Jamie and Malcom’s loving phone call in In The Loop, script vs film
[image description: two photos of Malcolm and Jamie’s lines from the BBC script followed by six images of Malcolm and Jamie’s conversation going back and forth between them. Jamie is standing in a large hall in London and Malcolm is walking down a corridor in New York.]
Script:
Jamie:
Okay, your phone's off, which means you've been shot dead by a fat American, but there's been a fucktastrophe. Someone's leaked Liza Weld's Pwip Pip paper to the BBC. I reckon it'll be on the six O'Clock news here, one o'clock your time, so it's going to fist your fucking vote apart. Missing you loads, pwip-pip, toodle-oo!
Malcolm:
Okay Jamie, this is your mission, should you choose to accept it. Find out who leaked Pwip Pip. Jump up and down on them until they are dead. Then find out who's got it at the BBC. Go over there and waterboard them with their own fucking frappacino. We need them to dither about until after the vote, yeah? Then it's all fist bumps and shooty fucking bang-bang. I love you.
Film:
Jamie: OK. Your phone is off, but there's been a catastrofuck here. Someone's leaked Liza Weld's PWIP PIP paper to the BBC.
Malcolm: [listening to his voicemail] Jesus Christ!
Jamie: I reckon it's going to be on the six o’clock news, one o'clock your time. That is going to fucking fist your UN vote to death. [To someone out of view] Hey you! Freeze! [To phone] Right. Missing you loads. PWIP PIP, toodle-oo.
Malcolm: OK, Jamie, two jobs. Job one. Find the PWIP PIP leaker and kill them. Job one has two parts. Job two. Go to the BBC and find out who's got it there. We need them to delay till after the vote. Yeah? I love you.
I am so incredibly sorry. I have so many IASIP thoughts going through my head. Like yeah MacDennis canon(ish) and I’m relishing in this moment, but like that’s not what I’m here to talk about. I am absolutely spinning rn. Not phased at Bryan and Aaron next episode. What I am REELING at is this screengrab I took.
Yes my nefarious little shithead (affectionately) . I love him. I despise him. My south Philly white trash. But that is not what I’m here to talk about. Please direct your attention to Ronald MacDonald’s ear.
IS THAT WHAT I THINK IT IS??? Did this motherfucker get his ear pierced???? Why is this the thing sending me into a spiral? Not the beads. Not the Johnny of it all. But this motherfucker piercing his EAR?
I literally want to give him shaken baby syndrome. That’s my jawn right there frfr.
The last outdoor farmer's market was in full autumnal bloom. The MacDonald boys spent most of their Saturday mornings for the past two seasons manning the MacDonald Farm Goods booth. John was so proud of his sons working together for their farm.
After stocking some shelves, Paul neared his father and asked, "So, what will we do with the things we don't sell?"
"We'll store canned goods and boxes in the barn, and the produce we'll pickle or can and store those in the cellar, by the back door."
"We will eat all of this?"
"I mean, eventually. Winter months are long on a farm, son."
"Hmm."
"Dad?" Henry asked. "I bagged all the tomatoes like you asked."
"Good job, Hen."
"What can I do next?"
"Go help your brother, and be nice to the customers. This is the last market for a while, we need to make as much money as we can."
"Okay!"
"Dad told me to help you."
"But I'm just sittin'," replied Paul.
"Oh. Maybe he meant talk to the customers for you?
I'VE HEARD THE MERMAIDS SINGING (1987)
dir. Patricia Rozema
Amateur photographer Polly lands a temp job at a Toronto art gallery run by elegant and sophisticated Gabrielle, who is also a painter. Polly is impressed with Gabrielle's paintings. The absent-minded temp with spiky orange hair and the polished curator with a gift for gab are like night and day, yet a strong connection builds between these two women through their shared love of art, and their genuine curiosity and need for love, but as Polly gets to know Gabrielle's lover, Mary, and becomes entangled in their lives, she realizes that Gabrielle isn't exactly who she appears to be.
(link in title)