The Radio Play Count Arthur Strong

So I'm asking everybody if they have a favourite Max Baker story.

Ah! Well, how much time have you got? So many stories.

Great, great. Just, er... Say them into the tape recorder.

Well, I suppose the one I remember about your dad is, you know

how Max could be a bit competitive?

-Yes. Yes, I do.

-Well...

HE LAUGHS

He bought me a table tennis table when I was 12.

I was quite good at it. One night he asked me for a game and I won.

He couldn't bear it.

He made me play him again, and again, game after game.

And I kept winning, even when I tried not to. All night we played.

Long after my bedtime. My arm ached.

Finally, he threw the paddle down, walked out without a word.

Didn't say "good night" or anything.

Few days later, I came home

and he'd given the table away to Children In Need.

Anyway, funny stories. Off you go.

Sorry about this, Michael. I would have given you more time,

but I'm producing a radio play this morning and I've got to get back.

Oh, no, that's fine. You've given me more than enough.

-Before we go, take a look at this.

-Oh! Goodness, there they are. Ha!

-Arthur's still wearing that hat.

-Arthur? He's still alive?

Oh, yes, yes. He's er... He's very...very alive.

-He's "helping me" with my book.

-What does he do with himself then?

Well, he likes to think he's still in the business,

but as far as I can tell, he's just a highly functioning psychopath.

Actually, that's not true. He's not...highly functioning.

MOBILE PHONE RINGS

Sorry. Excuse me. Hello, Rachel.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down. What's... What's happened?

Oh, you're joking. Rachel, you're joking.

Listen, Arthur, er... All right, I'll just come out and say it.

Somebody has asked me to ask you

if you'd be interested in doing a few lines in a radio play today.

There. I've done it. I have passed the message on.

Whatever happens now is nothing to do with me.

Could I have a tea and toast, please, Sinem.

-All the details are on there.

-What? A radio play? Me? They asked for me?

I know. I was the same way.

Apparently the actor who was going to do it

-has had an accident or something.

-That's brilliant!

Will I have time for breakfast?

-No, not really.

-Never mind. I'll get Bulent to do me a pocket breakfast.

-What's a pocket breakfast?

-John, have you heard that?

I've just landed the lead role in a radio play!

It's not the lead role, it's literally two lines.

-What's a pocket breakfast?

-Two lines?

Well, that's something we'll have to discuss.

No, it really is just two lines. They're written down there.

Oh, I'll just get my reading glasses.

Erm... Oh, it's not those. Erm...

It's definitely not those.

Here they are.

HE CLEARS HIS THROAT

-Which ones are these then?

-I'll read it! I'll read it. For God's sake.

Right, you just have to say,

"I'm sorry," and "Goodbye, Samantha."

That sounds doable. I'm sorry, Sarah.

-What was the other one?

-No, Samantha.

-No, Samantha!

-It's "Goodbye, Sarah"...

-Goodbye, Sarah!

-Sorry, Samantha.

-You said Sarah.

-Sorry, Samantha, you said Sarah!

-No!

-It's a bigger part than you had me believe.

-No, it's not.

-It is just two lines, "I'm sorry..."

-Nothing for you to be sorry about.

It's their fault for not making it clearer!

That's the line, that's what you have...

MOBILE RINGTONE OF A CHOIR SINGING

-Hello? Oh, hello, Sheila.

-Bulent, I want to change me order.

-I'll have a pocket breakfast.

-We're not supposed to be meeting, are we?

No, no, nothing like that. Have you heard about Ronald Harrison?

Oh, he's not won another bloody award, has he?

Oh, God, that's so unfair! Did you read his last one, Sheila?

I couldn't finish it. Oh, God, I hate him. And he's younger than me.

He's had a massive heart attack.

Oh, that's awful!

He's just won that award! Oh, that's so unfair. I must finish his book.

A heart attack? But he's younger than me.

It happened while he was doing a photo shoot for an Observer profile.

Oh, for f... Oh!

I thought you should know in case you want to send a card.

Yes, of course. Thank you, Sheila. Thank you. Sorry, John?

-Could I just borrow your newspaper a minute?

-You all right?

Yeah, just a bit poleaxed. It's a writer, Ronald Harrison.

Was a friend of mine. Apparently he had a heart attack.

There's nothing about it in here.

This is some sort of horse newspaper.

It's the Racing Post.

Here you go. Ronald Harrison.

-Yeah.

-He looks like an old boyfriend of mine.

-Really?

-Huh, well, that's... That's your type?

-Not anymore.

He was one of these big babies, wanted to be taken care of,

-needed a mum, not a girlfriend.

-Oh, I hate that, yeah.

I bet Ronald's like that as well. Yeah. Just a big baby.

-(BABY VOICE) Just wants somebody to take care of him.

-Hmm.

-Especially now he's had his heart attack.

-Oh, yes, I'm so sorry.

I keep on forgetting.

What is this? What is this?!

'Harrison says the experience has made him re-evaluate his life

'and his next book will be a portrait of his father.'

(WHINING) He can't do that! He can't do a portrait of his father!

I'm doing of portrait of MY father!

-He's not writing about your father, is he?

-Well, are you sure?

Cos I wouldn't put it past him. Oh, God, I don't believe this.

-Here, Eggy, get a load of this. I'm doing a play on the radio.

-No!

-Yes!

-This is it, Eggy, my comeback.

-Just two lines!

When do we get to hear it?

Unfortunately, they have not furnished me

with the dates of transmission, but as soon as...

-Oh, for crying out loud!

-What's wrong?

I've got to be at home this afternoon. I'm expecting a delivery.

John, what are you doing today? Can you wait in at mine for a delivery?

Sorry, Arthur, I've got pilates.

-What about you? What are you doing today?

-Writing, working.

-I've got to write up all my notes.

-You can do that at my house.

No, Arthur.

I'm sorry, but I need a certain environment to work,

-and your house is not that.

-Please, Michael!

-No! Definitely not.

-Oh, go on.

-Oh, all right then, I will.

-I need to get changed.

I'll see you back at mine in ten minutes, all right? Ooorgh!

Radio play!

BUZZER

I'm coming! I'm coming.

Oh.

-What's up with your door?

-It's sticking at the bottom.

-Ow!

I keep meaning to get me plane out and take a bit off it.

In fact, you could do that for me while you're waiting if you want.

I'm writing up my notes, Arthur, I'm not going to plane your door.

Ooph.

-Ow! Where's the sofa?

-It's what you're waiting in for.

-I've had to get a new one.

-Where am I supposed to sit?

-How am I supposed to work?

-The sofa people won't be long.

-They said somewhere between 12 and 5.

-I'm never going to finish this book.

Here, this will cheer you up.

-I'll show you the letter your dad and me got from Elvis Presley.

-What?

-What did you say?

-It's in here somewhere.

-You have a letter from Elvis Presley to my dad?

-Yeah. He was a big fan.

-Elvis Presley was a fan of my dad?

-And me.

We were a double act, remember. Don't be rewriting me out of history.

Wait a second, I want to get this right.

-You have a letter from Elvis Presley to my dad? THE Elvis Presley?

-Yeah.

-Hand written.

-Oh, my God!

This is the thing that'll bring the book to life! Oh, take that,

Ronald bloody Harrison, although I'm sorry about your heart attack.

-May I?

-Help yourself. I think it's in that box.

-Thank you.

-Thank you, Arthur.

-Ta-ta, Michael. Thanks again.

There's no letter in here.

Ugh...

I can't thank you enough, Arthur. I was really in a bind.

Oh, no, no, no. Not at all. Only too happy to help.

You're saying all these biscuits are free?

Well, er... Yes, yes.

Arthur, this is Luke, who's playing Paul, our leading man.

-Luke, this is Arthur.

-Hello, Arthur.

-Delighted to meet you.

-Another day, another job, eh?

-Oh, yes. Oh, jobs, jobs, jobs.

I've got so many jobs. Big jobs as well.

I've got massive, big jobs coming out me ears!

-That's impressive. Who's your agent?

-Michael Baker.

-I might get his number off you later.

-Hi.

-Hello.

-Ah.

-Arthur, this is Rachael Goodwin.

-Oh, thank goodness for that.

Get the kettle on, love, I'm gasping.

-Our director. She's directing the piece.

-Hi.

-Ha-ha! Ho-ho! I know!

I was only pulling your leg. I know women don't make tea for men anymore.

And if you ask me, it's a disgrace they ever had to!

Thank you so much for helping us out, Arthur.

We only have Dame Agnes for a few hours.

-Have you had a chance to read the play?

-I haven't, no. Have you?

-Well, I wrote it.

-Did you?

I should just say now, I won't do anything blue.

Unless, of course, my fee was adjusted to reflect this

potentially exciting new direction for my career you're suggesting.

-Rachael, are you all right to get on?

-Thanks, Colin, yes.

-I'll take it from here.

-OK.

Let me introduce you to the last members of our merry band.

-Jennifer Mallison and of course Dame Agnes.

-Of course.

-Very pleased to meet you, Dame Agnes.

-I'm not Dame Agnes.

Oh, of course, of course. You'd be much older, wouldn't you?

This must be her now.

(RAISES VOICE) I say! This must be you now!

I can hear you perfectly well, Arthur.

-Have you got some sort of device?

-I'm sorry?

(RAISES VOICE) For your hearing!

-No. There's nothing wrong with my hearing.

-Here!

-She was trying to pass herself off as you, you know.

-I wasn't!

She didn't fool me, though.

I can always tell when someone's been ennobled.

They have a grace, don't they? An innate grace.

(LOUDLY) She's not got it.

Will you please stop shouting, Arthur,

we can all you hear you perfectly well.

Oh, right.

I'm sorry, but...are any of you going to make the tea?

BANGING AND CRASHING

Ohhh...

Nothing!

My hypothesis, and it's only a hypothesis,

is that what we're dealing with here is a morality play.

Yeah, that's precisely what I was going for.

With each character representing a different vice.

Pride, as seen in Paul, our manipulative lothario.

Penelope, whose vanity manifests itself in everything she says

and does, and Samantha, the mother,

whose greed and despair ultimately lead to her downfall.

Bang on!

-Sorry?

-I'm just agreeing with the... hippopotamus.

Although I have yet, as I say, to read the play.

Does anyone have any questions so far?

-Oh.

-Yes, Arthur?

-Um, viz a viz the lunch situation...

I'm afraid it's up to individuals to sort out their own lunch.

-I was actually...

-I find that very surprising.

Last time I worked for the BBC they had a running buffet.

Any questions on the play is what I mean.

Rachael, my character, tell me if this is way off, but I see him

as...barely able to contain his sexuality.

He could erupt at any moment. He's like a carnal...Vesuvius.

A carnal Vesuvius. Ooh, I love that!

Oh, yes, that's a wonderful image for us all

to keep in our minds as we proceed.

Dame Agnes, how do you see your character?

I went home with a whole salmon!

-I'm sorry?

-From the buffet.

Must have weighed 20lbs. I was eating it for days.

Yes?

Hmm! Dame Agnes, any single image?

Salmon for me breakfast, salmon for me dinner, salmon for me sodding tea.

I was sick of the sight of the bloody thing in the end.

Staring at me with those cold, accusing eyes.

In the end, I had no option but to flush it down the toilet.

Dame Agnes, an image?

I'm sorry, Rachael, all I can see is a salmon in a toilet.

Is she a bit like that? Like a salmon trapped in a toilet?

No, she's not like that! Not at all.

Can you come back to me?

-Jennifer, how about you?

-Well...

-Like Free Willy.

Except, instead of a live whale, it was a dead salmon.

And instead of a little boy being jumped over, it was me flushing...

Will you stop talking about the salmon?! Stop talking about it!

Just stop it!

Who's Colonel Vesuvius?

Aaagh!

LOUD CRASH

HE GROANS

AAAAARRRGH!

SCREAMING CONTINUES

-Paul, what are you doing here?

-Your mother invited me for the weekend.

-Why?

-Don't look so shocked, darling. It's all perfectly innocent.

Samantha, would you rub some oil on my back? I'm turning into a crisp.

-I'm...going to my room.

-Hurry, Samantha!

-All right, I'm coming.

Are you going to leave your trousers on?

I guess I could slip into my trunks. I am on holiday.

LOUD UNZIPPING

-Goodness, look at you!

-What?

Oh, I suppose they are a bit snug.

Ahem! Some privacy, please!

Spoilsport! Sorry, Rachael, I don't understand this bit.

It seems very coy of him suddenly to ask her to turn around.

Everything else has been... freighted with sexuality...

and then he wants some privacy to put his trunks on.

I, um...I don't get it.

Um... Well...

CUTLERY CLATTERS

Even Paul has limits... and here he's...

exercising his power by...

..arbitrarily enforcing those limits.

Er, I see.

And you don't want everybody staring at you

when your landing gear's descending.

Let's take it back to "I won't peek."

All right, I won't peek, I promise.

UNDERPANTS WHIP OFF

You can turn around now.

SHE GASPS

Dear me! How do you keep in such good shape?

Oh, you know, swimming, squat thrusts...

ARTHUR: Squat thrusts.

I'm getting a glass of water.

HE CHOMPS LOUDLY

Paul, I need to see you.

-You're seeing me now.

-You know what I mean.

-Do I?

-Stop playing games!

I'm not playing games, I honestly don't know what you're talking about.

-I'm talking about us!

-Us? There is no us.

What have you got to say about that then?

Michael?

I brought you lunch, as requested.

Michael?

Michael?

< Ohhh...

Michael?

DOORBELL BUZZES

That'll be the sofa.

-Get away from me! You're nothing but a philandering liar.

-How dare you?

How dare you call me a philandering liar? You knew what the score was.

Don't pretend you didn't.

No, don't go. Kiss me. Please, please kiss me!

It's over, Samantha.

Very well, if I can't have you, no-one else will.

GUNSHOTS

Agh!

You fool! You stupid fool!

HE GROANS

Mother! What have you done?

He's...dead.

Oh, darling, darling, I'm sorry! I loved him! I loved him so.

So did I, Mummy. So did I.

BOTH WEEP AND WAIL

It'll be all right.

Let's take a break. Thank you so much, everyone.

Arthur, shall we record your lines now?

Just speak clearly into the microphone.

I'm sorry?

And the other one.

-The other one?

-The other line.

Goodbye, Samantha.

Great, thanks, Arthur. That's all we need from you today.

Was that not just the rehearsal?

No, you only appear in flashback, and we've got it now,

so we can just drop it in.

Oh! Oh, right.

And that's lunch! We've got a shorter than usual lunch break today

because Dame Agnes has to be away by four.

Sorry, everyone, crisis meeting with my publisher.

Simply got to find a title for my autobiography. God!

So don't go too far.

Thanks again, Arthur.

Well done, Arthur. Fancy a spot of lunch?

Oh, that's very generous of you. Thank you!

-There's a pub across the road.

-Oh, no, I mustn't go to the pub.

When I'm working, I'm on the wagon. Made that mistake too many times.

-Oh, go on, I'll look after you. You can have an orange juice.

-Hm...

No, really, I... really, really mustn't.

# Her name was Lola, she was a showgirl

# Yellow feathers in her hair and a dress cut down to there

# She could merengue and do the cha cha... #

How could you? How could you?!

Now, now, now, we mustn't be too hard on him.

He does seem to have a very low tolerance

for large amounts of alcohol.

HE VOMITS

OK, Luke, come on, let's go.

-Oh, no, no!

-Oh!

Come on.

What are we going to do? Seriously, if anyone has an idea

of how I can possibly rescue the situation, please do let me know.

And...action.

Paul, what are you doing here?

HE CLEARS HIS THROAT NOISILY

Your mother invited me for the weekend.

-Why?

-Don't look so shocked, darling, it's all perfectly innocent.

SLURRED: Samantha, would you rub some oil on my back?

I'm turning into some crisps.

I'm going to my room.

-Hurry, Samantha!

-All right, I'm coming!

Are you going to leave your trousers on?

I guess I can slip into my trunks. I am on me holidays.

Goodness! Look at you!

What? Oh, I suppose they are a bit snug.

I've never been one for boxing shorts. I prefer a little bit of...

If you know what I mean, Dame Agnes.

Ohhh...

-Some privacy, please.

-Spoilsport!

All right, I won't peek, I promise.

Paul, now Penelope's gone, I can ask you, what's going on?

Why are you here?

HE BAWLS: Oh, come on, Samantha!

We both know why I'm here.

I've always been able to tell when a wom-m-m-man wants me.

You... You can turn round now.

Dear me! How do you keep in such good shape?

Oh, you know...

Swimming, squat thrusts, getting a glass of water...

Oh, that's...! No! I'm getting a glass of water!

I need to see you.

You're seeing me now!

You know what I mean!

-Do I?

-Stop playing games!

I'm not playing games!

I-II honestly don't know what you're talking about.

I'm talking about us!

There is no us.

She's not right in the head!

What were you doing down there anyway?

I was looking for a fan letter Elvis Presley wrote my dad.

Elvis Presley was a fan of your dad?

Apparently.

I thought it might help the book.

All this because of Ronald bloody Harrison.

Every time he does something, I have to go one better.

It just goes on and on, back and forth, like ping...

..pong...

I'll be mo...

I'll be mother.

I'm not normally like this, you know. I am usually quite capable.

It's Arthur. Arthur's done this to me.

Arthur's turned me into a baby.

CHORAL RINGTONE

Hello?

My client got your client drunk? I don't have a...

..client.

No, don't go! Kiss me! Please!

Please kiss me!

We've got all this to do!

After.

It's over, Dame Agnes. I mean, Susan! Sarah! Samantha!

Very well, if I can't have you, no-one else will.

Aaarrgh! You fool! You've shot me!

GUNSHOT

Mother! What have you done?

Aaaarrgh! Urrrgh! Nnnngh!

Oooooeeerrrgh!

He's...

Wuurrrrgggh! Aaaaarrrgh!

Ooooorrrgh!

Urrrgh...

Mother, what have you...?

Uuuurrgh!

Aaaauuurrgh! Uuurgh! Aaaaagh!

Uuunnggghhh...

-He's...

-Wuuurrrghhh!

He's dead.

Oh, darling, darling, I'm sorry! I loved him! I loved him so...

So did I, Mummy. So did I.

BOTH WEEP AND WAIL

Uuunnngh...

Aaaaahhh... Uuunnngh...

Uuurrgh!

Bluuugggh!

Unnghh...

CORK POPS

ALL CHEER

Shush! It's about to start.

-There you go, Arthur.

-Oh, goodness me!

-It's a double celebration.

-Sinem liked the chapters I showed her.

-Very good!

Oh, I forgot to say, I loved that story about the ping-pong table.

So funny! Oh, your poor dad.

Yeah... Yeah, poor Dad.

Must have been a nightmare living with someone that competitive.

Not really. It's just who he was.

Oh, here, I meant to ask you.

Did you find that letter from Elvis Presley?

No, Arthur. I looked and looked but no sign of it.

I guess it's just one of those that history swallowed up.

No, not Elvis Presley. I'm always doing that. The other one...

Half A Sixpence. Tommy Steele!

-Never mind.

-It's starting! Who are you playing, Arthur?

-Paul.

You can't miss me. I'm in right from the beginning.

'Paul! What are you doing here?

LUKE: 'Your mother invited me for the weekend.

-'Why?

-Don't look so shocked, darling,

'it's all perfectly innocent.

'Samantha, would you rub some oil on my back? I'm turning into a crisp.

-'I'm going to my room.'

-I don't understand. I thought you were...

Didn't you say you were playing Paul?

That young fellow must have recovered.

They must have recorded it after I left.

Oh, well, it's for the best, I suppose.

Don't know what I was thinking.

Can't take a young lad's job, can I?

He's got his whole career ahead of him, not like me.

I'm yesterday's news.

'I'll never forget his last words to me.

ARTHUR: 'I'm sorry?

'Goodbye, Samantha!'

ALL CHEER

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd