Random Harvest

Our story takes you down

this shadowed path...

to a remote and guarded building

in the English Midlands:

Melbridge County Asylum.

Grimly proud of its new military wing...

which barely suffices...

in this autumn of 1918...

to house the shattered minds...

of the war that was to end war.

Now, Mr. And Mrs. Lloyd...

I should warn you

that even if he is your son...

he may not recognize you.

His memory is affected,

and he has trouble with his speech:

The result of shock.

He was picked up by the Germans...

in a shell hole near Arras in 1917...

close to death

and with no means of identification.

When he returned to consciousness

in a German hospital...

he could remember nothing at all

of his past life.

He had no name...

he had no family

with whom he could correspond.

Six months ago, he was exchanged

through Switzerland and sent here.

I sincerely hope he proves to be your son.

I believe that he could be cured...

with patience and care

in normal surroundings.

May we see him now?

Certainly.

Please, Mrs. Lloyd, don't hope too much.

I've seen many disappointments.

Good morning, boys.

This is just an informal visit.

Good morning, Clayton.

Sleeping better? You just keep it up.

Well, now, Trempitt, what's going on?

I thought you and I were friends.

Last time we shook hands.

Don't you remember?

Well, don't bother today

if you don't feel like it.

You can't discourage me.

There. You see, my boy? That's the spirit.

You and I will be going into town

very soon for a glass of beer...

to Melbridge Arms.

Would you like that?

Fine. Won't be long now.

Well, Smith...

you are looking better, really improved.

- Don't you think so, Doctor?

- Very much.

We have some news for you. Interested?

There are some people here

who are very anxious to see you.

Mr. And Mrs. Lloyd.

Lloyd?

The name mean anything to you?

Their son was reported missing in 1917.

At Arras.

Now don't pin your hopes on it.

You may be their son, you may not.

We'll soon know.

My parents.

There. You see, my boy?

You speak well enough when you want to.

It's just a matter of confidence.

You've just got to

get back your confidence.

My father.

Doctor, dress him up a bit

and take him to the reception room.

Very well. Come along, Smith.

Lloyd.

Sit down, old man.

If they are your parents...

They would take me out of here?

That's rather a big if, old man. Sit down.

Lloyd.

- He is not your son, then?

- No.

I'm sincerely sorry.

I told you, my boy, not to count on it.

Out in this weather, Major?

You are a one for a walk, ain't you?

Proper old pea soup this is.

I'm all right, thank you.

Coat's very warm.

I like to walk.

Proper old pea soup.

The war's over! Peace!

There's an armistice!

What is it you want?

Come on, I haven't got all night.

Cigarette.

What sort?

Why, you're from the asylum. You're...

It's all right, dear. You take your time.

Have a nice look around, see.

I'll be back in a jiffy.

You are from the asylum, aren't you?

Yes, but I'm all right, really.

If you have given them the slip,

I wouldn't stay here.

She's gone straight to the phone.

She's telling them to come for you.

Can I help you?

I thought you weren't feeling too fit,

so I followed you.

You don't mind, do you?

You look tired out.

Been walking about for hours?

Well, how about a brandy and soda...

just to pull you together?

I'm gonna have one.

Shall we go over to the home pub?

It's just across the road.

It's not the Ritz, but it's where

we all stay when our show's in town.

It's, you know, friendly.

Come on.

Excuse us, please.

That was Ella. She's our character woman,

and he's our manager.

- Hello, Sam.

- Hello, Paula.

He's a dear, really.

- Hello, Paula.

- Hello, Brett.

Have a drink, and the army, too.

- There, you see? You're amongst friends.

- Mind you, he was game, the gunner was.

Halfway through the 10th,

he run into my right hook...

and forgot his name and address.

You don't win fights

with your hands and feet.

You win them with your brains.

That's what brought me to the top.

What's it to be, my dear?

This is on the house.

Thank you, Biffer.

Mine's a Gin and French.

Can I have a brandy for my friend here?

With pleasure, my dear.

Looks as though he could do with it.

Feeling bad?

- No, I...

- He's just tired, that's all.

Not the flu, is it? Got them in the back.

Dying like flies at the hospital.

That's right, cheer him up.

Know any more funny stories?

I was only passing a remark.

It's a free country.

Pass him the free drink.

That'll do him more good.

Well, here it is,

and a drop of good stuff that is.

- Bring anybody back from the grave.

- The grave?

Aren't you a little

ray of sunshine tonight?

- Paula. Don't be late.

- No, I won't, Sam.

I've got to get over to the theater.

Goodbye, and thanks for the drinks.

- Shall we go?

- Well, there goes a hero for you.

- He's one of the men what done it.

- Right.

I must get over to the theater.

I've cut it pretty close.

It doesn't seem very friendly, does it,

running away like this?

What are you going to do?

Will you be all right?

- What am I to do with you?

- I'll be all right.

I'm not so sure.

Listen, how'd you like to see the show?

You can sit in my dressing room,

see the stage. No one will bother you.

Then we'll have a chat, shall we?

Just you and I,

and settle what's to be done.

Good? Good, come on.

Sorry to keep you waiting all this time,

but I'm so excited about peace.

I've got one eyebrow halfway up my

forehead and the other behind my left ear.

Just a second. I'll be with you.

Well? How do you like me?

Or don't you?

Good.

Now, talk to me.

Tell me all about yourself.

Why'd you give them the slip up

at the hospital?

You don't like the place?

Surely you ought not to be there.

Come on. Answer me.

Cat got your tongue?

Make an effort.

I'm all right, really.

It's my speech. It's just nerves.

There, you see? You're doing splendidly.

Yes, I wasn't so bad then, was I?

I should say not.

You don't know what a job I have...

as a rule.

I can guess. I heard you up at that shop.

That old witch would scare anybody.

There's another thing.

I've lost my memory.

I don't even know who I am.

You mean...

I know who you are.

You're somebody awfully nice.

What did they call you at that place?

Smith.

It's not my real name.

- What's yours?

- Paula Ridgeway.

That's not my real name, either.

Look here, Smithy. You don't mind

if I call you Smithy, do you?

It can't be good for you up there

among all those poor souls.

You can't be happy.

And how are you ever going to get better

if you're unhappy?

Perhaps I shouldn't be very happy...

anywhere just now.

But, Smithy, the war's over.

Doesn't that mean anything to you?

I'm just silly. Don't take any notice.

It's the day.

It's so splendid for most of us

and so sad for some.

Why did it have to be foggy and wet?

It should have been all sunshine

and golden day.

Never mind, Smithy.

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