Original subtitles

Woman: I hate those stories that begin with a funeral.

But I'm afraid this one started the day we buried George.

Not that we buried him.

In the interests of the environment,

we had him incinerated.

My children conducted the service.

They believe in the environment.

But they don't believe in priests or vicars.

Our father died playing golf.

On the long 15th,

but right in the middle of the fairway.

We thank him for being a terrific father...

and grandfather.

It was his wish that we invite you all

to raise a glass to his memory

in the clubhouse after the ceremony.

And it was also his wish

that he should leave us accompanied

by some of the music he loved best.

(click)

♪ For I am the Pirate King ♪

♪ He is Hurrah for the Pirate King ♪

♪ And it is, it is a glorious thing to be a Pirate King ♪

♪ For I am the Pirate King ♪

♪ You are Hurrah for the Pirate King ♪

♪ And it is, it is a glorious thing to be a Pirate... ♪

Are you all right?

As well as can be expected.

If you want to cry, go ahead.

I just hate this fucking tune.

(swing music playing)

♪ I'll be glad when you're gone, you rascal, you ♪

(whooping, cheering)

♪ I'll be glad when you're gone, you rascal, you ♪

♪ When you're dead and your grave cold ♪

♪ No more women will you crave ♪

♪ I'll be glad when you're gone ♪

♪ Glad when you're gone ♪

♪ Glad when you're gone, you rascal, you ♪

Can't hang about.

Apparently they have one of these every 20 minutes

at this time of year.

Well, who's gonna tell her?

I'll go.

(chuckling, sniffing)

What was that about the music?

Well, when I was 15, we lived near a dance hall

and there was a band.

And some girls used to sing a song called

"I'll Be Glad When You're Dead, You Rascal, You."

Never heard of it.

And when they started to play

that sentimental rubbish in the crematorium,

I shut my ears and that's what I heard.

Together: "I'll Be Glad When You're Dead, You Rascal, You."

Yes, and I got a bit of the giggles, I'm very ashamed.

Was Grandpa a rascal?

No.

He was anything but.

You may disagree, but--

No, I know what you mean.

But he was kind, wasn't he?

I mean, he would always pat me on the head

and give me a pound.

You and me both, sweetheart.

You all right now?

Can you cope with the wake?

Of course I can, dear.

Lead me to the golfers.

(giggles)

Man (on radio): This is the BBC General Forces program.

London suffered the heaviest bombardment

since the 1940-41 blitz last night in German air raids

over the capital.

About 175 enemy planes made scattered and indiscriminate

attacks on London, the Home Counties,

southeast England and East Anglia.

London's guns were, again, in action.

And the heaviest barrels of the war

was put up to counter when enemies attack.

(radio continues)

Sorry. (indistinct)

There you are, keep the change.

Cheers, love. Have a good day.

(horn honks)

(guitar music playing)

(children chattering)

Oh! (groans)

(playing rock riff)

So, uh...

have you made any plans, Mum?

I think I'll go for the creme brulee.

Oh, no, uh...

I didn't mean about the pudding.

I meant...

Oh, life after death.

Well, yes, I suppose so.

Well, life goes on much as it did when your father was alive.

I still go to the library twice a week.

I still watch the quiz programs on television every afternoon.

Sometimes I get the answers right.

I go out every Thursday with my children

to some trendy restaurant.

And I weep when necessary.

Oh, and I look after Joanna

when her parents want to expand their horizons.

That's enough life for a woman half my age.

Can you have her on Friday?

We've got tickets to "The Magic Flute."

Fine, I'll cancel my darts night.

You don't play darts.

(laughing)

Oh, isn't that lovely?

Edward: What?

If your pulse doesn't quicken when you hear

Hoagy Carmichael's "Stardust,"

then I have clearly failed as a mother.

(sighs)

Thank you for lunch, my children.

I'll see you next Thursday.

Do you think she's turning into a dotty old woman?

(chuckles)

She's always done it.

You talk to her and she makes all the right noises

but she isn't listening to you at all.

She's listening to something going on inside her head.

Whatever she's listening to now is just a bit further away.

(playing "Stardust")

You're much too young to know those tunes.

What makes you think I know them?

You screwed up the changes into the middle eight.

It was a good try.

You some sort of critic?

No, don't worry.

It's only if the audience notices you're in trouble.

(chuckles)

(humming)

Don't give up.

♪ ♪

(saxophone playing)

(saxophone continuing)

(saxophone continuing)

I didn't see you there.

That was amazing.

Thank you.

May I touch?

Well, of course.

I didn't know.

Huh?

Remember that dance hall I told you about?

"You Rascal, You."

Well, I played in the band.

Did women do that then?

What do you know about the war?

The 1939-45?

We beat Germany one-nil?

It was an upside down world.

Women drove ambulances and worked in shipyards and...

I played in a band.

We called ourselves The Blonde Bombshells.

Were you a star?

Well, we played on the wireless once.

You were a star.

Yes, damn it, I was a star.

(slow swing music)

Joanna: Grandma, why did you stop?

Elizabeth: I stopped when the war stopped.

Then I was a wife and a mother and a grandmother.

It's just something I did before I grew up.

But you carried on playing.

Well, I used to practice

when your grandpa was out playing golf.

But you're the first person to hear me for--

Dear God...

nearly half a century.

That's terrible.

Joanna...

I need your advice.

I'll try.

What's the best way of showing respect for the dead?

That's easy. You go on living.

Mmm.

(playing swing music)

You're truly amazing.

You're too good to be busking.

I'm too old to have any other ambitions.

Why don't you take half?

Look...

We play twice a week and you buy the drinks, okay?

Okay.

I think this might be for you.

Why?

'Cause it says, "Fancy a bit of fun, dearie?"

Well, why should it be for me?

If you say 'cause I'm a woman,

I'll smash you over the head with your guitar.

My glass is empty.

Same again?

Please. Let's have a look at that.

Paul: Green tea, and a pint of Bitter, please.

Do you?

Sorry?

Fancy a bit of fun?

Do you mind?

It is Elizabeth, isn't it?

Well, don't you remember?

Metropole Ballroom?

"Moonlight Serenade"?

"Boogie-woogie, Bugle Boy From Company B"?

Patrick.

You see, you do remember.

The man we were all warned about.

Well...

At least offer me the hand of friendship.

I might never see it again.

(chuckles)

(soft guitar music)

If you're gonna do that,

you might as well learn to play it properly.

I was just trying to catch the spirit of the moment.

Are you gonna introduce me?

Paul...

down-and-out street musician,

Patrick, venerable friend and war hero.

Ta. That's cool. What did you do in the war, Patrick?

I was a Blonde Bombshell.

♪ When you're dead and your grave cold ♪

♪ No more women will you crave ♪

♪ I'll be glad when you're gone ♪

♪ Glad when you're gone ♪

♪ Glad when you're gone, you rascal, you... ♪

Here, let me take that.

Oh!

Would you believe I recognized the way you play?

That sound.

Sensual, erotic.

Don't be silly.

What are you doing around here?

The betting shop.

I'll give you a lift.

In that?

We'll drop off at my place.

C'mon.

Well--

(sighs)

Don't worry about all that.

It's my concessionary parking system.

(laughing)

Whoops, you in?

Yeah.

Hello.

(indistinct radio chatter)

(radio chatter continues)

Patrick: So, how come a nice girl like you

is reduced to working the streets?

Oh, it's because I said "fuck" at George's funeral.

(Patrick laughs)

Um, I assume George is your late, lamented husband?

Yes.

He treat you well?

Well, he was kind and decent and generous and law abiding.

Boring?

Mind your own business.

Thought so.

(brakes squealing)

This is where you live?

Yes, it's...

Well, they call it Grace and Favor residence.

My father had the grace to die

and did me the favor of leaving it to me.

Elizabeth: Thank you.

I would be deeply honored

if you would step across the threshold

and let my woodworm see you.

Hi, Patrick. Hello, darling.

Didn't know you had a secret.

(clearing throat)

How's the masterpiece?

Bloody arm came off. (chuckles)

Who exactly is "darling"?

Carol. Lodger. Art student.

She's got a-- Man: Tomorrow, 4:00,

Hereford, Billie's Bounce.

Shirt. Noted.

Ma'am.

Two artists.

Ex-jockey, tipster in residence.

Known as The Wee Man.

And banned from every race course in the country.

But the real glory is to be found downstairs

in my personal crypt.

There is something very special

that I want to share with you.

What a surprise.

Oh, don't be silly. I never go all the way on the first date.

(gasps)

The same kit? Yes.

Of course, I remember the roses.

Do you still play?

Only when nobody listens.

(sighs)

Patrick: You were really pretty.

Elizabeth: So were you.

Why did you do this?

Because working with The Blonde Bombshells

was the happiest time of my life.

Life's been that bad?

Oh, I've been to prison once,

married twice, bankrupt three times.

Oh, ain't you got fun? Yeah, lots of fun.

(Elizabeth chuckles softly)

Patrick: But those were the days.

Best days.

And I'll bet you a dollar to a donut you think so too.

Well, if I had bet that it's like admitting

I've wasted most of my life.

Well, go ahead, admit it.

I've wasted mine and enjoyed every minute of it.

Well, I can't tell a lie.

Only recently I was showing off

to my granddaughter about being on the wireless.

Oh, that was your fault

for being beautiful and talented.

Oh, yes, I remember.

(playing slow swing song)

(applause)

Excuse me.

You do play awfully well.

Thank you. Is this bastard bothering you?

I'm from the BBC.

Oh, beg your pardon.

I took you for a civilian. Yes.

Back to your place, sweetheart.

BBC Man: It's simply that I wonder whether you and your orchestra

would be interested in broadcasting.

I have to say that girl plays beautifully.

She's better than many a chap.

And a lot prettier.

And it would be a joy and a delight

to do business with you.

Give me 30 seconds to wind them up and set them going.

The next dance will be a quick step.

Take it away, girls.

A one, a two, a one, two, three, four.

(playing "Don't Sit Under the Apple Tree")

Come to the dressing room.

We'll compare our...

arrangements.

Patrick: "Take it away, girls."

Nobody ever says that now.

Elizabeth: Long time since we were girls.

Well, I suppose technically speaking I never was.

You know, I've been thinking about it

more and more since the funeral.

We were heroic for a while.

But nobody told us.

Right! When shall we two meet again, Sunday lunch?

I'm taking my granddaughter to the zoo on Sunday.

Are you still sexually active?

What? I love zoos.

(trumpeting)

You were the only man in the band?

Yep. One guy and all those chicks.

Oh, do you mind? I'm not and never have been a chick.

How did you get the job?

Well, they couldn't find a girl to play the drums.

So a quiet word with Betty the band-leader,

two pairs of nylon stockings, and the job was mine.

Also he was on the run.

Also I was on the run.

(playing mid-tempo swing music)

(no audible dialogue)

Friends of yours.

I'll be in the pub.

Mother, it doesn't strike you that

what you're doing is, well...

just a little bit humiliating?

Well, you try it.

Last week we had a request from a tourist

for the Japanese National Anthem.

That's humiliating.

So, we gave him "One Fine Day" from "Madama Butterfly"

and a joke about Pearl Harbor.

(laughing)

But it implies that you're broke.

And that we're not looking after you properly.

I'm not doing it for the money.

Paul keeps the money.

It's art. For art's sake.

Leslie: And you do play very nicely.

But why don't you play as a hobby?

Whereabouts?

The old folks' home after bingo?

Edward: What do we tell people?

Tell them the truth.

Tell them the old bat's gone gaga.

Oh, tell them to screw themselves.

Oh, Mother, for godsake!

For godsake what?

Shut up, Edward!

Believe me, we do understand.

We know how you feel.

But you can't understand

because I don't understand myself.

I remember about feelings.

I remember playing in the band in the Metropole Ballroom,

"Mairzy Doats and Dozy Dotes,"

and knowing that at any minute

a large bomb could fall on my head

and blow us all to hell and back.

And the house rules said,

"You had to finish the tune

before you went to the air raid shelter."

And that, my children,

is how you learn about real feelings.

I was more alive at that time than before or since.

That's an alarming thing to discover at my age.

I don't understand it, I don't expect you to.

(door opens)

Here's my lift.

Mom...

What-- who's he?

My fancy man.

There appears to be a man in her life.

Sorry to interrupt.

That man with the flowers, who is he?

Some old transvestite I think.

(swing music playing)

Elizabeth: Do you know where you're going?

Patrick: Of course I do.

I don't remember this tunnel.

Oh, well.

So, the Metropole Ballroom,

scene of our youthful happiness,

is now a carpet warehouse.

♪ A kiddley divey too ♪

♪ Wouldn't you ♪

♪ If the words sound queer ♪

♪ And funny to your ear ♪

♪ A little bit jumbled and jivey ♪

♪ Sing mares eat oats ♪

♪ And does eat oats ♪

♪ And little lambs eat ivy ♪

♪ Mairzy doats and dozy doats ♪

♪ And little lambs eat ivy ♪

♪ A kiddle divey too ♪

♪ Wouldn't you ♪

♪ A kiddle divey too ♪

♪ Wouldn't you ♪

I lied to my children.

Good. How else can they learn?

I told them we went on playing

even when the bombs were falling.

No, we didn't. We ran like buggery to the air raid shelter.

♪ Mairzy doats and dozy doats ♪

♪ And little lambs eat ivy ♪

♪ A kiddle divey too ♪

♪ Wouldn't you ♪

♪ A kiddle divey too ♪

♪ Wouldn't you ♪

Do you know what would be lovely?

What?

To see them all again.

Don't be silly.

Maybe even to play together.

You should be put in a darkened room.

C'mon.

(announcer speaking indistinctly)

(dogs barking)

(indistinct shouting)

It's brilliant and it's all the rage.

What are you talking about?

Reunion bands. I mean, you've got The Stones,

The Who, Status Quo.

All those wrinklies from the '60s,

they're always having reunion concerts

and going on world tours.

So, why not The Blonde Bombshells?

So, where shall we play?

The Albert Hall, Shea Stadium,

Hollywood Bowl?

You can play at our next school dance.

I'm on the committee.

Let's just assume for the sake of argument

that we track down the survivors of the band

and prop them up in a line.

And they play some fragments

of ancient music, who would listen?

I would.

BBC Announcer: This is the BBC General Forces program.

The BBC is proud to present the most glamorous band

in all the land...

The Blonde Bombshells.

One, two, three, four.

Take it away--

(upbeat swing music plays)

Elizabeth: How many cars do you own?

Many as I can borrow.

Do we have to do this?

Yes, we do.

Then we're gonna need lots of flowers.

Well, we can use the money you lost at the dogs.

(chuckles)

Elizabeth: Vera.

Vera.

Do you remember me?

Elizabeth.

And Patrick, you remember him.

The Blonde Bombshells in the war.

Adolph Hitler, Winston Churchill, Tommy Handley.

You played the alto sax, remember?

We sang like the Andrews Sisters.

"Don't Fence Me In."

"Mairzy Doats and Dozy Doats."

♪ Pardon me, boy, is that the Chattanooga choo-choo ♪

♪ Track twenty nine ♪ Vera.

Elizabeth: Alas, poor Vera.

Alas, poor Joan.

Oh, the roses.

How lovely.

Well, at least you remembered us, Evelyn.

Oh, I remember you.

(door slams)

You were always pretty.

And I remember him,

he was always flash. So, uh...

What are you in for?

(door slams)

Legal tender.

Is that an offense?

Well, getting things if you haven't got any legal tender,

that's an offense.

Do you get to play any music?

There's a bird, comes in once a week.

Teaches what she calls musical therapy.

But I never let on.

You need your secrets in a place like this.

Thanks for the flowers, they're lovely.

Oh, look.

A petal's fallen off already.

Elizabeth: Alas, poor Evelyn.

This is all a ghastly mistake.

Guided tours of the cemeteries of England

and goodwill missions to the living dead.

Oh ye of little faith.

C'mon, look.

(playing slow march)

Annie.

Annie!

Two old sinners want to say hello. (chuckling)

Elizabeth!

And you...

You're looking good, sister.

That's because I am good.

And how long has this goodness been going on?

Since I dumped you, brother.

You'll find that God is much better value in the long term.

Are you looking for salvation?

Not exactly. We're trying to get the band together again.

Band?

I'm sorry, I don't play that kind of music anymore.

It's for my granddaughter.

It's not negotiable, I'm sorry.

It's-- I told you, it's a ghastly--

Oh.

Um, you got any small change?

Sorry. Sorry.

Well...

I've had him checked out.

My God, you sound like the FBI.

The man used to run a casino.

He's an undischarged bankrupt and he's been to prison.

I can do better than that.

She's rounding up her geriatric Blonde Bombshells

and threatening to play at Joanna's school dance.

So, where would you like to run away to today?

It's your turn to choose.

Hastings, please.

There's racing at Goodwood.

Yes, I know, but I've chosen Hastings.

Betty the band leader lives at Hastings.

She's expecting me with a friend--

(shouts in surprise)

I'm her ex-husband for godsake.

I know that.

I'm sure she'll be perfectly civilized about it.

This is Betty we're talking about.

We're going to need a band leader.

That's reasonable, isn't it?

I'm not very good at reasonable.

Well, try harder.

(up-tempo piano music playing)

(seagulls calling)

(piano playing continues)

Woman: Nice one, Betty. Man: Yeah, go Betty!

(laughing)

(cheers and applause)

Thank you, music lovers.

Now, in response to many requests,

there will be a short period of silence.

Betty.

The one and only. (laughs)

There'll never be another.

Oh, darling.

You haven't changed a bit.

More than I can say for you, you old sod.

Thanks. Come, let's have a drink.

And something for my friends.

Vodka and tonic, please.

Glenlivet, little water, please.

The old gentleman will pay.

You were the star, you know.

You were the youngest, the sweetest,

and the most talented of The Blonde Bombshells.

You were also the only virgin.

You had me to thank for that.

Really? Should I be grateful?

(laughing)

(slow dance music playing)

(air raid sirens wailing)

(music stops)

(indistinct chatter)

(explosion)

You frightened or just cold?

Both.

Stay close to me, darling.

Mr. Churchill recommends it.

Here.

(explosion)

Actually, I've got the keys to the boiler house.

Patrick: It's nice and warm in there.

Oy!

Betty--

I didn't see you there. Elizabeth, sit.

You, here.

The girl is 15 years old.

You try anything with her, you go to prison.

Also, I will take my garden shears

and personally castrate you.

All right, I can take a hint.

When's her birthday?

(slapping) Ow!

I don't know why I ran a band.

Most of the girls were a bleeding nightmare.

They were always very nice to me.

That's because you were young and innocent.

All right.

I'll show you something young and innocent.

If you tell anyone about this, I'll kill you.

You old softy.

I can still get into this, you know, size 14, short legs.

Who was this little girl?

What became of her?

What's it like... long marriage?

I've only had two little ones.

It's warm and cozy like an old pair of shoes...

or a wet dog.

It's only after the kids leave home,

that you realize--

Well, there are no surprises anymore.

Hmm.

Mind you, a lot of people don't want surprises.

Do you?

I'm not sure.

I might be developing a taste for them.

Mm-hmm.

Elizabeth: Betty's in Hastings,

Anna's in the arms of Jesus,

Joan's dead.

Vera's deranged.

Evelyn's in prison.

Madeleine's missing in action.

Dinah's somewhere in the States,

and I've left numerous messages for Gwen.

So, is there a band or is there not a band?

I need to know what to tell the committee.

Tell them there is no band. Tell them to hire a magician.

We can always pay off Evelyn's debts and get her out of the nick.

That would make four.

What about Annie?

I know these Christians.

If they say no, they mean it.

What about pieces of silver?

That is a totally evil suggestion.

So, please think about it.

(phone ringing)

Hello. Yes, speaking.

Gwen?! Joanna: Gwen!

I can't tell you how wonderful it is to speak to someone

who's sane and alive and not in custody.

Do you know the way to Wolverhampton?

If you can whistle it... Together: I can play it.

(laughing)

Nobody goes to Wolverhampton out of season.

You need passports, malaria jabs,

sturdy boots, an armed escort. Don't be silly.

It'll be wonderful to see Gwen.

No, it won't, it'll be horrible.

♪ On the board again ♪

♪ Riding for a fall again ♪

♪ And I'm gonna get my all again ♪

♪ Taking a chance on love ♪

♪ I'm feeling fine and dandy ♪

♪ I'm gonna rise and shine again ♪

♪ I've almost lost my mind again ♪

♪ Taking a chance on love ♪

♪ Boy, I'm booked again ♪

She's still terrific.

I know, she was my second wife.

Sorry? Nothing.

♪ Taking a chance on love ♪

♪ This game, I'm having a crack at ♪

♪ Needs good love from me ♪

♪ So I'm taking a whack ♪

♪ At any black cat I see ♪

♪ All the breeze again ♪

♪ And though I'd love to please again ♪

♪ I'll sing a new reprise ♪

♪ Again ♪

♪ So ring down the curtain ♪

♪ It's love for certain ♪

♪ I'm taking a chance ♪

♪ On love ♪

♪ Taking another chance on love ♪

(applause)

Emcee (on microphone): Thank you very much.

You don't play anymore?

No, I retired when all those trumpet players

came home from the war wanting their jobs back.

The men. You know what I mean.

Besides it was hard on the lips, babe.

I stick to the singing.

No more triple tonguing.

That ceased to be your business long ago.

Is it your business now, Elizabeth?

Absolutely not.

Our sole purpose is to get the band together again.

You got a gig?

Patrick: Mmm. First of next month.

What is it?

It's my granddaughter's school dance.

(giggling)

A school dance?

I never played school dances even when I was at school.

Well, we're starting rehearsals next week.

Sweetheart, I have sung for my supper for half a lifetime.

And I've done it all without rehearsals.

I turn up at the gig, I moan about the piano,

I hand out the parts, I count the guys in and I get on with it.

Make it a social call.

Come and see the girls.

There'll be a fight.

Well, come and see the fight.

(drumroll)

Do yourself a favor, babe, get rid of this man.

Why, what's wrong with him, apart from the obvious things?

Emcee: Please welcome Gwen back to the stage.

Ask him about the roses.

(applause)

A one, a two, a one, two, three.

(out of tune playing)

All right, stop, stop, stop, stop!

Now, that was terrible. Somebody was out of tune.

We were all out of tune. I was in tune.

Yes, but you still can't count to four.

How did it sound for you, darling?

I can see why the Germans bombed you.

See, we've got no top line, no bottom line,

and there's bugger all in the middle.

I know we can't have a double bass--

Why not?

There's one in the picture.

That's Madeleine, she's French.

She left the band and went back to Paris to join the resistance.

That's the last we've heard of her.

That's sad.

Patrick: Oh, well, we'll have to manage without her I suppose.

That's not good enough.

You were war heroes, I think you should try harder.

Hmm.

Hmm.

Where are you going?

(band playing)

No.

Thank you, dear.

What are you collecting for?

The poor, the sick and the dispossessed.

You don't qualify.

Could the poor, the sick, and the dispossessed

use 259 pounds?

Because if you take this slip into that betting shop,

they will give you 259 pounds.

I don't gamble. You haven't.

I was the one that gambled on a double at Newmarket.

The wages of sin.

You have my word.

The races on this occasion were not fixed.

You know I can't take this.

Remember the parable of the talents?

Matthew: Chapter 25?

"He that had received the five talents

traded with them and made with them five more."

And the Lord said, "Well done now, good and faithful servant."

Now, that's got to be an even money shot

whichever way you look at it.

If I take this,

what do I have to do?

Whatever the good Lord in his infinite wisdom tells you.

I hope that he would suggest you multiply your talent.

And spread its sweetness across all the Earth.

(buzzing trombone)

(out of tune, off-tempo playing)

Stop! Stop, stop, stop, stop.

Oh, dear.

It's amazing.

The more we rehearse, the worse we sound.

Well?

The committee meets tonight.

What do I tell them?

Well, tell them we need a good lead trumpet

so at least the punters will guess what we're trying to play.

I found this old Christmas card from Dinah.

Was there anyone finer?

She married a GI and moved to the States.

"I dumped him and found me one or two more."

Oh, she's been living in Scotland.

Scotland?

I've been phoning her number in New York,

getting some very rude answers.

"The last one was rich and when he died, he left me this place.

His hobby was collecting small countries."

The jammy cow!

Do you mind? Language.

So, what do I tell the committee?

Tell them we'll play.

Joanna: Are you sure? No, but tell them we'll play.

Yes, but have you heard the latest?

She's going to Scotland with him.

I think we should meet the man.

Well, you know me. I've always had a thing about older men.

That's not a nice word to use to your sister.

♪ Don't sit under the apple tree ♪

♪ With anyone else but me ♪

♪ Anyone else but me ♪

♪ Anyone else but me ♪

♪ No, no, no ♪

♪ Don't sit under the apple tree ♪

♪ With anyone else but me ♪

♪ Till I come marching home ♪

That is some sort of band!

Oh!

Hey, would you come and play for the GIs?

I mean, we'd guarantee a convoy down, of course.

Well, I say it would be an honor to be of service to Mr. Roosevelt.

Uh, excuse me...

Are you a chap?

Yes, that's why I pee standing up.

You're a young fellow, shouldn't you be in the Armed Forces?

Absolutely not.

I've taken advice.

Dressed like this, I'd be far too easy a target.

You just bought yourself a one-way ticket to Shitsville, pal.

Let go! Where are you taking him?

Elizabeth! Patrick?

Please, you can't!

Patrick!

That lad ought to be ashamed of himself.

Look, what's he supposed to have done?

Elizabeth, you play beautifully, sensual, erotic!

Can anybody play the drums?

Well, I've picked up the odd hint

that you're unhappy about my friendship with Patrick.

So, here he is.

And he's very happy to explain himself.

I think it isn't the friendship as such, it's just...

too soon.

Too soon after your father's death.

At a time when I'm still emotionally vulnerable.

Well, yes.

That being so, Elizabeth should not be consorting

with an aging Lothario.

Even though he sends me flowers two or three times a week.

My concern is about you making terrible fools of yourselves...

and of us at the school dance.

Patrick will answer all the charges.

May I offer the case for the defense?

Please, we're here to listen.

Thank you.

Well, I'll start with the easy bit.

It's true that in the beginning I wore a pretty frock

and I played "Run Rabbit Run" when I was one of those rabbits

and I was running.

(laughing) And later on, after I donned the khaki,

I did win some medals.

You won medals? Can we see them?

I always carry this one as a good luck charm.

I was carrying it the day I met your grandmother

again after all these years.

Is it a good one? Leslie: Yes, it is.

It's a Military Cross.

Joanna: Seriously brilliant.

But it's all irrelevant.

What you have to understand is that for six years,

we all lived with the possibility that

every second of the day and night,

we could be killed.

And that focuses the mind.

It's frightening, yes, but it's also liberating.

The ultimate gamble,

the biggest crap game ever invented.

And your mother and I...

we feel guilty.

Do we? How many died?

20, 30 million?

And yet for some of us who survived,

it was totally wonderful.

Hmm.

Patrick: Totally wonderful, true or false?

True.

And we can't say it out loud

except to other Blonde Bombshells.

Elizabeth: And playing at the dance,

well, that's our little attempt to have one last gamble

before we shuffle off to the great Metropole Ballroom in the sky.

Hmm.

That was very impressive.

When did you win the Military Cross?

Um, I, I forget exactly, 1963, '4.

Which war?

Well, actually, I won it at poker,

from an old war hero down on his luck.

That's despicable.

I was desperate.

I want your family to like me.

What the hell is that?

This belongs to Sid.

Well, who's Sid, another weird lodger?

He used to be my partner in the casino

until he decided to go straight.

Now, he sells used cars.

I told him, "Sid...

"I need to borrow a really special motor

to take a really special someone to Scotland."

Oh, well you can thank Sid very much,

but I'm not coming with you.

What?

I got my credit card statement this morning. So?

All those flowers you've been sending me,

you've been charging to my bloody credit card.

Well, obviously.

I mean, I'm not allowed one, am I?

And I only spent the money on you.

Well, how did you get the number?

I used my initiative.

You looked in my handbag.

You make it sound horrible.

It is horrible.

You're pathetic.

All right, all right, I apologize.

I'm devastated, I should have asked your permission.

Oh, shut your face, go to Scotland,

and come back with a trumpet player.

It won't be the same without you.

Well, go to the dogs, go to Wolverhampton, go to hell!

I don't care!

Such a pity, you know.

Sleeping beauties generally weigh in at 100 years.

And the usual arrangement

is for the frog to turn into the prince.

Not the other way around.

(sighing)

Eh.

(latch clicking)

Bloody door.

(Scottish music intro)

♪ For you take the high road ♪

♪ And I'll take the low road ♪

♪ And I'll be in Scotland before ye ♪

♪ But me and my true love ♪

♪ Will never meet again ♪

♪ On the bonnie bonnie banks of Loch Lomond ♪

♪ By yon bonnie banks ♪

♪ And by yon bonnie braes ♪

♪ Where the sun shines bright ♪

♪ On the clovers ♪

♪ Where me and my true love ♪

♪ Will never meet again... ♪

♪ On the bonnie bonnie banks of Loch Lomond ♪

♪ Oh, you take the high road ♪

♪ And I'll take the low road ♪

♪ And I'll be in Scotland before ye ♪

♪ But me and my true love will never meet again ♪

♪ On the bonnie bonnie banks of Loch Lomond ♪

♪ Oh, you take the high road ♪

♪ And I'll take the low road ♪

♪ And I'll be in Scotland before ye ♪

♪ But me and my true love will never meet again ♪

♪ On the bonnie bonnie banks of Loch Lomond ♪

♪ Loch Lomond ♪

(indistinct)

Patrick: Pardon?

You'll be the gentleman.

And this will be your suitcase.

And you will be chilly, I dare say.

Yes, it's just possible.

Sure. This will help.

Oh, thank you so much. Thank you.

(dogs barking)

Oh, great dogs.

Patti, Maxine...

and Laverne.

After the Andrews Sisters.

Um, one of them is a boy.

The lady of the house is most insistent

in the matter of names.

Good God.

When did you get here?

The overnight sleeper.

Central heating and a roof.

Does this mean I'm forgiven?

Absolutely not.

I didn't think you'd come.

But we needed a trumpet player

and I didn't trust you to deliver one.

I wouldn't trust you to deliver a bottle of semi-skimmed milk.

Thanks so much.

Have you seen Dinah?

Apparently, the lady of the house doesn't appear

in the hours of daylight.

She's probably bricked up in the west wing.

As soon as the gentleman has finished his wee dram,

I'll show him to his accommodation.

We have prepared two bedrooms.

The lady of the house is of the opinion

you would require only one.

How many rooms would you be requiring?

Two, please.

Would they be adjoining for personal preference?

No, they should be separated by a wide stretch of water,

for personal preference.

Thank you, McNab.

Ma'am.

Thank you, Dinah, that was a wonderful meal.

It's a nice little place you've got here.

I married well and frequently.

But I know all the dirt on me.

I want to know the dirt on you.

Does this mean you've completed the set, Patrick?

There's no dirt on us. We're pure as the driven snow.

I hate snow.

It's so goddamned white.

(Patrick laughs)

What you mean, completed the set?

He hasn't told you about the roses on the drum kit?

No, I've tended to go off flowers recently.

As it happens.

Are you going to tell her or shall I?

Well...

Actually, I got the idea from the Spitfire Pilots

during the war.

(cheering)

♪ Pardon me, boy, is that the Chattanooga choo choo ♪

♪ Track 29 ♪

♪ Boy, you can give me a shine ♪

♪ I can afford to board the Chattanooga choo choo ♪

♪ I got my fare ♪

♪ And just the travel to spare ♪

♪ You leave the Pennsylvania station ♪

♪ About a quarter to four ♪

♪ Read a magazine and then you're in Baltimore ♪

♪ Dinner in a diner, nothing could be finer ♪

♪ Than to have your ham and eggs in Carolina♪

♪ When you hear the whistle blowin' ♪

♪ Eight to the bar ♪

♪ Then you know that Tennessee is not very far ♪

♪ Shovel all the coal in ♪

♪ Gotta keep it rollin' ♪

♪ Woo-woo, Chattanooga, there you are ♪

Yeah, he screwed the lot of us.

I suppose I looked upon it as my contribution to the war effort.

Dinah: And what about the fight?

Never mind about the adolescent sex and the fights.

What about the music?

What you tell me is that The Blonde Bombshell reunion band

thus far comprises you two,

a foul-mouthed piano player,

an alto player out of the slammer on bail,

a trombone player in the arms of Jesus,

ade facto two corpses,

and a singer who won't show up on the night.

And not forgetting your lovely self.

Do you still play?

(sighs)

Do I still play?

A little story.

My grandson plays trumpet in his high school band

in Boston, Massachusetts.

On a recent visit to Grandma's magic castle

in downtown Brigadoon,

he consulted me, I gave him a lesson

and guess what?

I can still blow this thing.

I can still part the waters

and bring down the walls of the city.

(playing expertly)

(barking)

(sustained note)

That's seriously brilliant.

(Gwen breathing heavily)

(groans)

(thud) (dog whimpers)

Sadly, the lady is an officially recognized alcoholic.

Does this often happen?

McNab: Every night.

But she knows she is an alcoholic

and apparently that's the first step towards a cure.

How long's it been going on?

Since the second World War.

An unhappy love affair, seemingly.

Men can be swine.

McNab: So I'm led to believe.

(sighs)

Elizabeth.

What? Whisper.

Um, I need to ask you something.

Patrick.

Do you mind if I sit down?

(scoffs) It's been a long day.

And I'm not cold and I'm not frightened.

And there are no bombs falling.

Scotland's not at war.

And I have no intention of completing your set.

No. What's it like being a woman?

What?

Well...

Sit down.

Well, you see, the last weeks

I've relived quite a lot of my past life.

And most of it seems to have been a bit of a shambles.

Well, that was well spotted. (chuckles)

And I think quite a lot of that shambles could have been avoided

if I tried a bit harder to understand women.

Which is odd since I pretended to be one for so long.

But...

Well, that doesn't really help.

I mean, women-- well, you're different, aren't you?

Yes, we have babies and husbands and washing machines.

Uh... I see your family and...

I see three generations of women and it's lovely.

Wish I had generations.

Much too late for that.

It's too late for everything, actually.

No, not everything.

But I'm going to bed now.

Why did you marry George?

Patrick.

You know what it was like.

When I was a young woman,

your sole purpose in life was to get engaged

to a young man with prospects,

so, I did. I met him at a staff dance.

A dance, what was the band like?

Oh, lousy.

Jimmy Dickenson and his Rhythm Rascals.

I was a Rhythm Rascal once.

Now I'm serious and responsible.

And I think I'm in love with you.

No, you're not.

You're just cold and frightened.

Goodnight, Patrick.

Night night.

(sighs)

(indistinct, distant shouting)

Patrick: Nice doggies. Stay home and look after the lady.

She's a fine musician, but she's not very well.

(dogs bark)

Hey, where the hell are you guys going?

London, we've got a gig.

And I'm held prisoner here against my will.

Wait, I'm coming down!

God, she's coming with us.

What should we do, head for the hills?

These are the hills.

(dog howling)

(thunder)

(children chattering)

(discordant notes)

Joanna: Stage management, up the ladder.

Hi, guys.

Sound check in 10 minutes, okay?

Patrick: Right. Now you go.

Well, this is it, D-Day.

Are you nervous?

No, terrified. (giggling)

Betty: Any news on Dinah?

Yes, she's happily ensconced in the Savoy Hotel.

We saw her at breakfast.

She was planning on ordering a small distillery

from room service for later on.

Oh, God.

I'm in charge of catering and Leslie's doing decorations.

Oh, hi, Leslie.

You're working well.

The decor's gonna be a wow.

Oh, I don't really like wows.

Hey, what manner of place is this?

This is where we're gonna make sweet music.

Forget it, she's here.

Evelyn! Dinah!

You're looking good for a jailbird.

I've been rehabilitated.

Annie!

Dinah, good to see you.

Betty.

Glad you could make it, Dinah.

Ah, the famous roses.

Oh, him and his bloody roses.

Just for the record, mine is quite definitely there

under false pretenses.

I'd been drinking.

I don't remember very much about it.

Far as I can recall it was deeply embarrassing

and desperately quick.

It was horrible.

I try not to think about it.

I haven't seen you guys since the big fight.

Oh, look, will somebody tell me about the big fight?

It was the day we were gonna play for the Yanks.

You couldn't come. They wouldn't allow you off school.

(indistinct shouting)

Dinah: They're keen. Soldier: Hey, sweetcakes!

I love Americans.

Soldier: Hey, blondie, over here! Not like the boys back home.

Marry me, I love you!

Betty: Girls, calm down.

Hi, girls.

Together: Hello.

Welcome to New Jersey on Thames.

It's a pleasure to be here.

A pleasure to be here.

Yeah, well, that remains to be seen.

See, we've got a slight technical difficulty.

Uh-oh. Betty: Watch your heels, girls.

Welcome to our social club.

Dinah: Social club? Woman: Careful, Dinah.

Betty: What happened? So much for our big night.

A doodle bug. A flying bomb.

I hope we still get paid.

The guys were real disappointed.

They heard you on the radio.

And they found out you all were dames, well, you can imagine.

Dinah: Well, I'm a little disappointed, I have to say.

Soldier: That's the lady from the bathroom.

Hey, girls. Darling boy.

Put that man down, he's mine!

Excuse me! No, he isn't.

Patrick and I are secretly engaged.

And I want everyone to know it.

Well, I got some news. He's actually engaged to me.

He's even met my mother.

Sorry, girls, he's marrying me as soon as the war's over.

And I, uh, just bought a silk nightie on the black market.

Annie: He's marrying me.

I spoke to the vicar and he gave me some booklets.

He proposed to me in the boiler house on Tuesday.

He proposed to me on Thursday.

Girls, you're all wasting your time.

Patrick's already married to me.

(grumbling)

We got married this morning.

Gwen: Betty, shut up. You lying bitch.

Tell them, dear.

Uh... Yes, tell us.

He ought to explain! Patrick, tell us!

Annie: Go on, what's all this rubbish?

It's true. I got a 48-hour pass so I could get married

and play the gig.

And anyway tomorrow, I go off to foreign parts.

If you live that long. He won't.

(yelling)

(playing sustained note)

Oh.

Well, how was it?

You tell them.

Dinah, you were sharp.

Evie, you were flat.

And Annie...

you were in tune, but you've forgotten how to swing.

And Patrick, you sound like you're wearing a surgical boot.

What about me?

Oh, you were fine, darling.

She would say that. You're her favorite. Oh, please.

Girls, girls.

(all arguing)

Go screw yourself.

Betty: That's as individuals.

As a unit, we were crap.

Maybe we were crap way back in 1944. Except in our dreams.

Hey, and that's another thing.

There's to be no drinking on the stand.

Sorry, babe, this is not negotiable.

Sober I can't play a note, drunk I can't play a note,

but there's a point in the middle

where I play like a goddamn angel.

Please, Dinah, do you mind?

I'd rather you didn't blaspheme.

This is a bandstand, sister.

If you don't like it, get thee to a fucking nunnery.

That's enough! I resign!

I resign! Dinah, you can't do that.

What about the boys?

Shit, I resign too.

Soldier: Girls. Me too.

(yelling)

I'm going back to the prison.

At least people are nice in prison.

(yelling continues)

Come back. Salaud!

Soldier: Your husband just dropped the bomb on the band, lady.

Stop, you're not going anywhere!

You lot, you're a disgrace to women.

I wouldn't disagree with that.

Don't you realize what's at stake here?

What's at stake? I can't think of anything.

First off, the dance is in an hour's time

and there's 100 quid in it for you.

I had to fight the committee to get it.

Is that 100 pounds each?

No, between you to share.

And tea and biscuits.

If I give you 100 pounds,

may I proceed peacefully to the nearest liquor store?

Joanna: No, you may not!

And what about all my calls to the French embassy...

in French?

What's she talking about?

Tracking down your Madeleine.

(speaking French)

Elizabeth: Madeleine?

(Betty playing the French National Anthem)

Madeleine, do you still play?

A 5'3 woman doesn't lug that instrument across Europe

on public transport just for the fun of it.

Have you started without me?

Only because we thought you were dead.

Oh, I'm very much alive.

Not so sure about the rest of you, though.

Elizabeth!

(both squeal)

And Patrick.

Patrick.

The man who was going to marry me.

Salaud!

(sighs)

Now we can rehearse.

(playing smoothly)

(laughing)

(loud rock music)

Apparently they're called Open Wound.

Open what?

Wound.

And the music they play is retro punk.

Well, I can't tell whether this is any good or not.

I think we might be in the wrong place.

I think we might be in the wrong bleeding century.

(microphone feedback)

(heavy breathing)

I'll be ever so good for the rest of my life

if you help me get through this tonight please.

Any news of Gwen?

Not as yet.

She doesn't show, we'll kill her.

You'll see to it, right, babe?

There's a geezer comes in the bar,

he's in that line of work.

I know how to kill people.

Do you really know how to kill people?

Oh, it was necessary in the resistance.

That's why I play music.

Music is the only clean thing I know.

There.

Now...

how's that? Mmm.

Second favorite lips.

(cheering)

Soldier: Come on, darling! Come on!

(laughing)

I've come to say I'm sorry.

Sorry, what for?

It's all my fault.

If I hadn't been beautiful and talented,

we wouldn't have been on the BBC.

The man from the BBC wouldn't have seen you in the lavatories.

And then you wouldn't have been arrested.

And you wouldn't be going off to almost certain death.

That was you?

Well, of course it was.

I've been wondering for years who that little schoolgirl was.

Maybe not years, but a good 20 minutes certainly.

Oh, shut up.

Say something sensible for once.

Will you marry me?

Absolutely not.

You don't even remember you gave me my first grownup kiss.

I'm not very good at remembering.

Mmm! I'm still waiting for the second.

Open Wound will be back later this evening.

(applause)

And now, it's my pride and privilege to introduce, well...

my grandmother actually and The Blonde Bombshells.

(students groan)

Thank you, Joanna.

Boy: Bring back Open Wound!

A long time ago when the world was young,

I was a Blonde Bombshell.

I wasn't much older than a lot of you here this evening.

Now, several decades later, I made a discovery...

that old people are just young people

who've been around for a long time.

Here's one.

From London, England.

Direct from the all-night casino,

the little boy who never grew up.

And the finest transvestite percussionist of our time.

Patrick on the drums. Thank you.

From the end of the pier in Hastings, also in England,

a woman who has lived suspended over the deep end of the ocean for a long time

and as of yet, hasn't fallen in.

Betty on piano.

(jazzy piano playing)

Patrick: Take it away, Betty!

Elizabeth: From the blood-soaked continent of Europe,

a woman who tells it like it was, is, and ever more shall be,

Madeleine on bass.

(jazzy bass playing)

From the highlands of Scotland, trailing clouds of glory,

malt whiskey, and alimony,

Dinah plays the sweetest trumpet this side of Jericho.

(jazzy trumpet playing)

On secondment from Christianity,

with a note countersigned by God,

we say "Amen" with Annie on trombone.

On parole from the debtors' prison

and getting help and care in the community...

Evelyn...

on alto sax.

(scattered applause)

Patrick: All right. (Madeleine speaks French)

I thought I'd come along for the fight. Oh! She's here!

It's about time, Gwen. Well, you missed it.

Oh, shit!

Elizabeth: Are you gonna sing? Gwen: Introduce me.

From the Latin quarter of Wolverhampton,

the woman with a voice of gold

who never ever plays school dances

and totally unrehearsed...

Gwen.

From the leafy suburbs of south London,

the bombshell who made all this possible,

Elizabeth on tenor sax.

(applause)

Gwen: Put it all together and what have you got?

Ladies and gentlemen,

The Blonde Bombshells of the third age.

(up-tempo jazzy tune)

♪ It don't mean a thing if you ain't got that swing ♪

(Gwen scatting)

Come on. ♪ It don't mean a thing ♪

♪ All you've got to do is sing ♪

(Gwen scatting)

♪ Makes no difference if it's sweet or ♪

(Gwen scatting)

♪ Don't mean a thing if you ain't got that swing ♪

(laughs)

(Gwen scatting)

(giggles)

(Gwen continues scatting)

♪ Don't mean a thing if you ain't got that swing ♪

(Gwen scatting)

(Gwen scatting)

(Gwen scatting)

(scatting)

♪ Don't mean a thing, baby ♪

♪ Don't mean a thing, my baby ♪

♪ Don't mean a thing, baby ♪

♪ Not if you ain't got that swing ♪

♪ Swing, swing ♪

♪ Ah... ♪

Yeah!

(cheers and applause)

(whistling)

Sweetheart, I've just seen little old chip's drum kit.

Yes?

Betty: Does that mean what we think it means?

He's completed the set?

We found the keys to the boiler house. (Betty laughs)

And about time too.

You're not going to marry him, are you?

Dinah: Oh, why shouldn't she?

Everyone should marry Patrick at least once.

But I'm not, she was right the first time.

All I wanted was a bit of fun, dearie.

(laughing)

(slow jazzy piano playing)

♪ They call me coquette and mademoiselle ♪

♪ And I must admit I like it quite well ♪

♪ It's something to be the darling of all ♪

♪ The grand femme fatale, the belle of the ball ♪

♪ There's nothing as gay as life in Paris ♪

♪ There's no other person I'd rather be ♪

♪ I love what I do ♪

♪ I love what I see ♪

♪ But where is the schoolgirl ♪

♪ That used to be me... ♪

♪ Oh, the apple trees ♪

♪ Blossoms in the breeze ♪

♪ That we walked amongst ♪

♪ Lying in the hay ♪

♪ Games we used to play ♪

♪ While the rounds were sung ♪

♪ Only yesterday ♪

♪ When the world was young ♪

♪ When the world was young ♪

(song ends)

Elizabeth: Betty has started promoting The Bombshells again

and booked us into every seaside venue that will take us.

Annie allows herself to play the devil's music,

but has given up trying to save the souls of musicians.

Evelyn has joined a government think tank

on the subject of prison reform.

Madeleine continues to be slim and beautiful.

We hate her for this.

Gwen has made several award-winning albums

of songs so old that most people think they're new.

Dinah gives up drinking on a regular basis

and has married her man servant.

She now calls herself "Mrs. Brown."

I changed my credit card,

but I realize I can't change Patrick.

He wants to make an honest woman out of me,

but that would spoil everything.

Being a Blonde Bombshell

is still the most fun I've ever had.

So far.

♪ We'll have a happy ending now ♪

♪ Taking a chance on love ♪

♪ Here I stand again ♪

♪ 'Bout to beat the band again ♪

♪ I am feeling grand again ♪

♪ Taking a chance on love ♪

♪ Here I come again ♪

♪ Gonna make things hum again ♪

♪ I'm really acting dumb again ♪

♪ Taking a chance on love ♪

♪ I never dreamed in my slumbers ♪

♪ And gambling was taboo ♪

♪ Now I'm playing the numbers ♪

♪ And my number one number is you ♪

♪ Weighed it in again ♪

♪ Leading with my chin again ♪

♪ And I'm starting now to win again ♪

♪ Taking a chance on love ♪

♪ Here I slip again ♪

♪ About to take that trip again ♪

♪ I've almost lost my grip again ♪

♪ Taking a chance on love ♪

♪ Now I'm about to prove again ♪

♪ That I can make things blue again ♪

♪ I'm in a groove again ♪

♪ Taking a chance on love ♪

♪ I walk around with a horseshoe ♪

♪ And in clover I lie ♪

♪ And brother rabbit of course you better ♪

♪ Kiss your foot goodbye ♪

♪ On the ball again ♪

♪ Riding for a fall again ♪

♪ And I'm gonna give my all again ♪

♪ Taking a chance on love ♪

♪ I'm feeling fine again ♪

♪ I'm gonna rise and shine again ♪

♪ I've almost lost my mind again ♪

♪ Taking a chance on love ♪

♪ Boy, I'm hooked again ♪

♪ In the swing and I'm hooked again ♪

♪ This goose of mine is cooked again ♪

♪ Taking a chance on love ♪

♪ This game I'm having a crack ♪

♪ Needs good love from me ♪

♪ So I'm taking a whack ♪

Elizabeth: And if you need to hire a band

for your wedding, wake, or bar mitzvah,

The Blonde Bombshells are usually available.

Take it away, girls!