Original subtitles

THIS IS A TRUE STORY

The artist Louis Wain

made the cat his own.

He invented a cat style,

a cat society,

a whole cat world.

Cats that do not look and live like Louis Wain cats

are ashamed of themselves.

But that is not what is important.

What is important is that Louis Wain devoted his life

to making all our lives happier,

and cattier.

In doing so, he undoubtedly raised up the cat in society

and he changed our world for the better.

Aside from its bizarre social prejudices

and the fact that everything stank of shit,

Victorian England was also a land of innovation

and scientific discovery.

Many of the world's finest minds

were digging deep into the nature of electricity,

to harness its power for practical use.

But for the young Louis Wain, electricity was something else,

something so extraordinary and strange

that the human mind was barely able even to comprehend it.

A mysterious, elemental force that on occasion,

he could feel shimmering in the ether,

and the key to all of life's most profound

and alarming secrets.

THE ELECTRICAL LIFE OF LOUIS WAIN

1881

ANDOVER ANNUAL COUNTRY SHOW

Please keep your animals under control.

Sorry. Uh, thank... thank you.

Thank you.

Ooh. Are you an illustrator?

Yes, I do illustrations for money.

I'm also working on several patents at the moment.

You've just come from the country show, I take it?

Mmm.

You're very muddy. Did you get into a fight or something?

Uh, no, I was attacked by a one-and-a-half-ton bull.

Oh. That was you, was it?

Yes, I heard about that.

How much would you charge for a drawing of Cleopatra?

Oh, I... I don't really draw people.

Oh, no, sorry. Cleopatra.

Mmm, mmm, mmm, mmm, mmm.

Ah. Well, that you can have for free.

That's awfully kind.

My sister usually takes her, but she's unwell,

so it's up to me today.

Thought it might cheer her up.

Dan Rider, by the way.

Hello.

Yes. Good.

Find his weak spot, but just don't show him yours.

Move. Think.

All right, Wain, that's enough.

You'll be late for your meetings, you daft apeth.

Just allow me to have one more crack at him, sir.

The Bendigo Shuffle. Come on. Here we are.

Left to right, or right to left. Ha, ha, ha, ha.

I'm so sorry. Sorry.

I received word of your foolish antics

at the country show.

A whole raft of complaints

about an odd fellow being dangerous,

climbing nonchalantly into the Longhorn's pen

and standing not three yards

from the largest and most ferocious animal

on the entire site.

I wanted to get a closer look at him,

and, well, he didn't have a very good sense of humour,

- put it that way. - Thank you.

Not renowned for their sense of humour,

- are they, really, bulls? - Aren't they?

Every time I commission you to illustrate a story for us,

you manage to create some kind of ridiculous chaos.

Why were you throwing peanuts at a bull?

I heard they like peanuts and that it calms them down,

but it didn't work.

The trouble with these show cows, huge egos.

It's a good job you can draw, Mr Wain,

or we would have parted ways some time ago.

And don't think I haven't noticed

the state of your visage.

Oh, this wasn't from the bull, Sir William.

I've just come from a boxing class with the great Jem Mace.

- Boxing? - Mmm.

So when did you draw this?

On the train. From memory.

- All of them? - Mm-hmm.

So, how fast do you work exactly?

Oh. I'll just show you...

Hmm.

I'll be frank with you, Mr Wain.

One of our speediest and most prolific staff illustrators

has been poached by a rival publication.

Do you think you'd be up to it?

Well, yes, obviously. I mean...

Well, I don't find this work, um, very taxing, Sir William.

I do it to pay the bills

and to provide for the five hungry

and precocious sisters that I live with.

Until they get married, of course.

As a matter of fact,

I find the whole thing rather inconvenient.

I don't think you quite understand me.

On the basis of the speed and quality of your work,

and with the proviso that you can curb

your more imbecilic behaviour,

I am offering you a permanent position

on the staff of the Illustrated London News.

That's very kind of you, but I can't.

I have several electric patents to finish

and, in fact, I'm rather late

for a meeting with Henry Wood, the celebrated composer.

- Henry Wood? - I've written an opera.

This is not an opera, Mr Wain.

By conventional standards, it barely qualifies as music.

And this is not a plot.

It's just some of your thoughts.

I applaud your enthusiasm,

but you have to master the basics of harmony first.

I... I've invented my own harmonies.

Yes, and that could be part of the problem.

If it's any consolation,

I thought the little drawing you did on the cover sheet

was rather charming.

In the 18 months since his father had died,

Louis had nominally become the head of the household.

He was entirely unfit

to shoulder these new worldly responsibilities,

but as the oldest and malest of the six Wain siblings,

it had unfortunately become his duty.

- Evening, Louis. - Yes, good evening.

- Evening! - Louis!

Yes, hello. How are you?

- Ooh, are you back? - Yes, I'm back, Josephine.

Of course I'm back. What do you mean?

Louis, did you meet an eligible

young lady of means in Hampshire?

No, I did not, but I did meet some goats, some geese

and a rather cantankerous bull.

That's no use.

You can't marry a goat, can you?

Far better suited

would have been his beloved sister Caroline,

who had become frustrated by their rather whimsical

and bohemian mother

and stepped up at a young age

to take charge as the family's matriarch.

Have you been boxing again?

I told you, Caroline, he barely charges me

because I gave him that drawing of Bendigo.

Louis, will you practise quadrilles with me after supper?

Ah, you've come to murder me at last.

- Felicie, defend me, quick. - En garde!

Don't! We have to talk about finances.

How was your meeting with Sir William? Is he satisfied?

Sir William is, if anything, overly satisfied.

He has offered me the position of staff illustrator.

Now, I really do need to get to my room.

Oh, my goodness! Did you say staff illustrator?

Yes, staff illustrator, but I did not accept it.

I beg your very pardon? Why?

We already have twice as many outgoings as you have wages

and we've just hired a governess.

I told you to keep that room for my secondary projects.

Besides, I can teach them. I'm perfectly qualified

in all the relevant subjects.

No, you can't! You need to be out there working!

Quite right. You need to be out there working, Louis.

Governess! I'm afraid we do not require

- your services at present. - Louis!

Sorry for any inconvenience.

Governess? Governess?

Do not go into that woman's room.

Governess?

Where are you?

Is she not in there?

Where... Where are you?

Shh.

Governess? Is that you in there?

Miss Richardson, if you are in the wardrobe,

we shall be most displeased.

There's no need to be frightened,

but I am going to have to open the door.

Oh, for fuck's sake.

After a count of three.

Three, two, one.

Right, yes. No, I can see how...

I mean, as first impressions go...

How do you do, Mr Wain?

Miss Richardson, get out of the wardrobe.

Yes, of course. Would you like to know my name, Mr Wain?

So you don't have to keep shouting "governess."

I believe your mother's napping. Not very thoughtful, is it?

Miss Richardson, why were you in the wardrobe?

It helps me to concentrate to be in a confined space.

And with Shakespeare, I know it inside out already,

so I block out the world and play it through in my head.

That's all very nice, but the thing is I was just saying,

I am perfectly well versed in mathematics and chemistry...

You shan't be needing my services, then.

- I'll be on my way. - No.

Miss Richardson, he's just being an ass.

I'm actually relieved not to have to get up

at 4:30 every morning to prepare lessons.

And I was a bit worried about the ancient Greek.

Homer's use of the metrical ictus

does make it rather hard.

All those feminine caesuras.

I have no doubt they'll be much better off

in your accomplished hands.

I was just thinking, I promised myself to submit

my steady cycle patent before the end of the month,

if I'm teaching my sisters the feminine senoras...

- Caesuras. - Exactly that.

I won't have time.

So you'd like me to stay?

My poor husband William was thrown out

by his family in Staffordshire.

- They were all Protestant. - Leek.

The town's called Leek, Miss Richardson.

- Isn't that funny? - That's hilarious.

They talk like this up there.

He wanted to be a Catholic,

but his father wouldn't let him, and so he just ran away.

- He was a Cathoholic. - Shush, Marie.

- How did you meet him? - I thought it was funny.

Through the church.

I designed tapestries for the...

Ooh. You're getting heavy. ...for the church

and he came from a silk family.

He was a draper.

And my own father...

I'm French, you see.

...smuggled himself to England

by disguising himself as a woman.

We're a family of mischief-makers,

Miss Richardson.

We may as well have been called the Shenanigans.

You'll have your hands full with these three.

And as for you two, high time you found

some nice husbands of your own, don't you think?

We will, Mother, in time.

Well, I was given quite the look

from a hatted man with a moustache on the bus.

Absolutely enormous moustache

and a very prominent brow.

Yes, it was very prominent.

It was like a dome. But, um, it...

Well, it was quite the glance.

It was embarrassing.

- Did he seem wealthy, Josephine? - Mother.

Josephine's going to marry a man

with a big moustache.

Caroline, he might have a brother.

Miss Caroline.

Is everything to your satisfaction, Miss Richardson?

Very much so.

Why do you ask?

Oh, no. Just, I was going to say,

if the room wasn't to your liking,

I would be perfectly happy for you to swap with me.

That won't be necessary. I'm very comfortable.

Of course, but I wouldn't want you to feel... ill at ease.

Sharing the floor...

with a man.

Why would that make me feel ill at ease?

Very well.

Please keep all of your belongings in order.

You are here as an example to my sisters.

Of course. You're very good with them, by the way.

It must be exhausting, having to be the grown-up.

Well, I am a grown-up, so it's not exhausting.

Why are you holding a rock?

I travel a lot,

so I like to bring a few rocks with me from Shrewsbury,

where I grew up. Helps me to feel at home.

Why don't you have this one?

Sleep well...

Miss Richardson.

- Morning. - Morning.

Louis had learnt to control the chaos in his mind

by always moving

and for many years had been quite content

frantically pursuing his various interests,

as failed art teacher, failed musician,

aspiring inventor, enthusiastic polyhobbyist,

and, of course, part-time illustrator.

But the one thing he had never considered,

in spite of constant pressure to find an eligible young spouse,

was the possibility

of ever leading any kind of romantic life.

And so, as a strange, tingly feeling crackled in his breast

and sparkled through this loins,

I think it would be fair to say that the innocent Mr Wain

didn't really know what the hell was going on.

He had an inkling, of course. But how could he be sure

that these feelings would be reciprocated?

What of the unsightly harelip

that he so sproutily disguised with his careful moustache?

Upon closer scrutiny,

she would surely notice this unfortunate deformity

and run a mile.

Or perhaps, she would not be so impressed to discover

that in spite of the rather playful exterior,

his mind was a dark, screaming hurricane

of crippling anxieties and recurring nightmares.

Not to mention, of course, the gossiping neighbours

who would all consider it ghastly for a lowly governess

to be engaging in these bourgeois games of courtship.

Emily Richardson's slightly unconventional attitude

to her employer's privacy

had already caught the eye

of nosy-posy Mrs Du Frayne,

who was, by all accounts,

the blabberiest mouth this side of the River Thames.

Suffice it to say,

there were a great many obstacles

that stood in the way of Louis and Emily.

And in a different world, he might well have decided

not to disturb Sir William Ingram's daily splosh

at the Turkish baths in Islington.

Ah. Good morning, Mr Wain.

Good morning, Sir William.

Don't often see you in here.

I've come to speak to you.

- Have you got a moment? - Yes, of course, Louis.

Just let me finish my morning exercises.

Yes, of course.

Actually, I might do some laps myself now that I'm here.

Careful! Careful, Louis.

Oh! Louis?

So you've come to your senses, young man.

Why the sudden change of heart?

Well, we've hired a governess to teach my younger sisters.

- A governess? - Mmm.

Ah, and you don't want her dashing off to some other family

because you can't pay her.

Something like that, yes.

Well, I'll start you off on poverty wages,

as is standard, but they will be regular.

And I'm afraid we can't pay you for holidays

or expenses at the moment.

Will those terms be to your satisfaction, Mr Wain?

Good.

Tap, tap. Advance.

- Advance. - Tap, tap.

- Tap, tap. Advance. - Advance. Okay.

En garde!

- En garde! - En garde!

Caroline, can I show you how I do fencing?

Not right now.

- En garde. - Please be civilised, girls.

Mrs Wain, would you accompany us on the piano?

I would love to accompany you on the piano.

Let's show them what we've been practising.

Every penny-counting rogue in London knows that trick.

- You're not supposed to say yes. - Did you not bargain with him?

- Have I taught you nothing? - I'm happy with it, Herb.

Actually, I really ought to be getting back.

I have to start work on my steady cycle patent.

Forget that. Nobody understands what it is.

Don't be such a fucking drip. If you're happy, you're happy.

I mean, you've been swindled, so I don't understand that.

Let's have some fun. I haven't seen you for three weeks.

You've been spending too much time with your weird sisters.

You are staff illustrator for the top newspaper in London.

All you need now is the loving touch

of a well-bosomed aristocrat.

That's the thing about Phil May, the saucy fiend.

Always hosting a skulk of wealthy young vixens.

We can't celebrate your success without you.

There'll be dancing later, perhaps?

There will be if you're here, I know that much.

- I'm in. - Come on.

Shh!

Be quiet.

Oh. I was so quiet.

Marie is having a nightmare.

Oh.

You're drunk.

Perhaps a little. I've been celebrating.

I accepted the job...

with Sir William.

Good.

Now go to bed.

Caroline. I can feel prickles.

- It's okay. - I'm scared.

- I'm here. I'm here. - I'm scared, Caroline.

It's all right. It's just our silly brother

trampling up the stairs.

Shh.

Try to think of a meadow or a breeze.

Keep calm, Marie, keep calm.

Breathe.

Uh, good evening.

- No. - What?

- Go away. Go away. - Yes. What? Why?

- What do you mean, why? - I don't...

Yes, of course. Yes, sorry.

What are you doing, Mr Wain?

- I don't understand. - Get out!

Right, yes, of course. Sorry. I apologise.

I am under your employ, Mr Wain, but I do not expect

to have to tolerate you barging in here after hours

while I'm...

Well, it doesn't matter what I was doing, does it?

Yes. Sorry. Of course.

It's just I have so many sisters

that sometimes I forget that it's...

Were you painting something?

That's none of your business, Mr Wain.

But, yes, if you must know.

I've got a drawing lesson with the girls tomorrow,

and all you Wains are such accomplished artists

that I rather thought I could do with a bit of preparation.

I see.

Well, I was, um...

Well, I just wanted to invite you to the theatre.

THE TEMPEST

As an educational trip,

with Felicie, Claire and Marie.

I'm so sorry again, Miss Richardson. I do apologise.

I'm terribly embarrassed.

It's just I was excited to share the idea with you

and I just don't want you to think you have to be cooped up

in this house all the time, that's all.

I think it sounds like a rather splendid idea.

Please just knock the next time that you wish to see me.

Of course.

- Is something funny, Mr Wain? - Not at all.

Not at all.

Good night, Emily.

Good night, Mr Wain.

Miss Richardson?

Yes?

When it comes to drawing,

there's only really one rule you ever need to teach.

It's to look.

Mummy! Daddy! Help me!

I'm drowning! I'm drowning!

You're so ugly! Ugly!

You don't belong here! You don't belong anywhere!

It's magic.

What a clever bugger Mr Newton was.

Uh, language, please, Felicie.

- A clever sausage? - Sausage I will accept,

although I fear it rather fails to capture

the spirit of Newton's genius.

I'm a genius.

If you work hard and continue with your studies, Marie,

perhaps one day, you will be.

Thank you, Miss Richardson.

You're very welcome. Thank you.

Quiet on the stairs, please, girls.

Crumpets, biscuits, cake!

Ooh. Come in.

Good morning.

Morning.

How was your lesson?

It was very good, thank you.

Turns out that your sisters don't need my help with drawing,

so we tried something else instead.

Good. That's good.

I hereby atone for my drunken imposition

by presenting myself to you naked.

Please don't present yourself to me naked, Mr Wain.

I might consider that to be a secondary imposition,

arguably greater than the first.

But you cannot have failed to observe

that I have quite a profound harelip.

Yes. What of it, Mr Wain?

Sorry. Have I made a mistake?

No, I think you look very handsome.

So, uh...

Well, am I forgiven?

Why do you need me to forgive you, Mr Wain?

When do you think we might make our trip to the theatre?

For the, uh, for the education of the girls, of course.

Of course.

Well, I'll just consult my diary.

Excellent. Well, I shall look forward to it.

Thank you.

I appreciate the gesture.

But, Mother, we have not yet settled our accounts

with the coal merchant and the butcher.

He should have consulted me first.

Boring.

We cannot let him out looking like this.

Why you've committed this most wanton

and violent act of self-harm, I do not know.

How will he ever meet a woman of fortune?

Caroline, he's had a shave, that's all.

Marie, darling, where have you gone?

Well, I think we should all go.

Make an evening of it.

Josephine, we at least must stay.

Marie?

Don't come in.

Marie, what's happened?

Oh, it's all right.

It's all right. It's perfectly natural.

If anything, it's a good thing. It means you're a woman.

Well, I should like to go not so much for the play

but for the handsome young bachelors in the crowd.

We can practise our flirtations.

I should like to go because I should like to go.

If you change your mind, Caroline,

you're more than welcome to join us.

I think it fair to say that Miss Richardson

has had a positive effect on this family

and we should show our gratitude.

I'm a woman!

Hurray!

Sorry, everyone. Bit of a situation,

but everything's under control.

Oh.

That's the governess I was telling you about.

- Oh. - For the Wains.

- Uh, you look very... - No, thank you. So do you.

- Thank you. - Thank you. Shall we...

- Yes, let's... - Yes, let's sit down. Good.

Is this... Is this your first time?

- Yes, it is, it is. - Okay.

- It's exciting. - Good.

Ooh.

- Here. - Thank you.

Boatswain!

Here, master! What cheer?

Good, speak to the mariners.

Fall to't, yarely, or we run ourselves aground:

bestir, bestir.

Heigh, my hearts!

Cheerly, cheerly, my hearts!

Yare, yare!

Take in the topsail.

Topsail!

Tend to the master's whistle.

Mummy! Daddy! Help me!

I'm drowning! I'm drowning!

Help me! I'm drowning! Please!

Help me! I'm drowning!

Um... this is the gentlemen's toilet.

Yes. Sorry.

I...

I was worried that you might be distressed about something.

No, no. Just a funny turn, that's all.

Right, yes.

No, I thought it might have, um,

might have reminded you of something.

Something you found frightening as a child, perhaps,

like a recurring nightmare.

Like "The Sea Full Of Big Ships."

I might have accidentally looked in your journal.

Well, that... that was nosy.

I'm afraid it's one of my many flaws.

- Nosiness? - I'm very nosy, yes.

It's partly why I chose to become a governess.

Did you find it horrifying?

All those dark and disturbing visions?

No. I found it quite reassuring, to be honest.

I tend to have nightmares about

not being able to get out of places.

I once spent an entire dream

stuck in a very complicated barn.

Well, thank God you didn't get stuck in that wardrobe.

Yeah, thank God.

Thank God I had you to let me out of it.

Good God!

It definitely did happen in the toilet.

- Oh, hello. - Hello.

Well, if it isn't my favourite family,

the Wains. Hello, girls. How are you, Louis?

Very well, thank you, Mrs Du Frayne. Um, how are you?

Quite well. Terrific eulogy at your father's funeral.

Thank you. You say that every time I see you.

And you must be the famous Emily Richardson.

- Nice to meet you. - We were just remarking

that we don't often see governesses at the theatre.

Was it your first time?

I hear you got a little bit confused...

about the lavatories.

Yes, confused.

Quite charming.

You are clearly an intelligent woman,

Miss Richardson,

and we've been impressed by your teaching.

But there are certain aspects of your behaviour,

and certain aspects

of the behaviour that you encourage

in my ridiculous brother

that we simply cannot tolerate.

This evening was intended to be an educational event.

Yet now, thanks to you,

this family is the talk of the town.

And not in a good way.

You have three days to get your affairs in order.

I just wanted to thank you, Mr Wain,

for a very pleasant evening.

I had a very nice time.

I've taught of countless adventures

from the safety of a schoolroom.

But it was exciting to be taken on one for once.

I... I like your shawl, by the way.

Thank you. It was my mother's.

It's blue.

Yep. It's blue.

Goodbye, Louis.

I don't care, I don't care, I don't care what people think.

Nor do I.

- Mmm! Close the door. - What?

Close the door. Ooh. Ooh.

- What happened? - I fell over my dress.

- I'm sorry. - It's not your fault.

Sit down.

As this peculiar romance

blossomed clumsily into flower,

the discrepancy in their social standing

became the cause of great controversy.

One neighbour, it was widely rumoured,

vomited immediately upon hearing news of their courtship.

For the coupling of a gentleman with a lady of the servile class

was considered nothing short of revolting.

Not to mention

that the undeniably charming Miss Richardson

was, by the standards of the day,

positively geriatric.

But Louis cared little for these foolish preconceptions,

and in January of the year 1884,

he asked Emily for her hand in marriage.

1884

Trim the bottom. Trim the bottom.

- It's dusty. - It's a bit dusty.

MRS W WAIN ONE POUND, TEN SHILLINGS

The weeks turned to months,

and in spite of the newly fractious relationship

with his sisters,

Louis quietly continued in his endeavours

to support them.

Every week, he would post a modest cheque

to his dear mother,

and even began to take on private commissions

as a dog portraitist,

visiting dukes and duchesses, lords and ladies,

and their pampered canine friends.

At the same time, he continued with his work

covering general news and various agricultural shows

for Sir William.

And thus for six precious months,

Louis and Emily lived a perfectly normal,

if societally unconscionable married life.

I gather you're an educated woman, Mrs Wain.

Yes, Doctor. I was a governess.

I... I see.

Well, in that case,

I trust you will understand me when I say...

you have terminal cancer of the breast.

Yes, Doctor.

Just when I was starting to enjoy it.

What was that?

Strange.

Oh, Louis, look.

Hello there, little thing.

- Hello. - Hello there, cat.

You're soaking wet. You poor little thing.

Why don't you come in the warm with us?

Yeah? Hello.

We'll take care of you. Won't we, Louis?

Yes, we will.

Hello. Hello.

Ooh.

It's all right. It's all right.

Rain. It's just raining.

Who's that?

It's Louis.

Got another little towel for you.

- That's better, isn't it? - See?

That's better.

That's better.

- Hello. - Hello.

- Hello. - Hello.

Hello.

Where do you think you're going?

What would you like to be called?

Percy?

- I quite like Percy. - Paul?

Not Paul.

Peter?

Peter.

- Peter. - Peter.

It's sure to be a quick kerfuffle when Bendigo's here

with the Bendigo Shuffle!

Curious little fellow, isn't he?

Yes, but he's electric, Herb.

Look how his fancy all adore him.

Half his opponent's size,

yet he knows how to harness the electricity of the crowd.

Are you talking about the photographers?

Look properly, Herb. The electricity.

Finally, I'm starting to understand it.

Is everything all right at home?

- With Emily, I mean? - Oh, yes, of course.

We have a new friend. He's called Peter.

- Peter? - He's a cat. We have a cat now.

- For mousing, you mean? - No, Herb, as a pet.

Okay, Louis, I'm worried about you.

- Why? - You have a cat as a pet.

Do you know the true meaning of the phrase,

"There's no time like the present," Herb?

It's that there isn't. It's too fleeting.

In fact, I have a hypothesis

that electricity is what pushes us through time.

We turn the past into the future

with the power of our electricity.

But that process is entirely reversible.

Remembering the past is no different

from imagining the future.

And neither is different to life itself.

I can remember Emily in the future

and she will be there.

Do you see what I'm saying, Herb?

Do you see what I'm saying?

Bendigo! Bendigo! Bendigo! Bendigo!

Bendigo! Bendigo! Bendigo!

But these don't capture the spirit of the fight,

Sir William.

Yes, they do.

That's why they're in vogue.

They're fast, they're cheap and they're 100% accurate.

But where is the electricity?

Louis, I hear your wife is very sick.

I know that you continue to support your mother and sisters,

which is admirable, Louis, so I'm...

I'm sorry to have to say this.

But it may be that I cannot use you

quite as much as I would like for the time being.

I have to get our finances in order,

and that means making difficult, practical decisions.

But my advice to you is this:

Spend the time that you gain with your wife,

because when she is gone...

it will hurt.

These are precious weeks, Louis.

Do you understand?

- Come on, Peter. - Come on, Peter.

Up the stairs. Come on.

- I think he's coming. - Peter.

Peter?

Good boy.

Good boy.

Good boy.

Well done, Peter.

- Well done, Peter. - Well done.

Let's go for a walk. Yes.

- After you. - Thank you.

I think Peter likes the oak trees.

Mm-hmm.

- They're amazing, aren't they? - Mmm.

They live for a thousand years.

Three hundred years to grow.

Three hundred years to live.

Three hundred years to die.

Oh, that'll do.

It looks lovely. Peter likes it now.

Don't you, Peter?

Electricity.

I feel electricity.

Can you feel it?

This is our place.

This is where I'll be, Louis.

When you need me.

Stuffed mouse for lunch,

Mrs Wain?

No, thank you, Peter.

I'm not partial to mouse, personally.

Sparrow pie?

I don't care for sparrow either, truth be told.

- It's a bit gristly. - Oh.

- Perhaps a slice of... - Oh, could you stop it, please?

I don't have an appetite today. I'm a bit tired.

What's the matter?

I have cancer, Louis.

I'm in quite a lot of pain.

Ready?

That depends on what you're about to show me.

Ta-da!

Oh, Louis.

When did you do all this? Has Sir William seen these?

Sir William hasn't seen these. These are for you, Emily.

- Well, you must show him. - Why?

Sir William doesn't care for Peter, does he, now?

And besides, I shall be...

I shall be spending more time with you while you're still...

I'm the one who's ill, Louis.

Don't you start wallowing in it too.

Sir William!

Sir William! Whoo-oo!

Sir William!

Whoo-oo! Sir William!

Whoo-oo! Sir William!

Excuse me.

Excuse me, sir.

- Oi! - Whoo!

Oi! Stop!

Oi!

This club's for gentlemen only!

I'm sorry she wasn't allowed in, old boy. I did try.

It wasn't a very convincing disguise, was it?

She should be at home resting.

It was her idea.

CATTY MEWS

Hmm.

MILK

Very sorry if we've wasted your time, Sir William.

Yes.

I have two pages earmarked in the Christmas edition.

Reserved for a bit of festive frivolity.

Something to raise the spirits of our readers.

I'd like you to fill them with cats.

With... cats?

Yes. With cats.

Don't you think perhaps a spread of silly dogs

would be more appealing for your readership?

I've seen dogs before.

And you capture something of the cat, Louis.

Perhaps because you yourself are a bit of a renegade.

An outcast, dare I say.

How you've managed to conjure images of such delight

at such a dark time...

I don't know.

Merry Christmas.

Illustrated London News!

Illustrated London News!

Throughout history,

cats have been worshipped as mystical gods

and maligned as the evil allies of witchery and sin.

But I think you're the first person ever to see

that they are in fact ridiculous.

They're silly and cuddly.

And lonely.

And frightened and brave.

Like us.

One day, I don't think it'll be so peculiar

to have a cat in the house as a little pet.

What's going on in that funny little head of yours?

Sometimes...

I think about the day you won't be here...

and...

I have to say, Emily,

I find it intolerably difficult to imagine.

I will be so very alone.

You'll be all right, Louis.

You'll have Peter.

This time with you, Emily...

playing with Peter in the evening, sitting by the fire...

these have been the best days of my entire life.

I don't know why it is that I find it so very difficult

just being here on this earth, but...

I can say with absolute certainty

that you have made it much, much better.

You make the world beautiful...

and warm and kind.

I just wanted to say thank you for that before it's too late.

I don't make the world beautiful, Louis.

The world is beautiful.

And you've helped me to see that too.

Just remember...

hmm, however hard things get...

however much you feel like you're struggling...

the world is full of beauty.

And it's up to you to capture it, Louis.

To look.

And to share it with as many people as you can.

You are a prism.

Through which that beam of life refracts.

Here we are.

A special New Year's breakfast for you today, Mrs Wain.

Don't worry, Peter.

Yes, I haven't forgotten about your eggs.

Thank you.

1891

Louis Wain special in the Illustrated London News!

Come and get it! Illustrated London News!

In the years following,

Louis buried the pain of his grief

under a quite extraordinary quantity of cat pictures.

Almost without realising,

he had achieved an alarming degree of success

and completely altered the public's attitude

towards the humble cat.

Look! There he is! Louis Wain!

Your cats have won you many fans, Wain.

Congratulations.

He says thank you, but go easy on the sherry.

You don't mind if I work for other people, do you?

That's the cheek

that's catapulted you to fame, my boy.

Oh, we've had a telegram from Miss Judith Shenton

of the National Cat Club.

They're having a kind of cat competition

and would like you to judge it.

It's so wonderful to meet

a kindred spirit, Mr Wain.

I've heard even gentry are keeping cats as pets now.

- Hmm. - And so handsome too.

I'm just astonished at your level of knowledge, I really am.

Although I must admit, I don't fully understand your theory

about cats preferring to face north.

Cats will always prefer to face and walk north,

especially along a wall, you will notice.

Their whiskers act as antennae,

attracted to the positive poles of the earth.

The tabby's markings are defined

by the electricity of their feline heritage.

This particular animal might have had

a great-grandmother that was struck by lightning,

so defined are the markings by the jaggedy lines.

- Fascinating. - Electricity. From the head.

Right down the body to the tail.

Cats are excellent conductors of electricity.

Their features are already changing

as they become more domesticated and intelligent.

Their eyes will become larger, their heads bigger

as their brains grow in size.

They will turn blue.

Eventually, they will stand on their own hind legs

and communicate to us in our own language.

Gosh. I'd no idea it was so complicated.

Did you say that they would turn blue?

- Yes. Of course. - Wow.

Well, Mr Wain, thanks to you,

us cat people are out of the shadows

and finally able to celebrate in the open

with our feline children.

I'd like to thank you.

Oh, sorry.

Yep. Arm in.

The new president of the National Cat Club.

Is that what it says?

NATIONAL CAT CLUB DEPTFORD LONDON

I assumed you'd been spending it all on frivolous luxuries.

'Cause you've forgotten about your family.

Yet here you are living in squalor and chaos!

- Don't shout, Caroline! - I am not shouting, Claire!

I'm explaining to him with force.

There's a cadaver now. It's eating a hawk.

Where has it all gone?

We're in huge amounts of debt.

It's really starting to affect Mother's health.

- Where has it all gone? - I didn't copyright the images.

Oh, my God.

- Oh, my God, help us, please. - What does that mean?

It means people have been reprinting his pictures

all over the country and he hasn't seen a penny.

Which explains why he is living rather like a pig.

The stench is quite unbearable.

Some of the originals I have exchanged in place of money.

So, in fact, they've become

a sort of currency in themselves.

I gave the barber, well, a handful of dancing cats,

and now I have free haircuts for the rest of my life.

You're not a child, Louis!

You're the man.

You're a man.

Our parents worked hard for our reputation.

They worked hard to build a fortune for their children,

and you have squandered it on wretched cats!

And on a wilful, doomed, tainted romance.

You've destroyed our family with your selfishness

and you continue with your childish delusions

which conspire to keep us all in penury.

The indignity that we've suffered at your hands, Louis.

- I didn't do it on purpose. - You didn't do what on purpose?

You didn't get married on purpose?

No one told me I needed to copyright the images.

What about Sir William? He should have advised you.

I haven't seen Sir William for some time now.

- I am working for other people. - We don't have any money, Louis.

And poor Marie...

What?

What?

Just tell him.

What has happened?

They hate me, Louis.

They're plotting. They're going to murder me.

- We're not going to murder you. - Liar!

They're going to throw me out because I had relations.

I had relations in the graveyard.

And we laughed.

They're just jealous because I saw heaven.

And that's why I've got the leprosy as punishment.

They're all spinsters.

They say it's your fault. Because of Miss Richardson.

But it's because they're ugly

and they lie and plot and scheme.

Marie, why don't you come and stay with me?

- And you can play with the cats. - No, no, no, no, not cats.

They're poisonous and they've got diseases.

And I've already got leprosy.

Get it off me, Louis! Get it off me!

Get it off me! Get it off me!

It's going to be okay. We're all here for you.

After a local doctor's tentative diagnosis

of schizophrenia,

the Wain family had done everything they could

for poor Marie.

But Louis was at a loss,

and so he went to an old friend for advice.

THE ILLUSTRATED LONDON NEWS

I have a series of properties

in the village of Westgate-on-Sea.

They're quite habitable

and you're welcome to stay there for as long as you like,

at a reduced rate, on one condition.

- You take your family with you. - I...

I couldn't possibly, Sir William.

Especially after I've been so callously unloyal.

I have plenty of illustrators on my books, Mr Wain.

- Don't flatter yourself. - Why, then, Sir William?

Because in spite of your rather irregular temperament

and nigglingly peculiar foibles,

in this occasionally bleak world,

you have shown a resilience that I admire.

And if you must know,

you've brought me rather a lot of cheer with your pictures.

Of cats?

Mmm.

But they're not just cats, are they?

You are a brave soul, Louis,

but you can't do all this on your own.

It sounds to me like Marie needs a change of scenery.

Fresh clothes, proper food, brisk walks.

- Thank you. Just in there. - Yes, sir.

- Louis! - Hello! Hello! Hello!

- It's wonderful, Louis. - Welcome to Bendigo Lodge.

BENDIGO LODGE

Caroline, welcome.

Louis, it's lovely.

Welcome to Bendigo Lodge, Mother.

- Ooh, Bendigo. - Bendigo.

It's perfect.

Bless us, oh, Lord, for these, thy gifts,

which we are about to receive from thy bounty...

Well done, Peter. You show them how to eat.

Very good manners. Nina, try and slow down a little bit.

You're terribly tiny to be eating that much so quickly.

Pass me your plate.

Felicie, plate.

That's it. Well done.

We could go and walk tomorrow,

wear our nice clothes and smile at men.

- They'll run away. - Run away?

I don't want to run away. We just got here.

So what are we looking for, then?

- A writer. - Oh, no.

Who writes for the newspaper.

No. A doctor.

I would like dark hair.

- Dark hair. - Blond.

Oh, no. Untrustworthy.

Give me the pillow, Josephine!

I think for you still it's better beside your legs.

That was good.

Triumph. I get another go.

Shall we shell?

- Some plates. - Bravo.

- They're a little fancy. - Ooh.

Yes, don't drop them, please.

Felicie, did you see a better knife than this?

- Why? - 'Cause this one's dreadful.

All right.

Or a sharpener.

I'll go and get the pie.

IN NURSERYLAND WITH LOUIS WAIN

THE LOUIS WAIN NURSERY BOOK

DADDY CAT LOUIS WAIN

Louis?

It's all right. Not long now, Peter.

Where are we going?

Where are we going?

I think we should stop quite soon.

- Are you tired? - I'm quite tired.

Louis?

- Lunch. - Come.

- Come and eat. - Come.

I think he's trying to divert the electricity.

Oh, that again.

I'm scared, Louis.

Me too.

1900

Get off me! Get off me!

No, I said, get off!

Let go of me!

His sisters went several years more

without finding a single suitor,

and in spite of Sir William's cheery prognosis,

Marie's condition did not improve.

- Dr Elphick. - Miss Wain.

After the catastrophic marriage of their only son,

the fact that one of their number

was now officially a raving lunatic

did nothing to help the family's social status.

- Thank you, Doctor. - All the best.

And then, his great teacher and best friend,

his dear old Peter, passed away.

Like a frenzied bat in a burning oven,

Louis' heart was a screaming, flapping mess.

He wept without ceasing for several years,

but at the same time,

he was overtaken by an extraordinary new discovery,

that the more intensely he suffered,

the more beautiful his work became.

He realised that the memories he still held

of his dear wife, Emily, and darling Peter

had become powerful conductors

of that mysterious electricity in the atmosphere

that he had so far been unable to harness.

- Mr Wain? - Hmm?

Are you aware of the reason I've been summoned?

I assume it's to inform us

on how Marie is doing in the asylum.

That or to conduct a study on the neural evolution of my cats.

Bridget's already halfway to talking. Aren't you, Bridget?

I'm afraid not, Mr Wain. Although since you ask,

Marie seems to be coping much better of late.

I'm very glad to hear it.

I have been working on a psychiatric patent

that I meant to show you.

- It's for an electric suit. - An electric suit?

Full body suit. Made of copper and silken steel.

Attached to a large mechanical motor

that transmits a positive current

through the nervous system and into the brain,

thus curing the patient of all harmful thoughts

and eradicating their lunacies entirely.

Would you care to take a look at it?

- No, thank you, Mr Wain. - That's a shame.

I think there's a very high chance

that it could cure Marie entirely of her sickness.

I've been called here, Mr Wain,

because your sister Caroline is concerned for your health.

My health? Why would she be concerned about my health?

It's not just Caroline who is concerned, Louis.

I understand you're planning a trip, Mr Wain?

Indeed. I have sent

some colourful missives to several publications,

including some new examples.

More electrically influenced samplings.

I'm happy to say the great William Hearst

of the New York American has offered me a full-time post

as their cartoonist at a considerable fee.

Why do you have to go to New York? It's too far.

Over 3,000 miles.

Because, as you are all so keen to remind me,

we are lacking in funds at the minute.

This is not our house. We are in debt.

And for a variety of reasons

that we are very well acquainted with,

my work is currently of little value on these shores.

What's more, the people of America

are light years behind in their attitude towards cats.

I assume you've been reading about Roosevelt

and his Gentlemen's Agreement with the people of Japan.

Japanese children will now be taught

in the same school as their American compatriots

and their immigrant parents can freely roam

in the streets of America, but can their cats?

I have helped this country a great deal in this regard.

Now I must help the cats of America.

For better or worse, Dr Elphick, I am a prism

and a transformative funnel for negative electricity.

In these tumultuous times,

I want to make the people of America smile.

I've never seen an American smile in my life.

You have never seen an American.

It's time to change that.

The only reason that you are here

is my sister has summoned you

because she is extremely jealous

and has been since I was 12 years old

and will do anything to prevent me reaching my full potential.

Mr Wain, there is no question that you are delusional.

But mere delusions of grandeur

are not sufficient reason to commit you to hospital.

I would quite strongly advise against your trip to New York.

I'd suggest you stay here to rest,

gain a little perspective

before you proceed to the next chapter of your life.

But ultimately, the choice is yours.

You can run away from your family, Louis.

You cannot run away from your grief.

It trails you.

Like a violent shadow.

1907

You, sir, you seem like the kind of man

who wants to keep up with the times.

The New York Times.

Chateau Guiraud. Hurry up.

Yes, sir, yes.

Upon arriving in New York,

Louis was immediately struck by a palpable difference

in the material content of the atmosphere.

It was clear that this was a city

with an enormous surfeit of electrical energy.

Get those drinks to table nine now.

Yes, sir.

Every cat fancier knows puss loves nothing more

than to sit on a piece of brown paper.

Cats are aware of the dangers of electrical rheumatism,

and of course if you ever need to punish a cat,

you could just crumple the paper to make the sound of thunder.

- Do cats get rheumatism? - Yes, of course, Miss Simmonds.

Mr Wain, we have been showing your cat pictures to our staff.

They've been laughing. They've been smiling.

Tell him, Alicia. Tell him I'm not lying.

One of our typists, she took some your pictures to her kids

and she said that they were running about

on their hands and knees, pretending to be cats.

Pretending to be cats! How cute!

And asking to have cats for their birthday.

We're gonna get you out there. You're a personality.

Wouldn't you say, Alicia, honey? You're Mr Cat.

- You're Cat Man. - Cat Man.

- He's Cat Man. - Cat Man.

I think that has a certain ring to it.

But I like Louis Wain.

I think that has a certain ring to it too.

Can I ask you a question, Mr Wain?

Why cats?

Just remember,

however hard things get,

however much you feel like you're struggling...

the world is full of beauty.

And it's up to you to capture it, Louis.

To look.

And to share it with as many people as you can.

You all right, Mr Wain?

Her whispers come in the leafy tickle of the wind,

or the wet crackle of the electric rain.

And at night, I turn the dial of the wireless,

hoping to catch clues in the atmospheric electricity

that comes from the afterlife.

How to continue with this crusade?

For it was Emily who first taught me

the true nature of cats.

The true value of cats.

It is only through understanding cats,

how they are misunderstood and mistreated,

for no other reason than simple blind prejudice,

that I came to understand human beings.

How we are all corrupted by a foul form of electricity.

And it is only through the work

of those who have the transformative gift

that we can defeat it.

Without change, we are a fallen species with no future,

an animal whose only instinct is to destroy!

Dear Louis.

After a long and valiant struggle with the influenza,

our mother passed away at 11:36 this morning.

Even in her dying weeks, she lived at her own rhythm,

and regaled us with stories about our father

and their time together as young lovers in London.

She spoke of how dearly she had missed you

but understood that you had gone on your trip

for the good of the family.

I hadn't shared with her the truth about our finances.

But, Louis, I'm writing to you now

because I want you to come home.

I know we've had our differences,

but we're getting old.

And you've been too far away for too long.

Meow. Ha, ha, ha.

Your sister, Caroline.

It's funny. It's funny.

Hello?

Let me out!

It's not safe!

Help! We're... We're sinking! We're sinking!

Help me, please!

Please, help me! Help me! Help me!

Please! Please!

Mummy! Daddy!

Help me! Help me! Help me!

Help me!

Just remember...

Just remember...

Mummy!

Daddy!

Help me! Please!

I'm drowning!

1914

You would be excused for hoping

that this is where Mr Wain's fortunes would change.

But, alas, a few years after the death of his mother,

poor Marie was also taken by the dreaded influenza.

While the creaking heart of his friend and mentor,

the generous Sir William Ingram,

finally gave in to his gout.

Louis had continued to display

a woeful lack of financial acumen,

and the family sank ever deeper

in the quicksand of their debts.

And then, when attempting one day

to dismount from a moving omnibus,

he fell head first into a profound coma

and saw a vision of the year 1999.

To everyone's surprise, his lucky futurist cats

were a great success

and orders were made all across Europe.

But, at the same time,

negative electricity around the globe

had risen to a critical level

and military tensions blistered into a state of war.

He had worked tirelessly for several months,

but almost all of his cargo was destroyed

by a German U-boat in the North Sea.

A number of British cargo ships

have been sunk by German submarines,

leaving thousands of pounds worth of merchandise

to rest at the bottom of the North Sea.

Initial reports imply that these vessels

were caught in a crossfire...

Louis?

Caroline would like to see you.

Louis, sit down.

I want you to know that...

I want you to know that I'm very proud of you.

Shh. Shh.

Enough! Louis, enough!

Louis!

Stop it, Louis, please! Calm down!

Louis! Louis! Louis! Stop it!

Cats have been worshipped as mystical gods

and maligned as the evil allies of witchery and sin.

But I think you're the first person ever to see

that they are in fact ridiculous.

They're silly and cuddly.

And lonely.

Frightened and brave.

Like us.

What's going on in that funny little head of yours?

Much better.

You make the world beautiful.

And warm. And kind.

I just wanted to say thank you for that before it's too late.

I don't make the world beautiful, Louis.

The world is beautiful.

And you've helped me to see that too.

I'll take you to what we call the paupers' ward.

For, um... Well, for obvious reasons.

I assure you, the patients are taken care of

in a perfectly professional manner.

1925

I hope you will report favourably

back to the committee you volunteer for?

I'm here to assess the welfare of your patients, Dr Cooke,

and the running of your hospital.

Not just on behalf of my fellow committee members

but on behalf of the government.

So I shall report back

- according to what I find. - Indeed.

What is the average length of stay here at Springfield?

Have you had much success with turning patients out?

We have had some successes.

But it depends partly on the patient's willingness

to cooperate.

And as you can imagine, Mr Rider,

that varies widely from person to person.

Louis Wain.

Yes. This is Mr Louis Wain.

You might remember his rather charming cat pictures

from all those years ago.

How are you, Mr Wain?

It's, uh... It's me.

Dan Rider. We met on the train back from Andover.

I had my... my sister's Pomeranian with me.

Cleopatra.

Cleopatra?

Yes.

I'd no idea you were a patient here, Mr Wain.

He is, I'm afraid, quite insane.

Uh, but we do our best to look after him.

Very sad, isn't it, Mr Rider?

He seems almost entirely

to have lost a handle on his craft.

Do you like it here, Mr Wain?

There are no cats.

I cannot see... outside.

Oh. That must be rather difficult

for someone like you, Mr Wain,

who's spent his entire life examining the world,

suddenly not to see it.

I have failed.

I've...

I have failed her, Mr Rider.

I don't think you have failed, Mr Wain...

from what you have been saying.

Why do you think Emily wanted you

to keep painting pictures, Mr Wain?

To help people.

To show them.

Perhaps.

And there's no doubt that you've done that.

But I have a rather different theory.

I think she wanted you to keep painting

so you would not be alone.

When you paint, Mr Wain, you connect with other people

and you give them a piece of yourself,

but... they are also connecting with you.

And that electricity that you describe...

that you felt in the presence of Emily,

I'd call that love, Mr Wain.

And that is still here.

With the help of the Wain sisters,

the plucky Mr Rider decided to start a fund

in support of Louis

and to raise enough money to move him

to a much more comfortable hospital in the countryside,

where they allowed their patients

to keep cats for comfort.

They were joined by Wain enthusiasts

up and down the country

and even received the help

of some more influential fans,

like the renowned author HG Wells,

who made a national plea

on behalf of the Louis Wain fund.

The artist Louis Wain made the cat his own.

He invented a cat style.

A cat society.

A whole cat world.

Cats that do not look and live like Louis Wain cats

are ashamed of themselves.

But now,

as he approaches the end of his own life,

Mr Wain and his sisters desperately require

the most generous help of cat lovers

and right-thinking people everywhere.

CONTRIBUTE TO THE LOUIS WAIN FUND

For Louis Wain,

electricity was not just something that we use

to make toast or to power a bulb in the bathroom.

It was something bigger,

something so extraordinary and strange

that the human mind was barely able even to comprehend it.

A mysterious elemental force that on occasion,

he could feel shimmering in the ether,

and the key to all of life's most profound

and alarming secrets.

Look.