The Ray Bradbury Theater (1985–1992): Season 6, Episode 4 - The Anthem Sprinters - full transcript
An American author on a visit to Dublin stops by a pub where he is caught up in the excitement over a local sporting event known as "anthem sprinting." In this challenge runners compete to see who can get out of the theater fastest during the pause between the end of the film and the start of the Irish national anthem and this time the stakes are the American's first edition of Joyce versus the pub's Sean O'Casey autographed playbill.
[music playing]
RAY (VOICEOVER): People ask,
where do you get your ideas?
Right here.
All of this is my
magician's toy shop.
I'm Ray Bradbury and this is--
[music playing]
[bell dings]
DOUGLAS (VOICEOVER): Douglas
is the name, and writer I am.
For me, a secondhand bookshop
is bliss at any time.
But when it beckons from
the banks of the Liffey
in the midst of
Dublin's fair city,
then it is paradise itself.
And this paradise contained
treasure, a first edition
from 1916 of that wonderful
autobiography of youth,
which reading in
my teens had made
me certain I would be a writer.
(cash register)
Thank you.
DOUGLAS (VOICEOVER):
An enchanted shop,
but with my prize
from the past, I
stepped straight
into a happening
and the beginning of a story.
- Whoa!
Lord have mercy on us.
I'm terribly sorry.
Neither damage done
nor revenge taken.
Wait, you're Mr. Douglas
the great American writer.
Well, not so great.
And you're mister--
Doone.
Well, you being a writer,
I expect you're waiting
for something to happen here?
Yes, but what does go on?
What do I look for?
Oh, something awful,
something terrible,
and something beautiful.
Ah hell, come with me.
Come on.
Well, come on, come on.
Do you see that?
A movie theater, yes.
Right then, come
on, over here.
And do you see this?
Heeber Finn's pub.
None other.
Would you notice similarities?
Similarities?
There's the theater,
and there's the theater.
Both are theaters?
[music playing]
DOONE: Boys.
It's me.
ALL: Doone!
Does everyone know you?
If they don't they're dead.
Hannah and Keely,
Ray, O'Neal, Duffy,
and Kelly, and the owner and
the pub himself, Heeber Finn.
Meet Mr. Raymond Douglas,
the world's greatest writer.
Outside of Sean O'Casey.
Come, you're a
man of discernment.
Would you look here
at what's above me?
DOUGLAS: A theater program.
Indeed it is, for the riotous
opening night of Mr. O'Casey's
plow and the stars, 1926.
Signed by the man
himself and the company.
Well, that is something.
But then, so is this.
Oh, that is a prize.
Oh, where did you find it?
A little shop, this
side of the river,
just left to the
O'Connell bridge.
Clancey's.
He's the man for books.
Looks like a
wild night in here.
Was that said, sir
in scorn or admiration?
Well I-- I'm not really sure.
But there's a confusion
in your mind, then?
Yes, that's it.
Ah, he's confused, boys.
Confused, yeah, you
can say that again.
Look out.
Lads.
I'll have a ten.
[cheering]
So you're new to Dublin,
Ireland, and Heeber Finn's pub.
All three of those, yes.
Well, that's why I
have brought him around
for a special
orientation program.
Shall we orientate him, boys?
Timulty's my name.
And do you think, do you, there
are no wild nights in Ireland?
Oh, I didn't say that.
You think it.
It shows in your eyes.
And now what would
you say if I was
to tell you that you're at
the very eye of the hurricane.
You were in the
damned earthquake,
half buried up to your
neck and you don't know it.
Leave off, Timulty.
Now I brought him here,
and it's up to me to pray.
Now you see, you're here
in Finn's pub, which
is the central
betting agency for one
of the greatest sporting
events of local consequence.
Sporting event?
Come along, boys, explain it
to Mr. Douglas from the states.
Mr. Douglas is in uh--
Pictures.
I write screenplays
for the movies.
Well, for the pictures.
Oh, it's too much.
Are you staggered, Timulty?
- I am.
- Beyond belief.
What is?
Well, your occupation and
our sporting event, they're
all in the same bed.
HEEBER: Twins.
Are you much for the sports?
Do you know such things
as the cross-country,
the 440, and other such
man on foot excursions?
Well, I've been to
two Olympic games.
Well now, is it not time
you heard of the special
all-Irish decathlon
event that has to do
with the picture theaters?
I've already shown
him the stadium.
Shall we explain the rest?
DOUGLAS: Stadium?
You showed me the cinema.
TIMULTY: Doone, say who you are.
Doone, the greatest
anthem sprinter
in the whole of Ireland.
The greatest what sprinter?
A-N-T-H-E-M anthem sprinter.
The fastest.
Since you've been in Dublin,
have you been to the pictures?
Huh, 14 times.
Ah, you're a fanatic,
then, as are we
all, through need in
this godforsaken town.
And as the film came
to an end each night,
did you notice anything
tending towards the peculiar?
Hold on.
You can't mean the playing
of the Irish national anthem.
Can we boys?
ALL: We can.
Each night, every night for
tens of dreadful years, the end
of each damn film all over
Ireland, in every cinema,
as if we'd never heard
the baleful tune before,
the orchestra strikes
up for Ireland.
Wait, what happens then?
Why, if you're any
man at all, you try
and get out of the theater
in those few precious moments
between the end of the film
and the start of the anthem.
Oh, he's nailed it.
No disrespect meant.
And none taken.
And so, as you've
noted, in that interval,
any audience in its right
mind beats it the hell out.
And the best of the crowd is--
Doone, your anthem sprinter.
TIMULTY: Smile at the man, boys.
MAN: Place your bets.
The book's open, lads.
MAN: A pound on O'Gavin.
HEEBER: What do you say
to a bet on our event?
Oh, sure, I'll make a bet.
Quiet lads, give us a moment.
When you lay your
bets, lads, Mr. Douglas
will be joining you.
And because he's a sportsman,
we'll make it a bet worthwhile.
You can bet on
whoever you favor,
and I'll back the other man.
Okay, what are the stakes?
DOONE: Right, what
are the stakes?
Mr. Douglas has a
valuable book, lads.
One that we could do with
showing off in the pub.
Portrait of the
artist, 1916 edition.
And I'll wager our
Plough Into Stars program
against your James Joyce.
What do you say, Mr. Douglas?
I say you're on, sir.
Doone, Doone, there you are.
Does an event loom?
It does.
Michael, would you
be so good as to show
our American friend here the
place of the grand sport.
My pleasure.
[movie playing]
MICHAEL: Now at this moment,
not 100 feet away, down
the slight declivity
towards the silver screen,
seated in the second
row, center, is O'Gavin.
The other anthem sprinter.
Your man's eerie.
That film wasn't "It
Happened One Night".
Oh, that was last month.
They've not got round to
taking down the names.
This film tonight
is a Deanna Derbin,
brought back by the asking.
What the time is now?
8:30.
In one hour, the
cinema will be letting
the customers out in a hurry.
And if we was to let
Doone, here, in for a test
of speed and agility--
Ah, it's straight
to the buff I am.
Oh, Gavin will be ready
to take the challenge.
Well, Gavin didn't come to the
show just for an anthem sprint,
did he?
- Good grief, no.
He came for the Deanna
Derbin songs and all.
Him playing the banjo and
knowing music like he does.
But if he should
casually note my entrance,
me being conspicuous
by me late arrival,
oh, Gavin'll know what's up.
Ay, they will
salute each other
and then sit until the
end hoves in sight.
Oh, let me at him.
Can your heart stand
to see the bloodcurdling
anthem sprinters in full
cry in dreadful competition?
It can.
I mean, will.
- Back to Heeber's, boys.
Come on!
That should do you.
Do you have teams
of anthem sprinters?
Oh, teams.
There's the Galway runners,
the Connemara treadwell's,
the Donegal lightfoots--
And the fastest
team of all is made up
of Irishmen living in London.
The Queens own invaders.
We're fast, don't you see, to
flee from God save the Queen.
Five minutes, lads,
to the grand ta-da.
Come on, drink up, boys.
Off to the movies.
I see the details of our
sport have you bewildered.
Well, let me nail down
the rules for you.
Fogarty,
Here.
Door listener supreme.
Nolan and Kelly.
Here.
Aisle judges superintend.
Got myself as the timekeeper.
Then there's Clancy,
Peevy, O'Neill
and Riley, general spectators.
Dillon here has the book.
Timulty you know,
general theater assessor.
And Doone, of course, the man.
O'Gavin is there in the depths.
So much for the participants.
And now for the
stadium for our sport.
Four minutes.
Exits well placed.
Hinges well oiled.
It's the crowds, you see.
There's a proper mixture of
sporting blood and folks who
mind enough to leap aside
should a sprinter squandering
his energy come
dashing up the way.
Do you handicap the runners?
Do.
Some nights we put a summer coat
on one, a winter on another.
Three minutes.
And should your man
turn terrible feverish
swift, why then we add the
sweetest burden of them all,
drink.
What else?
Fogarty, run that in.
Now, make O'Gavin take two
swigs, all right, big ones.
He's a two handicap man.
Two it is.
Well, Doone here has already
made his weight at Heeber's.
Even all.
Oh, go on, Doone, let our
money be a light burden on you.
Let us see you burst through
that door victorious and first.
O'Gavin's handicapped.
Fine.
Doone, inside.
Ready.
Good luck, lad.
Over to you, Mr. Timulty.
Right.
Timulty checks the
contestants, seated
opposite each other, second row
center, coats half buttoned,
scarves properly furled.
Two minutes.
Post time.
Oh, you a darling man.
All set, they're ready.
It is nearly over.
You tell towards
the end of any film.
The music has a way of
getting out of hand.
Ah, full chorus and orchestra
behind the singing maid.
I must tomorrow
for the entirety.
What's the tune?
TIMULTY: Oh, off with
the tune, last bets.
Three pound on Doone.
What's your
decision, Mr. Douglas?
My books on O'Gavin.
Given
Without having seen him?
Dark horse.
Then the O'Casey is on Doone.
Brave choice.
Form an aisle, lads,
over here, yank, with me.
Fogarty, lay your
ear to the door.
It's [inaudible] alright.
The damn music is extra loud.
Well, it'll be over
soon, whoever's to die
is dying at this very moment.
Louder still, there.
The grand ta-ta.
They're off.
Clear the doors. (rumble)
Here they come.
Listen to their feet.
Oh, like thunder it is.
Come on, Doone.
Come on, O'Gavin.
Come on, Doone.
[shouting]
The winner!
So I am.
TIMULTY: So you are.
Attention. the
national anthem.
Where's O'Gavin?
HEEBER: Where's O'Gavin?
O'Gavin!
Could he have sprinted
into the men's, now?
What will he be
doing in there?
There's an ignorant
son of Ireland for you.
O'Gavin, good
grief maybe coming up
the aisle he had a heart
attack and is lying there,
gasping his.
[interposing voices]
O'Gavin, dear
thing, how is it?
O'Gavin.
You haven't moved.
Why're you still
sitting there?
DOUGLAS: What's
that on his cheek?
A teardrop A tear.
Ah, she has the
voice of an angel.
Who does?
That one up there
on the silver screen.
Does he mean Deanna Durbin?
It's the voice of me
dear dead grandmother.
Your grandmother's behind.
You mean just her singing
made you forget to run?
Just!
Just!
It would be a sacrilege
to bound from a cinema
after a recital such as the
like of which I've just heard.
It'd be like throwing
bombs at a wedding.
You might have warned us
that it was to be a no contest.
I didn't have the chance.
It-- it crept over me
like a divine sickness.
That last bit she sang,
the last rose of summer,
was it not, Doone?
What else did she sing?
What else?
The man has just lost
some of your days pay.
And Mr. Douglas here his fine
book, and you want to know
what else did she sing.
Oh sure, It's money
that rules the world,
but it's music which
holds down the fiction.
Hey, what's going
on down there?
'Tis Phil, the- the
cinema projectionist.
Phil, me darling,
it's only the gang.
We got a bit of a
problem here with ethics.
Not to say aesthetics.
I think we should run it over.
Run it over?
A lovely idea.
It is not.
Doone won fair and square.
No, no, your man may be right.
An act of God
incapacitated O'Gavin.
You mean a tent-run
flicker from the year 1937
caught him by the short hairs.
Phil, me dear, would the last
reel of the Deanna Durbin film
still be there?
Well, it ain't in the ladies.
What a with the boy has.
Well, Phil, do you think
you could thread the singing
girl back through
the infernal machine
and play us the end again?
Is that what you all want?
Sure.
Done.
Places everyone.
Oh no, wait,
wait, wait a minute.
We don't have any audience.
There are no obstacles.
It won't be a fair race.
Well then, let's all
of us be the audience.
Right.
I beg your pardon.
Yes, sir.
Well, there's no one outside
at the exit to judge who wins.
He's right.
Your man's become the expert.
Nolan, out you go.
There's our stakes.
Go on.
There's a fine
sporting man, sir.
You'll know that we can
now re-place our bets.
Would you like to bet the same?
Well, that's very
sporting of you, Mr. Finn.
This time the book's on Doone.
Did you hear that
insult, O'Gavin?
Now I'm saddled with you.
This time, when the girl sings,
would you please go deaf?
Are you clogs
down there ready?
If Deanna Durbin
in the anthem is.
Anthem is well.
All right, here goes.
Keep me alert
to practicalities
instead of ornamentation, sir.
Shut up.
Ah, ah there's the mystery.
I'm counting on you, Doone.
See her look,
isn't she lovely?
The bet, Doone, get ready.
All right, let
me stir my bones.
Oh, oh, Saint preserve us.
What?
My right leg is dead.
Asleep?
I'm sunk.
You'll have to run for me.
What?
Plunge straight.
And if you step on
anyone, don't look back.
There, the song's almost done.
Are you tensed?
Am I?
Flying passions win, sir.
The end!
Phil, darling, once again.
This time, without the anthem.
RAY (VOICEOVER): People ask,
where do you get your ideas?
Right here.
All of this is my
magician's toy shop.
I'm Ray Bradbury and this is--
[music playing]
[bell dings]
DOUGLAS (VOICEOVER): Douglas
is the name, and writer I am.
For me, a secondhand bookshop
is bliss at any time.
But when it beckons from
the banks of the Liffey
in the midst of
Dublin's fair city,
then it is paradise itself.
And this paradise contained
treasure, a first edition
from 1916 of that wonderful
autobiography of youth,
which reading in
my teens had made
me certain I would be a writer.
(cash register)
Thank you.
DOUGLAS (VOICEOVER):
An enchanted shop,
but with my prize
from the past, I
stepped straight
into a happening
and the beginning of a story.
- Whoa!
Lord have mercy on us.
I'm terribly sorry.
Neither damage done
nor revenge taken.
Wait, you're Mr. Douglas
the great American writer.
Well, not so great.
And you're mister--
Doone.
Well, you being a writer,
I expect you're waiting
for something to happen here?
Yes, but what does go on?
What do I look for?
Oh, something awful,
something terrible,
and something beautiful.
Ah hell, come with me.
Come on.
Well, come on, come on.
Do you see that?
A movie theater, yes.
Right then, come
on, over here.
And do you see this?
Heeber Finn's pub.
None other.
Would you notice similarities?
Similarities?
There's the theater,
and there's the theater.
Both are theaters?
[music playing]
DOONE: Boys.
It's me.
ALL: Doone!
Does everyone know you?
If they don't they're dead.
Hannah and Keely,
Ray, O'Neal, Duffy,
and Kelly, and the owner and
the pub himself, Heeber Finn.
Meet Mr. Raymond Douglas,
the world's greatest writer.
Outside of Sean O'Casey.
Come, you're a
man of discernment.
Would you look here
at what's above me?
DOUGLAS: A theater program.
Indeed it is, for the riotous
opening night of Mr. O'Casey's
plow and the stars, 1926.
Signed by the man
himself and the company.
Well, that is something.
But then, so is this.
Oh, that is a prize.
Oh, where did you find it?
A little shop, this
side of the river,
just left to the
O'Connell bridge.
Clancey's.
He's the man for books.
Looks like a
wild night in here.
Was that said, sir
in scorn or admiration?
Well I-- I'm not really sure.
But there's a confusion
in your mind, then?
Yes, that's it.
Ah, he's confused, boys.
Confused, yeah, you
can say that again.
Look out.
Lads.
I'll have a ten.
[cheering]
So you're new to Dublin,
Ireland, and Heeber Finn's pub.
All three of those, yes.
Well, that's why I
have brought him around
for a special
orientation program.
Shall we orientate him, boys?
Timulty's my name.
And do you think, do you, there
are no wild nights in Ireland?
Oh, I didn't say that.
You think it.
It shows in your eyes.
And now what would
you say if I was
to tell you that you're at
the very eye of the hurricane.
You were in the
damned earthquake,
half buried up to your
neck and you don't know it.
Leave off, Timulty.
Now I brought him here,
and it's up to me to pray.
Now you see, you're here
in Finn's pub, which
is the central
betting agency for one
of the greatest sporting
events of local consequence.
Sporting event?
Come along, boys, explain it
to Mr. Douglas from the states.
Mr. Douglas is in uh--
Pictures.
I write screenplays
for the movies.
Well, for the pictures.
Oh, it's too much.
Are you staggered, Timulty?
- I am.
- Beyond belief.
What is?
Well, your occupation and
our sporting event, they're
all in the same bed.
HEEBER: Twins.
Are you much for the sports?
Do you know such things
as the cross-country,
the 440, and other such
man on foot excursions?
Well, I've been to
two Olympic games.
Well now, is it not time
you heard of the special
all-Irish decathlon
event that has to do
with the picture theaters?
I've already shown
him the stadium.
Shall we explain the rest?
DOUGLAS: Stadium?
You showed me the cinema.
TIMULTY: Doone, say who you are.
Doone, the greatest
anthem sprinter
in the whole of Ireland.
The greatest what sprinter?
A-N-T-H-E-M anthem sprinter.
The fastest.
Since you've been in Dublin,
have you been to the pictures?
Huh, 14 times.
Ah, you're a fanatic,
then, as are we
all, through need in
this godforsaken town.
And as the film came
to an end each night,
did you notice anything
tending towards the peculiar?
Hold on.
You can't mean the playing
of the Irish national anthem.
Can we boys?
ALL: We can.
Each night, every night for
tens of dreadful years, the end
of each damn film all over
Ireland, in every cinema,
as if we'd never heard
the baleful tune before,
the orchestra strikes
up for Ireland.
Wait, what happens then?
Why, if you're any
man at all, you try
and get out of the theater
in those few precious moments
between the end of the film
and the start of the anthem.
Oh, he's nailed it.
No disrespect meant.
And none taken.
And so, as you've
noted, in that interval,
any audience in its right
mind beats it the hell out.
And the best of the crowd is--
Doone, your anthem sprinter.
TIMULTY: Smile at the man, boys.
MAN: Place your bets.
The book's open, lads.
MAN: A pound on O'Gavin.
HEEBER: What do you say
to a bet on our event?
Oh, sure, I'll make a bet.
Quiet lads, give us a moment.
When you lay your
bets, lads, Mr. Douglas
will be joining you.
And because he's a sportsman,
we'll make it a bet worthwhile.
You can bet on
whoever you favor,
and I'll back the other man.
Okay, what are the stakes?
DOONE: Right, what
are the stakes?
Mr. Douglas has a
valuable book, lads.
One that we could do with
showing off in the pub.
Portrait of the
artist, 1916 edition.
And I'll wager our
Plough Into Stars program
against your James Joyce.
What do you say, Mr. Douglas?
I say you're on, sir.
Doone, Doone, there you are.
Does an event loom?
It does.
Michael, would you
be so good as to show
our American friend here the
place of the grand sport.
My pleasure.
[movie playing]
MICHAEL: Now at this moment,
not 100 feet away, down
the slight declivity
towards the silver screen,
seated in the second
row, center, is O'Gavin.
The other anthem sprinter.
Your man's eerie.
That film wasn't "It
Happened One Night".
Oh, that was last month.
They've not got round to
taking down the names.
This film tonight
is a Deanna Derbin,
brought back by the asking.
What the time is now?
8:30.
In one hour, the
cinema will be letting
the customers out in a hurry.
And if we was to let
Doone, here, in for a test
of speed and agility--
Ah, it's straight
to the buff I am.
Oh, Gavin will be ready
to take the challenge.
Well, Gavin didn't come to the
show just for an anthem sprint,
did he?
- Good grief, no.
He came for the Deanna
Derbin songs and all.
Him playing the banjo and
knowing music like he does.
But if he should
casually note my entrance,
me being conspicuous
by me late arrival,
oh, Gavin'll know what's up.
Ay, they will
salute each other
and then sit until the
end hoves in sight.
Oh, let me at him.
Can your heart stand
to see the bloodcurdling
anthem sprinters in full
cry in dreadful competition?
It can.
I mean, will.
- Back to Heeber's, boys.
Come on!
That should do you.
Do you have teams
of anthem sprinters?
Oh, teams.
There's the Galway runners,
the Connemara treadwell's,
the Donegal lightfoots--
And the fastest
team of all is made up
of Irishmen living in London.
The Queens own invaders.
We're fast, don't you see, to
flee from God save the Queen.
Five minutes, lads,
to the grand ta-da.
Come on, drink up, boys.
Off to the movies.
I see the details of our
sport have you bewildered.
Well, let me nail down
the rules for you.
Fogarty,
Here.
Door listener supreme.
Nolan and Kelly.
Here.
Aisle judges superintend.
Got myself as the timekeeper.
Then there's Clancy,
Peevy, O'Neill
and Riley, general spectators.
Dillon here has the book.
Timulty you know,
general theater assessor.
And Doone, of course, the man.
O'Gavin is there in the depths.
So much for the participants.
And now for the
stadium for our sport.
Four minutes.
Exits well placed.
Hinges well oiled.
It's the crowds, you see.
There's a proper mixture of
sporting blood and folks who
mind enough to leap aside
should a sprinter squandering
his energy come
dashing up the way.
Do you handicap the runners?
Do.
Some nights we put a summer coat
on one, a winter on another.
Three minutes.
And should your man
turn terrible feverish
swift, why then we add the
sweetest burden of them all,
drink.
What else?
Fogarty, run that in.
Now, make O'Gavin take two
swigs, all right, big ones.
He's a two handicap man.
Two it is.
Well, Doone here has already
made his weight at Heeber's.
Even all.
Oh, go on, Doone, let our
money be a light burden on you.
Let us see you burst through
that door victorious and first.
O'Gavin's handicapped.
Fine.
Doone, inside.
Ready.
Good luck, lad.
Over to you, Mr. Timulty.
Right.
Timulty checks the
contestants, seated
opposite each other, second row
center, coats half buttoned,
scarves properly furled.
Two minutes.
Post time.
Oh, you a darling man.
All set, they're ready.
It is nearly over.
You tell towards
the end of any film.
The music has a way of
getting out of hand.
Ah, full chorus and orchestra
behind the singing maid.
I must tomorrow
for the entirety.
What's the tune?
TIMULTY: Oh, off with
the tune, last bets.
Three pound on Doone.
What's your
decision, Mr. Douglas?
My books on O'Gavin.
Given
Without having seen him?
Dark horse.
Then the O'Casey is on Doone.
Brave choice.
Form an aisle, lads,
over here, yank, with me.
Fogarty, lay your
ear to the door.
It's [inaudible] alright.
The damn music is extra loud.
Well, it'll be over
soon, whoever's to die
is dying at this very moment.
Louder still, there.
The grand ta-ta.
They're off.
Clear the doors. (rumble)
Here they come.
Listen to their feet.
Oh, like thunder it is.
Come on, Doone.
Come on, O'Gavin.
Come on, Doone.
[shouting]
The winner!
So I am.
TIMULTY: So you are.
Attention. the
national anthem.
Where's O'Gavin?
HEEBER: Where's O'Gavin?
O'Gavin!
Could he have sprinted
into the men's, now?
What will he be
doing in there?
There's an ignorant
son of Ireland for you.
O'Gavin, good
grief maybe coming up
the aisle he had a heart
attack and is lying there,
gasping his.
[interposing voices]
O'Gavin, dear
thing, how is it?
O'Gavin.
You haven't moved.
Why're you still
sitting there?
DOUGLAS: What's
that on his cheek?
A teardrop A tear.
Ah, she has the
voice of an angel.
Who does?
That one up there
on the silver screen.
Does he mean Deanna Durbin?
It's the voice of me
dear dead grandmother.
Your grandmother's behind.
You mean just her singing
made you forget to run?
Just!
Just!
It would be a sacrilege
to bound from a cinema
after a recital such as the
like of which I've just heard.
It'd be like throwing
bombs at a wedding.
You might have warned us
that it was to be a no contest.
I didn't have the chance.
It-- it crept over me
like a divine sickness.
That last bit she sang,
the last rose of summer,
was it not, Doone?
What else did she sing?
What else?
The man has just lost
some of your days pay.
And Mr. Douglas here his fine
book, and you want to know
what else did she sing.
Oh sure, It's money
that rules the world,
but it's music which
holds down the fiction.
Hey, what's going
on down there?
'Tis Phil, the- the
cinema projectionist.
Phil, me darling,
it's only the gang.
We got a bit of a
problem here with ethics.
Not to say aesthetics.
I think we should run it over.
Run it over?
A lovely idea.
It is not.
Doone won fair and square.
No, no, your man may be right.
An act of God
incapacitated O'Gavin.
You mean a tent-run
flicker from the year 1937
caught him by the short hairs.
Phil, me dear, would the last
reel of the Deanna Durbin film
still be there?
Well, it ain't in the ladies.
What a with the boy has.
Well, Phil, do you think
you could thread the singing
girl back through
the infernal machine
and play us the end again?
Is that what you all want?
Sure.
Done.
Places everyone.
Oh no, wait,
wait, wait a minute.
We don't have any audience.
There are no obstacles.
It won't be a fair race.
Well then, let's all
of us be the audience.
Right.
I beg your pardon.
Yes, sir.
Well, there's no one outside
at the exit to judge who wins.
He's right.
Your man's become the expert.
Nolan, out you go.
There's our stakes.
Go on.
There's a fine
sporting man, sir.
You'll know that we can
now re-place our bets.
Would you like to bet the same?
Well, that's very
sporting of you, Mr. Finn.
This time the book's on Doone.
Did you hear that
insult, O'Gavin?
Now I'm saddled with you.
This time, when the girl sings,
would you please go deaf?
Are you clogs
down there ready?
If Deanna Durbin
in the anthem is.
Anthem is well.
All right, here goes.
Keep me alert
to practicalities
instead of ornamentation, sir.
Shut up.
Ah, ah there's the mystery.
I'm counting on you, Doone.
See her look,
isn't she lovely?
The bet, Doone, get ready.
All right, let
me stir my bones.
Oh, oh, Saint preserve us.
What?
My right leg is dead.
Asleep?
I'm sunk.
You'll have to run for me.
What?
Plunge straight.
And if you step on
anyone, don't look back.
There, the song's almost done.
Are you tensed?
Am I?
Flying passions win, sir.
The end!
Phil, darling, once again.
This time, without the anthem.