Jeeves and Wooster
2.4: Jeeves in the Country
(aka Chuffy)
The plundering of Thank You, Jeeves elicits two more of
the series’ best episodes, the first of which finds Bertie retiring to the
country with a new valet, the insolent, incompetent and inebriate Brinkley (a
wonderfully sour, sullen performance from Fred Evans, who would receive an
encore in the final season), owing to Jeeves being forced to resign over his
master’s refusal to give up the trumpet (“not
an instrument for a gentleman”; in the book, it’s a banjulele).
Chuffnall Hall is the
setting (filmed at Wrotham Park in Hertfordshire), although the best of the
action takes place around Bertie’s digs in Chuffnall Regis (Clovelly, Devon),
which old pal Reginald “Chuffy” Chuffnell (Marmaduke Lord Chuffnell) has
obligingly rented him, much to the grievance of the villagers, who have to
endure his trumpeting disrupting the beatific beach (it’s a lovely spot, one of
the most evocative in the series).
Jeeves is snapped up
into the employ of Chuffy almost as soon as he leaves Bertie’s service, and
then (as a scheme by Chuffy) passed on to J Washburn Stoker, so he gets around
in this one. And again, the interweaving of mistaken conclusions, undesirable
encounters and conflagrant altercations (and actual conflagrations) translates
perfectly from the page, albeit the plotting has been pared down and
streamlined in order to divide Wodehouse’s plot into two distinct but connected
episodes.
Naturally, jealousy
abounds when Chuffy (Matthew Solon, also in The
Adventures of Sherlock Holmes’ The
Norwood Builder) learns that Pauline Stoker, whom he plans to marry, was
once betrothed to Bertie (“I can honestly
say, Pauline’s one of the nicest girls I’ve ever been engaged to”), which
is nothing next to the apoplexy with which Stoker views our favourite
privileged chump.
None of this is helped
by Bertie’s reckless plan to inspire in Chuffy sufficient jealousy that he
proposes to Pauline (being proud, Lord Chuffnell believes he should be able to support
his bride-to-be sufficiently, so won’t pop the question until he has made a
deal to sell the hall to J Washburn), which inevitably backfires. There’s much
amusement to be garnered from Bertie’s attempts to deflect an accusatory finger,
as he attempts to explain his proclivity for engagement (one friend suggested once that “the
sight of me hanging around like a loony sheep arose the maternal instinct in
women”) and protests that he only bestowed a brotherly kiss on Pauline in congratulation
her putative engagement to Chuffy.
None of this is remedial,
as Stoker locks Pauline up on his yacht to prevent her from eloping with
Bertie; she promptly swims ashore, breaks into his cottage and climbs into his
bed (“You’re in my heliotrope pyjamas!”)
Sharon Holm is very likeable as Pauline, and as Bertie says of her in his PJs, “They suit you, I must say”.
Bertie Wooster: Well, Sergeant Voules is an ass.
The ensuing string of
farcical incidents finds Bertie opting to sleep in the potting shed, where he
is discovered by nosy members of the local constabulary who earlier pestered
him: Sergeant Voules (Dave Atkins) and his nephew, Constable Dobson (William
Waghorn), with the now-arrived Chuffy convinced Bertie is “Tight as an owl”. There’s some very funny “stupid coppers” dialogue
(the police are always idiots in Wodehouse, just as children are always little
beasts), concerned as they are over “The
Danger of marauders getting through”, warning “The marauders are probably lurking, sir”, claiming that Bertie is “Shackling the police in their duties”
and leaving unimpressed when Bertie refuses to play (“Come, Dennis. He’s being obdurate”).
Bertie Wooster: The
Chuffnells look like a French army who just got to Moscow and discovered it’s
early closing day.
It’s the beastly
children who do for the plan to sell the hall (Chuffy can’t afford the upkeep,
although he still maintains the village) after a serious incident involving
Chuffy hitting Stoker’s son Dwight and J Washburne giving Chuffy’s nephew
Seabury a kick (“the dark inevitability
of Greek tragedy” as Bertie puts it).
At no point are we
intended to feel sympathy for Seabury, and it’s always refreshing how little
Bertie is persuaded by juniors’ charms (such that 2.6 is a particular
aberration). When Seabury, a devotee of gangster films, announces “I want five shillings, for protection”
Bertie’s response is an immediate “What?
You won’t get five shillings out of me”. The urchin is also blessed with a
dreadfully indulgent, apologetic mother Myrtle (Fidelis Morgan), given to such
wet remonstrations as “Don’t run, Seabury
dear. You might hurt yourself”. When Bertie hears Stoker aimed one at the
little tyke, his response is an awed, “Oh
Jeeves, tell me he got him”.
Pauline: I sometimes feel that he was a
king in Babylon, when I was a Christian slave.
Bertie Wooster: Really?
Well, you know best, of course. Very doubtful I’d have said, myself.
The supporting cast
are all on good form, although there is
a tendency to lay on the Noo-Yawk accents a bit thick, even from natives like
Manning Redwood (Stoker). His “Woooo-stir”
is always a very memorable bit of disdainful flavouring, however.
Bertie Wooster: What
ho, Brinkley. So, do you think we’re going to get along, what?
Brinkley: I don’t know yet.
Evans’ Brinkley is the
highlight of the episode, though, even if Anne Dudley is prone to overdoing the
“wa-wa-wa-wa” music that accompanies his antisocial activities. He’s entirely
antithetical to Jeeves, and any notion of civility and decorum come to that,
preparing Bertie’s meat pie with a fag in his mouth and then, when Bertie has
demurred after getting a sniff of it, commenting “I’m not eating that”. If there was a valet’s union, he would no
doubt be first in line (“I told him, I’m
not a machine, you know”). He doesn’t even feign interest in Bertie’s
troubles. It’s entirely appropriate that Brinkley should be responsible for
burning down the cottage (which leads to the discovery of Pauline, hidden
within, and blows rained down on Bertie).
Bertie Wooster: We
shall meet at Philippi, I dare say.
As such, Bertie’s
response (“I blame you for this, Jeeves”)
is, as usual, entirely fair, since it was Jeeves who initiated the turn of
events, and who ensured the trumpet was killed in the inferno. All is forgiven
of course, with the valet revealing his cow milking skills and that “Neither Mr Stoker nor Lord Chuffnell feel
themselves quite able to measure up to the required standard”. The best
adaptations have tended to require minimal pruning in order to keep the
essential brisk farce intact, and this is one of them, returning Season Two to
the high standard of the first couple of episodes.
Sources:
Thank You, Jeeves
(The “Babylon” line comes from Bingo and the Little Woman, Chapter 17 of The Inimitable Jeeves)
Recurring characters:
J Washburn Stoker
(2.4)
Pauline Stoker (2.4)
Lord “Chuffy”
Chuffnell (2.4)
Brinkley (2.4)
Seabury (2.4)
Myrtle (2.4)
Dwight Stoker (2.4)
Sergeant Voules (2.4)
Constable Dobson (2.4)
Agree? Disagree? Mildly or vehemently? Let me know in the comments below.