Monty Python's Flying Circus (1969–1974): Season 2, Episode 3 - Déjà Vu - full transcript

Sketches include: Flying Lessons, Hijacked Plane, Psychiatrist Milkman, Complaints, Déjà vu.

my, isn't it hot in here!

and now for something
completely different.

and now for something
more completely different.

it's...

monty python's flying circus.

[captioning sponsored by the
u.s. department of education

and a&e television networks]

"oh, mr. belpit, your legs
are so swol... swollen."

"oh, mr. belpit?"

"oh, mr. belpit, your legs
are so swollen."

"oh, mr. belpit..."



excuse me,
excuse me.

i saw your
advertisement

for flying lessons

and i'd like to
make an application.

nothing to do with me.

i'm not in this show.

oh, i see.

"oh, mr. belpit..."

do you... do you...

do you know
about them--

the flying lessons?

no, nothing
to do with me.

i'm not in this show.

this is show five.



i'm not in
until show eight.

oh, i see.

i'm just learning
my lines, you know.

"oh, mr....

oh, mr. belpit,
your legs..."

a bit awkward, eh?

yes.

i'm a bit stuck.

well, try over there.

"oh, mr. belpit..."
oh, yes, thanks.

not at all.
thanks a lot.

"oh, mr. belpit,
they're so swol...
swollen."

"oh! m... mr. belpit,
your legs..."

excuse me, i saw
your advertisement

for flying lessons

and i'd like to make
an application.

appointment?

yes, yes.

certainly.

would you come
this way, please?

morning,
mr. jones,
mr. barnes.

morning.

morning, mrs. wills.

morning, love.

take this to
marketing, would you?

just follow me.

oh, be careful.

yes, nearly tripped.

we'll be there soon.

good. it's a long way, isn't it?

oh, get hold of that.

watch it.

morning.

morning.

up the stairs.

yes.

be careful, very steep.

almost there.

morning.

morning.

will you come
this way, please?

in here, please.

thank you.

hello, i saw your
advertisement

for flying lessons

and i'd like to make
an appointment.

well, mr. anemone's
on the phone at the moment

but i'm sure he won't
mind if you go on in.

through here.

ah, won't be a moment.

make yourself at home.

no, no, well, look,
you can ask mr. maudling

but i'm sure
he'll never agree.

not for 50 shillings, no.

no. bye-bye, gordon.

bye-bye.

oh, dear.

bye-bye.

missed.
now, mr. uh...

chigger.

mr. chigger, so you
want to learn to fly.

yes.

right, well, up on the table

arms out, fingers together,
knees bent!

no, no, no.

up on the table!

arms out, fingers
together, knees bent.

now, head well forward.

now, flap your arms.

go on, flap faster.

faster, faster, faster,
faster, faster, faster.

now jump!

rotten, rotten.

you're no
bloody use at all.

you're an utter
bloody wash-out.

you make me sick,
you weed!

now, look here!

all right, all right.

i'll give you
one more chance.

get on the table.

look, i came here to learn

how to fly an aeroplane.

a what?

i came here to learn

how to fly an aeroplane.

oh, an aeroplane.

oh, i say,
we are grand, aren't we?

oh, oh, no more buttered scones
for me, mater.

i'm off to play the grand piano.

pardon me
while i fly my aeroplane.

now, get on the table!

look, no one
in the history
of the world

has ever been able
to fly like that.

oh, i suppose
mater told you that

while you were
out riding.

well, if people can't fly

what am i doing up here?

you're on a wire.

oh, a wire?

i'm on a wire, am i?

of course you're
on a bloody wire.

i am not on a wire;
i am flying.

you're on a wire.

i am flying!

you're on a wire!

i'll show you whether
i'm on a wire or not.

give me the "oop."

what?

oh, i don't suppose

we know what an oop is.

i suppose pater thought
they were a bit common

except on the bleeding
croquet lawn.

oh, a "hoop."

"oh! an hoop."

thank you, your
bleeding highness.

now... look.

go on!

right the way along.

all right,
all right,
all right.

there, now, where's
the bleeding wire?

that hoop's got a hole in.

oh, eton and magdalene,
the hoop has an hole in.

of course it's got a hole in!

it wouldn't be a hoop otherwise,
would it, mush?

no, there's a gap
in the middle, there.

oh, a gap, a gap in one's hoop.

pardon me, but i'm off
to play the grand piano.

look, i can see
you're on a wire.

look, there it is.

look, i told you,
you bastard--

i'm not on a wire.

you are. there is.

there isn't.

is.

isn't!
is!

isn't!
is!

isn't!
is!
isn't!
is!

anyway, this rather
pointless bickering

went on for some time until...

gosh, i am glad

i'm a fully qualified
airline pilot.

the british airline
pilots association

would like to point out
that it takes a chap six years

to become a fully qualified
airline pilot, and not two.

thank you.

i didn't want to seem

a bit of an old fusspot
just now, you know

but it's just as easy
to get these things right

as they are easily found
in the balpa handbook.

oh, one other thing--
in the sherlock holmes last week

tommy cooper told a joke
about a charter flight

omitting to point out
that one must be a member

of any organization
that charters a plane

for at least six
months beforehand

before being able
to take advantage of it.

did rather spoil the joke
for me, i'm afraid.

yes, ah, yes, yes.

my wife has just reminded me
that on a recent high chaparral

kathy kirby was singing glibly
about "fly me to the stars"

when, of course, there are no
scheduled flights of this kind

or even chartered,
available to the general public

at the present moment.

although, of course,
when they are

balpa will be in the vanguard...

or the trident.

little joke for the chaps
up at balpa house.

uh, one other small point.

why is it that
these new lurex dancing tights

go baggy at the knees after
only a couple of evenings' fun?

bring back
the old canvas ones, i say.

it is incredible, isn't it

that in these days
when man can walk on the moon

and work out
the most complicated

hire purchase agreements

i still get
these terrible headaches.

all right, i seem
to have wandered a bit

but still, no harm done.

jolly good luck.

are you going
to be in there all day?

other people want
to go, you know!

the door's jammed,
if you ask me.

ah! that's better.

oh, my god.

ah, i'm terribly sorry.

i thought this
was the bally toilet.

this is
the control cabin.

oh, i know that.

i'm a flying man,
you know, yes.

bally stupid mistake.

cloud's heavy.

what's the reading?

uh, 4.8-- steady.

if they had all these
dials in the toilet

there wouldn't be room

for anything else,
would there?

hello, geneva, this
is roger five-o.

what is your
cloud reading?
hello, geneva.

i wouldn't fancy
flying one of these

sitting on the toilet.

i mean, it'd
take the glamour

out of being a pilot,
wouldn't it?

flying around the world
sitting on a toilet.

geneva here.

4.9-- heavy. over.

serious?

no, not if it keeps
at that level, no.

mind, mind you

if you did fly it
from the toilet

it'd leave
a lot more space up here

wouldn't it?

well, i'd better get
back to the cabin, then.

uh, sorry about
the silly intrusion.

bally stupid.

the door's jammed.

bally piece of luck.

oh, hello.

everything
all right
at the back?

yes, they're
quiet as dormice.

dormice?

all right,
don't anybody move.

uh... except to control
the airplane--

you can move a little
to do that.

can i move?

uh, yes, yes, yes.

you can move
a little bit, yes.

sorry, i didn't
mean to be

quite so dogmatic
when i came in.

obviously, you can all
move a little, within reason.

there are certain
involuntary muscular movements

that no amount
of self-control can prevent.

and obviously, any assertion
of authority on my part--

i've got to take
that into account.

right, i mean,
one couldn't,
for example

stop one's insides
from moving.

no, no-- good point,
good point.

and the very fact
that the plane

is continuously vibrating

means we're all moving
to a certain extent.

and we're all
moving our lips

aren't we?

yes, yes.
yes, yes

absolutely.

no, the gist
of my meaning was

that sudden, uh...

exaggerated
movements!

exaggerated, violent
movements are... are out.

well, that's
the great thing

about these
modern airliners.

i mean, i can keep
this plane flying

with only
the smallest movement

and pancho here
doesn't have
to move at all.

oh, that's marvelous.

ooh, and i don't
really need
to move either

unless i get an
itch or something.

well, that's wonderful.

60% success, eh?

60%, yeah.

oh, dear.

anyway, bearing
all that in mind

will you fly this plane
to luton, please?

well, this is

a scheduled
flight to cuba.

i know, i know.

that's rather
why i came in here

with that point
about nobody moving.

oh, i see.
within reason.

within reason.

within reason,
right.

yes, um, you know...

i want you

to fly this plane
to luton!

please.

right, well,
i'd better turn

the plane
round then.

uh, stand by--
emergency systems.

look, i don't want
to cause any trouble.

no, no, we'll manage,
we'll manage.

i mean, near luton
will do, you know.

harpenden, do you go
near harpenden?

it's on
the flight path.

okay, well,
drop me off there.

i'll get a bus
to luton.

it's only 25 minutes.

you can
be in luton
by lunchtime.

well,
that's smashing.

there's no airport
at harpenden.

oh, well, look,
forget it, forget it.

i'll come to cuba

and get a flight back
to luton from there.

well, we
could lend you
a parachute.

no, no, no, no, no,
i wouldn't dream of it.

i wouldn't dream of it--

dirtying a nice,
clean parachute.

i know, i know.

there's
a bale of hay

outside basingstoke.

we could
throw you out.

well, if it's all right.

sure, yeah.
yeah!

not any trouble?

no, none at all.

that's marvelous.

thank you
very much.

sorry to come
barging in.

bye-bye.

thank you.

bye.

thank... you...!

take this bus to cuba.

from these glens and scars

the sound of the coot and
the moorhen is seldom absent.

nature sits in stern mastery
over these rocks and crags.

the rush of the mountain stream,
the bleat of the sheep

and the broad, clear highland
skies reflected in tarn and loch

form the breathtaking backdrop

against which ewan mcteagle
writes such poems

as "lend us a quid
till the end of the week."

but it was with more simple,
homespun verses

that mcteagle's unique style
first flowered.

"if you could see your way
to lending me sixpence

"i could at least
buy a newspaper.

that's not much to ask anyone."

one woman who remembers mcteagle
as a young friend--

lassie o'shea.

oh... mr. mcteagle
wrote me two poems

between the months
of january and april, 1969.

could you
read us one?

och, i dinna
like to, though.

they were kind of personal...

but i will.

"to my own beloved lassie.

"a poem on her 17th birthday.

"lend us a couple of bob
till thursday.

"i'm absolutely skint.

"but i'm expecting
a postal order

"and i can pay you back
as soon as it comes.

love, ewan."

beautiful.

since then, mcteagle
has developed and widened

his literary scope.

three years ago he concerned
himself with quite small sums

quick bits of ready cash--
sixpences, shillings.

but more recently

he has turned his extraordinary
literary perception

to much larger sums--
15 shillings, funt4.12.6d...

even nine guineas.

but there is still nothing
to match the huge sweep

the majestic power of what is
surely his greatest work:

"can i have funt50
to mend the shed?"

can i have funt50 to mend the shed?

i'm right on my uppers.

i can pay you back

when this postal order comes
from australia.

honestly.

hope the bladder trouble's
getting better.

love... ewan.

there seems to be no end to
mcteagle's poetic invention.

"my new checkbook
hasn't arrived" was followed up

by the brilliantly allegorical

"what's 20 quid
to the bloody midland bank?"

and more recently
his prizewinning poem

to the arts council:
"can you lend me 1,000 quid?"

i think what mcteagle's
pottery... poetry is doing

is rejecting all the traditional
cliches of modern pottery.

no longer do we have
to be content

with keats's "seasons of mists
and mellow fruitfulness"

wordsworth's "i wandered
lonely as a cloud"

and milton's "can you lend us
two bob till tuesday?"

"oh, gie to me a shillin'
for some fags

"and i'll pay yer back
on thursday

"but if you can wait
till saturday

i'm expecting a divvy from
the harpenden building society."

oh, sod 'em.

...working my fingers
to the bone...

as a highlander,
i would like to complain

about some inaccuracies
in the preceding film

about the poet ewan mcteagle.

although his name was quite
clearly given as mcteagle

he was throughout wearing
the cameron tartan.

also i would like to point out
that the balpa spokesman

who complained about
aeronautical inaccuracies

was himself wearing
a captain's hat

whereas he only
had lieutenant's stripes

on the sleeves of his jacket.

also, in the inverness
pantomime last christmas

the part of puss in boots was
played by a native of new guinea

with a plate in her lip...

so that every time

dick whittington
gave her a french kiss

he got the back
of his throat scraped.

look, would you mind going away?

i'm trying to examine this man.

it's, uh... it's all right.

i... i am a doctor.

actually, i'm a gynecologist,
but this is my lunch hour.

i have a nasty feeling
i am somebody's lunch hour.

actually, i find violence
extremely distasteful...

only it was the only part
offered, and i need the work.

pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake,
baker's man.

good morning, madam,
i'm a psychiatrist.

you look like
a milkman to me.

good. i am in fact
dressed as a milkman.

you spotted that--
well done.

go away.

i'm going to show
you three numbers

and i want you
to tell me

if you see any similarity
between them.

they're all number three.

no. try again.

they're all number three?

no. they're all number three.

right, now, i'm
going to say a word

and i want you to say

the first thing
that comes into your head.

how many pints
do you want?

uh... three?

yogurt?
no.

cream?
no.

eggs?
no.

you're quite
clearly suffering

from a repressive
libido complex

probably the result
of a product

of an unhappy childhood

coupled with acute
insecurity in adolescence

which has resulted

in an attenuation
of the libido complex.

you are a bloody milkman!

don't you shout at me, madam.

don't come that tone.

now then, i must ask you

to accompany me down
to the dairy

and do some aptitude tests.

i've got better things to do
than come down to the dairy.

mrs. ratbag, if you
don't mind me saying so

you are badly in need

of an expensive course
of psychiatric treatment.

now, i'm not going to say

a trip to our dairy
will cure you

but it will give hundreds
of lower-paid workers

a good laugh.

all right, but how
am i going to get home?

i'll run you
there and back

on my psychiatrist's
float.

all right.

what are all those?

they're case histories.

psychiatrists!

psychiatrists! psychiatrists!

yes, sir?

good morning.

afraid our regular
psychiatrist

hasn't come round
this morning

and i've got
an ego block

which is in turn making
my wife over-assertive

and getting us both
into a state of
depressive neurosis.

i see, sir,
who's your regular?

jersey cream psychiatrists.

oh, yes, i know them.

right, well, uh...
what's your job, then?

i'm a doctor.

didn't i see you just now
under a scotsman?

yes, but i am a doctor.

actually, i'm a gynecologist
but that was my lunch hour.

what does this
remind you of?

two pints of cream?

right. i should
definitely say

you're suffering

from severe
personality
disorder, sir

sublimating itself
in a lactic obsession

which could get worse

depending on how
much money you've got.

yes, yes, i see.

and a pot
of yogurt, please.

i would like to take
this opportunity

of complaining about the way
in which these shows

are continually portraying
psychiatrists

who make pat diagnoses
of patients' problems

without first obtaining
their full medical history.

mind you, that's just
a pat diagnosis

made without first obtaining
your full medical history.

i feel the time has come
to complain about people

who make rash complaints

without first making sure that
those complaints are justified.

are you referring to me?

not necessarily.

however, i would like
to point out

that the balpa spokesman
was wearing

the british
psychiatric association
dinner dance club cuff links.

yes, i noticed that, too.

these are not british
psychiatric association
dinner dance club cuff links.

sorry.

they are, in fact

british sugar corporation

gilbert and sullivan
society cuff links.

it is in fact a sort of in-joke
with us lads here at balpa.

i think the last speaker
should have checked his facts

before making
his own rash complaint.

yeah, that'll teach him.

however, i would just like
to add a complaint

about shows which have
too many complaints in them

as they get very tedious
for the average viewer.

i'd like to complain

about people who hold things up

by complaining
about people complaining.

it's about time
something was done about it.

nurse! would you
take mrs. pim

to see dr. cream,
please?

certainly, doctor.

walk this way, please.

oh, if i could
walk that way, i...

mrs. pim to see you,
dr. cream.

i just want another
five minutes with audrey.

could you show mrs. pim

into the waiting
room, please?

yes, doctor.

right, audrey, when did
you first start thinking

you were a cow?

"jeez, mr. belpit

your legs is all swollen."

"oi! mr. belpit...

your great legs
is all swollen!"

"ah! mr. belpit

your legs are all swollen!"

good evening.

tonight on it's the mind

we examine
the phenomenon of deja vu--

that strange feeling
we sometimes get

that we've lived
through something before

that what is happening now
has already happened.

tonight on it's the mind

we examine
the phenomenon of deja vu

that strange feeling
we sometimes get

that we've lived...

anyway, tonight on it's the mind

we examine
the phenomenon of deja vu

that strange...

good evening.

tonight on it's the mind

we examine
the phenomenon of deja vu

that strange feeling
we sometim...

...mes get...

that...

we've lived through something...

good... good evening.

tonight on it's the mind

we examine the phenomenon
of d-d-d-d-d-deja v-v-v-vu

that extraordinary feeling...

quite extraordinary...

no, fine, thanks, fine.

oh, thank you.

that strange feeling
we sometimes get

that we've lived
through something before.

no, fine, thank you. fine.

thank you.

that strange feeling...

no. fine, thank you. fine.

thank you.

look, something's
happening to me.

i... um... i think
i'd better go and see someone.

goodnight.

wait! hey!

oi, haven't i seen you
somewhere before?

no, doctor, no.

something very funny's
happening to me.

hey!

oi, haven't i seen you
somewhere before?

no, doctor, no.

something very funny's
happening to me.

"oh, mr. belpit,
your legs are so swollen."

ah, come in.

now, what seems
to be the matter?

i have this terrible
feeling of deja vu.

ah, come in.

now, what seems
to be the matter?

i have this terrible
feeling of deja vu.

[captioning sponsored by the
u.s. department of education

and a&e television networks

captioned by
the caption center
wgbh educational foundation]

ah, come in.

now, what seems
to be the matter?

i have this terrible
feeling of deja vu.