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- What? - The racket, covey.
The row. The old salt water.
- What's the matter, then? - Nothing.
Hold up, covey. Why you dashin'off?
- I don't know who you are! - Who I am!
Well, that depends
if you're a beak or a peeler, don't it?
What?
And you obviously ain't neither of them, is ya?
Jack Dawkins is me given, though I'm best known
round these parts as the Artful Dodger.
You can call me Dodge.
- Oliver Twist.
I knows this gent, a very kindly old soul,
what you might describe as one of nature's...
philanthropists.
He has a place, it's where I kip.
Might take you in.
Got to be careful though. Being as how this old gent
is so tender-hearted, all sorts could try their luck.
But I'll do me best for ya
and that's all I can do, ain't it?
Thanks, Dodger.
- Dodge. - Come on, mate.
Got you a live one, Fagey.
Hello, my dear.
He don't know what to do with it.
It's a sausage, Oliver. You eat it.
- The whole thing? - Green.
Green as a cabbage. Ain't got a clue.
The whole thing, my dear.
What about you?
Do you want to share?
He don't eat 'em. Ain't kosher.
The pig and I are not born companions, my dear.
Thank you for the offer though. Eat, eat.
Look at him, he loves it.
You fill your boots, Nollie.
Nollie?
As in, short for Oliver, ain't it?
Got to have a moniker, now we're muckers.
Like me being Dodger.
See him?
That's Handles on account of, well...
speaks for itself, don't it?
And that's Pearly, cos his teeth is knackered.
Show him yer railings, Pearly.
And now you is Nollie.
Didn't you never have a nickname before?
No, never.
What kind of company you been keeping?
No kind of company at all, by the look of him.
Nancy!
Let her in!
Dodge, sort him a bed.
- All right, Spike. - All right, Nance.
A nice woman.
He's taking a right shine to you.
Nancy, my dear.
He wants top whack for these.
Does he indeed? Does he indeed?
Oh, you, what have I said?
Take your hat off when you're eating
or you'll never mix with the gentry, will ya?
- Care of. - Mine.
- Who's this, then? - Found him today.
Oliver. Nollie.
Oliver Nollie? Oliver Nollie?!
That's a funny name, ain't it?
Well, you won't get yourself a girl
if she's going to be called Mrs. Nollie, will ya?
Well, Oliver Nollie, my name is Nancy.
- Do you want a seat, Miss Nancy? - Miss!
You don't call her miss and give her your seat,
she ain't no miss, she ain't all posh, she's just Nancy.
You shut up, you! If wants to call me Miss, he can.
Well, ta ever so, Oliver.
No, I don't mind if I do... rest my feet for a moment.
Yeah, you're a bit of a gent, you, hmm?
Very considerate.
More than can be said for this lot.
They're nickel.
Plate.
And I'm paying over the odds as it is,
and that's only because you and I go back, my dear.
I'm the one that has to give him these pennies.
You might want to think about that sometime, my dear.
Right.
Soppy cow.
See you again, Oliver.
- Bye, boys! - Bye, Nance!
She's a good'un, is Nance.
Me and her, we're like that.
Bill, stop it, he ain't got it, let him go.
Bill, stop it, you're choking him!
Get off me! Ah! Give me what's mine!
Stop it. Put him down or you'll do for him.
- You'll swing for murder, Bill. - For him? I should get a medal.
I don't want to lose my man over this, do I, darlin'?
Come on, Bill. Bill, let him go.
Bill, let him go. Bill! That's it.
You never flamin' learn, do you?
Get the coin!
I'll get it, I'll get it.
What you starin' at?
I'll knock your eyes out your head, you keep starin'.
- Oliver, go back to bed. - I heard you.
I was worried that you were scared.
What were you doing to him?
There ain't nothing to worry about, Oliver.
No one's scared. It's a game.
Bit of a laugh.
Ain't it, Fagin? It's a bit of a laugh.
That's right, Nollie, my dear.
I had a bit of pie
lodged in my gullet.
Mr. Sikes here was helping me to shake it loose.
Unorthodox, yes, but effective.
He's still lookin' at me.
What you lookin' at me for?
He's new, Bill!
He don't know.
Brand-new this very day. How could he know, eh?
Look at the dial on it.
Very flash.
You cut a very fine figure, Nollie.
You sure I can keep these, Mr. Fagin?
I can't pay you.
Small details, my dear. Small details.
- You've got a lot of handkerchiefs. - Yes,
pretty, ain't they?
Handsome.
Put one in your pocket...
Just for a moment.
- In my pocket? - Yes.
See what it feels like to be a gentleman.
Where's all the others?
They're all out grafting, my dear.
- Working. - Doing what?
This and that.
Turning a quid,
earning a crust.
As we all must,
my dear, to put food on the table.
Then, I'll graft too.
Perhaps, my dear, perhaps.
Look in your pocket.
How'd you do that?
Like many things in life,
Nollie, it's easy when you know how.
Eat, eat, eat, eat.
I have errands to run.
He hit someone with a coffin lid?
Unusual!
Why?
This geezer mouthed off against his dead mum.
Eats away at him see,
his dead mum, who she was,
never knew her, he don't even know her name.
But anyone mouths off against her,
he goes bonkers.
Tell yer,
give him a couple of fried eggs, you get his life story.
My ear holes are throbbin'.
- A blabber? - No chance.
Code of the workhouse.
See all, say now,
else someone gets a beating.
He'll keep close, it's all he knows.
A workhouse runaway.
Don't I always spot 'em for yer, Fagey?
- Ain't I got the knack? - Oh, you do, Dodger.
You have an unerring instinct.
You have the knack, my dear.
Got to have your wits about ya.
Be quick on your feet.
Light with your fingers.
And keep your eyes peeled for marks.
- Marks? - Don't ask questions, Nollie,
just watch. There's one.
Asking for it.
Watch and learn.
Anything kicks off, 'ave it on your toes.
My money! Stop that boy!
Grab him!
No, no, not that one, the other boy!
- Watch where you're going! - Over there! - Move it! Come on!
Stop him! Stop him!
Oh, Edward!
They're chasing the wrong boy!
Idiot!!!
First time out and he gets pinched?!
- Where have they taken him? - Court sessions.
You'd better get down there, Fagin.
- Me? - If he peaches on us,
you'll dangle same as me.
Get down there,
at least then we'll have fair warning.
Weren't nothing I could do, Mr. Sikes.
Transport him to the colonies.
Who's next?
If you please, Mr. Fang, your honour, sir,
pickpocket.
Took a gentleman's wallet a mere hour ago.
Name?
Speak up, for the love of God!
What?
He said,"Oliver Twist", sir.
Pickpocket. Blight upon our city.
A plague visited on our citizens.
- Worse than sewer rats. - It wasn't me.
Oh, who was it, then?
Then you acted alone,
from base and venal instincts.
All that is left for me to do is to pass sentence.
Prison...
or the colonies...
or...
How many have I sent to the gallows this week?
22. But it's only Tuesday.
Simple. Hanging it is.
Oliver Twist,
you have been found guilty of the crime of...
Stop!
- You have the wrong boy! - You're too late!
I sent ahead!
I came as fast as I could!
- That is the wrong boy! - I'm passing sentence, sir!
And wrong boy or not,
this is a court of law and justice must be done.
You will be hanged by your neck
until you are dead,
and your mortal remains shall be left to rot
in the common pit.
May God have mercy on your vile and miserable soul.
Oliver?
Good, he's awake.
- You scared him, Mrs. Bedwin. - Am I dead?
- Oh, poor boy. - Am I dead?! Where am I?!
- Who are you?! - I'm Rose.
And you're not dead, Oliver. You're alive.
And you're safe now. You're safe.
Mrs. Bedwin, how is the boy?
Much better, sir. He's got some appetite.
Just about took the pattern off the plate.
Nice to have my good food appreciated,
that's what I say.
Lizzie will serve your lamb.
I've found some old clothes for Oliver.
Uncle, may I be excused?
I hope you've scrubbed behind your ears, young man,
because I'll be checking.
Now, I brought this for you.
It's a bit big,
but at least it's clean.
It's all right.
It don't hurt.
Let me help you.
These are fiddly, aren't they?
I'm pleased to see you much recovered, Oliver.
I hope you will continue to grow stronger.
Thank you, sir.
And thank you for speaking for me at the court.
Well, that was nothing.
Mrs. Bedwin? Is he cross with me?
No, Mr. Brownlow's not cross. It's just his way,
so don't you mind about him.
He never used to be like that though.
He was always a proud man, but
kind and generous,
and, oh, the music and laughter
that used to be in this house.
But there was a tragedy,
and he's never been the same since,
and I'm here to tell you that who's worked for him
these 40 years.
Precious little laughter now
and he can't stand to hear the piano.
Oh, he's still kind,
but it's all locked up tight.
Blames himself, you see.
Not a day goes by when he doesn't curse himself.
What was the tragedy?
The old story, Oliver. Love.
2 people fell in love
and maybe it wasn't approved of,
maybe eyebrows would have been raised,
but to see them together,
plain as day it was real, true love,
and it should have been joyful
and all about weddings and celebrations,
but instead it ended up in heartbreak, grief, loss...
Why?
Oh, listen to me, gossiping on.
I've said too much for your young ears.
Now,
what shall we have for pudding tonight?
Apple pie or cherry?
Both.
Uncle Robert?
- Come on. - Is he really your uncle?
No. I call him that,
but Mr Brownlow's my guardian.
He looked after us,
my sister and I, because we didn't have any family.
No parents.
Where's your sister?
She's not here.
Abide with me
Fast falls the eventide
The darkness deepens
Lord with me abide
Who like thyself
My guide and stay can be
Through cloud and sunshine
Oh abide with me.
Rose?
Let's play something cheerful.
- Oh, sir. I'll tell them to stop. - No, no, no, don't.
Rose plays very well, sir.
She does.
- We'll have to fetch him back. - Why?
He didn't peach on us in the court, he won't peach on us now.
But in front of the Beak, you're scared.
Your voice box is paralysed.
Where he is now, who knows?
A few square meals in him, he could spill.
- Sing like a bird. - Well, he won't.
Leave him where he is, Fagin.
He's got a chance. Just let him be.
But the risk, my dear, the risk is too high.
Well, I don't want no part in it.
You'll do as you're told.
- Will I? - You will,
if you don't want to feel the back of my hand.
Bill, there's no need for backs of hands,
no need at all. No.
And Nancy, it's all very simple.
You wouldn't have to do hardly anything at all.
Hardly a thing.
- Women. - What can you do?
"Oliver Twist."
"My dear Master Twist,
should you wish to solve the mystery
of your sweet sainted mother's identity
and learn of her flawless character
and many good deeds then come to Golden Lane today.
I will be waiting.
I urge you to tell no one.
I remain your faithful servant
and secret friend."
I never paid for your book.
- What's that? - Well, the day
they charged Oliver with being a thief.
Seems that I'm the thief.
And the poor bookseller would like to be paid.
Mrs. Bedwin, would you call for a boy
- to take the money round? - Let me take it.
I'm a boy. Please, let me take it.
You?
You've done so much for me.
I'd like to do something to repay you.
Please let me take it.
Oliver!
Nancy?
You look really well, Oliver. You look smashing.
Oh, I'm sorry. I had a little bit to drink.
Dutch courage. Make me brave.
What d'you need to be brave for?
You just come round the corner with me
- and I'll tell you. - Nancy, I can't.
- I'm meeting someone. - No,
you got to come with me.
- Nancy? - Yeah?
Are you the secret friend?
You're going to find out exactly what I am.
Come on, sweetheart.
Get off of me!
- Get off of me! - Oh, don't he wriggle!
I hate you, I hate the lot of you!
Get off! Get off of me!
Stop it!
- Get off of me! - Right. Oh, letters.
Ain't you gone up in the world, son?
That's it, my boy, jab and weave,
jab and weave, Nollie.
Keep your dukes up, son!
Bill, Bill, Bill, enough! Enough!
Let me out! Let me out of here!
Let me out!
Let me out of here!
I could cosh him, that'd shut him up.
He'll tire soon enough, Bill.
Anyway, who's here to hear?
- Let me out of here! - Good work, Nance.
Let me out! Let me out of here!
Let me out, let me out!
Let me out of here!
Get off of me.
Fagin's up to something.
He's got something going on, I know it.
He never went to the bookseller's.
Something must have happened.
He had money in his pocket,
and good clothes on his back.
- Just a thief after all. - No, Uncle, not Oliver.
We were taken in by a thief.
- Uncle... - Rose, I don't want to hear
another word on the matter! Not another word!
Out for the count.
Dead to the world.
Here's the boy. Oliver Twist.
What would you have me do with him,
Mr. Monks?
I want him dead.
I want him wiped off the face of the earth.
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