Nanny McPhee (2005) Movie Script

We must begin our story, sad to say,
with an empty chair.
If it were not empty,
we would not have a story.
But it is, and we do, and
it is time to tell it.
This is the story of my family,
of my seven children,
who are all very clever
but all very, very, very naughty.
This is Nanny Whetstone,
the 17th nanny I had hired
to look after my children.
She was the strictest, the toughest
and the most fearless
nanny in all the land.
As I went to work that day
at the funeral parlour,
I was confident in the knowledge...
that there was nothing,
absolutely nothing
that my children could do to upset her.
They've eaten the baby!
Except that.
- Quick! He's coming!
- Hide!
- Quiet!
- Stop it!
Children, where's Aggy?
Look at you.
You're all cabbagey.
Oh...and you're all gravy-y.
As was your intention, Nanny Whetstone
has resigned from her post.
I shall go to the agency this afternoon
and hire a new nanny.
You will not drive her away
as you have done with her predecessors.
Can't catch me out.
That showed 'em who's boss.
Three days, eight hours and 47 minutes.
So that got rid of her...
quicker than the last one.
I think the turning point was definitely
eating the baby. Well done, Eric.
Mr Brown, are you all right?
I'm perfectly all right.
Evangeline, could you let Cook know
that the new nanny has had to leave
and I'm off to the agency
to find a new one?
Good. I'll just...
- Mrs Partridge?
- We're closed.
- There's been a tiny hiccup.
- We're not here.
- Please, let me in...
- Go away.
Listen, they didn't eat the baby.
It was a chicken, actually.
There's no more nannies!
You've had your lot.
The person you need is Nanny McPhee.
Is that you, Mrs Partridge?
The person you need is Nanny McPhee.
I need her to start right away.
I'm late for a vital tea dance.
Nanny McPhee is not on our books.
Nanny McPhee is not on anyone's books.
Nanny Whetstone's gone.
There's a surprise.
Hurry it up there. Spuds.
Mr Brown's gone to the agency.
I said the children'll be fine with us.
They won't be fine with me.
I won't have them dirty blighters
in my kitchen, and that is that!
I have it in writing. In writing!
- Well, that's the final straw.
- Pa!
There are no more nannies.
None. All over, finished.
I've had to cancel my appointment
and that will cause trouble.
- I told them not to. It wasn't my idea.
- Don't look at me! It's not my fault.
Well, you seem intent
on distressing me...
Er...don't do that, darling, please.
That's my sore bit.
You seem intent on distressing me,
so I'm going to distress you.
You are go to bed immediately.
Before supper?
Without supper.
Did he say without supper?
Never mind that.
There's no more nannies.
Poor him...and poor them.
Poor them, my Aunt Fanny.
They're the worstest,
nastiest, horriblest...
It'll be snow in August
before this family's straightened out.
"Dear Nanny Whetstone,
I'm so very sorry."
"My children..."
Eric, give it back to her!
Give it back now! Stop it!
My children.
Eric! Eric, that's my teddy!
- Eric, stop doing this!
- Give it back!
- Stop fighting!
- Oi, you lot!
You're driving your poor father
to distraction. Stop it.
Lily, what's this word?
Lovingly."He took her
lovingly by the hand."
What's your book about, Evangeline?
It's about the daughter of a nice man
who remarries after his wife dies
and the stepmother's horrid to her.
Why doesn't the man
stop her being horrid?
Fathers all turn bad
once their wives die.
They don't care any more.
Simon. Yours does.
No, he doesn't.
Does he read to Chrissie
or play cricket with us like he used to?
He doesn't even sing Loola-bye to Aggy.
We hardly see him.
He loves you, Simon. You know that.
He's just had a lot on his mind since...
Since Mother died.
You used to be as close as anything.
Not any more. All he cares about now
is getting himself a nice new wife.
Well... I don't know
if that's true or not,
but it might be nice
to have a new mother.
Don't you know anything about the world?
Whoever he marries will be vile
and treat us like slaves.
- You don't know that.
- Plenty of hard evidence for it.
There isn't one stepmother in there
who's even halfway decent.
They're an evil breed. Anyway,
who ever likes other people's children?
I like you.
Yes, but you're a servant.
You're paid to like us.
That doesn't count.
I've got my work to be getting on with.
I really am hungry, Evangeline.
Could you maybe bring me
some secret toast and jam?
All right, forget the jam.
Just some secret toast.
Shall I plump the cushion
on Mrs Brown's chair?
I know you like to plump it yourself
Oh, no, that's...that's all right.
You plump away, Evangeline. Thank you.
I was wondering if I might make
Master Sebastian a piece of toast.
Yes, I should think..., under no circumstances. No.
I could do it secret-like.
No, they'll hear him chewing
and then we're done for.
No, they get nothing.
Righto, Mr Brown.
The person you need is Nanny McPhee.
Nanny McPhee.
No supper.
Discipline. That's more like it.
Now, you listen here,
you pustular tykes.
You ain't allowed in this kitchen,
not now, not ever.
I have it in writing.
Well, dear, the agency
has closed its doors.
What am I to do? Aunt Adelaide says...
Your children are out
of control, Cedric.
And there was that thing she said...
about their needing a
female influence. I...
You know what she's like.
She'll stop the allowance
unless I marry again and give them
a new mother within the month.
A month. I mean, it's unbearable.
But l... I had to... I had to promise.
Remember we talked about
what would happen without her money.
The bank will take the house.
There'll be debtors' prison for me,
workhouse for the older children.
Goodness only knows
what'll happen to little Chrissie.
And as for Aggy...
it's unimaginable.
Where are you? You mewling half-bakes!
I'm ready for you. And I'm hard!
This is fun!
We got Cook!
The person you need is Nanny McPhee.
Eric, you're not making another bomb,
are you?
- Oh!
- Jump!
- They're in the kitchen.
- No! No! You took them down for toast!
I never did!
You sent them to bed with no dinner.
- That's what done it!
- Don't tell...
- I'll, er...
- Why don't you...?
- I'll go.
- No, I'd better...
- Well, no, I can...
- You, erm... I'll...
- I'll be off, then.
- Yes, you... I'll just...
Good evening, Mr Brown.
I am Nanny McPhee.
Oh, you're... Er...of course.
Good heavens. I suppose the agency...
I do not belong to any agency, Mr Brown.
I am a government nanny.
A government nanny? How...
.. unusual.
May I come in?
Yes, by all means, come in.
I understand you have
extremely ill-behaved children.
No. No, no. No.
No... Good grief, what a suggestion.
- Playful.
- Shut up!
What are your main concerns?
Mm. Do they go to bed when they're told?
Well, no, not, er... No.
- Do they get up when they're told?
- Er...well, no, not exactly.
- Get dressed when they're told?
- Now, that's a good question.
- Do they say "please" and "thank you"?
- In what context?
That will do to be going on with.
Your children need me.
I'll go and make sure everything's
in order before I introduce you.
I shall introduce myself.
Please, Mr Brown,
go back to your newspaper.
Oh, look.
The door's open and
there's nobody there.
I am here.
I am Nanny McPhee.
Oh, did...did somebody speak?
- I didn't hear anything.
- That's because nobody's there.
Then listen carefully
and try to hear this.
Stop what you are doing,
put the kitchen to rights
and go upstairs to bed.
- Did you hear what I said?
- I've just had an idea.
Why don't we play here
in the kitchen all night long?
Let's, let's!
- Excellent notion.
- Tomatoes!
Jump! Jump, jump! Jump!
Jump, jump, jump, jump!
Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump!
Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump!
Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump! Jump...jump...
Government nanny?
What's she done?
- She's done something to us!
- They went in the pot!
I can't stop!
She banged her stick!
I'm going to be sick!
- It must be magic!
- What's happening?
- Please, Simon, let's stop!
- We've got to stop!
- Let's stop!
- Let's stop!
- Well, stop if you want, then!
- We can't!
It's her fault!
It started when she banged the stick!
- I can't stop!
- Slow down!
Come on, whoever you are!
Let's stop this and go to bed!
- Say "please".
- I never say "please".
Very well.
- Please!
- Please!
- Don't touch Aggy!
- Wait!
Say it!
Actually, Simon, would you,
because this baby's gonna blow!
- And Aggy's gonna go in the stockpot!
- Put her back, Chrissie!
Oh, for goodness' sake! Please, then!
Take Aggy off me!
Please, Nanny McPhee.
Chrissie, don't!
- Say it!
- Take Aggy out!
- No, Lily!
- Say it!
I can't stop myself!
Please, Nanny McPhee.
I'm going to jump!
Too late!
Up to bed, please.
Goodnight, Mrs Blatherwick.
Goodnight, Evangeline.
Goodnight, Nanny McPhee.
When Mr Brown said no dinner,
I thought they'd be down in a trice.
They've been ever so quiet.
Don't you fret.
They don't dare come in this kitchen.
I have it in writing.
Be careful, Aggy.
It's Mama's rattle,
and it's the only thing
we've got of hers.
- What on earth are you doing?
- Getting ready for bed.
- What she told us to do.
- Since when did we do what we're told?
Since we nearly got Cook blown up
and Aggy boiled.
May I just remind you of something?
We got rid of the last 1 7 nannies.
We're getting rid of this one too.
Fine! Be brave, then!
Yes, well, I nearly got blown up!
And anyway, l...
You must feel at such a disadvantage,
Nanny McPhee.
In what way?
We know your name
but you don't know ours.
Pleased to meet you.
I'm Oglington Fartworthy.
How do you do?
That's F-A-R-T.
Booger McHorsefanny.
Knickers O'Muffin.
I'm Bum!
Oh. Bosoms.
You can't be Bum, Aggy.
Sebastian's Bum. You're Poop.
Poop Bum.
You can't be Poop and Bum.
Goodnight, Agatha.
Goodnight, Sebastian.
Goodnight, Tora.
Goodnight, Christianna.
Goodnight, Lily.
Goodnight, Eric.
Goodnight, Simon.
There is something you should understand
about the way I work.
When you need me but do not want me,
then I must stay.
When you want me but no longer need me,
then I have to go.
It's rather sad,
really, but there it is.
We will never want you.
Then I will never go.
Goodnight, children.
How did she know our names?
No one ever knows our names.
- Magic.
- Witchcraft.
It doesn't matter.
We're getting rid of her tomorrow.
What? Wha... What? What?
I did knock.
Of course. You weren't just
creeping up on me. What a suggestion.
The children are
all in bed and asleep.
Good. Really?
- Good grief.
- I shall see myself to my room.
Goodnight, Mr Brown.
No, wait.
What do you... I mean, how...
What are your terms?
Your children require five lessons.
Lesson one, to go to bed
when they're told, is complete.
As for my terms,
I take Sunday afternoons off.
Time to get up.
Hm. I shall give you
half an hour to be up,
washed, dressed, teeth
cleaned, beds made
and out into the garden...
for healthful fresh
air before breakfast.
Lessons start at
I don't know about you lot,
but I want to stay in bed.
Sebastian, run the thermometer
under the hot tap.
Chrissie, chalk. Eric,
crayons. Lily, pepper.
How do you know
she won't do something horrid to us?
I worked it out.
She's a trained hypnotist.
That's how she made us do those things.
Don't look directly at her
and she can't hypnotise us.
- Morning, Mr Brown.
- Morning.
I'm off to work early.
We're busy at the mortuary.
Some bout of influenza at Archway...
is carrying off all the
old folks... Ah-ah-ah!
Still, what's bad for them
is good for us.
Poor things.
Well, I know. That, too. Of course.
Odd. She normally says,
"Have a nice day,"
or "Don't forget your
jacket" if it's cold out.
Very odd. Most peculiar.
- I did knock.
- Did you? I didn't hear.
I was talking to...
Never mind.
I believe the children
will be staying in bed today.
The children? What, all day?
Are they ill? What's wrong?
Nothing. I know precisely what to do.
Please leave it to me.
You managed them splendidly last night.
If they are under the weather,
give them what they want,
ice-cream and jelly and suchlike.
My late wife was very particular.
If ever they were ill,
she used to wait on
them hand and foot...
even if they weren't ill at all.
I shall be sure to give them
exactly what they need.
Excellent. Excellent.
Well, I'll just be off to work, then.
She's coming!
Remember, everyone,
don't look in her eyes.
Dear me.
We can't get up. We're ill.
Colds in our doses.
And kemperakurk.
We think it bight be the beasles.
Got measig.
Good heavens.
Then there is of course
no question of your getting up.
I'm very sorry to have to tell you all
that you'll have to stay in bed.
- Ah.
- I don't feel well.
- I think I've got a temperature.
- Don't be daft.
Simon, I can't get up.
- You must have looked at her, then.
- I did not look.
I was under the covers the whole time,
Simon. I can't get up either.
- I can't get up!
- I'm stuck like glue!
I'm stuck, too!
Hypnosis, eh? Bang goes that theory.
Good morning.
Morning, Mr B!
Good morning, Mr Jowls, Mr Wheen.
- Thought we'd get you that time.
- No, not this time.
- Nice tea dance, Mr B?
- Ooh, lovely, I shouldn't wonder.
No. I didn't even get there. Disaster.
Children, you know.
- We do know.
- We've said it before.
It's not funerals
you should be in the business of.
It's christenings.
Good morning.
Just excuse me a moment, would you?
let me not beat about the bush.
Your children are out of control.
You need a wife
and your children need a mother.
If you do not remarry by
the end of the month,
steps will have to be taken.
Oh, dear. Oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear.
What's your wife like?
Never mind. Less than a month to go.
There's nothing for it.
It'll have to be that woman...
the dreadful one.
Mr Jowls, do you recollect
that...enthusiastic lady?
Mrs Swiftly, was it? Or was it
Mrs Thadius something last year?
- Mrs Thadius Quickly?
- Oh, don't.
"Oh, Mr Brown, you are a saint. You have
a lovely look of kindness about you."
What I wouldn't give for a man like you,
Mr Brown, in my hour of need.
- That one?
- Yes, that one.
We buried Mr Quickly last autumn.
Poor devil.
- He was happy to go.
- He was her third.
You don't happen to know
if... if she ever...ever, erm...
remarried? You know, number four?
Mr Brown, you're not
thinking what I think...
you're thinking, are you, Mr Brown?
Good grief, no! No, no. No. No.
No. No, no... no. What
a thought. No. No.
What's that?
Measle medicine,
to be administered once an hour.
Actually, I'm not sure it is measles.
How can it be anything other?
The chalky-white faces, the livid spots,
the temperatures of 1 20 degrees.
I've seen it time and again. Measles.
- Open.
- Simon, don't!
I'm not taking that.
Then you will not get any better.
Believe me.
It's moving!
Open wide.
Simon, spit it out!
You'll have to swallow
it sooner or later,
so I suggest you get it over with.
Very good. Who's next?
"He took her lovingly..."
"He took her lovingly
by the...the hand."
Oh! Nanny McPhee, you startled me.
It was that quiet.
I just got to practising my sounds.
Lily's teaching me to read.
That is good.
They're all good... underneath it all.
- A favourite of yours?
- Don't know.
I haven't finished it yet.
The stepmother's a
bit of a horror, though.
Oh, indeed.
It's a pity stories
aren't about real people.
This one seems a farm girl,
but I'll bet a pound to a penny
he finds out she's
really an educated lady.
And then he falls for her.
You must read it and find out.
He wouldn't love her
if she couldn't read.
He'd think her stupid
and worthless and beneath him.
Buttered spuds for lunch
with boiled beef, apple pie and custard.
I think the children will be requiring
something a little more...
austere today.
'Orse what?
The children are not quite themselves,
Mrs Blatherwick.
God! That means jellies and ice-cream,
raspberry cordial and
God knows what else.
Well, I'd better get cracking, then.
Where is that lump?
It'll be snow in August...
before that one's there
when you need her.
Calm yourself, Mrs Blatherwick.
I'm in charge today.
I understand that you were once
in the armed forces.
I was that. Cooked at a training camp
in Gloucestershire.
Kept those boys strong, I did.
I'm sure you did. Perhaps a broth
of some sort for the children.
You must be an expert.
Best thin potato gruel with peelings in?
That always got 'em groaning
but kept 'em strong.
Are you well supplied with peelings?
These'll do. Only a day old.
A bit of gristle for
flavour. Ever so tasty.
Get that down you.
There's a lot of goodness
in a turkey neck.
That'll put the hairs
back on your chest.
Smell that.
That is the smell that
forged this empire.
That pong is the pong of conquerors.
All right, men. As you were.
They actually are starving us.
I wonder how long it will
take for us all to die.
Quickly, Quickly, Quickly...
Mrs Selma Quickly.
Have you lazy lot been in bed all day?
You've been doing measles, haven't you?
The situation's very simple, Evangeline.
The nanny, who in my opinion is a witch,
made us ill and fed
us boiled-down toads.
Nanny McPhee is not a witch, Eric.
You're very naughty to say so.
I'm sure she knew what she was doing.
- She must be fully trained.
- Yes, but as what?
I'm unbelievably hungry, Evangeline.
Can you please get us
something decent to eat?
Did you just say "please"?
Please, please, Evangeline!
Well, children,
I hear you've been in bed all day
but that you're better now.
It wasn't our fault.
I'm sure it wasn't anybody's fault.
You can't help it if you're ill.
But you're better now.
- Papa?
- Yes, Chrissie?
Now that we're better, can we get up?
Can we get up, please?
Of course you can.
Read to us.
I, erm... I have my
letter-writing to do. I...
I'll read to you tomorrow.
Goodnight, my dears.
please ask Cook to make the children
scrambled eggs on toast.
I'm sure they'd like supper
now they're feeling better.
I'll do it myself, Nanny McPhee.
Didn't she have two bumpy things?
The word is "wart".
Traditionally associated with witches,
as it happens.
Well, one of 'em's gone.
I did knock.
Of course you did.
Lesson two, to get up when they're told,
is complete.
Of course. Very good. Thank you.
Goodnight, Mr Brown.
- Nanny McPhee...
- Yes, Mr Brown?
Didn't you used to have two...
Never mind. It's, er...
it's my imagination.
There was a telegram, Mr Brown.
Oh, my... Oh, my goodness.
- Ah, Nanny McPhee.
- Pa!
Good, good, good.
All right, I have an announcement.
Your Great-Aunt Adelaide
is coming for tea today.
- No!
- Aunt Adelaide is vile and vicious.
She's blind as a bat.
And we are convalescing,
for heaven's sake!
That's enough. I don't want to hear...
anything bad about her.
She pays the rent.
- She scares me.
- She's only coming for tea.
You'll all put your best clothes on
and Nanny McPhee will keep you in order.
I shall do my best, sir,
considering that today is Sunday
and I am off duty this afternoon.
Off duty?
You're off duty when...?
You can't be off duty.
I need you. They need you.
I shall be leaving at noon.
Thereafter, I'm sure
the children will do...
exactly as they're told.
Won't you, children?
Listen to this, dear.
Aunt Adelaide says,
"l am coming with the express intention
of easing your financial burden."
Maybe she's thought the better
of my having to remarry.
Perhaps I won't have
to go through with it.
I hate my best clothes.
They're itchy.
Well, we promised, so that's that.
Tora's right.
We should do exactly as we're told.
We've been told to put
our best clothes on, haven't we? Right.
Well, I'm going to put
my best clothes on...the pig.
Simon, no.
- Yeah, the pig!
- Oh, please, don't!
- Aunt Adelaide, welcome back.
- Where are you?
- Here I am, Aunt Adelaide.
- Oh! Don't crowd me so.
You're looking very peely-wally.
Where's my tea? I must have tea.
Of course. This way. At once.
I smell damp.
No, no... At least not noticeably.
Damp in the house.
Hence your pallid complexion.
Lovely hat.
A gift from the Duchess of Kent.
She has taste.
I've always hated this room.
- Milk?
- Certainly not.
Filthy stuff. Most unhealthy.
- Sugar?
- Six, if you please.
Let me not beat about the bush, Cedric.
You have too many children.
- Ah, that.
- Don't interrupt.
Your wife, my poor, weak-minded niece,
had no sense of proportion.
However, I know where my duties lie.
I gave her my word that I would help.
As you know, Cedric, my word is my law.
I now propose to help you further.
Oh, thank you, Aunt
Adelaide. Thank you.
Don't interrupt. Sit down.
This is my proposal.
I shall relieve you of
one of your children...
and give it a home with
me at Stitch Manor.
It will require sacrifice on my part.
I realise that.
But as my sainted father always said,
"Duty, Adelaide, always duty."
- You mustn't. I can't possibly...
- Thank me enough. I know.
You must feel quite overwhelmed
by the benefits of such a plan.
Your fortunate daughter,
for it must be a girl
and not one of those other things,
will receive private tuition
in literature, history, deportment
and above all, elocution.
If there's one thing I won't stand for,
it's loose vowels.
What did Papa say? He must have
told her not to even think of it.
He didn't say anything.
Come on. Let's find the others.
I must be frank.
There is no question of your taking...
Hush now! I'm used to
taking responsibility...
for other people's mistakes.
Now, where is the bulk
of your offspring?
Ah. Here we are.
- It was a bee. A big bee. Erm...
- Good heavens!
Gone now. Phew.
- Hm.
- You're not well, Cedric.
The sooner you find a
good wife, the better.
This'll put her off
wanting any of you girls.
Speak up, girl!
Oh! What an unfortunate face.
All those bristles.
It might be very hard
to get her decently betrothed.
Do you not have a more comely girl?
Perhaps round the front of the house.
Chrissie, hurry up!
Tie it, Chrissie.
Eric, stop her!
- Chrissie, stop! She'll see you!
- Papa!
Cedric, I had no idea
that you had produced such a...
such an unattractive batch of females.
I shall leave directly. Get my hat.
Your hat? So soon?
- Really? No, you can't... I'll get it.
- Hewitt!
Oh, yes. You'll do perfectly.
A little timid, perhaps,
but we'll soon knock that out of you.
Come on, come on. It
can't do any harm to try.
I can't find your... What are you doing?
- This is the chosen one. Get her ready.
- Papa, help!
Chrissie? You're not listen...
Shut up, Cedric, and do as you're told!
Nanny McPhee, we need you.
Nanny McPhee, please, we need you.
Where is my hat?
My hat!
How dare you!
- Oh, my, what a merry game.
- Yoo-hoo!
My, my, what a pretty girl you are.
Oh, this is the girl for me.
Such poise, such gaiety.
- Ah, there you are, staff.
- Yes, madam.
I'm taking this child
with me. Get her ready.
Very well, madam.
Sherry time.
Do not forget that someone
has to go with your great-aunt
and it cannot be the donkey, can it?
Well, I'm the eldest girl. I'll go.
No. I've always known
I was destined for tragedy. I'll go.
Aggy go.
Don't be silly, Aggy.
You're not even a whole girl yet.
No. She wanted me. I'll go.
You can't all go.
Well, I am entirely satisfied.
I will keep my word, Cedric,
if you will keep yours.
You must give those children a mother
before the month is out.
You cannot order me around. And you
certainly can't take any of my children.
Your carriage awaits, madam.
Is the chosen one seated?
- lndeed she is.
- Good.
- All is prepared.
- Which chosen one? What's prepared?
Cedric, in view of this afternoon's
happy outcome,
I am willing to overlook
that last unattractive outburst.
- Nanny McPhee.
- Off we go, Hewitt.
- What have you done?
- I have done nothing, sir.
The children have decided
amongst themselves.
Decided what? What do you mean?
There you are, dear.
Not little Chrissie.
Now, then, you'd better
tell me your name, little girl.
Don't be shy, my dear.
What is your name?
Sit up straight and tell me your name.
- Christianna!
- Papa!
Papa! Papa!
Then...then who...?
Evangeline. My name's Evangeline.
And what a pretty name it is, too.
Time for bed.
- Thank you for saving me, Nanny McPhee.
- Hm.
Yes. Thank you.
Thank you.
- Thank you.
- Thank you.
Papa was going to let her take me.
No, Christianna.
Your father would never have allowed it.
- Goodnight, children.
- Goodnight, Nanny McPhee.
She hasn't got any warts at all now.
Do you think she's using
some sort of cream?
Thank you, Nanny McPhee.
You were a tremendous help.
Not at all.
You will find that lesson three,
to get dressed when they're told,
is complete.
Just to get dressed when they're told?
They've learned a great
deal more than that.
I have five lessons to teach.
What lessons they learn is entirely
up to them. Goodnight, Mr Brown.
- Nanny McPhee...
- Yes, Mr Brown?
She will be all right, won't she?
Evangeline, I mean.
I can't help being concerned.
Aunt Adelaide can be so, erm...
Well, you saw.
She will certainly be all right.
I suppose she volunteered
to go, did she?
Couldn't wait to be
shot of us, I imagine.
Not quite.
It was Simon's idea.
He knew Evangeline
might like to educate herself
and that her going
would save Christianna.
He's a very clever boy.
Good heavens. Simon, eh?
Well, good for him.
Quick...quick thinking.
Goodnight, Mr Brown.
So that's it, then.
I shall have to marry...Quickly.
Children, your father
has asked me to tell you
there's a Mrs Quickly
coming for tea tomorrow.
- Nanny McPhee?
- Yes, sweetheart?
Can you stop Papa
from marrying a horrible stepmother?
I'm afraid not.
- Even if you wanted to?
- Even if I wanted to.
I cannot interfere with
affairs of the heart.
Perhaps Simon could
talk to him about it.
He won't listen.
You have a visitor, Mr Brown.
An especially eager visitor, Mr Brown.
Quickly by name...
Simon, my boy.
Well, come in.
Come on, I won't bite.
- Father, we want to ask you something.
- Well, of course.
Of course. Anything at all. Ask away.
Who is Mrs Quickly?
Good heavens, such a face. She's, er...
She's...she's a friend.
She's...a friend.
Just a friend?
Well, my boy,
it's not exactly any of
your business, is it?
It is if she's to be our new mother.
Who said anything about that?
It is true? You are going to marry her?
You go too far, Simon.
- You must not question...
- I didn't.
- Don't contradict me!
- I'm not!
You do not understand the adult world.
You know, there are
certain things that...
certain things...
You will leave me this instant. Go home!
You never listen!
Nanny McPhee?
Nanny McPhee?
Hello, Simon.
Can I help you?
I did knock.
I know. I heard you.
May I be of assistance?
We need you to, erm...
I saved Chrissie.
And so...
You're on our side, is what I mean.
Aren't you?
You saved Chrissie, and
I do not take sides.
I...we... need you to help us
get rid of this woman, Mrs Quickly.
It will not surprise you to hear
that I cannot agree to that, Simon.
Then let us do whatever
we have to do to get rid of her.
Are you prepared to accept
the consequences?
- You promise?
- Yes. Yes, absolutely, I promise.
Then I will, as you put it,
let you do whatever you have to do.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Look at them! Will
you just look at them?
The little, small things.
Children, this is, er... Mrs Quickly.
Oh, you mustn't be so formal.
You must call me Auntie Selma.
Oh, dear me, one does work up
such a thirst in this heat.
Oh. Tea, of course. Do
go through. I'll...
And leave these dear creatures?
How can you ask it of me?
- Oh, the heart of the house.
- Yes, yes.
- The old bachelor's den.
- Mm.
- Well, l...
- lsn't it enchanting?
Ooh! Have you read all those books?
- Well, l, er...
- Clever.
- Take my chair. It's more comfortable.
- Thank you. Ooh!
Well, what have we here?
I see there is already
provision for a lady.
How thoughtful you are.
What a gentleman.
Wait! Er...just let me
make it, er...comfy for you.
Too, too precious.
Here in the centre of the male dominion, oasis of feminine
charm and elegance.
There, just as I thought. It's dusty.
It just needs a good old thump.
There. All thumped and ready to go.
There you go again.
Nothing is too much trouble for you.
I observed that very characteristic
on the sad day we buried Mr Quickly.
Even in my demented grief,
I said to my friend Letitia Carter...
Remember her? A pinker complexion
than my own. She takes too much sun.
I said, "Kindness seems to be
second nature to him."
"He is a perfect gentleman."
"There's something so masculine
and yet retiring in his manner..."
Mr Brown!
Un moment, I pray you.
I don't know what came over me.
I do. I understand. I
never took you for such.
But now I see it.
Passion is clearly your nature, too.
I feel it. Who would have thought
we were such kindred spirits?
Passion is my life.
In fact, Mr Brown, what
is life without it?
A grey wheel of habit, spinning idly on.
This is no time for
food, Mrs Quickly...
I couldn't possibly swallow it
under the circumstances.
You are tempestuous, Mr Brown.
- Tea?
- Yes, tea.
We must blanket the raw impulse
with that reliable beverage.
That's a nice bit of
porcelain. Is that Spode?
I like a bit of Spode. Tasteful.
Anyway, so essential
for upholding the normal...
- You don't want that.
- How right you are.
You see into my inmost self.
What is tea when we can drink
from the nectar of our emotions?
Let the common herd drink tea.
Our souls need a more divine libation!
Oh! You mad fool! I say.
No, no, not here amongst the cutlery.
I say!
I must go before my reputation
is in tatters on this rug.
Lovely rug. Is it Chinese silk?
Must escape before all is lost.
Heavens to Betsy! You are inflamed!
How does a lonely widow best you?
What defences does she have?
All it takes is one question, Cedric,
and I'm yours.
- Ask me or you'll lose me forever.
- Oh, no... Absolutely.
Say it. Say it.
- Say it. Say it.
- No!
Oh! No! This is too much, sir!
You are a cad!
A bounder and a cad!
Papa's coming.
She's gone.
The only person in the whole world
who stands between all of us
and total ruin...
and she's gone.
What's ruin?
There's no time to mince words.
I can't support my own family.
I never have been able to.
There are so many of you.
But you're all so delicious.
When Aggy came along
and your mother was so ill, I said,
"We may have to stop now, dear,"
and she said...
She said, "l know."
The fact of the matter is,
your Great-Aunt Adelaide
has been supporting us for years
with a monthly allowance.
A little while ago, she told me
that I had to remarry
or the allowance would stop.
This woman today was my last chance.
Our last chance.
When the money stops,
the house will be taken.
Some of you will perhaps
be put into the workhouse.
Some will be put into the care...
into the care of others.
I don't know how many of you
will be allowed to stay together.
I'm sorry to have failed you, children.
You deserve so much better.
- Do something.
- What would you suggest?
Change what happened.
Bang your stick. Make it undo itself.
I cannot. These were your actions.
Simon promised that you would
accept the consequences.
What shall we do?
Help us. Tell us what to do.
- You must undo it for yourselves.
- How? How?
You are very clever, children.
So, 'e was keen?
Oh, Letty, he was in
a maddened condition.
He couldn't keep his hands off me.
But I held firm.
I said, "Shedric..." I mean, "Cedric,
I have my reputation to uphold."
"It's marriage or nothing.
What do you take me for?"
"Some common...?"
- Tart?
- Not for me. I'm bloated.
No."Some common tart." You said...
Who's that knocking?
It might be him.
If you've come to fumble
with my fastenings... Oh.
Mrs Quickly, we're very
sorry about the tea...
you had with our father.
Typical of a man, sending
his little ones...
to do the dirty work.
No. He doesn't know we're...
I mean, he very much wants to marry you.
I know what he wanted.
No wonder there's so many of you!
Wait. Father wasn't being rude.
No one on earth could be less rude.
He was protecting you from
the naughty things we were doing.
- The toad in the teapot.
- And the wormy sandwiches.
That was my idea! I mean, my fault.
I have no idea to what
you can be referring.
Don't try to make excuses for him.
He's a flounder and a gad.
He's not. He's a good man.
He was just trying to save us.
If he doesn't marry,
all the money will go.
We'll be thrown out onto the streets.
- Money? What money?
- Our Great-Aunt Adelaide's money.
Lady Adelaide Stitch.
Lady? Ooh!
- Mr Brown.
- Mrs Quickly.
- Your children have explained it all.
- Explained?
That their tricks during
tea was a result...
of their motherless condition,
that they need a woman's presence
to calm them,
and that you could benefit
from that presence,
pathetic and lonely as you are.
And all it takes is one
little question, Cedric.
Oh. Oh, y... er...yes, of course.
Erm...just give me...Yes.
- Mrs Quickly...
- Selma.
Yes, I mean Selma.
Would you do me the honour
of becoming my...
- ..of becoming my...
- Wife.
- Exactly. Wife. That's the word.
- Yes. Oh, yes, Cedric.
Off you go now, dears.
Let Daddy have a little
moment to himself...
with your new mummy.
A bit big for this nightie, aren't...
you, sweetheart? We'll
have a new one made.
I'm sorry.
I should have told you.
I can see that now.
If I'd discussed it with you before,
we wouldn't be in this mess.
No, it was our fault.
We should have known you had
a good reason for getting married.
At least this way,
we'll all be together.
That's what matters most, isn't it? Hm?
I promise I'll never hide anything
that affects us from you again.
I see you're more than capable
of understanding it.
- Papa?
- Yes, my boy?
Do you think Mama still thinks about us
where she is?
I'm sure she does.
I know she does.
Now, Chrissie,
why don't you choose us a story?
# Tiptoe by
- # Where my babies lie...
- Lesson four is complete.
# In your tiny silver shoon...
Lesson four?
To listen.
Well done.
# Will you watch over, please
# My wee ones
# My lambkins
# My sweet chick-a-chickadees
# Loola-bye, oh, loola-bye
# In your tiny silver shoon #
The big day.
I do love my weddings.
Mr Brown. What's he really like?
No idea. Keen as mustard
to tie the knot, though.
Had to sort this out quick.
Only got the sheep dipped yesterday.
But he's easily controlled,
unlike his nasty little brood.
However will you manage them, Selma?
I've got a few tricks up my sleeve.
Never you mind.
I started off by giving
them a good clean-up.
Oh, don't they look lovely?
Sebastian, your top button is undone.
Lily, you have a little hair caught
in your crook. Eric, help her, please.
Your father will be down in a moment.
Now, that is an improvement.
Letty, go and keep a lookout.
I say, whatever your name is,
give me a second on my own
with the little darlings?
Now, my dears, there's going to be
some changes made round here.
I'm in charge of this household now
and while I'm in charge,
you children will behave.
Do you hear? Behave.
And we're not having any
of that nasty noise...
all the way through my nice wedding.
Shut her up.
It's our mother's rattle. Give it back.
I'm your mother now.
Time to adapt.
Papa, Mrs Quickly...
Yoo-hoo, Cedric.
I realise the bride and groom
shouldn't meet until the ceremony,
but you and I are old hands at this.
She's here! Lady Stitch!
Selma, there's footmen.
Oi, make way!
Where's the woman?
- Aunt Adelaide...
- Shut up! Where's the woman, Cedric?
May I present my...fiancee,
Selma Quickly.
Selma, this is Lady Stitch.
Your Ladyness. Welcome,
if I may be so bold,
to our humble, nay, lowly festivities.
You shower glory upon us from above.
The very air about you shines with...
with...with aboveness.
A gracious welcome, I must say.
Rise, my dear.
Here are the children
in their, erm...shepherdess outfits.
Well, that's the girls.
The boys... I'm not sure what they are.
But, erm...anyway, you can see.
Oh, keep up, will you?
Who's that?
- It's a princess.
- A fairy princess.
It's Evangeline.
Straight back. Remember your vowels.
May I present my adopted daughter,
Miss Evangeline Stitch.
What are we doing milling about
in this dreary vestibule?
Sherry this instant.
Might I beg the honour of pouring
the privileged schooners myself?
Delectable to see you again, madam.
Blinkin' hell!
And how nice to see the young people.
Welcome back, Evangeline.
You look well. Are you well?
I am most content.
You must be very happy
to be marrying again.
Oh, yes, I'm... I'm...
How did you put it? Most content.
Of course. Good grief.
I am so glad.
Pray excuse me.
Are you sure it's Evangeline?
It doesn't look anything like her.
Nonsense. She's always looked like that.
What can we do?
There has to be another way.
- Behave.
- Beehive.
You must do as you're told.
- Behave.
- Beehive.
Lesson number five, Simon.
You must do exactly as you're told.
Please be seated.
There isn't a beehive. What do you mean?
Dearly beloved, we are
gathered here together
in the sight of God
and in the face of this congregation
to join together this man and this woman
in holy matrimony,
which is an honourable estate
instituted of God
in the time of man's innocence...
..and commended of St Paul... be honoured among all men.
Get off!
- And is therefore...
- Get off!
- .. not by any man to be enterprised...
- There's one on you!
.. nor taken in hand unadvisedly,
lightly, wantonly...
- There's one on your back!
- satisfy man's carnal lusts...
It's the flowers on her dress!
They're attracting them!
- I hate bees. I'm allergic.
- There aren't any bees, you fool!
No, truly, I swell up.
They're trying to ruin...
my lovely wedding. Nasty,
vicious creatures.
Do something!
Cedric, look at me. Do you see any bees?
I said, look at me!
Do you see any bees? Do you?
- Do you?
- I do.
It's all right. I've
got the little bugger.
It's on me!
Lord love a duck! I'm
so dreadfully sorry!
No, no, no, no, no...
Oh, my Lord. Your Higherness!
- Don't touch the cake!
- Get the tarts!
- Not me good ones!
- Ow, he hit me!
Not the cake! Not the cake!
Right! I'll have the lot of you!
Simon, bowling practice.
Evangeline, where are your manners?
Sod my manners, you old trout.
This is the first fun I've had in weeks!
- Oh, Lord.
- Letty, my hair. Where is it?
"Look at them, the
little, small things."
That's it! You dreadful, awful,
monstrous creatures!
Take your hands off my children!
Cedric, it's over! I won't spend
another minute with this rabble
and I don't care how much
the old hag is giving you.
Letty, the lambs!
- This dress is ruined!
- Absolute carnage!
A nice choice for a
wife, I must say, Cedric.
I'm sorry. You gave me no time
to find anyone else.
As for your children, a lengthy spell...
in a corrective institution
is long overdue.
And you, Evangeline, I can see...
that you are as wild
as the rest of them.
And proud to be. I love
them, Lady Stitch,
which is more than you do.
I'd leave you here to rot,
but I gave my word
that I would raise you
and I never, ever, break my word.
Come away now.
Wait, Aunt Adelaide! Wait!
You agreed. You gave your word
that if our father remarried this month,
you'd support us.
I did.
So if he marries today,
you'll have to keep your word.
- Oh, you're wasting my time!
- No.
No. No, I'm not.
- He will marry today.
- What?
- What?
- What?
- Who?
- He'll marry Evangeline.
No! No, Aunt Adelaide.
Evangeline isn't our sister.
- Not your sister?
- Of course she's not our sister.
Well, who is she, then?
I'm his scullery maid.
Evangeline, do you love Papa?
Of course not. I know my place.
That wouldn't be right. I mean...
Papa, do you love Evangeline?
What? That would be totally improper.
A thing like that
could...could never happen.
I mean, obviously...
He's marrying the scullery maid?
It's snowing!
Well, I never! Snow!
Snow in August!
I take it, then, Mr Brown,
that the young lady
is not in fact the fruit of your loins?
Because the Church would have to take
a rather dim view of it if she were.
No. What happened was my son Simon
is a very clever boy.
for the record,
whatever I may have
said about stepmothers,
that whole "evil breed" moment,
most emphatically does not apply to you.
This way.
Jolly good. If I may then invite you all
to join us once more.
Oh, Nanny McPhee... I'm so nervous.
Deep breaths.
I don't look much like a bride, do l?
You will.
How's the reading coming along?
It's much better.
But I still haven't got to the end
of that story.
No need. You are the end of the story.
Dearly beloved, we are gathered together
to join together this man and this woman
in holy matrimony.
Make a loud noise and rejoice
and sing praise.
There is something...
you should understand
about the way I work.
When you need me but do not want me,
then I must stay.
When you want me but no longer need me,
then I have to go.
edited by rogard