All language subtitles for the.hour.uk.2011.s01e01.hdtv.xvid-RIVER.English.edit.Addic7ed.com

The newsreels are dead.

We've bored the public for too long.

Give me this opportunity
and I'll prove it.

Oh...

Thank you!

Of course, I'll need an assistant.

Two minutes, Mr Lyon.

But may I say one more thing...

you haven't seen my best yet.

There needs to be more on mike.

Track in on caption three,
then lock off.

Stand by, studio.

Mr Lyon.

Cue Grams.

Five seconds...

Five...

four...

'Yes, I'm ready.'

three...

two...

one.

Cue Johnny.

And here they are,
the debutantes of 1956...

Roll newsreel.

Young ladies of distinction
enjoying a day at the Royal Ascot,

and one young woman in particular

has caught the eye of a certain
leading man - actor Adam Le Ray.

Engagement looks set for
the honourable Ruth Elms,

Daughter of Lord Elms
of Framlingham,

to this eligible young bachelor.

All of London society awaits
the peal of wedding bells.

Cue telecine.

'And now, here is a summary
of the news from abroad.'

Did you get it?

WE got it.

Producer?

Foreign desk.

Bravo!

I haven't told Freddie yet.

Good luck.

'In Egypt, election victory
for the Arab Nationalist,

with Prime Minister Anthony Eden
during last years' visit to Cairo,

where they discussed the future
of the Suez Canal Company.

'And that is the end of the news
and newsreel from Alexandra Palace.

'Good night.'

And thanking you, gentlemen -
and Alice...

for another fascinating evening.

May you go home once again
happy in the knowledge

that we have delivered
the important news of the day

with the same brisk banality as
a debutante coming out in Mayfair.

Three...

two...

one.

Good evening, madam.
Good evening.

'Tutankhamun did somewhat neglect
his duties as a son, so...'

See? Even the Pharaohs
failed to write to their mothers.

Er, and on that note,
papers in by Friday, please.

Any late papers will be returned
to you unread, be warned.

Hello, operator,
put me through to Bloomsbury 7428.

Darling, our guests are arriving.

Lipstick.
I left my lipstick in the...

Impeccable as ever, Johnny.

Thank you.

Moneypenny.

James.

Friday's running order.
Next time, do it yourself,

I am not your secretary.

Night.

And what of tomorrow, Mr Wengrow?

I'm gunning for Kennedy
for the VP nom, but who knows?

A new hat for the Queen Mother?

A rare sow with 20 in her litter?

Mr Lyon, tonight. The Claringdon.

You're covering the engagement.
How could I forget, Georgie?

Who's getting married? Just
another debutante. Night, George.

How was I?
Bit slow on that last cue.

Nice watch.
Does the broker know it's missing?

Banker. Please. The details of your
love life do not interest me at all.

Where did you dine?

Sheekey's.

We had oysters and afterwards
he took me to the theatre.

Dinner, then the theatre.
I do love a man who plans.

That way, no-one sleeps
on a full stomach.

Can I cadge a lift?

Eight letters, 14 down. "Treacherous
foe in bad or in good faith."

Something-O, something-F,
something-D.

Bona fide.

Ready?

We are calcifying
in television news. Agreed.

Hell, martial law
may have been imposed in Poland

but we've got footage of
Prince Rainier on honeymoon
with his showgirl.

And, hallelujah,
they're dining with the Queen.

We are the dose of reassurance that
all's right in the world. Agreed.

Because some edict sent down
from God knows who

is telling us what and how
we broadcast. We will escape.

Yes, b-but, Freddie...

Don't worry, Moneypenny,
I'll put in a good word for you.

You're coming with me.

Bravo, bravo.

'Platform five, 10:30 to Boscastle.'

'Hurry, please. Hurry.'

Freddie, listen. Your programme...

it's everything we've been
waiting for, working together.

It's exciting!

But I need to talk to you
before your interview.

Stay and have a drink with me.

And miss all the fun?

You stay here
and wait for your banker,

but I warn you...

he'll be late.
They're always late.

If he's still not here by nine,
come and find me.

Just try to keep a clear head.

You're impossible!

Evening, gentlemen. Shall we?

Ladies and gentlemen.

It's truly wonderful to be able
to share our engagement

with so many loved ones.

Lord and Lady Elms,

it's an honour and a privilege to
join this eminent family.

And so without further ado,

I ask you to raise your glasses
to my beautiful fiancee...

Ahh.

And we look forward to seeing you
a week on Saturday.

And do let's keep our fingers
crossed and hope the sun shines.

Ruth and Adam.

Ruth and Adam.

Are you hiding?

No...

Yes.

I hate parties.

And I'd just written,

"The newly-engaged, honourable
Miss Elms was glowing."

Hello, Freddie.

Miss Elms.

Would you like to comment?

Yes...

if you pour me
another one of those.

How old are you now? 20? 21?

Old enough.

I was ten when you left.

Well...

Congratulations. I wish you...

the absolute best.

"A conspiracy is nothing but a
secret agreement of a number of men

"for the pursuance of policies which
they dare not admit in public."

You wrote that.

Actually, Mark Twain did, but...
Damn!

Tilt your head.

Pinch the bridge.

I'm sorry.

It's only a handkerchief.

You see it, don't you, Freddie?

You always have.

There you are, darling.

Good night, Miss Elms.

God, you're drunk.

Not nearly enough.

Would you like to take
the lady's coat, sir?

I'm sure she'll pick it up later.

Hello? It's just me, Dad.

Go inside,
Mary's out for the evening.

I wouldn't trouble you, see, but
I have to speak with you privately.
It's very important.

Good day, Frederick?

You should have the light on.

Mrs B not been in?

The washing up's still in the...

What you watching?

The only thing wrong with her
is her weight.

You should see her now.
Blimey - she's enormous!

Did you see the news tonight?
The usual rubbish.

How's that nice girl?

Miss Rowley?

She's...

fine.

'Look, will you leave it to me
for a day or so?

'I just want to give it a bit of
thought. Chew it over.'

Good morning, Broadcasting House.

One moment, please.

8:30.

I said 8:30.

Don't mix single malt with Martini.

Oh, wonderful!

Frederick Lyon for the Director
of Programmes. Of course.

I've brought the manifesto.

That was written years ago,
when we were very drunk.

You were drunk.

I was sober.

You've put three Ts in topicality.

7th floor, please.

Thank you.

Freddie...

Think I should start
with the Marx quote?

Freddie, you really need to focus.
No, you're right.

Don't want to scare them off
straight away.

Not when one is looking to run...

It doesn't have a name yet.

This changing-face-of-television
news programme with no name.

I'd pitch on balancing
London news with the provinces.

It's important they know
you're interested in stories
in Bradford, Manchester, Leeds...

Why?

Because you need to show them...

Show them what?

That you're familiar with
the demands of home affairs.

That's your job.

You need to keep your options open.

Moneypenny, your eyes look piggy
when you lie.

I'm the producer.

The new programme. Clarence wants me
to be the producer.

Right.

You produce, I'll present.

Bel, Freddie, there you are.

Now, breathe, Freddie... Clarence!

He's waiting
but he has a packed day. Later!

We speak in full sentences,
we listen,

we don't try any funnies.
Yes, right.

Your reputation goes before you. The
good, I have been able to confirm,

the bad was youthful recklessness,
which in your more mature years,

you have left behind.
Clarence, I can...

Freddie, this is my programme.

It's very important
that I get the right team

and that you are part of it.

Ditch the manifesto.

Bel told me.

Top button.

13 minutes, 36.8 seconds.

Remarkable.

There.

There...

ballsed it.
Top of the frame, bloody boom.

How do we run that?

I want two men at Lord's
next week to film Jim Laker.

One to hold the camera, the other to
keep the bloody boom out of sight.

You play? Yes.

No.

Do I need to?

I like football.

Which team?

Derby County. My mother was born...

So, not really.

You're something to do with
natural history.

Heard a rumour they're setting up
a unit somewhere in the BBC.

I'm a big fan of animals.

Clarence tells me
you're a brilliant journalist.

Give me tomorrow's news.

Well, a lot can happen in 24 hours.

Eisenhower looks like he'll run for
another term, but that's obvious.

I'm more interested in the underdog.

Rumour has it that the young
Mr Kennedy is a contender

for the Vice Presidential
Democratic nomination.

But in newsreels,
we don't do scoops.

Let me guess, accounts?

Researcher. You're flying out
with a crew to the Amazon, Monday.

Something like that.

Do you take sugar?

That's a pretty blouse.

So, 60 minutes,
six days to get it together.

Seventh day it's out there.
Three slots. Tell me how it looks.

At the top,
New Commonwealth immigration.

75,000 people arriving here
every year from the colonies,
but what does that really mean?

Martin Luther King gives
a public address in San Francisco.

The birth of the new Negro,
one who is not crippled by
fear and self-loathing,

but driven by dignity and destiny.

But we don't even challenge the fact
that in every hotel window

we still, without shame,
say "No Coloureds. No Irish".

Second story, MacMillan
and the credit squeeze, obviously.

And third?

13 minutes, 38.6 seconds.
It's a good story.

You've got a boom tracking
in every shot.

Seeing him cross
that finishing line's the thing!
It makes it more real,

seeing the boom. It's the mechanics
of how we bear witness,
because that's what we do.

What one tries to do.
Reveal fleeting moments of history,

not with apology, not as it is now,
endless static newsreel.

A man who never leaves his desk
delivering the story

as if it's the dry, five-minute
warm-up act to Hancock's Half Hour!

We all want to be entertained,
but while we're all busy laughing,

Russia's aligning its missiles
and declaring World War Three!

It has to be the hour
that you can't miss.

The hour you have to see.

Putting real journalists
in front of the camera

is sending out the message
that you take the news seriously.

So you see yourself
in front of the camera, Mr Lyon?

I never understand women
and magazines.

They only ever buy them
for the pictures.

You're so right. And those things
called novels, impossible!

So many words...

This is where I ask you for a drink.

Sorry. I have to pack for
South America.

Is this some kind of joke?

Home affairs!

House of Lords garden parties
and outbreaks of foot
and mouth in Keswick?

The audacity to even think
you could present this programme!
He asked for my opinion.

And you gave it.
Including telling him to stuff it!

I said talk to him, calm him down.

I said he's a risk...
He's always a bloody risk.

But you said no.
You don't lead the story.

The story leads you, Freddie.
First rule of news, hmm?

Well, maybe you are better off
where you are. Two minutes.

You're not in accounts, are you?

No. Mr Lyon.
I am a big fan of your work.

How, exactly?

I mean which bit? Of my work?

Freddie.

Mr Madden, my apologies.
This is Miss Rowley.

Yes, I know exactly who
Miss Rowley is.

May I introduce you
to the face of our new programme.

If you'd like to come this way.

Christ, he's charming as well.

Freddie...

How could you do that?

How could you not warn me
what I was being interviewed for?

If you listened...
I thought it was so sweet
you wanted to meet me beforehand.

It's still home affairs.
You're still part of the team,

and it's the team
Clarence believes in.

What? You, me and Gregory Peck?
What is he? Oxford-educated?

Well, at least
you're with your own kind.

Oh, of course.
You find him attractive.

You're pathetic.

It's you who said you were
calcifying in newsreels.

Do you seriously want to die there?
The last job I got you,

you nearly closed us down -
you accused the then Minister
of Trade of accepting bribes.

He had. He was.

Clarence has championed you
since day one.

He was giving you an opportunity

and you have just thrown it
back in his face.

You could be even more brilliant
than you know,
but you just have to ruin it.

A new programme, a new era.

And they want me as producer.

They're humouring you.

They don't want a woman.
A woman is difficult. Hysterical.

And you can never really find one
who will ever stay.

A couple more years, you'll probably
want a baby. Oh, don't speak.

It's what they're thinking.
Anything else is just your vanity
making you believe...

What?

That I can do it?
That I can actually do this?

Watch me.

Oh, Lyon, George wants to bump
the Vice Presidential nominations
for the Duke of Edinburgh...

Not guilty. Mr Wengrow is on
Royal duty. Well, he does look
very smart on his horse.

Copy in by four,
ladies and gentlemen.

Oh, a doctor's been seen
arriving at Downing Street,
apparently Eden's unwell again.

Well, you know where rumour gets us.
And Cairo? I'm covering the
bobsleigh at Bergen and then I'm...

What to you is rumour, to the rest
of the world is foresight, George.

Have you done your copy for
the Elms' engagement yet, Mr Lyon?
Not remotely.

You know I have any number of men
who would happily fill your post,
Mr Lyon.

Is that a threat?

Four o'clock. No Eden. No Cairo.

Don't sulk, spoils your face.

They could have at least offered me
foreign affairs.

Already taken.

You?

Traitor. I want my desk back.

As I recall, I won this desk.

You've got absolutely no poker face.

Mr Lyon, there's a lady to see you.
She said you're old friends.

Nice coat.

Mother hates it.
I wear it to annoy her.

One needs to find tiny acts of
rebellion where one can.

Is this a joke?

That's funny. Most people
think I'm too serious.

But I find it very serious indeed,
the world.

You have grown up.
Oh, don't patronise me.

Why didn't you ever
reply to my letters?

It didn't matter.

I've kept up with what you're
doing. Read your odd articles.

That makes you quite unique.

I even found the short story
you wrote in The Listener,

which, I may add,
was not very good.

Though I suppose the novel
is perhaps still the last domain
of the free mind.

Where they can't tell you
what to think, what to say.

That and art, I suppose.

They? Who are they?
What are you talking about?

They.

They are everywhere.

Here in this building.
Out in the street, in your office.

They even control what you write.

Have you heard of Peter Darrall?

He is...

He WAS one of the leading political
minds this country had.

He was killed last night.

It will be reported
in the evening papers as a robbery.

It wasn't.

There will be no investigation.

Even those who loved him the most
will be told to forget him.

They will weave a web
of deceitful lies.

You think it's ridiculous?

I wish it were.

I want you to find out
why he was murdered.

Go to the police, I'm not
the right person. Yes, you are!

You think you live in a democracy?

You think this country
stands for freedom of speech?

It does not.

No, I'll make my own way out.

They will kill me
if they know I'm talking to you.

A man, stabbed, North London...
Came in this morning.

Did anyone see it? Peter,
his name was Peter something.

Did he forgive you? Who?

Mr Lyon? You really should have
told him, you know.

He's a big boy.

You found one another.
Douglas is on his way.

All right, Charlie? Here you are.
No.

Suspected robbery.
Came in last night.

You been frightening babies?

Plain clothes were in an hour ago.

Alexis Storm will be heading the
foreign desk. She covered the...

Spanish Civil war in Madrid,
broke the news in '40

that the British troops
had arrived in France.

She has an extensive network of
stringers all through Europe,
the Middle East and Africa.

I'm presuming that you've resolved
the home desk.

There are a number of faces
in the frame. Clarence.
We'll have the claret.

I realise that Freddie
wasn't at his best this morning.

You don't need him.
He is passionate.

He's dangerous.

There's that very nice chap
in that Sunday news review.
He might be an idea.

No. Freddie is infuriating
and outspoken,

but he sees the extraordinary
in the ordinary.

I truly believe we need him.

I need him, to make the programme
the best that it can be.

And what is that?

The world that Freddie sees.

A train crash, a labour strike,

Freddie will be somewhere away from
all the other journalists,

talking to the last person
that should matter,

but that is the story that
matters most to ordinary people.

He finds them.

Douglas.

Clarence. I hope you ordered for me.
Please.

How many men?

Five.

MI5?

Box 850, governor says.

SIS?

You know you're someone when MI6
come to pay their respects.

Did they do this?

Someone's looking for something.

There's �15 in here.
Wasn't much of a robbery.

Unless they stole
his last cigarette.

Five minutes. We're done.

Yes. We're done.

McCain's in.

One of Eden's press minions.

Christ, he's coming over.

Leave it to me.

So, this is how Westminster
feeds you, hmm?

Clarence. What a gathering
we have here, and Mr Madden.

Yes.

Er... Oh, Miss Rowley.
You did that lovely piece,
"At Home With Lady Eden".

My friends so enjoyed that.

Is Prime Minister Eden
in good health?

Yes, he is, thank you.
Only I heard he'd been unwell again.

Such maternal instincts, I do think
you're rather wasted in news.

I was hoping to see you today,

Michael was very keen
to have a word.

Pandit Nehru is coming to town.

Barton's been on the phone
banging on at me for weeks
about having an interview.

"No," I said,
"sorry, BBC has first dibs."

Yes. Are we celebrating?

We're launching
a topical news programme.

Oh! Good, Marvellous.
Yes, um, does it have a name yet?

Oh, working on it.

Mr Madden will present it,
Clarence at the helm

and Miss Rowley as the producer.
That must have been a surprise.

What a coup, Miss Rowley!

Douglas, I must introduce
your team to...

It's the mackintosh.

You left it on the table.

Thank you.
How about a brandy to celebrate?

Well, I'd love to, but...

beyond that door women
are not allowed.

What is it about you men?

You always need a tiny corner
where we can't quite reach you.

Then we'll have to take you
elsewhere.

Come on,
I'm good at smuggling contraband.

This is highly illegal.

That's what makes it
so much more enjoyable.

How can you bear that man
talking to you like that?

We'd be foolish to make an enemy
of anyone close to government,
Mr Madden.

Hector.

Hero of Troy.

Father with pretensions
of a scholar.

And mother?

Oh, she died, when I was ten.

I've been out long enough.

Some of us have work to do.

So it's true what they say?

You work twice as hard as any man
and none is half as good as you.

I enjoy the company of men.

Is it true you covered
McCarthy's Lincoln Day speech?

With a tape recorder
that didn't work.

Well, I don't believe
you're prepared to give up
this job for Mr Lyon.

I think you'll do whatever it takes.

Take the afternoon off.

You'll be out
by the end of the week anyway.

I hope you're not going to be
this lax when I'm your producer.

Talk to Mr Lyon.

I intend to. He doesn't listen
to anyone but himself.

This shouldn't be open.
They told me it was going to be
kept locked. They?

I have an appointment
with Mr Darrall.

Oh. Professor Darrall
sadly passed away last night.

Oh, I'm so sorry.

You knew him?

No, but I hoped to.

If you'd like to talk to
the bursar... Was he married?

Professor Darrall?
Er, no, I don't believe so.

Tragic.

Apparently it was a robbery.

You've spoken to the police?

Well, I'm sure it will be
in the afternoon press.

All right, sir?

Um, do you recognise this man?
He works near here.

Yeah, came in last night,
just as I was closing up.

He didn't have no change. I told him
he could pay me tomorrow,

but he insisted I take this
as security.

It seemed a bit much for
a packet of smokes.

The thing is
that he didn't come back.

Orchids.
You should talk to your banker.

They really are an awful cliche.

George.

George.

You know I'm leaving, don't you?

What?

If I'm about to lose two of my best
journalists then I'm entitled
to feel a little sore.

You're a big girl, Bel,
so I'll tell you this for nothing.

I know, because there
are no secrets in this place.

You'll have your strings yanked
like the rest of us.

No, George. You'll see.

There you are, Georgie.

An eminent professor is found
with his throat cut

and it's reported as a robbery.
No inquest. No search for suspects.

Every seam in his suit has been cut.
MI6 visited the mortuary.

Missed your slot.
Programme's been filled.

When does MI6 visit the body
of a robbery victim?

They won't even answer my questions.
Why should they? They're MI6.

What? And we should
never challenge that?

He still had his wallet
and his watch.

Give me another 24 hours and I know
I can follow it up, George.

Though I share your desire
to live in the pages of
an Ian Fleming novel, Mr Lyon,

I prefer to keep my life separate
from a work of fiction.

No! This is happening now,
right now, outside this building,

down on those streets,
and we are doing a disservice
to the public to deny it.

You won't run this,
but you'll run footage of Ruth Elms
smiling at her engagement?

No, the film blew.
The bobsleigh - also gone.

Eddie thinks there's something
wrong with the machine.
For God's sake.

Have you had a single
original thought in your life?

Do you want to die knowing
you were always a yes man?

If you'll excuse me, I have
a news programme to get out.

Do you know more people watch
The Sooty Show than us, George?

You're sacked.

Accepted.

Freddie.

Buzz off, Moneypenny.

It is true, I am asking myself
why I am doing this,

especially as it is you
who should be apologising to me.

But that's what you do
when you believe in someone.
You let me go in there.

I should have told you. I'm sorry.

But home affairs is...
Not presenter. Not good enough.

But most of all not here!
Don't you want to get out?

Who else is going to have you?

You know some nice girl
needs to rescue you. Who?

There's only ever been you.

And you're not even that nice.

All right, you sit here, pulling
apart some stupid cigarette case

when next week you could be...
Before, it was an offer I declined.

Now, it's a pity post,
which I just can't.

Won't. No. And don't ask again,
because, quite frankly,

it's getting very tedious,
your inability to stand
on your own two feet.

But then I suppose
one should expect that from you.

I mean, for all your strong talk,
Moneypenny,

you really are quite hopeless,
aren't you?

You want to be, oh, so independent

but you just can't quite
cut it alone.

Why else do you throw yourself
at such unavailable men?

Bravo.

Yes?

'Yes?'

Nothing. They've reported nothing.

I'm sorry, but...

you were stupid to ask me
to help you

'and I was even more stupid
to think that I could.'

Are you still there?

'Ruthie?'

Never give up, Freddie. Never.

'If it's something you truly
care about, believe in,

'then you have to keep kicking back.

'Let the rest of them give up
if they must,

'but if that is being a grown-up...'

I'd rather stay 21 forever.

Ruthie?

'Sir, could you please
hang up?'

Could you tell me where this call
is being made from, please?

'The Claringdon Hotel, sir.'

Bel and I are leaving
in five minutes.

Stop being such a coward.

When I was in France,
there were these men.

I'd... I'd loosely call them
journalists, but they were
never at the front.

They never stuck their head
above the parapet,

they were terrified of being shot.

Yet they wrote some of the best
battle reportage I've ever read...

filched most of it from us and what
they didn't know, they'd make up.

But you're not one of them. And
you'll never truly know, Freddie,

unless you stick your neck out
and get yourself a bit muddy.

Come on, jump. I dare you.

Coming for a drink? Already drunk.

But I don't smoke.

Save it for later.

I wondered if you could
have a look at this, Mr Lyon?

I'd really appreciate your opinion.

"The tradition of Freedom of
the City of London dates back to

"the 13th century when it attracted
privileges including

"being allowed to go about the city
with a drawn sword."

Did George ask you
to write this? Yes.

It's very, um...

It's very, um... nice and clear.

It's... It's boring.

Yes.

I thought so.

You forgot your lamp.

It's just a piece of tat
I picked up somewhere.

April. 1952. Your birthday.
I bought it from John Lewis.

A yellow desk light. Just what
every girl needs. Isaac! In.

What are you doing?

I thought we'd come along
for the ride.

Douglas has invited us for drinks
at Lime Grove Studios. Goody.

Children. There will be tears.

Thank you.

Shall we leave our things over here?

I think that will be all right.

What? Falling at the first hurdle?

You can do this job
standing on your head, Moneypenny,

and don't let anyone
tell you otherwise.

Not me, not George,
not your stupid bloody banker.

You're the best man for the job,
and you know it.

Is that your idea of an apology?

After I gave you that lamp,
we ate at that terrible Chinese.

It's an angle-poise because
you press your face too close
to the page when you read

and there's never enough light.

You won't wear glasses because
you say your nose is too small

and with glasses you'd look like
a mole...

Which you don't... Wouldn't...

They'd suit you.
You'd look just as...

fairly beautiful as you are.

It's yellow because you said
no-one wants a yellow lamp.

So I thought if I got if for you
in yellow then no-one would
steal it from your desk.

I do give these things quite a lot
of consideration, you see...

The devil is in the detail.

And what you said about my story...

you're right.
George will never run it.

An academic, seemingly eminent,
has his throat slit
in a suburban street.

Who wants to hear that?
It shouldn't stop me.

That's why I am pulling apart
a cigarette case.
I want to hear you say it.

I get first choice of desk.
And I want an office with a window.

And an assistant.

I'll absolutely need an assistant.

And I won't do the farming slots.

And?

May I accept the offer that I so...

Rudely.

So rudely declined?

The Hour!

It'll never run.

Mr Lyon. Mr Madden.

Looking forward to working with you.
At least that makes one of us.

Thank you. Thank you.

Welcome on board, comrade.

Help us out, have a look,
see what you can do!
There's nothing to worry about.

Clarence. I...

Don't say it.

New slate, new day.

You're always watching.
I find it helps.

Otherwise one tends to walk into
walls, doors, that sort of thing.

Yes, she said you were witty.

She's easy to make laugh.

So tell me about yourself, Mr Lyon.

No.

Isaac!

Isaac, the cigarette...

The cigarette that I...

Bingo!

How did you know I like them?

All beautiful women like orchids.

Do they really fall for that line?

Is it bad?

Very bad.

Darling, there you are.

Well, somebody obviously did.

That's your...?

Wife.

Of course.

And your? Father-in-law.

Douglas and he have been friends
for years.

And I thought it was
because you had such a pretty face.

Hello, you look so handsome!

Here he is - the face of tomorrow.

Congratulations, Hector.

Thank you, Wallace.

Ladies and gentleman,
may I have your attention.

We are embarking

on what I hope is to become
a truly exciting journey.

To the dawn of a new era.

The Hour is coming.

The Hour!

Ruth?

Ruthie, it's just me.

Hello?

Ruth!

Ruth!

Ruthie! Ruthie!

Hello.

'Did you fire Mr Lyons?'

Yes, he's someone else's problem now.

'Good evening, Reception.'

Yes, hello. The police,
could you call the police, please?

'Which room, sir?' This is room 214.

'Could you hold, please?'

Are you in discomfort,

or does it just SEEM as if you
have a pickle up your backside?

I want that man banned from the set!

The World Service sent him up.
This is Mr... Kish. Thomas Kish.

She wanted me to help her.

And did you?

I run a news programme.

I wanted to illuminate
the situation.

But you cannot go ahead
with this interview.

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd, MemoryOnSmells