All language subtitles for The Magnificent Evans s01e05

Thank you.

The Journal of Rachel Harris.

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

photographer and genius.

People ask me sometimes, why does an
artist of the calibre of Evans stay in

backward area?

Why does an artist of the calibre of
Evans stay in this backward area?

Home rule or tool, Welsh fanatic.

What are you doing?

I'm

followed

everywhere, you know.

Special branch.

Rubbish.

It's because you can't see them that you
know they're there.

Right. I ask you about Evans because who
knows him better than you?

You who live under the same roof as him.

Cohabitation it amounts to. I have my
own apartment.

And you think you had respectable
employment at the haulage?

How? There you go then.

Translate that into Welsh.

I would have married you, you know.

Will he marry you?

Ring?

Why can't he go somewhere more artistic,
full of hot airs, he is?

He'd do well in London.

He's made his home here.

Well, he made your home here. That's
what we'll do.

I have the unbridled admiration

of Gwyneth Meg Williams.

What's your Gwynedd Meg, William?

A natural blonde, which is rare in these
parts.

Relax, Willie, relax.

Persist ye not in the way of the hernia.

Do something manual with the stuff in
the trailer, will you?

Unload it, Willie.

He tries hard to please.

Oh, yes.

I shall always find it in me to forgive
him, whenever he's so reasonable in the

way of remuneration.

What remuneration?

Feeding him, aren't I?

Training him, aren't I?

Thoroughly untutored he was in the way
of the motor car before I took him in

hand.

And how can I pay him, tell me that, if
you're going to make excessive bids for

old mirrors in auction?

Vanity, vanity.

I never intended to make a bid.

Your arm shot up in the air. I should
think it did shoot up in the air. What

earth were you doing with your cold
hands?

Just a lover's greeting.

A small token of my affection.

The hand of friendship seeking a little
warmth.

Am I to be barred from the assets of my
own company?

Why didn't you just explain that it was
an accident?

Because I'd sooner buy the damn mirror
than confess to a hall full of people

exactly what kind of accident.

Oh, it's like I've always said, you
don't have to go all the way to Puchelli

all you're after is a view.

You don't have to look.

I don't have to look, no.

It's all a question of where your
interest lies, isn't it?

I mean, some people are stirred by great
art.

For others, it's shooting large holes in
small animals.

And some people, indeed, find themselves
deeply moved by such classics of make

-believe as the Guardian newspaper.

With me, it's legs.

Always has been, always will be. Oh, not
any old kind of legs, of course. I

mean, I might be in breach here, call me
sexist if you like, but I can't help

discriminating in favor of those that
are female.

Fascinated I am by the interplay between
the smooth, And the knobbly bits.

What knobbly bits?

Bone structure, girl.

Oh, nothing detrimental.

I don't know the Latin, but find Welsh
legs you've got with prominent high

cheekbones.

Oh, my God.

I've got knobbly bits.

My own sister riding unmarried in an
open car.

And with a paralytic soldier, too.

They must be reserving his phone to tuck
in that condition. They're all dead.

What

are

you doing, girl? Sitting here with a
scale model of a soldier?

Coming to turn with my knobbly bits.
Huh?

Oh.

Oh, Bron, you can tell me, as a sister,
have you ever heard any adverse comments

about my legs?

Please. Not an underprobert.

Things like legs never pass between us.

So, he named the date yet for your
wedding?

Not exactly.

It has to be exactly, girl.

There's no room in this family for
anything short of exactly.

Exactly.

If only you didn't live under the same
roof.

Bad enough sharing a darkroom together.

We're engaged.

I hope you're taking precautions.

We do have a safety light.

Oh, your father would die.

He did die.

I told you.

We turn to chapel.

I'm preaching next week.

Listen to Probert, will you? We have
wisdom.

big eyes and his mouth wide open.

Oh, I see you probe it makes friends
easily.

She threw himself at me.

He's not for sale, I'm afraid, but I've
got a nice oval antique mirror you can

have for practice in your sermons, if
you like.

I've no time for vanity.

Oh, well, you must make time and make
time.

Don't let your life be all hurry, hurry,
hurry.

Oh, felicitations, Bronwyn.

Daughter of rectitude?

Sister -in -law to be?

When is what we'd all like to know.

Be quiet, Oprah.

Working at it, aren't we?

That's common knowledge.

I have my own apartment.

That's true. I know it well.

Home rule or two?

Taking your bicycle for a walk, is it?

I fell off it, didn't I?

I would have married her. like a shot.

That's a proud boast for a man with a
front fork in that condition.

We're always thinking of you over here.

Thinking's one thing. Ringing me up's
another.

Wish you'd pack it in.

You know where we are, if you need our
assistance.

Bron, I'm happy with them.

I have no right to be happy. You should
be getting married.

We'll have the ham a shade thicker in
future.

Modern caterers these days seem to be
obsessed by the continual urge... to

a piece of meat transparent.

Did we bring the Dijon mustard?

Oh, come on now. Surely a car of this
classic calibre is fitted with Dijon

mustard?

If not a standard, then surely among the
optional extras.

Toss the salad, Willie, will you?

Can he do salad?

Oh, you'll get the hang of it.

Important career move, this, for you,
Willie.

Big step.

On the road to gentleman's gentleman,
see?

Oh, yes, you're going to be a great
asset to me, you are, Willie, as

gentleman. Me, who has to snatch hasty
meals between working assignments?

Cushion me, you could, against the
continual pangs of a digestive system

tormented by stress.

Good day, ladies.

You must plead.

Nice of you to say so.

Mind you, you should know if anyone
does.

Get Willie started on the salad. Will
you instruct him in the art of agitating

the lettuce and exciting the cucumber?

Now, hold the plate on, Willie, and
shake the bowl up and down.

if he tossed it in his hat.

Being connected in a close personal
capacity to a man of genius is a

vast extension education -wise when
compared with my former occupation as

invoiced clerk typist to Mrs North Wales
Road Hallage Limited.

However, not all his ways are wise and
wonderful and without embarrassment.

The artistic temperament has a tendency
to...

overstep the bounds sometimes when it
comes to shooting off its mouth.

No, no, Willie, the groom.

Bring me the groom.

You'll find him sitting on a gravestone
somewhere looking pensive.

Don't bring me his elderly relatives.

I am the groom.

Oh, he's the groom.

Late developer, aren't we?

If you'll forgive the photographic
expression.

First flush of youth must have come with
your out, is it?

How's the bride, then, if she ever gets
here?

She says you do not, ladies their age.

My mum says she's older than that.

He's suffering terribly from a nasty
attack of insufficient tailoring.

I tell you what we're going to do with
you.

We're going to have you sitting on the
gravestone by there, in pensive mood,

classical posture of reflection.

I hope it won't damage the suit.

Don't bend a lot, my ma 'am said.

What kind of unnatural advice is that
for a man on his wedding day?

Heading a few sticks of furniture.

Oh, no, living my mom's. Oh.

Oh, is that your old mom up there?

Forceful, grey -haired woman standing in
the doorway?

Looking rather unconvincing in a gay
little hat?

Aye, that's her.

Yeah. How's she off the furniture?

House is full of it. Yeah, they don't
give an inch, do they?

Never mind. You mark my words, son.

There will come a time when you will be
able to see your way clear to setting up

a home of your own. And what better way
to see your way clear than by becoming

the proud owner of an antique, ornate
oval mirror.

See your way clear in that, all right?

I don't care how big she is round there.

If he listened to it, ma 'am, he
wouldn't be getting married.

75 quid.

Property of a Welsh nobleman.

Tell you what, 73 and we'll deliver.

It's very nice, but my ma 'am wouldn't
have it in the house.

Oh, is she?

So you haven't even got home roll at
home?

Tell you what, it would make a
marvellous present for Gwyneth Meg

A natural blonde, uncommon in certain
places.

I was just passing.

Carry on passing as often as you like.

A musical reach, but thrifty.

Supernaturally skilled in all the
harmonies of hanging on to their money.

you, I nearly had him. A few moments
more exposed to that mirror, I would

had him.

Why are people fascinated by mirrors?

They don't seem too fascinated at 65
pounds.

Maybe it's too expensive.

I shall overlook that remark on account
of how well you have adapted to my

photographic requirements since
abandoning heavy rural underwear.

We should be quiet.

Willie can hear you. Oh, don't worry
your pretty little legs about Willie.

Willie keeps everything under his hat.

Including his ears and most of his nose,
apparently.

Yes.

You can keep that under your hat and
all.

You should pay him out of it.

Well, I'm scouring the sale rooms, and I
never go to the Oxfam shop, Sam.

No, no, no. As soon as one comes up
reasonable, he shall have it. I intend

kit him out first class, gradually.

You ask me about the fascination of
mirrors.

There's a powerful magic in mirrors.
They are objects of occult significance.

Oh, I don't believe in all that.

Don't ever say that to Bela Lugosi. He's
dead.

Especially now he's dead.

You believe in him, don't you?

Willie, you remember Bela Lugosi?

No, no, no, that's wee Georgie Wood, you
silly old fool.

No, no, barely Lugosi. He had to turn to
vampiring on account of his terrible

accent, you know.

His reflection never showed in the
mirror, did you know that?

All you ever saw was his top hat and the
dim outline of his dickie.

We mustn't forget, we've got to be there
by 5 o 'clock for the photo. I'd better

do the lunch.

What photo?

The three winners of the fishing
contest.

Five o 'clock by the river. Oh, yes, I
remember.

Dangling some poor dead fish.

Worse than Bella Lugosi.

Dear man, just a brief note from my own
apartment to tell you that everything's

fine and I'm very happy.

I know you never brought me up to be
happy and I'm sorry if I've broken a

family tradition, but the work here is
interesting.

and often full of little surprises, such
as were rarely, if ever, available at

Messrs North Wales Road Haulage Limited.

Mr Higgins, what have you got in there
that feels so un -Welsh and weird?

Oh,

that's

it, Willie.

Sneak up on it quietly like a good
fisherman.

Why did you dress him up like that?
Well, it was an idea which came to me

I was browsing through an old pair of
trousers.

I thought, kit him up like a fisherman,
I thought. Yes, worked out very well,

piscatorily, that.

I thought I would dress him into the
picture, you see, just to fill up a gap.

Only don't smile like that, will you?
Otherwise we'll finish up with a bigger

gap than we started.

Off you go, love.

Street on a bright Wednesday. A
challenge artistically to catch the

fasten for all time the essence of this
passing moment.

It's all entangled.

Come on. Things are not being passed
very fast this passing moment, are they?

Come on, man. Don't make me lose the
mood.

Illusiva smoked the sweet Welshness of
things.

And here I am snagged in warm polyester.
Don't put it on your head. It's ungold.

Is there no way out of this photographic
assistant?

What's he making her do in broad
daylight?

Some kind of unmarried strapped horse.

Oh, the hair's wicked.

Is my hair a mess now?

No, entirely suitable, you look.

Flushed and dishevelled as if fresh from
a nuptial bed.

Be quiet!

Oh, you don't have to worry about all,
Willie.

Notoriously deaf he is, in weirdness.

What is this driving in bumps? Enough of
this pauses put upon the pedal, if you

don't mind. You put him in big rubber
boots. He can't drive in waders.

Put you in black stockings. You didn't
immediately lose control of both legs,

did you?

Apart from one magic night, I remember,
when wild you'd grown due to a surfeit

of Barry Manilow records.

It weren't the Barry Manilow records.

I'd been taking this stuff on
prescription on account of a mild virus

Oh, Yes, you've got the bug, all right.

Oh, stop!

What's this?

The Welsh kamikaze?

You told him to stop!

I know.

He's getting too obedient.

I'll have to stop him watching that
sheepdog programme.

We will inquire of yonder yokels how far
we are from the river.

Do you think they'll tell us? Oh, yes.

Steeped in local know -how they'll be.

I can smell it from here.

Drive on, Willie, as far as yonder
peasants.

Him look.

Hot one.

The artist?

Or is he a theatrical hoofdarm?

Good morrow, country fellows.

Too lazy, see?

Oofta.

Far from the river, are we?

What's the river?

That's it, yes, the river.

I told you, caught on in no time, yeah?

Oh, she was the river for that. Never
again went it all, is he?

Oh, no, not in a hut like that.

Look at those country faces. Those lines
etched on by years of struggle against

all but the simplest concepts.

My old granny had a heart like that.

Humanity's hardcore.

All the sensitivity of a free -range
turnip.

Maybe it is your old granny's heart.

Those expressions, like three holes in
the universe.

Drive on, Willie.

Faces like cow pats in cropped grass.

Drive on, Willie.

Centuries of inbreeding and careless
personal hygiene.

My old granny had a ribbon in it.

Flighty as that, was she.

Bet she's flighty, that Rachel Harris.

They say she has her own apartment.

That's what I want. A nice tight group.

Then when I give the word, Willie will
step into midstream and be there in the

background, adding life and movement to
the composition with his championship

casting. Can he do casting?

Oh, yes, he'll get the hang of it.

Are you ready, Willie?

Here we go, then.

Can he do droning?

No, no.

Poor Willie.

He looked so small when the fishermen
dragged him out, didn't he?

I'm surprised they didn't throw him
back.

Still, it all turned out very well on
the whole, didn't it?

Daring action shots I got of greater
river rescue.

And then back we came to dry our Willie
on the premises.

I'm changing.

You certainly are. You'd never have done
that when you first came here.

The choice is entirely mine, I realise,
huh?

I, um, I brought all her equipment in
from the car.

I know. I saw you from the window.

There she goes, I thought. My love, my
personal assistant.

Moving proudly.

Her little shoulder blades waggling just
as though she was wearing her breasts

on backwards.

Oh, you're scandalously frank with these
parts.

Oh, to hell with convention, woman. I
say it again.

Shoulder blades.

Shoulder...