Saturday Night and Sunday Morning

Synopsis: Arthur, one of Britain's angry young men of the 1960s, is a hardworking factory worker who slaves all week at his mindless job for his modest wages. Come Saturday night, he's off to the pub for a loud and rowdy beer session. With him is Brenda, his girlfriend of the moment. Married to a fellow worker, she is nonetheless captivated by his rugged good looks and his devil-may-care attitude. Soon a new love interest Doreen enters and a week later, Brenda announces she's pregnant. She tells Arthur she needs money for an abortion, and Arthur promises to pay for it. By this time, his relationship with Doreen has ripened and Brenda, hearing of it, confronts him. He denies everything, but it's obvious that their affair is all but over.
Genre: Drama, Romance
Director(s): Karel Reisz
Production: MGM Home Entertainment
  Won 3 BAFTA Film Awards. Another 7 wins & 3 nominations.
 
IMDB:
7.7
Rotten Tomatoes:
100%
TV-PG
Year:
1960
89 min
1,591 Views


Nine-hundred and fifty-four.

Nine-hundred and fifty-bloody-five.

Another few more,

and that's the lot for Friday.

14, 3 and tuppence

for 1,000 of these a day.

No wonder I've always got a bad back,

though I'll soon be done.

I'll have a fag in a bit.

No use working every minute God sends.

I could finish in half the time

if I went like a bull...

...but they'd only slash me wages,

so they can get stuffed.

Don't let the bastard's grind you down.

That's one thing I've learned.

Jack's one that ain't learnt it.

He wants to get on.

"Yes, Mr. Robboe. No, Mr. Robboe.

I'll do it as soon as I can, Mr. Robboe".

And look where it got Robboe,

a fat gut and lots of worry.

Fred's all right.

He's one of them who knows

how to spend his money, like me.

Enjoys himself.

That's more than them poor beggars know.

They got ground down before the war

and never got over it.

I'd like to see anybody try

to grind me down. That'd be the day.

What I'm out for is a good time.

All the rest is propaganda.

- Do you want your money, mum?

- Okay.

Here you are.

Everything go off all right at work?

Aye, all right.

Did you hear about the accident

in the three-speed shop today?

No, not much.

Another cup of tea, Vera, luv.

I got you someaught good,

seeing as it's Friday night.

This fellow got his hand caught in a press.

He didn't look at what he was doing.

'Course, he's only got one eye...

...he lost the sight in the other

watching telly day after day.

Ta, luv.

Mind what you're doing, can't you?

That Arthur Seaton's going to get

a good rattling one of these days.

- Busy tonight, isn't it?

- You should see next door.

There's a boozing match going on.

A young chap.

- He's downed eight pints already.

- Eight pints? He's having a good time.

Bring us another couple of pints.

- Want help down there?

- I'll let you know if I do.

That sailor's near had it, if you ask me.

Thanks, George. Take one for yourself.

"What do you want

if you don't want money?

"What do you want if you don't want gold?

"Say what you want

and I'll give it to you, honey

"Wish you wanted my love, baby"

Come on, then, sup up!

I've lost count now.

All right, there's plenty of time.

Get the stuff down.

They'll be closed in a bit.

You won't get anymore

till 12:
00 tomorrow.

Don't worry, I will.

He's out.

Make sure you don't fall.

I don't know how he does it, I really don't.

Not that it's anything to be proud of.

You get thirsty working

that machine all week.

- I'm going over.

- All right, but hurry up.

It will be closing time

in a couple of minutes.

Pint.

- Now then, what is it?

- A pint.

Time, now, ladies and gentlemen, please.

Look what that young beggar's done.

This is my best suit.

Cheeky daft, isn't he?

Don't even apologize.

Go on, apologize.

Don't just sit there. Do something!

Time, ladies and gentlemen, please.

Did you get in through

the scullery window?

You never think, do you?

You'll have all the neighbors talking.

I left the pub in a hurry,

or I'd have waited for you.

I heard all about it.

Falling down stairs and spilling

your beer on that woman.

Wasn't my fault.

Somebody pushed me from behind.

I tripped on the rail

coming down the stairs.

I'll believe you. Thousands wouldn't.

I'm not going in that pub again

until they get that rail fixed.

Come here.

What for?

You shouldn't have drunk all that beer

with that loudmouth.

You've had a drink.

I can smell it a mile off.

I don't know what you're talking about.

I've had two beers

and a couple of orange squashes.

You can't call that boozing, now, can you?

Don't let's stay down here too long.

Let's go upstairs.

Come on.

I wish Jack would bring your lad

from Skeggy every week.

I'll bet you do.

He'll be gone till tomorrow.

Best make the most of it.

- Don't worry.

- Can't you wait till we get upstairs?

Come on, Brenda, wake up, duck.

That's nice.

What's the time, luv?

It's half past 11:00.

What?

You're having me on again.

Of all the liars,

you're the biggest I've ever known.

I always was a liar, a good one and all.

Liars don't prosper.

It's only 10:
00.

Good.

What a time we had last night.

It seems years.

You're lovely Brenda.

Pour us some more tea, duck.

It's thirsty work, falling down stairs.

Two, ain't it?

Thanks.

You're good to me Brenda, luv.

And don't think I don't appreciate it.

It'll be the last breakfast you have

in this house if you don't hurry.

Jack will be home soon.

No more kiss and cuddle if he sees you.

- When shall I see you again?

- I don't know. Not for a while.

We don't want Jack catching on, do we?

What about the welfare club?

Can't we meet there for a change?

Tell him you're in the dance team.

He'll believe you.

I don't know. Work next week.

I'll be hard at it,

sweating me guts out at that lathe.

It's a hard life if you don't weaken.

No rest for the wicked.

Come on, hurry up, will you, please?

He's coming on the bike, I think.

Get a move on.

- I'll see you.

- Get going, will you?

Hello, Mum!

Come on, Tommy,

let's get your clothes off.

Give us that.

How did my duck

get on at the seaside?

Have a nice time?

- We had a good time, didn't we?

- Smashing.

I didn't expect you back so soon.

We had a clear run

all the way down from Lincoln.

Who's in there?

Nobody as I know.

Perhaps a cat got in.

- He was on the run, remember?

- He settled her, though.

- Threatened to chuck her off Trent Bridge.

- I'd forgotten.

She decided to settle for a quid a week

out of court rather than get a good wash.

- Never heard a word after that, did we?

- No!

You're out of your way, aren't you?

Your two kids are outside

covered in ice cream.

- No wonder they never eat dinner.

- Go out last night?

Yes, we went to Flying Fox, and oh, dear!

I had so many gins,

I thought I'd never get home.

As long you as had a good time.

A beer and stout.

- What you having?

- Same again.

I'll have a stout as well.

You should have been with us.

Ethel clicked with a bloke and he

brought us all drinks, the whole gang of us.

He must have gone through 5 quid,

the soft bastard.

He had a car. I suppose he could afford it.

He thought he had a good thing.

You should've seen his face drop when

she went home with us instead of him.

I wish I'd been there.

You can't beat a bit of fun can you?

- How's your mum these days?

- She's all right. She's got a lot to do.

How's Johnny getting on in Australia?

You know, I reckon

Johnny's better off out there.

- He never did well in this country, did he?

- Though he always was a good worker.

He had to be, poor beggar.

He had it hard when he was a kid.

Me and your mum struggled

to bring your lot up.

- Them was rotten days.

- I know.

- It won't happen again, I'll tell you that.

- I was talking to a bloke.

He's always going on, you know,

"You can't beat the good old days".

I got hold of my pick, and I said:

"Say anything else about the

'good old days', as you call them...

...and I'll split your stupid head open".

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Alan Sillitoe

Alan Sillitoe (4 March 1928 – 25 April 2010) was an English writer and one of the so-called "angry young men" of the 1950s. He disliked the label, as did most of the other writers to whom it was applied. He is best known for his debut novel Saturday Night and Sunday Morning and early short story The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner, both of which were adapted into films. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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