All language subtitles for A.Private.Function.1984.720p.en

A Private Function (1984)
English subtitles, non-HI

The royal wedding.

An austerity Britain
gets a longed-for whiff of glamour

…as preparations get into full swing.

Mind the step, Mother.

- You didn't say there was a step.
- I did.

For one happy young couple,
1947 will be a year to remember.

The official wedding cake,
seen here on display…

…depicts incidents
from the lives of the royal couple.

Australian Girl Guides
provided the ingredients.

Grim faces at Downing Street this week…

…when, as the fuel crisis continues…

…the government announces
a further cut in the bacon ration.

Your weekly bacon ration
used to look like this.

Now it's going to look like this.

Another blow
to the long-suffering British housewife.

This is one person's rations for a week.

Hardly the fat of the land, but at least
in England it's fair shares for all.

In France, with no food in the shops,
the black market flourishes.

This pretty little mademoiselle
seems to be going for a bike ride.

But why the attaché case?
Careful now, mustn't spoil those nylons!

Plenty of bacon here for somebody.
This is where the attaché case comes in!

Mademoiselle gets her bacon
on the black market.

That's right, cover it up. We don't
want to know. It's a rotten business!

In France, at any rate, money talks.

Go on now, Mother. Sit on your seat.

- Where?
- Go on! I'm coming up.

Oh, Mother!

Again, Veronica.

Da capo. [from the top]

Mother, are you eating?

Hoar, Appleyard, Long, Coddington, Jezzard,
Ibbotson… Starkey, Mrs R Jack Palmer.

You're younger than I'd been led to expect.
However…

Mrs Lockwood says she's a new woman.

Have you a newspaper, Mrs Allardyce?
This is a good carpet.

Wholesale from Halifax. Of course it is.

- Paper, Henry.
- It's today's!

And?

- Dickinson.
- Dickinson.

Just get this support for your calf.

There.

My other little man died.

He used to say
that a foot told him more than a face.

Well, you've got quite a lot of hard skin.
And this is a chilblain.

Are you on your feet a great deal?

My husband's an accountant.
It's one function after another.

Brierley.

It wants to be a bit select, Henry.
Their daughter was a GI bride.

Only just. Six months pregnant
when I examined her.

She was a Sunday school teacher.

The state of her private parts
told a different story.

Henry, this is royalty.
It's a pure and unspoiled couple.

Goldman?

- Not on my list.
- They're very well off.

Quite apart from anything else, Henry,
think of what we shall be having to eat.

Oh.

- Not now, Veronica!
- She's got to practice sometime!

Nylons. Henry gets them. Grateful client.

Bad for the feet.

Good for the morale.

I think we've let some toenail go
on the carpet.

Yes, beg pardon. It's a bit hand-to-mouth.

I'll have my own surgery soon.
I've got premises on the parade.

Oh, the parade.

And you're married
to Veronica's piano teacher.

Yes, that's right.

You don't wear a ring.

No, I find that tiny bits of skin and scurf
from people's feet tend to collect under it.

Still a long way to go with those invites.

Have we anything tasty
we could give Dr Swaby for his supper?

You know what he's like.

Ah!

Steak?

Are you not eating that?

They're marzipan. You don't like marzipan.

I hate Mrs Chilvers!

No, you don't! This is Mr Chilvers.

- Children! You don't have any?
- No.

Very wise.

Hello… Hello?

Thank you.

Heartbreaking these days, butchering.

Meat rations at one-and-tenpence.
What you can do with that?

Stomach's on a knife edge.
And he's the only one who's straight.

There's two other butchers,
and they're both on the twist.

He comes in at night, sits at that table,
and his face is gray.

You've got some nice thick hair.

Gestapo!

Blood and sand!

Not down here, you fool! Get it upstairs!

You! Open this door!

- I can't, I'm a chiropodist.
- This is the police. Open the door.

It's a funny lock.

Is there somebody at the door?

One moment.

- Upstairs.
- We live upstairs. The shop is here.

Excuse me, this is my house.

- I'm on the toilet!
- I can wait.

- What happened to the telephone?
- He's a law unto himself.

Father.

Don't get him excited.
He has trouble with his waterworks.

- It's not there.
- Come out.

Dear oh dear…

Put a bit of something under that.

Grease'll go all over your uniform.
Your mam will play pop.

- Mrs Metcalf.
- What?

- Are you wanting that banana?
- I am, love. I'm planning a trifle.

- Your mom feels cold, Dorcas.
- It's not surprising. She died in 1937.

Can you manage that?

Upsy!

Downstairs!

Pork. In bed.

They need horsewhipping.

We never saw any of it.
When did we last have pork?

And it wasn't clean.
I've seen a cat on that counter.

What d'you think?

I suppose I've now got to start looking
for another butcher.

Wash it, it's probably filthy.

What was this meeting about?

It's a dinner they're getting up
for the royal wedding.

- No need to ask if we were invited.
- It's a private function.

Anyway, we don't want to be going to dinners.
What do we want to be going to dinners for?

To meet people that's what for.
How else are you going to get on?

It's dripping, Gilbert, it's dripping.

- Have I had my tea?
- Eat some of your nougat, love.

- She had my sandwiches again today.
- She, Gilbert? She, as you call her…

…knitted you a lovely balaclava helmet,
but we don't talk about that!

It doesn't have an opening for my mouth.

You don't give me my proper rations.
He has my rations.

- They're having steak for their supper.
- Steak?

He's going to paint the pork.

We can do that, Mr Wormold.
You've done enough for one day.

No, this is the part that I enjoy.
"Unfit for human consumption."

- Why?
- Who killed it? And where?

I used to like painting
when I was a youngster.

My mother always wanted me to be an artist.

- What a waste!
- Ah, no.

No, I'd never have been any good.

Another day. Nothing from Kuala Lumpur.

Mrs Forbes, your information was correct.

You'll be happy to know an arrest was made,
and charges are being preferred.

- I'm waiting.
- He's just this minute gone.

- Oh dear, oh dear… No, no, no…
- No, no, no.

- I told you: I want it prior to painting.
- You don't know what he's like. He's a demon.

- It's dog meat, is this!
- Dog meat, is that.

- We did try.
- We did.

Oh, blood and sand!

- Dog meat, is that.
- Dog meat be buggered.

Bath.

Bleach.

Brushes. Get scrubbing!

Saw another verruca today.

Gone the wrong way again.
They will hack at them with razor blades.

Don't bring feet to the table,
please, Gilbert.

You have to wait 'til they come to a head.
Then they're a piece of cake.

Still, Mrs Roach's ingrown toenail
seems to have turned the corner.

Thanked me profusely. Gave me a macaroon.

A macaroon? A macaroon!

- We are better than this, Gilbert.
- Better than what?

Are you not eating your Spam?

Listen, Joyce, once I'm in the new premises
on the parade, it'll be different.

They'll be rolling up in their cars,
we'll be going to functions, having steak.

It's not just steak, Gilbert. It's status!

- How's your steak?
- Just right.

!!!

More sprouts, Dr Swaby?

Poor Mr Metcalf.
I didn't think he'd go to prison.

You didn't tell me he'd go to prison.

I don't care who goes to prison,
so long as it keeps Wormold off my back.

There's no fun in this for me, Douglas.
It's all one-sided.

- Doris, you've got a magnificent bum.
- I don't like that word.

- Bottom, then.
- That, either.

Well, what?

There isn't a word I do like.

My husband never felt the need
to refer to it.

No news?

Currants, British Guiana.

Dessicated coconut, Ceylon.

What's this?

The Empire.
Who sent what for the wedding cake.

Look, Doris. Cheek to cheek to cheek.

Oh, you are common, Douglas!
Why can't you just get on with it?

Wish I had this on my slicer.
Could sell it 15 times over.

Be sharp. I've Mr Wormold's dinner to get.

Doris, when you see him,
just drop a hint about Barraclough.

- I'm fed up doing your dirty work, Douglas!
- Go on!

Is that green?

Yes, that's spinach. You had spinach.

- So I did.
- Did you enjoy it?

I don't enjoy food, Mrs Forbes.
I have no sense of taste, no sense of smell.

I had German measles as a child.

A little more, Mr Wormold?

There is no more, Mrs Forbes.
I have eaten my ration.

We're only human, Mr Wormold.

My experience has been, Mrs Forbes,
that when people say they're only human…

…it is because
they have been making beasts of themselves.

Do you make a beast of yourself, Mrs Forbes?

My husband's missing in Malay, Mr Wormold.
I live the life of a widow.

- I hope so, Mrs Forbes. I hope so.
- I'll get your sweet.

Yes, Mrs Forbes?

I was talking to a woman
who gets her meat from Mr Barraclough.

She says she gets some lovely stuff,
only…

Only what, Mrs Forbes?

She's not always sure she's not eating
something that's run in the 2-30.

Know what I mean?

I want this out of the house.
Keep it somewhere else!

- Why?
- He trusts me.

You'll enjoy that. Come again.
Next, please.

They shaved women's heads for this
in France.

Right, that's it! Cease trading!
Will you all kindly leave the premises?

- Why?
- Horse, madam, horse!

- I don't mind!
- Out. Everybody out!

Now touch that, madam,
and you are an accessory!

- She's 74. Horse?
- Out. Thank you very much.

Gangway… Gangway!

We're hungry!

- It is horsemeat!
- They eat it in Belgium.

We're not in Belgium!
They ate rats in Stalingrad.

It's now a question of horse.

These used to be ordinary decent people!

Come on, ladies. Out, please.
Make way for the inspector.

Should the telephone ring, Dorothy,
I am seeing a client.

On second thoughts.

- Mr Chivers.
- Uh, "Chilvers".

- Think I've got it in the right place?
- Oh, yes. Oh, yes. Best place in town.

Sad about Metcalf.

You'll be the only butcher left soon.

We're all going to have to watch our step.

Uh, Mr Lockwood.

Morning, Mr Lockwood.

- Is my lease ready to sign?
- In due course.

- No difficulty is there?
- Yes, time. It's in short supply.

No, I think you are doing the right thing.

I'll send somebody 'round for her tomorrow.
Tell her she's going to Bridlington.

The grounds are immaculate.
She'll be very happy.

Doctor! …Dr Swaby!

Look out!

- Oh, my parcel. Thank you.
- Oh sorry, Dr Swaby, it's you.

- Are we doing wrong, Frank?
- Of course we're doing wrong. It's a crime.

I've never committed a crime before.

I thought you were an accountant.

I fetched her another ginger nut.
Last week's went down so well.

Ready?

I had a little contretemps
with that new chiropodist.

Why we need chiropodists, I don't know.

Something wrong with their feet,
people can come to me.

They'd always find a sympathetic hearing.

We've come to see our friend.

You want to watch it coming here together.
It's me who'll cop it!

Nonsense, Sutcliff!
I've come to examine your good lady.

I'm here do draw up your will.

What are you here for?

How d'you mean?

- What about the paper?
- She eats paper.

- She'd eat you.
- Nooo.

Betty! Where's my Betty?

There's my Betty. Hello, my little friend.
Yes, it's your uncle, Henry.

Not much fatter,
and it's a bit since we've been.

She's put on a couple of stone,
only she's gone lame.

Lame? Oh dear! Oh Betty!

- What's she doing, going lame?
- I don't know.

Well, you should know,
the money we pay you. Get a vet!

Get a vet? You must be barmy!
That's an unlicensed pig!

Square him, Sutcliff.
We pay you enough. Lame!

Look, Betty. Just for your poorly foot,
I've got you something.

Ginger nut! Yes, we like ginger nut!

Yes, there we are! She likes those,
doesn't she? That's good, isn't it?

I shall miss her, you know,
when it comes to the point.

Well, it's coming to the point.

I see he's opening his surgery.

You don't call a flyblown room
where you cut toenails a surgery!

- Where?
- On the parade. Frank rented him it.

- This is a stab in the back.
- Well, I had it empty, Charles.

Women's feet. Good God, man!

- Taking the bread out of my mouth.
- I didn't think.

You're going to have to think.
Think of a way of getting him out.

- Why?
- I don't like him!

Who's this?

A foot fellow.

Go fetch that lame bugger.

Touch of tinea pedis here.

Athlete's foot.

- Do women get that?
- It's nothing to worry about.

I hear you were there
when the Gestapo arrived.

- "Gestapo", Mrs Sutcliff?
- Wormold. - Oh!

- I'm sorry. Made me jump.
- You made him jump, you great puzzuck!

Have you got a moment?

He's not done me yet, Bern!
Bernard!

Bloody hell!

There's the culprit. Look.

- That must have hurt you, pig.
- Bernard!

Bernard, it's Wormold.

- I think you've trod in something.
- Sod it!

Sometimes, I wonder
what the last war was for.

The people.
That was what it was for, Mr Sutcliff.

Fair shares for all.

Sty specifications, swill schedule,
slaughtering certificates.

You find one wrong pig on this farm,
I'll give you a 100 pound.

If I do, it'll cost you more than that.

I've seen you before.

- How d'you do?
- Yes, you were there the other evening.

- You get about.
- I do people's feet.

Maybe you ought to have a look
at my feet sometime. Can you fit me in?

On we go. No rest for the wicked.

Hey! Is that skin?
Put it in pig bucket. Delicacy.

You ought to save all scraps
and peelings and whatnot.

All contributions gratefully received.
How much do we owe you?

- Five shillings.
- Soon earned. Sharper than farming.

- Where's the ham?
- Oh, pissing hell!

What's happened to that fire?

Where shall it be today, Mother?
Any preference?

- Where what?
- Our destination.

I thought we might have a little run
into Harrogate.

- Joyce.
- What, Mother?

We're in the garage.

I have to breathe, Mother.
I have to breathe!

- Why doesn't he put the wheels on, Joyce?
- Because we've no coupons.

Gilbert cannot get the juice.
I've got a husband who can't get the juice.

- I don't do work of national importance.
- Everybody else gets the juice.

Mrs Allardyce gets the juice. I saw her
having a perm yesterday, car stuck outside.

No doubt her perm is of national importance.

- What are you eating, Mother?
- Cream cracker.

- Where did you find it?
- In me cardigan pocket.

Well, get out of the car and eat it.
You know the rules: No crumbs in the car!

He's missed a bit there, Joyce.

You've missed a bit here, Gilbert.

I never have.

I can see my face in that.

So can I.

Line up your ration books. Ready, please.

- What can you do me?
- Nice bit of pork…

(Who's this woman behind me?)

Busy this morning. Of course they will be
now the other two have closed down.

(The chiropodist's wife.)

- Veronica's making great strides.
- Really?

How's the "Soldiers' Chorus" coming?
Keeping the fingers bent?

Gilbert was telling me you'd like us
to save our scraps for your pigs.

Well, yes, if you've got anything to spare.

Only don't give them anything
you can eat yourself.

- Sorry, love. I'm run off me feet.
- Oh, no!

Of course pigs will eat rhubarb leaves.

Here, here. It's for the pigs.

And the other.

"Don't give them anything
you could eat yourself."

I'm not having her think
we put just rubbish in the bin.

I wish I had one or two maraschino cherries!
It would show we had cocktails.

We don't have cocktails.

I'm carrying you, Gilbert.

Now then, Betty, have you missed me?

How's your foot? Is it better again?
It is better again, isn't it?

You're champion again, aren't you?
What is it? What? What is it?

Just a minute.

I forgot to give Betty these.
She'd be right downcast!

There's some ginger nuts. She likes those.
Could you give them to her whole?

I don't like him seeing you here.

- Shit! - Think he might tipple to it?
- Get in!

Jaunty toenail-clipping little sod!
Biking around!

Well don't grin on me, you festering,
bunion-scrapping, little pillock!

I want him out of that shop!

Frank's got lease back now.
It's in his office.

Then what are we waiting for, Henry?

Let's see
if I can find you a little something.

Leg of ham suit you?

I'm going to kill you, pig.

And that'll take the smile off your face.

Now you mind how you go, Mother.
They go mad 'round…

Oh, Gilbert!

- We're in!
- But in where?

- Ham! We've joined the club!
- Ham?

- We're on the circuit. Have a look!
- In the street?

So that's just the beginning.
Listen, why don't we splash out?

I've got to call at the surgery.

Why don't you go around to The Grand
and order afternoon tea?

You'd like that, wouldn't you, Mother?

Hello.

Look, all this has to stay put.
No, don't do that, I'll lock up.

Have you finished? You haven't finished!

I have to ask you for the keys
to this establishment.

- The keys? I've got keys.
- I know. I want them.

- Here.
- He's put his foot on my bonnet!

You're in breach of agreement:
failure to declare a change of use.

- You're supposed to declare a change of use.
- Take your foot off my bonnet!

You knew. You knew what I wanted it for!

- You need planning permission.
- You can apply for planning permission.

- Who should I apply to?
- Me.

See, this is where I belong, Mother.

Put me in a long frock. Surround me
with sophisticated people. I'd bloom.

You should have married
that sanitary engineer.

Still, when Gilbert
gets his surgery going on the parade…

we'll be in the forefront of this town.
This is just a beginning.

Ham, eggs, stuff under the counter.
It'll all come. You'll see.

It's a bit of scrag end!

Excuse me, madam.

Patrons are not permitted
to consume their own food on the premises.

- What that he's carrying?
- Looks like a foot.

Gilbert, are you deliberately trying
to humiliate me?

I've got something
that'll humiliate you more.

We've been thrown off the parade!

This town! These people are going to have
to be made to sit up and take notice.

They're going to have to be made to realize
who we are.

My father had a chain of dry cleaners!

We regularly used to take wine
with the meal as Mother well knows.

Telling us what we can and we cannot do!

My father wore a carnation
in his buttonhole every day of his life.

Lend me threepence.

I want a future that will live up to my past.

But when is it going to start?
That's what I want to know.

These are having cream cakes!

Porter…

Mind, Mother, come on.
She's 74.

Melon surprise, moule niçoise,
pork royale. Breaks your heart.

Listen, I've had just about enough.

If you want roast pork,
you can have roast pork.

You can have it next Sunday if you want.
And the Sunday after that.

And the Monday and the Tuesday.

You can have pork 'til you're blue
in the face. You can be fed up of pork.

Pork royale!

And you: You can have bacon, ham, sausage,
pork pies, tripe, pig's feet, liver, kidneys.

You can pig yourself on pork if you want!

Take no notice of him, Mother.
He's out to torment you!

- I mean it. We could. We can.
- How? How?

Steal a pig!

- What did you say?
- Nothing. Let's go.

Steal a pig.

Veronica! Go on in and start your piece!

Good job I put my foot down about children.

- Why bring that up?
- We wouldn't have had the room, would we?

Steal a pig!
It's not as if there are pigs to steal.

If there were pigs to steal, the butchers
would steal them, wouldn't they?

Oh, it's you all over! All talk, promises.
You were going to take this town, Gilbert.

Listen!
This morning I went up to Sutcliff's farm--

Da capo, Veronica.
And a little more mezzo forte.

- Whose pig is it?
- It'll belong to them at the farm.

(Oh, shouldn't have mentioned it.)

- It's illegal!
- It wouldn't be illegal!

Why is it illegal?

Are black market pigs illegal?

- Anyway, we've no means of transport.
- We've got the car!

- It's on blocks!
- Well, get it off the blocks!

And put a pig in it?

("No crumbs in the car, Gilbert.
No cake on the seat!")

- A pig in the car?
- Well, I could put some paper down.

This is an emergency.

No, let's sleep on it.

What's put this into your head
all of a sudden? Tomorrow's a working day.

- Do you know how to do it?
- I've done it before.

- Aye, and a right mess you made of it.
- I want to be there.

You can watch.
Only it's not going to be stuck today.

We'll have to wait until it gets better.

Them rats wouldn't have upset it,
would they, Preston?

No, it's had rats before.

It's what I say then:
Rhubarb leaves always means the squits.

You ought to know that, Preston!

Rhubarb leaves.

I knew it wasn't the rats.

- Rats! You've not been giving her rats?
- No! Scraps.

Could you not give her something, Charles?
You're the doctor.

Thank you. This is a pig, not a person.
You need a vet.

- But the principle must be the same.
- How would you know?

Take a bit of weight off her.
Diarrhea always does.

Oh, are you the doctor now?

I am not a doctor, Charles,
but my wife has two topics of conversation:

…One is the Royal family,
the other is her bowels.

- Why not kill it now?
- No!

I'm not having this joker in my fridge
a minute longer than I have to.

I've fetched me tackle up.
I'll kill it in a day or two.

Well, the dinner's on Thursday.

All this time…
I don't even know if it'll go!

Over here. Over here!

- This is going to take us to Scarborough.
- Scarborough!

It'll take us further than Scarborough.
It will take us to the top in this town!

They'll be lining up wanting to get
to know us then. Dr Swaby, Mr Allardyce.

Oh, yes! And I'll give them cocktails.

And we'll nibble at those refined little
sausages before going into a sumptuous meal.

It's not just pork, Gilbert, it's power.

Better get her out of the way.

Wake up, Mother. It's time you were in bed.
No-no, Mother, no. Naughty!

Goodbye. Good luck!

When did you start all this kissing?

- Gilbert! Gilbert!
- What?

I hope it's a clean one.

Is the sweep coming?

You ought to go and see how
that pig's going on, Preston.

We're going to go for a little walk, pig.

Shh.

…Come on, pig…

I miss the war.

Come on, Preston.
You reckon to be IC pig? [in charge of]

Preston!

It's off its paper, Gilbert!
It's off its paper.

- It won't know to stay on it.
- Well, fetch some more paper then.

Oh, Gilbert! Gilbert, quick!
Quick, it's doing its business!

It's a bit nervous.

- Oh!
- Oh!

I don't want Mother smelling it.
Oh, I cannot stand this.

- You'll have to do it now.
- What? - Kill it!

I'd imagined it in the kitchen.

I hadn't.

- I keep wanting to call it something.
- Why?

Why? You're going to kill it, Gilbert.
You're going to slit its throat.

- Couldn't you get fond of it?
- I could not, messing all up and down.

- Your mother does.
- I didn't hear that, Gilbert.

Oh, I can't stand this. Look at the floor!

I was quite right not to want kiddies
if this is what it's like. Kill it, Gilbert!

- I've never killed anything in my life.
- You should've thought of that before.

- Whose idea was it?
- Yours.

Who did you think was going to kill it?

- I thought I could ask somebody.
- Ask somebody? Ask? This is a crime!

But what do I do it with?

- Your feet knives. They're precision tools.
- Not for pigs.

Listen, Gilbert Chilvers

This country has just emerged
from a second world war

…a war when millions of people died,
most of them killed by their fellow men.

- Not with chiropodist tools.
- It's not the tools, it's the will.

It's doing its business again!
Oh, trust you to pick one with diarrhea.

Strange place, strange people.

You can understand it.
We ought to let it settle down.

Settle down?

Kill it.

With this?

- Joyce.
- What?

Can you smell a smell? I can smell a smell.

No, there's no smell, Mother.
No, you're imagining things.

- I wondered if it was me.
- I can't do it.

- It's him. He smells, Joyce.
- He does not smell, Mother. Go to bed.

He does smell, Joyce.

Oh, my God!

- That bowl was a wedding present.
- Well, it's not to know that.

Another parcel in the umbrella stand.

Maybe we could put it to sleep.

Here we are.

This way! Come on.

Isn't that nice? Come on, in you go.

Joyce.

What?

- I think it's gas.
- No, no.

I can smell gas.

- Go to bed!
- It's past your bedtime.

Mr Turnbull thought he could smell gas.

It's Mother. She turned it on
and never lit it. She's getting like that.

So long as we know. You don't think
you could smell something besides?

I don't know. A bit of a sickly smell.

It's Mother again.
She's had a bit of a do with her tummy.

- Keeps bringing stuff back.
- Oh, bless her.

Did she go off?

Could we poison it?

If we poison it, we can't eat it.

I think we're going to have
to take professional advice.

- What about? Me? Joyce!
- What?

Don't go calling Dr Swaby.
He'll put me away.

We're going to have to tell her.
Come down, Mother.

- You only just told me to go up.
- No, come down, Mother!

- I can still smell that smell.
- Never mind. Never mind the smell, love.

Sit down, I've got something to tell you.

- Sure it's not me?
- No-no, Mother, love. No, it's not you.

Listen, Mother, love,
we've got something to tell you.

We've got a pig in the house.
Do you understand, Mother? A pig.

- What sort of a pig?
- A pig, Mother, a proper pig.

Do you want to put me in a home?

- Shut up!
- I didn't say anything.

Dr Swaby put Mrs Beevers away. He asked her
the name of the prime minister.

She didn't know,
and he carted her off to Low Moor.

He wants my room!

We don't want your room.

Why does saying "there's a pig in the house"
mean we want your room?

Leave this to me, please, Gilbert.
This is my mother!

It's not like Mrs Beevers, love.
Mrs Beevers imagined things.

That's why Dr Swaby sent her away.
You don't imagine things.

It's just there's a pig in the house.

It's so if you catch a glimpse of it,
you won't think you're going bananas.

(Though she is going bananas.)

She wouldn't think she was going bananas if
you pulled your socks up and slit its throat.

What's this bananas? I could eat a banana.

There are no bananas. There's a pig.
There are no bananas! - Gilbert!

Forget the bananas, love!
There aren't any bananas, but there is a pig.

Only tell her:
If anybody comes around, there isn't a pig.

That's right.

But if anybody should call: No pig.
With us, a pig. With anybody else, no pig.

Who's going to come? Is it Dr Swaby?
He came to Mrs Beevers'.

Nobody's going to come. Dr Swaby, nobody.
But if anybody should come, no pig!

He told her she was going to Bridlington,
and she ended up in Low Moor.

It was her house!

Nobody's going to send you to Low Moor,
Mother. Dr Swaby, nobody.

We love you, Mother.
We wouldn't send you away.

It's just that we're in this rather unusual
situation where there is a pig in the house.

- Show her it!
- I will not show her it!

She's 74, and it's past her bedtime.

Come on, love! Up to bed.

With any luck, in the morning all this
will seem like a bad dream.

Joyce?

- Joyce?
- Have you done it?

Betty, Betty, Betty.

- We are going to look that silly.
- Silly? We're finished!

We've spent a lot of money
on that pig, Howard.

It's my understanding, it doesn't exist.

You'll wish it existed on Thursday
when you're sitting down…

…to a scrutty bit of lettuce and tomato.

But why can't he slaughter
one of his other pigs?

Because, clown,
the other pigs are all licensed and listed.

- Steady, Charles, I'm still a police officer.
- But you're not behaving like one.

- I'll sniff around.
- Sniff around?

It will be the other side of the Pennines
by now, sold to the Jew-boys in Manchester.

- Pork?
- Pork, nylons, anything.

I don't know what the last war was about!

How to kill it. That's what we want.
Does it say?

It doesn't say.

Well, you'll just have to improvise.

No pig, no pig.

Come on in, Veronica.

- She's 74.
- Come in, Mr Wormold.

Your house smells.

- Our house doesn't smell. Poor people smell.
- It's Mother. She's getting a bit careless.

I can't smell anything.
But then I can't smell anything.

German measles.

You have perfect feet.
I don't know why you've come.

More feeling, Veronica.

Bang, bang. More feeling, Veronica.

- Aaa! - Sorry …Sorry.
- A pig, a pig!

Don't be silly, there are no pigs here.
The idea!

Da capo, Veronica. Come on! Da capo.

Do you think he noticed anything?

Thought so.

There must be easier ways
of getting roast pork than this.

- Take your clothes off.
- What?

- Strip. There'll be blood.
- Joyce!

Come on! It's got beyond roast pork now,
Gilbert, it's self-respect.

It's whether we grow as people or just
go on as we've always gone on. Be sharp!

Our marriage is in a corner! I want
to pull down the walls. I want us to be free!

Kill it!

- She's my friend.
- Kill her! Kill your friend.

Do it for me. Go on, Gilbert. Go on, now!

- Joyce.
- Oh, my darling!

I've cut my finger.

Coward! Yellow!
You're yellow, Gilbert Chilvers!

A pathetic cringing nancy!
Don't you touch me!

Where are you going?

For a drink.

I'm going to have a drink,
then I'll be able to do it.

You won't! I should have married a man.

- I will. I promise!
- Nancy!

Oh, Mr Wormold!

What are you doing sitting in the dark?
Put the fire on!

- We've been asked to save power.
- You are a model, Mr Wormold.

- Stop in tonight.
- I must catch the killer.

The man who butchers the pigs.

- He doesn't have to be a butcher.
- Who knows?

- What?
- You've not been crying?

A hundred and 50 people.
100 and 50 people.

It'll be in the papers, of course.
They'll jump on it.

"Leading Lights in Dinner Fiasco"

Of course, practical socialism.
That's what it's going to be like now.

What's yours is mine.
Excuse me, while I help myself.

I'd have them bastinadoed.
I'd flay them alive.

- What about some tinned salmon?
- Tinned salmon?

I've got the northwestern-area president
of The Prudential Building Society coming.

You don't offer Arthur Cunliffe
tinned salmon!

"Civic Row Over Paltry Fare"

I've been trying to put me hands
on a couple of chickens.

- People I've dealt with for years.
- I'm not surprised. Not surprised at all.

What a nasty, piss-stained
little country this is.

It's like this new Health Service…

Any little poorly pillock is now going
to be able to knock on my door and say…

"I'm ill. Treat me."

Anybody! Me!

I can put my hands on two turkeys
in Bradford.

Two. Two?

We have got 100 and 50 people
coming, and Jesus isn't one of them!

Two turkeys in Bradford.

Five years of war, and that's what
it's come to: two turkeys in Bradford.

Well, do you want them or don't you?
I've got 'em on the phone.

Look at him, that foot fellow.

We're finished, you and me, Lockwood.
That's what's coming to the top: the scum.

- No class, no breeding, no morals.
- No pig.

I give this country five years.

- It smells at piano.
- They don't have as much money as we do.

They've got a pig.

They're not the only ones.

I saw it. Walking about the house.

Don't tell stories,
or you'll get a big nose.

- Bedtime.
- Shall I kiss Daddy?

Please yourself.

I did see a pig! It was all stinky.

Veronica!

Joyce.

- I want to use the toilet.
- You can't. Go somewhere else.

- Where?
- Anywhere!

Stay here!

Henry!

Henry!

Drink?

- Me?
- My birthday this year.

No, I'm due back.

- Been 'round the farms?
- Farms?

- You smell a bit rustic.
- Pigs, I'd have said.

I've got to go to the toilet.

- How much do you want?
- I beg your pardon?

You got something… we want.

Something… that belongs to us.

Something… with four legs.

And a little… curly… tail.

Shall we adjourn?

Hang on, I haven't been.

Don't move, I've got it cornered.

- You can't.
- Out of my way, nancy!

- They're downstairs: Dr Swaby, Mr Lockwood.
- Downstairs? I'm not dressed!

- It's their pig. We stole their pig.
- Their pig?

- We stole their pig.
- We? You.

Bet-bet! Who's this, then, Betty?

Betty.

It was theft.
Whoever it belonged to, it was theft.

You're a professional man.
You've got letters after your name!

We were hungry.

Hungry? Nobody's hungry.
Who's hungry? Who's your butcher?

I can't satisfy everybody.

She's in very good condition.

- Has she had a little bit of a tummy upset?
- Yes.

The important thing is:
the property has been recovered.

The status quo has been restored.
You're happy, the police are happy…

- …It's all been a big mistake.
- Mistake? I want this man crucified!

- You crucify him, Wormold crucifies you.
- He's got us by the scrotum.

Did she take to you?
I found her very affectionate.

Yes, yes, I did too.

Henry!

Now listen, you tapeworm! You've been
caught out in a nasty, cheap little crime.

I'd like to see you put away
for a long time.

I'd like to see you drummed out…

…of whatever miserable association
you chiropodists belong to.

I'd like to see you hounded out of this
town with your tail between your legs.

However, in Westminster Abbey
tomorrow morning…

A young couple are getting married
of a purity and a nobility…

Scum like you just can't comprehend.

As a gesture to them,
we're going to say nothing about this…

but take a tip from me…

Leave this town. We don't want you.

- Let's get that pig and get out of here!
- We can't. We're being watched.

Dr Swaby, Mr Lockwood, Mr Allardyce.
Oh, and Inspector Noble.

This is an unexpected pleasure.

I gather there's been some silly, silly
misunderstanding about this--this animal.

Well, we're all civilized people.
I'm sure we can talk it over.

Mother, give Dr Swaby a cocktail snack.

Mother?

Excuse me.

Come on in, Mother!

Hand them 'round!

- 74 and never misses a trick.
- No pig. No pig.

I think little Veronica
is going to startle us one of these days.

I'm going to throw caution to the winds
and have a sweet sherry. Nobody else?

I went by train to Lytham two years ago
to see my sister-in-law.

I travelled all by meself,
and I changed twice.

Dr Swaby's not interested
in your holidays, Mother.

I don't think we want that animal in here
while we're having our cocktails, do we?

- Let's get the pig and go.
- We can't. Wormold's outside.

- I'll have to kill it here.
- Here? - Now?

Slaughter it here. What a splendid idea!

We'd be only too pleased.
All our facilities are at your disposal.

Ring Sutcliff. Fetch Preston.
I'm going to need lots of hot water.

Seven nines are 63.

- We could…
- What?

- Let her go.
- Yes!

- Where?
- I don't know.

Just set her up somewhere. In a sty.

Not kill her, just keep her.

They'd go mad.

- All right.
- I've got a car. Grab hold!

Come, Betty! Come, Betty!
Betty, go on. Don't worry, Betty.

Silly twit.

- Oh, more sherry, Inspector?
- Don't mind if I do.

I wonder what he thinks we're doing?

Playing cards.
It's a perfectly normal activity.

Bridge! Oh, why didn't I think of it?

- Do you play, doctor?
- No.

The royal wedding
is exciting a great deal of interest.

- Do you mind if I ask you something?
- Certainly.

Have you any history of mental illness?

There might be some noise. Put wireless on.

We don't need the wireless.

- Am I too late?
- Come in!

Take his pinny.

I must say,
I'm looking forward to the wedding.

I read in the paper they're going to spend
their honeymoon in Broadlands.

Unfortunate name. Could be an institution.

Of course, it's what we do best, isn't it?
The pageantry.

The carriages passing in the streets,
the Household Cavalry, bells ringing out.

O England! It's like a fairy tale.

Gangway!

That water hot?

With a bit more leisure
I'd make black pudding. You got a razor?

I'm sorry.

Sorry?
Thought you called yourself a medical man.

First requirement of a medical man
is to have no feelings.

I want hand. We've got to get it upstairs.

- Well, I'm dressed up.
- I have a hernia.

My brother-in-law has a hernia.

What a charming man.

I teach the daughter piano. I think
one day she's going to surprise us all.

So sensitive.

Right, when I've seen to the carcass,
I'm leaving.

- I leave first.
- I'm the one he's watching.

I leave first, but empty-handed, right?
You can take the pig.

- We're not taking the pig!
- Do you want the pig, or don't you?

Joyce, can I go to the toilet?

Of course, Mother. There's no need to ask.

74.

- 11 elevens are a hundred--
- Go to the toilet, Mother!

We'll wait five minutes. Get the pig ready.

Do you have a hat and coat?

Think yourselves lucky, the pair of you.
You got off very lightly indeed.

But he was fond of her.
You were fond of her, I could tell that.

And don't be too upset.
We're just as much in the wrong as you are.

If this got out we'd all be ruined.

Oh, really?

I think you'd better sit down.
I think we've got some talking to do.

- Joyce.
- Shut up! Sit down!

Pillock!

- Perhaps you'd like a little sherry now?
- Very well.

Now you've found your way to our door,
I do hope you'll call again.

Yes, I will.

I'm bound to say, Mrs Chilvers,
you've gone up in my estimation.

You've got more about you than your husband.

Incidentally, if you ever want your mother
put in a home, I'm on the board of several.

Oh, do you hear that, Mother? Oh, how kind!

Well, à bientôt. [see you soon]

Right, Gilbert.
I think sexual intercourse is in order.

And now they are man and wife…

…the wedding was a family wedding
for the entire British people.

- Are you busy?
- No.

Are you any good at painting?

Shall I start at the bottom?
The bottom or the top?

Oh, I think it's perhaps better
if you work your way up, Morris.

Somebody at the door.

Take no notice. We're busy, aren't we?

- I love you, Mrs Forbes.
- I wondered if you did.

- Will you marry me?
- Possibly.

Only I'm still waiting
to hear from Kuala Lumpur.

Anyway, we can cross that "t"
when we get to it.

- Morris.
- Yes?

You'd have to be less keen on your job.

Shall I draw in the stocking tops?

It's a lovely hotel.
The toilets are immaculate.

They would put us right nextdoor
to the toilet--What are you doing, Gilbert?

Nothing, nothing.

Still, toilet or no toilet:
in ten years time, that'll be us.

My Lord Mayor, aldermen,
distinguished guests, ladies and gentlemen.

It is my great pleasure to propose to you
a toast in honor of the happy couple.

The happy couple!

[inaudible…]

Subtitles: J Lund