Yellow Submarine (1968)
Ringo: Hey, I wonder what'll happen if I pull this lever.
Old Fred: Oh, you mustn't do that now.
Ringo: Can't help it. I'm a born "Liver-pooler."
Paul: Look, it's a school of whales.
Ringo: They look a little bit old for school.
Paul: University then.
Ringo: University of "Wales".
John: They look like drop outs to me.
Ringo: Liverpool can be a lonely place on a Saturday night, and this is only Thursday morning.
Jeremy: Ad hoc, ad loc, and quid pro quo! So little time! So much to know!
George: Hey! There's a Cyclops!
Paul: Can't be. It's got two eyes.
John: Must be a "bicycle-ops" then.
Ringo: There's another one.
John: A whole "'cyclopedia"!
Old Fred: Oh! Frankenstein!
Ringo: Yeah, I used to go out with his sister.
Old Fred: His sister?
Ringo: Yeah, Phyllis.
Old Fred: Help! Help! Help!
Ringo: Thanks, we don't need any.
Old Fred: Help!
Old Fred: Won't you please, please Help me?
Ringo: Be specific.
[the Beatles are shown as their live action selves]
George: That was one great party. And we brought back some lovely souvenirs.
[takes out a kite string with a wind-up mistaken for a motor]
George: Here's the motor.
Paul: And I've got a little
[the word "love" comes out of his hand]
Ringo: [takes out a fake hole from his pocket] And I've got a hole in my pocket.
George: A hole?
Ringo: Well, half a hole anyway. I gave the rest to Jeremy.
George: What can he do with half a hole?
Paul: Fix it to keep his mind from wandering!
[after Ringo ejects himself from the submarine]
Paul: Poor Ringo.
George: Poor lad.
Paul: Never did no harm to no one.
John: Hey, lads, now that Ringo's gone, what do we do?
Old Fred: Learn to sing trios.
Paul: Naw, let's save the poor devil.
Narrator: Once upon a time, or maybe twice, there was an unearthly paradise called Pepperland. 80,000 leagues beneath the sea it lay, or lie. I'm not too sure.
George: Maybe time's gone on strike.
Ringo: What for?
George: Shorter hours.
Ringo: I don't blame it. Must be very tiring being time, mustn't it?
Ringo: Well, it's a twenty four hour day, isn't it?
John: You surprise me, Ringo.
John: Dealing in abstracts.
Blue Meanie: Are you, er blueish? You don't look blueish.
Jeremy Hillary Boob, PhD.: If I spoke prose you'd all find out / I don't know what I talk about.
George: Yes, dey do look very nice, don't dey?
Ringo: Yes, dey do.
John: Dey do dough, don't dey?
George: Yes, dey do.
Ringo: Don't dey, dough?
John: Fa-la. Dat dough!
Chief Meanie: Pepperland is a tickle of joy on the blue belly of the universe. It must be scratched. Right, Max?
Max: Yes, your Blueness.
Chief Meanie: WHAT? We Meanies only take "no" for an answer! Is that understood, Max?
Max: No, Your Blueness!
Chief Meanie: That's better!
Ringo: Move over, I'm driving.
George: No, I got here first.
Ringo: We'll drive if you like.
George: No, you sit in the middle.
John: No, I'm sitting in the middle.
George: Who said you were driving?
Ringo: I am driving.
George: I'll get in the back, then.
[they drive off camera]
George: Ok, men all aboard. Lets go somewhere.
Ringo: [Indicating Jeremy] What about him?
John: He's happy enough going around in circles.
Ringo: Aw, poor little fellow.
Paul: I don't know. Ringo's just a sentamentalist.
Ringo: Aw, look at him. Can't he come with us?
[he goes over to Jeremy]
Ringo: Hey, Mr Boob! You can come with us if you like.
Jeremy: You mean you'd take a nowhere man?
Ringo: Yeah, come on. We'll take you somewhere.
Chief Meanie: Ah, the hills are alive...
Max: [sings] ... with the sound of music!
Chief Meanie: [Punches Max] Who did it? Who is responsible for this?
[Chief Meanie shoots him, Blue Menial #3 stomps him into ground]
Max: [Poking his head up from ground] Guy Lombardo?
Old Fred: Hey, what would your friends be doing here?
Old Fred: Displaying what?
Ringo: Dis-playing around.
Chief Blue Meanie: Hee, hee hee hee hee! Oh, I haven't laughed so much since Pompeii.
[seeing John looking through a telescope, concerned]
Paul: What's the matter, John Love? Blue Meanies.
John Lennon: Newer and bluer Meanies have been sighted in the vicinity of this theatre. There's only one way we can go out!
George: How's that?
John Lennon: Singing!
Old Fred: "H" for "Hurry," "E" for "'Ergent,'" "L" for "Love me," and "P" for "P-P-P-Please help!"
Old Fred: Now whatever you do, don't touch that button!
Ringo: Which button?
Old Fred: That button.
Ringo: This button?
[presses the button and is ejected]
Old Fred: That was the panic button.
John: [singing] Nothing you can make that can't be made. No one you can save that can't be saved. Nothing you can do but you can learn how to be you in time. It's easy. All You Need is Love. All You Need is Love. All You Need is Love, love. Love is all you need.
John: Hello, there, blue people! Won't you join us? Hook up, and otherwise co-mingle? What do you say?
Chief Meanie: Max.
Max: Your Blue-, uh, I mean, er, Your Newness?
Chief Meanie: It's no longer a blue world, Max. Where could we go?
John: Are you with us? Will you join?
Chief Meanie: Shall we?
Max: [nodding] No!
Chief Meanie: [threatening] Aargh!
Max: [hastily] N-n-y-y-y-y-Yes, Your Newness!
Chief Meanie: Yes, Max!
Jeremy: Yes! Ah, yes is a word with a glorious ring! A true universal utopious thing! Engenders embracing and chasing of blues, the very best word for the whole world to use!
Chief Meanie: Yes, let us mix, Max. I've never admitted it before, but my cousin is the bluebird of happiness!
John: Well, in my humble opinion, we've become involved in Einstein's time space continuum theory.
George: Oh, right.
John: Relatively speaking, that is.
George: Okay, instruments at the ready.
John: Okay, on the beat of one, a-two, a-three, a-four, a-five, a-six.
Ringo: Hey, can't you make it three?
John: Oh, all right, on the beat of three: A-one, a-two, a-three.
[Jeremy is cornered by the Chief Meanie]
Jeremy Hillary Boob, PhD.: He does, in truth, seem quite annoyed. Some reference material be-be-before I'm destroyed!
Jeremy Hillary Boob, PhD.: "Where ground is soft most often grows, arise! Arise! Arouse! A rose!
[a rose sprouts on the Chief Meanie's nose]
Jeremy Hillary Boob, PhD.: A rosy nose?
Chief Meanie: Speak your last piece!
Jeremy Hillary Boob, PhD.: Peace! Peace! Supplant the doom and the gloom! Turn off what is sour! Turn into a flower and bloom! Bloom! Bloom!
[roses sprout all over the Chief Meanie]
Paul: [they're hiding from the Meanies in the gazebo] Do you think they heard us?
John: I hope not.
George: What did you say?
George: Good plan.
Paul: So this is a submarine!
John: Soft, isn't it?
Ringo: [popping out of a hatch in the floor] Not if you're on the bottom.
Old Fred: [after they have all been turned into much younger versions of themselves] Now I don't mean to alarm you, mates, but the years are going backwards.
George: What does that mean, Old Fred?
Old Fred: It means that if we slip back through time at this rate, pretty soon we'll all disappear up our own existance!
John: [Frankenstein's monster has turned into John Lennon] Hey, Ringo, I've just had the strangest dream.
Ringo: I warned you not to eat on an empty stomach. Now listen to Old Fred.
Old Fred: [speaking gibberish] Submarine! Explosions! Blue Meanies!
Old Fred: What do you think?
John: [to Ringo] I think he needs a rehearsal.
Ringo: Cor! It's all a load of Father Xmas's.
Paul: No, that's Father Time.
Ringo: How'd you know that?
Paul: Well, I read it in a book once.
[Jeremy is writing with his foot]
Jeremy: The footnotes for my nineteenth book. This is my standard procedure for doing it. And while I compose it, I'm also reviewing it!
George: A boob for all seasons.
Paul: How can he lose?
John: Were your notices good?
Jeremy: It's my policy never to read my reviews.
Chief Meanie: Go, glove! Point, and having pointed, pounce!
[being swallowed by the vacuum monster]
John: The motor's packing in!
Old Fred: By all the sea nymphettes! We're losing power!
George: We're being swallowed!
Paul: What should we do?
John: Serve tea?
Paul: [singing] When I get older losing my hair many years from now. Will you still be sending me a valentine, birthday greetings, bottle of wine? If I'd been out till quarter to three would you lock the door? Will you still need me, will you still feed me When I'm Sixty Four?
Old Fred: [the motor has conked out] By Neptune's knickerbockers! She's puttered out!
George: Maybe we should call a road service?
Paul: Can't; no road.
Ringo: And we're not sub... scribers.
Paul: Groovy! How do you start this thing?
Old Fred: It starts with a Blue Meanie attack.
John: Well, supposing there are no Blue Meanies in the neighbourhood?
Old Fred: Oh, er, well, then you, um, start looking for a switch.
Ringo: [Ringo pushes a button that starts playing the first few notes of the song "All Together Now"] Perhaps this is it.
Lord Mayor: It's quite uncanny, your faces.
Paul: We're quite cute, really.
Lord Mayor: You could pass for the originals!
John: We are the originals.
Ringo: Oh, your story has touched me heart. Jump in. We'll get me friends.
Old Fred: Oh, bless you.
Ringo: Did I sneeze?
John: [in the Sea of Holes] This place reminds me of Blackburn, Lancashire.
Paul: [sings] Oh, boy!
George: How many do you think there are in all?
Jeremy Hillary Boob, PhD.: Enough to fill the Albert Hall!
Old Fred: You've got to steer clear.
Ringo: Steer clear?
Old Fred: Yes, steer. Clear?
Ringo: Yes, dear.
Ringo: George, what are you doing up there?
George: [driving in Ringo's car] Now, what is it, Ringo? Is there a matter you'd like to take up or down?
Ringo: [indicating Fred] This chap, here.
Old Fred: [crazy gibberish] Submarines! Explosions!
George: Aww, you're nuts, the pair of you.
Ringo: Hey, that's my car, lad.
George: How do you know it's your car, lad?
Ringo: I know it anywhere. Red with yellow wheels.
[the car changes colors]
Ringo: I mean blue with orange wheels.
[the car changes colors again]
George: It's all in the mind.
George: Hey, it's seen us!
Old Fred: Fire the boxing button!
Paul: Whoever heard of a "boxing button"?
George: Who cares! Find one!
Ringo: [as Jeremy disables the Chief Blue Meenie with flowers] First time I saw that Nowhere Man, that Nobody, "I" knew he was Somebody.
John: You're right.
[opening a door to find King Kong abducting a woman]
George: Do you think we're interrupting something?
John: I think so.
John: Hey, Jeremy, what do you know about holes?
Jeremy Hillary Boob, PhD.: There are simply no holes in my education.
Paul: You mean you haven't composed a "hole" book?
Paul: [seeing the Chief Meanie for the first time] Hey, he reminds me of my old English teacher.
John: Look, if you must shout, shout quietly!
Chief Meanie: My dear friend let us not forget that heaven is blue.
Old Fred: All right then. Let's get this vessel shipshape.
George: I kind of like it the way it is. Submarine shape.
George: Do you speak English?
Jeremy: Old English, Middle, Dialect, Pure.
Paul: Well, do you speak English?
Jeremy: You know, I'm not sure.
Ringo: He's so smart he doesn't even remember what he knows!
Ringo: Hey, would you believe me if I told you I was being followed by a yellow submarine?
Police Officer: Um, uh, no. No, I would not.
Ringo: I, uh, didn't think you would. I could've sworn it was a yellow submarine. But that isn't logical now, is it? It must've been one of them "Unidentified Flying Cupcakes". One of the figments of me imagination. But I don't have an imagination.
Chief Blue Meanie: [as Blue Minions are routed] You're advancing the wrong way! Retreat backwards!
Ringo: Nothing ever happens to me. I'd jump in the River Mersey but it looks like rain.
George: Not a Meanie in sight.
John: Not even a teeny Meanie.
Paul: Not even a teeny weeny Meanie.
Chief Meanie: What, what, what! The glove is losing his touch!
Old Fred: Well, lads, what do you think?
George: I think that...
Old Fred: Remember, there'll be rough seas ahead! What do you think?
Paul: Well, um...
Old Fred: Pounding overwhelming waves! What do you think of that, eh?
John: Well, I think that...
Ringo: As a matter of fact, I think that...
Old Fred: Well?
Chief Meanie: Ah, here you are my glovey-dovey. Go get thee hence, and destroy yon upstarts. Smash them, squash them, crush them! O-blue-terate them!
John: If I could come in, here, I think the theory put forward by Einstein.
Paul: [singing, to the tune of "Any Old Iron"] Any old Ein, any old Ein, any any any old Einstein.
John: Could well be applied here. The people in the ball are obviously extensions of our own personalities, suspended, as it were, in time, frozen in space.
George: Uh, John.
John: According to the now-famous theory of relativity.
John: Which, briefly explained.
John: Is simply a matter of taking two eggs.
John: Beating lightly, and adding a little salt and pepper to taste.
George: As a matter of fact, there's a war on.
John: Then brothers in war, to the skirmish must we hence! Shall we hence?
Paul: Oh, let's not waste any more time sitting on the hence! Beatles to battle! Charge!
George: Hey, he looks wrong.
Paul: He doesn't look at all well.
George: In fact, he's horrible.
John: He's so ugly.
All: Really ugly!
Old Fred: [George tries to fix the sub's motor; receives a huge electric shock instead] What do you think?
George: I think I burnt me finger.
Ringo: [singing] And the band begins to play. We all live in a Yellow Submarine. Yellow Submarine. Yellow Submarine.
[the Beatles have finally arrived in Pepperland]
George: Looks a bit salty around the edges.
Chief Meanie: [confronting Jeremy] I think I'll tear him up into little pieces.
Jeremy Hillary Boob, PhD.: Oh, he does, does he?
Chief Meanie: Yes, I think I'll make a blue burger out of him.
Jeremy Hillary Boob, PhD.: I don't care what you think.
[tries to leave, but the Chief Meanie grabs him]
Chief Meanie: Oh, you don't, eh? We'll soon see about that!
Paul: Let's show him our motor.
John: Steady on! I mean, you don't want to be showing your motor to just anybody.
Paul: Say, Ringo, you're not half the lad you used to be.
Chief Meanie: Are the troops in readiness?
Max: No, Your Blueness!
Chief Meanie: The bonkers?
Chief Meanie: Clowns?
Chief Meanie: Snapping Turks?
Chief Meanie: Anti music missiles?
Chief Meanie: The Dreadful Flying Glove?
Chief Meanie: Splendid! Today Pepperland goes blue-y!
George: [referring to Dr. Jeremy Hillary Boob, Ph.D] A Boob for all seasons!
Old Fred: Now, whatever you do don't touch that button.
Ringo: Which button?
Old Fred: That one.
Ringo: This one?
[Ringo presses the button and is ejected from the submarine, ending up on a creature that gallops away.]
Old Fred: Oops, that was the panic button.
Paul: Poor Ringo.
George: Poor lad, never did no harm to no one.
John: Hey lads, now that Ringo's gone, what are we gonna do?
Old Fred: Learn to sing trios?
Paul: Do you ever get the feeling?
Paul: That things aren't as rosy as they appear to be under the surface?
Lord Mayor: Four scores and 32 bars ago, our four fathers
Old Fred: A quartet?
Lord Mayor: And four mothers
Old Fred: Another quartet?
Lord Mayor: Made their way in this yellow submarine.
Old Fred: What, that little thing?
Lord Mayor: To Pepperland.
Ringo: [seeing Jeremy captured by the Blue Meanies] Jeremy! Can it be you?
Jeremy Hillary Boob, PhD.: Can it be me? I think you had better inquire of the guards, for when I was captured, they took all my cards.
Old Fred: [Ringo is driving the submarine] You've got to steer clear!
Ringo: Steer clear?
Old Fred: Yes, steer. Clear?
Ringo: Yes, steer.
[the Beatles just saw duplicates of themselves in a second yellow submarine]
George: Maybe we're both part of a vast yellow submarine fleet.
Ringo: There's only two of us.
John: Well, then, I would suggest that yonder yellow submarine is none other than ourselves...
Old Fred: Going backwards.
John: In time.
[as the sub travels through the Sea of Time, the Beatles and Old Fred turn smaller and younger because the time is traveling backwards]
George: [as they reduce in size] Hey, look, everything's getting bigger!
John: It's not. It's us that are getting smaller.
George: We're the spitting image of ourselves!
Pepperland George: Golly yeah!
Jeremy: [Describing himself] Eminent physicist, polyglot, classicist, prize-winning botanist, hard-biting satirist, talented pianist, good dentist, too.
John: Lousy poet.
Paul: Gosh, look at all this dust.
[Paul picks some of the dust up]
George: Where does it come from?
Jeremy Hillary Boob, PhD.: A chemical error, I'm quite imprecise. This is a condiment...
Jeremy Hillary Boob, PhD.: ...a spice
Ringo: Ohh. He's right, ya know. It's a pepper.
[John blows the dust off Paul's hand]
Headland Heads: AAA... .AAACHOO!