This Is No Mistake No Accident When You Think the Final Nail Is in Think Again

Withnail and I is a 1986 film one-act written and directed by Bruce Robinson and starring Richard E. Grant (Withnail), Paul McGann (Marwood, the "I" of the title), Richard Griffiths (Uncle Monty) and Ralph Brown (Danny). The movie, which takes place in England in belatedly 1969, involves the misadventures of a pair of chronically unemployed actors.

Withnail [edit]

• Nosotros've gone on holiday by mistake.
• I think we've been in here besides long. I feel unusual.
• I demand to take some alcohol!
• How can it exist and then cold in here? Information technology'due south similar Greenland in here. Nosotros've got to become some booze. It's the just solution to this intense cold. Something'south got to be done. We can't go on similar this. I'm a trained actor reduced to the status of a bum. I hateful, expect at us! Nothing that reasonable members of order demand as their rights! No fridges, no televisions, no phones! Much more than of this and I'one thousand going to apply for meals on wheels.
• Nosotros want the finest wines bachelor to humanity, we want them hither and we want them now!
• Mind, we're bona fide, we're not from London.
• I'm not having this shag sack insulting me! Allow him get his drugs out.
• (Ranting on a mountain) Bastards! You lot'll all suffer! I'll show the lot of you! I'm gonna be a sta-a-a-a-ar!
• Monty, yous terrible cunt!
• I clinch yous I'm non [drunk], officeholder, honestly. I've only had a few ales.
• Black puddings are no expert to us. I desire something's flesh!
• Nonsense, this is a far superior drink to meths! The wankers on site don't beverage it because they can't afford information technology!
• There must and shall exist aspirin, or I shall die, here, on this fucking mountainside!
• These are the sort of windows faces await in at!
• The only plan I'm probable to get on is the fucking news!
• I'm in a park and I'thou practically expressionless; what good'southward the countryside?
• (He spits out a globule of phlegm) Jesus, expect at that. Autonomously from a raw murphy, that's the only solid to accept passed my lips in the last 60 hours. I must be ill.
• All right, this is the plan. We arrive at that place and get wrecked, then we eat a pork pie, and then we drop a couple of Surmontil-50s each. That means we'll miss out on Monday only come up smiling Tuesday morning.
• Costless to those who can afford information technology, very expensive to those who tin't.
• Scrubbers! Scrubbers! Piddling tarts, they love it!
• Look at this - blow blackspot? These aren't accidents, they're throwing themselves into the road! Throwing themselves into the road gladly to escape all this hideousness! (Heckles pedestrian) Throw yourself into the road, darling, you haven't got a hazard!
• I feel similar a pig shat in my caput.
• Look at my tongue. It'south wearing a yellowish sock.
• Don't threaten me with a dead fish!
• Bounder asked me to understudy Konstantin in The Seagull. I'yard not going to understudy everyone. Specially that pimp! Anyhow, I loathe those Russian plays. Always full of women staring out of windows, whining about ducks going to Moscow.
• Right, you fucker, I'grand going to practise the washing upwards.
• (Paraphrasing Hamlet) I have of tardily — but wherefore I know non — lost all my mirth... and indeed it goes so heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame, the world, seems to me a sterile promontory; this almost excellent canopy, the air — look you, this dauntless o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with gilded fire — why, it appeareth cipher to me but a foul and pestilent congregation of vapors. What a piece of piece of work is a man! How noble in reason, how infinite in faculties! ...How like an angel, in anticipation how like a god! The beauty of the world. The paragon of animals. And nonetheless, to me, what is this quintessence of dust? Man delights not me. No, nor adult female neither... nor woman neither.

Marwood [edit]

• (Voice-over) Thirteen million Londoners have to wake up to this. Murder and All-Bran and rape. And I'm sitting in this bloody shack and I tin can't cope with Withnail. I must go dwelling at once and talk over his problems in depth.

• (Voice-over) Even a stopped clock tells the right time twice a day, and for once I'one thousand inclined to believe Withnail is right. We are indeed drifting into the arena of the unwell. Making enemies of our own futures.

• (Voice-over) Speed is like a dozen transatlantic flights without ever getting off the aeroplane. Fourth dimension alter. You lose, you gain. Makes no difference so long as you keep taking the pills. But sooner or later you lot've got to become out considering it'south crashing. Then all at once those frozen hours melt out through the nervous system and seep out the pores.

• (Voice-over) Danny'southward hither. Headhunter to his friends. Headhunter to everyone. He doesn't take any friends. The but people he converses with are his clients, and occasionally the constabulary. The purveyor of rare herbs and proscribed chemicals is back. Volition we never be set free?

• (Vocalism-over) I could inappreciably piss straight with fear. Here was a man with 3/iv of an inch of encephalon who'd taken a dislike to me. What had I done to offend him? I don't consciously offend big men like this. And this one has a definite imbalance of hormone in him. Get whatsoever more masculine than him and y'all'd take to live up a tree.

• "I fuck arses"? Who fucks arses? Peradventure he fucks arses! Peradventure he's written this in some moment of drunken sincerity! I'm in considerable danger here, I must leave of here at once.

• [Contemplating how to kill a chicken for supper] Information technology's got dreadful beady eyes, they stare at you. Best kill it quick before it tries to make friends with united states.

• I'one thousand not from London, you know.

• Stop saying that, Withnail, of course he's the fucking farmer!

• A coward yous are, Withnail! An expert on bulls you are not!

• We are not drunks, we are multi-millionaires!

• Yous're total of Scotch you light-headed tool.

• Jesus Christ! Why take you drugged their onions?!

• My thumbs have gone weird! I'm in the center of a encarmine overdose! My middle's beating similar a fucked clock! I feel dreadful, I feel really dreadful.

Uncle Monty [edit]

• Information technology is the most shattering experience of a young man's life when one forenoon he awakes and quite reasonably says to himself, "I will never play the Dane."
• (referring to his cat) Get that damned picayune swine out of hither! It's trying to become itself in with you lot. Trying for even more than advantage. Information technology's obsessed with its gut. Information technology's like a bloody rugby ball at present, information technology will die, it will die!
• (referring to his cat) Yet again that oaf has destroyed my day!
• Oh! you little traitors. I think the carrot infinitely more fascinating than the geranium. The carrot has mystery. Flowers are essentially tarts. Prostitutes for the bees. There is a certain je ne sais quoi - oh, so very special - about a house, immature carrot...Excuse me...
• I mean to take you lot, even if information technology must be burglary!
• Oh my boys, my boys, we are at the stop of an age! We live in a land of weather forecasts and breakfasts that set up in, shat on by Tories, shovelled up by Labour, and here we are, we 3; perhaps the concluding isle of beauty... in the world
• Hither hare here... ...here hare hither!
• Sherry? Oh dear no no... No, I'd exist sucked into his trap! Ane of the states has got to stay on baby-sit. He's and then mauve, we don't know what he's planning!
• I often wonder where Norman is at present. Probably wintering with his mother in Guildford. A cat, and the rain... Vim nether the sink, and both bars on. But old now, old. There tin can be no true beauty without decay.
• I'm preparing myself to forgive you. I think you've been punished plenty. I think we better release you from the légume, and transfer your talents to the meat.
• I can never touch meat until it'due south cooked. As a youth, I used to weep in butchers' shops!
• Come up on lads, let's go abode, the sky's start to bruise. Night must autumn and nosotros shall exist forced to camp.
• Get with it. It's lodge's crime, not ours.

Danny [edit]

• You lot're looking very cute, man. You lot been away? St Peter preached the epistles to the apostles looking like that.
• I don't advise a haircut, man. All hairdressers are in the employment of the authorities. Hair are your aerials. They choice up signals from the cosmos and transmit them direct into the brain. This is the reason bald-headed men are uptight.
• Change down, man, notice your neutral space. Y'all got a rush. It will laissez passer. Be seated.
• If you lot're hanging on to a rising airship, you're presented with a difficult decision — allow go before information technology's too late or hang on and proceed getting higher, posing the question: how long can you keep a grip on the rope? They're selling hippie wigs in Woolworth's, homo. The greatest decade in the history of flesh is over. And equally Presuming Ed here has so consistently pointed out, we have failed to paint it blackness.

Jake The Poacher [edit]

• I been watching you, especially you, prancing like a tit. You want working on, boy!

Dialogue [edit]

Withnail: [reading from the paper] "In a earth exclusive interview, 33-year-old shotputter Geoff Woade, who weighs 317 pounds, admitted taking massive doses of anabolic steroids, drugs banned in sport. 'He used to get in bad tempers and deed upwards,' said his wife. 'He used to pick on me. But now he's stopped, he'south much better in our sex life and in our general life.'" Jesus Christ, this huge, thatched head with its earlobes and missive is now considered sane. "Geoff Woade is feeling better and is now prepared to step dorsum into society and start tossing his orb about." Look at him. Look at Geoff Woade. His head must weigh fifty pounds on its own. Imagine the size of his balls. Imagine getting into a fight with the fucker!

Marwood: Please, I don't feel good.

Withnail: That'southward what yous'd say, but that wouldn't wash with Geoff. No, he'd similar a bit of pleading. Add spice to information technology. In fact, he'd probably tell you lot what he was going to do before he did it. "I'm going to pull your head off." "Oh no, please, don't pull my head off." "I'thou going to pull your head off, because I don't like your caput."

---

Withnail: Accept you been at the controls?

Marwood: What are y'all talking nearly?

Withnail: The thermostats! What have you washed to them?

Marwood: I haven't touched them.

Withnail: Then why has my head gone numb?

---

Withnail: You've had an audition. Why tin't I take an audition? Information technology'south ridiculous. I've been to drama schoolhouse. I'1000 good-looking. I tell you, I've a fuck sight more than talent than half the rubbish that gets on television. Why can't I get on television?

Marwood: Well, I don't know. It'll happen.

Withnail: Will it? That's what you say. The only programme I'm likely to get on is the fucking news.

---

Withnail: Where is he? I'yard utterly arseholed.

Marwood: We're early. We desire to get in there, don't nosotros? Eat some cake. Soak upwardly the alcohol.

---

Marwood: What about what'southward-his-name?

Withnail: What about him?

Marwood: Why don't you give him a call?

Withnail: What for?

Marwood: To ask him about his firm.

Withnail: You want me to call what'southward-his-name and enquire him near his house?

Marwood: Why non?

Withnail: All right. What's his number?

Marwood: I've no idea, I've never met him.

Withnail: Well neither have I. What the fuck are you talking about?

---

Danny: I happened to be looking for a suit for The Coalman two weeks ago. For reasons I can't really discuss with you, he had to go to Jamaica. Got busted coming back through Heathrow. He had a weight nether his fez. Nosotros worked out it would be very handy karma for him to get hold of a suit. Simply he's a very low-temperature spade, the Coalman. Goes into courtroom in his caftan and a bong. This doesn't go downwardly at all well. They tin handle the caftan only they cannot handle the bell. So there's this estimate sitting there in the cape similar fucking Batman with this really rather far out-looking hat.

Withnail: Wig.

Danny: No, homo. This was more like a long white hat. And so he looks at the Coalman and says, "What's all this? This is a courtroom, man. This own't fancy dress." And the Coalman looks at him and says, "Do you lot think yous wait normal, Your Honor?" Cunt give him two years.

---

Danny: Has he just been disrepair?

Marwood: No.

Danny: So why's he wearing that one-time accommodate?

Withnail: Old suit?! This accommodate was cutting by Hawke's of Savile Row! Just considering the best tailoring you've ever seen is to a higher place your fucking appendix doesn't hateful annihilation!

Danny: Don't get uptight with me, man. Because if you do, I'll accept to give you a dose of medicine. And if I spike you, yous'll know you've been spoken to.

Withnail: You wouldn't spike me, yous're too mean. Besides, there's nil invented I couldn't accept.

Danny: If I medicined you, you'd think a brain neoplasm was a birthday present.

Withnail: I could take double anything you could.

Danny: Very, very foolish words, homo.

Marwood: He's right, Withnail, look at him! His mechanism's gone, he'due south had more drugs than you've had hot dinners.

Withnail: I'm not having this shag sack insulting me! Let him get his drugs out!

Danny: This doll is extremely dangerous; it has voodoo qualities. [takes pill out of doll] Trade: Pheno-dihydrochloride-benzorex. Street: The Embalmer.

Withnail: Assurance, I'll consume it and run a mile!

Danny: Absurd your boots, man. This pill's valued at two quid.

Withnail: 2 quid? You're out of your mind!

Marwood: That's sense, Withnail.

Withnail: You can stuff it up your arse for nothing and fuck off while yous're doing it!

---

Withnail: Have you got soup? Why don't I get any soup?

Marwood: Coffee.

Withnail: Why don't you lot utilize a cup like any other human being?

Marwood: Why don't yous wash up occasionally like any other human beingness?

Withnail: (Appalled) How dare you! How dare you! How dare you telephone call me inhumane?!

Marwood: I didn't phone call y'all inhumane. You only imagined it. Calm downward.

Withnail: Right you fucker, I'k going to practise the washing up!

Marwood: No, you tin't, it's impossible. I swear to you lot, I've looked into it. Listen to me, listen to me! At that place are are things in there - there'southward a teabag growing! You lot oasis't slept in sixty hours, you're in no shape to tackle it. Expect till the morning and we'll become in together.

Withnail: This is the morning. Stand aside!

Marwood: No, you don't sympathise! I think at that place may be something living in there.

Withnail: What exercise yous hateful, a rat?

Marwood: It'due south possible, it'south possible.

Withnail: Then the fucker will rue the mean solar day!

---

Withnail: Are we there?

Marwood: No we're not, we're here. We're in the centre of a fucking gale. Look out that window, if you run across anything, anything at all, tell me.

Withnail: Where'south the whiskey?

Marwood: What for?

Withnail: I've got a bastard behind the eyes. I can't accept aspirins without a drink. Where'south the aspirins?

Marwood: Probably in the bathroom.

Withnail: You mean we've come up out here in the middle of fucking nowhere without aspirins?

Marwood: Where are we?!

Withnail: How should I know where we are? I feel like a pig shat in my head!

---

Withnail: Would information technology be in bad form to plagiarise a toast?

Monty: Depends entirely on the quality of the wine. In this example, it almost certainly would not.

Withnail: In that case, "To a delightful weekend in the land."

---

Withnail: 'Scuse me. We were wondering if we could possibly buy a pheasant off of you.

Jake: No. I've got nothing to sell.

Withnail: Come on, old boy. What'due south in your hump?

Jake: At present look, you lot. These pheasants are for my pot. These eels hither are for his pot. What makes you lot possibly remember I've got anything for your pot?

Withnail: What pot?

Marwood: The cooking pot.

---

Marwood: Withnail, you bounder, wake up. Wake upward, you bastard or I burn this bastard bed down!

Withnail: (Stirring) I deny all accusations. What do you desire?

Marwood: I accept just narrowly avoided having a buggering. And I've come in here with the limited intention of wishing one on you! Having said that, I now intend to leave for London.

Withnail: Concord on, don't allow your imagination run abroad with yous...

Marwood: Imagination! I have just finished fighting a naked man! How dare you tell him I'm a toilet trader?!

Withnail: Tactical necessity. If I hadn't told him y'all were agile we'd never take got the cottage.

Marwood: I'd never accept wanted it, not with him in it!

Withnail: I never thought he'd come all this way.

Marwood: Monty? He'd become to New York!

Withnail: Calculated chance.

Marwood: What is all this "tactical necessity" and "calculated risk?!" This is me, naked in a corner! And how dare you tell him I dearest you?! And how dare you tell him you rejected me?! How dare you lot tell him that?!

Withnail: (Wry grinning) Sorry about that. Got a flake carried abroad. Sort of said it without thinking.

Marwood: (Takes the shotgun) Well let me tell yous something, Withnail. If he comes into my room once more, it's murder, and you'll be held responsible in constabulary!

Taglines [edit]

• You are invited to spend an hilarious weekend in the English countryside.
• If you don't recall the sixties, don't worry — neither did they.

External links [edit]

• Withnail and I quotes at the Internet Moving picture Database

teelligh1977.blogspot.com

Source: https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Withnail_and_I

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