Original subtitles

Lunar

The

divorce?

Yes, always an inevitability, I'm afraid.

The girl had never been outside her own class, and Nelly's worldly expansiveness shocked

her.

Hmm.

I can imagine.

The suit will not be contested.

My helper handled all that with great discretion.

Never washed dirty linen in public, that's a rule.

Right, right.

Otherwise, the girl gets all the sympathy in the boy, winds up with soap all over his face

and gets the dirty water thrown over him as well.

I speak from experience, L'amani.

My helper's knack of flummoxing the gossip mongers is an art.

I refuse them to answer Norton's allegations in 1902 as exemplary.

She didn't want sympathy, she demanded respect.

I followed her leave, and Norton tried the same tactics on me.

That's why she's back at Covent Garden, celebrating her 20th season here.

And you were celebrating your 50th Jubilee.

Hmm.

You know, I thought about going back on stage for one last time, but without struck oil,

I have no proven vehicle to appear it.

Stolen from me.

The play I shaped, rewrote, nurtured, and appeared in over a thousand times.

Hmm.

Stolen from her.

Now, that bitch of a first wife of mine.

Why was it such a hit, you know?

Dicking her winner.

That's the hardest thing to do in theatre.

Dubbot, why do you think?

A trip to Chinatown is the longest running show in New York's history.

It didn't work here.

The dialogue from hardly be described as simulated.

Anything you require of this, sir?

Yeah, leave the room.

Anything else you want me to do, sir?

Yeah, get up.

Any other service I could perform for you, sir?

Yeah.

Stay out.

Hardly Shakespeare.

In the music, uh...

No, there's nothing very special.

What about it, Miss Williamson?

Do you want to go into partnership?

The Melbourne Williamson Grand Opera Company.

Hmm.

I can't possibly make any money out of it.

You get six nights at a grand opera.

And twelve times six at a comic.

Nevertheless, the public want to see Melbourne in opera.

She would be singing all her most famous roles in Australia.

For the first time.

Hmm.

The Melbourne Williamson Grand Opera season.

Melbourne for the first time in opera.

Major Shakespeare, having perhaps.

In the return season, Sarah Bernhardt.

Hmm.

Very stylish way of notching up a half century in about theatre.

Hmm.

Sarah Bernhardt.

Just when people are saying I don't always act some of my roles as well as I damn well did,

he wants to bring out the world's greatest actress to demonstrate my shortcomings.

Hmm.

Your acting has gone off a bit.

At least you got your hair on the side.

Hmm.

Your acting has gone off a bit.

At least you got your hair off.

And no trouble with your legs.

Which is more than you can say for poor mad and be.

What did you say?

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

I did something gross.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh, oh.

You're back.

Oh, hold on.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Okay.

Oh.

Okay.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh, my.

Oh wow, let me input you.

Well.

Oh.

Hah ha.

I'm a man, not a man, not a man.

Daudley, in our story, he should like the character.

Well, sunk course.

Oh, yes, very well. I'll put it on.

What?

The new monument, I'd say.

I can't be afraid from saying so, to nearly.

It makes us all like a bustle pedestal.

Still, 21 seasons have come again. I know you.

There is only one number.

And nothing can match a medal the night.

You played your part in a success, ladies?

I saw Rod Frederick.

Their success was entirely everything.

What I have to do is bring the Agalef and the Ballet roots to know you.

I dare say you will, and I dare say you will.

This corn roll is west, truthfully.

You can?

Look at you asking.

I feel like a man, I cannot remember.

Mother, there's someone here to see you.

Evie Doyle, you torturing Melbourne?

Oh, come in, darling.

I hope it's all right, but you did say.

Of course I did, dear.

I'd love to see you again.

Have you been practicing your singing?

Oh, yes.

You inspired me.

That's why I'm here.

Good girl.

I guess you had the right spirit.

And this is my son, George Armstrong.

I'm very well.

Thank you.

What do you think of London?

Oh, I love it.

And you were wonderful.

The Opera House is so beautiful.

I'm in a dream.

Mother's little fortress.

No one else is allowed to use this dressing room.

Mother's very jealous.

You've probably heard.

No.

Oh, I am.

I admit it.

It's my weakness.

If another singer gets as much applause as I do, I simply can't bear it.

Oh, I couldn't care less about her, you rude boy.

Oh, this rubbish in the papers.

What am I supposed to do?

Rush about being delighted that someone ten years younger than I am

is being praised in my roles.

Not that it matters.

There's a scot dumpling as broad as she's long.

It dies the size of sauces.

Blow!

Blow!

There are you, dreadful woman.

Coming there.

Mother, listen.

Melbourne reigns.

Last night, Melbourne surpassed herself.

People have wondered how this new artist and that new artist

would compare with Melbourne when she was once again heard at Covent Garden.

There is no comparison.

Melbourne reigns.

Excuse me, Miss.

Oh, Mother, how exciting is this?

Yes.

Well, we enjoyed it too, didn't we, dear?

I do wish she'd come to the stage door with me instead of waiting in the foyer.

Oh, no.

I should have been much too nervous.

I was actually in her dressing room.

And all because Mr. Armstrong inquired if he could help me.

There were dozens of other people, but he asked me.

What's he like?

Mr. Armstrong.

Charming.

Oh, yes, he's very nice.

His wife divorced him, you know.

Yes, I know.

But he's very pleasant and courteous.

He loved his visit to Australia.

He wants to return there as soon as possible.

He has his heart set on it.

He's devoted to his mother.

And he loves riding and playing polo.

And anyway, he invited me to tea, and I said yes.

Melbourne, in her own land, and with her own people.

That's what I want the tour called.

I want to meet adversity and criticism head-on.

I want to remind everyone that my first tour was strictly limited because of engagement services.

And that the second was private, not professional, even though I gave some concerts at the end.

This time I am theirs.

Many men and women in the outback are proud of me as an Australian.

I know they wish to hear me sing.

I want a brochure printed, distributed throughout the country.

Quotes from the newspapers.

Recent ones, mind you, or they'll say, I'm an old has-been.

Concentrate on England in the United States.

The less said about the continent, the better.

Imagine the charity concert in Paris, but nothing else.

Europe makes Australians uncomfortable.

They have visions of fast living and slow morals.

Leave out Brussels, Milan, Vienna.

Concentrate on Scotland, Ireland, and Wales, where they come from in the first place.

I wouldn't tell them about my concerts at Blackpool and on the Isle of Man.

Why?

What?

Why is it so important to you?

Well, because it is, that's all.

Australia is more than just my childhood home.

It's a magnet which draws me back.

Dear God, how I long for acceptance there, why do they belittle me and try to tear me down?

I must find a way into their hearts.

Medieval rappers stung together, from all sides of theippium both almost Sylvanas.

The blessing from the collectors by rule.

His heart maximum stands high where

for the most God's remember towards us

Will is strong for the highest

This is what that is is is is!

Ohhh!

On this tour, a legend has been born.

The legend of a woman at the triumphant peak of her career.

Refusing an offer of over 30,000 pounds of implicit South America,

preparing instead to return to her native country,

which she has won the hearts of all.

Our dear Nelly!

Our dear Nelly!

I would never have done it without you, John.

The ideal manager and the most considerate man in the world.

John.

Ten thousand miles, we covered, seven thousand by train.

Oh yes.

My poor bones will never be the same again.

We travelled from Townsville to Gladstone by coastal steamer, 540 miles.

I was hoping to see Mackay again, Daddy,

but they still have no proper dog or jetty there, so it was impossible.

Mackay.

The place where you were born, George.

Seems to lifetime again.

It is.

Mine.

Twenty-six years.

I started the tour with the feeling I had never had before.

What would they think of me?

Would they really come to hear?

Would they like the songs I was going to sing?

Or would they prefer something simpler, something easier to understand?

I need not have asked.

I never had more appreciative audiences.

How they repaid me.

Well, on that note of musical satisfaction, I shall say good night.

Good night, Daddy.

Good night, John. Good night, George.

Till we meet again.

Good night, Grandfather.

Good night, Laddie.

There's a boy happy.

I hope so.

I blame myself for what happened.

You're always blaming yourself.

Daddy, I want to buy Dooley's farm at Coldstream.

I want to have a place of my own here.

In Australia.

John Dooley?

He works at my limestone quarry.

He will discuss the matter with him.

I spoke to Mrs. Dooley.

They live in the little cottage, but they have no use for the land.

Oh, it's a nice glassy sweep of pasture I grant you, but...

What do you want with a farm, Lass?

I want a home.

A base.

A place where I can relax.

A place where George can ride and shoot.

He has spent most of his life farming.

When I am far away from Australia, it is always a lily day.

And it's rolling blue hills that live in my imagination.

It will be extremely costly to lay on adequate water.

The natural supply is very meager.

Daddy, it will be money well spent.

I must have a home in Australia near you.

In the region you have made prosperous.

I'm getting too old to appreciate failure.

I don't enjoy seeing empty seats anymore.

It's not the money so much.

It's the professional pride, as well.

Quite.

The firm has lost on every grand opera seat.

Every grand opera season since, let me see, 20 years ago,

when we first presented Caliachi and Campo de Arresticara.

Both written by good friends of mine.

Exactly where the expenditure will end on this season,

of course neither of us can say.

But it does seem certainly minimum running costs.

We'll be £40,000 a week.

Yes.

I just wanted you to be conscious of the risk you're taking.

I see.

Mr. Williamson, I was the first singer of major importance

to consent to having their voice recorded.

Others refused to frighten to the results.

I took the risk.

In 1906, I agreed to sing at Hammerstein's Manhattan Opera.

Other artists were afraid to associate themselves

as such a controversial venture.

I took the risk.

And now, when I could more easily be singing at the world's most prestigious opera houses

or more profitably been making more recordings, I can assure you

that I am entirely conscious of the risk I am taking.

My heart and soul are set on this project, Mr. Williamson.

They are Australian public.

I want them to experience something they have never known before.

When I appear in Grand Opera before them,

my greatest ambition will be realized.

Right.

I know where I'm going,

and I know who's going with me.

I know who I love,

but the dear knows who I'm already.

I have stockings of silk,

and shoes of fine green leather,

and crumbs to buckle my hair,

and a ring for everything else.

Won't you come out to dinner with me?

Or to the opera?

George, I'm leaving London soon. I've come to say goodbye.

Oh.

I'm sorry.

I must go home to Brisbane. My parents worry about me.

So do I.

What do you mean?

What happens to you means more to me than anything?

You mustn't say that.

I have. It's true, Evie.

When am I going to see you again?

George, I'm terribly fond of you. You know that.

But my family is Irish, Catholic.

I can't.

You can't associate with someone who's been divorced.

Is that how you really feel?

It doesn't necessarily matter what one's family thinks you know.

Evie, Doyle.

I...

What would I have heard you singing?

How are you, my dear?

You're singing sounding well?

Have you been keeping up with your lessons?

I have.

I've been asked to sing at several swarries.

Good!

You taught me more in ten minutes than any teacher before or since.

Oh, you are a dear.

Has George told you of my Australian purchase?

Yes.

I am very excited.

The designs of the house are perfect.

John Granger did them.

His son is the brilliant young pianist.

Percy Granger?

It will be a large one-story house.

It incorporates a sweet little stone cottage already there.

How lovely.

Yes, perfect.

I shall plant poplars and elves at a cypress hedge.

I shall have a swimming pool and a rose garden.

And George, I have decided to call it Coome Cottage.

Coome Cottage?

Yes.

It will be yours one day.

It plays for you and your family.

Mother, you're always jumping ahead.

Yes, Matthew. What is it?

Madam Marquesi would like to speak with you.

Madam Marquesi?

Hello, Nelly.

Blanche.

How are you?

I have not seen you since your dear father's death.

I was heartbroken.

It was inevitable.

He was 91.

Nelly, I have just come from Paris.

How is my damn mom?

She is...

Well.

Oh no.

Is she ill?

She cannot live without her husband.

I always knew my parents loved each other.

I never realized the depth of their love.

That is what ails her.

Oh, my dear Blanche.

How she must be suffering.

Her grief is not desperate.

She isn't either depressed, no distraught.

She is simply drifting away.

Oh Nelly, please go to her.

I see on Wednesday I shall leave for Paris on Thursday.

Oh, thank you.

I wish we had been friends.

You are my mother's friend.

It was a long journey.

Senior and senior of where they came out to meet us at the gate.

Pine trees.

Beautiful pine trees.

And a lake.

Oh, who are you, my dear?

It is Nelly.

Nelly.

Nelly Milba.

I have come from London.

This season at Covent Garden has just finished.

Covent Garden.

You were never taught by me.

Who are you?

I have melt them, madame.

No.

You have a slight look of her, but you are not Milba.

Senior of where they studied, had furniture in yellow velvet.

In this Egyptian style, I eat.

Do you know it?

Please, dear Mr. Medha.

Please remember, we have wept and laughed together.

You must remember. I love you.

In Usejo, we visited the Teatro Verity.

Salvatori, Madai.

Latraviata, I think it was, for Namu.

Charming.

The atmosphere.

The feeling of light.

Morning, James.

Happy birthday.

I am not happy.

I am 50.

Nobody would guess. You don't look it.

Does she?

No.

You need glasses. I shall make an appointment for you.

I shall put that. You see Malta.

How old are you?

28.

How old are you?

How old are you?

28?

How old are you?

50.

It has crept up on me.

The old age of youth.

The youth of old age.

As young as you feel.

Then I am 25.

And I have the energy to prove it.

Energy.

Give the energy of a volcano.

Yes, well, in any case, you may count yourself lucky.

You are a man.

You are an old before her time.

Oh, my darling boy.

Thank you.

I thought you were lost forever.

I am.

I must not let you rush into anything.

I let you do that.

Don't worry.

Evie Doyle is my dearest friend.

Friendship is not love.

I want you to be happy.

Why I am?

Believe me, Mother.

Do you remember what she said about a second chance?

You still love me.

Of course I do.

Why?

Everyone likes to be loved.

I should think you get plenty of that.

One never gets enough love.

Strange.

My marriage was a disaster.

But I feel no bitterness.

I was forced to give up the only man I truly loved.

The audience is a lover.

A dread mirror which sees all ones faults but remains ones most intimate friend.

There are people I do not know.

Imagine it.

Who have followed my entire career.

Who have learned everything they can about me.

Yet I shall never meet them.

We do not exchange letters.

We shall never speak.

And yet I know they love me.

I love you.

I am not a lover.

I am not a lover.

I am not a lover.

I am not a lover.

I am not a lover.

I am not a lover.

I am not a lover.

I am not a lover.

Just a whisper.

Just a whisper.

Just a whisper

You

in

Rosenthal

Say goodbye!

Fifty years.

Fifty years in theater.

You know, I still look upon America as my native country.

I was born there, but I'm Australian too.

I live here.

I plan to die here.

I want to celebrate my jubilee here.

In my day, the idea of every American boy

was to hit out for himself.

So when my parents died, I decided

to join the touring company.

I remember my guardian saying, if you go now, you go,

you go, there's no coming back.

So at the age of 15, off I go.

And from that day to this, the stage has been my life.

I've painted it.

I've swept it.

I performed on it.

I've been a cold boy.

I've been a carpenter, a stage manager.

And I've acted in New York, England, Scotland, Ireland,

and right throughout Australia.

Now one day, I decided to do something

I swore I would never do.

So help me.

I went into management.

And then I was doing quite well enough as an actor.

An actor can always take a holiday.

But once a manager gets going, he's got to keep going.

And so here are my today straining at the collar.

Gentlemen, this opera season that Madam Mulburn

I will be presenting will be on a scale such

as Australians can hardly dream of realizing again

for many years to come.

On Friday, I'll be leaving for Europe,

where I'll be joining Madam Mulburn Mr. John Lomoney

in their quest for the most outstanding singers available.

I am very confident about the results.

Caruso, will he be coming?

Yes, Mr. Williamson.

What about Caruso?

We cannot possibly afford singers like Calvio Caruso, John.

Besides, they would scarcely be available for such a long run.

But Williamson must be realistic.

It's not so much filling for the season

as the 12 weeks voyage to Australia and back.

Exactly.

That is why we are going to audition, interview,

investigate, discover.

We need some brilliant newcomers.

We need a happy company who can work and live together.

How do you spell receive?

E-I or I-E?

I before E except after C.

They both are wrong.

I've started this letter about 12 times.

Hm.

He must be writing to E.V. Doyle.

Oh, if John McCormick says yes, she will be pleased.

Irish, you know.

McCormick will generate a much excitement as Caruso,

and he's young enough to enjoy the challenge.

Younger than George, in fact.

Maybe I should be playing Lady Capulet, not just me.

Mm-hmm.

Mm-hmm.

Mr. McCormick has arrived, Mark.

Excellent.

Speak of the devil.

Show him in advice.

Such a charming young man.

And what a voice.

Mm.

Mr. McCormick, Mom.

John, my dear.

How lovely to see you.

The answer is yes, Madame Melba.

A resounding yes.

You sing as beautifully as anybody ever sang.

I believe, in fact, I know I sound better with Madame Melba

than with any other soprano.

You are offering me an irresistible combination

of art and adventure.

How can I refuse?

So excellent.

Mm.

Hello, Simon.

The microphone is in the middle.

Yes, right.

Except for Romeo and from Mal's to all the other roles

I'll be singing to the talent.

I'm looking forward to the cheer.

I understand.

Frankly, James, I can finish.

I am relieved that Saravir was a few to you.

But not just on my account.

It is 20 years since she was last in Australia.

It is not the goddess of old, much as I love her.

No matter.

I have you, Nellie.

Your enthusiasm has rejuvenated me.

God, I believe the seasonable workers love.

And if you will.

I'll give you a kiss.

We have journeyed all over Europe,

talking to artists personally in order

that all may be straight sailing.

St. Petersburg, Warsaw, Paris, Milan, Venice, Bologna.

Well, not to mention you.

But one of our greatest difficulties

has been trying to get artists to travel so far

and for so long in view of their engagements

in Europe and America.

This is quite a journey.

Much the managers of opera houses have been very accommodating.

Thanks to you.

I doubt whether they're always.

The metal soul reason is very good to me.

I'm sure they're not.

You know, of course, I have the great good fortune

to be singing with your mother at the gallop of formants

in honor of the coronation of King George

at Coffin Garden the week after next.

What I was reading in the Times,

anyone of consequence who's physically able to attend

will be there.

The whole royal family, the entire chord of a motif.

Everyone.

To my mind, Covent Garden is the most perfectly appointed

and the most efficient in minutes

at opera house in the world.

Their gallop performances are a feast for the eyes

as well as the ears.

Plenty of atmosphere.

Yeah.

We have backed a winner.

My voice is in good shape.

Your voice.

Now, when I hear you sing, I know why the toast, the cigar,

the desserts, the chocolates, the perfumes,

the theaters, the cafes, and quite a few little girls

being named after you.

Absolutely true.

You were wonderful last night.

McCormick was splendid too.

Thank you, Mr. Williamson.

I am delighted with our company.

Chineiro says every bit is brilliant as Covay.

Yes, Celia, Nora, I am talking about you.

Dear Nellie, you are a too kind.

And I am delighted that Edmund Burke is signed up.

He is the best methodist since Edward D'Reshka.

Here, here.

Here.

Ladies and gentlemen, permit me, if I may, to propose a toast.

To Madame Melbourne and the success of her great opera

Benjamin.

To our opera-venture.

Madame Nellie.

Benjamin.

So, thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Oh, so are we fontura.

Oh, no, japies, oh, d'imini, de tírco de fresal, bonon.

Pinte de fresal, pis og, pis og, pis og, pis og, pis og, pis og, pis og, pis og,

pis og, pis og, pis og, pis og, pis og, pis og, pis og, pis og, pis og, pis og,

pis og, pis og, pis og, pis og, pis og, pis og, pis og, pis og, pis og, pis og,

pis og, pis og, pis og, pis og, pis og, pis og, pis og, pis og, pis og, pis og, pis og,

pis og, pis og, pis og, pis og, pis og, pis og, pis og, pis og, pis og, pis og,ü

This Queen of Song...

This Queen of Song has realized the great dream of her life.

I have.

Madame Melba's dream was to stage a grand opera season in Australia.

Upon this eventful night, she has consummated that colossal task.

This dear lady with the voice of gold and the heart of gold

desired only an artistic success.

This night will mark the turning point in the music history of this country.

On behalf of Madame Melba, I thank you and she thank you.

I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

I am very happy.

For tonight, I have realized the dream of my life.

APPLAUSE

I celebrated 25 years at Covent Garden in 1913,

with La Boer and with Caruso.

He said the ovation was more explosive than anything he had ever experienced before.

And then the war in August of 1914,

gradually dawned on us.

The bleak, black endlessness of it.

I was seized with a desire to do something, something practical.

My concerts in Aide of the Red Cross and they were legion, did not fill the gap.

I tried knitting.

The wool I wasted, the stitches I dropped.

Socks that were useless for any human foot.

I travelled throughout Australia, New Zealand, Canada and the United States.

I raised more than £100,000 for the Red Cross.

I published a gift book in Aide of the Belgian Relief Fund.

After the war,

the world was never secure again.

My first night back at Covent Garden,

walking upstairs and down the same corridor to my dressing room,

sitting before the same mirror, making up,

and putting on once more the same simple dress of Mimi,

as though nothing had happened.

And yet, in every shadow, in every bustling noise outside the door,

in every air I breathed.

Ghosts!

So many dead.

My beloved father,

my dear mademar case,

Lady de Grey, dear sweet gladers,

gone, Alfred de Rothschild,

and the young man of the world.

My dear mother,

my dear mademar Casey,

Lady de Grey, dear sweet gladers,

gone,

Alfred de Rothschild,

Auguste's Harris,

Ronda Risk.

I peered into the glass.

It is not you, I said to myself.

It cannot be Melbourne.

It is somebody else.

So many have gone.

It cannot be you that has remained.

I made two mistakes in my career.

I was a fool to sing Brunhilde

when Wagner was all the rage.

Mademar Casey begged me not to.

And perhaps I went on singing too long.

One more concert and then just one more.

But the thought of saying goodbye

to one's career is stupefying.

It is saying goodbye to one's life.

And I never once sang to less than a foolhouse.

I close my eyes

and it seems to me that life has been very wonderful.

A sea of faces.

A face of my father bending over me as a child.

The stern face of Mademar Casey

from the shadows of her music room in Paris.

The face of my tiny son, as I nursed him

with a hot rain dripping on the roof of the cottage in MacKay.

The face of a little woman who I shall never know

who approached me one day in the snow outside the opera house

in Philadelphia and asked me for a red rose.

And when I had given it to her,

she said to me,

words which I shall never forget.

Bless you, my beautiful heart.

And now there is only one more word to say.

That is farewell.

I won't say goodbye because farewell is such a very beautiful word.

I am sure you all know it is part of a prayer

and it means fair thee well,

which I wish you all.

And I feel sure that you wish me the same.

And come.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you.