Bartleby (1970) - full transcript

Updated to 1970s London, this faithful adaptation of Herman Melville's classic follows a young accounting clerk rebelling against his employer by responding to demands to do work by saying, "I prefer not to." This is carried on ad absurdum until the office is in chaos because the other employees must do Bartleby's work. His boss is unable to fire or help him and eventually has him placed in a mental hospital. Paul Scofield (A Man for All Seasons), John McEnery (The Duellists) and Thorley Walters (TV's "Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy") star in this impeccably mounted study of employment, insanity, and the rigors of everyday life from one of literature's most acclaimed geniuses.

(TRAIN RUMBLING)

(INDISTINCT TANNOY ANNOUNCEMENT)

BARTLEBY:
"Name.

"Address.

"Telephone number.

"Date of birth.

"Nationality.

"Education.

"Social Security number.

"Previous employment.

"Give two references.



"Position and salary."

(MACHINERY WHIRRING)

(DIALLING)

(PHONE RINGING)

-(TRAIN RUMBLING)
-(PHONE CONTINUES RINGING)

(COINS BEING INSERTED INTO PHONE)

-WOMAN: Yes? Hello?
-BARTLEBY: Hello?

WOMAN: Hello?
Will you hold, please?

(SUSTAINED TONE)

(PHONE BEING DIALLED)

(PHONE RINGING)

(COINS BEING INSERTED INTO PHONE)

WOMAN: Hello?
Can I help you?

BARTLEBY:
Yes. I...



I want to find out about
the job advertised in the paper.

Hello?

WOMAN: Yes? Hello?
Can I help you?

BARTLEBY:
Yes...

Yes, I want to find out about the job
advertised in the paper.

Hello?

Hello?

Audit clerk?
Fifth floor, turn right.

Fifth floor, turn right.

(TYPEWRITER CLACKING)

-Yes?
-I've come about the job advertised.

That was a week ago.

But I think it's still available.
Just a minute.

Fill this in, will you?

Sit down.

Will you come this way, please?

Good morning.

Come in.

Sit down, sit down.

You're looking for a position
as audit clerk here?

Tell me, have you ever done
this kind of work before?

Yes.

I see.

Where have you worked before?

I worked in the Post Office,
in the dead letter section.

Oh, really? How interesting.

I've often wondered
what happens to letters

that can't be delivered
and can't be returned.

(CHUCKLING)

But, er... what does all this
have to do with accounting?

Nothing. I was going to say,
I was then transferred

to the controller's department
as an audit clerk.

Good. So, you've had experience
with accounts and bookkeeping?

I was...

an audit clerk.

Well, work here is on a smaller scale,

though some of our larger clients
require all our resources.

I take it you're familiar with, um...
double-entry bookkeeping, but, er...

have you had experience with, um...

computer-based accounts
and programming?

No, thank you.

(CHUCKLING)

Now...

tell me a little bit
about your background.

Um...

I put it all down
in the application.

Yes.

I see. I see.

Hmm. Hm-hmm.

Well, I always like my applicants
to do a little test for me.

See what you can do with this.

Hmm.

Hm-hmm.

Hmm.

Perhaps we should, er...
discuss your salary?

The salary is not important.

Anything reasonable
will be all right.

"Anything...

"reasonable"?

(CLEARING THROAT)
Indeed. Quite.

(CHUCKLING)

We're surrounded by other firms
in this sizeable building,

but we're still a tight-knit,
happy little family.

And, of course, you must appreciate
that here we expect an employee

to stay on
a minimum period of time.

It's no use to us if you
disappear after a few months.

And, if things work out,

there's always a chance of
something more senior, more permanent.

Well, do you think this job
is your kettle of fish?

Now, take your time to answer.

I will...

accept.

You... accept?

I see.

You accept.

-(WHISTLING)
-(TYPEWRITER CLACKING)

(WOLF WHISTLING)
Hello, lovely.

Give us a kiss.

Go away.

(BLOWING KISSES)

Hello, hello, hello, hello!

(CHUCKLING)

'Ere, John.
Get a load of this one.

Twelve women go in a fridge.
How many birds?

Go on. Twelve women in a fridge.
How many birds?

Twenty-four blue tits!
(LAUGHING)

No?
(CHUCKLING)

Twenty-four blue tits!
Yes, blue tits!

Would you come this way, please?

(MACHINERY CLATTERING)

-Twist or stick?
-Twist.

Who is this
Bartleby character, anyway?

He's the new clerk.

Well, I don't think
he's so bad, really.

-(MEN LAUGHING)
-Ah, get out of it!

'Ere, I bet you he's queer.

No, I don't think so.

You know, I think he must be
epileptic or something.

-You mean he has fits?
-Yeah.

No!

Here he comes.

MAN:
Hmm. Beat twenty.

Bartleby!

(TAPPING)

Bartleby, come in here.

And bring in the Prebble file
with you, please.

BARTLEBY:
I would rather not, just now.

When you're ready.

Come in when you're ready, Bartleby.

Miss Brown?

Oh, yes. Er...

Take these to Tucker, will you?

Oh, er, by the way...

What's Bartleby up to?

I don't know, sir.

(LOUD THWACK)

ACCOUNTANT: (OVER INTERCOM)
Bartleby?

Let's get going on
these new accounts.

I want to show you
what I want done.

I don't think I'd like to
just at the moment.

What do you mean?
I don't understand.

I've asked you once already.

BARTLEBY: I mean,
I prefer not to go over the accounts.

Are you mad?

What do you mean,
"prefer not to"?

I want to show you what to do.

Tucker, will you
come into my office, please?

Who the hell do you think you are?

I've got my work to do.
You've got yours.

And I'm not doing yours for you.

(KNOCKING)

Tucker, Bartleby seems to be
having some difficulty.

Could you and Dickinson look after
the Prebble account for the time being?

If you ask me to.

Though I don't see why
I should do his work.

Just for the time being.

Until I get Bartleby organised.

(PHONE RINGING)

(RINGING STOPS)

It's a hell of a life, isn't it?

Yes, I...

Itis.

What do you do with yourself,
Bartleby, in your spare time?

-Do you smoke?
-No.

Do you drink?

Do you gamble?

Where are you from, then?

Oh, it's, er...

What?

Nothing.

What do you do?
For fun, I mean.

I go for walks.

A lot.

-Walks?
-Yes.

I like to...

look at things.

I see.

Do you?

Really?

See?
Well, I'm not blind, am 1?

You're a bit strange.

I'm not...

strange.

I know...

what I think.

(SNORTING)

(MASSED CHEEPING)

Bartleby... Um, Tucker.
Would you come into my office, please?

TUCKER:
Yes, sir.

-Bartleby, could you come in, please?
-BARTLEBY: Yes.

What is wanted?

Sit down.

Now, Bartleby...
Sit down.

I want to check the procedures
for the Prebble account

and verify our results so far.

With the three of us,
it'll be faster.

I don't feel I can...

just at the moment.

What on earth do you mean by this?

I would prefer not to say.

"Prefer not to"?

What do you mean,
you prefer not to?

Are you refusing
to co-operate?

I prefer not to.

But look here,
this is normal practice.

It's an excellent way
to save work for both of you.

You verify your work
with the same stroke.

Kill two birds with one stone,
as it were.

Don't you?

I would not like to
kill two birds with one stone.

(SIGHING)

It's simply common practice here.

It's not unreasonable.

Well?

-What do you think of it?
-Think of it?

I think he should do
what you ask him to do.

But am I unreasonable?

No, sir. Not at all.

I think he's a bit round the bend.

You see, Bartleby,
my demands are reasonable.

(CHUCKLING)

This office isn't exactly
a slave labour camp, is it?

(FORCED LAUGH)

Go and have lunch.
Think about it.

Oh, I say, I...
I can't find anybody on deck.

Would you be so good as to
look after these for me, please?

I would prefer not to.

-I... I beg your pardon?
-I would prefer not to.

I... I see.

I'll leave them on the desk, then.

Well, why don't you just sack him?
Could I have the sugar, please?

Sack him?

Oh, I know it seems
the most obvious solution, but...

I can't quite bring myself to do it.

He's so utterly civil.

So dignified.

And he's actually a most
efficient worker, except he...

refuses to do certain things
from time to time.

It's a sort of...

passive resistance.

Oh, yes?
Well, what's he against?

Nothing.

Nothing.

It's a mood. It's his manner.

If I humour him a bit,
I feel sure he'll come round.

He could be a first-class clerk.

He needs someone
to take him in hand.

In another firm,
he wouldn't stand a chance.

No, he'd be sacked immediately.

(SIGHING)

It's funny, I always end up
giving him a chance,

even though he irritates me.

I'm damned if I'll let him
get away with it.

But then I just wonder
how far he'll go.

I wonder how far
he would go.

You know, you ought to
listen to yourself.

You're obsessed with this character.

Do yourself a favour.
Get rid of him.

People in the profession
are beginning to talk about it.

Your Bartleby will
queer your reputation,

and put off clients.

-Really?
-Mmm.

Oh, well ,there's a limit.

But, you know, he's there
first thing in the morning,

and last thing at night.

In his way, he works hard.

I'll bring him round yet.

If not, he'll have to go.

Look, it's very simple.

Go back to the office,
call Barnaby in...

-Bartleby.
-Bartleby.

Call him in and say,

"Right, young man. We have a
system of working accounts here,

"and either you
sit down and learn it,

"or out you go."

Yes...

Yes, you're right.

I have to admit,
you're absolutely right.

Yes, well I must get back now.
Er... Let me treat you.

-No, no, it's on me.
-Oh! Well, thank you.

Thank you very much.

I'll see you next week, then.

(QUIET CHATTERING)

Now, Bartleby,
let's get something clear.

We have a system
of working accounts here,

and either you sit down
and learn it with us,

or out you go.

Do I make myself clear?

(CLOCK CHIMING)

Right, young man...

Bartleby, you're fired.

Bartleby, could you come in, please?

(DOOR OPENING)

Now, Bartleby.

Er... I'm putting you back
on the Prebble account.

I've looked over this account,
and it requires a different approach.

Let's check the procedures together.

First of all, it's going to be
a computer-based account.

I'd prefer not to.

Look here. You're not going to
keep this up, are you?

What the hell's the matter with you?

Do you belong to
a union or something?

Bartleby!

Er... A client round the corner

has some files I must have
over the weekend.

Just go round and
pick them up for me, will you?

I would prefer not to.

You're not serious!

You mean you will not.

I prefer not.

I don't believe my ears.

Look here, we work
in a certain way here,

and you have no business
ignoring it.

Just get on with it!

I've decided to do
no more accounts today.

Monday morning.

Monday morning!

(CHATTERING)

(MASSED CHEEPING)

(CHURCH BELLS RINGING)

(CAR DOOR CLOSING)

(RATTLING)

(LOCKING DOOR)

Why don't you listen to me?

I am listening to you.

Why don't you do what I ask?

I'd prefer not to.

"Prefer not to."

Well, at least give me an excuse,

a reason why
you insist on this attitude.

Are you in trouble?

Are you ill?

I mean, has something happened?

Give me some kind of explanation.

Try to make me understand.

Please understand, whatever I say
will not explain.

All the tins and bottles
and papers I have thrown away,

and will have to throw away,

what will become of them?

What will become of him?

My God.

(FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING)

(DOOR BEING UNLOCKED)

I'm not quite ready yet.

-Morning, sir.
-Oh, good morning!

Bartleby.

Look here, would you
come into my office for a moment?

I'm not going to ask you to do
anything you would prefer not to do.

I just want to talk to you.
All right?

Where do you come from?
Where's your home?

Where were you born?

-(FOOTSTEPS OUTSIDE)
-MAN: Morning.

Will you tell me anything
about yourself?

I'd prefer not to.

But why?

It's on my application form.

I only thought I might help.

I know you've been
working pretty hard.

Perhaps you'd like a week off,
to go home?

Well?

What do you say?

At present, I'd prefer
to give no answer.

(TYPEWRITER CLACKING OUTSIDE)

Look here,
this has gone far enough.

I've let this go on for weeks,
allowing you special conditions.

You're living here!
You're actually living in my office!

Let's start from scratch.

In the first place,
you cannot live in my office, man!

Find yourself a room!

And if you want to work here,
you must accept the routine,

like the others.

Just promise me
that you'll start co-operating,

and go over the accounts
as required,

and start being
a little reasonable.

At the moment, I'd prefer not to be
a little reasonable.

(CROCKERY CLATTERING)

Here we are, sir.

(PHONE RINGING)

Do you prefer one lump, or two?

I'd...

prefer two, please.

-How are you today, sir?
-Well, thank you. And you?

Could be better.

Aha! Teal

TUCKER:
Don't ask him.

He'd "prefer not to",
thank you very much.

OFFICE BOY: Yeah, don't ask him.
"Prefer not to."

Who the hell does he think he is?

Why should I do the work
he prefers not to do?

-Give him the sack, mate.
-Well, he's a passenger in this firm.

Do you know, I'm
doing twice the work I did

when old Webster
was here, you know.

I would prefer to be
left alone in here!

If you don't mind.

All right, everybody.
Please get back to work.

I'll handle this, thank you, Tucker.

Right? Okay?

Miss Brown will show you into my office.
I'll be with you in a minute.

Bartleby.

Will you please start work?

Are you going to
start work today or not?

I've decided not
to do accounts anymore.

Bartleby...
(SIGHING)

I think we've come to
the end of the road.

I can't sacrifice my business
for the sake of your moods.

I've decided not to keep you on.

You've forced me to this.

I'm going to give you a cheque
for two weeks' salary,

and a little extra to help you.

I don't hold anything against you,

and, if you need
a letter of recommendation,

our misunderstanding
will remain private.

Please leave by
the end of the week.

I'm going to be away
on business next week.

Goodbye,

and good luck to you.

It is inconvenient
for me to leave now.

-(PHONE RINGING)
-Damn it, here's your money.

Take it,
and go as soon as possible.

And please leave the key!

Yes! (CHUCKLING)
Yes, I did!

I finally sacked him!

What?
(LAUGHING)

Oh, I think he'll be
pretty decent about it.

Anyway, how about
a spot of lunch?

Usual place?

Okay.

(CHUCKLING)
See you later.

(SIGHING)

(SIREN BLARING)

(TRAFFIC SOUNDS)

(CAR HORN HONKING)

(RATTLING TYPEWRITER)

-Here's some more work.
-Here's the mail for you.

-Good night, Jean.
-Good night.

-Good night.
-Good night.

-Good night.
-Good night.

(DIALLING)

(PHONE RINGING)

I'm not afraid
to talk to myself.

Everybody does.

But they don't hear themselves.

And they're...

afraid to hear one another.

(MASSED CHEEPING)

(THREE BEEPS)

WOMAN'S VOICE:
At the third stroke,

it will be one thirty-five
and ten seconds.

(THREE BEEPS)

At the third stroke,

it will be one thirty-five
and twenty seconds.

(THREE BEEPS)

At the third stroke,

it will be one thirty-five
and thirty seconds.

(TWO BEEPS)

Not yet.
I'm not quite ready yet.

(CAR HORN HONKING)

I'm disappointed in you, Bartleby.

I thought you had
a certain discretion.

I thought you'd make
a dignified exit.

Now, will you leave me?

Will you kindly quit my office?

I'd prefer not to leave you.

What right do you have
to stay here?!

Do you pay rent?
Is this your property?

Anyway, I dismissed you!

Is it normal
to live where you work?

You haven't touched the cheque.

What did I do
to deserve all this?

You're persecuting me.

Are you prepared to change
your attitude and start work now?

(SNAPPING FINGERS)

(SIGHING)

(INAUDIBLE)

Hello?
Mr Cruikshank, please.

Oh, good morning.

Er... Last week, I looked at
your office to let in King Street.

Is it still available?

It is! Good!

How soon can I move in?

Right.

Will you prepare
the lease for me?

Thank you.

Goodbye.

I have decided
to move to new offices.

There will be no
further need of your services.

I have terminated your employment.

Therefore, you will have to
quit this office.

(SHOE LEATHER CREAKING)

(CAR ENGINE STARTING)

(CLOCK CHIMING)

Out!

I told you to go away!

Go away!

(PHONE RINGING)

Hello?

Yes, this is our new office.

What?

What, now?

I can't. I really can't be
responsible for him.

He's given me enough trouble.

(SIGHING)

Yes, he was employed by me.
Emphasise "was".

(CHUCKLING)

But we've vacated the building.

Well, that's his look-out.
And your look-out.

Well, throw him out, then.

Look, I would...

er...
prefer not to be involved again.

Why should my name
be dragged into this?

Can't we handle this discreetly?

Oh, all right. All right.

I'll come and see
if there's anything I can do.

(CAR HORN HONKING)

Oh, there you are.

You've got to get rid of
this Bartleby character.

If you can't get him
out of the building,

I shall have to
call the police.

I'll give you five minutes
to get him out.

What are you talking about?
Five minutes? I'm not responsible.

I represent
the tenants of the building.

It's all right for you.
You've moved.

Do you expect us all to move?

-Do you know what your Bartleby does?
-He's not my Bartleby.

He's squatting here.
He lives in the building.

Every morning,
he's either sitting on the stairs,

or standing in the entrance
like a bloody zombie.

I'm not the only one
who's complained.

There's no means of
getting rid of him except by force.

Either he gets out,
or we get out.

Now, calm down.
Calm down.

Look, you were the last person
to employ him.

So you get him out.

What on earth made you
employ a character like that?

All right, I'll do my best
to get him out.

But let's get this clear.
I'm not responsible.

It's just that...

if I can help, I will.

What are you doing, Bartleby?

Sitting on the stairs.

Do you realise you're
causing me great embarrassment

by hanging around here
after I've left?

Look, you can't just stay here.

If you don't go,
you'll be taken away.

Why don't you...

try and get another job,
in a different line of work?

I don't think you're suited
for an accountants' office.

What about working in
a travel agency, for instance?

No, I don't think so.

Though I'm not particular.

Well...

what about working
for an airline?

Or a shipping company?
On a ship, perhaps?

I don't think so.

I'd prefer to be stationary.

Though I am not particular.

Then stay here.

I wash my hands of you.

I'm going to leave.

Bartleby, I think you should
see a doctor.

Let me help you
get to a hospital.

(DOOR OPENING)

I'll give you a lift in my car.

Or perhaps you'd like to
see my doctor?

I'll take you home.

Perhaps he can straighten you out?

No, thank you.

I'd prefer not to be
straightened out.

(SIREN BLARING)

(SIREN STOPS)

(INAUDIBLE)

(POLICE CAR ENGINE STARTING)

Bring him forward, please, Nurse.

I would prefer not to eat today.

Oh, nonsense. Come on, try.

Not good. Hmm.

Thank you, Nurse.

How's Bartleby coming along?

He seems a lot better, Doctor,
but of course he's still very weak.

Hmm. I think if we let him
walk in the garden once a day

it might get him interested
in living again.

Yes, Doctor.

Come along, Bartleby.
Up you get.

That's it.

(INAUDIBLE)

You can't miss it.

Go down the steps, turn left,
and walk across the lawn. All right?

-Thank you.
-Not at all.

-Is that your friend?
-Yes.

He's a bit odd, isn't he?
He doesn't eat.

I know you...

and...

I want...

nothing to say to you.

I didn't bring you here.

But isn't it better
this way, perhaps?

Someone will look after you.

This isn't a bad place.

You've got a garden...

open sky...

television...

regular meals...

I know where I am.

You know, you're his only visitor.
Is he related to you?

No, no. He's...

He was employed by me.

Well, who is he?
Where does he come from?

I'm afraid I don't know
very much about him,

except...

he worked in the dead letter section
of the Post Office.

Really?

Well, we're glad he has a visitor.
It might help him pull through.

I think you'll find him
in the garden.

Thank you.

-Bartleby?
-WOMAN: He's asleep.

Bartleby...

(INAUDIBLE)

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