Original subtitles

There is a photograph that sits on my desk,

taken long ago.

It captures my family, like flies in amber,

just before we all set out into the world.

Surely within the decade we'd all have married well

and be quietly breeding the next generation

of British aristocrats.

Unfortunately, it didn't quite turn out like that.

Here!

Instead, within a few short years,

we would all have gone entirely off the rails...

Decca! Pass it to me, fast! Fast!

How did it happen?

Well, it's a long story,

but this was the day that I first noticed

something was amiss.

Although I was the eldest,

you can't blame me for the rot setting in.

Lord, no.

It was definitely my sister Diana

who started the ball rolling.

She was the beauty of the family,

but she also had a will of iron.

My brother, Tom, was the only boy

and, as such, the heir to the entire family fortune.

So unfair.

Pamela was the quiet one.

But beware... still waters run deep.

And the youngest three?

Don't be fooled by their girlish antics.

Aaaaah!

It's mine! I want it!

One of my sisters would become

the most hated woman in Britain.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

"Oh, the sheer joy of this delightful house

with its garden, swimming pool,

and 300 acres of farmland,

the radiant Mrs. Diana Guinness has decorated the interior

in a simple, youthful way."

- Oh, stop. Don't read that. - Oh, quiet, simple youth!

"Her husband, Bryan Guinness,

is the dashing heir to the Guinness fortunes."

- Well! - Very dashing.

"And they already have two beautiful baby boys.

Surely, this is quite the perfect marriage."

- Stop it! - Who brought this rag?

Joss found it on the train. It's wonderful.

Thanks, friend. Ooh, ooh, this is good -

"Diana's sister, the Honourable Pamela Mitford,

is understood to be running the farm for the young couple.

Fancy, a female farmer!"

God!

How do they get hold of all this?

I mean, who on earth tells them?

They pay for it!

This kind of stuff shifts copies by the lorryload.

Joss is always hard up. It's probably him.

Oh, that's right. Blame the poor boy.

Ridiculous. Take it away.

"Her younger sister, Unity,

will be one of next year's debutantes."

If she learns to be more ladylike.

Nom, nom, nom!

Bobo, we should throw a coming-out party

for you next season.

- Really? - Yes, good idea.

Here or in the London house?

- In London, of course. - Yeah.

Yes? We'll do it.

Listen to this. "Her elder sister, Nancy..."

Ah, finally.

"published the most entertaining novel,

'Highland Fling, ' earlier this year"...

- Yay! - Hear, hear!

- Thank you, thank you. - Fancy, a female hack!

Quiet, you.

"which was dedicated to Mr. Hamish Erskine..."

- Ooh! - Yay!

"to whom, it is understood,

she is unofficially engaged."

What?! No, no, no. No, it's nonsense.

- Engaged?! - It's nonsense!

That is quite enough of that!

Thank you.

I promised Muv I'd have the piglets back by six,

so we need to be setting off.

No, no, no. Don't bother coming down.

No, I'd like to say goodbye. Give me a second.

- Nance? - Mm?

Is all well with you and Hamish?

Fine.

Fine. He's still young...

barely out of Oxford.

Not everyone wants to settle down and marry the minute

they're old enough.

Sorry. I didn't mean that. I just meant...

No. No, you're right, actually.

The thing is, unlike your Bryan,

Hamish actually has to earn a living,

and until he gets a job, we can't afford a place of our own,

so...

anyway, I've given him six months.

Good! Good for you.

And having a job, a purpose in this world,

is so important for a man.

Bryan's just had everything handed to him on a plate.

And a man without a purpose is...

What, boring? Surely not.

No, no. It's just...

content, I suppose?

Yes, that's it.

Bryan is perfectly content with everything.

Anyway, let's round up the girls

and get them back to The Fortress.

And there it was... my first inkling

that things might be about to unravel.

The estate we all grew up on

sat in a glorious corner of Oxfordshire

that had been in our family for hundreds of years.

And for all that time,

life had carried on here in much the same way.

But now times were changing.

Today we address a subject

that is fast becoming a matter of debate

across the countryside.

My father had lost a fortune in the crash,

and, consequently, we, like the rest of the country,

were facing a time of, well, economic uncertainty.

Oh!

Shh!

Denmark has embraced indoor pig-fattening

with remarkable success,

and Danish pork is now arriving on British shores

in greater quantities

and at prices that are hard to match.

This is the BBC,

and now, the news headlines.

The latest figures from the Ministry of Labour

show an increase in unemployment

of almost a quarter of a million people

in the last five weeks alone,

with the building trade, coal mining...

- Good God. - and metal goods manufacture

particularly hard-hit.

- Oh. Do be quiet. - This news follows...

Oh.

Ah.

Sweetheart.

- Darling. - Darling.

Wow, you're getting very good at that.

Where's Nancy?

Come on.

Nancy!

In six seconds, you will be late!

Two, three, four.

Good morning, Farve.

Good morning.

- Good morning. - Good morning, all.

Toast, Farve?

Thank you, Debo. Thank you.

- Muv, I... - Oh, Unity, elbows.

- Muv. - Elbows! And sit up.

- All of you, sit up! - Muv, Muv,

I found a girls' grammar school in Oakdale...

- Oh. Not again. - not far from here.

It's a day school, not a boarding school,

so I could come home every afternoon.

Darling, we've already been through this.

But could we just at least go and visit?

Girls don't need school.

We tried it once with Unity, and she was expelled after a month.

Utter disaster.

It was horrible!

"Uncontrollable temperament, " wasn't it, Bobo?

Darling, she wasn't expelled. We were just invited to remove her.

My kipper, please.

Anyway, you've got a perfectly good governess.

But I want to go to university,

and to do that, you have to pass exams,

and how can I pass exams with a stupid governess?!

That's a very rude thing to say about a person.

Anyway, if you went to school, you'd probably hate it.

- I would hate it. - All the boys all loathe it.

Mm, all that hockey. No animals.

- Yes. - Thank you.

But I really want to go.

School is for boys!

Understood?!

Moving on,

there are to be some economies made in this household

starting today.

Firstly, the central heating boiler

will be switched off forthwith.

But it's freezing!

It's spring, Nancy.

If you're cold, what do you do, Debo?

- Put on another layer? - Exactly.

Secondly,

hot baths will now be taken

every two days.

- Yes! - Thirdly, yes,

for the coming London season,

our Mayfair house will be let out to tenants.

- Really? - Mm?

But... But it's...

But it's Unity's coming-out year, isn't it?

Mm?

Which means we'll have a number of events

to organise in London, won't we?

Darling?

Well...

well, we can stay in the flat above the garages.

I'm sure we can all fit in there.

- It'd be tremendous fun. - Ow!

It's rather damp, though, isn't it?

Lastly, all females over the age of 18

will have their allowances cut by half.

I suppose I've got my wages

from the farm.

- Mm-hmm. - And how am I supposed to live?

You can desist from buying your fancy clothes

and your lipstick...

and stop going

to those abominable nightclubs.

- There are a number of... - That is my final word!

Jesus Christ Almighty!

♪ Arise, ye victims of oppression ♪

♪ Arise, ye workers of the world ♪

♪ Come all away from solid ground ♪

Aah!

Prepare to die, rebel!

No.

Bang!

♪ Arise, ye victims of oppression ♪

♪ Arise ♪ Aaaah! Fire!

What on earth is going on?!

For God's sake, you two, look at this mess.

Unity...

I expect you to set an example.

In a few months' time,

you're going to be dancing at balls with gentlemen.

It's high time that you two grew up

and started thinking seriously about your future!

Your father and I cannot keep you forever.

You're going to have to find husbands, and...

let's face it,

neither of you are beauties like Diana

or clever like Nancy

or practical like Pam.

Can't you see

that if you don't start behaving properly,

you're going to end up as penniless old maids?

Because no man in his right mind

is going to put up with this silly obsession you have

with rebellions and uprisings.

It's not silly!

It's happening all over the world.

Honestly! Now you have to start thinking of yourselves as women.

As wives, as housekeepers, as mothers.

These are all incredibly important roles...

roles you were made for.

Just tidy up this room, both of you, and yourselves.

Good God.

- Bang! - Bang!

I thank you.

After the war,

we were promised a land fit for heroes to live in.

And what have we got?

Meanwhile, despite being married

to one of the richest men in London,

Diana, too, was preoccupied with ideas

of rebellion and revolution.

Millions on the dole,

slum housing, and hunger.

In modern Britain, it's a disgrace.

This is supposed to be a free country,

but freedom, true freedom,

is the chance to work for a decent wage,

to feed, to clothe,

to house your family.

God, I hate these political evenings.

Which side is he on, anyway?

Was Tory, then Labour.

Now he's starting up his own party.

All over the shop, then.

A new economic system,

a system where all working people

will have the chance to share in the profits

they help to create...

an alternative to capitalism,

an alternative to communism,

a return to a Britain that is truly great

and powerful once again!

And we are the only party

that can actually deliver on these promises...

we, the British Union of Fascists!

I think real change probably is the only answer

when you look at the state of the country.

Well, let's... let's sneak off before he starts up again, eh?

Rather rude to leave so early, isn't it?

No one will notice.

I'll tell you what... we'll separate.

Give me a couple of minutes, and I'll meet you down by the door.

Mrs. Guinness? Oswald Mosley.

Everyone calls me "Tom."

- I don't think we've been... - Introduced? No.

But we almost have been so many times.

You were at the Sassoons' ball in July last year.

Yes, but I don't recall...

Oh, but... I recall... you...

most vividly.

Then, uh, in September, you were in Venice

with your... with your husband,

and I spotted you again.

You were crossing the Rialto Bridge...

like a vision.

So, you see, I, um...

Well, I simply couldn't let you go this time

without inviting you to dinner.

It's a... It's a fundraising dinner for the party.

May I send you an invitation?

I thought what you had to say was very...

persuasive.

But whether they, the British public,

are ready for radical change

is another matter.

No.

I think they're desperate

for change.

You may send an invitation.

Excuse me.

My husband's waiting.

Yes, of course.

Hello, darling!

- Hello, you. - Mm!

Darling!

So, my love, what can be so important?

Important?

Come on. You'd better blurt it out straight away.

- Don't keep a girl in suspense. - Blurt?

There's nothing to blurt, angel.

I just thought I hadn't seen you all week

and you must be in need of some entertainment.

On the telephone, you said you had something

especially important to say to me.

Did I?

Well, I do.

Well, it's how much I love you

and what an utterly delicious creature I think you...

Hamish...

I have gone to a good deal of trouble, you know.

I borrowed a dress, had my hair done,

come across town on the bus

because I couldn't afford a taxi,

all because I thought that tonight,

you were finally going to...

Oh, God.

Nancy, please don't.

Four years, Hamish.

- Four years. - Darling girl, look,

you know I love you with every inch of my being.

There's no one as clever as you,

as elegant or as funny as you are,

but marriage? Really?

It seems to me so very much not fun...

babies, nannies, jobs.

Can't we just squeeze in a few more months

of complete and joyous irresponsibility?

Please?

You know there is no one on God's green earth

I would ever consider marrying apart from you.

Now come on, my angel.

I have a mass of gossip with which to regale you,

plus...

an actual £5 note.

The night is young. The world is our oyster.

You are full of clichés.

Mm. And you are the light of my life.

You are drunk as a Lord.

Well, you can be, too, if you get your skates on.

I'll tell you what... let's ditch here

and go to the Embassy and dance.

Could I have some chocolate, Boud?

Do give a sister a square.

No, no. I do not want chocolate anywhere near this dress.

I hate this dress. It stinks of moth balls.

Well, there's no money for anything else,

so if you don't like it,

you're just going to have to stay at home.

She can't stay at home. The party's in her honour.

- Evening, all. - Tom, darling, how was court?

Uh... we lost.

- Oh, no. - What's for supper?

Haddock.

You will get what you are given.

I'll be going out, then.

More lovely boiled fish for the rest of you.

Tom, it would be less wasteful if you could let me know

your eating arrangements in advance, please.

It plays havoc with the housekeeping budget.

- Yep. - No, I'm serious.

Must dash. Bon appétit.

Ohh!

Oh, Unity, you hopeless child!

Oh, no! What have you done?!

Stop laughing! It's not funny!

Both of you stop.

It was my mother's responsibility

to see her six daughters happily married and provided for.

But things weren't exactly going to plan.

In Birmingham today

when hunger marchers clashed with police.

Thousands of protesters

are marching to London

to petition Parliament about mass unemployment.

Darling?

Well?

Did you have a lovely time?

Sweet of you, but there...

really is no need to wait up for me anymore.

- See you in the morning. - Huh?

Okay. Yeah.

That man Hamish is no good for Nancy.

I don't know why she's so attached to him.

Ugh. He's not a man.

He's a boy,

and not much of a boy, either.

Darling, is there anything I can do to help with the accounts?

You know, two heads are so much better than one.

No, no. No.

Perfectly under control.

Really?

- So? - Hmm?

All your deadlines have come and gone.

- Still no proposal. - I know, Joss.

I know you think I should walk away,

but I can't just give up on him after all this time.

We're so deeply attached. It would be like...

like cutting off an arm.

Alright.

Well, if you'll permit me to inquire,

have you two...?

No.

And you're quite sure that he isn't...

a fan of Oscar Wilde?

No!

No. We've discussed it.

He assures me absolutely not.

Okay.

Well, if it isn't that,

it must be the English problem.

Which is...?

The vast majority of Englishmen

are crippled with sexual shyness.

Dear God! Well, wh-wh-what's to be done?

Come on.

The woman must take control of things in the bedroom.

Me?

But I haven't a clue.

She must be...

direct without being domineering...

encouraging without being patronising.

In fact, she...

she must seduce him totally

without ever seeming to lose her virtue.

Oh, easy, wouldn't you say?

Ohh.

So good of you to come on your own, Diana.

I do hope Bryan didn't mind relinquishing you.

Oh, no. Bryan hates the opera.

But I adore it, so I'm always more than happy

to make up the numbers.

- Ah, here he is. - Emerald, forgive me.

You've met Mrs. Guinness, have you?

Yes.

Mrs. Guinness, of course.

What a nice surprise.

Right. Let's take our seats,

shall we?

God, I've missed you.

Shift over a bit.

What? What's this?

Well, everyone else does it at these house parties.

It's more or less what they're for.

Even people who aren't unofficially engaged do it.

Don't look so horrified and do give me a cuddle.

I'm freezing.

Mmm, you smell lovely.

What? What? What is it? What is it? What is it?

There's something I should have told you before,

but I didn't want to upset you.

Well?

My parents are sending me to America.

- What?! - For a year, at least...

possibly forever...

on Friday.

- Friday?! - I know! I'm sorry.

I-I-I-I thought I could talk them round,

get out of it somehow, but, well, I can't.

It's the party on Saturday. It's Unity's coming-out!

I know, but the ship sails on Friday.

They've got all sorts of job interviews set up for me

which I can't possibly delay.

They said they want me to make a go of things out there.

It's too awful. It's the last thing I want to do.

- Well, don't go, then! - I have no choice!

- You do! - I can't!

They've threatened to cut me off if I don't go!

- Well, let them! - I can't!

Darling, how will I survive?!

Well, when were you going to tell me, then, hmm?

Thursday night or... or just a telegram from New York?

Nancy, please. I've been in shreds about this.

Oh, hellfire and damnation, Hamish!

Why didn't you tell me before?!

Angel, I'm...

- I'm so, so, so sorry. - No!

Thank you.

Oh, hello. I'm just going round to the flat

with the party dress for Unity.

- Shan't be long. - Before you go, could I have

a word, please?

- Shall I take that, ma'am? - Thank you.

Someone saw you at lunch today...

with Tom Mosley.

That's right.

And on Monday I had lunch with Cecil Beaton

and last week with Harold Acton.

That's different.

Well, yes...

in a way.

This is more political talk.

I really think Mosley's on the right track with this new party,

and he has such... vision...

Stop it!

The man is a dreadful womaniser. It's common knowledge.

It must be so...

so humiliating for his poor wife.

And I'm afraid that people have already started talking

about you in...

in disparaging terms.

Now, it's... it's too late

to stop him coming to the party,

but I-I must insist that...

that you do not lunch with him again.

You're right.

I understand.

I'm so sorry.

1, 2, 3, flash.

Lovely. Thank you.

Where in God's name is she, hmm?

Darling, will you stop looking up there?

Everyone will think there's something wrong.

She's probably just saying goodbye to her rat.

Oh, God. You don't think she'll bring that with, do you?

Absolutely not. I warned her.

I wouldn't put it past her.

Mr. Churchill!

That's him?!

Mr. Churchill!

You should be ashamed of yourself!

Mr. Churchill, we're starving!

- Winston! - Diana Dyna-mite!

Well, look at you, dear girl. Marvellous!

To bed with you! And you!

- Oh, here she is. - Oh, that's a relief.

Oh, here she is. Excuse me.

- Yeah! - Bravo!

Thanks so much for the dress, Honks.

You are a brick.

Welcome to the grown-up world.

You know, Hugh Balfour keeps asking after you.

Very decent horseman.

Owns the finest herd of Angus cattle in the land.

And rich.

Awfully rich, I believe.

Yes. I wish I was a gold digger sometimes.

You could at least dance with him.

Might cheer you up, jigging about a bit.

You are sweet, Pam, but not tonight, thanks.

Pam?

Harry here is desperate to dance with you

but too shy to ask.

Off you both go.

I want everyone to have

a particularly wonderful time tonight.

Why particularly tonight?

Well, it might be the last party for a while.

Really? I thought you loved them.

You're so good at them.

Bored with it all these days...

all that aching small talk

when you think about what's actually happening in the world.

Speaking of which, how are you bearing up post-Hamish?

Oh... not...

very well at all, really.

And bad news travels fast, I see,

from all the pitying glances.

- Oh, Nance, I am sorry. - Mm.

Move along or I will call the police!

Feed the hungry! Give us grace!

- Hey! - Hey!

Hey!

Let me know when you have time.

♪ Feed the hungry, give us grace ♪

♪ Feed the hungry ♪

The only way to think about it, is that it's for the best.

You've been set free.

Now Hamish is out of the way,

you're ready to meet the man who's gonna be the true,

great love of your life.

I probably will get over him eventually, won't I?

Yes. Of course you will!

Meanwhile, life is bloody miserable.

Here I am, living at home,

penniless, and still a virgin at 28.

I mean, it's grotesque.

Hi.

Sorry. It's a really poor crop this season.

And I'm supposed to go through this round of parties

year after year, waiting to be picked?

Can't think of anything worse

than having to marry one of that lot.

You're right.

Don't let this pack of chinless wonders crush your spirit.

Anyway, there's more to life than hooking a husband.

Just pursue whatever interests you,

whatever it is you feel passionate about.

That's the thing.

Really?

And what do you feel passionate about?

For a long time, I... didn't know.

I was searching for something, I suppose.

But now...

well...

there's someone here tonight

who has some revolutionary ideas

about how this country needs to change.

I think he'll actually be prime minister one day.

Would you like to meet him?

Of course.

Come on, then.

- Well done. - Oh.

Mrs. Guinness.

Shall we match our spouses?

All right. Why not?

Well? How many proposals?

Oh, God.

If you could have seen them, Boud.

What a miserable bunch they were.

Stand aside!

- Relax! - Come on!

Ugh!

- Get up! - Aah!

- Get over here! - Get!

My God! They must hate us!

They're suffering out there

while we're... we're stuck in here like...

like... like dolls in a dolls' house!

Undo me, will you?

I was talking to a friend of Diana's downstairs,

leader of the British Fascists.

I'm going with her to hear him speak tomorrow night.

She says he's brilliant.

You should come with.

I can't imagine that anyone at this party

has the answer to the problems of those hunger marchers.

If they did, they'd be down there with them right now.

- Thank you so much. - Of course.

- See you soon. - Thank you.

The two people I need to speak to.

Oh, dear. What have we done?

- It was her fault. - Tom, It was not my fault.

I have to tell you both about something important.

Good God. What is it?

I'm leaving Bryan.

What? Y-You're joking.

You can't leave Bryan!

Why on earth would you leave Bryan?

Because I'm in love with Tom Mosley.

- Ah. - Mosley?!

Shh! Yes.

You can't leave Bryan for Tom Mosley.

Yes.

I'm going to ask Bryan for a divorce in the morning.

Oh. No. No, no, no. Did you know about this?

No. Well, no. I...

I mean...

Are you sure, Nard?

Bryan loves you so much.

And I can't bear the thought of hurting him.

Well, then don't leave him.

But with Mosley, it's...

something on a completely different level.

I can't explain it.

I just know I'm meant to be with him

for the rest of my life.

But if you leave Bryan,

your reputation will be ruined forever.

It'll be all over the press,

and you'll be hated by everyone who loves Bryan,

which is everyone.

Aren't you gonna tell her

that she'd be throwing everything away?

I...

I think she knows exactly what she's throwing away.

Bryan is a wonderful father,

and he'll see the children whenever he likes.

They'll always have two parents who love them deeply.

I know in my heart I'm doing the right thing.

And I want you two especially

to try to understand that.

Ah, there you are.

Bryan.

Come on. It's the last dance,

and you haven't danced with me all evening.

Diana's decision that night

to walk out on her perfect life

in pursuit of passion

felt utterly cataclysmic.

At the time, I rather admired her rebellious panache,

though, of course, back then,

I didn't know how dangerous Mosley would become.

And she certainly set a precedent for the younger ones.

Why shouldn't they, too, follow their hearts and dreams?

Why shouldn't they make their mark on the world

and to hell with the consequences?

This was the calm before the storm.

But in a few short years,

all hell would indeed break loose...

and not just for my family

but for the world.

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