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Monty Python Live at the Hollywood Bowl

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29,97 fps
Sit on my face, |and tell me that you love me
I'll sit on your face |and tell you I love you, too.
I love to hear you oralize
When I'm between your thighs
You blow me away
Sit on my face |and let my lips embrace you
I'll sit on your face |and then I'll love you truly.
Life can be fine if we're both 69
If we sit on our faces| at losses of places and play
'Till we're blown away
Hello, good evening and welcome| to the Ronald Reagan Memorial Bowl,
here in the pretty little| L.A. suburb of Hollywood.
Well, we're about to go in all for wrestling,| brought to you tonight,
ladies and gentlemen,| by the makers of Scum,
the world's first ever combined| hair oil, foot ointment, and salad dressing.
And the makers of Titan,| the novelty nuclear missile!
You never know when it'll go off!
Surprise your friends,| amuse your enemies,
start the party with a bang!
Introducing, ladies and gentlemen,| tonight,
all the way from a mudwrestling tour| of the OPEC countries...
in the red corner: |Colin "Bomber" Harris!...
and, ladies and gentlemen,| in the blue corner...
all the way from a mudwrestling tour| of the OPEC countries...
Colin "Bomber" Harris!
Well, now, ladies and gentlemen,| this is the first time
that Colin "Bomber" Harris| has met himself.
A few formalities now, |any moment we're out,
we'll be ready |for the start of Round One.
There goes the bell!
Colin moves to| the middle of the ring there,
he's looking for an opening,| going for the handhold...
He's got it! |Into the headsqueeze...
A headsqueeze there...
A favorite... |...a favorite move of Colin's...
...flying there...
...and already Colin is... |working on that weak left knee of his!
A half nelson...|a half nelson and a Philadelphia Hamilton
and Colin bit himself on purpose there,
and he has been given| a public warning by the referee,
and Colin did not like| that one little bit!
Double overhead nostril...
...backkick and into the,| ah, Boston crayfish,
no, it's a crawlfish, |or is it a longestine, no, it's a longestine!
A lovely move there!
He's caught himself by surprise|and this is the first fall
to Colin "Bomber" Harris!
Swell! A lovely move there!
And Colin must be|pretty pleased with himself
having put himself up with that one!
A strawberry whip, |a vanilla whip, a chocolate whip...
there it is, |Colin's most famous hold:
the one-neck-over-shoulder-Gerry Ford |and Colin's in real trouble!
He's just made it to the rope...|just a little lucky there...
...and there it is, a double Eydie Gorm| should be able to twist...
and he does...|but he's looking pretty groggy...
and I think he's caught himself.
Colin "Bomber" Harris has| knocked himself out
and so he is the winner
and he goes on next week| to meet himself in the final!
Never be rude to an Arab
An Israeli or Saudi or Jew
Never be rude to an Irishman
No matter what you do
Never pull fun at a nigger
A Spic or a Wop or a Kraut
And never poke fun at a...
Michelangelo to see you,| your Holiness.
Who?
Michelangelo, the famous renaissance|artist whose best known works include
the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel,| and the celebrated statue of David.
Ah. Very well...
In 1514 he returned |to Florence and de...
All right, that's enough, |that's enough, they've got it now!
Good evening, your Holiness.
Evening, Michelangelo. |I want to have a word with you
about this painting of yours,| "The Last Supper."
Oh, yeah?
I'm not happy about it.
Oh, dear. |It took me hours.
Not happy at all.
Is it the jello you don't like?
No.
Ah, no, I know, they do have| a bit of colour, don't they?
Oh, I know, you don't like| the kangaroo?
What kangaroo?
No problem, |I'll paint him out.
I never saw a kangaroo!
Uuh...he's right in the back.| I'll paint him out!
No sweat, I'll make him into a disciple.
Aah.
All right?
That's the problem.
What is?
The disciples.
Are they too Jewish?|I made Judas the most Jewish.
No, it's just that |there are twenty-eight of them.
Oh, well, |another one will never matter,
I'll make the kangaroo| into another one.
No, that's not the point.
All right. I'll lose the kangaroo. |Be honest,I wasn't perfectly happy with it.
That's not the point. |There are twenty-eight disciples!
Too many?
Well, of course it's too many!
Yeah, I know that, but I wanted to give| the impression of a real last supper.
You know, not just any old last supper.| Not like a last meal or a final snack.
But you know, |I wanted to give the impression
of a real mother of a blow-out,| you know?
There were only |twelve disciples at the last supper.
Well, maybe some of |the others came along afterw...
There were only twelve altogether.
Well, maybe some of their friends| came by, you know?
Look! There were just twelve disciples| and our Lord at the last supper.
The Bible clearly says so.
- No friends? |- No friends.
- Waiters?| - No
- Cabaret?| - No!
You see, I like them, |they help to flesh out the scene,
I could lose a few, |you know I could...
Look! There were only| twelve disciples at...
I've got it! I've got it!| We'll call it "The Last But One Supper"!
What?
Well there must have been one,
if there was a last supper, |there must have been a one before that,
so this, is the "Penultimate Supper"!
The Bible doesn't say |how many people were there, does it?
No, but...
Well there you are, then!
Look! The last supper is a significant|event in the life of our Lord,
the penultimate supper was not!
Even if they had a conjurer| and a mariachi band.
Now, a last supper I commissioned|from you, and a last supper I want!
With twelve disciples| and one Christ!
One?!
Yes one! Now will you please tell me
what in God's name possessed you
to paint this |with three Christs in it?
It works, mate!
Works?
Yeah! It looks great! |The fat one balances the two skinny ones.
There was only one Redeemer!
Ah, I know that, we all know that,| what about a bit of artistic license?
A one Messiah is what I want!
I'll tell you what you want, mate!
You want a bloody photographer!| That's you want.
Not a bloody creative artist| to crease you up...
I'll tell you what I want!|I want a last supper
with one Christ, twelve disciples,
no kangaroos, no trampoline acts,
by Thursday lunch,| or you don't get paid!
Bloody fascist!
Look! I'm the bloody pope, I am!
May not know much about art,| but I know what I like!
Never be rude to a polack...
Hello, and welcome to Munich,| for the 27th Silly Olympiad,
an event held traditionally |every 3.7 years,
which this year has |brought together competitors
from over 4 million |different countries.
And here we are at the start |of the first event of the afternoon:
the second semifinal| of the 100 yards
for people| with no sense of direction.
Aah, i'll just give you |the competitors:
Lane One:| Kolomovski of Poland;
Lane Two: |Zatapatique of France;
Lane Three: |Gropovich of the United States,
next to him: |Drabble of Trinidad,
next to him: |Fernandez of Spain,
and in the outside lane: |Bormann of Brazil!
Get set!
Well, that was fun, wasn't it?
And now, over to the other end of the stadium.
And here they're just waiting for |the start of the 1500 meters for the deaf.
And they're on the starter's orders.
Well, we'll be coming back |the moment there's any action.
And now over to the swimming.
And you join us here
at the Bundesabsurd pool| just in time to see the start
of the 200 meters freestyle| for non-swimmers.
Watch for the| top Australian champion
Ron Barnett in the second lane.
Well, we'll be |bringing you back here
the moment they start |fishing the corpses up.
And now over to the Hansklein
for the start of the |marathon for incontinents.
Well, we put in for this event
44 competitors| from 29 different countries,
all of them with the most |superbly weak bladders.
Not a tight slinter in sight. |Ready to embark, nevertheless,
on the world's longest race |and they're just aching to go!
On your marks! Get set!
And they're off! |They're off! Well...
Well, back at the 1500 meters
and the starter's putting up| a magnificent show!
We've had scattered random fire, |fuselage firing.
It's enough to make you |chew your own foot off!
And now the high jump!
Katerina Ovelenskij, |Soviet Union!
But what a jump! |What a jump!
That got to be a record!
And here we are at the |3000 meter steeplechase
for people who think| they're chickens!
There's Samuelsson |of the United States,
and over there is Klaus |of East Germany!
He's been there for |the last three olympics.
There's the leader, |Abe Seagull of Canada
Very good start |wait to the water jump,
and has now gone loopy.
Now we are back with the marathon |for incontinents once again.
There's Polinski |of Poland in the lead,
and-and now Brewer| of Australia is taking over!
And so now it is Alvarez of Cuba,| followed by the Norwegian Borg.
Now it's Blankievic, |Blankievic from Yugoslavia
Well, well, these must be |some of the weakest bladders ever
to represent their country!
And now, let's have a look back |at what's going on down on stage!
Good evening, ladies and bruces!
- Hello, Bruce. |- Hello, Bruce.
- Hello, Bruce. |- Hey, Bruce.
What's all this lot, Bruce?
It's very nice to be here| at the Hollywood Bowl this evening!
We're all philosophy professors
from the University of |Wooloomooloo, Australia!
Hey, Australia, Australia, |Australia! God love ya!
I teach Hegelian philosophy,
Bruce here teaches |Aristotolean philosophy,
and Bruce here is in charge| of the sheep dip.
Bloody difficult work, |I tell ya!
I'll tell you what is thirsty work| watching this garn of human.
Bruce, why don't you| just stick out
a few of these little |free examples from your...
All right! Now, the reason |we do this, ladies and bruces,
is frankly over here |we find your American beer
is a little like making love in a canoe!
Making love in a canoe?
It's fucking close to water!
Well now, we're going to try |and raise the tone a little here
by singing a nice |intellectual song for those
two or three of you| in the audience...
Right!
...who understand these things. |So, here we go!
Immanuel Kant was a real pissant
Who was very rarely stable
Heidegger, Heidegger was a boozy beggar
Who could think you under the table
David Hume could out-consume
Schopenhauer and Hegel
And Wittgenstein was a beery swine
Who was just as sloshed as Schlegel
There's nothing Nietszche couldn't teach ya
'Bout the raising of the wrist
Socrates himself was permanently pissed
How do you like that? All right!
Let's hold it a second.
I can see some of these bruces are
in a bit of a playful mood tonight.
- Ain't that, Bruce? | - Yeah, Bruce.
Some of the ones that don't| have straws up their nose.
Anyway, why don't we |do something rather...
Why don't we get |some of these guys
to sing along with us?
Ok, I've got the words somewhere.
Right! Ready!
Immanuel Kant was a real pissant
Who was very rarely stable
Heidegger, Heidegger was a boozy...
They're a typical Hollywood audience!
All the kids are on drugs,
and all the adults are on roller skates!
Have we got any...|have we got anything bigger
to put the words up for these
rather shortsighted people?
This is Bruce from |the Biology Department.
All right. Okay, here we go.
Immanuel Kant was a real pissant
Who was very rarely stable |- Come on!
Heidegger, Heidegger was a boozy beggar
Who could take you under the table
David Hume could out-consume
Schopenhauer and Hegel
And Wittgenstein was a beery swine
Who was just as sloshed as Schlegel
There's nothing Nietszche couldn't teach ya
'Bout the raising of the wrist
Socrates himself was permanently pissed
John Stuart Mill of his own free will
On half a pint of shandy was particularly ill
Plato they say could stick it away
Half a crate of whiskey every day
Aristotle, Aristotle was a buggar for the bottle
Hobbes was fond of his Dram
And Rene Descartes was a drunken fart
"I drink, therefore I am !"
Yes Socrates himself is particularly missed
A lovely little thinker
But a bugger when he's pissed.
Good morning. |I'm sorry to have kept you waiting,
but I'm afraid my walk has become|rather silly over these months,
so it takes so long |to get to the office.
Now,uhm, what was it again?
Uh, well sir,| I-I-I I have got a silly walk
and I'd like to obtain government| backing to help me develop it.
I see. Well, may I see |this silly walk of yours?
Oh, yes, certainly.
Yes, I see, |tha-tha-that's it, is it?
Ah, well, yes, that's it.
Yes, yes, yes. |It's not particularly silly, is it?
Well, ah-ah...
I mean, the left leg isn't silly at all
and the right leg merely does| a four dare O'Brian half turn
every alternate step.
Yes, but I feel with a federal grant| I could make it a lot more silly.
Mr. Stagback, the very real |problem is what I find out.
You see, |there's defense, education, housing,
health, social security, silly walks.
They're all supposed |to get the same.
But last year the government| spent less on Silly Walks
than they did on| industrial reorganisation.
We're supposed to get| 348 millions pounds a year
to cover our entire |Silly Walks proposal.
- Coffee? | - Yes, please.
Hello, Mrs. Twolumps, could we have |two cups of coffee, please.
Yes, Mr. Teabag.
Mad as a hatter.
You see, |the Israelis they have a man
who can take his own left leg off| and swallow it with every alternate step,
whereas the Japanese, |cunning electronically obsessed little...
Yes, thank you, |Mrs. Twolumps.
You're...you're really interested| in silly walks, aren't you?
Right there!
Right, well,| take a look at this!
Ooh, that bit of a morning |in the high court!
Oh, oh!
Oh, I could stamp |my little feet
at the way those counsels |are carrying on.
Oh, don't tell me, love.
Oh, dear, |objection here, objection there.
And that nice policeman |giving his evidence so well!
- Oh, ah. |- Beautiful speaking voice.
And what a body!
- Oh, yeah.| - Oh, yeah. Ooh, ah.
Well, after a bit |all I could do was bang me gavel.
You what, love?
- I banged me gavel!|- Oh, get away!
- I did! | - Ooh!
- I did my "silence in court" bit.| - Oh.
If looks could have killed,
that prosecuting counsel |would have been in for thirty years.
- Hum-hum! |- How did your summing-up go?
Uh, well, I did my box voice, you know,| "what the jury must understand",
and they loved it! | - Ah.
I could see that little curly-headed| foreman of the jury eyeing me!
- Really?| - Oh, yeah. Cheating devil.
I finished up with, |I got really strict:
"The actions of these vicious men |are a violent state upon the community
and the four pounds of the law| is scarcely sufficient
to deal with their ghastly crimes!" |- Oh, yeah?
And I waggled me wig! Whoaaoha!
- You waggled you what? |- I waggled me wig!
Really?
- Ah, the only thing I waggled!|- Ooh...
- Ever so slightly, stood in effect.|- Ooh!
Anyway, I gave him three years. |Merely took ten minutes.
Ooh...well, as I said to Melvin Belly| the other day, you know:
"You can put it |in the hand of your attorneys,
but it'll never |stand up in court!"
Good evening.
Tonight on World Forum| we are deeply privileged
to have with us Karl Marx, |the founder of modern socialism
and author of| the Communist Manifesto,
Vladimir Ilitch Ulyanov,
better known to the world as Lenin,
leader of the Russian Revolution,
writer, statesman, |and father of modern socialism,
Che Guevara, |the Bolivian guerilla leader,
and Mao Tse-tung,
chairman of the Chinese| Communist Party since 1949.
And the first question| is for you, Karl Marx.
"The Hammers."
"The Hammers" is the nickname| of what English football team?
"The Hammers." No? |Well, bad luck, Karl.
It is, in fact, |West Ham United.
Now, Che Guevara.| Che...
Coventry City last won |the English football cup in what year?
No? I can tell no further question.| Anybody else?
Coventry City last won| the English Football Cup in what year?
No, I'm not surprised| you didn't get that.
It is in fact a trick question.
Coventry City have never won |the English Football Cup.
So now with the scores all even,| it's on to Round 2,
and Lenin, you start at the $10.
Jerry Lee Lewis has had
over 17 major solid gold hits| in the U.S. of A.
What's the name of the biggest?
Jerry Lee Lewis' solid gold biggie? |No?
Yes, Mao Tse-tung?
"Great Balls of Fire?"
Yes, it was indeed!
Very well challenged.
Well, now we come on| to our third round.
Our contestant tonight| is Karl Marx
and our special prize is| this beautiful lounge suite!
Uh, Karl has elected| to answer questions
on workers' control of factories,
so here we go |with question number one.
You, nervous, Karl?| Just a little.
Well, never mind pal, |have a go!
The development| of the industrial proletariat
is conditioned by |what other development?
The development of| the industrial bourgeoisie.
Good! Yes, it is indeed!| Well done, Karl!
You're on your way| to a lounge suite!
Now Karl, number two.
The struggle of class |against class
is a what struggle?
A political struggle.
Good! Yes, it is indeed. |Well done, Karl!
One final question, |and that beautiful
non-materialistic |lounge suite will be yours!
Ready, Karl? |You're a brave man.
Your final question:
Who won the English |Football Cup in 1949?
Uhuh, the workers' control| of means of production?
The-the struggle of |the urban proletariat?
Uh, no, it was| Wolverhampton Wanderers
who beat Leicester 3-1.
Oh, shit!
Get out of here!
Well, no one leaves |this show empty-handed,
so we're gonna| cut off his hands.
Well, now it's talent spotting time, |ladies and gentlemen,
and please see| if you can spot any talent
in our next competitors?
Will you please| give a very big hand
and a warm welcome| to Carl Weetabix and Rita!
I'm the urban spaceman, baby,
I've got speed,| I've got everything I need
I'm the urban spaceman, baby,
I couldn't fly,| I'm a supersonic guy
I don't need pleasure, |I don't feel pain,
if you were to knock me down,| I'd just get up again
I'm the urban spaceman, baby,
I'm making out, I'm all about
I wake up every morning |with a smile upon my face
My natural exuberance |spills out all over the place
I'm the urban spaceman, baby,
I'm intelligent and clean,| know what I mean
I'm the urban spaceman,
as you lovers second to none, |it's a lot of fun
I never let my friends down,
I could have made a boop
I'm a glossy magazine, |an advert on the tube
I'm the urban spaceman, baby,
here comes the twist
I don't exist
- Mr. Hilton?|- Ah, yes.
You are sole proprietor and owner
of the Whizzo Chocolate Company?|- I am.
Constable Parrot and I |are from the Hygiene Squad...
- Oh, yes. |- ...and we'd like to have a word with you
about your box of chocolates entitled| "The Whizzo Quality Assortment."
Ah, good, yes.
If I may begin at the beginning. |First, there is the Cherry Fondue.
Now this is extremely nasty, |but we can't prosecute you for that!
Agreed.
Next we have number four, |"Crunchy Frog."
Ah, yes.
Am I right in thinking |there's a real frog in here?
Yes, a little one.
- Is it cooked? |- No.
What? A raw frog?
We use only the finest baby frogs,| due picked and flown from Iraq,
cleansed in the finest quality |spring water, lightly killed,
and sealed in a |milk chocolate envelope,
and lovingly frosted| with glucose!
That's as maybe, |but it's still a frog!
What else would it be?
What! Don't even |take the bones out?
If we took the bones out, |it wouldn't be crunchy, would it?
Constable Parrot |ate one of those!
Would you excuse me |for a moment, sir?
Yes.
Well, it says "Crunchy Frog"| quite clearly.
They'll never mind that. |We have to protect the public.
People aren't going to think |there's a real frog in chocolate.
The superintendent thought |it was ----.
They're bound to think |it's some sort of mock frog.
Mock frog?!
We use no artificial preservatives| or additives of any kind!
Nevertheless, I advise you to in future| change the words "Crunchy Frog"
with the legend "Crunchy, raw, |unboned, real, dead frog"
if you want to avoid prosecution.
What about our sales?
I don't give a damn about your sales.| We have to protect the public!
Now, what was this one? |Number five.
It was number five, wasn't it?
Number five: "Ram's Bladder Cup!"
Now what kind of confection is this?
We use choices to juicy chunks|of fresh Cornish ram's bladder,
emptied, steamed,|flavored with sesame seeds,
whipped into a fondue,|and garnished with larks' vomit!
- Larks' vomit?|- Correct.
It doesn't say anything |down here about larks' vomit!
Ah, yes, it does, |on the bottom of the box,
after monosodium glutamate.
I hardly think this is good enough!| It would be more appropriate
if the box bore a big red label.| "Warning: Larks' Vomit!"
Our sales would plummet!
Well, why don't you move into |more conventional areas of confectionery,
like praline or lime cream, a very|popular flavor I'm met to understand,
or Strawberry Delight? |I mean, what's this one?
"Cockroach Cluster?"
And this, "Anthrax Ripple?"
And what's this one, |"Spring Surprise?"
Aaah, that's our speciality!
Covered in darkest, dowdy, smooth chocolate,
when you pop it in your mouth,
stainless steel bolts sprint out|and punch straight through both cheeks!
If people pop a nice chocky| in their mouth
they don't expect to get| their cheeks pierced!
In any case, it is an inadequate| description of the sweet in it!
I shall have to ask you |to accompany me to the station.
- It's a fair cop. |- And don't talk to the audience!
Albatross!
Albatross!
Albatross!
You're not supposed| to be smoking that!
Albatross! Don't take them!
What flavor is it?| What flavor is it?
Seagullsickle!
Pelican-bonbon!
Albatross!
Could I have...
Could I have |two ice-creams, please?
I haven't got any ice-creams,| I just got this albatross!
Albatross!
Uh, what flavor is it?
Well, it is an albatross, isn't it? |There's no bloody flavor!
Albatross!
There's gotta be some flavor, |I mean everything's got a flavor
All right, all right! |It's bloody albatross flavor!
Bleedin' seabird, |bleedin' flavor! Albatross!
Do you get wafers with it?
Of course you don't have| fucking wafers with it, you cunt!
It's a fucking albatross,| I mean...
Stop that! Stop that!| It's filthy!
Come along! |Right now, we need you!
The one in the black, we need you| for another skit on stage.
And you, get off! |You're not even a proper woman!
Don't you oppress me, mate!
What are you trying to do?| Avoid registration or something?
Bleedin' sexist!
Come on, we need you| for a skit!
No one enjoys a good |laugh more than I do.
Except perhaps for my wife| and some of her friends.
Oh, yes, and Captain Johnson.
Come to think of it,| most people enjoy
a good laugh more than I do,| but that's beside the point.
Right! Let's get on| with this skit!
Where's the other |person for this skit?
Right, you want to sit in that chair?| And...cue...the...skit!
Evening, squire!
Good evening.
Is your...is your wife a goer? Eh? |Know what I mean? Know what I mean?
Nudge, nudge! Know what I mean? |Say no more!
I-I...I beg your pardon?
Your...your wife.
Does she go,eh?| Does she go, eh? Eh?
Huh, sometimes she has to go, yes.
I bet she does! I bet she does! |Say no more! Say no more!
Know what I mean? Nudge, nudge!
I'm afraid I don't quite follow you
Oh, "follow me, follow me"? |That's good, that's very good!
A nod's as good |as a wink to a blind bat!
Are...are you selling something?
"Selling, selling"...very good indeed!| You're wicked, you are, eh?
Wicked, eh? Ho-ho-ho!
Whoa! Wicked!
Say no more!
Whoa! So your wife's |interested in...in sport? Eh?
Ah, she likes sport, yes.
I bet she does! I bet she does!
As a matter of fact, |she's very fond of cricket.
She likes "games", eh? |Likes "games"?
Knew she would, |she's been around a bit, eh?
- She's been around?|- Well, she has travelled, yes.
She's from Glendale.
Say no more!
Glendale, squire?
Say no more! Say no more! |Say no more! Say no more!
Well...
Is your...is your |Glendale wife interested in...
photography? Eh? Eh? Eh?
Photography?
"Photographs, eh?" |he asked him knowingly!
Photography?
Snap, snap, grin, grin, wing, wing,| nudge, nudge, say no more!
Sort of...holiday snaps, eh?
They could be, they could be |taken on holiday, you know!
Swimming costumes, candid...|you know, "candid" photography?
No, we don't have a camera!
Ah. Still, whoahaah! Eh? Whoahaah! |Eh? Whoahaah!
Eh? Whoahaahaha! Huhuh!
Look, are you |insinuating something?
Oh, no, no, no
...yes!
Well?
Why, I mean, you're a man| of the world, squire, you know...
you're...you've been around, you know?
What do you mean?
Well, I mean, like, you've...|you know, you...like...
you've done it, you know...|you've slept...
with a lady?
Yes.
What's it like?
Good afternoon,
and welcome to a |packed Olympic stadium
in Munchen for the second leg| of this exciting final.
And here comes the Germans now,| led by their skipper "Lobby" Hegel.
They must truly be favorites| this afternoon.
They've certainly attracted |the most attention from the press
with their team problems.
And let's now see |their line-up :
The Germans playing 4-2-4,
Leibniz in goal,
back four Kant, Hegel, |Schopenhauer and Schelling,
front runners Schlegel, Wittgenstein,| Nietzsche and Heidegger,
and the midfield duo |of Beckenbauer and Jaspers.
Beckenbauer obviously |a bit of a surprise there.
And here come the Greeks,
led off by their veteran |centerhalf Herakleitos.
Let's look at their team :
As it's expected |it's a much more defensive line-up.
Plato's in goal, |Socrates is a front runner there,
and Aristotle as sweeper. |Aristotle, very much the man in form.
One surprise is |the inclusion of Archimedes.
Well, here comes the referee: |Con-Fu-Cu, Confucius
and his two linesmen, |St. Augustian and St. Thomas Acquinus.
And as the two skippers |come together to shake hands
we're ready for the start|of this very exciting final..
The referee, Mr. Confucius,| checks his hand...
...and...they're off!
Nietzsche and Hegel there,
old Jaspers, number seven, |on the outside,
Wittgenstein there with him,
there's Beckenbauer,
Schelling there,
Heidegger covering, |Schopenhauer,
and now it's the Greeks.
Epikuros, we find him number six,
Aristotle, Empedokles |and Deraklites,
and Demokrites with him,| there's Archimedes, Socrates,
there he is, Socrates,
Socrates there going through...
there's the ball, there's the ball.
We'll be bringing you back |to this exciting contest
the moment anything |interesting happens.
Very fussable, isn't it?|Very fussable.
Right, all right.
Good glass of Château de Chasselas,|ain't just that, sire?
Oh, you're right there, Obadiah.
Right.
Who would have thought,| thirty years ago,
we'd all be sitting here |drinking Chateau de Chaselet, eh?
Aye, aye.
Them days we were glad to have| the price of a cup of tea.
- Right! A cup of cold tea! |- Right!
Without milk or sugar!
Or tea!
In a cracked cup and all.
Oh, we never used to have a cup!
We used to have to drink out| of a rolled-up newspaper!
The best we could manage was |to suck on a piece of damp cloth.
But you know, we were happy |in those days, although we were poor.
- Because we were poor! |- Right!
My old dad used to say to me:
"Money doesn't bring you |happiness, son!"
- He was right! |- Right!
I was happier then and I had nothing!
We used to live in this |tiny old tumbled-down house
with great big holes in the roof.
House!
You were lucky to live in a house!| We used to live in one room,
all twentysix of us, no furniture,| half the floor was missing,
we were all huddled together |in one corner for fear of falling.
You were lucky to have a room!| We used to have to live in the corridor!
Oh, we used to dream of |living in a corridor!
Would have been a palace to us!
We used to live in |an old watertank on a rubbish tip.
We'd all woke up every morning |by having a load of rotten fish
dumped all over us!
House, huh!
Well, when I say a house, |it was just a hole in the ground,
covered by a sheet of tarpaulin,| but it was a house to us!
We were evicted from our hole in the ground. |We had to go and live in a lake!
You were lucky to have a lake!
There were 150 of us living in a shoebox| in the middle of the road!
- A cardboard box? |- Aye!
You were lucky!
We lived for three months in a|rolled-up newspaper in a septic tank!
We used to have to go up every morning,| at six o'clock and clean the newspaper,
go to work down the mill,| fourteen hours a day,
week in, week out, for six pence a week,| and when we got home,
our dad would slash us to sleep| with his belt!
Luxury!
We used to have|to get up out of the lake
at three o'clock in the morning,|clean the lake, eat a handful of hot grubble,
work twenty hours a day at mill,|for two pence a month, come home,
and dad would beat us |around the head and neck
with a broken bottle,| if we were lucky!
Well, of course, we had it tough!
We used to have to get up out of |the shoebox in the middle of the night,
and lick the road clean| with our tongues!
We had to eat half a handful|of freezing cold grubble,
work twenty-four hours a day at mill|for four pence every six years,
and when we got home, our dad |would slice us in two with a breadknife!
Right!
I had to get up in the morning| at ten o'clock at night,
half an hour before I went to bed,| eat a lump of cold poison,
work twenty-nine |hours a day down mill
and pay millowner |for permission to come to work,
and when we got home, |our dad would kill us
and dance about on our graves, |singing Hallelujah!
Are you trying to tell |the young people of today that,
and they won't believe you!
No, no they won't!
Well, there may be no score,
but there's certainly no lack |of excitement here, as you can see,
Nietzsche has just been booked| for arguing with the referee.
He accused Confucius |of having no free will,
and Confucius he say |name going book,
and this is Nietszche's |third booking in four games.
And, oh, that is Karl Marx.
Karl Marx is warming up, |it looks as if it is going to be
a substitution on the German side.
Obviously manager Martin Luther| has decided on all-out attack
and indeed he must, with only |two minutes of the match to go.
But the big question is: |Who is going to be replaced?
Who is gonna come off?
It could be Jaspers, |Hegel or Schopenhauer.
But it's Wittgenstein!
And here's Marx! Let's see if he can|put some light in this German attack.
Evidently not. What a shame. |Well, now, with just over a minute left,
replay on Tuesday looks| absolutely vital.
There's Archimedes, |and I think he's had an idea!
Eureka!
Archimedes out to Socrates,|Socrates back to Archimedes,
Archimedes out to Herakleitos,| he beat Hegel,
Herakleitos is a little flick, |here comes on the bardboard Socrates,
Socrates is there! It is in! |The Greeks are going mad!
The Greeks are going there,
Socrates scores, beautiful counter|the Germans are disputing it!
Hegel is arguing about ethics,
Kant by the categoric| imperative is holding that
ultimologically possessed |only in the imagination
and Marx is claiming it was off-side!
But Confucius blows the final whistle|it's all over!
Germany, having chanced |England's famous midfield trio
Vincent, Mogalov in the semifinal,| have been beaten by the odd goal!
And let's see it again!
There it is, |Socrates,
Socrates heads it in,| and Leibniz somehow has no chance!
And just look |at those delighted Greeks!
There they are, chopper Sokrates,| Empedokles, and Deraklites!
What a game here!
And Epikuros is there,| and Sokrates,
the captain who scored| what must probably be
the most important goal| of his career!
Ooh! Good afternoon, sir.| May I help you?
Yes, I'd like to have |an argument, please.
Certainly, sir. |Uhm, have you been here before?
Ah, no, this is| my first time.
I see. |Well, do you want to have
just one argument or were you thinking| of taking a course?
Well, uh, |what is the cost?
Yes, it's one pound for| a five-minute argument,
but only eight pounds |for a course of ten.
Well, I think I'll just try the one| and see how it goes from there.
Fine. Ah, yes, |try Mr. Barnard, Room 12.
Thank you very much.
What do you want?
- Well, I just was...|- Don't give me that,
you snorty-faced pair of parrot droppings!| Shut your festering gob, you tit!
Your type make me puke, you vacuous |stuffing old malodrious pervert!
Listen, I came here for an argument!
Oh, oh, I'm sorry,| but this is Abuse!
- Oh, oh, I see! |- Hahaha!
- Terribly sorry.|- No, you want Room 12A, next door.
- Oh, I see. Thank you very much. |- Not at all.
Stupid git...
Uh, is this the right room |for an argument?
I told you once.
- Uh, no, you haven't. |- Yes, I have.
- When? |- Just now.
- No, you didn't. |- Yes, I did.
- I'm telling you I did! |- You most certainly did not!
Wait a moment, is this the five-minute argument| or the full half hour?
Oh, oh, I see. |Just the five-minute.
Just the five minutes... |Right, thank you.
- Anyway, I did. |- Oh, no, you didn't.
Now let's get one thing| absolutely clear.
- I most definitely told you. |- No, you didn't.
- Yes, I did. |- No, you didn't.
Oh, look, this isn't an argument!
- Yes, it is! |- No, it isn't! It's just contradiction!
- No, it isn't! |- It is!
- It is not! |- It is! You just contradicted me!
- I did not! |- You did!
- No, no, no! |- You did just that!
- Nonsense! |- Oh, this is futile!
No, it isn't.
Yes, it is.
I came here for a good argument.
No, you didn't. |You came here for an argument.
Yes, but an argument |isn't just contradiction!
- Well, can be. |- No, an argument is a connected series
of statements intended| to establish a proposition.
- No, it isn't! |- Yes, it is! It isn't just contradiction!
Look, if I argue with you, |I must take a contrary position.
Yes, but that isn't |just saying "No, it isn't!"
- Yes, it is! |- No, it isn't!
- Yes, it is! |- Argument is an intellectual process.
Contradiction is just a automatic |gain-say of anything the other person says!
-It is not! |- It is!
- Not at all!|- Now look...
Thank you! Good morning!
What? |That's it! Good morning!
I was just getting interested!
Uh, I'm sorry, |the five minutes is up!
That was never five minutes, |just now!
- I'm afraid it was. |- Oh, no, it wasn't.
I'm sorry, I'm...|I'm not allowed to argue anymore.
What?
If you want me to go on arguing,|you'll have to pay for another five minute.
But that was never| five minutes, just now!
Oh, come on! |Oh, this is ridiculous!
If you want me to go on arguing,|you'll have to pay for another five minutes!
Oh, all right. |Here you are.
Thank you.
- Well?
- Well what?
That was never five minutes, just now!
I told you, |if you want me to go on arguing,
you'll have to pay |for another five minutes.
Yes, yes, well, I've just paid!
- No, you didn't!|- I did!
- You did not! |- I did!
- You never... |- I did!
Oh, what are we even |arguing about!
Well, I'm very sorry, |but you didn't pay!
Aha! But if I didn't pay,| why are you arguing?
Ahaaa! Got you!
- No, you haven't. |-Yes, I have.
If, you're arguing,|I must have paid.
Not necessarily. |I could be arguing in my spare time.
- Oh, I've had enough of this! | - No, you haven't!
- Yes, I have!| - No, you haven't!
I've got two legs |from my hips to the ground
And when I lift them| they walk around
And when I lift them |they climb the stairs
And when I shave them |they ain't got hairs
How sweet to be an idiot
As harmless as a cow
Too small to hide the sun
Almost poking fun
At the warm but insecure untidy crowd
How sweet to be an idiot
And dip my brain in joy
Children laughing at my back
With no fear of attack
As much retaliation as a toy
How sweet to be an idiot
How sweet
I tiptoe down the street
Smile at everyone I meet
But suddenly a scream
Smashes through my dream
Fi fa fo fum
I smell blood of an asylum
Hey you
You're such a pedant
You've got as much brain as a dead ant
As much imagination as a caravan site
But I still love you
Still love you
How sweet to be an idiot
How sweet
How sweet
How sweet
- Good morning. |- Oh, good morning.
Uhm, have you come to arrange a holiday| or would you like a blow job?
I'm sorry?
Uh, oh, you've come |to arrange a holiday?
- Uuh...yes. |- Oh, sorry, sorry.
Now, where were you thinking of going?
Uh, to India.
- Ah, one of our adventure holidays. |- Yes, that's right.
Well, you'd better see |Mr. Bounder about that.
Uh, Mr. Bounder, this gentleman |is interested in the "India Overland"
and nothing else.
Ah. Hello, |I'm Bounder of Adventure.
Oh, hello. |My name is Smoketoomuch.
What?
My name is Smoketoomuch.| Mr. Smoketoomuch.
Well, you'd better |cut down a little then.
- I'm sorry? |- You'd better cut down a little then.
Oh, I see! Smoke too much |so I'd better cut down a little then!
Yes. Ooh, it's going |to get people making jokes
about your name all the time, eh?
No, actually, it never struck me before.| Smoketoomuch...
Anyway, you're interested |in one of our holidays, are you?
Yes, that's right. |I saw your advert in the blassified ads.
- The what? |- In The Times Blassified Ads.
Ah, The Times Classified Ads.
Yes, that's right.
I'm afraid I have a speech impediment.|I can't pronounce the letter B.
- Uh, C. |- Yes, that's right, B.
It's all due to a trauma I suffered| when I was a schoolboy.
- I was attacked by a Siamese bat. |- Uh, ah, a Siamese cat.
No, a Siamese bat. |They're more dangerous.
Listen...can you say the letter K?
Oh, yes. Khaki, kettle, Kipling,| Khomeini, Kellog's Born Flakes.
Well, why don't you say the letter K|instead of the letter C?
Well, you mean, |pronounce "blassified" with a K?
Yes, absolutely!
- Classified! |- Good!
Oh, it's very good! I never |thought of that before.
What a silly bunt.
Now then, uhm, about the holiday...
Yes, well, I've been unpackaged store |many times before,
so your advert |really bought my eye.
Good, good, jolly good, |well, let me offer you this...
Why-why, what's the point| of going abroad,
if your just going to be treated like a sheep?
Cartered around in buses |surrounded by sweaty mindless oaves
- from Vetchy and Boventry. |- Absolutely.
They've blothed backs and their bardigans| and their chances to radios,
complaining about the tea or they don't |make it properly, do they?
And stopping at endless Majorcan| bodegas selling fish and chips
and Rodney's Red Barrel |and calamares and toothache.
And sitting in their cotton sunfrost,| squirting Timothy White Suncream
all over their puffy, raw,| swollen, parollen flesh,
'cos they overdid it on the first day.
Yes, I know just what you mean! |Now, what we offer is...
Being herded into countless |Hotel Miramars and Bellevues,
Bontinentals with their international luxury
modern roomettes... |- Oh, yes.
...and swimming pools full of draft Red Barrel
and fat German businessmen pretending| to be acrobats and forming pyramids
and frightening the children and... |- Oh, yes.
...barging into the cues.
And if you're not at your table... |- Oh, yes.
...spot on seven you miss your bowl |of Campbell's Cream and Mushroom Soup,
the first item in the menu |of International Cuisine.
- Absolutely. Now what we have here is... |- Every Thursday night
there's a bloody cabaret in the bar| featuring some tiny dego
with nine-inch hips and some |fat bloated tart with her hair
really creamed down and big arse| presenting flamenco to foreigners.
- Will you be quiet, please?|- from Birmingham with bloody right
- Will you be quiet? |- legs and diarrhea trying to pick up hairy,
bandy legs ,whop degos called Manuel.|- Be-be quiet!
And once a week there's |an excursion to local Roman remains,
where you can buy |Cherry Aid and melted ice cream
- Be quiet! |- and bleedin' Rodney's Red Barrel.
- Shut up! |And one night they take you
to a typical restaurant with local...|- Shut up!
...atmosphere and color |and you sit next to a...
- Shut up! |...party from Relu who keep singing
"I love the Costa Brava!" |- Shut up!
"I love the Costa Brava!" |And you get cornered by some
drunken green grocer from Luton |with an Instamatic camera
and last Tuesday's daily express... |- Please be quiet!
...and he's on and on and on about| how it is running the country
and how many languages |Margaret Powell can speak
and she throws up all over the cuba libre.| And spending four days on the tarmac
at Luton Airport on a five-day |package store with nothing to eat
but dry sandwhiches.|- Shut up! Please shut up!
And you can't even get a glass| of Rodney's Red Barrel because
you're still in England with the |bloody bar closes every time you're thirsty.
And the kids are crying and vomiting| and breaking the plastic ashtrays.
They keep telling you won't be |another hour, but you know damn well
your plane is still in Iceland, |because it had to turn back,
trying to take a party of Swedes to... |oh, Shut up!
...to take a party of Swedes to Yugoslavia.| Of course it loads you up there
at 3 a.m. in the morning. |And then you sit on the tarmac for four hours
because of unforeseen difficulties, |i.e. the permanent strike
of airtraffic control over Paris. |When you finally get to Malaga airport,
everybody's cueing for the bloody toilet,|and cueing for the bloody half-customs officers,
and cueing for the bloody bus |that isn't there, waiting to take you to the hotel
that hasn't yet been built. |When you finally get to the half-built ruin
called the Hotel Limassol, |while paying half the holiday money
to a license Spaniard in a taxi, |there's no water in the pool,
there's no water in the bath,|there's no water in the tap,
there's only a bleeding lizard in the bidet|and half the rooms are doublebooked,
and you can't sleep anyhow, |'cause the permanent are in the jungles
in the hotel next door. |Meanwhile, the Spanish National Tourist Board
promises that the raging cholera epidemic|is merely a mild outbreak of the Spanish Conleigh,
while the like of the previous outbreak|in 1616 even the bloody rats are dying from it!
As early as the late 14th century,|or indeed as late as the early 14th century,
the earliest forms of japes were divisible in...
Meanwhile, the bloody guardia are arresting|16-yearolds for kissing in the streets
everybody's buying awful little horrid| donkeys with their names on,
I can't tell you the...-|and when you finally get to Manchester,
there's only another bloody bus |to carry you another 60 miles...
As early as the late 14th century |or indeed as late as the early 14th century,
the earliest forms of jape |were divisible into the two categories
in which I now intend to divide them. |The earliest manifestation
of the basic simple precipitation jest incurred, |as will be seen from the demonstration,
a disproportional amount of internal|resibility on the part of the operator.
The secondary precipitation occurs when |both protagonists and dupe are located indoors.
It is true, however, that this |has involved the development
of a special piece of machinery. |But it is still no more
than a simple variation| of primary precipitation.
The opening-up of the African continent| revealed a vast new source of wealth
for humourous exploatation. |We are to see demonstrated how this
was adapted to the basic| precipitation jape.
We now come on to a considera...
We now come on to a consideration |of the more sophisticated transitive mode
of japing, in which as we'll observe,| the operator or inceptor remains totally unaware
of the humorous implications of his action.
First...first we are to see
the simple sideswipe or "wop."
Hey, Vance!
Next, the "sideswipe and return."
Hey, Vance!
And now, |the "double sideswipe and return."
Hey, Vance!
Popular as this jest has always been,| however, it cannot compare
with the ribbled connotations associated| with the dispatch of an edible missile.
First...first the simple |straightforward "offensive deposit."
Second...second the simple |"sideways offensive deposit."
Next, the simple "surprise deposit."
And now, the "foul pie."
Uh, could we have new pies, please?
Finally, finally we move on| to the interesting
but little known variant, normally |designated the "three-course complex."
But...but finally we must not forget |the enjoyment, the satisfaction,
and the edification to be derived |from the simple straightforward
"sideways completely unexpected deposit."
Once upon a time there was| a little house in a dark forest.
In this house lived a humble |woodcutter and his wife
and their pretty daughter, |Little Red Riding Hood.
And in the middle of this deep, |dark forest, there lived a vicious wolf!
One day, Little Red Riding Hood sent off |to take some things to her old grandmother
who lived deep in the forest.
The vicious wolf |saw Little Red Riding Hood
and thought: |"She looks very good to eat!"
"Where are you going my, pretty one?"
"Oh, kind sir, to my grandmother's."
"Ha, ha, ha, ha!" |snirked the wicked wolf
and dashed off through the forest |to grandmother's house.
"Knock, knock, knock" |went the wicked wolf.
The door opened wide, |but it wasn't grandmother who opened it.
It was Buzz Aldrin, |America's #2 spaceman!
But this was not Granny's little house at all,|but the headquarter of NASA,
the American space research agency.
The wicked wolf was shot| by security guards.
So all was quiet in the forest again. |The humble woodcutter and his wife
sold their story |to Der Speigel for 40 000 DM.
NASA agreed to limit the number of |nuclear tests in Granny's little house
to two on Thursdays |and one on Saturdays after tea.
Liberal rubbish!
What do you want |with your jugged fish, Klaus?
Pardon, my wide-thighed plum?
What do you want with your |jugged fish, you clothied git?
- Hallibut! |- The jugged fish is hallibut!
All right. What fish do you have |that is not jugged?
- Uuh, rabbit.|- What, rabbit fish?
- Well, it's all covered in fur.| - Well, is it dead?
Well, it was coughing up blood| last night.
All right, I'll have the dead,| unjugged rabbit fish.
Apalling!
Oh, you're always complaining.
- What's for afterwards? |- Well, there's rat pie, rat pudding,
rat sorbet or, uh, strawberry tart.|- Strawberry tart?
- Well, uh, it's got some rat in it. |- How much?
Six. Rather a lot really.
I'll have a slice |without so much rat in it.
Apalling!
"Moan, moan, moan!"
- Hello, mom! Hello, dad!|- Hello, son!
There's a dead bishop| on the landing!
- Where...where's he from? |- What do you mean?
What's his diocese?
Well, he looked a bit| Canterburyish to me.
I'll go and have a look.
- I know which's bringing them in here.|- Well, it's not me.
I put three out by the trashcans last week| and the garbagemen won't touch them.
- It's the bishop of Leicester!|- How do you know?
Tatooed on the back of his neck!| I think I'd better call the police!
Should you call the church?
- Call the church police!|- That's a good idea! The church police!
Hello!
What's all this then? Amen!
- Are you the church police? |- Oh, yes!
There's another dead bishop| on the landing, sergeant!
Detective Paerson, madam! |What is he? R.C. or C.V.?
- How should I know?|- Tatooed on the back of their neck!
Here, is that rat tart?
Oh, uh, yes.
Disgusting! Right, men! |The hunt is on! Let us kneel in prayer!
Oh, Lord!
Oh, Lord, we deseach thee. |Let us know, who killed the Bishop of Leicester.
The one in the braces, he done it.
It's a fair cop, |but society is to blame.
Right, we'll arrest them instead!
Come on, you! Are you in society? |Are you in society?
Ho, ho, ho, ho...
Right, we'd like to conclude |this arrest with a hymn.
The whole thing's bright and beautiful,| all creatures great and small.
The whole thing's bright and wonderful...
I never wanted to be| in such a shambledy sketch.
I always wanted to be...a lumberjack!
Leaping from tree to tree...
as they float down the mighty rivers| of British Columbia!
The larch...the redwood...
the mighty sequioa...|with my best girl by my side!
The giant deadwood, the spruce
...the little Californian root tree!
We'd sing, sing, sing!
I'm a lumberjack and I'm OK, |I sleep all night and I work all day.
He's a lumberjack and he's OK, |he sleeps all night and he works all day.
I cut down trees, I eat my lunch,| I go to the lavatory.
On Wednesdays I go shopping, |and have buttered scones for tea.
He cuts down trees, he eats his lunch,| he goes to the lavatory.
On Wednesdays he goes shopping, |and has buttered scones for tea.
I'm a lumberjack and I'm OK, |I sleep all night and I work all day.
I cut down trees, I skip and jump, |I like to press wild flowers.
I put on women's clothing,| and hang around in bars.
He cuts down trees, he skips and jumps,| he likes to press wild flowers.
He puts on women's clothing, |and hangs around in bars?
I'm a lumberjack and I'm OK, |I sleep all night and I work all day .
I cut down trees, I wear high heels,| suspenders and a bra.
I wish I'd been a girlie, |just like my dear papa.
He cuts down trees, he wears high heels, |suspenders and a bra?
What kind of god damn |fairy cunny fairy faggot...
I'm a lumberjack and I'm OK,| I sleep all night and I work all day.
I'm a lumberjack and I'm OK!
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Marius 1931 CD1
Marius 1931 CD2
Marnie (Hitchcock 1964)
Married With Children 1x01 - Pilot
Married With Children 1x02 - Thinergy
Married With Children 1x03 - Sixteen Years and What You Get
Married With Children 1x04 - But I Didnt Shoot the Deputy
Married With Children 1x05 - Have You Driven a Ford Lately
Married With Children 1x06 - Whose Room Is It Anyway
Married With Children 1x07 - Al Loses His Cherry
Married With Children 1x08 - Peggy Sue Got Work
Married With Children 1x09 - Married Without Children
Married With Children 1x10 - The Poker Game
Married With Children 1x11 - Where Is the Boss
Married With Children 1x12 - Nightmare On Als Street
Married With Children 1x13 - Johnny B Gone
Marrying Kind The (George Cukor 1952)
Marrying The Mafia CD1
Marrying The Mafia CD2
Martian Chronicles The 1980 CD1
Martian Chronicles The 1980 CD2
Martin Lawrence Live Runteldat
Marx Brothers - Horse Feathers (1932)
Mary Poppins 1964 CD1
Mary Poppins 1964 CD2
Mask of Zorro
Masque of the Red Death The
Masques (Masks)
Massacre 1989
Master And Commander - The Far Side Of The World (2003) CD1
Master And Commander - The Far Side Of The World (2003) CD2
Matango (Attack of the Mushroom People 1963)
Matchstick Men
Matrix
Matrix Reloaded (2)
Matrix Revisited The (2001) CD1
Matrix Revisited The (2001) CD2
Matrix Revolutions The CD1
Matrix Revolutions The CD2
Matrix The
Maurice 1987
Mauvais Sang
May (Lucky McKee 2002)
McKenzie Break The 1970
McLintock CD1
McLintock CD2
Me Myself I
Me Myself and Irene
Mean Creek 2004
Mean Girls
Meaning Of Life The (Monty Pythons) CD1
Meaning Of Life The (Monty Pythons) CD2
Medea
Meet Joe Black
Meet The Parents
Mekhong Full Moon Party (2002)
Melody Time
Memrias Pstumas
Men Behind the Sun
Men In Black
Men Make Women Crazy Theory
Men Suddenly In Black
Men in Black 2
Men in Tights
Menace 2 society
Mentale La
Mentale La (The Code)
Mephisto CD1
Mephisto CD2
Mercury Rising
Mermaids
Message in a Bottle
Metroland 1997
Metropolis
Metropolis (anime)
Miami Tail A 2003
Michael Collins CD1
Michael Collins CD2
Michael Jackson Moonwalker 1988
Michael Jordan To The Max 2000
Michel Vaillant CD1
Michel Vaillant CD2
Michelangelo Antonioni - Blow up
Mickey Blue Eyes 1999
Middle of the Moment
Midnight (1998)
Midnight Clear A
Midnight Cowboy (1969)
Midnight Express 1978
Midnight Mass 2002
Midnight Run CD1
Midnight Run CD2
Mighty Wind A
Milagro De P Tinto El
Milieu du monde Le (Alain Tanner 1974)
Millers Crossing 1990
Million Dollar Baby CD1
Million Dollar Baby CD2
Million Le 1931
Mimic
Mimic 2
Mindhunters
Minimal Stories 2002
Minority Report 2002
Miracle On 34th Street
Miracle Worker The
Mirror The 1997
Misery
Mishima A Life In Four Chapters DVDRip 1985 CD1
Mishima A Life In Four Chapters DVDRip 1985 CD2
Mission Cleopatra
Mission Impossible (1996)
Mission Impossible 2
Mission Mumbai
Mission The CD1
Mission The CD2
Mission en Marbella
Mississippi Burning CD1
Mississippi Burning CD2
Mississippi Mermaid 1969
Missouri Breaks The 1976
Mogambo CD1
Mogambo CD2
Mohabbatein CD1
Mohabbatein CD2
Mokey Business
Mole The CD1
Mole The CD2
Molly Maguires The CD1
Molly Maguires The CD2
Mommie Dearest (1981)
Mona Lisa Smile CD1
Mona Lisa Smile CD2
Monanieba CD1
Monanieba CD2
Monday
Monella CD1
Monella CD2
Money Money Money (Claude Lelouch 1972) CD1
Money Money Money (Claude Lelouch 1972) CD2
Mongjunggi
Monkeybone - Special Edition
Mononoke
Monsters Ball
Monsters and Cie
Monthy Python - Life Of Brian
Monty Python Live at the Hollywood Bowl
Monty Python Live at the Hollywood Bowl 1982
Monty Python and the Holy Grail
Monty Pythons Life of Brian
Monty Pythons The Meaning of Life
Monty Pythons and the Meaning of Life
Moon Child 2003 CD1
Moon Child 2003 CD2
Moon Spinners CD1
Moon Spinners CD2
Moonfleet 1955
Moonlight Whispers 1999
Moscow Does Not Believe In Tears CD1
Moscow Does Not Believe In Tears CD2
Mosquito Coast The CD1
Mosquito Coast The CD2
Most Terrible Time In My Life The (1994)
Mostly Martha
Mother India 1957 CD1
Mother India 1957 CD2
Mother Kusters Goes To Heaven 1975
Mother Night 1996
Mother The 2003 CD1
Mother The 2003 CD2
Mothman Prophecies The
Moulin Rouge CD1
Moulin Rouge CD2
Mouse Hunt
Mrs Doubtfire
Mrtav Ladan
Muhammad - Legacy Of A Prophet CD1 2002
Muhammad - Legacy Of A Prophet CD2 2002
Mujer mas fea del mundo La
Mummy Returns The - Collectors Edition (Widescreen)
Mummy The - Full-Screen Collectors Edition
Muppet Christmas Carol The
Murder By Numbers
Murder In The First 1995
Murder Most Foul (1964)
Murder My Sweet 1944
Murder at the Gallop
Muriels Wedding
Musketeer The
My Babys Daddy
My Beautiful Laundrette
My Big Fat Greek Wedding
My Boss My Hero
My Bosss Daughter 2003
My Girlfriends Boyfriend (Eric Rohmer 1987)
My Life as a Dog 1985
My Life to Live
My Neighbors the Yamadas (Isao Takahata 1999) CD1
My Neighbors the Yamadas (Isao Takahata 1999) CD2
My Son the Fanatic
My Tutor Friend (2003) CD1
My Tutor Friend (2003) CD2
My Wife Is A Gangster 2
My Wife Is Gangster
Mystery Of Rampo