Bedknobs and Broomsticks (1971)
Captain Ainsley Greer: You there, which way to Pepperinge Eye?
Elderly Farmer: Couldn't say, sir. It said on the wireless to paint out the sign posts in case the Nazis drop in.
Captain Ainsley Greer: I'm not a Nazi, I'm a British officer!
Elderly Farmer: That's what you'd say if you *was* a Nazi, isn't it sir?
Eglentine Price: Treguna, Makoidees, Trecorum, Sadis Dee!
Eglentine Price: You must have given us the wrong address! You don't live *here*, do you?
Mr. Browne: In point of fact I do. Temporarily, at any rate. I found the front door open, the house was deserted! Everyone has left the neighborhood.
Eglentine Price: Now why should they do that?
Mr. Browne: This probably has something to do with it.
[shows them a pit with an unexploded shell in it]
Eglentine Price: Merciful heavens! I should think you'd be *terrified* at the very idea of living here!
Mr. Browne: You'd have thought so, wouldn't you? I am by nature a *little* bit of a coward; but then I pondered, as I often do. In the perverse nature of things, this diabolical object is probably the best friend I've ever had. It has enabled me, for the first time in my life, to live like a king. Shall we go in?
Mr. Browne: Observe the fundamental weakness of the criminal mind. You will believe no one or anything.
[during the soccer match]
Charlie Rawlins: Foul! Foul!
Carrie Rawlins: They're only animals.
Charlie Rawlins: That's no excuse for dirty football.
Eglentine Price: I don't believe in giving animals ridiculous names. I call him Cosmic Creepers, because that's the name he came with.
[as all of Miss Price's belongings come alive thanks to a magic incantation]
Miss Price: That's my nightgown.
Mr. Browne: [dancing with it] Is it really, my dear?
Miss Price: Yes, and I'm not responsible for its behaviour.
Mr. Browne: Obviously not, my dear.
Charlie Rawlins: [reading a container, disgustedly] Poisoned Dragon's Liver?
Eglentine Price: [repeating matter-of-factly] Poisoned Dragon Liver.
Paul Rawlins: You mean you poison the dragon, or just the liver?
Mr. Browne: Bookman! Before your very eyes, I shall cause this bed, and all the occupants upon it, to disappear!
Bookman: Disappear? I should like to see a cheap-jack tenth-rate entertainer do a trick like that.
Mr. Browne: Cheap-jack entertainer. Now that was naughty.
Eglentine Price: [singing] I don't want locomotiary substitution or remote intransitory convolution; only one precise solution is the key: substitutiary locomotion it must be!
Home Guard: [singing] Call out the navy, call out the ranks, call out the air force, call out the tanks! From the cliffs of Dover, call up the gulls; and don't forget the loyal territorials! But who's digging in here? Who will defend, ev'ry inch of England, no matter what they send? Who's standing firm in their own front yard? The soldiers of the old Home Guard, that's who! The soldiers of the old Home Guard! For we wrote the story of the old brigade, we know the glory of yesterday's parades! Who's standing firm in their own front yard? The soldiers of the old Home Guard, that's who! The soldiers of the old Home Guard!
[Secretary Bird notices the King's star is missing and reacts]
Lion: Stop jibbering!
[hits Secretary Bird on the head]
Lion: What's the matter with you?
Secretary Bird: [blubbering] Your royal star! They've stolen your royal star!
Lion: [laughs] Don't be ridiculous! What do you think this is?
[the King dangles a whistle in front of Secretary Bird, who blows on it]
Lion: Whyyyyyyyyyyy didn't youuuuuuuuu sayyyyyyyyyyyyy sooooooooooooooo?
[the King roars so loudly, he blows Secretary Bird's clothes off]
Eglentine Price: The Spell which creates this force is 5 mystic words. These words are...
[pause as Miss Price looks at the book]
Eglentine Price: But the rest of the book is missing.
Mr. Browne: Now you see why I closed down the college.
[Ms. Price speaks the magic spell for the first time; nothing happens]
Eglentine Price: Am I doing something wrong?
Mr. Browne: Well, to tell you the truth, it does seem a bit old-fashioned. After all, we are in the twentieth century.
Eglentine Price: What do you suggest?
Mr. Browne: Well, it needs rhythm, tempo, music! As I always say: do it with a flair.
Colonel Heller: No, Fraulein, this is not the invasion, just a little exercise. A minor raid to induce panic and spread a little mischief. When you English get it through your head that the German forces can land at will whenever and wherever we please, perhaps you will consider reasonable peace.
Charlie Rawlins: [angrily] Not bloody likely!
Charlie Rawlins: Ref, are you blind?
Miss Price: Be quiet, Charles. Don't forget who the referee is.
Lion: Friendly lot. Don't mind them visiting. Wouldn't want them living here.
Bookman: There is, I regret to say, no such island. I looked for it in every chart. The Isle of Naboombu does not exist.
Paul Rawlins: Oh, it does, too! Got me own...
[Charlie clamps his hand over Paul's mouth, making his words come out garbled]
Bookman: What is he trying to say?
Charlie Rawlins: Nothing! When he don't say nothing, he burbles.
Paul Rawlins: What is it? A toy shop?
Carrie Rawlins: No, it's a nursery. Ain't you ever seen a nursery?
Charlie Rawlins: No and neither 'ave you!
Mr. Browne: [singing] Portobello Road, Portobello Road, street where the riches of ages are stowed! Anything and everything a chap can unload, is sold off the barrow in Portobello Road. You'll find what you want in the Portobello Road!
Charlie Rawlins: Hurt your foot, Miss Price?
Miss Price: Oh, just twisted my ankle.
Charlie Rawlins: Sorry to hear that.
Miss Price: Thank you. It's nothing serious.
Charlie Rawlins: Lovely weather for flying last night.
Miss Price: Why did you say that, Charles?
Charlie Rawlins: [bringing out her broken broomstick] Game's up, Miss Price. We know what you are.
Miss Price: I see.
[she looks worriedly at Charles]
Charlie Rawlins: Don't worry, Miss Price. No one's gonna peach on you.
Eglentine Price: [singing] When you rush around in hopeless circles, searching everywhere for something true, you're at the age of not believing, when all the make-believe is through.
Carrie Rawlins: [speaking] That's Charlie, to a 'T'.
Eglentine Price: [still singing] When you set aside your childhood heroes, and your dreams are lost upon a shelf, you're at the age of not believing, and worst of all you doubt yourself.
[speaking; about an apple core]
Eglentine Price: Throw that into the waste basket.
Eglentine Price: You're a castaway where no one hears you, on a barren isle in a lonely sea.
Charlie Rawlins: [speaking] What's that supposed to be, poetry?
Eglentine Price: [still singing] Where did all the happy endings go? Where can all the good times be?
Eglentine Price: Everyone on the bed who's going.
Eglentine Price: You must face the age of not believing, doubting everything you ever knew. Until at last, you start believing there's something wonderful in you!
Mr. Browne: This good lady is looking for the other half of this book.
Eglentine Price: It's called The Spells of Astoroth.
Portobello Road Book Merchant: I don't keep no torn or damaged books here. What do you think I am, a ruddy waste paper merchant?
Mr. Browne: Now, I shall place the framed glass in this brown, unprepared - unprepared, mark you, ladies and gentlemen - unprepared brown paper bag.
[rummaging through Miss Price's spells]
Mr. Browne: Where is it?
[getting slightly annoyed]
Mr. Browne: Confound it why can't women learn to file things properly!
[Nazi's begin to pound on the door]
Mr. Browne: Ah, here it is! Uh,filigree apogee pedigree perigee!
[blows out the match, then quickly runs and sits in front of a mirror]
Mr. Browne: Filigree, uh, apogee, oh pedigree perigee!
[Nothing happens, the Nazi's pounding is getting louder]
Mr. Browne: [to his reflection] Now come on my boy, for once in your life you've got to believe in something! That's it, good lad.
Mr. Browne: Filigree apogee pedigree perigee!
[Mr. Browne's nose begins to twitch uncontrollably, he smiles as the spell surrounds him, the Nazi's finally break into the room, but they clearly can't believe what they see. Mr. Browne has turned himself into a fluffy white rabbit, and off he scampers to save Miss Price and the children]
Mr. Browne: It is not what things are; it is what they seem to be. Is that not so, Madam?
Mr. Browne: And the scent of burning sulfur in the air!
Lion: Loyal fans! This is official: we have a volunteer referee!