Fawlty Towers Page 6

I love this show - pre-alternative comedy and yet still one of my favourites.
I think it is the best of its era and stands as one of the enduring all time greats - I can watch it repeatedly.

Series One episode order.

As great as FT is, it isn't perfect, not series one anyway, the less strong of the two series (one cannot use the word weak when talking about FT).

Always had a bit of a niggle about the order of the episodes, especially the choice for opening ep. A fine episode, and I know it was used as the pilot, and it has some introductory lines about Manuel being an idiot, but it has always felt far too 'straight in' to me, I've always seen this more as a natural mid series episode.

Why? Because it flies straight in with this quite sophisticated storyline that sets Basil up as a snob and a gullible fool, but we don't yet know the basic Basil. To introduce the Basic 'short tempered, discontented, half mad Hotelier who dislikes his guests' character that Basil is, and to introduce his world, Fawlty Towers, I've always thought it would be far better to have The Hotel Inspectors as the opener.

Recently watched series one again and it really works as an opener, I can't help thinking they missed a trick here, but alas we can't change time. I would have eps 1&2 as eps 3&4 in the middle, with ep 4 The HI, opening, follwed by The Wedding Party (making it ep2 instead of 3). The last two would be left in tact, they are the most memorable eps that gave FT its legendary reputation.

Be interested to hear what other fans think of this, as I am absolutely certain I am right.

Hmmm there or thereabouts. I do wonder though, was the fact that Polly was an art student ever worth establishing?

I have always thought it was a shame that series one didn't have Terry the chef. It was another person and another great character to bounce ideas and comedy off. "I can do paella you know" and so forth.

Quote: Agnes Guano @ May 7 2011, 11:21 PM BST

Hmmm there or thereabouts. I do wonder though, was the fact that Polly was an art student ever worth establishing?

View original

I heard on a commentary that they originally had her as a philosophy student or something I think. But they decided it didn't quite match. I don't suppose all ideas need to be developed fully? It was a way of contrasting Basil's values with Polly's and more importantly I suppose revealing more of Basil's attitudes and irritations - he's a bit like Alf Garnet about her art. Maybe she could have had an exhibition at the hotel and Basil could have created chaos there too.

Golly, imagine Basil having to hang a whole lot of pictures! "I'm doing them, I'M DOING THEEEEEEEEEEEEM!!!!!!!!"

How about they have an exhibition at the hotel for Polly as a favour. Basil is responsible for hanging the pictures. He goes into town to buy the nails but accidentally shop lifts them and his car gets clamped. Basil has to run from the police station to the hotel with the nails but the bag breaks when he is crossing the road and the nails spill out so Basil has to pick the nails up one by one while he almost gets run down by cars. He is late and because he hasn't hung the pictures he locks everyone out and won't let them in till he's done it.

Did anybody see "Payne" - the most recent American adaptation with John Laroquette?

I posted similarly in "American Adaptations" - but I had to share my thoughts here on "Amanda's by the Sea" - one of the American adaptations of "Fawlty Towers". Bea Arthur is a delight as Amanda Cartwright - the acid tongued owner of a bed and breakfast. Imagine crossing Basil Fawlty with Dorothy from "The Golden Girls". She is rude, sarcastic and judgemental towards the guests and domineering of her staff.

Her foreign belhop - Aldo - is the Manuel character and, like Manuel, is the incompetent roped into her schemes. Also like Manuel, he is treated with cruelty - even physical violence, by Amanda.

There are no opposite numbers for Sybil and Polly - and Amanda seems to incorporate elements of both Basil and Sybil - but Amanda's son and daughter in law feature as the family and her son, Marty, helps her to run the establishment since his father passed away. He is domineered by his mother and his wife, Arlene, is treated with contempt. There is also a laid back chef who provides a foil for Amanda.

The slapstick isn't as extreme as that of "Fawlty Towers" - but there is still plenty of it - and Amanda herself isn't treated so much as a figure of ridicule by the other cast members. This is probably because Sybil provided the nagging, ridiculing voice for Basil. Amanda does, however have her banker as a permanent resident - and he and Amanda share something of an antagonistic relationship.

Amanda is sometimes well meaning, but she is so imperious and arrogant that she misses what is really going on with the people around her - and a lot of comedy comes from incorrect assumptions that she makes - and then takes action on in he cantankerous way - much like Basil Fawlty.

The show is a delight, different enough from the original to avoid negative comparisons, but with a central 'sitcom monster' that is a joy to watch.

I'll see if I can call it up on YouTube, if they have it. Seen brief clips of the many shows in other countries that were no more than cheap parodies. Just all goes to show how outstanding FT was. And sitcom monsters are becoming rare, even the attempted use of them, and unfashionable with modern sitcom writers. For me the last great one or even good one was David Brent, but I haven't seen everything made since.

Well - Amanda is not a 'monster' to the order of Basil Fawlty, but she is a snide, controlling shrew a lot of the time. There is the occasional moment of softness - unlike "Fawlty Towers" - but it is still a very amusing programme that succeeds by not attempting to carbon copy something that was so specific.

Incidentally, some of my favourite post "The Office" sitcom monsters come from "The Mighty Boosh" and "The Life and Times of Vivienne Vyle" - but those cater to specific tastes.

Found this

Ch 1: FAWLTY TOWERS: The Robbers

 
Ch 1 of 10  »

 Chapter 1: The Roof
Polly Sherman glances about the empty lobby, pencil grasped loosely in her hand. Her bright blue eyes are wearily scouring the place for some inspiration. Finding none, she returns her gaze to some bland sketches of the room's stuffy furniture. An unexpected, cheerful burst of whistling catches her attention.

Basil Fawlty saunters into the lobby, grinning alarmingly. Confused, the waitress stares at her employer. Something is very wrong here. Very wrong indeed. Basil seems so... so happy. It's a rather disconcerting sight for Polly. She has simply become so accustomed to the hotelier's constant state of manic depression; his current, jovial appearance is extremely perplexing.

"Hello, Polly!" Basil sings, waving at the girl. "How are you on this beautiful afternoon?"

"Mr. Fawlty, it's miserable outside." Polly gently gestures at the windowpane, which reveals a gray and dripping world. "On the news they're saying that we're in for the storm of the century!"

"Ah yes, but it's a wonderful day nonetheless." Eyes twinkling, Basil strolls over and leans on the desk. "Do you know why?"

"Not really, Mr. Fawlty," Polly admits, bewildered by his jolly demeanor.

"Look around you!" Basil waves about the vacated lobby. "What do you see? Notice anything unusual about this place?"

"There's a mangy moose head on the wall?" she guesses, observing the tacky decoration.

"No." The buyer of the stuffed Alces alces cranium frowns, slightly offended. "No, don't you see? The hotel is positively empty! Terry's in the kitchen, making me a sandwich. Sybil's out visiting her witch of mother. Manuel's away... well, doing God knows what." The waitress bites her lip, bearing the secret knowledge that the Spaniard is currently off feeding his pet rat, which he has, despite Basil's threats, kept hidden in his room. "And best of all? None of those damn guests flitting about!"

"Sir, the Major, Miss Tibbs, and Miss G-"

"Permanent residents don't count," Basil counters, swiftly. "I'm talking about those nagging, nitpicking, Nazi-tourists that scurry in and out of the bloody place, alwayslooking for something to criticize."

"But aren't you worried about the lack of guests?" Polly asks, anxiously. "I know Mrs. Fawlty is."

"Silly Sybil. You'd think that after nineteen years in the hospitality industry she'd either stop caring so much or just lose her mind and get it done with."

"But, Mr. Fawlty, we're empty at the peak of tourist season. It is rather concerning..."

"I know that, dear. But think of it this way: without that dreadful riff raff mucking about, complicating matters, for once things are running right!"

"Running right into the ground," the waitress mutters, darkly.

"Sandwich's ready, Mr. Fawlty!" Terry calls from the kitchen. Basil skips off to receive his food, ignoring Polly's backtalk.

"BASIL." A fuming Sybil bursts through the front door. Her expression is extremely cross, her appearance disheveled. Leaves and twigs adorn her swirling tower of hair and she is brandishing a thin sapling like a stave. The overall effect is quite frightening. "BASIL?"

"Yes, dear?" Basil emerges from the kitchen, munching on a delicious sandwich. Bemused, he notices the small tree his wife is carrying. "Ah, the arboriculture convention ended early, then?"

"This landed on me as I walked in," his wife hisses, teeth gritted.

"Of course it did, dear!" Basil assures her, cheekily. "The weatherman did say cloudy with a chance of falling plants!" His teasing only increases her rage.

"Basil, this... this tree was growing in the gutter."

"I don't see how that's my fault," Basil snaps, exasperated now, "I didn't plant it there, if that's what you're implying. It's not my intention to cultivate a rooftop orchard."

"I asked you to clean the gutters last week! Basil, there's a major storm coming. If the spouts are clogged with leaves and bloody trees," Sybil vigorously waves about the sapling to emphasize her point, "the water will spill down and the wine cellar will flood again!" She snaps the slender trunk in half, angrily chucking the fractured wood out the front door. "Now, please excavate those down spouts before it starts to rain! I'll send Manuel to help you-"

"Don't bother, I'll just do it myself." Sulking, Basil slams down his lunch on the desk and stomps off to locate the necessary roof-cleaning equipment. Sybil grabs his sandwich, swiftly devouring it.

"Thank you, Basil."

"Anything for you, my livid lumberjack," he mutters, happy mood utterly destroyed.

Thoroughly soaked and immensely agitated, Basil scoops damp, dirty leaves out of the gutters and into a bucket with a small gardening trowel. It is softly drizzling, causing the roof of Fawlty Towers to become quite slick and dangerous. The hotelier is precariously perched at the edge of the roof, gripping at the shingles in order to steady himself.

"Please excavate those down spouts," he mimics his wife, seething. "Christ, what a nag. Basil, answer the phone. Basil, pick up some milk. Basil, don't hit those guests. Every bloody five seconds..." The tall, thin man flicks on his transistor radio. An upbeat tune blasts through the cold rain.

"If you ever get annoyed, look at me I'm self-employed! I love to work at nothing all day! And I'll be taking care of business (every day), taking care of business (every way), I've been taking care of business (it's all mine), taking care of business and working overtime."

"What a load of bollocks!" Basil bristles at Bachman-Tuner Overdrive's suggestion that self-employment is an incredibly easy way of life. He fiddles with the radio again, flipping the channel to a respectable news station.

"-issued flood warnings in anticipation of this upcoming storm. Officials have stated that flights across the south are to be delayed until the dangerous weather passes. It is recommended that civilians avoid driving in the storm unless it is absolutely necessary. Also, individuals residing on the floodplain should take measures to prevent water damage in their homes."

"Already on it, mate," Basil snaps, continuing to shovel.

"In other news, Torquay police have issued a statement warning residents to look out for a pair of robbers that have been terrorizing the region. So far, the duo have raided several convenience stores and a cheese shop..."

"Oh dear God, not the bloody cheese shop," Basil mutters, sarcastically, "What's society coming to? Surely a Venezuelan Beaver Cheese shortage will spark off mass suicide..."

"The robbers have also targeted several banks and local hotels." Basil's eyes bulge. The gardening trowel slips from his grip, clattering off the roof as he listens intently to the rest of the broadcast. "The pair's modus operandi changes depending on the situation, although police believe that all of the crimes have been committed by the same people. Witnesses have revealed that the couple posed as tourists in order to gain access to the hotels that they would later burglarize. In other cases, the police commissioner has stated that the duo, '...took part in some more standard-type robbery situations, basically holding up banks and stealing cars at gunpoint.' So far, no one has been seriously injured during the robberies, but officials say that the criminals are indeed '...armed and dangerous.'"

"Oh God." Basil grows considerably paler, contemplating the possibility that the robbers may select Fawlty Towers as their next target. "Oh dear God."

"Meester Fawlty?" The hotelier groans as Manuel hurries across the lawn, cheerfully waving up at him. "Meester Fawlty?"

"What is it, Manuel?"

"I come to help!'"

"What? No-"

"Mrs. Fawlty, she send me! I help you!"

"I don't need any bloody help!"

"¿Qué?"

"Just get out of here!" Basil angrily pantomimes the action. "I told Sybil not to send you out to annoy me!"

"No, Meester Fawlty, I no here to destroy you!" Manuel denies, vehemently, "I help you!"

"Ugg. Fine." Basil rubs his throbbing temples. "Just throw me up that garden trowel, would you?"

"¿Qué?" Manuel blankly stares up at his boss, confused about the requested item.

"The garden trowel!" Basil tries again, gesturing at the fallen horticultural tool.

"Como?"

"The bloody trowel! The garden trowel!" Basil fumes, pointing wildly. "It's on the ground right there! The trowel, throw me up the trowel! I need it to clean the gutters!"

"Ah! Sí!" Nodding, the little Spaniard sprints towards the front of the building.

"Where the hell is he going?" Basil growls, exasperated. "Manuel, you idiot! It's right there! No! The trowel's right there! Where I'm pointing!" The waiter returns after a few minutes, struggling under the weight of the obnoxious garden gnome he is carrying.

"What are you doing?" Basil hollers, staring at the gaudy yard decoration.

"Iz garden troll, sí?" the waiter calls up, hopefully. "I bring garden troll."

"TROWEL, you idiot, TROWEL, NOT TROLL! BESIDES, that's a bloody GNOME!"

"I throw you troll?"

"No! Don't-"

Manuel throws the garden gnome, succeeding only at nearly knocking Basil off the roof. The hotelier barely catches the bulky object, before furiously tossing it back at his oblivious employee. Concerned, the waiter catches the falling lawn ornament and gently places it on the ground.

"Meester Fawlty, you no catch?"

"NO! Of course I-ugg." Basil gives up attempting to reason with Manuel. "Catch this, you Iberian imbecile." Fawlty hurls the bucket of decaying leaves at the waiter. It's a perfect shot, the pail falls over directly the man's head, obscuring his eyes and becoming quite stuck.

"Ahh!" Manuel stumbles about, blinded. "No puedo ver!" Pleased, Basil watches from the roof as his employee trips about. Engrossed by the pain of another, he hardly notices the large cluster of people shuffling towards his hotel.

"Hey!" There are several startled exclamations as Manuel stumbles into the crowd, nearly knocking several individuals over.

"I say!"

"Watch it!"

"Ah!"

"Look out!" The confused group stares as Manuel slips and begins to painfully tumble down the front steps.

"It's okay!" Basil shouts, triumphantly. "He's from Barcelona!"

"Who are you?" a heavyset woman inquires, cautiously.

"The name's Fawlty. Basil Fawlty. I own the place. Who are you people? Are you all one party?"

"No." The speaker is a young, pretty American woman. "We've all come from the Exeter International Airport. The storm's picked up over there, it's caused mass cancellations, they're saying that the planes are going to be grounded till the rain and wind subside in a few days."

"Most've the nearby hotels are filled up," a bespectacled man adds, "Do you have any vacancies? We're all quite stuck here."

"Hmmm." Basil strokes his chin, as if deep in thought. "We might be able to squeeze some of you in. You can talk to my wife, Sybil, she should be at the front desk." Anticipating a lack of available rooms, most of the group scrambles into the hotel, striving to obtain shelter. Along with a few other concerned individuals, the pretty girl and her tanned male companion remain outdoors, staring up at Basil.

"Hey, man!" the American guy calls to him. "You shouldn't be up there! That storm's moving in fast!"

"You call this a storm?" Basil asks, mockingly. He notices the man's Florida Gators t-shirt. "Ah yes, you're from Florida."

"Yeah...."

"Not used to a bit of rain?" Basil muses. The Floridian shakes his head.

"Actually, Florida gets plenty of storms, terrible hurricanes-"

"Please, you namby-pamby Americans simply can't handle our typical British weather," Basil snaps, dismissively. 'Personally, I find it bracing." The hotelier stands up dangerously, smiling approvingly at the dismal weather. "This is a true man's climate-"

Thunder scrapes loudly in the heavens above. Four consecutive flashes of lightning momentarily illuminate the soggy yard. Squeaking, Basil wobbles and pitches straight off the roof.

Thinking about it, I've bought more different media versions of Fawlty Towers than anything else over the years. I had (still have, probably) the script books, I'm sure I had the records too, and I recall the VHS of the series was just about the first comedy series to be on sale in the UK (as opposed to just renting).

Recently came across an audio tape version of a couple of episodes, but the music had been taken out. Also, it was just a straight copy of the original, music apart, without any clues to the action. That gave me a taste to find the rest, again as audio tapes. This time though it has voice over to explain the otherwise unknown action, either by Andrew Sachs, or someone imitating his character... I should really look at the case to find out, but I'm at work, so can't right now!

You can get fawlty towers on cd from BBC audio

It's great to know that it can still offend. Someone was sacked from a care home for doing Basil's Hitler impression...