All language subtitles for Wilde (1997) (1080p Blu-ray x265 Panda)

Woohoo!

He's coming, he's coming!

Alright now, let's give
a good Colorado welcome here.

-Hello sir, you're most welcome.
-Thank you, thank you.

Alright everybody, listen up.

I want to introduce you to Oscar Wilde.

Welcome to the Matchless Silver Mine.

Today we opened up a new scene.
We're gonna name it after you.

How very kind.
I look forward to collecting the royalties.

Now um, why don't you follow me over here?

Great lecture you gave last night. We're truly
honoured to have you visit us this morning.

If you'd just like to step in here.
There you go, sir.

I thought I was descending into hell,
but with these angel faces to greet me

it must be paradise.
Is this the way to my personal scene?

Course I should have preferred gold,
purple and gold

but we live in a silver age, alas.

So much that is exquisitely beautiful is
wrought from suffering, from pain, from toil.

Broken bones and blistered skin.

Benvenuto Cellini understood silver

he took the metal that you mined
so nobly down here

and transformed it into works of art
for popes and princes

Cellini, is he a wop?

A Renaissance man. In every sense.

The greatest Silversmith
the world has ever seen

but a genius in life, as well as art

he experimented with
every vice known to man.

-He committed murder.
-He killed a man?

More than one.

Thank you.

I'd like to meet this Cellini,
why didn't ya bring him with ya?

I'm afraid he's dead.

Who shot him?

-Is Ms Lloyd connected to Lloyd's bank?
-Ah, no, no.

Pity.

But she's comfortable, Ada.
A thousand a year.

Then I congratulate you, Lady Wilde.

Now that Oscar's been to America
and sown his Wildean oats

-Ohh!
-It's time he settled down.

-But weren't they very rough?
-No, no, charming.

Well charming to me, with each other
it's true they could be a little brusque.

They hanged two men in the theatre
one night, just before I gave a lecture.

I felt like the sorbet
after a side of beef.

I know your friend is famous, Ada -
notorious at least

but I don't understand for what?

For being himself, Lady Mount Temple.

Don't Americans talk
the most wonderful slang, though?

Well I did hear one lady say

"After the heel-lick,
I shifted my day goods."

What on earth did she mean?

She meant that she'd changed her clothes
after an afternoon dance.

Connie my love, Lady Mount Temple
is so anxious to meet you.

I knew your father, Miss Lloyd.

She's delightful and not stupid.

-Really not stupid at all.
-Is that quite a reason to marry her?

Well I must marry someone.

And my mother has our future
planned out in every detail.

I'm to go into parliament.

I'm going to have a nice house
and live a proper, settled life.

Literature, lectures, the house of commons.

-Receptions for the world in general at 5 o'clock.
-How dreary.

Your attendance will
not be required at those.

But your sphinxiness will be essential
for our intimate little dinners at 8.

'Twill be a grand life, a charming life.

I see Constance will be
busy preparing the dinners

but what will she contribute
to the literature and lectures?

She'll create the proofs of my articles.

Oh, what a little sunbeam.

I do love her, Ada.

She's...

Silent.

-I find her very silent.
-But so sympathetic.

And I do need an audience.

I don't see how you can possibly
take it all in, reading at that speed.

Try me.

I know better.

Where are we dining tonight?

-At the Levisons'.
-Ah, then you must show your true colours

as a propagandist for dress reform.

Cinnamon cashmere trousers, I think

and the cape with the ends
that turn up into sleeves.

I don't think I can wear
those trousers anymore.

A new Wilde for the world!
Another genius for Ireland!

We shall have
to buy you a whole new wardrobe.

Ernest proposed to me under that statue.

Really, the things that go on in
front of works of art are quite appalling.

The police should interfere.

We were made not to marry.

Whereas you and Constance are so happy.
Everyone says so.

It's perfectly monstrous how people say things
behind one's back that are absolutely true.

So your audience has proved
as responsive as you hoped?

Perceptive, yes. Responsive?

I always wonder what she's thinking.

I expect it's about the baby.

Yes...
well, Constance is such a natural mother

she's invited Robbie into the nest
while his parents are abroad.

Robbie is Canadian.
You can tell by his youth.

Have you been brought to England
to mature, Mr Ross?

Well that was the idea,
but it doesn't seem to be working.

I've lived here since I was 3
and you see the pitiful result.

Robbie comes from a long
line of imperial governors.

His grandfather was Prime Minister of
Upper Canada. Or was it Lower Canada?

The British will take their class system
with them wherever they go

they apply it even to continents.

Are you planning to govern a continent?

Oh no, I don't even plan to govern myself.

Hello! Hello, sir!

If I give you these, my love,
I'll see if I can find a cab.

Coming through there,
gents, mind your backs!

Move out of the way please!

Looking for someone?

Cab? Cab!

Bedtime.

Just one more cigarette.

Oscar?

Ah no, no thanks, Robbie.

Don't stay up too late, Robbie.

Good night.

Good night, Oscar.

Good night, Robbie.

Shhh.

He's asleep.

He's so beautiful.

Almost as beautiful as his mother.

I don't know what I'd do without you

my constant Constance.

Good night, my dear.

Good night.

A university education
is an admirable thing, of course

so long as you remember that nothing
that is worth knowing can ever be taught

least of all at Cambridge.

But you told me in Greece...

...in Ancient Greece
the older men taught the younger.

They drew them out.

I look forward to being
drawn out immensely.

Yes, well um, Greek love -
platonic love

is the highest form of
affection known to man.

Of course.

You also told me that the Greeks put
statues of Apollo in the bride's chamber

so that she would have beautiful sons.

Well I can't help noticing that here...

...the statue's in your bedroom.

Constance prefers a bath.

She, she was so beautiful
when I married her, Robbie. Slim...

white as a lily, such dancing eyes...

I've never seen such love
in a pair of eyes, she was...

Nothing should reveal the body...

...but the body.

Didn't you say?

There has to be a first time
for everything, Oscar.

Even for you.

There's a good boy. Come on, come on, now.

There.

Now come on, Cyril,
it's time for your bath.

Be a good boy, don't make such a fuss.

Shhh.

No, you've got to get undressed, come on.

I know you hate it.

Boys, Mrs Wilde,
they never do what they're told!

Oh, we're going to have a girl next time

-aren't we, Oscar?
-There's a good boy.

I must go.

Goodnight, my dear.
Now you behave, Cyril.

Remember, a gentleman should take a bath
at least once a year.

Come on, Cyril

it's not that bad.

I shan't be back 'til late,
I'm dining with the Asquiths.

Hush, now. Come on, now.

Do you love me?

I feel...

Like a city that's been
under siege for 20 years.

Suddenly, the gates are thrown open and...

...the citizens come pouring out

to breathe the air and walk the fields
and pluck the wild flowers.

I feel...

...relieved.

You don't worry about Constance?

Every afternoon,
on their way home from school

the children used to play in the garden
of the selfish giant.

Is that the garden where we go and play?

No darling, this one is much larger and
lovelier than that, with soft green grass.

There's grass where we go.

Ah yes, but are there 12 peach trees that
burst into delicate blossoms of pink and pearl

every springtime
and bear rich fruit in the autumn?

Are there, Mama?

I don't think there are Cyril, no.

Would you um,
hand me a matchstick, darling?

I'll put this hussar's head back on.
Thank you.

The bird sat on the
trees and sang so sweetly

that the children used to
stop their games to listen.

"How happy we are here",
they said to each other.

I don't know how they could be happy
if there was a giant.

Ah but there wasn't you see, not yet.
He was away, visiting a friend.

You're always away.

Yes but I only go for a night or two
at a time and I always come back.

Whereas this giant,
the one whose garden it was

he'd been away for 7 years

staying with an ogre in Cornwall.

And after 7 years when he'd said all he'd had to
say, because his conversation was very limited

he decided to return
home to his own castle.

And when he arrived and found the children
playing in his garden he was very angry.

"What are you doing here?"
he cried.

And all the children ran away.

"My own garden is my own garden."
Said the giant.

"And I won't allow anyone to play in it,
except myself."

So he built a high wall all around.

Put up a large notice board,
on which was written, in capital letters

"Trespassers will be prosecuted."

Arthur, you're trespassing.

Cyril will now eat you.

It's Mr Ross, Sir, with Mr Gray.

Heavens, I must fly.

The horses of Apollo
are pawing impatiently at the gates.

I beg your pardon?

Papa must go.

You will come back and finish the story?

Of course I will!

Come on Cyril, it's almost tea time.

I really don't know why people
bother painting portraits anymore.

You can get a much better likeness
with a photograph.

But a photograph's just one moment in time

one gesture, one turn of the head.

Yes, portraits are not likenesses, Mr Gray

painters show the soul of the subject,
the essence.

The essence of the sitter's vanity,
you mean.

Well...

This is a portrait of Lady Battersby
as a young woman.

She's over there, as a matter of fact.

Must go and console her.

Hello, Lady Battersby.

How nice to see you.

Poor thing.

I expect in her heart,
she thinks she still looks like this.

If we could look young
and innocent forever...

Do you think we'd want to?

If our souls were ugly, yes.

Give a man a mask
and he'll tell you the truth.

Have we had enough of this?
Shall we go and have dinner somewhere?

Dorian Gray is the
most wonderful book I've ever read.

And the end, when the servants break in

and they find him wizened, old and dead

and the picture young again.
Oh, I fainted!

-My family say it's dull and wicked.
-Dull?

It's sublime.

It's about the masks we wear as faces.

And the faces we wear as masks.

My son should've written a work of such...

People say it's full of
dangerous paradoxes.

Hardly anyone will speak to us, anymore.

We're ceasing to be respectable.

Artists care nothing about respectability.

Oh, it's only jealousy.

It's the spite of the untalented

for the men of genius.

Well, where is Oscar?

He's in the Lake District, writing a play.

-A drama?
-A comedy. - Oh!

Robbie Ross has gone to keep him company.

I do like Robbie.

And they both love you.

Oh, it'll be a great success.

Oscar's made for the stage.

Author, author!

Oscar!

-Magnificent!
-Well done, everybody.

Bravo'.!

Ladies and gentlemen,
I have enjoyed this evening immensely.

The actors have given us a
charming rendering of a delightful play.

And your appreciation
has been most intelligent.

I congratulate you
on the great success of your performance.

Which persuades me that you think almost
as highly of this play as I do myself.

Bravo!

Absolutely splendid, Oscar!
An absolute triumph!

Thank you so much, thank you.

How sweet of you to say so.

It went so well, Oscar.

Even better than I'd...

They loved it, they absolutely loved it.

And I, clear boy, love you.

-Congratulations, Oscar!
-Thank you!

Good to see you.

Hello.

Mr Wilde, wonderful, really wonderful.

-Oscar.
-Sphinx.

We really must be careful,
you're in grave danger of becoming rich.

-It was wonderful, as I knew it would be.
-Thank you, Robbie.

Everyone's dying to know
who the real Lady Windermere is.

The real Lady Windermere is every woman
in this room, and most of the men!

-Oscar.
-Lionel!

It's a wonderful play.

My cousin Lord Alfred Douglas is here, he
would very much like to congratulate you.

-Wonderful.
-Oscar, this is Bosie Douglas.

We met last year.

Lionel brought me to tea at Tite Street.

How could I possibly forget?

I love your play.

The audience didn't know
whether you meant your jokes or not.

You shocked them.

Especially with your speech.

The more frivolous you seem,
the more serious you are, aren't you?

-I love that.
-Thank you.

I always say the young are the only critics
with enough experience to judge my work.

-Splendid, Oscar.
-We need shocking.

People are so banal
and you use your wit like a foil.

You out through all
those starched shirt fronts.

You draw blood, it's magnificent.

I wish you'd draw some
blood down in Oxford.

Though you'd need a miracle, all the dons
at my college have dust in their veins.

At which college do
you educate the fellows?

-Magdalen.
-My own college.

Well I shall claim the privilege of a
graduate and come and take tutorials with you.

Come soon, then.

They're threatening to send me down.

How could they be so
cruel to one so beautiful?

Dons, they're so middle-class.

My dear Oscar, you shocked the whole
of London smoking on stage like that!

Excellent, then we shall run for a year.

Oscar you uh, you must say something
to Marion Terry.

She was good, wasn't she?

So good in fact, I think she
wrote most of the lines herself.

Excuse me, Lord Alfred.

Bosie, please.

Bosie.

-You must be so thrilled, Oscar!
-I know...

" 'My own garden
is my own garden', said the giant."

"So he built a high wall all round it"

"and put up a notice board:
'Trespassers will be prosecuted'."

"He was a very selfish giant."

"The poor children now
had nowhere to play."

"They tried to play on the road,
but the road was very dusty"

"and full of hard stones
and they did not like it."

"They used to wander round the high wall
when their lessons were over"

"and talk about the
beautiful garden inside."

"'How happy we were there',
they said to each other."

I hope he was a very beautiful boy.

Well, pretty.

You know, in the street Arab sort of way.

There's no point being
blackmailed by an ugly one.

What's tiresome is he's, he's threatened
to show my letters to my father.

He will show them to all his friends, I'm
sure, for the excellence of their style.

No.

No, you don't know him, he's a brute.

Really, he carries a whip wherever he goes.

He used to beat my mother.

He beat my brothers

-thrashed me from the age...
-My dear boy...

Of course, he's practically illiterate.

He probably won't understand the letters,
anyway.

By an unforgivable oversight,
I've never been blackmailed myself

but my friends assure me that
£100 will usually suffice.

Really?

God I... you promise?

Mmm. Leave it to Lewis.
George Lewis, my solicitor.

He knows what he's doing.
He acts for the Prince of Wales.

♪ Ah, leave me not to pine alone
and desolate ♪

♪ No fate seemed fair as mine ♪

♪ No happiness so great ♪

Isn't he killing, Mr Wilde?

♪ And nature... ♪

He's perfect.

He's perfect in every way.

♪ ...In accents clear ♪

♪ This joyous roundelay

♪ He loves me

♪ He is here ♪

♪ Fa-la-la-la ♪

♪ Fa-la-la-la ♪

♪ He loves me

♪ He is here ♪

♪ Fa-la-la-la,
fa-la ♪

That was lovely, well done Bosie. Mmm.

Yes absolutely enchanting, Bosie.

-More tea, anyone?
-I think so.

I don't want to sit here.
I want to sit there.

You heard what Lord Alfred said.

I want everyone to look at us.

I want everyone to say
"Look, there's Oscar Wilde with his boy."

So, what shall we let people see us eat?

Foie gras and lobster. And champagne.

For two. We do everything together.

Very good, Mr Wilde.

I think he enjoyed thrashing me.

All my family are mad.

My uncle slit his throat last year,
in a railway hotel.

Which station?

-Euston.
-Ah.

All life's really serious journeys
involve the railway terminus.

And now I must go to the station myself.

Sarah Bernhardt thinks she knows
better than I do how to play Salome.

Stay.

Please stay.

At least, at least 'til this evening.

Sarah is divine, as you are.

She will be wonderful at the play's climax,
when Salome kisses the lips of the severed head

of John the Baptist.

"Ah, thou wouldst not suffer me
to kiss thy mouth, Jokanaan."

Jokanaan is an old Hebrew name for John.

"Well I Will kiss it now."

"I will bite it with my teeth
as one bites a ripe fruit."

"Yes... I will kiss thy mouth, Jokanaan."

"Thy body is white,
like the snows that lie on the mountains."

"Like the snows that lie
on the mountains of Judea"

"and come down into the valleys."

"The roses in the garden of the Queen
of Arabia are not so white as thy body."

I'm not good enough for him any more.

I'm just the son of a carpenter,
while Bosie...

Oscar's only ever been smitten before.

He was smitten with me

-he was smitten with you.
-I wasn't smitten.

I loved him.

Well... now he's fallen in love.

I'm halfway to hellfire, I'm not joking.

Someone else was a carpenter's son.

I've given in and become a Catholic.

I find confession...

...wonderfully consoling.

I can't go to confession

when I want to kill Bosie.

And myself.

-Oscar's furious.
-He has no right to be.

He knew perfectly well the Lord Chamberlain
would never allow a play

with Biblical characters,
he never has done.

Well Oscar doesn't think
there should be censorship of plays at all.

Well of course there must be censorship

or people would say what they meant
and then where should we be?

-When is he coming to join us?
-He's not.

-He must stay and look after Lord Alfred.
-Oh, those Douglases are always ill.

When they're not demented. One of them you
know, he roasted a kitchen boy on a spit.

And Bosie's father, Lord Queensberry,
oh he's a dreadful man, Constance.

Doesn't believe in God, or marriage.

A marquis should set a proper example,
or what are the upper classes for?

I tell you, I wouldn't want a
daughter of mine to marry a Douglas.

I haven't got a daughter.

Plenty of time still, my dear.

Oh.

Oh, I see.

It's my fault.

After Vyvyan was born,
all I could think of was the children.

Ah...

So that's why Oscar spends so much time
with his men friends.

Oscar needs disciples.

Lord Alfred's a poet,
a very fine poet, Oscar says.

He's studying Classics. Oscar and he,
they talk about Plato and so on.

There's nothing wrong.

Really, there isn't.

It's not whether there is anything wrong

it's whether or not there appears to be.

That's all people care about.

The Empire was not built
by men like Bosie Douglas.

"Then the spring came."

"Only in the garden of the selfish giant,
it was still winter."

"The birds did not care to sing in it,
as there were no children"

"and the trees forgot to blossom."

"The snow covered up the grass
with her great white cloak"

"and the frost painted
all the trees silver."

Let's go out.

If you like.

The thing about renters is,
you don't have to consider their feelings.

No, but if someone is willing to give one
pleasure, one should show gratitude, at least.

No, money, that's all they want.

What's wonderful about going to
Taylor's is no-one pretends.

You just do it and be done with it.

I do love you, Oscar.

But variety is the spice of life.

You can watch me if you like.

You must attempt to keep a grasp
upon your sobriety.

-Just don't be sick on your suit, always puts 'em off.
-That is disgusting, we'll have less of that.

...asking the time, that's all.

-Evening!
-Lord Alfred! - Evening, Lord Alfred.

Alfred Taylor, this is Oscar.

Delighted to make your acquaintance, Oscar.

-How do you do, Mr Taylor.
-Charles Parker, I remember you.

Hello, Oscar.

-Good to see you again.
-And you.

-Do you smoke?
-Oh, I do everything.

-Everything that pays!
-Expertly, I might add.

Every day...

Mr Wilde, some wine?

Thank you.

-It's a nice case.
-I want you to keep it.

Thank you.

So, this is a den of vice?

I should call it more of a garden.

Such pretty flowers, Mr Taylor.

How wise of you to keep the curtains closed

they would never grow in
the common light of day.

-Here, who are you calling common?
-Certainly not you, dear boy.

You seem to be a flower of the rarest hue.

Bosie never told me
that you were a botanist, Mr Taylor.

That you roam the earth
climbing the highest peaks of the Himalayas

and plunging into the darkest forests
of Borneo to return

triumphant to this delightful
conservatory in the shadow of

Westminster Abbey
to exhibit your... specimens.

The boys are all Londoners, actually.

Impossible, I see Londoners everyday

but never such... exotic blooms as these.

Does he always talk like this?

Not when he's in bed.

I am discreet.

Bosie of course is far too grand and well
born for that, he wants everyone to know.

-Oscar, you must understand...
-I must be with young people, Robbie.

They're so frank and free.

They make me feel young myself.

That's all very well,
but what would you say

if someone wanted to
go to bed with your son?

Cyril's 8!

What will you say when he's 18?

Nothing.

He must do as his nature dictates

as I only wish I had done.

"'I do believe the spring has
come at last', said the giant."

"And he jumped out of bed
and looked out of the window."

-And what did he see?
-Ah, you tell me.

No, you tell it!

Alright, "he saw the most wonderful sight."

"Through a little hole in the wall, the
children had crept back into the garden"

"and were sitting on the
branches of the trees."

"On every tree that he could see,
there was a little child."

-"And the trees were so glad that..."
-They covered themselves with blossoms!

Blossoms!

"And were waving their arms gently
above the children's heads."

"And the birds were twittering
and singing above them with delight."

-Oscar?
-"And the flowers were looking up through the grass and laughing."

Oscar!

-It's time the boys change, you'll miss the train!
-Ah.

-Come on, boys.
-Oh Papa, can't we stay?

Oh, Papa's got to work!
He's got to finish his play.

-Yes, poor, dear Papa.
-Poor Papa.

Poor, poor, poor, poor, poor Papa.

Where is Oscar, we haven't seen him at all?

Where do you think he is?
He's working. He is a writer, after all.

I hear your father's
threatening to shoot Lord Roseberry.

Really? He usually prefers the horse whip.

Says he's been buggering your brother.

Well Roseberry is Secretary of State for
Foreign Affairs and Francis is his Private Secretary.

Actually, Francis is about to get engaged.

What's your father talking about, then?

He's obsessed with sex.

He thinks Oscar's buggering me,
as though I'd allow anyone to do that.

I'm sick of the country.

Let's get back to London.

Well what's the point of us living together
if you're always working?

-I have responsibilities, a wife and family.
-Oh God, not that again.

I ask my friends over from Oxford
and you just disappear.

I'd be better off staying at my mother's.
At least she's there.

-Bosie, you asked me especially to take this house.
-Well now I'm bored with it.

And with you.

I can't give it up,
it's paid for in advance.

And until I've finished my new...

Bosie, dear.

You have beauty, you have breeding
and most glorious of all you have youth.

But you are very fantastical if you think that
pleasures don't have to be earned and paid for.

Whenever I want to do anything,
you say you can't afford it.

But you give all those
renters cigarette cases.

But I lavish presents on you!

Every penny I have earnt from my play,
I have spent on you!

Oh I'm sure you've been counting!

You're so mean and penny-pinching
and middle-class.

All you can think about
is your bank balance!

Bosie, for God's sake, this is intolerable!

No gentleman ever has the slightest idea
what his bank balance is!

You're absurd!

Telling everyone how they ought to live.

You're so vulgar!

I never want to see you again. Ever.

Alright then if that's what you want,
then you go.

Go on, go!
Get out, get out!

"But in the farthest corner
of the garden, it was still winter"

"and in it was standing a little boy."

"He was so small, he couldn't reach up
to the branches of the tree."

"'Climb up, little boy!'
said the tree."

"But the little boy was too tiny."

Egypt is lovely this time of year.

-You mustn't idle your time away.
-Oh, mother...

And I want you to promise me something.

Not to write to Oscar Wilde.

-I can't do that. - Bosie...
-I love Oscar.

I love him as a disciple loves his teacher.

But he's not fit to teach anything,
he's evil.

Do you really think your own son
could love someone evil?

I just wish I could love Oscar
as loyally, devotedly

unselfishly and purely as he loves me.

But I'm not as good as he is.

I probably never will be.

Goodbye, then.

"I adore simple pleasures,
they are the last refuge of the complex."

"But, if you wish, let us stay here."

"Yes, let us stay here."

"The book of life begins with a man
and a woman in a garden."

"It ends with revelations."

Um, yes, Mr Tree, may I?

I'm delighted of course
that you find my lines funny

but please don't try and make
the audience laugh with them.

They should sound
completely spontaneous and natural

as though people spoke
like that all the time.

Yes, of course.

Let's try again.

You should break with Bosie more often,
Oscar

then we'd have more of your
spontaneous and natural plays.

I suppose he was envious,
that's why he stopped Oscar working.

-Robbie please, that's not true.
-Of course it is.

His poems aren't nearly
as good as you pretend.

And he knows it.

-He's just a shallow little...
-Rivulet.

Bosie's a child, a vulnerable child.
He needs love.

Oh, we all need love.

But which of us can give it?

♪ We wish you a Merry
Christmas, we wish you a Merry Christmas ♪

♪ We wish you a Merry Christmas
and a Happy New Year ♪

♪ Good tidings we bring
to you and your kin ♪

♪ We wish you a Merry Christmas
and a Happy New Year! ♪

Cracker time!

It is cracker time!

Oh, I won this time!
Look there, one for you, one for me.

"And the giant's heart melted
as he looked out."

"'How selfish I have been',
he said."

"'Now I know why the spring
would not come here.'"

"'I will put that little boy on top of
the tree and I will knock down the wall'"

"'and my garden shall be the children's
playground forever and ever.'"

"He was really very sorry
for what he had done."

This is really nice!

"So he crept downstairs
and opened the front door quite softly"

"and went out into the garden."

"The little boy did not run away"

"for his eyes were so full of tears
that he did not see the giant coming."

"And the giant stole up behind him,
and took him gently by the hand"

"and put him up into the tree."

"And the tree broke at once into blossom"

"and the birds came and sang on it,
and the little boy"

"stretched out his two arms
and flung them round the giant's neck"

"and kissed him."

Oscar!

Oh, I don't care what people think,
I love you!

I love you, it's all that matters to me.

It was agony being away from you, just...
well, here I am.

Oh Bosie, you're my catastrophe, my doom

everyone says so, even me!

I missed you.

I uh, thought you might like something
to celebrate your return.

Oscar...

When I saw them in the window, they begged
me on their knees to make them yours.

I'll put them on now, they're superb.

No, no, no, no

-I'll sit there, I want a proper table.
-Is there something wrong, my lord?

Course there is, this young fool
wants to me to sit by the service door.

Oh God, my father.

Extremely sorry, my lord, he's new
and didn't know who you were. This way.

Bosie, you're not going to flee?

Give me the menu.

I'll have the pea soup and then the salmon.

-Will you have it with us, Papa?
-Bosie.

I'm lunching with Oscar Wilde,
will you join us?

I told you never to
see that vile cur again.

He's not vile, or a cur,
he's utterly delightful, come and see.

How do you know what he's like
when you've never met him?

Come on, Papa, you're not a man to
be influenced by other people's opinions.

Oscar, you've uh...

you've never met my father, have you?

Lord Queensberry.

Bosie has told me so much about
your exploits on the racetrack.

I've never heard such bad luck as yours
with the Grand National.

Bosie tells me that you would have won, but
your cousin wouldn't let you ride the horse?

Bloody fool said I was too old.

Why you're never too old,
besides I'd ridden OI' Joe on the gallops.

Came in at 40-1.

No horse could ever have carried me
over the jumps, I fear.

What are you having?

-Pea soup and salmon.
-Then I shall join you.

Spring is the time to lunch on salmon.

Though I always think it tastes so
much nicer if you've caught it yourself.

You fish?

I used to, when I lived in Ireland, my
father had the most charming hunting lodge

on an island, in a lake.

-Do you know the west of Ireland?
-Not really.

Whereabouts exactly?

The Christians, they go around pretending
they know who God is and how he works

well, I've got no time for that tomfoolery,
I say that if you don't know something

you should stand up and say so, not go around
pretending you believe in some mumbo jumbo.

I can believe in anything
provided it's incredible

that's why I intend to die a Catholic,
though I couldn't possibly live as one.

Catholicism is such a romantic religion,
it has saints and sinners.

The Church of England only has "respectable
people" who believe in respectability.

You get to be a bishop not by what
you believe, but by what you don't.

That's true enough.

It's the only church where the sceptic
stands at the altar.

St Thomas the Doubter
is prince of the apostles.

No, I couldn't possibly die
in the Church of England.

Where do you stand on cremation?

I'm not sure I have a position.

I'm for it.

I wrote a poem.

"When I am dead, cremate me."

That's how it begins.

"When I am dead, cremate me."

What do you think of
that for an opening line?

It's... challenging.

And I'm a challenging sort of man,
that's why people don't like me.

I don't go along with the
ordinary ways of thinking.

Then we are exactly alike.

Another glass of brandy?

I find that alcohol taken in sufficient quantities
can produce all the effects of drunkenness.

You were there for ages!

You stayed talking 'til after 4!

I knew you'd like him once you met him.

Well he's got charm, I admit that.

And that's bad, men shouldn't be charming.

It's disgusting. I don't think much of
his action, let's have a look at the bay.

Mind you, Wilde's no fool,
talks wonderfully.

Really wonderfully.

But that means nothing
when what he says is such rot.

Worse than rot, evil.

-Which is why I insist you stop seeing him, forthwith.
-Insist, what's that supposed to mean?

It means I will cut off your allowance
if you don't do as I say.

-Trot him up and down a bit!
-Look, father...

You wasted your time at Oxford pretending
you were going into the Foreign Office

and thank God you didn't
when that Jew queer Roseberry

can become Foreign Secretary and bugger
all the juniors, including your brother.

That's all lies!

-You spent your whole time writing obscene poetry.
-My poems aren't obscene!

They're in the manner of Wilde,
that's filthy enough for me.

Have you ever actually
read any of Oscar's poems?

I wouldn't sully my mind
with perverted trash like that.

Tell him to pick his feet up!
He's not straight.

Are you calling Oscar a pervert?
Because that's libellous.

I'm not saying he is one, I'm saying
he's posing as one, which is worse.

His wife's divorcing him,
did you know that?

For sodomy!

-That's completely untrue!
-I hope it is.

Because if it were true,
I'd shoot him on sight.

You will cease to see Wilde,
or I'll cut you off without a penny.

As though I wanted your money.

What little you have left from your tarts.

How dare you speak
to your father like that.

What a funny little man you are.

Bosie, come back here,
you filthy-minded sissy!

You're absurd!

And you're nothing but a bum boy!

You're pathetic!

Bosie!

I'm a bloody good shot.

Better than he is, I'll shoot him
through the heart if he threatens me.

Well, hadn't you better
use a silver bullet, then?

Here's one for the Black, Douglas!

Bosie, for God's sake!

And one for his liver, one for his lights

and for his stinking, rotten soul!

Bosie!

I'll save one for myself.

My own father...

He wants to kill me!

My life is everything I ever wanted.

I have fame...

I have recognition...

I have two plays about to open in London...

I may even have money.

The world is at my command.

Yet I can't command myself.

I can't command my feelings for you.

Thank you.

Constance, my dear.

How nice.

Constance!

Bosie.

I, uh, brought you your letters.

You haven't been home for so long.

Thank you.

So much more convenient for Oscar
living in the West End

-when he has a play coming on.
-Yes

I'm like one of those northern businessmen
who has to keep an eye on his factory.

The boys ask for you all the time.

They're longing to see you.

Oscar has to make sure
the play's a success, Constance.

I'll come round this afternoon

for tea.

It's the dress rehearsal this afternoon.

Tomorrow then, I'll come tomorrow.

Well, tomorrow then.

Goodbye, my dear.

Goodbye.

Goodbye, Constance.

Perhaps a codfish?

I've got a strong feeling that
codfish live rather deeper.

Possibly.

I don't think there'll be anything
for our table tonight, my love.

No luck.

I think I'd better stay,
you're getting a cold.

No, no, I'm alright.

Let's get the boys some ices.

-Boys, you are to stay and look after Nanny.
-Oh, alright.

We'll look after Nanny.

I could take the boys to the dentist
on Thursday on the way back to school.

Ah, but the whole point
of them having dentistry now

is so that they can stuff themselves with
sweets for a whole week before we lose them.

Are you quite sure?

Bosie will look after me.

Yay!

Oscar?

Oscar, get your clothes on quick!

I've got a present for you!

Oh God...

You're not still seedy, are you?

Bosie, where have you been? I've had
no-one to talk to, no-one to look after me.

Don't be so pathetic.

I found you the divinest boy.

Bosie, you promised Constance...

Bugger Constance, I'm not your nanny.
Come on, we're going out!

Bosie, please...

You look such an idiot lying there.
Revolting.

Have you forgotten how to wash?

As a matter of fact,
I'm dying for a glass of water.

Well, help yourself,
you know where the jug is.

-Bosie, darling...
-It stinks in here.

You'll be wanting me to
empty your chamber pot, next.

I emptied your chamber pot,
I looked after you.

Well, I'm not looking after you, not now.
You don't interest me, not when you're ill.

You're just a boring, middle-aged man
with a blocked-up nose.

-Bosie, dearest boy...
-Shut up!

"Dearest boy", "darling Bosie",
it doesn't mean anything.

You don't love me.

The only person you've
ever loved is yourself.

You like me, you lust after me,
you go about with me

because I've got a title, that's all.

You like to write about dukes and
duchesses, but you know nothing about them.

You're the biggest snob I've ever met.

And you think you're so daring
because you fuck the occasional boy.

Bosie please, you're killing me.

You'll just about do
when you're at your best.

You're amusing, very amusing, but when
you're not at your best, you're no-one.

All I asked for was a glass of water.

For Christ's sake!

There you are then!

Now will you shut up
about the fucking water?!

There are two boys waiting out there.

If you're not coming,
I'll fuck them both myself.

I'll take them to the Grand and fuck them
in front of the whole fucking hotel.

And I'll send you the bill.

Drink this.

It will help your fever.

He's ashamed of loving men.

His father bullies him

his mother spoils him
and then berates him for being spoilt.

Neither of them gives him any real love.

They're torturing him.

What's truly dreadful...

is that when he...
he can't bear it and he has one of his...

He becomes exactly like his father.

And he hates himself for that.

You're too kind about him, Oscar.

You can't be too kind about someone
who's been so hurt.

Yet if I... go on trying to come between
Bosie and his father...

-...they'll destroy me.
-Bosie's quite capable of destroying you on his own.

Look how much you wrote while he was away.

Two wonderful plays
that will run for years.

Back comes Bosie,
what have you written since?

Oscar...

You know how much I...

...love and admire you.

But you're throwing your genius away.

For what?

It's highly ironic, Queensberry thinks
Bosie and I are locked in nightly embrace

when in reality, we, we've been
the purest model of Greek love since...

Bosie doesn't like doing it with me.

I've loved him, I've educated him...

But he's never grown up.

And he never will.

I'm not taking him back, Robbie.

Not again.

I can't.

I've been very foolish, very fond...

But now I must grow up myself.

Oh, please don't do that.

You're an artist,
artists are always children at heart.

Oh, Robbie, I sometimes wonder if... oh.

Third page, sir.

My God, Francis Douglas...

-What?
-Bosie's brother

he's been found shot.

He's dead.

He's just got engaged.

Bosie...

Poor, poor Bosie.

He'll be utterly distraught.

He killed himself.

It was my father

he drove him to it.

I'm sure your father's
just as upset as everyone else.

No, he's not.

He says it's a judgement on Roseberry
and my mother.

Me and you.

We've got to stop him, Oscar.

Before he drives my
whole family to suicide.

Bosie...

Bosie, I promise you, I won't let him
hurt you ever again, I promise.

It's not enough, I want him stopped.

I want...
the whole world to know what he's done.

What an evil man he is.

-Table, my lord?
-Is Lord Alfred here?

And that shit and sod, Wilde?

No, my lord, not tonight.

Bugger must be at Kettner's.

Is my son staying here?

Is Lord Alfred Douglas staying here?

Uh, no, sir, he's not.

-What about Wilde?
-No, sir.

If I find they have been staying here

I'll give you the biggest whipping
of your life.

Well, I expect you two would like a drink
after your exertions.

I must ask you to leave, Mr Wilde.

My dear man, what are you talking about?

At once, please.

What's the matter? My father

cracking the whip downstairs, is he?

-My lord...
-Bosie...

You're not frightened
of what this little man thinks, are you?

I think the pleasures of the evening
should be resumed elsewhere.

You're such a coward.

You say you despise convention, but
you're the most conventional man I know!

Come on, then. If we're going, let's go.

-Until tomorrow, Tommy.
-Uh, goodbye, sir.

...goes in and there's all this
tropical fruit laid out...

Oscar! Wait a minute, Oscar.

Alfred, how nice to see you.
And Charlie, looking so well.

I'm afraid I'm busy this evening,
but we must have dinner again, soon.

It's not a question of dinner.
I got a letter of yours, to Lord Alfred.

It's a nice letter, Oscar, beautiful.

"Lips like roses,
the madness of kisses in Ancient Greece."

Ah,
then I expect it's one of my prose poems.

-There's a gentleman's offered me £60 for it.
-Then you must accept, Alfred.

I've never received so large a sum for
a prose work of that length in all my life.

Tell your friend that I'm delighted that
someone in England values my work so highly.

-Well, he's gone away.
-He's gone to the country.

Well, I'm sure he'll be back soon.

Oscar!

Oscar, look... you couldn't let us
have something, could you?

Bit short at the moment, you know...

Of course, of course.

Here's half a sovereign. Now you
mind you take good care of that letter.

Lord Alfred is going to publish it
in sonnet form in his new magazine.

Fuck's sake!

Oscar!

It's no good trying to rent you,
you just laugh at us.

Here.

-Thank you.
-He can be very careless, Lord Alfred.

What a wonderfully wicked life you lead.

You boys, you boys...

-Where is he?
-Mr Wilde is not receiving visitors.

-Where is he!?
-He's busy sir, I cannot...

I wish you would get out of my way,
get out of my way, get out of my way!

Excuse me sir, there's a gentleman...

You.

Listen to me.

You're a bugger!

I don't allow people to talk to me like
that in my own house, Lord Queensberry.

Or anywhere else.

I suppose you've come to apologise for
the lies you've been spreading about me?

I've come to tell you
to leave my son alone, you sodomite.

The Marquis appears to be obsessed
with other people's sexual activities.

Has it anything to do with his new wife,
I wonder?

And the fact that she's seeking divorce
for non-consummation?

Unless you swear that you'll have nothing more
to do with Bosie, I shall go to Scotland Yard.

Go to the devil!

You and your... who is this gargoyle?

You're a queer!

And a sham, a poser!

If I catch you and Bosie together again,
I'll give you such a thrashing.

I believe Lord Queensberry
once invented some rules for boxing.

I've no idea what they are, but the
Oscar Wilde rule is to shoot on sight.

-Now kindly leave my house.
-You can shut up!

I shall leave when I'm damn well ready.

It's a scandal, what you've been doing.

All the scandal is your own.

Your treatment of your wives,
your neglect of your children

and above all the, the depraved insistence

that they be as tyrannical and unloving
as you are yourself.

Arthur...

...this is the Marquis of Queensberry,
the most infamous brute and the least...

...tender father in London.

Never let him into my house again.

Very well, then.

Let's get out of this... stew.

-Get out of the way, man!
-I'm sorry, sir!

I'm very sorry, but it's just not possible!

What are you doing? Rotten vegetables?

I want you to give that to Oscar Wilde.

Thank you, sir, we'll take care of it.

I wanted to give it to him personally,
as a bouquet.

I dare say you did, sir,
but you're not going to.

He's a cur.

And a sod!

And a bugger!

You remember that!

I always told you, Gwendolen,
my name was Ernest, didn't I?

Well it is Ernest, after all.

I mean it naturally is Ernest!

Yes, I remember now that the General
was called Ernest.

I knew I had some particular reason
for disliking the name.

Ernest, my own Ernest!

I knew from the first you
could have no other name.

Gwendolen, it's a terrible
thing for a man to find out suddenly

that all his life he's been
speaking nothing but the truth.

Can you forgive me?

I can, for I feel you are sure to change.

My own one!

-Laetitia!
-Frederick, at last!

Cecily, at last!

Gwendolen, at last!

My nephew, you seem to be displaying
signs of triviality.

On the contrary, Aunt Augusta.

I've now realised for
the first time in my life

the vital importance of being... Ernest.

Bravo'.!

Allen, you were wonderful!
Thank you all so much.

They're calling for you, Oscar,
you must come on. Curtain, curtain!

No, no, no, George,
no, no.

Bravo'.!

-Uh, Mr Wilde, sir?
-Yes?

-For you.
-Thank you.

"For Oscar Wilde..."

"Ponce", is it?

"Ponce and somdomite"

"Posing as a sodomite", he's illiterate.
Illiterate, ignorant...

-It's hideous.
-We've got him now, Robbie.

He wrote it down, the porter read it,
that makes it a public libel.

Now we can take him to court.

For God's sake...

Oscar!

Oscar, you mustn't do that,
that would be, I mean...

We've just been waiting for a chance
to get him in the dock

and show the world what
a swine and shit he's always been.

To me, my mother, my brothers...

But, he'll plead justification.

He'll call all the renters
as witnesses for the defence.

-Course he won't, he doesn't know what a renter is.
-No?

I hear he's had detectives following you

-ever since you came back from Egypt.
-He can't prove anything.

But we can.

We can prove he's the vilest man
that ever walked the earth.

-Tear the card up, Oscar, pretend you never got it.
-Are you mad?

-That's our main piece of evidence.
-Look, I'm sure if Oscar went abroad for a few months

um, lived on his royalties
while your father calms down...

-Whose side are you on?
-Bosie!

If this goes to court,
Oscar will have to tell lies!

Perjure himself.

Everything will come out, whatever
the result, it'll be utter disaster!

You're an enemy, then.

No, no, Bosie, please.

Robbie...

You're a dear boy, but I can't
even think of leaving the country.

As a matter of fact,
I can't even leave this hotel.

I can't pay the bill.

We can raise you money, for heaven's sake!

-Anyway, what about your royalties?
-We shall need all the money

we can get for the libel case.

My father can't go on making all our lives
a torment like this.

Oscar, I beg you...

I'm not going to run away, Robbie,
I'm not going to hide.

That would be the English thing to do.

If you take Queensberry to court...
all hell will break loose.

All my life I've fought
against the English vice...

...hypocrisy, not that that's the point.

The point is, Queensberry's already
caused the death of one of his sons.

If I don't try and stop him now,
whom will he harm next?

He's avoiding me, Robbie.

I know what everyone's saying,
but it's not true.

It's not true.

Is it?

Of course not!

Oh, it's so shaming.

I, I find it easier to stand.

I'm going to Torquay for a month,
try to get my back right.

-Oscar's been so busy...
-I'm sure he'll be terribly upset

when he knows you've been in so much pain.

The truth is, I need some money.

Not even sure where he is to ask for it.

Does seem rather hard when he's
having such an extraordinary success...

I think I can find him.

I keep hearing these stories
about Bosie and his father.

-Oh, I'm sure you don't want to...
-Oh yes.

I do.

Men think women should be
protected by not knowing.

Not knowing only makes it worse.

Is there going to be trouble?

I hope not.

I believe a prosecution
would certainly succeed

provided, and I stress this

provided there is no truth whatever
in the accusation made by Lord Queensberry.

Of course there's no truth in it.

Then so long as I have Mr Wilde's assurance
that that is indeed the case...

There is no truth in the
accusation whatever.

Good.

Excellent

The defence, I understand,
will be led by Mr Edward Carson.

Old Ned?

I was at college with him in Dublin.

No doubt he will perform his task with
all the added bitterness of an old friend.

In writing a book or a play,
I'm concerned entirely with literature

with art.
I do not aim at doing good or evil

but at making a thing that will
have some quality of beauty.

Well listen, sir, here is
one of your pieces of literature.

"Wickedness is a myth
invented by good people"

"to account for the curious
attractiveness of others."

Do you think that true?

Oh,
I rarely think anything I write is true.

"If one tells the truth, one is sure
sooner or later to be found out."

That is a pleasing paradox, but I do not
set very high stall by it as an axiom.

Is it good for the young?

Anything is good that stimulates thought

at whatever age.

Whether moral or immoral?

There's no such thing
as morality or immorality in thought.

Well, what about this, then?

"Pleasure is the only
thing one should live for."

I think that the realisation of one's self
is the prime aim of life

and that to realise through pleasure
is finer than to do so through pain.

I am on this point entirely
on the side of the ancients.

The Greeks.

How long have you known Alfred Taylor?

About two years, two and a half years.

-Is he an intimate friend of yours?
-Well I wouldn't call him that, no.

But you went off into his rooms.

About seven or eight times, perhaps.

Did you know Mr Taylor kept
ladies' dresses in his rooms?

No.

Did you know he was notorious for
introducing young men to older men?

I, I never heard it in my life.

Has he introduced young men to you?

Yes.

How many young men?

About five.

What were their occupations?

-I really don't know.
-Oh, well let me tell you, Mr Wilde.

You met a man called
Charles Parker there, I believe?

Yes.

Charles Parker is... a gentleman's valet.

-You met his brother there too, I believe.
-Yes.

He is a groom.

I didn't care tuppence what they were.

I liked them.

I have a passion to civilise the community.

I recognise no social distinctions at all,
of any kind.

To me, youth, the mere fact of youth
is so wonderful

that I would sooner talk
to a young man for half an hour

than... well,
than be cross-examined in court.

So, do I understand that...

...even a young boy you might pick up in
the street would be a pleasing companion?

I would talk to a street
Arab with pleasure.

If he would talk to me.

-And take him to your rooms?
-Yes.

And then commit improprieties with him!

Certainly not.

Certainly not.

You withdraw your libel action against
Lord Queensberry.

Well and good.

But there remains the
question of the evidence.

Lord Queensberry's evidence against you.

My information is that the Crown
wishes to pursue the matter.

In which case...

an arrest and a charge of gross indecency

are certain to follow.

The maximum sentence is
2 years' hard lab our.

9 months' hard lab our

is reckoned to be more
than a man of our... background

-can survive.
-Um...

The children, the boys?

-I must go and see them.
-You have no time for that.

But, but my wife, I, I...

I have to say goodbye to my wife.

Unless you positively wish to subject her to
the further humiliation of seeing you arrested

and taken away in front of the gutter press

Mr Wilde, you must go.

Oscar, you must take that train.

Practically everyone
you know will be on it.

At least 600 single gentlemen,
all in abject terror of arrest.

No.

Where your life leads you, you must go.

-I defy society.
-Tell him to go.

He must save himself.

-Tell him to go abroad.
-I've been telling him all day.

He won't budge.

People have never understood
the courage he needed to be himself.

You must go abroad, too.

We must all go abroad at once.

Oscar says will you tell the boys goodbye?

I need to go through his papers.

I was always too silent.

If I'd known...

Bosie...

If I'd only spoken up...

It wouldn't have made any difference.

Perhaps not.

But at least I wouldn't blame myself now.

You're an Irish gentleman,
of course you must stay.

Your father fought when he was libelled,
I was in the courts myself, I fought.

-Yes I know Madre, but...
-You will fight these English philistines

and you'll win.

And even if you lose, if you go to prison

you'll always be my son.

Well,
of course it's too late to change that now.

If you go, Oscar,
I'll never speak to you again.

No-one will ever speak
to me again whatever I do.

Of course I'm your son, Madre.

Which is why, even if I lose,
the English will never forget me.

-Is his mother with him?
-Is Lady Wilde there?

Lady Wilde!

Get out of my way, get out, get out!

Take me away, as fast as you can.

Lady Wilde, Lady Wilde!

Have you anything to say
about your son's disgrace, Lady Wilde?

Have you anything to say?

Come in.

Mr Wilde, I believe?

Yes, yes.

We have a warrant here for your arrest
on a charge of committing indecent acts.

I recommend Switzerland,
as soon as possible.

You will have to change your name,
of course.

Oh...

I, I can't...

My dear Constance, the name of Wilde will be a
word of execration for the next thousand years.

You can't possibly let your boys grow up
with people knowing who they are.

-Think of their lives at school.
-Thank you for your advice.

I'm sorry our friendship
has to end like this.

You will always be my friend.

I am still Oscar's wife.

That must cease forthwith.

Forthwith, do you understand?

Anybody who has anything to do with Oscar

from now on will never be
received in society again.

Ever.

Oh God, Ada...

What is going to happen to him?

That's Oscar Wilde's boy.

Oscar, you must let me in the witness box.

If the jury can only
hear what I have to say...

Bosie, darling boy...

As soon as they see you and all your golden
youth and me and all my corruption...

You didn't corrupt me,
I corrupted you if anything!

That's not how it will seem.

But I must have my say, it's outrageous!

Everyone else has said everything,
anything that came into his head!

But I'm the person all this is about.

It's me my father wants to get at, not you.

It's outrageous that I can't have my say!

It won't help, Bosie.

-It may actually make things worse.
-But my father will win!

I can't endure my father winning.

You must go away, dear boy.

I couldn't bear for them to arrest you.

I can't bear what they're
saying about you in court.

Oh, Jesus Christ!

-Goodbye, love.
-Goodbye, my dear.

Goodbye, Bosie, dear boy.

Don't let anyone, anything
ever change your feeling for me

change your love.

Time's up, my lord.

Oscar, never.

They never will, I won't let them.
I won't let them!

You've been a great deal in
the company of Lord Alfred Douglas.

Oh yes.

-Did he read his poems to you?
-Yes.

So you can perhaps understand that
some of his verses

um, would not be acceptable to a reader
with an ordinary, balanced mind.

I'm not prepared to say.

It's a question of taste and temperament
and individuality.

I should say that one man's poetry
is another man's poison.

Yes, I daresay.

But in this poem by Lord Alfred Douglas,
"Two Loves"

um, there is one love, true love.

Which, and I quote

"fills the hearts of boy and girl
with mutual flame".

And there is another.

"I am the love that dare
not speak its name."

Was that poem explained to you?

I think it's clear.

There's no question as to what it means?

Most certainly not.

So is it not clear that the love described

relates to natural and unnatural love?

No.

Oh!

Then... what is the love that dare not
speak its name?

The love that dare not speak its name...

...in this century...

...is such a great affection...

...of an elder for a younger man...

...as there was between David and Jonathan.

Such as Plato made the very basis
of his philosophy.

And such as you may find
in the sonnets of Michelangelo.

And Shakespeare.

It is, in this century, misunderstood.

So much misunderstood
that it may be described as

the love that dare not speak its name.

And on account of it I am
placed where I am now.

It is beautiful, it is fine.

It is the noblest form of affection.

There is nothing unnatural about it.

It is intellectual.

And it repeatedly exists between
an elder and a younger man

when the elder has intellect

and the younger man...

has all the joy, hope
and glamour of life before him.

That it should be so,
the world does not understand.

The world mocks at it.

And sometimes...

...puts one in the pillory for it..

Hear, hear!

Oscar Wilde

the crime of which
you have been convicted is so bad

that I shall pass
the severest sentence that the law

will allow.

In my judgement, it is totally inadequate
for such a case as this.

It is the worst case I have ever tried.

The sentence of the court...

...is that you will be imprisoned...

...and held to hard lab our...

...for 2 years.

-Shame!
-Pervert!

-Shame!
-Rotter!

Pervert!

Shame on you!

Disgusting!

A slim thing, gold-haired like an angel

stands always at my side.

He moves in the gloom like a white flower.

I thought but to defend
him from his father.

I thought of nothing else.

Now my life seems to have gone from me.

I'm caught in a terrible net.

But so long as I think he is thinking of me

my sweet rose, my delicate flower,
my lily of lilies

it is in prison that I shall
test the power of love.

I shall see if I can't make
the bitter waters sweet

by the intensity of the love I bear you.

He asked me not to change.

Those were his last words to me.

"Don't change."

Well, things are going to have to change
when he comes out.

-He'll have no money at all.
-So you're blaming me too, now, are you?

I'm not blaming anyone. Bosie, you're not the
only person on this earth Oscar cares about!

You've always hated me, Robbie.

Because Oscar loved and still loves me, when
you were never more than one of his boys.

I'm suffering just as much as he is,
you know.

My life's ruined, too.

I'm much younger than he is, I've hardly
had any life and it's ruined already.

When Oscar gets out,
we'll live together properly.

We'll take a villa somewhere near here,
Posillipo

-or Ischia...
-Or Capri!

I'll take care of him.

I'll give him everything he wants.

I love him, Robbie.

Oscar's mine and I'm going to have him.

"Years went over and the giant grew
very old and very feeble."

"He couldn't play about any more,
so he sat in a huge armchair"

"and watched the children at their games
and admired his garden."

"'I have many beautiful flowers',
he said"

"'but the children are the most
beautiful flowers of all.'"

I'm afraid Cyril has got some idea
of why you're here.

I'm sending them to school in Germany.

I can't manage them on my own.

Your back isn't better then?

No, not really.

I may have to have an operation.

What I've done...

...to you and the boys, I can't...

...I shall never forgive myself.

If we could choose our natures...

If we could only choose...

But it's no use.

Whatever our natures are,
we must fulfil them

or our lives...
my life, would have been filled with...

...dishonesty.

Even more dishonesty
than there actually was.

I've always loved you, Constance.

You must believe me.

I don't see how you can have done,
not truly.

-Not if all the time...
-I didn't know.

"Know thyself", I used to say, and...

I didn't know myself.

I didn't know.

I suppose you want a divorce.

You have every reason.

I've been thinking when you do come out

when they let you out,
you can go to Switzerland

or Italy, write another play,
get yourself back.

You can.

You're so clever, you can.

Oscar...

I don't want a divorce.

Will you ever let me
see the children again?

Of course.

But there must be one condition.

Oscar, you must never see Bosie again.

If I saw Bosie now...

...I'd kill him.

The children love you, Oscar.

They'll always love you.

Did anyone tell you?

They've been performing Salome in Paris.

"The giant hastened across the grass
and came near to the child"

"and when he came quite close,
his face grew red with anger."

"And he said
'Who hath dared to wound thee?'"

"For on the palms of the child's hands
were the prints of two nails"

"and the prints of two nails
were on his little feet."

"'Who hath dared to wound thee?'
cried the giant."

"'Tell me that I may take my big sword
and slay him.'"

"'Nay', answered the child"

"'but these are the wounds of love.'"

Bosie thinks I'm jealous.

I think it will come as
a shock to Bosie to realise

that even he is relatively unimportant
in the scheme of things.

But no doubt,
Bosie will be remembered as long as Oscar.

Unfortunately.

I sometimes wonder...

...If I hadn't, um...

...pushed him into...

Don't.

Oscar was very lucky to meet you, Robbie.

Think who else it might have been.

Oh, I'll have that one, thank you.

Must you go abroad again at once?

I shouldn't be here now.

But has he got anywhere to go,
when he's released?

It'll have to be in France.

I'm going to see what I can arrange.

But here...

When he leaves prison...

-Goodbye, Mr Harris.
-Goodbye, sir.

Goodbye, Mr Snow. Thank you.

Oscar...

My dear Sphinx.

How marvellous of you to know
what hat to wear at 7 in the morning

to meet a friend who's been away.

-No, I'll keep this.
-What is it?

It's a letter to Bosie

telling him how I love him
but can never see him again.

I'm going to ask Robbie to have it
copied out before I send it.

I rather fear Bosie
might throw it on the fire.

I call it "de profundis",
it comes from the very depths.

"I know not whether laws be right
or whether laws be wrong."

"All that we know who lie in jail"

"is that the wall is strong."

"And that each day is like a year"

"a year whose days are long."

"Yet each man kills the thing he loves."

"By each let this be heard."

"Some do it with a bitter look,
some with a flattering word."

"The coward does it with a kiss,
the brave man with a sword."

"Some kill their love when they are young"

"and some when they are old."

"Some strangle with the hands of lust,
some with the hands of gold."

"The kindest use a knife"

"because the dead so soon grow cold."

I'm sure we can find a hotel near here.

Somewhere where you can work.

-I've decided to see him again, Robbie.
-Yes.

I thought you might.

I have nothing left.

I have lost my wife...

...I've lost my children.

They won't allow me to see them now.

No-one will ever read
my plays or books again.

Yes they will.

Bosie loves me more
than he loves anyone else.

As much as he can love.

And allow himself to be loved.

I think we need some more wine.

I find that alcohol...

...taken in sufficient quantities...

can bring about all the
effects of drunkenness.

Life cheats us with shadows.

We ask it for pleasure, it gives it to us

with bitterness and
disappointment in its train.

And we find ourselves looking
with dull heart of stone

at the tress of gold-flecked hair that we had
once so wildly worshipped and so madly kissed.

Oscar!

In this world,
there are only two tragedies.

One is not getting what one wants.
The other...

...is getting it.