Britannia Hospital (1982) - full transcript

Mick Travis is a reporter who is about to shoot a documentary on Britannia Hospital, an institution which mirrors the downsides of British Society. It's the day when Her Royal Highness is to visit the hospital to inaugurate a new wing, where advanced (and sinister) scientific experiments led by Prof. Millar will take place. Everybody in the hospital, from the cooks who refuse to cook, to the painters who couldn't care less to get their job done, to an African cannibalistic dictator (a la Amin Dada) whom demonstrators want expelled from the hospital and tried, will contribute to making HRH's visit (and Mick Travis's life) a true nightmare.

- What's for breakfast then?
- Sausage and beans.

Oh blimey, we've had that for the month!
Send for the Red Cross!

We're in the front line now, mate.

'Ere, ere's one.

Get 'im, Ken!

Bugger that for a lark!

- Eh, 'old it!
- 'OLD IT!

- What ya got 'ere then?
- One geriatric. Hypothermia.

No admissions except by union dispensation.

'Ave a look in the back, Bob.

Come on!



What's up with this one then?

Pulmonary pneumonia. About another
ten minutes to go, by the sound of it.

Doctor's certificate?

Got it somewhere.

"Needs intensive care".

Intensive here, Ken!

- Looks like a croaker.
- Okay, pass 'im through.

And don't bloody well come back!

There's another one for the nackers' yard!

He won't be playing Saturday.

'Ere, how are those bangers gettin' on then?

'Oi, watch it!

Anybody at home?

Wakey wakey, rise 'n shine!



Come 'n get it!

Keep smiling!

You can't leave that there!

- Where d'ya wannit?
- I couldn't care less. I've been off duty
for the past 10 minutes.

Got a light?

Thank you.

Time's up? Near as damn it.

Might as well have a cup of tea.

There'll be time for another hand later.

Bloody Hell!

What the bloody hell do ya think you're doin'?

'Ere, what's your name and business?

Don't be foolish, man.

Don't you call us foolish, Millar.
We're in our rights.

Insects!

- You bastard!
- We'll have you, Millar!

We'll get ya!

Overlord.

- Good morning, Feeney.
- Good morning sir.

- Big day for you Professor!
- Big day for mankind, Feeney.

Stand by, MacMillan.
I'm on my way up.

Good morning, J.M.

Good morning, MacMillan.

- Everything in order?
- Everything on schedule.

- Where would you like to start?
- I think we'll take components first.

Any problem?

98% stable.
We've had to replace the left buttock.

As I thought. And Genesis?

Alpha consciousness consistent.
Genesis is in perfect shape, Professor.

Genesis IS perfect, MacMillan.

MacMillan and Overlord. Intro.

- Left thigh.
- Bank 8.

Number 2.

A trifle over-fleshy,

...but a nice profile.

- Left buttock.
- Bank 3.

Middle tray.

We have alternatives, J.M.
Bank 6, numbers 3 and 4.

I'll take the alternatives.

- Thermostability?
- 4 degrees, J.M. Stabile.

Excellent.

- How is Macready progressing?
- Beautifully. We're expecting death
within the hour.

Splendid!
I have great confidence in Macready.

That was him.

He dyes his hair.

- Do you think he spotted us?
- No, we're less than the dust to him.

- Which is the west front?
- Over here.

Six floors down. From the flash as arranged.

- Mm, you've done your homework.
- I don't get complaints.

I bet you get around a bit!

Are you a Yank?

Citizen of the world, that's me.

I was born in Liverpool.

My father was a station master.
I started in coffee.

And where do you live now?

Arkansas.

I got out just in time.

Well you were dead lucky.

What's luck gotta do with it?
It's got nothing to do with luck!

Gotta find something to sell,
something that people want to buy.

- What, the inside story?
- That's it!

You've gotta have a nose for these things.

Oh, what's that you got there?

You see that truck, over there?

Yeah.

Now watch this.

Spider calling. Spider calling.
Are you receiving picture?

Come in control, come in control.

Receiving picture, Spider, receiving picture.

Come on, over here.

- You lot must be making plenty out of this.
- Well, we're not starving.

O'right then, fair shares.

Now look, chummy...

we had a deal. Now a deal's a deal. Savvy?

- But I could lose my union card over this!
- Well that's not my problem.

Look, Mr Travis, we're gonna be
a long way from the ground.

- Let's make it 250, eh?
- 100.

175.

- 150.
- Okay...

when we're back on terra firma.

Spider ready to craw, Spider ready to crawl,
are you receiving me?

Testing for sound, 1,2,3, testing for sound...

Come on, you piss artists!

Calm down, Michael.
Just getting ourselves comfortable down here.

Safe 'n sound.

Travis's getting itchy

Surprise me!

Hey relax, Michael.
We're on our toes. Just give us the nudge.

- What's the scene here anyway?
- Travis is onto something big.
One of his exclusives. Very hush hush

Again?

Well, it's great seeing you again Sammy.
Where've you been?

East.
Starving children of India.

Where did you spring from?

West, riots, revolution, rape...

Jesus, those banana eaters really
love ripping each other apart.

- All lovely prime time stuff.
- Yeah, I guess. Network.

It's gonna be a long day!

- What've ya got?
- It's a little Nicaraguan special.

Right from the Pampas itself.

All the blessings of God and
His Holy Mother on you!

Afghan black,

and, my dear friend,

holy mushrooms.

picked by these very fingers
on the slopes of the Himalayas.

- Hey, let's make a cocktail?
- Sail away!

...wave of explosions is spreading across the city,
13 more in the last 12 hours.

over 50 casualties have been reported,
22 of them fatal.

Looting and rioting have broken out.

Kids' stuff!

They'll learn.

Fires have spread from the
shattered embassy to adjacent homes.

30 people are feared dead and many may
still be trapped in the burning wreckage.

Residents in the area have been evacuated

And now a news flash:
there's been another bomb attack in London.

Fire brigades are managing to keep
the blaze under control,

but casualties are feared heavy,
and the death toll is still
rising. A warning 5 minutes before
the bomb explosion...

Potter here.

Yes, I've seen it.

And today of all days!
How many?

Right, alert all off-duty house surgeons

to report to accident and emergency

alert the S and O for blood transfusion,
Atkinson for haematology

and the mortuary. Right?

I'm on my way.

...more than 280 are so far feared dead
with many more burned and injured.
A special government representative
is on his way...

- Ace Taxis.

No ! I do NOT want Ace Taxis!

...WC train news: British Rail has announced
a number of cancellations as a result of

strike action by staff
and the 'go slow' by ticket collectors...

- Yes? - Potter
here. - Yes sir.

We've got a major incident. 150 at least.

Get down as fast as you can and hold the fort.
- Yes sir.

And get everybody there with casualty
as quickly as possible; it'll be
all hands to the pumps.

- Don't forget your meeting, sir.
- I'm not likely to, lad!

I can't let this affect today's arrangements.

- You alerted Millar, did you?
- He's had an ultra memo, sir. Two of them.

- Well send him another. We can't afford
any slip-ups. - I'll do my best, sir.

...Hammersmith and City lines on the
underground now have several trains missing,

due to sickness and non-appearance
of personnel.

Industrial action is threatened
on the Central and Northern lines.

...well on the roads. An articulated heavy goods
vehicle has broken down on the Mortlake road,
and the traffic is...

- Professor Millar's office.
- I want to speak to the professor personally.

Professor Millar is with Genesis.
I can't possibly interrupt him.

This is an ultra priority for Professor Millar:

Confirm top-level briefing

- 8.30 a. m., Mr Potter's office.
- Well I'll try.

Hold the fort, will you nurse?

Professor Millar?

The professor's very busy. Go away!

A message from admin.
Ultra priority.

Not now, MacMillan.

Have you ever wondered how God felt
on the sixth day of creation?

When will you give Genesis to the world?

In my good time.

Soon, J.M.

- Soon.
- Not quite yet, MacMillan.

Today, the human experiment...

Tomorrow...

Genesis!

Move back! Let us through! No pushing!

Let those people through!

Get these stretchers cleared away immediately!

- Now, not so fast.
- And don't you be shouting at us like that.

Don't you know you're holding up
the whole operation?

These people must go up to theatre immediately!

We've been on 8 hours now!

- We've been on overtime since 6.
- Triple time. We're over the 24 hour limit.

- Mr Biles!
- What's the hold up?

Mr Biles, these men are holding us to ransom.

Don't you call us men! We are staff!

- I think this calls for arbitration here.
- We'll get the union in on this.

There's no need for that.

- I can offer you time-and-a-half.
- Unacceptable!

Double time!

- What about meal break?
- A hot breakfast.

- What do you think, lads?
- We're talking about eggs and bacon here,
not just toast and porridge.

I don't eat bacon.

Sausages for Sam.

I've no authority for sausages.

- Well!
- Stalemate!

Sausages are on the nurses' breakfast.
I was planning them...

In the name of humanity!

- And in view of the emergency...
- But we're not setting a precedent.

-Right.
- Alright lads. Come on. Let's get these out
of the way.

You put that down there.

Alright everyone, this way.

Walking wounded, follow me!

Biles here.

Which kitchen?

I'll be right there.

So, with a couple of earthquakes,
three famines...

a hijack and
and a pre-emptive nuclear strike,

aren't we the lucky ones
to be tucked up all snug and cosy

here in Britannia Hospital.

Now, it's a very special day here in Britannia

so let's have some very special smiles
to go along with it.

Oh yes, it's Royal day today
here in Britannia

with our own very special Royal visitor

coming all the way down
from Buckingham Palace

to open up our bright and shiny
new wing.

Now what better way to start the day

than with thanksgiving
with the Padre

Oh Lord, open Thou our lips,

And our mouths shall
show forth Thy praise.

Oh God, make speed to save us.

Oh Lord, make haste to help us.

Oh Lord, show Thy mercy upon us.

And grant us Thy salvation.

- Where's Mr Whooley?
- Over there with the sausages.

Dunno what he's doing with them.

Mr Whooley?

It's no use, Mr Biles. I can't cook
breakfast for the entire hospital on my own!

It's the private patients.
Now they've got the unions supporting them.

That Ben Keating?s been stirring them up.

That's right Bilesy.

My boys and girls have had enough cowtowing
to your privileged pigs in the private wing.

Why can't they eat a decent English breakfast
like the decent ordinary folk in the
public wards?

Mr Keating, you know very well
that what they eat they pay for.

Listen to this:

"Sir James Burgess, room 15,

"Eggs Benedict, and
half a bottle of champagne.

"Miss Hamani Rigg-Hamilton,

"room 6,

"devilled kidneys
and a passion fruit cocktail.

"President Ngami... "

and he shouldn't be 'ere in the first place,
the fascist swine...

- Murdering black!
- Bog dictator!

Send the biggy back to wogland!

"President Ngami,

"trout grilled
and garnished with mango slices. "

This isn't the Nairobi Hilton,
this is a British hospital!

It's the same for everyone, or nothing at all!

That's our last word, i'n' it boys and girls?

Mr Whooley, see if you can get a call through
to cheerful Bernie.

- I'll have to take this higher up.
- You can tell your bosses we're standing fast!

Okay, okay. We'll blame it on the bombers,
no problem!

Oh dear, oh dear. If you've been sittin' there
waiting for your 'am and eggs,
lads and lasses...

you'll have to keep smiling a little bit longer.

Those naughty bombers have just
blown a fuse in the toaster.

But seriously, folks, the kitchens are a
bit behind dealing with our extra guests...

and now here comes somebody who knows
the whole kaboodle backwards.

Pray silence, if you will, lads and lasses,

for Matron Ducksbury.

Good morning all patients and staff.

In spite of this morning's shocking disturbances,

You may be sure that Britannia will continue
to serve and to succour

Unfortunately, the kitchens are
temporarily out of order,

but during the next hour there will
be a service of soft drinks:

with the choice of orange and lemon
barley water.

Patients due for discharge may give their
blood at casualty.

Come!

- Breakfast.
- You're damned late, nurse!

I've managed to get you an orange.

An orange?

- Come
- Good morning, General.

Breakfast.

- What the hell's this?
- A nice orange for your breakfast
this morning, General

I don't want your bloody orange!

I want my kipper!

What's all this noise?

- Get up at once!
- It's General Witherby, Matron.

- He won't take his orange.
- Absolute nonsense!

- They're in ferment, Matron.
- Have you served the president yet?

- Not yet, Matron.
- Give me his tray; I'll do it myself.

And stop playing about!

- What is this?
- The president's breakfast.

This is not what was ordered!

I'm afraid His Excellency's mango slices
have been delayed. This is the best we can do.

[talking in African language]

It's simply not good enough, Matron.

At the prices you're charging,
we're entitled to something better

- than a British Railways box lunch.
- It's a national disgrace!

I've driven a taxi for 25 years
to pay for this operation!

I'm not paying 200 quid a day for an orange!

250 pounds for me!

I have tried to explain to them, Matron.

With service like this, we might as well
be in a public ward.

A public ward? I'd rather die!

I didn't have 50 years in India to end up
bedding down with a lot of wogs!

I'm dreadfully sorry, but the matter
is out of my hands.

The nursing staff have no authority
over the kitchens.

However I'm sure things will be back
to normal quite soon.

18 seconds for 78-A and 78-B.

- Now what does that give us?
- 43 minutes.

42 minutes, 38 seconds.

That leaves us 5 minutes and 22 seconds
for the final component.

Yes, nurse?

Professor, Sister would like to see
you in Intensive.

- Macready?
- I think so, sir.

He's timed it perfectly.

Oh Houston, do we have compatibilities
for all the alternatives?

That wasn't in the specification, Professor.

Let me have another look at the print-out.

Yes.

My error, I'm afraid.

You'd better recheck the entire component
assembly on the computer

feed in the complete cross fertilisation

and compatibility data.

I must have 100% accuracy
on all alternative factors.

- Professor Millar?
- We can't afford a hiccup!

Right! This is it!

Sammy, Red, we're on our way.

We're cutting it a bit fine.

- Macready's already 8 minutes past
his deadline.
- We still have 14 minutes in hand, Professor.

We can't afford to fall behind schedule
at this stage.

- Termination?
- I'm afraid not, Professor.

He seems to be lingering.

Dr MacMillan, a moment please.

[whispering]

Sister, Professor gets a little peckish
at this time of the morning...

Could you be kind enough to pop down to
the canteen to get him a digestive biscuit?

Oh, and a glass of milk please Sister.

I'm afraid he's gone.

- Eh, hold it steady!
- Cor, lovin' this!

Get out of there, will ya!

Hello Sammy, Hello Red?

Are you getting this?

Come in Sammy, come in Red...

Every chicken has 9 square inches
of living space.

Vitaminised water is always on tap.

The hard-working chicken is a good friend
to man.

And now, on this happy, snappy morning,
we come to our usual menu spot

As you all know, we've had gremlins down
in the kitchen today

but here to tell us all about the celebration
lunch she's been cooking up for us is...

Florrie, our queen of culinary concoction.

Hullo everybody.

The special menu planned for today
features, we hope, a choice of three:

meat loaf, stewed neck of lamb,
bacon and egg flan...

all with creamed potatoes and gravy.

Pudding will also be a choice:

bread and butter pudding, suet roly poly
and cherry sponge with custard.

And finally, as an extra treat,

a chocolate mint will
be served to all patients

in honour of our Royal visitor.

- Bad luck Vincent. Pipped you at the post!
- You ought to be careful, Phyllis.

Your members will find themselves without
a mother hen one of these days.

- What have you got there?
- My glad rags for the do.

It's not every day I get the chance
to have lunch with royalty!

We're very pressed for space at the Royal
lunch, Phyllis. I can't guarantee it,
I'm afraid.

I'm not speaking for myself,
you know Vincent.

I represent 600 men and women without whom
your hospital would not be able to function.

I'm not likely to forget that, Phyllis!

I've collaborated with you for
10 years, Vincent Potter.

I'd hate to see that collaboration
broken over a question of protocol.

This celebration is for all of us.
The old days have gone forever, Vincent.

Britannia belongs to the people now.

No smoking on the job, Vi.

Madge, I hope you're not going to greet
Her Royal Highness wearing those overalls.

Don't forget that invite, Vincent.

- I can't promise you, Phyllis.
- I've not laid out 95 pounds on this outfit
for nothing.

And remember...

an insult to me is an insult to every
non-skilled operative in this hospital.

Now, just you think on!

- I understood that this work was to be
completed yesterday!
- Nearly finished now, sir.

We're only being paid for an
8 hour day, Mr Potter.

You'll have to be out of here at 10
at the latest.
We have a Royal occasion here today, you know.

- That's just the point.
- You want a professional job doing, don't you?

Mr Potter!

Mr Potter!

- Are they coping in casualty?
- Everything's running smoothly, sir.

- Keep an eye on it lad.
- Um, Mr Potter.

Yes, what is it now?

Trouble in the kitchen, sir.

The staff are refusing to serve breakfast.

- Why?
- They won't fill the private patients'
orders, sir.

It's Ben Keating again.
I'm afraid he means trouble.

Well don't stand there looking at me,
think!

The private patients are going to have ordinary
hospital food. We can't risk a confrontation
today.

- Why didn't I think of that, sir?
- Because you're a fool!

Yes.

Well don't stand there hovering!
Get back to the kitchen
and settle it. I've got important people
waiting for me.

- Good morning, Mr Potter.
- Yeah

Oh, Mr Potter, Matron and Mr Figg and
the gentleman from Scotland Yard
are in the Princess Victoria suite.

And Mr Potter...

They've called from the Palace to say Sir
Anthony Mount is on his way with Lady Ramsden.

- I've got a bleep out for Professor Millar
and Sir Geoffrey.
- You'd better re-bleep them, Miss Tinker.
We're running late already.

- Any news of the radiographers?
- They've settled for 12%.

- And the psychotherapists?
- They're working normally.

Oh, if Biles has any news from the kitchens,
send him through.

Ah!

This is our Mr Potter, Chief Superintendent...

the man behind today's plan of campaign

- This is Chief Superintendent Johns, from
Scotland Yard.
- Superintendent

I'm sorry to be late, gentlemen.
You've probably heard, we're running under strain.

- Another bomb this morning.
- Yes, please be seated.

Lady Ramsden and Sir Anthony Mount,

Sir Anthony, Your Ladyship...

Lady Felicity and Sir Anthony are from
the Palace. They will be our advisors
on protocol.

This is Matron Ducksbury.

Chief Superintendent Johns, who will
be looking after security.

Our Mr Potter, senior administrator.

Please be seated.

We were held up, I'm afraid, by those pickets
at the main gate.

They bother me, gentlemen.

HRH cannot be involved in any
political... [unintelligible]

I beg your pardon.

- Political nastiness!
- Can't you get rid of them

Arrest them!

- Perhaps an appeal could be made.
- Impossible.

They're hospital employees, making a
legitimate protest in their spare time.

- Which they have far too much of!
- Sack them!

My dear Sir Anthony, we're not living
in the 19th century.

If you want to bring this hospital to a
standstill, that's exactly the way to do it.

Oh, I'm sorry gentlemen.
The operating theatres are chockablock.

Ah, this is Sir Geoffrey Brockenhurst.

Lady Felicity Ramsden and
Sir Anthony Mount from the Palace...

- and Chief Superintendent Johns from the Yard.
- Yes, hello George.

Carry on Figg.

This is the 500th anniversary of the foundation
of Britannia Hospital

by Royal Charter from her late,
gracious Majesty Queen Elizabeth I.

And we are indeed privileged
to welcome her noble descendant

whose presence will add
lustre to our celebrations.

And today also marks another milestone
in Britannia's history:

the official opening of the new Millar Centre
for Advanced Surgical Science,

a generous gift from our friends at
Banzai Chemicals, Tokyo.

Now in order that today's programme should
run with clockwork precision,

our Mr Potter has masterminded a
plan of campaign

which he will now explain in detail.
Mr Potter...

As you all know, Her Royal Highness will arrive
at the hospital main entrance

- at 11.15 a. m.
- A point...

After 11.00 hours

no persons must be allowed to show
themselves on the roof

or at the upper storey windows.

- Why not?
- I have snipers planted in the grounds.

Make a memo on that, Miss Diamond.

Will do, Mr Figg.

Now you'll see from your maps, Ladies and
Gentlemen, the route of the Royal visit.

It can be divided into three phases:
phase 1, arrival and tour

phase 2, luncheon

phase 3, the opening of the Millar Centre
for Advanced Surgical Science

and Professor Millar's address
and demonstration.

Isn't the great man going to
honour us with his presence?

Where is Professor Millar?

- I've bleeped him red, Mr Figg.
- Well you'd better re-bleep him, Miss Tinker.

Urgent, double red.

Now then, Matron, have you made
a selection of patients for presentation?

- I have.
- Nothing too gruesome, I hope!

As they shrank, the seas cast millions
of unadapted aquatic creatures...

onto newly created beaches.

Deprived of their familiar environment,
these died.

Only a fortunate few,
organically suited to amphibian existence,

survived the shock of change.

Today, the human race is undergoing a
change as catastrophic.

Those who cannot adapt will perish,
washed up on the shores of the future.

- It is our job...
- Hold it!

Have to change the mag.

- Sorry about that, sir.
- I'll give you an overlap.

- That was super, Professor.
- Not too rarefied?

- No, just like that. Absolutely super.
- Thank you.

Damn this thing!

Okay, running...

20, take 1.

Action!

Today, the human race is undergoing a
change as catastrophic.

Those who cannot adapt will perish,
washed up on the shores of the future.

Come with me.

And what is the most powerful, potential
weapon in man's possession?

His own brain.

The human brain, made up of
10 billion neurons...

each neuron, the possibility...

of a thought.

We could have 10 billion ideas if we could
only find the way to harness fully

the energy and potential
of the brain.

And what is more, it is
extraordinarily nutritious.

93, right index. 3.2 seconds.

94-A and C, right and left thumbs,
6.5 seconds.

What is it, nurse?

Doctor, my head is splitting,
I really need to lie down.

We are on duty, nurse!

- Professor Millar's in conference.
I really can't disturb him.
- This is double red.

- The party from the Palace are waiting
in admin.
- Very well, I'll try.

- ... right to the centre of the brain,
and hitherto...
- Professor Millar

Yes

I'm sorry to interrupt you, Professor

Mr Potter is bleeping you
double red from admin.

I'll be with him in a jiffy, Houston.

Sorry about that, Peter.

- Oh, that was super! Super for atmosphere.
Got that Rick?
- Naa, sorry, missed the entry.

Would you mind too much, doctor?,
Could you give us that again?

- The whole bit?
- From the top.

- I'll give you action, and Reg'll be waiting
for you.
- Certainly.

Stand by.

Nurse, quick, please, a mirror!
I need a mirror, quick, please.

- Thanks.
- Action!

- Yes?
- I'm sorry to interrupt you Professor,
the party are here from the Palace,
and Mr Potter...

Where the hell have you been?

It's freezing out there!

Psst, the camera.

Come on...

Come on!

90% of the human brain shows a bare
minimum of electrical activity, virtually dark.

We call this the "limbic silent zone"

It represents a clear activity source
of unlimited potential.

I have been exploring the organic
expansion of this limbic zone.

My aim is nothing less than its full occupation.
Then we shall see wonders. We are on
the threshold...

Wait here.

- What?
- Wait here!

37-F, 37-D, 41-A

39-A, 36-D.

two, zero.

Left lung, 2 seconds slow,
upper gut, 4.3 seconds fast

Liver and lights trailing 6 seconds.

Once again, from position 15...

Reform!

29-A, 13-B, 7, 19-C, 21-B, 11-H, 18-K, 26-B

Section 8. At 12.17, Her Royal Highness
will leave and proceed directly to the
Princess Victoria Suite

for presentations and luncheon.

Now there is a name which I think has
been unfortunately omitted from

those invited to lunch at HRH's table:

I am referring to Mrs Grimshaw.

- And who is Mrs Grimshaw?
- She is the Branch Secretary of COHSE,

the Confederation of Hospital Service Employees.

- If you invite one union representative,
you'll have to invite the lot!
- Oh, God forbid!

- I really don't think...
- Sorry Potter, it's just not on.

Of course, we don't want to embarrass
Her Royal Highness

Gentlemen, I'm - and Lady Felicity -
I must speak frankly:

I cannot guarantee the stability
of this hospital

unless the duly-elected representatives of the
workforce are permitted to demonstrate
their loyalty.

What do you think, Chief Superintendent?

My responsibility ends at the door.

How many of these representatives?

Three will do it.

No more than three.

Right then, that's settled.
Um, make a memo Miss Diamond.

Will do, Mr Figg.

And after lunch?

We all proceed to the Centre for the opening
and Professor Millar's demonstration.

And when are we to be privileged to
hear the exact nature of this demonstration?

- You mean you don't know?
- Oh surely!

No doubt we shall hear the details
from Professor Millar himself.

He is on his way now.

The whale, the porpoise and the dolphin
have brains 20 times larger than man

yet man has learnt to write, make fire and fly.
Where did these extraordinary gifts come from?

Dead centre of the human brain,
lies the legendary pineal gland.

The ancient Egyptians and the Aztecs
knew a thing or two about the pineal gland

and so did the Greeks. But all that's
been lost over the past 5,000 years.

There is incredible power locked up in there,
power which has never been unleashed...

because it has been thought beyond
the ability of mankind to control it.

I know how to control that power.

One final detail: catering.
Miss Tinker?

Luncheons are coming from Fortnum?s.

Their top executive menu at 45 pounds a head,

with champagne and two wines.

Flowers from the Royal Horticultural Society...

...begins the miracle, a miracle
for every member of homo sapiens.

Sorry everyone, sorry, sorry!

- I hope I haven't kept you waiting.
- Professor Millar...

...this is Lady Felicity Ramsden
and Sir Anthony Mount from the Palace.

How do you do?

And Chief Superintendent Johns from the Yard.

- Who are these people?
- Oh, this is Peter Mancini of the BBC

and his expert crew.

Peter is doing me in depth - for the Beeb.

This is sheer publicity seeking! It's
against all medical ethics. Get off!

I can assure you I have no need
to seek publicity.

- Mr Mancini, I must ask you to withdraw.
- Yes, I'm afraid we really must insist.

And take these people with you.

Sorry, Peter.

Apologies gentlemen, no wish to offend.

We'll wait for you outside, sir.

We've covered most of the details in
your absence, Professor Millar...

there just remains the question of
your lecture and performance.

Demonstration!

What will this demonstration
consist of, Professor?

- Man remade.
- And what is that supposed to signify?

- Exactly what it says.
- I don't like the sound of this.

I hope it won't be anything offensive!

We'll be lucky if that's all it is!

It'll mark the beginning of a
new epoch in medical science.

Medical science?

You're not a doctor, you're a vampire!

To you, patients aren't suffering beings
to be cured, they're raw material for
your ego mania!

My transplants work!

They are the future.

- Whose future? I save life every day!
- Gentlemen, gentlemen.

If medicine was left to people like you,
surgeons would still be operating in
barbers' shops!

You'll never rise above your
mastectomies and gallstones!

Charlatan!

I can change life!

As, gentlemen, ladies...

you will shortly be privileged to witness.

- That man's an unmitigated blaggard!
- And dangerous, to boot.

Mr Figg, I need your assurance

that Millar's demonstration will not
be offensive to HRH.

Sir Anthony, Professor Millar's methods may
be unorthodox, but he is a genius in his field.

As is Sir Geoffrey in his.

Yes Biles, what is it?

- It's the kitchen staff, Mr Potter. They're at
flash point!
- Well didn't you follow my instructions?

It's escalated, sir. They're refusing to
admit the Royal Luncheons. They're picketing
the Fortnum's van!

Excuse me ladies and gentlemen.
I shall have to deal with this personally.

I suggest we meet in exactly 15 minutes
in the main hall for our tour of inspection.

Biles!

We shall not, we shall not be moved!
We shall not, we shall notbe moved!
Just like a tree, that's standing by
the water side...

This could be a major confrontation.
Stick close to me, lad.

That's it. C'mon show 'em we mean business!

You can take your luncheon and muck
away Potter, we aint buyin' it!

You know where you can put it, Potter!

Ah, hello Potter. About time!

- Now what's going on here? - Get that
van unloaded at once! - Don't budge, girls!

Nothing doing, Potter.
Those lunches are staying in that van.

Good morning, Mr Potter.
Rochester, of Fortnum's.

I must ask you to take delivery of
65 "Ambassador Class" lunches. Adrian...

- What's this?
- An invoice, sir.

2,925 pounds, 80 p.

- Including VAT?
- Of course.

These lunches are non-returnable.
They'll have to be unloaded.

- This van is needed elsewhere.
- Biles!

- Get those lunches out of the van.
- Assist him, Adrian.

Any further and we'll knock your
blocks off!

That stuff is not coming in, Potter.

Oh now, look Ben,
we don't need any ugliness, do we?.

I'd like to talk to your men.
We're all good friends here.

So let's have some reasonable dialogue
on this, shall we?

- Alright, Potter. - Good chap.
Biles! - They're all yours.

Alright, alright, boys and girls, we'll
hear what Mr Potter's got to say. Gregory...

I'm not here to order,

I'm here to appeal.
Now this is a great day for Britannia

- and we can't insult our distinguished guests.
- Those lunches are an insult.

They're implying my people are not skilled
enough to produce food worthy of royalty.
We're not wearing it, Potter!

- He's calling us "work shy".
- Isn't our cooking good enough for her then?

- 'Ere, where she think she is, the Ritz?
- Yeah, what d'she want, caviar 'n chips?

- Ben, perhaps we can have a quiet word?
- Your pleasure.

Give it to him, Ben!

We shall not be moved, Ben!

Ben, I know these occasions mean a great deal
of extra work for you and don't think
it isn't appreciated.

It's not the work, Mr Potter, it's the
insult to their professional pride.

Oh no, that's a complete misunderstanding.
How tactless of me.

Very willing to apologise, Ben.

I'm sure my lads and lasses would
appreciate that.

Of course you realise, Ben, they're going
to need someone to represent them
at the ceremony.

I was going to ask you
to sit with HRH at her table...

- but of course if the meals aren't...
- That's a gesture...

my people certainly appreciate.

Very often on these occasions, when a
worker's representative is singled out

for special duty of this kind,

he may find he's expected to accept some
token of acknowledgment...

an MBE

What about an OBE?

It's possible.

Lads and lasses,

I'm happy to tell you the management
are listening to reason.

From this time on,

no special meals will be served under
any circumstances to the private patients.

But, to avoid any unnecessary embarrassment
to our Royal guest...

I've agreed, that on this occasion only,
the lunches may be served.

I'm sure you'll agree, boys and girls,

this represents a significant victory
for democracy, I thank you.

Thank you my good friend Ben,
and all of you for showing once again

- that the British working man...
- and woman!

And woman...

...will always put unity before anarchy,
loyalty before self,

common sense before disruptive strife.
God bless you all.

[singing 'Auld Lang Syne']

Friends

and colleagues...

in 15 minutes we will begin an
operation which

will crown the months,

nay, years
of our work together.

We have worked not for glory,

nor for reward,

but in the pure benevolent spirit

of science.

Be sure that whatever honours
may accrue to me

as conceiver and designer
of this great experiment

your part in it will not
be forgotten.

Galileo, Freud and Einstein

gave a new dimension to humanity.

Today, we follow in their footsteps.

We have 48 minutes exactly
in which to carry out our operation.

Absolute precision of timing is essential.

Dr MacMillan, preliminary check, please.

Component inventory by tables:

- Table 1?
- Table 1:

Thorax, right kidney,
left lung, aortic artery,

- lower right femur, liver and lights.
- Table 2?

Spine, bladder,
upper gut, pancreas, right buttock

Table 3?

Left digitals, knee-caps right and left, spleen,
right shoulder and chin.

Table 4?

Right shank, left elbow,
ankles, big toes.

Nurse Persil for Overlord. Intro...

All equipment fully functional at 0 minus 15.

Proceed by tables to final component assembly.

Final component assembly.

What the...

- Who are you?
- What are you doing here?

- Who is that?
- What is that he's got there?

What's going on?

Explain yourself!

Get rid of him!

Ngami, Ngami...

Fantastic.

President Ngami's presence in Britain

has aroused strong protests
including several threats against his life.

Hey, they don't like this guy.
Why, why not?

He eats children.
He shits diamonds.

- Ngami...
- This is epic.

- Hey, where's ol' Mike?
- Apocalyptic!

- Where's Mike?
- I've gotta get this on film.

Hello Spider?
Red calling Spider.

Ngami...

Superstar...

C'mon Mike, wake up!

Caucasian, male,

age about 32,
extraordinary cephalic development,

light concussion,
nothing structural.

Nurse Persil,

give this man a 55 cc injection of
sodium pentothal the cerebral artery

55 cc's, Nurse Persil.

Amanda...

Nurse Persil?

The cerebral artery...

Not this one, Peter.

Only 95 minutes left now before
the Royal arrival.

And everybody is climbing into their
glad rags - even me.

Oh, what a glad day this is going to be!

The padre has given us a special blessing,

Florrie is giving us a special lunch,

and if you listen carefully

you can hear all those wonderful
loyal subjects out there

who've come here just so that they can
catch a glimpse

of our special, special visitor.

One, Two, Three, Four,
Kick Ngami out the door!

Five, six, seven, eight,
He's the one that we all hate!

Hey Red, check in!

- C'mon, let's get into it!
- It's about time we had some action
around here.

Those pickets are getting very rowdy,
Chief Superintendent.

- We're counting on you, Johns.
- Oh, we've got an eye on them, sir.

Apologies, ladies and gentlemen.
Everything is sorted out.

Now if you'd care to follow me, we'll
commence the route marked out on your maps.

I thought I'd told you to be out of here by 10.

- We've been waiting for the right colour,
Mr Potter.
- This stuff they sent along just doesn't match.

We've got pride in our craft, sir,
just the same as you.

You've got another 10 minutes, then I'm
having all this stuff removed and you with it.

Victory Concourse, where Her Royal
Highness will commence her tour.

- Matron?
- With 53 wards and over 1,100 beds,

Britannia is the senior hospital
in the south-west catchment area,

providing complete medical care
for a population of 2 and 3/4 million people.

Our nursing staff of over 3,000

handles a turnover of approximately
90,000 patients a year.

We cannot of course hope to demonstrate
the full range of our activities to HRH,

but we have endeavoured to make a representative
selection. We start through here...

The Sebastopol ward...

- women's post-operative. One of our oldest
- and quietest.

- Who have you got for us, Matron?
- Fourth on the right, Miss Rowntree.

One of our easiest patients, Miss Rowntree.

She's been with us for 2 years.
She's completely paralysed - stress.

Her sister was lost in a plane crash
in Iceland.

A gradual deterioration.
She can only communicate with her eyes.

Eminently suitable.

If you'd like to follow me - through here.

Our most respected foreign minister
since Palmerston.

Terminal, I'm afraid.

Our friends from the Palace,
Sir Hubert.

They wouldn't listen to me.

You wouldn't listen to me!

"this scepter'd isle,

"this other Eden, demi-paradise,

"this precious stone
set in the silver sea

"this blessed plot, this realm,
this England... "

He's gone.

A pity!
He'd have appreciated a visit.

The Rudyard Kipling ward,
Britannia's most modern installation,

brilliantly equipped last year at
a cost of ?2 million.

Donated by the Masonic brotherhood.
Sir Geoffrey?

Well, the Kipling is our pride and joy,

it features all the most advanced
nursing techniques.

Closed circuit video and radio systems
enable one nurse

to tend the needs of 17 patients
instead of 3.

- And all equipment in this ward is
British designed and made.
- Sir Anthony.

The astronauts have passed the last section.
And the world stands waiting as the seconds
tick by...

30, 29...

Very impressed!

Unfortunately, the ward is not in use
at this moment in time.

Shortage of cleaning staff.

3, 2, 1...

Blast off.

Perfect start. Mankind makes
another great leap into the future.

Blimey! Evita!

What's the matter?

- Well, nobody told me it was Christmas!
- There's nothing demeaning in showing
respect, Ben.

It's nice to see you in a tie.

Borrowed it off one of the lads.

- Hello, 'ere's another candidate for the
House of Lords.
- Ben, Phyllis...

I never thought I'd see the day!

If only my dear old granddad could've been 'ere!

- That must be his suit you're wearing!
- It's a bit tight.

Take no notice of him, Tom.
You look a real gentleman.

- What are we supposed to call 'er?
- Don't know - I've got butterflies.

- Your Highness, of course. She's a Royal,
in't she?
- Your Royal Highness, surely!

- Well, I'm not gonna call her anything.
- Ben!

I've always wanted to eat at Fortnum's!

Lady Felicity, Sir Anthony:
This is Mrs Grimshaw,

of COHSE.

Mr Ben Keating, of NUPI.

and Mr Tom Sharkey,
of the Amalgamated Union of Engineers.

Now when you meet Her Royal Highness,

the ladies curtsey,
the gentlemen bow.

And you say: "Honouredtomeetyoumaam".

How's that again?

Pardon?

Honouredtomeetyoumaam.

Honoured to meet you, maam.

Now shall we try?

All together!

Now!

- Honoured to meet you, maam.
- Honoured to meet you, maam.

I'm sure we can do better than that.
Lady Felicity?

Now watch.

Honoured to meet you, maam.

Now try again.

Honoured to meet you, maam.

Much better, much better.

Oh dear!

- That's not industrial action, is it?
- No, out of the question.

- I hope there's not going to be any trouble?
- No, no, it's alright Sir Anthony.

We have full auxiliary supplies
in case of an emergency.

Biles, you'd better run down to
the boiler room and check with them.

My boys wouldn't be party to any
insult to the Royal Family!

- I'm pleased to hear that.
- One final thing: when you shake hands
with HRH, you don't grip...

just the lightest of touches.

Quiet a moment!

That's a crowd!

Good Lord!

Wild devil, Ngami,
Come out!

- This is an outrage!
- That's Elisha Odingu, or I'm a Dutchman!

The Peasant Revolutionary Party demands
vengeance for your atrocities!

Vengeance! Vengeance!

- This is a disaster!
- Disaster? It's a catastrophe!

Can't say I didn't warn you, Mr Potter.

...a big welcome to our brothers

and our sisters
of the International Revolutionary Movement.

Their struggle is our struggle!

Capitalist imperialism is our
common enemy.

Capitalism means war, unemployment...

poverty, racial and sexual oppression.

Only by complete destruction of capitalism

can we make an end to the exploiters,

the vermin who threaten us and our
children with their death-dealing...

...how it's getting out of hand!

We'll respond to violence with violence

Red to Spider. Where are you?

Red to Spider. Let's hear from you!

- Hey, what are you up to?
- Come on!

- Let's make movies!
- Hey, come back!

Movies!

Sammy, why...

And now, with their media lackeys

who hide human suffering into entertainment
for the capitalist bourgeoisie...

Come and get me, crush me!

On top of the world!

There is no way I can authorise a visit
by HRH under these conditions!

You gave us your assurance that there
would be no unpleasantness.

- But this is quite beyond our jurisdiction.
- We can't cancel now, there's too much
at stake.

That's not a usual crowd.

- They're the riff raff of the welfare state.
- Well not my people!

That's your lot out there, Ben.
Why don' you get them under control?

They've been provoked beyond endurance.

Arse holes!

Ooh, my face!

Don't panic.

Tom, help me with these shutters please.

- Sir Anthony, contact the Palace, tell them
to divert HRH.
- Here's an outside line.

- I'm not going to go blind, am I?
- Now just sit very, very still.

What's that? Battersea Dogs' Home?
I dialled 1-23-99-00!

Please get off the line!

Ah yes, here's a teeny bit of glass.
Tweezers?

Tweezers.

No, I do NOT want a mini-cab!

Now, this may hurt a bit...

Uuf!

Brave girl.

The Palace, sir.

Put me through to Commander
Ferris immediately! Purple Alert.

Commander, Mount here.
We've got trouble down at Britannia.

You must deflect HRH.

She's already left.

- She's on her way!
- Tell them to use the radio.

Use the radio.
It's malfunctioning.

What do you mean it's malfunctioning?

It's up the creek!

The radio's malfunctioning.

Then send a helicopter!
- Righty ho.

They've lost contact with HRH.

- This is all terribly unfortunate.
- You'll have to cancel the ceremony.

- You mean surrender?
- Well there seems to be no alternative.

Never!

I LOVE this hospital!

It's my whole life!

It's been wife, mother, child to me;
I've given it everything!

And nothing's going to wreck it!
Nothing!

No one!

We're with you Vincent.
My members will stand fast.

I gave you my word, Mr Potter,
and I'll stick to it.

You can count on my lads.
They'll keep things going.

Don't worry. The emergency system
will come on in 3 seconds.

One, two, three...

Sabotage!

- Johns, call the riot squad immediately!
- They're standing by, sir.

Get me the boiler room immediately!

Johns here, SPG.

SPG? I want the boiler room!

What boiler room?

- It's sabotage, sir! They're joining
the demo...
- The boiler room, not a minute to lose.

- What? Where are you going? Get back to work!
- Strike action, Mr Potter.

- Workers' solidarity
- Private patient chows.

- You're fired!
- We've taken over.

Go on, get down!

The lever over there, on the left...
Pull it down.

- That's the one.
- Hey, you!

Get away from there! What d'ya
think you're up to? Get out of it...

That was a close shave!

- Cartilage?
- Completed.

- Fibula?
- Integrated.

- Rectum?
- Functional, sir.

We will proceed.

Ultimate component, Dr MacMillan, please.

That last power failure, doctor...
the refrigeration unit's packed up.

The ancillary motor's malfunctioned.
I don't like the look of the head.

Ultra red emergency, sir.
15 seconds' hold.

We've lost the head, J.M.

You're right.

It's beginning to pulp.

That intruder... Bring him out!

Temperature, nurse?

He'll do. Onto the table.

MacMillan?

- Cleaver.
- No, Professor, no!

Out of my way, woman!

Cauterise and continue.

Standby with laser needle.

Darling...

Your work will go on.

there is an end to imperialism!

an end to privilege!

Where are you off to?

Solidarity, Potter.
We're joining our lads outside.

- Larger loyalties, Mr Potter
- We're all on the same side, lads!

Not in a class war, we're not. Not in
the inevitable march of socialism, Potter!

What about the few?
Remember the Battle of Britain!

- Remember the peasants' revolt!
- Remember the thin red line!

Remember the Odessa Steppes!

You wouldn't know Karl Marx
from a toffee apple!

This hospital is run

on ?125 million

of your money every year

for the privileged few lying in there,

when ordinary people are dying
in the gutter.

Privilege is a crime!

Private patients are criminals!

- Private patients out!
- Private patients out!

Whisky Romeo 3 and 7, come in.
This is Foxtrot control.

I'm fearful, Johns.

If HRH falls into the hands of THAT mob,
there's no knowing what might happen.

Private patients out! Private patients out!

How long can your men hold them,
Chief Superintendent?

My men will stand firm to the end, sir,
but that's a dangerous mob. Yes?

They're peasants!

...getting completely out of hand!

My forces located HRH.

Tell them to stall her for 5 minutes;
I've got a plan.

- Hold everything!
- Biles, how many have we got in the
private wing?

Twenty-six, sir. Thirty-five including
President Ngami and his retinue.

Right, that should satisfy them.
Get me the Red Cross on the other line.

Phyllis, you're not deserting us?

No such thing, Vincent Potter.
Me and my girls stay true to our word.

- Do you have a petticoat on under that outfit?
- Yes.

- White?
- Of course.

- Good, get it off!
- What?

Well come on, come on girl, get it off,
we've got no time to waste!

I'm going out.

Laser needle.

Full power!

Request for parley.

Come forward, in peace.

Let them pass.

Let Comrade Potter through!

The path of progress conquers!

The way of reason prevails!
Death to privileges!

Today the principles of equality
have won a great victory.

Britannia Hospital

will no longer offer privilege to
the wealthy few.

Britannia's private patients
will be ejected!

And in return, comrades, we will
show mercy.

Ambulances are waiting to
carry the victims

of this morning's bomb disaster
to this hospital.

Stand back brothers!
Let the ambulances through.

Now...

Thank you.

Now... Power...

On.

Excellent.

Surprising!

Now increase to full consciousness level.

Welcome!

Welcome to the world!

Get it off me!

Take it off, take it off!

Get me a cleaver, a cleaver!

Your hand!

It's nothing - minor abrasions.

Stand back!

NOOOOOO!

Farewell.

So much for the humane solution.

That dream is over.

It shall be as she wished.

Today, I will give Genesis
to the word.

Oh, dear oh dear oh dear.

- Thank God they don't know she's here.
- Yet.

Honoured to meet you maam.

Superintendent, can you guarantee
the safety of HRH?

Sir, she's as safe here as
in Windsor Castle.

Just look at all those comedians, eh!

What a sight!

Look at that uniform!

Would you mind?

Hey man, that's her!

- They got her inside!
- The lying bastards!

They've tricked us! We've been had.
The Royals ARE inside!

Things are getting out of control!

- There's only one thing to do... - cut the
tour, - and the lunch - and advance
the ceremony.

- Biles, check the red carpet, and
the orchestra. Alert Millar.
- Yes sir.

Get all this stuff out!

Sweep the exploiters from the
face of the Earth!

- Equality!
- Equality!

Wait!

This is disgraceful. Quick, do something!

- Disgraceful. There can be no excuse for this
kind of behaviour.
- We've got to cut this short.

This is disgraceful!
HRH must be protected.

- This is no good. Get her inside now!
- But this is the Japanese anthem!

To hell with that anthem!

Potter, get the key!

Stop! Get them off!

If you please, maam.

May I?

Oh, I'm sorry.

Tell them to hold the Centre at all costs.
Deploy skirmishes right AND left.

- Scum!
- Don't distress yourself, dear.

Don't antagonise them!

Bastards! Bastards!

Open up! Open up!

Open up, open up, get these doors open!

Feeney! Open these doors!

Please, please...

...should be only 10 seconds.

Ladies and gentlemen, please,
you are perfectly safe.

Those doors are fitted with
an electronic locking device

and can withstand unlimited pressure.

Now I must ask your indulgence for a few
moments. There will be a short delay

and then Professor Millar's demonstration
will proceed according to plan. Thank you.

Ah, there you are Peter.
Come on in! Down to the front.

These seats are reserved.

Your Royal Highness,

ladies and gentlemen,

the demonstration is prepared.

Your Royal Highness,

ladies and gentlemen,

we live in an age of revolution.

Revolution in thought,
revolution in society,

revolution in technology.

The revolution of today is transforming
our world more violently

than the Industrial Revolution which
gave man power over the natural forces

which had controlled him for
20,000 years.

We are entering a new era.

I am going to show you the
face of that new era.

They're in, sir, they're in!

They've got us outnumbered, Mr Potter.

- We can't hold them back!
- Don't panic!

Prepare to evacuate!

NO!

Keep your seats! Everybody!

LET THEM GO!

LET THEM GO!

Little men, little men,
do you claim to speak for the future?

We do!

- And who speaks for you?
- I do!

Come forward!

Come forward in peace, and
I will show you what the future means.

Let them through!

Follow me.

Take a seat.

Friends,

fellow members of the human race,

we are gathered here for a purpose.

Let us look together at mankind.

What do we see?

We see mastery.

What wonders mankind can perform!

He can cross oceans and continents today
as easily as our grandfathers crossed
the street.

Tomorrow, he will as easily cross
the vast territories of space.

He can make deserts fertile,

and plant cabbages on the moon.

And what does man choose?

Alone among the creatures of this world,
the human race chooses

to annihilate itself.

Since the last world conflict ended

there has not been one day in which
human beings have not been slaughtering

or wounding one another in 230
different wars.

An man breeds as recklessly
as he lays waste.

By the end of the century, the population
of the world will have tripled,

two-thirds of our plant species
will have been destroyed,

55% of the animal kingdom,

and 70% of our mineral resources.

Out of every 100 human beings now living

80 will die without ever knowing what it
feels like to be fully nourished,

while a tiny minority

indulge themselves in absurd
and extravagant luxury.

A motion-picture entertainer
of North America

will receive as much money in a month

as would feed a starving South
American tribe for 100 years!

We waste!

We destroy!

And we cling like savages
to our superstitions.

We give power to leaders
of State and Church

as prejudiced and small-minded
as ourselves,

who squander our resources on
instruments of destruction

while millions continue to
suffer and go hungry

condemned forever to lives of
ignorance and deprivation,

and why is this?

It is because mankind has
denied intelligence,

the unique glory of our species:

the human brain.

Man is entering an era of
infinite possibility,

still imprisoned in a feeble,
inefficient body,

still manacled by primitive
notions of morality

which have no place in
an age of science,

still powered by a brain that has
hardly developed

since the species emerged
from the caves.

Only a new intelligence can save mankind!

Only a new human being of pure brain

can lead man forward into
the new era.

I do not speak of dreams...

such a being exists already.

I have created it. It is here, now.

Prepare yourselves to meet
the human of the future.

Neither man, nor woman,

greater than either.

I have given it a name:

Genesis, "Birth".

A new birth,

a new beginning for mankind.

People of today,
behold your future!

behold your future!

100,000 times more powerful

than your brain, or mine.

And in 5 years' time, this brain
will be out of date.

This spongy, finite, vulnerable substance

will be replaced by a silicon chip

1/8th of a millimetre square.

Within 50 years it will be possible
to contain

the entire world of homosapiens

in a matchbox.

You see the face of the future,

now hear its voice...

What a piece of work

is a man!

How noble in reason,

how infinite in faculty,

in form and moving.

How express

and admirable

in action.

How like

an angel

in apprehension.

How like

a god !