Chicken Run (2000)

Julia Sawalha: Ginger

Photos 

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Quotes 

• Babs : Morning, Ginger. Back from holiday?

  Ginger : I wasn't on holiday, Babs. I was in solitary confinement.

  Babs : Oh, it's nice to get a bit of time to yourself, isn't it?

• [Ginger has given a speech about the the advantages of a life free from the Tweedys] 

  Bunty : In all my life I've never heard such a fantastic... load of tripe! Oh, face the facts, ducks. The chances of us gettin' out of here are a million to one.

  Ginger : Then there's still a chance.

• Ginger : I thought you were teaching us how to fly.

  Rocky : That's what I'm doing.

  Ginger : Isn't there usually some flapping involved?

  Rocky : Hey, do I tell you how to lay eggs?

• [Ginger slaps Rocky] 

  Ginger : *That's* for leaving.

  [pulls him close] 

  Ginger : And *this* is for coming back.

• [the chickens are panicking] 

  Ginger : Ladies, please. Let's not lose our heads.

  Bunty : Lose our heads? Aaaahh!

• Ginger : But you're supposed to be up there. You're the pilot.

  Fowler : Oh, don't be ridiculous. I can't fly this contraption.

  Ginger : Back in your day -- the Royal Air Force...

  Fowler : 6-4-4 Squadron, poultry division. We were the mascots.

  Ginger : You mean you never actually flew the plane?

  Fowler : Good heavens, no. I'm a chicken. The Royal Air Force doesn't let chickens behind the controls of a complex aircraft.

• Ginger : Think, everyone, think. What *haven't* we tried yet?

  Bunty : We haven't tried *not* trying to escape.

  Babs : Hmm. *That* might work.

• Ginger : I should turn you in right now.

  Rocky : You wouldn't! Would you?

  Ginger : Give me one reason why I shouldn't.

  Rocky : Because I'm... cute?

  [Ginger squawks to attract the farmer's attention] 

  Rocky : Hey, hey, hey, hey. Wwhat kind of crazy chick are you? Do you know what'll happen if he finds me?

  Ginger : [quoting him]  It's a cruel world.

  Rocky : I just decided, I don't like you.

  Ginger : I just decided, I don't care.

• Ginger : [whispering, right after one of the other chickens is killed]  We've got to get out of here.

• Rocky : Wait a minute. Let me get this straight. You wanna get every chicken in this place out of here *at the same time*?

  Ginger : Of course.

  Rocky : You're certifiable! You can't pull off a stunt like that; that's suicide.

  Ginger : Where there's a will, there's a way.

  Rocky : Couldn't agree more. And I *will* be leaving *that* way.

• Fowler : I don't like the look of this one. His eyes are too close together.

  Ginger : Fowler, please.

  Fowler : And he's a Yank!

  Rocky : Easy, Pops. Cockfighting is illegal where I come from.

• Ginger : Uh, Mr. Rhodes, perhaps I didn't explain our situation properly. We lay eggs; day in and day out. And when we can't lay any more, they kill us.

  Rocky : It's a cruel world, dollface. Might as well get used to it.

  Ginger : What part of 'They kill us' do you not understand?

• Rocky : [apparently training the chickens]  And left, two, three, and right, two, three and... stop right there.

  [chickens stop leaning to the side, confused] 

  Rocky : Oh, yeah. Down.

  [chickens stoop] 

  Rocky : All right, now: make little circles.

  [chickens start to spin] 

  Rocky : That's it, faster, faster... yeah, that hits the spot...

  Ginger : [Ginger looks up only to see Rocky sighing in contentment getting massaged; she walks over and clears throat; other chickens wander away, embarrassed]  I thought you were going to teach us how to fly.

  Rocky : That's what I'm doing.

  Ginger : Isn't there usually some flapping involved?

  Rocky : Hey. Do I tell you how to lay eggs? Relax. We're making progress!

  Ginger : Really? I can't help feeling we're going around in circles.

  [motions to the spinning chickens behind her] 

  Rocky : What the - ? Hey! Cut it out! You're making *me* dizzy!

  [chickens stop and start stumbling dizzily] 

  Rocky : I think they're ready to fly now.

  Ginger : Good. Because they certainly can't *walk* anymore.

• Fowler : [of Rocky]  I don't like the look of this one. His eyes are too close together.

  Ginger : Fowler, please.

  Fowler : And he's a Yank.

• Rocky : [lands in dough]  D'oh. Get it? Dough!

  Ginger : I'm stuck!

• Rocky : [Ginger falls down a chute]  Oh, shoot!

  Ginger : [falling]  Rocky!

  Rocky : I'll be down before you can say...

  [spots something about to be dumped on him] 

  Rocky : ... "mixed vegetables"!

• Ginger : We can't give you our eggs. They're too valuable.

  Nick : And so are we.

  [Packing up to leave] 

  Nick : After you, Fetcher.

  Fetcher : ...After I what?

  Nick : Move!

• Rocky : Ouch! What happened to my wing?

  Ginger : You took a rather nasty fall.

  Mac : [very fast, in strong Scottish accent]  And sprained the anterior tendon connecting your radius to your humerus. I gave her a wee bit of a tweak, Jimmy, and wrapped her up.

  Rocky : Was that English?

• [Rocky is about to be found by the circus] 

  Ginger : [blackmailing him]  Teach us to fly and we'll hide you.

  Rocky : And if I don't?

  [Ginger pulls breath to squawk] 

  Rocky : [stops her]  Was your father by any chance a *vulture*?

• Ginger : Um, I just wanted to say, I may have been a bit harsh at first. Well, what I really mean is: thank you, for saving my life. For saving *our* lives. You know, I come up here every night and look out to that hill, and imagine what it must be like on the other side. It's funny, I've - I've never actually felt grass beneath my feet. I'm sorry. Here I am rambling on about hills and grass, and you had something you wanted to say.

  Rocky : Uh, y-yeah. Um, it's just that, you know... life, as I've experienced it - you know, out there lone free rangin' and stuff - it's, uh... it's full of dissapointment, and, uh...

  Ginger : What, you mean grass isn't all it's cracked up to be?

  Rocky : Grass! Exactly, grass. It's always greener on the other side. And then you get there, and it's brown and prickly. You see what I'm trying to say?

  [Ginger starts nodding but then shakes her head] 

  Rocky : What I'm trying to say is... you're welcome.

  Ginger : You know, that hill is looking closer tonight than it ever has before.

  [Ginger accidentally touches Rocky's hand and they both pull away, embarrased] 

  Ginger : Well, good night... Rocky.

  Rocky : Good night... Ginger.

• Rocky : You know what your problem is? You're... difficult.

  Ginger : Why? Because I'm honest? I *care* about what happens to them! Something I wouldn't expect a Lone Free Ranger to know anything about!

  Rocky : Hey, if that's the way you go about showing it, I hope you never care about me!

  Ginger : I can assure you, I never will.

  Rocky : Good!

  Ginger : Fine!

• Rocky : You see, over in America, we have this rule. If you want to motivate someone, don't - mention - death!

  Ginger : Funny; the rule here is: always tell the truth.

  Rocky : Boy, that's been working like a real charm, hasn't it? Let me give you some free advice: you want them to perform? Tell them what they wanna hear.

  Ginger : You mean lie?

• [Edwina has been sent to the chop after she fails to produce any more eggs] 

  Ginger : Bunty, why didn't you give her some of yours?

  Bunty : I would have. She didn't tell me. She didn't tell anyone.

• Ginger : So laying eggs all your life and then getting plucked, stuffed, and roasted is good enough for you, is it?

  Babs : It's a livin'.

• Ginger : Listen. We'll either die free chickens or we die trying.

  Babs : Are those the only choices?

• Ginger : [Overturns the trough]  Something is wrong here; can't you see that? Strange boxes arrive during the night. Babs stops laying but they don't take her to the chop, and now they're giving us extra food. Don't you see what's happening? They're fattening us up. They're going to kill us all.

  [Chickens, with mouths full, gulp aprehensively] 

• Rocky : Is there a problem here?

  Ginger : Have we flown over that fence?

  Rocky : Not, uh... not quite.

  Ginger : Then there's a problem.

• Ginger : We need some more things.

  Nick : Right you are, miss.

  [opens suitcase and pulls out thimbles] 

  Nick : How about this quality, handcrafted tea set?

  Ginger : No, thanks.

  Fetcher : [holding a drain plug on a chain]  Or this lovely necklace and pendant?

  Ginger : It's love...

  Nick : [holding a shuttlecock]  Or this little number that's all the rage in the most fashionable coops in Paree? Simply pop it on like so...

  [pops it on Ginger's head, feathers side up] 

  Nick : And as the French hens say, "Voilá!"

  Fetcher : That is French.

  Nick : It's two hats in one, miss. For parties...

  [turns shuttlecock over] 

  Nick : For weddings. Oh, madame! This makes you look like a vision, like a dream.

  Fetcher : Like a duck!

• Mac : [very rapidly, with a thick Scottish accent]  Thrust! I went over my calculations, hen, and I forgot the key element missing is thrust!

  Rocky : [after a long pause]  I didn't get a word of that.

  Mac : Thrust. Other birds, like ducks and geese, when they take off, what do they have?

  [shouts] 

  Mac : Thrust!

  Rocky : I swear she ain't using real words.

  Ginger : She said we need more thrust.

  Rocky : Oh, thrust! Of course we need thrust. Why, thrust and flying are, well, like this.

  [crosses fingers] 

  Rocky : See, that's flying and that's thrust.

• [Rocky was hiding beneath Ginger's nest while Mrs. Tweedy was searching for him] 

  Ginger : Comfortable?

  Rocky : [strained]  Not, really.

  Ginger : [produces a plastic knife to wedge between him and the wood frame]  Maybe this'll help.

• Ginger : You know what the problem is? The fences aren't just round the farm. They're up here, in you heads. There's a better place out there, somewhere beyond that hill, and it has wide open places, and lots of trees... and grass. Can you imagine that? Cool, green grass.

  Hen : Who feeds us?

  Ginger : We feed ourselves.

  Hen : Where's the farm?

  Ginger : There is no farm.

  Babs : Then, where does the farmer live?

  Ginger : There is no farmer, Babs.

  Babs : Is he on holiday?

  Ginger : He isn't anywhere! Don't you get it? There's no morning head count, no farmers, no dogs and coops and keys, and no fences.

  Bunty : In all my life I've never heard such a fantastic... load of tripe! Oh, face the facts, ducks: the chances of us getting out of here are a million to one.

• [Fowler is hesitant about piloting the Crate] 

  Ginger : Fowler, you *have* to fly it. You're always talking about "back in your day"; well, *today* is your day.

  [extends to Fowler his medal] 

  Bunty : You can do it, you old sausage.

  Fowler : [stares at the medal for a moment, takes it, and salutes Ginger]  Wing Commander T.I. Fowler, reporting for duty.

• Ginger : This isn't good, Mac. IWhatever is in those boxes is for us, and I don't think it's softer hay.

• Ginger : Heaven help us.

• Ginger : There's a whole world out there.

• Ginger : [drags Rocky behind Hut 17]  If we don't see results by tomorrow, the deal is off and you're on your own. No more hiding. The farmers will find you, and it's back to the circus flyboy!

• Ginger : [shows the poster of Rocky to the chickens]  This is our way out of here.

  Babs : We'll make posters?

  Ginger : What's on the poster, Babs? What's *on* the poster? We'll fly out!

  Babs : He must be very important to have his picture taken. What do you suppose he does?

  Bunty : Isn't it obvious? He's a professional flying rooster. He flies from farm to farm giving demonstrations.

  Babs : Do you suppose?

  Bunty : Oh, absolutely.

• Ginger : Looks like I owe you an apology. I didn't think you cared about us, but after all this... Well, it seems I was wrong.

  Rocky : Hey, easy, Miss Hard-boiled. I might think you're turning soft.

• Ginger : Where is he?

  Fowler : They didn't give me this medal for being a Yank nanny.

  Ginger : [rolls her eyes]  A simple "I don't know" would suffice.

• Ginger : You've lied to them!

  Rocky : I didn't lie, doll face. I just... omitted certain truths.

• Ginger : This isn't good, Mac. Whatever's in those boxes is for us, and I don't think it's softer hay.

  Mac : Aye, hen. And I hate to be the voice of doom, but I've been calculating my figures, and... I just don't think we're built for flyin'.

  Mac : But I saw him. He flew in over that fence.

  Ginger : Aye, aye, I believe you, but if we could see it for ourselves, that might answer some questions.

  Ginger : [sighs]  You're right. I'm sorry. We've been at this all week and we're getting nowhere. If his wing were better, he could-- Oh! I'll have a word with him.