Original subtitles

♪ When I was small I used to dance ♪

♪ In my mother's bedroom ♪

♪ Then I grew up and did it again ♪

♪ And basically I'm still doing the same show ♪

♪ I did in my mother's bedroom ♪

♪ And I'll do it till the bitter end ♪

♪ 'Cause it's my Tracey Ullman's Show ♪

♪ Tracey Ullman's Show, let's do the show, let's go ♪

♪ Tracey Ullman's Show ♪

♪ Tracey Ullman, Tracey Ullman ♪

♪ Tracey, Tracey, Tracey, Tracey ♪

♪ Tracey Ullman's Show ♪

Let's go.

Presenter: Have you recently been outed as a sex pest?

Would you like to pretend your disgusting behavior

is the result of an illness,

rather than you just being a total shit?

Then why not check into the Some Sort of Therapy Centre?

The Some Sort of Therapy Centre is Europe's leading facility

for everyone from shamed Hollywood producers

to shamed Hollywood actor/producers.

Our team of presumably therapists

is here to help you tell the world,

"It's OK. I'm dealing with this myself.

No need for the police."

It's the perfect place to relax, unwind,

and avoid facing the consequences of your actions.

Our range of treatments includes

counseling, or something like that,

meditation, probably,

and generally keeping a low profile

till the heat's off.

But don't take my word for it.

Here's just one of our self-satisfied customers.

Before I came here,

everyone was calling me a sex criminal,

which seemed wrong to me somehow.

But the Some Sort of Therapy Centre

made me realize that I'm actually a sex addict,

which means I bear no responsibility

for all the horrible things I've done.

So come to the Some Sort of Therapy Centre

and take the first step to a new you--

who's exactly the same as the old you,

but hopefully not facing prison.

( birds chirping )

Hey, kids. Turn that frown upside-down.

Your daddy'll be home any minute now.

♪ Who's the leader of the gang that's made for you and me? ♪

♪ R-U-P-E-R-T ♪

♪ M-O-U-S-E ♪

( laughing ) Yay! It's Rupert Mouse!

- Yay. - Yay.

Just back from Disney HQ, kids.

It's like a home from home. They got a Goofy there, too.

- ( laughs ) - Rupert: And a Dopey.

( laughs )

Not forgetting a Beauty.

Does that make you the Beast?

Only in the bedroom.

( both laughing )

Mmm.

So, how was your meeting with the Mouse?

Well, turns out it's not an actual mouse.

Just some guys in suits,

but I reckon we can do business.

- Please don't sell Fox to them. - Yeah, it's not fair!

I could sell it to SpongeBob Squarepants if I wanted to...

if I could only get hold of his people.

We're Murdochs! We don't sell, we buy!

Not anymore. You've gotta face facts.

Compared to the likes of Google,

Fox is a Mickey Mouse operation.

So now it is gonna be a Mickey Mouse operation!

Besides, it was Jerry's idea.

- Both: What? - Jerry: Well, kids,

Disney is our retirement plan.

And what better place to live happily ever after

than Disneyland?

Ride after ride, up and down,

screaming your heart out...

and then we'll do the rollercoasters.

- Ha! - Please, Dad, don't do it!

You kids are gonna have to learn

to stand on your own two feet.

Your step-mother's right.

When I started out, all I owned was one lousy newspaper,

and I built an empire out of hard work

and being a bastard.

So I'm doing you a favor, kids.

When I check out, just leaving you this.

One lousy newspaper company?

No, just this actual newspaper.

Just give me one more chance.

What do you say, Pinocchio?

Shall we give the most shit

of the two useless shits

another chance?

Yes, Jiminy! That's a great idea!

Woooop!

- ( laughs ) - Oh, Rupert!

You're almost as talented an actor as I am!

- Hard luck, bro. - He said you were a useless shit too!

He said you were the most shit!

- Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! - Boys!

Stop fighting.

I'll get you both a job at Disney.

- Seriously? - Really?

Yeah, Disneyland Paris.

They could use a couple of Dumbos.

Right, you. Let's get you upstairs.

I've got a use for a pair of Minnie Mouse ears

that Walt would not approve of.

- Hello, are you black? - Poor?

- From the north? - Or preferably all three?

Then we at the Oxbridge Admissions Committee

want to hear from you.

For centuries, Oxford and Cambridge Universities

have educated only the richest, whitest,

most already educated students.

But we don't want to do that anymore.

Well, we do want to, but apparently, it looks bad.

So if you think Eaton is a character from "Hollyoaks"...

Or "nanny" is a type of crystal meth...

Then pick up an application form

from your local branch of Lidl.

What is Lidl?

And remember,

you don't have to get five A stars at A level

to get into Oxbridge.

For example,

this helpfully ethnic young lady got in

with just three A's and a Nobel Peace Prize.

So if you're a normie, apply today.

And why not tell all your friends to apply as well?

Steady on. I mean, we only need one or two.

The Paradise Papers have revealed

that about £10 million of the Queen's own money

was invested in an offshore tax haven.

What are you doing, Mum?

Surely it's all your own money.

Her Majesty's Revenue and Customs.

You're only hurting yourself.

( German accent ) I'm using Bookshelf Beige on your cheeks,

mein Chancellorette-- it goes with your eyes.

( German accent ) Remind me again who this meeting is with today.

I quite forgot.

Use the other one. It's got Alpine Bells on.

All right, I know it is Emmanuel Macron,

but it is not as if I have been counting the days and minutten.

I know what you're like when you're around him.

Don't be taken in by his saucy Gallic charm.

Oh, Birgit, I know the difference between realpolitik

and what a lady leader thinks about in the bath.

Don't worry, I will be zwei hundred percent professional.

- Emmanuel. - ( French accent )Angela.

- May I? - Ja.

Hmm.

Please.

Are you wearing Bookshelf Beige?

Oh, you noticed! ( giggles )

Ahem!

Now, on the agenda,

we must talk about the Brexit fallout.

Let's start with finance.

We want London City jobs to move to Paris.

Ahh. Paris!

Oooh.

Then you should have them, naturally--

- Ahem! - What?

Moving on to the British tech sector--

We want those jobs in Germany.

Naturellement, but if someone were to say

that France could have those tech jobs,

then that person would be the most generous...

as well as the most... attractive leader...

the world has known.

You know what? Hmm!

I think that is good, ja... ( giggles )

ja, that France should have the tech...

- the flourishing tech-- - Mein Chancellorette.

I need you for a moment.

I'm busy.

There is a sudden crisis in the bratwurst industry.

What?

There is a problem with track three

on the new Kraftwerk album.

Ohh.

Your lipstick is smudged.

Ooh! Ohh. ( muttering )

Oh! How could you let that happen?

There is no smudge.

But you are letting Macron run in the circles around you.

No, I am just throwing him some trinkets,

then I will start the demands.

Hard demands.

You are the sexbomb, not him.

You have the power.

You are right.

Ohh, what was I thinking?

You must think me a fool.

I am not taken in by your manly wiling.

Now, we want 70% of the bank jobs,

and we want 80% of the tech jobs.

- So, it's to be like this. - Yes.

I thought we had something special.

Nein.

How could I think that I could best you?

Your intellect is matched only by your sensuality.

I will reflect on how foolish I have been

to underestimate such an exceptional woman

as I walk the grounds of this conference center alone tonight...

naked from the waist up...

oiled, beads of perspiration

dripping from every part of my torso.

Ooh...

Ohh.

You can have the jobs.

OK. We are done. Back to Paris.

Oh, scheisse.

( Russian accent ) Hello from Moscow,

where it is a scorching 14 degrees.

On behalf of our glorious leader Vladimir Putin,

we welcome all fans to Russia World Cup

which we won in fair and not fixy fixy vote.

Russia invite all fans to our open and loving country.

But there are few small things to remember.

First, don't be a gay.

There are no gay people in Russia.

Whole country 100% certified hetero!

But if you are gay, and want gay beaten out of you,

that is service we offer.

Next, please respect our cultural norms

and don't be not white.

If you're not white,

of course, you're welcome in our country,

but please hide whole time in hotel under bed.

Trust me, it's for best.

Finally, for any England fan who is white and not gay,

enjoy tournament free from discrimination--

we treat you just like everyone else.

Thank you for attention,

and we look forward very much to see you at next World Cup

in country even more welcoming to everyone--

Qatar.

Mark Rylance.

Oh, no, no, no, please, please,

don't notice me, I'm just a man,

I'm nothing special.

Mark, it's me, Dame Judi.

Oh, my word!

What an honor! Oh, I admire your work so much.

The wonderful stories you tell!

No time for that. I'm here because you, like me,

have become something of a national treasure.

Oh, no. No, no, no, no.

Don't be afraid. It offers opportunities.

Come with me.

- You see that bus shelter? - Oh, yes.

I want you to throw this trainer on top of it.

Why?

Just do it.

And, action!

Excuse me, sir. Did you just throw a shoe on--

It's you, isn't it?

You starred in "Dunkirk."

The brave soldiers and the fishermen were the real stars.

It's you.

I love that film.

You couldn't have thrown a shoe, right?

You're a national treasure.

Wh-What's this feeling?

It's the thrill of getting away with it.

And now that you're a national treasure,

you can get away with anything.

Oh... ( laughs )

Yes.

( cackling )

Oh, Dame Judi,

what a gift.

Why share it with me?

Well, I'm not getting any younger.

Time to pass on the baton.

It would have been Bradley Wiggins.

- Anyway... - I thank you for this wonderful gift.

All right, dear, we're not at the BAFTAs now.

And if you ever need more tutelage,

you know where to find me.

Oh, stolen my handbag. Come back!

Sam Mendes gave me that bag!

Oh, sod it!

( laughing )

I'm Mark Rylance,

and I'm king of the world!

Oh, my goodness. What have I done?

Every day, millions of men around the world

are enjoying things full of men.

But we can make it stop.

This is an appeal on behalf of Feminists Who Ruin Things Men Used to Like.

Your donations to FWRTMUTL

have already funded "Ocean's Eight,"

a summer blockbuster that ruins the franchise

by stuffing it full of women.

Your previous help made possible

a female Dr. Who

and a "Ghostbusters" remake totally riddled with wombs.

We've done so much already,

but there are still many things out there that men love

that women have yet to ruin.

We need your help to push our "vagenda."

Just £10 a month could buy us

a female James Bond.

£15 could give the world

a female England football manager.

And £20 could help our important research

into creating a viable female Ross Kemp.

So please give what you can, because with your help,

women can ruin everything for men...

except them getting paid more.

That's proven impossible.

Giddyup, filly!

Over the fence. Bump!

Over, luv-guv! Aah!

And if you make it over the bank,

you're gonna win the New Codham! Whoo!

- ( phone ringing ) - Camilla here.

Hello, sexy bum.

No, not home for bally ages.

Now that Philip's retired and Kate's knocked up again,

I seem to be taking up all the slack.

I know, not an hour goes by

when I'm not opening a tiny pair of velvet curtains

or shaking hands with a snotty toddler.

Look, I must go.

I've got to canter to the chemist's

for mops and pops.

( tires screech )

Hello, right.

My father-in-law is always forgetting to take his pills.

I need one of those little boxes

marked with the days of the week.

- Yes, of course. - And I've arranged

a 21-gun salute to remind him when it's time.

- ( phone rings ) - Oh.

Hello? Yeah.

No, you've already had your banquet.

Don't you remember? Twelve courses.

Yes, I'll be back soon.

No, I won't forget your Sudoku.

Sudoku.

Sudoku!

Keeps his brain active, you know?

Now, what else do I need?

Oh, yes, the mother-in-law keeps losing her crown.

Hmm. Sometimes she says, "Where have I put my crown?"

and I say, "It's on your head."

And other times she'll leave it somewhere bonkers,

like the fridge

or Canada.

So have you got one of those strings

so she can keep it round her neck?

Yes, they come in red or blue.

Have you got anything more crown-jewely or precious-gemmy than that?

I'm afraid not.

She should retire too,

but she won't hear of it.

She's showing her age.

She wanders into a part the Commonwealth

and says, "What did I come here for?"

- Do they live with you? - Oh, God, no.

They live in one of those places

where you just pull a cord and someone comes to help.

- A care home? - A palace.

Right, must dash.

I'm taking them to a daycare center

where they can meet other elderly monarchs.

- ( phone rings ) - Oh! Good God.

No peace for the wicked, it's the mother-in-law now.

Hello?

Have you looked on your head?

On your head.

On. Your. Head!

Announcer: Coming soon to BBC One.

If you're sick of football,

here's another documentary series

where a random celebrity

goes round looking at stuff

that hasn't already been looked at

by some other random celebrity.

I'm Julie Walters,

and over the next six weeks I'm going to be traveling

the length and breadth of the country

to discover Britain's Favourite Fatberg.

Basildon must be really proud of this fatberg, Terry.

I thought the Aberdeen fatberg was special.

This one is a cracker!

What a terrific fatberg.

- What's it made of? - Baby wipes, mainly,

and oil from takeaways.

And what is that I can smell?

That would be shit.

Right.

Court of Appeal in session,

this is Case #314,

TFL and the Mayor of London versus Uber, Incorporated.

This is further to the earlier ruling

terminating Uber's license to operate in London.

Ms. Parker, I believe you are representing Uber.

- That's correct, my Lord. - Very good.

Would you like to present your first witness?

Yes, my Lord.

My first witness is...

Hassan, in a silver Prius,

who'll be here in four minutes.

Oh, no. Seven minutes.

Oh. Eight.

No, he's given up.

It will be now be Alexi in a black Mégane

in three minutes.

Uh, no, he's gone to surge pricing.

It's not worth it. Cancel. Cancel.

Locating. Locating...

- Ms. Parker-- - Ramone in a Ford Galaxy,

one minute away, my Lord.

He's at the end of the road.

He's--

What are you doing?

He's spinning. Why area you spinning?

( sighs ) He's gone.

The case rests, my Lord.

Well, can we hear from the mayor?

On his way, my Lord,

but he's in a black cab and it won't go south of the river.

Any joy with Ramone?

Now more on the images of a bullying incident in Leicester.

This mobile phone footage appears to show

a group of young people victimizing an elderly man.

I'm joined now by Chief Inspector Wendy McKai.

- It's a tough watch, isn't it? - Absolutely.

I mean, this footage is nothing short of appalling.

You have to wonder at the mentality of these people.

If you're going to film an abusive incident,

why on earth would you do it in portrait mode?

Yeah, because TV is broadcast in landscape format,

and if you film something in portrait,

it takes up, what, a third of the screen?

Which means that we have to then

put the blurry stuff either side.

You know that, I know that,

the vast majority of decent people know that.

But unfortunately, there are some people

who are just profoundly ignorant of the correct aspect ratio.

Is there anything that can be done about this disturbing trend?

The temptation is to write these people off,

but I really believe that with the right sort of support,

they can quite literally... turn their lives around.

Thank you, Chief Inspector.

Oh, um, and the actual incident itself?

Oh, right, yeah. Dreadful.

But then the whole world's gone to shit, hasn't it?

So, anyway, thank you for agreeing to meet me, Mr. Rees-Mogg.

Oh, you're entirely welcome.

I represent a patriotic pressure group

based in the Cayman Islands.

How interesting.

I find it so useful

to engage with ordinary members of the public.

Common hedge fund manager in the street.

Let me tell you then that my vision for Brexit

is to create a Britain that is truly self-reliant.

- Nanny? - Sorry, Mr. Rees-Mogg.

I was just polishing the headlights on the Daimler.

Free from the tyranny of Brussels,

we will finally have the opportunity

to do things for ourselves.

Mmm.

And do you trust

our current prime minister to deliver?

Oh, I have a great deal of respect for Mrs. May.

What you talkin' about? You can't stand her!

"About as much use as a Latin dictionary in a state school,"

is what you always say.

The PM and I have our differences,

but we are both sensible, grown-up politicians.

Broccoli. Yuck!

Gotta have your greens, Mr. Rees-Mogg.

Do the noise.

Zhooo, chugga, chugga, chugga, chugga, chugga!

Oh.

Have you thought about running for leadership?

Oh! The idea is utterly fanciful.

It's not something I've considered for a single moment.

You little fibber!

You never talk about anything else!

- But Nanny... - You had all those business cards made up.

"Jacob Rees-Mogg, Prime Minister."

Nanny, please.

He's always wanted to be prime minister has Mr. Rees-Mogg.

When he was 13, he made me dress his Action Man up as Harold MacMillan.

Nanny, really!

Will you cease these interjections?!

I can manage perfectly well without your interfer--

Oh! Uh, I, uh,

uh, uh, oh, erp, oh...

( burps )

Ah.

Thank you, Nanny.

It was making me rather irritable.

You're just overtired. It's very near nap time.

Quite right. Will you excuse me?

Oh! How intensely embarrassing!

Nanny, you've forgotten to put any trousers on me.

You must be mortified.

Don't worry, I always carry a spare pair.

Now let's pop to the loo. Let's hope they've got a changing mat.

( laughing )

I just thought I could smell something,

so I thought it was best to just call the council.

Yeah. No, you were right to call.

It's definitely an infestation.

Oh, no! What is it? Rats? Termites?

Worse. Hipsters.

Looks like they've found their way into next door.

Is that what I could smell?

Yeah, beard oil.

I'm surprised you didn't hear them,

sanding the floorboards

and discussing Wes Anderson films.

See, I thought I heard something,

but I didn't see anything.

No, well, you wouldn't.

They're mostly out during the day,

hanging around coffee shops that used to be ironmongers

or playing ping-pong ironically.

How do they get in?

They just follow the cycle routes

until they hit somewhere unfashionable.

- Can you get rid of 'em? - Well, it's tricky.

We used to smoke 'em out,

but now they think we're vaping

and you just attract more of them.

Can't you put some poison down or something?

Not strictly legal, sadly.

What we can do is put a bit of bait down,

some old vinyl or an artisan Scotch egg.

That draws 'em out, and then we trap 'em

and release them in Shoreditch or somewhere.

'Cause if you leave 'em, they'll just start breeding,

and then house prices are affected.

Will the value go down?

No, up, weirdly.

No one knows why, 'cause hipsters are bloody awful.

But mark my words, left unchecked

they'll price you out of this place in no time.

They won't be interested in this old house.

It's got the original fireplace,

all the flocked wallpaper,

and the bathrooms from the 1930s.

Oh, God, you're gonna be overrun.

- Mabel, darling, can I ask you something? - Sure.

Do you think I could be that North Korean newsreader on the show?

- Why can't I do that? - For one thing,

you'd get absolutely slaughtered on Twitter.

I don't care what they say on Twitter.

I've been in this business long enough

to not care about what they're saying about me online.

What are they saying about me online?

Don't know, let's look. Uh, @boozysusan says,

"Just watched Tracey Ullman's Angela Merkel impression

and I think I've wet myself."

Wow. Is that good?

Yeah, that's good.

@ianfromcarshalton says,

"That new Tracey Ullman show is worse than--"

Oh. Let's forget that one.

- Worse than what? - It doesn't matter.

Let me have a look then.

"That new Tracey Ullman show is worse than AIDS."

Oh! Why would he say something like that?

It's just how people are on social media.

I mean, a couple of sketches I wasn't completely happy with,

- but I still like to think they're better than AIDS. - Obviously they are.

"I wouldn't let Tracey Ullman give me a blowjob

if you paid me."

Who'd pay him to do that?

This guy absolutely hates me!

- What have I done?! - He's a troll, OK?

There's only one sensible way to deal with people like that.

Of course. Yeah.

No, you're absolutely right.

Hi! Are you @ianfromcarshalton?

Yeah. Bloody hell.

What are you doin' here?

I want to talk to you about your tweets.

How'd you find me?

Just drove to Carshalton, asked around at a few pubs.

See, son? Your old man's famous.

You've got 58 followers. You're hardly Justin Bieber.

Does he know what you say about me?

"I can't decide what I hate most about Tracey Ullman,

the fact she's an unfunny bitch,

or the fact she's an ugly bitch."

Why would you want to tell Mum that?

I didn't tell her. I just posted it.

You included her Twitter handle in the message.

And what is it about me and AIDS?

'Cause I'm looking through your other tweets,

and not only do you think my show is worse than AIDS,

you also hope I get AIDS.

Why is that, exactly?

- You annoy me. - Some people annoy me,

but I wouldn't wish AIDS upon them!

Yeah, it's a massive overreaction.

Leave me alone, will ya? I'm entitled to my opinion.

I don't like your show, OK? And I don't like you.

But you'd have shagged her in the '80s.

- What? - That what you tweeted last year.

"I'd have shagged Tracey Ullman in the '80s."

Oh, that's lovely, isn't it?

- "But not now." - Wow, you're a real Prince Charming,

aren't you, Ian?

Don't think about my feelings.

What gives the right to say all these vicious and cruel things about--

- That's enough. - What?

- We're not getting anywhere. - I know.

- Let's go. - OK, Ian.

You can say whatever you want,

because you're not gonna get a reaction out of me.

- OK? No. - Come on. Come on.

( laughing )

( music playing )

Honey, do you need one of my special massages?

That gets you big two thumbs up.

Oh yeah, we could try that as well.

Make your way to the front and ask to see Private Parts.

I want to see Private Parts. Right. Got it.

-I will definitely catch you. -(THUMP)

Are you out of your mind?!

Whoo!

♪ (CLASSICAL MUSIC CONCLUDES) ♪

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