All language subtitles for Good Vibrations (2012).en

Once upon a time,
in the city of Belfast,

there lived a boy named
Terry, with a "Y".

And everything in Terry's
garden was rosy.

Well, nearly everything.

Fenian lovers!

Fuck off back to England!

Commie bastard!

Go on, get him.

My dad's not a communist,
he's a socialist!

And then Terry was Terri with an "I".

Is he gonna be blinded?

He's going to be fine.
I'm afraid it will mean a glass eye.

He's just gonna see
things differently.

What a fucking nightmare!

Mind you your language.

And they call this a revolution?

Meanwhile, there was
another day of rioting

across the city,
with petrol bombs...

Some people did call it a revolution.

Some people called it "The Troubles",
an equally useless word.

I'd been going out in this
town since I was 15.

I saw Roy Orbison at the Ritz.
I saw the Rolling Stones at the Ulster Hall.

I saw Dylan. I saw Hendrix. I saw the Who.
The Animals. I saw the Kinks.

I saw everyone. Everyone
who came to Belfast, that is,

and everyone did come.

Until they stopped coming.

Here.

- I thought we said ten?
- Ten for the whole night.

That's you finished.

Why?

Why? Look around you.

Nobody wants to go out any more.

She does.

A proper record collection should
have a track for every moment,

and this was the moment
for The Shangri-Las.

Are you here on your own?

I was out for a walk
and heard the music.

Thought I'd come in and see
if it was as lively as it sounded.

It wasn't always like this.

There were nights you had to queue
here just to get on the guest list.

I don't mean to be cheeky, but you don't
look like a man with that many friends.

Hmm.

You wanna know the truth of it?
I still have lots of friends.

Lots ofanarchist friends,
and Marxist friends,

and socialist friends, and pacifist friends,
and feminist friends and...

friends who were fuck-all.

And then the first shot was fired,

the first bomb exploded,

and suddenly I didn't have any more
Marxist or feminist or anarchist friends.

I just had Catholic friends
and Protestant friends.

And I don't consider myself either.
So...

So now nobody likes you?

So now I'm just a bit more choosy
about my friends.

Anyway, you're one to talk.
Where's your gang?

They don't like dancing
as much as I do.

Have you a pen?

I'm an English student.
It's compulsory.

Stick your name at the top of that.

Are you Martian?

Stop it, it's Ruth. R-U-T-H.

Well, R-U-T-H, congratulations.

You're the first name
on my new guest list.

D'you wanna come back
to my mum and dad's?

No. D'you wanna go back
to my mum and dad's?

No.

They say when you marry,
you marry your partner's friends, too.

Eric told Ruth she'd get
the arse end of that deal.

She laughed.
I don't think he was joking.

Eric and I had been
comrades since our teens.

It was one of those special bonds.

Part pharmaceutical,
part philosophical.

See, what baffles me...

Jamaica and Belfast have
got so much in common.

Cops and soldiers

giving people grief day in, day out.

Armed gangs wandering the streets,
murdering people for fuck-all.

Only they've got reggae,
and what have we got?

Shite?

Utter shite.

We stood side by side against
the dark forces on our streets,

especially the ones who
used to be our friends.

Marty. Ned.

- Forgotten about those.
- No kiddin'?

Does it not get lonely being
the last man standing?

Do your feet a favour, take 'em
out dancing like you used to.

See you around.

Fucking hope not.

Ruth's friends, now, Dave and Marilyn?
Dead odd people.

People you could talk to.

Tell you another thing I hate,
that word "communities".

Whenever anybody in Northern
Ireland says "community",

what they're really saying is "side".

- You're dead right, it's false
consciousness. - Whereas "collective"...

People of all religions and none
working to a common end.

Er, mind your feet there, Dave.

Turk.

Don't tell me.
It's Hank Williams' birthday?

Roy Rogers'?
Desperate Dan's?

Nice hat, Eric.

Terri. Are these all your clothes?

These are my clothes.
All those are my records.

- Terri.
- Where do you want them?

- Back room for now.
- All of them?

Terri.

Just came round to tell you I'm
clearing off to London for a while.

Don't take it so hard.
You're still special.

Got lifted the other night.

Couple of our old anti-war
pals were there.

That fucker Marty?

No, the other crowd.

Except, of course, they're all
a bit more pro-war these days.

Fuck me!

Told me I was lucky it wasn't a bullet.

- For what? Dealing a bit of blow?
- It's not the drugs.

It was me. It's you, Terri.

They let on like they're rebels.

But we show them up to be
just cops in balaclavas.

They want us off the streets.

You are everything to me.

I'll settle for being the
most important.

And who could argue with that?
It was so simple.

Swap rings, get a mortgage,
normal life.

I forgot, though,
where we were living

and what was passing for normality.

Just leave him.
Get in, will ya?

Terri, you say you knew this fella?

From the '60s.

He was a prick back then
and he's a prick now.

Only now he's a prick with a gun.

D'you think maybe it's time
we got out of here?

That's what they expect!
That's what they want!

Terri?

- Say that again.
- I wanna open a record shop.

On Great Victoria Street?

Bomb Alley?

Aye, you'll have to use
a bit of imagination.

So, wholefood shop down here,

I'll have the People's Printing
Press on the top floor

and your shop here in the middle.

Fucking brilliant!

Do you know how long it's been
since I had someone in here

telling me he wanted
to open something?

I don't suppose you've
any collateral?

I wouldn't get my hopes up.

These people won the
Nobel Prize, Dave.

One million pounds to promote
peace and love in Northern Ireland.

I and I is bringing reggae
to the people of Belfast.

Good luck.

One love.

Fucking hippies!

It's thought that these 10
became targets for revenge

following the shooting dead
of three Roman Catholics

from the same area in
a bar on Saturday night.

Following the murders, the mother of one
of the victims appealed for no retaliation,

but despite that appeal,
retaliation was swift.

Politicians across the divide have
expressed their condemnation of...

- What's that?
- I got a job.

...fears of further revenge attacks.
The murders are further evidence...

- Truant officer?
- Don't say anything.

...on either side are far from over.

To date, more than 1,000 people
have been killed in The Troubles,

many in circumstances that should
remind the terrorists' claims

that they have no wish
to harm innocent people.

The question of a...

You haven't anything a
bit more substantial?

You mean like a house?

It was pretty straightforward.
The 40 quid swung it.

But here, I might be home a bit late.
I've a wee problem to sort out first.

- Hello?
- Marty? Terri Hooley.

There were people in our town who
shot people because of their religion.

There were people in our town that
shot people because of their politics,

or because of something they'd said

or something someone
said they'd said.

There were people who shot people to
make sure their guns were working right.

Why doesn't everybody sit down?

Some of those people were sitting
in that bar when I walked in.

And some more of them
had walked in behind me.

You know the old saying about
the devil and the long spoon?

Thought for a bunch of cunts like you
a few LPs ought to do the trick.

Well, don't all dive in at once.

Stick it out.

Right, now, everybody happy?

Okay. Now, can I ask you
something in return?

See, when this shop opens,
there's to be no coming round

looking a donation for the
Republican prisoners

or the Loyal Orange Widows.

Oh, and another thing,
there's to be no trying to kill me.

Anybody.

Now, what about one for the road?

That was some performance there, son.

- I try my best.
- Mmm-hmm.

You see them ones there,
you don't need to worry about them.

Even the crazies remember a time
before it was like this.

It's the ones coming up behind
that you need to look out for.

It'll take more than a few
LPs to buy them off.

- You underestimate my record collection.
- Mmm?

Yeah, right.

Cheers!

Are you actually open?

Aye, we're open.

- What's your name?
- Pugwash.

Pugwash, get that down you.
Cheers.

I was sure there were
people like us around.

They'd just fallen down the cracks.

But we had reggae on our side,

and country, and folk,
and blues, and rockabilly

and every kind of crazy, brave
and beautiful record on our shelves.

It was only a matter of time
before we smoked 'em out.

Great choice!

Too Many Saviours On My Cross.

It'd have been wasted
on him anyhow, Terri.

You're probably right.

That's right, missus.

And if you've got any sense...

I said if you've got any sense,
you'll boycott the place.

Right.

Don't let the name fool you.

"Good Vibrations."

Naked capitalism is what it is!

Fuck's sake, Dad!

Hey. Boys!

Run!

Just the one today, Terri.

Ah, Pugwash, beehives
and teenage suicide.

We obviously share the
same taste in women.

Three pound.

Have you Orgasm Addict?

- I think you've got the wrong shop.
- Buzzcocks?

- Definitely the wrong shop.
- Fuck Off?

- What? - "If you don't
wanna fuck me, fuck off."

The Electric Chairs.

I thought this was supposed
to be a record shop.

- I'll order them.
- Mmm-hmm.

Now, here you go.
Hot off the press.

Here, stick that up for us.

A gig?
Who's putting this on?

Us.

And those records? Where
are you hearing all this stuff?

- Peel.
- John Peel?

Last time I heard,
he was playing Pink Floyd.

Sorry, boys.

If I'd known you were gonna drag me down
here, I'd never have printed that thing.

You know they used The Pound
as a morgue on Bloody Friday?

Fuck's sake, Dave.

There'll be nobody there!

We're The Outcasts.
Thank you very much!

Cops!

Ah, yes, the Royal Ulster
Constabulary.

The boys in battle green.

We had a bit of history,
them and me.

You see, if we find so much as two
cigarette papers in the same room,

it will be an ex-record shop.

Of course, they had some serious shit to be
dealing with out on the streets of Belfast.

You'd have thought their hands
would have been full.

Pinkie, that your own hair?
Let's see some ID, love.

- What age are you?
- 18.

Mmm-hmm, and what's your name?

Excuse me, Officer. I'd like
to report a civil war outside.

Step away!

No, no, no, you take your time.

The shootings, the bombings,
the intimidation,

that can all wait while you smell her
breath to see if she's been drinking.

Right, you three,
stay where you are.

As for you, I've warned you
once already. Step away!

Right, so...

We hate the cops.

We hate the cops.

S-S R-U-C! S-S R-U-C!

S-S R-U-C! S-S R-U-C!

S-S R-U-C! S-S R-U-C!
S- S R-U-C!

Rudi! Rudi!
Rudi! Rudi!

You might be needing this.

Boys, where have
you been all my life?

Do we know you?

Terri Hooley. I run a record shop,
and that Big Time song...

I want that in my shop.

- You can want all you like.
- Uh-huh.

You mean you haven't recorded it?

Recorded it, aye.

Who's gonna come to
Belfast to sign us?

Just the way it is.
We don't care.

Fuck's sake!
Raise your expectations!

I'll do it, I'll put it out.

- You're pissed.
- So what?

- I'll put that record out.
- How?

I dunno. How hard can it be?

Whatever you think, mate.

I'll be in touch next week, fellas.
You're making a record!

You can't just go charging
into something like that!

Anyway, we're meant
to be a collective.

We are.
You're printing the sleeves.

Here, will you record us, too?

I'm not that fucking pissed.

You'll never believe
what I've just seen!

These kids, they don't give a shit!

You have to hear them!

Now? What time is it?

I don't know. 4:00.

You have to hear them.

Everybody has to hear them.

Right.

Have you still your shoes on?

Everybody.

I finally understood what
converted Peel

from Pink Floyd and all
that prog rock shit.

John Peel. Greatest
radio DJ of all time.

He got what it was all about.

The revolutionary power
of the 7" single.

That's why all the big companies'll tell
you there's a secret to making 'em.

Come on, it'll be brilliant.

Aye, okay. Christ.

Are you the owner?

He just nipped out.

I phoned earlier. Terri Hooley.

So when can you fit us in?

I don't know, we're pretty busy.

Oh, you're joking me?

We've a couple of flute bands
coming in next week

and a jingle for
cheese-and-onion crisps.

Is that what you had in mind
when you started up?

Flute bands and crisp commercials?

Times we live in.

I have to put the dinner
on the table somehow.

And what about your,
er, rock-and-roll soul?

How do you feed that?

I can give you an hour on Tuesday
after next. 10:00 okay?

In the morning?

Come on, we're music people.

Zoot Sims, Dreams.
This brings back memories.

Amazing, isn't it? Bit of cardboard
and some pressed plastic.

All that magic, 14p.

- 14p to buy?
- 14p to make yourself.

That's recording.

Wall-of-sound production values,

top-of-the-range pressing facilities

and the sleeves are taken care of.

- 14p?
- And we sell 'em for 50p.

How many were you
thinking of doing?

3,000.

Trust me.

Up your hole, EMI.

Oh, I thought you were sending it
to EMI and Polydor?

I know, but up their hole anyway.

We made it. We cracked the code.
We did it without them.

Out of my way!

Look at that!

We'd made the records.

Now all we had to do was convince
3,000 people to buy them.

It was Northern Ireland.
Some resistance was to be expected.

There was still a circuit of sorts.

I know what you're thinking, but don't
be fooled by the collars and the sideburns.

These guys had balls.

This guy ended up in Thin Lizzy.

This guy

ended up in Wings.

These guys...

You're barred.

You can't bar us! We've never
even been in here before.

Well, for giving me lip,
you're definitely barred now.

I know people.
I could have you shot.

I know the same people you know.

I could have you sent to bed
without your supper.

You're laughing now,
but I swear to fuck

sooner or later I'm gonna get you.

Power to the people.

Right, back to business.

What, them squirrely-looking bastards
you see glue-sniffing in Cornmarket?

Doesn't "punk" mean
"fruit", anyway?

I don't want that kind
of carry-on here.

And they all have their own place.
They've got that shite-hole, The Pound.

One night a week.
They need a place to call their own.

Better stage than The Pound, and all.

How many does this place hold
on a good night?

How the fuck would I remember?

I can. About 200.

Some of these kids are only wee.

I'd say 250, once the word spreads.

Three or four nights a week.

D'you know what this place
is starting to remind me of?

What?

Itself.

Pass us the salt there.

Please.

- Please.
- This is lovely.

Oh, the potatoes are George's own.

You should get him to take you
round the garden after dinner.

So you're a shop owner and a
record-company boss now, are you?

How's your work going?

Break your heart,
some of those estates.

There's kids in their teens
have already given up.

This is the same man that used to
march round the town with me, shouting,

"Property is theft!
Property is theft!"

Catch yourself on, Dad.
It's not like you think.

All I've promised these kids
is to get them heard.

I've sent the record out to every
record company in London.

And?

And I'm still waiting on them
getting back to me.

Of course you are.

It's the most rotten
industry there is.

Bribes, payola, cartels.

Get involved in that, you'll either
end up a crook or you'll go broke.

- I'll never be a crook. - It's the
parents need the talking-to, isn't it?

Not the kids. The kids'll only
go as far as they're let.

Actually, I'm taking a couple of groups
out on the road next month.

- What?
- Just a few dates.

It's just to let people see
what's going on here.

Are you sure it's wise driving a
van round this country at night?

Look at those poor fellas
that got murdered.

Oh, don't talk to him.
He's an impresario.

The Lew Grade of
Great Victoria Street.

How many elections is
it you've lost, anyway?

Ten?

Did it ever occur to you there might
be more than one alternative?

More gravy, anyone?

Watch your step, lads.

Are these the Rudi roadies?

- Ha-fucking-ha.
- Meet your new label-mates.

You've changed your tune.

Well, I'll have grown old
waiting on them changing theirs.

Anyone else coming on this tour?

- Tearjerkers.
- Can we come?

- These two.
- Let's go.

- Uncle Terri!
- Yeah!

Cheeky bastards.

Wait. Does anybody know
how to drive this fucking thing?

We're your fucking stars.
You can't ask us to drive.

Yeah!

Where the fuck are we?

We're on the road to Damascus.

Hello, Damascus, we're Rudi.

People keep handing me
these fucking things.

They wouldn't be doing that if they
knew what happened to Big Time.

Or what didn't happen.

Hasn't happened yet. I'm still
waiting on calls from London.

Maybe when we get back.
Wait till you see.

I don't know where half
of them came from.

- Everybody out of the fucking van!
- Ah, Jesus.

- Out, out, out!
- Everybody out!

- I said fucking out!
- Put your hands up!

Whoa!

- Put your hands up!
- Whoa.

Search 'em, lads.

What the fuck have we here, eh?

A fucking scarecrow convention?

Listen, fellas, we've just
been playing a few dates.

- We're on our way back home
to Belfast. - Oh, yeah?

And where are you
all from in Belfast?

- East.
- West.

- East.
- South.

- South.
- North.

Hey, are you taking the mick, Mick?

You're telling me some of these fuckers are
Protestant and some of them are Catholic?

Never occurred to me to ask.

You ever think of setting
up a political party?

You don't wanna know what
I think of political parties.

You don't wanna know
what we do, either.

All right, let 'em back on their bus.

Right, boys, back on board.

Jesus.

We're getting reports on the radio.

You might wanna watch yourselves
going west into Belfast.

And north. Bit of trouble
in the east as well.

What about the south?

You should be okay
if you get going now.

Any calls while I was away?

Nothing.

What's it take to get noticed
by these wankers?

Don't fucking start.

Well?

"Dear Mr Hooley,
go fuck yourself." Again.

I thought making the record
was supposed to be the hard part.

- Ah, that's Belfast.
- No. It's London.

May as well be the moon.

Look, Terri, you've still got the shop.
Maybe it's time to let this go.

Yeah, maybe.

- Youse looking for something?
- Aye, you.

- Billy here sent you a tape ages ago.
- The Undertones.

- And we haven't heard a thing.
- I've a shop to run. I'm a busy man.

Have you listened to it yet?

Great. We trek all the way down here from
Derry and you haven't even listened to it?

I didn't say that.
Jesus, you Derry ones.

So did you like it?

- It wasn't bad.
- Wasn't bad?

Now, there's no way that
you listened to it, then,

because every song
on that tape's a hit.

It's too early in the morning for this shit.
Where's my fags?

Have youse any fags?

Call yourselves punks?

- Have you any fags?
- I smoked 'em all on the bus.

Steer the ship while I'm away, Pugwash.

I still think you're bluffing.

Bluffing?

Does your ma still dress you?

Look, the thing is...
What d'you say your name was?

Feargal. Feargal Sharkey.

Feargal, the thing is, Good Vibrations
isn't really a proper label.

If we don't get a record out soon,
it'll be too late.

We're breaking up.

Oh, now don't lay that on me.

Look, all I wanted was to
open a record shop.

Yeah, but you put out Rudi.

- I know, but that was...
- And The Outcasts.

Stop, stop, stop...

All I'm getting in here
is echo, echo, echo.

Hard going?

Never been in a proper studio
till two hours ago,

and now they're all Phil Spector.

So what do you think?

Are we just gonna cut
our losses here?

Cut our losses?

You didn't hear the
track before this one.

It's the best thing I ever recorded.

The best thing anyone in
this city ever recorded.

Stop staring at us like that.

You mad, one-eyed bastard.

Thank you all for answering the call.

Right, now, are you watching?

You line the record up
with the top edge like this.

Then fold along the
bottom line like this.

Then fold down here
and fold down here.

And there you have it.

Magic.

Again, here. Here.
Here. And here.

Right?

Now, let's get started.

I think you've enough in there.

Just in case.

Calm. You'll be grand.

I'm glad you think so.

They'll never have
met anyone like you.

I know I hadn't.

Still haven't.

- I just don't wanna give them
any excuse. - You won't.

Gotta get in to work.

Ruth was right.
It was only London.

And what's London
ever given us?

Apart from Ray Davies.

And Joe Meek.
And John Lydon.

And The Clash. And, er,
fuck, Abbey Road.

Holy fuck.

I know.

Amazing how far a bit of charm and
labyrinthine narcotics connections

will get a young man.

Have you had a lot of dealings
with the music people?

Fuck's sake, Terri.

That's like asking a vet if he's
had his hand up a cow's arse.

Hey, something to help
you on your way?

Better not. Can't afford
to fuck this up.

You'll fuck it up if
you're too tense.

You need to go in there
like you mean it.

Good point.

- Where are the guns?
- Sorry?

- The guns, the bombs, the tanks.
- Tanks?

And the rage? I get told,
"Here's a punk band from Belfast."

- Derry!
- I think, "Great.

"No more pissing around.
This is gonna be darkness.

"Proper darkness."

And then I get this.

Nihilism.

If anything, sounds like they're
having too good a time.

- They're no oil paintings, are they?
- No.

Do they have any good-looking friends?

And we love it when bands
sing in regional accents.

But could they not pick
another region?

- It's shit.
- Shit?

- Yes, shit.
- It's not shit.

- Yes, it is.
- Isn't.

- Is!
- It's not!

- Is.
- No.

This... This, this is shit!

Cathy, get security up here now!

This, this here...
This one, this is shit!

And this! This one,
this really is fucking shit!

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!

Fascist pigs!
Nazi fucking bastards!

Here.

- Take it.
- No, thank you.

Take it!

What is wrong with you people?

Is there not one person in this city who
recognises genius when it's handed to them?

It's just that all packages
have to be signed in.

Security.

It's a piece of vinyl.

New regulations.

Well, can you not just sign for it?

I'm afraid not.

I've come all the way over from Belfast,
and to tell you the truth,

I've fucked up a bit today.

Sorry.

Please.

No.

Terri? Terri Hooley?

I don't believe it.

Me neither.

Is this man a friend of yours?

I was doing a story in Belfast at New Year
and, er, wandered into his record shop.

He had a 13th Floor Elevators album.

Easter Everywhere.

International Artists deleted it
after the year it was released.

I'd searched all over London for it.

What are you doing here?

So, yes, that's one from the
Temple City Kazoo Orchestra,

which I'm dedicating to anyone
with a dog or who is feeling down.

This is BBC Radio 1,
the John Peel Radio Show...

I can't listen to this.

It's only been four nights.

It's my fault.

I should have run up those stairs
and handed it over myself.

Would have been worth
being arrested.

Did it ever occur to you
I might be listening to that?

...get all of this stuff out of the
morning papers, incidentally.

Terri.

Terri!

You missed it.

Isn't that the best thing
you've ever heard?

It's so good I'm gonna do
something I've never done before.

Hello? Dave!

I know, isn't it fantastic?
Twice in a row.

John fucking Peel!

Terri, there's a fella on the phone
says he's from Sire Records in London.

Terri? The fella's hanging on here.

Tell him, if he wants to talk to me,

he can come over here and do it.

Seymour Stein was
knocked out by Kicks.

Kicks?

He turned to me straight away and said,
"I want that band."

That's how he was with the Ramones...
"I want that band."

Well, I tell you, Paul, you don't have
to sell Seymour Stein to me.

This is the man The Shangri-Las phoned
when they wanted to go back into the studio.

You know that all came to nothing.

But still, they called him.
The Shangri-Las!

Seymour!
I've got the band here.

- I'm passing you over to...
- Mickey.

Mickey.

How are you, Mr Stein?

Aye, Paul told us about the offer.

Well, tell you the truth,
we'd be looking at a bit more.

- What? How much more?
- A lot more.

Same as the Rich Kids got from EMI.

Rich Kids, EMI? You know
what I'm offering you...

Hey, we've come all the way
over here to make a deal...

- What are you talking about?
- ... and we want to make a deal.

Should you not be in
there advising us?

You boys should be advising me.

I thought for a moment back there
the whole thing was off.

Never seen him quite so angry.

Well, you got your band,
didn't you?

- What about you, Terri?
- What about me?

Well, you recorded Kicks.
It's on your label.

You've got the wrong
idea about me, Paul.

People who wouldn't piss on me when
I was hauling the record around London

have been calling me up,
offering me �20,000 for it.

Told them all to fuck off.

Twenty thousand?

Well, we can talk about this later.

We can talk about it now.

Getty's as much a part of
Good Vibrations as I am. They all are.

How much is that van you
were looking at, Getty?

550, but I reckon I can
get him down to 500.

All right then, Paul.
500 quid.

Are you sure you don't
wanna talk about it later?

Five hundred quid and a signed
photo of The Shangri-Las.

Okay.

It's like my dad used to say,

"If they can't buy you,
they can't own you."

And it's not like that song was mine.
Teenage Kicks didn't belong to me.

It belonged to everybody.

And anyway, Rudi and The Outcasts
were gonna be even bigger.

Well, weren't they?

First time in, Undertones
and Teenage Kicks.

Does that make you think
a wee bit of the Beach Boys?

Makes me think of that large
hole in Terri's bank account.

You're starting to sound
like an accountant.

You're turning me into one.

Look at the state
of those trousers.

How come they're on
TV and we're not?

You write some new songs
and I'll get you on TV.

Better be getting on here, anyway.

Me, too.

Aye, hold on.

Terri Hooley?

Yeah.

The Godfather of Belfast Punk?

We would like to make
an interview with you.

So it all started for
you in 1977-'76?

No, no, no, no, no, no, no,
way before that.

Here. Wait till I tell you.
It's in the '60s.

Auf Wiedersehen, guys.

Brought you your lunch.

Thanks.

About last night.

You know me,
once I get started.

Why d'you think I never
let you get started?

I'm pregnant.

Well?

I'm gonna be a daddy.

It's unbelievable.

That's brilliant.

D'you remember the day
we moved into the house?

- You told me I was everything.
- And you didn't want to be.

That's not what I said.

I said...

You'd settle for being the
most important thing.

From now on, we'll both have to settle
for being the second most important.

The first time you're told
you're gonna be a father,

in the middle of all that joy and
excitement and anticipation,

who doesn't shite themselves, too?

But it was all gonna be absolutely fine.

All I had to do was
work twice as hard,

and make sure nothing
fell through the cracks.

This is, er, Terri Hooley.

Yes, that Terri Hooley.

Well, that's very nice
of you to say so.

I've been watching your show.
Some decent bands on.

Come on. How about putting
on a really great one?

Brian, got some great news.

- Youse over from London?
- Yeah.

Brilliant. Youse want a drink?

Hey, couple of pints
of horse piss, please.

How did you manage that?

What are you crying about?
Didn't I say I'd get you on TV?

Aye, to promote the record.

Where's the fucking record?

Did you phone the pressing plant?
Did they get the master?

Those useless bastards.

You knew months ago
we were gonna be on.

All you had to do was put
the record out on time.

All?

I've the shop.

The Harp.

You lot.
The Outcasts.

Bank manager breathing
down my neck.

Oh, oh, and a wife who's about
to have a baby any day now.

It was our big chance,
and you fucked it up.

Come on to fuck out of this.

You going after them?

Am I fuck!
I'm going to the Siouxsie gig.

That's not for another six hours.

Didn't say I was going straight
to the Siouxsie gig.

Would you not be better
going home first?

"My wife about to
have a baby any day."

The prison officer's murder
has been claimed

by the IRA in retaliation for what it calls
the inhuman treatment of their colleagues

in the Maze Prison.

Loyalist paramilitaries, meantime,
have threatened to step up their attacks

on the Catholic population.

Now, two years ago,
troubles sparked

between police and fans when
London punk rock band, The Clash,

came to the Ulster Hall.

Tonight, the venue plays host
to another London band...

How are you, Ruth?
Terri?

No, you just missed him, love.
He was here all afternoon.

...hostilities between punk-music
fans and the authorities,

or have things moved
on in the interim?

Our reporter, David Kappa,
is outside the hall

with Belfast's own punk godfather,
Terri Hooley.

I have to laugh at the great and
good when they talk about punks

being a menace to society.

We should be thanking 'em,
not hassling them.

These kids aren't the
problem for Belfast.

These kids are the solution.

Please pick up.

Getty?
Are you not at the gig?

You have to come and get me.

Getty? This baby's coming.

Just a couple more minutes, Ruth.
Look, I can see the gates.

How long have you been here?

Ten minutes.

You should have woken me.

Sleep when the baby sleeps,
that's what my mum says.

What do you think?

She looks like her mummy.

- She's gorgeous.
- This is your daddy.

He's an old charmer.

Do you wanna hold her?

My hands are shaking too much.
Probably drop her.

It's just nerves.

I couldn't get the champagne, Terri,
but if you shake this, it'll pop to fuck.

Right, that's it.
Out, out, all of you.

Right now. Out. Thank you.
Out, please.

- Move! - I can't believe you
brought them with you.

Sure, they're practically family.

But they're not, Terri.

We're your family.

I can't do this any more.
I need to get out of Belfast for a while.

Out of Belfast?

A friend of Marilyn's has
a house in Helen's Bay.

Are you telling me
you're leaving me?

I'm telling you everything's
different now.

I love being with you.

But I'm not afraid to do this
on my own if I have to.

You won't have to.

Terri! Terri! Terri!

I need you to get those lads
off my ward this minute!

I have to go.

You do.

...Belfast this afternoon...

...since 1969.

...five deaths are confirmed...

...were blown to pieces.
Others lost limbs...

...will continue their attacks
against so-called economic...

...more than five thousand
bomb explosions...

...the security forces...

- Hello?
- Ruth?

Hello?

Ruth.

You're drinking too much.

Dave, I always drink too much.

Everybody we know
drinks too much.

Well, this is different.
There's something...

Something what?

You're carrying on like
one of Led Zeppelin.

That's low.

Anything else you'd like to say
while you're about it?

I just think we have to try
to hold things together.

Oh, do we?

And will you tell us when
we can take a piss, Dave?

Or scratch our fucking arse?

Stalinist.

Stalinist?

Your dad's right.

What are you talking about, my dad?

You take on too much
because you love the glory.

You're not a socialist at all.
You're a one-man fucking show.

T - E - R - R capital I.

Forgot your brandy.

Your situation is really quite grave.

It's not just the overdraft.

It's the accrued interest
on the original loan.

It's your tax returns.

I can't stress it enough.

You are in real danger
of defaulting.

You risk losing the shop
and your collateral.

Ruth.

Our house.

For God's sake, Terri,
why didn't you tell me?

All those mornings...

Kids running away...
The fucking rain.

I was telling myself,
"This is all right.

"This was what allowed
us to open the shop."

And all the time...

- It was our house.
- It was one moment.

I wasn't thinking.

I never thought.

I just did it.

It's the same as with Big Time,
I just did it.

Same as with the tour,
I just did it.

Teenage Kicks, the Harp,
I just did it.

It's how I operate.
It's who I am.

And you know what?

I haven't done too badly.

Open your eye, Terri.

We saw your light on.

Thought I told you
you were barred.

Fuck away off and find some
old ladies to frighten.

You're very funny.
Isn't he, Hatchett?

- Isn't he very funny?
- Oh, aye.

Actually, this is a business call.

Me and Hatchett's in a band now.

- Aren't we, Hatchett?
- We are.

Tight wee unit.

Fuck's sake!
Behave.

Thought you might be in
interested in our demo tape.

We were gonna call it The Only
Good Wog's A Dead Wog,

and then we thought,
The Only Good Taig...

And then we thought,
The Only Good One's A Dead One.

Covered pretty much everything.

I'd sooner sell bog rolls
than Nazi shite like that.

You'll sell what I tell you to sell.

I'm used to getting me own way.

Ask the fellas you used to say
would put me to bed.

You made such a big deal
about not letting me in here.

And look at it. It's fuck-all.
You're fuck-all.

You're fucking lost.

Open your eye.

Very funny. The other one.

That must have been some door.

What was it, a car ferry?

Don't suppose there's any point
in me mentioning the police?

They'd probably wanna
buy the door a drink.

I never knew a wee boy as bad at
keeping his head out of harm's way.

And what does Ruth
think about all this?

Here.

Did your mother send
you out with that?

Thought I'd better offer
before she put the window in.

She's getting herself worked up
about me and Ruth.

She has very strong
views on marriage.

She wouldn't have stayed with me
all these years otherwise.

You remember that dig you had at me
about all those elections?

- Dad, look, I'm...
- It wasn't ten.

It was 12.

The Returning Officer used to say

if I was a horse, they would
have shot me after the sixth.

But do you know what?

I have friends and comrades
living all over this city.

And do you know what else?

In every election I increased my vote.

Victory doesn't always look
the way other people imagine it.

Right.

Couple of apologies are in order.

- Brian, do you wanna start?
- Who...

I'm only messing you.

Dave?

I hold my hand up.

I've taken me eye off the ball,
but there's no time to argue.

It's time to focus.

We got a gig to organise.

- A gig?
- A Good Vibrations gig.

- A fundraiser?
- Yeah, a fundraiser.

No harm to you, Terri,
but unless you're charging

a hundred quid a head,

I don't think a night at the Harp's
gonna save you.

Who said anything about the Harp?

At The Pound, then.

Ooh, the Students' Union.

Try Ulster Hall.

Why not?

Well, because the Ulster Hall
holds 2,000 people.

I know how many people it holds.
I've been in it often enough.

Okay, we'll call in favours.

We'll get Siouxsie back to headline.

Oh, fuck it, er, we'll call The Clash,
Stiff Little Fingers...

Fucking show bands.
We don't need them.

It's a Good Vibrations gig.
It's gonna be Good Vibrations bands.

Terri, we're talking 2,000 people.
Be realistic.

What?

Like you were realistic when you
brought us round this place?

How many posters do
you think you'll need?

We're fucking back!

Northern Ireland, for reasons
best known to itself,

is the last great stronghold
of the punk world.

The Ulster Hall bill tonight represents
the largest-ever gathering here

of homebred punk and
New Wave bands on one stage.

Where the fuck is everyone?

It'll be all right. They'll come.

You know we've
hardly sold a ticket?

- It's John fucking Peel.
- Always nice to get the full name.

I can't believe you're here.

You gave me the best two minutes
and 28 seconds of my life.

How could I not come?

I'm just glad I got here in one piece.

- Rough journey?
- Oh, no, the flight was fine.

I mean getting through the
doors of this place.

You mean you haven't had a look
out the front?

Can you not just throw
the doors open?

I'd be within my rights
to shut them altogether.

Half of them are full drunk

and the other half are trying
to run in without paying.

Terri!

Hey, he's on the guest list.

Come on, move your arse!

What about my mates?

Hurry up, hurry up.

- It's too many.
- Ah, don't worry, it'll be fine.

Jesus Christ.

Rudi! Rudi! Rudi!

You're a good audience.

People always say
Belfast is the best audience.

And now here's your best band.

The Outcasts.

- Cool, Terri, great night.
- All right, Terri? Thanks, mate.

Isn't it incredible?

It's fucking unbelievable.

- Best night ever.
- Terri, we've made a loss.

We have packed out
the Ulster Hall

and we've somehow
made a fucking loss.

Your man at the front says

you had the longest guest list
in the Hall's entire history.

Longer than all the other
guest lists put together,

and all of it, apparently,
carried in your head.

Terri.

The whole point of tonight
was to raise money for your shop.

No, Dave.

No, it wasn't,
not the whole point.

Money couldn't buy
what we've just done.

You and your guest lists.

I'm sorry.

Sure, it's only bricks.

Terri! Terri! Terri!

You're wanted.

But you still owe me 40 quid.

I've made some bad
decisions in my life.

I haven't been on the
winning side very often.

But there were no winning
sides back then. So...

Like my dad said, the trick was
to get yourself on the right side.

The side of the angels.

Hey, Terri is our leader.
Terri is our...

No leaders.
No godfathers.

Thank you for coming.

When I look out at youse
all gathered here,

it confirms something
I've always felt.

When it comes to punk,

New York has the haircuts,

London has the trousers,

but Belfast has the reason!

Good Vibrations isn't a record shop.

It's not a label.

It's a way of life!

We're gonna do an old
Sonny Bono number...

because we fucking can.