Rich as the 1980s were in movies exhibiting the kind of glossy fun that characterises knockabout brat-pack classics, few from that era surpass Weekend At Bernie's, the 1989 film that signifies its last gasp. In the film, an odd couple of junior executives (it's a buddy movie) are invited to their boss's island mansion for a weekend of luxury – only to find him dead on their arrival. To avoid awkward questions and prevent the jaunt from coming to a premature end, they're forced to cart around Bernie's corpse, propping him up to give the impression he's still alive.
Scoff all you like at the improbability of the situation, but if someone dies on you this Saturday, you'll thank us for saving your weekend with this collection of handy tips. Remember that as far as getting around goes, black cabs and cycle rickshaws are your friends: no cabbie worth his salt pries too closely into back-seat goings on, and since when have pilots of the three-wheeled menaces appeared to care about anything much at all?
First stop, Covent Garden. It's a prime spot for shopping, so take as much time as you like to do the rounds, enjoy the atmosphere of the piazza and maybe grab a bite to eat. Wait a minute, I hear you ask: we've got a stiff on our hands here. How's that kind of relaxation an option? Listen: this is Covent Garden, spiritual home of the irritating street performer – not the least numerous variety being the 'human statue'. Sit 'Bernie' on a bench, throw your cap on the ground and leave him to it. No-one will bat an eyelid, and in fact you'll probably make some money.
There's only so long he can keep up this act before someone does become worried, however. When you start feeling nervous, it's over to world-famous waxwork museum Madame Tussaud's nearby. Pay for two with the afternoon's proceeds and quickly make your way in. If your friend's starting to look the worse for wear, you might want to deposit him or her in the Chamber of Horrors; otherwise the back of a group scene will do nicely and you're free to enjoy the exhibits.
Feeling hungry after all that tourist stuff? Head back to Covent Garden; specifically, that very British, time-warp slice of establishment dining Rules. Insist on a table in one of the secluded coves that riddle the restaurant, and what with the pungent fragrance of all the game being consumed, your unfortunate pal should go totally unremarked. It's full of old duffers who've gone to sleep anyway.
After that, any show (or other dark surroundings such as the cinema) is a suitable way to continue the evening. Ventriloquist Jay Johnson, at the Arts Theatre near Leicester Square would be a good bet: hopefully you can rely on anyone encountered to assume that you yourself are merely a practitioner of the craft come to pick up some tips.
Party-goers should finish the night at notorious goth hangout Slimelight, which takes place at Angel's Electrowerkz club. Not merely a place to blend in, any Bernie is guaranteed nothing short of admiration, thanks his deathly pallour and unbeatably listless attitude. When the time comes to head home, stick the corpse in the back of an ambulance, say he's had 'a bit much' and scarper home.
All in all, it's a full programme of activities for you and your dearly departed: better than sitting around moping, isn't it?
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Robin Howells
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