All language subtitles for Moone.Boy.S03E06.Gershwins.Bucket.List.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DD.5.1.H.264-playWEB_track3_[eng]

They say family is a symphony

where each member plays
a different tune.

Why do I have to share a room
with this nob bucket?

But in the case of the Moones,
it was a symphony played

by a one-armed,
tone-deaf orchestra,

performing
an anthem so high-pitched

only dogs could hear it.

It's just not fair!

Life isn't fair, love.

Thank you. Listen to the man!

From this moment on,
we are at war!

When were we at peace?

What are they
fightin' about now?

I honestly can't remember.

I just use "life
isn't fair" as my position on everything now.

Martin used my
scrunchie as a catapult, and now it's too baggy.

Well,
you know I can't throw things

manually,
all your dead arms have

rendered my
shoulders too weak.

I'm gonna end you, ya flute.

But I've barely started!

Have you tried
playing peek-a-boo?

I've been
peek-a-boo-ing for an hour, Dessie.

Delma,
any chance you could change Rose's nappy today?

It's not her nappy,
she's teething.

Are you sure?
Cos the smell is disgusting.

Oh, no, definitely teething,
Mammy Moone,

believe me,
I've seen Delma's nipples.

Oh,
yes, I have,

they're a mess,
they are awful.

And so, to escape the primal

screams and
the duelling banjos...

Shut up, Martin.

I wasn't even speaking!

Trisha Moone had
sought the musical

sanctuary of her
Grandad's house

to study for her leaving cert.

Any danger of
a cup of tea today?

I brought you tea
five minutes ago.

Though she was
learning that age

had made his
rhythm a little rusty.

You forgot the sugar.

While you're up,
get me a fresh cup of tea, will ya?

And break out the bourbon,
will ya?

It's gotta be 5:00 somewhere,
right, Joe?

Yeah! And the bourbons, too!

Because growing
old is like jazz.

You're still making music,
but sometimes the melody slips a little.

There's your
flippin' bourbons.

Thanks, doll!
Here you go. Why don't you buy yourself something nice!

Like maybe a smile
or something! Haha!

# 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 #

Why do we even
have to learn history?

Sure it's all in
the flippin' past!

Exactly! If we have to learn
something, which I dispute,

we should be
learning the future.

Right!
Not doing stupid exams on the Irish Civil War.

Yeah. Just cos it took place
70 years ago this week

and changed
the course of our nation? Who cares?

Totally!
It's a sack of nonsense.

Fightin' over
some dorky Treaty

that stimulated a tug of war
between de Valera and Michael Collins

to become the "voice of
a New Ireland"? Bore off!

Wait, you've been studying!

What? No, I haven't.

We said we wouldn't study!
We said we'd fail together,

and then just blame
the whole flippin' system.

I wasn't studying!
I just have a photographic memory!

I just stared at the book
for ages and ages,

read it and re-read it
and then I somehow remembered it.

That's studying!
Ya big studier!

I'm not running away,
I'm escaping,

like de Valera
from Lincoln jail!

You don't think I should be
studying, too, do ya, Sean?

Oh, there's gotta
be another way...

We could burn down the school?

Ah,
some bloody swot would only rebuild it.

No,
what we need is a first-hand account of the Irish Civil War

to make our
mediocre answers pop.

Yeah! Were you alive then?

Keep thinkin', buddy.

Mam?

Well,
the math exam is gonna be a breeze!

Wait. Of course. I've got it!

That's my boy.

You mean your grandad, right?

That makes more sense.

Can I help with
any of that, love?

You want to help me study?

God, no,
it just felt right to ask.

How's it working
out studying over at Grandad's?

He's, um... He's...

- A pain in the arse?
- Such a pain in the arse.

Go easy on him, Dr.
Huxtable says

he's got early
signs of Alzheimer's.

His doctor is called Huxtable?

Well, no,
but he always wears flashy jumpers. Oh, and he's black.

To be fair,
Dad was a pain in the arse before he got sick.

Ah, Liam.

Hey,
I hate to see him like this, but when I was a teenager

and he realised
we had nothing in

common,
he told me I was adopted.

Were you?

He delivered me himself!

In the back of
that stupid car.

Speaking of which,
don't let him drive,

he drives like he
is out of his mind.

Which probably won't be helped
by the Alzheimer's.

Just keep the poor fella
stimulated and engaged.

And ignore the relentless,
hateful insults.

I'm sure he's
mellowed with age.

He told me last
night that I look

like a reject from
a vampire school.

Bingo.

Well, I do remember
bits and pieces from

the Civil War,
but I was only your age.

Oh, and my mind's
not what it was.

Tell me about it, I can't even
remember what I had for lunch today.

You haven't had
lunch yet today, buddy.

Thing is, I lost my
schoolbooks in a bet

so I'm kind of
runnin' low on options.

But at least now we
know that a donkey

can't outrun a train,
don't we?

God, that was a sad accident.

God, but you're thick.
So, um, what

sort of details
are you looking for?

Well,
what can you remember about the spring of 1922?

Well, the Anglo-Irish
Treaty was causing all kinds of chaos.

There was a smell
of fresh blood in the air.

- Deadly.
- Lovely stuff... Keep it coming.

Everyone on
the Sinn Fein side knew that Nixon was a loose cannon,

and of course
there were rumours that

de Valera had
just got the H-Bomb.

What?
That's a little surprising. Nixon I don't think was...

Michael Collins
led the fight anyway,

storming
the beaches of Normandy.

But what he
didn't know was that Napoleon and the Japs

were already dug in...

Oh, yeah,
the Japs were big in Ireland at the time.

So, let me get
this right, Grandad.

Prepare to die,
ya feckin' midget!

Get off my beach,
you lanky gombeen.

Ha, ha, ya langer

Merde!
Unleash ze secret weapon!

Wait. Are you saying Godzilla
was pro-Treaty?

Are you still
writing this down? Oh, come on, Martin.

Truth is, Martin, at that age,
all I really did was listen to music.

Do ya want me to
play the piano?

Wow, that's impressive.
How're you doing that?

Not a big music man,
to be honest, Grandad. As Churchill said,

"Music is just
a waste of a good walk."

Wasn't that golf?

Music is just
a waste of a good golf? That's it.

Lucky I've got you
to keep the facts straight, Grandad.

Hi, there. You're new.

Well, hot dog!
A fellow Imaginary! How do you like that?

I like it fine.

Hoo! You're a big fella.

Who crapped you out?
Like, a big stupid tree?

Yeah, I'm a bit like a tree.

Ya want a drink, sasquatch?
I'm buyin'!

Well,
I do always encourage Martin

to speak to strangers,
so why not.

So, you with
the grumpy vampire broad?

Eh, no.
The idiot boy talking to Grandad.

"Grandad"!
What a hoot. You know he was

"just Little Joe
last time I was around.

And now he's Wrinkly Old Joe.

But I ain't complainin',
Paddy,

it's good to be
back in the game!

Whoa,
you're Grandad's childhood imaginary friend?

Out of the flames
like a funky Phoenix.

Hey, let me ask you
a question, Paddy,

how'd the Big War turn out?

- We won.
- We did?

Probably.
You think you're back for good?

Why? What have you heard?

I've heard nothing.

Good. Let's keep it that way.

What?

I'm yankin' your chain,
ya big, dumb Mick.

Eh. Want me to butt ya?

Want me to what me?

A gasper. A snipe. A butt.
A cigarette, dumbo.

Nah, thanks, I'm good,
turns out they're bad for you.

Aw, they said
the same thing about opium, never did me no wrong.

You are a breath
of fresh air, sir.

You're not so bad yourself,
you stupid piece of shit.

You're so mean.

Hey, what'd you say
your name was again?

Sean. Murphy.

That's a stupid name!

Oh, you're serious.
Good for you.

Hey, I'm George.
George Gershwin.

Kind of nice to
meet you, George.

Thanks for your time, lads.
So I was

wonderin',
if any of you are a bit

confused about
this whole civil war

thing, maybe we
should all get together

and do a kind of re-enactment.

What?
Re-enactments are for nobs.

Yeah, he's right, they are.

Unless ya mean
like on Crimewatch.

Oh, now that's good, surely.

Sure! Why not? Except during
the battle, maybe you can mention

who you are,
what side you're on,

maybe what year it is.
General history.

All right,
but I want to be de Valera.

Yeah, we're Dev.

Could I be
Padraic Pearse's mother?

I could be
a postman at the GPO.

I want to be
an innocent bystander!

I'm gonna be a Brit.

So I can beat the shite
out of all of ye.

A Civil War re-enactment!
I was born to do this!

Any chance
you'll drive down to

the shop?
We need some schnapps.

Yeah, and make it schnappy,
will ya?

I told ya,
Grandad, I can't drive.

Why did we even
hire this hussy?

Every Moone should
be able to drive.

And why is that?

Well, whatever the reason,
we tend to land ourselves in "situations"

that require a swift escape.

Like annoying grandparents?

Why are you listening to
that Nazi tripe?

I've got an exam
on that Nazi tripe.

If ya want to learn anything,
ya should be learnin' jazz.

I was in a great
jazz band for years, ya know.

I was a real swingin' cat.
We were called "Rhapsody in Boyle".

Rhapsody in Boyle.

Listen,
Grandad, I'm tryin' to study.

Why don't you go
in and watch telly or something?

There's probably
cartoons on somewhere.

Draculady sure
has a sharp tongue.

I'd stick
a stake in her heart, but she ain't got none.

So, Grandad's got an imaginary
friend? Sure that's no surprise.

He's always
yapping away to himself. The big weirdo.

Yeah,
his name's George Gershwin

and he's some kind
of music composer

from the 1930s.

As I always say,
"Music is just a waste of a good golf."

Wise words, buddy.
But here's the thing.

Even though he's
just come back,

poor George may not be
around for very much longer.

Why not?

Well, you know,
your grandad's really quite old, and he might...

You know...

He might stop imagining him...
Is what I mean.

Well,
let that be a warning to you,

Sean.
Always keep me entertained.

Fair point.
Want me to do my trick?

Oh, yeah...
Magic it up, beardface!

OK. Now,
watch closely because this has always confused you.

You're some kind
of a witch, Murphy.

Unbelievable.
So I've been thinking.

Before poor
George bites the dust,

we could have
him make some kind of a "bucket list".

You ever hear of one of those?

Yeah,
I just finished writing one.

What? This is
a list of things you want to do before ya die?

No, this is just
a list of things I have inside this bucket.

Right.

Towel.
Trowel. List of things I

want to do before I die.
Driving gloves.

Ah, the bare necessities.

Headin' off now, Grandad!
Good night!

Grandad?

I need to get to my gig.

What are you talking about?

We're opening for
ol' Fats Fatman.

And that greasy
goon's got no time

for nothin' but
a second dessert.

What gig?

I can't be feckin' late!
They're all waiting for me.

You sure it's...tonight?

Ah, feck it!

Don't blow your wig,
Joe, I'm sure

that fat
fruitcake is still workin'

on a fat fruitcake.

Why don't you come back inside
and I'll fix us a fresh cuppa?

Or... Something stronger?

Yeah, all right, love.

Be careful, Joe,
I think she means blood.

A five and a three.
That's eight, eight for Joe.

This is great, isn't it, Dad?
Maths,

property,
colours, the whole shebang.

Why are we doing this shit?

We're keeping you stimulated,
like Doctor Huxtable suggested.

Do you think that
nickname is racist?

I'm really not
decided on that.

Pearse Street.
Want to buy it, Joe?

In Dublin? No way, Jose. Had a
situation with a stripper there once.

Had to make a swift escape.

Where's all your
money gone, Dad?

Oh, I've tucked that away
for a rainy day.

Don't listen to 'em, Joe.

You'll be the one laughing
when Black Wednesday hits 'em!

Damn right, George.

Who's George?

We're rumbled, Joe. Sock him
in the jewels and let's blow this joint.

I meant...
Jacks. I need the jacks.

Down the hall, on the right.

We know where
the damn restroom is!

Other way, Joe.

Has he been
acting like this a lot?

No, not really.

Did you know he
was in a jazz band called "Rhapsody in Boyle"?

He just likes
tellin' stories, love.

Like you and
the handball thing?

Hey!
I was a wonderful handballer.

Grandad isn't well, pet.
But if he gets

any worse,
ya need to let us know.

Why?

We'll have to move him
into the hospital.

I don't think he'd like that,
he loves being home.

And he's really not that bad.

Just talks to himself a bit,
but no more than Martin.

Well, we're pretty sure
Martin's got Alzheimer's, too.

Well, that's what I thought
a bucket list was, too,

but apparently it means
something else entirely.

Wait, does that mean I have to
rewrite all of these?

So what do you think?
Are ya in?

I dunno, Martin. It'd mean
cancelling the Civil War re-enactment.

And I'd been
looking forward to that my whole life.

Since ya told me
about it yesterday.

Yeah,
I do feel bad about that.

Ah, flip it,
we'll do it next week.

So it's settled.
Next week Civil

War,
this week, Gershwin, that OK?

A bucket list for
George Gershwin!

I was born to do this!

Hey,
take me for a drive, will ya?

You know I can't drive.

Then I'll drive. Come on.

I've got my
first exam in three

days.
Can't you just go without me?

Debra's on her
way over to teach us line-dancing.

Isn't that something you'd
like a swift escape from?

I'll get ya the keys.

A bucket list, huh?

Ain't that a swell bell.

So, you're up for it?

I think it's
a dandy plan, fellas! You boys are the cat's meow!

What did he say?

Not a clue.

Did you put this on?

Want the Nazi tripe instead?

No. It's... Not terrible.

I just don't get
why it matters.

Because I want
to go to college.

College smollege.
We played clubs all over the country,

and the brightest
women I ever met were a pair of exotic dancing twins

called Booby and Tits O'Toole.

You think I
should be a stripper?

Not sure you have
the ankles for it, to be honest.

Girls go to college now.
Ironically,

it's mainly to
have sex, but still...

In my day, everybody cheated
their way through examinations.

Right. And how'd you do that?

Loads of ways.
Write the answers inside chewing gum wrappers...

Bribe your teacher with a box
of snuff...

Invisible ink...

That one doesn't
even make sense.

Where the hell are we?

How the hell should I know?
You're the one driving.

I thought there
was a jazz club here.

The Flippity Flophouse.

What the hell is
happening to me?

Take me home.

Anything else?

Well, let's see now...

Before the lights
go out for good,

I wanna play one
last game of baseball.

Baseball?
OK, what do ya think, buddy?

Would a game of
rounders do, Mr G?

Actually, he's,
he's standing over here,

but don't worry,
no point fretting about

the logic of it
all at this stage.

This is kind of a long shot,
but is there any chance

I could get behind the wheel
of an automobile?

An automobile? Hmm...

An automobile?

Er, I have a tractor.

Of course you do.

Anything else, Mr.
Gershwin? How

about one last
tinkle on the ivories?

Not sure that's
the expression.

Ya know what would be aces?
To see a nudey lady one last time!

OK, well,
that one might be tricky, but we'll put it on the list.

Nudey lady, Martin.

A nudey lady, Padraic.

I already had it down.

How do I change gears?

I don't know,
I'm all confused. Is it that?

Try the pedal on the left.

I think that worked!

More accelerator.
Don't be afraid

of it...
Now throw in the clutch,

and get us up into third.

You seem better now.

Ah, comes and goes.
Stupid bloody illness.

Look at you driving.

What is that? That's not...
I'm just gonna throw it.

I'm just gonna throw it.

Badda badda, swingball.

Can't take my heat, bitch.

You ready?

Catch it, boys!

Holy shnolly.

Go on, catch it!
Catch it, boys! Catch it!

Come on, he's getting around!

Nobs.

She's a right
bitch to get started.

So Padraic will get her going,
then jump off,

and you'll take the wheel.

Ha-ha!
I don't understand a word you

sayin',
Curly, but let's do it!

Whoo-hoo!

OK, Grandad.
Heel and heel, heel, heel.

Bit to the right, left.

And three, and four.

I've never driven this fast!

What the...

Come on!

Get it, Padraic!

Get it, we'll lose the deposit

Grandad?

Grandad.

Oh, I see.
Think I'm your bloody chauffeur now, do ya?

Forget your
feckin' gig, Grandad.

C'mon, it's freezing out here.

Grandad?

I'm gonna steal your
wallet now, I'm not jokin'...

Grandad,
you bollocks.

And so it
was that Martin Moone ended up at his first funeral,

for the only
grandad he ever knew...

Good morning,
ladies and gentlemen, you're all welcome.

...and the only
1930's music composer he ever knew.

What can I say
about Joe Moone?

What can I say
about George Gershwin?

I didn't know him
very well myself,

as Joe told me
he preferred to do

his praying in private...

But like all of us,
he was many

different things
to many people.

To some a father,
to others, a grandfather.

To others, a valued customer
of a burlesque club.

To some, he was a friend.
To some, a casually racist uncle.

To others,
a crasher of tractors,

a poppy puffer,
a peeper of toms...

And to others still, he was...

I never actually met him.

A total stranger.
A man of mystery. A friend we hadn't yet met.

Joe lived a long
and eventful life.

I once visited
him in the nursing

home and he was
full of fascinating

memories,
whether it was playing piano for Chubby Checker,

or gun-running for Gandhi,
or of course filming the moon landing.

George Gershwin
lived a very short life and then disappeared.

And then he came back,
and lived an even shorter life.

So like a really great film,
George had a sequel

which wasn't quite as good
as the original.

And although he
wasn't the hero, he was a hero, sort of.

And on this very
sad day, I'm reminded of these poetic words...

But above all,
Joe was a music man.

So what better
way to say goodbye

than through
the work of his hero, George Gershwin.

"Where have all
the good men gone? And where are all the gods?

"Where is
the street-wise Hercules

"to fight the rising odds?

"I need a hero.

"I'm holding out for a hero
till the end of the night."

You mind if I join ya, love?

He would've hated this.

Ah, yeah.
But sure, he hated most things.

This is what he
would have wanted.

Yeah.
This, but with strippers.

Ah.
He was a dirty old bastard.

"And he's got to be strong.
And he's got to be fast.

"And he's got to be
fresh from the fight."

Gershwin!

You potato
munchers sure know how to throw a good funeral.

It's a real doozie, fellas.

I thought I was
headed for that big speakeasy in the sky.

But then I just
kept on existing.

So I suppose
you're a ghost now?

A ghost?

That's what ghosts really are.

They're not dead people.

What? Is that what
people think? Urgh.

Ghosts are just
imaginary friends who've been left behind.

I'll see ya, Deb.
Think I'm gonna head home, get drunk in the bath.

I better shake a leg, boys.

I gotta give
a nudey lady a case of the heebie-jeebies.

- Nice to meet you, George.
- So long, Paddy.

So long...
I never learnt your name.

I wouldn't worry.

He reminds me of
Joe at that age, same stupid face...

Aw.

I gotta make a swift escape.

So long, ya monochrome muppet.

Hey, let him know,
if he ever needs me...

I don't know how
he'd get in touch with

me, I mean,
it's not like I have...

You know what,
forget I said... Never mind.

He said bye.

Aw, bye.

Wrong way, buddy.

You cheeky bastard...

That's it,
tuts, bend that back.

Whoopsy-daisy.

Where the hell is
Michael Collins?

Is that him?

Oh. Oh, God.

Ah, what
a beautiful day for a battle.

I'd like to put
on the record that I'm not behind this idea.

Shut up and do
your thing, Godzilla!

Raaar!

If you wanna stay around,
you'll put some welly into it.

Raaar!

Ooh,
I gave myself a little fright that time.

Actually that was pretty good.
OK,

let's go re-enact
some Irish history!

Yup, that's what we're doing.