All language subtitles for Mother.Mary.2026.1080p-English

"You are a carcinogen,"

I would say to her.

"You are a tumor,

"whose malignancy has defined

"the ebb and flow
of all I've done,

"of all I've tried to do.

"And yet, in spite of that,

"do you know how much space
you occupy

"in the entirety of me?

"This much.

"You define my life,

"and yet, this is how much
you matter to me.

"If you hadn't shown up
on my door this morning,

"I'd have gladly gone
the rest of my days

"thinking of you regularly,

"but from a distance,

"flung from your orbit.

"But now...

"you are here

"and the bile is rising
and taking the form of words.

"And what these words mean is,

"never have I known

"how closely love
and hate are bound

"than when I think of you
and realize

"you deserve neither."

I hadn't seen her
in over 10 years.

But I could tell she was
coming from a mile away.

More than a mile.

A thousand miles.

I woke up that morning
with a taste in my mouth

I hadn't felt in years.

Is it... Is it a bit too rigid
here at the waist?

How do you feel?
You feel okay?

Yeah. I just... It's...

- I do love how bold it is.
- Yeah.

A whole new you.

I cast it
out of my mind,

but as the day went on,

the taste left my mouth

and traveled
to that space behind my eyes

where it settled
and turned thick.

By the time the late flights
from LAX to Heathrow

were coming in
for their landing,

I felt as if a secret twin
had grown in my skull.

What's wrong?
Are you okay?

It was calling,

shouting,

screaming,

telling me

it was coming.

She was coming.

She was here.

Uh, hi. Excuse me.
Hi. Can I help you?

I'm looking for Sam.

Oh, I'm afraid
Sam isn't available right now.

Are you...

Does Sam know you were coming?

No, no.

Okay, uh...

Well, then could I just
ask you to just wait, uh...

Sam?

Sam?

Um...

- Sam?
- Sorry, you really can't...

Uh...
Sam?

Sam's not
seeing anybody

- right now.
- Sam?

Sam, I'm so sorry.

I didn't see her coming,
she just came in.

Sam, I need a dress.

Just landed?

Yes.
From LA?

Yes, I just came from...

Would you like
something to eat?

- Uh... No, I...
- Hilda,

do we... do we have anything
to eat here?

Um, not really, no.

Okay.
Well, there you go.

Does anyone know you're here?

- No.

I must say,
I wish you had called.

You might have noticed
we're a little underwater

- at the moment.
- Would you have answered?

No,
but somebody would have.

And they could have told you
we're very busy.

Sam has her show coming up.

Oh.

Sorry.

For not calling
or for just showing up?

In general.

Wouldn't you rather get
more specific?

I just never had the chance
to say it before,

- so...
- So the onus is on me then,

to list off your offenses
one by one

and cross-check them

against the totality
of your "I'm sorry"?

Oh, well.

That hardly seems worth it,
does it?

Making me do all the work,

- just like you always do.
- I can go

if you want.

If you want to go, go.

If you want to stay, stay.

If you want to apologize,
you go for it.

But if you stay,

please stop doing

that hovering thing
you always do,

because it makes me
very nervous.

- Sorry.
- You already said that.

- I mean it.
- Say it two more times,

so I believe you.

But not yet.

Catch me by surprise
with your sincerity.

Now, why don't you start
with why you're here?

I really do need a dress.

What, you don't have
a whole coterie of stylists

to take care of that for you?

No, I do. But it's not...

working out.

And this performance,
when is it?

The 31st.

- That's on Sunday?
- Yes.

And today is?

Thursday.

Well, that's impossible.

What's wrong
with the dress you have?

I'm assuming you have one.

It's just all wrong.

May I see it?

- So that's it?
-Yes.

It's not a dress at all.

Who made it?

Saracen & Pare.

Hmm.

Tell me three things
that are wrong with it.

It doesn't feel like me.

Okay. It doesn't
feel like you. That's one.

That's it.

That's it?

- Yes.
- So you,

who have been dressed
by everyone

and worn everything,

who once paraded down
a red... ...carpet

wearing nothing
but freshly poured honey,

you have somehow found

the one outfit
in all of creation

that doesn't feel like you?

Yes.

And you've come
crawling back to me

because you know
I can do better?

- Yes.
- Because I, above all others,

know you?

Because I didn't know
where else to go.

Truly?

Yes.

Will you let me do
whatever I like?

Yes. But...

Will you do exactly as I say?

Yes, within...

And will you wear what I make?

Yes.

And can you stop time?

Just did.

This is really
going to take some doing,

if we're gonna pull this off.

Just tell me
what I can do.

You can just
keep talking.

That's how this works.

You tell me something
like how you're feeling,

and I'll take those feelings
and turn them into a dress.

The transubstantiation
of feeling.

That's what we're doing here.

Here we are.

Now, as you can see,

I've entered
my Ms. Havisham period

very much ahead of schedule.

This is where I come to cry
my eyes out in the dark.

Stand here, please.

Now, uh...

I haven't had a new idea
in ages.

Not a good one, at least.

So if we're to do this,

I'm just gonna
have to fasten things to you

until inspiration strikes.

There we go.

Uh, can I take
your sweater?

Yes.

- Thank you.
- Mmm-hmm.

So...

So tell me more
about this dress we're making.

What do you see in your head?

Just...

me.

Just you?

But...

But all of me.

I was thinking more like,
"What color?"

- Uh...
- Hold still.

Whatever you like.

But no red.

Do you have to be able
to move?

- Yes.
- Dance?

- Yes.
- Any stunts or harnesses?

No.

Backup dancers?

- Nine.
- I'm not making

- anything for them.
- I know.

There's simply
not enough time.

I know. You don't have to.
Just me.

Arms up.

What song are you singing?

Spooky Action.

Hmm. I don't remember
that one.

- 'Cause it's new.
- Oh.

That explains it then.

Did you write it?

Yes.

I'll play it for you
if you want.

Yes, maybe later.

It's good.

I am sure it is.

It might be
the best song ever written

- in the history of songs.
-Mmm.

Lift your shirt up
for me, please.

You've gotten so tiny.

The tiniest intruder.

You're exactly the same.

Oh, no, I'm not.

You'll see.

You'll see how I've changed.

What the years
have made of me.

Okay. That's good for now.
Thank you, Hilda.

- Hilda.
- Yes?

Hilda, would you run back
to the main house

- and grab a few things for me?
- Mmm-hmm.

What does this matter?

- You know what I need?
- Of course.

Uh, what about you?
Can we get you anything?

- I'm fine. Thank you.
-Okay. Good.

Okay.
I'll be right back.

She's not gonna tell anyone...

No. Don't worry.

There are no spies
in our midst.

I just need her
to bring me some things.

Some old bric-a-brac,
a few bolts of fabric,

and a good pair of scissors

in case one of us has
the sudden desire to...

Okay.

How's your mum?

She died.

I'm sorry.

How are you?

Same.

You've been laying low.

Am I right that this will be
your first outing

- since...
- Since?

Since whatever happened
happened.

What do you think happened?

Well, I... I saw that video.

Everyone saw that video.

Is there more to it than that?

Yes.

And when it first happened,
people kept asking me,

what do I know,

had I heard anything,
"Did she trip, did she jump?"

What'd you say?

People... said
you had a breakdown.

I said, "No. She probably
just needed a break."

Yeah. That was part of it.

What are the other parts?

I don't want to tell you.

Why?

Because you'd laugh.

- No, I wouldn't.
- Yes, you would.

You're laughing right now.

I'm just...

I'm just picturing
the worst possible thing

that could have made you do
what you did.

- What is it?
- It's not worth mentioning,

but it's very funny.

Well, that's why
I'm not gonna tell you.

Except you will.

Because you never would have

brought it up
in the first place

if you didn't want to.

No, you want to tell me.

You want me to know so badly,
you can hardly stand it.

But it's okay. I can wait.

Mmm. Mmm.

No.

No.

Mmm.

No.

Right. No red.

No red.

What about your hair,
what's going on there?

We should...

We should talk
about your halo.

No halo.

At all?

I want to get back
to the basics.

I mean, it doesn't get
much more basic than that.

It's sort of your thing.

It was never meant
to be my thing.

It was your thing.

That's... that's not
how I recall it.

But whatever the case,

you've done
pretty well with it.

- We'll do well without it.
- Will anyone recognize you

without it?

I don't know if anyone
actually truly comprehends

- the shape of your...
- They hurt.

Well, that's because whoever's
making them for you now

keeps trying to up the ante.

They're not doing it right.

I could make you a new one

- in two seconds flat...
- No.

- Right. But, don't you...
- I said...

Yes, I know what you said.

You don't want to wear one,

but what if I want you
to wear one?

What are we doing here?

Are we reinventing you?

No.

No, I...

Just...

I... I want to be...

- Revelatory.
- No. I just, like... I want...

Profundity.

Mmm, more, um...

- Authenticity.
- No. It's like...

Clarity.

- Yes.
- Clarity.

- So, reducing?
- Yes.

- Peeling away everything...
- Yes. Yes.

- ...that's accumulated.
- Yes.

- Old skin.
- Yes.

- Barnacles.
- Yes

Dead hair.

Yes.

All the old yous.

I want to be sharp.

You want me
to make you into a knife?

I want to have a point.

Got it.

If this were
the first performance

I ever gave,
how would you dress me?

I did dress you
for your first performance.

If it were
my last performance?

Is that what this is?

- Maybe.
- 'Cause I could make you

a funeral gown,

if that's what
you really wanted.

I could build you a pyre

the likes of which
the world has never seen

if that's the way
you see things going.

I sort of do.

We are still speaking in...

abstractions, aren't we?

I think so.

Are you depressed?

- No. No.
- Is this a cry for help?

So you're not planning
on self-immolating

on my doorstep?

- No.
- Good.

But if I did, it would be
kind of a great way to go.

No, not for me. I'd be the one
to have to clean you up.

No peeking.

If it's really that bad,

just quit.

I can't quit.

Yeah, you can.

People say
quitting is for cowards,

but it's actually
one of the bravest things

- anyone can do.
- No.

I can't quit. I don't know
how to do anything else.

I just wish
I was happy doing it.

Oh, yes, I remember.

Used to be so happy
singing sad songs. Well...

things are never gonna
be like that ever again.

Nevertheless...
you will go on.

This won't be
your last performance ever

but it will be your best.

You will be radiant,

and transcendent.

And when you open your mouth
and sing about your sadness,

it will be everyone's sadness,

and it will be writ
as large as the goddamn sky

because that's
what you give people.

It's what
you can do for people

and since they pay you for it,

it's more or less your job,
so quit...

or do a good job.

See?

This is what you do.

This is why you have
nothing to worry about.

You give people the gift
of giving a shit about you.

I am humbled
by your munificence.

Uh...

Is someone playing before you?

Yes.

Who?

Miel Contrera.

What's she sing?

- Paper Moon.
- Oh, right. Yeah, I like her.

Everyone likes her.

You sound bitter.

No, I don't.

She's my friend.

- Is she?
- Yes.

- We sang together at the...
- Yeah.

But she was just a child then.

Now I see her
everywhere I look.

Her tits are spilling out
over Soho in Givenchy.

She's successful

and I'm proud of her.

And I'm very happy
to be in her company.

Good.

But?

You're going to lay waste
to her, aren't you?

- What?
- Oh.

Poor girl doesn't know
what she's in for.

Why would you even say that?

Because it's true.

No, it's not.

Oh,
it's already happened.

You don't even have to try.

This is what you do.
You're always picking

- and picking and scratching...
- It's part of my job.

I need to see
what I'm meant to cover.

You mean you need to see
what you want to find.

And if you don't find it,
you put it there

because it suits you
and what you want to make,

- which is why...
- Which is why I'm here

- and you're there.
- No.

I'm here because I want
what you want,

but I want you to want it
for the right reasons.

Which are?

I want you
to have an open heart.

-Mmm-hmm. Mmm.
- And no fear.

And what am I afraid of?

Of this.

- Me.
- Yeah.

Hey,
you're fucking terrifying.

This is what you do.

This is what you do when
you don't know what to do.

This is what
you've always done,

which is why I'm trying
to lay it all out for you.

But I asked you
to lay it out for me

so that I'd know what to do.

- So, here it is.
- Thank you.

Miel Contrera
will sing before me.

She will sing Paper Moon,
and it'll be beautiful.

And then,

at five minutes to midnight,
the lights will go down.

And I...

Mmm-hmm.

I'll do whatever it is
that I'm gonna do.

Sing your new song?

Yes.

Maybe not.

- No, I'm gonna sing it.
- Oh, good.

Because you sounded
uncertain there for a moment.

No, it's just...

It's not good enough yet?

You want to hear it?

The... the song?

- Yes.
- No.

No. No music.

Not right now.

- Why?
- Because if I did,

I'd make a dress for the song.

And you want me to make
a dress for you, don't you?

So, better not to hear it.

You might like it.

Mmm, I'm in an ascetic phase
right now.

I'm trying not liking things.

Why is it called
Spooky Action anyway?

Is it about particle physics?

Large Hadron Colliders?

No. It's more like...

connections we can't explain.

And what led you to write it?

I had a connection
and I couldn't explain it.

To a person?

Maybe.

Are you being coy?

No.

And you really can
dance to it?

- Yes.
- Hmm.

Show me.

- The dance?
- Yeah.

Could you?

Honestly, it'll be good for me
to see how you move

to make sure
I'm accommodating.

Okay.

I'm sure you're supposed to be
drilling it anyway.

Do you have a speaker
or anything I can plug into?

Yeah.

But do it without the song.

Why?

Because I told you,
I don't want to hear it.

- But it's all set to the...
- I'm sure you've got it down.

Why won't you just let me
play it for you?

'Cause I don't want
to break my streak.

Of what?

Of not listening
to your music.

Ooh. Okay.

- Well, I think that's...
- I'm not done yet.

How on earth
are you gonna sing

while you do all that?

Practice.

You know,

if you're going for...

burn-it-all-down
last-will-and-testaments,

what we should do is

we should make you
a beautiful dress

that is simple and elegant,

and whatever else
it needs to be,

but attached to it...

is a train.

You know how I love...

a good train,
and this one is, say,

um, just a quarter-mile long.

And maybe
most people don't notice,

but a keen eye will detect

that at a certain point,
the fabric of the gown fades

from one thing

into something else.

Something more familiar.

It's so seamless
you don't even see it.

But once you do,

you realize

the entire gown is made up
of every dress

you've ever

worn.

The story
of how you got to right here,

right now,

in this exact moment,

stepping out on stage,

Mother Mary...
...in the new millennium.

You walk...

...down the...
Where is the show?

- At the Palladium.
- That's perfect. So...

Miel Contrera
finishes singing,

and it's beautiful
and it's well-liked,

but now, here you come,

marching down that aisle,

marching
from far beyond the aisle,

from outside the theater,

coming down the street,

dragging your whole history
behind you.

The doors swing open,

and you enter the theater

and you walk up
the steps to the stage,

and when you get to the top...

What's this?

Something catches.

The train is pulled tight.

It's caught
on all of your history.

And as you take
your final step

and complete your ascension,

the entire gown,

we'll set it
so it just shears away,

and there you are.

You are standing naked
under the lights,

free of everything
you've been carrying,

of everything that's been
weighing you down.

And, of course,
the plugs will get pulled

and the broadcast would cut
but that's on them,

it's not on you.

Mmm-mmm.

You're doing
what you were born to do.

You open your mouth

and you dance your dance.

You sing your song.

Or maybe...

you don't even do that.

Maybe you don't need to.

You don't need
the song at all,

because this...

is all about...

you.

But...

isn't that kind of...

- obvious?
- No.

Mmm. This is...

clarity.

That was a very specific
moment in time,

wasn't it?

Why do we say that?

Every moment in time
is specific.

Yeah, but it's hard to tell
one from the next. Mmm?

Every now and then, though,

something happens.

And it makes us
prick up our ears

and say,
"That was a moment."

And what I think
we're really saying...

...is for that moment,

we were...

together.

Did you really mean
what you said?

About what?

About not listening
to my music.

Yes.

Is it a surprise?

I don't exactly see you
at the runway.

Did I really hurt
your feelings so badly?

Yeah.

And that's fine.

That's what feelings are for.

I just wish you would have
told me yourself.

Told you what?

That, um...

That Mother Mary no longer
needed me.

- I did need you.
- No, you...

- And I did tell you.
- You told me

by not telling me.

You told me by saying nothing

and letting everyone
who suddenly had your ear

do all the talking.

I told you I needed a change.

Yes, but you didn't tell me
you'd already made it.

By the time
I figured that out,

you'd already closed the door.

The door was always open.

No.

No, it wasn't.

No, it wasn't. It was shut

and locked.

And you were
a million miles away.

And there I was...

who knew you and...

who loved you,

trying to pick up the pieces.

Except there weren't
even any pieces

'cause everything I had was...

wrapped up in you.

You never know
how little you matter

until you realize

that everything you've done

has been in the service

of someone
the whole world loves

just as much as you.

Oh, yeah. And tell yourself
you're doing good work.

Tell yourself
what you're doing counts

'cause you're the one
that's doing it,

but really, step by step,

stitch by stitch,

you're obliterating yourself.

I wanted you

to look like Joan of Arc.

When I heard you sing,

that's what I saw.

That's what I set out
to design for you.

And to that,

I added bits and pieces

of me.

Silly things,

like my holy communion
when I was seven.

Feeling like a queen

even though I'd spilled wine

all down
my beautiful white dress.

All of that

is in there.

That's my story.

And no,

I don't expect you to tell it.

But I... would have expected
a little bit credit.

- I didn't mean to cut you out.
- But you did.

Yes.

I did.

- But...
- What?

But I'm the one
who wore that dress,

who wore all the dresses.

I let you make

- something of me.
- No. No.

- We did that together.
- And...

And I liked it.

I liked it.

I liked how you saw me.

I liked how it felt...

when you dressed me.

But you were making
your own Mother Mary,

and she...

she was beautiful.

But I'm the one
who had to go out

in front of all those people

and sing my songs

and feel them, so, yes...

...I wanted to change for her.

But I was never done with us.

You closed that door.

No, there was never a door
at all until you opened it.

The door doesn't exist.

These metaphors
are exhausting.

You went somewhere...

- I couldn't follow.
- Yes, but you had all this.

Yeah, I had to build this
so I had something.

But that's good, isn't it?

Yeah.

Except that it took me
hating you to do it.

Uh-uh.

You can't really hate me.

Oh, yes, I can.

It's very easy
to flip that switch.

Is that what we're doing here?

You're making me a hate-dress?

Maybe.

Maybe.

So what do we have to do
to flip that switch back?

I don't know. Maybe we can't,
maybe it's a one-time thing.

No.

You already have.

You wouldn't let me
in the door otherwise.

The real door
or the metaphorical one?

- Your front door.
- Oh.

Well... I didn't let you in.

Hilda did.

And why do I have to be
the one to open the door

or flip a switch or whatever?

Can't you do it?

Can't you do the work?

Make me love you again.

Can you let me try?

Can you stop putting up walls?

Can you let me play
this fucking song?

Oh, you can't do
anything else?

I don't have anything else.

What else is there?

I can... send you flowers,

I can write you a note,
or I can buy you a house,

or I can sing you a song.
That's it.

That's all I got.

Well, I could do
with a new house.

This one's falling apart.

Pick one out
and send me the listing.

Oh, you know, I think
I'll pay for it myself.

Thank you very much.

You see, the problem is,

and it's not a problem,

but the problem is...

I am very stubborn.

Clearly.

And I don't...

I'm no good
at changing on the spot.

I'm not...

like you.

I can't be what other people
want me to be

at the drop of a hat.

Good.

Because it wears you down.

And I've been getting on
quite well without you.

If I hear you on the radio,
I change the channel.

If I see you on the telly,
I just turn it off.

All or nothing.

All or nothing.

Everyone else needs you.

I don't.

Would you like to know
what happened

the last time
I heard you sing?

Sure.

It's gonna sound
like another metaphor,

even though it's not.

Okay.

Do you remember
when you played in Hyde Park

at the beginning
of your Ecstatic Tour?

- Yeah.
- I was there.

Front row.

I wondered
if you'd spot me,

but... you never did.

Or if you did,
you didn't let on.

And now I'm letting on now

you were amazing.

The whole crowd was crying.

You were crying.

And I was crying,

but for a different reason.

Because I was seeing
something beautiful

that I had once been a part of

and... never would be again.

You were radiant.

I was miserable.

And by and by,

that misery resolved
into a very sharp pain

in my upper mandible.

My jaws were clenched so tight

that my top left wisdom tooth
cracked wide open,

and the pain that it gave me

was pure

and sharp.

And I could think of no way
to describe it other than you.

Oh, it was you.

And I had to cut you out.

So I fled.

Before the encore.

Before you played Holy Spirit,

the one song I thought
might make me feel better.

Mary! Mary!

I ran home,

grabbed some pliers,

and...

See?

All gone.

Jesus!

I'm only exaggerating.

I went to the dentist.

Yeah, they put me under,

and when I woke up
in the chair,

my tooth was gone.

And the anesthesia
was wearing off,

and I felt very sad.

Like I was...

in the midst of saying goodbye
to something dear.

You know, when I was little,

and we'd move,

and I'd feel myself
being pulled away from a house

I'd made time to love.

Hmm.

Now...

this is where it gets

strange.

That night,

I had a visitor.

I woke up very suddenly

to find that my gums
were bleeding again.

There was blood all over.

There was a little trail
of it, in fact,

streaked across the duvet.

It was like something had
crawled out of my mouth,

across the bedspread,

down onto the floor.

Now...

I've always been
open to ghosts.

If any house was haunted,
you'd think it'd be this one,

but I haven't seen one before.

Until now.

And I can say
without a doubt,

there was a ghost
at the foot of my bed.

What did it look like?

I couldn't say.

She was like
six different things at once.

"She"?

Yes. She was a she.

I think.

Or maybe the idea of a "she."

And she was red.

Not red like a color.

More like...

red like a feeling.

Oh, and she was
the most beautiful thing.

I couldn't let her stay.

So I opened the door,

and I watched her go,

down the hallway,

out the house,

into the woods,

a smudge of red in the dark.

Oh, and with her goes
the pain in my mouth,

the knot in my stomach,

and the hole in my heart.

And after that I stopped
listening to your music.

I stopped thinking about you.

I stopped dreaming about you.

And everything's been better
ever since.

Where did she go?

Oh.

Oh, I don't know.

Where do ghosts go

when you don't
need 'em anymore?

That's where.

But are you saying that
this is just another metaphor?

Did you really see something?

Look, I'm not saying
that I saw the spirit

of some
recently deceased individual

or that my house
is haunted by an ancestor.

If someone else...

If Hilda, say, had been there,
would she have seen it?

Probably not.

But I did.

Whatever neurons
in my head differentiate

between imagination
and perception

tell me that I did.

And if you were
to ask me why I did,

I would say
because I needed to.

Perhaps I manifested her.

Perhaps she was
my subconscious,

sending me a message

in the only way
it knew I would listen.

Perhaps she was a ghost.

Yeah.

But she was my ghost.

Except...

I think I saw her too.

You saw what?

Your ghost.

- I saw her.
- I was being serious.

So am I.

So what?

You can't even let me
have my own ghost story?

No. No, it is yours.

It is, but I think
I might be a part of it.

You're making me feel

- very foolish.
- I promise I don't mean to.

I saw what you saw.

I saw a ghost or a spirit
and she was red.

And when was this?

- The first time was...
- Ooh. "The first time"?

The first time was in Dublin.

96th stop of the tour.

I was so worn out, but...

it was my birthday.

And I wanted to do
something special.

I love you, Dublin!

Goodnight!

- Thank you.
-Here, here, here.

I've got it. I've got it.
I've got it.

Careful.

How does this keep happening?

Oh, shit. Um,

- there's blood on your...
- Huh?

-Hey, MM!
- Blood...

- Oh, um, yeah.
-Look who I found!

Ooh.

Oh, my gosh!

- Are you...
- Hi.

- Hi! Hi, hi, hi!
- I'm Imogen. Hi.

Happy birthday.

Thank you. Thank you. Yes.

- So nice to meet you.
- So nice to meet you.

Yes. Oh, my gosh.
We are so excited for tonight.

- Me too.
- Everyone says

you are very special.

- Well, that sounds very kind.
- Okay.

She was sat
in the regular seat,

that's why PJ couldn't
find her.

- Ah.
-How long did you say

- you waited in line?
-Oh?

Only two hours.
But it's fine. I had fun.

- I met people.
- I'm so sorry.

Yeah. Okay.

- I like meeting people.
- Thank you.

Oh, well, now you're here
and you're with us.

Did you like the show?

- Oh, it was incredible.
-Mmm.

It was like,
like a religious experience

or like going to church,

- but in a good way.
- Yeah.

And at the same time,
all I could think is

when you have
that many people...

- Yeah.
- How many people were there?

Uh, 18,210.

There were even more
in New York.

And they're all there,

all at once,
putting out all that energy,

all of those ups and downs,

and all of it is
laser-focused right at you.

Mmm. It's intense.

How do you handle that?

You don't.

Uh, I mean, you do.

But you just...

You sort of, um,

take it

and...

Yes, but...

what does it do to you?

It's like the same, same thing

over and over again
in circles.

Sounds like shit.

Don't ask
why he chose me, but he did.

But you have seen
ghosts here before, right?

Ah, yes.

There are spirits here

and I've met most of them.

But the walls here
are very thin.

You never know
who might come knocking.

Now, can somebody
get the lights?

Do ghosts really need the dark

or is it just
to make it spookier?

Oh, it's not for them.

They're already here.

We're the ones
that are opening up to them.

What does that mean?

What does that mean?

It means

- reveal yourselves.
- Reveal yourselves.

-We mean you no harm.
- We mean you no harm.

Can I say it too?

Yeah, sure.

How does it go again?

No. No.

Sorry, sorry. That was me.

- Fuck you.
- Oh, my God.

I slipped. I slipped.
I'm sorry.

I hate this.

I hate everything about this,
Emily. Really?

Shh.

Wait, wait, wait.

What is it?

Is someone here?

Do you feel it?

I feel nothing.

What are we supposed to feel?

She's not from here.

"She"?

She's from somewhere...

far away.

But she's very nearly here.

Who are we talking about now?

Who is she?

Do you know?

No.

No.

- No.
- No.

Okay, we should...
Maybe this is just...

- It's not real.
- She's just fucking with us.

No, she isn't.

Imogen...

What do you want
to tell us?

Do you have a message? Or...

What do you want us to know?

We're here for you.

I'm here for you.

I've been...

looking...

for you,

my dearest one.

I've come so far.

I've traveled

across land and sea.

- My feet are bleeding.
-...bleeding.

My bones...

-Ache.
- ...ache.

My head...

My head is heavy.

- See...
-See...

in my hair...

- a braid made of woe.
-A braid made of woe.

See all your sorrows

- hang over my shoulders.
-Hang over my shoulders.

- And all of their kin...
- And all of their kin...

- ...bite at my heels.
- ...bite at my heels.

But soon...

soon my journey
will see me through.

And I will rest

on a bed spun of gold.

For you...

are finally at hand.

Listen.

Do you hear me?

Do you...

feel me?

Now...

you must open the door

and let my love...

in.

She stabbed you.

No.

She opened a door.

Everything was a blur
after that.

They bandaged me up.

Security did their rounds,

and eventually everyone else
went to bed.

I wanted to go to sleep too.

I wanted to.

I wanted to so badly.

But I couldn't.

Those words kept running
through my mind.

She was very nearly here.

She was very nearly here.

She was very nearly here.

She was very nearly here.

And then she was...

So I run.

Someone asks me
if I want to stop,

but I say no.

Hmm?

I keep going.

I sing my songs.

This is what I do.
This is what I do.

This is what I do.

This is what I do.
This is what I do.

This is what I do.
This is what I do. This is...

I've watched
the videos of that night

a hundred times.

Thousands of cameras
all see the same thing.

I know she wasn't
really there.

But I also know what I saw.

And I think somehow...

all those things are true.

Where is she now?

And I can't sleep.

I can't heal.

I'm on...

who knows how many pills.

And every minute

of every day...

I feel her...

inside me.

She's always there, like...

a cloud or...

a stone.

And I don't know.
I think, like...

maybe I'm supposed
to keep her there.

Like...

Like, that's
what I have to do.

That's my job now.

But I don't know
how much longer I can do it.

Do you believe me?

How far is it
from London to Dublin?

Five, six hundred kilometers?

How long would it take
to walk that far...

for a person?

You'd have to cross the sea.

I suppose the sea would
slow you down.

And how long was it

from the time you played
in Hyde Park

until your 97th show?

Four years?

Hmm?

I can't read
a single one of these.

Mmm-mmm.
None of them seem right.

Mmm.

Let's double-check.

How long have
we known each other?

Twenty-four...

Twenty-five years?

That number seems so small...

when you say it.

So...

let's say there is something
inside of you.

It came from somewhere

and traveled across oceans
to find you.

And maybe...

that somewhere...

was me.

But if that's true,

it also stands to reason...

that all these...

coming and goings...

are just how our little minds

process the ebb and flow

of something
that's always been there.

Maybe...

we came...

to it.

And you think...

you need to hold it close...

and keep it inside.

But not me.

I want her out.

So let's stop.

Let's cast her out.

How?

It can't be that hard.

We've seen enough films.

No. I don't like this.

There is nothing
to be scared of.

We'll stop
if it gets dangerous.

I just...

I just wanna...

I just wanna work on my dress.

That's what I came here for.

This is working on the dress.

Because you want
the dress to look like you,

and this is a part
of who you are right now.

This spirit,

this woman in red,

she's who you wrote
your song about, isn't she?

- Yes.
- So...

let's make the dress
about her, too.

Let's see...

what she wants to tell us.

Now, do we need three of us?
Should I call Hilda?

- No.
- No, no, you're right.

The two of us must be
the ones to do it.

I don't want to.

You said I need
to open my heart.

So here I am,

opening it

as far as I can.

And I say to you, my friend...

...we are going to do this.

What's all that?

Offerings, totems.

Things to focus our energy.

There is nothing magical
about any one object

other than what we bring
to it.

In fact,
there is no true meaning

to any object at all
without our prescription.

So...

these shears are not shears.

They're a key

to open whatever doors
we may come to.

And this, this is a chain

to bind us
to whomever we meet.

And this...

this is a sword

for protection.

Hmm.

And this...

is the oil...

with which...

we will anoint ourselves...

as we await...

the day...

of our Pentecost.

Why are you doing this?

I'm not doing anything.

We are doing this.

Because if we don't,

we'll regret it forever.

When are you and I ever gonna
be in the same room again

after all this is done?

You'll take your dress

and you'll go away,

and I'll be here,

haunting my own house,

all alone.

We have to do this now
while we can.

Now...

...what was that spell
you chanted?

Oh,
a rose is a rose is a rose.

Just give me your hands.

Yes.

Close your eyes

and breathe with me.

And out.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Spirit...

if you're here,

give us something.

Give us a sign.

Spirit...

if you are with us...

know you are welcome...

and well-loved.

Spirit...

if you are here,

know that you have a home,
but it is not within us.

We cannot be your respite.

Our house is full,

so let my voice be your light

as you make your way
towards the door.

Listen, as I name
the rungs of your ladder.

Come On & On.

Mother Mary.

Magnificat.

Abashed The Devil.

Poor Thing.

Cut Me Out.

Exhalation.

The Greatest Hits
from the years of Our Lord

2003 to 2015.

The Third Mary.

Past that...

is the door.

And it is open.

And the world outside...

is brighter...

and more beautiful than ever.

So come out.

Out.

Out.

Out.

Out.

Sam.

Out.

Sam.

Out.

Sam, she can't hear you.

She can. Just listen.

- Out. This is going to work.
- Sam.

- Out.
- Sam.

Clear your mind.

- She's coming.
- Sam.

- She's coming.
- You forgot something.

What?

She needs a way out.

Now what?

I don't know.

Maybe she needs more.

A key...

to open the door.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Hey.

Get some rest, huh?

Get a nice bit of sleep

and when you wake up,

I might just have something
to show you.

You will.

And it'll be perfect.

What's the time?

Almost 12:00.

Tell me what's happening.

Well...

right about now,

Miel Contrera is probably
finishing Paper Moon.

She's waving goodnight
to the audience.

- What time is it?
-Darkness is falling.

All right, it's six minutes
to midnight, everyone.

But then there's a light.

Not on the stage, but...

from the back of the theater.

Everyone turns to look.

There she is.

Mother Mary.

Shining bright.

She's coming down the aisle.

She's coming from far beyond
the aisle.

From across the ocean.

From another world.

Now she's taking the stage.

The light's in her eyes,
it's too bright.

She looks
to the audience and...

she says,

"I've missed you all so much.
It's so good to be back."

But what she really wants
to say is...

What she really means
to say is...

What she's saying is...

"This song isn't for you.

"It's for you."

- Hey, what the fuck?
- Wait, wait, wait, wait.

What is she doing?

And then she closes her eyes,

at five minutes to midnight.

She opens her mouth.

- She's gonna sing the song.
- She's gonna sing her song.

She's gonna sing her song.

And she sings your song.

And it's the greatest song
in the history of songs.

Hey, Sam?

Yes?

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.