Laughter in Paradise
- NOT RATED
- Year:
- 1951
- 93 min
- 149 Views
Here, in this mansion in a quiet London square,
a man lies dying.
And as he dies, the world remembers
the feats which made him famous.
The outrageous pranks, which time and again
shook officialdom to its very foundations.
will soon be joining the great majority.
It's hard to believe that this frail ghostlike figure
was once the greatest practical joker of modern times.
who so nearly purchased The Albert Hall.
The bronzed red-indian chief,
feted for swimming the Channel...
complete with feathered headdress
and tomahawk.
Goodbye Henry Russell...
your last practical joke is done.
Or is it?
Telegram...
For Miss Agnes Russell.
Thank you.
Oh... will you please wait here.
Come in!
Excuse me ma'am... there's a telegram.
That's no excuse coming in here
looking like a chimneysweep...
Go and put your apron on at once!
Yes ma'am.
But the boy's waiting for a reply.
Well, let him wait...
that's what he's paid for.
It's dusty.
Ethel... you see this photograph...
Yes, ma'am...
Well, don't stand there... come here!
My brother... he died this morning.
Oh, I am sorry, ma'am...
This photograph is smothered with dust!
But if I'd known the poor gentleman
had passed away...
It should not be necessary for people to die
in order to have their photograph dusted.
No, ma'am.
I'm ever so sorry about your bad news, ma'am.
You have reason to be.
For I shall now be able to afford some servants
who know their duty.
You can take a fortnight's notice from today.
Now go!
Mr Russell, it's useless arguing.
If every bank clerk in every bank in England
was half a crown short in his calculations every week...
Do you know how much that would cost?
If you like to let me have
pencil and paper sir...
I'll work it out for you
if you really want to know.
I don't want to know...
Oh, yes sir...
It's a very disturbing thought sir.
But sometimes sir, it isn't easy.
If it was easy, Mr Russell, there'd be
no need for bank clerks.
Yes... no, sir.
Come in!
Sorry to disturb you, sir...
There's a person in the bank
asking for Mr Russell.
Let one of the other clerks
deal with him.
It's a personal visit, sir... a lady...
a Mrs Goodwin.
Oh?... Who might this lady be?
No sir, she's no lady...
she's my landlady.
The bank, Mr Russell, is no place
for music-hall repartee...
Get rid of her at once.
Yessir.
I'm sorry to worry you like this sir,
but she was most...
Wipe that syncopatic smile off your face!
Hello, Mrs Goodwin.
Oh, Mr Russell... I thought I'd better pop in.
Just after you left, a telegraphic communication
arrived for you.
And I thought it might be urgent.
I didn't open it, of course...
So I don't know what
there may be in it.
But I think you should be prepared
for some rather sad news.
Oh, Mr Russell... was he very dear to you?
Pray accept my heartiest condolences!
Thank you Mrs Goodwin... thank you!
Not at all, I'm sure.
Well... see you at supper.
Yes.
Not bad news, I hope...?
Yes, in a way it was, yes.
A distant cousin of mine has just died.
Henry Russell... you've probably read about him.
He was always telling me that I lacked 'push'.
Yes, 'push' I think it was.
Nonsense... why don't you go and ask
Mr Wagstaffe for the afternoon off?
Everyone does on these occasions.
Oh, no... I couldn't!
Go on!... Show you've got some push.
Go on!
Yes... why not?!
Yes... I jolly well will!
Come in!
Yes?!
I...
Well?
has just died, sir...
How distant?
A long way off, sir.
What about it, then?
Well, it seems I'm a beneficiary
under his will, sir.
Just because you've come into a few pounds,
doesn't mean you can behave like a millionaire!
You'll be asking for the afternoon off, next!
Oh, no sir.
Oh, no.
No.
I'll raise you a fiver.
Your 5...
...and 10 more, Russell.
Tenner, eh?...
I'll see you.
Fours...
Fours?
How high?
4 kings.
If you beat that, I'll eat my cigar.
Better start eating, old son... 4 aces!
- Telegram sir...
- Open it, Benson.
Bad luck, old boy... but I did have
Very kind of you Simon, I'm sure.
Well, I hate fleecing a pal in my own flat.
What?...
Fantastic!
Well... you'll have to carry on
without me...
So make yourselves at home...
there's plenty of whisky...
Well, I like that!
You would pardon Mr Russell, sir...
He's had some very sad news.
Hello... Mr Endicott?
Simon Russell here... I just got your wire.
Is it true?
Splendid!...
Yes, I thought it might have been another
of those infernal practical jokes of his.
See you on Wednesday at the celebration.
No... of course... I mean the funeral...
I'm sorry!
I'm happy as a lark!
Benson... my dinner jacket...
I'm celebrating tonight.
Now look here... get on to Christine...
and tell her... no... she drinks too much...
Call Zena, and tell her
to meet me at The Garter...
She's always a certainty.
Are you ready Miss Wilcott?
- Yes.
- Good.
"Blood Lust"...
Chapter I... entitled "Sweet Meeting"
Paragraph
I walked into the room and there stood Petal...
her silken hair languorously
caressing one fair cheek...
her lips, red and inviting...
I walked over to her and slugged her
on the mouth...
No... no... change that, Miss Wilcott... to...
slugged her in the kisser...
Kisser!
Before going down, she threw me a single glance...
of searing hate suffused with scorn...
She was certainly a swell tomato!
That's a beautiful beginning, Capt. Russell...
It really is!
I'm afraid it's all rather disgusting really,
but... well, they seem to like the American touch.
Well.. um... proceed...
I leaned over her as she lay on the floor...
her green eyes half closed...
her bruised lips curled
in a slightly contemptuous smile.
"Petal", I whispered, "I love you, I love you. "
I love you.
- Three "I love you"s?
- That's right.
Then 4 dots and 4 X's...
Bother!
Capt. Deniston Russell's secretary.
Who wants him, please?
Oh... just a moment...
Your fiance...
Hello dear...
Yes, yes... I said I'd phone you at 6.
Well it's only 2 minutes past, you know.
Sorry, dear...
Just dictating letters...
paying bills, you know...
Yes, dear...
Oh dear, really, dear!
Goodbye, dear!
Well now... where were we?
dot-dot-dot and 4 X's
Oh yes...
A convulsive tremor shook her slender frame...
and Petal moaned...
Miss Wilcott?
Petal moaned.
I know it's none of my business,
but I think you ought to tell her.
Tell who... what?
Your fiance... about your being a writer.
If you're getting married in a fortnight...
But I couldn't do that...
Oh dear... good gracious no...
Oh, she'd never approve...
I mean it's not as if I were a... Bernard Shaw...
Oh, but she'd be proud of you!
Not many people can get
a book published at all...
And look at you... scores of them!
Translation
Translate and read this script in other languages:
Select another language:
- - Select -
- 简体中文 (Chinese - Simplified)
- 繁體中文 (Chinese - Traditional)
- Español (Spanish)
- Esperanto (Esperanto)
- 日本語 (Japanese)
- Português (Portuguese)
- Deutsch (German)
- العربية (Arabic)
- Français (French)
- Русский (Russian)
- ಕನ್ನಡ (Kannada)
- 한국어 (Korean)
- עברית (Hebrew)
- Gaeilge (Irish)
- Українська (Ukrainian)
- اردو (Urdu)
- Magyar (Hungarian)
- मानक हिन्दी (Hindi)
- Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Italiano (Italian)
- தமிழ் (Tamil)
- Türkçe (Turkish)
- తెలుగు (Telugu)
- ภาษาไทย (Thai)
- Tiếng Việt (Vietnamese)
- Čeština (Czech)
- Polski (Polish)
- Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Românește (Romanian)
- Nederlands (Dutch)
- Ελληνικά (Greek)
- Latinum (Latin)
- Svenska (Swedish)
- Dansk (Danish)
- Suomi (Finnish)
- فارسی (Persian)
- ייִדיש (Yiddish)
- հայերեն (Armenian)
- Norsk (Norwegian)
- English (English)
Citation
Use the citation below to add this screenplay to your bibliography:
Style:MLAChicagoAPA
"Laughter in Paradise" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 22 Nov. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/laughter_in_paradise_12318>.
Discuss this script with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In