Original subtitles

English subtitles by SirGawen (2012)

Good evening

You know, I think it was G.K. Chesterton, who once said...

"The follies"...

"The follies of my youth"...

"men's youth..."

"of men's youth..."

"are in glorious retrospect".

No, "are, in retrospect, glorious..."

And so, our story tonight...

"are in retrospect glorious"

Our story in retrospect...

No. "Are, in retrospect, glorious"...

"Are, in retrospect, glorious"...

"compared..."

"compared..."

...by Eddie Waring.

"compared to...

"compared"...

"the follies of men's youth are, in retrospect, glorious, compared to..."

"to..."

"compared to the follies of their old age."

"compared to the follies of their..."

Our sherry tonight...

No, no. I think it was G.K. Chesterton, who once said "The follies of our youth

"are, in retrospect, glorious, compared to the follies of our old age."

"And so our story tonight concerns a boy

confronted at one and the same time with the follies of youth and old age."

That's it!

Was it OK?

Fine, fine, fine.

I had been at Graybridge for two weeks,

and the dour, forbidding place had produced such misery in my soul

and fear in my mind as I had never known in my whole life.

Everything about the place seemed designed to crush the soul

and break down any reserve of pride I ever had.

Thank you, Foster. Next please.

Beating the headmaster was just one of those ghastly chores

which produced such depression within me.

Ouch! That's better!

There was also the compulsory fight with the grizzly bear,

which all new boys had to go through.

And there was St Tadger's Day when, by an old tradition,

boys who'd been at the school for less than two years,

were allowed to be nailed to the walls by senior pupils.

The days always began the same way.

We were welcomed by Alsatians at 3:30.

After two games of football we assembled for morning prayers

in the big hall.

O Lord, we give Thee humble and hearty thanks fot this Thy gift of discipline,

knowing that it is only through the constraints of others that we come to know ourselves

and only through true misery can we find true contentment.

We ask Thee especially today, o Lord, to remember the owner, trainer and writer

of Doncaster Boy of the 4th league of Chepstow.

And may the fire of Thy just and awful wrath

fall upon Biggs, Normanton, Potter Minor and Tookey. Amen, amen.

It has come to my knowledge that certain boys

have been helping masters to escape.

Some parts of glider have been found in the History 6th form library

and this must not repeat!

How I longed to be able to hop like the 2nd-year boys

and not to have to ask permission to breathe out after 10:30.

And how I dreaded, as we all did,

the sight of Grayson, the school bully.

He twice won the Public Schools Bullying Cup.

And last year the extraordinarily vicious Ackroyd of Charterhouse

at the kicking of fags at the Hurlingham Club.

I say, sorry Grayson...

You'll call me 'School Bully', you miserable little tick.

Five weeks after the start of term I had an amazing stroke of luck.

I was accidentally shot in the stomach

by Monsieur Lapoint during the French translation.

And I ended up in the school sanatorium.

Now, at last, my parents would come to visit me

and I could tell them of the horrors I was going through.

I felt sure they would understand.

Hello mummy!

Hello Tomkinson!

- How are the wounds? - Not bad, not bad.

Here, I've brought you these.

What are they?

- Shoe trees, dear. - Oh, super.

Where's daddy?

He's at the South Pole again, dear.

Oh, lucky daddy.

I wish I could be there.

- Tomkinson... - Yes, mummy? - He may...

He may not be back from the Pole.

You mean?

Yes. He has a woman down there.

Another woman, mummy, besides you?

I'm afraid so.

He keeps going back there, you know.

This is his 146th expedition.

I never realized. I thought he was...

...mapping the annual movement of the polar ice shelf? Yes, so did we all.

Mummy, perhaps I should come home?

No, no. I'm afraid you must stay here, Tomkinson.

A nice gentleman has agreed to pay your school fees

for four years.

And the headmaster says you can

stay on here free during the holidays...

But mummy...

I'm afraid it's the only thing we can do, Tomkinson.

I should continue to send you cakes, of course.

Oh mummy, please.

I'm afraid I must go now, dear.

I do hope the wounds heal up.

Oh, they're nothing, honestly mummy. Please let me just come back...

- Are you coming, Elspeth? - Yes, Mr Hoggins.

Good bye, Tomkinson.

Bye bye, mummy.

I was shattered.

I couldn't believe that my father would just go off

like that with another woman.

He was a homosexual for a start!

That moment on I resolved to do everything in my power

to escape from Graybridge at the first opportunity.

Play... well...play that, boy. Keep that...

In there! In there! In there!

Get him! Get him! Get him!

Bravo!

Well taken! Oh, well taken, Tomkinson!

...come on, Tomkinson, run, run, run, run...

Well played, boy. Well played...

Tomkinson?

Tomkinson!

I was seventeen miles from Graybridge before I was caught by the school leopard.

Two weeks later I tried to get out disguised as a woman.

Morning, chaplain.

But I was caught by Mr Moodi, the Spanish master.

- Get off!

Good Lord! Tomkinson!

From then on I was confined to indoor activities only.

Jolly good, jolly good.

Now, what are you boys doing?

Oh, that's very good.

Now, what's this there?

Aa, yes.

Pretty good.

What is that, Tomkinson?!

It's a model icebreaker, sir.

It's a bit big for a model, isn't it?

It's a full-scale model, sir.

It's not a model if it's full scale, Tomkinson.

It's an icebreaker.

This is good, isn't it, sir? It's got three engines, an enormous...

No, no, no, it's not a point. That is not a model.

It'll be hell if this comes out at speech day exhibition.

You are a very stupid boy, building an icebreaker like this, Tomkinson.

Yes, sir.

I won't say anything to the headmaster, if you can get it down

to a minimum of four foot.

But sir, there's fifteen hundred tons of steel in this...

Do you want to come and see the headmaster with me?

No, sir.

Well, melt it down at once! - Yes, sir.

Sorry, sir.

There seemed no way I could escape from this prison.

Daily my depression and misery mounted.

Until one day...

amongst the usual games announcements

on the school noticeboard, something caught my eye.

"On June 12th in big school Rear Admiral Sir Vincent Smythe-Obleson,

the polar explorer, will address the school".

I wondered - could this be my chance?

For our school lecture this term, we are very fortunate to secure

the services of one of our most famous and distinguished old boys -

the polar explorer, Rear Admiral Sir Vincent Smythe-Obleson.

Applause! Applause!

Hello boys! How nice it is to be here...

- Speak up! - Who said that?

- I would like to say... - Shut up!

Who was it?

Right. The entire back three rows will come to beat me this evening.

Carry on.

I've just returned from exploring one of the enormously

interesting polar icecaps.

I explored it for over three months eight hours a day.

I got up at 9:00 and explored until 6:00,

with one hour non-exploring break for lunch.

And during that time, I can sincerely say,

I explored in His Highness's name

an area the size of Yorkshire!

This area...

Stop it!

If the school refuses to show the appreciation spontaneously,

I shall enforce to close it down instantly and burn selected boys.

- This area... - Wait!

Is that clear?

Go on.

This area of polar icecap I have called Graybridgeland.

This was the moment I've been waiting for.

You know boys, there's nothing worse than seeing a human body abused.

Rubbish!

- Who said that? - Mr Ryan, sir.

Oh, I see. Sorry, I thought it was one of the boys.

Carry on.

...and the future of our children and our children's children...

...let's all stand and sing the school song.

"My school, my school, la la la la..."

The lecture finished and soon I felt myself being lifted up.

It worked!

At last I was on my way out of Graybridge.

Not daring to breathe, I looked out on the new world outside.

That was very good, Ellis. Very good indeed.

Thank you, headmaster.

You'll see some better money there.

But why... why the school song?

I thought it was a jolly good whizz end, sir,

just sort of came to me.

- Well, stick to the script in future, Ellis. - Yeah.

Oh, no.

After the incident with the trunk things became really hard for me.

My ears were sewn back

and I had three weeks detention

in a sack on a school maggot pit.

But for the first time I became the centre of some attention at Graybridge,

and I found myself once again

in the presence of Grayson - the school bully.

Come!

In return for not hitting any of the masters,

the Head allowed Grayson certain privileges,

such as having unmarried Filipina women in his room,

smoking opium and having a sauna instead of prayers.

He's been on the term cruise to South America

and looked fit and well.

Aw, Tomkinson, ha ha ha...

You appaling little creepies.

You really are the ugliest, most unpleasant little piece of vermin.

It's only my misfortune to encounter.

I breathed a sigh of relief. At least he liked me.

Some filthy little creeps at lower school

told me all about your escaping tricks. - That's right, yes...

- Don't answer back, you smutty little oik! - Sorry.

Don't you know that all escape routes from the school

are managed by myself and the chaplain?

No.

Why d'you think the chaplain is always laying gas mains and doing sewage works?

- I thought he liked it. - Shut up, I'm talking.

Of course he doesn't like it.

He does it because I tell him to

and because I'm the only person he knows who's ever likely to get him archbishopric.

Mr Hoskins going to be an archbishop? - When he's finished digging.

......... he thinks that it's gonna be York or Canterbury,

which is sad really.

- Oh, where is it? - Soligorsk.

It's in Ukraine.

It's pretty cold and the food's unspeakable, but I can't help that.

Anyway, the point is the chaplain has nearly completed the network

of tunnels over 12 miles long.

The last thing we need is a spotty little twerp like you...

School bully.

Ha ha ha... Yes, we're just talking about you.

What? No, no. I'm afraid he hasn't come yet.

What? Oh no, no, I'm afraid it hasn't arrived.

He asked about the hat, the archbishop's hat.

No, I'm sorry.

No, you can't start this weekend.

Why?

Well, the old one has to die, for a start, that's why.

No, I could not do that.

What's the hurry anyway?

What?

Oh, you haven't!

Oh, you idiot!

Er... Tomkinson, yes.

You're very keen to get out of this place, aren't you? - Rather.

Yes... Pick him up, pick him up.

Well, though I loathe and detest the sight of your odious little face,

I'm prepared to let you be the very first

to try out the chaplain's new tunnel.

Oh, thank you, thank you, bully.

Yes... Do you like... Do you like girls?

Who?

- Suki. - Yes, school bully?

Suki, how would you like to show Tomkinson the tunnels, eh?

Keep him company, you know?

Gosh!

A cigarette?

So it was that four hours later, carrying 200 cigarettes,

completely drunk and with a half-naked

unmarried Filipina lady, I emerged behind the writing desk

in the headmaster's study.

The chaplain, now 74 and impatient to get his archbishopric,

had finished the tunnel just a 100 yards too early.

I was found guilty of smoking, drinking, lying, thieving,

breaking the headmaster's writing desk

and escaping without permission.

I was sentenced to the most awful penalty the school could provide -

the 30-mile hop against St. Anthony's.

The training for the hop was a nightmare.

But after three weeks of these nightmares

we had a hopping team second to none.

I will never forget the day of the hop.

The whole school was in a fever,

mostly dysentery and beriberi;

a few cases of blackwater fever and scurvy amongst the older boys.

Our opponents from St. Anthony's - a buddhist public school in Yorkshire -

were legendary hoppers.

As soon as we were in line, Mr Graffit, who was a gundy for the day,

gave us each the traditional palfries.

Ready for a palfry?

Tall laddie for a palfry!

Weeny laddie for a palfry!

Medium-size laddie for a treat big palfry!

Thank you, gundy.

Good luck, Graybridge.

Boys of St. Anthony's and Graybridge school!

Hop ye, and hop ye good this day!

On your marks, get set...

Hop up, Graybridge.

We all did our best, (God knows!)

but we severely weakened by our training.

We were no match with St. Anthony's boys,

many of whom had hopped internationally.

As we headed into the mountains, the rocks began to take their toll

of young bodies ravaged by three terms of athlete's foot.

After twelve and half miles I saw Venner of 5A fall and die exhausted.

And after seventeen miles he was joined by Apsley, Credworth,

P.E. Spitwell, Emerson and Zappa Major.

I knew that my own time would soon be up.

On 21st mile a wave of darkness swept over me,

I could go no further.

This was it.

Hello there, you snivelling little creep.

The School Bully?

Look, you little toad. I'm sorry about getting you to this spot.

Oh, the hop? It'll be all right...

Huh, of course it won't, you pathetic little twerp.

You won't last out the course. Nobody from Graybridge has.

So, I've got something here that... might help a little bit.

Now, you just have... have a little sniff of that.

What is it?

Ehm, well, it's a sort of..., erm...

...sort of smelling salts.

I just...?

Oh yes, you do. You just... you just sniff it.

Gosh...

Yes, here they are.

It'll keep you on your foot for a bit.

Well, good luck!

You dismal little creep.

I didn't know what Grayson had given me,

but the mountains looked wonderful that day.

Huge grey-green monsters grappled with the black soot-like demons

of the cliffs and crannies.

I heard sheep talking and the grass reciting poetry.

My father always said Nansen was on something when he explored Greenland.

And now I can understand it.

I felt I could hop for ever!

My mother... Is she in? I must see her.

Oh, I'm afraid she's busy, sir.

I don't care, I must see her.

- She... she's playing tennis, sir. - Thank you.

- D'you want a bit...? - No.

Mummy!

Tomkinson!

Oh, good Lord, Mr Bradman! What a service!

...nothing else. That's why I'm here.

You can't just let your schooling gone, Tomkinson.

You owe it to me, and you owe it to your father.

Mummy, you can't send me back to that prison.

Don't be silly, dear.

You don't know what's it like when they torture and beat you...

Very interesting, dear.

Mother, I'm never ever going back!

Now, listen!

Before your father started out on that last fatal polar journey,

I made a solemn vow that I would always, always keep you at school.

Just let me go and see him. He'll understand.

Don't be a fool, dear.

He's at the other end of the earth, surrounded by five million

square miles of uncharted ice and snow.

How on earth do you think you'll find him?

Well, you've got his address.

Yes, but I couldn't give it to you.

Mother, I...

He made me promise never to reveal his whereabouts

to a member of the press.

- But I'm not a... - No, you must go back to Graybridge,

as he would have wanted.

And I must get on with the gardening.

- But surely... - There's some rhubarb for the journey.

- Good bye, Thomson. - Tomkinson.

Sorry - Tomkinson.

Pa pa, mother.

- Who is this? - Who is what?

- This man. - What man?

Good Lord! Get off!

Yes, get your hands off my mother!

Tomkinson!

Daddy!

Enter!

Sorry, I'm late, Bully. I was detained by the prayers.

Heard you good news? Have you? Tomkinson won the hop!

Yes... yes... . Jolly good.

Yes, yes. This is... erm, jolly..., eh... jolly good.

Are you going anywhere, Bully?

Yes. I've been offered a job at Eton.

At Eton?

Yes, Eton. You have heard of it, haven't you? Silly little headmaster.

Yes, of course, Bully.

Their school bully's left to join the government.

They offered me the job. Two thousand pounds a year,

meals sent up from London, a house in France during prep,

an insurance to cover all boys' damages,

I think it's very good...

Look... you can't just... You can't just leave like this, you know.

I mean, parents send their boys to Graybridge

just to be bullied by you.

I'm afraid it's your problem, you scruffy little creature.

No, no, ...Let's think about it.

I mean, Graybridge has got a good name for bullying.

You can appoint somebody else, easily enough, can't you?

But you can't do this to me. You know there's nobody in the school with your

strength, your... your effortless, almost superhuman...

- What about Tomkinson? - I was going to make him head of school...

Oh, come on. He deserves more than that.

After all, he's the only one we've had who's ever won the hop.

Good bye, Suki.

Yes, yes, he won the hop, but Bully...

...bullying...

does all the thing... you know, I mean...

Do you think he's up to it?

As I cycled back to the leafy English countryside towards Graybridge,

a thousand memories crowded into my mind,

of the horrors that had blighted my life there

and the lives of so many of my friends and companions;

what was to ruin my life for three more years.

Will the system like that ever change?

There was no hope left.

Here he comes!

Right, boys. Stand straight. He's here.

At first, I couldn't believe what was happening,

but slowly I realized.

Perhaps there was a chance to change Graybridge.

Boys, three cheers for Tomkinson - hip hip hooray!

And for some reason, it was being offered to me.

Jolly good show, Tomkinson.

But of course, I knew I would have to do it in easy stages.

Call me School Bully, you ghastly little toad!

Ha ha ha ha. Jolly good, huh?

I knew you'd make a go of it, Thomson.

Thomkinson, cloth ears!

Sorry, School Bully.

Let's all sing the school song.

"My school, my school, how bravely she stands. Long..."

English subtitles by SirGawen (2012)