All language subtitles for Cheers.S05E24.1080p.BluRay.x264-BORDURE

Cheers is filmed
before a live studio audience.

I know, Dad, but still...

Well, whatever you think is best.

Right.

Bye, Dad.

- That was my dad.
- Really.

Yeah, he's threatening to make me move
back home to Indiana.

He's been talking to my Uncle Fergie.

They guy who was here last week?
I though he had a great time.

He did, but all he told them about
was the two times he got mugged.

That was just bad luck.

Woody, you live here two years,
how many times you been mugged?

Ten, but...

That's including the two times
with Uncle Fergie.

My parents are convinced that Boston
is a dangerous town

and all my friends are seedy lowlifes.

Surely they don't want you
going back to Indiana

because we're a corrupting influence.

Who knows? Somehow they got the idea

that every guy in Boston
is some lonely, pathetic weirdo.

Look, is this or is this not
the spitting image of George Shultz?

So, Woody,
what time does your bus leave?

Okay, let's take it again.

Diane, do we really
have to do this again?

We all agreed that the best way

to persuade Woody's parents
to let him stay

was to show them how decent
and upstanding his friends are, right?

Oh, yeah. Right.

Okay, and what better way to show them

than by making a film
of his everyday life?

And who better to serve as auteur

than the person who ruined the curve
in her film techniques class?

Hey, Diane, shoot the damn film.

Would you tell Fellini,
"Shoot the damn film"?

Would you tell Antonioni,
"Shoot the damn film"?

Would you tell Bergman
"Shoot the damn film"?

No. I'm telling you.
Shoot the damn film.

Better yet, shoot the damn Diane.

Please.

A little more reverence
for the words I've written.

Stick to the script,
and try to be spontaneous.

Okay.

Take 17.

Manchild in Beantown.

Action.

You know, when the average Joe
like me gets off work,

he needs to come to a place like this

where he can sort of unwind
with his surrogate family.

Took the words
right out of my mouth, Norm.

But it feel as if a crucial part
of our support system is missing.

You're right.

What do you think
that would that be, Carla?

Could it be that bucolic ray of sunshine
from Indiana?

Stupid. This whole thing
is stupid, Diane.

People, people!
Work with me! Work with me!

I hate that. "People, people."

- Please, Sam.
- All right. All right.

You're right. Woody's not here.

The place seems so empty
without his smiling countenance.

Hello, buddies!

Hello, Woody! Hello, Woody!

Come on over and join us
for some male bonding.

That sounds good,
but first I have to call my mother.

Yeah, it sure is refreshing to see a son
being so considerate of his mother.

Isn't it, Carla?

It's stupid!

You know, my lovely and cherished...

"Fawnlike."

Fawnlike bride-to-be, Diane Chambers...

You're right, Carla. This is stupid.

The whole thing is stupid.

Can't we just use our own words,
be ourselves here?

Fine, Mr. Smarty-pants.

If you're such an expert,
you take the camera.

- Go ahead.
- All right, I will.

Just don't come crying to me

when the whole
mise en scene deteriorates.

You'll find that film is an exacting art,
requiring a lot more

than just knowing where
the on button is.

Good luck.

Yeah, well, we don't need any luck,

and we don't need you either,
Cinemapuss.

Where is the on button?

Oh, good, good, you're just in time
to see our masterpiece.

Should I alert Pauline Kael?

Well, if you want to,
but tell her to get her butt in gear.

We're about to start.

Cliff ie, get the lights there.

This part was my idea. Look at it.

Startlingly original use
of the subjective camera.

Not really. They use it in all your
finer chain saw movies.

Hi, Mom, Dad. What a surprise.

I was hoping you'd get to see
where I work.

Welcome to the best bar in Boston.

Pretty wholesome and
unseedy-looking, huh?

And here are the best,
most uncorrupting friends

a guy could hope to have.

Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Boyd.

First, I'd like you to meet my boss
and good friend, Sam Malone.

Sam used to be a relief pitcher
for the Boston Red Sox.

Now he owns Cheers.

Hi.

This is Sam's office.
And over there, that's Sam.

He's more than just a boss to me.

He's like the big brother I never had.

Well, except for Tom.

Hi, Woody.
Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Boyd.

Another good friend, Mr. Norm Peterson,

has been kind enough
to run the camera for us today.

So, Sam, you're reading
the bible again, huh?

Well, yeah. I didn't think
I was going to get caught.

I was just enjoying St. Paul's epistle
to the Galatians.

Boy, those Galatians.
When will they listen?

Woody, what's going on?

Well, I have a little dilemma here, Sam.

My father might call me back home.

If he does, and I sure hope he doesn't,
what am I going to do with this?

I mean, after all,

what kind of place is a small farm
to raise a puppy?

I was hoping you could take him, Sam.

Well, gee, I don't have the room.

I guess you'll just have to
put the poor little fella to sleep.

Put this poor puppy to sleep
because I have to leave Boston?

Well, if that's what my father wants.

What a shame, Woody.
What kind of dog is it?

What's the difference?
He's gonna die.

Maybe your daddy will let you stay here
and take care of him.

I'd sure prefer that.
What about you, pooch?

Would you prefer that to dying?

Subtle tug at the old
heartstrings there, guys.

Boy, I'll say.

Hey, shut up, everybody!
You're missing my yard.

Hi. Welcome to our cookout.

Another chicken leg, Mr. Peterson?

Oh, well... Yeah, what the hey.

It looks pretty good,
if I do say so myself.

This is my coworker here,
Carla Tortelli.

- Carla, these kids are dangerous!
- Hi.

Now, what do you have here?

This is just the sort of family thing
we do here in Boston.

Say something, Carla.

Hi.

Say something besides hi.

Hello.

Do you hear that?
Carla lives near the airport, so...

Actually, sometimes it's hard to hear.

Why wasn't I invited?

You didn't miss much, Diane.

Carla's kids stole the beef and
they stuck Woody's shoes on the fire.

Smoked tongue, anyone?

Give me that! Give me that hat!

Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Boyd. I'm--

Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Boyd.

I'm Cliff Clavin,
a good pal of Woody's,

and a proud member
of the US Postal Service.

Come on along with me,

and I'll show you the kind of work
we do routinely at the USPS.

- Good morning, Woody.
- Hi, Mr. Clavin.

Hiya, Judy.

Well, let's see what we got
in the mailbag.

Well, look at this.

It's a letter all the way from Guam
to a man right here in Boston.

Well, it's made it this far.

It's up to me to see
that it gets where it's intended.

Woody, I'm gonna
get in big trouble for that.

I'm only one link in this chain.

A strong link. A vital link.

A missing link.

Come on in.

- Pretty impressive, huh, Woody?
- It sure is, Mr. Clavin.

Just think, all these letters

traveling thousands of miles
over oceans and rough terrain

right into the hands
of their intended addressee.

Anyway, thanks, Woody.

- You did that pretty well.
- Thanks.

Would you like to try one on your own?

Gee, Mr. Clavin,
I'm not a government employee.

Pretty good, Woody.

I was testing him. Smart boy.

Yeah, Woods, next time you lick a stamp

and put it on an envelope
and drop it in the mailbox,

be sure to give some thought
to the thousands of men and women

in the US Postal Service
who work very hard day after day

to make sure that your mail
is delivered safely.

Woods, you'd make
a good postal carrier yourself.

You got youth, stamina,
and a friend down at the post office.

Who's that, Mr. Clavin?

Then again,
bartending is a noble profession.

But, Woody, there's nothing quite like
the pride a postman feels

on the swift completion
of his appointed rounds.

You don't have to worry about me going
hungry if I stay here in Boston.

This town is famous
for its finer health food restaurants.

Hi.

And the best of them all
is the Hungry Heifer.

That's right, Woody.

I found out about this place

through a guy who's helped me
plan my life here in Boston,

a good friend and my financial adviser,
Mr. Norm Peterson.

Hi. Are you hungry?

Norm!

Nice place, huh?

Normally, for this sort of ambiance,
you'd have to travel to Albuquerque.

- Hi, Corinne.
- Hi, honey.

Studying at the feet of the master?

What can I get you, Norm?

The feeding frenzy special for two.

How about you, honey?

I think he was ordering for both of us.

No.

Well, give me just one.

Anything for you, Sam?

Smart move.

Corinne, I think you forgot
the French fries.

Don't you want to save room for dessert?

One step ahead of me.

They take care of you here.

Finally, I want you to meet
my good friend Dr. Frasier Crane.

I know what you always said
about psychiatrists, Dad,

but he's not a crook
or a nut case or anything.

He's a pretty smart guy.

There you go, Dr. Crane.

Thank you, Woody.

Mr. and Mrs. Boyd...

In Woody, you have raised
a young man of singular character,

not easily swayed by the attitudes
of those around him.

Trust him. Trust yourselves.

Let him do what he wants with his life.

Now, let me address
some of your reservations

about the psychiatric profession.

In this building, you see 18 floors
of highly trained,

dedicated professionals
whose sole purpose is to heal the mind.

And you know, I think...

Norm, could you run that back for me?

I've got to tell Dr. Judd
to keep his windows closed

during his depression seminar.

Well, what did you think?

After seeing that,
I think we should all move to Indiana.

I don't know how you guys did it, but
you made me out as some kind of a jerk.

Talk about movie magic, huh?

Maybe you were just
too close to the subject.

I thought he looked like a jerk, too.

You all looked like jerks to me.

May I say something?

Go ahead. Go ahead.
Tell me how right you were.

- Get it over with.
- On the contrary.

I was about to say
that I don't think any of these people

realize what a fine job you did.

- Oh, right.
- No, I mean that.

What you have here is the raw material
for a truly fine film.

- Thank you.
- The problem is its entirely structure.

It's too linear.

You know, that was gnawing at me, too.

We need to make a film
that appeals to the emotions,

not the intellect.

If you'll allow me,
I can transform your film

into a shattering emotional experience.

What are you going to do to it?

Snip here, snip there. Nothing much.

In a world gone mad,
where can a young man go?

Where? Where? Tell me, where?

Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Boyd.

Here are the best
and most uncorrupting friends

a guy could hope to have.

First, I'd like you to meet my boss
and good friend, Sam Malone.

Sam used to be a relief pitcher
for the Boston Red Sox.

This is just the sort of family thing
we do here in Boston.

Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Boyd.

Welcome to our cookout.

Another chicken leg, Mr. Peterson?

Be sure to give some thought

to the thousands
of men and women in uniform.

In Woody, you've raised
a young man of singular character,

not easily swayed by the attitudes
of those around him.

Trust him. Trust yourselves.

Let him do what he wants with his life.

Shouldn't we all have a chance
live our lives the way we choose?

Please, give us that chance
in the time we have left.

Well?

You're hurt because I was the only one
who had a credit at the end.

No. No. No.

- You keep the credit.
- Thanks.

It's just that I felt
I'd transformed your film

into a personal statement that was...

...Pure Diane Chambers.

It was pure something.

I don't know, Miss Chambers, maybe we'd
better not send this film to my folks.

Oh, Woody, it's a fait accompli.

Was it ever.

No, I mean I've already sent
a copy to your father.

For all we know,
he may be viewing it as we speak.

Oh, I think that's a mistake.

Why?

Well... your film...

didn't have enough...

There was-- there was too much...

It needed a little--

Yeah, and it stunk, too.

Thank you, Siskel and Ebert.

Take my word for it,
after Woody's father

sees this impassioned plea
for individual freedom,

there's no way
he'll be able to order Woody

to leave here against his will.

Well, I guess this is good-bye then.

I just can't believe
you're leaving us, Woody.

Are you sure my film
had no effect on your father?

Come on, face it.

All that weird stuff wouldn't mean
anything to a guy like Mr. Boyd.

Yeah.

Besides, he thought
it was too derivative of Godard.

You sure you don't mind
if I take this picture?

No, I want you to have it.

While we're at it, Woody...

Here.

One of your Elvis earrings.

Well, he was one of a kind,
and so are you.

Besides, the guy I went out with
last night swallowed the other one.

Here. I want you to have this.

It's a copy of being and nothingness.

My mother gave it to me in grade school.

Thanks, Miss Chambers.

I don't think I've read this one.

Woody...

A six-pack.

All the beer you've poured me
over the years.

Thanks a lot, Mr. Peterson.

Woodsy, I... I got a sheet
of commemorative stamps here

depicting all the US presidents.

Well, except nine.

That's great.
Thank you, Mr. Clavin.

See, I didn't know we were giving gifts.

I could...
Could I send you something?

That's fine, Dr. Crane.

It's been an honor knowing you, Woody.

If somebody had told me,
I could've picked something up.

- I got to go.
- I'll walk you to the car.

No. I want to remember you guys
the way you're standing.

Bye, Woody.

Well, hell, we don't have to stand
around here forever.

Does anybody know his shirt size?

Come on, let me
buy y'all a beer on the house.

- None for me, Sammy.
- Hello, Cheers.

Beer is just gonna remind me of the kid.

It'll be quite some time
before I can touch one again.

Well, that ought to do it, I guess.

Hey, it's Woody's dad. Get him. Get him.

Woody!
Woody, your father's on the phone.

Hey, guys. How you been?

Hello, Dad?

Really? Well, thank you.

You don't know how happy this makes me.

Yeah, I love you, too. Bye!

I can stay!

Yeah...

After reflecting on my film,
he was finally moved...

by its timeless message.

No. He tossed it in the thresher.

Well, what happened?

Someone sent him a real simple note
that changed his mind.

What did it say?

It said, 'Let your son
choose his own path,

and it will always lead back to you."

Eloquent.

But it wasn't signed.
Come on, guys, fess up. Who did it?

- Not me.
- Don't look at me.

- Carla?
- Yeah, right.

I sure wish I knew who it was
so I could thank him.

Don't mention it, kid.