are they really
treating you okay?

I'm afraid they are,
on the whole.

Plum's writing
a book about it.
He made us all laugh with it.

Are you chaps going to
come into the war?

Nobody quite knows
at the moment.

Plack.

Didn't you know
Wodehouse in Hollywood?

I did.

Some American journalist
named Thuermer managed
to find out

he's interned in
a civilian camp in Tost.

He's done an interview and the
New York Timesare running it.

What does he say about us?

He says we feed him.
He is quite nice.

Wodehouse is incapable
of being nasty about anyone.

He must be 60 by now.

Do we still keep aliens
in prison after 60?

We release them sometimes.

In this case, I suspect with
a great deal of publicity.

To show the Americans what
nice people we are.

We don't want them
in the war, do we?

There are an awful
lot of them.

[SIGHS] All he says
is that we are feeding him.

If you are thinking
you can get him to do
a commercial for Germany,

forget it.

He is the typical,
loyal Englishman.

WODEHOUSE:
"The first time you see a
German soldier in your garden,

"your impulse is to jump
ten feet straight into the air
and you do so.

"But this feeling of
embarrassment soon passes.

"A week later you find you are
only jumping five feet."

[ALL LAUGHING]

"The chief drawback of being
an internee is that

"you are away from home
a good deal.

"It is not pleasant to think
that by the time

"I see my Pekinese again,
she will have completely
forgotten me

"and will bite me to the bone,

"her invariable practise
with strangers.

"And I feel that,
when I rejoin my wife,
I had better take

"a letter of introduction,
just to be on the safe side."

[ALL LAUGHING]

Why is this funny? That he
will not recognise his wife?

Does he not like his wife?

It is English humour.

It is why Wodehouse
is a famous genius.

I do not understand it.

[ALL LAUGHING]

Apparently, he is writing
some humourous pieces

about life in this
camp of his.

Maybe that can be good
for us, Werner.

How?

Get on to the Lagerfuhrer
at Tost and tell him

I have a proposition
I wish him to put to the
great Wodehouse.

But Wodehouse is not to know
it comes from us.

[CLACKING]

[LAUGHING] This is funny!
Very, very funny!

Oh, well, the chaps
seem to enjoy it.

I really did enjoy it.

It reminded me
of my time as a guest of
His Majesty's government!

This passage, when you are
being driven away
from Loos prison.

"Summing up my experience
as a gaolbird,

"I would say that a prison
is all right for a visit,

"but I wouldn't live there
if you gave me the place.

"On my part, at any rate,
there was no moaning
at the bar

"when we left Loos and..."
You read this bit. Please.

"I was glad to go.

"The last I saw of the old
Alma mater was the warder

"closing the door of the van
and standing back

"with the French equivalent
of, 'Right away!'

"He said, 'Au revoir'to me,
which I thought
a little tactless."

[LAUGHING]

Just because we are at war,

it does not mean
we cannot laugh.

My view entirely.

[CLACKING]

You like this room
for writing?

It's very kind of you
to give it to me.

It's, uh...
It's a padded cell.
Rather appropriate, really.

What you write.
About the camp.

It is very funny.

Very, very funny.

Like Bertie Wooster
and Jeeves. No?

Well...

You should broadcast
these writings.

Well... I'm rather...

Tied up here at the moment.

Indeed.

But soon I think
you will be free.

Will I?

You are almost 60,
HerrWodehouse.

The German government
has no quarrel with
old age pensioners.

Well...

They seem to have quarrelled
with almost everyone else.

[LAUGHING MANIACALLY]

Most amusing.

[SIGHING]

So you might contemplate
broadcasting to America.

If you were let out.

I gave an interview to
the Americans, didn't I?

That seemed to be all right.

I do worry about
the Americans.

And they seem to be rather
worried about me.

There is a war on.

And war is not
a pleasant business.

Indeed not.
I think, on the whole,

I'm against it.

I also.

[CLACKING]

So he has taken the bait.

We keep the Gestapo
out of it. Yes?

They are not interested.

I wouldn't want him
to be too compromised.

I'm fond of the old boy.

He's like a child.

My dear Plack,
the whole point of the
exercise is that this man

is a loyal Englishman
saying that not all
Germans are swine.

I am assuming that is what
he will say.

He will not talk
about unpleasant things.

He does not like to talk
about unpleasant things.

So he will not make his time
with us seem too unpleasant.

Which will make us popular
with the Americans.

Look at all this!
He is a hero to them!

They like to accentuate
the positive.

WODEHOUSE:
Beware the leg break, Grant.

ALGY: I think as he made
the ball, Plum,

he may have a clue
as to how it behaves.

Oh, God. We old codgers
have it easy, don't we?

There's some... There's some
other camp further
down the road.

I hear ghastly
things about it.

Don't want to think
about things like that.

Nobody does, Plum.
Bowl up, eh?

Is Mackintosh fielding
or is he doing
botanical research?

I don't know what he is
or who he is,
but I don't like him.

I have no objection to grammar
school boys

unless they pretend to be
something else.

SOLDIER: Wadhosen?

Widhoose. Werdhowz. Weidhiss.

Whatever you choose
to call me, I am here.

You are to be released.

Is this to do with being 60?

I'm only
59-and-three-quarters.

What are you going
to put down?

Bowler seized in mid over?

I shall miss you chaps.

We'll miss you too, old boy.

Who's going to make us laugh?

Who's going to give
us good advice?

Who's going to get such bloody
wonderful food parcels?

And share them out,
what's more?

You must pack. Now.

Also Mackintosh.
You also are released.

Didn't I tell you boys?
I was 60 last week.

What's going on here,
Mackintosh?

Don't worry, chaps.

I'll look after the greatest
English comic writer
since Shakespeare.

Look, I don't know what
your involvement is in
all of this, Mackintosh,

but if you do anything
to harm Plummie Wodehouse,

when this war is over and we
are back home, I will find you

and push your teeth
down your throat.

Who knows what
will happen when the war
is over, old bean.

Maybe jolly old England
won't be there
any more, old chap.

Pip-pip, you fellows!

[INDISTINCT]

My God!
I can't believe this!

Plum Wodehouse,
as I live and breathe.

[LAUGHS]
What can I do for you boys?

How extraordinary meeting
you here, Werner.

I haven't seen you since...

Since Hollywood.

Where they paid you
millions for sitting around
and doing nothing.

[LAUGHING]

What an extraordinary
coincidence!

The name's Mackintosh.
I've been released at the
same time as Mr Wodehouse!

Nice for Plum to have another
British fellow along.

Indeed.

Everyone in America has
been campaigning
for Plum's release.

Good to hear it.

I'd love to know if there's
any chance of seeing
Ethel again.

Ethel! My God!
My favourite Englishwoman!

Mine, too.

I'm sure we can organise it.
I can organise most things.

It's been a big press effort.

That New York Timespiece
has made you even more
famous than you were.

We must think of a way
of putting you in touch

with the great
American public.

Perhaps you could broadcast.
Over the radio.

Well, why not?

I understand quite a few
British POW's have gone on air

to tell their people
they're all right.

And you'll try and find Ethel,
Werner, will you?

Naturally. Naturally.

I suppose it would let
my American readers
know I'm okay.

I suppose.

We have had a communication
from someone who
is called Werner Plack

from the Foreign Ministry.

I think I know that name.

We used to know
a Werner Plack in Hollywood.

He was an absolute sweetheart.

He was your sweetheart?

If only, darling.
He is an absolute dish.

Could you get him for me?

[LAUGHING] You mean,
you mean on the telephone?

For you, Mrs Wodehouse,
anything.

You are our favourite
enemy alien.

It seems your husband
may be released soon.

Well, you are obviously very
famous in Germany, Wodehouse.

Yes, isn't it strange?

One would have thought they
had no sense of humour at all.

[MIMICKING]
Is zis a sausage, mein freund?

[LAUGHING]

Exactly.

You really should ask if you
can get on the radio as well.

Oh, as I say,
I'm not a writer.

Though I have written things.

I'm not really a writer.

In the sense of going
right down deep into life.

I'm just a musical
comedy man, really.

Although, comedy is important,
isn't it?

It reminds us all
of our common humanity.

Uh...

Gosh!

Am I being pretentious?

Absolutely not!

I just think writing is
so important.

People telling
the truth about things.

Encouraging others to think
life is worthwhile.

Or a waste of time, in the
case of certain authors.

[LAUGHING]

So you're going to broadcast
your talks... On the radio?

Do you think that
would a good idea?

We have to tell them we're
not down and out, don't we?

The old school still
has some fight left in her.

I'm all for that.

Stiff upper you-know-what.

I think, you know,
tell the truth.

Great is the truth
and it shall prevail.

I think I believe that.

Good for you.

Writing is escape for me.
In the literal sense.

Of escape from prison.

Good night, Mackintosh.

At least we have got you
a presentable jacket!

What's Mackintosh doing here?

I think we thought it would be
nice for you to have

a fellow Englishman around.

Ah.

Good for morale,
sort of thing?

Indeed.

You should put him on as well.

Don't let me
hog the limelight.

He may have family
he wants to reassure.

This is the
German Short Wave Station.

Here in our studio in Berlin
tonight is Mr PG Wodehouse,

the well-known father
of the inimitable Jeeves,

of Bertie Wooster,

Lord Emsworth, Mr Mulliner
and other delightful persons.

Mr Wodehouse has been
in Germany for almost a year

since German troops
occupied his residence
in Northern France.

We felt his American readers
might be interested
to hear from him

and so we have invited him

to the microphone to tell you
in his own words

how it all happened.

[CLEARING THROAT]

It is just possible that my
listeners may detect

in this little talk of mine,
a slight goofiness,

a certain disposition
to ramble in my remarks.

If so, the matter,
as Bertie Wooster would say,

is susceptible of a ready
explanation.

I have just emerged into
the outer world

after 49 weeks

of civil internment
in a German internment camp

and the effects have not
entirely worn off.

I feel slightly screwy
and inclined to
pause at intervals

in order to cut out
paper dolls and stick straws
in my hair,

or such of my hair
as I still have.

But it has been in many ways
quite an agreeable experience.

There is a good deal to be
said for internment.

It keeps you out
of the saloons

and gives you time to catch up
on your reading.

You also get a lot of sleep.

This is the transcript
of the Wodehouse broadcast.

Caversham picked it up
on shortwave.

-It seems fairly
harmless stuff.
-You think so?

"All that happened, as far
as I was concerned, was that

"I was strolling on the lawn
with my wife one morning,
when she lowered

"her voice and said,
'Don't look now, but here
comes the German army!'

"And there they were,
a fine body of men,

"rather prettily dressed in
green, carrying machine guns."

I thought it was
rather amusing.

Did you indeed?

It was only on short wave
to America.

"Only to America?
Only to America?"

Have you any idea what is
going on in the world?

That is the whole point
of the bloody German exercise.

To try and reassure
the Americans
and keep them neutral.

I have spent a six-month tour
of the USA trying to get

the Yanks into the war,

because we all know
that if we do not do so,

we may well lose
this bloody war.

We are losing shipping
in the North Atlantic.

We are weeks away from losing!

We have to get the Americans
in on our side!

Do I have to spell it
out to you?

What do you imagine Winston
has been doing for the
last six months?

The Americans are crucial,
and this idiot is not helping.

We are fighting
for our lives here.

And he makes jokes?

REPORTER: Ah, Mr Wodehouse.

I hear you have been
broadcasting to America
over the Nazi radio.

Have you made your peace
with Germany, Mr Wodehouse?

Yeah, we read in the New York
papers, Mr Wodehouse,

that they were treating you
well in the internment camp,
is that true?

Didn't you feel like fighting
back against the people
who were imprisoning you?

Uh...

I found it difficult to be
belligerent in camp.

You find it difficult
to be belligerent
about the war, right?

No, I didn't say that.

I said I found it difficult
to be belligerent in camp.

I was with prisoners...

He finds it difficult to feel
belligerent about this war.

When journalists put
words in your mouth,

I do wish they give you
better dialogue.

I must ask you to leave.
Please. Please. Thank you.

REPORTER ON RADIO:
And now here is
William Connor,

Cassandra of theDaily Mirror,
with his postscript.

WILLIAM CONNOR: I have
come to tell you tonight

of the story of a rich man
trying to make his last
and greatest sale

that of his own country.

It is a sombre story of
honour pawned to the Nazis

for the price of a soft bed
in a luxury hotel.

It is the record of
PG Wodehouse, ending 40 years
of money-making fun

with the worst joke
he ever made in his life.

The only wisecrack
he ever pulled that the world
received in silence.

When the war broke out,

Pelham Grenville Wodehouse
was at Le Touquet, gambling.

Oh, Plummie hardly
ever gambled.

And then only
for small stakes.

This makes him
sound like a playboy.

Denmark had been overrun
and Norway had been occupied.

But Wodehouse still
went on with his fun.

Oh! He tried his
damndest to get out.

There was even talk
of getting a boat to him,
do you remember?

This is lies.

I thought the British
didn't do propaganda lies!

I thought that was the whole
point of our democracy?

All we need to do is
get in touch with him.

Look after him.
Then he'll be all right.

...Charlie ever does.

Wodehouse was throwing
a cocktail party...

How can you say these things?
Cocktail party?

Plummie never threw a cocktail
party in his life.

He's the shyest,
sweetest old...

It'll be all right, darling.

We will get hold of him
and manage this thing
and it will be all right.

WODEHOUSE: I've had a cable
from my editor at the
Saturday Evening Post.

"Must warn you how
badly your talks are
being received here.

"People in America resent
your callous attitude

"to fellow Englishmen."

I... I was being humourous.

I was trying to show
our spirit wasn't broken.

I was trying to show them
we were bloody but unbowed,
sort of thing.

I don't understand it.

Have I made a fool of myself?

Of course you haven't, Plum.

All he has done
is tell the truth, hasn't he?

You have simply described
what you saw, Plum.

Telling the truth
is not a crime, is it?

Not in my book.

WODEHOUSE:
What's happening, Werner?

It'll all be fine, I'm sure.

You just have to explain why
you're doing them.

I'm not sure I should carry on
doing them at all.

Wouldn't that be admitting
you were wrong, Plum?

You could explain when
you give the next
broadcast why you,

you know, decided to speak.

An excellent idea.

This is just
a misunderstanding.

I didn't want
to offend anyone.

We can get through this.

I've still got to give
two more broadcasts.

Perhaps, I shouldn't give
those broadcasts.

I think you owe it to your
American readers, Plum!

Well, there's a fellow
Englishman speaking.

I'm sorry about this, Plum.
I really am.

You are not to worry about it.

It'll all blow over.

We can talk about the
other broadcasts when
you feel calmer.

When can I see Ethel again?

I'll get her to Berlin.

I promise.

We have the English
and American papers,
Mrs Wodehouse, if you like.

Du bist einsweetheart.

Oh, my God! The idiot!

How many hours before
we reach Berlin?

I am afraid it is a matter
of days, Mrs Wodehouse.

Accelerate!

I am sorry?

More speed. Faster. Schnell.

Hurry. Quick. Chop-chop.
Pacey-pacey.

Do I make myself clear?

The Press and public
in England

seem to have jumped
to the conclusion that I have
in some way been bribed

or intimidated into making
these broadcasts.

This is not the case.

I did not "make a bargain"
as they put it,

and buy my release
by agreeing to speak
on the radio.

I was released because
I am 60 years old,

or shall be in October.

The fact that I was free
before that date

was due to the efforts
of my friends.

I wanted to thank them,

which is why I am
continuing with these talks.

I have to stop my husband,
you see, from making
a fool of himself.

Do you have a wife?

I do.

Does she stop you from making
a fool of yourself?

She does, Mrs Wodehouse.

Well, there you are then.

Plus de vitesse.
Onward and upward.

Maximum velocity, old bean.

People began to experiment
with foods.

One man used to save
some of his soup at midday,

add jam and eat the result
cold in the evening.

I myself, got rather fond
of wooden matchsticks.

You chew them into a pulp
and swallow the result whole.

Wait there!

The morale of the men at Tost
was wonderful.

I never met a more
cheerful crowd

and I loved them
like brothers.

With this, I bring to an end
the story of my adventures

as British civilian prisoner
number 796,

and before concluding,
I should like to thank all

the kind people in America
who wrote me letters
when I was in camp.

Nobody who has not been
in a prison camp can
realise what letters,

especially letters like
those I received,

can mean to an internee.

[SIGHING] That's it!

[SHOUTING INDISTINCTLY]

Oh, my God! It's the Colonel!

-[INDISTINCT]
-I think she's cross
about something.

Probably about me.

She often is.

Oh, brave new world
it hath such creatures in it.

What on earth are you
thinking of, Werner?

What shocking mess
have you got him into?

How could you be
so bloody stupid?

I find it all too easy
to be stupid, I'm afraid.

Oh, don't give me
that line again.

Try it on the rest
of the world, Plummie.
I know you.

I'm in love with you for some
peculiar reason
and you are not stupid.

You are a very clever man
who is pretending to be stupid

for some mysterious reason
of his own, which I have
never understood.

You can never resist it,
can you?

The chance to amuse.

You are what that awful bloody
Irishman called you,

"English literature's
performing flea."

I shall use it as the title
of my autobiography.

Oh, shut up, Plummie,
for God's sake!

Shut up, can't you? Stop it.

And now it seems Dr Goebbels
is beaming your talks
over to Britain.

They've used you, Plummie.
You've been made a fool of.

You passed up a damned
good chance of keeping
your mouth shut, didn't you?

Do you think Werner
used me, then?

Of course, he bloody did.

Is he Gestapo, do you think?

Oh, for God's sake.

He's a survivor, that's all.
Like me.

I'm sure he does
what the Fuhrerorders.

I thought you liked Werner.

He amuses me.

Which is more than
you do at the moment.

I am so sorry.
I'm so terribly sorry.

We could get back to England

through Portugal or something.

And I could explain to...

To who? Winston Churchill?

King George VI?

I think you may be
a fool, actually.

All you're good for is making
stupid jokes and...

Don't look like that. Please.

Don't look like that!

-Like what?
-Like a dog I've just kicked.

Oh, I could never kick a dog.
It wouldn't be right.

Oh, for God's sake!

[SIGHS]

I brought your novel.

The Jeeves one
you started in Le Touquet.

Oh, you goof!

[KNOCK ON DOOR]

Am I intruding?

Not at all, Werner.

We should take you
out of Berlin.

To the Harz mountains perhaps.

Is there much nightlife
in the Harz mountains, Werner?

Wine, women and song for me.

And I'll be the woman,
if that's all right!

♪ There are bad times
just around the corner

[CLACKING]

♪ There are dark clouds
hurtling through the sky

♪ And it's no good whining ♪

REPORTER:
Excuse me. Do I disturb?

Uh...

I am anxious to make interview
with Mr PG Wodehouse.

Oh.

I'm afraid I'm not talking
to anyone.

I'm just holed up
in this hotel,
trying to write my novel

and waiting for the
war to be over.

-I admire your work and...
-Sorry.

I don't talk to people
any more.

It isn't safe.

[GERMAN MUSIC PLAYING]

[INDISTINCT]

ETHEL: You see that ghastly
little man over there?

That's Lord Haw-Haw.

[MOCKING] "Chairmany calling.
Chairmany calling."

He really is a fascist.

Werner looks after him, too.

When we win,
they will hang him
as a traitor.

And hang me
as an aperitif, perhaps?

-Plum, please.
-I am not afraid, Ethel.

I may have been naive,
but I do not think
I have acted as a traitor.

And I hope you do not believe
that is the case, either.

-You know I do not.
-Good.

[EXPLOSION]

We have to get out of this
awful place.

Get your friend Werner
to get us out of here.

To Paris.

The bombing's getting worse.

And what will we do in Paris?

We will face it out, Ethel.

That is what we will do.

That camp toughened you up,
didn't it?

Maybe it was the camp.

Or maybe it was you.

You are every bit as hard work

as the average concentration
camp guard.

Oh, Plum!

God.

You still here?

I was going to say
the same thing to you.

In fact, I am leaving
for Paris.

Nice. Escape. Nice.

Looks like our friends
are going to lose this war.

The Germans are not
my friends, Mackintosh.

We both did all right
out of them, didn't we?

Why did they let you out,
Mackintosh?

Told you. Because I'm 60.

-Are you?
-[SCOFFS]

I did some work for them.
That was all.

Nothing funny about that.
So did you, didn't you?

All I did was...

You're just as bad as me.

Don't pretend you're
any different.

-You're just the same as me.
-Am I?

Don't try and tell me
you didn't know
why they let you out.

I...

I didn't.
I didn't have a clue.

Famous writer.
Full of jolly jokes.
Not like poor little me.

But don't try and pretend
you're any different.

They'll find you out,
Wodehouse. You'll see.

You'll see.

Your pals in camp
didn't like me.

Thought I was a bit puff,
probably. Not a regular chap.

But you were kind to me.

Takes one to know one.

Well, I do try to be nice
to people, Mackintosh.

It's a bit of a rule with me.

The world is a lot more
complicated than you
imagine it to be...

Old bean.

Where did Plack get us into?

Some hotel. The Bristol,
I think it's called.

You always liked Werner,
didn't you?

He was always
your sort of chap.

What are you suggesting?

Nothing.

[LA VIE EN ROSEPLAYING]

Well...

Well what?

Ask a Nazi to book you an
hotel, you get a Nazi hotel.

I notice it hasn't stopped you
eating the food.

Fair comment.

I don't find Werner
in the least attractive.

He just amuses me.

Well...

You are not exactly consumed
with interest

in that side of life, are you?

Mumps. That's what did it.
Mumps.

Ethel, I have tried everything
to get back to England

and clear my name.
It's all I want to do.

Until I do that, I feel
I cannot go on with my life.

I'm writing my novel...

About Stilton Cheesewright.

What are they going
to make of that

when all of Europe is being
torn apart?

You're beginning to sound
like that man on the
Daily Mirror,old thing.

If I don't clear my name,

I will never have
a public again.

It's a matter of
life and death.

[EXPLOSION]

The Allies will
be here any day.

When they arrive,

I shall turn myself in
and tell them the truth,

and perhaps at last people
will know I am not a traitor.

[SPEAKING FRENCH]

A cause deBritish planes.

Aren't they a bore?

MAITRE D':
Merci. S'il vous plait.

Bonjour!

You can speak English,
if you prefer.

You speak English?

I do.

Also German, I imagine.

I have been speaking
a lot of German.

But I imagine it will not
be required in the
immediate future.

Indeed.
What a wicked world. Eh?

A very wicked world, sir.

But I am sure
the best side won,

as you English say.

I am looking for PG Wodehouse.

He is in the hotel, sir.

I am Major Muggeridge
of British Intelligence.

Indeed.

I hope Mr Wodehouse
is not in any trouble

with the British authorities.

He is a most popular guest.

I couldn't comment on that.
I'm in Intelligence
and we're never told anything.

I am afraid
the lift is broken.

You must use the stairs.

Pas de probleme.

[TYPEWRITER CLACKING]

[KNOCK ON DOOR]

Come.

Major Muggeridge.
British Intelligence.

And a novelist,
if I'm not mistaken.

Well... [CHUCKLING]

Yes.

Although, I'm afraid I'm here
on more serious business.

Indeed.

It has been alleged

that you have been in breach
of Section One of the
Treachery Act of 1940.

Indeed.

I'm sure you are aware
of the penalties

if found guilty
of such an offence.

I assume we still
hang traitors, don't we?

Or is drawing and quartering
coming back into fashion?

Shall I send down
for a bottle of wine?

[SIGHS]

A very good notion.

[BUZZER BUZZING]

Do they hate me in England?

Not everyone. AA Milne took
a rather dim view.

Hush, hush. Nobody cares
Christopher Robin
has fallen downstairs.

-Quite.
-He was supposed to be
a friend of mine.

I can't bear to think what
this is doing to Leonora.

She's is your...

My stepdaughter.
But I adopted her.

No, she's been wonderful
in all of this.

Oh, I wish I wasn't going
into a hospital.

Darling, it isn't
a serious operation.

It's Plum.

Someone will need to talk to
the politicians and the press

and sort it all out
and if I'm not there...

You will be there, darling.

But, first of all,
you need to rest.

He's an imbecile.
A complete imbecile.

He's a kind of saint.
In a way.

You're just worrying
about the operation.

That's all.

I've been a fool.
An absolute fool.

All I want to do now
is to clear my name.

People have printed lies about
me in the English papers.

I received money
from Dr Goebbels.

I threw cocktail parties
for the Nazis.

Well, I didn't.

I want to tell the truth
and have it published.

Chap called Major Cussen
will do the interrogation.

Barrister.
I'm sure you'll get on.

You're not obliged
to say anything,

but whatever you do say

will be taken down and may be
used in evidence against you.

I understand.

I was born in Guildford,
Surrey, on October 15th 1881,

of British-born parents.

In 1900, I joined the
Hong Kong and Shanghai Bank...

In 1917, I was rejected
for military service

by the United States
authorities

on account
of defective eyesight...

People have said that
I was paid by the Germans.
I wasn't.

I lived off the royalties
from my books while
I was in Germany.

I tried my damndest
to get out, but they
wouldn't let me go.

He's up there now.

Will he really be all right?

It'll be fine, Ethel.

Great is the truth
and it shall prevail.

I can't think you really
believe that, Malcolm.

Weren't you a journalist?

Unfortunately I was, Ethel.

He wants the truth to be told.
That is the important thing.

You've been so kind to us,
Malcolm.

I think LagerfuhrerBuchelt
had been told to sound me out

as to whether I was willing
to broadcast,

and he reported to Berlin.

But I did not broadcast in
exchange for being released.

I never had any intention
of assisting the enemy.

And I have been caused a great
deal of pain by my actions.

Can we talk about Mackintosh?

Mackintosh?

He was the man released
at the same time as you.

Well...

Mackintosh received the same
orders as myself.

He...

We have tracked him down,
and interviewed him.

You say he came with you
to the Foreign Office.

You were put in a hotel room
with him.

I spent a few days locked up
in the Adlon with him.

But...

I couldn't say I knew him.

Why release him at the same
time as you, Mr Wodehouse?

I really have no idea.

He always says, if something
bad happens, the answer is

to think of something else,
pretty damn quick.

He isn't equipped for this
nasty little century, is he?

Its lies and cruelties
and distortions.

There have been times when
I thought this business

would drag him under, but...

[ETHEL HUMMING]

Life's a musical comedy.
Don't you think?

"Don't let them get you down."

He writes wonderful lyrics.

♪ Shove all your worries
in a great big box

♪ As big as any box can be

♪ Shove all your worries
in a great big box

♪ And lock it with
a great big key

♪ Crying never yet
got anybody anywhere

♪ So just stick out your chin

♪ And shove all your worries
in a great big box

♪ And sit on the lid
and grin! ♪

MAJOR CUSSEN:
You see, Mr Wodehouse,
it is clear to me,

and this is what I shall say
in my report,

that the actual text
of your broadcasts

is not of
a pro-German character.

I cannot tell you how happy
that makes me.

But...

But?

Did you intend
to assist the enemy?

If you obtained your release
upon condition that
you would broadcast...

I did not!

All we need to do is to
confirm your statement
to that effect.

I think Werner Plack
and the Lagerfuhrer,

unless they chose to lie,

would confirm that that
is the truth. It is the truth.

As would my fellow internees.

I partly made those broadcasts
to show the world

we were not giving in
to the Germans.

Mr Wodehouse,
Plack and his friends

are probably dodging
masonry in Berlin.

All we have is the evidence of
this man Mackintosh.

He has been arrested and is in
a military prison in Belgium.

Shall we continue
this tomorrow?

I am only concerned
to make sure that all the
evidence in this case

is made public.

So that my name
may be cleared.

I fully appreciate that.

Oh, by the way,
huge fan of Jeeves.

Thank you.

I've been reading
your stuff again. Marvellous.

"She had a laugh like
a troop of cavalry charging
over a tin bridge."

Marvellous.

You okay?

Cussen's a reasonable man.
It's going your way.

All we need to do is
to set out the true facts
before the public.

Then you can go back
to England and...

What are they after?

MonsieurWidenhorse?

The name is Wodehouse.

May I ask what
the charge is, Inspector?

[IN FRENCH ACCENT]
The charge is treason.

A charge of which
I suspect the entire

French bloody nation
might well be guilty.

The prefect of Paris
has ordered it.

You are not taking
my husband anywhere,
you disgusting little men!

Excuse me.

MAJOR MUGGERIDGE:
You will hear from the British
Government on this question.

Winston Churchill.
Heard of him?

I seem to remember he was
about the only person who

gave your bloody
General de Gaulle
a place to sleep in 1940.

Come back here at once!

This man is not a traitor!

You will hear from me!

Oh, fuck the French!

[PLATES BREAKING]

Je newill pas
get off the bloody line!

I do not move! I talk!

You loathsome little frog!

You bastards!

Major Malcolm Muggeridge.
British Intelligence Office.

I demand to know
why this British subject
has been detained.

In the name of
the British Government!

MAN: We keep Widenhorse.

You cannot keep
this man in prison.

There will be a diplomatic
incident. I am serious.

IsMonsieur Widenhorse well?

He's fine.

He does not look well to me.

I think if we have him
examined by a doctor
he would say

we should put him
in a hospital for a few days.

Perfect diplomatic compromise.

Talleyrand would have been
proud of you.

Please make sure
it is a nice hospital.

So long as I do not have
to talk to his wife again,

I am yours forever,Monsieur.

MAJOR MUGGERIDGE:
Merci. Au revoir.

[TYPEWRITER CLACKING]

[BABY CRYING]

[INDISTINCT TALKING]

MAJOR MUGGERIDGE:
How's the novel?

WODEHOUSE: Ah! Well,
it's seen me through the war.

All I need is a publisher.
That's all a novel needs.

You send it out into the world
like a young chap

going into
boarding school.

As soon as I've convinced
the public

I am not a raving fascist,
I'm sure all will go well.

What on earth is this place?

No, this is the only hospital
they could find.

A maternity ward.
Isn't it extraordinary?

I started the war
in a lunatic asylum.

I'm ending it
in a nursing home!
[CHUCKLES]

Well, we'll get you out.

Churchill did send
a note to them, apparently.

He's not your biggest fan,

but he doesn't want
to give you to the French.

Was it Waugh who called
him a second-rate
radio personality?

Or was it me?

I'll go back to London
for a few days.

Get some official letters.
Sort these blighters out.

I'll get in touch
with your stepdaughter.

Daughter.

Sorry, daughter.

I am sure Leonora has some
good political contacts.

She'll help us get the
Cussen report out there.

Perhaps I could bring you some
tobacco, food parcels.

We would love news of Leonora.

We haven't heard for ages.

We'll have dinner
when I come back.

[INDISTINCT]

Ah!

Cheer up, Malcolm.
We're buying.

If it wasn't for you,
I'd still be in that
blasted maternity home.

I'm glad you're out, anyway.

Did you manage
to track down Leonora?

I...

This is very hard to say.

I'm so fond of you both.

I'm afraid I discovered
that Leonora...

She went in for an operation.

DOCTOR: All well, Leonora?

Just fine. Fine.

MAJOR MUGGERIDGE:
A minor operation.

And I'm afraid she died
under the anaesthetic.

I thought she was immortal.

I'll leave you.

As soon as I know more about
Cussen's report,

I'll tell you.

I am so, so sorry.

[CRYING]

Why this? Why this
on top of everything else?

Is there a God?

Why could he let this happen?

I don't understand.

I just don't understand.

Thank you.

You all right?

I don't know, Malcolm.
I really don't know.

I suppose with all the awful
things that've happened...

I don't know.

I suppose I think they can't
do anything worse
to us than that.

No. Although...

Don't tell me. They have?

I tell you, Malcolm,

walking the plank might
come as a blessed relief,

after losing Leonora.

She would have sorted
all this out, you see.

She knew about politics
and all of that.

One of the reasons I adopted
her as my own was I just...

I loved her.

What have they decided?

Well... As we expected,

they've cleared
you of treachery.

[SIGHING]

Thank God for that!

I hope some of them
will apologise for all
the things they said.

Yes, this is
the difficult bit.

The government line is that
you will not be prosecuted.

And they have made
that public in answer to
a House of Commons question.

But...

I don't think they will ever
make the Cussen report public.

But... But, that is absurd.

That means everyone will think
Plum did something wrong,
even though he didn't.

He has been cleared.
Why can't we tell the world?

I did something foolish,
I suppose.

Oh, you're a complete idiot.

Everyone in the Western
world knows that.

It is the secret
of your success.

But you are not a traitor.

You haven't got the background
knowledge to be a traitor.

All you did was
make a few jokes.

I thought British people
were supposed to

keep their sense of humour
in times of crisis.

Or did that go out of
the window along with
everything else?

In war, truth is the
first casualty.

Who said that?

Stop being so bloody brave,
Plummie. I can't bear it.

WODEHOUSE: Did they say why?

It's to do with this
fellow Mackintosh.

I shouldn't be telling
you this.

Classified. But...

It seems they think he may
have been a collaborator.

Or he may have been one
of ours who was turned.

I have no idea.

He left England because
of some homosexual scandal

and turns up in Boulogne
just before the war started.

Who knows what he is?

He's told all sorts of
obvious lies,

about being mistaken
for someone called Mackenzie

who was known
to be pro-German.

But don't believe
Mr Mackintosh.

He was cosy enough
with the Nazis.

He spent the war translating
German marching songs

and a couple
of anti-Semitic books.

German marching songs, eh?
[SCOFFS] Well, I never.

Until they decide
what to do with him,

it appears the file will
remain top secret,

with his name blanked out.

Once again, I am so sorry.

I'm not forbidden to return
to England, I suppose.

I cannot see why
you should be.

You have to show them.

You have to let them
know you're not going
to lie down under this.

I think dignified silence
will be my policy.

My novels seem to be
all right over in America.

Shall we see
if they'll have us?

I am obviously not welcome
in the land of my birth.

You mustn't let them
browbeat you, Plummie!

I will do what I will do,
my darling.

My head is bloody,
but unbowed.

Can it get worse after what
happened to Leonora?

Of course it can.

Sunt lacrimae rerum
and all that.

If the classics have
taught me one thing,

it is that fate is always
waiting for you with
the stuffed eel-skin.

But you can't let them
see what life does to you.

That's the only way
to survive it. To shut up.

Which is what, after all this,
I propose to do.

There is a certain dignity
in silence.

[VOICE BREAKING] I do not wish
to speak about this any more.

You have been so kind to us.

And now, if you
will excuse me,

I will go back and write.

About creatures of the night
such as bats, cats
and Constable Potter.

Those of us who care will try
and set the record straight.

I know, Malcolm. Thank you.
You won't ever succeed now.

Not until we too
are dead, I suspect.

But thank you for even
thinking of trying.

MAJOR MUGGERIDGE:
America, here you come.

WODEHOUSE: Indeed.

But you will pay England
a visit, I hope.

Perhaps. I long and dread
to see it again.

My sort of England
has vanished.

It is as extinct as
the maiden aunt.

But we need it.

Maybe.

[ANNOUNCEMENT IN FRENCH
OVER PA]

Goodbye, dear boy.

To clear your name.

"Alea jacta est,"
as Caesar used to say.

When in a difficult mood...

Farewell.

Oh, England. What do you do
to those who love you?

[SIGHING]

[LA MERPLAYING]