Iris Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the Iris script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the Judi Dench and Kate Winslet as Iris Murdoch movie, co-starring Jim Broadbent.  This script is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of Iris. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and I'll be eternally tweaking it, so if you have any corrections, feel free to drop me a line. You won't hurt my feelings. Honest.

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Iris Script

             I want you to come quick.

            Don't go!


            Iris, w-wait for me!

            Just keep tight hold of me, and it'll be all right!

            You won't keep still!

            I "can't" keep still!

            I can't catch up with you!

             Speed up!



            Iris, you've got bicycle oil on your ankle.

            - I don't care, John. - Oh.

             Those of you,  our guests,

            on whose magnificent generosity we depend...

            we really are most frightfully grateful...

            will need no introduction

            to one of our most distinguished graduates

            and an honourary fellow, Dame Iris Murdoch.

            She's a noted philosopher

            as well as author of some    novels,

            and we are honoured to have her with us today,

            as well as the distinguished Wharton professor of literature,

            who has the great good fortune of being married to her.

            I need to say no more about her for good wine needs no bush.

            But she will not mind comparison

            with, say, a really fine vintage Claret.

            Dame Iris will speak to you

            about the importance of education.

            Education doesn't make you happy,

            and nor does freedom.

            We don't become happy just because we're free, if we are,

            or because we've been educated, if we have,

            but because education may be the means

            by which we realise we are happy.

             It opens our eyes,  our ears...

            tells us where delights are lurking...

            convinces us that there is only one freedom

            of any importance whatsoever... that of the mind...

             and gives us the assurance,

            the confidence, to walk the path our mind...

            our educated mind... offers.

                I shall tell him  all my love  

               All my soul's adoration  

               And I think he will hear me  

               And will not say me nay  

               It is this  that gives my soul  

               All its joyous elation  

               As I hear  the sweet lark sing  

               In the clear air  of the day   

             Yes, of course,  there's something fishy

            about describing people's feelings.

            You try hard to be accurate, but as soon as you

            start to define such and such a feeling, language lets you down.

             It's really a machine  for making falsehoods.

             When we really speak the truth,  words are insufficient.

            Almost everything except things like "pass the gravy"

            is a lie of a sort.

            And that being the case, I shall shut up.

            Oh, and... pass the gravy.

             But love,  which is unsatisfying...

             and real love... extreme  love... once it's recognised...

            has the stamp of the indubitable...

             Ah, John. I may call  you John, mayn't I?  Meet Miss Murdoch.

             Iris, my dear, John Bayley,  one of the more promising

             young lecturers  in the English school.

             Though I called him out over Old-English grammar,

               his weaker side, I fear,

               a minor question of  Anglo-Saxon syntax.


              I mean, went down the wrong way.

              Yes, I like that.

              There is a right way down, of course.

              Amazing how most of us find it without even thinking about it.

              Oh, I-I r-rarely think.

              If you think about it, you'll never find it.

              Best thing to do is hang on and trust the body.

              I do.

               Human beings  love each other...

               in sex, in friendship,  and when they're in love.

               And they cherish  other beings...

              humans, animals, plants, even stones.

              The quest for happiness and the promotion of happiness

              is in all of this

              and the power of our imagination.

              I'm writing a n-novel.

              I don't suppose you have the time or the inclination

              to even r-r-read a n-novel.

              I've written one. It's going to be published.

              And I'm writing another.

              Oh. C-C-Can I... can I read it?

              No one has read it. None of my friends.

              What's it about?


              It has something for everyone.

              A b-bit like Shakespeare?

              Perhaps, yes.

              Please don't talk to anyone about it.


              Of c-course not.

              I-I-I w-won't t-tell a soul.

               Every human soul has seen,

               perhaps even before  their birth,

               pure forms such as justice,  temperance, beauty,

              and all the great moral qualities

              which we hold in honour.

              We are moved towards what is good

              by the faint memory of these forms,

              simple and calm and blessed,

              which we saw once in a pure, clear light

              being pure ourselves.

              Whole grain.

              Do we have whole grain or something other?

              What is "whole"?

              Is it something in itself or does it have parts?

               Oh, spaghetti.

               If you have a whole,  you have a whole.

              Ooh, sausages. You and me is a whole.

              If you toddle off, there's a hole in the whole, or if I do.

              But a whole can't be broken. It just forms another whole.

              - Baked beans. - Baked beans!

              Do you want premium points?

              Do we deserve them?

               Do you want bags?

              Bags, yes. You know, it's all around us...

              People like you and me talking nonsense.

              I know. I know.

              Bag for life?

              For life?

              That's what it says.

              We have to ask... give you the choice.

              Ooh, rather.

              You just have to listen... That's the job.

              You call it a job, but it's like music, what you do.

              You live with the angels, speak their language...

              the music of the spheres.

              Nowadays, the only language anyone really understands is pictures.

               Paint the picture.

              See, now I'm bagged for life.

              Love's the only language everyone understands.

               Ooh, love, yes.

              I can read it, but I can't speak it.

              Mmm! Ooh.

               My coat's  caught on your chair.


              And the captain said of the two weevils

              who dropped out of a biscuit,

              "Which would you rather have, Mr. Smith?"

              - "The bigger one, sir."  - "Wrong, Mr. Smith, wrong."

               "In the Navy,  you should always choose

              the lesser of the two 'weevils'."

              Patrick O'Brian... "Between two evils,

              always choose the one you haven't tried before."

              Mae West..."Oh, my vest! I tore my vest again this morning."

              You must get some new vests.

              Jolly good.

              You must get some new vests.

              I just said that.

              You're always saying that... That you just said something. Me too.

               Good job. You reminded me  I had two lectures today.

              You remembered.

               No, but I remembered to  apologize for the one I forgot.

              They were very sweet about it.

              Glad not to have to listen to you, I expect.

              Oh, I'm sure. They'd have been delighted to have listened to you.

              I always have been.




              Thank you. Keep the change.

              Janet! Janet!

              Oh, my God, Iris!

              Am I late?

              Don't be silly.

              Oh, no, it's the hokeycokey. Everything'll be over.

              John, wait.

              Oh, dear.

              Oops. Sorry.




              Ch... ooh!


              - Thank you! - You too!

              That was my husband.


              Are you with Iris?

              H-H-Hoping so.

              - You know, we have... - I-I thought we had.

              - Nearly met. - A-Are you a friend of Iris?


              She seems to have a lot of...

                 Do do do-do do do   

              Janet Stone, John Bayley.

              How do you do?

              H-How do you do?

              Shall we?

              What are your rooms like?

              A-Adequate, thank you.

              - I'd like to see them. - Oh.

              Do you... do you have a lot of friends?

              Is a list of my friends necessary?

              I-I just wondered if you had many.

              There aren't many people that one wants to know one. Do you...




              Y-You might fall.

              W-Would you like some more c-champagne?

              That would be nice.

              I-I've had some s-since Christmas.

              It does keep, doesn't it?

              I-I s-s-shouldn't be doing this.

              - What? - H-having women in my r-room.

              It's... it's not p-permitted.

              I wouldn't say you "had me" exactly.

              Have you danced before?

              It was a-all right, wasn't it?

              Oh, I think so.

              I-It b-b-broke the ice, so to speak.

              - Ice. - What?

              Oh! Oh, it'll do.

              Aren't you particular about words at your college?

              I-I-I'm only here on a s-s-sufferance, really,

               as a-a tutor and guide.

              I-I get all the Americans and Frenchmen to m-mother.

              You love words, don't you?

              If one doesn't have words, how does one think?

              S-Shall I do that?

              W-What... what is your n-n-n-novel about?


              How to be free. How to be good.


              And how to love.

              Well, that's all... a-all there is, I'd say.

              Well, l-language is all v-very well, you know,

              but it's not the only way of understanding each other.

              There's... t-there's sight and...

              and smell and... and... a-and touch, of course.

              I-I l-love your nose.

              It's snub.


              S-snubby, snubby.

              Snubby, snubby, snubby.

              L-Let me do that to you. Take off your jacket.

              I-If we were, a-as it were, m-married,

              w-we could d-do this all the time... perhaps.

              We should be doing it nearly all the time.

              Yes, but i-if...

              Thank you.



              You stopped with your working.

              Yes, well, I don't mind.

              How's it coming along?

              It's harder to write than all the others... much.

              Have you noticed?

              Just that you've seemed... puzzled every now and again.

              That's it, yes.


              Puzz... pu...

              Puzzled. It's a funny word.

              All words are like that when you take them by surprise, aren't they?

               Have you got a title?

              A lot of trees seem near.

              We must stop it.

              What to do? What to do?

              The window, John. The window!

              We must stop it!

              No, see?

               It's gone.

              We all worry about going mad, don't we?

               How would we know...

              those of us who live in our minds anyway?

              Other people would tell us.

              Would they, John?


                  I don't want to set  the world on fire  

              John Bayley.

                 I just want to start  a flame in your heart  

                 In my heart  I have but one desire...   

              I haven't seen her for ages.

              Oh, j-jolly good. Nice.

              Takes all sorts.

              N-Not that I...

               We're all... we're all  m-men at St. Anthony's.

              Do... do you like women?

              I-I mean, do... do w-w-women like you?

              You mean lesbians?


              Would it bother you if they did?

               Oh, the s-same thing  happens with me...

              with h-h-homosexuals, I mean.

              And do you go to bed with them?

              Lord, no.

              At the college, somebody once said to me,

              "Old-fashioned lesbians of the very highest type."

              And... and d-do... do you go to bed with them?

              Tsk. Wh...

              Dame Iris.

              It's this way.

               She's written philosophy  and plays and poetry,

              but her novels are her lasting literary legacy.

              Iris Murdoch is acknowledged as the foremost English novelist

               of her generation.

              A little excessive, don't you think?

               What do you reckon?  Shall I take that again?

               Her novels embrace  the subjects of freedom

               and what it means to be good.

              Dame Iris?

               ... in the successes  and failures of love.

               She's written philosophy  and plays and poetry,

               but her novels are her  lasting literary legacy.

               People, of course,  are very secretive.

               And, for many reasons, want to  appear what we call ordinary.

               Everybody has thoughts  they want to conceal...

              perhaps even quite simple aspects of their lives.

              People have obsessions and fears and passions

              which they don't admit to.

               I think any character is  interesting and has extremes.

              It's the novelist's privilege to see how odd everyone is.

               In your novels,  you yourself are very exact

              in your use of language.

              But in general terms, do you think that language

              is becoming debased?

              Reading and writing

              and the preservation of language and its forms

              and the kind of eloquence and the kind of beauty

              that language is capable of

              is something terribly important to human beings

              because... this is connected to thought.

              If children are not taught...

              W-What did you say? D-Did you ask...

              I was asking about the importance of language.



               - John? John? - Iris?


              - Oh, you're there. - What is it?

              I'm back.

              M-Much earlier than I thought.

              Yes, I came straight back. I didn't know why I was there.

              You were going to do an interview.

              - What interview? - I don't know.

              So, um...

              And see your publisher?

              Was it your publisher?

              So I came back.

              I didn't expect you back for ages.

              - Has she rung? - I didn't answer.

              It was Nora!

              Iris, Nora's dead.

              Oh, so she is. Oh, that is sad.

               Oh, well, never mind.

              Must have been Ed.

              What for? Oh, yes, my book.

               Oh, so I came back.

               What is, uh...

              the name of the Prime Minister?

              Oh, me? Are you asking me?

              Yes, I am.

              I know.

              Okay, what is the name of the Prime Minister?

              I don't know. Ask John. Surely it doesn't matter.

              Okay, well, no, not really.

              Someone will know.

              Who would you like to see?

               I mean,  is there anyone...

               I don't know.

               Shall I look up some names?  Talk to someone?

               I've got a lot of ideas,  but they won't come together.

              It happens all the time... forgetting names.

              So, does it happen all the time?

               I mean, you know, does  she mean writer's block?  I suppose she does, but...

               Iris can always write,  doctor. This is...

               - Oh, I know.  - Iris is a person...

               Yes, yes, but  it doesn't work like...

               Surely in  her case... A-A woman  with a f-first-class mind.

               We will  have to be certain.

               There'll have to be  tests, scans.

               I don't think I can...

               I mean, it's a little  beyond my competence.

               Iris finds her new book  v-very tiring and difficult.

               Basically, I'll  arrange something.

               Iris has  a very clear mind.

               Mine's a muddle,  but not hers.

               She does everything...  always has.

              Food, shopping, tickets for things.

              I-I never know how she m-m-manages

              and does her b-books as well.

              Well, they can get you help.

              N-No, no, no, no, n-nobody would suit.

              There's a very good place...

               a specialist nursing home...  Vale House.

               - Not necessary.  - Not yet.

               - I'm sorry.  - N-N-Not your fault.

               Well, uh... take care.

               Goodbye, doctor.  Thank you.



              I'm sure the country won't go to the dogs.

              Not knowing the Prime Minister's name's not a capital offence.


              I know the names that matter.

              It'll be all right.

              Well, it will be if you stop worrying.

              I've got a book to finish.

              Oh, Tony Blair... so there.

              Iris, are you comfortable?

              I'm going to start the scan now.

               Just keep  nice and still.

               Try to relax.

               It'll take  about    minutes.


               I'm very sorry.

              Is Iris still... I'm so sorry I'm late.

              I don't know what's going to happen, Janet.

              I've left the car outside. The engine's running.

              - Won't be a mo. - Right.

              - See you out there. - Yes.

              John, I'm frightened.

              Everyone's doing their best.

              Janet's got the car.

              It'll be...

              - It's done. - You're finished?

              I thought you were c-close.

              So far, but it hasn't made any difference.

              Here's to it.

              Just try and keep working.

              - You must.  - I will.

              And here's to the next one.

              Just keep working, keep talking, keep the words coming.

              K-Keep at it.

              I shall come more like a deprived animal

              if I can't write... be like a starved dog.

              No. Keep at it. I'll keep you at it.

              I feel...

              as if I'm sailing into darkness.

               A... sinuituis.

               An... i... mal.



               Uh, no.



              P... no.

              Tennis thing.


              Iris is getting t-tired, I'm afraid.


              Can we have the blinds?

              Dame Iris, thank you very much.

              Thank you.

              Well done, puss.

              Dame Iris, thank you very much indeed.

               It was so kind of you  to come, Dame Iris.

              Thank you. I like it. Thank you very much.

              Is it any help?

              What, to us? Yes.

               It's... implacable.

              What does that mean?

              It means inexorable.

              I know what the word means...

              um, to me... to us.

              You see, words have meant everything to her.

               They will still mean  something... some thought.

              It can't just be dead b-birds dropping.

              I know what it means, and it doesn't surprise me.

              It frightens me, but...

              And then sometimes, it doesn't frighten me,

              and that's just as bad,

              because that's it winning, isn't it?

              N-N-No, no. No, it's n-not.

              It won't win.

              It "will" win.

              There. It will win.

               That's very kind.



              Iris, wait for me!

              Just keep tight hold of me, and it'll be all right!

              You won't keep still!

              I "can't" keep still!

              I can't catch up with you!

               Speed up!



              Oh, good morning.

              Oh. No.

              Uh... I...

              I think it's the...

              person who brings the posts, John.

              - Yes, it is. - Yes.

              John? So sorry.

              Thank you very much indeed.

              Thank you.

              So sorry.

              There. There.

              Go on.

              Go on, go on, go on, go on, go on.

              It's only the postman.

              It's only the postman.

              Don't repeat everything, puss.

              It's only the postman.

              It's for you! It's your book!

              What's that?

              Your book!

              It's only the postman.

              It's your book!

               Isn't it  perfectly splendid?

              Well, why don't you look at it?

              It's only the postman.


              Stop nudging up to me like a water buffalo.

              I have a lot to do. Lots to do, Iris.

              See what I've done now?

              It's not your fault. Not your fault.

              Sorry. Sorry.

              It's only the postman.

              Yes, all right! It's only the postman!

              Sorry. So sorry. There's lots to do.

              Which side do I go?

               Ask me my three main priorities  for government,

               and I tell you... Education,  education, and education.

              John! John! Why does he keep saying that?

              - What does he mean? - By what?

              "Education, education, education."

              H-He means learning.

              Everyone g-getting enough of it.

              Why does he keep saying it?

              Politicians have to keep repeating things

              to make themselves heard.

              They have to be like travellers

              eating sheep's eyes with B-Bedouins.

              They have to do anything to make themselves liked.

              Why does he want to eat a sheep's ear?

              - Shall I turn it off? - No.

              We could go for a swim tomorrow if it's n-not raining.

              - No. - Yes. You love water.

              When you swim, you love it.

              Swim... swim is good for you.

              When are we leaving?

              Not today.

              Are we going to London?

              No, we're going for a swim.

              When are we leaving?

              Not today.

              When are we leaving?

              Iris... Iris, wait for me.

               You dirty old man.


               There we go.

               No, Iris,  not with your socks on.

               Your socks!


              Look. Look. Look.

              Come along.

              Come on, come on, come along.

              Go on.



               Oh, yeah?


               Give me your hand.  Give me your hand.

              That's it. Give me your hand. Give me your hand.

              No, no, don't... Don't pull me in!

              You're all right. I won't let you go.

              Let's get you dry. You're all right.

              Come on. Here. Up your hands.

              Up your hands. Let's get you warm.

              That's it. That's it.

               Come on. That's it.

              No, Iris. Iris!

              Just put your... Like this, up high. Up.

              - Let's go now. - Let's get your head through.

              - As soon as you got your head in. - Let's go now!

              - Iris, as soon as we've got your head in! - No. No.

              Iris! As soon as we've got... Come on.

              - Let's go now! - Come on, put your head down.

               Where's my petticoat?

              - Here. - Ah.

              Are you sure he's expecting me?


              I brought John. You said I might.

              Did I? And did you say you would?

              Yes. Well, come in.

              - Maurice Charlton. - J-John Bayley.

               Isn't it hot?

              Yes, it is.

              I've got just the thing will cool.

              I imagine your friend Maurice

              is hoping to have his wicked will, is he?

               Not today is he.

              You and I are much the same age, aren't we, John?

              Yeah, I-I think so.

              Does it matter?


               This is not important,  i-is it?

              What Maurice means is that most of my real...

              my "other" friends are older than me.

               Much older.

              Yes, and there's a very good reason for that,

              isn't there?

              Is there? What?

              She likes people with a bit of a past.

              She uses them... don't you?

              No, I don't.

              For your novel. Don't you, Iris?

              - I-I haven't read it. - Haven't you?

              Neither have you, Maurice, so don't play games.

              Nobody has read it.

              The gentle lady hasn't yet bestowed her favour on anyone.

              I-Iris doesn't like to talk about it.

              I know that, too, Iris.

              That's because it's full of people she knows...

              All these masters of thought you're so chummy with.

              Bound to be. We all know.

              Isn't it, Iris?

              No, it isn't, but you can think what you like.

              You know nothing about it. Nobody knows but me.

              And... I'm not telling.

               I thought  it was a secret.

               I mean, I know Iris  doesn't want it talked about.

              Come on, Iris.

              I'm sure we'll all recognise ourselves.

              I don't see how you... anyone... can.

              They won't. T-T-They won't.

              I hate that sort of thing. I won't ever do it.

              I don't see the point of writing a novel that's autobiography.

              There's no fun in that.

              T-They won't see themselves, you know?

              D-Don't people w-written about in novels

              always s-see themselves differently?

              I'm sure they do.

              W-Who was it who said,

              "You can use anyone you like in a novel

              as long as you drop it in somewhere that they're good in bed

              e-even though... ...they might not be?"

              Evelyn Waugh.

              "And so to bed"... Samuel Pepys.

              So, have you granted your favour to John?

               Told him  who's in the novel?

              We h-have other things to talk about.

               No one has read  my novel...

              no one but the publisher.

              It doesn't matter.

              Well, it does matter. I-I f-feel let down.

              Am I not a part,

              s-some s-small p-part of your life?

              You were very gallant.

              V-Very stupid.

              No, John.

              Will you come in?

               Have you been  e-entertaining?


              All these people.

              And to think I chose you, well...

              Obvious lack of...

              I mean, I thought that I fought no competition.

              What's this?

              A friend made it.

              Oh, is she a c-cook, your friend?

              No, he's a philosopher,

              but his real interests are cooking and telephones.

              I'd like you to read this.

              I was rather afraid you might not like it.

              T-Thank you.

              I value your opinion.

              Perhaps it's time we made love.


              Yes. That's what I thought.

              Have you got a French letter?

              A rubber thingy.

              Oh. Lord, no.


              We'll just have to be careful.

              I-I don't... don't exactly...

              It will be easier if you take your trousers off.

              Yes. Yes, of course.

              I've never...

              I'm a r-rather late s-starter.

               My brother used to have to  t-tie my shoelaces for me

              till I was  .

              I-I-I don't know if...

              I do.

              It'll all go...


              - Oh! - Jump!

               Aah! Help!

               No! No! No!

               No, no, no, no!

              No, Iris! Iris! Iris! Iris!

              No! No!

              No! No! No!

              No! No, help!


              I'm trying to help you!

              S-S-S-So sorry.

              Please, don't, Iris.

              You have n-nothing to be sorry about.

               It would be unfair,  and I couldn't bear it.

              We should be saying s-sorry to you...

              and n-not just sorry, but...

              S-Shall I read to you?

              Shall I?

              "Occupied in observing Mr. Bingley's attentions to her sister,

              Elizabeth was far from suspecting

              that she was herself b-becoming an object of some interest

              in the eyes of his friend."

               "Mr. Darcy had at first  scarcely allowed her  to be pretty."

              I... wrote.

              Yes, my darling, clever cat.

              You wrote books.

              Books... I wrote.

              You wrote novels... Wonderful novels.

              I wrote.

              Such things you wrote...

              Special things... secret things.

              Do you know many secrets now, Iris?

               You have shown me a map  of Iris' b-brain world, empty,

               and tell me that  its hidden mysteries

               and all the unknown life  in there has gone,

               has been wiped.

              How, then, can she say things of such a terrible lucidity?

              Which bitterly empty jungle does that come from?

              We don't know.

              Not we. You... "you" don't know.

              D-Don't hide, please.

              Is it not r-remotely possible

              that what Iris says is of some c-consequence, yes?

              Yes, perhaps.

              So, perhaps, we ought to l-learn her language

              before the lights go out.

              The lights will go out.

              Yes, of course, they will.

              You all keep telling me... us... that.

              I know that. She may even know that herself.


               I'm sure  you could write it.

               Just get one word down.  Persevere.

               Iris, your notebook!

              No, wait!

              No, no, no, no. Come. Come.

              That's it. There.

              Come on. Come on.

              You walk...

              you read...

              paddle in the sea...

              ...then you'll write.

              Be just like the old days.


              Iris... Mama.

               Look who's here,  Iris.

              Look who's here. Hello. Hello.



              Yes, Iris... sea.

              I thought we'd walk to calm her down a bit.

              She has an idea for a novel.

              Hello, Iris.

              - Hello, Iris. - Hello, Iris.

              Talk to her, Janet.

              Hello, Iris.

              Sea's a bit cold for swimming.

              Stay as long as you like. There's plenty of room.

              You're not to worry.

              Oh, we don't want to be a nui...

              No, you're not.

              She's as much of a mom as anyone.

              Give her a bit of a rest.

              Can't rush around these days, John... Tummy trouble.

              - Is she ill? - She gets tired easily.

              She's really not...

              What do we do?

              We just talk to her, say things to her

              that she can write... she can, you know?

              It's all right, is it, John?

              You know, it'll get better

              as you get to know each other better.

              I-Iris has got more than one world

              going on inside her head... a secret world.

              Until another book comes out.

              I'm the only friend that knows of her secret world.

              Oh, John.

               No, no. It's like living  in a fairy story.

              I'm the young man in love with a beautiful maiden

              who disappears into an unknown and mysterious world

              every now and again,

              who always comes back.

               Iris! Look!


               Look! He's got  his clothes on!

               He's got his clothes on!

               He's got his clothes on!

              He's got his clothes on.

               He's got his clothes on.

              Seems very sensible to me.

              Janet, are you all right?

              I'm absolutely fine, John. I'm fine.

              I thought I'd get her to sign this.

              Anything... anything is fine.

              Just get her to write.

               Does she know anything  about her past...

              her career, work, friends?

              S-Something of a c-closed book,

              but it's there. I know it.

               Oh, they look  wonderful.

              Well done, puss.

              Good to see your book so well received, Iris.

              Yes, wasn't it?

              You thought you'd never finish it, didn't you?

              I read her the reviews.

              I read you the reviews, Iris.

               You hated me doing it  before.

              Would you sign your new book for me, Iris?

              Like postcards, do it at once, or you don't.


              I see an angel.

               I think it's you.

                  De nos amours  

                 Que reste-t-il...   

               They're under water now.

              There are some drugs, aren't there, Iris?

               They don't last long.

               When the f-friendly f-fog  disperses,

              there yawns the precipice before you, doesn't it, puss?

              They're beautiful.

               Horrible, isn't it?  Horrible.

              Horrible thing,

              you there with your toes at the edge of the precipice.

               You can say  anything you like

              as long as you m-make it sound like a j-joke.

              Oh, don't, John. That's cruel.

               That's where you're wrong.

              It's not cruel, it's nothing, because it's not understood.

               She's in her own world now.

              It's perhaps what she's always wanted.

                 ... Et dans un nuage  le cher visage  

                 De mon passe  

              Come on.

              Let's go in.

                 Que reste-t-il  de nos amours  

                 Que reste-t-il  de ces beaux jours  

                 Une photo, vieille photo  

                 De ma jeunesse  

                 Que reste-t-il  des billets doux  

              When do we go?

                 Des mois d'avril,  des rendez-vous  

                 Un souvenir  qui me poursuit  

                 Sans cesse  

                 Bonheur fane,  cheveux au vent  

                 Baisers voles,  reves mouvants  

                 Que reste-t-il  de tout cela  


                 Un petit village,  un vieux clocher  

                 Un paysage si bien cache  

                 Et dans un nuage  le cher visage...   

              Chin up, John.


              Yes, puss. Yes.

              Going, going.

              Now you go.

              Soon. We'll... we'll go soon.

              Now. Now.

              Who is it?

              Who is it?

               Hello? Hello?

               Are you there?

              Where this?

                  Soars, enchanted  

                 I hear  the sweet lark sing...  

                 How much is that doggie  in the window?  

                 The one  with the waggly tail  

                 How much is that doggie  in the window?  

                 I do hope that doggie's  for sale   

              Bravo! Bravo!

              Another! Another!

              Sing your mother's song!

               Sing your mother's song.

                  My soul's adoration  

                 And I think you hear me  

                 Soars, enchanted  

                 I hear  the sweet lark sing  

                 Da-da-dee-dee  of the day  

                 It is this  that gives my soul  

                 All its joyous elation  

                 As I hear  the sweet lark sing  

                 In the clear air  of the day...  

                 Dear thoughts  are in my mind  

                 And my soul soars,  enchanted  

                 As I hear  the sweet lark sing  

                 In the clear air  of the day  

                 For a tender  beaming smile  

                 To my hope  has been granted  

                 And tomorrow  he shall hear  

                 All my fond heart  can say...  

                 I hear the sweet lark  sing in the...  

              Come, gentlemen.

              You shall have to do better than this.

              Aren't you a bad cat?

                 And tomorrow  he shall hear  

                 All my fond heart  can say   



              Good morning. Oh, thank you.

              - Okay. Bye. - Bye.

              It's only the postman.

               - Time...  ...for Teletubbies.

               - Time...  ...for Teletubbies.

               - Time...  ...for Teletubbies.

               -    Tinky winky    -   Tinky winky  

              - Eh-oh.  -   Eh-oh  


              It's only the postman.

              It's only the postman.


              It's only the postman.

              It's only the postman.

                 Tinky winky  






               Where have  the Teletubbies gone?

               Remember Proteus!

              - What about Proteus? - I'm like Proteus.

              You've got to keep hold of me the way Hercules kept hold of him,

              even though he changed into a lion... and a fish... and a snake.


               I-I-I'm worried  about the r-river.

               We swim.

              You never know, sir.

              I have, of c-course, looked everywhere here already.

               Everything you do...

               everything you say,  write...

               you do it superbly...

               and you're always going to,  all your life...

               Whatever you turn  your hand to. I-I know it.

              A-And I know you must feel

              that I d-don't belong in your world.

              I don't.

               Ahh! Ahh!  Where?

              Between the soup and the baked beans.

              Oh, thank you. Thank you so much.

              I caught her before she got to the checkout.

              She's been g-gone for hours.

              I thought I'd never see her again... n-never.

              Well, all is well, then.

              Please, d-do tell me your name.

              I'm Maurice, John.

              Iris' friend.

              I was a witness at your wedding.


              Well, I'm late for a meeting.

              M-Maurice. S-So sorry.

              So sorry.

              W-Were you trying to get away from me?

              D-Did you want to leave me, Iris?


                 I-I f-feel as if I don't  know anything about you!

                 When you know everything  about me, then I'll be dead.

                He's a professor of ancient history.

                They have a m-malign influence on you, I think.

                They all have... all your friends.

                He's a teacher. A master of thought.

                Oh, you two talk, do you? Y-You master thoughts together?

                We make love, yes, but that's not the important thing.

                Then he goes home to his wife in London.

                Does it frighten you?

                I f-feel that I'm just s-standing in a long line

                of suitors waiting for a kind word.

                I always give you a kind word.

                You must accept me as I am.

                And I'm to be kept in my box o-or not kept at all?

                Nothing matters except loving what is good.

                Am I good?


                 keep tight hold of me,  and it'll be all right.

                Who are you with now, Iris?!

                 Who is it?!

                We're lost!

                We're lost! We're lost!

                We're lost!

                We're lost! We're lost! We're lost!

                There's no reason for this!

                And if there is, I don't know it!

                I hate you, Iris, you stupid cow!

                I bloody loathe you...

                every bloody inch of you!

                All your friends are finished with you!

                I've got you now!

                Nobody else has you anymore

                except your fucking best friend, Dr. Fucking Alzheimer

                with all his fucking gifts!

                I've got you now, and I don't want you!

                I've never known anything about you at all,

                and now I don't care!

                Ohh. Ohh.

                 I think  it's time I told you

                about some of my friends...

                the people in my past,

                of my heart and... and not.

                Oh, dear.

                Ought I to t-take notes?

                There was a friend who was a student with me.

                No, he can wait.

                He was not the first person I went to bed with.

                That was Harry.

                Then there was Roger, who wanted to marry me.

                 And Oscar, who said  he couldn't live without me.

                 And Tom...

                 who far too clearly could,  but...

                So, the student friend I had resisted going to bed with

                joined the Army during the war

                and promptly asked me to marry him for...

                he was certain he was going to be killed

                and wanted me to have the widow's pension.

                 Yes, I know.  They all said that.


                I didn't want to marry him...

                but I did go to bed with him.

                I... I thought that best before he went off to fight

                because you never know.

                Anyway, he w... he was killed, my student friend,

                 and we weren't married...

                 so no pension.


                I-It wouldn't have been much, anyway, I know,

                because I had friends killed.

                Their wives got very little... Get v-very little.

                Is that all... I-I mean, roughly?

                What about the f-friends in your other world?

                You know more about me than anyone on earth.

                You are my world.

                Thank you.

                A-After all that,

                I r-rather hoped it might be time for me to get my kind word.

                 You don't need to do it  on your own.

                 Vale House is very good.

                 No, no, no, no, no.

                You're exhausted, you know that.

                Of course I am! It's something that we share!

                We're in a s-state of g-grace.

                I think we understand each other.

                What do you think?

                I don't know.

                There's always help if you need it.

                Isn't there any help for her?

                What? Sorry?

                - Sorry? - Nothing.

                 Janet's dead, Iris.

                They want me to say a few words, but I can't think of any.

                No, no. No, Janet...

                Janet's dead, Iris.

                 I m-miss Janet very much.

                I m-miss Janet

                because I used to store up funny things to tell her

                had happened to us...

                things I could no longer tell Iris.

                 Another friend visited us  in Oxford overnight, recently,

                and I found her cleaning the bath.

                I said, "Oh, please, t-t-there's no need."

                She said, "Oh, yes, there is. I want to take a bath."

                 I was hoping to be able  to tell Janet that story.

                 S-She would have enjoyed it.

                S-She would've laughed...

                I mean, I think.

                Anna Karenina... Tolstoy, you know...

                went on her way to the station

                to throw herself under a train...

                sees something funny

                which she thinks to tell Vronsky, her lover, about.

                 We all do it.

                 I do it with Iris and Janet...  all our friends.

                But then, Anna thought,

                that she wouldn't be seeing Vronsky again

                because she was about to kill herself.

                Y-You don't want to hear this.

                Janet didn't kill herself.

                But if there's one thing that would have prevented Anna

                from t-throwing herself under a train,

                that would be it...

                the... the thought of t-telling something funny

                to t-the man she loves.

                Well, t-the love is over.


                life will...

                soon be over.

                 That's all.

                Goodbye, Janet.

                No! No! Janet!

                Jan... Janet! Janet!

                - It's all right, Iris. - Janet! Janet!

                Help! Help! Help me!

                Help me!

                Calm down. Calm down. Calm down.


                Wrong! Wrong!

                No, Iris! Stop it, Iris!

                Wrong driving!

                Stop it, Iris!

                No! Not house!

                No! No!

                Them! Them!

                Them! Them!



                Puss! My old mouse!

                My old cat-mouse! Where are you?!






                Oh, little mouse!

                I know you do.

                I used to be so afraid of being alone with you.

                Now I can't be without you.

                Let's get us home.

                And then there will be tomorrow...

                and the next day...

                and the next...

                and on we go.


                Closer and closest together.

                Oh, your ring.

                It's so worn now.

                 Where did you get it?

                From a pawn broker's.

                I like things that are worn down...

                Just wear, wear, wear...

                until they go.

                 We've, uh,  had a bit of luck.

                 The usual thing, I'm afraid...  Somebody's died.


                D-D-Do you have a smile for Dr. Gudgeon?




                the time has come.

                You knew it would, Professor Bayley.


                She d-didn't have a smile for you today.


                Well, we must make a start.

                - What d-do I do? - Nothing anymore.

                Vale House is a very friendly place.

                I was surprised...

                Well, I mean, this is one of the best...

                More difficult to get into than, well, Eton.

                 Taxi for Vale House.


                The lady's on the s-stairs, but I can't get her down.

                 Shall I?

                Y'all right, my love?

                 We're goin'  for a little drive.

                 That's all right,  isn't it?

                What's your name, then?


                Yes, it's Iris.

                All right, then, Iris.

                 You'll be all right,  my love.

                 Come on, upsy-daisy.

                There you go.


                 Human beings  love each other...

                 in sex, in friendship,  and when they're in love.

                And they cherish other beings...

                humans, animals, plants, even stones.

                She'll be fine, now, won't ya, Iris?

                You can visit any time you like.

                Come all day if you want to.

                Stay the night. That's all right.

                We can make arrangements for you to do that any time.

                It was s-so q-quiet...

                when she died.

                Do you know, I-I thought,

                "I wouldn't mind doing that myself?"

                I h-had a joke to tell her.

                It wasn't a very good one, but she'd have laughed.

                 We need to believe  in something divine

                without the need for God,

                something we might call love or goodness.

                 As the Psalm says,

                "Whither shall I go from thy spirit?"

                "Whither shall I flee from thy presence?"

                "If I ascend unto heaven, thou art there:

                 If I make my bed in hell,  behold, thou art there."

                "If I take the wings of the morning,

                and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea;

                even there shall thy hand lead me,

                and thy right hand shall hold me."

                    Dear thoughts  are in my mind  

                   And my soul soars,  enchanted  

                   And tomorrow he shall hear  

                   All my fond heart can say   

Special help by SergeiK