Alan Bennett: Plays, Volume 2
The guard, an elderly and distinguished-looking West Indian, announces over the Tannoy that this is the 16.45 from Leeds to Kings Cross, the estimated time of arrival 19.15. He adds ‘May the presence of the Lord Jesus Christ be with you and keep you always if you will let him. Thank you.’ Nobody smiles.
Friday, 9 August, London
Dr McGregor sends me for an X-ray to UCH and I go down to Gower Street to make the appointment. I stand at the Enquiry Desk while the plump, unsmiling receptionist elaborately finishes what she is doing before turning her attention to me.
‘Yes?’ She glances at my form. ‘Second floor.’
I long to drag her across the counter and shake her till her dentures drop out. ‘Listen,’ I want to say, ‘you are as essential to the well-being of this hospital as its most exalted consultant. You can do more for the spirits of patients coming to this institution than the most skilful surgeon. Just by being nice. Be nice, you cow.’
I sit upstairs waiting for the next receptionist and realize that this is what we have been acting out, playing at these last two weeks in Liverpool. Here I am with my form, queuing with my docket as we have filmed the claimants queuing with theirs in Prague in 1910. I note that even when we were filming and playing at bureaucracy we fell into its traps. I never had much to do with the extras. I mixed with the actors, who were known to me and who played the officials, the named parts. I kept my distance from the throng of claimants, none of whose names or faces I knew. Indeed I resented them just as the real-life officials must have done and for the same reasons: they crowded the place out, mobbed the coffee urn and generally made life difficult. Well, I reflect, now I am punished.
It is a feature of institutions that the permanent staff resent those for whose benefit the institution exists. And so it will go on, even beyond the grave. I have no doubt that in heaven the angels will regard the blessed as a necessary evil.
The Insurance Man was first broadcast on BBC2 on 23 February 1986. The cast was as follows:
Franz (Old), Trevor Peacock
Doctor, Alan MacNaughtan
Franz (Young), Robert Hines
Landlady, Diana Rayworth
Old Man in Dyeworks, Teddy Turner
Workmen, Phil Hearne, Bernard Wrigley
Factory Doctor, Ronan Wilmot
Nurse, Jill Frudd
Beatrice, Katy Behean
Undermanager, C. J. Allen
Foreman, Fred Gaunt
Christina, Tessa Wojtczak
Christina’s Father, Johnny Allen
Christina’s Mother, Margo Stanley
Christina’s Grandmother, Judith Nelmes
Christina’s Sister, Fran O’Shea
Doorman, Bill Moody
Lily, Vivian Pickles
Inquiries Clerk, Guy Nicholls
Inquiries Official, Alan Starkey
Seamstress, Charlotte Coleman
Collecting Girl, Oona Kirsch
Pohlmann, Tony Haygarth
Gutling, Jim Broadbent
Jam Worker, David Miller
Culick, Hugh Fraser
Head-Bandaged Workman, Ted Carroll
Head of Department, Nicholas Selby
Head Clerk, Richard Kane
Kafka, Daniel Day Lewis
Miss Weber, Rosemary Martin
Butcher Boy, Lee Daley
Limping Client, John de Frates
Tall Woman, Richenda Carey
One-Legged Man, Sam Kelly
Man without Ear, Kenny Ireland
Attendant in Waiting Room, Ted Beyer
Bald Man, Iggy Navarro
Woman in Waiting Room, Rosemary Chamney
Man in Waiting Room, Peter Christian
The Angry Doctor, Geoffrey Palmer
The Thin Doctor, Ralph Nossek
The Fat Doctor, Roger Hammond
Woman at Tribunal, Joanne Ellis
Franz’s Father, Derry Power
Lecturer in Medical School, Benjamin Whitrow
Man with Stomach Hole, Billy Moores
Young Woman in Medical School, Deborah Langley
Kafka’s Brother-in-Law, Toby Salaman
Designer, Geoff Powell
Photography, Nat Crosby
Music, Ilona Sekacz
Producer, Innes Lloyd
Director, Richard Eyre
EXT. STREET. NIGHT
A foreign city. A body hangs from a lamp-post. In the distance the sound of gunfire and bombs falling. Franz (Old) walks down the street past the hanging body to ring the bell at a block of apartments.
INT. DOCTOR’S CONSULTING ROOM, PRAGUE. NIGHT. 1945
An X-ray plate of a pair of damaged lungs. The X-ray fills the screen. Over it we hear the distant sound of bombs falling. Superimposed on the screen over the X-ray plate: Prague, 1945. We see as we pull out that the X-ray plate is being examined by an oldish Doctor in a once well-to-do consulting room. The Doctor is in an overcoat, and it is night. The state of the lungs on the plate obviously depresses him. He shakes his head. A doorbell rings.
Doctor (calling) Lotte! Lotte! (listens, calls again:) Lotte!
When there is no response he gets up to answer the door himself. He goes out and we hear him open the outside door to admit a patient. The outside door closes again. Doctor and Patient ascend the stairs.
(Out of vision.) My housekeeper must be in the cellar. (Into vision.) What is it like breathing?
Franz Well… we’ve been having some cold weather.
Doctor No pain?
Franz Not pain as you’d call pain. In peacetime you might call it pain. These days illness is a luxury. They’ve hung somebody from your lamp-post.
Doctor Last night. Still. We don’t want to lose you, do we?
The remark sounds absurd in the light of someone hanged from the lamp-post outside and there is a pause. The Doctor and Franz come into the consulting room. Both are in their sixties.
Sit down. Get your breath back.
He gets him a drink out of a cabinet. From the way he pours it, it is obviously precious.
Franz (indicating the drink) Does this mean bad news?
The Doctor smiles.
Doctor We might as well drink it. Before the Russians do.
The patient, Franz, is a plain-spoken man but he has done quite well in life. The Doctor pauses.
Franz Was it what you suspected?
Doctor (lying) Don’t know. Never had the X-ray. Infirmary got cut off. (Shrugs.) Still… I’m pretty sure it’s what I said it was, just a fibrous condition of the lungs. Nothing malignant.
Franz So I’m not going to die.
There is a loud crump in the distance as a bomb explodes.
Doctor You have to live long enough to be able to die. No. You could go on for years. You could be lucky and live to be hung from a lamp-post.
Franz Funny, you come along thinking this is the Day of Judgement and it never is.
Doctor Or it always is. Tell me, out of sheer curiosity, what other jobs have you done, apart from the railway?
Franz Apart from the railway? Nothing. I started as a porter, I ended up Stationmaster of the Central Station.
Doctor Nothing else?
Franz I was in a dyeworks once. For about five minutes.
Doctor A dyeworks?
Franz When I was young. We’re talking about before the First War now. Terrible place. It’s funny. I thought I was a goner then.
INT. A ROOM IN A CHEAP LODGING HOUSE. EARLY MORNING. 1910.
Franz as a young man lying in bed awake.
Franz (Old) (voice over) I’d just got engaged and I woke up one fine morning and found there was a strange patch on my skin.
He gets up and stands naked in front of the mirror, looking at something on his chest that we do not see. He frowns. There is a picture of a young woman on the dressing-table. There is a very quiet knock on the door. Franz clutches his clothes to him.
Franz (Young) Don’t come in.
Landlady (out of vision) Why?
We see the door open and a cup and saucer appear round the edge of the door, followed by the Landlady, carrying a coffee pot in the other hand.
You can’t show me anything new. My husband was in the armed forces. (Pours the coffee.) I’m not sure I like all this coming and going last thing at night. You’ll need all your energy to get on in life.
She puts the cup down on the dressing-table.
Franz We’re going to be married.
Landlady (going) This room used to be let to a fully fledged optician. He was quite alone. He had diplomas.
Back in the room Franz looks glumly in the glass. He moves the girl’s photograph back a little, looks at it, then at his chest.
INT. A DYEWORKS. DAY
Franz (Old) (voice over, across change of scene) I didn’t dare tell my fiancée and to begin with I didn’t let on to anybody. I was just hoping it would go away. Only it didn’t; it got worse.
Close-up of cloth being dipped in dye bath. Then reveal dyeworks. A Workman comes up to say something to an Old Man who is working at the dye bath. We track the Workman walking along the floor of the dyeworks, followed by an Old Man. They come through the works, and the Old Man goes into a lavatory while the Workman keeps cave outside.
Old Man (out of vision) Does it itch?
Franz (Young) (out of vision) No.
We stay outside until another Workman goes in for a piss. We follow him and see Franz with the top of his overalls rolled down, his shirt off and the Old Man peering at his skin and belly. All this is watched by the Second Workman, who is pissing.
Old Man Funny process, dyeing. Saw a lad once, scales from there down. Ended up spending the whole day in the bath. Slept in it. That were t’dye. Went to the board with it. They just pretended it was something in the family.
The Old Man touches the patch of skin with his dye- discoloured hand. The Old Man spits.
Have you reported it?
Franz shakes his head.
Factory Doctor (voice over) Dyeing won’t do you any harm …
Cut from the noise of the dyeworks to the relative silence of:
INT. A CHEAP SURGERY OR MEDICAL ROOM, DYEWORKS. DAY
Four or five Factory Workers are waiting outside. One has his boot off, which he holds in his hand. Another holds a pad, made of his handkerchief against some small wound. Others just sit. We follow a Foreman past them and into the surgery.
Factory Doctor (voice over)… Does it itch?
Franz No, sir.
Factory Doctor (in vision, looking as ill as any of the patients) Sore?
Franz No, sir.
Factory Doctor Have you been doing something that you shouldn’t be doing?
Franz No, sir.
Factory Doctor (mimicking him) ‘No, sir. No, sir.’
The Foreman is watching the examination.
Bit on your back. Take off your trousers. Come on.
The Nurse has been taking an interest, while bandaging another Patient.
Nurse (pointing to Franz’s legs.) There’s some.
Factory Doctor Oh, by God. We’re all doctors now.
Nurse His proper skin’s lovely.
Franz And it isn’t to do with the dye?
Factory Doctor Well. Nobody else has it. Don’t blame the dye. Blame yourself.
The Doctor exits.
Nurse He’s only young.
Franz pulls up his trousers and turns to face the Foreman.
INT. UNDERMANAGER’S OFFICE, DYEWORKS. DAY
An office adjoining the factory floor. We are in the outer office and can see through a dusty window the inner office where the Undermanager is talking to the Foreman. The Undermanager is holding some papers. Franz sits in the outer office. A pretty secretary, Beatrice, enters with a bunch of cornflowers. She is conscious of Franz but wary of her boss next door.
Beatrice You’re insured.
Franz looks up, not sure what she’s said. She doesn’t look at him.
(putting flowers in vase) These are cornflowers. I love blue. You’re insured. Ask.
At which point the Undermanager and the Foreman come into the room, and she goes over to sit at her deskand starts writing in a ledger.
Undermanager (holding a docket) Take this along to the cashier.
Franz I haven’t done anything, sir. What have I done?
Undermanager We’re not ungenerous. You’ve got your full bonus.
Franz is reluctant to take the docket.
Foreman There’s generally a whip round.
Undermanager Something like that. I’ve got my other workpeople to consider.
Foreman (easing him out) Come on, lad. Have you got aught in your locker?
They go. The Girl’s face is expressionless as she goes on working.
Undermanager I don’t know what he’s been doing. I’d’ve thought it was simple cleanliness.
Suddenly Franz comes back into the room with the Foreman trying to stop him.
Franz I want to ask about insurance.
Beatrice rises.
Foreman I never said anything.
The Girl has instinctively walked across to open a cupboard door to get a form and the Undermanager catches her movement.
Undermanager It doesn’t apply. Beatrice. It doesn’t apply.
She has her hand on the cupboard door. Franz and Beatrice look at each other.
INT. GYMNASIUM. DAY
Franz (Young) is in long trousers, and a singlet. He is exercising on some hanging rings. He checks his chest to see how much of the rash shows, then continues to exercise on the hanging rings. He does beautiful handstands and somersaults on the rings in the gym.
Franz (Old) (voice over) When you’re young, you don’t give your body a thought. Now I was thinking about nothing else, but yet it was as if it didn’t belong to me. I wasn’t myself any more.
INT. CHRISTINA’S PARENTS’ APARTMENT, NIGHT
A formal supper. Franz (Young) and his fiancée Christina with her Parents. The atmosphere is strained. Nobody is talking. The family is obviously socially one jump above Franz. Any conversation is in undertones. An incongruous note at the dinner table is an Old Lady who has to be fed. Another Daughter puts food into the Old Lady’s mouth. Franz is trying to hide his diseased hand and so is trying to eat with just his fork. Christina notices this just as he crams an overlarge piece of meat into his mouth because he cannot cut it.
Father I’m enjoying this, Mother.
Mother Does Franz want some more, Christina?
Father I think he’s old enough to speak for himself, Mother, don’t you? One of the family now.
Franz (Old) (voice over, above the following dialogue) I had to keep my skin to myself –I felt like an animal and I hadn’t told my fiancée I’d lost my job; I daren’t.
Mother (to the other Daughter who is feeding the Old Lady) Don’t rush her, Rosa. One mouthful at a time.
Father That’s right. Just take your time. Take your time. It’s like everything else. Just take your time.
Christina discreetly tries to get Franz to use his knife but he ignores her.
INT. FRANZ’S LODGING/TUNNEL. NIGHT
Franz’s suit hung over the wardrobe mirror. Franz (Young) in bed, not asleep. We see him reflected in the mirror. Zoom into mirror and mix to: Franz (Young) in silhouette walking down a tunnel.
Franz (Old) (voice over) The girl in the office had given me a form. She said I had a claim. I had to take the form to the Workers Accident Insurance Institute on Poric Street. Gone now. Though the building’s still there. That building!
EXT. OFFICE BLOCK, PORIC STREET, PRAGUE. DAY
A large nineteenth-century office block. The Town Hall clock is striking. The office has steps leading up to the doors. Franz (Young) comes out of the tunnel opposite and joins the throng walking up the stairs on their way into the building. There is one main door and smaller ones on either side. Before the main door is an imposing Doorman.
Doorman (shouting to a man on crutches) Just because you’ve got one leg do
esn’t mean you can behave like a wild beast… (to other Claimants who approach him with forms and chits) Look. I’m not interested in bits of paper. Wipe your feet, wipe your feet. You’re not coming into the factory now.
Franz tries to go in the central door.
Oi, this isn’t your door. That’s your door.
The Doorman shoves Franz in the direction of the other door, while letting the Head of Department and Head Clerk pass through unhindered. He also lets through another official, whom we will later discover to be Kafka. He is treated very deferentially by the Doorman.
Morning, Herr Doktor.
INT. ENTRANCE HALL/CORRIDOR AND MAIN HALL, OFFICE BLOCK. DAY
We follow Franz into the building, where there is a good deal of bustle.
Doorman (out of vision) Out of the way. Out of the way.
We see Clerks arriving for work, Workmen, some of them maimed, and Kafka threading his way through and going up some stairs in the background. Among those entering we should see a Butcher’s Boy with a bandaged hand and other injured parties who will figure later in offices and corridors upstairs, including a man who is utterly bald, a man with one leg, and a woman with a scarred face. They all teem along a corridor and enter a huge hall. We follow Franz as a uniformed official points him to a bench just outside an inquiries window. The door of this should go up and down like a rat-trap. Any odd Alice in Wonderland features like this should be emphasized. One or two people are sitting waiting outside the inquiries window. Next to Franz is a middle-aged woman, Lily.
Franz Am I in the right place?
Lily They like you to wait.
The trap suddenly goes up and a Clerk rings a bell. The first person in the queue goes up to the window.
(to Franz) He’s slipped up. You never want to be first. You’re better off in the middle. Try and be routine. (Pause.) I don’t even wear my glasses. You don’t want a face anybody remembers. These are my documents.
She is holding a folder.
I crocheted the cover myself. I shall be all right today. (indicating the official at the window) My friend’s on. He’s very refined, I’ve seen him in a café. There’s the Tribunal.
While Lily is talking, Three Distinguished Figures pass through the hall.