All language subtitles for The.Dresser.HDTV.XViD-EVO

'German aircraft carried out
a number of attacks

'on Great Britain last night.

'The raids,
which lasted for several hours,

'were scattered over many
parts of the country.

'And the enemy aircraft has been...

'..reported over towns on
the south coast,

'the west of England, the North
Midlands and the north-west,

'as well as over the London area.'

He does nothing but cry.
Are they keeping him in?

They wouldn't let me stay.

The doctor said
I seemed to make matters worse.

I should never have taken him
to the hospital.

I don't know what came over me.

I should have brought him
back here where he belongs.

Why is his coat on the floor?
And his hat?

Drying out. They're wet through.

Well, how did he come to
be in such a state, Norman?

When you telephoned, I thought

at first that he'd been hurt
in the air raid. Oh, no.

Or had an accident.
Oh, no, not an accident.

No, I know because they said there
was no sign of physical injury.

Your Ladyship. He's in a state
of collapse. Yes, I know.

Well, how did he get like that?

Your Ladyship... What happened to
him? Sit down. Please, sit down.

We must remain calm.

The doctor said it must have been
coming on for weeks.

Oh, if not longer.
Well, I didn't see him this morning.

He left the digs before I woke.
Where was he all day?

Where did you find him? Well, what
happened was this, Your Ladyship.

After the last "all clear" sounded,
I went into Market Square

just as dusk was coming on.

Peculiar light, ever so yellowish.

I'd hoped to find a packet or two
of Brown & Polson's cornflour,

since our supplies are rather low.

So I was asking at this stall
and that's when I heard his voice.

Whose voice?

Sir's, of course.

He was taking off his overcoat -
in this weather!

"God help the man who stops me,"
he shouted, and then

he threw the coat to the ground just
like King Lear in the storm scene.

Look at it. I don't know
that I'll ever get it clean.

And he was so proud of it,
do you remember...?

Oh, no, perhaps it
was before your time.

The first Canadian tour, Toronto.

What happened after
he took off his coat?

Started on the hat!

Dunn's, Piccadilly, only a year ago,
down on the coat it went and

he jumped on it, he stamped on his
hat, viciously stamped on his hat.

Well, you can see.

Then he lifted his arms in the air
like he does to convey

sterility into Goneril's womb, "How
much further do you want me to go?"

His fingers were all of a fidget,
undoing his jacket,

loosening his collar and tie,
tearing at the buttons of his shirt.

Were there many people about?

A small crowd.
That's why I ran to him.

I didn't want him to stand there
looking ridiculous

with people all around, sniggering.

Did he see you?
Did he know who you were?

I didn't wait to find out.

I just took his hand and I said,

"Good evening, Sir, shouldn't
we be getting to the theatre?"

in my best nanny voice, the one
I use when he's being wayward.

He paid no attention.
He was shivering.

You shouldn't have let the public
see him like that.

It's easy to be wise after
the event, if you don't mind

my saying so, Your Ladyship,
but I tried to spirit him away,

not easy with a man
of his proportions.

Only, just then...

...a woman approached,

quite old, wearing bombazine
under a tweed coat

but perfectly respectable.

She'd picked up his clothes
and wanted to help him dress.

And Sir said to the lady,

"Thank you, my dear,
but Norman usually helps me.

"I'd be lost without Norman,"
and I thought,

"Well, this is your cue, ducky,"

so I said,
"I'm Norman, I'm his dresser."

And the woman, she had her hair in
curlers, she took his hand,

she kissed it, and she said,

"You was lovely in
The Corsican Brothers."

He looked at her for a long time,
then he smiled sweetly,

you know the way he does
when he's wanting to charm?

"Thank you, my dear,
but you must excuse me.

"I have to make an exit,"
and he ran off.

He said, "I have to make an exit"?

Well, of course, I followed him,
fearing the worst.

I didn't know he could run so fast.

I just followed this trail of
discarded clothing, the jacket,

the waistcoat, and I thought,

"We can't have Sir doing a
striptease round town."

But then I found him.
Leaning up against a lamppost.

Weeping. Where?

Outside the Kardomah.

Without a word,
hardly knowing what I was doing,

I led him to the hospital.

The sister didn't recognise him,

although later she said she'd
seen him last night as Othello.

A doctor was summoned,
short, bald, bespectacled,

and I was excluded
by the drawing of screens.

And then you telephoned me.
No, I waited.

I lurked, as Edgar says,
and I heard the doctor whisper,

"This man is exhausted.
This man is in a state of collapse."

And that's how it happened.

He did nothing but cry.

Yes, you said.

I left him lying on top of the bed,
still in his clothes, crying,

no, weeping, as though he'd lost
control, had no choice,

wept and wept, floodgates.

What are we to do?

In an hour there will be
an audience in this theatre

hoping to see him as King Lear.

What AM I to do?

Well, don't upset
yourself, for a start.

Well, I've never had to make this
sort of decision before.

Any sort of decision before.

As soon as I came out
of the hospital I telephoned Madge

and asked her to meet me
here as soon as possible.

She'll know what to do.
Oh, yes, Madge'll know what to do.

She won't upset herself,
that's for certain.

No, Madge will be ever so sensible.

I suppose stage managers have to be.

I had a friend once,

had been a vicar before falling from
the pulpit and landing on the stage.

Ever so good as an ugly sister.
To the manner born.

His wife didn't upset easily.

Just as well, I suppose,
all things considered.

Madge reminds me of her.
Cold, businesslike, boring.

The doctor took me into a little
room littered with enamel dishes

full of blood-stained bandages.

The smell made me faint.

He asked me
about his behaviour in recent days.

Had I noticed anything untoward?

And what did you say?
If you don't mind my asking.

I lied.

I said he'd been perfectly normal.

I don't want to appear neglectful.

I should have been more vigilant.

Only last night I woke...

Is that Madge? No, it's Irene.

You were saying?
Last night you woke.

He was looking at me. He was naked.

It was bitter cold,
he was shivering.

He said, "Thank you for watching
over me but don't worry.

"Just go on looking after me.

"I have the feeling
I may do something violent."

Talk about untoward.

I'm glad you didn't
tell the doctors that,

they'd have locked him up for good.

Last night, after Othello,
he asked me,

"What do we play tomorrow, Norman?"

I told him King Lear and he said,

"Then I shall wake with
the storm clouds over my head."

I should have made him rest.

The doctor said he'd come to the end
of his rope and found it frayed.

So would anyone that had to
put up with

what he's had to put up with.

You should've told
the doctor about the troubles.

No. Civilians never understand.

I could kick myself for taking him
to the hospital.

It was the right thing to do.

I hope so. Doctors.

Can you imagine trying to explain to
a doctor what Sir's been through?

"Well, you see, doctor,
he's been trying to recruit actors

"for his Shakespeare company and
all the able-bodied and best ones

"are in uniform, and the theatres
are bombed

"as soon as you book them."

Doctors.

He'd have had his hypodermic
rampant before you could say

As You Like It.

Madge is right.

There is no alternative.

We'll have to cancel.

Oh, no, oh, Your Ladyship, no,
cancellation's ever so drastic.

He's ill.

There's no crime in being ill,
it's not high treason,

it's not a capital offence, it's not
desertion in the face of the enemy.

He's not himself. He can't work.
Will the world stop turning?

Will the Nazis overrun England?

One Lear more or less in the world
won't make any difference.

Sir always believes it will.

Who really cares
whether he acts or not?

I never imagined it would
end like this.

I've always thought
he was indestructible.

All the years we've been together.

Feels like a lifetime.

Even longer, he and I.

It'll be the first time
we've ever cancelled.

Look, I want to go to the hospital.
No, Norman.

I want to sit with him,
be with him

and try to give him some comfort.

I can usually make him smile.
Maybe when he sees me...

They wouldn't even let me stay.

I wish I could remember the name of
the girl who got me into all this.

Motherly type, she was,
small parts, play as cast.

I can see her face clearly.

I can see her standing there,
on platform two at Crewe,

a Sunday, I was on platform four.
"Norman," she called.

We'd been together in Outward Bound,
the number three tour,

helped with the wardrobe I did, and
understudied Scrubby, the steward.

That's all aboard a ship, you know.
It's a lovely first act.

"We're all dead, aren't we?"

And I say, "Yes, sir,
we're all dead. Quite dead."

And he says, "How long have you
been... you been...? Oh, you know."

"Me? Oh, I was lost young."

And then he says,
"Where... where are we sailing for?"

And I say, "Heaven, sir.
And hell, too.

"It's the same place, you see."

Lovely. Well,

to cut a short story shorter,
Sir wanted help in the wardrobe

and someone to assist generally
but, mainly, with the storm in Lear.

I've told you this before,
haven't I?

Put me on the timpani, he did.

And on the first night, after
the storm, while he was waiting

to go on for, "No, they cannot touch
me for coining", he called me over.

My knees were jelly.

"Were you on the timpani tonight?"

I said, "Yes, sir," fearing
the worst. "Thank you," he said.

"You are an artist."

My father was exactly the same.

Always exaggerated his illnesses.

That's why I thought it was not
very serious, I thought...

Any further developments?

We had better see
the theatre manager.

Perhaps you ought to come with me.

Oh, no, Your Ladyship, please,
let's take our time,

let's not rush things.
There's no alternative.

Madge is right, we can't play
King Lear without the King.

We have to make a decision.

Forgive me, Your Ladyship, it's not
a decision you have to make,

it's the right decision.

I had a friend, in a very low state,
he was, ever so fragile,

a pain to be with.

You weren't safe from him
on top of a bus.

If he happened to sit beside you,

he'd tell you the ABC of unhappiness
between request stops.

Someone close to him, his mother,
I believe,

although it was never proved,

understandably upset,
made a decision.

"A little rest", she said,
"with others similarly off-centre,

"in Colwyn Bay", never a good date,
not in February,

wrapped in a grey rug,
gazing at a grey sea.

Talk about bleak.

Mother-dear made a decision
but it was the wrong decision.

And my friend never acted again.
We have to face the facts.

I've never done that in my life, Your Ladyship,
and I don't see why I should start now.

I just like things to be lovely.

Yes, but things aren't lovely,
Norman.

They aren't if you face facts.

Face the facts, it's facing
the company I worry about.

I'll be in Madge's office
if I'm wanted.

Don't decide yet, Your Ladyship,
let me go to the hospital,

let me see how he is,
you never know.

I do know. I realise now that I've
witnessed a slow running down.

I've heard the hiss of air escaping.

Norman! Norman!

Good evening, Sir.

Good evening, Norman.
Good evening, Pussy.

Bonzo, why are you here?

Well, my name is on the door.
Did the doctors say you could leave?

Doctors?

Executioners.

Do you know what he told me?

A short, bald butcher.
Il Duce in a white coat.

When a doctor tells you
you need rest, you can be certain

he has not the slightest
idea of what is wrong with you.

I discharged myself.

Telephone the hospital.
Do not telephone the hospital!

Norman, will you leave us, please?

I'll see Madge and tell her
there is an alternative.

Shh-shh!

You're fit for nothing.

Please, Pussy, don't.

Cancel the performance.
Can't, mustn't, won't.

Then take the consequences.

When have I not?

Where have you been all day?

Don't tell me
you found a brothel in this town.

I can't remember all I've done.

I know towards the evening
I was being pursued

but I couldn't see who
the villains were.

Then the air-raid warning went.
I refused to take shelter.

Wherever I went,
I seemed to hear a woman crying.

Then, suddenly,

I had a clear image of my father

on the beach near Lowestoft.

"An actor?" he said, "Never."

"You will be a boat builder like me."

But I defied him and lost his love.

Father preferred people to cower.

But I had to chart my own course.

I decide when I'm ready
for the scrapyard. Not you. I.

No-one else. I.

The woman you heard crying was me.

Norman! Sir.
I want you by me, Norman.

Yes, sir. Don't leave my side,
Norman.

No, sir. I shall need help, Norman.
Yes, sir. Madge.

You speak to him.
He doesn't listen to a word I say.

He's obviously incapable.

You look exhausted.
That's what I call tact.

Are you sure you're able to
go on tonight?

How long have you been with me?
Longer than anyone else.

Have I ever missed a performance?
No, but then you've never been ill.

I only want what's best for you.

What's best for Sir is that
he's allowed to get ready.

Ready, yes, I must get ready.

Ready for what?

If you'll excuse me, Your Ladyship,
shouldn't you be getting ready too?

I can't bear to see him like that.
Then best to leave us.

I've had experience of these things.

I know what has to be done.

Imagine waking to that
night after night.

Right, shall we begin
at the beginning? Good evening, Sir.

"Good evening, Norman."
And how are you this evening, Sir?

"A little tearful, I'm afraid.
And you, Norman?"

Oh, I'm very well, thank you.

I've had ever such a quiet day,
just ironing your costumes,

cleaning your wig and beard,
washing your undies.

And what have you been up to, Sir,
if I may ask?

"Oh, I've been jumping on my hat,
Norman."

Have you? Well, that's an odd thing
to do. May one ask why?

"Why what, Norman?"

Why have we been jumping
on our hat, Sir?

Shall we play I-Spy?

I spy with my little eye something
beginning with...

A.

I know you won't guess,
so I'll tell you.

A is for actor.

And actors have to work, and actors
have to put on their make-up

and change their frocks and then,
of course, actors have to act.

Good lord. Zounds, madam,
where dost thou get this knowledge?

From a baboon, sir,
that wandered wild in Eden.

Or words to that effect.

There's less than an hour to go
and you usually want more.

So, come on, shall we make a start?

Yes, it's me, Norman,
the one with the soulful eyes.

There.

Drink up. It's tea, not rat poison.

There you go, that's better,
isn't it? Isn't it?

Would you like a biccie?

I saved some from the mayor's
reception in Bridlington.

No?

Would you like one, Norman?
Ooh, I say.

Thank you, I will.

If you don't mind my saying so, Sir,
there seems little point

in discharging yourself
from hospital and then coming to

sit here like Niobe prior
to being turned into stone.

So, shall we make a start?

No, no, don't do that.
That's what I'm here for.

Ohh!

Oh, I know how it feels.

I had a friend,

worse than you, he was,

and all they ever wanted to do
with him was put him away.

And no-one should have to
go through that.

That's what my friend said.

You know they'll send you
to Colwyn Bay

and you never do any
business in Colwyn Bay.

And guess what got my friend well?
Sounds silly this.

An offer of work.

Can you understudy Scrubby?
Outward Bound, start Monday.

He discharged himself, just like
you, my friend did, took the train

up to London, found digs
in Brixton and never looked back.

What do you make of that?
An offer of work.

It meant that someone...

...was thinking of him.

It was ever such a comfort.

And here's something
to cheer you up.

A full house tonight.

People thinking of you,
wanting to see you act.

Really? A full house?
Now, shall we make a start?

What play is it tonight?
King Lear, Sir.

That's impossible.

Oh, thank you.
Oh, that's nice, isn't it?

People paying good money to see you
and you say "impossible".

Very nice indeed! I don't think.
I don't want to be seen.

Well, that's difficult

when you're playing King Lear
with the lighting you use.

I don't want to see her ladyship.

Oh, well, even more difficult
when she's playing your daughter.

You saw her a moment ago.
You were alone together.

Were we?

What play is it tonight?

King Lear, Sir.

Madge was wrong.

Yes, well, she often is.

I have been ill before this.

Did you ever see me in
The Corsican Brothers?

Ah, no. Alas, sir, before my time.

I went on with
double pneumonia then.

Apt when you're playing
the Corsican brothers.

I'd rather have
double pneumonia than this.

Than what?

What prevents me from packing up
and going home?

Why am I here
when I should be asleep?

Wasn't that a strange light
in Market Square this evening?

I don't remember
being in Market Square.

You've been missing whole days.
What do you remember?

Walking, walking, walking. If only
I could find a good, catchy title.

I think My Life a little plain,
don't you?

Still stuck, are we?
No, no. I wrote a little today.

Two or three sides
of an exercise book.

But I can't find a title.
Oh, well, we'll think of something.

See if it's still in my jacket.
And my reading glasses.

I thought I had written today.

No, well, you'll not see
much through those.

Well, look for me.

Is there anything?

Evidently not.
It cannot be Lear again.

Shall we start our make-up?

I'm getting out of here.

I'm not staying in this place
a moment longer.

I am surrounded by vipers,
betrayal on every side.

I am being crushed, the lifeblood
is draining out of me.

The load is too much.

Norman, Norman, if you have any
regard for me, don't listen to him.

Who? Who? More, more, more,
I cannot give any more.

I have nothing more to give.
I want a tranquil senility.

I'm an old man.

I don't want to go on painting
my face night after night

after night, dressing up in clothes
that are not my own,

I'm not a child dressing
up for charades.

This is my work, this is
my life's work, I'm an actor.

Who cares if I go out there tonight

or any other night
and shorten my life?

Shorten my life...

I don't care if there's only
three people out front,

or if the audience laughs
when they shouldn't, or don't

when they should, one person, just
one person will know and understand.

And I act for him.

I cannot move that which
cannot be moved.

What are we on about now?

I'm filled inside with stone.

Stone upon stone.
I cannot lift myself.

The weight is too much.
Oh, I know futility when I see it.

I dream at night of unseen hands
driving wooden stakes into my feet.

And the dream is long and graceless.
I awake, sweat-drenched, poisoned.

And the whole day long there is
a burning heat inside of me,

driving all else from my mind.

What did I do today?

You walked. You thought you wrote.

You went into Market Square.

And a woman kissed your hand

and said you were lovely
in The Corsican Brothers.

How do you know all this?
Has someone been talking?

I don't wish to hurry you, Sir.

No, I lie, I do.

I hate the swines. Who?

He's a hard task-master,
he drives me too hard.

I have too much to carry.

Yes?

I'd like to see him.
I'd rather you didn't.

It's my responsibility to take
the curtain up tonight.

There isn't much time.

Things have reached
a delicate stage.

What's all the whispering?
Nothing, nothing.

Has he begun to make-up yet? Not
yet. Do you realise how late it is?

They'll be calling
the half in a moment.

I know how late it is.

Then on your head be it.

Oh, look! A dressing-gown!

Shall we put it on
and keep ourselves warm?

What does it matter where you were
or what you did today?

You're here in the theatre,
safe and sound, where you belong.

Another full house. Lovely.

Really? A full house?

They'll be standing in the gods.

Do you know they bombed
The Grand Theatre, Plymouth?

And much else of the city besides.

I made my debut
at The Grand Theatre, Plymouth.

They weren't to know.

I shouldn't have come out this
autumn but I had no choice.

He made me. Who?

I should have rested.

I had a friend that was
ordered to rest.

He obeyed
and that was the end of him.

He was ever so ill.

Nearly became a Catholic.

Right, now, would you like
a little rub-down?

I'm not surprised
you're feeling dispirited.

It's been ever such a hard time.

No young men to play juveniles and
the trouble with Mr Davenport-Scott.

What news of Mr Davenport-Scott?

The police have opposed bail. What?

Well, he'd had his second warning.
How then do we dispose our forces?

Mr Thornton is standing by
to play Fool.

And who as Oswald?
Mr Brown, I'm afraid.

That leaves me a knight short for
"reason not the need".

98 short, actually,
if you take the text as gospel.

One more or less won't seem
too upsetting.

Herr Hitler has made it
very difficult

for Shakespearean companies.
It'll be a chapter in the book, Sir.

I hate to mention it but we're going
to be short for the storm.

We've no-one to operate
the wind machine,

not if Mr Thornton is to play Fool.

Mr Thornton was ever
so good on the wind machine.

Madge knows the problem
but she's very unsympathetic.

You tell Madge from me I must
have the storm at full strength.

What about Oxenby?
Not the most amenable of gentlemen.

Send him to me at the half.
I'll have a word with him.

Better talk to Thornton, too.

There you are, you see?

That's more like it.

You're where you belong,
doing what you know best,

and you're yourself again.

Right, well, you start
doing your make-up and I'll go

and tell them to come and see you.

I've cleaned the wig and beard.

Shan't be a minute.

Oh, no, Sir! Not Othello!

The lines are fouled.
Up on your short, down on your long.

Is there a dead for it?

Instruct the puppeteer to
renew the strings.

The stuffing is
escaping at the seams,

straw from a scarecrow lies
scattered down, stage left.

I would have given anything to see
the play tonight.

There's you all blacked up
and Cordelia saying,

"You beget me, bred me, loved me."

Well, the time has come,
if you don't mind my saying so,

to stop waxing poetical
and to wax a bit more practical.

Who?

Irene.

I've come for the triple crown.
Enter.

Good evening, Sir.

All well? Yes, thank you, Sir.

You've come for the triple crown.

Yes, Sir.

Polish it well. I like it gleaming.

Yes, Sir.

And return it to me
well before curtain up.

I like to wear it by the quarter.
Yes, Sir.

And when I have used it on stage,

see that it is returned to my room
after the interval.

She has done it before, Sir.

I like to be certain.

There it is, my child.

Pretty young thing, aren't you?

Thank you, Sir.

Sir, it's time to age.

They're all the same colour.
Which stick do I use?

I can't see the colours.

What now? How is he?

He'll be all right
if he's left in peace.

I want to see with my own eyes.
No, no, he is not to be disturbed.

And what about the understudies?

He knows all about it,
everything's in hand.

You realise now there's going to be
an audience out there.

It'd be a bit silly going through
all this if there wasn't.

Will he be ready on time?
Will he be well enough? Yes.

Madge, can I just, erm...?

Who was that?
Just a minion minioning.

Too many interruptions,
my concentration.

Norman. Yes, Sir?

How does the play begin?

Which play, Sir?

Tonight's, tonight's,
I cannot remember the first line.

"Attend the lords of France
and Burgundy, Gloucester."

Yes, yes.

What performance is this?

Tonight will be your...

227th performance of the part, Sir.

227 Lears and I cannot remember
the first line.

Haven't we forgotten
something else, Sir?

If you don't mind my asking.
We have to sink our cheeks.

I shall look like this in my coffin.

And a broad straight line
of number 20 down the nose.

'Give you strength, you say.'

'Surgical spirit.'

'I know how to stick on a beard.

'I've been a depicter for 50 years.'

'I shall need a rest after
the storm scenes.'

'There's no need to tell me.
I know.'

'And shall we take extra care with
the wig join tonight?'

'I shall give them
a good one tonight.'

Norman! Yes, Sir?

What's the first line again? All this
clitter-clatter-chitter-chatter...

"Attend the lords of France
and Burgundy, Gloucester."

You've put it out of my mind.
Keep silent when I'm dressing.

I have work to do,
hard bloody labour.

Sir, Sir. I cannot remember
the first line. 100,000 performances

and I have to ask you
for the first line.

Yes, I'll take you through it.
Take me through it?

Nobody takes you through it,
you're put through it,

night after night after night.
I haven't the strength.

And you're a fine one.

I must say, you of all people,

you disappoint me,
if you don't mind my saying so.

You, who always say that self-pity
is the most unattractive

quality on stage or off.

Who have you been working for
all these years?

The Ministry of Information?

Struggle and survival, you say,
that's all that matters.

The whole world's struggling for
bloody survival, so why can't you?

My dear Norman, I seem to have
upset you. I'm sorry.

I understand.
We cannot always be strong.

There is danger in
covering the cracks.

Never mind about
covering the cracks,

what about covering the wig join?

Half an hour, please, Sir. Already?

You were in late this evening, Sir.

She hasn't returned with
the triple crown.

I like it on my head by now.

Look! What?

My hands, they're shaking.

Well, they'll be very
effective in the part.

Don't forget to make them up.
I can't stop them. You do it.

Oh, oh, look here.

Look here, it must be infectious.

I can face the division
of my kingdom.

I can cope with Fool.

I can bear the reduction
of my retinue.

I can stomach the curses
I have to utter.

I can even face being
whipped by the storm.

But I dread the final entrance.

To carry my Cordelia...

dead, dead.

To cry like the wind,
howl, howl, howl.

To lay her gently on the ground,
to die.

Have I the strength?

If you haven't the strength,
no-one has.

You're a good friend, Norman.

Thank you, Sir.

You shall be rewarded.
Pardon me while I get my violin.

Do not mock me. I may not have long.

My father used to say that.
He lived till he was 93.

He may still be alive,
for all I know.

Bonzo, how do you feel?

A little more myself, Pussy.

You see? Once he's assumed
the disguise, he's a different man.

"Egad, Madam,
thou hast a porcupine wit."

And are you sure you're
able to go on?

On and on and on.

Pussy, I thought
it was the black one tonight.

My dear.
Did I wake in the night, Pussy?

Did I thank you
for watching over me?

Was there talk of violence?

No, Bonzo, you dreamt it.

I still have the feeling.

Would you like me to fetch the
cloak and tie it on as usual?

Yes, as usual.

Oh, erm, Mr Thornton and Mr Oxenby

are waiting outside to see you.

Would you like me
to ask them to come in?

I don't want to see Oxenby.
He frightens me.

Mind you, he was the best
Iago I've ever had or seen

and I include that 4'6"
ponce Sir Arthur Palgrove.

That's more like the Sir
we know and love.

He went on playing Hamlet
till he was 68.

There were more lines on his face
than steps to the gallery.

I saw his Lear. I was pleasantly
disappointed. Sir Arthur Palgrove.

Who advises His Majesty,
answer me that?

You're a miracle-worker, Norman.
Thank you, Your Ladyship.

Here's a piece of chocolate
for you.

Oh, thank you, Your Ladyship.

It'll be all hands to the pump
tonight, Norman.

A small part of the service,
Your Ladyship. Thank you.

Don't suppose I didn't see that
because I did.

There are more children in this
beloved land of ours scavenging

the larders for something sweet,

if only they came to me
I could tell them of

the one person in England who has an
inexhaustible supply of chocolate.

Because it is I who have to carry
her dead as my Cordelia.

It is I who have to lift her
up in my arms.

Thank Christ, I thought,
for rationing

but, no, she would find sugar
in a sand dune.

Shall I show the actors in, Sir?

What? No, I don't want...
Sir, you have to see the actors.

Ah, Mr Thorton. Mr Thornton
to see you, Sir.

Geoffrey, does the costume fit?

Mr Davenport-Scott was
such a tall man.

Mr Davenport-Scott was a worm.
You look, er...

Do you know the lines? Yes.

Don't keep me waiting for them.

Oh, no.
Pace, pace, pace, pace, pace, pace.

Yes. And keep out of my focus. Yes.

The boom lights placed
in the downstage wings

are for me and me only.
Yes, old man, I know.

You must find what light you can.
Right.

Let me hear you sing. What?

"For he that has the little
tiny wit. Heigh-ho..."

He... he...

All right, speak it, don't sing it.

And in the storm scene, if you
are going to put your arms around

my legs, as Mr Davenport-Scott did,
then around my calves, not my thighs.

He almost ruptured me twice.

I'd rather I didn't, old man.

Feel it, my boy, feel it,
it is the only way.

Whatever takes you. Right.

But do not let it take you too much.
Remain within the bounds.

And, at all costs, remain still
when I speak. Of course.

Serve the playwright...

and keep your teeth in.

It's only when I'm nervous.

You will be nervous, I guarantee it.

There will be no extra
payment for this performance.

I believe your contract is
play as cast. Yes.

Good fortune attend your endeavours.
Thank you, Sir.

God bless, Geoffrey.

I'd rather face
the Nazi hordes any day.

I hope Mr Churchill has better
men in the cabinet.

Mr Oxenby is waiting, Sir. Oxenby?

What... what...? I don't know.
What does Oxenby want?

It's not what he wants,

it's what we want - someone to
operate the wind machine.

I don't want to see Oxenby,
I can't bear the man,

it's stifling in here.

We'll have no storm without him.

Mr Oxenby to see you, Sir.

You wanted to see me?

I...I don't know, erm, why?
Er, Norman?

Sir was wondering
if he could ask of you a favour.

He can ask.

You've not been with us very long

but I'm sure you've seen
enough to know that we're not

so much a company as one great
big happy family.

And...

we all muck in as required.

As I'm sure you've heard,

Mr Davenport-Scott will not be
rejoining the company.

Yes, I've heard.

You share a dressing-room
with one or two of them,

you hear nothing else.

It upsets the pansy fraternity

when one of their number is caught.

Because Mr Thornton is having
to play Fool,

and because our two elderly knights
are setting the hovel behind

the cloth during the storm scene,

we've no-one to operate
the wind machine.

We'd ask Mr Brown
but he's really rather too fragile.

We were wondering
if you'd turn the handle.

In short, no.

Anything else?

Has he read my play yet?

Perhaps the Russians have had
a setback on the Eastern Front.

Bolshevism will be
the ruin of the theatre.

What are we going to do?
Fancy not wanting to muck in.

He hates me. I can feel his hatred.

All I stand for he despises.

I wouldn't read his play, even if
he were Commissar of Culture.

I've read it.
Is there a part for me? Yes.

I know what Oxenby's up to.

He's writing plays for critics,
not people.

Oughtn't we to be quiet
for a bit, Sir?

Where's the girl with
the triple crown?

Don't fuss. I'll go and find her.

Oh, my dear.

Norman's just gone to find you.

Has he? I must have missed him.

Remind me of your name, child.

It's Irene, Sir.

Irene. Charming.

Were you at the Rada?

No, sir. I went straight into Rep.

Of course. I remember. Which Rep?

Maidenhead. Maidenhead, yes.

Next week in Eastbourne.

I can't find her.

Just admiring her bone structure.
Run along, Irene. Run along.

A born actress.
Can tell by the cheek bones.

Put the crown on.
It's almost the quarter.

Shall I fetch her ladyship
and ask her to tie on the cloak?

How does the play begin?
God help me, that child has

driven it from my mind.

Quarter of an hour, please,
a few minutes late, I'm sorry,

that girl Irene is going to be
the death of me.

The quarter, I can't, I'm not ready,
tell them to go home,

give them their money back.
I hate the swines, I can't, I can't.

What are you saying? Do you want
the performance cancelled?

No, he doesn't. How does it begin?

For your own good.
How does it begin?

You'll never get through it.
He will. How does it begin?!

Get out, he'll be good and ready
when the curtain goes up.

We've run out of time.

There's 20 minutes yet.
We'll go up late, if necessary.

Leave me in peace!
I cannot remember the lines.

Norman, Norman, how does it begin?

"He hath been out nine years
and away he shall again."

"The King is coming."

"Attend the lords of France
and Burgundy, Gloucester."

"Attend the lords of France
and Burgundy, Gloucester."

"I shall, my liege."

Yes? "Meantime we shall
express our darker..."

"Meantime we shall
express our darker purpose."

"Give me the map."

Don't tell me, don't tell me,
I know it!

I'll ask for it if I need it.

I have played this
part before, you know.

"What do I fear?"

Wrong.
"Know we have divided in three."

"Myself? There's none else by.

"True, I talk of dreams, which are
the children of a troubled brain."

Wrong play, wrong play.

"Can this cockpit hold the vasty
fields of France?"

No, that's another wrong play.

"Men should be what they seem.
Macbeth shall sleep no more!

Now look what you've gone and done.
What?

Go out, go out.

You've quoted the Scottish play.

Did I? Macb...? Did I?

Oh, Christ. Out!

Turn round three times.

Two, three...

Right, knock.

Swear.

Pisspots.

"And my poor fool is hang'd."

You'll be all right.

Do we have a full house?

Struggle, Bonzo.

Survival, Pussy.

Beginners, please, Act I.

Beginners, please, Sir. Thank you.

Let us descend
and survey the scene of battle.

The night I played my first
Lear there was a thunderstorm.

A real thunderstorm.
But now they send bombs.

How much more have I to endure?

We are to speak Shakespeare tonight

and they will go to any
lengths to prevent me.

I shouldn't take it
too personally, Sir.

Bomb, bomb, bomb us
into submission if you dare!

But each word I speak will be
a shield against your savagery,

each line I utter
a protection against your terror.

I don't think they can
hear you, Sir.

Swines! Barbarians!

Oh, no. Oh, Sir.

Just as we were winning.

Perhaps it's timely. He can't go on.
Look at him. Fetch Madge.

Norman! Sir.

Get me down to the stage. Yes.

By Christ, no squadron of
Fascist Bolsheviks will stop me now.

Do as I say!

How is he?
Who'll make the announcement?

Mr Davenport-Scott, of course.

No! Oh, dear! You, then, Norman.

Me, Sir? Do not argue,
I've given my orders,

I have enough to contend with.

Sir, I'm not equipped. Do it!

Come on.

Take the apron off,
for goodness' sake.

Ladies and gentlemen...

Ladies and gentlemen,
the warning has just gone.

An air-raid is in progress.

We shall proceed
with the performance.

Will those...
Will those who wish to live...

Will anyone who wishes to leave
do so as quietly as possible?

Thank you.

Stand by.

Stand by on tabs.

Stand by on stage.

Go IX. Go flies.
Curtain going up.

I thought the King had more affected
the Duke of Albany than Cornwall.

It did always seem so to us.

Geoffrey, was I all right?

Yes, yes, old man, damn good.

Your Ladyship, was I all right?

Better than Mr Davenport-Scott.

Really? Do you mean that?

I was ever so nervous.

Do you think anyone
noticed the slip?

"Will those who wish to live..."

Ooh, I could have kicked myself.

I was really all right?
You were fine.

Did he say anything? No.

Cueing grams.

My services to Your Lordship.

Stand by, please.
All right, Sir.

Cueing timpani, Sir.

The King is coming.

Sir? What?

Her Ladyship's entered.

Oh, quite a nice round,
so it's your turn now.

You see? What did I say?

Please, Sir, the entrance.
You're on.

Please, Sir, it's your entrance.

Methought I saw him.

His procession formed,

100 knights his escort...

Mr Oxenby's having to extemporize.

"Attend the lords of
France and Burgundy".

The King, my father, was,
methought, behind me.

From our camp we marched,
a goodly distance,

I ahead, as is our custom.

Sir, the natives are
getting restless.

Sound the fanfare again.

Ah! Methinks I see the King.

No, I was mistook.

My Lord, with thy consent,
I shall to his majestic side,

there to discover
his royal progress.

Is he coming or isn't he? Yes!

I'm cueing the King's fanfare again.

"Attend the lords of France
and Burgundy, Gloucester."

Cue the knights, cue the knights.

Oh! Go on, go on.

Enter, for God's sake.

Attend the lords of France
and Burgundy, Gloucester.

I shall, my liege.

Meantime we shall express our darker
purpose. Give me the map there.

Know that we have divided in three
our kingdom, and 'tis our fast

intent to shake all cares and
business from our age, conferring

them on younger selves, while we,
unburdened

crawl toward death.

Thou art a lady,
if only to go warm were gorgeous.

Why, nature needs not
what thou gorgeous wear'st,

which scarcely keeps thee warm.

But for true need,

you heavens, give
me that patience,

patience I need.

You see me here, you gods,
a poor old man,

as full of grief as age,
wretched in both.

If it be you that stirs
these daughters' hearts

against their father, fool me
not so much to bear it tamely.

Touch me with noble anger.

And let not women's weapons,
water-drops, stain my man's cheeks!

No, you unnatural hags, I will have
such revenges on you both.

That all the world shall -
I will do such things -

what they are yet I know not but they
shall be the terrors of the earth.

You think I'll weep.

No, I'll not weep.

I have full cause of weeping
but this heart shall

break into 100,000 flaws
or ere I'll weep.

O, fool! I shall go mad.

Let us withdraw, 'twill be a storm.

I know you. Where's the king?

Stay out of my focus, Geoffrey.

Contending with
the fretful elements.

Bids the wind blow the earth into
the sea or swell the curled waters

'bove the main,
That things might change or cease.

Geoffrey, wait. Don't get in
the light. Don't hold up, no pauses.

Just keep the pace going.
Pace, pace, pace, pace, pace.

Sir, I do know you, open this purse,
and take what it contains.

A fie on this storm! Stand by.

I shall go seek the King.

Stand by LX. Now!

Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks.

Rage, blow, you cataracts
and hurricanoes, strike.

Thou sulphurous
and thought executing fires...

Louder! He wants it louder!

Singe my white head
and thou, all shaking thunder,

strike flat the thick
rotundity o' th' world.

Crack nature's moulds, all germens...

Come on, louder!
He wants it louder, come on!

That's not loud enough, louder!

Come on, come on!

Nor rain, wind, thunder,
fire are my daughters.

So old and white as this.
O, ho, 'tis foul!

Where was the storm?
Where was the storm?

I ask for cataracts and hurricanoes
and I am given

nothing but trickles and whistles.

I demand oak-cleaving thunderbolts
and you answer with farting flies.

Norman, Norman, you have thwarted me.

I was there, within sight,
I had only to be spurred upwards

and the glory was mine for
the plucking and there was naught,

zero, silence, a breeze,
oh, a breeze!

A shower,
a collision of cotton-wool,

a flapping of butterfly wings.
I want a tempest not a drizzle.

Something will have to be done.

I demand to know what happened
tonight to the storm!

I'm pleased you're pleased.

I've never known you not complain
when you've really been at it

and, tonight, one could safely say,
without fear of contradiction,

you were at it.

Go on, rest now.

You've the interval and all
of Gloucester's blinding before,

"No, they cannot touch me
for coining."

Try to sleep.

You've been through it.

Or been put through it,

whichever you prefer.

And you need quiet, as the deaf-mute
said to the piano tuner.

Mighty, Her Ladyship thought you
were tonight, she did,

that was the word she used.

"Mighty."

Of course, I cannot comment
on the storm scene but I did hear,

"O Reason not the need".

Tremble-making.

Never seen you
so full of the real thing,

if you don't mind my saying so, Sir.

And here's a funny thing.

In the storm scene, while we were
beating ourselves delirious

and I was having to jump
between thunder sheet

and timpani,

like a juggler with
rubber balls and Indian clubs,

Mr Oxenby came to our aid,
uninvited.

Not a word said,
just gave assistance

when assistance was needed.

Afterwards, just before
the interval, I thanked him.

"Get stuffed,"
he said, which wasn't nice.

And then he added, scornfully,
"I don't know why I helped."

And I said, "Because we
are a band of brothers,

"and you're one of us
in spite of yourself."

I did, that's what I said.

He hobbled away, his head down

and if he was given to muttering,

he'd have muttered.

Darkly.

Are you asleep, Sir?

To be driven thus.

I hate the swines.

Who? Who is it that you hate?

The critics?

The critics? Hate the critics?

I have nothing
but compassion for them.

How can one hate the crippled,
the mentally deficient and the dead?

Bastards. Who then? Who then what?

Who then is it that you hate?

Let me rest, Norman, you must
stop questioning me, let me rest.

But don't leave me till I'm asleep.
Don't leave me alone.

I am a spent force.
My days are numbered.

Is he asleep? I think so, yes.

I'll sit with him.

Well, don't wake him,
Your Ladyship. He's ever so tired.

Is it my cue?

No, it's still the interval.

I have things to say.

Norman tells me you thought
I was mighty tonight.

I never said anything of the kind.
He makes these things up.

What have you to say?

What I always have to say.

You know my answer.

You've worked hard.

You've saved.

Enough's enough.

Tonight, in your curtain speech,

make the announcement.

I can't.

You won't. I have no choice.

You'll die.

Or end up a vegetable!

Well, that's your affair.

But you're not going to
drag me with you.

I am helpless, Pussy.
I do what I'm told.

I cower, I'm frightened
of being whipped, I am driven.

Driven? No. Cruel? Yes,

Obstinate? Yes. Ruthless? Yes.

Don't! For an actor, you have
a woeful lack of insight.

Use your great imagination,

use your inspired gifts,

try to imagine what I feel,

what I'm forced to go through.

I do! But I need you beside me,

familiar, real!

I am beside you, darning tights.
Very familiar, quite real.

All I ask, Bonzo, is that we stop.

Now, tonight, the end of the week -
but no more.

I can't take any more.

It's not possible. It is possible.

No. You deceive no-one but yourself.

If that were true, why then am I here, with
bombs falling, risking life and limb? Why?

Not by choice. I have a duty.
I have to keep the faith.

Oh, balls!

What?

You do nothing
without self-interest.

And you drag everyone with you.

Me - chained, not even by law.

Oh, would marriage have made
that much difference to you?

You misunderstand, deliberately.

I should have made her
divorce me, yeah!

You didn't get a divorce
because you wanted a knighthood.

That's not true. True?
You know where your priorities lie.

Whatever you do is to your advantage
and to no-one else's.

Talk about being driven.

You make yourself sound like
a disinterested stagehand.

You do nothing without
self-interest.

You. Self. Alone.

Pussy, please, I'm sinking.
Do not push me further into the mud.

Sir. Her Ladyship. Fantasies.

For God's sake,
you're a third-rate actor-manager

on a tatty tour of the provinces,

not some Colossus
bestriding the narrow world.

Sir, Her Ladyship!
Look at me - darning tights.

Look at you.

Lear's hovel is luxury
compared to this.

I'm not well, I have half
of Lear's life ahead of me,

I have to carry you in my arms,

I have "Howl, howl, howl!"
yet to speak!

"Sir", "Her Ladyship" -
We're a laughing-stock!

You'd never get a knighthood

because the King doesn't possess
a double-edged sword.

Do you remember, years ago,
an actress, one of our Gonerils?

She was a tall, dark, handsome girl
with a Grecian nose.

Flora Bacon.

Was it? Yes, perhaps it was.

Flora.

Do you remember the night
I was rather hard on Norman

because he'd got my tights inside out

during the quick change
in The Wandering Jew?

Or was it The Sign Of The Cross?

Whichever.

She turned on me.

"He may be your servant," she said,
"but he is a human being."

Then, to Norman, she said,
"Why don't you leave him?

"Why do you put up with it?" And Norman said,
"Don't fuss. He only gives as good as he gets.

"He has to take it out
on someone," he said.

And he was right. Because
Flora Bacon didn't understand.

Slave driver she called me.

Why ever did I employ her?

Her mother was Lady Bacon.
She invested £200 in the company.

I thought tonight I caught sight
of him, or saw myself as he sees me.

Speaking, "Reason not the need."

"Go on, you bastard,"
I seemed to be saying or hearing.

"Go on, you've more to give.
Don't hold back. More, more, more!"

And I was watching Lear.

Yes!

Each word he spoke
was fresh invented.

I had no knowledge of what came next,
what fate awaited him.

The agony was in
the moment of acting created.

Ha!

And I saw an old man.

And the old man...

...was me.

Don't leave me.

I'll rest easy if you stay.

But don't ask of me the impossible.

Otherwise...

...without you, in darkness,

I will see a locked door,

a sign, "Closed", in the window,

"Closed - gone away".

And a drawn blind.

I'll stay till Norman returns.

I meant longer.

Please.

Oh, please, Pussy.

Reassure me.

I'm sick.

Sick.

Yes, so am I.

Sick.

I'm sick of cold railway trains,

cold waiting rooms,

cold Sundays on Crewe,

and eating cold food late at night.

I'm sick of packing and unpacking

and of darning tights.

I'm sick of the smell of
rotting costumes and naphthalene.

And most of all,

I'm sick of reading week after week

that I'm barely adequate, too old,

the best of a bad supporting cast.

Unequal to you,
unworthy of your gifts.

And I'm sick of having to
put on a brave face.

I should have left you in Baltimore
on the last American tour.

I should have accepted
Mr Feldman's offer

and taken the 20th Century west.

Feldman thought
I wouldn't photograph well.

Swine.

I hate the cinema.

I believe in living things.

How quickly one's looks go.

They haven't built a camera
large enough to record me.

I wouldn't have minded
a modest success.

Why they knighted that dwarf
Arthur Palgrove I shall never know.

"Arise, Sir Arthur," said the King.
"But, Sir, I wasn't kneeling."

Not once in his whole career
did he put a toe outside London.

I liked America.

I hated the swines.

'Act Two beginners, please!'

I must rest now, Pussy.
I want peace.

All you want is
to have your cake and to eat it.

I've never seen any point in having
cake unless one is going to eat it.

Ha-ha! Ha-ha ha-ha!

Everything jolly?

Don't you know what knocking is?

Oh, please, Sir -
not in front of Her Ladyship.

Well, I've been mingling.

You should hear
what they think out there -

I have never known
an interval like it.

Michelangelo, William Blake -

God knows who else
you reminded them of.

One poor boy...

...an airman, head bandaged,

was weeping in the stalls bar,

comforted by an older man -

once blonde, now grey,
parchment skin and dainty hands -

who went on saying, "There, there,
Evelyn, it's only a play."

Which didn't seem to me
any comfort at all

because, if it hadn't been a play,

then "There-there-Evelyn"
wouldn't be so upset.

Michelangelo, did they?

And Blake.

I'm going to my room.

Please stay.

You must rest, Bonzo -
mustn't he Norman?

Yes, he must.

Pussy...

Be gentle with Her Ladyship.

I'm always gentle with Her Ladyship.

Especially gentle.

Why?

Time of life.

Ohh!

You mean flushes
and dizzy spells?

She's become very
preoccupied with herself.

Sounds like a bad attack of change.

Be gentle. I don't want her hurt.

Ai-ai!

Sleep now.

Is there anything else you want?

Oblivion.

That'll come sooner or later.

And I hope later.

I shall wake you in plenty of time

so you can enter fantastically
dressed in wild flowers.

Sleep tight,
don't let the bugs bite.

Fetch Madge!

Yes?

It's going well, I think.

Except for your first entrance.

Come here.

Hold my hand.

Please.

It's like ice.

Cold with fear.

What are you frightened of?

Of what is to come.

You know who you're
talking to, do you?

It's me, not someone to impress.

I'm speaking from my heart.

I have never before felt so lonely.

Please, I have a show to run...
Listen to me.

I am frightened of what is to come.

And I meant it, because,
for the first time in my life,

the future is hidden from me.

I see no friends.

I am not warmed by fellowship.

I know only...

awful solitude.

An occupational hazard.

You wanted to see me, about what?

I look on you as my one true friend.

I have to go back to the corner.

Have you been happy?

Has it been worth it?

No, I've not been happy.

Yes, it's been worth it.

Madge, dear...

In my will, I've left you
all my press-cutting books.

I don't want to hear what
you've left me in your will.

Cuttings and notices that span
a lifetime, an entire career.

I've kept them religiously.

Good and bad notices alike.

Not all that many bad.

Talk of me sometimes.
Speak well of me.

Actors live on only
in the memory of others.

Speak well of me.

This is a ridiculous conversation.

You're in the middle
of a performance of Lear,

playing rather less mechanically
than you have of late,

and you talk as if you're organising
your own memorial service.

The most wonderful thing in life
is to be remembered.

Speak well of me.

You'll be believed.

You'll be remembered.

Madge, dear...

I have something for you.

I want you to have this ring.

If possessions can be dear,
this ring is the dearest thing I own.

Edmund Kean wore this ring

in a play whose title is an apt
inscription for what I feel -

A New Way To Pay Old Debts.

When you talk of it,

say Edmund Kean and I wore it.

I once had it in mind
to give it to you...

years ago.

But you were younger then,

and I thought
you would misunderstand.

Yes.

A ring from a man to a woman
is easily misunderstood.

I know I'm thought insensitive,

but I'm not blind.

No. I've always known you were aware

of what the spinster
in the corner felt.

You were right not to give me
the ring years ago.

I lived in hope then.

At least I've seen you every day,
made myself useful to you.

I settled for what I could get.

You are the only one
who truly loves me.

Beginners for act two.

Who?

Irene. I'm returning
the triple crown, Sir.

Come.

Put it down.

Sir, will it disturb you
if I say something?

Depends what it is.

I just wanted to thank you.

For what?
The performance this evening.

It's not over yet. I felt honoured
to be on the stage.

Open that drawer, you will find
a photograph of me.

I love coming into this room.

I can feel the power.

And the mystery.

In days gone by,
this would have been a place

where the High Priests robed.

A kindred spirit.

Lock the door.

Come nearer.

It's Irene.

Irene.

You want to act?

Yes. Passionately?

Yes.
With every fibre of your being?

Yes.

To the exclusion of all else?

Yes.

You must be prepared to sacrifice
what most people call...

life.

I am.

Your birth sign? Scorpio.

Good.

Ambition, secretiveness, loyalty,
capable of great jealously.

Essential qualities in the theatre.

Have you good legs?

Come closer.

Let me see.

Higher.

TOO good. All the best actresses
have legs like tree trunks.

There's not much of you, is there?

Such small bones.

Are you getting enough to eat?

So young...

So young...

That's more like it!

Too late, too late.

Well, now, my dainty duck,
my dearie-o. Let go of me!

What was all that about?
He seems better.

Better than what or whom,
as the case may be?

I didn't think he'd get through
the performance tonight.

He's NOT through it yet.
I'm waiting.

For what? A graphic description
of events. Out with it,

or I shall slap your face - hard.

I thought we were friends!

I thought we were too.

Irene...

I shall long remember welcoming
you into the company,

in the prop room of
the Palace Theatre, Newark-on-Trent.

You were locked in the arms
of the Prince of Morocco,

a married man,
and ever such a comic sight

with his tights round his ankles
and you smeared black.

And I said,
"Don't worry, mum's the word,

"but don't let it happen again."

Sorry, what am I
supposed to have done?

Well, you tell me. About what?

About Sir.
You know who Sir is, Irene.

I'm late. I have to help
Her Ladyship with her armour.

Her Ladyship's armour will keep.

Perhaps you didn't understand
the question.

What did Sir do?

I'm not telling you.

Then I'll mark you for life, ducky.

You! You strike me
and I'll tell Sir - I will, I will.

I'll tell Sir, I'll tell Sir.

Tell Sir? On me?
I quake in my boots.

I shan't be able to eat my tea.
Oh, tell Sir!

Never mind "tell Sir".
I'll tell YOU.

He did something,
something unseen and furtive,

something that gave him pleasure.

He lifted me up in his arms.

Lifted you up?

And I understood,
I understood what he meant.

"So young, so young," he said,
and lifted me up.

"That's more like it," he cried,
and I knew, cradled in his arms,

that it was youth and newness
he was after...

It's not youth or talent
or star quality he's after, ducky,

but a moderate eater.

Oh, there you are.
You're late with my armour.

Off you go, dear. You'll have
to find another canoe to paddle.

Ours, I'm afraid... has holes.

Be brief in it, to the castle;
For my writ is on the life of Lear

and on Cordelia.
Nay, send in time.

Haste thee for thy life.

You're on. I wish you wouldn't do
that. You remind me of a labourer.

...some good I mean to do,
despite of mine own nature.

Ugh, God Almighty!

Cue LX.

Howl, howl, howl, howl!

O, you are men of stones. Had I your
tongues and eyes, I'd use them

so that heaven's vault
should crack.

She's gone for ever!

I know when one is dead, and
when one lives. She's dead as earth.

Lend me a looking-glass;

If that her breath will mist or stain
the stone, why, then she lives.

This feather stirs; she lives!

If it be so, it is a chance
which does redeem all sorrows

that ever I have felt.

Is this the promised end?

Or image of that horror?

And my poor fool is hang'd.
No, no, no life!

Why should a dog, a horse, a rat,
have life,

And thou no breath at all?

Thou'lt come no more,

Never, never, never, never, never!

Pray you, undo this button.

Thank you, sir. Do you see this?

Look on her, her lips,

Look there, look there.

Look up, my lord.

Stand by, curtain down.
O, let him pass. He hates him

that would upon
the rack of this tough world

stretch him out longer.
He's gone.

The weight of this sad time
we must obey. Speak what we feel,

not what we ought to say.

The oldest hath borne most,
we that are young

shall never see so much,
nor live so long.

Go flies.

We've done it, Will, we've done it!

Stand by for your curtain calls.

Curtain going up.

What play tomorrow? Richard III.

Slavery, bloody slavery.
Norman, Norman.

Sir.

What will happen to you?

Can you be a little more explicit?

What will happen to you
if I cannot continue?

Oh, stop it.
Nothing ever happens to me.

I lead a life
entirely without incident.

But if I should be
unable to continue...

Well, there's no chance of that
so I'm not bothering to answer.

I worry about you, my boy. Don't.

Who?

Geoffrey. Come. Oh god.

Just popped in to say goodnight,
old man.

Goodnight, Geoffrey.
Very fine in the storm scene.

I felt your love,
and that's what matters.

Oh, thank you.

Fool is by far the most important
part I've ever played

in Shakespeare. I hope you feel
I didn't let you down.

Offer Geoffrey a small
glass of beer, Norman.

Thank you.

Well, such an odd feeling tonight,
old man.

Rather exciting to reach my age
to prove to others that one can act.

That's the wonderful thing
about this life of ours.

It's never too late.
Surprising things happen.

But there are disadvantages.

One gets the taste for more.

Cheers. May good health attend you.

Bottoms up, Geoffrey.

May I ask you a question, old man?
Ask.

Fool is a curious role.
You give your all for almost

an hour-and-a-half, then vanish into
thin air for the rest of the play.

The next you hear of me
is you saying that I'm hanged.

But why? By whom?
It seems awfully unfair.

My theory is that, in William's day,
Fool and Cordelia were played

by one and the same person. A very
good double, Fool and Cordelia.

Saved an extra salary, of course.
Well, things haven't changed.

As long as you feel
I didn't let you down.

In no particular.

Just one last thing, I won't keep
you, I know you're very tired.

But when you interviewed me,
I said that I didn't want too much.

Small parts, I said.

It may not be thought admirable,
but I have never put a jot at risk.

Never wanted to scale the heights.

Played goodish parts,
tours, of course, never London.

I don't complain.
Touring's a good life.

Enjoyed my cricket in summer, hockey
in the winter...

lovely women, long walks,
a weekly change of scene,

the English countryside
in all weathers.

What could be nicer?

But never risked a jot.

No, I've been lucky.
Mustn't complain.

I expect I can get through
to the end of the chapter.

I've a little put by.

And my wife brings in a bit
from her singing lessons.

I've no right to expect work,
not at my age.

War's brought surprising employment.
All the youngsters at the front.

My grandson, not a pro...

...taken prisoner at Tripoli.

Sorry to be so long-winded.

But the point is,
if at any time circumstances arise,

I should like to be considered
for better parts.

And I shouldn't want
an increase in salary.

I shall keep you
in the forefront of my mind.

Thank you, old man.

Well... Goodnight.

Thank you for the drink.

I can manage. Night, Norman.

Fine fellow.

Fine fellow.

Shall we remove your make-up, Sir?

I hope Will's pleased tonight.

I had a friend...

Not now, Norman.

I had a friend who had
ever such a sweet singing voice,

but he lost it in Colwyn Bay
after a bad attack of sea mist.

But it came back to him again,
in the end, and do you know why?

Because he said to himself they
also sing who only stand and serve.

Or words to that effect.

Are you pissed, Norman?

Me, Sir? Pissed, Sir?

Sir Percy, how you do tousle me.

Let me smell your breath.

There. Told you.
Sweet as Winston Churchill.

I can't have you pissed.

You not dressed yet?

I'm a little slow tonight,
Pussy.

I'm not waiting.

I'll go back to the digs,
and see if I can get a fire lit.

I won't be long.

Goodnight, Norman. ..I'm not sure
whether I should thank you or not.

Not. I can't bear to be thanked.

Goodnight.

She's a good woman.

Good woman.

Who? Mr Oxenby.

What do you want? My manuscript.
He won't read it, I know that.

Keep your voice down! He's not gone
yet. Just wait there.

He's a little slow tonight.

All that struggling and surviving
has tired him, no doubt.

Please, Mr Oxenby.

Outmoded hypocrite.
Tell him from me, I look forward

to a new order.
I want a company without tyrants.

Who'd be in charge?

I would.

You'll be lovely with a bit success,
Mr Oxenby.

Your nose is browner than usual
tonight, Norman.

Goodnight, Sir.

If you hurry,
you'll catch Mr Oxenby.

Sir? AGH!

Oh, good God! I am tired. Terribly
tired. The room is spinning.

I must lie down.

See if you can get me a taxi
in this godforsaken place.

All in good time.

Oh, don't cry. Now, don't cry.

There's nothing left.

Stop that at once.

I had a friend...

Oh, for Christ's sake,
I'm sick of your friends!

The motley crew they are.
Pathetic, lonely, despairing...

That's nice, isn't it?

I beg your pardon. Uncalled for.

Think of me as your friend.

Never despairing.

Have apologised.

Never, never despairing.

Well, perhaps sometimes. At night.

Or at Christmas,
when you can't get a job in a panto.

But never once inside the building.
Never.

Pathetic maybe, but not ungrateful.

Too mindful of one's luck,
as the saying goes.

No duke is more privileged. Here's
beauty, here's spring and summer.

Here pain is bearable.
And never lonely. Not here.

For he that sheds his blood today
with me. Soft, no doubt.

Sensitive - that's my nature.
Easily hurt, but that's a virtue.

And I'm not here
for any reasons of my own either.

No-one could accuse me
of base motives.

I have got what I want
and I don't need anyone to know it.

Inadequate, yes.
But never, never despairing.

I've begun My Life.

Fetch it. The book.

I made a start...

You didn't get very far...

What did I write?

"My Life. Dedication.

"This book is dedicated
to my beloved Pussy,

"who has been my splendid spur.

"To the spirit of all actors
because of their faith

"and endurance
which never fails them.

"To those who do
the work of the theatre yet have

"but small share in the glory.

"The carpenters, electricians,
scene-shifters, property men.

"To the audiences, who have laughed
with us, have wept with us

"and whose hearts have united
with ours

"in sympathy and understanding."

"But finally..."

ah, Sir,

"to the memory
of William Shakespeare...

"..in whose glorious service
we all labour."

My Life will have to do.

Wait a moment, wait a moment...

"The carpenters, electricians,
scene-shifters..."

Sir?

Sir...

Sir?

Sir...

We're not dead, are we?

That's your cue.
You know the line.

"You lie! Jack Clinton..."

"lives!"

Talk about untoward.

Ooh... You're right.
The room is spinning.

Your Ladyship!

Anybody!

Wasn't much of a death scene.

Unremarkable.

And ever so short.
For him.

Where's Her Ladyship?

They all left before he did.
Couldn't wait.

I'll telephone her.

And I'll get a doctor.

Too late for a doctor, ducky.

What's going to happen to me?

Close the door. Wait outside.

I don't want to wait outside.

I NEVER wait outside.
I want to be with HIM.

I know my place, ducky.

Try and sober up.

Ambulance, please.

"Carpenters, electricians,
property men"? You cruel bastard.

You might have remembered.

Yes, Your Ladyship, it's Madge.

I was wondering if you could come
to the theatre.

Her Ladyship's coming at once.
She took it very calmly.

She asked for him
to be covered in his Lear cloak.

Covered in his Lear cloak?

Ooh! Fetch the photographers, ducky.

Covered in his Lear cloak?

This isn't the Death of Nelson,
you know.

Where is it?

There's no mention
of stage managers either.

Come out of here.

Are we going to get paid?

I mean, is there money in the till
after deductions for income tax?

We've got to be paid
for the full week, you know.

Just because a man dies
on Thursday doesn't mean to say

we get paid pro rata.

Come away.

Where will I go?

Where?
I'm nowhere... out of my element.

I don't want to end up running
a boarding house in Colwyn Bay.

What am I going to do?

You can speak well of him.

Speak well of THAT old sod?

I wouldn't give him a good
character, not in a court of law.

The ungrateful bastard.

Get out. Get out!

I don't want you in here.

Holy, holy, holy, is it?
This isn't a shrine!

No pissing on the altar.

Stop it.

Speak well of him?
I know what YOU'D say.

I know all about YOU, ducky.

I have eyes in my head.

We all have our little sorrows.

I know what you'd say - stiff upper,
faithful, loyal, loving.

Well, I have only one thing to say
about him

and I wouldn't say it in front
of you, or Her Ladyship, or anyone.

Lips tight shut. I wouldn't give you
the pleasure. Or him.

Especially not him.

If I said what I have to say, he'd
find a way to take it out on me.

No-one will ever know.

We all have our little sorrows,
ducky...

You're not the only one.

The littler you are,
the larger your sorrows.

You think you loved him?

What about me?

Oh, this is no place for death.

I had a friend...