All language subtitles for Black.Pond.2011.WEBRip.x264-ION10

Before I die,
I'd like to play a prince.

A noble prince, like princes
in the plays,

who fights and shouts
and dances like a god.

This place is mired by dirt
that will be seen.

In some untold,
unsensed dimension here...

where I surrender
all my worldly faults.

No longer am I scared to be
confused,

revered, remembered,

forgotten and abused.

No one wants to see themselves
splashed all over the papers,

do they really?

Umm...

And it's not quite right that
Tom just confessed.

Actually, the police
came round to the house

because in discovering Blake
they'd also discovered Boy,

who was still wearing his tag,
I think,

and, um, so, so actually
that's how they found us

and they were
making inquiries,

so the first we heard of it was
actually this sort of

15-year-old policeman
appeared at the door

asking questions about it.

Sophie's doing what she always
wanted to do,

which is write
poetry and be without me,

so she got two results

and, um, and,
you know, I-- I--

Although obviously I lost my job
because of the publicity,

but, you know,

that cliché about a crisis being
an opportunity is very-

it's very fucking true.

Lost it?

Almost like he doesn't need
you anymore, isn't it?

Very true, yes.

If he can swim in the lake
and go home as he pleases.

I didn't mean to be intrusive.

I'm perfectly normal.

Last winter, of course,
the whole surface froze over.

Very peaceful.

I came here at dusk one evening,
almost without realizing.

Oh, the colors, Tom.

May I call you Tom?

Yes, of course.

The colors, Tom.

Just-- just arriving
in patterns.

He seemed to not have that
membrane of social stuff

that separates you from people
in a kind of correct way.

He-- he seemed-

His boundaries
were very porous.

So I think I kind of knew that
he was probably some sort of

care-in-the-community person.

But he was very gentle and he
was very, um, poetic.

Of course, sometimes
I just come here

and cry a great deal
remembering everything.

Oh, I'm sorry to hear that.

Oh, no, no, in a good way.

I've had some lovely cries.

The story goes that some woman
went missing round here,

very beautiful apparently,

married to
a high court judge.

Just round here somewhere.

A wealthy, happy couple.

But of course, one winter,
she went missing

and nobody knew why.

The husband spent a great
deal of money and effort

trying to trace her.

Posters, articles, searches.

Fruitless.

And eventually she was
presumed dead.

But he wrote in his memoirs
that, one morning,

almost exactly a year
after she had gone missing,

he was walking by this lake,

frozen over, just as
I've described,

and he saw
a hole in the ice

about 50 yards in,
just there.

That was his wife.

Telling him...

that she
had fallen through.

But-- But how
would you search?

I mean, you wouldn't want
to, would you?

You might find her.

Oh, and it might all just be a
load of cobblers, of course.

You know, I've not heard
that story before.

Oh, a stranger in a pub,
I think, passed it on to me,

when I mentioned I liked
fishing here.

Doesn't it put you off?

I mean, that you might end up
catching some human bones?

There's no danger of catching
anything here.

That's why I like it.

It's very peaceful.

Well...

Yes, extraordinary.

I guess I'd better be
pushing on.

Thank you very much.

Thank you.

Fascinating.

Nice talking with you,
I hope I--

I hope we run
into each other again.

Yes.

Um...

Do you want a cup of tea?

Yes, please.

I think I just took him back
for a cup of tea

and that's how safe
I felt around him.

You know, I didn't think he was
dangerous in any way.

And I know people think that's
an odd thing to do, but I...

I just invited him back for
a cup of tea.

At times, I guess I kind of
cast myself as their slave,

but that was mainly because I
didn't really have much to do.

Did you just buy these
so that you could have them

when I didn't want them?

I thought they
might cheer you up.

What, by reminding me
that I'm ugly?

Jess, you're beautiful.
- No, I'm not.

What are you doing?

Why are you wearing all of
those at the same time?

Well, I don't know, do I?
- You're supposed to
pick out one bit

and then wear it
with something else.

I don't know how
it works, do I?

I've made breakfast,
if you're hungry.

I think he just is
a bloke who--

with a bit too much time
on his hands, frankly.

I did wonder if he was actually
seeing one of the girls,

but they've told me
that wasn't the case.

Funny boy.

Rainbow weather,

which in the modern sense
of the word "rainbow,"

I suppose means: any sexuality
or gender of weather, welcomed.

I'm very impressed with
how he gets around

on those three pegs.

He thinks you've
come to play, see.

He's obsessed with the ball.

It's like his safety.

You don't sit down
very much, do you?

He's very anxious
and nervous.

He has to distract
himself with the ball,

that's when he knows
he's okay, with the ball.

We had a conversation in our
house for the first time

in I don't know how long;

years, I mean years,
since the girls left.

We actually had a conversation
in our house,

between the three of us.

I didn't find that
frightening.

It just seemed like a relief.

Katie has a thing
for the wounded.

Jess has a thing
for being wounded.

But I think it was Katie
who spotted him, really.

She likes to look
after things.
- Yes.

She used to bring back
the strangest boys.

Absolutely,
all lame ducks and--

What was that bloke who was
allergic to everything,

wasn't he--
He couldn't wear wool.

Oh, Toby.

90% of Christmas presents out
the window for a start,

but Katie's
not as bright as Jess.

We always thought she'd
probably grow up to be a nurse.

Because she's not bright?

Well, and because she used to
play at being a nurse

quite a lot.

And Jess would always insist
on being the patient.

Yes.

She's the creative one,
if you like.

She's a very
good musician.

But she's very fragile.

Katie's very calm
in comparison.

No, not calm, but...

Jess, even when she was very
tiny, she used to cry

for no reason.

Just one minute she'd be happy
in the pram,

next minute she'd be crying,

so it was quite clear even then,
wasn't it?

Well, that was
different, Tom.

That was just her
being a baby.
- Was it?

Oh.

You must be very proud.

♪ Boy

♪ Boy

♪ Boy

♪ Boy

Why did you
call him "Boy"?

That was just because when I
first brought him home, I said,

"Here, boy," and he responded
straight away,

just came straight over.

Here, Boy,
here, Bo--

He's a bit deaf now but--
I did tell him it was weird.

I wanted to
call him Clare.

After John Clare,
you know.

The poet.

Ended up in an asylum.

Oh.

Oh, I'd love to read
some of his stuff.

He was a very beautiful man,
he was a genius,

but very lonely.

Well, there is something
of that in all of us.

Scornful and jealous
and frightened of everyone,

but still for some reason in
dire and desperate need of them,

of people.

We hate them
but we require them.

We love them,
but we wonder why

they do not always love us
back in equal measure.

We are mathematicians
of devotion.

Misers of love.

And we always know when
we have been shortchanged.

Always.

Ooh.

Very deep.

Yes, very deep indeed.

I always forget that Sophie was
a poet when I first met her.

Which implies I'm not now.

Oh, are you?

No.

The truth is
I never was a poet,

it was just a distraction from
the fact that I wasn't anything.

It was just a disguise.

Actually, I tell you what.

I can go and fish them out
if you like.

Oh no, Tom, don't.
- Only be a minute.

Please don't.

Tom!

You're embarrassing
me, Tom.

Where are you going?

To put the kettle back on.

"I live here among the
ignorant like a lost man,

in fact like one whom the rest
seems careless of having

anything to do with,

and I find more pleasure in
walking in the fields

than in musing among
my silent neighbors,

who are insensible
to everything

but toiling and talking of it
and that to no purpose."

I'm so sorry
you feel that way.

Oh no, that was him.

That was something he said.

Ah.

Hm.

Don't think I've seen
that poem before.

"Someone somewhere says
hello to someone else.

Some item somewhere stirs.

Some tire hits some can

and the world changes shape,
like you,

changing shapes
and shifting things,

like us.

Shifting."

Hmm.

Shifting.

Profound.

And so we were by the lake, or
pond, as your husband calls it.

Ah.

Black Pond, it's called.
- Oh yes?

I think because when it freezes
over, it's still really dark,

it's a sort of black ice.

Oh no, it's wife in winter.

White.
- What?

You said "wife."

No, I said "white."

Yeah.

Um, Tom?

Where's he gone?

Sorry, Blake.

"For we are those that make
the stronger strong.

Our misery is how
the happy know what happy is.

All modes compared,

our moods are grayer than the
summer's bleakest skies

when revelers await
the heat of light,

but all that comes is
thunder and despair."

I asked you to leave
those alone.

I was just reading,
that's all.

They're not
for you to read.

They're not for
anyone to read.

Well, don't be silly.
- I'm throwing it away.

No, don't throw it away,
please.

Since when have you
given a fuck?

I give a massive fuck.

No, don't.
- I'm throwing it away.

No, don't, please don't.

I like them!

Well, you may as well put
them in the recycling.

It is paper after all.

You want me to put my poems
in the recycling?

If I acted as
a kind of whetstone

for that new surge of poetry,

that angry stuff she's writing
now, then I--

You know, without me,

she wouldn't have been able
to do that, so I guess I--

I wouldn't be surprised if she
dedicates a book to me.

It's not out of the question.

You all right?

Oh.

Oh yes, thank you.

Nice shed.

It is good,
isn't it, yes.

I'm Eric Sacks,
psychotherapist.

I'm not qualified,
but who are you?

Hello.

Are you sad?
Lonely? Depressed?

Crying?

Are you crying right now?

Maybe you can't cry.

Difficult, isn't it?

Life is awful.

Isn't life awful?

Shocking, isn't it?

It's just fucking awful,
isn't it?

I can cure you.

Treatment is free.

My parents are dead.

Are you armed?

Just say: "Yes, I am armed,"
or, "no, I'm not armed."

No, I'm not armed.
- Right, come in.

This is my house.

It's large.

My parents are dead.

This was a guy who was

claiming to be some kind of
psychotherapist,

but all he really seemed to
be doing was just sort of

making fun of me.

Tim?
- Yes, Tim.

Tim?

It's funny--
It's a funny, um...

It's a funny--
- It's a very common name--

Tim.
- Tim is a very common--

Tim, Tim, Tim-Tim.

That's-- It's not even
a name, it's a sound.

Oh, did you hear
that little--

Tim?
Did you hear that?

You can call me something else
if it bothers you, if my name--

Graham?

Only because if I'm at
a party and I go, "Oh, hi Tim.

Oh sorry, Graham's over there--
Graham, you beast!"

You know,
amongst other things,

I told him about what happened
that weekend

with the Thompsons and,

you know,
like with everything else,

he sort of seemed to find it
hilarious.

But there was something in him
that seemed to take

a particular
interest in that story.

So I guess we talked about it
more than other things.

I only spoke about it
because I thought--

I presumed
it was confidential.

That's the point of
a therapy session,

but it was a couple of
days after that that, you know,

the police started digging up
the land around Black Pond

and it all sort of--

It all started getting
messy, so...

I mean, it-- it must have been,
it must have been him.

It calms you, yes.

Yoga is supposed to calm you
as well, isn't it?

Yes, that calms you as well.
- I've never really found that.

That's citronella.
- Oh.

I light it for the mosquitoes
in case they want to read.

There we go.

All it does is attract moths
to the table.

Yes, but moths don't bite.

Mosquitoes do.

That's why we use it, see?

Hello, here I am, speaking live
from the Thompsons' garden

and I understand you're still
in a bad mood, is this correct?

Oh dear.

Do you want a top-up,
Blake?

No, I'm fine, thank you.

I tell you what.

You've had a rough day.

I'll make some dinner.

Oh no, you can't do that.
- No, it's no bother at all.

What have you got
in your fridge?

All right, we can all
make it together.

No, Blake, that's really
sweet of you but--

Of course, you can stay
to dinner if you like.

Can't he?

Tom was pouring wine down his
and Blake's neck

like, being the good host.

Give me your best shot.

Give me your worst shot.

To be honest, I'd just sort of
left them to it, really,

by that point.

Come on!

Out!

Out!

Try this for size!

Salute you,
you are a worthy opponent.

Do either of you want some
coffee or tea or something?

Come on, Sophie!
- No, thank you.

Would you like a swim?

No, thank you.

A nice swim?

Well, the down side of having
a tedious life

is that you have
a tedious life.

But the upside is you get
a swimming pool in the summer.

Drown me more!

Drown me more.

Oh, no you don't.

Blake?

Are you all right?

Yes.

I was just wondering what your
daughters must be up to.

Oh, probably snorting acid
through a cocaine or something.

Yeah, cheers, cheers.

You enjoying yourself?

Hello, all right.

Woo, yeah!

I just think pegs should be
used, even for dry clothes.

I love this jacket.

What's your name?

Right, good.

Where are you going?
- I'm going for a walk.

No, no, carry on.

Do you think it would be
all right

if Blake stayed the night?
- Yes, of course.

I shall be quiet
and discreet.

I'll be gone as
soon as it's light, I'm just--

I'm afraid of the dark, so I
can't walk home now.

I told you it
would be all right.

I'm going to have
a shower.

And so Blake ended up staying
the night, which is all right.

We have plenty of room.

She sort of came alive
around him.

A bit-- A part of her that
she hadn't sort of brought out

and shown anybody for a while
came out and played.

Blake?

Hello?

Oh.

Tom's given me that
for you to sleep in.

I hope that's all right.

And let me just check that
Tom has changed your bed.

Night-night, Boy.

All right?
- Yes, yes.

Did you give him
the dog chews?

What dog shoes?

Not dog shoes, dog chews.

No.

I gave him one
after his dinner.

That's how he knows
when to go to sleep.

I don't think
I have dreams anymore.

Or they're all quite
pedestrian.

I had a dream about ham
sandwiches and broadband

on Tuesday.

They were connected
in some way,

the sandwich
and the broadband;

the speed of it and how much
of the sandwich I was eating.

I used to have
really good ones.

I had a thought
the other day.

Would it be better to have
a really godawful,

soul-shattering nightmare,
where you're just--

your whole
head's on fire

and your heart's going
like an epileptic mouse

and you're
shivering and shaking,

and ooh,
just a horrible one,

and then have the relief of
waking up and it's gone?

Or would you prefer to have the
best dream in the world, ever?

And I don't mean sexually
necessarily,

although I know that's what
you're thinking I'm thinking,

not that there would be
anything wrong with that,

but I was just wondering
whether it would be better

to see all that

and then have the...

disappointment
of waking up to this,

whatever it is this is.

Or would I prefer to have
the nightmare,

wake up, and shed it

and see that this is
actually all right?

That this is not so bad.

I did go--

I did go to watercoloring
for a while.

Tom sent me one of his
pictures as an apology.

I mean,
what is that saying?

That's not saying
sorry to me.

Is it you?

But you know the thing
with me is,

I just feel that when
you get really good

at doing something,
what's the point?

What way up does it go?

I don't know.

Where are you going?

I'm going to make a cup
of hot water and milk

and to eat a banana.

A banana?

Bananas give you energy.

No, they help you sleep.

A banana?

Yes, a banana.

A banana?

Yes, a banana, a banana.

Bananas give you
energy for a run.

Don't eat a banana
to go to sleep.

You might as well have
a glucozade.

They calm you down.

It's to do with
serotonin.

I read it
in a supplement.

It's a breakfast fruit.

It's sheer lunacy to have
a banana at this hour.

And he was looking
through photographs,

which was a bit odd
actually,

and at that point
I did start to wonder--

I was a little bit uncomfortable
about that, I suppose.

It just seems impossible,

looking at all of you
in those photos.

It's like
somebody made you up.

♪ Sitting on the toilet
having a wee

♪ In the middle of the night

♪ Having a wee

♪ Sitting like a lady
having a wee

♪ So nobody can
hear me having a wee

I guess it's okay to say now
that I wasn't in a position

with my marriage to want to feel
jealous towards anybody.

If anybody wanted to
spend time with my wife,

that was fine with me.

You know, not because I disliked
her but because, you know,

if she could find some pleasure
somewhere else then, you know,

good luck to her.

No note.

Just vanished.

But then one morning
in the middle of winter,

he went down
to that lake,

and it was solid.

Frozen edge to edge,
overnight.

And something told him that was
the lake's way of telling him

that she'd gone,
that she was dead.

In the lake.

That was the lake mourning.

Sheltering her from the terrors
of the world, where it's quiet.

I think it was my hairdresser
told me that story,

when I mentioned
that I liked to fish there.

I think I know what you're
asking me,

and no, I don't think
he was suffering from

clinical depression.

I think he was sad because he
was talking about sad things

and when sad things happen,
sane people cry.

Ah, ah, ah!

What's going on here?

Did you do
the dishwasher?

Yes.

Don't put this knife
in the dishwasher.

Please.

I have said
a thousand times.

Too many bananas perhaps,
putting you in a banana?

Twat off!

Why is everything
so difficult?

Fish it out
with a teaspoon.

The dog is shitting in
your lovely garden.

Shall I put some music on?

Why?

We don't have any music.

The girls took all
the music with them.

I'm going to go
and look for some music.

We can have a dance.

We certainly cannot
have a dance.

The whole point of dancing
is that it's beautiful.

I've lost the dog again.

So what?

He's not here.

He's not in
the front garden?

Why would he be in
the front garden?

Tom!

Tom, I tried!

I was too late!

I thought he was playing!

Oh!

The Earth turns round to hide me
from the moon

and then turns more to
shield me from the day.

The morning gasps and mourns
the afternoon,

it begs the Earth to
whisk my face away.

My first thought was,
he's drowned my dog.

But then I stopped
thinking that.

Sorry, I forgot my keys.

Oh, hello.

I've got some bad news.

What?

I'm sorry.

What?
- Don't keep saying "what."

I'm showing you
his corpse!

So this is where I,
um, buried Boy

when I got him
back from the police.

This is where
I re-buried him.

Um, and then this is Bertie, who
is a cat that I got after

I moved and he-- he died.

And then, in fact, through here,
we've got Thomas,

who is a cat that a neighbor
had, and I looked after him

when the
neighbor got too, too old,

looked after him,

and he died as well, so I just
sort of--

I just seem to be here
to see them through.

What do you mean a fit?

I didn't see it happen.

I was on the phone
to you.

But I could sense it,
that something was wrong.

It's no good sensing,
is it?

Sorry, I didn't
mean to interrupt.

Looks rather better on you
than it does on me.

Yes, it's very comfortable.

Like wearing
a soft home.

Thanks again, Blake.

Please, no,
it's my fault.

I thought I was witnessing
some kind of euphoria

and he was thrashing
for dear life.

I'll make some tea
for everybody.

Oh no, don't worry,
I'll do it.

What sort of tea
would you like?

I don't know why you're acting
as though there's a choice.

We just have tea, normal tea.
- Normal tea is lovely,
thank you.

Perhaps we should
put him in the fridge?

No, not you.

I'm not putting our dead dog
in the fridge.

Dinner's in the fridge.
- We should tell the girls
anyway.

Yes, we should.

I'm just going to go
to the gent's.

Sophie?

Can I tell you something?

Boy wanted to die
this morning.

It really did look
like he was dancing.

And the birds, like a frenzy
of angels ushering him away.

A halo of bats.

With all respect,
I have to say,

it really was
kind of beautiful.

And I did my best,
I really did.

But I think the fates
had already decided it was

his time to go.

Blake, I really appreciate your
efforts this morning, excuse me.

But I have to say,
dogs do not commit suicide.

Tom...

I mean, what was there for him
to be upset about?

He had a nice bed, all
the food that he could eat,

lovely woods to walk in,
dedicated owners.

No, no, I didn't mean--
- What a fucking shame.

What a fucking shame
that he's dead!

And it's weird, like,
since we moved out, obviously,

um, Mum and Dad, sort of,
you know, at least they had Boy

to sort of, not keep them
together but,

you know, at least they
had Boy sort of in common.

They both loved Boy,
they both took care of Boy

and for him to go was obviously
quite a big deal for them,

so I think we were there as much
for them as, you know, for--

You know, for us.

Yes, of course
I'm proud of them.

Of course I am, yeah,

everybody's proud of their
families.

Yeah, I'm very
proud of my family.

We're just, um...

You know, we're just rearranged,
that's all.

We're redistributed,
we're not--

We're not a broken home.

Are you awake?

Yo, Mum.

Jess?

No, it's Edward.
- Who?

Why did you say
"Mum," then?

Sorry, I thought you were
someone called "Mum"...

I see--
Is Jess there?

I'm not the fuck-up,
your majesty!

I'm not the one who needs
attention all day...

No, 'cause I know someone
called "The Uncle,"

so I thought it might
be a similar thing.
- Sorry, is Jess there?

I'll find her.

... fucking mental bullshit.
- I don't want you
to live here!

I don't want you to
want me to live here!

It's your mom.

He's-- He's eaten
in my house.

And he talked to the press.

So now he's got 10,000 quid
and I have no privacy.

I thought what he did
was just rude, actually.

He told them that--

Some version of events that
happened

from his point of view.

Mum and Dad would look for
someone to blame,

of course they would.

Nothing's ever their fault,
so Tim's an easy target,

He told-- He told them that
Blake had died in the house

and that we had explained that
we had buried him in the woods

because that was
what he wanted.

Which is all true, but actually,
just, now you say it.

I just thought people would
be more understanding.

Really.

That's quite naive,
isn't it?

I think they just presumed that
I must have said something
to the press

because I didn't feature so
heavily in the coverage but, um,

that's probably because it's--

it's catchier just to say
"The Thompson Family Murder,"

than, you know, "The Thompson
Family Murder

and this other guy."

Who is this?

You know, it's not--
You'd have to explain it.

You just say "The Thompson
Family Murder,"

then you sell a
paper, you know?

Okay.

No, no, Tim can drive us,
it's okay.

Yep, don't worry,
we'll see you in a bit.

Bye.

I've sent a fax.

Why?

To let them know.

I've just phoned them.

Okay, well, then
they'll know either way.

What did you write?

We went home
quite a bit,

which always had some
sense of hope to it

that it wouldn't be awful, but
it pretty much always was.

I don't know why
we didn't learn.

No.

This obviously wasn't
any exception.

I mean, we knew it
would be awful anyway

because the dog
had died but,

it was quite bad that we
brought Tim into it, really.

Yeah, I don't know why we
actually let him take us home,

knowing that it was going to be
probably worse than usual

and allowing
one of our friends

to see this strange
family at work.

Ummm...

Yeah.

The girls are on their way.

When you're kind of
fundamentally insecure,

you see positives in

other people in a way that
you are unable to see

in yourself, and I guess they
just became symbols of beauty

and wealth
and just being sorted and

knowing what they were doing
and I guess, in retrospect,

I can see that they were just
the same as me,

and in many ways--

in many ways not perfect
human beings,

but who is
a perfect human being?

Perhaps I should leave?

This is a family affair.

No, no, stay.

Tim's coming.

He's just a friend, if that
makes you feel more comfortable.

Well, I--
I would like to stay.

To pay my respects.
- Good.

That'd be nice.

See you later.

Is that possible?

Both?
- Both the girls, yeah.

Is that funny?

Yes.

He sort of had a--

sort of an affection for
both of us, it seemed.

Can you hear how
pretentious you sound?

Why does that sound
pretentious?

I was in love with
two people at the same time.

I mean, if you want a
threesome, have a threesome.

I don't want to have
a threesome.
- Why?

And I think that was a bit
embarrassing for him as well,

and for us and we just
sort of drifted apart,

but there's no
hard feelings, I don't think.

You know, it was just a stupid,
confused, kind of teenage,

almost...
- You're going to die!

Well, eventually, yes,
it doesn't mean that--

So before that-- before that,
have a threesome.

In the same way as,
"Oh, do you want some cake?"

"Well, I don't know."

"You're going to die,
have a cake!"

Tim.
- Tim.

You, Graham.

That's fun, isn't it?
That's a fun night out.

In.

I mean, you're deranged when
you talk about love.

Love is just a silly word
for not having a clue

and believing you
might have a clue

by not having a clue with
somebody else.

I think that's just
your opinion.

It's all opinion.

You just have to grab things
sometimes and go,

"Oh yes,
that sounds about right.

I'll have some cake."

Tim?

It's just there
on the right.
- Yeah.

Sorry, I just have to say
something before we go in.

What, now?

I think so, yeah.

Um...

What?
- Well, listen,
I know the phrase is--

I know the phrase is meaningless
and everything if--

If you say it
out loud...

What?
- Well, I... I love you.

Both of you.

As a pair or...?
- I don't know, sorry.

I didn't mean
anything by that.

Just block it out
of your head.

You know, um,
it would be--

Like, if you were insane,
like that would be fine,

that would
be fun for me.

This I don't know what
to do with.

It's quite difficult for me
to deal with somebody...

who's an idiot.

Hello.

Hi.

Hello.
- Hi.

Hello.

Hello, Tim.

Dad.

Hiya.
- Hi.

Hi, Mum.
- Hi.

Do you want a hand with
those bags, Tim?

I'm all right, thank you.

I thought we could do
Boy first.

First before what?
- I don't know, tea.

Where is he?

Who's that?

Oh, that's Blake.

He's the one who tried
to save him.

So what are we
doing then?

Well, I thought just
a simple burial,

say a few words,
let him rest in peace.

I mean, there's no need to
cremate him, is there?

Dad.
- What?

That's not funny.

It wasn't supposed to be funny.

Jess, have you told--
- I'm going outside.

I'm sorry for your loss.
- Yes.

He seemed... quite nice.

Just a bit--

I don't know, just a bit
disconnected maybe.

It just didn't
really make sense.

Yeah, I mean,
why was he there, yeah.

They hadn't mentioned that
he was...

that there was going
to be someone else there.

And we'd obviously gone
back home to bury Boy

and then Mum just said that he
was the one that found him.

What a shame.

Such a little fighter.

Tom?
- What?

Is that the best place?

All right.

First of all, well done,
everybody,

and thank you very much.

And I'm so sorry, it's a hell of
a time for your back to go.

Sophie, do you want
to say some words?

Why do I have to say
some words?

Or Jess, maybe you could play
something on the fiddle?

Can't we just put him to rest
without making a big song

and dance about it?

All right, fine.

And you're completely happy with
the situation of the hole now?

It's not too late.
- Yes, it's fine.

Right, pass him over.

Just-- All right.

All right, I got him.

Okay, I've gotcha,
I've gotcha.

I've-- I've gotcha.

We're gathered here
in remembrance of Boy.

Do we want to put
the dirt on first?

Should we all do the dirt?

Shall I--
Shall I start?

Or Tim?

You're the guest,
would you like--

No?

Well look, I'll go.

Shall I just--
- Just do it.

Just do it, yes.

Anybody want a go?

It's not darts, Tom,
it's a fucking funeral.

All right, okay.

This isn't right.

We should go to the woods.

That's where he'd
be freest.

He was always
happiest in the woods.

We should take him
to the woods.

I think that's
a lovely idea.

Should we--
- Oh, yes.

Shall I take him?
- Yes.

Oh, watch out.

Shall I fill the hole up?

Oh...

Yeah.

Yeah.

So, here we are again,
ladies and gentlemen.

Dad.
- What?

Just...
- What?

What are we doing?

Why don't we just have
a minute's silence

and we can all pay
our respects like that.

All right, good idea.

I'll time, shall I?
- Thank you.

No, don't worry,
I'll do it.

Well, I can time.
- Yes, Jess time, yes.

Okay?
- No, actually, don't worry.

No, I can do it.
- Who's got the best watch?

I can manage timing
a minute.

I'm halfway there now,
you ready?

Yes.

From now.
- No, not yet.

Don't do silence yet.
- Tom...

You won't feel the benefit.

Will you stop being such
a phenomenal twat

and do it
properly, please?

All right, there's no need
to take that tone.
- From now.

I shouldn't have stayed.

I should have just gone.

I shouldn't have stayed.

Blake?

I suppose that now we're
looking at that

as maybe more of a possibility
after everything that happened,

but at the time
it certainly, you know,

was just really sad and he
genuinely seemed like he wanted

to be at Boy's funeral.

I think if he had killed him,
he would have said.

If he'd killed my dog, I suppose
I'd have a motive to kill him,

although it seems like a bit of
an overreaction, I have to say.

No, I didn't think it was
suspicious.

He was...

He was upset.

He was--
Blake was upset.

Blake was more upset almost
than we were.

The trouble with
bigging your daughters up

is everyone thinks you're
trying to marry them off

or pimp them out
or something.

But I'm partial, you know,
I'm a dad, it's natural.

Katie, for instance,
she's so pretty,

everyone thinks
she's a bit...

But actually,
she's very caring.

Did you know when
she was little,

she wanted to be a doctor?

Or a vet.

Who was he?
Where has he gone?

Why was he here?

Why is everyone being
so weird about it?

Why is no one
talking about it?

And why is Tim being
so weird?

What's Dad doing now?

I'm going to place the Thompson
family now on this chair.

I'd like you, Graham,
to talk to them,

to tell them how you feel,

how you felt about them
in the past.

So sorry, am I talking to them
one at a time

or are they small?

We've only got four cups.

Are you coming out?

I'd imagine the sisters there,
just sort of perched,

and then the--
and then the husband and wife.

If you can, I mean try.

Let's not put up a wall
between you and this

small version of
the Thompson family.

The one with the blueberries
on it is blueberry.

And the other one--
two are cheesecake

and I don't know what this is,
a sort of flanny...

I would start off
obviously by saying--

Don't start.
- Hi.

Not by saying, say it.
- Hi.

They say hi back.

In unison.

What do you say?
- How is it going?

Everything's going fine.

What would you like
to say to us?

What are you up to?

Well, they're all
up to various--

I'm sorry that--
I'm sorry that--

Because they're
divorced now.

I don't know why your
mum's not coming out.

She's doing the
washing up, I think.

Did you offer to help
with the washing up?

Um, I did, but she said--

No, no, sorry, not you,
I didn't mean you, Tim.

I feel no guilt or shame
that I don't know you...

What are you doing?
- ...anymore.

What are you doing?

I'm talking to the tiny
Thompsons

like you fucking
asked me to.

Yeah, and it's insane,
isn't it?

Yes, it is insane
and I'm doing it

because you fucking
put them there.

What an idiot you are.

Look at you,
you're talking to a chair.

I am talking to a chair because
you put the chair there

and lined up the fucking--

Who am I?
Who am I?

You're supposed to be
fucking helping me!

I'm just a person!
- You fucking bring a chair
in here,

shrink the
Thompsons down, put--
- I'm just a person!

You have to sort of
balance it.

So, woof.

Get today...

Big...

I thought it was lovely,
actually.

I thought it
was really lovely.

What's your news?

What sort of news?

Well, I don't know,
what's-- what's--

You wake up and life
happens, doesn't it?

Yeah.

It's fine.

You know, I think probably
most parents spend their time

worrying about,
you know, their children

coming home and telling them
something really,

that they weren't
expecting, and oh my God,

how're we going to cope with
this, but frankly if either of

them came home
and said something that

surprised me, I'd just
be grateful,

because it seems like a long
process, this process of

not getting on
with your life.

Yeah well, Mum didn't know
what she wanted to do

when she was my age.

Well actually, she did, but it
just didn't happen for her.

What was that?

Poet.

She was a poet.

She was bloody good.

Actually,
I'll tell you what.

Come with me, Tim, a sec.

Can you just--

Just see if Mum's
all right?

Where are you going?

I only found these the other
day, boxfuls of them.

So here.

Bring them in--
Bring them in here.

When we were in love
back in the Stone Age,

she used to write me
things all the time

and I always
felt a bit inadequate

because I didn't know
how to reply,

so I just used
to buy her stuff,

you know, like a flower or a
piece of cake or a bicycle...

Do you write poetry?

No, I don't write--
Because some of these...

You know, I'm just thinking you
are a connected guy, after all.

You are a sort of connected
kind of guy.

And--
- Sorry, what do you mean?

I was just thinking you could
show these to someone

and perhaps
get them published.

Because some of them are
really, really good.

Where's a short one?

Okay.

"You had my love
and that's enough.

When we are dead,
it will be said

you were in love
and I was too,

and that, my dear,
will have to do."

You see, I'd not
read that before,

but it is lovely,
isn't it?

And there's literally
hundreds of them.

Maybe it's just that
I know what it means.

What I was thinking was that
when we go through again,

you can tell her
how much you like them.

I think that would really
cheer her up.

Okay, yes.

Shall I--

Shall I start reading them
then or...?

Perhaps you could read a couple
and then if she asks you,

you know, you could say--

The ones that I like.
- That you've read.

What's this?
- It's a knife.

Just checking
I wasn't going mad.
- Why would you be going mad?

Well, just because this knife
was with the forks again.

She wanted to
throw them all away.

Don't you think
that's sad?

Knives are the total opposite
of forks.

What is less like
a knife than a fork?

A bowl?

That's not a poem,
that's just a bill.

At least I think--
I think it was.

What does it mean though?

What does it represent?

A knife.
- No, that's what it is.

Why are they all
on the floor?

Um, I dropped them.

All that exists is distraction
from the fact

that you want to die.

Let's go in and make her
feel really good.

When you don't want to fuck
anymore because you don't have

a fuck to give, well then,
clearly, by extension,

it is impossible to
give a fuck about anything.

Mum!

You don't give a fuck
about the house.

You don't give
a fuck about the garden.

You don't give a fuck
about the--
Do you give a fuck about us?

I asked you
to throw those away.

You wanted to recycle them,
so here they are, recycled.

Throw them away.
- Why?

Because that's a box
of misery, Tom.

To you.

It's about you.

It's not a nice thing.

It's not a good thing to have
in the house, all right?

That's not how it reads.

Tim really likes them.
- I really like your poems.

He's going to help
get them published.

No one wants a compendium of
suicide notes, do they?

They are not--

They're not suicide notes,
they're poems.

They're love poems.

No, I will not just go.

Why does your mother
have to be

such a bloody
attention seeker again?
- Don't argue, please.

Attention seeker?
- Yes.

How dare you?

The children are home.

We've got a house guest.

We could be having a nice day,
but you insist on ruining

everything with your bloody
depressive morbid nonsense!

Don't argue, please.
- Oh, just leave me alone!

Leave you alone?
- Don't argue!

What is the point
of you?

What purpose
do you serve?

I keep you alive,
excuse me.

What does that mean?
I pay...

Oh, I pay for this,
I pay for--

The gas, I pay for
the food in your stomach,

the clothes on your back.
- You inherited half of it,
you pathetic man.

If it weren't for
the children--

If it weren't for
the children, what, Sophie?

If it wasn't for the children,
what would you do exactly?
- Shut up!

And what does this
have to do with what I said

in the first place?

Because it certainly has
nothing to do with what today

should be all about.

Which is Boy's death!

I'm not listening to you.

I pay for all that gunk
you put on your legs

to get the hair off.

Is this the way you want him
to remember us?

Vicious-minded...
- God's sake.

Oh, yes, very good,
dramatic exit.

No sense of priorities at all,
you stupid man.

Why is everything
still such a mess here?

If you imagine that all of the
colors in the world represent

each of the infinite
emotions, right?

So, think of the primary
colors of-- What are they?

Red and yellow and blue as
representing, I don't know,

happy and sad and scared
or something.

You can mix those colors
together and you can get an

infinite number of
combinations,

but if you mix them all together
at once then you get pure white,

and that is what people think
of as God or love.

It doesn't matter,
it depends who you are.

That's what I don't
get anymore.

That's why I'm here.
- You've squandered your
canister of dreams!

Can I explain to you what
happens when you mix

all the colors
in the world?

You get a sort of grey-y
browny mush.

Also, and this is
very important.

All feelings, true, false,
positive, negative,

they can all be subsumed
into one category: passion.

And most people think that's
a wonderful thing.

"Oh, passion,
I like passion."

Passion comes from the Greek
word "paskho,"

which means "I suffer."

All feelings are suffering.

Life is suffering.

You are suffering because
you are alive.

I think what happened
sort of helped the breakup,

because it sort of had been
coming for quite a long time

and I think it sort of
helped make it happen.

It was rather like dealing
with a kind of--

with an aggrieved child,
I suppose really.

We actually dealt with the
divorce in a very adult way.

It was very awkward.

She was fantastically
reasonable and...

It was a nightmare.

We just worked through it
like a project and...

I actually wanted to
go to mediation about it

and get some-- Because it was
just hopeless.

Trying to speak to him
is like...

Well, funnily enough,
I say child,

but it's actually like trying
to communicate with a dog.

Shall we just wait
for this plane?

You can only get across very
basic needs and commands.

You can't make him understand
any kind of emotional subtlety

or complexity.

So it ended up being very
difficult and acrimonious and--

And actually in the end, it
worked out in his favor.

I know that Mum feels
like Dad ended up

with more than
his fair share.

I mean, Dad ended up with more
than his fair share.

Yeah, he did,
yeah, he did.

End up with way more than
his fair share.

Yes?

Tom bloody Thompson?

Look at this!

Last time I saw you, you were
very tiny on my chair.

I'm a friend of Graham's.

Oh, Graham.

Yeah.

How is Graham?

I should--

It was nice to see you.
- Thank you.

I'm sorry.

Could you put some
sad music on?

Yes.

Oh, that's very good.

That's perfect.

... But Jess...

Complicated.

Creative.

When you've got
a lot of problems,

everyone thinks you're
just flaky...

but it also gives
you a lot of courage.

I love that you see that.

There was a time Sophie
used to ask me,

do poets write love,
or do lovers live poetry?

And I--

Well, I don't know what
the right answer is.

But the fact is,
the reality is

that when love actually
happens to you,

nothing as glorious as that
has ever been written about.

So the question is
ridiculous.

Lovers live love.

And it's so real and visceral
that it's obvious

it's going to last forever

and then, just as obviously,
it fades.

It's as if our love
has its own mortality.

Love dies just like
everything else does.

It's just a part of life.

It's no less
beautiful for that.

"They're not suicide notes,
they're poems.

Love poems."

"Is this how you
want him to remember us?"

You get to a point
in your life,

where you've done pretty much
everything you've been asked to

and it's like we're still
infants, you know, still--

still showing mother.

Look, this picture I did.

Look, my Lego ship.

Look at this life
I made.

Yes, well done.

Now go away and make
another one.

Make a better one.

You all right?

Yeah.

I'm sorry we're
always fighting.

Oh, I'm a murderer!

Oh, I'm going
to kill you!
- What, are you zooming in?

Oh, I'm going to kill you
like I did the other guy.

Do I look some
sort of freak?

Ready for your death.

Ah!

... With too much makeup on.

Yeah, you should be afraid.

Yeah, off you go,
before I kill you.

Piss off!

Give that to--

Put that where
Tim was sitting.
- Yep.

Shall I put this
on the table?

That's not glass, is it?
- No.

Sophie, this does smell
fantastic.

That's rather
a large one.

I'll have the large one.
- There you go.

Do you want me to pour--
Shall I pour the wine?

Yes, why don't you?

Tim?
- Yes?

Yeah, here, sit.

I found some candles.

They're lovely.

I had to use the ones
out the bathroom,

but that's all right,
isn't it?

With the picture,
it's very--
- Mum?

That's Boy's--
That's his shrine.

We can add to it,
I suppose.

We'll probably find...

bits of Boy
memorabilia under sofas

and behind cushions
for years.

Is that all right
for you, Jess?

Yeah, that's great,
thanks.

Katie, do you want wine?
- Yeah.

I don't have a glass.

Oh, I'm so sorry,
let me get you a glass.

Hooray.

Cheers.

Cheers.
- Cheers.

Well done, everybody.

When he arrived at our house,
he made it clear...

He made it clear that he was

in the last moments
of his life and...

He told us where
he wanted to be buried.

I'll get it.

... eating.

I'm sorry to disturb you
again, Sophie.

I wondered if you'd mind
my coming in and joining you

for dinner-- You don't
have to feed me anything.

I just want to be with you.

Of course, come in.

I'm sorry to barge in
on you all like this,

I know it's
a family occasion.

Blake,
it's good to see you.

Come in, come in
and sit down.

Are you all right?

Oh, yes, yes.

I just--

Sorry.

Jess, get another plate
from the kitchen.

No, no, no, no,
I'll be--

I should be gone in...

Five minutes?

Yes.

You're such a beautiful family
and I wanted to be with people.

The story is a man lost his wife
in the pond

because she disappeared
and when it was frozen,

it was obvious it couldn't be
anywhere else

because we walked there
together when it was working.

It was frozen.

It was clear.

And the pace of a falling leaf
was enough to tell you,

wasn't it?

If you remember, the summer
would never end.

And we used to stop--

We had to stop every few yards
just to kiss each other

and stroke each other

and see each other just--
just to confirm.

And I was so scared that the
world was playing a trick on me,

that the world was
conning me,

because nobody has the right to
feel that wonderful.

I suppose that's--
That's why--

The-- the birds.

They're always there--
in patterns.

She had a terrible pain
in her leg, see,

so I'm convinced and
I know I sound like a madman,

but I'm convinced that if you
bury me there...

She came back to me.

As Boy.

See?

And I know it and I'm not
normally...

But sometimes these things
just become very clear,

because she disappeared.

So.

So where--

Where else?

Who?

See, that's...

So my-- my one request is that
you bury me there with Boy

because I don't want to be
on my own when I'm dead.

"Before I die,
I'd like to play a prince,

a noble prince like princes
in the plays...

who fights and shouts
and dances like a god...

whose face is mired by dirt
that will be seen

in those untold,
unsensed dimension new,

where I surrender all my
worldly faults."

"No longer am I
scared to be confused,

revered, remembered, forgotten
and abused."

So--

Sorry.
- Shh.

"I am," by John Clare.

I am: yet what I am
none cares or knows.

My friends forsake me
like a memory lost;

I am the self-consumer
of my woes.

They rise and vanish
in oblivious host,

like shades in love and death's
oblivion lost;

And yet I am.

And live with shadows tossed

into the nothingness
of scorn and noise,

into the living sea
of waking dreams,

where there is neither sense of
life nor joys,

but the vast shipwreck
of my life's esteems;

And e'en the dearest--

That I loved the best,
are strange--

Nay, rather
stranger than the rest.

I long for scenes where
man has never trod;

A place where woman
never smiled or wept;

There to abide with
my creator, God,

And sleep as I in
childhood sweetly slept:

Untroubling and untroubled
where I lie;

The grass below--

above the vaulted sky.

Well, that is what happened.

That is what happened.

I can see how people
would think it's weird.

We didn't let him
die or anything.

We didn't know that
that was going to happen.

None of us could have predicted
that it was all going to end up

as public as it did,

that it was going to end up
in-- in court.

I could have performed a
citizen's arrest for suicide,

but I would have been arresting
a dead person.

So what do you do when
you're sitting there

with a human being asking you
something like that?

Do you go against it?

In the moment, it felt that the
most important thing to do was

to do what Blake wanted.

To at least give him the end
that he'd asked us for that

clearly meant so much to him.

I was surprised
at why I did it.

In retrospect I think,
how stupid...

you know,
knowing how people react.

What an idiot...

But it's probably the most
beautiful thing I've ever done

in my life.

Pondó_blogger here with poem
number 49.

"You had my love
and that's enough.

When we are dead,
it will be said,

you were in love
and I was, too,

and that, my dear,
will have to do."

Ill be back tomorrow with poem
number 50.

Thanks for watching.

Over and out.