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- 片 名Porridge
- 上映时间1979年08月12日
- 导 演
迪克·克莱门特
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剧 情
This prison comedy is based on the popular British televison series of the same name. Long time Slade prison inmate Fletcher (Ronnie Barker)...
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[Trying to make small talk with Fletcher]
Mr Beal:
Long to do?
Fletcher:
Long enough.
Mr Beal:
What you in for?
Fletcher:
Got caught.
[At lunch time]
Bunny Warren:
What's the 'old up Fletch?
Fletcher:
It's the defrocked dentist havin' a go at the cuisine again.
Bunny Warren:
'Ere Fletch!
Fletcher:
I'm late.
Bunny Warren:
Look, I've got a letter from the wife, can you read it to me?
Fletcher:
Listen Bunny, if you can't read, how do you know it's from your wife?
Bunny Warren:
It's got Elaine's scent.
Fletcher:
Cor, where's Elaine work? A tarpaulin factory?
Mackay:
Fletcher!
Fletcher:
Sir.
Mackay:
If you want to sing, I suggest you form a Slade Prison Glee Club.
Fletcher:
Glee?
Fletcher:
You're lookin' a bit down in the mouth, Mr Barrowclough, anything the matter?
Mr Barrowclough:
Oh, nothing much. The usual. Domestic crisis.
Fletcher:
Oh dear. Mrs Barrowclough left you, has she?
Mr Barrowclough:
Unhappily... no Fletcher.
[watching Mackay testing the curry in the prison kitchens]
Fletcher:
Course, he sees 'imself as an authority on curry, he does, on account of where he was stationed in the army.
Rudge:
Where? India?
Fletcher:
No, Bradford.
Godber:
Hey, why don't we nick a chicken?
Fletcher:
Don't be silly, it's Wednesday afternoon. Where we going to get sage and onion stuffing, eh?
Fletcher:
I wouldn't leave that bike there if I was you.
Mr Beal:
When I want your opinion, I'll ask for it.
Fletcher:
Suit yourself. But there are one or two thieves in 'ere. Know what I mean?
[Fletcher finally gives in and reads Bunny's letter]
Fletcher:
All right, I'll just you the 'ighlights, all right? 'Dearest Bunny, blah blah blah, blah blah blah, blah blah blah, blah blah blah, blah blah...
[pause as he turns the page]
Fletcher:
blah.
Bunny Warren:
Blah blah blah what?
Fletcher:
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It's trivia, Bunny, it's just trivia, it's the weather, her mother's catarrh, she's retiled the lav, the canary's got haemorrhoids, she's met a welder at the Fiesta Club and she's thinking of movin' in with him. All right? Must rush. Can't hang about.
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[exits]
Bunny Warren:
But...
[pauses]
Bunny Warren:
...we 'aven't got a canary.
Mr Beal:
What you in for?
Rudge:
Two years.
Mr Beal:
I didn't mean time, I meant offence.
Oakes:
None taken.
[Having been kidnapped and dumped outside jail, Fletcher and Godber try to break back in. They have to pass a farm where the old farmer is leaning on the gate. Fletcher riding is a bike, and Godber jogging alongside]
Fletcher:
[talking to Godber] Come on, come on, don't flag, jab, jab.
[talks to the farmer]
Fletcher:
It's the big one next week, sir.
Farmer's wife:
Who was that?
Farmer:
Couple of escaped convicts.
Farmer's wife:
Ohhh.
[it's after lights out and lock up. There is the distant sound of a fellow inmate groaning mid-nightmare]
Godber:
You awake, Fletch?
Fletcher:
No.
Godber:
It's that bloke, Atkinson.
Fletcher:
I know.
Godber:
Keeps getting these terrible nightmares.
Fletcher:
Yeah.
Godber:
He's told the shrink about 'em, but all he's given 'im is aspirin. You have to feel compassion, don't you? A human soul in such torment.
Fletcher:
Hmm.
[Atkinson bellows something in the distance]
Fletcher:
[shouts] Belt up, Atkinson, you noisy scrote.
[discussing a new arrival]
Godber:
He's been sitting in his cell since chow, just staring at the wall.
Fletcher:
Ah well, he's just had his first experience of your cottage pie. Best not to move about too much after that.
Fletcher:
Success? Let me tell you about success. I had a pal, come to London 28 years ago without two ha'pennies to rub together. Now he managed to save up enough to buy a little hand cart and he went round collecting all old newspapers. Do you what he's worth today?
Mr Barrowclough:
No, what?
Fletcher:
Nothing. And he still owes for the hand cart.
[In the prison kitchen, Godber is testing the soup]
Godber:
It lacks something, Lotterby. With this soup Elizabeth Davies recommends coriander, bay leaves and a dash of pepper.
[Lotterby takes a huge pot of pepper and empties it into the pan]
Godber:
I said a dash, Lotterby.
[At lunch, Godber and Lotterby are serving cottage pie and baked beans]
Fletcher:
Hello, Len.
Godber:
All right, Fletch?
Fletcher:
Listen, it's the laddo's first day in 'ere. Do 'im a favour, will you? Give 'im a small portion.
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Fletcher:
'Ere, you owe me some darning wool.
Godber:
I already gave you some.
Fletcher:
That was in exchange for the orange.
Godber:
Tangerine. Anyway, that was to pay me for the stamp.
Fletcher:
What stamp?
Godber:
For your pools.
Fletcher:
I paid you for the stamp with a squirt of me toothpaste.
Godber:
No, that was for the darning wool.
Fletcher:
You're not doing yourself any favours, are you Banyard? All you're doing is getting up other people's noses.
Banyard:
We have certain rights.
Fletcher:
No we don't, we're in the nick.
Ives:
I suppose you think you're entitled to something better just because you went to a public school, is that it?
Banyard:
On the contrary, Ives, I'm well used to this kind of food, I went to Harrow.
Fletcher:
Oh that's a good advert for the public school system, prepares you for the nick. Course it's harder in here for him than for most of us, 'cause he has had further to drop. Professional man, you see. Dentist. Tragic.
Ives:
What do you mean, Fletcher, 'tragic'? It's no laughing matter for that woman he had under the laughing gas.
Banyard:
There's no need for that, Ives. We don't have to keep unearthing each other's past, I'm paying for my peccadilloes.
Fletcher:
Oh that's good. If you're paying I'll have a large one.
Bunny Warren:
What's a peccadillo?
Ives:
It's a South African bird. Flies backwards to stop getting the sand in its eyes.
Bunny Warren:
No. No. I know what you mean though. It's an animal. Called the Armadildo.
Banyard:
The Armadildo.
Fletcher:
No, that was King Arthur's codpiece. I think that's what I'm eating an' all.
[Fletcher is on the prison farm, leaning on his shovel next to the pig sty and yawning. Mr Barrowclough arrives accompanied by Rudge, a new inmate at Slade]
Fletcher:
Oh, morning Mr Barrowclough.
Mr Barrowclough:
Busy, Fletcher?
Fletcher:
Oh busier than ever, sir. Mind I never complain.
Mr Barrowclough:
I can't actually see what it is you're supposed to be doing.
Fletcher:
It's the pigs, sir. They won't eat without my reassuring presence. Very highly strung your average pig, you know.
[Sees Rudge]
Fletcher:
Who's he?
Mr Barrowclough:
Oh, Rudge. Newly assigned to the farm.
Fletcher:
How'd he work that then?
Mr Barrowclough:
Pardon?
Fletcher:
What? First day inside, the farm? What is he, the governor's nephew?
[Bunny has finally found someone to read his wife's letter]
Godber:
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...oh well, that's all I have time for. There's the ironing to be done before Starsky and Hutch. Needless to say, I love you and miss your loving... arms, I think it says.
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Bunny Warren:
Yeah, would be arms yeah.
Godber:
Then it's lots of hugs and kisses. Nice letter.
Bunny Warren:
So there's nothing in here about a welder or a canary?
Godber:
No. I would have noticed.
[Fletcher and Godber have found their way back to the coach they were kidnapped in. It's surrounded by police]
Godber:
What is it?
Fletcher:
Cops.
Godber:
Copse? What, you mean like a wooded glade?
Fletcher:
Yeah. A wooded glade crawlin' with bleedin' cops.
Mackay:
Are you wearing make-up again, Whittaker?
[Fletcher and Rudge are on their way to the kitchens when another inmate passes by]
Fletcher:
Watch out for 'im. 'Es the mad butcher of Slade prison.
Rudge:
What did he do?
Fletcher:
Fiddle the VAT on his sausages.
Fletcher:
'Ere Grouty, listen to this.
Harry Grout:
Listen to what?
Fletcher:
You know Robbie Patten who works in the laundry, well 'is wife wanted a divorce so she goes to the solicitor and 'e says "well, you've got to 'ave grounds". "What's grounds" she says. So 'e says "Firstly, there's insanity", well Robbie's a bit of a dipstick, like, but 'e's not certifiable. "Secondly there's desertion", well 'e's in 'ere, 'e can't go nowhere. "Third there's cruelty", well as you know 'e wouldn't hurt a fly "so that leaves adultery", "what's adultery" she says, so 'e tells 'er and she says "ah. I think we've got 'im there. 'E is not the father of my child!".
[it's the day of the football matcha and the team captains shake hands]
Mr Mackay:
Now I want a nice clean fight.
Urquart:
It's not a boxing match, Mr Mackay.
Mr Mackay:
That's what I'm anxious to avoid.
[breaking back into prison]
Godber:
This is just like the wooden horse.
Fletcher:
What wooden 'orse?
Godber:
The Greeks and the Trojans. That's how the Greeks got into Troy.
Fletcher:
Would you mind savin' the 'istory lesson til we get back into our flowery dell?
Fletcher:
A captain, Godber, has to possess certain attributes which set him apart from the rest of his team, that is why I've chosen Light Fingered Larry.
Godber:
Urquart? What attributes has he got?
Fletcher:
'Alf an ounce of snout which he's now given to me, all right?
Fletcher:
Cheer up, might never 'appen.
Rudge:
Already 'as, I'm 'ere ain't I?
Fletcher:
Now look. Whatever you're in 'ere for you did it didn't ya?
Rudge:
Banged to rights? Ye
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ah!
Fletcher:
Yeah. Just like me. If we 'adn't have been caught we'd have been Jack the lad wouldn't we? But no. We was. We was collared, so don't bleat. If you can't do the time, don't do the crime.
Fletcher:
Show me a man who laughs at defeat and I will show you a black chiropodist with a sense of humour.
Fletcher:
Do you see yon screw with his looks so vain, with his brand new key on his brand new chain, with a face like a ferret and a pea for a brain, with his hand on his whistle in the morning.
Banyard:
What sort of pie is this?
Godber:
Fruit pie.
Banyard:
Yes, I realised that. I merely wondered what sort of fruit.
Godber:
I dunno, it just comes out of a tin marked "Fruit Pie Filling".
Banyard:
So, we have no clue to its origins?
Lotterby:
[after sticking his finger in Banyard's dessert bowl and tasting the fruit] No, it's not oranges. It's more like, er... plum or damson.
Harry Grout:
Now we need someone reliable as trainer.
Fletcher:
Don't look at me. I've grown disenchanted with the game. Twenty years of supporting Orient does that for a man.
Fletcher:
What's the matter with you?
Godber:
We're still banged up in this cell aren't we, while Oakes is Hardy Kruger.
Fletcher:
Hardy Kruger?
Godber:
"The One that got away". A film starring Hardy Kruger.
Fletcher:
Don't worry. Before too long he'll be Googie Withers again.
Godber:
Googie Withers?
Fletcher:
"Within these walls".
Mr Beal:
I was married. Divorced now.
Mr Barrowclough:
Well, look at it this way, 'tis better to have loved and lost than
[sighs]
Mr Barrowclough:
to spend your whole ruddy life with her.
Godber:
Darn your own naffing socks.
Fletcher:
We got plenty of strength at the back, one thing we're not short of is stoppers. What we need now is a bit of creative mid-field flair.
Godber:
From what I saw of him Rudge could provide that. Revelation he was.
Fletcher:
Yeah. Reckons he had a trial for Brentford before he had a trial for shoplifting.
Harry Grout:
Now then.
Fletcher:
Listen Grouty, if it's about the teeth.
Harry Grout:
What?
Fletcher:
Well, I realise you are entitled to a first refusal.
Harry Grout:
Are you referring to Mackay's missing molars?
Fletcher:
I'm assuming that's why I was sent for. I mean, nothing gets past you Grouty.
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Harry Grout
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:
Oh no. If you've got them it's your tickle.
Rudge:
Who was that fellow on the landing?
Fletcher:
Who? Him? Harry Grout. He runs this prison.
Rudge:
I thought that was the governor's job.
Fletcher:
No only officially sonny. Next time you meet him bow, curtsy or lick his boots if he asks, all right?
Godber:
[discussing Rudge the new arrival] He's only a kid.
Fletcher:
Oh listen to 'er.
Godber:
No, I just remember the first night I come in here. How I felt when that door banged shut. Hey, you should go and have a word with him.
Fletcher:
Why?
Godber:
You're good at that sort of thing. You perked me up when I first arrived.
Fletcher:
Listen, I broke you in Godber because you was forced upon *my* cell and it was in *my* interests not to 'ave a manic depressive in the bottom bunk.
Godber:
I've had it with you.
Fletcher:
You what?
Godber:
You've really got up my goat these past two weeks.
Fletcher:
Wrong Godber. I *get* your goat. I don't get up your goat. I get up your nose or on your wick.
Godber:
Well just lately you've done all three.
Mackay:
What's on the menu today Godber?
Godber:
Creme Dubarry, followed by curry sir.
Mackay:
Curried what?
Godber:
Meat sir.
Mackay:
What meat?
Godber:
I dunno. It just says 'tinned meat'. On the tin like.
Fletcher:
[rings Mr Beal's stolen bicycle bell]
Godber:
So that's what you've got is it?
Fletcher:
Yeah, hardly ever been used.
Godber:
What are you gonna use it for?
Fletcher:
I dunno.
Godber:
Well why'd you nick it?
Fletcher:
He'd got one and I 'adn't.
Harry Grout:
I'm Harry Grout.
Oakes:
Everyone knows that. Bill Oakes.
Harry Grout:
I know your form Oakesy. You've been moved here from Wakefield where you obviously kept your nose clean. Half-way through a twelve stretch for armed robbery, isn't it?
Oakes:
That's right.
Harry Grout:
Big tickle, that last job of yours. I hope the money's safely stowed away.
Oakes:
Someone's been investing it for me.
Harry Grout:
Oh, safe as prefabs then.
Oakes:
That's why I want out, I wish to unfreeze my assets and take off to the sun.
Harry Grout:
I can see why you would.
Oakes:
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Naturally there will be the appropriate recompense to your good self.
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Harry Grout:
Yeah, I like the word recompense.
Oakes:
I was thinking...
Harry Grout:
[interrupts] No. Let me tell you *my* thinking. Three before, two after. It's only fair the lion's share should come up first. After taking off to the sun, people are often careless about tying up their affairs.
Oakes:
Where'd you want it put?
Harry Grout:
Hastings and Thanet Building Society. Bexhill branch.
Oakes:
And if you don't spring me?
Harry Grout:
Then you get your money back. Mind, I keep the interest.
Mackay:
My day will come.
Fletcher:
Here you are lad. Shovel it.
Rudge:
Shovel what?
Fletcher:
Shovel that.
Rudge:
Shovel it where?
Fletcher:
From here to there.
Rudge:
Why?
Fletcher:
Why? Ah, if only we knew that sonny, but we don't do we. Ours not to reason why, ours but to clean the sty. Wordsworth.
Godber:
Fletch, leave the bell alone.
Mr Barrowclough:
This job is a privilege, you know.
Fletcher:
For the pigs, yeah.
Governor:
Oh, well-played Slade. Who is that?
Fletcher:
That's Armstrong, sir.
Governor:
Shame. He's going out next month, if we have any more matches.
Fletcher:
Yeah, he'll be choked he will.
Mr Beal:
Where are you going with that?
Fletcher:
Pigswill.
Mr Beal:
What?
Fletcher:
Swill for the pigs, sir, pigswill.
Mackay:
We find it best to put them all together in G wing or as we call it, married quarters.
Mackay:
Don't be cheeky, Ives.
Fletcher:
I thought I told you to wait in the car.
Mackay:
I won't buy it, Fletcher.
Fletcher:
That's just as well 'cause it ain't for sale.
Mackay:
As you can see, Mr Beal, these men are gainfully employed in the manufacture of prison uniforms.
Armstrong:
I'm going to open my own boutique when I get out.
Mackay:
That'll do, Armstrong.
Mackay:
I was in the village today. There were some interesting reports. Sightings you might say.
Fletcher:
UFOs?
Mackay:
Indeed. Unidentified *Fleeing* Objects.
Mackay:
There are only two rules in this prison, Rudge. Are you listening to me? One, you do not write on the walls. Two, you obey all the rules.
Fletcher:
Oh, look, Oaksey, I had your name down here all along. It's just I've spelled it MacMillan.
Fletcher:
You're in the team, so don't quibble about who else is in the team.
Banyard:
I don't know why you kowtow to that man, Grout.
Fletcher:
I know you don't, Mr Banyard. That's why your nose looks like it does.
Fletcher:
Well, you know what they say. Nothing dentured nothing gained.
Bunny Warren:
[talking about the celebrity team] I heard Rod Stewart was coming
Callaghan:
Is that likely? He's a tax exile.
Wellings:
Who gives a monkeys, we're getting double rations.
Mackay:
You're an unlikely choice as trainer, Fletcher.
Fletcher:
Well, it was the lads what decided it.
Mackay:
Yet you've always struck me as a man who despises physical activity.
Fletcher:
Oh, not in others sir.
Mr Beal:
I used to play a bit. In goal.
Fletcher:
Oh, yeah. I can just see you as custodian, sir.
Fletcher:
Who are all these people, sir? I mean, me and the lads was given to understand that there would be a fair smattering of celebrities.
Mackay:
See that red-haired man? Tells the weather on Anglia TV. And there's a pair of script writers for someone quite famous, and Mr Bainbridge himself has just finished a season at the Al Hambra Swansea.
Fletcher:
I'll tell the lads. They'll be right chuffed.
Bunny Warren:
Who are they, Fletch?
Fletcher:
A weather man, eight small parts and a widow twanky, now go and get changed.
Fletcher:
Morning, Atkinson. Sleeping better are we?
Atkinson:
I slept like a top 'til some stupid cretin started shouting.
Samson:
Oi, Fletcher.
Harry Grout:
There'll be something for you in your Christmas stocking, Fletcher.
Fletcher:
Oh, thank you sir. I'll look forward to that, sir.
Godber:
I can't understand why Mackay hasn't come down on us like a pile of bricks.
Fletcher:
'Cause he lost something in the kitchen today, that's why.
Godber:
What? Pride, you mean?
Fletcher:
Nah, something else. Shift.
Godber:
Why?
Fletcher:
It's hidden in your mattress.
Godber:
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Oh, I see, so if we get a search I'm the one who gets the blame.
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Fletcher:
Oh, yes, oh, yes, oh, yes.
Godber:
You think of everything, you do.
Fletcher:
I try.
Governor:
[discussing who may be on the celebrity football team] What about that man, Jimmy Tarbrush?
Mackay:
Buck, sir.
Governor:
Yes. Buck Tarbrush.
Mackay:
No, sir.
Governor:
Oh.
[he and Mackay leave]
Fletcher:
Buck Tarbrush. We'll be lucky to get Basil Brush.
Ives:
I didn't know Samson and Delilah ate millet.
Governor:
You're saying Oakes forced you down the delivery hatch?
Fletcher:
At gunpoint, sir. Well, he had to do something or we would have blown the whistle on him. We'd have gone to see Mr Mackay who happened to have the whistle at the time.
Mackay:
I'm going to book you for that.
Cooper:
You what?
Mackay:
What's your name, Cooper?
Cooper:
[pause] Cooper.
Bainbridge:
I bet if we'd brought Michael Parkinson or the Goodies you wouldn't have held *them* for questioning.
Mr Barrowclough:
Probably not. But then you didn't, did you?
Mr Beal:
Mind if I cadge a lift?
Mr Barrowclough:
Oh, well, we're not...
Mr Beal:
I've just been posted here.
Mr Barrowclough:
Oh, a brother officer.
Mr Beal:
Saves me the cab fare.
Mr Barrowclough:
Aye, well, I'd still claim for it, though.
Fletcher:
Good morning Mr Mackay, Mr Beal.
Mr Beal:
How'd you know my name?
Fletcher:
Oh word gets around sir, doesn't take long. I bet you're already a legend on some bog walls.
Fletcher:
[talking to Rudge in the bathrooms] Oh, one more thing. Don't hang about in 'ere too long. Ambush Alley they call this - not a safe place in the nick. You get 'em all in 'ere, homosexuals, transvestites, the lot. I tell ya, when someone just comes in 'ere, sits down and gets on with it, it's like a breath of fresh air.
Mackay:
[During the football game Godber jumps up to head the ball, instead he misses, falls backwards and bangs his head on the goalpost causing him to fall over]
[MacKay holds up one finger]
Mackay:
How many fingers am I holding up?
Godber:
You can't fool me sir, five.
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