The following conversation took place between two of the Mercury's writers after emerging from a press screening of Mr. Bean's Holiday. —Editor

SCOTT MOORE: I love Mr. Bean! I find him drool-inducingly funny. Ha ha ha!

MATT DAVIS: I'm not surprised to hear that, Scott. There's actually still a bit of drool on your shirt, there. Wipe it off.

SM: What an ingenious plot! Winning an all-expenses-paid vacation to Cannes in the church lottery? What hijinks!

MD: Mmm-hmm.

SM: And what acting! What physical comedy! What highbrow humor! There were even people speaking French!

MD: You don't speak French.

SM: Nope!

MD: Vous êtes un imbécile des proportions gargantuan.

SM: Huh?

MD: I said this movie was not funny.

SM: But he's British—Mr. Bean?! He's from your country. Aren't you proud?

MD: No, Scott. To think Rowan Atkinson, who once starred in the razor-sharp BBC series Blackadder, has been reduced to whoring himself for cheap laughs makes me want to jump off a bridge.

SM: You mean like that guy in the movie? That guy who jumped off the bridge?! That was funny, man. I almost peed my pants!

MD: Yes, Scott. I think there's actually a spot of pee on your Dockers. But I don't laugh at suicides.

SM: You're not serious.

MD: I am deadly serious, Moore.

SM: You're a snob.

MD: And you're an imbecile of gargantuan proportions.

SM: [weeps]

MD: [hoots with laughter of sadistic glee] This movie is all that you deserve! Yet I am still ashamed of my countrymen for flogging it to you. Where once was class and intellect, now there lies cultural ruins.

SM: [sniffles]

MD: I wish I were dead.