Christopher and His Kind Page #3

- Christoph?

- Yes?

You got ten marks?

- Yes.

- I'll pay you tonight, ja?

Of course you will.

Oh, dear.

Let us thank God, Christoph,

that we are both normal.

Aren't boys marvellous?

Their shape and their voices.

Their smell, the way they move.

And they can be so... romantic, whereas girls...

No, I'm glad I'm like I am.

Thank God for public school.

He's not coming, is he?

As I've told you, my dear,

intimacy's just business to them.

So you think if I stopped giving him money?

No, no.

Caspar and I, it's more than just... business.

They're desperate for cash.

They'll do anything for it.

- But what he says to me...

- He'll tell you anything you want to hear.

Still, what do I know about romance?

I'm a poet, not a f***ing journalist.

- I've booked my ticket back to England.

- Already?

Father's allowance has dried up.

And I really must get this fissure in my rectum

seen to.

I hope that wasn't me.

I'm touched by your concern, but really,

Christopher, you mustn't flatter yourself.

# Piano intro

# Can't imagine why I chose to leave him

# How could I have been so cruel?

# After all, he loved me without question

# Still I left him like a fool

# If I woke him late at night complaining

# I'm on my last cigarette

# He'd say, I'll be over in a minute

# Darling, please don't get upset

# Peter

# Peter

- Gute Nacht.

- Gute Nacht.

Ha!

That's not what I was expecting at all.

I suspect that's a compliment, so, thank you.

I'm so thrilled you're here. Bobby, sweetie.

Good job.

I'm in heaven.

Chris, darling, this is Bobby Gilbert.

He does something important

for something or other.

- I'm in steel.

- This is Chris Isherwood.

- Christopher.

- Hey, Chris.

Any day now, Bobby's going to whisk me off

to Hollywood, aren't you?

- You bet.

- And I've told him all about you.

Oh.

Chris is absolutely my best friend.

He's the writer.

Oh! Yeah. Right.

Er... Would I have read anything of yours,

Chris?

Oh, no, but I've told him if he really sticks at it

he could write something really great,

like Nol Coward or something.

Couldn't you, darling?

What's the matter, Christoph?

You don't like me tonight?

Hey, Christoph. What's the matter?

I don't like being taken for an idiot.

You say you'll meet me then you don't turn up.

You take money off me

and say you'll pay me back, but never do.

It's getting to the point

where I can't believe anything you tell me.

Yes, I understand.

I understand.

Some of the girls I see, they're like that.

They say things and then let me down.

It makes me mad.

And when I see them, I always pay them,

I never hit them, and still they let me down.

But you know, Christoph,

some of them... they are so beautiful and...

...they make me so happy

and I just forget how mad I am.

You bastard!

Your eyes, Christoph.

They shine so bright when you're hot for me.

Oh, Caspar. He gave me a cheap,

gold-plated bracelet -

probably an unwanted gift from some admirer-

and fastened it around my wrist.

A love token, I fondly thought.

But then he disappeared.

I asked around, but no-one knew where he was.

I should have listened to Wystan.

Perhaps it wasjust a business transaction

after all.

Zwei Minuten, meine Liebe.

- Must be simply marvellous to be a novelist.

- Why's that?

Because when people are utterly foul to you,

you can sit down and write about them

and tell the whole world

how perfectly vile they are,

and make simply pots of money out of it.

It hasn't quite worked out like that yet.

Darling, will you be an angel

and light my ciggie?

Actually, I've been offered the chance

to earn a bit extra.

Take it.

Writing letters from Berlin

and doing the odd book review.

Darling, that's marvellous!

Let's have champagne.

It's for a magazine called Action.

- Oswald Mosley's rag.

- Oh, you know it, then?

Of course I know it. I may wear green

nail varnish, I'm not completely vacuous.

I meant to ask,

why do you wear green nail varnish?

- Have you said yes?

- Not yet.

- Don't.

- It wouldn't be political.

Writing anything for that lot

would be a statement of sorts

- even if it was for the cookery column.

- The money would come in handy.

- Christopher, you can't.

- But, Jean...

I wouldn't talk to you again

and that's an end to it!

I was just testing the water.

I wasn't really going to write anything for them.

Honestly, I wasn't.

I'm one to talk. Gosh, you know the things

I've done for money.

But people here are so strange.

They have simply no idea.

And the Nazis are getting more and more

of a foothold and they just seem to accept it.

I've even heard some people talk

of a brighter future,

as if all this ghastliness

were a price worth paying.

They're going to get an awful shock

unless they make a stand -

which you and I must do.

We must not throw in the towel.

- Why are you looking at me like that?

- I don't really know.

Aaargh!

- My god!

- Aaargh!

Morning, darlings.

- Aargh!

- God in heaven!

Oh!

Aaargh!

Oh, dear, I hope he won't do himself a mischief.

He ought to be more careful at his time of life.

Aaargh!

Ooh!

Oh, Bobby, darling.

You do that so well.

You must teach me one day

how to catch it in my mouth.

You bet, honey.

Thank you.

- To The Memorial.

- The Memorial.

Ja.

So do you think I'd enjoy your book, Chris?

Well, I'm not sure what sort of books you like,

Bobby?

- What do you think, hon?

- I haven't a clue, darling.

But I expect it's astoundingly brilliant.

And the point is it's published.

His second novel in print.

And he's even had a letter of congratulation

from E M Forrester.

- Forster.

- Wow!

It won't be long now

till our Chris is just as famous.

So, who's that guy in the wig?

Gerald.

Well, I could swear that Gerald was peeking

through the keyhole while I was in the john.

When I came out he didn't know where to look.

I expect he knew exactly where to look.

Yeah. Right.

Bobby.

Darling, I adore champagne.

We'll have it every day, won't we,

once you whisk me off to Hollywood?

Sure thing.

Bobby!

Naughty Bobby!

Deutschland erwache!

Excuse me.

Entschuldigung, bitte.

I was in the caf and you were...

Do you remember?

No. Well, why should you?

My name is Christopher.

Perhaps you'd like to go for ein Bier.

No. OK.

I'm sorry.

His name was Heinz.

He was innocent, vulnerable and uncritical.

A boy I could protect and cherish

as my very own.

Jean thought it was all frightfully jolly

and decided I was at last doing my bit

for the class struggle.

And as Heinz and I drew ever closer,

I had no hesitation in falling in love.

She needs to be in hospital,

but there is no beds.

Mutti.

Gerald! Come on out!

- I know you're in there.

- He's not here.

Where is he, then?

- Hamburg.

- Hamburg!

When he is back, tell him if I don't get

what I want, he knows what to expect.

Don't you, Gerald?

Some people seem to be utterly lacking

in consideration.

Tell me what it's about, Gerald.

It's a business transaction, that's all,

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes