The Ploughman's Lunch Page #21

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CHARLES:

Aha. James giving some woman the

old heave-ho.

JAMES:

(rim smile)

Exactly that.

INT. JAMES'S FLAT - EVENING

TIGHT SHOT of Edward on the phone.

EDWARD:

Hello, you don't know me. My name's

Edward Long. I'm a friend of James

Penfield. He asked me to phone

you. I don't know what any of

this means, but he said you would

understand ... Yes, that's right.

He said he's got to go away for a

while, and that he'll be writing

to you and please don't try and

contact him ... Hello?

Pulling away, we see where we are. James sits in a chair

reading a magazine. God, that was terrible. Don't ever

ask me another favour like that.

JAMES:

You were wonderful. I'm very

grateful.

EDWARD:

She hung up. Why couldn't you

just write to her?

JAMES:

I will, sooner or later.

(standing)

Trouble is I hate writing letters.

Now, where are we going to eat?

INT. FILM STUDIO - MORNING

What we SEE first is the actual set and only subsequently

the surrounding technical apparatus of film-making. We

are suddenly in a deeply contented pre-war middle-class

sitting-room. Guide track: sweet, period music. Dad sits

in an armchair reading a newspaper. A pipe is near at

hand. To one side, a wireless. At his feet, a girl plays

with a doll; a boy plays with a model steam engine.

Mum enters with a tray of steaming hot drinks. As she

sets down the tray on the arm of Dad's chair, the music

peaks and the children half rise and arrange themselves on

either side of Dad's legs. Everyone smiles up at Mum.

Once this has unfolded, we pull back to see the camera

crew, continuity, make-up etc. James is standing to one

side watching.

MATTHEW:

And ... cut. Steve?

STEVE:

((camera-man)

Not the best, guv'nor.

MATTHEW:

Right... we'll go again, please.

Matthew to ad lib instructions to actors and crew. He

notices James.

MATTHEW:

James, good, you made it. We're

just going to do one more take,

then we'll break for lunch.

The commercial is set up and shot again, with Matthew

continuing to give ad libbed directions. As soon as the

take is over, Matthew snatches his jacket, gives a quick

kiss to a young woman who could well be his current lover,

and steers James out of the studio.

MATTHEW:

Right, James. Come on. Let's go

before the clients get hold of me.

INT. PUB - DAY

Lunch time. Matthew stands at the bar where he is buying

drinks and lunch. Then the two men sit at a small table

face to face.

MATTHEW:

I'll tell you another thing. We

might have led the world once into

the Industrial Revolution, now we

lead with television commercials.

We're the best, it's as simple as

that. Even the Americans will

admit it now ... the camera work,

the acting, the scripts, special

effects. We've got the lot. Nearly

all the good directors here have

ambitions to make serious films.

(a sudden laugh)

That food you're eating.

JAMES:

Yes.

MATTHEW:

What would you call it?

JAMES:

I dunno. Ploughman's Lunch.

MATTHEW:

Ploughman's Lunch. Traditional

English fare.

JAMES:

U-huh.

MATTHEW:

In fact it's the invention of an

advertising campaign they ran in

the early sixties to encourage

people to eat in pubs. A completely

successful fabrication of the past,

the Ploughman's Lunch was.

We look at James's plate, the unappetising food. Matthew

takes a long drink.

MATTHEW:

Listen, James. There's something

else I want to talk to you about.

Matthew pauses.

MATTHEW:

I'm pretty broadminded, and I'd

rather be frank than have everybody

misunderstanding one another. If

you see what I mean.

James does not.

MATTHEW:

Susan told me that your visits to

Norfolk had ... well, an ulterior

motive.

JAMES:

She said that?

MATTHEW:

You weren't really interested in

Suez at all. Incredibly enough,

you were interested in my wife.

JAMES:

Now listen...

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