Original subtitles

It was election time in Ireland and a charismatic young senator

was running for President.

Vote Mary!

Bright, passionate, articulate, and most amazingly of all, a lady.

Not an iron lady, a human, woman lady.

Vote Mary for President.

No, that's not her, you fool!

That's her opponent, Brian Lenihan.

-Vote Mary. Vote Mary. - There she is! There's Mary Robinson!

Not a tart with a heart but a heart who makes tarts!

Vote Mary.

The Mary Robinson campaign had such low hopes of victory

in the Lenihan stronghold of Boyle

that they put very little funding into the region.

But call it feminism, call it nationalism, call it boredom...

I'm really cold, mum.

...but Debra and the girls decided to take up the cause.

A woman for President, is it?

Yeah.

This would be a lot for her to take on.

All that stress.

I wouldn't like to do that to her.

She does want to be the President.

Does she, though?

I mean, I'm signing up for stuff all the time without thinking it through.

Maybe I could vote for her to be the President's wife.

- Oh, for... - That's grand.

You just put a big "X" beside Mary's name and then she'll be the President's wife.

- All right? - All right.

Unless there's any strong male candidates, of course.

* Dancing at the disco, bumper to bumper

* Wait a minute, where's me jumper?

* Where's me jumper, where's me jumper?

* Where's me jumper, where's me jumper Oh, no *

In a bitter-sweet business coup,

Liam Moone had won the Lenihan poster contract for the whole county.

Which really amused Debra Moone... - Hi, Mum.

As she headed off to her Mary Robinson campaign meeting.

You're sure you don't need a hand?

I'm okay, actually, pal.

What's she doing here?

De-clawing swans. What does it look like I'm doing, dumbnut?

But what about Butch and Sundance?

It's been ages since we last did a job together.

Martin, I thought you said you were gonna fill the spray gun up for me?

Oh, balls.

I'm from Sweden!

Yeah.

I suppose it has.

Where's Mum?

- Campaign meeting. - Again?

Trish, you're not cooking dinner tonight, are you?

If you want to do the cooking, that's fine with me.

Okay! Let's not go crazy here. Everyone just calm down.

What delights have we got in store?

Just some rice and veg and potatoes

and sausages.

All in the same pot?

It saves on washing up.

Oh, that's a shame, Trish. You know I can't eat cauliflower.

That's broccoli.

Okey-doke. I think I'm going to go and have a little cry.

Cool, I'll give you a shout when it's ready.

Just waiting for the plastic to dissolve.

Every day, there is more enthusiasm.

People have thought about the presidency,

they want something different, they want change...

Look at her there, with her strong hands and her bouncy hair.

She's like the Joan of Arc of Connaught.

Sorry, where were we?

- Strategy meeting. - Right. Thank you, Debra.

Now, I was thinking,

if it wasn't too much trouble,

doorstep canvassing.

- How do we feel about that? - I'd welcome the opportunity.

Oh, not right now, Gwen.

Yeah, you know, it's all very well, the door-to-doors,

but we really need to get more Mary posters up.

The one we have is great, but it's just not enough.

There's only one Mary poster?

It seems like more.

That's 'cause I keep moving it around every night.

And I needn't tell you ladies

how quickly Velcro loses its velcrosity after a shower.

- Don't talk to me... - Jesus.

Still, we have our mobile campaign unit.

It's just not very presidential, though, is it?

No, it's not, it's not.

Is there no chance Liam will give us a few freebies?

We can't expect charity, ladies. We simply have to raise some funds.

What a lovely man Liam is.

- Oh, he is. He's a lovely man. - Aye, he's gas.

Yeah. Yeah, but as I was saying about the funding...

- Let's not have an argument. - What? Who's arguing?

Sorry, but it felt like an argument there for a second.

No, no one's arguing.

- I think you're arguing, Debra. - She is, yeah. Yeah.

It was a bit snidy.

No, I am just suggesting that we approach

the more affluent citizens of Boyle and ask for political donations.

- Excellent. - After the meeting, Gwen.

You're such a clever person. We should do that.

War averted.

Does anyone in Boyle have money?

- There's Pat Burke. - No, he's dead, sure.

Oh, that's right.

- James Brogan? - Dead.

The other one.

Oh, yeah, from Bridge Street. I thought you meant...

The butcher? No, he's long gone.

Yeah, the big C got him.

- Hit by a car. - The younger one.

Yeah, he's dead, too.

Francie Feeley has money.

Touchy Feeley.

He's such a letch.

Yeah, my Roger wouldn't like me going near Touchy Feeley's house.

Right, we're in agreement so to forget that idea.

Francie "Touchy" Feeley owned the local fish factory.

He was a rich, uncomplicated tool,

whose nickname was earned due to his overexuberant affection.

Smack your arse there.

Touchy's physical bonhomie may have been welcomed

had he not always borne the fresh scent of gutted mackerel.

There's more than one way to skin a cat.

You don't want to be the cat. All right. Bye-bye, now, Father.

Presidential election news now. In Feeder Falls,

candidate Brian Lenihan was seen surging ahead today in the opinion polls,

while Labour's Mary Robinson insists she is still in the race.

They say quite openly, "This time I'm voting

"for the best person to be President and I'm going to vote for you."

I'll mop the floor with you, Robinson.

This is quite progressive of you, Brian.

When you lose the election, you'll make a good house-husband.

The origins of the Workers' Party

can be found in the early 1960s, with the more modern...

We are not eating that shit.

Oh, great! I'm on time. I thought you'd have finished eating.

I have.

Did you get a haircut?

Just a trim. What do you think?

- Oh, my God, you got the Mary! - I did.

What is it? Is it a person?

I love it, Mum. The Mary is so in at the moment.

- Stop it. - It's modern and sophisticated...

- Go on. - And articulate.

An articulate haircut?

You wouldn't understand. It's about feminism.

So, is it shorter than it was?

Lord.

Sorry, wrong house.

Great.

Yeah, I think I'll try another house, too.

This election is more important for them as women

than any membership of any political party.

I was thinking, to help ease your conscience,

maybe I'll let you do a few Mary posters for free.

Just so you can sleep better at night.

That's your fake snore.

Your real snore is far more unpleasant.

I said I'd give you a discount. Now, push over.

Oh, I suppose there's just no room for a modern woman these days.

All right, Joni Mitchell, park your horse.

I like Mary, I do. I have to get paid, though.

How do you feel about half-price?

Well, not great.

But half of nothing is nothing.

So sure, half-price it is. Now, shift over.

Do we have the clappy light thing?

The bulb's loose.

- Want some? - Nah.

I'm going to show off my new look. I'm going to go for another strut.

Back the truck up.

That's no rice sandwich.

Is that... No.

Oh, sweet mercy, that's gravy.

Oh, it smells like angels.

Is that jasmine? Is that what that is?

It's jasmine. It's jasmine gravy.

Delicious Baby J, did you see that?

You know what that is, don't you?

Do it. Follow your gut, Martin.

Martin! That child is eating a homemade Wagon Wheel!

I don't believe we've met.

- Look at this place. - He calls it the Pollack Palace.

Although the guards call it Elm Street.

'Cause so many women come running out screaming.

We have to do it.

For Mary.

So, your mam's an actual chef?

Well, kind of.

She's a pastry chef.

A pastry chef!

Well, she doesn't do it full-time any more,

so now she just bakes for us at home.

Just bakes for you at home!

Yeah, it's so boring.

All she talks about is bloody delicious food.

If I eat one more eclair this week,

I think I might scream.

Mmm...

Cream.

- Are you, okay? - Yeah.

Never been butter.

- Want to come in and play? - Oh, yes, I'm starving.

Our granddaughters will thank us.

I had a hysterectomy in 1984.

You're talking gobbledegook!

It's not my fault you didn't read the ad properly!

Hello, you must be suffragettes.

Uh, skedaddle up there, but pop your shoes off first,

and your socks.

Well, Barbara, that was delicious.

Duck l'orange? Birds and fruit?

Who knew? I'm going to go home and stick a banana in a pigeon.

Yeah, or a pineapple in a pheasant.

Yeah, I don't think that would work, Mike.

We're just so glad that Trevor's made a friend.

A best friend.

Is that Pavlova?

It's Pavlova Tuesday.

- Want some jus? - You bet I feckin' jus!

Thanks, Eclair.

As Martin filled his neglected belly,

the Robinson crusaders tried to fill their campaign chests.

And we think she'd be great for women's rights

and, er, breaking down boundaries.

There's nothing I like more than breaking down women's boundaries.

For too long, women have had their hands tied,

struggling to breathe beneath mirrored ceilings.

Um, glass ceilings?

Indeed. It's like Mary said, you know,

"If the rights of women are constrained, no man can be truly free.

"He may have the power, but he'll not have the freedom."

Wow, you're actually quoting her.

You seem surprised.

Did I not tell you I was a big Mary man?

You do seem like a big Mary man, all right.

That I am.

I'm huge.

Do you not have one of those full-size Mary posters?

You know, with the legs and everything?

No. No, I'm afraid we don't.

Why not? If I had a body like hers, I'd be displaying it everywhere.

The thing is, we're actually kind of having some funding issues.

Not any more, you're not.

What do you mean?

Well, I'll give you the money.

Was that not obvious? That's...

'Cause I was pointing at meself with me thumb.

Oh, right. Yeah, of course.

Sorry.

Well, anything that you can do to help the cause...

- A thousand pounds. - Wow!

That would be amazing.

That's no problem. You know, it's like the old saying,

"You scratch my back," et cetera.

Great!

Sorry, When you say "scratch"...

"Nobody puts Mary in the corner."

Dirty Dancing. Brilliant. Will you watch a film?

Um...

No, I think we'd better go.

I think you better.

I think you better.

Yeah, we'd better go.

Now, would they be pop socks or a full tight?

Uh, full tight.

Can't tell.

Au revoir, mes... Mes petites revolutionnaires.

- Oh, he speaks French. - Whoo!

Well, they have the best maids.

You all right there?

Oh! Give us a kiss.

Hey, come here! You don't get away so easy.

Bye.

She nearly slipped through me net. - DEBRA: I did.

Thank you again, Mr Feeley, that was...

- It's very refreshing. - All right, I'll be in touch.

Oh, that was delicious.

Barbara truly does have wands for hands.

Yeah.

I think I was too chatty, though.

What?

Nope, you were charming, is what you were, sir.

- Really? - Yeah, really.

Your missing pencil case anecdote. It killed me, as always.

- Well, that is a great story. - Yeah.

I can't wait to go back tomorrow night.

Oh, do you really think I should go back so soon?

Of course you should! Oh...

Martin, they'd be so disappointed if you weren't here tomorrow night.

They wouldn't even eat!

You are so right.

- I'm too hard on myself. - I'm always saying it.

But would Martin's best friend be so welcoming of his new pastry pal?

You're a riot.

I didn't say anything.

Well, this is a bit sudden.

You're all over that new kid like a tramp on chips.

Chips? Are people still eating chips?

Here, try this.

That is a chocolate mouse, injected with homemade creme egg.

His mam makes them, P!

With her wand hands!

Oh! I get it.

So you're just using him.

Ah, that's grand, then.

62247.

It's 62248 I'm looking for.

No problem, bye-bye.

Wait, wait, I'm joking with you.

It's me.

Oh, hi, Mr Feeley.

I was yanking your old chain there.

- Good one. - Right-o. Well,

I've a cheque that I've written here for you.

That's great. Thanks again.

I've been thinking about what I'd like you to do to return the favour.

Oh!

Right!

I'd like you to come over and do a spot of cleaning for me.

Excuse me?

Remember, we were talking about scratching each other,

and, uh, you know, when I said I'd give you the thousand pounds.

Well, I'm sure we can get someone to go over and do that.

No, no, no. It has to be yourself and Linda.

These foreign cleaners are dropping like flies.

I need strong Irish backs for the things I need doing.

Well, I'll have to talk to Linda, of course...

Brilliant! I'll see you later on.

And Debra? Um, wear something nice.

Oh, hi, Martin.

I wasn't sure what we were eating, so I just brought a bottle of both.

Cover all bases.

Erm... I'm going to open this one

and you might want to throw that in the fridge.

And there's no chance he just wants you to clean his house?

They call him "Touchy" Feeley, not "Keeps His Hands To Himself" Feeley.

Look, I'm happy to embarrass myself for the cause.

Sure, look it, if I have to parade around in whatever

and do a little polishing for the sake of feminism, then so be it.

It's all for the greater good.

Yeah, and I've got some stuff we can wear. What's your bra size?

No!

I'm... I'm not finished.

We're here to better our plight, not muddy it.

This is our time!

I've rented myself to enough bad men.

It's time to own myself.

Votes or no votes, if we succumb to this endless BS, we lose.

And I'm here to win.

For every Irish woman who's sick and tired

of the fish-stenched mouth of sexism.

And so our brave ladies of the night

planned a subliminal campaign for the ages.

No, they didn't have money for posters

and no, they couldn't be bothered going door-to-door.

So they did what women do. They used trickery to get what they wanted.

Hello. Is this the Shannonside FM request line?

Smokey Robinson there.

And now again, by popular request, here's Mary by The 4 of Us.

* Oh Mary

* Why don't you have some sense

* Please do something

Vote for Mary.

Amen.

- Vote for Mary. - What?

Vote for Mary.

* Why don't you have some sense

* Please do something

Nice.

* Oh Mary *

Meanwhile, with our latchkey kid...

Oh, hey, Babs. What's cookin'?

Oh. Is Trevor not joining us?

Martin, uh...

Tonight is just, uh... It's family night.

But it's Tuesday.

Pavlova Tuesday.

Tuesday is family night now.

Actually, every night is family night now.

But I brought my own jus.

Martin, will you please just let us be?

Well, girls, here's the poll. Moment of truth.

Oh, God.

60% for Brian, 10% for Mary.

30% for Mary as the President's wife.

No change, then.

So much for campaigning without posters.

Maybe we should just be happy with her as the President's wife.

- Yeah. - No!

Well, what else can we do?

Good question, Noreen. What else could you do?

With the electorate stuck in the past and Liam holding firm on half-price,

Debra was forced to turn to the fresh, fishy friend of feminism.

Hello, Francie, it's me.

I thought I told you to leave me alone, you...

No, no, no. Sorry, sorry. It's Debra Moone.

Well, Debra, it's about time.

You know, this back-scratching offer is about to expire.

So, we're still on for the thousand pounds, then?

So long as you're still on for getting down and dirty,

by which I mean doing the cleaning.

And remember, wear something nice.

Why do you even have these?

Don't ask any questions, Deb.

I just can't believe they still fit us.

Come in, girls! The water's warm!

I'm looking forward to this, girls.

I've been feeling awful filthy today.

Well, wouldn't you know it.

The suffragettes finally bottled it.

Women.

You know, I think you'll do just grand.

Slip your shoes off.

And your socks.

I feel so ashamed. Is this really necessary?

Deb! If we are going to demean ourselves for Mary,

then we're going to do it properly, the way she'd want it done.

Absolutely!

Exploitation for the nation.

What the...

Marys.

Non-velcro Marys.

Thanks to Liam and Mary men around the country,

the new presidential voice of Ireland would be a feminine one...

Citizens of Ireland...

Ish.

You have chosen me to represent you.

Scrub him good, Dad!

I can still smell fish.

May God direct me

so that my presidency is one of justice, peace and love.

Right in there!

May I have the fortune to preside over an Ireland

at a time of exciting transformation...

Now, come on, Liam, you know what to do. Just do it.

Get in there, Butch.

Right in all the nooks and crannies, where the fishy smell hides.

Where hope and history rhyme.

For I, the President, can sing to you

the joyous refrain...

Oh, for the love of God!

"I am of Ireland. Come dance with me in Ireland."

I feel like a Ghostbuster.

* Oh Mary

* Why don't you have some sense

* Please do something

* To restore my confidence

* Oh Mary

* Why don't you have some sense

* Please do something

* Oh Mary Why don't you have some sense *