The Wicker Tree (2011)

Graham McTavish: Sir Lachlan Morrison

Photos 

Quotes 

• Sir Lachlan Morrison : Laddie, you are a prince among men, a king. We all, all salute you. You will give your life so that a new generation of our people will be born blessing your name. Children will be called after you. Hallowed be thy name.

• Sir Lachlan Morrison : They're both perfect. I was afraid we'd have to look further afield this year. What a little star, especially if she can sing. And rather beautiful, too.

  Lady Delia Morrison : In a corn-fed, apple-cheeks sort of way.

  Sir Lachlan Morrison : A perfect mate for a cowboy, then.

  Lady Delia Morrison : Absolutely. I bet she smells of the dairy, a musky bush, milky tits, and just a hint of warm cow shit behind the ears.

  Sir Lachlan Morrison : So you approve of her, then?

  Lady Delia Morrison : Oh, and that poor Steve, wearing that ridiculous silver ring and waiting 'til his wedding day. It really is another world over there in America, isn't it?

• Sir Lachlan Morrison : Morning, Lolly. How's my Prince today?

  Lolly : He's been missing you, Sir Lachlan. That's Beth Boothby, isn't it? Whoa.

  Sir Lachlan Morrison : Delia and I are throwing a special party for her at the manor house on Sunday. Everyone's invited, so spread the word. Beth, of course, is our very special guest. Lolly here is our head groom.

  Steve Thomson : What a beauty.

  Beth Boothby : Steve!

  Steve Thomson : Well, the horse, Beth. If that ain't one beautiful horse.

  Sir Lachlan Morrison : And, uh, I'm terribly sorry. This is Steve. As you can see, he's from America, too. How would you like to ride him?

  Lolly : I'd like it fine, but I think young Beth here would kill me first.

  Sir Lachlan Morrison : And you'd deserve it. You know very well I'm asking Steve if he'd like to ride Prince.

  Steve Thomson : Ride that horse? Are you kidding me? You bet.

• Sir Lachlan Morrison : Lolly's hospitalized the copper.

  Lady Delia Morrison : Well, I'm afraid we have not been successful with Beth. Magog is dead.

  [nonchalantly throwing the dead cat into a garbage can] 

  Lady Delia Morrison : Must have got to the milk. Beth, however, seems to be all right.

  Sir Lachlan Morrison : Well, Beame, you'd better deal with Miss Beth after breakfast, give her a shot of the usual.

  Beame : Yes, sir. Beg pardon, sir, but what if she's awake?

  Sir Lachlan Morrison : Then put her to sleep. Good God, man, how long have we been doing this?

  Lady Delia Morrison : Oh, pity about Magog. We will miss him.

  Sir Lachlan Morrison : Yes, well, the mice won't. Beame, get her ready for tomorrow before there are any more mishaps.

• Sir Lachlan Morrison : O blessed sun, our ancestors feared one terrible winter's day that you would set in the western sky, plunging us into perpetual night. And yet you shine upon us still. O glorious sun, accept our sacrifice that we may be fruitful once again. We pray that we may once more hear the sound of children's laughter in our midst.

• Sir Lachlan Morrison : I'll tell you what I believe. If I am a rabbi... Jevovah is my god. If I am a Mullar... Allah the merciful is he. If I was a Christian... Jesus is my lord. Here in Tressock, I believe the old religion of the Celts fits are needs at this time. Isn't that all you could ask of religion?

  [last lines] 

  Sir Lachlan Morrison : Our wonderful Laddie... Steve was chosen for his inate goodness, he is our gift to the gods... and they will love him forever... and reward us with renewed life here in Tressock. Now ladies and gentlemen it is my...

  [Mary knocks him back into the Wicker Tree and sets it and him on fire]