Sleepwalker (1984) Movie Script

Just a bad dream, Marion.
Just a bad dream.
Do you know what time it is?
You've been asleep
most of the afternoon!
So much for Al fresco.
It's just my luck!
Even the weather gangs up on me.
I'm sure they would have loved it.
Don't you think
they would have loved it?
Loved it?
- What does Robert do again?
- Oh, Alex, please!
It's Richard!
Richard and Angela.
I told you, he's in video.
How refreshing!
Did you bring that table in?
Well, do you think you can?
And can you look at that window?
Now, listen!
I bloody well drove us here.
Now, you bloody well find the place!
All right?
I said, "All right?"
Richard, please!
I hate it when you're like this.
When I'm like this?
Just let me remind you that
this rural bloody retreat was your idea.
They're your fucking friends.
You find the place!
All I can make out is...
All it says is that it is a house
with a "for sale" sign.
Oh, Christ!
Look out!
Up yours!
Sorry. I thought
you were going to hit him.
Hit him?
Did you do the window, Alex?
I'm sorry?
We made it!
Come in!
Angela, you shouldn't have.
Richard. Richard...
They're lovely.
But... Well, look, come in!
We've had the most terrible disaster.
The whole downstairs blew up
just this minute.
Kitchen window
fell on the dinner.
Still, we've real fires in here.
Oh, well done, darling.
Let me introduce you.
Alex, this is Richard
and Angela Paradise.
It's Victorian, isn't it?
I often think I'd like to have
been born in Victorian times.
It's just as mother left it.
- What shall I...
- Alex will take it up for you. Darling?
- Do you want a drink?
- What would you like to drink?
Sherry or something?
Come and get into the warm,
you two.
I'm afraid we'll have to eat out
after that...
But still, it's a lovely place.
But I'd better ring up.
Just to be on the safe side.
What did she say happened?
Oh, I don't know.
A window on the dinner or something.
Wake me up
when it's over, will you?
Did you make a reservation, madam?
The name's Britain.
- I telephoned.
- Of course.
It's rather good here.
We're pretty lucky, really.
Do you think
they do a decent breakfast?
Something to drink, sir?
Er... Let's have the wine
straight away, shall we?
- Red all right?
- Fine.
- Do you have a good Burgundy?
- I think we can find something.
Fine, we'll have that.
The place is full of bloody queers.
Didn't know
they had them this far north.
Do they, er...
I mean, are there a lot in...
Or something.
I heard a good joke the other day.
Bloody funny.
What does G-A-Y stand for?
Don't know.
"Got AIDS yet?"
I don't suppose it's very funny
if you do have it.
- As a matter of fact...
- Oh, pour it.
According to an article
I read in the New Scientist recently,
AIDS is not
an exclusively homosexual...
Do you mind turning down
this awful pipe music?
Certainly, sir.
Marion, did I show you
what Richard found at the squash club?
- We're pretty sure it's real.
- It is rather nice.
But didn't it belong to someone?
No one I know.
I felt such a fool wearing one,
but apparently it's very trendy, actually.
Ah, looks like a bit of action at last.
They're usually pretty quick.
So they should be.
This is the age of the microwave.
Get it out fast!
All this bloody luddite rubbish about...
Ah, duck l'orange.
Is that any good?
As I was saying, all this luddite
rubbish about traditional methods.
Sheer antiquated claptrap.
We couldn't do without ours,
darling, could we?
Here's to microwaves.
- You two got one?
- No.
You see what I mean, don't you?
The tricky thing about it was
she was out for the count.
Out for the count.
Do you know what I did then?
I shook her.
I took her by the shoulders
and I shook her.
"Wake up," I said.
"Wake up. You're in a coma."
"Start walking. Wake up."
You've got to keep 'em walking,
you know, when they're in a coma.
Yes, I believe so, sir.
- Thank you.
- That's it.
There we are.
- Yes, it's turning...
- Careful!
...much colder, isn't it?
- That's it.
- Well done.
I tell you,
Jakarta's the spot.
They lay on everything, literally.
Room service and...
If you see what I mean.
And the Silks!
You know how things work
in Indonesia?
They want business,
so they go out and get it.
We could learn a lot
from them these days.
- Like sweated labour?
- And what's wrong with sweat?
You picked an odd place to live
if you're squeamish on that score.
They haven't been there long, Richard.
- It's about six months, isn't it?
- Since mother died?
- Yes, about that.
- Ah, but you see...
The house is different.
- The house is mine.
- Ours!
The house is something
to believe in. It's...
- Your castle!
- Yes.
No, more than that.
A castle is just property, insular.
We were looking
for something extra.
We were looking for... a life.
The house, where it is,
the decision...
Working on it together, it's...
It's a home.
It's not some bloody
electronic sweatshop.
And we're not coolies scrabbling around
for the odd cent at the end of the week.
Oh, but Alex,
they're glad of the money.
They don't need much.
It costs hardly anything to live out there.
And they do treat him marvellously.
They do. They do.
Because they want to,
out of sheer natural hospitality.
Not at all.
Because they know
what side their bread's buttered.
Video's a cut-throat market.
Tight margins.
And when they see me,
they see money.
They see a citizen of the world,
a floating entrepreneur.
Exclusively in business to create wealth.
For them, for me.
I can never understand
how people like you...
...have such a clear run.
What happens when you throw shit
and a gold bar into a pond, huh?
Well, I'll tell you.
The shit floats,
and the gold goes straight to the bottom.
And where does that leave you?
With money in the bank, old bean.
That's where it leaves me.
Not stuck in the mud,
or in the sticks.
But surely that's what you want, isn't it?
Everyone stuck in the mud,
...cave dwellers with TV sets.
You turn us all into recluses,
and you charge us for the privacy.
So? It's not a divine right,
is it, privacy?
It's a commodity with a value.
Oh, come on.
You don't mean that, do you?
Well, not really.
We do deals with pubs too.
Well, I agree with Alex.
It will kill conversation. It already has.
Bugger conversation!
It's communication that I sell.
The medium is the message.
- Madam, may I?
- Yes.
Ah, thank you.
- Marion reads for a publisher.
- Really?
They only send me crap
these days.
Think if I can stand living here,
I can stand anything.
- All those poor authors.
- Well, it bloody well serves them right.
Shouldn't write the stuff, should they?
- And you don't write anything?
- No, not anymore.
So, there's just Alex.
Alex? He's not a writer.
He's a translator, I think.
What do you mean,
you think?
Well, I did once get sent a book
I thought he might have had a hand in.
It was a thriller...
...about a woman who has a dream
about peeling tomatoes.
Then, when she wakes up,
...she's sliced her husband to bits
with a carving knife.
I think we've heard enough now.
How horrible!
What made you think it was Alex?
Did you recognise the style
or something clever?
Style, Richard?
Translators don't have style.
- Oh, no. I recognised the incident.
- Marion!
No! Things like that you don't forget.
And then there was the other stuff.
The technical detail.
Alex's little obsession.
Russian expert.
German expert.
But particularly well up
on sleepwalking.
Amazing, isn't he?
He tried to strangle me once.
In his sleep, of course.
- You're joking!
- No, you wouldn't believe it!
Barking like a dog.
We were in a helicopter once.
Kept telling me to look at the view.
Oh, shut up!
Your roots are here, aren't they?
Only one thing has roots
and that's a vegetable.
Oh, shut up, Richard!
I'm sorry.
What did you say?
We were just saying,
it's so quiet after London.
But if your roots are here, it's...
It's easier to adjust.
I don't have roots here.
Well, what I mean is
that I wasn't born here.
But yes, we did move here
when I was 13.
All but Alex, anyway.
So, yes.
You're right, Angela, really.
It's just that...
Well, we'd only been here six months
when father dumped us.
I haven't seen him since.
Pissed off to Africa.
About a century too late.
He does write, though.
No, actually...
Actually, I don't mind London.
- I don't mind it at all.
- Damn right!
Big pond for big fish.
It's the only place to be
in this country.
Massive unemployment.
I'll drink to London!
Massive unemployment,
do you think that's good?
Of course it's good.
Bloodletting, isn't it?
Sucking the poison
out of the system.
Dog eat dog.
If you can't go to work, go to hell!
You're not serious.
Don't you know your own history?
He's actually thinking very carefully
of going into politics.
Have you the remotest idea
what you are talking about?
Oh, I don't suppose it will be the unions
who sweep you to power.
So, have you joined
the Conservative Party?
Are you on the branch committee?
Have you been canvassing
for the last ten years?
What's your record
as a local councillor?
Ah, don't tell me!
You haven't even bothered
to stand yet!
You know nothing about it!
I know nothing about it, huh?
You know what you are, don't you?
You're the meat eater
who can't bear the blood.
And do you know what's put
all that flab on your conscience?
Hundreds of years of it.
That's bought you your little nest
to get squeamish in.
- You're a pimp, Alex. You're a kept man.
- I'm a democrat.
You're a bloody pimp,
a bloody little pimp who thinks...
...all prostitutes ought to be virgins.
I'll gel the bill.
Don't get up!
Oh... I'm sorry.
Bit too much to drink, I'm afraid.
But you will still stay, won't you?
Oh, well, of course, darling.
Of course.
Of course.
- What were you saying about Alex?
- Did you ever feel...
Mind you, it sounds a bit odd, but...
Did you ever feel
you were part of someone else's dream?
- I hope we haven't upset Alex.
- Oh, forget Alex!
- I hope he's not going to drive.
- Oh, hurry up.
Alex! The keys!
You're not going
to let him drive, are you?
What was the tip?
- I'll spoof you for it.
- Don't be offensive!
- Did Maude ever tell you that story?
- What story?
- About the Colonel there.
- No.
Ah, you know,
he always insisted on Maude.
And one night
she put a bottle of port on his table.
Years ago now.
The old beggar drank the whole lot.
So, she asked him,
...had he managed to drink
a whole bottle of port on his own?
"No", he said,
"I didn't drink it on my own.
"I had the help of a bottle of Madeira."
Hey. Damn cheek.
Damn! Not again!
Oh, just the bulb, thank God!
I'll get some wood.
Drink, anyone?
We're leaving. Now!
- Richard, we promised!
- You promised!
Oh, no. You agreed, remember?
Marion asked you, didn't she?
Specifically, as I recall.
- What's that supposed to mean?
- Look...
...I spent a long time in hospital
when you were away.
If it hadn't been for Marion...
She was very good to me.
She was a friend, and I promised.
Now, we can leave in the morning.
We will. I want to.
One night in this place!
God knows how those two stick it!
It's convenient.
It was left to them.
- And they fight like cat and dog.
- Well, don't they always?
- What?
- Brother and sister, fight. I know I did.
Brother and sister?
God! Ha! I can't believe it!
Look, I'm going to give Marion a hand.
My God, Marion!
I had no idea!
You must let me do something.
It's terrible.
It's quite terrible.
Poor Marion!
Let Alex do it.
It's his bloody fault.
It's all his bloody fault.
Poor Alex!
Bottoms up!
Come in, Angela.
And, er... what's all that in there?
Von Kleist's stuff of Alex's.
German dramatist.
Death, rot, misery.
Right up his street.
The corpse of Monsieur Valdemar.
- Do you know that story?
- No.
- No.
- Jolly funny.
Edgar Allan Poe.
They keep someone alive
by hypnotising him...
...just before he conks out.
Stays that way for months.
Then they think better of it.
- What happens?
- He decomposes, darling.
Right before their eyes.
A loathsome mass
of detestable putridity.
Just like life, really.
- Let's have another drink.
- Marion.
I keep thinking...
what you said at dinner about Alex.
Oh, forget it.
No, Marion.
Can't you do something?
See a specialist or someone?
Oh, but we did!
It was fascinating!
I was just telling Angela, darling,
...about our little business
with the psychiatrist.
Have another drink, Alex.
Ever such a helpful man,
the psychiatrist.
Deep-rooted trauma, he said.
All the result
of a deeply insecure childhood.
And that was bloody Alex.
Well, he never got round to me.
Would have been twice the price.
It's not all a bed of thorns, is it?
You are a bitch!
And you're the dog.
You're the dog.
And you can piss off!
You're just a guest in this house,
Well, that's a matter
for some debate.
God, I hope there's a lock
on his bedroom door.
Oh, don't worry about him.
He takes sleeping pills now.
Let's have some music.
You found the tape!
This leaves me cold.
It's bedtime for me.
Aren't you glad you stayed?
I won't stop, Richard.
I don't.
I'm not a prick teaser.
Well... that's good.
But Alex says I am.
He says I'm cold.
I'm cold, Richard.
You really must excuse me.
I've got to be going to bed.
Someone walking over your grave?
Don't worry, I'm not dead yet.
- I'm glad to hear it.
- Are you?
"I'm not a prick teaser, Richard."
I heard it all, you know.
"I'm cold." Cold!
Fucking freezing!
You know, she's absolutely crazy.
I feel sorry for her.
I feel sorry for both of them.
No, don't waste your energy.
Well, she was kind.
It was a help.
So, what's she doing now?
Levelling the score?
I promised her, that's all.
What was she in there for?
Oh, same as me, kind of.
Anyway, it's all over.
It's strange. You can get close
to people sometimes.
The funniest people.
And you never know what will happen.
You're not to do that again.
You're not to!
Oh, go back to bed, Alex!
- Marion, please!
- Oh, go to bed.
Wake up!
# Living the life that a young man... #
'...according to the official
south news agency...'
'...hardly a man
one associated with epics...'
'...was going to direct...'
# With the sound of music... #
'...the 1500 members...'
'Will he ensure
that the security fences...'
'...are now made stronger...'
' order to prevent these
loonies from jumping them...'
'...jumping them...'
# One of us is changing #
# Or maybe we just stopped trying... #
Oh, God!
Not me! Not me!
Wake up!
Wake up!
Please wake up!