Original subtitles

I'll have a three inch oval Thomas if I may.

A three inch.

A nail, a nail.

Oh, oh, yes, of course. A nail.

Oh.

Goodness knows what the ladies are going to put on this stage tonight.

I offered Mrs. Unwin my ever-popular death of Nancy at the hands of Bill Sykes from Oliver Twist.

I do it to great acclaim every year at the Hamdram.

What did she say? No.

Why is that?

Apparently, it wasn't appropriate for the suffrage panto.

I'll have the ball pain now.

I'm sorry to hear that.

The ball pain, the ball pain. It's a type of hammer.

Oh, yeah.

Well, it must be in the kitchen. I shall fish it for you.

At what exactly were I looking for?

I'll come with you.

What do they teach you at that paying school?

I'm here. I'm here.

Who? Nobody's here.

I'm here, Helen.

Oh, yes. I meant somebody. You know. Somebody.

Oh, I see. Yes, I see.

Oh, should I leave until then?

No need, Gwen.

What are you doing? I'm knitting Joan of Arc for the suffrage panto.

Yes. I'm profoundly regretting allowing Margaret to stage this suffrage panto she's supposed to be writing.

My irritation is compounded by the overexcitement of Emily at playing the role of Joan of Arc.

Oh, God, who is English dogs?

Oh, okay.

Is this a real sort?

Yes, I've borrowed it from Mrs. Truneman next door. She keeps it by the bed.

In case of burglars.

No, in case her husband ever comes back.

In God, who's English spaniel?

Emily, please wave that somewhere else.

I agreed to sell the tickets on the basis that half the moneys would go to the butte fund for confused dogs.

But every time I ask Margaret to see a script, she scurries away mumbling herself.

She has been in a bit of a downward dollop lately.

Really?

Yeah, she's very disconfuffled. What with Cedric away at boarding school and Mr. Osbourn is studying day and night.

Well, that's none of our business.

You mean she's not seeing him at all?

He's been in there for a month, apparently.

The closer she gets, she's overseeing the maid, handle his night soil.

Frankie, I'd rather handle that than handle the husband.

In God, who's English howls?

Emily, calm down. You'll sprain something.

Oh, please don't. We're Harrassals.

Gwen, have you finished the costumes yet?

Well, no, wouldn't it?

Mrs. Volhackling, yours is done.

Oh!

It's Mother's Old Bed spread.

Oh, yes.

Yes, it's just that Joan has taken up most of my time.

I've created an optional pyre, which can be attached to the costume,

should Margaret want to deburn at the stake as part of the action.

She did mention she might write that in.

Ta-da!

What on earth are you supposed to be, Mother, apart from an internal embarrassment?

I am the ancient Greek poetess, Sappho, of the Isle of Lesbos.

Tonight, I watched the moon, and then Pleiades go down.

The night is now half gone.

Youth goes.

I am in bed.

Oh!

Oh!

Mrs. Bonhackling, and am I still Judith and Holoferns, whoever they are?

Judith was an Old Testament heroine who beheaded general Holoferns

because she was brilliant, and he was a beast.

This is him?

No.

No, I'm not touching that.

Oh, Eva, it's only a swede with a dab of pigs.

Oh!

Oh!

Hello, Thomas.

I have Joan of Arc's sword.

Goodness, Emily, you are quite convincing as the warrior saint.

You think?

Indeed.

Would you like a go?

What's wrong with Joan?

What's wrong with Joan?

What's wrong with Joan?

Certainly she did not suffer from hereditary ganglions.

Oh, Margaret, you hear?

Thank goodness.

Yes, yes.

I come with great, great news.

You have a script?

Well, what I have is, uh, news, wonderful news.

Yes.

I learned today that a halt has been called on all suffrage action.

Why?

A new conciliation bill.

Parliament has all but promised one million land-owning women the vote.

Oh!

We've got the vote!

Well, no, no, not strictly speaking.

But we most surely will.

It's a formality at this point.

The home secretary has given his word.

And a politician's word is his bond.

Exactly, Frank.

It's so incredible to imagine that soon millions of women will be...

One million?

One millions of women will be pouring into perling station, shoulder to shoulder.

And not just with other women.

But with men?

How revolting.

So does this mean that my justina, Ernestina, Constance Clemens, Charity Chesty, Liberty,

virginity, abstinence, moderation, patience, providence, prudence and suffrage will all be able to vote?

Yes!

What about John?

What about John?

Will he be able to vote?

Well, he can already vote, Eva.

He's three.

And it is, for this reason and this reason alone, that we won't be doing the suffrage panto.

In solidarity with our fellow suffragettes in London.

But it's tonight.

I've sold all the tickets.

I am Sappho.

And I've got a sword and Grens made a pyre.

I don't mind really either way.

I could still do my death of Nancy at the hands of Bill Sykes from Oliver Twist.

Oh, yes!

Yes, no thank you Frank.

Unnecessary and somewhat inappropriate.

Margaret, I couldn't care less about disappointing a braying mob of panto files.

But I refuse to let down the confused dogs of Bambry.

Helen, my audience arrived. We'll just explain to them.

I'm highly suspicious of your enthusiasm for this conciliation bill.

Which has been rejected.

How do you know?

It was in the very small print of the newspaper, which I make a point of reading with my magnifying lawn yet.

I put it to you, Margaret Unwin, that you are using this conciliation bill to cover up for the fact that you have not yet written the suffrage panto.

Margaret has written the panto, haven't you Margaret?

If you haven't, that's fine. But you have. You have.

Haven't you? Have you?

Haven't you?

Of course she has, hasn't she?

She has.

Oh, yes.

Have you? Tell us you have.

Yes, I'm right. All right, Helen. I haven't been yet.

Oh, I rest my kids. I will never mind Margaret.

Oh, it's chambolic. I'm so ashamed.

Oh, the truth is, I did write a script and then I burnt it.

Goodness, Margaret. What have I thought? Did you not have any kind? Like, well...

I left a copy outside Oz, but study and I hope that he might glance through it.

And when I returned in the morning, I found this propped up against his night soil.

A first two pages address grammatical syntax errors, and then he goes on to say,

the writer's derivative, Shoddy Lat in verse, and this guy's,

is none of the crippling mediocrity at the heart of this top of your gaiety.

Disjointed ill-conceived riddle. Respectfully, your husband has butty.

P.S., have we changed butchers, as my sausages seem fatter than usual?

And he was right. My pantomime was awful.

Oh, I'm sure it was and it was. Oh, it was. Oh, no, it was and...

Oh, yes, it was. Oh, no, it was and... Yes, it was.

I'm sure Mr. Oz, but didn't mean to be mean, Margaret.

Have you changed butchers? Margaret.

He wasn't being mean when. He's just an undiscovered genius.

He's quite sure of that.

Margaret. I can still be sappo. No, you can not.

Margaret, I've got a script. Have you?

Well, yes, I mean, it's just a bit of fun that I wrote for the children.

Yes, yes, not quite what we need.

But is that other than the charred remains of your tappany happening?

What's it about, either?

Well, I don't think we need to ask. It won't be right.

How do you know? I'm sure I'll play about tiggy pumpkins and wibbly kittens,

or not be appropriate.

Or is it about jiggly kittens and piggy pumpkin seed?

No. It's about a princess.

Oh, do tell us more, either.

Well, it's about a princess.

Who nobody knows is a princess?

I think we'll need a little more than that, either.

Nobody knows she's a princess because she's an orphan that's been forced to work

as a scullery maid in a big house.

Oh, you guys, wonderful.

Really?

Are you right there near this town?

Yes, I've got a script with me as a matter of fact.

Oh, well, I'm sorry, you guys.

Congratulations, Eva. A script. How clever of you, don't you think, Margaret?

I hope there aren't too many words to learn. Words make my teeth hurt.

No, no. The princess has got me to the line.

I know them off by heart already.

You can always read off the page like we do at the Amdram Hamdram.

Just bring it to life with hand-acting, or hacking, as we call it.

For example, if you're performing a line such as, I think I will,

there's a gesture that goes with it, like this.

I think I will.

I think I will.

I think I will.

Oh, that's very good, Thomas. You're a natural.

I think I will.

Goodness, yes, that goodness.

I was fortunate enough to see the late, great actor,

Leonard Heeze-Kleber finger his way through the merry-wise of Windsor.

Mertel, you could pay the wicked aunt.

Is she an alluring fun for town?

No, she's the wicked aunt.

No, thank you.

I believe, suffragettes in this play, either.

This is a suffrage panto, after all.

Well, there are the ugly cousins.

The ugly cousins? What exactly is it about?

The orphan princess goes to live with her wicked aunt and ugly cousins,

and I thought they could be the princess.

Oh, then I shall be one of those.

Or could I be the other one?

Yes, lovely. Isn't that what happens?

So the poor orphan princess, who I'll play.

Obviously.

So the beautiful poor orphan princess, me,

is made to do all of the work in the house.

Oh, Eva, this is so clever and brilliant.

Yes, Eva. Carry on.

Is there a ball in a castle by any chance?

Yes, yes, there is Margaret.

And a prince looking for a bride? Yes! Margaret, how did you know?

Right, because you've done the handram.

Could you play the prince?

Oh, no, not for me.

Why not ask Thomas? He's definitely got the finger.

I think I win.

Yes! I suppose we could give him a moustache,

make him look more like a man.

Come on, would you see? We cannot perform this.

It is a direct plagiarisation of Cinderella.

A plagiarisation? It's been stealing somebody else's idea.

I think somebody's jealous because somebody's written a script

and somebody else hasn't.

Who?

Not jealous.

If you don't want to take part, then don't. I won't.

There's such a shame, Margaret, because it's a shame.

I think somebody's jealous.

If you don't want to take part, then don't. I won't.

There's such a shame, Margaret, because I was thinking you'd make a wonderful, magical witch.

I don't want to play the fairy godmother.

It's a magical witch.

A fairy godmother.

In this juvenile piece of theatre.

What does juvenile mean? Childish.

And I'll have my costumes back.

Margaret!

Because I'm far from my own breakaway production.

Will it be a mime show?

It will be a speculative, incendiary, experimental, improvised,

probably in French.

Improvised?

Are you a Bolshevik, Margaret?

They'd be absurd, Helen.

If you wish to endorse a pageant, celebrating the corruption of a noble working woman

by imperialist greed, then do so.

We do wish to, and we shall so.

Happy to you, Margaret.

You're laboring under the delusion that things matter and that the world can be changed.

Whereas you think they don't and they can't.

I play by the rules and I win by them, which is why I'm extremely rich and happy and you are not.

I don't care about wealth and happiness.

I care about truth.

The truth is Eva's written and you haven't.

Ladies, we only have this afternoon to stage this, um, what it called again, Eva?

The dirty princess.

Oh, wonderful.

Wonderful. It's perfect. Don't you think, Margaret?

I will be in the kitchen.

If anyone wishes to take part in my extended production at Joan of Arks,

you'll tie it, suffrage the panto.

No, thank you, Margaret. I'll be too busy with my scripted play.

Why do you propose performing your coup d'état?

Tonight? I think you'll find the stages occupied.

Well, we could do a double bill if you like.

Oh, could we? Thank you, Eva.

Can I be Joan?

Oh, God, who's there?

I think there was pop between this.

Sit down, Gwen.

Would I upset things terribly if I joined Margaret?

Yes, you would. Margaret, count me in.

So, um, are you familiar with improvisation metal?

Sometimes one feels one's whole life has been one long improvisation.

Sometimes sorrowful.

Sometimes joyful. Always.

Passionate.

Yes, it's good. Good.

Um, would have you done any actual improvisation?

No.

A princess would do this.

It is Frank.

Elbow's a bit higher. Perfect.

What about me, Frank, for the wicked old aunt?

When I played the king in the Hamdram Hamlet, I did it like this.

To show the audience, I was the baddie, do you see?

Is it like this, Frank?

Maybe just what you were doing before.

I wasn't doing anything before.

Yes, do that.

Don't tell mommy that I planned to do my ugly, soft-jacked cousin as Joan of Arc.

Clean's a great you English dog.

Magnificent.

Would you like to practice your lines?

Yes, yes, please. Perhaps the scene where...

The prince falls in love with the daddy princess at the ball?

Yes, yes.

I could read him as the princess.

Yes, please. Um, so, um, they stand very close together,

looking deep into each other's eyes.

I never want this ball to end.

Me, me, only. My chauffeur is waiting in the model T Ford, so I must go.

Must you really?

I must.

They continue to look deep into each other's eyes until suddenly overcome with passion.

He leans forward, and...

I brought a few costume elements to give a token flavor to your characters.

A monocle for you, Thomas. A duster for Eva.

And spectacles and a raggedy shawl for Emily's ugly cousin.

What about me, Helen, as the other ugly cousin?

Oh, you don't need anything, Gwen.

I'm playing the wicked old aunt as well.

You still don't need anything.

Sorry, Gwen.

Well, I suggest we reconvene at 8 p.m. ready for the show.

But, Helen, what about rehearsals?

Just stand at the front and speak up.

If I may interject Mrs. Butte, in the hand-dram we have a director

who directs the hacking of the actors.

We don't have time for all that.

Then, with all due respect, you will not have a show.

Oh, very well. If I must do everything.

We were about to look at Thomas and Eva's scene with the glove.

Good. Carry on.

So, um...

Dear sweet prince...

What are you doing there, Gwen?

Sorry. Sorry.

Sorry.

Sorry.

It's extraordinary. Continue.

May I have the pleasure of trying this glove onto your beautiful,

delicate hand?

Yes, you may.

It fits!

Thank you, Frank.

Go on.

Will you marry me?

Yes.

Down on your knees, Thomas.

Sorry.

Get down on your knees and look at Eva.

Will you marry me?

Yes.

Right. It's Gwen now.

Is it? Which part?

It doesn't matter. Just do it.

Quicker, quicker, quicker. You cannot be the slow on the light, Gwen.

Which isn't exactly 36 minutes time.

Begin! Begin! Begin!

I forgot to script!

Yeah, use mine.

Oh, thank you.

Um, right. And... Oh, and the live happily...

Ever after.

No, no, no, no. That's the magical witch's line.

Oh, will one of the magical witch please say her line?

All the magical witch, Mommy.

Yes. Right.

Yes. Well, I'll do that on the night.

No need now. Next time, Gwen, please try to get it right.

Ellen, are you sure you don't want to rehearse your bits?

Eva, reading a few lines in front of the lower orders hardly requires rehearsal.

Not quite working, not working.

Um, I am Joan of Arc, channeling God in medieval French.

You are Sappho, fresh from writing an epic Greek poem in Greek.

A rudimentary Greek is fine. Can I try it with a Yorkshire accent?

Yes. Yes. Why not?

Oh, Jean-Paul. Tonight, I watched the moon and then planned for the night.

I watched the moon and then Pleiades go down.

Er, Jean-Paul, on a commune, Jean-Paul.

I watched the moon and then Pleiades go down.

De moi.

Tonight, I watched the moon and then Pleiades go down.

But you can't keep saying the same thing over and over again.

It's not improvising. But it suffers perfectly.

It's not improvising.

I don't want to play this game anymore.

Yes, that's better. That's better. Fresh and more believable. Yes, keep going. Keep him passing.

I'm not improvising. I'm going to be in the dirty princess.

Au revoir!

Abion...

Toe.

And on, Thomas.

I have decided to return.

Oh, Myrtle, thank goodness. Gwen is not coping at all with two parts.

Sorry, Gwen. Could you play the wicked aunt?

Is she simply wicked or deliciously wicked?

Was she always wicked or did she become wicked from being spurned by many young lovers?

Mother, stand there. Read this.

People are arriving already. Shall we let them in?

All right. Here's everybody calm. We will reconvene backstage.

Or backstage, as we say.

What if I forget my lines? You've only got the one.

Oh, you'll help me. What if I'm in there? Please, Gwen, she'll try to warm up.

Thomas, why don't you cover front of house?

Cover the front. What with?

Just go and tear the tickets.

I must give Mrs. Unwin her five minute call. Five minutes, Mrs. Unwin.

I am ready now, Frank.

Hey, God.

What's the matter? Never seen a saint before?

The full house, ladies.

Oh, full house for my first play. Oh, God.

So...

As the go-ahead from Thomas, house lights down.

Oh, God.

Oh, God.

On you go, Mrs. Butte. Break her leg.

What?

The magical witch. She opens the play with a little rhyme and a soft shoe shuffle.

Soft shoe shuffle.

Oh.

Yes, of course. Yes, I know. I know.

APPLAUSE

I can't hear her.

It must be a very soft shoe.

Oh, Mommy.

Just need a moment.

Mommy, are you all right?

Helen, can you go on?

Yes, absolutely. I just stay here in this chair behind the curtain.

This is stage fright.

I had it once during Lady Windermere's fan.

The only cure is to go on stage and not be frightened.

Do the ridiculous fan guy do not have stage fright and perfectly fine.

There's something wrong with the audience. They're the rum.

Sort. You show the tickets.

Gwen, you're going to have to go on in Helen's place.

Oh, no, don't let me go on, Eva.

It was like a tornado down there.

Well, that's it, then. There's no panto, no Christmas, no nothing.

Oh, Eva, no. Not no Christmas.

Margaret, where'd you help us?

Oh, yes, please, Margaret. Please be the magical witch thingy.

We can't do it without you.

Please, Margaret, step down from your high horse and help us.

Just sacrifice what you are to live without belief.

That is a fate more terrible than die.

The wig's gone to her head.

You were a selfish, Margaret, and we're so rich right now.

You're using the word please, rise in the entire line of privilege.

You're just making things up.

I'm capable of making things up.

Please, I'm afraid.

I'm afraid.

I have suffrage news from London.

Mrs. Anwini must read this.

Oh, 300 suffragettes marched on Parliament yesterday

to protest the rejection of the conciliation bill.

Don't do it, have been rejected.

The battle between police and suffragettes went on for six hours,

and their suffering was pitiful and horrible in the extreme,

with several sustaining severe injuries at the hands of the police.

Why are we waiting?

Frank, do you think you could go on and do a few minutes of ham-dram?

Keep the theatre goers entranced.

The death of Nancy at the hands of Bill Sykes.

Yes, yes, if you will.

I think I will.

Ladies and gentlemen...

Everyone, Eva, I owe you an apology.

Yes, you do.

Yes, I've been selfish, jealous, mean-spirited.

If you'd been one of my 15, you'd have been on the naughty step until tea time.

I accept your apology.

Thank you.

May I suggest we have a minute silence for those brave people?

For those brave suffragettes who fought for us yesterday?

Bill, don't look at me like that, Bill.

Leave the boy alone, he's just a boy.

Carry her, Nancy.

Yes, don't!

Quiet, Bill Sykes!

Not, Bill's. I don't hurt the dog.

Your mangy care!

Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad!

Oh!

That's what I think that's about a minute.

Eva, with your permission, I should like to make a few amendments to your script,

and then I shall join you all on stage.

Oh, what a reliefous Christmas back on!

Yes, Glen.

Oh, Mother will be pleased. It's the only time she ever smiles.

I resign.

You can't. Why not? You're fired.

I'm trying this glove onto your dainty hand.

You may.

It fits, it fits.

Indeed it does. Dear Sweet Princess, however, although I admire your beauty and your proletariat and work ethic,

it is not a princess I seek, but a passionate woman of political conscience, your cousin, the fearless suffragette.

And so...

Oh, goodness, the suffragette and the prince lived happily ever as her.

Happily together, bringing justice and fairness to this great nation of ours.

For marriage, it's not a fairy tale.

It is the union of like-minds, carrying the double-handed torture and lightment into the dark corners of ignorance.

And now I shall burn at the stake.

I'm burning, I'm burning, and we have suffragette's stand shoulder to shoulder.

So we should stand face to face with our men, seeing beyond all the tiresome, charade, her gender,

and deep into one another's unique soul. If I'm still burning, still burning, still burning.

Perhaps we may find more than we ever imagined.

I am now bold.

Ozzbert!

Really, really, really quite good.

Do I marry the prince or not?

No.

What are you doing?

Improvising. Stop it!

Thanks.

Thanks, thanks, come on.

And now, just all, thank you, thank you.

After a chance come, one come, all its Christmas tired of hell.

Sure you have the well with all to stand and weep or lift to call.

Up, up, up, do you mean?

Up, up, up, do we go?

Up, up, up, do we mean?

Choose your side of the rainbow.

Merry Christmas, everyone!

Thank you, everyone!

Oh, now that I'm with myself, I'm legit.