Scene Description Spotlight: “Withnail and I”

This Great Scene was from one of my favorite comedies Withnail and I (1987). Unfortunately, I only had a transcript of the scene to post. But loyal reader Danny Parsons came to the rescue.

Hi Scott,

Attached, as promised, is the scene from ‘Withnail’ as it appears in the published version of the script (except for the formatting, which is — irritatingly — rendered in a style more like that of a stage-play).

And here’s a quote from Robinson that pretty much sums up why I thought the scene was worth typing up for GITS readers, to replace the online transcript you found:

“For good or ill, I write scripts in a different way to most people. I take as much trouble over the descriptive side of them as I take over the dialogue side. If the script is a comedy I want you to be laughing through the stage directions as well […] In screenwriting at its worst you’ll see stage directions like ‘Alice walks into medium close-up. Bobby looks up, peeling an apple’, followed by interminable drivel and the much-needed advice from the writer, ‘This is a funny scene’.”

Here’s another one I liked (BR at his acerbic best!):

“There are certain inviolate rules of screenwriting, and it might be an interesting book to put together. Not all this character curve horseshit. There is no such thing as a character curve. There is a character and there is a curve; I don’t know where they join each other. A guy starts the film hating blacks and by the end he’s shagging a black girl; there’s his character curve. Well, thank you very much. Have I really spent all my adult life learning that?”

Both quotes are taken from (the highly recommended) ‘Smoking in Bed; Conversations with Bruce Robinson’, a book-length interview conducted by Alistair Owen. (Perhaps you could post the second quote as a new entry, in order to ‘bump’ the updated Withnail post.)

Yes, you read that right: Danny was kind enough to type up the scene from a hard-copy of the script and email it to me. For that, Mr. Parsons, you get a quadruple hat-tip!

H/T, H/T, H/T, H/T!

As soon as I started to read the script pages, I knew I was going to use it as this week’s Scene Description Spotlight for three reasons: (1) It gives me a chance to acknowledge Danny’s efforts. (2) I get to pimp one of my favorite comedies yet again (if you haven’t seen Withnail, you really should). (3) The screenwriter Bruce Robinson does a great job with his Narrative Voice.

To focus on the attitude of Robinson’s narrative voice, here is the same scene from last week, only just the scene description!

INT. BATHROOM — APARTMENT — DAY

This bathroom is a psychological deterrent to cleanliness.
It is unclean. At some time in the past somebody has had
an epileptic fit in here with a can of fluorescent paint. There
is wet rot ad dry rot. Evil-looking pustules are breaking
through. A poster of Laurence Olivier as Othello clings to
one of the walls.

The room is very small. A lavatory at one end. A bath at
the other. The type you sit up in like a huge enamel
armchair. MARWOOD is sitting up in it. Pocked and shocked
and attempting to shave. He wears a Shetland jumper rolled
up to just under the armpits. This obviously affords
protection against the cold. A mirror is propped up behind
the taps. His reflection appear in it.

He rinses the razor and shivers. WITHNAIL bursts in wearing
his overcoat.

He clutches a couple of doses of fish and chips.

He thrusts a greasy parcel of newspaper across.

Marwood begins unwrapping it. Withnail lowers the toilet
seat and sits to eat.

Marwood seems concerned at the news. Produces an orange
sausage.

Withnail stands. Pitches his fish and chips into the kazi and
flushes it.

He storms out muttering curses. Principally ‘They will
fucking suffer.’ Marwood lowers his chips. His eyes slip
focus into the mirror.

Focus continues to slip. Another face waits at the end of
it.

INT. KITCHEN — APARTMENT — DAY

DANNY is a man who kept the News of the World in business all
through the 1960s. And at the end of them put Oz out of it.
He has dedicated his adult life to drugs. And it shows. He
is a wreck. About sixty except he’s twenty-six.

A jade streak in his hair and night-black shades. Get down,
punks. This man is before you were born.

Marwood walks in wrapped in a towel. Danny’s voice is
cultured Cockney. Monotoned. And brain-bummed.

Marwood shakes his head. Fills the kettle and gives it the
gas.

The item is handed across. Danny examines it as though it
were some kind of deal. Gives it a sniffing and decides he
likes it.

Danny returns to the living room to put it in his bag.

Withnail hobbles in re-togged in a tweed suit. It’s old but
has quality. Possibly came from a will. Danny looks across
with curiosity.

One of Withnails’ boots is on the table. Matchsticks
separate the soles from the uppers. A cobbling operations is
in progress.

He slumps on the sofa. Withnail carefully adjust a paisley
tie.

Danny conducts an audit of the ashtray. Finds a suitable
butt.

Withnail puts his boot on and stands on it to secure
adhesion.

Half an inch of Gauloise is lit. Withnail pipes ‘Make us a
cup.’

The Gauloise produces a single cough before it takes a
stubbing.

Marwood comes in with a couple of cups. Hands one to
Withnail.

Withnail gestures to a small, pink child’s hot-water bottle
on the sofa. It’s connected to straps and sprouts a yard of
plastic pipe.

Marwood glances at the contraption and starts assembling
clothes.

Nobody pays it any attention. Withnail decreases the
pressure.

Withnail gives his boot a test run. Makes a couple of
journeys to the kitchen and back.

Withnail disguises glue with polish. Marwood gets into a
shirt.

No he hasn’t. Marwood focuses into a mirror. Also wearing
a tie.

This is dangerous talk. Marwood is beginning to look
concerned.

There is a very long pause. The apothecary rolls a tongue
over his contaminated teeth. Takes his glasses off and
somehow manages to lower an eye in his head. He may be
smiling. If Fritz Lang were alive he’d be a star.

There’s a confrontation coming. Marwood moves in to defuse
it.

Withnail watches with a supercilious leer as Danny empties
one of his shopping bags. Horrible things in it. Food
remains. Dead flowers. A bottle of nail varnish. And a
rubber doll. Perhaps the prototype? He holds it menacingly
at Withnail.

Withnail sniggers at it. Enrages its owner. Its bald and
ugly head is torn off and its guts emptied on to the
table. Two dozen coloured spansules. A dozen soiled and
assorted pills. Danny sifts through isolating a tiny pink
tablet. He looks up at Withnail as though this item prevents
all further argument.

Withnail reaches for it. A khaki finger detains it where it
is.

He gathers his equipment and stands. Slings a pelt around
him.

Granted this is a little, independent British comedy from nearly forty years ago, so there are certain things Robinson does that don’t necessarily translate into current style common in Hollywood scripts. But three things strike me:

• Robinson’s narrative voice, this story’s invisible character, is quite chummy with these guys. He’s a pal. He knows them well. He knows their culture. He knows their world. That is reflected in the jargon he uses — “Get down, punks” — and the intimacy with which he describes what’s going on here.
• That chumminess is also reflected in the little character bio he provides for Danny:

DANNY is a man who kept the News of the World in business all
through the 1960s. And at the end of them put Oz out of it.
He has dedicated his adult life to drugs. And it shows. He
is a wreck. About sixty except he’s twenty-six.

In four lines, the narrative voice conveys the essence of who Danny is, clearly ‘spoken’ by a character who knows Danny well. Perhaps too well.

• The narrative voice is funny. Not in an over-the-top or slapstick way. Again, this NV is from this world, so his sense of humor slots perfectly well with these three disparate, inane characters. And he sets the tone right there in the very first paragraph of the scene:

This bathroom is a psychological deterrent to cleanliness.
It is unclean. At some time in the past somebody has had
an epileptic fit in here with a can of fluorescent paint. There
is wet rot ad dry rot. Evil-looking pustules are breaking
through. A poster of Laurence Olivier as Othello clings to
one of the walls.

A big takeaway from Robinson’s handling of scene description is this: What is the relationship between the Narrative Voice ‘character’ and the other characters as well as their story world? In the case of Withnail and I, the NV is a pal with Withnail, Marwood, and Danny, and that chumminess is underscored in the scene description, helping to bring the reader into the characters’ environment.

Here is a taste of the interaction between the three guys.

Bonus question: Which member of The Beatles was involved as a producer on this movie?

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