All language subtitles for Voice.x264-CiNEFiLE

"You are dancing with
the only handsome girl in the room,"

observed Mr Barclay,
looking at the oldest Miss Beauclaire.

Elizabeth was gratified,
perhaps even elated.

He was so excessively handsome.

And she felt charming
and elegant in her dress.

The evening had risen
to her splendid expectations.

He had now danced with her twice.

And though she had also danced twice

with the horrid and unagreeable
Mr King,

a man whose ankle she had prayed
to be sprained on their first encounter,

the event was turning
into a kind of success

that would even please her mother.

The advice that had long confused her
began to take on a sense.

It had been correct to wait.

She could now understand that much.

The weeks of silence had
been a shrewd move.

She felt fully in command, yet ready
to give herself up at a moment's notice.

Meanwhile outside this glittering room,

a man with a different view
of the proceedings drew close.

Unshackled by the civilities,
he was free to stand at a remove,

and sneer with
a supercilious offensiveness.

Had Elizabeth been able to see his face,

she would have been
unable to dance further.

Tune in again tomorrow
to the next exciting episode

of this great romance,

Thus Engaged by Fats Bannerman.

You are listening to station PAP 106 FM.

And now, a word from our sponsor.

Thanks FX. Nice show.

So Elizabeth had not enjoyed
the coach journey.

Her close proximity to an uncouth lout,

intent on the singing of bawdy songs

had been most upsetting.

Hello. Yeah.

Are you sure?

We won?

We've won!

Oh, Frank!

Frank, that's great, yeah.
Oh, really great news.

Oh, thank you!

Thanks.

Hey, say...

Does FX know?

Will... Will you phone him?

Good, good.

Did they mention him?

Oh!

Shame.

Yeah, best effects man in the business.

Yeah, sure.

Great, thanks.

Thanks for calling.

Bye.

The message that she had been
waiting for had at last arrived,

though, in itself,
it was inconsequential.

But she had a...

A feeling of warmth.

She had been accepted.
She had been acknowledged.

A path now lay open to her,

a new kind of society.

But for Sarah and Louise,

neither the writer nor the letter,

had in anyway been interesting.

Come on Fats. Carry on.

She was utterly confused.

His declaration and, then further,
his proposal...

Next door, the party continued unabated,

and she could only but wish
that her mother had not withdrawn

at such an inopportune moment.

His speech with all its solemn
composure continued.

It was absolutely necessary
to interrupt him, now.

"You are too hasty, sir," she cried.

"You forget that I have made no answer.

"Let me do it,
without further loss of time.

"Accept my thanks
for the compliment you pay me.

"I am sensible of the honour
of your proposals.

"But it is impossible for me to do
otherwise, than decline them."

Did I hear him say
he's going to decline?

No, that's Elizabeth.
Captain Thompson has proposed.

We were all surprised,
not least of all, Elizabeth.

-Is he almost finished?
-Come on, Fats, come on!

Come on, Fats!

"It is usual with young ladies,
to reject the first addresses of a man,

"whom they may secretly mean
to accept, " said Captain Thompson.

"And I am therefore encouraged, and hope
to lead you to the altar erelong."

"Upon my word," said Elizabeth,
rising with a flourish.

Her glass fell from the table.

"I do assure you, Captain Thompson,
that I am not one of those ladies."

I'm gonna have to go now.
Here, hold that.

Quiet, please. Quiet, please.

You have been listening to the most
popular radio play in the nation.

Thus Engaged, by Fats Bannerman.

By your voices, the listening public,

this show is declared
the most popular fiction.

Listen again tomorrow,
Station PAP 106 FM.

Now, a word from our sponsor.

-Thanks, FX. Nice show.
-Come in, come in, come in.

Well done, well done.

Thank you very much.
I'm very impressed.

Thank you. You were great.

No, you were great.

-Hey, one minute.
-What, yeah?

There was a phone call for you.

Some reporter,
she wants to do a feature on you.

That is the number. Take it and use it.

No, look, would you speak
to her, as well?

I think she should meet the whole team.

-No, no, no, no, look.
-Oh, no, really...

Look, you write it,
I just put the noises in.

Come on, go talk to her.

Can we talk to you, as well?

Sure, yeah. Look, uh...
Well, I mean, look.

Hello, this is Fats here.

Yeah, that's right.
Is that Miss Celia Crane?

It is. Oh, great.

I hear you'd like to do
an interview, is that right?

When did you start
playing around with sound?

Four or five years ago. I just
kind of drifted into it, you know.

Oh, yes, I'd certainly prefer
something informal,

but I'm afraid that's
out of the question.

You see, I've got someone working
on my flat at the moment.

Yeah. Yes.

Yeah! Yes, I know that bar, yeah.

Well do you think it will be quiet...

You really shouldn't be asking
me these things, you know.

Because he... I just put the noises in.

Does he tell you
what noises he wants

or do you come up with them yourself?

Uh, what?

Did I hear you say
you're the sound effects man, here?

Yes, I am the sound effects man.

-Could you show me a few little tricks?
-Excuse me.

-Uh, yeah, listen...
-Good.

Right, yeah.

Half past six?

Fine. I'll be there.

Bye-bye.

Fats, I really loved your show.

Hello.

Can I speak
to Fats Bannerman, mmm-hmm.

It's very important.

Could you ask him to come to the phone.

Yeah.

This is Time magazine.

Yes. Yes, I'll hold.

Fats! Time magazine
on the phone for you!

Fats, Fats, Time magazine for you.

-Hey, hey, Time.
-It's Time magazine.

Hello.

Yes, yes, it's Fats.

Oh, would you hold on a moment please?

FX, what are you?

I'm your political conscience.

Right! And what is that magazine
you're aIways warning me about?

Time magazine.

Right! And which is the magazine
that Marlon Brando won't touch?

-Right!
-Right, the balloon please.

His declaration
and, then further, his proposal...

No, uh, I'm afraid I can't hear you.

I'm afraid you're gonna
have to speak up.

We appear to have a crossed line.

My God, is that a thunderstorm
on your end?

Well, I'm afraid you're really
gonna have to speak up.

No, I'm afraid, whatever the
proposition is, the answer is no.

I'm afraid I won't do an interview.

No, because my friend, FX,
says you're not nice people.

Bye-bye!

Oh, folks who leave phones hanging.

How sloppy.

Probably not working, anyway.

So, Elizabeth dressed fastidiously.

Her contemplation of the stranger,

directly influencing her appearance.

What could be the meaning of this?

It was impossible for her to know.

It was impossible for her to imagine.

It was impossible for her
not to long to know.

She prepared in the highest of spirits,

hoping that much would be won
in the course of the evening.

But the arranged meeting place...

No, no, no, no! The, uh...

The... Ah!

The place of their appointment,

had not obliged her greatly.

Yet the...

Yet her...

Yet her attention, her forbearance...

Yeah, her forbearance and her patience,

provoked her forward.

No.

No, it won't do at all.
Scrub the last sentence.

Good God!

I'm gonna be late.

Fats Bannerman.

Oh, God! Ah, yeah, that's me. Fats.

Hi, Celia Crane. How are you?

Have you been here long?
Would like another drink?

No, no, I'm fine!

Are you sure? I've got to get one.

-All right, all right. Scotch.
-Large?

No, no, just a small.

-Are you sure?
-All right. Large scotch.

Well, congratulations.

Congratulations?

Your show, top award.
Well done. You must be pleased.

Oh, yes. Yes, it's nice, thank you.

I think it ruins any computer forecast.

Sorry?

I mean if someone had told
me a year ago,

that the next winner
would be an 18th century...

19th century. Sorry. 19th century.

Sorry. Early-19th century romance.

Well, it's unbelievable!

You certainly have filled
a spot somewhere.

Thank you.

Do you find it difficult to write?

No, I find it quite easy.

-Has the... Has the interview started?
-Yes.

It seems better just to chat,
don't you think?

Oh, fine, fine...

-We'll see how it goes, okay?
-Fine, fine! I'm finding it quite easy.

Can we talk about your technique?

Your procedure, your presentation.

Of course. Fire away.

Oh, well... Well, it's, uh...
It's really quite simple.

I talk and FX...
That's the effects man.

Great man, FX Jones.
Will you mention him, please?

He really puts the life into the show.

You have a certain mannerism
when you speak.

Is that an affectation for the show?

-I'm sorry. Do you smoke?
-Oh, thanks.

Uh, you will remember to mention FX?
He really works it all.

I, uh...

I let him have a script, each week.

And then we talk about the ways
that we can fill the sound out.

Then he works on the backing track.

It probably sounds very
simple when it's transmitted,

but that really is the beauty of it.

Clarity, uh, he...

He produces the clarity
which never muddies my text

and really, quite subtly,
alters the atmosphere.

This is fascinating.

But what I'm really after
is that I've heard,

and stop me if this isn't true,

but that you listen to music
of that time whilst reading the parts,

and you also like to look
at pictures of the period,

to put yourself in that world.
Is that right?

Yes, yes. How did you find out?

Oh, just professional sources.

Can you tell me more about it?

Well, uh, yes. I, uh...

I have certain pieces of music

and certain sort of images,
which I use to...

Use for

a frame of reference, I suppose.

-Would you like to see them?
-Oh, please.

So, you want to forget, for a moment,
about the mucky 20th century?

Yes, yes, I suppose so.

So you want to forget about today
and all its complexities.

And return to some idyllic,
aristocratic, simple world.

Well, it's not a simple world.

Relationships are as complex there
as they are here.

It just doesn't reflect this world
in any real way, does it?

Wouldn't you say that's
the basis of its success?

No! No.

I'd like to think it's the subtlety
of the language and the characters.

-Let me write that down.
-I thought you were recording it.

Yes, I just want to come
back to that point.

Can we talk about you for a moment?

Sure, okay.

You were married and divorced.
Two children, Sarah and Louise.

You married very young.

I really don't think
this is particularly relevant.

You pay a large
alimony settlement.

Look, look, Miss Crane,
if you say so.

Where did you find this stuff?

Your wife and kids live in Italy.

And you live in a warehouse
on the docks, that's right?

I'm not sure
where this is all going.

I just find it very curious.

That someone who's been through
a particularly messy divorce,

living in terrible conditions, in one of
the most frightening areas in the city,

should choose to write romantic tripe,

set in a totally different
time and class.

Look, Miss Crane, I agree about
the success of the show.

It's surprising, but it's not tripe.

I happen to think that the subtlety
of the language holds people.

-That the characters are...
-Do you know who listens to your show?

What?

I asked you if you know
who listens to your show.

-No.
-Have you any idea?

Okay, tell me.
White, middle class, middle aged,

university educated, is that it?

Because if it is, I don't mind that.

I'm not ashamed of it. It's not a crime.

At least I have an audience, a big one.

Well, I'm sorry to tell you,
Mr Bannerman,

that in fact, it's teenagers.

And mostly poor kids.

They're the listeners in this city.

You won because you hit
the poor youth market.

Universities also study my show.

Huh, so the PAP leaflets tell us.

But it turns out that the main course
you come under is at Hull.

And that's in the study of anachronisms.

No, the fact is that kids listen to you
because they find you funny.

The older people,
and there is an older cult following,

They listen for its,
I quote "kitsch nature."

The audience you wanted, Mr Bannerman,
can see through your show.

Their education allows them to see
that your subtleties are rip offs.

"Rip off"? What the hell do you mean?

Whole paragraphs of Jane Austen,
with a few words altered.

I've never done that.

You did specialise
in Jane Austen at university.

Yeah! So what?

Would you like to see some passages?

Do you know there's
a professor at Manchester

who sets his students the task
of tracing your sources.

Is that what you meant by
"Universities study my show"?

I've never consciously done that.

I learnt pages and pages of it
when I was studying for my Masters.

I use it as a frame of reference...
That's all.

-You take it very seriously.
-What?

You take your job very seriously.

I happen to think it's worthwhile, yes.

Worthwhile?

Worthwhile for whom?
You or your audience?

-I really have...
-Can we go back...

-I have nothing more to say, no.
-To a couple of questions...

-I'm sorry.
-I like to pick up that original point,

-that we wanted to come back.
Thank you very much.

Mr Bannerman!

"We are all,"

said Elizabeth, "of an unsocial
taciturn disposition,

"unwilling to speak, unless we have
something to say, which...

"will amaze the whole room.

"Something that will be
handed down for posterity,

"with all the of a...

"proverb, or a...

"wet fart."

That really would amaze
the whole room.

Elizabeth farted loudly.
Her skirt rose noticeably.

Mr Bennet, Mr Bennet.

Mr Bennet commented
on its agreeable scent.

Here we are.

These are the stairs.

Now come on. Up, up!

Each one very carefully.

CarefuI now, push, push.

Now come on up,
all those stairs, love.

You push him. Push him up.

-Right in!
-Go on in. Give him a shove!

Oh, push, push. That's right.

Right, in we go!

This is chez nous.

Do take a seat.

Okay.

On with the light.

Fats, maybe you'd like a drink?

How come you know my name?

Everybody knows Fats Bannerman.

-You're famous.
-Thank you. Thank you.

You don't mind a mug, do you?

No, I don't mind.

I don't suppose Captain Bayton
would drink from a mug, would he?

-What?
-Captain Bannerman.

Oh, you've heard my show.

We've heard your show, that's true.

Why doesn't anybody
ever screw in your show?

Nobody ever screws.

They didn't do it in the 18th century.

But they did! Of course they did!

Well, how did they get there
in the first place then?

They didn't do it.

Not on radio shows, radio shows.

But they didn't have radio shows
in the 18th century.

What? What do you like about my show?

About your show?

We think it's hysterical.

We personally think that Captain Bayton
is a queer.

-Is he a queer?
-No, but...

I think Captain Bayton
and Captain Thompson,

have a thing going on, you know?

But, which, which, which?

Which one do you fancy?
That's what we want to know.

Do you like Captain Bannerman
or do you like Elizabeth?

I think he likes that

Captain Bannerman.

Barkley? Barkley?

Captain Barkley.
Yeah, definitely Captain Barkley.

We think you're queer.

Why don't you admit you like him?

It's very, very hot in here.

You need, um...

You need that there.

Hey.

You need to get your chest exposed
a little bit.

Ah, Captain Bannerman's chest!

-Such a manly chest.
-A very manly chest.

Look at that hair. Oh my god.

-It's a great chest?
-It's a great chest.

Elizabeth, my darling,

you have the most wonderful chest
I've ever seen in my whole life.

I knew as much, Captain Barkley.

What do you want to do with it?

Elizabeth, Elizabeth,
will you marry me, my darling?

Oh, my God! I can't. I'm pregnant.

Oh, my God! You can't be pregnant.

They don't do it in his shows.
So how can she be pregnant?

Right. They don't, they don't.

All I'm saying is they must do it.

Otherwise they wouldn't have been
there in the first place.

They do Iots of things in my show.

What? Going to the ball?

Meeting people.
They go to interesting places.

Interesting places of balls.

-Balls.
-Balls, get kicked in the balls.

-Captain Barkley, take me to the ball.
-To the ball?

-Yeah, ball we'll go.
-We'll go to the ball.

Would you drink from my slipper?

No, no, come and sit down here.

-I don't blame you.
-Come here, come here.

Elizabeth, darling,
let me take your portrait.

His, Captain Bayton.
He's going to take our portrait.

-Wait, wait, Captain.
-Put me in the piccie.

Oh! Wonderful, wonderful.

How about a little lower angle?

Oh, darling, take our portrait.
Take our portrait.

-Portrait of the legs...
-Of the legs.

Fats Bannerman.

And compromise me for the shoes.

We can actually send it to the papers.

-We could send to the papers.
-Oh, you won't.

-You don't want to do that.
-We would.

-We would.
-Why don't you come and sit down?

Would you like to see my breasts,
Fats Bannerman?

-My breasts.
-Ah! The bras.

-Bras.
-The bras.

Elizabeth, you're exposing yourself
to Captain Bannerman.

Captain Bannerman is getting
rather out of hand.

I think Captain Bannerman

needs a good slap across the face

because he's a fucker.
What do you think you're doing?

You are an asshole, mate.

You're a dirty old man.

Fuck off, will you?

We'll you, shit-hole!

You are an asshole.

Captain Bannerman is a queer
and Elizabeth is a lesbian.

Fuck off, will you.
What do you think you're doing?

Bastard.

Why don't you just fuck off.

Do you think you can do anything
just 'cause you're, Fats.

Shut up!

No! Shut up!

You think you can fondle a girl
just because you have won an award?

Shut up!

You've got a screwed up radio show
and you think you're fucking God.

Just leave her be, will you?

Just get out of the fucking place.

What does he think he's doing?

A bloody turd lying there
like an absolute asshole.

You are an asshole!

What do you think he wanted,
coming here tonight?

Fats Bannerman.

-That's enough!
-Just get out.

Just get the fuck out!

-Shut up!
-Get out! Just fucking get out!

Piss off down in the street.

Where you belong, you fucking asshole.

So... So Elizabeth
explaining the motives for her secrecy

was unwilling to mention
her father's fears.

He stepped closer to her,

full of consideration,
and took her into his arms.

"And took her into his arms."

What's he playing at?

Please, nothing's funny.

There's 24 seconds left.

...was quenching his
normal moral reticence.

And yet, as her face
passed close to his.

He momentarily felt a chill of fear.

Such an emotion
he pushed quickly from his heart.

It was an unfortunate choice.

For the captain was about to learn,

as Elizabeth’s mouth brushed his neck,

that the existence of vampires

was an eternal and unpleasant truth.

You have been
listening to Thus Engaged,

the most popular series in the nation,
by Fats Bannerman.

Vampires?

Vampires! What the hell do we want
with vampires?

Seems like a great new direction.

A new direction?

Yes, a new direction.

Just when we've got a good formula.

You should have discussed it with us.

You're not paid to make innovations.

It's my show, I invented this bloody...

But we put it on.

To an audience of kids.
Don't worry they'll love it.

Your precious ratings
will stay the same.

You could well be right.
But it's a risk.

We should have done market research.

To change right in the middle
of the show is too dangerous.

Fats Bannerman is
proving to be a source of embarrassment,

to his employees.

His new show, full of blood and horror,
changes each week.

In the latest shows, Captain Barkley
roams the streets at night,

looking for vampiresses

posing as prostitutes.

He has become a macabre character,

a far cry from his gallant past persona.

Whilst there have been some complaints
from Fats' listeners.

PAP have been more than surprised
by the huge jump in ratings.

However, all is not well at PAP.

I want wolf howls,
long piercing screams,

clanking chains, thunder claps,

banshee wails, teeth gnashing,
you know, basic comedy stuff.

The long nail was pounded succinctly
into the lid of the large, old coffin.

If I can just
get the envelope open.

The winner,

radio personality of the year,
Fats Bannerman!

Thus Engaged
wins yet another award.

This time the Horror Society

and their annual listings
published today

give Thus Engaged their
honorary prize.

She had forgotten the moon, the stars,

the blue above the trees.

Elizabeth’s every thought

concerned the mouldering head
at her feet.

You have been listening
to Fats Bannerman's Thus Engaged,

winner of five awards brought to you
by station PAP.

My friend.

-Cheers, FX.
-Goodnight.

Goodnight, Frank.

You don't like the new stuff, eh, FX?

Well.

You're the boss and, uh,

I don't know where
it's all going but, uh,

I'm following, I'll do the best I can.

Yeah, but you don't really like it.

It's just a matter
of personal taste.

I mean, you preferred the old stuff.

Well...

I liked it before you changed,
before, uh...

Before...

Before you got the award.

We won the award,
and I haven't changed, things changed.

Well, she changed it, didn't she?

That woman.

Yeah, I suppose.

I think she needn't have
printed all that stuff. That's all.

What stuff? What are you talking about?

The reporter.

I mean, this stuff about your wife.

Divorce.

Who'd you think I was talking about?

Oh, yeah, yeah. Of course.

Fats...

I'll need more dressings, okay.

Go to my car, get them.

I need hot water and clean towels, okay.

Did you do it, Fats?

Come on, I found her in the street.

Good Samaritan.
Ever seen her before?

I met her once.

Long whiIe back, I recognised her.
She was in the alley.

I don't mind how much it costs,
just deaI with it.

The simple thing's easy.
Changing the dressings.

It's easy.

What we need is pro help.

What? What are you saying?

Fats, she needs to go to an institution
where she can be helped.

What?

Fats, she's in shock, okay?

She's in shock, deep, deep, shock.

She needs, Fats,

she needs to go to an institution...

I'm not gonna let her go to one
of those places, no way. I mean...

Fats, Fats.

What's up, Fats?
What's the matter with you?

You can't undo that pain.

You...

You know what'll happen?

She will never be allowed out.
I mean, I can't...

Imagine her waking up
in one of those places,

it won't help her at all.

No, Fats, be sensible.

You live in this dump.

You write a radio play,

in which men and women
constantly mutilate one another.

There was all that publicity relating
to your violent marriage.

You'd be a fool, Fats. A fool.

I can't turn her in.

The decision was simple.

He should have attracted that attention.
Called out for help.

Explained the unusual circumstances.

His normal reticence

and fears of wrongful suspicion
fought against his will.

Fats, we're talking about a real person,
not somebody on one of your radio shows.

-I know that.
-Do you?

Yeah, deep down, yes.

Fats, you can't understand
what's happened to her.

But, I can. Look...

-Fats.
-Look.

Fats. Fats. Fats.

There was a whiIe ago when I...

I might have done that to her.
Yeah, me.

She might have been my victim.

I know all that stuff about my marriage
is bullshit.

I'm not a violent guy, but all the same.

Fats.

You haven't been through that.

No man has.

I'll manage.

Uh, I'm afraid I'll have to
leave for work now.

There's some food in the fridge.

Not much, I know, but you're weIcome
to what you can find.

I'll be back as soon as I can.

Look, I'll leave the fire on for you.

Bye.

Well, hi, it's me, Fats.

Remember me?

Oh, I'm sorry it's so cold.
I forgot to feed the meter.

Would you like some food?
Are you hungry?

Great! We have some light.

Hey! You haven't eaten today.

No problem.

Guess what I have got?

Ta-da. I have got some asparagus.

Like asparagus?
Everybody likes asparagus.

Elizabeth likes asparagus.

And I have also got some cottage cheese.

Do you like some cottage cheese?
Everybody likes cottage cheese,

except Captain Barkley.

He's not keen on it. The girls like it.

Every girl I have ever known
likes cottage cheese.

It's good for their complexion
and is low on calories.

And look what I have also got.

I have got...

A TV.

FX's up. I had to tell FX.
I hope you don't mind.

I mean, he's the only one that knows.

But, uh, I thought it'll be good for us.

I've never had one of these before.

Still, let's see how it goes.

Here we go.

You'll be able to watch it in bed.

Here we go. Let's see what's on.

Hey! How about
sitting in the chair, huh?

You can watch the TV.
It'll be a nice change.

AIso be able to look out of the window.

Not much of a view I'm afraid,
but, uh...

It's not bad. Just the empty docks.

I really think you
ought to get up, girl.

Let's help you.

Cold hands.

Here we go.

Wet.

I think it's time for a change.

Let's stay here

whiIe daddy changes us.

Well.

I've got some clothes but I'm afraid
they're not very flattering.

Old pyjama top and, oh, jumper.

Nice and clean.

And, uh, a pair of, yeah.

Well, uh...

Peek-a-boo time, here we go.

That's right. Uh...

Oh...

Into...

Yep, into the tunnel
goes the choo-choo train.

Here we go.

One footsie.

And now the other.

That's it.

And all the way up the track.

There we go.

That's it.

That's right. Let's get the
little fingy-pies out at the top.

There. Peek-a-boo.

That's it.

You do look funny. At least you're warm.

I promise I'll buy you
some proper clothes tomorrow.

But what size?

Swanky Modes.

Can be washed in lukewarm water.

"Great balls of fire,"
said Captain Barkley.

"I appear to have torn your dress."

Elizabeth looked hurt,
her dress absolutely in tatters.

"I beseech you, I implore you,
let me purchase a new one."

Elizabeth looked shyly away.

"Would it be indiscreet
to ask your size."

You know there is a way to do this.

Neck.

13.

And bust.

36.

Arm.

Here we go.

12 and

12 is 24.

And waist.

31.

And hips...

Hips... Hmm.

36.

Leg...

16, 17,

18, 19.

There we go.

...hurt any more.

Wasn't a pain that you could describe.

She lay awake in the dank dungeons,

the rats scurrying over her,

her mouth gone past the point
of screaming,

her throat frozen,
her whole body rigid.

Who's all fingers and thumbs today?

One more.

There we go!

Who looks a pretty little girl?

Have I got a surprise for you.

He didn't know her name.

What could it be?

He would lie awake wondering.
How could he find out?

If he didn't know her name

how could he send a message?

He was certain...

He was certain or at least he imagined
that it was a feminine name.

Patricia, Sarah, Louise, Anna,

or maybe Eugena, Faith, Julia.
Or was it Laura,

Francesca, Christina, maybe Grace.

Nora, he knew not.

Bitch.

It won't do.
We're losing sponsors.

But look at the ratings.
You've got a big audience.

This show's more popular
than it's ever been.

Maybe, but I don't like it,
and neither do the sponsors.

Well, that's crazy.

They've got a bigger audience now
for their ads now than ever before.

But it's not the kind of audience
we want or need.

This is an audience
that wants trash.

The show discredits
some of the advertisers.

It's an audience that wants
smut and nonsense.

It's not trash.

Okay, but it's still smut and nonsense.

Bodily functions appearing in the show.
It's all blood and excrement.

PeopIe wandering around in weird states.

Vampires, dungeons, loonies, cretins.
It's a nightmare.

You just can't follow that up
with a straight ad.

It's not trash.

Look, it's a transition.
The show is going through a change.

Change? We had a show this week

that consisted almost entirely
of women's names.

But it's not trash.

I don't care what you call it.

What we need are stories.

She was utterly confused.

His declaration and, then further,
his proposal, had left her speechless.

Next door the party continued, unabated.

And she could only but wish that
her mother had not withdrawn at

such an inopportune moment.

And yet, as her face
passed close to his,

he momentarily felt a chill of fear.

Such an... And again,

And yet,

as her face passed close to his,

he momentarily felt a chill of fear.

Such an emotion he pushed quishty...

Fuck. And again.

And yet, as her face
passed close to his...

Hello?

There you are.
I've been looking for you everywhere.

So you're fed up with the room.

No problem. I've got a great idea.

Why don't we have a nice drive? Yeah?

Maybe a walk by the sea.

It'll be good for you, hmm.

Let's do that. All right?

Hey! What would you say to
a nice walk along the beach, huh?

Some fresh air.

Nice walk along the sand.

The more Captain Thompson had tried
to make the outing enjoyable,

the more Elizabeth
seemed determined not to enjoy it.

The beach held no attraction,
the sea held no attraction,

sky held no attraction,

the whole thing had been
a complete folly.

The sad truth of the matter was that
Captain Thompson hated it too.

Do you ever remember that phrase,

"God doesn't come. He sends"?

Huh?

My father used to say that
about any coincidence,

you know, like when a bill and a cheque
had arrived at the same time.

It's a job offer, from RDOV.

They want to talk about a new job.

There are many things
I would like to see about, and, uh...

I will have to read this small print.

Oh, and if I come, FX must come too.

Oh, of course, of course.

I'd imagine you'd be relieved
to get away from PAP.

I understand things are getting
a little hot down there.

No, not at all.
What makes you say that?

I believe that the ratings
are still fine.

Oh, just wondered.

Anyway, you'll both have
a completely free hand here.

You'll get exactly what you want
at RDOV.

We want to give the kids something
really new

and we reckon you're the man to do it.

I think he is, too.

This is it. You did it.

Big time money! Big time station!

Money, recognition
and money, money, money.

Yeah, we could do with the money.
I'll be able to buy a new apartment.

What are you gonna do with the girl?

Don't worry.
I'm not gonna say anything about it.

But what are you gonna do about her?

The Bitch?

Why do you call her that?

Oh, don't misunderstand me.
That's what she calls herself.

It's her first word.
I'll take her with me.

RDOV are pleased to
announce the start of a new series.

Coming shortly, Thus Engaged
by Fats Bannerman.

The show will be broadcast
twice a week

in a new 30 minute version.

It's a show full of surprises,

exciting characters and constantly
changing situations.

Elizabeth, Captain Thompson,
Captain Barkley,

names that may mean little to you now,

but soon you'll be interested
in their lives.

"A sensation" is how the Gazette
described Fats' show last year

on giving him the award for radio drama.

And it wasn't an isolated award.

Thus Engaged has won many awards,

and we're certain it will
continue to do so.

And to engage you. Thus Engaged.

Tune in to RDOV to hear this
new departure in radio drama.

# RDOV
Are taking it to the city

# RDOV, the one for you and me #

Yeah, that's jazz.

So he was in a position

where he could have offered her
anything she might want,

but not able to supply
even the things she might need.

How can you give to a person
who cannot ask?

How much longer

could the silence endure?

How much longer
could he continue the jollity?

Was anything reaching her?

Was she listening?

Was she deaf? Was he saying anything?

He began to doubt it.

He began to wonder whether there were
actually words forming in his throat.

Perhaps, just noises.

Pathetic whispers.

Wind in his throat.

Gasps from his lungs.

Did the air move?
He knew his chest was moving,

he knew his brain was running onwards.

But that was all

gasps from his lungs.

Sighs in his throat.

Who'd ever thought
I'd be a radio man?

I certainly didn't when I was a kid.

I never thought I'd be a radio man, I...

And when I was a kid I had this stutter.

It was a real problem, I...

When I was in class, when I was

put on a spot by a teacher

to say something out loud
or something like that.

I used anything I could
to avoid speaking, like...

When I went into shops I'd point
to things rather than ask for them,

or when I was on a bus I'd write
the name of the place I wanted to go to

down on a piece of paper
and show the man.

All sorts of things like that.

It's more an anxiety thing
than anything else that would

perhaps manifest itself
in many ways, like...

A physical movement,

a stamping of a foot,

or moving my body to try
and get the word out.

Is this... I did something that...

Is it something that you...

You...

Can you understand that you...

Are you able to...

See what I mean?

The... The...

It's just that I think that...

I... I may know

why you are so silent.

I've heard you say, "Bitch."

Just... Just try.

Try... Try and say my name.

Will you?

Try... Try and say, "Fats."

Once.

Fats.

And the sky was dark to him.

The walls so regular and flat.

The floor so cold to him.

It had all changed for him
and was changing, still.

It had all gone.

He had travelled so far.

A dead landscape. All dead!

Elizabeth dead, her remains unburiable.

Out of reach, out of all,
moving away from him so fast.

It had all moved so slowly, so quietly.

This room without sounds,
this floor which never echoed,

regular and flat, so cold.

All gone, changing still,

through dead landscapes,

so quiet, so slow... So cold.

So utterly cold!

And no return.

Nothing to return to.

All gone.

All destroyed.

So regular, so flat,

so dark.

Moving away, all friends gone.

Who could he talk to?

They had all gone. Dead!

But unburiable.
Not even a decent rounded ending.

A pathetic mess!
So messy, so orderly in its mess.

So regular this mess.

This flatness.

This quiet.

And the voice.

The voice was fading,

the power...
The power of speech failing.

The man who could...
who could provide thunder.

The... The man who could...

could create rain.

The man who could create opulent balls.

Death and destruction.

Even he could

create all these.

But the power of speech,
the chance to be precise,

the hope of

communication slipping away.

A man left gibbering
into a microphone.

An effects man left to run riot.

An audience alienated,
an opportunity gone, a wasted...

power...

How about a holiday. Hmm?

No, no, thanks.

I think it's over.

I'll just sneak out before they
come and officially sack me.

I'll write a letter.
I'll write and ask them to keep you on.

Nobody's doing this
kind of work any more.

Not even me, FX.

Not even me.

Hi folks, we just heard the show.

Really good. I like your new material
very much indeed.

Looking forward to the ratings.

And what about that little stutter?
Is that one of FX's numbers?

Yeah, you're really using
yourself now, aren't you, Mr Bannerman?

What?

Your new approach, very modern.

And you're not losing
your audience, either.

-Come on.
-Cute.

-See you later.
-Yeah.

How much more will they tolerate?

What will they accept?

Is their toleration

an act of aggression?

Will they...

Will they tolerate more?

Toleration...

Hmm.

What will they accept?

Is their toleration

an act of aggression?

What happens, when all the words

are left...

What happens

when all the words...

There are no more words...

Left.

How much more will they tolerate?

What will they accept?

Is their toleration

an act of aggression?

Will they...

Will they tolerate more?

Toleration...

May I speak to Fats Bannerman, please?

I'm afraid Mr Bannerman isn't here yet.

Yes, of course I'll take a message.

Oh, dear.

Yes, I'll tell him
as soon as he gets here.

Well I'm sure he'll want to come
right away.

Will he know the number?

Hi.

Listen, we've just had a phone call,

and it sounds like it's your mother.

It sounds like she's ill.
Don't worry about the programme.

We've got another tape...

-Thank you.
-We'll put a tape on and...

-We'll cover for you.
-Okay.

Perhaps you could find out whether
you're going to have to be with her.

Hello? It's Fats, yes.

Yes, yes, I just heard.

Oh, no. Really?

No, well...

No, no, I'll leave.

I'll leave straight away
and I'll be with you soon. No it's...

It's where I should be, yeah.
No, really...

It's fine here. No.
No, I'll be with you soon.

Yeah, bye.

Thanks.

"It is usual with young ladies

"to reject the first
addresses of the man

"who they may secretly mean to accept,"

said Captain Thompson. "I am there..."

I don't want you to listen anymore.

I don't want you to listen to the show.

Understand?

I don't want you to listen.

I got the extra tape machines,
but why do we need them tonight?

Look just get...

-Get rid of the technician, okay?
-Sure.

-Hiya, Fats.
-Hi.

Didn't realise you're going to make
today's show.

-How's your mother?
-She's only been dead for years.

She's a... She's a little better.

Would you get me
a glass of water, please?

-Sure.
-Yeah.

And Patrick, would you get me
about six cards, please?

-Six? Okay.
-Six. Yeah.

Look, look, we have to hurry.
We've only got a minute or so to...

Transmission.

-These are the loops.
-Okay.

-Okay? You work them.
-Yeah.

Yeah.

You'll send this out live?

That's right.

I make...

They can't... Can't turn us off.

No.

Go.

...proposal had
left her speechless.

-Go.
-She was utterly confused...

She was utterly confused.

Go!

Go!

Go!

Go!

Power of speech...

Fading...

Power of speech...

Failing...

Speech without the voice... The voice...

...and she was utterly confused...

Power of speech...

Power of speech...

Failing the...

And the voice... The voice...

Fading...

Power of speech...

Fading...

Power of speech...

Failing the...

And the voice... The voice...

Fading...

Power of speech...

Fading...

Power of speech...

Failing the...

And the voice... The voice...

Fading the...

Power of speech...

And the voice... The voice...

Fading the...

Power of speech...

You have been listening to
an extended version of Fats Bannerman's

Thus Engaged.

Our advertised programme will follow
shortly, after the next commercial.

And the voice... The voice...

Fading...

Power of speech...

Where is it?

Where's it gone?

Where?

The window.