An Englishman Abroad (1983) (TV Movie)

An Englishman Abroad Based is a 1983 BBC television drama film based on a chance meeting in Moscow of noted English actress Coral Browne and notorious spy Guy Burgess, a member of the Cambridge spy ring who spied for the Soviet Union while an officer at the MI6. It is a touching portrait of a lonely man torn between his Marxist principals and his ironic longing for contact with the upper class in Britain from whom he sprung.

♪ (music) ♪

♪ Who, stole my heart away ♪

♪ Who, makes me dream all day ♪

♪ Dreams I know can never be true ♪

♪ Seems as though I'll ever be blue ♪

♪ Who, means my happiness ♪

♪ Who, would I answer yes to ♪

♪ Well, you ought to guess who ♪

♪ No one but you ♪

♪ (crescendo) ♪

♪ ( diminuendo) ♪

♪ (Welcome gong and trumpets) ♪
(Hamlet playing)

(King Claudius)
Welcome, dear Rosencrantz and Guildenstern

Moreover that we much did long to see you,

The need we have to use you did provoke

Our hasty sending.

Something have you heard

Of Hamlet’s transformation;

so call it,

Sith, nor the exterior nor the inward man

Resembles that it was.

What it should be,

More than his father’s death,

that thus hath put him

So much from the understanding of himself,

I cannot dream of:

I entreat you both,

That, being of so young days
brought up with him,

And sith so neighbor'd
to his youth and humor,

That you vouchsafe
your rest here in our court

Some little time: so by your companies
- Sit properly. It's a theater, not a pub.

To draw him on to pleasures,
and to gather,

So much as from occasion you may glean,

Whether aught, unknown to us,

afflicts him thus,

That, open'd,

lies within our remedy.

(Queen Gertrude) Good gentlemen,
- Excuse me, madam.

he hath much talk'd of you;
[russian]

And sure I am two men there is not living

To whom he more adheres.
(inaudible)

If it will please you

To show us so much gentry and goodwill

As to expend your time with us awhile,

For the supply and profit of our hope,

Your visitation shall receive such thanks

As fits a king’s remembrance.
(thinks) Somebody's just walking out...

(Rosencratz) Both your majesties, might
by the sovereign power you have of us,

Put your dread pleasures more into command

Than to entreaty.

(Guildenstern) But we both obey,
And here give up ourselves, in full bent

What a pleasure in this day and age to
hear the language so beautifully spoken.

(Guildenstern)
To be commanded.

Dear, dear, I'm not walking out.
I just have to go for a piss, you see.

(Gertrude)Thanks,
gentle Guildenstern and Rosencrantz

And I beseech you instantly

Wait and listen.

(Gertrude) Go some of you,
And bring these gentlemen where Hamlet is.

(Guildenstern) Heavens make our presence
and practices pleasant and helpful to him!

(Clearing throat)

(footsteps)

Going to the… excuse me.

Hmm..

Gosh!

What is this? This is shameful.

What is this?

(footsteps)

♪ Our hope for years to come ♪

♪ Our shelter from the stormy blast ♪

♪ And our eternal home. ♪

♪ Before the hills in order stood ♪

No soap.

There's never any soap!

(Russian): There is no soap, why?

(Russian):
We weren't given soap, that's why!

Do I want to be sick?

Huh?

No, no, not yet.

Hmm.

You know,

you remind me of a stalker I once knew.

♪ (Music) ♪

(Applause)

(door being opened)

♪ (soft music) ♪

(Guy Burgess) My dear lady,

I do assure you,

one is an old friend of the leading actor.

We were at Cambridge together.

Young men together at university.

They've come such a long way
one simply must

put one's head around the door.

(Russian): Your pass, please.
Otherwise, you won't get in.

My Pass? Well, my Pass...

I'm sure I'm not the first person

to remark on your pronounced resemblance
to the late Ernest Bevin.

It is most striking.

You could be sisters.

Yes shocking like this, I know...
but quite amusing. Mmm-hmm.

Do I look such a tremendous villain?

And a special news.
- (Russian): Your light bulb's burned out.

Oh, uh, do hurry....
One is not feeling at all well.

Oh, dear.Thank you.
(clears throat)

(buzzer rings)

Thank you.
(coughs)

(door closing)

♪ (music) ♪

♪ (unsettling music) ♪

(muffled nausea)

(sigh)

The drink, the drink.

(pukes)

(door bangs)

It is the drink!

(pukes)

Aren't you feeling well?

(clears throat)

Yes, thank you.

I am perfectly all right.
(pukes again)

Well, I'll get the woman.

(knocking on the door)

I'm in a French faux.

Oh, run that tap, for God's sake.

Oh, yes.

I wouldn't care,
but it's only the interval.

If you want to come round and be sick

you might at least save it
for the end of the performance.

Oh!

Pears soap!

Who are you?

And who is that boy outside?

Boy?

Outside?

(footsteps)

I don't know.

I haven't seen that one before.

Could I have one of these?

(sighs)

I love your frock.

You're very rude.
Are you from the embassy?

Not exactly.

Well, there can't be many other Englishmen
in Moscow, who are you?

I was at Cambridge with Hamlet.

Well, why don't we tell him you're here?

He's only down the corridor.

All in good time.

The question is, you see...
Are we as welcome as ever?

I know your face.

Craven A,

for your throat's sake.

Mmm.

Are you enjoying the play?

I'm adoring it.

I like the local Laertes.

He goes rather well into times.

Yes, that's what he thinks.

It looks as if he's put a couple of
King Edwards down there.

(laughs)

How do you like Moscow?

Oh, I loathe it, darling.

I cannot understand
what those Three Sisters are on about.

It gives the play a very sinister slant.

Act II begins, please.

Ah, a drink would help.

Begin Act II, please.

Don't you think you've had enough?

All right.

If you're not at the embassy,
what do you do?

I liaise.

Are you press?

Sort of.

Ahhh!

You're not feeling sick again?

Don't know, uh, think I am, rather

Oh, God!

A lesson I've learned in life
is that when one is sick

it's always in threes.
(3 knocks)

Your call please, Miss Browne.

Yes, here it comes.

(pukes)

Oh, God!
(pukes)

I'll send somebody in.

(banging)

Miss Browne, your call!

I must go.

Oh God!

Do try to feel better.

And go home.

Yes.
(pukes again)

♪ (music) ♪

(door opening)

♪ (music) ♪

(door closing)

♪ (music) ♪

- Oh, I'm terribly...
- I'm a sloppy one. (russian)

Guy.

Guy!

(Hamlet)
...his own petard: and 't shall go hard.

But I will delve
one yard below their mines,

And blow them at the moon:
(whispering)

When in one line two crafts directly meet.
(whispering)

(inaudible) I am delighted, good.

Quiet please, shhh.

This man must set me packing:

I'll lug the guts into the neighbour room.

Mother, good night.

Indeed...

this counsellor

Is now most still, most secret
and most grave,

Where is Charles?

(Hamlet) Who was in life

a foolish prating knave.

Come, sir,

to draw toward an end with you.

You're cutting fine, darling.

Guess who I've just seen
coming down the corridor?

Who?

Guy Burgess.

Who?

Guy Burgess, dear.

The spy.

The missing diplomat.

♪ (music) ♪

Ah, my good lord,
what have I seen tonight!

What, Gertrude? How does Hamlet?

Guy Burgess?

How does Hamlet?

Mad as the sea...

Mad as the seas and wind when both contend
Which is the mightier:

in his lawless fit,
Behind the arras hearing something stir,

Whips out his rapier, cries,
"A rat, a rat!"

And, in his brainish apprehension, kills
The unseen good old man.

(King Claudius) Oh, heavy deed!

It had been so with us had we been there.

His liberty is full of threats to all;

To you yourself, to us, to everyone.

♪ (music) ♪

(applause)

- Why?
- No!

I don't want my mind broadened.

I'd not eat cabbage for breakfast at home.
Why'd I eat it here?

Well, it's good that I like beetroot,

Otherwise I'd be reduced to
skin and bones.

Do not push, Madam.

Mum must be the word, truly.

Why?

Well, we don't want anyone
ringing "The Express."

Give way.

If anyone's going to eat tonight,
knock on my door.

He's got fatter.

You knew him?

Oh, I used to run across him years ago,

the way one does, you know...

You're rather that way, aren't you?

What way?

Left.

Oh. I was. Everyone was in those days.

I like him.

Despite the fact
that he was sick in my basin.

Really?

Bags of charm.

Yes.

But you're right, I wouldn't set
The Express on my worst enemy.

Drink?

I'd love one.

It's gone!

My drink!

My cigarettes!

My soap!

That stinker!

Bags of charm...

(keys clinking)

Thank you.

(footsteps)

Nightcap?

Please!

(door opening)

Hot, hot, hot.

Is your room hotter?

Boiling!

I'm sure it's all part of the cold war...

(footsteps)

(tap running)

No plug.

(paper rustling)

Secret store. Hmm hmm.

(cupboard being closed)

(footsteps... glass clinking)

Oh!

(glasses being placed on the table)

Have you found any bugs?

Come again?

Bugs!

Have you found any bugs?

Bugs? No, mine's very clean.

(glasses clinking)

Oh.

Wonderful rooms!

Every convenience.

All same.

I have but one complaint.

Oh, what is that, pray?

Well, in view of the splendid achievements

of the Union of
Soviet Socialist Republics...

I think, at least, they might want to...
a plug for the base...

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha

What?

It's like playing Private lives
to a Wednesday matinee in Oldham.

Ha ha ha ha...

I'll tell you something else.

Mmm?

You can go off caviar.

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha...

(note being slid under the door)

(creaking of a door being closed)

Who came?

(Russian): I don't understand.

(Russian): Just a moment!

(footsteps)

(Russian): Here you are.

Thank you.

(footsteps receding)

(plug being fixed)

(running water)

♪ (music) ♪

(cups clinking)

♪ (music) ♪

(in Russian...)

I can't do anything, there's no last name.

How did I send you a letter then?

I didn't receive your letter.

So what should I do?

I don't really care.

It's always like this with you.

Please, how do I get there?

(Russian): Vera Ivanovna,
have you got such an address?

(Russian): No, I don't know.
Just a minute, I'll take a look.

Well, somebody must be able
to tell me how to get there.

(Russian):
There is no such address. I don't know.

This is ridiculous.

Haven't you got
a street directory, an A to Z?

(Russian): What are you talking about?
I don't understand anything!

Can I get a taxi?

No taxi.

Do you have trouble?

Oh no.

No.

Taxi!

Ta—

♪ (music) ♪

(Russian): Hot pies!

(Russian): Hot pies, hot pies!

(Russian): Hot pies, hot pies!

(Russian): What kind of pies?

(Russian): Meat pies.

Excuse me, do you know where this is?

(Russian):
I don't know, go to the embassy.

Thank you.

(Russian): Hot pies!

(Russian): Hot pies!

(Russian): Hot pies!

♪ (music) ♪

♪ (upbeat music) ♪

♪ (increase in tempo of music) ♪

I just want to know where the place is.
How do I get there?

I thought that's what embassies were for.

You have to remember,
the gentleman in question was a spy.

In England he'd be languishing in jail.

You'd rather, languishing here actually.
Ha!

(clickety-clack of a typewriter)

Bring a tape measure.

Bring a tape measure?

Mr Burgess has asked me to lunch.

With a tape measure?

Watching his waistline.

Well, you can't stop me
from going to lunch. It's a free country.

Rather, it is.

Have lunch here.

It's Tuesday.

It's Kedgeree, it's delicious!

It's Tuesday Tessa, Kedgeree!

Tessa doesn't think we take her seriously.

Was he a chum of yours?

He popped by my dressing room
last night and threw up in the basin.

It was love at first sight.

First impressions are always best.

You never had any contact with him before?

No.

You didn't meet him
when he was at the Foreign Office?

No.

On the BBC?

No.

What about Maclean?

No!

Odd he should come
into your dressing room!

Ladies aren't exactly his like.

Are they yours?

Of course, if all he wanted
was to be sick, that would figure.

He was coming around
to see one of the actors.

Which one?

You're not being paid
for The Daily Express, are you?

They're very keen to get a hold of him.

I should give up the idea.
Have lunch with us. Come on.

I have no intention of having
lunch with you.

He has asked me to call.

(clickety-clack of a typewriter)

Do you know where this is?

Oh, Tessa does not know, do you, Tessa?

Tessa's such a skinny.

Tessa's ambition is just marking time

until her face is on the front page
of Country Life

after the advertisements

for gateleg tables.

(clickety-clack of a typewriter)

Stalin is dead.

Exchanges are taking place.

You, the Old Vic.

Not overtures, I admit.

But the tuning up,
preparatory to the overtures...

For the first time in 10 years,
we're on speaking terms.

Our friends, the foe,

are just beginning to play ball.

We don't want them
to take that bat home, do we?

Burgess and Maclean,
they're yesterday's breakfast.

We wanted to get them,
the Russians want to forget them.

The thing is,
we do not want any fuss at this point.

No scenes.

This is grown-up stuff.

I am going to lunch.

A quiet little meal.

I am an actress.

All actresses are fools,
it's a well established fact.

Why should there be any fuss?

May I just take the note?

Certainly not. The impudence!

Oh, do stay to lunch,
there'll be jokes.

Yes, Giles knows lots of jokes.

Only we've heard them all.

New people make such a change.

Tessa wants you to stay.
Don't you, Tessa?

I think you're both shits.

I was only teasing! Oh God!

That means that we won't be on speakers
for a week.

Well, thank you for all your help.

Oh, don't bother to show me out.

Enjoy your Kedgeree.

(footsteps)

Show me that address.

Tessa!

Naughty.

Sorry.

(footsteps)

♪ (music) ♪

Oh...

♪ (music) ♪

(Russian): I don't know such an address.
You, lady, should take a taxi.

Thank you.

♪ (music) ♪
(Pravda "Truth", Russian newspaper)

(inaudible conversation in russian)

Excuse me.

♪ (music) ♪

(Russian): I know this place, I know it.

♪ (music) ♪

(Russian): Will you give me your
handkerchief? I'll take you.

♪ (music) ♪

(Russian): This is it.

♪ (music) ♪

♪ From the bank and from the river ♪

♪ He flashed into the crystal mirror, ♪

♪ ‘Tirra lira,’ by the river ♪

♪ Sang Sir Lancelot. ♪

♪ She left the web, she left the loom, ♪

♪ She made three paces
through the room, ♪

♪ She saw the water-lilies bloom, ♪

♪ She saw the helmet and the plume, ♪

♪ She looked down to Camelot. ♪

♪ Out flew the web and floated wide; ♪

♪ The mirror cracked from side to side; ♪

♪ "The curse is come upon me," cried ♪

♪ The Lady of Shalott. ♪

I've tracked halfway across Russia
to get here.

Oh, dear!

I suppose that's my soap.

It is, it is, and very nice too.

Now, do sit down.

What a splendid coat!

There we are.

I've just been tidying up.

Here...

Now...

Have a drink...

You know, quite honestly,
I thought that you'd chuck.

I nearly did.

You steal my soap,

you steal my cigarettes,

you even stole my face powder.

I know, I know. One should have asked.

One is such a coward.

There, hardly any luxuries left..

Quite a pigsty, in fact.

You know I used to live
in German Street.

Tragic, you might think.

Well, not really.

That was a pigsty, too.

You know by their standard,
it's quite palatial...

even commodius...

One is very lucky.

If that's our lunch, it's burning.

Oh! Oh, dear! Oh yeah!

(food bubbling in the pot)

Can one salvage some of it, you think?

No.

Oh!
(tapping)

Ah, all is not lost.

I managed to scrounge two tomatoes...

and quite a talking point...

a grapefruit...

Treats.

(unclear)

(furniture being moved)

(clinking of cutlery)

Garlic?

No, thank you.

I love it!

Now, tell me all the gossip.

Did you see Harold Nicholson?

I've seen him, but I don't know him.

Oh!

Nice man, nice man

What about Cyril Connolly?
He's everywhere.

Well, I haven't run across him either.

Oh!

Somehow, one remembers
everyone knowing everyone else.

Everyone I knew, knew everyone else.

Auden, do you know him?

Pope-Hennessy?

The theater's in a terrible state.

Three plays closed on Shaftesbury avenue
in one week.

Really?

Some ballet on ice is coming here.

The comrades are all agog about it.

I'm rather old-fashioned about ice.

I used to direct in Cambridge, you know.

One thinks back and wonders,
did one miss one's way?

You're not eating your tomato?

Well, I'm not hungry.

Oh, I am. Yum, yum. Mmm.

(clinking of cutlery)

There.

(clinking of cutlery)

Mmm.

Do you see many people here?

Oh, yes. Heaps of chums...

(chomping on the tomato)

Don't know what you're missing
with this tomato.

(chomping)

There's your other half, I suppose...

What? Oh yeah. Hmm.

He is a dab hand of the balalaika.

We play duets.

Maclean?

Maclean?

Oh no.

(laughs)

Maclean is not my friend.
No doubt you'll know.

No, no, no...

No, no, no. He's so unfunny and no jokes.
No jokes at all.

Positively the last person
one would have chosen

had one had the choice.
(laughs)

Yet we are here in this terrible
tandem together, you see.

Debenham and Freebody.
Uh-hmm...

Crosse and Blackwell.
Hm hm hm, mhhhh...

Auden and Isherwood.

Burgess and Maclean.

Do you know Auden?

You asked me. No.

Don't look.

The seeds get inside my plate.

You know, people ask me
if I have any regrets.

(water running)

The one regret I have

is that before I came away

I didn't get myself fitted out with
a good pair of National Health Gnashers.

Admirable as most things are
in the Soviet Socialist Republic,

making of dentures
is still in its infancy.

(plate being reinserted)

Hmm.

You know, there's no one in Moscow at all.

It's rather like staying up at Cambridge
for the long vac.

One makes do with whoever's around...

Me.

Ha ha ha!

No, no, no, no, no.

Besides, I asked you here for a reason.

Did you bring a tape measure?

I want you to measure me
for some suits from my tailor.

I only have one suit,
the one I came away in.

And I've fallen down a lot since then.

I shan't know where to start.

What measurements will he want?

Oh, measure it all, he'll work it out.

He is a nice man.

Won't the people here get you a suit?

What people?

The authorities.

Oh, yes, but have you seen them?

Clothes have never been
the comrades' strong point.

Besides, I don't want to look
like everyone else, right?

Now, I seem to remember

doing this.

Ah...

Hm hm hm.

Hm hm.

Your arms can't have changed.

You know, I never cared a tuppence
about clothes before.

I was kitted out in the traditional
clothes in my class, you know.

Black coat, striped trousers,
pinstripe suit, tweeds for weekends.

Shit order, of course.
Always in shit order.

But charm, now I always had charm.

"Well, you still have charm,"
she said through clenched teeth.

Ha ha ha ha.

Not here, not for them.

For charm one needs words.
I have no words.

And short of my clothes, no class.

To them, I am the Englishman.

"Would you like to go to bed
with the Englishman", I say.

"Not really."

How one got so spoiled during the war,

the joys of the blackout.

London awash with rude soldiery.

(Russian) Long time, no see.

You speak Russian?

I manage.

I ought to learn, simply for the sex.

Boys are quite thin on the ground here.

They can't speak my tongue,
I can't theirs.

So when one does get one it soon palls.

Sex needs language.

Well, at least you found a friend.

I don't know whether I've found one
or whether I've been allotted one.

And I...

I know what I've done to deserve him.

But what has he done to deserve me?

Am I a reward or a punishment?

He plays the balalaika...
I play the piano...

It's fun.

He is an electrician with the ballet.

Of course, he might be a policeman.

If he is a policeman,
he does it jolly well...

Forster lived with a policeman, didn't he?

Do you know him?

I feel I'm somewhat of a disappointment
in the friends department.

Oh, no matter.

You know...

No one will believe me when I go home.

What did you do in Moscow, darling?

Nothing much.

I measured Guy Burgess inside the leg.

Ah ha ha ha...

I shouldn't think one's inside leg
alters much, would you?

One of the immutables.

The knee is such a distance
from the main body,

whereas the groin,
as your honour knows,

is upon the very curtain of the place.

Come again?

Tristram Shandy.

Of course, you wouldn't do that,
would you?

Do what?

Go around telling everybody.

My people here wouldn't like that.

No?

No.

A hat would be nice.

7 and 5/8.

Now, I will write the name of my...

I have it here, and, oh,
and my bootmaker, too.

Yeah, it's a trousseau.

Yeah!

For a shotgun marriage.

Look, how do you know he won't say no?

Hmm?

Your tailor...

It would be vulgar to say no.

(paper being torn)

He won't say no.

I'll see what I can do.

Oh, you're not going yet, are you?

You don't want to go yet, do you?

Well, couldn't we go somewhere?

You could show me the sights.

Uh... Well, I can't go out yet...

I have to wait for a telephone call.

When the telephone call comes,
I am permitted to leave.

Who from?

Oh, you know...

my people.

It's generally around four.

That's another two hours!

Never mind.

I'll play you my Jack Buchanan record.

♪ (music) ♪

♪ Who, stole my heart away ♪

♪ Who, makes me dream all day ♪

♪ Dreams I know can never be true ♪

♪ Seems as though I'll ever be blue ♪

♪ Who, means my happiness ♪

♪ Who, would I answer yes to ♪

♪ Well you ought to guess who ♪

♪ No one, but you ♪

♪ (crescendo) ♪

♪ No one else... ♪
♪ (music tempo rising) ♪

♪ no one else... ♪
♪ (music tempo rising) ♪

♪ else ♪

♪ else but you... ♪

♪ (music tempo rises and ends) ♪

Good, isn't it?

Want to hear it again?

You just have the one?

Just the one.

What's on the other side?

Oh, you don't want to listen
to the other side.

The other side is rubbish.

I never listen to the other side.

♪ (music) ♪

♪ Who, stole my heart away ♪

What do you miss the most?

♪ Who ♪

Well, um...
♪ makes me dream ♪

Apart from the Reform Club,
♪ all day. Dreams I ♪

the streets of London
♪ know ♪

and
♪ can never be true ♪

occasionally the English countryside...

I think the only thing I really miss

is gossip.

The comrades, though splendid
in every other respect,

don't gossip in quite the way we do

or about quite the same subjects.

Now, pardon me for saying so, dear

but the comrades seem to me to be

a sad disappointment in every department.

There's no gossip,

their clothes are terrible,

they can't make false teeth,

what else is there?

The system...

though being English,
you wouldn't be interested in that.

What do people say about me in England?

They don't say much anymore.

I thought you as a bit like Oscar Wilde.

Ha ha.

No, no.

Though he was a performer

(clinking of cutlery)

and I was a performer.

(clinking of cutlery)

Both vain.

But I never pretended.

If I wore a mask,
it was to be exactly what I seemed.

And as for the other, well...

I made no bones about the other.

(clinking of cutlery)

But my analysis of situations,

the precis I had to submit
to the Foreign Office were always Marxist.

Openly so,

impeccably so.
(clinking of cutlery)

But nobody minded.
(clinking of cutlery)

It's only Guy, dear old Guy.
Quite safe.

See, if you do wish
to conform in one thing

you must conform in all the others.
And in all important things I did conform.

(clinking of cutlery)

How can he be a spy?

He goes to my tailor!

The average Englishman, you see,
is not interested in ideas.

Say what you like about political theory,
no one will listen.

You could shove a whole slice

of the Communist manifesto
into the Queen's Speech.

Nobody would turn a hair.

Least of all, I suspect, HMQ.

(stove-top being cleaned)

Am I boring you?

It doesn't matter.

(stove-top being cleaned)

♪ (piano music) ♪

I'll think of 101 things to ask you
when you've gone.

How is Cyril Connolly?

You've asked me that.
I do not know.

So little...

England.

Little music, little art.

Hmm.

Timid,

tasteful,

nice.

Yet one loves it.

Loves it.

You see, I can say I love London
and I can say I love England.

I can't say I love my country.

I don't know what that means.

Do you watch cricket?

No.

Anyway, it's changed.

Cricket?

London.

Why?

I don't want it to change.

Why does anybody want to change it?

They've no business changing it.

The fools!

You should stop them changing it.

Band together.

Listen, dear.

I'm only an actress.

I'm not a bright lady, by your standards.

I've never been
much interested in politics.

But if this is Communism,
I don't like it because it's dull!

The poor things look so tired.

But then, some people think
Australia's dull.

And that's not Communism.

And look at Leeds!

Only it occurs to me

that we have sat here all afternoon

pretending that spying,

which is what you did, my darling,

was just a minor social misdemeanor,

no worse...

And I’m sure
in certain people’s minds much better

than being caught in a public lavatory

the way gentlemen
in my profession constantly are.

That’s just something
we shouldn’t mention

out of politeness.

So that we won't be embarrassed.

Hmm hmm hhh...

That's very English.

We'll pretend that hasn't happened
because we're both sensible people.

Well,

I am not English,

I am not sensible,

I am an Australian.

I can't muster much morality

and outside Shakespeare,
the word "treason" to me means nothing.

Only, you pissed in our soup,

and we drank it.

Well, very well.

It doesn't affect me, darling.

I will order your suit and your hat.

And I will keep it under mine.

Mum, not a word.

But for one reason,

I'm sorry for you.

Now,

in your book,

in your real book,

that probably adds my name to the list
of all the other fools you've conned.

But you are not conning me, darling.

I know.

Pipe isn't fooling pussy.

(Telephone rings)

Excuse me.

I was enjoying that.

(the ringing continues)

You spoiled the lady's big speech.

(Russian): Thank you.

(Russian): Yeah, yeah.

I just want to be told why.

At the time,

I thought it was the right thing to do...

and solitude, I suppose.

Oh, solitude!

If you have a secret,

you're alone.

But you told people.

You told several people.

No point in having a secret,
if you make a secret of it.

Actually, the other thing you might get me
is an old Etonian tie.

This one's on it's last leg.

Ah! Here is Tolya.

(Tolya) Hello, Guy. (Russian)
(Guy) Hello. (Russian)

(Tolya) How's it going? (Russian)

Ah, yes. Now, this is Ms. Browne.

She's an actress from England.

How do you do?

How do you do?

Very good.

If you give him a cigarette, an English
cigarette, he'll be your friend for life.

(Russian) Oh, I see now!

(Russian) Is it the theater?
Hamlet? Ah!

(Russian) Thank you.

(Russian) Oh, it's a marvelous thing!
What a thing!

Oh dear, sorry.

Uh.

Uh.

No.

(Russian)
No, really, I can't.

No, no, please.

(Russian) I can't.
I'm not shameless.

Please.

(Russian) Really?

(Russian) Thank you.

(Russian) Thank you.

He's a real Queen Mary.

You couldn't order him a suit,
could you, too?

He would look so nice.

Anything.

Anything.

Hey Guy, Guy.

(Russian) Come here.

(Russian) Listen, I would like to play
something for her on the balalaika.

(Russian) Do you understand? Okay?

Mmmm.

Uh... uh...

Tolya wants to play you a tune.

Uh, do let him, he'll be so pleased.

♪ (balalaika being tuned) ♪

Gilbert and Sullivan.

♪ (music) ♪

♪ Take a pair of sparkling eyes, ♪

♪ Hidden, ever and anon, ♪

♪ In a merciful eclipse ♪

♪ Do not heed their mild surprise ♪

♪ Having passed the Rubicon. ♪

♪ Take a pair of rosy lips ; ♪

What do you think?
Reward or punishment?

♪ Be particular in this ♪

♪ Take a tender little hand, ♪

♪ Fringed with dainty fingerettes, ♪

♪ Press it, press... ♪

Where are we going?

Church.

Do you like church?

I adore it.

This one, the singing's very good.

The opera singers are in the choir,
warming up for the evening performance.

That's uh, not another friend?

Oh, good God no.

You know, when I first came here,

I was shadowed by
a rather grand policeman.

That was when I was a celebrity.

Nowadays, they just send the trainees...

Ironic, that.

Good afternoon.

(Russian) Good afternoon.

Not strong on irony, the comrades.

Did you know Jack Buchanan?

Yes, I suppose.

We nearly got married.

♪ (music) ♪

It's strange.

Sybil Thorndike loved it.

(footsteps)

♪ (singing at the church) ♪

♪ (chanting) ♪

♪ (chanting fades) ♪

I gave you my old mum's number, didn't I?

Yes.

I...

do like it here.

Don't tell anyone I don't.

And thanks again,

in advance.

♪ (music) ♪

Is that Mrs. Burgess?

My name is Coral Browne.

I've just seen Guy in Moscow.
He asked me to call you.

How is he looking?

Oh, he's looking fine.

I do wish I could see him.

The old scamp.

Well, you should go over again.
I know he'd love to see you.

Don't think I could now.

I've got a stupid hip.

Oh, I'm so sorry.

Well, maybe they'll let him
come back sometime.

He shouldn't have to stand in the corners
the rest of his life.

It is seven years.

People are silly.

(Tailor) Let me see? Now there...

(Tailor) Yes.

(Tailor)
Yes, well, it is fractionally too short.

(Tailor) But I can easily alter that.

(Tailor) They're pretty old today,
little over the years, you know.

(Tailor) Credit!

(Tailor) Good.

(Tailor) Now then,
if you'd like to try this thing...

(Tailor) No problems at all.
And then, now there's this.

(Tailor) We'll repair that once you
return it. Perhaps you would...

(Tailor) I will be with you in a moment!

(Tailor) That's fine, I think.

Ah...ahem

Yes Madam, can I help you?

Good morning.
I'd like to order some suits.

Certainly madam, have a seat.

You've made suits for the gentleman before
but now he lives abroad.

I see.

I took his measurements.

I don't know if they're quite right.

Let me see.

Oh, yes.

Yes, these are more than adequate.

Uh, could we know the gentleman's name?

Burgess.

I seem to remember that we had, uh...

We had two Mr. Burgesses.

(fumbles through the log books)

(Assistant) Yes, I'm sure.

This I take it as Mr.Burguess G.

How is Mr Burgess?

Huh!

Fatter, I see.

He was one of our more colorful customers.

Too little color in our drab lives
these days...

Mr Guy favoured this pattern.

It's a durable fabric. His suits were
meant to take a good deal of punishment.

They've stood him in good stead, I hope.

Oh yes, they have indeed.

I am glad to hear it.

Always getting into such scrapes, Mr Guy.

And your name is?

Browne.

There's no need for discretion here,
madam.

No, truly.

My apologies.

And this is the address?

We put little of ourselves into our suits.

That is our loyalty.

And mum's the word.

Mum is always the word here, madam.

Moscow or Maidenhead,

mum is always the word.

Baldwin...

Brooks...

(mutters names)

Burgess...

(pages turning)

Burgess, Burgess, Burgess,

Burgess.

No.

I'll call back later.

Burgess, Burgess.

5807.

Well, if you care to follow me into the
bowels of the Earth,

we'll see what we can find.

5807...

This is the Mr. Burgess
who got into hot water.

George!

Yes.

5807...

5807...

(clears throat)

(footsteps)

It's a graveyard.

The contrary madam, these are all
very much alive and indeed kicking.

5807...

From time to time,
we do have a little bonfire.

George, 5807.

Ah, excuse me sir.

Oh, it's a very long way from him.

I thought he was done with.

George is quite ruthless.
(sniggers)

Ah, here they are.

GB.

Great Britain.

I wish he'd told me so at the time...

I'd have liked to see the old thing again.

Well, he wanted me
to take you out to lunch.

Oh!

Sent me a check.

Oh!

I'm not sure that I should cash it.

Oh, to Guy!

Have you trouble getting him the stuff?

Oh, no, no, no, no.

Nobody better than I...
Then, why should they?

It's all been sent off.

Only now he's written
asking for some pyjamas.

Hmm?

Look.

(Woman) Goodbye, Mario.

(Mario) Goodbye, madam.

What I really need,

honestly the only thing more, is pyjamas.

Russian ones can't be slept in,
are not in fact made for that purpose.

What I would like is four pairs...

Oh!

Oh...

White or off white and navy blue silk...

quite plain and under those two colors...

and at last my outfit will be complete.

Then I shall look like a real agent,
again.

What?

...then I shall look
like a real gent again.

Oh.

Ha ha ha ha ha.

Well, I think the pyjamas
are going to have to be it.

Otherwise little Dolly drop draws

will shop shop shop
until the cows come home.

Or till the revolution comes.

I'm afraid this gentleman no longer
has an account with us, madam.

His account was closed.

I know, but he wishes to open it again.

I'm afraid that is impossible.

Why?

Well...

We supply pyjamas to the royal family.

So?

The gentleman is a traitor, Madam.

So?

Must traitors sleep in the buff?

I'm sorry.

We have to draw the line somewhere.

Well, why at this?

Suppose someone commits
adultery in your precious pyjamas?

And I imagine it has occurred?

What happens when he orders
his next pair of jim-jams?

Is it sorry, no can do?

I'm very sorry.

You keep on saying you're sorry!

Oh, Jesus Christ!

You were quite happy to satisfy this man

when he was one of the most
notorious buggers in London!

And a drunkard into the bargain.

Oh, yes. But then he was somebody
in the Foreign Office.

A little red piping on the sleeve,
Mr Burguess? Of course.

A discreet monogram on the pocket,
Mr Burguess?

Oh, yes, certainly.

And if there's anything else
you require Mr Burgess...

We'd be only too happy to ease down
your pinstripe trousers and perform!

(clears throat)

But not anymore.

Look madam, I don't know
why you're doing this for him.

As far as we're concerned, Mr Burgess
is a client we have well resolved.

Ours is a highly respectable firm..

Oh, highly respectable!

It’s pricks like you that
make me understand why he went!

Thank Christ, I'm not English!

As a matter of fact madam,

our firm isn't English in origin, either.

Oh?

What is it?

Hungarian.

I see.

Well...

You can't object
if I buy an old Etonian tie...

For cash, naturally.

For the Archbishop of Canterbury's
mother.

(humming)

♪ That he is an Englishman! ♪

♪ That he is an Englishman! ♪

♪ For he might have been a Roosian, ♪

♪ A French, or Turk, or Proosian, ♪

♪ Or perhaps Itali-an! ♪

♪ Or perhaps Itali-an! ♪

♪ But in spite of all temptations ♪

♪ To belong to other nations, ♪

♪ He remains an Englishman! ♪

♪ He remains an Englishman! ♪

♪ For in spite of all temptations ♪

♪ to belong to other nations, ♪

♪ He remains an Englishman! ♪

♪ He remains an Englishman! ♪

♪ For he himself has said it, ♪

♪ And it's greatly to his credit, ♪

♪ That he is an Englishman! ♪

♪ That he is an Englishman! ♪

(cheering)