All language subtitles for 1984 (1956) Drama, Sciencefiction, George Orwell

Last Sunday before the play,
we gave a warning

suggesting, perhaps,
that you might not wish

some members of your family circle
to watch this piece.

So much has happened since then,
so much has been written

and so much said,
there's little more I need add.

We have heard words like "disgusting”
and "immoral" used.

Well, the play is none of these things,
but it is grim, frightening

and at times, shocking.

Shocking in the sense
that we are all shocked

when we are brought face to face
with a picture

of man's inhumanity to man

or worse,
his inhumanity to the spirit of man.

Now, tonight, I'm thinking particularly
of the new viewers

in Aberdeen whom I left early
yesterday morning.

We had planned that, on Tuesday,
we should all have had the light relief

of the witty, charming comedy

about Aberdeen,
rehearsed and played from Aberdeen

set in the old university by the cathedral.

That couldn't be, and so tonight,
you in Aberdeen

are seeing your first television play,
and it's Nineteen Eighty-Four.

Even for some of you,
it may be the first play you've ever seen.

Well, will you please use your judgements

as to whether some of those
sitting at home with you

should or should not see this piece.

There's only one other thing
I want to add, and that is

as you sit there watching it

and as the last frightening pictures
fade on the screen

do remember this.

To me, the most alarming thing in the play

is the fact that it has no hope.

And as the mortally ill author,
George Orwell

preciously brought his one script
south from Glasgow to London

he couldn't find it within him
to give hope to the play.

But I'm sure that he would wish us tonight,
and I think this is important

as we watch this piece
and watch the end of it

find from our own resources,
from our own hearts

and our own souls and minds

that hope and belief in ourselves,
in mankind

that is not there in the play.

This is one man's
alarmed vision of the future

a future which he felt might,
with such dangerous ease

be brought about.

Atomic war

famine, revolution

the collapse of a civilisation...

and then, in its place,
the formation of a new way of existence.

This, in 1984, is London

chief city of Airstrip One

a province of the state of Oceania.

KZ-6090 Smith W.

Face the telescreen.

You have been at the window of Bay 2
of the Records Department

for over 80 seconds.

What are you doing there?

I came for a replacement valve,
for my speakwrite.

- Your speakwrite ceased to function?
- Yes. Just now.

You should have notified the fault.

Only a moment's work.
I've found the right type of valve.

Put it back!

You know it would have been brought
to your work cubicle on request.

This irregularity has been recorded.

Return to your cubicle, Smith.

KZ-6090 Smith W,
the repair to your apparatus

will be executed immediately.

Correction required as follows.

The Times of 17th March 1984,
copy sent herewith

contains report of speech by Big Brother.

He is alleged to have predicted that Eurasian
forces would launch attack in North Africa.

Please rectify in accordance with facts.

Good evening.

Your technical fault has been put right?

Yes, I'm able to go on now.

"In his broadcast speech last night,
Big Brother referred in confident terms"

"to the probability of a full-scale
Eurasian offensive early next month."

"There is now no possible doubt, ' he said,
'that it will take place in North Africa."

"Other fronts are
expected to remain quiet."

An extraordinary error.

The speech was evidently misreported.

Grossly misreported,
since the offensive in fact came in India.

South India. Three days ago.

Exactly.

Such a careless report...

must not exist.

Routine correction to Times
of 17th March 1984, where shown.

Quote: In his broadcast speech last night,
Big Brother referred in confident terms

to the probability of a large-scale
Eurasian offensive early next month.

"There is no possible doubt," he said.
"It will be launched in South India."

Other parts are expected to remain quiet.

Reprint entire back number and file.

Stand by.

Everyone complete what you are now doing
and stand by.

There are 45 seconds to go
before the Two Minutes' Hate.

Correction required as follows.

The Times of 19th December 1983

contains report of statement
by the Ministry of Plenty.

Refers to, quote,
"categorical pledge," unquote

of no reduction in chocolate ration
during 1984.

Please rectify.

Thirty grams a week reduced to 20...

Routine correction to Times
of 19th December 1983 where shown

quote, a spokesman for
the Ministry of Plenty stated last night

that it will be necessary to reduce
the chocolate ration

to 20 grams in April, unquote.

Reprint entire back number.

Final warning.

Stand by, comrades,
for the Two Minutes' Hate.

This is the face of our enemy.

Look at him, the Eurasian butcher

the reveller in atrocities,
the world-criminal!

This is the enemy our brave
soldiers fight -

In the jungles and the deserts
and the polar snows.

This is the enemy against whom

our brave sailors
man the Floating Fortresses.

This is the enemy we can see!

But worse than he, is the enemy within.

The enemy of the people!

Emmanuel Goldstein!

Traitor to the Party.

Arch-conspirator,
leader of the accursed Brotherhood!

Director of spies and saboteurs.
This is he!

For Goldstein, we can feel only one thing.

Hate! Hate!

Hate for Goldstein,
because he would stab us in the back.

Hate!

Because from his hiding place, he helps
and directs our Eurasian enemies!

Hate! Hate! Hate! Hate!

And now in this film

which has fallen into
the hands of the Party

hear the voice of the traitor himself!

The Revolution has been betrayed!

- Liar!
- Traitor!

- Listen to him!
- "Betrayed!"

I was one of the leaders of that Revolution

so who should know better
the ideals for which we fought?

- Traitor!
- Traitor!

- Saboteur!
- Traitor!

Here, in enforced and undeserved exile

I weep to hear of the
ruin of all our plans.

Go on, weep then!

- Liar!
- Hypocrite!

Where today is the freedom
that was promised to Oceania?

There is no freedom of speech,
no freedom of thought

no freedom of assembly,
no freedom of the press!

Freedom is slavery!

Freedom is slavery!

Freedom is slavery!

What remains of the ideal of peace?

Universal peace?

Peace with our neighbours,
peace to till the soil. Peace!

War is peace!

War is peace!

War is peace!

The whole of Oceania
is plunged in ignorance!

Universal and abysmal ignorance!

Ignorance even of the most elementary
principles of democracy!

Ignorance is strength!

Ignorance is strength!

Ignorance is strength!

The dictatorship of the Party

must be overthrown!

I call upon the people
to destroy the tyrant

who calls himself Big Brother!

Swine! Swine! Swine!

Down with Goldstein!

Down with the enemies of the Party!

Kill him!

Smash him!

Torture him!

Kill him!

Down with Goldstein!

Hate!

I hate him.

I hate him! I hate him!

I hate Big Brother.

Down with Goldstein! Down with Goldstein!

Down with Goldstein!

Remember what I say!

I am speaking the truth!

I call upon the people to follow me!

Follow me!

Follow me

or die!

Big Brother!

Watch over us!

You save us!

You help us!

- Our protector!
- Big Brother!

B.B.

B.B.!

B.B.

Oh, Syme?

Smith.

- What is it?
- Are you going to the canteen?

- Of course.
- Look, I'll join you, if you don't mind.

Now, please, come along there.

Them's stew with salt.
Them's stew without.

Now, now! Come on, please.

Them's stew with salt.
Them's stew without.

By the way, Smith...

I suppose you haven't got any razor blades?

Not one.
I've tried all over the place. They...

They don't exist any longer.

Sometimes, people have a few hoarded away.

I've been using the same blade for weeks.

Now then. Come on, then!

Which...

Them's stew with salt.
Them's stew without.

Any gin today?

Give me one.

That's, um... 25 cents altogether.

- Um... Gin.
- Look.

There's a free table under that telescreen.

I'll join you.

Now then, come on there!

Them's stew with salt.
Them's stew without.

Now then, come on there!

Them's stew with salt.
Them's stew without.

Them's stew with salt...

You looked in need of that.

The Two Minutes' Hate
can be quite exhausting.

Did you go to see the prisoners
hanged yesterday?

No, I was working.
Telescreens are bound to show it soon.

A very inadequate substitute.

Them's stew with salt.
Them's stew without.

Come on, there!

How's the stew today?

It's alright. Oh, it's very good.

You're hard at work on the dictionary,
I suppose?

Yes. I've reached the adjectives at last.

It's fascinating,
working in the Research Department.

We're in constant touch
with our colleagues in New York.

Getting the language into its final shape.

"Newspeak".

I can see we'll have a busy time
when it becomes compulsory

learning all the new words
your department's invented for us.

We're not only inventing words.
We're destroying them.

Scores of them, thousands every day.

It's beautiful.

- Beautiful?
- The simplicity of it, of course.

Oh, for one example,
just take the word "good".

If you have that,
what need for the word "bad"?

"Ungood” does just as well.

Then instead of a string of vague
extra words like "excellent” and "splendid"

you have "plusgood” or stronger still,
"doubleplusgood".

In Newspeak, the whole notion of goodness
and badness will be covered by six words

in reality, by only one word.

Don't you see the beauty of that, Winston?

It was B.B.'s idea originally, of course.

I do my best to keep up
with the published changes.

Do you? Yes, I've read
some of those little pieces

you've had published in the Times,
occasionally.

In Newspeak, too.

Good in their way, but only translations.

You were still thinking in Oldspeak

clinging to useless shades of meaning.

"To be or not to be..."

The verb "to be" is abolished
in the 11th Edition.

"..That is the question."

Oh, Shakespeare.

"Whether 'tis nobler in the mind"

"to suffer the slings and arrows
of outrageous fortune, or to..."

"Or to..."

I forget how it goes.

It doesn't matter.

By the year 2050, the whole literature
of the past will have gone.

Milton, Byron, Chaucer,
they'll exist only in Newspeak forms.

As they are, they could only do us harm.

- Harm?
- By confusing us.

You know the Newspeak phrase,
"Oldthinkers unbellyfeel Ingsoc"?

"Old thinkers", you're one.

"Unbellyfeel",
"lack a deep emotional understanding of"

- "Ingsoc.”
- English Socialism.

A meaning, it's completely lost.

You see, you can't translate Newspeak.

Even the Party slogans are changing.

How will you say "freedom is slavery"
when the word "freedom" no longer exists?

Oh, I'm sorry.

I'll move my chair if I'm in your way.

You see, Winston, this is the point.

Winston.

The whole aim of Newspeak

is to narrow the range of thought.

Er, to... to narrow the range of thought?

In the end, we'll make thoughtcrime
literally impossible

because there'll be no words to express it.

That's excellent, but even now,
there's no excuse for thoughtcrime.

It's just a question of reality-control,
of self-discipline.

When Newspeak is perfect and compulsory,
there won't be the need even for that.

The Revolution will be complete.

Have you ever thought...

in 70 years or so, there'll be nobody alive

who could possibly understand
this conversation we're having?

- Except...
- Except the proles?

They're not human.

Look at that creature over there
with the ladle.

"Them's stew with salt,
them's stew without."

Thoughts like that don't need simplifying.

Thoughts!

Have you been into a prole sector lately?

Why?

Looking for razor blades possibly?

- That isn't forbidden.
- No, it's not forbidden. Have you?

- I believe once a few months ago.
- Then you must have seen!

They're not human, they've no minds.
They live by instinct.

The proles are animals.

I know what you're thinking.

Even animals have a memory.

- I wasn't thinking anything.
- The proles haven't.

If you'd asked any one of them
about the past.

The past, Syme, shh!

Oh, here's Parsons.

Hello, hello there! Mind if I join you?

Oh, look at him
working through his supper hour.

Keeness!

What's that you've got there,
old boy?

- It's a new grammatical...
- Oh, too brainy for me, I expect!

Rocket bomb in the prole sector,
by the sounds of it.

Eurasian swine.

Smith, old man,
I tell you why I'm chasing you up.

- It's about that sub you forgot.
- Another one?

Yes, for the house-to-house
Campaign for Hate Week.

Bad luck for old Smith, having the
treasurer for a next-door neighbour!

It won't be my fault
if old Victory Mansions doesn't have

the biggest outfit of flags
in the whole street.

- Two dollars you promised me.
- I'm sorry.

- I don't seem to have that much on me.
- Oh.

You chaps eat too well, that's what it is.

- Suppose I call in with it tonight?
- Alright, yes.

Anybody want that bit of cheese?

Comrades, attention!

Here is glorious news!

An announcement from the Ministry of Plenty
reveals that over the past year

All over Oceania today, there have been
spontaneous demonstrations

to thank Big Brother
for our new, happy life.

As announced in our last bulletin, there
has been a change in the chocolate ration

an increase to 20 grams a week!

- Increase?
- Hear that? Isn't it wonderful?

Oh, my kids will be pleased.

Now, here are some details of
increased output in other consumer goods.

The chocolate ration
was reduced to 20 grams only yesterday.

Yes, they believe it.

Doublethink.

They make themselves believe it.

"Our new happy life!"

Grease and grime,
the smell of dirty clothes

and synthetic gin... and that stew!

Careful.

Facecrime.

...wooden scaffolding, 259%

razor blades, 141%

and semi-mechanical excavators
for clearing bombed areas, 14%.

That is the end
of the Ministry of Plenty announcement.

Oh, Miniplenty's certainly done
a wonderful job this year.

By the way, old man,
have you got any razor blades to spare?

- I mean, till some are on sale again?
- Sorry.

I've been using the same one for six weeks.

Oh, it's alright, I just thought I'd ask.

Coming over to the Centre? Syme?

Just as well to look in, there might be
something new about Hate Week.

Do you know I haven't missed an evening
at the Centre in the past four years?

- Really?
- It's a fact.

Come on, Smith. Look alive, old man!

You're coming over too, aren't you?

Oh, no. I've got some work to do at home.
An article.

Oh.

- Goodnight, Winston.
- Goodnight.

Now then, come on there!

Them's stew with salt.
Them's stew without.

The canteen is now closing.

Leave the tables, please, without delay.

Clear the canteen, clear the canteen.

Attention, comrades! Attention!

Here is a supplementary production bulletin
issued by the Ministry of Plenty

giving further glorious news of the success
of the seventh three-year plan.

In clear demonstration of the
rising standard of our new, happy life

the latest calculated increases
are as follows:

Domestic utility furniture, 97%

electric light fittings, 60%

domestic glassware, 129%

non-utility furniture, 82%

utility metal mirrors, 41%

carpets, 22%

reading matter, 9.5%

building materials, no less than 367%

non-utility lampshades, 80%

domestic utility cutlery, 47%

children's educational toys, 33%

canvas boots, 192%

heavy gauge domestic string, 20%.

Medium gauge domestic string, 15.5%.

Pig iron, no less than 229%.

That is the end

of the supplementary bulletin.

From the Ministry of Plenty.

Mr Smith, are you there?

Mrs Parsons.

Oh, comrade, I thought I heard you come in.

Can you spare a minute
to come and look at our sink?

It's got blocked.
You see, Tom's not home yet.

No, he said he was going
to the Community Centre.

Of course.

Well, I'll see what I can do.

It's making me late
with the children's supper

you know what they're like.

Such a trial, those two...

It won't!

Oh, it won't empty!

There'll not be any
plates washed to eat off!

The very night I've got
to be early at the Youth Centre!

I'm trying to learn my lessons!

"In the old days,
before the glorious Revolution”.

"London was not the beautiful city
we know today."

"It was a dark, dirty, miserable place"

"where scarcely anybody had enough to eat."

"Children had to work 12 hours a day
for cruel, cruel masters"

- "who flogged them with whips if..."
- I know what's happened!

Somebody's done something to this!

They must have all sneaked in
when we've all been away.

Filthy traitors!

- You mean blocked it up on purpose?
- Yes!

- Who?
- I'll find out.

And when I do...

Where have you been?
Leaving me here!

Do you want me to go to the
Youth Centre without any supper

and tell them you don't feed me? Eh?

Oh, no, dear!

After all I've done this afternoon!

Oh, yes, dear.

She's such a brave, clever girl.

A real child hero, as they say.

- She actually managed...
- Don't tell him about it!

Don't you dare!

No, dear.

Mr Smith's come to fix the sink for us.

Yes, I'll just take a look.

Do you mind if I borrow
that piece of wire?

Very well.

- Who said you could interfere?
- I asked him to help, dear.

Oh, shut up!

Mrs Parsons, I'm afraid
I'm going to need a bucket.

Oh, yes, there's one in the bedroom to
catch the water coming through the ceiling.

You'd better leave it alone!

Why?

She thinks it's sabotage.

Oh, does she?

"The rich men were called cap-it-alists."

"They were fat ugly men with wicked faces,
like the one shown on the opposite page.”

Look at his funny shiny hat!

Yes.

That was their uniform.

You're old. Did you
ever see a cap-it-alist?

I don't remember.

"The capitalists owned everything
in the world."

"If anyone disobeyed them,
they could throw them into prison."

What are you doing?

Oh, it's quite simple. You just slacken
this nut, let the water run out

and nine times out of ten,
you can get at the obstruction.

You do know a lot, don't you?

About our sink.

They're all the same in these old flats.

You mean it was him that did it?

- Here you are, Mr Smith.
- Oh, thank you.

- Don't! Don't do anything to help him!
- What's the matter?

Traitor. Criminal.

Saboteur. Goldsteinist.

Face the telescreen, comrade.

In a moment, he's going to show us
what he blocked the pipe up with!

- Oh, no, not Mr Smith!
- Show us what's in the pipe!

It's hair.

It's reddish, most of it. Like yours. See?

You'll need to be careful,
washing their heads over the sink.

Don't you laugh at me!
They didn't laugh at me this afternoon!

- They didn't!
- Well, what happened this afternoon?

I won a medal!

Hello, hello, hello! Ah, Smith.

- What's this? Who won a medal?
- I did.

- What?
- Oh, Tom.

She was out with her troop of spies,
on a country hike.

Oh, let's sit down and hear all about it.

And she got two other girls to go with her
and they slipped off from the hike.

Why did they do that?

- We were following this strange man I saw.
- Oh?

I was sure he was some sort of enemy agent.

Parachuted, perhaps. He was a foreigner.

- How do you know?
- Well, he was wearing a funny kind of shoes.

I never saw anybody with shoes
like that before.

Pretty smart, eh?

How's that for a sharp eye?
Go on, you trailed him?

For two whole hours,
and when we got to Barnet

we told the patrols.

And then?

They arrested him, of course.

They took him away to the Ministry of Love!

The Ministry of Love...

Oh, he'll be in for it there, alright.

Yes, on her word.

Oh, that's a clever girl!

- That deserves the medal if anything does!
- Yes.

Oh, and you'll be on
all the telescreens tomorrow!

And they'll want you down
at the Youth Centre, won't they?

Oh, yes. I've got to go!

I've got to.

And she hasn't given me my supper!

- What's that?
- It's this bother with the sink!

You can use it now, Mrs Parsons.

You get her something to eat straight away.

My, my, my, my!
We've got something to be proud of now.

Victory Mansions' own child hero!

Oh, and I've got a lot of leaflets here
about Hate Week

handed out at the Community Centre tonight.

You should've been there, Winston, old man.

- Let me see! I want to see.
- Of course.

- But I must talk to Mr Smith first.
- Well, I'd better be going.

- Oh, good night.
- I'll come with you, old man.

I'm organising squads of men
putting up bunting, 400 people...

- Where's my supper!
- In a moment, dear.

And I want mine!
Someday I'm going to be a child hero!

You've got to make us strong!
We're the glorious generation!

We're going to track down
all the thought criminals and traitors.

We'll shoot them! We'll vaporise them!

Whoever they are!

And I'd like to put your name down
as leading one of the groups, old man.

Of course, yes.

Good, I knew I could rely on you.

Still a lot of organising to do

but I do most of the work myself.

Got to keep up with the kiddies.

Oh, yes, they're very keen.

Oh, yes. All they think of is spies
and the war, of course.

That's very peculiar.

What is?

Sort of alcove there.

Peculiar, why?

Meant for a bookcase, I'd say,
when these houses were built.

I could swear it's out of view
of the telescreen.

You're implying the Thought Police
forgot to test it?

Oh, no, Winston, old man. No.

Oh, by the way,
here's that two dollar sub I owe you.

Oh, ta.

Ah, yes.

I'm very proud of my kiddies.

Winston, why didn't you get married?

You should have, you know, it's...

My duty to the Party?

Exactly.

- I have been married, perhaps I still am.
- Eh?

We separated, with Party permission.

I haven't seen her for years.

- Any children?
- No.

Oh, then you had to separate.

I mean, there was no point
in staying together, was there?

No point at all.

I say, old man, you weren't looking for...

I think in the old days
they used the word "love", were you?

Of course not.

That's called sexcrime today.

"Loyalty to the individual
is detrimental to the Party."

"And the only purpose of marriage
is to beget children

at the service of the State." I too
belonged to the Junior Anti-Sex League.

Uh-huh. The old Anti-Sex League,
some of the jolliest times I ever had.

Community hikes, parades.

I was a member for eight years, you know.

Nearly took the oath of celibacy.

If it hadn't been for the Re-Population
Appeal of 1973...

That's when I married, too.

Ah. Come a long way since then, haven't we?

Soon, the whole glorious
new system in operation.

Separate the sexes.

- Artificial insemination.
- Artsem.

- And institutions for the children.
- Of course!

Far better than family life for bringing
them up in the true Party spirit.

When I think my kiddies were born
too soon for all that

it's as though I've cheated them somehow.

I think they'll catch up.

Oh, they'll join the Anti-Sex League
as soon as they're old enough.

When I see my little girl
in the old chequered sash, ho-ho!

I'll even be prouder of her
than I was tonight.

Yes, I'm sure you will.

That reminds me, I must go
and see she's been fed, poor kid.

- Goodnight, old man.
- Goodnight.

Don't. Don't let it show in your face!

Get rid of this thought, rid of
it, quickly, before it's too late.

Doublethink, practise it!

The Party says the Earth is flat, true.
That's true.

The Party says two and two make five. True.

To know and not to know,
forget and forget that you've forgotten.

Doublethink, crimestop.

Ignorance is strength!

Comrades, attention!

Here is a special bulletin
from the Ministry of Peace.

It tells of victory!

Victory on the South Indian front!

It can be revealed that for 72 hours,
without break or rest

our beloved leader, Big Brother

ceaselessly studied reports
from the battlefield!

He scrutinised each list of casualties.

He even found time to rejoice in accounts
of individual acts of heroism

by our glorious soldiers

in the brave deeds of those
who were carrying out his wise decisions

and winning the victory
that he had planned!

The victory that he had made to happen,
as day must follow night!

The victory is his. Victory to him!

The glory is his, glory to him!

Big Brother!

Big Brother!

Big Brother!

Here we are. 'Ere it is, listen to this.

"She slipped off her dress"

"disclosing the whole warm beauty
of her body."

"Arthur, ' she whispered”

"The door's unlocked."

The door's unlocked!

Ooh, Arthur! What's it called?

"One Night in a Girls' School"
by Jason Flinders?

Jason Flinders.
Want to remember that name!

Old Flinders knows his stuff, you know.

'Ere, look at this, look!
He's written hundreds of 'em, see?

Where'd you get 'em?

I got my contacts, see?

'Ere, I'll find you any number you want
if you pay for 'em.

Pay for 'em?
They're only five cent ones!

Yeah, but special! 'Ere, 25 to you.

There ought to be something done about it.

- There's got to be. And soon!
- Agh...

This is important!

I tell you, no number endin' in seven
ain't won for over 14 months.

Yes, it has then.

No, it has not!

I've taken down all the
State Lottery numbers

got 'em at home,
wrote down on a bit o' paper.

- And I tell you no number endin'...
- Yes, it has.

And I could pretty near tell you
the ruddy number.

Four-oh-seven, it ended in.

February, second week in February.

I've got it all in black and white,
and I tell you that no number ending in...

All I asked you was for a pint!

Alright, alright, that's enough!

I asked you civil enough, didn't I?

Are you tellin' me you ain't got a pint mug
in the whole bleedin' boozer?

I dunno what you mean.

Litres and half-litres
is all we serve here.

I just had a fancy to have a pint again.

- When I was a young man...
- Oh, when you was a young man

we was all livin' in the treetops!

Can I offer you a drink?

You're a gent!

A pint. A pint o' wallop!

You've no gin?

In a prole sector?

We don't get it here.

Beer, 12 cents.

Uh...

Bet you've seen a lot of changes
since you were a young man?

The beer was far better

and cheaper.

That was before the war.

Which war was that?

It's all wars.

Of course, people of my age don't
really know what conditions were like

before the Revolution. We can
only read what the history books say.

Was there really terrible oppression,
people starving, no boots to wear

women and children being whipped
to work 14 hours a day

and sleeping ten in a room
and capitalists in great houses

driving in carriages and motor-cars

and wearing top hats
and drinking Champagne?

Top hats!

Funny you should mention that.

I was only thinking the other day

I ain't seen a top hat in years.

Last time I wore one
was at my sister-in-law's funeral.

- You wore one?
- Mm.

More than 50 year ago, it must have been.

Course, 'twas only hired.

Yes, look, what I really
wanted to know was this.

Don't you feel that you have more
freedom now?

Isn't it a fact you had to call
the rich people "sir" and take your cap...

your hat off when they passed?

Mm.

They liked you to.

- It showed respect, you see.
- They liked you to?

Look, in 1925, you were a grown man.

Now, try and remember 1925.

If you could choose,
would you rather live then or now?

You expect me to say
I'd sooner be young again.

No, no, it isn't only that, look...

- Don't you understand? I'm trying to find...
- When you're old, you ain't never well.

My feet's dreadful

and me bladder.

On the other hand, it has great advantages.

You don't have the same worries.

No truck with women
and that's a great thing, you know.

You can just sit, and think of nothing.

Nothing at all.

- Good evening.
- Good evening.

Ah...

I thought I recognised you,
outside on the pavement.

You recognised me?

Yes, you're the gentleman who bought
the old exercise books

some two or three months ago, wasn't it?

Oh, you remembered?

Oh, it was such a beautiful bit of paper.

Cream Laid, we used to call it.

There's been no such paper for, oh,
I daresay about...

25 years.

Anything special I can get you?

No. Just thought I'd look in
as I was passing.

Well, perhaps it's just as well,
because I don't suppose

I could have satisfied you.

Between ourselves,
the antique trade's finished.

No demand, no stock.

Furniture, china, metalware

it's all been broken up or melted down.

- What's this?
- Paperweight.

Shake it.

It's like snow falling inside, there.

Of course, it's filled with water

- and the white particles are...
- Oh, it's beautiful.

Yes.

Though there's not many
would say so nowadays.

If you should happen to want to buy it

the price would be four dollars.

I only wish I had more to show you.

- Thank you very much, thank you.
- Four dollars. Thank you.

But you see how it is. An empty shop.

Mind you...

There is another room upstairs.

- Not much in it, just a few pieces...
- Oh, I'd like to see.

Ah, well. There, now.

We'll do with a light
if we're going upstairs.

Before my wife died,
this was our sitting room.

I'm selling the furniture off
by little and little.

Now that's a nice gate-leg table
over there.

Of course, you'd have to mend
the hinges if you wanted to use the flaps.

There's... there's no telescreen!

No, I never had one of those things.

If you want one down here, you have to
buy it, you know. They're not provided.

Too expensive

and I never felt the need of one somehow.

Sorry, no books, they...

They were all taken away long ago.

I doubt if you'll find any
in the prole sectors nowadays

but if you should happen to be
interested in old prints...

No, the frame's fixed to the wall.

My wife always had a fear
of cords breaking

and being startled in the night.

But I daresay I could unscrew it for you.

Do you know,
I know this place. It's a ruin now.

It's in the middle of the street
outside the Palace of Justice.

That's right, just outside the Law Courts.

It was a church at one time,
St Clement's Dane, the name was.

♪ Oranges and lemons,
say the bells of St Clement's ♪

What's that?

Just a rhyme we had when I was a boy.

It was just the name of churches,
all the principle ones in London.

I never knew it had been a church.

Now how did that rhyme go?

Oh, I've got it!

♪ Oranges and lemons,
say the bells of St Clement's ♪

♪ You owe me five farthings,
say the bells of St Martin's ♪

It's like the sound of bells. Please go on.

That's as far as I can get.

A farthing, now, that was a small coin.
Something like a cent.

Yes, and where was St Martin's?

- It's still standing.
- Oh?

In Victory Square,
just near the statue of Big Brother

- on top of the tall fluted column...
- Oh, yes.

...with the lions at the foot.

It wasn't always Big Brother, you know.

Oh, well, if you've seen
enough of this room

- we'd better be getting back to the shop.
- Yes.

Now, you go first.
I have to take my time on the stairs.

Alright.

Now, what have you got there?
Ah. The old mace.

Now, I'd forgotten all about that.

Now that's... that's a real antique.

I could let you have that for...

No, no, no, I don't want it.

Anything the matter?

You haven't got a way out
through the back of the shop?

Uh... As a short cut, I mean...

Never mind, it wouldn't help.

If it's the patrols,
you came here looking for razor blades.

- Party members do occasionally.
- Thank you.

- Now, you're forgetting your purchase.
- Oh, yes, thank you.

So glad that you found something
to your liking.

- Goodnight.
- Goodnight to you.

The name's Charrington.

Call in again if you're passing.

Don't forget.

Now then...

A drop of Chestnut Tree
speciality this time, eh?

Cloves and saccharine.

Ah, really does something
for this Victory Gin.

Pity we can't put it in every time,
you know, but...

there's a war on.

Alright for now?

Back again in a few minutes.

Ah, good evening, comrade.

Get me a large gin, will you?

Yes, comrade.
Plenty of places, sit wherever you like.

Syme...

Oh, Smith.

May I join you?

Yes, of course.

It's quiet here.

- Yes.
- Do you come often?

Not often.

No, I've only been here
once or twice in my life.

Sometimes there are party musicians
and painters.

It's colourful.

25 cents, please.

Oh, there's a luxury tax, you see.

Any more gin for anybody?

Remember, it's all on the house for you,
remember.

Syme?

- Yes?
- Syme.

Have you ever noticed a young girl,
dark-haired, about 25, works at Minitrue

in the Fiction Department, I fancy.

She was at the table next to ours
in the canteen yesterday.

Yes, I've noticed her. Why?

Well, I've got reason to believe
that she's a...

I, well, uh...

I've got reason to believe
that she was a district organiser

for both the Youth League
and the Junior Anti-Sex League

and if I'm correct, she might provide
an exemplary subject

for a newspeak article
I propose to write...

Sounds a most interesting project.

Commendably orthodox.

Doubleplus goodthinkful.

J Underneath the spreading chestnut tree J.

♪ I sold you and you sold me ♪

♪ They lie here, and here lie we ♪

♪ 'Neath the spreading chestnut tree ♪

What was that? Who are they?

Don't you recognise them?

Why, of course!

It was in the Times,
the last conspiracy trial.

But they're changed.

They confessed to sabotage,
embezzlement of Party funds...

intrigues with Goldstein's agents
against Big Brother.

They confessed.

Now the telescreen's reminding them.

They were released.

They come here every day.
For them, the gin's free.

They can play chess...

if they wish.

Sorry, I disturbed you
when you were playing out your problem.

No, you didn't.

This café's quiet and suitable.

I suppose the members of your Chess Club
come here to play?

Members?

The Minitrue Chess Club. You're on
the committee this year, aren't you?

I saw your name on a notice.

Today...

Today, I received a notification.

What?

That I'm suspended from all my duties

pending investigation of my conduct.

You?

Even suspended from the Chess Club.

Winston!

This is unfortunate

- but I've no doubt the inquiry will be fair.
- Don't go!

I've been sitting here for hours,
trying to decide what I could have done!

- Something I said, something I thought...
- No, no.

Yesterday in the canteen,
I talked too much perhaps.

Who was listening?

There was Parsons
and there was you, Winston!

- I don't remember.
- And at the next table

there was that girl,
the one you mentioned.

Let me go! I've nothing to do with this.

Which of you denounced me?

Winston, was it yourself?

What did I say?

Winston!

Don't leave me...

- I'm alone!
- JX-2159 Syme B.

Stand where you are.

All other customers in the Chestnut
Tree Café are to leave immediately.

Quickly, quickly.

Syme, ungo antecoming Thinkpol.

The Thought Police are joining you.

I saw it.

I saw the wagon come,
full of men in black uniform.

Syme, not me.

If they wanted me, they'd have come by now.

She...

She can't have reported me...

yet.

I should have acted
down in the prole sector...

got her alone...

smashed her head in!

I can still do it.

Counter-attack.

An open window, an empty staircase...

decoy her away and...

I'll watch for her.

Wait for her...

from tomorrow.

- Is your pre-setting completed?
- Yes.

Test your motor.

Very well, stand to attention.

They'll be here in a moment.

♪ It was only a hopeless fancy ♪

♪ It passed like an April day ♪

In a few weeks, that tune will be haunting
every prole sector on Airstrip One.

The sentimental ones are issued sparingly,
so they're always popular.

Now, the apparatus that produced that
was comparatively simple, as you saw.

But here in Pornosec, we'd like to see
a novel-writing machine in operation.

This way.

I've seen your lottery calculators
in the Ministry of Plenty.

These are much more elaborate.

This machine can turn out
20 pornographic novels a day.

All phrases and thought sequences
were built in during assembly

so that it has its own distinctive style.

Its products go out
under the name of "Jason Flinders".

They're distributed, of course,
in sealed packets

then the proles imagine
they're getting something illegal.

Will you demonstrate?

The operator is now adjusting
the situation kaleidoscope

which varies the six basic plots.

Notice the operator.
Long-service sash in the Anti-Sex League.

Two purity badges.

She has been especially chosen
for her exemplary character.

We have to be careful here.

The stuff's rubbish, of course,
but it might be catching.

The machine sets up its own type
ready to print.

It also provides us with a check copy.

Here it comes.

"Sandra Wayne slipped off
her remaining undergarments”

"disclosing the whole warm beauty
of her body."

"As she prepared to step into her bath,
there was a rustle."

"The ugly snout of a black automatic
showed between the curtains."

"A man stepped out."

"Put down that gun, ' said Sandra coolly.
'It may be loaded."

"But a curious thrill ran through her."

Quickly, get it free!

Let me see.

I was adjusting the kaleidoscope
for Chapter 2.

You fool!

- I must apologise for this incompetence.
- She'd better go to the medical section.

Look out!

It's bleeding badly, go with her.

The shortest way is through
the Records Department.

Come along. Steady yourself.

Unfortunate.

Now, as you will observe, each machine
differs slightly from its neighbours.

We'll have a look at the next one.

Routine correction to Times
of 19th November 1983

after verification with current issue.
Quote...

"In a statement issued today by..."

You're perfectly capable of walking alone.

"...In a statement issued today
by the Ministry of Peace"

- "it was categorically denied that any..."
- Get up!

Help me with her, she's been hurt!

Records Department, Minitrue.

Check that disturbance!

You're alright, now. Come along.

"It was categorically denied"

"that any withdrawals
had taken place on the Malabar front."

Unquote.

Now then, come on there!

Them's stew with salt.
Them's stew without.

Them's stew with salt.
Them's stew without.

Come on there! Come on now!

I meant what I wrote.

- Shall we meet?
- Yes.

Can you get Sunday afternoon off?

- Yes.
- Then listen and remember.

Go to New Paddington Station.

Now then, come on there!

Them's stew with salt.
Them's stew without.

Take train number 26.
Get out at the 10th station, turn left.

Take a path across a field
to a grass-grown lane.

Down that to a little wood.
Look for a forked tree.

- There's somebody coming, can you remember?
- I think so.

Hello, hello there. How's the stew?

- Beans.
- Oh, jolly good.

Old Syme ought to be here.
That's his favourite.

- He's not here?
- No.

We work in the same office.
I noticed. He must be ill.

- Yes.
- Oh, thanks.

I say, I wanted a confidential word
with you, old boy.

- Confidential?
- Yes.

- About the Hate Week effort.
- Oh.

You know I've got you leading
one of the groups of men?

- Mm-hm.
- Well, I was awake

till three o'clock this morning,
working it all out.

Now where's something to draw with?

This'll do.

Now you see,
there's old Victory Mansions, there.

All this shadowy part here...

Well, I thought, if you could come along...

I'm here.

You were searching for a hidden microphone,
weren't you?

There aren't any.

We're alright here.

We're alright here?

I found this place once when I got lost
on a community hike.

It's quite safe.

- Is it?
- Oh, you can trust me.

Please, trust me.

I wanted to believe you, what you wrote.

I wanted to very much.

But the note wasn't enough?

- What's your name?
- Julia.

I know yours, it's Winston.

See, I'm better at finding things out
than you are.

Tell me, what had you been
thinking about me?

Well, I hated the sight of you.

I wanted to murder you,
to smash your head in.

Why?

- You followed me.
- Well, I wanted to speak to you.

I thought you were something to do
with the Thought Police.

I'm not the Thought Police!
You honestly thought that?

You're young and strong and healthy.

"Pure in word and deed."

Banners, processions, slogans, games,
all that stuff.

And you thought if I'd half a chance,
I'd denounce you

- and get you killed off?
- Something of the kind.

- A lot of young girls would.
- Actually, I am that sort to look at.

Keep an eager face,
always shout with the crowd

never shirk anything, then you're safe.

I do voluntary work three evenings a week
for the Anti-Sex League

so I've earned this filthy thing!

I'm 35 years old.
I've got a wife I can't get rid of.

Physical grade three.

I couldn't care less.

- Oh, I'm clumsy, you see, it's been so long.
- Never mind.

Oh...

How did you know it should be me?

Something in your face.

I thought I'd take a chance.

I'm good at spotting people
that don't belong.

The moment I saw you,
I knew you were against them.

- So easily?
- No, I...

don't mean you give yourself away.
It's a sort of...

fellow feeling.

Something you can only recognise
if you're looking for it.

Something that flashes across
"I'm on your side".

That's right.

.Oh, you missed me, I know.
My fault, my disguise is too good.

- But didn't you ever notice it with anyone?
- No.

Well, there is a man named O'Brien.

I'm not sure but once or twice I've felt...

Oh, listen.

That bird.

It's so close.

Suppose there were a microphone somewhere

they'd be listening and hearing that.

Let's sit down.

Tell me about your wife.

She was beautiful.

She hadn't a thought in her head
that wasn't a slogan.

She submitted to marriage
out of loyalty to the State.

She had two names for it.

- "Making a baby..."
- And "Our duty to the Party".

You know that one, too.

Sex talks at the Youth League
for the over-sixteens.

Actually, it's out of date now.

They're getting techniques
to replace marriage.

With Katharine,
there wasn't anything to replace.

You must have hated her.

Eventually, yes.

My darling.

This is the unforgiveable crime,
you know that?

Between Party members, I know.

And then in the end, we can't win.

- You know that too?
- Yes.

Just that some kinds of failure
are better than other kinds, that's all.

How long do you think,
before they find out?

Six months, if we're careful.

- A year, five years even.
- We'll be careful and clever, too.

We'll find other places like this.

- Better ones.
- Sometimes we'll only be able to manage

a word to each other,
passing in the street

- and then there'll be...
- But we won't give up!

No.

We might even be able to find
a secret place that's just our own.

Why, yes.

It's a challenge
and we're going to accept it, my darling.

This is me.

My hand, my arm, my face.

Let's enjoy being alive!

I guess I could let you have the room.

Not many people come into the shop.

Don't suppose I should get in your way.

Everyone needs a place
where they can be alone occasionally.

Privacy's a very valuable thing.

If they have such a place,
well, it's only common courtesy

on the part of anybody
who knows about it

to keep his knowledge to himself.

- Thank you.
- I should have to charge you

a little rent though.

- Oh, why, of course.
- Just to cover expenses.

Shall we say five dollars a week?

Yes, and I'll pay a month in advance.

Oh, thank you very much.

Thank you.

I'll go up myself this evening and...

thank you, put the room to rights.

- Thank you.
- By the way

there are two entries to the house.

One of them gives onto a little lane
at the back.

Oh.

I mean, the main streets
are so crowded nowadays.

You can scarcely
fight your way through.

It's always the same
when we get to Hate Week.

If only they'd stop it just for a minute.

- What?
- The Hate Song.

Day after day, from every telescreen.
There's no escape from it.

That's what they've turned love into.

All this marching up and down
and waving flags, and cheering

it's simply sex gone sour.

You mean, they depend on that hysteria,
all the bottled up...?

They can't bear you to feel anything else.

When you make love,
you use up a lot of energy

and then you feel all warm
and happy inside.

You don't give a damn for Big Brother
and the Three-Years Plan!

Oh, darling, I nearly forgot!

I want you to stay just there.

You're not to see me
for the next three or four minutes.

To make sure, you better turn around.

- But what are you going to do?
- Please.

I'll let you know when you can look.

♪ It was only an 'opeless fancy ♪

♪ It passed like an April day ♪

It's a prole woman.

♪ But a look an' a word ♪

That's a prolefeed song, isn't it?

Last month's issue.

- ♪ They 'ave stolen my 'eart away! ♪
- Number 2, 765. Out of date.

The product of an electronic machine
and she sings it as if it meant something.

♪ They say that time 'eals all things ♪

She's as solid as a pillar, as sturdy as...

- ♪ They say you can always forget ♪
- Do you know, Julia, she's beautiful.

I saw her yesterday.
A metre across the hips easily.

That's her style of beauty.

Strong heart, strong arms,
toughened by 20 years of child-bearing.

- ♪ They twist my 'eart-strings yet! ♪
- Julia?

If there's any hope for the future,
it lies in the proles.

The proles?

85% of the population.

If only they became conscious
of their own strength

all they need is to rise up
and shake themselves

like a horse shaking off flies.

- They'd throw off the Party.
- Conscious!

They're like a horse alright.

Don't you remember the old slogan.

"Proles and animals are free."

Darling, they think they're free now.

Free to work themselves to death.

Free to enjoy the filth
that's peddled to them by the Party.

Drugs, foul books...

- The pornographic...
- Hey! My life's work!

Darling, they love it all!

The Party gives them
exactly what they want.

If only there were some way to show them.

Do you think the Brotherhood...

What about the Brotherhood?

It's just struck me
being able to talk about it.

I've never done that in my life.

Do you think Goldstein's Brotherhood
really exists?

- No.
- Why not?

Rebel against the Party?
It would be too stupid.

There's that Inner Party man at Minitrue,
O'Brien.

I've always felt he's a man you could trust
if only you could only get him alone.

Once it was just after the Two
Minutes' Hate, I caught his eye.

- Darling, you can turn round now.
- Mm?

Your face!

Do you like it?

Yes!

Prole women use this stuff.
I don't know if I've put it on right.

The dress doesn't fit very well.

Thirty years ago,
it belonged to Mrs Charrington.

- ♪ It was only an 'opeless fancy ♪
- This is my style of beauty.

At least... at least I'm a woman now!

And I belong in this room, don't I?

How old do you think everything is here?

More than the dress.
90 years, a hundred...

Picture, is that 100 years old?

It's more. It's probably two. You
can't tell the age of anything nowadays.

I've seen that place somewhere before.
What is it?

It used to be a church.

St Clement Danes, its name was.

♪ Oranges and lemons,
say the bells of St Clement's ♪

♪ I owe you five farthings,
say the bells of St Martin's ♪

♪ When will you pay me,
say the bells of Old Bailey ♪

- You know it?
- I can't remember any more.

- Who taught it to you?
- My grandfather, when I was a little girl.

Winston, forget about the Brotherhood.

The clever thing to do
is what we're doing now.

Just to break the rules and stay alive.

The kettle's boiling,
I'm gonna make some coffee.

I brought some, it's over there.

Ugh! Victory coffee?
I've got something much better than that.

Jason Flinders' manicure set,
the tools of my trade, concealing...

one quarter of Inner Party coffee!

Oh!

- Where'd you get hold of it?
- Black market.

There's nothing these Inner Party swine
don't have.

- And look, real sugar, not saccharine!
- Oh!

- Darling, will you make the coffee?
- Yes, I will.

♪ Oranges and lemons,
say the bells of St Clement's ♪

♪ I owe you five farthings... ♪

Winston!

What was it?

It was a rat.

A rat.

What a fuss to make, and a mess.

Oh, yes, there's the hole.

I'll have to bung it up
with some of that broken plaster.

Oh, my darling, you're trembling.
Come and sit down.

I don't like rats, that's all.

Tell me.

There is something to tell, isn't there?

Yes, but I never have, to anyone.

- It's horrible.
- Go on.

It was when I was small.
I don't know what age, but small.

My father had disappeared

and I lived with my mother
and my little sister.

She was just a baby

sick nearly all the time,
like a thin monkey.

There was hardly any food to eat.

I remember screaming at my mother
because I was so hungry.

She used to give me hers
but even that was so little.

I wanted all there was.
I couldn't help it.

One night, they took my mother away
for questioning

and as soon as she'd gone,
I went to the cot where my sister was lying

snatched the piece of bread she had.

I don't think she noticed,
she was so weak...

I ran out and far away,
and I ate the bread.

I didn't go back until next morning.

The house was dark...

and there was no Mother.

I...

I went to my sister's cot

and...

and I looked in...

and...

You must say it.

You must, you must.

The rats had been!

Oh, please...

And now don't think about it anymore.

But I dream.
You see, when something bad happens

that same night I see, the cot.

The last time it happened
was after they took Syme.

I'm going to put the kettle back.

Make that coffee.

He's dead, did I tell you?

No.

You see, every day,
I've looked at the notice board.

The printed list of the Chess Committee.

This morning, there was nothing crossed out
and his name wasn't there.

He doesn't exist.

He never existed.

You know, that...

that night he talked to me...

he thought one of us had denounced him.

- You or I.
- I wonder who did.

Or he himself.

How?

Oh, he was too intelligent.
He saw too clearly and spoke too plainly.

That it should happen was written
in his face.

You know, in this thing...

it's like a tiny world,
with its atmosphere complete.

If it were possible to get inside there...

to have your life there...

- And mine...
- My darling.

Perhaps, even to find...

real people again.

Ah, Smith.

I was hoping for an opportunity
of talking to you.

I was reading one of your Newspeak articles
in the Times the other day.

You take a scholarly interest
in Newspeak, I believe?

Oh, well, I'm only an amateur.

You write it very elegantly.

That's not only my opinion.

I was talking to a friend of yours
not long ago who is certainly an expert.

His name...

escapes me for the moment.

But I noticed you used two or three words
which have recently become obsolete.

Have you seen the 10th edition
of the Newspeak Dictionary?

No. We're still using
the 9th in the Records Department.

Ah, yes, of course.

The 10th edition isn't issued
for a month or so, I believe

apart from a few advance copies.

It might interest you to see one, perhaps?

Very much so.

Some of the new developments
are most ingenious.

The reduction in the number of verbs.

Now, let me see,
I could send it to you by messenger...

Except of
course, I should be sure to forget.

Perhaps you could pick it up
from my home sometime?

I'll just jot down the address.

Oh...

Better not let it seem
that we're having secrets.

That's the address.

I'm usually at home in the evenings.

If not, my servant will give you
the dictionary.

It's an Inner Party address alright.

One of those big new blocks.

Another rocket-bomb, must be miles away.

Darling, what makes you think
he meant anything more than he said?

You saw his eyes.

Very well, suppose he does hate the Party.
Doesn't everyone, secretly?

Winston, they'd all like to break the rules
if they thought it was safe.

It doesn't mean they belong
to the Brotherhood!

It was when he mentioned Syme.

"Your friend who's an expert on Newspeak,
his name's slipped my memory."

Don't you see? He
couldn't name him directly.

It would be mortally dangerous.

Syme's not only dead.

He's abolished, he's an unperson.

But it was a signal. For a moment,
we came near to thoughtcrime together.

- We were accomplices.
- You think he'll lead you

- to the Brotherhood?
- Yes.

- If they exist.
- They must!

I've been waiting all my life for this.

If they're not just another invention
of the Party's. Something to hate.

Haven't you marched in a demonstration
when there was a trial on

- and shouted "Death to the traitors!"
- Of course.

You knew who they were?

Perhaps, sometimes...

Or what they'd really done?

- No.
- You see?

How do we know what exists?

Even the war itself may be a lie.

The Party says we're fighting
Eurasia, or Eastasia.

They can change it in a minute
and make it true.

Always somewhere in the desert
or the jungle.

We don't know!

When a rocket bombs drops
in one of the prole sectors

it might have been fired
by our own government!

Alright! You and I,
we're helping to make these lies.

I sit at my desk in the Records Department,
helping to draw the darkness in.

It's your work!

We've helped to destroy history.

There's only an endless present,
where the Party's always right.

Can't you guess why I started this diary?

To know what happened yesterday.

Whatever this chance
may be, I must take it.

You think they're starting a rebellion?

No, not in our lifetime.

- Oh, then what's the use?
- If little pockets of resistance

can be started, just a few records left
for the next generation.

I'm not interested in the next generation,
only in us!

Yes, I know.

Winston...

because I love you...

I won't let you do this alone.

If they take us, there's nothing
we can do about it, is there?

Nothing. If that happens,
the only thing that matters

is that we shouldn't betray one another.

If you mean confession I'd do that
right away. You do under torture.

I don't mean confession.
Confessing isn't betrayal.

What you say or do doesn't matter.

Only feelings matter.

If they could make me stop loving you

that would be the real betrayal.

No. They can't do that.

They can make you say anything.

Anything.

But they can't make you believe it.

They can't get inside your heart.

If you can feel
that staying human is worthwhile

even when it can't have any result whatever

then you've beaten them.

We'll go to O'Brien together.

As soon as you've worked out
just how and when.

Tonight. Now.

Kiss me first.

Comrades, attention!

It is officially announced
by the Ministries of Truth and Plenty

that the current Hate Week
has broken all records for production.

And to match this activity
on the Home Front

a Ministry of Peace communique shows

that our brave soldiers
on the Malabar front

have driven a wedge...

You can turn it off!

Yes, we can turn it off.

We have that privilege.

Shall I say it, or will you?

I will say it.

We have come here because...

We believe there is some sort of
organisation working against the Party

- and that you are involved in it.
- We want to belong to it.

We are enemies of the Party.

We disbelieve in the principles of Ingsoc.

We are thought-criminals.

We want to put ourselves
at your mercy.

If that isn't sufficient...

Martin is one of us.

Bring a chair for yourself,
you can stop being a servant now.

We'll sit down and talk in comfort.

This is called wine.

You will have read about it
in books, no doubt.

I'm afraid very little of it
reaches the Outer Party.

Try it.

Is it as you expected?

No...

I've always thought of it
as being intensely sweet

but I'm afraid I can't taste very well.

Victory Gin does not improve the palate.

Now, let us begin by drinking a toast.

To our leader, Emmanuel Goldstein.

Then there is such a person?

Yes, there is such a person...

and he is alive.

Where, I do not know.

And the organisation, it is real?

Not just an invention
of the Thought Police?

No, the Brotherhood is real.

Now...

You will understand that I must start
by asking you certain questions.

In general terms,
what are you prepared to do?

Anything that we are capable of.

He speaks for me too.

- You are prepared to give your lives?
- Yes.

- To commit sabotage, even murder?
- Yes.

- To betray your country to a foreign power?
- Yes.

To cheat, forge, blackmail?

- Disseminate drugs?
- Yes.

To do anything likely to cause demoralisation
and weaken the power of the Party?

Yes.

If, for instance,
it would somehow suit our purpose

to throw sulphuric
acid in a child's face...

You are prepared to do that?

Yes.

To lose your identity and live out
your life as a waiter or a dock worker?

To commit suicide if and when we order?

Yes.

You are prepared, the two of you,
to separate

and never see one another again?

No.

No.

You did well to tell me.

We must know everything.

Martin, take a good look
at these two comrades.

You will be seeing them again. I may not.

Now go back to your pantry. I shall be
switching on in a quarter of an hour.

- No, thank you.
- No, thank you.

Before you leave here,
I shall give you a book

from which you will learn
the true nature of the society we live in

and how we shall destroy it.

When you have read it, you will be
full members of the Brotherhood.

You will receive orders from me,
through Martin.

Apart from three or four other contacts,
for immediate tasks, you will know nothing.

You will get no encouragement,
no comradeship.

When, finally, you are caught

the only help you may expect will be
a razor blade smuggled into your cell.

You will confess the little you know

betray a handful of unimportant people
like myself and die.

We are the dead.

Our only true life is in the future.

We shall take part in it as handfuls
of dust and splinters of bone.

How far away that future is,
there is no knowing.

Perhaps a thousand years
of spreading our knowledge outwards

from person to person,
generation to generation.

In the face of the Thought Police...

there is no other way.

Thank you.

Now...

you should not have come here together.
You must leave separately.

You, comrade, first.

Wait.

We still have some wine left.

What shall it be this time?

To the confusion of the Thought Police?

The death of Big Brother?

To humanity? To the future?

To the past.

The past is more important.

Now, put one of these on your tongue.

The lift attendants might notice
the smell of wine.

Martin, you will show the comrade out.

Goodbye.

Goodbye.

Now...

I assume you have
a hiding place of some kind?

Yes, a room in one of the prole sectors,
above a shop.

Keep it for the moment.

Later, we shall find
something else for you.

Have you any questions
you would like to ask?

No.

Oh, did you ever happen to hear
an old rhyme that begins...

"Oranges and lemons
say the bells of St Clement's?"

"You owe me five farthings
say the bells of St Martin's."

"When will you pay me
say the bells of Old Bailey."

"When I grow rich,
say the bells of Shoreditch."

You know the last line!

Yes.

I know the last line.

Now...

Have you brought
your old briefcase with you?

Yes.

Very shabby and inconspicuous, good.

The Newspeak Dictionary...

10th Edition.

Don't open it now.

Study it well.

You too had better
take one of these tablets.

Goodbye.

Goodbye.

And tomorrow evening at 18:30 hours

in Victory Park will come the great climax
to Hate Week.

No less than 200 Eurasian war criminals
will be publicly hanged.

Good evening.

He's upstairs.
He came in some little time ago.

Thank you.

I wanted to show him something
but he hadn't the time.

Something I found in the back of a drawer.

See, it's a locket with a...

little curl of gold hair in it.

I'm afraid it's broken.

- Oh, that's better.
- Oh.

- I went to the hangings.
- Oh, why?

Camouflage.

We can't be too careful now.

The crowd were delirious.

If they'd got their hands on them

they'd have pulled them
to pieces long before.

The time.

Look.

"Newspeak Dictionary..."

"By Emmanuel Goldstein."

O'Brien gave it me last night
after you left.

- You've read it?
- I know what's in it.

Oh, Julia, I feel a whole person
for the first time in my life.

All the suspicions and doubts
and hopes I've ever felt

they're completely justified.

Oh, we were wrong about some things
but right about so many

and now it's all clear, the truth.

Here, my darling, drink this.

You're cold.

And now...

listen.

No, I don't think I want to hear.

What?

It will only be something more to hide.

But we are committed.

Tonight, I...

found I couldn't yell with the crowd
in the same way.

For the first time, I...

wasn't able to feel I was part of them.

But Hate Week's over now.

So is the excitement, the madness
everywhere that's helped to hide us.

- From here on...
- You'll have to, now.

It's not a burden, it's strength.

Now, you'll feel that too.

Darling, I've marked a few passages.

Now here, here for instance...

"When the United States absorbed
the British Empire to form Oceania"

"and Russia took Europe to form Eurasia"

"two of the three world states
were in being."

"Their ideologies were Ingsoc,
Neo-Bolshevism"

"and later, Death-Worship in Eastasia."

"These three states
are permanently at war."

- Then it's not a sham!
- Wait.

"War has changed its character:
It exists only to preserve tyranny."

"Fighting, when there is any, takes place
on vague tropical frontiers"

"or round the Floating Fortresses."

"The essential act of war is
the destruction of human labour"

"a way of shattering or sinking
the materials which might be used"

"to make the masses too comfortable,
in the long run, too intelligent."

"No invasion of enemy territory
must ever take place."

Then the real war
isn't with Eurasia at all!

- It's between all of us and...
- And them!

"The Party member, like the proletarian,
tolerates conditions"

"because he has nothing
with which to compare his way of life."

"Efficiency, even military efficiency,
is no longer needed."

"In Oceania, nothing is efficient
except the Thought Police..."

The swine! The filthy swine.

"Big Brother..."

Does he exist?

"...is the guise in which the Party
shows itself to the world."

"No one has ever seen him."

It's all here, the Revolution,
what it was like before that

what freedom was.
Oh, Julia, I know now, at last

that I'm not mad.

Oh, my darling, you've thought that?

Even if a person's the only one
to believe something

that doesn't make him mad.

There's truth and there's untruth.

But if you stick to the truth
even against the whole world

you're still not mad.

I want to read it.
We'll read it together.

♪ They say that time 'eals... ♪

There she is, I suppose she's hanging
her washing on the line as usual.

- ♪ They say you can always forget ♪
- Baby clothes.

Her own or her daughter's?

How many children do you think she's had
in her time, Winston?

- Might easily be 15.
- Yes.

Darling, after we made that horrible
promise to O'Brien last night

- and I went back to the hostel.
- Alone.

- I couldn't get it out of my mind.
- It's horrible.

I suppose we had to say it.

Oh, yes, but I didn't mean that.

I meant your being alone
to think about it.

There are times when people
shouldn't be alone.

I began to wonder perhaps...

we could just have gone on
as ordinary people

disappeared somehow...

learned to talk like the proles,
got a job in a factory...

But it's too late now.

We're committed now.

Too late.

Not only since last night, my darling.

Then we determined to face the facts
and do something about them

but for us, well...

it's 30 years too late.

If we'd lived then, we'd have been married.

Why 30, even 20 years ago, we could have
walked through the streets quite openly

talking about anything we liked.

They'd have known we loved each other

and there'd have been nothing
they could do to stop us.

They can't stop us loving now.

♪ They say that time heals all things ♪

The future's hers, isn't it?

- We can share it.
- How?

She and her children can keep alive
the body but we can keep alive the mind.

Pass on the secret.

- The book?
- Oh, no, no.

No, it's simpler than that.

Just that two and two make four.

Our future.

But it has to be this way.

Darling.

Do you remember
something that O'Brien said?

"We are the dead.”

We are the dead.

You are the dead.

There, look!

Remain exactly where you are.

Make no movement until you are ordered.

♪ It was only an 'opeless fancy ♪

♪ It passed like an April day ♪

♪ But a look... ♪

The house is surrounded!

I suppose we may as well say goodbye.

You may as well say goodbye.

They've got a ladder.

Winston!

- Darling!
- Don't resist, don't move!

Charrington...

Thinkpol reporting crimefix 20:45 hours.

Proceeding Minilove-wise.

I discovered the end of the little rhyme.

You may as well have it,
so that it's not wasted.

"Here comes a candle to light you to bed."

"Here comes a chopper
to chop off your head."

Take the woman first.

Not the Ministry of Love!
Not there! Winston! Winston!

Parsons!

What are you in for?

Thoughtcrime.

Oh, I know I'll get a fair hearing.

I trust them for that.

They'll have my records,
won't they, old man?

You know what sort of a chap I was.

Not very brainy, but I did the best
I could for the Party.

About five years, don't you think?

Ten years?

A chap like myself could make himself
pretty useful in a joycamp.

I mean, they won't shoot me for
going off the rails just once, will they?

Are you guilty?

Of course I am.

You don't think the Party
arrests an innocent man, do you?

Thoughtcrime's a dreadful thing.

It gets a hold of you
without you even knowing it.

I talked in my sleep.

Do you know what they heard me say?

"Down with Big Brother!"

Over and over and over again!

Oh, I'm glad they got me, saved me.

Who denounced you?

Oh, my little girl.

Pretty smart for a nipper, eh?

Oh, I don't bear her any grudge for it.

In fact, I'm proud. It...

It shows I brought her up
in the right spirit anyway.

Barnes!

VQ-4597 Barnes, J.

Let fall that piece of bread.

Stay exactly where you are!

Get up!

What?

Where?

You're going to Room 101.

Comrade!

What else is it you want?

I'll confess anything. Anything!

Only write it down and I'll sign it.

You've starved me for weeks.

Hang me! Shoot me!

But not Room 101!

Room 101.

There's the one you want, not me!

Didn't you hear what he said when he was
pretending to give me that bit of bread?

Now, I'll tell you everything.

No! Listen!

Something went wrong with the telescreen!

Take him, not me!

Not me!

O'Brien.

They got you too?

They got me a long time ago.

You knew this, Winston.

Don't deceive yourself. You did know it.

You've always known it.

One-seventy.

Do you remember writing in your diary

that "Freedom is the freedom
to say two and two make four"?

Yes.

How many fingers am I holding up, Winston?

Four.

And if the Party says it is not four
but five, then how many?

Four.

One-eighty.

How many?

One-ninety.

How many fingers, Winston?

Four! Five, four...

Anything you like!

Only stop the pain!

Winston.

How can I help seeing
what's in front of my face?

Two and two make four.

Sometimes.
Sometimes they're five, sometimes three

or all of them at once.

You must try harder.

Is this...

Is this Room 101?

No.

How long have I been here?

Admitted?

Seven weeks ago, Winston.

During that time,
you've been beaten brutally every day.

You see, I don't pretend.

You have confessed to...

assassination,
to distribution of seditious pamphlets

to religion,
to embezzlement of Party funds

sale of military secrets,
sabotage, murder...

Why do you think
we bring people to this place?

- To make them confess.
- No.

- To punish them.
- No, to cure them.

We're not interested in the stupid crimes
you have committed, only in the thought.

I'm taking trouble with you, Winston,
because you're worth trouble.

You are mentally deranged,
a defective memory.

Now that is curable,
but you must try to help me.

Even now, you are clinging to the
impression that your disease is a virtue.

How can you stop people remembering things?

You can't control it!

You have not controlled it.

You are here because you preferred
to be a lunatic, a minority of one.

Only the disciplined mind
can see reality, Winston.

It needs an act of self-destruction,
an effort of the will.

You must humble yourself
before you can become sane.

Oh, no...

- How many?
- I would...

I would see five if I could.
I'm trying to see five!

You only wish me to think you do.

No, no, you'll kill me
if you do that again!

Four, five, six fingers.
In all honesty, I don't know...

Better.

This time, it will not hurt.

Three thousand.

There are five fingers there.

Do you see five fingers?

Yes...

Still?

No.

No, there's only four again.

But you see now it is possible?

Do you remember writing in your diary

that it did not matter
whether I was a friend or an enemy

since at least I was a person
who understood you and could be talked to?

You were right.

I enjoy talking to you, Winston.

Your mind appeals to me.
It resembles mine.

Except, of course, you happen to be insane.

- No, no...
- Now.

Before we end this session,
you may ask a few questions.

What have you done with Julia?

She betrayed you.

Immediately, unreservedly.

You would scarcely recognise her.

All the deceit, folly, rebelliousness

dirty-mindedness burned out of her.

A perfect conversion.

You tortured her.

Next question.

- Does Big Brother exist?
- Of course he does.

The Party exists.
He is the embodiment of the Party.

But in the same way as I exist?

You do not exist.

I think I exist.

I'm conscious of my own identity.

- Will he die?
- Of course not. How could he?

Sit up.

Go on, Winston.

Ask it.

How did you know?

Very well.

What is in Room 101?

- You know, Winston.
- No.

Everyone knows what is in Room 101.

Take him back to his cell.

Winston, do not imagine
that you will save yourself.

No one who has once gone astray
is ever spared.

Even if we chose to let you
live out your life

you would never escape from us.

What happens to you here is forever.

Things will happen to you here
from which you could not recover

if you lived a thousand years.

Never again will you be capable
of ordinary human feeling

of love, or friendship, or joy of living

or laughter, or curiosity,
or courage or integrity.

You will be hollow.

We shall squeeze you empty

and then we shall fill you with ourselves.

Have you understood, Winston?

One-ninety-five.

You have learned, Winston.
Now you must understand.

You have read the book, Goldstein's book.
Parts of it, at least.

The programme it sets forth is nonsense.

The secret spread of knowledge,
of proletarian rebellion

the overthrow of the Party.

It could not happen in a thousand years,
or a million.

I know. I wrote the book.

Now, start with this thought.

The rule of the Party is forever.

Remember it, Winston.

Two-twenty.

No.

Take him away.

Winston.

Winston.

You know how the Party keeps power.

Now tell me why.

You are...

You are ruling us for our own good

because we are not fit to govern ourselves.

That was stupid, Winston.

I want intelligence.

The Party seeks power for its own sake.

Not as a means but an end.

Power over the human mind,
and power over all...

matter, climate, disease,
the laws of gravity

because we control the mind.

Reality is inside the skull, Winston.

We control the laws of nature.

The stars are not light-years,
but a few kilometres away.

If we wished, we could blot them out.

Here!

That is power.

In our world, there will be no love
but the love of Big Brother.

No laughter but the laugh of triumph
over a defeated enemy.

No art, no science, no literature,
no enjoyment

but always and only, Winston

there will be the thrill of power.

If you want a picture of the future

imagine a boot stamping on a human face

forever.

...prepared
to commit sabotage, even murder?

Yes.

To betray your country to a foreign power?

Yes.

To cheat, forge,
blackmail, disseminate drugs?

Yes.

Your promises, Winston.

And you consider yourself superior to us,
with our lies and our cruelty?

Is that the spirit of man
you hoped would arise and defeat us?

It must.

It must defeat you!

I... I don't know...

I don't know how,
but oh, somehow you'll fail!

If you are a man, Winston,
you are the last man.

Release him.

Your kind is extinct.

We are the inheritors.

Do you understand that you are alone?

There is a mirror.

You shall see yourself

the guardian of the human spirit,
as you really are.

Look!

If you are human, that is humanity.

My poor friend, you are almost well.

Look in my eyes.

It is not enough to obey Big Brother.

You know now what is needed

who it is you must love.

You...

You did that...

to her?

What was that?

Be careful, Winston.

Now...

Oh, Julia!

Julia!

Julia, my love!

Julia!

You once asked me
what was in Room 101.

It is there that we have the means
to root out the last lingering deception.

Pick him up.

What happens in Room 101
is the worst thing in the world.

It varies from individual to individual.

It can be death by burning, burial alive

or something quite trivial, not even fatal.

In your case

we both know, of course, that the
worst thing in the world happens to be...

No! No, no, no...!

No! Not those!

Oh, please, O'Brien!
What is it you want me to do?

No!

By itself, pain is not always enough.

Here in Room 101,
you are meeting the unendurable.

Courage and cowardice are not involved.

You will do what is required of you.

What is it?

How can I do it
when I don't know what it is?

You will find that you know.

Now...

As you will see

this is a mask.

It fits over the head, leaving no exit.

When the plastic door is raised up...

the rats will shoot out like bullets.

It was a common
punishment in Imperial China.

The rats were caught
in the sewers a week ago.

Now they're starving.

No, do it to Julia...

Do it to Julia, not me!

Julia!

I don't care what you do to her!

It's Julia! Julia, not me!

Not me!

Compliments of the 'ouse, comrade.

Twenty-five cents.

Oh, you've been entitled to come here
for the last three months.

Might as well have the use of this...

while you can.

Do you want a regular place reserved?

Just let me know, that's all.

Hello.

Here we go again.

Been bad news all day.

Pincer-movement by the Eurasian forces
towards Brazzaville.

It's not just a matter of losing the Congo.

Anything might be happening out there.

Stand by for an important announcement

from the Ministry of Peace at 20:30 hours.

This is news of the highest importance.

Stand by at 20:30 hours.

Evening, comrade.

Good evening.

There's your table, comrade.

- Where?
- The usual place.

I've got a place
reserved all ready for you.

There's a special bulletin at 20:30 hours.

Sounds bad.

I think I'll...

I'll just go...

It's Julia...?

I...

I've been out for three weeks.

I've got a committee job...

It's quite h-hard work.

I betrayed you.

I betrayed you.

Sometimes, they...

threaten you with something
you can't stand up to...

can't even think about.

And you say, "Don't
do it to me, do it to...

so-and-so."

Afterwards, you pretend you only said it,
didn't really mean it.

That's not true.

At the time, you want it to happen
to the other person.

After that, you don't feel the same
about the other person any longer.

No. No, you don't.

♪ Underneath the spreading chestnut tree ♪

♪ I sold you and you sold me ♪

♪ They lie here and here lie we ♪

♪ 'Neath the spreading chestnut tree ♪

We... we must meet again.

Yes.

Do I keep a place for you?

No.

Over here tonight, eh?

Uh, 20:30 hours.

This is it.

It's victory!

- Victory, after all!
- Comrades.

Here is the bulletin
from the Ministry of Peace.

It tells of victory!

Victory, eh? Listen to that.

By means of a strategic manoeuvre

unparalleled in the history of warfare

our brave troops have utterly routed
vastly superior Eurasian forces!

The whole of this magnificent
and secret operation

was inspired and conducted by Big Brother.

It is his military genius alone

that has brought control
of the whole of Africa

within measurable distance of realisation!

This colossal victory...

Love...

Suddenly...

so suddenly...

My victory.

Love, love...

love!

I love...

Big Brother!