Uh-oh, it looks like your Internet Explorer is out of date.
For a better shopping experience, please upgrade now.
Now a major motion picture from Fox Searchlight Pictures, The History Boys: The Film contains Alan Bennett's diary of the filming, the shooting script, and an introduction by director Nicholas Hytner, as well as an extensive plate section that includes a look behind the scenes and stills from the film.
An unruly bunch of bright, funny sixth-form (or senior) boys in a British boys' school are, as such boys will be, in pursuit of sex, sport, and a place at a good university, generally in that order. In all their efforts, they are helped and hindered, enlightened and bemused, by a maverick English teacher who seeks to broaden their horizons in sometimes undefined ways, and a young history teacher who questions the methods, as well as the aim, of their schooling. In The History Boys, Alan Bennett evokes the special period and place that the sixth form represents in an English boy's life. In doing so, he raises not only universal questions about the nature of history and how it is taught but also questions about the purpose of education today.
| ISBN-13: | 9781429996457 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Farrar, Straus and Giroux |
| Publication date: | 11/14/2006 |
| Sold by: | Macmillan |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 144 |
| File size: | 3 MB |
Alan Bennett is a renowned playwright and essayist whose screenplay for The Madness of King George was nominated for an Academy Award. He lives in London, England.
THE HISTORY BOYS: THE FILM
This shooting script includes some scenes that were cut from the screenplay in the editing
EXT. STREET. DAY.
Posner, a seventeen-year-old boy, is cycling towards school, headphones on, listening to some Ivor Novello ('I can give you the moon', say). It is summer, mid-1980s.
He stops outside a church, where there is another bike in the porch. He waits.
INT. CHURCH. DAY.
Inside the church Scripps, also seventeen or eighteen, is just taking Communion, the only other communicants a couple of old ladies. Scripps frowning in prayer.
EXT. CHURCH PORCH. DAY.
Posner waiting in the porch as Scripps comes out.
POSNER
Will that do the trick, do you think?
Scripps pulls a face and gets on his bike.
SCRIPPS
We're about to find out.
EXT. SCHOOL. DAY.
A large city grammar school in Yorkshire (boys only, ages eleven to eighteen), possibly on the outskirts of the city, with its own playing fields, tennis courts, etc.
A milk float waits outside the entrance.
Posner and Scripps cycle up as an old car pulls up. Scripps stops by the milk float, which is driven by Lockwood.
SCRIPPS
Let's get it over with.
As they go towards the school buildings Akhtar gets out of the car, which we see has his father and mother and various brothers and sisters in it too.
INT. CORRIDOR OUTSIDE HEADMASTER'S STUDY. DAY.
Various boys (and their parents) standing around, none of them in school uniform. They are all seventeen or eighteen, and they are waiting for their A-level results.
Posner, Scripps and Lockwood are joined by the other History Boys - eight of them in all. They are all very bright, with the possible exception of Rudge, who compensates for his inarticulacy by excelling on the rugby pitch. Posner is Jewish, a late developer. Scripps is a budding writer, wry and articulate. Lockwood is loud and good-natured. Joining them are Timms, who is a merciless piss-taker; Akhtar, who is seriously clever, small and bright-eyed; and Crowther — reserved and easygoing.
Fiona comes out of the headmaster's office with the list, which she pins up. She is the Headmaster's secretary, an object of almost universal desire.
Some rush but with an attempt at cool. All the Boys are pleased, with Rudge showing it less than the others. Dakin saunters up, the last of the History Boys. He is supremely self-confident, and seems to be intimate with Fiona.
SCRIPPS Are you not going to look?
DAKIN I got mine last night.
He smirks at Fiona.
SCRIPPS
I bet you did.
TIMMS
Jammy sod.
The Headmaster appears as Akhtar goes to tell his family.
HEADMASTER
Lockwood. Why are you dressed as a milkman?
LOCKWOOD
Working, sir, for the holidays.
HEADMASTER
As a milkman?
He looks pained.
After the holidays you will be coming back to try for Oxford and Cambridge. Meanwhile try and do something fitting.
POSNER I'm in a bookshop, sir.
HEADMASTER
Good, good.
CROWTHER
I'm on the bins, sir.
TIMMS
Bouncer, sir.
AKHTAR
Lavatory attendant, sir.
DAKIN
Gigolo, sir.
The Headmaster winces and retires.
Hector has meanwhile come up behind the group at the noticeboard with Mrs Lintott. Hector is the staff-room maverick, fifty-five and portly. He teaches English. Mrs Lintott (Dorothy) is a history teacher, also in her mid-fifties.
HECTOR
Dorothy. Boys, well done! So. We shall be meeting again after all.
BOYS
(affecting resignation) Yes, sir.
HECTOR
At school, you see, Dakin, you don't get parole. Good behaviour just brings a longer sentence. You poor boys.
The Boys disappear down the corridor. Hector looks after them.
'The happiest youth, viewing his progress through What perils past, what crosses to ensue Would shut the book and sit him down and die.'
Congratulations, Dorothy. You must be very pleased.
EXT. SCHOOL. DAY.
Titles and credits.
As the autumn term begins, boys of all ages arrive; teachers get out of their cars; the History Boys, now in uniform, greet each other. Hector roars through the school gates on his motorbike.
INT. MRS LINTOTT'S CLASSROOM. DAY.
The first lesson of the new term. Mrs Lintott and the eight Boys.
MRS LINTOTT
You are entitled, though only for five minutes, Dakin, to feel pleased with yourselves. No one has done as well — not in English, not in Science, not even dare I say it, in Media Studies. And you alone are up for Oxford and Cambridge. So. To work. First essay this term will be the Church on the eve of the Reformation.
TIMMS
Not again, miss.
MRS LINTOTT
This is Oxford and Cambridge.You don't just need to know it. You need to know it backwards. Facts, facts, facts.
With a groan, pulling textbooks from their bags, they set to work.
INT. HEADMASTER'S STUDY. DAY.
The Headmaster is talking to Mrs Lintott.
HEADMASTER
They're clever but they're crass, and were it Bristol or York I would have no worries. But Oxford and Cambridge. We need a strategy, Dorothy, a game plan.
MRS LINTOTT
They know their stuff.
HEADMASTER
But they lack flair. Culture they can get from Hector, and history from you ... but (I'm thinking aloud now) is there something else ...
MRS LINTOTT
Properly organised facts are ...
HEADMASTER
This is Oxford and Cambridge, Dorothy. Facts are just the beginning.
Fiona has come in.
Think charm. Think polish. Think Renaissance Man. Leave it with me, Dorothy. Leave it with me.
He goes back to his desk and takes out Irwin's application with his photograph from beneath his blotter.
A knock at the door.
Come.
Wilkes is in gym shoes, tracksuit bottoms: plainly the PE master.
Wilkes, ah yes. An innovation to the timetable. PE.
WILKES
Yes, Headmaster.
HEADMASTER
For the Oxbridge set. Surely not, you say. But why not? This is the biggest hurdle of their lives and I want them galvanised.
WILKES
Galvanised, yes, Headmaster.
Headmaster leads Wilkes out of the office.
EXT. SCHOOL. DAY.
HEADMASTER
Holistic ... is that the word I'm groping for? Mind, body, body, mind. An edge to the body, an edge to the mind. Some of them smoke. They deserve to take exercise.
Headmaster jumps on a boy.
Crisps, boy, crisps. This is what we do with crisps.
He leads the boy to a bin, scrunches up the packet and chucks them away. Behind him, we see, emerging from his old car, Irwin, the supply History teacher whose application the Headmaster has earlier inspected. He is twenty five or so.
INT. HECTOR'S CLASSROOM. DAY.
Most of the Boys' lessons will be in History, but now they are with Hector whose assignment is to prepare them for the General Studies paper that all Oxbridge entrants have to take.
HECTOR
On the timetable our esteemed Headmaster gives these periods the dubious title of General Studies. I will let you into a secret, boys. There is no such thing as General Studies. General Studies is a waste of time. Knowledge is not general. It is specific - and - (He lowers his voice.) — it has nothing to do with getting on.
As he talks he walks behind Posner, who looks directly at the camera, which stays with him.
POSNER
(to camera)
This was always Hector's way. He made learning a conspiracy, a plot between us and him. I loved it.
RUDGE
(to Posner)
I didn't. What was the fucking point?
HECTOR
But remember, open quotation marks, 'All knowledge is precious whether or not it serves the slightest human use,' close quotation marks. Who said? Lockwood? Crowther? Timms? Akhtar?
Pause
'Loveliest of trees, the cherry now -'
AKHTAR
A. E. Housman, sir.
TIMMS
Wasn't he a nancy, sir?
HECTOR
Foul, festering grubby-minded little trollop. Do not use that word.
He hits him with a book.
TIMMS
You use it, sir.
HECTOR
I do, sir, I know but I am far gone in age and decrepitude.
CROWTHER
You're not supposed to hit us, sir. We could report you, sir.
HECTOR
(despair) I know, I know.
An elaborate pantomime, all this.
DAKIN
Remember, sir, we're scholarship candidates now. We're all going in for Oxford and Cambridge, sir.
HECTOR
Oxford and Cambridge, what for?
LOCKWOOD
Old, sir. Tried and tested.
HECTOR
No, sir. It's because other boys want to go there. The hot ticket. Standing room only.
CROWTHER
(winking) Where did you go, sir?
HECTOR
Sheffield. I was very happy.
'Happy is England, sweet her artless daughters.
Enough her simple loveliness for me.'
Keats.
CROWTHER
We won't be examined on that, will we, sir?
HECTOR
Keats?
CROWTHER
Happiness.
He hits them.
DAKIN
You're hitting us again, sir.
HECTOR
Child, I am your teacher. Whatever I do in this room is a token of my trust.
I am in your hands. It is a pact. Bread eaten in secret.
'I have put before you life and death, blessing and cursing; therefore choose life, that both thou and thy seed may live.' Oxford and Cambridge!
INT. CORRIDOR OUTSIDE HEADMASTER'S STUDY. DAY.
Irwin is waiting outside the study. Scripps is passing by when the Headmaster appears.
HEADMASTER
You are?
IRWIN
Irwin.
HEADMASTER
Irwin?
IRWIN
The supply teacher.
HEADMASTER
Quite so.
Scripps has watched this and turns to camera.
SCRIPPS
Hector had said that if I wanted to write I should keep a notebook and there must have been something furtive about Irwin's arrival because I wrote it down. I called it clandestine, a word I'd just learnt and wasn't sure how to pronounce.
INT. HEADMASTER'S STUDY. DAY.
Irwin is now sitting with the Headmaster.
HEADMASTER
The examinations are at the end of term, which gives us three months at the outside. Well, you were at Cambridge, you know the form.
IRWIN
Oxford, Jesus.
HEADMASTER
I thought of going, but this was the fifties. Change was in the air. A spirit of adventure.
IRWIN
So, where did you go?
HEADMASTER
I was a geographer. I went to Hull.
An awkward pause.
They are a likely lot, the boys. All keen. One oddity. Rudge. Determined to try for Oxford, and Christ Church of all places. No hope. Might get in at Loughborough in a bad year. Otherwise all bright. But they need finish. Edge. Your job. We are low in the league. I want to see us up there with Manchester Grammar School, Haberdashers' Aske's, Leighton Park. Or is that an open prison? No matter.
Pause.
There is a vacancy in History.
IRWIN
That's very true. (thoughtfully) That's very true.
HEADMASTER
In the school.
IRWIN
Ah.
HEADMASTER
Get me scholarships, Irwin, pull us up the table and it is yours. I am corseted by the curriculum, but I can find you three lessons a week.
IRWIN
Not enough.
Headmaster looks at the wall timetable.
HEADMASTER
Ye-es. I think I know where we can filch an hour. You are very young. Grow a moustache. I am thinking classroom control.
INT. HECTOR'S CLASSROOM. DAY.
Posner is singing an Edith Piaf song, 'L'Accordioniste', accompanied by Scripps. Hector's disdain for anything like a curriculum is indulged by the Boys. When the song finishes —
HECTOR
Ou voudriez-vous travailler cet après-midi?
Groans.
DAKIN
Je voudrais travailler ... dans une maison de passe.
HECTOR
Oo la la.
Boys
Qu'est-ce que c'est?
Qu'est-ce qu'une maison de passe?
POSNER
A brothel.
HECTOR
Très bien. Mais une maison de passe où tous les clients utilisent le subjonctif, ou le conditionnel, oui?
He motions to Dakin, who goes out of the classroom, and knocks on the door.
POSNER
Entrez, s'il vous plaît.
Voilà votre lit and voici votre prostituée.
Posner indicates Timms.
DAKIN
Je veux m'étendre sur le lit.
HECTOR
Je voudrais ... I would like to stretch out on the bed in the conditional or the subjunctive. Continuez, mes enfants.
Dakin makes to lie down on some chairs.
POSNER
Mais les chaussures, monsieur, pas sur le lit.
DAKIN
Excusez moi, Mademoiselle.
POSNER
Et votre pantalon s'il vous plaît.
Dakin takes off trousers.
Oh. Quelles belles jambes.
Dakin examines his own legs with approval.
Et maintenant ... Claudine.
Timms does a passable impression of Catherine Deneuve.
DAKIN
Oui, la prostituée, s'il vous plaît.
CLAUDINE (TIMMS)
A quel prix?
DAKIN
Dix francs.
CLAUDINE
Pour dix francs je peux vous montrer ma prodigieuse poitrine.
There is a knock at the door.
POSNER
Un autre client.
Posner opens the door. The Boys freeze in horror. Hector is unperturbed.
HECTOR
Ah, cher Monsieur le Directeur —
The Headmaster comes in with Irwin. Dakin stands trouserless in front of them.
HEADMASTER
Mr Hector, what on earth is happening ...
Hector holds up an admonitory finger.
HECTOR
L'anglais, c'est interdit. Ici on ne parle que français, en accordant une importance particulière au subjonctif.
The Headmaster is cornered.
HEADMASTER
Oh, ah.
Et qu'est-ce qui se passe ici?
Pourquoi cet garçon ... Dakin isn't it? ... est sans ses ... trousers?
HECTOR
Quelqu'un? Ne sois pas timide. Dites à cher Monsieur le Directeur ce que nous faisons.
The Boys are frozen. Hector beams at them.
DAKIN
Je suis un homme qui ...
HECTOR
Vous n'êtes pas un homme. Vous êtes un soldat ... un soldat blessé, vous comprenez cher Monsieur le Directeur ... soldat blessé?
HEADMASTER
Wounded soldier, of course, yes.
HECTOR
Ici c'est un hôpital en Belgique.
HEADMASTER
Belgique? Pourquoi Belgique?
AKHTAR
Ypres, sir. Ypres. Pendant la Guerre Mondiale Numéro Un.
HECTOR
C'est ça. Dakin est un soldat blessé, un mutilé de guerre et les autres sont des médecins, infirmiéres et tout le personnel d'un grand établissement médical et thérapeutique.
Continuez, mes enfants.
HEADMASTER
Mais ...
Lockwood begins to moan. The others follow suit. Screams, groans, an over-the-top portrayal of a field hospital.
AKHTAR
Qu'il souffre!
HECTOR
Il est distrait.
IRWIN
Il est commotionné, peut être?
HECTOR
Comment?
IRWIN
Commotionné. Shell-shocked.
There is a perceptible moment.
HECTOR
C'est possible. Commotionné. Oui, c'est le mot juste.
HEADMASTER
Permettez-moi d'introduire M. Irwin, notre nouveau professeur.
HECTOR
Enchanté.
HEADMASTER
Enough of this ... silliness. Not silliness, no ... but ... Mr Hector, you are aware that these pupils are Oxbridge candidates.
HECTOR
Are they? Are you sure? Nobody has told me.
HEADMASTER
Mr Irwin will be coaching them, but it's a question of time. I have found him three lessons a week and I was wondering ...
HECTOR
No, Headmaster. (He covers his ears.)
HEADMASTER
Purely on a temporary basis. It will be the last time, I promise.
HECTOR
Last time was the last time also.
HEADMASTER
I am thinking of the boys.
HECTOR
I, too. Non. Absolument non. Non. Non. Non. C'est hors de question. Et puis, si vous voulez m'excuser, je dois continuer le leçon. A tout à l'heure.
Headmaster looks at Irwin.
HEADMASTER
Fuck.
They go as the bell goes. Hector picks up helmet.
RUDGE
It's true, though, sir. We don't have much time.
AKHTAR
We don't even have to do French.
HECTOR
Now, who goes home?
There are no offers.
Surely I can give someone a lift?
Who's on pillion duty?
Dakin?
DAKIN
Not me, sir. Going into town.
HECTOR
Crowther?
CROWTHER
Off for a run, sir.
HECTOR
Akhtar?
AKHTAR
Computer club, sir.
POSNER
I'll come, sir.
HECTOR
No. No. Never mind.
SCRIPPS
(resignedly) I'll come, sir.
HECTOR
Ah, Scripps.
SCRIPPS
The things I do for Jesus.
Hector and Scripps go.
POSNER
It's never me.
LOCKWOOD
You're too young, still.
DAKIN
Though it will happen. Now that you have achieved puberty ...
LOCKWOOD
If rather late in the day ...
DAKIN
Mr Hector is likely at some point to put his hand on your knee. This is because Mr Hector is a homosexual and a sad fuck. The drill is to look at the hand and say, 'And what does Mr Hector want?' He has no answer to this and so will desist.
EXT. SCHOOL CAR PARK. DAY.
HECTOR (crash-helmeted and on the bike).
Thrutch up.
Scripps, also in helmet and on the pillion, grips Hector tighter. They roar off.
EXT. STREET. DAY.
They pass a woman, who notices something and looks back.
EXT. ROAD. DAY.
The bike cruises along. Scripps' patient, bored face, hands on his helmeted head.
INT. SCHOOL CORRIDOR. DAY.
Mrs Lintott and the Headmaster.
MRS LINTOTT
I just think I should have been told.
HEADMASTER
He comes highly recommended.
MRS LINTOTT
So did Anne of Cleves.
HEADMASTER
Who? He's up-to-the-minute, Dorothy. More now.
MRS LINTOTT
Now? I thought history was then.
INT. CANTEEN. DAY.
Headmaster approaches Akhtar and Timms as they queue for lunch.
HEADMASTER
Anne of Cleves? Remind me.
AKHTAR
Fourth wife of Henry VIII, sir.
HEADMASTER
Of course.
TIMMS
She was the one they told him was Miss Dish, only when she turned up she had a face like the wrong end of a camel's turd.
HEADMASTER
Quite so.
INT. HEADMASTER'S STUDY. DAY.
After his rebuff in the French class, the Headmaster is scanning the timetable. Irwin stands waiting.
HEADMASTER
Fiona!
She comes in.
INT. CHANGING ROOMS. DAY.
Class of around twenty-five or so, including the History Boys.
TIMMS
I've brought a note, sir.
WILKES
How much for?
I don't do notes. Get changed.
TIMMS
Sir ...
WILKES
God doesn't do notes either. Did Jesus say, 'Can I be excused the crucifixion?'
No.
SCRIPPS
Actually, sir, I think he did.
WILKES
Change.
INT. GYMNASIUM. DAY.
Excerpted from The History Boys by Alan Bennett, Nicholas Hytner. Copyright © 2006 Forelake Ltd.. Excerpted by permission of Farrar, Straus and Giroux.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Hannah Moskowitz’s A History of Glitter and Blood is singular and sad, a disordered, deeply personal history of interspecies conflict in the fairy town of Ferrum. It’s half story and half love letter, full of crossouts, digressions, and occasional stabs at seriousness (quotes from other, drier works, visual aids). Fairy girl Beckan and her tribe, boys Cricket, Josha, […]
