Of my least favorite character in one of my favorite books, The Mysteries of Pittsburgh by Michael Chabon, is said: “Phlox, recognizing early that she lacked a strong sense of humor, or rather that she lacked the ability to make up jokes, had memorized thousands of bizarre passages from books and from here and there, and had developed, in place of humor, an ability to drop these bombs into conversation, sometimes with incongruous, killer accuracy.” I do not aspire to be like Phlox in any way, but I do try, when cleverness fails me, to at least have the right thing to say in every situation, even if the words are not my own. I always cite my source, however; conscientious footnoting is essential for the habitual quoter.

Today’s topic, “The Quote I Use Most Often,” was an incredibly difficult one on which to decide, as there just isn’t any one quote I use much more than any others. That is, unless people want to hear about the bizarre need I have to randomly evoke Ghostbusters with “You don’t think the sign’s too subtle, Marty? You don’t think people will drive down here and not see the sign?” It’s a bit of a sickness, but one I can always count on J.T. and my dear brother, Robert, to recognize each time. But never mind that… I was about to explain that I’ve decided to cheat yet again and change today’s meme to “Most Quotable Film,” because it’s my blog and I feel like it, and frankly, because no one’s reading these anyway. Changing it thus gives me the opportunity to talk about the brilliant cult-favorite Withnail & I, which is arguably one of film’s great cornucopias of witticism.

It’s about two drugged-out, boozer actors in 1969 London who decide to get away from their fuzzy life of sloth and have a week in the country. Written and directed by Bruce Robinson, semi-autobiographical and made in 1987 with relatively little nostalgia, it’s given to the culture some of the best responses to all the crap that life can fling. Have a headache? It’s very satisfying to cry, “I feel like a pig shat in my head” and “There must and shall be aspirin! If I do not get some aspirin, I shall die, here on this fucking mountainside.” Try it yourself and you’ll feel that much better already. If you’re hungry and in need of protein, “I want something’s flesh” is a highly effective way of articulating it. If you ever find yourself in the middle of God knows where and you’re not quite sure how you got there or how to get home, “We’ve gone on holiday by mistake,” will be an almost soothing sentiment. Take a test-drive:

The screenplay is not just clever in circumstance, however. There’s a fantastic rhythm to it and a singularity to each character’s voice that makes even the most inane conversation amusing. After all, neither Withnail nor “I (Marwood, according to the script)” are the brightest bulbs in the marquee, and they’re not doing anything particularly interesting, but Robinson somehow keeps us riveted. To wit:

Marwood: What about whatshisname?
Withnail: What about him?
Marwood: Why don’t you give him a call?
Withnail: What for?
Marwood: Ask him about his house.
Withnail: You want me to call whatshisname and ask him about his house?
Marwood: Why not?
Withnail: All right. What’s his number?
Marwood: I’ve no idea. I’ve never met him.
Withnail: Well neither have I. What the fuck are you talking about?

It’s delightful through and through, but like every film made in that time period that was about the late sixties, it’s got its undertone of sadness and paradise lost. Setting a film in 1969 is akin to placing a story at the cusp of the outbreak of war, or of famine or recession; the audience knows what’s coming. It’s a representation of that moment where a generation has to grow up, and there are always characters who ride that tide and those swallowed up by it. There’s depth and pathos to Withnail & I, but the sparkling moments of hilarity are all the better for it.