All language subtitles for The Magnificent Evans s01e04.eng

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A journal of Rachel Harris.

An account of the life and works of her
employer and fiancé, Plantagenet Evans,

photographer and genius, under whose
roof I now reside.

Though naturally in my own apartment.

Today I am writing on the very banks of
a stream where our relationship took a

giant step forward.

It was here he sent me, looking for
water for his radiator.

It was here he crept up behind me for a
huge photographic close -up.

It was here I first realised how serious
he was in his intentions towards me.

I am drawn back here from time to time
as a means of recollecting the powerful

emotions of that summer evening and in
the hope of perhaps finding the earrings

which somehow became detached in the
proceedings.

As an example of how the personality of
genius can transform even a routine

assignment, I feel I should describe
what happened when the local paper asked

her to take the attached photograph.

The day began like any other.

Let's have the car polished and
gleaming.

Damn it, let's incite the proletariat.

Wash the wheels.

Wax everything.

There he goes, they'll say.

Immaculate Evans, oppressor of the poor.

And try to do yourself up a bit, will
you? Will he look like a chauffeur if

can? What kind of garb is that for a
bourgeois lackey?

Can't we have him in uniform?

Something nice and servile with buttons?
Why is he not in uniform?

You made inquiries.

They're expensive.

Oh, well, I can understand that.

I'm a reasonable man.

Well, do your best, will you?

Improvise something, will you? Hey,
don't eat that paper. I haven't read it

What have we got here?

Oh.

So, what's that?

Prune juice.

Prune? Oh, Rachel.

Rachel, have I weaned you gradually away
from plain cotton underwear only to

find you sitting here at my bedside, my
bachelor bed where I spend long hours

alone after you've got up to light the
fire?

Stop taking notes, will you?

Offering me prune juice?

My mum swears by it.

I don't damn well blame her either.

You see, Willie, how constant is the
battle for the artist determined to live

his life frivolously as nature intended.

Seriousness lurks round every corner.
One unguarded moment round hereabouts

they'll have you in chapel or up to your
clacker in prune juice.

Don't go, no, don't go in your
unsuitable clothes.

You'll stay and have a bit of breakfast,
won't you?

Sit, sit.

Ah, sit.

Stay, stay.

I know the wages around here are a bit
short at times and a bit slow in coming,

but think positively. You've always got
a home here, as long as you're useful.

I've opened your mind up to untold
horizons, haven't I, eh? And here I am,

sharing my breakfast with you.

Here, get that down your underpants.

Her old mum swears by it.

And you know what a foul -mouthed old
faggot she is.

No, no.

Oh, no, I don't like that expression at
all.

No, that's terrible, terrible.

Can't you express some other sort of
emotion?

I mean, we're not doing a constipation
advert.

Hey, don't start fidgeting.

Don't fidget, man. It's not a movie
camera, this, you know.

It's supposed to be a sitter, not a
twitcher.

I have to try to compose you in this
frame, you see, right now. I want you to

very slowly move your face just a
fraction to the left, will you?

Off you go. No, no, wait!

Not like that. Slower. Just a fraction,
I said. Not a... Oh, you've got a

runaway face there. Could someone catch
this man's face, please, and put it back

where it belongs?

Try not to shout at them.

He's the chairman of the council.

Oh, is he?

Can't you relax, man?

I can usually.

Yes, well, I thought so. I mean, the
things that get through council,

must be relaxed.

You have to have the chain.

I have to have the chain. It's an
official photo.

Oh, well, there you are. You see my
problem, then, don't you? Big chain,

head.

Small head?

Well, it throws the composition out of
proportion completely, you see.

You think I've got a small head? Oh,
yes, photographically speaking, it's

infinitesimal.

I wonder... Wait a minute.

No, no, perhaps that's going to...

Small head.

If you have to wear jewellery with a
head as small as that, you'd be better

with a bangler, a couple of charm
bracelets.

I never knew I had a small head.

What delicate small features.

Would you like a cup of tea, Mr Jenkin?
Hey, that's a good idea. Yes, get him a

cup of tea. I'll have a cup of tea too,
yes.

He'll probably be less jittery when he's
had a cup of tea.

Yes. Chuck a couple of Valium in it.

Not his, mine.

We'll wait. We'll just wait till we've
had our tea. All right?

Right.

Married, are you?

Thirty years.

Oh, dangerous age.

Council typist looking better by the
minute, I shouldn't wonder.

Don't panic, don't panic. I haven't been
spying on you. It's just that we

artists sense these things, you see.

Otherwise, how could we capture your
soul in colour, in glossy matte or satin

finish on photographic paper, you see?

What I was after, really, was something
suitable for the council chamber.

Yeah. Well, that's no good, is it, no?

That's more suitable for the zoo, that,
no.

Never mind, don't worry. Leave it to me.
I'll think of something when I've had

my tea.

Happy at home, are you? Yes. Oh.

That's good, yes.

Can't be easy working surrounded by
slender young women, can it, eh?

Must take a bit of gloss off the
anticipate in your pension.

Well, you have to observe a very
strict...

code of behaviour.

Oh, well, naturally. Most fitting, yes.

One little slip up there and that's one
little extra you can't bob on the rates,

isn't it?

Nature beats her paths relentlessly
through all our defences. I'm surprised

can concentrate on council business at
all in that atmosphere of sexual

The main area of temptation lies in the
low -slung, frilly blouses of Mrs Megan

Lloyd -Williams.

She's on loan to me from the sanitation
department.

Sanitation department, eh? No chance of
a dirty weekend there, then.

Nevertheless, they are thorns in my
flesh.

I get hot under the collar.

Yes, and all the time you're wishing it
was her collar you were getting hot

under. Yes.

Still, temperature, mind you,
temperature might be the key to this

Overheated are the gilded palaces of
local government. In order to reproduce

temperature which will cope with the
practices of chastity, what you really

is the Trigvor Swedish Wonder wood
-burning stove.

Much more controllable, temperature
-wise.

I happen to be the sole agent for them.
I've got one in the kitchen with her.

Oh, I couldn't consider any new
apparatus, not without a voting poll,

Councillor. Urge them. In the name of
municipal decorum, not only will it

your temperature, but one wag of your
damper, and you'll create enough smoke

never to see the pendulous charms of Mrs
Meg and Lloyd Williams.

Eh? A damp stove smoking the place out.

There you are, you see. Just what the
council needs for clouding the issue.

I knew already it was going to be a bad
day.

And then to prove it, I had another
visit from my sick gender husband,

rescuing me from a fate worse than
gossip.

Just a minute.

I'll be with you in a moment.

Oh, Rachel.

Come home, love.

I am home.

Being married in a proper manner.

You could have our barrel.

I have my own apartment.

That's an advantageous rent, being
family.

Almost advantageous.

Your husband's tight with money.

Yes, bless him.

And many other good points, too.

Get yourself something similar. I don't
want anything similar.

For a husband, you do.

I can?

Someone to give you absolutely no cause
for alarm.

His index link, too.

I am, it's true.

Very comforting.

Very comforting.

But what about excitement?

Magic?

Poetry? Romance?

Oh, not in the Borough Surveyor's
department, love.

A book of ruin is brought back.

Fatal? One whiff of magic, they'd have
you down for early retirement.

Oh. Oh, come on, Rachel, love. Give up
this wild free life.

It's my life and nobody else's.

We wouldn't want to restrict you, would
we? Oh, no, no.

All we ask is don't bring yourself to
the attention of the Finance and General

Purposes Committee, especially at budget
allocation time. Oh,

what is that? What is that beautiful
perfume?

Oh, it's like crabapple blossom in fresh
mown hay.

It's so sweet.

No,

it's not that.

Oh, oh.

Oh, Bronwyn, it is you.

Oh, felicitations.

Oh, what could be more fragrant?

A nerving way out of raising his hat.

There's no good comes of hat raising
like that.

Raised our Bron's temperature, though,
hasn't it? Look at her flushing. I know,

love. Coming at you like that.

But it's no basis for marriage.

Where's the security?

Right.

What I have here is a passing poodle.

Oh, that's lovely.

I've left Willie dealing with exactly
what it was passing.

Whose is it, I wonder?

Whose is it? Well, it's Willie's now, I
suppose, if he wants it.

Who am I to interfere with the contents
of his shovel?

I am more interested in this little
photogenic creature.

Blasphemy. Stop. Oh, I can't do with
animals. Oh, Crow, but you have the soul

a tin of corned beef.

I have a bit in the building society,
though. Ah, now I'd like to talk to you

about that. Oh, accounts of which tend,
however, to be grossly exaggerated.

Big mouth.

On the other hand, you would be well
advised to take advantage of certain

investment opportunities that have
arisen in the photographic world.

He's married, he gets all the advice
indeed.

Oh, a lump sum?

A lump sum is waiting for the shrewd
investor.

Promotional calendars. Now, a glossy
print of this attractive little

for instance, would have a ready market.

A dog photo?

Oh, yes.

Especially if clamped to the bosom of
some radiant female shown off to her

advantage. So don't clamp into that
bosom. Let him finish, will you?

Hi, Mr Evans. We were out on assignment.
We've got that picture to take for the

local paper.

Don't interrupt your employer, Rachel.

What kind of way is that to seek
advancement?

Excuse me. Oh, that's better, yes.
That's good from you. How well displayed

her best advantage?

Oh, completely.

Hey!

I've seen those calendars. It had you
entirely in the news.

How dare you, sir? How dare you impugn
the reputation of this establishment?

would not be in the nude, as you so
crudely put it.

She'd be wearing the poodleman. Oh!

Oh, that's masterful.

Well,

you wanted them out of the way, didn't
you?

Oh, how thoughtfully is an occasion.

Motor mechanic wins talent contest.

They just want a simple photo.

Assume, mouse girl, there's no simple
photos.

There are in the local paper.

Only the artistic challenge to capture
the rich variety of humankind.

How much they pay for this job?

The usual.

Not much rich variety there, then, is
there?

Here we are, 23.

Hold it, Willie.

The chauffeur opened the door for her.

Style girl is everything.

But it won't open, will it? He's fixed
it, hasn't he?

Willie? Of course, Willie. Who else have
we got?

Willie, yes.

Turn your arm and do anything, can't
you?

Uniform's coming on well, too.

Lovely when we get the court and
trousers.

places in Wales, it does my old heart
good to see.

I suppose you wouldn't fancy appearing
on a promotional calendar, would you?

No, I wouldn't. No, I thought not. Never
mind. To each his own job.

Bring the stuff.

So off he goes.

Up the path.

The mechanic's not at home, but his
mother is.

The kind of brassy, blonde creature who
can't resist playing up to men.

And, of course, he loves it.

Be quiet, will you?

Naturally, I'm proud of him. He's my
only one.

Even then, they leave stretch marks.

But I've managed to keep my figure.

Oh, you have kept it, yes. Well, not
that it did me any good, mind.

My husband abandoned me. He went off
with a wild look in his eye. Oh, dear.

So, I'm mostly alone.

Especially Tuesdays and Thursdays and
Sundays till 7 .30. Oh.

Now, haven't I seen you before somewhere
on the cover of some well -thumbed

magazine? Do a bit of modelling, dear.

Oh, no, I couldn't show myself off like
that.

Oh, let's not be too hasty. I mean,
those eyes, they're just the right shape

looking well in a swimsuit.

At present, I am without a swimsuit.
Well, there you are. You see, the

permutations are endless.

That's it. Go on, grab his leg.

She has to have a touch.

This is Mr.

Tomlin.

Great one she is for body contact.

I used to have a Welsh terrier just the
same as her.

Mr. Tomlin services my TV.

Oh, I wouldn't be at all surprised, yes.

It was Mr. Tomlin who persuaded me to
rent rather than buy.

Aye, she has the best set in the valley.
Yes, I'd noticed.

In my darkest hour, Mr. Tomlin was a
tower of strength.

We'll have to come out when we call you.

Mr. Evans has come to take a photo.

For the paper.

The paper?

It's from the paper?

Only the local one. Still, you never
know how far it might go. Look, I can't

afford to be in the papers.

I'm only here in a technical capacity.

What are new parts needed like?

Oh, yes, 24 -hour service, no doubt.

Right, out in all weather. Yes, well,
there's always a place for the skilled

artisan. Oh, he's seen me through some
bad patches.

Only when a new fault's been recorded at
this address, mate.

Oh, cause me dimpling in that cheeky
little way he has.

I hardly know the woman.

One moment, dear lady. My man will open
the door for you.

Oh, that'll be nice.

It'll be a miracle.

All right,

all right.

We are all of us martyrs to the
contrariness of everyday things, aren't

Rachel? She's had to climb in and out a
few times.

I beg your pardon?

I was referring to the car.

Stuck, is it?

It would certainly appear to give that
impression, yes.

It's over the top, I'm afraid.

Oh.

Is my foot near the floor?

Yes, we hope so, sincerely.

There can't be much more of you left.

You had the leg over there. Well, it'll
make a change, won't it?

They're all a little tangled.

Uncommonly warm for the time of day,
isn't it?

I'll go and fetch my son.

Hurry back.

She's throwing us out the tube.

You could have appealed her leg before
wicket.

Whizzy?

Willie?

My card.

Plantagenet Evans.

Photographic artist.

Antiques and bygones.

Bought, sold and exchanged.

Wears a lot of unnecessary heart.

You there.

The one with the boot marked face.

The oily person.

Welsh legs?

Oh, and look at that chest. The
characteristic contours of a mountain

Go forever, they will, on these little
short legs, you know.

Short? Oh, don't worry about it. They'll
last you. Use sparingly.

Medium, more like.

Not short.

Oh, as you wish.

Well, now, colourful old character,
perhaps you could conduct us on your

to short legs.

to the proprietor of this mechanical
establishment.

I am the proprietor. Oh,
congratulations.

I've rarely seen a more effective
disguise.

I think he's lying.

But he wasn't lying.

And thus he quickly became the target
for the hard sell.

He didn't know it yet, but he was on the
brink of his first advertising

campaign.

There you go, pointing at me.

Why should I need a series of photos?

Well, to be the very centre and heart of
your advertising.

What advertising?

Oh, have you no pride, man? Have you no
ambition to bring this shoddy

establishment to the notice of the
world? Your own calendar.

We got a calendar.

There's one in the workshop.

Yes, but you're not on it, are you? It's
a girl with... Never mind what she's

with. But they'll never want to swap it
for a photo of me. Oh, nonsense. Here we

are, then. Nonsense.

Where's he gone now? Where's he gone?
Oh, I've lost him now. He slipped

my fingers like a pint of sump oil.

Or in his case, half pint.

Oh, this is the talented young vocalist,
is it?

I found him having a sandwich. I'm
entitled to a sandwich. Oh, God.

Yes.

Very musical, I can tell, yes.

I do apologise for his condition. I
found him spraying in the yard. Yeah,

sandwiched by the look of it.

No, no, madam. No, no, that's entirely
inadequate.

Entirely inadequate. Allow me. Where's
the bucket?

Here's one.

How are you, girl?

Like I've been for ages.

Nearly, but not quite married.

Stick at it.

Right, come on. I'm not swimming
screens.

Shut your wiper.

There. There we go. Now, how old are
you, lad? Seventeen.

Oh, seventeen.

The madcap years of youth.

What a golden time for pernicious
habits.

I hope you're up to a few, are you?

He's always been a good boy. Oh, the
mothers are the last to know. Twas ever

thus. Now, listen to me, boy. There are
a lot of wicked women in this world. You

take the advice of your Uncle Tomlin.
Always rent rather than buy.

What have you done to his nose?

Done to his nose?

Yes, what have you done to his nose?
Well, that's all right. Just brought it

to a high gloss, madam. Don't get
excited.

He's altered your nose.

He's altered your nose. He has altered
my nose. Don't argue with me.

That was not the nose you left our house
with this morning.

It is my own nose, honest.

Oh, I shall go and get the manager.

I hold you responsible for this. Oh,
dear, I just picked up a sponge and now

under suspicion.

You have a go, will you?

I never liked her. She's got shifty
legs.

Prone to sudden attacks, your mam, is
she? My mam?

No. Well, a bit emotional, is she? She
hates the wealth channel and toothpaste

on bathroom mirrors.

Oh, well, that's a classical pattern.

She thinks I'm too young to get married.

Do you think I'm too young to get
married?

Don't ask him. He's the last one you
should ask.

Is that what you really want, to rush
into things? I do, I really do. I want

rush into things. Yes, I thought you
might. The thing is, you see, the

is for people who are unattractive to
women.

Am I attractive to women?

Well, cleaned up, new suit, bit of
deodorant around the sticky parts.

On balance, on balance, I would have to
say no.

It's true. I'm not attractive to women.
You mustn't think like that. Not at your

age. You could be attractive to women.

Stop depressing him.

On the other hand, a good expensive
studio portrait taken in a flattering

is a milestone on the road to success
with the female classes. I mean, look,

you've got your whole life ahead of you,
haven't you? Such as it is.

Somewhere there's a little girl waiting,
a little ugly girl, who is on the

threshold of blossoming into a big ugly
woman.

He comes up smiling.

He's got a nice face, really.

Nobody to run over his face.

A mother notices these things.

Oh, that's not him.

That's not my Clovis.

Well, who the Clovis is he then?

I never said I was her Clovis. She
caught me in the middle of a sandwich,

grabbed my arm, she did.

Oh, he was standing where my Clovis was
meant to be standing?

Well, I naturally assumed he was my
Clovis.

Anyone can make a mistake here.

Ah, here's my Clovis now.

At least I'm almost... Oh, sure it is.

Ma 'am?

Ah, you see?

Yes, well, as I've got another one to
clean now, why am I always wiping

mechanics? This gentleman has come to
take your photo.

For the papers. The papers?

On account of his singing.

His singing?

The first Friday one.

Where did he do this singing?

Where we were away. Among the English.

Oh, among the English.

No wonder.

Among the English.

Hey, are they asking? an encore, I may
tell you. Oh, well, they wouldn't know

any better, would they?

Hold that, will you? Come on, camera.
Where's the camera?

She's such a brassy blonde creature.

Do you really find her attractive?

No, no, no, no. It's just her manner,
really. That's all. She has a rather

engaging personality.

Oh, especially from the back.

Wide -angle lens for that one. Right,
come on.

Come on, let's go and photograph you.
How do I look? Oh.

You're glossed all over like French
polish. Come on.

Yes.

No, no.

No, there's no life in it. Can't you
animate him a bit?

As a subject, his face is a paradox.

I've never seen anything so shiny look
so dull.

Come on, Clovey.

Put it all together.

Put your leg up or something.

Oh. Us more like it.

Both put your legs up.

Oh, that's great.

Beautiful.

Did you hear that, fellas?

Himba there in a terribly grand heart.
Put your photo in the paper just for

singing.

Take a portal. Make a nice group.

Excuse me, would you mind just standing
over there?

Just for a minute, that's it.

No, then.

Oh,

yes. This calendar's going to sell.

Legs on wheels, I'm going to call it.

That should put Pirelli's nose out of
joint.

Oh, yes, look at that. That's definitely
January. Look at that.

Definitely a promise of spring in that
pose.

Spring? I bet she's broken a few of them
in her time. What kind of woman, I ask

you, would appear in an attitude of such
a flagrant nature?

Have you seen February?

Look at that. No, you don't.

Please.

Thank you.

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