Jeeves and Wooster (1990–1993): Season 3, Episode 3 - Cyril and the Broadway Musical (or, Introduction on Broadway) - full transcript

The latest misfit whom Aunt Agatha has short-sightedly ordered Bertie to take under his wing is Cyril Bassington-Bassington, a young aristocrat whose mother has sent him across the Atlantic to cure him of his obsession with the theatre.It is the worse thing she could have done. Cyril goes to a Broadway show, gets involved with a chorus girl and becomes a star of the musical theatre himself touring across the States. Bertie also has to help portrait painter Corky with his love problems.

(Woman) Now get along with
you. Get along with you!

A spell in the New World
will do you a power of good.

You'll be far from the temptations
of London's theatrical life.

Your mother is very
disappointed in you, Cyril.

This last episode, in joining a company
of acrobats, was really the last straw.

Now, Cyril, take this letter
to my nephew in New York.

He will look out for your interests.

Bertie will help you to
find a good, steady job.

''Dear Bertie,

''This is to introduce
Cyril Bassington-Bassington.

''At all costs, ensure he does not come
into contact with theatrical circles.''

(Bertie) Sorry.


- Sorry.
- Well, you're allowed to blink, you know.

Oh, really?

Oh, l wish you'd relax, Bertie.

- What do you mean, relax?
- Move your lips when you speak.

Won't it come out blurred?


Well, that's enough for today, anyway.

l say, dashed exhausting, this.

- (Knocking at door)
- That'll be Muriel.

l might give this to my Aunt Agatha.
She thinks l do nothing in New York.

Are you ready to come to rehearsal yet?

Bertie, this is Miss Singer.

lt would be wonderful if you
could help us, Mr Wooster.

Oh. How do you do?

This is George Caffyn. George
writes plays and that sort of thing.

- Hello.
- Muriel and l are engaged.

What about your uncle?

- My uncle will just have to lump it.
- Corky's just being brave, Mr Wooster.

l'm sure he'll see
you're perfect for Corky.

No. All he'll consider is that l've taken
an important step without his advice.

- He'll cut my allowance,
- (Whimpers)

and try to force me to go
into the jute business again.

- Jute, eh? Oh, yes, l see, l see.
- Bertie, are we going to rehearsal?

Yes, right. Look, l tell you what.

l promise you l'll give this
matter my best attention.

lt would be wonderful if you could
think of something, Mr Wooster.


? What a wonderful smile, do
you hear the bells ring, dear?

? lt's the promise of spring,
dear, you're just in love

? What a wonderful mood,
couldn't buy it with money

? Bet you'll say it with
honey when you're just in

? You're just, you're just in love

? You're just in love ?

Good. We need to pick it up from the
bridge a little, but it's coming along fine.

This is where the butler
tells you the house is on fire.

So, blah, blah, blah,
panic, panic. Off you all go.

- You want to take over, Herman?
- Thank you.

- Well, what do you think?
- Terrific. l love the song.

We haven't cast the part of the
butler. You wouldn't want to play it?

No, l'm a complete fool
at that sort of thing.

lt's a small part, but we're
looking for an Englishman to play it.

No, l played Brutus at school once,
and l was the one everybody stabbed.

Thank you, Jeeves. Now, Jeeves,

l'm going to see Corky's uncle,
who's in the jute business.

To tell you the truth, l'm
a bit foggy on what jute is.

lt's something the
populace is pretty keen on,

because Corky's uncle has
made a hefty stack out of it.

Jute is a fibre from the bark of
the plant Corchorus capsularis, sir.

lt is imported from Bengal, and used
in the making of canvas or gunny.

Canvas or gunny. Yes, that's made
things pretty clear, Jeeves. Thank you.

- Will that be all, sir?
- Yes, that'll be all, thank you, Jeeves.

- Oh, Jeeves.
- Sir?

This gunny stuff.

l mean, l know about canvas, but
gunny seems to have slipped my mind.

Gunny is a coarse material,
chiefly used for sacking, sir.

Ah. Right, of course.
Sacking, gunny. Gunny, sacking.

Thank you, Jeeves.

Mr Wooster, sir.

Ah, Mr Wooster. Welcome to our country.

Ah, right. Well, thanks awfully.

Please, sit down, Mr Wooster.

lt's always a pleasure
to meet another jute man.

l love jute.

You see this model of a yellow-bellied
sapsucker? Made entirely from jute.

Good Lord!

This entire edifice you see around you.

- Built on jute.
- Really?

Pretty useful stuff, then.

- Frankly, l'm surprised to see you here.
- Oh? Well, the thing is...

You British usually
import directly from lndia.

Yes, generally speaking,
we do. We import...

Don't get me wrong. l can supply
you with a thousand bales a week,

360 a bale, FOB.

FOB? l don't think we
want any of that, no.

You're in the manufacturing line,
aren't you? Animal feed bagging?

Ah, yes, that's right, yes.

Dog biscuits, cat...erm...things.

Erm...sacking, sacking.

All sorts of sacking.
And sack races, of course.


Yes, er...that's...that's our main line.

Um... And we're right at the
start of the sack race season now.

- So we're snowed under at the moment.
- Mr Wooster...

Mr Worple, do you ever think about love?


- Raising a family?
- Are we talking about jute?

The patter of tiny feet. The...erm...

Right, well...thank you.
We'll be letting you know.

Yes, well, he's not the easiest of
chaps to get along with, l imagine.

But l'd say he was impressed.

What did he say about
us getting engaged?

- l didn't mention that.
- What?

For a good reason. The whole
thing suddenly became clear to me.

All you do is work it so your uncle
makes Miss Singer's acquaintance

without his knowing that you know her.

- Then you come along...
- How can we make it work that way?

Ah, yes, well, that's the catch.

There's only one thing to do. Leave
it to Jeeves. Now, let's get a cab.


Ah. Now, Jeeves, we want your advice.

Very good, sir. Good
morning, Miss, Mr Corcoran.

Miss Singer, Mr Corcoran's fianc?e.

l hope you'll be very happy,
Miss Singer. Congratulations.

Yes, yes, yes, Jeeves. Now, the
difficulty is that Mr Corcoran's uncle,

being accustomed to working with
canvas, which doesn't answer back,

doesn't like Mr Corcoran
doing anything without asking.

He won't like Corky getting
engaged. Which he has.

- To Miss Singer.
- Quite, sir.

So, my thought was, if Mr Worple
made Miss Singer's acquaintance first,

or what he thinks is first, and then
along comes old Corky, a newcomer...

l understand, sir. l do have an
idea which l believe fits the bill.

Good Lord, Jeeves!

The scheme l have, sir, while certain of
success, does require a financial outlay.


Oh, now, look here, Miss Singer.
Don't start crying, for heaven's sake.

Corky, you can count on me for all that.

- Carry on, Jeeves.
- Thank you, sir.

l suggest Mr Corcoran take advantage of
Mr Worple's attachment to ornithology.

How did you know my uncle
was interested in birds?

l read with great pleasure
Mr Worple's two books,

American Birds and More American Birds.

l was going to suggest that
Miss Singer write a small volume,

entitled, let us say, The
Children's Book Of American Birds,

and that she dedicate it to Mr Worple.

A limited edition at your expense, sir.

l don't see how that's going to help.

A great deal of the book will be
given over to eulogistic remarks

concerning Mr Worple's
own treatise, sir.

And l would recommend the dispatching
of a presentation copy to Mr Worple

immediately on publication.

- l can't write a book.
- Oh, yes, you can.

l don't even write interesting letters.

lt would be simple to find
some impecunious writer,

who would be only too glad to
compose the volume for a small fee.

lt is only necessary that the young
lady's name appear on the title page, sir.

Couldn't you do it, Mr
Jeeves? l'm sure you could.

You seem to know so much
and you talk so nicely.

- l hardly think...
- You could, you know, Jeeves.

(Tyres squealing)

You don't believe in stop lights?

l say, look here!

(Jeeves) Very good, sir.

l'll do that, sir.

l shall inform Mr Wooster, sir. Goodbye.

- Well, Jeeves? - A Mr Cyril
Bassington-Bassington, sir.

Never heard of him.

He was telephoning from
a police station, sir.

He was requesting for you
to go round and bail him out.

Of all the dashed nerve! Fellows
phone you out of the blue and...

Well, never mind. Look, you leave
all this to Jeeves and me, all right.

Jeeves will get writing and l'll...
Well, l'll do everything else.

- Wonderful.
- Pip pip.

Yes, nice girl, that,
Corky's found himself, what?

Very charming, sir.

Now, this fellow who
phoned up from chokey.

- A Mr Bassington-Bassington,
sir. - You've heard of him?

l am familiar with the name, sir. There
are the Shropshire Bassington-Bassingtons,

the Hampshire Bassington-Bassingtons
and the Kent Bassington-Bassingtons.

So the world's stocked up on
Bassington-Bassingtons, then?

- Tolerably so, sir.
- No chance of a sudden shortage!

Presumably not, sir. Apparently, he
is a prot?g? of Mrs Gregson's, sir.

What? Aunt Agatha?

How long has he been in New York?

- He arrived this morning, sir.
- What is Aunt Agatha going to say?

Ah. What ho, Cyril. l got your message.

- Are you Bertie Wooster?
- Absolutely.

- Mrs Gregson said you'd look after me.
- Oh, did she?

- This is my man, Jeeves.
- What ho, Jeeves. Rotten country!

- Oh, l don't know, don't you know?
- Why don't the police dress properly?

Why don't they wear helmets? They
look like postmen. Dashed confusing.

l was rambling along, and this
fellow prodded me with a stick,

burbling about jaywalking.

l don't see why a fellow should
come 3,000 miles to be burbled at.

- So what did you do?
- l prodded him back.

Then he biffed me in the eye and lugged
me off. Still, that's all sorted out now.

You know, what l'd really like to do while
l'm here is see lots and lots of shows.

- Keen on the theatre, are you?
- Oh, l'll say!

Why don't l drop you off at a pal
of mine's rehearsals, he won't mind.

l'd really like that.

? love

? What a wonderful mood,
couldn't buy it with money

? Bet you'll say it with
honey when you're just in

? You're just, you're just in love

? You're just in love ?

(Rapid typing)

Should any of you children be
lucky enough to visit California,

you may catch a glimpse of the
acrobatic little Mexican chickadee.

You will learn much more about
this rascal when you are grown-up

and read Mr Alexander Worple's
wonderful book, American Birds.

? Ask Dad, ask Dad

? That's all they ever say

? Ask Dad, ask Dad

? They take your breath away

? Never seems to flurry them,
old Pop's the perfect backup

? Doesn't seem to worry them
that Daddy's due a crackup ?

This is from George's show. You know
Freddie Flowerdew's come to star in it?

No, sir. That intelligence
had passed me by.

lt's his first American musical.

Anyway, this is the opening number.
He's got all these daughters, you see.

- ln the show, that is.
- l understand, sir.

The trouble is, the song is written
for Freddie and a chorus of girls.

lt's all marked here. Wherever it says
two big Fs, that's for Freddie Flowerdew.

Not quite sure what
the little fs are for.

Possibly they indicate fortissimo, sir.

Possibly, Jeeves, possibly. Anyway...

To do the thing justice, l've
got to approximate a chorus,

so if you join in on all the bits
that are not marked with a big FF.

l'll do those, we can
do the chorus together.

- l shan't be required to sing falsetto, sir?
- Falsetto, Jeeves?

lf l am to sound like
a chorus of ladies.

Might do the trick. Let's try it.
We'll do the first verse again.

Very good, sir. (Clears throat)

(Falsetto) ? Ask Dad, ask Dad

(Baritone) ? That's all they ever say

(Falsetto) ? Ask Dad, ask Dad

(Baritone) ? They take your breath away

? Never seems to flurry them

(Falsetto) ? Old Pop's
the perfect backup

(Baritone) ? Doesn't seem to worry
them that Daddy's due a crackup ?

- l don't think so, Jeeves. Do you?
- lt does strain the laryngeal region.

Excuse me, ladies. The house is on fire.

- What?
- lt's all right. lt's my line from the show.

- Show?
- Your friend George gave me a part.

- Oh, Cyril, that's terrific.
- lsn't it?

We carry on rehearsing
for a couple of weeks,

and then we go on the road until we find
a Broadway theatre that will take us.

You've landed on your feet!

lt's only a small
part, but it's pivotal.

Of course, what l really
want to do is films.

Everybody says l've
got the profile for it.

? What a wonderful mood,
couldn't buy it with money

? Bet you'll say it with
honey when you're just in

? You're just, you're just in love ?

Excuse me, ladies, the house is on fire.


l wonder if that line's
quite right, George.

Wouldn't he say something more like,

''lf you'll pardon me mentioning it,
ladies, the house is on fire.'' Hmm?

Oh, that's fine, Cyril, if you'd
be more comfortable with it.

''As Mr Alexander Worple says in
his famous book, More American Birds,

''lf you see a sanderling spinning round
in the water like a top, it's a phalarope.

''You see, children, phalaropes
do look very like sanderlings,

''but they're famous for spinning
round and round in the water.

''This is a picture of
the Northern phalarope.

''lsn't he a handsome little fellow?''

(Bertie) l say, it's
rather grand, isn't it?

- What do you think, Jeeves?
- Very handsome, sir.

Your masterpiece.

We sent a copy off to Uncle Alexander,
and Muriel's had a reply already.

Read them the letter, Muriel.

''Dear Miss Singer, thank
you for your charming letter,

''and what a good book A Children's
Book Of American Birds is.

''Of course, l should be
delighted to meet you at any time.

''l would tentatively suggest the 25th.

''Yours sincerely,''
tsss! ''Alexander Worple.''

- How about that?
- Worked like a charm, eh, Jeeves?

Extremely gratifying, sir.

Here we are at The Worple Towers, ma'am.

Georgie Caffyn has asked me to
tag along with the tour of Ask Dad,

as a sort of unbiased observer,

so l thought l might go and
see a bit of this great country.

An excellent idea, sir.

l'll be able to keep an eye
on Bassington-Bassington.

l'm sure Mrs Gregson will
be most grateful, sir.

Yes. Probably show it in the usual
manner, a kick in the teeth for Bertram.

Still, there you are.

The train leaves from Grand
Central tomorrow morning.

Very good, sir. Good night, sir.

Good night, Jeeves.


Pardon me for mentioning it,
ladies, but the house is on fire.


(Bertie) ''We're off
on our travels, Jeeves.

''Tricky business, what they call hunting
in these parts. They do it without horses.

''l managed to wing a forest ranger.

''The show's a sellout everywhere.
My log cabin marked with an X.''

(Confidently) Pardon me for mentioning
it, ladies, but the house is on fire.

''Westward, ever westward, Jeeves.

''We're all having a whale
of a time, especially Cyril.

''My sleeping car marked with an X.''

''Show doing famously, Jeeves.

''The horses out here
are rather excitable.

''The local lads are
pretty excitable, too.

''l've had to buy new clothes,
but l'm sure you'll approve.

''My bunkhouse marked with an X.''

(Emphatically) Pardon me for mentioning
it, ladies, but the house is on fire.

''This card shows the Rockies, Jeeves.

''They're mountains, as you can
see. Dashed rocky they are, too.

''My rock marked with an X.''

''This is the life, Jeeves. Not a fish in
sight and boots filling with iced water.

''l did catch a couple of trout.

''One of them looked like Oofy Prosser.

''Don't suppose the
Oofys hail from Montana?

''My tepee marked with an X.''

''l've now seen Ask Dad six billion
and blasted two times, Jeeves.

''Or is it six billion
and blasted three?

''Still no blasted sign of
a blasted Broadway theatre.

''My seat in the blasted orchestra
stalls marked with a blasted X.''

(Floridly) lf you'll pardon me mentioning
it, ladies, the house is on fire.

''PS, l might leave the
show and totter home soon.''

? Ask Dad ?


Well, how have things
been in the big city?

Oh, we managed to get along pretty good.

You ain't by any chance been out West?

Yes, as a matter of fact, l
have. Where men are men, you know.

l've heard tell.

- You shoot any lndians?
- No, no.

Ah, Jeeves. What ho.

Good afternoon, sir.

lt really is extraordinary, Jeeves.

Almost like coming home.

So, what's been happening
while l've been away?

lt has been very quiet.

Well, what do you think?

l only hope the poor creature
died a peaceful death, sir.

What? Oh, the coat.
Rather snazzy, isn't it?

l was referring to the
moustache, the old soup strainer.

- Very striking, sir.
- Rather Ronald Colman.

Lord Kitchener sprang to
mind on first sighting, sir.

l shall do what l like
with my own upper lip.

lndeed, sir. Will you be
dining in this evening, sir?

No. No, l shall go out to dine, Jeeves,

and astound the natives
with my mustachios!

Well, well, well, well, what!

Why, Mr Wooster, how are you?

And how are you, Miss
Singer? Corky around?

l beg your pardon?

- You're waiting for Corky, aren't you?
- Oh, l didn't understand.

- No, l'm not waiting for him.
- Oh.

- You haven't had a row?
- l don't understand.

l thought you usually dined with
him before you went to the theatre.

Oh, no. (Laughs ) l've left the stage.

- Of course. You must be married now.
- Mm, yes.

Dashed good. l wish you
all sorts of happiness.

- Thank you very much. l'd like to...
- And the old devil himself.

Really put one over on the uncle,
eh? Thanks to Jeeves's masterpiece.

Alexander, this is a
friend of mine, Mr Wooster.

Mr Wooster, l'd like you to
meet my husband, Mr Worple.

- Husband? What rot!
- Alexander and l are married.

What uncle? Whose uncle?


Something about putting
one over on the uncle.

No, no, no, no. No.

l was just telling Miss Singer,

that is to say, Mrs Worple,

about an accident l had.

l fell over on my...carbuncle.

- Carbuncle?
- Yes.

- Really quite painful.
- Wait a minute. We've met before.

- No.
- Yeah.

You're that weird
English sacking fellow.

Something's happened
to your face, though.

Just the aftereffects. Must have
been my brother. Anyway, tickety-tonk!

(Banging) Nine dollars and forty cents!

Come and open this door now!

l know you're in there. You owe
me nine dollars and forty cents!

You ain't got a chance, Jack. Nine
dollars and forty cents that monzo owes me!


- Corky!
- Who's that?

lt's Bertie.


So you've deigned to come back, have
you? You're the cause of all this.

That'll be all for this morning, nurse.

- Same time tomorrow, Mr Corcoran?
- Yes, please.

So, painting babies now, eh, Corky?

That's not just any
baby. That's the baby.

The baby? What do you mean?

Muriel's baby, of course. All
thanks to your wonderful plan.

lf you want an instance of the irony
of fate, get acquainted with this.

Here's the first commission l ever had,

and the sitter is that human poached egg

that has butted into my life
and got my allowance cut.

But why?

The old skinflint says he can't
afford to support me and a new family.

- But why are you painting it?
- $50, Bertie.

lt's Uncle Alexander's idea. lt's supposed
to be a surprise for Muriel's birthday.

The nurse takes the kid out
and they beat it down here.

l can't refuse, or Uncle would
stop my allowance completely.

Poor old Corky! lt's like
some awful Greek tragedy.

- Did you know there was a baby?
- Of Mr and Mrs Worple, sir? Yes.

l saw it announced a few
weeks ago in the public prints.

l did not think you were
emotionally prepared for the news,

following your discovery
of their marriage, sir.

- Where will it all end, Jeeves?
- Who can say, sir?

- This is a new razor, isn't it?
- Yes, sir.

l took the liberty of
buying it yesterday.

What for? The other one was all right.

l did not think that it was performing
its task with the required efficacy, sir.

Jeeves, l am not going to
discuss my facial arrangements.

Very good, sir.

l read a most stimulating article
in the New York Times, sir.

The author asserts that moustaches are
a most notorious cause for divorces.

Jeeves, l don't care if it's a
cause of the staggers in racehorses.

l will not have you
editing my upper lip.

As you wish, sir.

Mr Bassington-Bassington
has returned, sir.

- Last night, while you were in bed.
- Cyril? Has the tour ended?

lt would seem so, sir.

Good Lord! l wonder if they've
found a Broadway theatre.

? Ask Dad, ask Dad

? That's all they ever say

? Ask Dad, ask Dad

? They take your breath away

? Never seems to flurry them... ?

- This is a great little show we got here.
- Glad you like it.

My boy doesn't like that sparkly stuff on
the beach set in act two. Get rid of that.

He says you need another reprise of that
song at the end of the ballroom scene.

- Good idea.
- My boy's ideas are all good.

- The complimentary list for tonight, sir.
- l hate giving away tickets.

Yes, fine, but add Arthur
Prysock to the list.

- Prysock, sir?
- Art critic on the Chronicle.

Him and some Englishwoman are trying
to get me to put money into a gallery.

As if l didn't have problems enough!

- Very good, sir.
- Goodbye, sir.

Who's his boy?

He's got a ten-year-old son he relies on
to tell him what Broadway is gonna like.

He says the mental
age is about the same.

? Ask Dad ?

? Ask Dad, that's all they ever say

? Ask Dad ?



Good morning, sir. l trust you had
a pleasant walk in the park, sir?

- Park? No, Jeeves, l've been...
- Ahem!

The park, sir!

Mrs Gregson is here to see you, sir.

Aunt Agatha?

What? Here, in New York?

Bertie? ls that you?

Aunt Agatha.

Have you been eating soup, Bertie?

- Soup?
- lt seems to have left a stain on your lip.

- Oh, no, that's know...
- This is Mr Prysock.

Mr Prysock, this is the nephew
l told you about, Bertie Wooster.


Mr Prysock is art critic for
the New York Chronicle, Bertie.

- For my sins.
- l had business to transact with him,

so l thought l would look in on
Cyril to see how he is getting on.

l promised his dear mother that l would
make sure he was perfectly all right.

- Yes, well, he's...
- Don't interrupt, Bertie! Where is Cyril?

He's out at...

That's to say, he's...he's
out, Aunt Agatha.

At the library, Mrs Gregson.

At the library? Well, that
sounds like an improvement.

As long as you have kept him
well away from theatrical circles.

- Theatrical circles?
- As l instructed you in my letter.


Will you kindly stop parroting
my every word, Bertie?


The letter of introduction which
l gave to Cyril to give to you.

He did give it to you, l presume?

Oh, that letter. Yes, yes,
of course. A wonderful letter.

l don't know what was so wonderful. l
merely warned you of Cyril's proclivities.

Come, Mr Prysock. l am staying
at the Waldorf Hotel, Bertie.

Kindly ask Cyril to contact
me there this evening.

Don't forget we're going to
see Blumenfield's show tonight.

Oh, no, indeed, Mr Prysock. Cyril
should contact me this afternoon.

Oh, Jeeves!

You didn't give me any letter.

Didn't l? lt only would
have depressed you.

- Cyril, you have got to leave the show.
- Leave the show?

On the opening night of
the threshold of my career?

What about the threshold of
my life? Aunt Agatha is coming.

She'll see how talented
l am and change her tune.

Bertie, l haven't got time for all this.
l've got a dress rehearsal in ten minutes.

l've got to relax, l've
got to get into character,

explore the core of the part.

- You've only got one line.
- lt's a crucial one, Bertie.

l'm not one of those actors
who count their lines.

- Are you going to leave the show?
- Never!

- Think, Jeeves. Think!
- l am thinking, sir.

Are you thinking, Jeeves?
l can never tell, you know.

l received a telephone
call from Mr Corcoran, sir.

You're meant to be thinking about
the Bassington-Bassington pill.

With respect, l am capable of retaining
more than one thought at the same time.

Mr Corcoran has finished the painting.

- Mr Worple is to view it this afternoon.
- That's good, isn't it?

Possibly, sir. Mr Corcoran is keen we
should be present for Mr Worple's visit.

(Knocking on door)

Bertie. Come in, come in.

Now, stop right there.

Tell me honestly, how
does it strike you?

Yes, well, l only saw
the kid for a moment.

l've painted the soul of the subject.
lt's a talent we artists have.

A child wouldn't have had
time to get a soul like that.

l should think it most unlikely, sir.

(Knocking at door)

Well, here goes.

Well, well, well, the
big day dawns, eh, my boy?

ls it really ready? ls it...?


ls this a practical joke?

l think you want to stand
further back from it.

l do, l do.

So far back l can't see the
thing through a telescope.

Hmm. Try sort of half closing your eyes.

This... This is what you wasted your
time and my money for, all these years?

A painter? l wouldn't
let you paint a house!

l gave you the commission,
thinking you might be competent.

And this extract from a
drunkard's nightmare is the result.

This is the end. Not another cent!

Not another cent!

Not another cent!

l've said it before, and l'll say it
again. Some people do not understand art.

Better death than the
jute business, Bertie.

No, no, no, no, no, Corkie.
No. Look at it another way.

- What other way?
- Well...

Yes. Still, decent of Jeeves
to give you $10 for it.

- What do you mean, decent?
- Well, discerning, perspicacious.

- Old Jeeves knows a thing or two.
- Old Jeeves got me into this mess.

True, true.

- Another doughnut, Master Sidney?
- Sure, l'll have two.

Please, have as many as you like.

Disaster, Jeeves.

Oh, sorry to interrupt.

We were just having tea.
Would you care for some?, that's fine,
Jeeves. You carry on.

- What's your name?
- Name?

Wooster, don't you know, and what not.

My Pop's richer than you.


l trust l'm not taking a liberty
in entertaining them, sir?

lf that's your idea of a large afternoon,
go ahead. Who is your little friend?

l happened to bump into the young
gentleman with his father's valet, sir,

whom l used to know
quite well in London.

My God, l'm exhausted!

The dress rehearsal was
an absolute disaster.

Tea, Jeeves, if you'd be so kind.

Very good, Mr Bassington-Bassington.

- Have you been to see Aunt Agatha yet?
- My dear Bertie, l hadn't a moment.

We open in two hours. l don't
know how much more l can take.

One gives so much.

- Your tea, sir.
- Thank you, Jeeves. Thank you.

- Fishface!
- l'm sorry?

- You got a face like a fish.
- Well, l'm dashed.

A haddock. l wouldn't have a face like
that if you gave me a million dollars.

Come here!

Help! Help!

He told me to! Get out of it!

Ow! Ow!


Extraordinary child. Who was he?

Never met him before today.

Mrs Gregson and Mr Prysock are
ascending in the elevator, sir.

What? l've got to get out of here.

lf l can suggest the fire escape, sir?

Jeeves, you're up to
something. l know that look.


What ho, Aunt Agatha, Mr Prysock.

ls it possible for you to find a more
civilised form of greeting, Bertie?

Should l make some more tea, sir?

- Oh, yes, Jeeves, make some more tea.
- Very good, Mrs Gregson.

Cyril did not come to see me.

(Bertie) Oh, really? Well, l...

- l expect he got tied up at the library.
- He's here now?

Well, actually, no.

No? Oh, this is really
most unsatisfactory.

l think he went...

Ah, Jeeves, where is Mr
Bassington-Bassington today?

At the museum, sir.

At the museum, that's
right. Then he was go...

- Jeeves, what are you doing?
- l am hanging this picture, sir.

- We're not going to have that in here.
- lt is a Corcoran, sir.

My nephew knows nothing about art.

l know an awful painting when l see one.

Oh, let me see.

Oh, yes!

- Oh, yes!
- Yes, yes, yes!

- And it is a genuine...?
- Corcoran? Yes, madam.

Of course. The tone, the
line is unmistakeable.

- Typical of his early work.
- Still Life With Eggplant is the title.

Hmm, so clever, so clever.

At first glance, there's
almost the hint of a human face.

We must have this work for the gallery.
What did you pay for it, Bertie?

l didn't. l wouldn't give you
tuppence for the beastly thing.

- Poor Bertie!
- Then who bought it?

- l did, sir. l gave ten for it.
- Ten?

- l'll give you fifteen for it, here and now.
- l would be loathe to part with it...

- 17, and that's my final offer.
- ..for less than 18.

We must have it, Mr Prysock.

This is just the sort of work that will
persuade Mr Blumenfield of our intent.

18,000, then.

and exclusive access to any other
Corcoran you can lay your hands on.

Done, sir.

That's fine. Good. Yeah,
that's fine. That's fine. Good.

No, don't wear that tie. Can't we
get him a less ostentatious tie?

Fine. Fine. Oh, those frills
are looking a bit tired, Nesta.

That's fine.

- What's that awful child doing here?
- That's Blumenfield's son.

- That's the one you biffed.
- Hey, you! Turn around.

- He did what?
- Biffed. As in biffed.

Pa! That's the one! That one's no good.

- Which one, darling?
- The one with a face like a fish.

- Oh, that one.
- Yep, he's rotten.

l thought so, too.

- What the devil do you mean?
- Don't yell at me.

l've a good mind to bat the
brute round the ear again.

What? Now, l don't
know your name, but...

My name is Cyril Bassington-Bassington.

The Bassington-Bassingtons
are not acc...

l don't give a three-dollar cuss

what the Bassington-Bassingtons
are accustomed to.

You gotta work good to work for my pa.

l'll stuff that hat down
your neck in a minute.

Do you know who you're
talking to? This boy is my son.

Well, you both have my deepest sympathy.

That does it!

Here's the deal. lf that
man's in it, the show's off.

- You can't do that.
- Watch me!

l didn't want the dratted part
then, and l don't want it now.

At the end of the number, you just
step out onto the stage, and say,

''You'll pardon me
for mentioning it...''

l know. l've seen the blasted
thing a thousand times.

My aunt is waiting to pounce. She thinks
acting is the next thing to devil worship.

- l won't forget this, Bertie.
- Nor me.

? Ask Dad ?

? What a wonderful world,
what a wonderful feeling

? When your heart is reeling
and you're just in love

? What a wonderful day,
full of sunshine and clover

? lt's the same the world
over when you're just in love

? There's nothing you can do about it

? lt will make you sing

? You'll find that you
can't live without it

? lt's everything

? What a wonderful time
to be giving your kisses

? You'll be Mr and Mrs
when you're just in love

? What a wonderful smile, do
you hear the bells ring, dear?

? lt's the promise of spring,
dear, you're just in love

? What a wonderful mood, you
couldn't buy it with money

? Bet you'll say it with
honey when you're just in

? You're just, you're just in love

? You're just in love ?

This is it.

Now, Bertie.

(Whispers) Now!




Don't l...?

(Whispering) lf you'll pardon
me for mentioning it, ladies,

but the house is on fire.

lf you'll pardon me for mentioning
it, ladies, but the house is on fire.




Make way there! Excuse me.

Cyril! What are you doing here?

l might have known.
Bertie has led you astray.

Now get back there.

Come on! Bring that hose here!

Ruined! We're ruined.

Who finds these idiots,
for God's sake, George?

Well, l like your bally
nerve. l was trying to help.

Bertie! Bertie!

- Bertie!
- Aunt Agatha.

What do you think you
are doing? How dare you?

l hold you fully responsible, Bertie.
l warned you that this might happen.

- l...
- Don't answer back.

You will return to London,

and you will apologise to
Lady Bassington-Bassington.

- Oh...
- Silence!

Last time we shall get the
New York Sunday papers, sir.

Ah, thank you, Jeeves.

Mr Caffyn's new show has been
retitled Where's The Fire?

and has excellent
advance reservations, sir.

Good Lord!

The fiasco which attended the opening

afforded publicity such
as could not be bought.

l suppose you're right, Jeeves.

There is also an excellent review
of Mr Corcoran's exhibition, sir.

lf l'd been in your place,
l'd have kept Prysock's cheque.

Mr Corcoran was generous
enough to pay me a percentage,

for acting as his agent in the matter.

You really are a marvel, Jeeves.

That and nobbling young
Sidney Blumenfield.

l endeavour to give satisfaction, sir.

ln spite of the fact

that we're being dragged
back to dear old Blighty

by an enraged aunt, l
shan't be sorry to go.

No, indeed, sir. lt will
be a pleasure to be home.

Now, Jeeves, about this moustache.

- Yes, sir?
- You don't like it, do you?

lt is not my place to offer
an opinion on the object.

l'm not that keen on it, either. l only
kept the bally thing to show who's master.

Oh, l trust there was never
any doubt about that, sir.

Quite. Yes, well, go and get
the razor, will you, Jeeves?

Thank you, sir.

(Man) Oh, yes, Corcoran
is a major artist.

(Appreciative muttering)

- Congratulations.
- Well done.

Absolutely superb!

- Corky, it's a triumph.
- A triumph!