All language subtitles for Withnail.and.I.1987.Remastered.1080p.BluRay.x264.DTS-SARTRE_ENG

I'm going for a cup of tea.
Do you want one?

- Do you want a cup of tea, Withnail?
- No.

13 million Londoners
have to wake up to this.

And murder and All-Bran and rape.

And I'm sitting in this bloody shack
and I can't cope with Withnail.

I must be out of my mind.

I must go home at once
and discuss his problems in depth.

I've some extremely distressing news.

I don't wanna hear it.
I don't wanna hear anything.

Oh, God! It's a nightmare.
I tell you, it's a nightmare.

We've just run out of wine.
What are we gonna do about it?

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

Oh, God. I don't feel good.

My thumbs have gone weird!

I'm in the middle of a bloody overdose.

Oh, God. Oh!

My heart's beating like a fucked clock.

I feel dreadful. I feel really dreadful.

So do I. So does everybody.

Look at my tongue.

It's wearing a yellow sock.

Sit down, for Christ's sakes.
What's the matter with you?

Eat some sugar.

Listen to this. "Curse of the Supermen.

"I took drugs to win medals,
says top athlete Jeff Wode."

- Where's the coffee?
- "In a world exclusive interview,

"33-year-old shot putter, Jeff Wode,
who weighs 317 pounds,

"admitted taking massive doses
of anabolic steroids,

"drugs banned in sport.

"'He used to get in bad tempers
and act daft,' says his wife,

"'He used to pick on me,
but now he's stopped.

"'He's much better in our sex life
and in our general life."'

Jesus Christ!

This huge thatched head
with its ear lobes and cannonball

is now considered sane.

"Jeff Wode is feeling better,

"and is now prepared
to step back into society

"and start tossing his orb about."

Look at him! Look at Jeff Wode.

His head must weigh 50 pounds on its own.

Imagine the size of his balls.

Imagine getting into a fight
with the fucker.

Please, I don't feel good.

That's what you'd say.

But that wouldn't wash with Jeff. No.

He'd like a bit of pleading.
Add spice to it.

In fact, he'd probably tell you
what he was gonna do

before he did it.

"I'm gonna pull your head off."

"No, please, don't pull my head off."

"I'm gonna pull your head off,
because I don't like your head."

Have you got soup?
Why didn't I get any soup?

Coffee.

Why don't you use a cup
like any other human being?

Why don't you wash up occasionally
like any other human being?

How dare you? How dare you?

How dare you call me inhumane?

I didn't call you inhumane.
You merely imagined it. Calm down.

Right, you fucker.
I'm gonna do the washing up.

No. No, you can't. It's impossible.

I swear to you, I've looked into it.
Listen to me. Listen to me!

There are things in there.
There's a teabag growing.

You haven't slept in 60 hours,
you're in no state to tackle it.

Wait till the morning.
We'll go in together.

This is the morning. Stand aside.

You don't understand. I think
there may be something living in there.

I think there may be something alive.

- What do you mean? A rat?
- It's possible. It's possible.

Then the fucker will rue the day.

Oh, Christ Almighty.

Sinew in nicotine base.

Keep back. Keep back.
The entire sink's gone rotten.

I don't know what's in here.

Ah! Ah!

I told you. You've been bitten!

Burnt! Burnt!
The fucking kettle's on fire!

- There's something floating up.
- Fork it!

No, no, no. I don't wanna touch it.

You must. You must!
The poop will bore through the glaze.

We'll never be able to use
the dinner service again.

Here, get it with the pliers.

No, no. No, no, no, gloves.
Get me the gloves.

That's right. Put on the gloves.

Don't attempt anything without the gloves.

- Ugh.
- Ugh.

What is it? What have you found?

Matter.

Matter? Where's it coming from?

Don't... don't look.

I'm dealing with it.

I think we've been in here too long.

I feel unusual.

I think we should go outside.

This is ridiculous.

Look at me. I'm 30 in a month
and I've got a sole flapping off my shoe.

It will get better. It has to.

Easy for you to say, lovey.
You've had an audition.

Why can't I have an audition?

It's ridiculous. I've been to drama school.
I'm good-looking.

I tell you, I've a fuck sight more talent
than half the rubbish that gets on television.

Why can't I get on television?

I don't know. It'll happen.

Will it? That's what you say.

The only programme I'm likely to get on
is the fucking news.

I tell you, I can't take much more of this.
I'm gonna crack.

- I'm in the same boat.
- Yeah, yeah.

I feel as sick as a pike.

I'm going to have to sit down.

You know what we should do?

I say, you know what we should do?

How can I possibly know
what we should do?

What should we do?

Get out of it for a while,

get into the countryside, rejuvenate.

Rejuvenate. I'm in a park
and I'm practically dead.

What good's the countryside?

What time is it?

It's eight.

Four hours to opening time.

God help us.

Have we got any embrocation?

- What for?
- To rub on us, you fool!

We can cover ourselves in Deep Heat
and get up against the radiator.

Keep ourselves alive till 12.

Jesus, look at that.

Apart from a raw potato,

that's the only solid to have
passed my lips in the last 60 hours.

I must be ill.

"Even a stopped clock
gives the right time twice a day.

"And for once, I am inclined
to believe that Withnail is right.

"We are indeed drifting
into the arena of the unwell,

"making an enemy of our own future.

"What we need is harmony.

"Fresh air, stuff like that."

Wasn't much in the tube.
There's nothing left for you.

Why don't you ask your father
for some money?

If we had some money we could go away.

Why don't you ask your father?

How can it be so cold in here?

It's like Greenland in here.

We've got to get some booze.

It's the only solution to this intense cold.

Something's got to be done.
We can't go on like this!

I'm a trained actor,
reduced to the status of a bum!

I mean, look at us.

Nothing that reasonable members
of society demand as their rights.

No fridges, no televisions, no phones.

Much more of this,
I'm going to apply for meals on wheels.

- What happened to your cigar commercial?
- That's what I want to know.

What happened to my cigar commercial?

What happened to my agent?
Bastard must have died.

September. It's a bad patch.

Rubbish! I haven't seen Gielgud
down the Labour Exchange.

Why doesn't he retire?

Oh, look at this little bastard.

"Boy lands plum role for top Italian director."
Of course he does!

Probably on a tenner a day,
and I know what for.

Two pound ten a tit and a fiver for his arse.

- Have you been at the controls?
- What are you talking about?

The thermostats.
What have you done to them?

- I haven't touched them.
- Then why has my head gone numb?

I must have some booze.
I demand to have some booze!

- I wouldn't drink that if I was you.
- Why not? Why not?

Because I don't advise it.

Even the wankers on the site
wouldn't drink that.

- That's worse than meths.
- Nonsense.

This is a far superior drink to meths.

The wankers don't drink it
because they can't afford it.

Have we got any more?

Liar. What's in your tool box?

Don't. We have nothing. Sit down.

Liar. You've got antifreeze.

You bloody fool.
You should never mix your drinks.

All right. This is the plan.
We'll get in there and get wrecked.

Then we'll eat a pork pie and we'll
drop a couple of Surmontil 50s each.

Means we'll miss out Monday,
but come up smiling Tuesday morning.

- What's that appalling smell?
- Perfume on my boots.

I had to scrub them with essence of petunia.

Two large gins. Two pints of cider.
Ice in the cider.

If my father was loaded,
I'd ask him for some money.

If your father was my father,
you wouldn't get it.

- Here you are, lads.
- Chin-chin.

Ugh.

What about what's his name?

- What about him?
- Why don't you give him a call?

- What for?
- Ask him about his house.

You want me to call what's his name
and ask him about his house?

Why not?

All right. What's his number?

I've no idea, I've never met him.

Well, neither have I.
Who the fuck are you talking about?

Your relative, with the house in the country.

- Monty? Uncle Monty?
- That's him. That's the one.

Get the Jag fixed up,
spend the week in the country.

All right. Give us a tenner
and I'll give him a bell.

Here, get a couple more in.

I'm going for a slash.

Ponce.

I could hardly piss straight with fear.

Here was a man with three-quarters of an inch
of brain who'd taken a dislike to me.

What have I done to offend him?

I don't consciously offend big men like this.

And this one has a definite
imbalance of hormone in him.

Get any more masculine than him,
you'd have to live up a tree.

"I fuck arses"? Who fucks arses?

Maybe he fucks arses.

Maybe he's written this
in some moment of drunken sincerity.

I'm in considerable danger in here.
I must get out of here at once.

Perfumed ponce!

You'll be pleased to hear
Monty's invited us for drinks.

Balls to Monty. We're getting out.

Balls to Monty?
I've just spent an hour flattering the bugger.

There's one over there that
doesn't like the perfume. A big one.

Don't look, don't look.

We're in danger. We've got to get out.

What are you talking about?

I've been called a ponce.

What fucker said that?

I called him a ponce.

And now I'm calling you one. Ponce!

Would you like a drink?

What's your name? MacFuck?

I have a heart condition.

I have a heart condition.
If you hit me, it's murder.

I'll murder the pair of youse.

My wife is having a baby.

Listen, I don't know what
my f... acquaintance did to upset you,

but it's nothing to do with me.

I suggest you both go outside
and discuss it sensibly in the street.

Aaah!

Out of my way!

Speed is like a dozen transatlantic flights
without ever getting off the plane.

Time change. You lose, you gain.

Makes no difference,
so long as you keep taking the pills.

But sooner or later, you've got to get out,
because it's crashing.

And all at once, those frozen hours

melt through the nervous system
and seep out the pores.

Bastards.

Just to suck some miserable cheap cigar,
and the bastards won't see me.

- Why are we having lunch in here?
- It's dinner, and Danny's here.

Danny? How did he get in?

I let him in this morning.
He's lost one of his clogs.

He's come in
because of this perpetual cold.

I hope tobacco sales plummet.

I got your saveloy.
Here. I don't want it.

Then stick it in the soap tray
and save it for later.

Don't vent spleen on me.
I'm in the same boat.

Stop saying that!
You're not in the same boat.

The only thing you're in
that I've been in is this fucking bath.

Danny's here.

Head hunter to his friends.

Head hunter to everybody.
He doesn't have any friends.

The only people he converses with
are his clients

and, occasionally, the police.

The purveyor of rare herbs
and proscribed chemicals is back.

Will we never be set free?

Danny.

You're looking very beautiful, man.
Have you been away?

St Peter preached the epistles
to the apostles looking like that.

Have you got any food?

Hm. As a matter of fact,
I've got a saveloy.

How much is it?

You can have it for nothing.

I see you're wearing a suit.

What's it got to do with you?

No need to get uptight, man.
I was merely making an observation.

I happened to be looking for a suit
for the Coalman two weeks ago.

For reasons I can't really discuss with you,

the Coalman had to go to Jamaica.

Got busted coming back through Heathrow.

Had a weight under his fez.

We worked out it would be handy karma
for him to get hold of a suit,

but he's a very low temperature spade,
the Coalman.

Goes into court in his kaftan and a bell.

This doesn't go down at all well.

They can handle the kaftan.
They can't handle the bell.

So there's this judge sitting there
in a cape like fucking Batman,

with this really rather far out looking hat...

- Wig.
- No, man.

This was more like a long white hat.

So he looks at the Coalman and he says,

"What's all this? This is a court, man.

"This ain't fancy dress."

And the Coalman looks at him and says,

"You think you look normal, Your Honour?"

Cunt gives him two years.

I'm afraid I can't offer
you gentlemen anything.

That's all right, Danny.
We decided to lay off for a bit.

That's what I thought.
Except for personal use, I concur with you.

As a matter of fact, I'm thinking of retiring
and going into business.

- Doing what?
- The toy industry.

- I thought you were in the bottle industry.
- No, man. That's a sideline.

You can have that.
Instructions are included.

Yeah, my partner's got a really good idea
for making dolls.

His name's Presuming Ed.

His sister gave him the idea.
She got a doll on Christmas what pisses itself.

- Really?
- Yeah.

Then you gotta change its drawers for it.

It's horrible, really,
but they like that, the little girls.

So we're gonna make one
that shits itself as well.

- Shits itself?
- He's an expert.

He's building the prototype now.

Why is he behaving so uptightly?

Because a gang of cheroot vendors

considered a haircut beyond
the limit of my abilities.

I don't advise a haircut, man.

All hairdressers are
in the employment of the government.

Hair are your aerials.

They pick up signals from the cosmos
and transmit them directly into the brain.

This is the reason
bald-headed men are uptight.

What absolute twaddle.

- Has he just been busted?
- No.

Then why is he wearing that old suit?

Old suit?

This suit was cut
by Hawkes of Savile Row.

Just because the best tailoring
you've ever seen

is above your fucking appendix,
doesn't mean anything.

Don't get uptight with me, man.

Cos if you do, I'll have
to give you a dose of medicine.

And if I spike you,
you'll know you've been spoken to.

You wouldn't spike me. You're too mean.

Besides, there's nothing invented
I couldn't take.

If I medicined you, you'd think
a brain tumour was a birthday present.

I could take double anything you could.

Very, very foolish words, man.

He's right, Withnail.
Look at him. His mechanism's gone.

He's had more drugs
than you've had hot dinners.

I'm not having this shag-sack insulting me.
Let him get his drugs out.

This doll is extremely dangerous.

It has voodoo qualities.

Trade - Phenodihydrochloride benzorex.

Street - the Embalmer.

Balls. I'll swallow it and run a mile.

Cool your boots, man.

This pill's valued at two quid.

- Two quid! You're out of your mind.
- That's sense, Withnail.

You can stuff it up your arse for nothing

and fuck off while you're doing it.

No need to insult me, man.

I was leaving anyway.

Have either of you got shoes?

Monty's car.

Well, hello.

Come in.

Sit down, do.

- Would you like a drink?
- Sherry.

Sherry.

- Sherry?
- Sherry.

Sherry.

Do you like vegetables?

I've always been fond of root crops,
but I only started to grow last summer.

I happen to think the cauliflower
more beautiful than the rose.

Chin-chin.

- Do you grow?
- Geraniums.

Oh, you little traitors.

I think the carrot infinitely more fascinating
than the geranium.

Mm. The carrot has mystery.

Flowers are essentially tarts.

- Prostitutes for the bees.
- Hm.

There is, you will agree,
a certain je ne sais quoi,

oh, so very special,
about a firm young carrot...

Hm. Excuse me.

Do help yourselves to another drink.

What's all this? The man's mad!

- Eccentric.
- Eccentric? He's insane.

Not only that, he's a raving homosexual.

You beastly little parasite!
How dare you?

You little thug. How dare you?

Ooh... Gah!

Beastly, ungrateful little swine.

- Shall I get you a drink, Monty?
- Yes, yes! Yes, please, dear boy.

You can prepare me
a small rhesus negative Bloody Mary.

And you must tell me all the news.

I haven't seen you since
you finished your last film.

Rather busy, Uncle. TV and stuff.

My agent's attempting to edge me towards
the Royal Shakespeare Company again.

- Oh, splendid.
- He's just had an audition for rep.

Oh, splendid. So you're a thesbian, too'?

Monty used to act.

Oh, I'd hardly say that.

It's true, I crept the boards in my youth,

but I never really had it in my blood.

And that's what's so essential, isn't it?
Theatrical zeal in the veins?

Alas, I have little more than vintage wine
and memories.

It is the most shattering experience
of a young man's life

when, one morning, he awakes
and, quite reasonably, says to himself,

"I will never play the Dane."

When that moment comes,

one's ambition ceases.

Don't you agree?

It's a part I intend to play, Uncle.

And you'll be marvellous.

Marvellous.

"It's gone.

"We do it wrong, being so majestical

"To offer it to the show of violence..."

Let's go. He's a madman.

Any minute now, he's gonna rush out
and get into his tights.

- OK, OK. Give me a minute.
- The house or out.

Could I have a word with you, Monty?

Oh, forgive me, dear boy, forgive me.

I was allowing memory
to have the better of me.

- Shall I get you a top-up, Monty?
- Oh, thank you.

Indeed, I remember my first agent.

Raymond Duck.

He was a dreadful little Israelite.

Four floors up on the Chafing Cross Road,

and never a job at the top of them.

I'm told you're a writer, too.

Do you write poems?

No, I wish I could. It's just thoughts, really.

- Are you published?
- Oh, no.

Where did you school?

He went to the other place, Monty.

Oh, he went to Eton.

Get that damned little swine out of here.

It's trying to get itself in with you.
It's trying for even more advantage.

It's obsessed with its gut.
It's like a bloody rugby ball now.

- It will die. It will die!
- Monty, Monty.

No, no, no, dear boy.
You must leave. You must leave.

Yet again, that oaf has destroyed my day.

Listen, Monty. Could I just have
a quick word with you in private?

Oh... very well.

- Good night, my dears.
- Good night, Monty.

What all this going off in private business?
Why did you tell him I went to Eton?

Because it wouldn't have helped if I hadn't.

I was trying to establish you
in some sort of context he'd understand.

What do you mean by that?

I mean, free to those that can afford it,
and very expensive to those that can't.

- Scrubbers!

- Up yours, Granddad!
- Scrubbers!

- Scrubbers!
- Shut up!

Little tarts. They love it.

Listen, I'm trying to drive this thing
as quietly as possible.

If you don't shut up,
we'll get stopped by the police.

Give me the bottle.

Look at that! Look at that!
"Accident black spot".

These aren't accidents, they're throwing
themselves into the road gladly!

Throwing themselves into this road
to escape all this hideousness.

Throw yourself into the road, darling.
You haven't got a chance.

At some point or another
I want to stop and get hold of a child.

What do you want a child for?

To tutor it in the ways of righteousness,

and procure some uncontaminated urine.

This is a device enabling the drunken driver
to operate in absolute safety.

You fill this with piss,
take this pipe down the trouser,

and sellotape this valve
to the end of the old chap.

Then you get horribly drunk
and they can't fucking touch you.

According to these instructions,
you refuse everything but a urine sample.

You undo your valve,

and give them a dose
of unadulterated child's piss.

And they have to give you your keys back.

Danny's a genius.

I'm gonna have a doze.

- Are we there?
- No, we're not, we're here.

And we're in the middle of a fucking gale.

You'll have to keep a lookout your side.
If you see anything, tell me.

And get hold of that map.

- Where's the whisky?
- What for?

I got a bastard behind the eyes.

I can't take aspirins without a drink.

- Where's the aspirins?
- Probably in the bathroom.

You mean we've come out here in the middle
of fucking nowhere without aspirins?

- Where are we?
- How should I know where we are?

I feel like a pig shat in my head.

Well, get hold of that map
and look for a place called Crow Crag.

There must and shall be aspirin.

Give me the key and get out of the way.

If I don't get aspirin, I shall die,
here, on this fucking mountainside.

Christ Almighty!

Monty?

What are you doing?

Sitting down to enjoy my holiday.

Right. Now, we're going
to have to approach this scientifically.

First thing we've got to do
is get this fire alight.

Then we split into two fact-finding groups.

I'll deal with the water and other plumbings.
You can check the fuel and wood situation.

- What's that?
- The fuel and wood situation.

There's nothing out there
except a hurricane.

- This place is uninhabitable.
- Give it a chance. It's got to warm up.

Warm up? We may as well
sit around a cigarette.

This is ridiculous.

We'll be found dead in here next spring.

I've got a blinding fucking headache.

I must have heat.

Problem is,
we've got to keep this bastard burning.

Well, we've got enough furniture for tonight.

Tomorrow we get down that farm
and get some logs.

This is all a mistake. I tell you.
This is a dreadful mistake.

- Who's there?
- Me.

- What do you want?
- I'm a friend of Montague Withnail's.

He's lent us his cottage.
I wondered if you could sell us some food.

- Eggs and things?
- Hm?

What about wood and coal?

I'm not from London, you know.

I don't care where you come from!

Not the attitude I'd been given to expect
from the HE Bates novel I'd read.

I thought they'd all be out the back,
drinking cider and discussing butter.

Clearly a myth.

Evidently, country people are no more
receptive to strangers than city dwellers.

Do you think you could tell me
where I could buy some coal and wood?

You'll have to see me son.
He runs this farm.

- Where is your son'?
- Up in top field.

You can't miss him.
His leg's bound in polythene.

Ah!

Withnail, you bastard. Wake up!

Oi! Wake up you bastard!
You gotta get wood.

Jesus, you're covered in shit.

I tried to get fuel and wood.

There's a miserable
little pensioner down there.

She wouldn't give it to me.

Well, where are we gonna get it, then?

There's a man on the mountain.

Why he's up there, fuck knows.

Ugh! But he's up there
with a leg bound in polythene.

You can't miss him. He's your man.

And have another look in that shed.
Find anything.

If you can't find anything,
bring in the shed.

How come Monty owns
such a horrible little shack?

- No idea.
- Never discuss your family, do you?

I fail to see my family
is of any interest to you.

I have absolutely no interest in yours.

I dislike relatives in general,
and my own in particular.

- Why?
- Because...

I've told you why. We're incompatible.

They don't like me being on stage.

Then they must be delighted
with your career.

- What do you mean?
- You rarely are.

You just wait. Just you wait.

When I strike,
they won't know what hit them.

There's a tractor approaching.

Get after him. That's the man.

- Hey, Stop!
- Stop!

Stop, please! Stop!

Stop, please! Please, stop!

Please, stop.

- Are you the farmer?
- Shut up. I'll deal with this.

We've gone on holiday by mistake.

We're in this cottage here.
Are you the farmer?

Stop saying that, Withnail.
Of course he's the fucking farmer!

We're friends of Montague Withnail.

We desperately need fuel and wood.

Montague Withnail.

You must know him.
Fat man, owns the cottage.

Ah, I seen a fat man.
London type. Queer sort.

I think his name's, er, French or summat.

- French?
- Aye, Adrien de la Touche.

But he ain't been here for a couple of years.

Last time I saw him he were...
he were with his son.

Yeah, that's him.

Listen, we're bona fide.
We're not from London.

Could we have some fuel and wood?

Aye, I could bring you some logs over later,
but I've got the cows and that to feed first.

- When?
- Shut up! That would be very kind of you.

Erm, what about food? Do you think
you could sell us something to eat?

I could bring you a chicken,
but you'll have to go to the village really.

- That would be very kind of you, Mr...
- Parkin.

Mr Parkin. What happened to your leg?

Got a randy bull up there.
Give me one in t'knee.

You wanna get out the back, don't you?
Get some spuds up?

Sorry, I can't. My boots are in the oven.

- You'd go if you had boots?
- Gladly.

Great! How much do we owe you?

Er, pay us when you come down.

- What about this chicken?
- It's on t'back.

Oi. Oi.

Parkin's been. There's the supper.

- What are we supposed to do with that?
- Eat it.

- Eat it? Fucker's alive!
- Yeah, I know that. You've got to kill it.

Me? I'm the fire lighter and fuel collector.

Yeah, I know that, but I got the logs in.

You know, it takes away your appetite, looking at it.

No it doesn't. I'm starving.

- How can we make it die?
- You've got to throttle them.

Listen, I think
you should strangle it instantly,

in case it starts trying
to make friends with us.

All right. Get hold of it.
You hold it down and I'll strangle it.

I can't. Those dreadful beady eyes,
they stare you out.

It's a bloody chicken.
Just think of it with bacon across its back.

All right. I'll deal with this.

You'll have to get its guts out.

Never point guns at people.
It's extremely dangerous.

What about this roasting dish?
What are we gonna cook it in?

You're the food and plumbings man.
I've no idea.

I wish I'd found this an hour ago.

I'd have taken great pleasure
in gunning this pullet down.

- Shouldn't it be more bald than that?
- No, it shouldn't.

Right. We're gonna have
to reverse the roles.

We can bake the potatoes in the oven.

And we can boil this bastard over the fire.

Let's get its feet off.

No, it's gonna need its feet.

It can stand with its legs either side of that.

I've already put two shilling pieces in.

No, I haven't got another.

Well, it's not my fault
if the system doesn't work.

Bitch hung up on me.

Hello? How are you?

Very well.

A What?

Why wouldn't they see me?

This is ridiculous.
I haven't been up for a job in three months.

Understudy Konstantin?
I'm not going to understudy Konstantin.

Why can't I play the part?

This is ridiculous.

No, I'm not in London. Penrith.

Penrith!

Well, what about TV?

Listen, I pay you ten per cent to do that.

Well, lick ten per cent
of the arses for me, then.

Hello? Hello? Hello?

Hello? How dare you? Fuck you!

Bastard asked me to understudy
Konstantin in The Seagull.

I'm not going to understudy anybody.

Specially that little pimp.

Anyway, I loathe those Russian plays.

Always full of women
staring out of windows,

whining about ducks going to Moscow.

- What do you think of Desmond Wolfe?
- In respect of what?

I'm thinking of changing my name.

It's too like Donald Wolf it.

Changeover point.

- Do you think he's happier than us?
- No.

I suppose happiness is relative.

But I never thought it would be
a polythene bag without a hole in it.

- Hey!
- What's the matter with him?

Shut that gate! Shut that gate!

You didn't shut the gate.

Stop that bull!

Stop that bull!

Grab its ring. Keep your bag up.

Out vibe it.

Hey! Show no fear.
Just run at it.

That can't be sensible, can it?
The bastard's about to run at me!

- Well, he's randy.
- Yes, yeah, I know he is!

He wants to get down there
and have sex with those cows.

Shut up, Withnail!

Run at it, shouting!

Do as he says. Start shouting.

It won't gore you.

A coward you are, Withnail.
An expert on bulls, you are not.

Aaaah.

Aaaah! Aaaah!

Aaaaaaah!

Shut that gate and keep it shut!

I think an evening at the Crow.

If the Crow and Crown ever had life,
it was dead now.

It was like walking into a lung.

A sulphur-stained, nicotine yellow
and fly-blown lung.

Its landlord was a retired alcoholic
with military pretensions

and a complexion
like the inside of a teapot.

By the time the doors opened,
he was arseholed on rum,

and got progressively more arseholed,

till he could take no more
and fell over about 12 o'clock.

We'll have another pair of large scotches.

Oof!

Thought I was going for a minute.

No man's put me down yet.

Have you had any training
in the martial arts?

Yes, as a matter of fact, I have.

Before I became a journalist,
I was in the Territorials.

Do you know? When you first came in here,

I knew you were a services man.

You can never, never disguise it.

- What were you in?
- Tanks.

Africa Corps. A little before your time.

Don't supposed you've engaged, have you?

Ireland.

Ooh, a crack at the Mick.

We'll have another pair of large scotches.

These shall be my pleasure.

What are you doing up here, then?

We're doing a feature for Country Life.
A survey of rural types.

You know, eh, farmers, travelling tinkers,
milkmen and that sort of thing.

Have you, er...

Have you met Jake?

Poacher. Works the lake.

But, eh, keep it under your hat, hm?

What's all this army bollocks?

We got a drink, didn't we?

Time, gentlemen.

I think he means it.

- Ask him if we can have one.
- What for?

So we can eat it. We're fed up with stew.

Excuse me. Could we have an eel?

- You've got eels down your leg.
- You leave them alone.

Nothing down there of interest to you.

Help us out, Raymond.

He's been fed from arsehole to beak.

What about one of those pheasants?

Go on. Ask him.

Excuse me. We were wondering
if we could purchase a pheasant off of you.

No. I've got nothing to sell.

Oh, come on, old boy.
What's in your hump?

Now look you,
them pheasants are for his pot.

These eels are for my pot.

What makes you think I should
give you something for your pot?

- What pot?
- Our cooking pot.

Ah. He knows.

Hey. Give us a wheeze on that fag.

I might come
and see you lads in the week.

I might fetch you up a rabbit.

We don't want a rabbit.
We want a pheasant.

Listen, you young prat,
I ain't got no pheasants.

Ain't got no birds, no more than you have.

Of course you have. You're the poacher.

If I hear more words out of you,

I'll put one of these here black pods on you.

- Don't threaten me with a dead fish.
- Half dead he may be.

But I'll come up after you
and I'll wake you up with a live one.

Sod your pheasants.
You'll have to find us first.

I know where you are.
You're at Crow Crag.

I've been watching you.
Especially you, prancing like a tit.

You want working on, boy.

If I see that silage heap
hanging about up here,

I'll take the bastard axe to him!

Bastards'.!

You'll all suffer!

I'll show the lot of you!

I'm gonna be a star!

Vegetables again?
We'll be sprouting bloody feelers soon.

Must be 20,000 sheep
out there on those volcanoes,

- and we've got a plateful of carrots.
- There's black puddings in it.

Black puddings are no good to us.

I want something's flesh.

Waah!

Look! Come here, look. Down here, look.

Under the rock. Look, I can see it.

Here, look.

See. Look. Here.
There's two of them here, look.

Come on, come on, come on.

I think I'll call myself Donald Twain.

Stop.

Get down.

It's him. What does he want?

We'd better get down there and ask him.

Don't be a fool. He's got a gun.
Bastard's psychotic.

You've only got to look at him.

This place has become impossible.

Perpetual rain. Freezing cold.

And now a bloody madman
on the prowl outside with eels.

All right. You've made your point.

We'll pack up and we'll get out tomorrow.

- What are you doing?
- I'm going for a slash.

No, you're not, you can't.
I can't get my boots on when they're hot.

- I'll go alone.
- No, you won't.

You're not leaving me in here alone.

Those are the kind of windows
faces look in at.

All right, then, I won't have a slash.

And in both our interests,
I think we should sleep together tonight.

Don't be ridiculous.
He's not going to come up here in the dark.

Of course he is. If he decides to come
up here and catches one of us unawares,

he's got a much better chance
of dealing with the other.

No.

What's the matter with you?
What are you laughing at?

- I was dreaming. What do you want?
- You frightened the piss out of me.

Move over, I'm getting in.

Ah, this is ridiculous.

- Ah, I'll have to sleep in your bed.
- I'll have to come with you, then.

- Oh, will you get out?
- No.

Right, then I Will.

All right. You can stay,
but the gun doesn't.

No. I have to keep the gun.
I intend to remain awake till morning.

No, this is my bed
and I demand precedence.

- No!
- Give me the gun! Give me...

Mad fucking bastard!

Get out. Fuck you. Fuck off!

Sh! Listen! Listen.

There is nothing! Get to bed.

I heard a noise.

I must get in.

Oh, for fuck's sake.

What was that?

- That's it! That's it!
- What is it?

It's the maniac.

- It's probably foxes looking for grub.
- Listen! Listen!

Maybe it's the farmer.

At two o'clock in the morning?

It's the killer. He's come to kill us.

What are we gonna do?

He wants to come in,
he's trying to get in.

He can't. He'll go away.

He's going away.

This is all your fault.
You've even given him the fucking gun.

He's coming through the window.
He's getting in.

- Gimme the matches.
- Downstairs.

He's in.

He's sharpening a fucking knife.

We'll have to tackle him.

You stay in bed and pretend to be asleep.

He'll go for you.
When he does, I'll jump on his back.

No, no, no, no, it'll be too late.
I'll be knifed by then.

We'll have to try
and make friends with him.

He's going into your room.
It's you he wants.

Offer him yourself.

We mean no harm!

Oh, my boys, my boys, forgive me.

Monty. Monty. Monty!

Monty, you terrible cunt!

Forgive me. It was inconsiderate
of me not to have telegrammed.

What are you doing, prowling around
in the middle of the fucking night?

Well, I had a punctured tyre.
I had to wait an aeon for assistance.

I... I'm sorry if I frightened you.
I should have knocked, but...

Oh, I'll... I'll sleep in the other room,
if I may.

Anywhere you like.

Eh, yes, well, erm... Er... good night.

- Ah, good morning. Sleep well?
- Hm.

Uh, oh, I... I do apologise for last night.
It was perfectly inconsiderate of me.

It's perfectly all right, Monty.
You've been busy in here.

Yeah, as a bee.

How did you repair the window?

Oh, I didn't break it. Merely forced it a little.

I'm sorry if I frightened you.

There was an empty wine bottle
on the ledge.

Uh, tomatoes. Yes.

Why don't you go and wake him?

Breakfast in 15 minutes.

The old order changeth,

yielding place to new.

And God fulfils himself in many ways.

And soon...

I suppose...

I shall be swept away
by some vulgar little tumour.

Oh, my boys, my boys,

we're at the end of an age.

We live in a land of weather forecasts
and breakfasts that "set in".

Shat on by Tories, shovelled up by Labour.

And here we are. We three.

Perhaps the last island of beauty
in the world.

Now, which of you
is going to be a splendid fellow

and go down to the Rolls
for the rest of the wine?

- I will!
- No, I'd better go.

I want to see about
digging the car out, anyway.

But we have my car, dear boy.

Yes, but if it rains, we're buggered.

- I mean...
- Stranded!

We'll leave the car till later.
Leave this to me.

Well, I'll come with you, then.
I fancy a walk.

No, no, no. I hear you're
a little wizard in the kitchen.

- I shall need you to work on the joint.
- Yeah, you're the cook.

Erm, what on earth are those?

- We forgot to bring our wellingtons.
- Oh, but how dreadful.

Do you mean you've been up here

in all this beastly mud and oomska
without wellingtons?

Well, this afternoon,
I shall take you both into Penrith

and get you fitted
with some good quality rubber boots.

Garlic, rosemary and salt.

I brought two of these in case either
of you was any good in the kitchen.

- I'm not.
- Oh, of course you are.

- Cooking's one of the natural instincts.
- Listen, Monty.

This is all very kind of you, but really,

I think I ought to be out there getting
some work done on the car.

Nonsense. You haven't time.
We're taking late luncheon at three.

- I'm afraid we have to leave by three, Monty.
- Leave?

Oh, didn't he tell you?
We have to get back to sign on.

Sign on? At a Labour Exchange?

Yeah. It's sort of fashionable, actually.

All the actors do it. Even Redgrave.

But surely you could forego
for just this one occasion?

I've come a very long way to see you both.

Can't actually, I mean, I'd love to stay.

But he's more adamant
to get back than I am.

Then we must choose our moment...

and have a word with him.

I'm sure together we could persuade him.

There, now.

Garlic, rosemary and salt.

I can never touch meat until it's cooked.

As a youth, I used to weep
in butchers' shops.

- I can't find the rosemary.
- Huh?

You can't find the rosemary?

I'm sure we could find it together.

- Perhaps it's in the other bag?
- Perhaps it is. Shall we look?

Oh, sorry. Sherry's in there.

What do you mean, sorry?
What's going on? What's he doing?

Listen, we can't stay.
He won't leave me alone.

All right. We'll get
the lunch done and then we'll leave.

I'm afraid we must drink from these.

I trust their shapes
will not offend your palates.

- Chin-chin.
- To a delightful weekend in the country.

I do think you could have shaved.

What on earth will people think
of me turning up with you two?

You look like a pair of farm-hands.

This is most embarrassing.

Get away from the car.

Buy the wellingtons.

I'm going to go and buy
some razors and shaving soap.

I'll see you over there in half an hour.

- Pair of blues.
- One each.

- I think a drink, don't you?
- What about the wellingtons?

Oh, bollocks to the wellingtons.

We'll tell him they had a farmer's conference
and had a run on them.

OK. Yeah. Promise. Bye.

Huh. Hasn't heard a thing.
Apparently, they're still seeing people.

You don't want to go to Manchester, anyway.

- Play a bloody soldier?
- Don't I? I damn well do.

It's a bloody good little theatre.

- That's not much of a part, though, is it?
- Well, it's better than nothing.

- They'd make you out your hair off.
- So what? You'd lose a leg.

Time, gents, please.

All right. We're going
to have to work quickly.

A pair of quadruple whiskys
and another pair of pints, please.

Where is he? I'm utterly arseholed.

We're early.

We wanna get in there, don't we?

Eat some cake, soak up the booze.

Ahh.

- All right here?
- What do you want?

Cake. All right here?

No, we're closing in a minute.

We're leaving in a minute.

We want cake and tea.

Didn't you hear? She said she'd closed.

What do you want in here?

Cake. What's it got to do with you?

I happen to be the proprietor.
Now, would you leave?

Ah, I'm glad you're the proprietor.

I was going to have to have a word
with you anyway.

We're working on a film up here.

Locations, see.

We might want to do a film in here.

- You're drunk.
- Just bring out the cakes.

Cake and fine wine.

If you don't leave, we'll call the police.

Balls! We want the finest wines
available to humanity.

We want them here, and we want them now!

Miss Blenehassitt, telephone the police.

Yes, all right, Miss Blenehassitt.

I'm warning you. If you do, you're fired.

We're multimillionaires.

We shall buy this place
and fire you immediately.

Yes, we'll buy this place.

And we'll install a fucking jukebox in here...

...to liven all you stiffs up a bit.

The police, Miss Blenehassitt.

Just say there are a couple of drunks
in the Penrith Tea Rooms

- and we want them removed.
- We are not drunks.

We are multimillionaires.

Hurry up, Mabs.
We'll keep them here till they arrive.

You won't keep us anywhere.

We'll buy this place
and have it knocked down.

- All right. It's all right.
- Police, please.

It's all right. We're going.

Our car's arrived.

We'll be back.

We're coming back in here.

- Where is he?
- He's sulking up the hill.

He says he won't come in for lunch
without an apology.

Suits me. He can eat his fucking radish.

It's all your fault.

You lead him astray.

- I beg your pardon, Monty?
- Oh, don't tell me you're not aware of it.

I know what you're up to and so do you.

- Sherry?
- Sherry? Oh, dear, no. No, no.

I'd be sucked into his trap.

One of us has got to stay on guard.

He's so mauve.
We don't know what he's planning.

I'm preparing myself to forgive you.

I think you've been punished enough.

I think we'd better release you
from the legumes

and transfer your talents to the meat.

You shouldn't treat each other so badly.

This boy's been out there,
frozen to the marrow,

and you just sit in here, drinking.

Now come along,
he's going to revitalise himself

and you're going to finish the vegetables.

- I don't know how to do them.
- Well, of course you don't.

You are incapable of indulging in anything
but pleasure, am I not right?

You don't deserve such loyalty.

Now come along. I'm going
to teach you how to peel a potato.

Isn't it stimulating, getting back
to a basic sort of life for a while?

- Yes.
- Surrounded by trees and nature,

one feels a glorious stirring of the senses.

A rejection of poisonous inhibition
and a fecund motion of the soul.

Except, of course, the problems tend
to take the edge off the pleasure.

I mean, with no proper facilities.

All the glorious trials of youth, dear boy.

When I was a lad, I'd rocket off
on my tandem with Wrigglesworth,

and we'd just ride and ride.

And at night, we'd find some barn
and fall asleep

with the perfumes of nature
sighing on our skin.

Would it be in bad form
to plagiarise a toast?

It depends entirely
on the quality of the wine.

In this instance,
it most certainly would not.

In that case,
to a delightful weekend in the country.

Oh, splendid.

We expected a volley of argument
concerning Mr Redgrave.

- You're forgetting about Jake.
- Not another word.

- Not another word. Jake can wait too.
- Jake isn't a friend, Monty.

I'd hoped to avoid telling you this,

but there's a psychotic on the prowl
outside this house.

Ask him if I exaggerate.
He's threatened us and he's dangerous.

Is this true?

Well, there's this local type hanging about.

A poacher. Got into a tiff
and he threatened me with a dead fish.

Yes, it was rather amusing, actually.

When you came in, we thought it was him.

And we thought that you,
cleaning your boots,

was him, sharpening his knife.

Oh!

Oh, how delicious.

More meat?

No, thank you. I'm going for a walk.

Oh, wait for us to finish, dear boy,
and we'll all go.

Listen, I know what you're thinking,
but I had no alternative.

The old bugger's come a long way,
and I didn't want to put the wind up him.

Your sensitivity overwhelms me.

If you think you're gonna have a weekend's
indulgence up here at his expense,

which means him having a weekend's
indulgence up here at my expense,

- you've got another think coming.
- I give you my word.

- We'll leave first thing tomorrow morning.
- Tomorrow? What about tonight?

- He's not going to try anything.
- Of course he is!

Why do you think he's here?
He means business.

Anyway, he sent me out
to tell you that the coffee's ready.

I couldn't drink it. I've got a cramp
in the mouth from grinning.

- Well, stop smiling at him.
- I can't help it.

I'm so uptight with him, I can't stop myself.

Laissez-moi respirer

Longtemps, longtemps
I'odeur de tes cheveux

Ah, Baudelaire.

Brings back such memories of Oxford.

Oh, Oxford.

Followed by yet another anecdote
about his sensitive crimes

in a punt with a chap called Norman,

who had red hair and a book of poetry
stained with the butter drips from crumpets.

I often wonder where Norman is now.

Probably wintering
with his mother in Guildford.

A cat and the rain.

Vim under the sink and both bars on.

But old, now. Old.

There can be no true beauty without decay.

Elegium pro Britannia.

How right you are. How right you are.

We live in a kingdom of rains,

where royalty comes in gangs.

Come on, lads, let's get home.
The sky's beginning to bruise.

Night must fall,
and we shall be forced to camp.

He's having my room, all right?
That's the condition, all right?

- All right.
- I want the room with the lock.

- Agree to that or I'm off.
- All right. All right.

Oh, good ol' Jake, eh? I told you.

He's back, and that is precisely
the reason I'm off to London.

Let's all have a good laugh, eh, Withnail?

Good old Jake, eh? He's back!

- He's going away. He's leaving.
- Come on, let's pack up.

We'll get out of here before it gets dark.

"Here hare here."

Here hare here.

Good old Jake.

Ace bets. Ace bets two.
And it's over to you.

- Your two and up two.
- Mm.

- So that's four.
- That's four.

Four.

Aces will pay for the raise
and see the two.

Now, last card.

Nonne solus videtur.

Reginae suendae defit.

And, oh!

And there she is!

Oh! A possible flush.

Oh, Well...

Well, it's the two queens to bet.

Another hand?

I think we'd better get him to bed.

No, no. He's down here.

You're in my room, I'm in his room
and he's down here.

No, no, I wouldn't dream of depriving
the dear fellow of his bed,

- especially in that condition.
- But it's agreed. It's what he wants.

No, I don't. I want to get to bed.

All right, then, lovey. Let's get you to bed.

In bed by midnight, it'll do us both good.

Night, night, then, Monty.

I want to be alone.
I want to be alone.

I want to be alone.

I think he'd better sleep alone tonight.

He doesn't want to sleep with you.

Right.

Well, you're in there.

And I'll take these
and I'll... I'll have the couch.

I'll say goodnight, then, Monty.

You already have.

Twice.

What is it, Monty? I'm terribly tired.
I need to go to sleep.

But not that tired, eh?

Are you a sponge or a stone?

What do you mean?

Do you like to experience all facets of life,

or do you shut yourself off
from new experience?

- I voted Conservative.
- Are you faithful?

- To whom?
- Faithfulness isn't selective.

No, I quite agree. It's more a question
of selecting to whom one will be faithful.

Have you selected?

I'm terribly tired.

I've been watching you all evening.

You've been avoiding my eyes, haven't you?

- Your eyes?
- Mm.

At luncheon, you couldn't
tear your gaze from mine.

This evening, you barely looked at me.

What did he say to you?

- Nothing.
- You can tell me.

I assure you, nothing, Monty.

I'm terribly tired. I need to go to bed.

Yes. You must, mustn't you?

Off you go then. I'll sleep here.

It won't be the first time
I've been left with the couch.

Boy.

Boy.

I know you're not asleep, boy.

But he 'vs.

I've been into his room.

He won't hear a thing.

I know you're not asleep, boy.

No, I'm not.

What is it, Monty? What do you want?

I had to come. I tried not to.

Oh, how I tried not to.

Listen, Monty, there's something
I have to explain to you.

You needn't explain.
He's told me everything.

He told me that first day
you came to Chelsea.

What... what's he told you?

He told me about your arrest
in the Tottenham Court Road.

He told me about your problems.

How you feel. Your desires.

Problems? What problems?

- You are a toilet trader.
- He told you that?

You mustn't blame him.
You mustn't blame yourself.

I know how you feel and how difficult it is.

And that's why you mustn't hold back
and let it ruin your youth

as I nearly did over Eric.

It's like a tide. Give in to it, boy.

Go with it. It's society's crime, not ours.

- I'm not homosexual, Monty.
- Yes, you are. Of course you are.

You're simply blackmailing your emotions

to avoid the realities
of your relationship with him.

- What are you talking about?
- You love him.

And it isn't his fault he cannot love you

any more than it's mine that I adore you.

Couldn't we allow ourselves just
this one moment of indiscretion?

- No!
- He need never know.

I don't care what he knows.
Monty, you've got to go. You've got to leave.

If you want to humiliate me,
humiliate me. I adore you.

Tell him if you must. I no longer care.

I mean to have you,
even if it must be burglary.

It's not me, it's him.

He lied to you. We're an affair.
We have been for years.

But he doesn't want you to know,
he doesn't want anybody to know.

We're both in it. We're...
We're obsessed with each other.

But he's ashamed, he refuses
to come out and accept what he is.

That's why he's rejecting me
while you're here.

On my life, Monty, this is the first night

we haven't slept together for six years.

I can't cheat on him. It would kill him.

But he told me you were in purgatory
because he couldn't love you.

He's lying, lying!

Oh, my dear boy.

If I had known that, I would never have
attempted to come between you.

I know that, Monty.
I respect you for your sensitivity.

I thank you for it. But you must leave.

Yes.

Yes. You'd better go to him.

Oh, I intend to. This instant.

Withnail, you bastard, wake up.

Wake up, you bastard.
Or I'll burn this bastard bed down.

- I deny all accusations.

What do you want?

I've just narrowly avoided
having a buggering,

and I've come in here with
the express intention of wishing one on you.

Having said that,
I now intend to leave for London.

Hold on. Don't let your imagination
run away with you.

Imagination!
I just finished fighting a naked man.

How dare you tell him I'm a toilet trader?

It was a tactical necessity.
If I hadn't told him you were active,

we'd never have got the cottage.

I'd never have wanted it. Not with him in it.

I never thought he'd come all this way.

- Monty? He'd go to New York.
- It was a calculated risk.

What is all this "tactical necessity"
and "calculated risk"?

This is me, naked, in a corner.

And how dare you tell him I love you?

And how dare you tell him you rejected me?

- How dare you tell him that?
- Sorry about that.

I got a bit carried away.
I sort of said it without thinking.

Well, let me tell you something, Withnail.
If he comes into my room again, it's murder.

And you will be held responsible in law.

"Perhaps it is appropriate justice
for the eavesdropper

"that he should leave as his
trade determines,

"in secrecy,

"and in the dead of night.

"I do sincerely hope
that you will find the happiness

"which, alas,
has always been denied to me.

"I am yours ever faithfully,

"Montague H Withnail."

Poor old bastard.

I would say...

that that represents a degree of hypocrisy
I have hitherto suspected in you,

but not noticed,
due to your highly evasive skills.

Christ, Withnail.

You'll suffer for this.
What you have done will have to be paid for.

I'll say one thing for Monty,

he keeps a sensational cellar.

- Who's there?
- Telegram.

Well done.

Well, it doesn't mean to say I've got it.

They... they probably
just want to see me again.

Well, that settles it then.
We leave immediately.

What?

Get your kit together.
We're leaving in half an hour.

Half an hour? Don't be ridiculous.
I need at least an hour for lunch.

You've got a truck coming up.
About 200 yards.

Followed by a left slow-hander.

Oh, this is insanity, I can't keep this up.

Stay in this lane. Bear right. Bear right.

Lane? What lane?
I've not seen a fucking lane.

Bear right! Bear right! Bear right!

Right, that's it.

Next garage, I've got to do
something about that wiper.

And I've got to get some sleep.

- What's going on?
- I'm making time.

Are you out of your mind?

Pull over. You haven't got a license.

No. I'm making time.

- Where are we?
- We're approaching London.

- Here comes another fucker.

- Oh, no.

It's perfectly all right. Leave them to me.

You're full of scotch, you silly tool.

A bit early in the morning
for festivities, isn't it?

These aren't mine. They belong to him.

- You're drunk.
- I assure you I'm not, officer.

Honestly. I've only had a few ales.

Out of the car.

Please?

Sir?

I want you to take one deep breath
and fill this bag.

- Are you refusing to fill this bag?
- I most certainly am.

- I'm placing you under arrest.
- Don't be ridiculous.

- I haven't done anything.
- Come on.

Look here, my cousin's a QC.

GET-IN-THE-BACK-OF-THE-VAN!

Look, sarge. What's that clown doing?

- Where's our cheques?
- We didn't sign on.

That wouldn't make any difference
to last week's payment.

What are you doing in my bed?

- I've been asleep.
- Who is the huge spade in the bath?

Presuming Ed.

Now you've got ten minutes, right?
I want you out, cos I wanna get in.

Ten minutes, right,
you'd better be on your feet.

How did you get in?

Ingenuity, man. Come up the drainpipe.

- Would you like a smoke?
- Yes.

No, thanks, I've got a call to make.

What are you going to do with those?

The joint I'm about to roll
requires a craftsman.

It can utilise up to 12 skins.

It is called the Camberwell Carrot.

It's impossible
to use 12 papers on one joint.

It's impossible to make
a Camberwell Carrot with anything less.

Who says it's a Camberwell Carrot?

I do. I invented it in Camberwell
and it looks like a carrot.

Do you realise this gaff's
overrun with rodents?

When I come in, I seen one
the size of a fucking dog.

No, that is a dog,
belongs to the fellow downstairs.

Does his dog get in the oven?

- No, his dog doesn't come up here.
- Then it was a rodent.

Opened the oven door
and it was in there looking at me.

Quite freaked me at the time.

I was gonna cook onions.

- Are you going to bed now?
- No. Phone.

- Who's he gone to telephone?
- Squat Betty.

His agent. But he's wasting his time
because he won't be in.

This'll tend to make you very high.

This grass is the most powerful
in the western hemisphere.

I have it specially flown in
from my man in Mexico.

He's an expert.

His name is Juan.

This grass grows
at exactly 2,000 feet above sea level.

Did you get the part, man?

I got a different one.

They want me to play the lead.

Congratulations.

Where exactly have you two been?

- Holiday in the countryside.
- That's a very good idea.

London is a country
coming down from its trip.

We are 91 days
from the end of this decade,

and there's gonna be a lot of refugees.

They'll be going round this town
shouting "Bring out your dead!"

There was a geezer round here
the other day looking for you.

- What geezer?
- Some bald geezer.

Reckons you owe him 266 quid back rent.

I told him there's no question
of paying rent on a property cut with rodents.

He takes exception to this,

and starts coming on really bald with me.

You mean ratty?

I told him to piss off.

Bloody fool. He'll have us up in court again.

- No, he won't. It ain't legal.
- I assume we can quote you, can we?

Law rather appeals to me, actually.

Just high.

Stop laughing, Withnail, this is serious.

No it ain't. I looked into it.
Studied the papers.

- What papers?
- Legal papers.

What papers, Danny?

Oh, oh!

He's got our cheques.

- What are you doing with these?
- I was gonna cash them in for you.

Hare Rama.Hare Rama.

Hare Rama, Hare Rama.

For Christ's sake, Withnail. Stop laughing.

- This is a notice of eviction.
- Hare Rama, Hare Rama.

Rama Rama. Rama Rama.

Will you stop laughing?
They want to turn us out.

- Hare Rama.
- For God's...

Will you shut up, for God's sake?
You're giving me the fear.

Gimme a downer, Danny. My brain's capsizing.
I've gone and fucked my brain.

Change down, man.
Find your neutral space.

You got a rush.

It will pass. Be seated.

Aren't you getting absurdly high?

Precisely the reason I'm smoking it.

I couldn't. I'm spaced.

Not as spaced as your rodents.

Don't talk about them.

Well, I imagine they're talking to each other.

- What do you mean?
- I dealt with them.

Dealt with them?
What the fuck do you mean?

Dosed them.
I expect they're dead down the drain.

Dead down the drain?
What have you done to them?

Given them all drugged onions.

Jesus Christ!
Why have you drugged their onions?

Sit down, man. Take control.

Oh, give me a Valium.
I'm getting the fear.

You have done something to your brain.

You have made it high.

If I lay ten mils of diazepam on you,
you will do something else to your brain.

You will make it low.
Why trust one drug and not the other?

That's politics, innit?

I'm gonna eat some sugar.

I recommend you smoke some more grass.

No way. No fucking way.

That is an unfortunate political decision,

reflecting these times.

What are you talking about, Danny?

Politics, man. If you're hanging
onto a rising balloon,

you're presented with a difficult decision.

Let go before it's too late?

Or hang on and keep getting higher?

Posing the question,
how long can you keep a grip on the rope?

They're selling hippie wigs
in Woolworths, man.

The greatest decade
in the history of mankind is over.

And as Presuming Ed here
has so consistently pointed out,

we have failed to paint it black.

My dad will pick up the boxes in the week.

And he's gonna
do something about the car.

- Well, I'm off now, then.
- Already? But I've got us a bottle open.

I confiscated it from Monty's supplies.

'53 Margaux, best of the century.

I'm sure he wouldn't resent us
a parting drink.

I can't, Withnail.
I've got to walk to the station. I'll be late.

- There's always time for a drink.
- No. I don't have the time.

All right. I'll walk with you through the park.

We can drink it on the way.

No, no more, thank you.

Listen, Withnail. It's a stinker,
why don't you go back?

- Because I wanna walk you to the station.
- Well, don't. Please don't.

I really don't want you to.

I shall miss you, Withnail.

I shall miss you, too.

Chin-chin.

"I have of late - but wherefore I know not -

"lost all my mirth.

"And indeed, it goes so heavily
with my disposition

"that this goodly frame, the earth,

"seems to me a sterile promontory.

"It's the most excellent canopy, the air.

"Look you, this brave
o'erhanging firmament,

"this majestical roof fretted with golden fire,

"why, it appeareth nothing to me

"but a foul and pestilent
congregation of vapours.

"What a piece of work is a man!

"How noble in reason!

"How infinite in faculties!

"How like an angel in apprehension!

"How like a God!

"The beauty of the world!

"The paragon of animals!

"And yet, to me,

"what is this quintessence of dust?

"Man delights not me,

"no, nor women neither.

"Nor women neither."