Bert Rigby, You’re a Fool 1989

Bert Rigby is a miner in a small, dying northern English town, Langmore, who carries a quiet fire for show business beneath his everyday toil. He tells his own story in a wakeful flashback, unfurling it as he sits in a smoky bar that doubles as his confessional. He lives with his music-loving mother and shares a wall with his sweetheart, Laurel Pennington, who resides above the pub and uses a hidden, bomb-shelter-like passage between backyards for their stolen moments. While his fellow miners drift through another round of strikes, Bert clings to a dream of performing, a beacon that grows brighter as the town grows dimmer.

His first real chance comes in an amateur show, where he climbs on stage and belts out Isn’t It Romantic?, only to be left with a nosebleed after a football injury. The mishap somehow endears him to the audience, and what should have been a stumble becomes a spark. He launches a touring amateur act, earning £50 a night, with his manager, Sid Trample, and Sid’s wife, Tess Trample, by his side. Bert sticks with the same routine for a stretch, pulling through with a steady pace until he tries a new flavor—an impression of Buster Keaton that energizes the crowd and pushes him toward a different kind of stagecraft. On the road, they stumble upon a crew filming a contraceptives commercial, a provocative detour that hints at the merciless practicality of fame.

A sudden invitation pulls Bert overseas to Hollywood, a glimmering promise that shines against the grey backdrops of his English hometown. He flies with Sid, hoping the trip will cement his career, but it also means leaving Laurel behind with a mix of pride and worry. In America, Bert lands a role in a Keaton-inspired ad directed by Kyle DeForest, a moment that seems to confirm the dream—only to be undermined when the demographic story behind the project reveals that many in the target audience have never heard of Keaton. A failed call home to Laurel follows, and another explosive swearword slips out as he slips on a wet bathroom floor, fueling yet another misunderstanding. Complications mount when he discovers Sid has cut and run, leaving him stranded and abandoned in a foreign land.

With nowhere to turn, Bert takes a detour into everyday labor—pizza delivery first, then a stint as a nightclub comic. A chance encounter with a grateful Hispanic man leads Bert into a new line of work as a tree pruner, and it’s there that fate takes a sharper turn. He meets Meredith Perlestein, the hot-to-trot wife of movie mogul I.I. Perlestein, and soon Bert is hired by the Perlesteins to serve as a house servant and to act as a technical adviser to the slick, self-assured film star Jim Shirley, who is playing a Briton in a big-name production. Bert finds himself navigating the awkward dance of keeping Meredith at bay while forming a wary bond with Jim Shirley’s son, a quiet witness to the ridiculous, glitzy theater that surrounds him.

A phone call home to Laurel punctuates the emotional swirl, and in that moment Bert dreams, perhaps for the first time without heavy heartbreak: he sings a soft, intimate rendition of Dream a Little Dream of Me. The Perlesteins host a dinner party that Bert attends in the role of servant, and the evening spirals into chaos when the curtain concealing a priceless masterpiece is accidentally set aflame, turning the room into a smoky, dangerous wreck of pride and embarrassment. The flashback ends with a bartender’s blunt truth: the person Bert has been telling his life to does not speak English, a reminder that the world’s language of fame often outpaces understanding.

Back in the present, Bert’s dance in the bar catches the eye of an ad producer, and the real-life arc of his story begins to tilt toward a triumphant return. He goes home to England with a sense of vindication, culminating in a triumphant screening of his white-hot beer commercial for White Gold in the town theatre. The night closes with Bert delivering a lively and buoyant rendition of the classic tune Puttin’ on the Ritz, a final flourish that seems to seal the journey from miner’s grit to the bright, dizzying world of show business.

In this portrait of a man chasing a dream through missteps and misadventures, the film paints a vivid panorama of small-town longing meeting big-city spectacle, where every setback threads a path toward a new kind of applause, and where resilience—the stubborn, stubborn kind—keeps the music playing even when the lights dim.