Billy Liar Page #6

Synopsis: A young British clerk in a gloomy North Country undertaker's office, Billy is bombarded daily by the propaganda of the media that all things are for the asking. This transparently false doctrine, coupled with the humdrum job and his wild imagination, leads him on frequent flights to "Ambrosia," a mythical kingdom where he is crowned king, general, lover or any idealized hero the real situation of the moment makes him desire. His vacillating commitment and post-adolescent immaturity have created situations which make Ambrosia all the more attractive. He's succeeded in becoming engaged to two different girls, simultaneously, while in love with a third, Liz. He's in hot water with his employer, having spent a rather large sum of postage money on his personal frivolities. And last, but not least, his dream of becoming a highly-paid, famous scriptwriter in London seems doomed to failure. The only person in his life capable of bringing him down to earth is Liz, and she's having a difficult t
Genre: Comedy, Drama, Romance
Director(s): John Schlesinger
Production: Continental
  Nominated for 6 BAFTA Film Awards. Another 1 nomination.
 
IMDB:
7.4
Metacritic:
82
Rotten Tomatoes:
100%
NOT RATED
Year:
1963
98 min
1,966 Views


- I'm telling you, he's not.

- I can explain all this.

- Ever since you started work.

Grumbling. If it isn't his boiled egg,

it's something else.

So what do you do?

Buy him special corn flakes.

- What if I do?

- And why?

Because there's a plastic submarine

in the packet!

Now, you just listen to me.

- He's not old enough to go to London.

- Not old enough?

He's old enough

to get into the bloody army.

- You want to get into the bloody army!

- Oh, for heaven's sake!

Hold your noise, Geoffrey.

I can't stand much more.

I've been cooking in here...

Every day it's the same.

It gets on my nerves.

Mam!

Mam, it's Gran.

I think she's had another of her do's.

Now look what you've done!

Get her tablets, Geoffrey.

Get them tablets

out of the dressing table drawer.

- Go on, go on, move!

- She was all right a minute ago.

We must get her onto the couch.

She'll be all right there.

You'll be all right, love.

You'll be all right.

Oh, come on, get out of it.

I can't wait all day for you.

Come on, Geoffrey!

Haven't you found them yet?

Oh, come on, Geoffrey!

Hurry up!

- Ee, you weigh a ton.

- Feathers.

She wants to burn some feathers,

never mind pills.

Here you are, now.

That's it. Put it in your mouth.

Come on. Have a sip.

- Is she all right?

- As all right as she'll ever be.

Oh... Well, I'll be off, then.

That's it.

- Where's he going?

- We've more to worry about than him.

Now, are you all right, love?

We have fought.

We have fought long and hard.

Now at last,

our struggle has been rewarded.

Victory is within our grasp.

I offer you nothing

but liberty, fraternity and equality.

Come on, lads!

'We will rebuild.

'Cannon and mortar

have devastated

'our drab and shoddy streets. '

'But this I pledge.

'Battalions of craftsmen

'will change the face of our cities. '

We will build towers.

Towers!

No less.

Fisher! Fisher! Fisher!

'Overshadowing all events

is the massacre at Bluebell Valley.

'General Fisher makes a pilgrimage

'to the war-scarred fields

where he himself was wounded.

'Protests are pouring

into the United Nations

'as once again a shadow falls

across the world.

'Truly, history has been made again

'and in violent fashion. '

Now then, lad.

Afternoon, Councillor.

- Well, it's a grand day for it.

- Aye.

That's been watching football, eh?

Nay, I'm just bound for a walk

over the moor.

What's tha got there, then?

Crown jewels?

No, gramophone records, LPs.

There were nowt like that

when I were a lad.

No record players.

We had to make us own music

if we wanted it.

Male voice choir we used to have.

Then there were chapel choir.

There were two chapel choirs,

because there was another chapel

down Moor Cross Road.

Ah, but they're all coming down,

all the old buildings.

Trams, they've gone.

City centre, that's all new.

Aye, you could get

a glass of beer, meat pie,

cigarettes, matches

and change out of four pence.

- Aye.

- Aye... aye.

Dost tha think

I could climb down yonder?

Nay, tha'd break thee neck.

Well, I'll have to manage it,

whether or no.

I'm going down to the police station.

- What's tha going there for?

- We're pulling it down.

- Tha's not, is tha?

- Aye, we are that.

All yon cottages and all are going.

Well, I'll be on my way now,

Councillor.

So, afternoon.

Aye.

I say...

Come here.

You're a right one

with them calendars, aren't you?

Ey, I'd have thought

tha'd more sense than that, lad.

So you're planning

to go to London, then, eh?

Aye.

I'm just about thraiped

with this place.

How do you mean?

Well, it's neither muckling

nor mickling, is it?

Art tha taking a rise

out of me, young man?

No, sir!

Well, then just talk as thy father

and mother brought thee up to talk.

I had no education.

I had to educate meself.

But that's no reason to mock me.

Now then,

I don't know what I'll do yet.

I haven't decided.

But listen,

can you take a bit of advice?

- Yes, sir.

- Now, you're a young man.

You've got a long way to go

but you can't do it by yourself.

Now, think on.

Me grandma's poorly.

Well, I'm glad to have had

the chance of a word with you.

Now, think on.

We'll be back in London in three hours

so I'll call you then, OK?

They've charged us

for four single rooms!

Only left a coat in hers.

Phone calls:

London, London, Luton...

Luton?

- Excuse me.

- Yes?

- Have you anything to do with Mr. Boon?

- I'm his manager.

I was wondering

if I could have a word with him.

- Have you got an appointment?

- I have written...

Somebody's had

4/6 worth of phone calls.

Do you know him?

Bung us a glossy.

Don't turn him away, Bertie.

I've got three gross of these to unload.

- What's your name, son?

- Billy Fisher.

"To Billy". I haven't put "with love".

People might get the wrong idea.

- Be seeing you.

- Er, no...

- I sent you some of me scripts.

- Scripts?

- You sent me some scripts?

- Yes. You wrote me a letter.

You said that I was to call

and see your manager.

Oh, did you?

And here you are, eh?

Well, so you want to be

a scriptwriter, eh, Billy?

Well, it's a great life.

It really is.

How's it going?

Sold any material yet, have you?

Well, I was hoping that

you would be able to use me,

well, in some way,

as a scriptwriter.

On. on, well, that's just it, Billy.

I don't maintain

a personal scriptwriter.

I've got enough to do

supporting these layabouts.

Of course, I'm always in the market

for individual gags.

And I pay pro rata.

Are you ever up in London?

- Now and again.

- I'll tell you what you do.

You pop in and see me at the office.

We'll have a bit of a chat.

Well, good luck, then, Billy,

and keep writing, eh?

Here, one of you lot done me

for a bottle of Beaujolais.

- Has he stood you up, then?

- Oh, get off your knees!

Come in with us.

We'll take you home, won't we, Toddo?

Yeah, we'll take you home, love.

- Come on.

- All right, then.

- Come on, then.

- Hey! Not so free with the hands!

Thanks, mate.

- Hello, Liz.

- Hello, Billy.

- I knew you were back.

- News travels fast!

- Where have you been?

- Here and there.

- Up and down.

- Round and about.

- Why didn't you ring me?

- I was going to.

- Thank you very much!

- No, really, I was going to.

- I knew you'd be here tonight.

- Yes, I am here, my dear.

Me and a few others.

- How's everything with you?

- Fine.

How's the scriptwriting,

and how's that book coming along?

I finished it. It's going

to be published next Christmas.

Count five and tell the truth.

Oh, well...

I haven't started writing it yet.

Oh, bad as ever.

I've written some scripts, though.

I've been offered a job in London.

- It's for the comedian Danny Boon.

- I met him this morning.

He was opening the supermarket.

He asked me to cut the tape.

- So I noticed in the paper.

- Well, when are you going?

Oh, soon.

- When's soon?

- Well, as soon as I can manage.

That's a bit vague, isn't it?

Why don't you go now?

- Well, it's difficult.

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Keith Waterhouse

Keith Spencer Waterhouse CBE (6 February 1929 – 4 September 2009) was a British novelist and newspaper columnist, and the writer of many television series. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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