Carry on at Your Convenience Page #9

Synopsis: This is the tale of industrial strife at WC Boggs' Lavatory factory. Vic Spanner is the union representative who calls a strike at the drop of a hat; eventually everyone has to get fed up with him. This is also the ideal opportunity for lots of lavatorial jokes...
Genre: Comedy
Director(s): Gerald Thomas
Production: J. Arthur Rank Productions
 
IMDB:
6.1
NOT RATED
Year:
1971
90 min
812 Views


I've decided to take up Moore's offer

for the firm, anyway.

Thanks, Dad. I knew you'd...

You've what?

You can't do that, Dad!

Oh, no. No.

I've got to stop him.

Well, here I am at long last, darling.

Get dressed as quickly as you can.

- What?

- We've got to get back. I'll explain later.

- Something important's come up.

- But won't it keep?

Oh, I do hope it will.

Excuse me, WC.

Have you seen my daughter this morning?

Your daughter, Mr Plummer, no.

She left Brighton with your bloomin' son

and she hasn't been home all night!

I wouldn't worry about that, Mr Plummer.

Your daughter Myrtle has always commanded

great admiration and respect

and I'm sure Lewis will see that she gets it.

That's what I'm afraid of.

Listen to me, WC.

What's that?

Let's go and see.

Hello.

Looks like a showdown.

Now, listen!

We are on official strike, pending confirmation.

So, until then, there will be no return to work!

What's the point in our going on with the strike

if it means Boggs has to close down?

That is neither here nor there, brother.

So why don't you...

go home and stop making trouble.

Us making trouble?

All we want to do is an honest day's work.

All we want to do is... All we want...

Listen, brother, bolshie talk like that

got this country in the mess it's in today.

Now, listen, fellas,

the last thing that we want is any violence.

So at the first sign of anything, don't argue.

Don't get involved.

Bash 'em!

Oh, well, we might as well go home again.

That's it, then. I don't reckon

we'll have any more trouble now.

I don't know about that. Just look at this lot.

Blimey. My old woman's there.

And mine.

- Stop!

- Mum? What are you doing here?

I've come to knock some common sense

into that moth-eaten brain of yours.

Please, Mum, not in front of everyone.

Ah, now you're ashamed.

And so you should be.

Now, then. Shift your arse out of the way

and let these good people in to do their work!

I must warn you ladies

that this strike is quite legitimate.

That's more than they say about you.

I must ask you all to disperse peacefully.

Disperse, crap. Now, are you going to get out

of the way, or do I have to make you?

We must stand firm on our principles.

Oh, yeah?

It is the democratic right of every worker

to do whatever he likes.

- We must stand firm...

- Ah, shut up!

- It is a democratic...

- Shut up! Give me that, you little squirt!

- Mum, please!

- Go on! Come here!

Now, then.

This is what I should have done years ago!

Mum! Ow! Ow!

Ow! Mum!

Oh, Mum! Ow!

Will somebody open those damned gates?

Thank you, ladies.

Sorry about that row, Mr Boggs,

but we thought you might need a little help.

We'd like to come back to work, if that's all right.

I can't tell you how much I appreciate

this moving gesture.

Such a wonderful display of loyalty.

Cut the cackle and let's get on with the work.

Well done, Beattie.

All right, you can go home now.

But I thought I'd stay on for a bit, Sidney.

Make a change for me.

- Stay on?

- Yeah.

Oh, all right, then. Come on.

Come on!

Oh, brothers! Brothers, you're not going to let

a bunch of women tell you what to do, are you?

Don't they always?

Oh, no! Don't let's give in like this, brothers!

Be firm! Be firm! Make a stand!

Has it all been for nothing?

There are alternatives, you know!

Bernie, don't just stand there. Do something!

Well, I don't know about you blokes,

but I'm not going to let any woman take my job.

Now, then, come on. Let's get back to work.

All right, then! All right, then!

Go back to work! See if I care!

Don't expect me to join you! Nothing on earth

would get me back in that place!

Nothing on earth, I tell you!

Excuse me,

but they sent me from the exchange.

I'm the new canteen girl.

Can you tell me where I go?

Oh, yes. I was just going in myself.

I'll show you where it is.

Yes, we've got a lovely pair of canteens here.

And a nice lot of people.

You'll like them. They're very nice.

What's going on?

Ooh!

Chloe, about last night, you know,

when you asked me in for a cup of tea.

What about it, Sid?

I'd like you to know that I wanted it badly.

The tea, I mean.

It's a bit late for that now, isn't it?

No, no. There must be another chance, surely?

Next year maybe?

Even sooner perhaps.

Hello, Beattie.

- Getting on all right, then?

- Oh, yes. Lovely.

I've been thinking,

I think I'll take a permanent job here.

You'll what?

Well, it seems much more sensible

than sitting at home talking to a silly bird all day.

Well, I don't know.

There's no harm in talking to a bird, really.

Oh, well, you should know.

Here you are, dear.

And anyway,

I could come on the outings with you, couldn't I?

Yes. That's right.

What do you want?

Well, I'm still employed here, aren't I?

That is unless you want to fire me.

- Supposing I did?

- That would be victimisation.

- Oh, no, you don't. Go on. Get working.

- Right.

But I want it clearly understood,

I'm only doing so under protest.

Knickers!

- Better now, Maudie?

- Oh!

Oh, Mr Plummer! Oh! Ha-ha-ha!

Myrtle, where the hell have you been?

Now, now, Dad.

Before you sound off, it's all right.

- We're married.

- Married?

That's right. Mr Plummer.

I hope you don't object, Dad.

Dad! Don't object? My daughter marries

into management, you ask me if I object?

Of course I object!

But that's absurd. You're management yourself.

How dare you insult me like that!

I'm works foreman and don't you forget it!

- Didn't my dad tell you, then?

- Tell me what?

In return for all the financial help you gave him,

he's having you made a director.

- Director?

- Yes.

Oh, no! No! I'm a worker!

I don't want to sit on my big fat...

Come on, Lewis. I think we'd better go.

I'll kill that bloody budgie!

Here, Vic. There's no paper in that loo.

What was that, Bern?

I just said there's no paper in that toilet again.

Well, well, well. There's a situation.

- Bernie.

- Yeah?

- Don't just stand there.

- Right, I know.

Nip out and buy a couple of rolls.

Hey, hey. Good lad.

Come on, you lot. Don't hang about.

Carry on working.

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Talbot Rothwell

Talbot Nelson Conn Rothwell, OBE (12 November 1916 – 28 February 1981) was an English screenwriter. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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