All language subtitles for in the name of the father 1993

Hiya.

In the name of whiskey

In the name of song

You didn't look back

You didn't belong

In the name of reason

In the name of hope

In the name of religion

In the name of dope

In the name of freedom

You drifted away

To see the sun shining

On someone else's day

In the name of United

And the BBC

In the name Georgie Best

And LSD

In the name of a father

And his wife, the spirit

You said you did not

They said you did it

In the name of justice

In the name of fun

In the name of the Father

In the name of the Son

Hello, hello. Good.

I never said thank you
for taking up our case.

I never thought I'd trust an English
person again, especially a lawyer.

Anyhow, I'll be as brief
and accurate as I can...

with names, dates and places;
anything that might help in our defense.

To explain how I happened to be in England
in 1974 at the time of the bombing,

I'd better take you back to Northern
Ireland, where I come from.

Belfast in the early '70s was total chaos.

It was strange to see
soldiers on the street...

terrified of the civilian population,

any one of whom could be an I.R.A. gunman.

I was just a petty thief
stealing scrap metal.

In Belfast, that was
a dangerous occupation.

Get down, Gerry, for fuck sake.

Tommo!

The I.R.A. had already
given me three warnings,

and when a British patrol mistook me for
a gunman, that got me into real trouble.

What do you think? Trying to fucking shoot us.

- There's a sniper! He's up there!
- Where?

- I can't get a bead on him.
- Shoot him before he fucking kills us!

Fucking bastards!

All right, hurry up
and tell Mr. Kelly, love.

Two suspects proceeding back west...

Mr. Kelly!

Bastards!

We're going to move the guns.
You go and move the gear.

Right. Everyone out, now! Come on!

Get out of the fucking way.
The Brits is after us!

The Brits is after us!

- The Brits are after us! Gerry!
- In here, in here!

Come on, come on. This way, lads.

Go! Go!

Go on, Gerry!

Looks like they're
coming out of everywhere.

- Riot, riot, riot.
- They're right in front of us.

- Who is it? Grab him.
- It's Conlon.

It's your brother! Your brother Gerry!

Oh, my god!

Fucking English bastards!

They've started a riot to cover the sniper.

If we can isolate him,
we can grab him. Let's go, lads.

Let's go, let's go,
let's go, let's go. Move it!

Get that child out of here now!

Move that child!

Shoot that fucking gas now!

Come and fucking get us now, you bastards!

Let him go, you bastards!

Fucking bitch!

Yo, Gerry, I've got a friend
who wants to talk to you.

- Oh, fuck sake.
- We can do this the easy way
or the hard way, all right?

Let's be smart. Come on.

They're taking your brother away!

Where are you going, love?

- We weren't robbing no houses.
- Don't fuck with me.

- Suddenly you're a good boy?
Have you been robbing houses?
- We weren't robbing houses.

Search him. Did you get away all right?

- Aye. Those two.
- Who was it? Those two?

- That isn't mine. It isn't.
- Peter?

Shoot the bastards!
They're always robbing our houses!

Fuck you!

Daddy, Daddy, the I.R.A. has our Gerry.

Go on, show me.

Yo, give him that.

Right, Tommo, lad.

Tommo, get their trousers down.
I fucking warned you, Danny.

Peter, we didn't do nothing, honestly.

- Give you a break?
- What are we supposed to have done?

This is what I'm going to give you.
Now get your trousers down.

You just ran into a house where we had all
our gear. We've almost lost that gear.

- I was just trying to get away
from the Brits.
- But you were stealing again.

- You were stealing lead. Shut up!
- They were shooting at us.

- Get the strides down now.
- Why?

'Cause you'll get cloth in the wound
and lose your leg, that's why.

Peter, give us a few slaps.
You don't have to shoot us.

- For fuck sake.
- Huh. Fucking Tarzan.

Look at the balls on him!

Jesus Christ! Peter! Peter!

They-They're only young.
Give them a chance.

We were just trying
to scare some sense into them.

He was stealing lead again. He ran through
one of our houses and started all this shit.

Did you start all this?

Yeah, he'll never survive in this town.
Never.

This is the last time. You two blow!
And Danny, it's the last time.

- The same for you, Conlon.
- Pull up your trousers. Come back here.

- We've never had a thief in our family.
- We've never had nothing.

- Will you get a job?
- We can't get jobs. You know we can't get jobs.

- I have a job.
- You want me to work as a bookie's clerk?

- I want you to have some respect.
- Aye, respect for who?

For yourself.

We're getting you out of here.

He'll do no growing up in England,
Guiseppe. No family life there.

Oh, give over, Ma.

I'm going to miss the boat. What's that?

- Sausages for your Aunt Annie.
- Jesus Christ, Ma!

- Here you are, son.
- Here, let me do that.

All right, I'm ready. Where are you going?

- I'll walk with you.
- Do you not trust me to get on the boat?

I'm sure I'll be back
when I'm a millionaire, Gran.

Good luck. God bless.

- Cheerio, Gerry.
- Behave yourself, Ann.

- Cheerio, Gerry.
- Bye, Bridie.

He's gone now forever.

I'll be surprised if he lasts a month.

Did I ever tell you the time I jumped ship?

Jumped overboard about
200 yards out to sea;

swam back to this godforsaken place.

Why did you swim back?

There was a woman involved.

Why?

It was when I was healthy,
before you were born.

What was her name?

Aye, you know her name. You know
your own mother's name. Sarah.

Sarah Maguire she was.

Then she had the misfortune
to change it to Conlon.

Boarding all passengers.

All second-class passengers boarding now.

Boarding all passengers.
All second-class passengers...

boarding now.

Go and live. Go and live, son.

That's the best advice I can give you.

Remember... honest money goes further.

Honest money goes further.

A bird in the hand
is worth two in the bush.

Never look a gift horse in the mouth.

He had a clich� for every occasion.

I'll give you a call.

Right, son.

I ran up the gangplank to
get away from him,

and then I suddenly felt bad about it.

I decided to turn back to call him
Guiseppe for the first time in my life.

When I turned around,
he had already walked away.

I just called after him.

Good-bye, Da!

Then I met my old schoolmate, Paul Hill.

Little did I know that after meeting
him my life would change forever.

You're under arrest.

Fuck sake, Gerry! Still a head case.

James Bond, license to kill.

- You're a nervous wreck.
What's the matter with you?
- I'm glad to get out of Belfast.

Wherever you going?

- I'm going to London. What about you?
- The same.

I need a drink.

Aye, I'm skint. I'll let you buy me one.

I arrived in London on the 26th of June.

My mother had given me
the address of my Aunt Annie,

but I had an invitation
to a hippie commune...

from my old friend, Paddy Armstrong.

- Jesus, Gerry, we've been
walking around for hours.
- It's only that big on the map.

Yeah, but it's a map, Gerry.
London's a big place, you know.

What I was really
looking for was free love... and dope.

I think it's this way.

Paddy?

- Yeah, what is it?
- We're looking for Paddy.

- Paddy who?
- Paddy from Belfast. Paddy Armstrong.

Paddy! There's some people here to see ya!

- Who is it?
- Some Irish boys.

- Jesus! Gerry Conlon.
- Hey, what about you, Paddy?

Fuck sake. Thought you was
the drug squad. Come on in.

There you go.

Welcome to Xanadu.

Hi.

Jesus fucking wept.

Neat, isn't it?

Deptford Jim. Paul Hill.

- Right.
- Gerry Conlon from home.

Before you can enter the circle,
you have to have the rite of passage.

Open your mouth.

I enjoyed that.

They can't stay. There's not enough room.

Jim! Our rule: no property,
no law... just love.

All right, let's vote on it. If you
want Gerry and... What's your name?

- Paul.
- No.

We're going to call you... "Saddest Moon."

- Fuck off.
- Saddest Moon, all right?

If you want Gerry and Saddest Moon
to stay, raise your hands.

Four, five, six...

- Put your hand up, Paddy.
- All right.

- Eight.
- Looks like we're staying then.

All right.

What shall we call you?

You can call me "Wild One."

Wait, hold on.

Come on. Get off, all right?
Come on, Saffron.

- Gerry, Gerry, Gerry, Gerry.
- They have dead pig in here.

Just some sausages.

We're all vegetarians here.

I'm a vegetarian. We're both vegetarians.

I was just taking them sausages
to me Auntie Annie's.

I have to be around there now.
I'll be back in a few minutes.

All right? Be back in a few minutes.

- Pinky.
- And Perky.

Is she related to the
Royal Family or something?

Aye, she's fifth in line to the throne.

Ferguson's sausages, the only good thing
that came out of that godforsaken place.

Would you like some more?

- No, I'm fine. Thanks.
- We better make tracks.

You sure you won't stay?

You're very kind, but we need a bit
of space. We're forming a band and that.

Aye, a rock band.

Where are you staying?

- The address, you mean?
- Uh-huh.

- Fillmore.
- F-Fillmore.

Fillimore Road. Fillimore Road.
Uh, it's number 60... something.

The number dropped off the door.

What do you mean, the number
dropped off the door?

Well, will you let me have it
when you find out what it is?

- Aye.
- And would you phone your mother?

Aye. There's only one problem.

- Hmm?
- It doesn't have a phone.

- Hello, Marian. Any problems?
- No.

- Is it all there?
- Yeah.

Okay. We're in business.

Watch the cracks. Watch the cracks.

- Their skirts are covering the cracks.
- He's cheating.

- I'm a referee!
- He's cheating.

Whack!

Yeah! Whoo!

- That wasn't too far away, was it?
- Is that a bomb, Paddy?

It's getting more like home.

Hello? Hold on, hold on.

Guiseppe. Guiseppe. Long distance call.

- What?
- Long distance call.

- Hello?
- Go ahead.

- Hey, Da. Aye, it's Gerry speaking.
- Ask him for the money.

- Son. I'm fine.
- Aye, how are ya doing?

- It's been six weeks
since you've been in touch.
- Sorry about that.

It's just your ma's been worried,
you know. You still going to Mass?

- Aye, every Sunday. Like clockwork.
- Good.

- Are you working? Good.
- Aye, I have a couple of things going here.

Ah, good. And are you safe?

- How do you mean?
- From all the bombs.

Aye, you could just hear it
in the distance like, uh...

Sorry about that.

-Are you stuck? Are you short of cash?
-How do you mean, Da?

Uh, no. No, I'm flush at the moment.

No problem. No, I have plenty of money.

All right. And, Gerry, keep in touch.

Aye. All right. Bye-bye, Da.

All right, son. Bye. I'll tell your ma...

Bye.

Sorry about that.

We've enough for chips.

- Sorry, we'd only enough money
for two chips.
- Are you all right?

- What?
- There's bombs everywhere.
People have been hurt.

There they are. It's the Irish. Bringing
all their troubles over here again.

Aye, it's all right when it happens
over in Belfast. You fucking prick!

I've seen people killed
in front of my fucking eyes!

- You stupid fucking prick!
- He's not fucking worth it.

- Go home! Fuck you!
- I'm getting out of here.

- Are you coming, Paddy?
- Where are you going to sleep?

Ah, no problem. We'll sleep
in the park or something.

- I'll see you soon, sweetheart.
- Take care.

- Mind your fucking manners!
- Prick.

Troops have entered
the Ardoyne area of West Belfast...

following the collapse of the provisional
I.R.A. cease-fire over the weekend.

Yeah, I'm watching it.

Civilians have been evacuated, and there
are reports of casualties in many areas.

- Both sides are blaming
each other for the collapse....
- Okay, I'll take care of it.

- of the cease-fire which lasted
just a couple of weeks.
- That's it. 8:00 tonight.

No warning.

That's my place.
Yous are sitting there too long.

"C.B." Charlie Burke. That's me.

I carved my initials with this penknife.

No problem, Charlie.
No problem. Whatever you say.

Closing the park. Park closing now.

- Easy with the feet there, Charlie.
Fuck sake.
- It's a big bench.

You're Irish too, aren't you?

Uh-huh.

I come over here when I was about your age.

Did you ever think of going home, Charlie?

Nah, I should. There's nothing
for me over there now.

We're closing the park.

Could you, could you
lend us a few schillings?

- I was going to ask you the same.
- Oh, well.

- Gerry, we've no money left.
- It's all I have.

- Well, now, like I wouldn't
like to take all your money.
- Catch you again, Charlie.

- Come on, come on. It's not even 8:00 yet.
- All right, all right.

We must have just said good night
to Charlie Burke when the bomb went off.

All we were concerned about was where
we were going to sleep that night.

We'd no money in our pockets.

We hadn't even the bus fare to Guildford,
even if we'd known where it was.

No fucking way I'm going back to Belfast.

I tell you that.

- Hey, blondie.
- Hey, sexy.

You dropped something.

Fuck off, paddy. She's out of your league.

Let's see her.

It's her fucking keys. I'm going in.

We should give them back, Gerry.
Put them through the letter box.

Put the keys back in the letter box, Gerry.

Jesus Christ.

Come on, Paul.

Jesus Christ, how much money is there?

I got �700 from the hooker's apartment.

I did feel a little bit guilty about that.

We spent that night in a hotel.

The next day we went and
bought the same clothes.

The same trousers, same jackets.
Even the same shoes.

Baaa.

Has that coat got fleas?

Who are those two gorgeous
women in the kitchen?

- Gerard?
- Did you miss me, Bridie?

Look at Gerry. He's, he's a hippie.

- Daddy, look at the money.
- Do you want it?

Yes, Gerry, I want to be in your gang.
I want to be in your gang.

Take it easy. Hey, calm it down.

It's my money! It's mine!

- Calm down. Stop it.
- It's my money. He gave it to me!

Stop that!

And they were always
talking about the troubles, were they?

Yeah. Especially Paul Hill.

He was always talking about Belfast,
the I.R.A., all that stuff.

Look, all I'm saying is this,

They had a lot of money,
and Conlon went back to Belfast.

- Come along, into the car.
- What's going on?

- That was a bloody disgrace,
them shooting you.
- Aye.

- Did it hurt you, Danny?
- Ah, it wasn't too bad.

The bullet bounced off the knee
and come out the other side.

Five people are dead
and 75 seriously injured...

as a result of the I.R.A.'s
bomb attack on a Guildford pub.

Parliament has passed
the Prevention of Terrorism Act,

which allows terrorist suspects to be held
in police custody for up to seven days.

Seven days. Geez.

It's the same here.
Seven days. No difference.

...inside London and arrested 19 suspects.

Gerry, there's your shoes.

I later spoke to Commander Robert Dixon...

- X's up.
- of the anti-terrorist squad
about those arrests.

Some of them may not deserve it.
We shall use these powers...

as selectively as possible.

- Get up out of bed,
you dirty, murdering bastard!
- Hands above your head!

I don't know what the fuck yous
are looking for, mister, but I'm not it.

Gerry, your coat. He's done nothing.

- Inside, sir.
- He's not political. I have
a right to speak to my son.

- Da! Da!
- Keep calm, Gerry.

Get back in. Get back inside.

It's all right.
It's all right. Come on now.

- Where are we going?
- You'll find out soon enough.

- Where'd he get this money?
- I don't know.

They have no right to take him to England.

I don't have a fucking clue
what this is about, so I don't.

I've done nothing wrong.

I've done nothing wrong.

When can I go back to Belfast?

The next time you see Belfast they'll
be flying day trips to the moon.

I always wanted to be an astronaut.

What are you charging me with?

- You're being held under
the Prevention of Terrorism Act.
- What?

We can hold you for seven days
and seven nights without charging you.

Since when was I a fucking terrorist?

Remember that, Gerry? Hmm? Remember that?

And that. You proud of that?

- And that.
- What are you showing me these for?

No marks! Don't mark him! Don't mark him!

- Are you proud of that?
- Huh?

Look at that young, pretty girl there!

- Now look at her!
- You're out of your fucking minds!

- Are you?
- You're out of your fucking minds!

The children know there's something
terrible going on, and you're not making
it easier.

I haven't the strength for this.

If he killed innocent people,
I haven't the strength for it.

I know that child. I carried that child.

If you're not going to believe
in him, I will.

- You think he's innocent?
- When your son walked through
that door looking like a clown,

do you think he had murder in his eyes?

- It's a surprise.
- Shut up. Shut up!

When will Daddy be back?

He'll be back in a couple of days.

Why did they put Gerry in jail?

It's a mistake.

I'm on my way over to bring him back home.

Why are you getting narky again?

Eh? Are we touching a sore spot?

Name all the places you stayed
while you were in England.

- I told you about 100 times.
- Then tell us again!

I stayed at the squat most of the time.

I was a couple of nights
at my Auntie Annie's,

and one night at the hotel
after I robbed the money.

Male. Late forties.

Who taught you how to make the bomb, Gerry?

I never made any bombs.

Did Annie make the bomb, Gerry?

Is Annie Marian, Gerry?

- Is Annie Marian?
- Annie who?

- Annie Maguire.
- My Aunt Annie?

Oh, aye, Annie made the bomb,
and Mother Teresa planted it.

What was Carole Richardson's
part in this operation?

Are you Marian?

- What?
- Are you Marian?

She had nothing to do with it.

This man comes into my house.
He puts a gun to my head.

He says I done Guildford.

I left Belfast to get away
from people like him.

Show me what you want me to sign.
I have an alibi for that night.

What are you showing me these for?

Gerry told us you did it.

Then he's a fucking liar.

Armstrong drove the car.
Who was the woman in the back?

I don't know.

But you were in the Ford Cortina.

But you were in the red Ford Cortina.

He'll get used to your methods,
and then he'll clam up.

I told you I was... I told you I was in
the Cortina. I told you it was a taxi.

No. The taxi was a Toyota Corolla.

When can I ring home?

- Let's start again. Who's Marian?
- Was it someone Irish?

- Gerry, who is she?
- Why are you getting narky?
Are we touching a sore spot?

- Nothing to do with what, Gerry?
- Talk to me.

You're evading the truth, Gerry.
What was her name?

Two little girls asked me,
"Why was Daddy blown up?"

Who taught you how to make the bomb, Gerry?

Gerry, talk to me.

No.

He'll do what he's told.

Look at him. He's a lying bastard.

He's a fucking comedian, aren't you, Gerry?

Who's Marian? I'm getting fucking
bored with this. Who is Marian?

- I don't know any Marian.
- I'm going to keep on asking until
you give me a fucking answer!

- Who is Marian?
- I don't know.

Yes, you fucking do! Bollocks!
Who is Marian?

We know who Marian is.

Hey.

Are you the man in charge?

- Yes, I am.
- For fuck sake, tell them
to stop hurting me.

I swear to God I...

I know where I was
at the time of the bombings.

I was with a man,
a man called Charlie Burke.

Have you any other alibis?

I have told you before,

I was with Paul Hill most of the day.

All right, come with us.

Tell Gerry Conlon like you said you would.

- Who's this?
- Gerry Conlon.

Have you anything to say to him?

I've cleared my conscience.

I advise you to do the same.

There's his statement.

But... I didn't do this.

I didn't fucking do this!

I didn't... do this.

Please believe me.

What are you doing to me?

They wouldn't hold him
if he hadn't done something.

- Gerry is no angel.
- I know that.

He needs a strong hand.

You're all under arrest.

No, no, don't. Don't hurt the child.

You're all being held under
the Prevention of Terrorism Act.

- Is Hill leading us up the garden path?
- I don't know.

I don't know, I don't know, I don't know.

I can make him confess.

Why don't you have a word in his ear?

You're from the same town.
He'll understand you.

Will you have the bomber?

Our job is to stop the bombing.

I'm going to shoot your Da.

What did you say to me?

Little Bridie will have no daddy.

I'm going to shoot Guiseppe.

- Hey, hey.
- He's threatening to shoot my Da!

He's threatening to kill my Da!

Look at him! Look at him!

Look at him! He's a madman!

I think you're hallucinating.
Nobody's going to harm your father.

Get him back. Get him back.

He threatened to kill my Da.

Nobody's going to kill your father.

- You mad bastard!
- Take it easy, son. Take it easy.

He's not going to harm your father.

Come on, let it all out.

Let it all out, all that hatred.

You hate us, don't you? Hmm?

You hate us enough to bomb and maim.

That is the trouble. You let it all out.

- Come on, boy. Let it all out.
- I don't hate you.

Yes, you do. I can see it in
your face. I can see all that hatred.

So why don't you just let it
off your chest...

before it starts to mess up
with your mind, hmm?

Give me the fucking statement.

For fuck sake, give me the statement.

Give me a fucking pen.

Right, that's my fucking name there.
You can write what you like.

All right, nice and easy. Come on.

- Paul! Paul! What's going on?
- Gerry!

They stuck a fucking gun in my mouth!

So I told them a lot of bullshit!

- What did you give them my
fucking name for?
- I'm sorry!

It's fucking mad! It'll be
laughed out of fucking court!

It'll be laughed out of fucking court!

The four of us were split up.

I was taken to South London Remand Center.

You can check the dates, Gareth.

Kill that fucker!

You fucking son of an Irish punk!

- That Irish bastard!
- Kick him in the ass!

Kick that Irish in his fucking ass!

- What is that?
- Delousing.

- I don't have fucking lice.
I don't want that.
- You have no choice, mate.

You'll never clean
the scum off that garbage.

Okay, Conlon. Go see the room, shall we?

Get his butt kicked in!

Come on, lads, let's move it.

Come on, Mr. Conlon, let's go.

- I don't need delousing.
- No choice. Turn around.

We got your son. Now, let's go, shall we?

- I'll lead you right to him.
- Okay.

- Da! No! Da!
- Is that you, son?

- Da, here!
- Where are you?

What have they done to you?

- Don't you hurt him! Don't hurt my father!
- Son!

- Are you all right, son?
- Don't kill him! Da!

Come on, move along.
Move along. Come on, you.

- Fuck you, I'm going out.
- Shut up, you!

- Shut up!
- On the floor!

Kill him! Kill him!

Oh, what the fuck are you doing here, Da?

I come over to your Aunt Annie's to get you
a lawyer... and they arrested everybody.

What?

- What for, fuck sake?
- Conspiracy to murder.

Oh, no. Oh, fuck sake, no. Please.

Did you do it?

Did you do it, son?

No, I did not!

Of course I fucking didn't
do it, fuck sake!

What are you looking at me like that?

Like what?

Why are you looking at me like that?

- Like what?
- Why do always follow me? Huh?

Why do you always follow me
when I do something wrong?

- Why can't you follow me
when I do something right?
- What are you talking about?

- What am I talking about?
I'm talking about the medal.
- What medal?

What fucking medal? What fucking medal!

The only fucking medal that was
ever in our house. That fucking medal.

The medal I won at football.

And you sat on the sidelines
shouting instructions like you
could only see what I was doing.

You couldn't even fucking play football. And
you could only see what I was doing wrong.

I could never do anything good enough
for you. After the game, you came up
to me and said,

"Gerry, did you foul the ball?"

And I walked away from you, remember?
I walked away into the dressing room.

You followed me in there and said again,
"Gerry, did you foul the ball?"

All the fathers were in there and they were
laughing at you, calling you "Poor Guiseppe."

And I ran out, and I hid, and
I wrote your name on the ground.

Your stupid Guiseppe fucking name. I wrote
it in the dirt and I fucking pissed on it!

I pissed on it!

Because I did foul the ball.
What did it matter? We won.

For once in our lives, we won.
You ruined that medal for me!

I took it to the pawn. They wouldn't
even give me fifty pence for it.

- It's the shock.
- That's when I started to rob
to prove that I was no good.

- Delayed shock.
- Never mind delayed shock.

I've been like this since I was seven.

I remember Mammy said to me,
"Don't upset Guiseppe; he's not well."

Oh, dear Lord. "He's not well, so tiptoe
around the house." Like this, huh?

"Better tiptoe around the house
like that. You know, he's not well."

I got holy communion, I thought I was
eating you alive. Was it my fault
you were never well?

Why did you have to be sick, Guiseppe,
huh? What'd you have to be sick all
your life for?

When that mad bastard out there threatened
to shoot you, I was happy. I swear to God.

Honest to God, I was happy.
I was delighted! You know why?
Because finally it was all over.

It was over! You see?

And then I knew I was bad. I knew I was
bad then, you see, so I started to cry.

I started to tell lies. Same
fucking lies I've been telling
all my gob-shite fucking life.

Huh?

You know what that
means? It means words don't mean anything.

- Stop this.
- Huh? Only this time,
I got everyone into trouble.

But it doesn't matter. 'Cause I'm
no good anyhow. It doesn't matter.

Keep away from me.
You've been following me all your life,
and now here you are in jail.

- You doing this deliberately?
You doing this deliberately?
- No. Stop it!

- Stop it!
- You call that a fucking dig, huh?

Do you call that a fucking dig?
Hit me harder. Hit me fucking harder!

- Stop it. Calm down.
- For once in your fucking life,
hit me like a real father!

Stop it.

Just relax. Just relax!

Just relax! Yeah?

Come on, relax.

That's right.

Just relax. It's okay.

- Da.
- It's not your fault, son, all right?

Everything's going to be all right, son.

It's okay. It's all right.

Visitor for Conlon!

Two on for visit!

- No touching.
- Everybody else was allowed to touch.

I.R.A., closed visits. No contact.

Why are you doing this to us?

- You have your father
locked in prison for murder.
- Speak up, please.

- It's not my fault, Ma.
- Take it easy, Sarah.

I swear to God, I've done nothing wrong.

Why did you sign a confession, son?

He did it to protect me, love.

You have a good son there,
that's all you need to know.

You didn't sign anything
yourself, did you, Guiseppe?

The only thing I said
was I wanted to see you.

Look, they've no statement,
nor evidence against me.

I'll be out and home soon.
Sure, I'm only visiting here myself.

I'll be able to help out
Gerry while I'm in here.

Danny's dead, Gerry.

What?

They found his body on waste ground.

The I.R.A. said he was an incurable thief.

I sent a Mass card from the family.

- Daddy.
- This one will not go to school
since you've been away.

- Hey, you go to school for your mammy.
- Yes, Daddy.

Daddy, when will you be home?

I've pressed
your Sunday suits for the trial.

Make sure and look your best now, son.

But is there nitro or was there not nitro?

Yes, there are... traces of nitro.

But are they all positive?

Well, yes, on six of them.

- Who'd we miss?
- The aunt, Aggie... Annie.

But her rubber glove showed a faint trace.

And the children? The children?

Positive.

Oh, for...

The results may not
be good enough for court.

Your word will be
good enough for the court.

Yes, sir.

Kill the bastards! Kill them!

- Kill them!
- Kill those bastards!

Shoot the bastards!

Call number one.

- Let's go.
- Jesus, it's a nightmare, Guiseppe.

Just stay calm, be on your best behavior
and they'll be behind us soon.

That's it, come on.

We'll be fine.

Yes, we'll be all right.

All... rise.

Sir Michael Hagerty will present
the case on behalf of the Crown.

There are... two series of
charges here, ladies and gentlemen.

The four defendants in front...

are charged with 11 counts in relation
to the explosion of the Guildford pub...

and the murders of five people.

The Crown will show
that these were the bombers.

The seven defendants behind are charged
with the possession of explosives.

They are not charged with murder.
The Crown's case against them is that...

they are a support network
for the bombers, and as such...

- should be considered totally independent.
- Control yourself.

My first witness is inspector Robert Dixon.

I swear by Almighty God that the evidence
I shall give shall be the truth,

the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

Inspector, why do you believe
these four are the bombers?

First Hill, then Conlon,
Armstrong, Richardson...

confessed to the bombing;
they are the I.R.A.'s A.S.U.

Eh, can you explain A.S.U.s for us?

"Active Service Unit."
The elite of the I.R.A.

Those who carry out the
bombings and the shootings.

Very often they are combat veterans with
previous experience with shooting...

at soldiers... and planting explosives.

And the others: Annie Maguire
and her family.

They are the I.R.A.'s support network.
They store their families, friends.

They store the weapons and explosives and
they provide what we call, "safe houses."

Thank you, inspector.

Inspector, these people
were arrested two days...

after the Prevention
of Terrorism Act was introduced.

That's correct.

Can you explain, please, the powers
that this gives to the police?

It permits us to hold suspected terrorists
for a period of up to seven days.

Quite extraordinary powers in a democracy.

Difficult I would've thought for
the police to resist the temptation...

- to deal forcibly with people.
- Objection.

People they suspect are the biggest
bombing campaign on the British mainland...

- since the Second World War.
- Objection. My lord, I really must...

- Get to the point!
- Now, this bombing campaign...

struck deep into the British people's
sense of security.

- The people looked to you
to find those responsible.
- Yes.

You must have been under
the most intense pressure.

That's my job.

Now, all of the defendants claim,

including young Patrick Maguire,
aged just 14.

Patrick, would you stand up, please?

Thank you. All of the defendants claim...

that they were subjected to physical and
mental abuse while under police custody.

They were never harmed in any way.

- He's fucking lying!
They beat the shit out of us!
- Fucking liar!

Silence. Sit them down!

Please believe us! They beat us!

Just be quiet.

Sit them down!

Silence in the court!

Mr. Conlon says...

that you pulled him by the hair
and squeezed his testicles.

I never even spoke to Mr. Conlon.

- I hope you burn in hell, Dixon.
- Silence!

Mr. Hill says the police sat astride him
and put a gun in his mouth.

There was no pressure of any kind.

- You can go and fuck yourself,
you lying fucking bastard!
- Silence! Order!

Inspector, in the case
of the four main defendants,
you have no corroborating evidence.

I have the confessions of four obvious
terrorists. What more do you want?

Well, n-nitroglycerin
is a highly toxic substance.

It's when the substance to be tested...

After a few weeks,
we were bored out of our minds.

Just messed around and that there.

They must have been desperate for evidence.

They produced my Auntie Annie's washing-up
gloves like a rabbit out of a hat.

And then it was my turn to take the stand.

Mr. Conlon. Did you bomb Guildford?

No, I didn't.

The police claim that you were in
Guildford on the night of the bombing.

Can you tell us where you were?

- I was in a park in London.
- Who with?

With Paul Hill sitting there.

You met somebody else
that night, about 8 P.M.

- Aye, I met a man called Charlie Burke.
- And who is he?

Aye, he was just like a, you know, like a,
a fellow homeless guy we met in the park.

Why do you remember this man so clearly?

I remember thinking that if I
didn't get out of London fast,
I was going to end up like him.

- You told this to the police?
- Aye.

- What did they say?
- Aye, they said he didn't exist.

Mr. Conlon, why did you confess
to the Guildford bombing?

They beat me.

And then they threatened to kill my father.

- Will you repeat that please?
- They terrorized me for seven days.

After that, they threatened to
kill my father; I'd have fucking
signed anything after that.

- Excuse my language.
- Thank you.

You expect this jury to believe that
decorated police officers...

would risk their career and their
reputation by threatening your father?

I don't expect them to believe
that by the time you finish with
them, but it happens to be truth.

You're an honest man,
aren't you, Mr. Conlon?

I like to think so.

You've told us you remember
this Charlie Burke very well.

Aye.

Do you remember telling the police
anything else about that night?

Let me refresh your memory.
You told inspector Dixon...

that you had committed a robbery
on that night.

Now do you remember?

Aye.

- Who did you rob?
- Robbed a hooker.

- You robbed a prostitute?
- Aye.

And we are expected to believe a man
who claims he stole from a prostitute...

before we would believe
ten police officers who stood here,

on oath, and called you a liar?

That's the truth. You know, I'm...

I'm bound to say I don't find
you very convincing.

Thank you, Mr. Conlon.

Why didn't you tell me that
you'd stole from that woman?

You could have called me.
I would've sent the money.

Are you going to be a thief
and a liar all your life?

Standing up in that witness box.
Making faces to your mates.

Well, at least you told the
truth in there. That'll stand you.

Are you not going to eat that sausage?

No.

They put a gun in my mouth...

and made me confess
to a murder I didn't commit.

So I said I did the big bombing, and named
anybody I knew who was not in the I.R.A.

Not in the I.R.A.?

- Definitely not in the I.R.A.
- Why?

You know why.

I just wanted to show
how ridiculous it all was.

Inspector, the defendant
Conlon presented an alibi.

One Charlie Burke.

Yes, that name did appear in Mr.
Conlon's statement. We investigated it.

We couldn't find any trace
of such a person.

And there was this question
of the robbery of a prostitute.

No robberies were reported
in that area that night.

At the start of this trial
I shook Gerry Conlon's hand.

Subsequently, I was deeply shocked when a
member of the legal profession came to me...

and asked me if I was now
going to wash my hand.

In my long legal career, I cannot remember
a case where emotions have been so charged.

It falls to me now to appeal to you,

the members of the jury,
not to get caught up in this...

tide of mass hysteria.

Inspector Dixon admits there are scores
of inconsistencies in the confessions.

My clients contend that
they were forced to confess...

through brutality and intimidation.

Now, they may be foolish...

petty thieves, even drug abusers,

but they are not the ruthless bombers
who have terrorized Britain for months.

You should find
these young people... not guilty.

- Bollocks!
- Okay, let's go.

- Get your fucking hands off me!
- Move it!

- Move it!
- Hands off!

Hands off!

Ladies and gentlemen.

Like my learned colleague in the defense,

I would caution you not
to be swayed by your emotions.

The four people you see in the front...

are one of the most cunning and
cruel criminal conspiracies...

ever to set foot on English soil.

Now here are the facts of this case:

Inspector Dixon,

a decorated officer of great expertise,
acting on reliable information...

and good detective work,
arrested Paul Hill,

who, guilt-ridden by the shame
of his crime, confessed.

That confession led the police
to the ringleader, Conlon...

and his terrorist family.

His aunt, Annie Maguire,
the experienced bomb maker...

who wore rubber gloves
when handling explosives...

in the kitchen of her home in Harlesden.

She even allowed her children
to handle explosives.

Vincent, aged 16. Patrick, 14,

who did not...
could not know any better.

Guiseppe Conlon, her brother-in-law, the
courier who arrived with more explosives.

Armstrong and his dupe Richardson,
who carried the bomb.

Now, these are the people who, in a panic,
had to dispose of the nitroglycerin.

And that is what sealed their fate.

How do we know this? Because
the truth was on their hands.

It is a story written
in the blood of their victims.

You have seen some of those who survived
their callous disregard for human life.

It is now your duty
to protect society from them.

I am confident that that is
what you will do.

Have you reached a verdict?

Yes, we have, my lord.

- How do you find the defendants?
- Guilty as charged.

Hang the Irish bastards!

Order! Silence!

String them up!

Gerard Patrick Conlon.

Stand up.

I feel it is my duty to wonder aloud...

why you were not charged
with treason to the Crown,

a charge that carries a penalty
of death by hanging.

A sentence I would have had
no difficulty in passing...

in this case.

I sentence you
I sentence you to life imprisonment...

and I instruct that you shall serve...

a minimum of 30 years.

Take him down.

Help me.

Paul Michael Hill.

In my view, your crime is such that life...

shall mean life.

Annie Maguire.
I recommend you serve 14 years!

- What have I done, for Christ's sake?
- Take her down!

- Guiseppe Conlon, 12 years.
- No, my husband's innocent!

- Lord have mercy on you.
- Patrick Joseph Armstrong, 30 years.

Carole Richardson, 30 years.

Our case was so insane that if you made
it up, no one would believe it.

Look, Gareth, I know people say that
I'm a compulsive storyteller,

and nobody believed a word I said
in court, but Charlie Burke did exist.

He's not just a figment of my imagination.

Sorry.

We were shipped off
to Park Royal Prison.

An old Victorian fortress where Britain's
most dangerous criminals were held...

in the maximum security wing.

- Place of birth.
- Belfast.

- Then you're British.
- This is your home
for the rest of your life.

So accept it and get on with it.
Now come this way.

The chief warder, Barker, gave us blue
denim uniforms with yellow stripes.

We were Category "A", the highest security
class along with the rapists and murderers.

My father said we'd fight for
an appeal, but I didn't want
to know about the legal system.

I'm going back to the cell.

Come on, follow me.

Come on, Gerry.

Hey, Ronnie. There's those
Irish bastards, Ronnie.

Irish scum.

My name's Guiseppe Conlon.
I'm an innocent man. So is my son.

- We shouldn't even be in here.
- Get that fucking scum off my floor.

I said knock it off!

- They must know they've made a mistake.
- No they don't.

The proof of our innocence
must be there in the evidence.

We have to fight them to get an appeal.

I'll speak to Father Wilson.

Speak to everybody. We'll write letters
from in here. Start a campaign.

- Have they been treating you all right?
- We're fine. Fine.

Have they, son?

Aye. No problem.

Landing officers
on the two's for exercise.

Forgot the dessert spoons.

There you go.

Mmm.

These chips are not bad.

Now don't you despair, son.

- Never mind about "don't despair."
- What?

I mean, we're innocent,
we can't even go out of the cell.

You're better off being guilty.
At least you get some respect.

Landing officers
on the three's for exercise.

Here, you can have
my chips.

Landing officers
on the three's for exercise.

Gerry, man. Come. You all right?

How you like your new home?

Bombing of pillar box
Kensington High Street.

Bombing of pillar box Talbot Lodge.
Bombing of naval club.

Bombing of Aldershot Railway Station.
Attempted murder of Edward Heath.

Murder of Ross McWhirter.
Possession of firearms,

Balcombe Street, December 6, 1975.

And the Guildford pub bombings.

You have innocent people in jail for that.

Take him out.

He did it.

Where's all the missing pieces?

We eat it up, man.

Before my woman sent it in here, right,

she have it dipped in liquid acid.

L.S.D., man.

We've been dropping the British Empire
for the last six months.

You want to fly? Pick a country.

Fuck sake, don't give me Northern
Ireland. I don't want a bad trip.

Try Nepal, man. Take you to the Himalayas.

See the dragon.

Lights out in 15 minutes, 15 minutes.

Are you praying for the seventh cavalry?

Hail Mary, full of grace,
the Lord is with thee.

Blessed art thou amongst women, and
blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.

Holy Mary, mother of God,
pray for our sinners, now and
at the hour of our death. Amen.

That's not funny, Gerry.

Hail Mary... full of grace...
the Lord is with thee.

Blessed art thou among women, and
blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.

Holy Mary, mother of God,
pray for our sinners, now and
at the hour of our death. Amen.

Hail Mary, full of grace,
the Lord is with thee.

Blessed art thou among women,
and blessed is the fruit...

Are you on drugs?

Look, Da, I'll be older than you are
now when I get out of this place.

If I get out.

Are you listening to me?

I'm not talking to you.

Now who's being childish?

I haven't had a sensible word
out of you for two weeks.

That stuff will kill you.

Sure, I'm dead anyway.

Look, I'm sorry. I'll not take it
again so long as you live.

Are you happy now?

No.

Why not?

I don't want you to take it
whether I live or die.

Jesus Christ.

All right, I'll do nothing
to annoy you in your grave.

Now are you happy?

Is that a promise?

Aye.

Maybe.

Gerry, man. Check out your friend.

He look like the real thing.

Come on.

- Excuse me.
- All right.

Let's have a talk.

We have to eat in our cells.

See ya later.

Gerry. Gerry, come on.

Morning, paddy.

Yes!

Come on!

Yes, man, Gerry!

This one, this one, this one,
14 days solitary! Lock up!

- Lock up!
- He'll be all right.
He'll be back in a couple of days.

- Christ!
- Come on. Come on.

I'm worried about Bridie.

Why?

She's dyed her hair blond.

Well, she's only young.

She's wearing a dog collar.

There's a fella chained to it;
he's got one on too.

Well...

as long as she's happy.

Lunch break.

Yes!

Yes, Gerry, man. That's right,
Gerry's a bad boy!

Put the Englishman
under heavy, heavy manners.

Yes, sir. Go on, boy.
Kick out them clods, yes?

- This is Joe McAndrew. He has
something important to tell you.
- Hello, Mr. Conlon.

I'm watching you.

What is it?

I'm the one who planted
the Guildford bomb, Mr. Conlon.

Did you tell the police that?

Yes, I did.

- But we haven't heard a thing.
- See what he has to say, Da.

Go on.

I told them. They know.
They know the truth.

They can't afford to face it. It's a war.

You're one of its innocent victims.
I'm sorry for your trouble.

Don't be sorry for us. You should
be sorry for the people you killed.

It was a military target. A soldier's pub.

They were innocent people. God's children.

Look, I'll do all I can...
to help you while you're in here.

Well, we don't need your help.

I'd appreciate it if you'd leave us alone.

Whatever you say.

I'll talk to him. Sorry about that.

What was that all about?
You mind your fucking manners.

What? Manners to him? I don't want
any part of him, or his ways.

At least he fights back. Which is more
than you ever did in your life.

- What are you talking about?
- Do you remember Lydon hill?

You used to ride me up
on your bike up Lydon hill.

And then one day you couldn't make it to
the top and I hopped off and looked back.

Your face was all red. Remember that?

Aye.

- It was working in
the paint shed done that to you.
- What?

It was the fumes from working
in the paint shed done that to ya.

Never mind jumping off the
ferry, swimming back to Mammy.

It was the one job a Catholic can get,
and you wouldn't even fight back then.

Go on outside. Play with
your new-found friend.

All I'm saying is that you've
been a victim. It's time
you started to fight back.

- Get out of my sight.
- I'm going.

This is the only way it'll work.
We have no alternatives.

- Well, what are you doing?
- Nothing.

- They didn't do it.
- They all did it.

I'm going back to Belfast.

After the fight, nobody stopped us
going to the yard to exercise.

I felt brilliant.
Joe explained things to me;

how the Brits never left
anywhere without a fight;

how they had to be beaten out of
every country they ever occupied.

How this prison was just
an extension of their system.

Calling for work on three's.

- We had to confront the chief
prison officer, Barker.
- Mr. Smalls.

But to do that, we had to
take care of Ronnie Smalls.

Can I have a word about 54 Halsey Road?

Take a walk.

If anything happens to me, or Gerry,

or any other Irish prisoner,

we'll have 54 Halsey Road
blown to smithereens...

with your family in it.

You threaten my family,
I'll cut your fucking head off.

I don't make threats.

I just carry out orders.
I don't want to hurt your family.

Your trouble is, Joe, you want to
rule the fucking world.

Paddy's all right.

Soon, we were all one happy family.

Again!

- Even Kojak was ready to forgive.
- Live and let live.

- Barker began to panic.
- Pay him a visit.

Told us to take our socks out of
the window. He thought we were
signaling to other prisoners.

We're not signaling.
We're drying our socks out.

- Take the socks out. Mr. Barker.
- Who says?

- That was all the excuse Joe needed.
- Give us two minutes.

- Eh, up and away we went.
- Are you with me?

What's he up to now?

All prison officers to vacate the wing.

All officers vacate the wing!

Oh, they'll damage the whole campaign.

- Look, you do it your way,
and we'll do it ours.
- You can read our demands.

Go back to your cells.

- Blankets!
- For God's sake, put a stop to this.

- You're weakening my position.
- It'll end in violence.

- Good.
- What's good about it?

It's all they understand.

Barker refused to negotiate.

But with the screws gone,
we'd a brief taste of freedom.

Check out Ronnie.

Him swallow half Africa.

I give him about an hour.

We found out later our protest got on TV.

And that's when
the riot squad was ordered in.

Shhh.

Shh. Shh.

We were singled out as the ringleaders.

Now!

Oh, my god. Get me out!

Get down! Get down! Get down!

You just signed
your own death warrant, Barker.

Are you happy now?

And then you arrived, Gareth.

That's the first time I saw you,
under a raining shower of sparks.

It's the first time I'd seen a woman
in five years, other than my mother.

But to me, you were a lawyer first.
And I hated lawyers.

- Do you have a new isolation cell?
- Cartwright.

Barth, Andrew. Bailey, Benjamin. McAndrew.

Sorry. Can you... I can't hear.

O'Brien, John.

Lynch, Bernard. Crisp, Wesley.

Lyon, Richard. Burns, David.

What about Conlon? Sorry. Guiseppe Conlon.

He's on the third floor.

He has difficulty getting down the stairs.

- Well, I'll just have to
go up and see him then.
- Delegation has seen enough.

Rightio, sorry.
Well, I won't be a minute, so I'll
just... Sorry. I just want to...

I won't be... I'll meet you
outside, okay. Sorry.

Sorry, I can't...

- Pulmonary thrombosis.
- Aha.

- You're getting medica... He's getting
proper medication? Are you? Yes?
- Aye.

Uh-huh.

Ger... Son? Gerry?

- That's... Is it Gerry? Uh-huh.
- That's Gerry.

He's had a spot of bother
with lawyers in the past.

He's all yours. Fifteen minutes.

- Thank you.
- Sit down.

You wanted to see me, Gerry?

Why are you giving my father false hope?

Sorry?

He's been up and down these stairs
every couple of weeks to see you.

He hasn't even seen
my mother in six months.

Oh, I hear you're getting on
very well with her, by the way.

Yes. She's a very brave woman.

Aye, you don't know the half of it.

The fucking stairs are killing him.

It's not the stairs that
are killing your father.

- What is it then?
- It's your lack of faith.

Lack of faith? Faith in what?

- In yourself.
- No... I have faith in myself.

Gerry Conlon, lifer, 30-year sentence.

And I know how to survive it, no problem.

At what price?

I'll pay the fucking price,
don't you worry about it.

The price for what?

Aye. You're very good
at the English, aren't you?

You see, I don't understand your language.

"Justice." "Mercy." "Clemency."

I literally don't understand
what those words mean.

I'd like to put in an application
to get all my teeth extracted.

That way I could put my fist
in my mouth and never speak...

another word of fucking English
so long as I live.

Do you see what I'm saying?
Mrs. Peirce is it?

Are you trying to impress me?

Visit's up.

Don't give my father false hope, all right?

Gerry...

You've got to help him!

In prison, you pray for anything to
break the monotony.

A snowstorm is like a present from God.

Whoo!

Hey! Prison officers are not to be hit!

All right, you lot, you've asked for it.

Come along!

After the riot,
my father's health deteriorated badly.

He couldn't make it down
the stairs to enjoy the snow.

I waved up to him, but
he was looking at something else.

All right, you lot!

- My Da always saw the good in people.
- Yes.

He recognized it in you
the minute he saw you, Gareth.

Guv, guv, where you going?
Where's me letters? Guvnor!

Thank you.

I see you've been mentioned
in Congress, Guiseppe.

What's that?

How did you come by that name?

I... An Italian ice cream maker.

Had a shop on the corner
of the street where I was born.

Guiseppe Fusco. My mother fell
in love with the name.

Were they, um,

- You know.
- What?

- Lovers.
- Who?

My mother and the Italian ice cream maker?

Oh, no, God.
Oh, Jesus, no. No, they were not.

No, she just liked the name.

But it made my life hell.

All the other children laughing at ya.

You any kids yourself?

He's talking to Barker now.

Forget it, Joe. He can talk
to whoever he fucking likes.

Two.

Flown the nest now.

Whether Barker was responsible or not...

for bringing in the riot squad,
Joe never forgave him.

Joe was still at war.

And to him, Barker was the enemy.

- Number?
- The name is McAndrew.

Get out. Get out of the way.
Get out of the light!

- You're 149.
- Get out of the light.

- Number?
- Name's Gerry Conlon.

Piss off out the light. Get out the light!

You're 136.

There's someone sitting there.

Move when you're told.

Put it out.

- How's your boy?
- He's good.

You know, he looks more like you every day.

He's smarter than I am.

Three years old,
he can read the funny papers.

There's a hair in the fucking projector!

Yeah, get the fucking hair
out of the projector,

- Will ya?
- Shh.

- Come on, get it out! Get it out!
- Shh!

I want you to arrange
to have a telephone man...

- check out all the calls that
go in and out of here.
- We're going fucking blind, guv.

- I did it already, Pop.
I took care of that.
- You know it could be anyone.

Oh, that's right. I forgot.

- We'll get there, Pop.
- Quiet.

- I can't see a fucking thing.
- Shh.

- You're blocking the shot.
- Shut it.

Now, listen. Whoever comes to you...

with this Barzini meeting...

I knew that Santino was going to
have to go through all this.

And Fredo, well...

Fredo was wrong.

And I never...
I never wanted this for you.

For you!

Get down, mate!
To the floor, mate! Get down!

Come on, mate, get a
blanket! For God's sake, he's burning!

Barker! Move back! Move back, Barker!

Barker, move back! Get in there!
Get the hell in there!

Get it out!

- Stretcher!
- All right, let's turn his head around.

All right, mate. You're with us.

All right. Stretcher!

Gently, mate. All right, up!

- That was a good day's work, McAndrew.
- Come on, move it, men!

- That was a good day's work.
- Get away from me.

Will you not look me in the eye
when I'm speaking to you?

I know how to look at people
without blinking as well.

In all my godforsaken life,
I've never known...

what it was like to want
to kill somebody until now.

Ah, you're a brave man, Joe. A brave man.

Gerard Conlon, back on the threes.

- Stand your ground.
- Hawkins, returning to his cell.

Benjamin Bailey, back to him cell!

David Burns, returning to his cell.

7445, Casey, back to his cell.

6309, Johnston, level three.

Regis, 113, going up to number two.

- Back to your cell now!
- Keep moving.

Barker was maimed for life,

and Joe was sent to another prison.

He's in solitary confinement somewhere.

Blowing Whistle]
We've had no news of him since then.

The new chief screw had the yard painted,

and I was back walking in circles again.

Back to the cells.

Come on. Move.

I'd like to help you out
with the campaign, Da.

If that's all right with you.

Do you mean it?

- Aye.
- Oh, that's great.

Okay, Gerry, what I need from you
is the whole story, your whole story.

In as much detail as you can remember;
every detail you can think of.

And I need you to write it down.
It's really important.

I can't do this.

I can't write this, Da.

Could your son not give you a hand?

- Nah, he's up in his cell writing away.
- Okay.

Okay.

Tape recorder.
You're a good talker. Talk.

The strange thing is...

The strange thing is sometimes
I think he's a little jealous...

of me taking over the campaign
and that there.

Going up and down the stairs
to meet you.

I mean, that's something I never thought
about Guiseppe: that he could be jealous.

Anyway, the main thing is
to get the case reopened...

because I don't know how long
he can survive in here.

I'm tired of this.

Come on, we have to do this.
Come on. You behave yourself.

Get your head down.

When I was a wee lad, I used to wonder
what you were doing under the towel.

Then one day when you and Ma were out,
I got a big bowl of boiling water,

whacked a big drop of Vick
and then put the towel over my head.

I sat there trying to figure out what it
was all about, and nothing was happening.

And then I figured you
must have been drinking it.

So I stuck my tongue in it.
Do you remember that?

How could I forget?

And your tongue...
swelled up like a football.

Had to rush you to the hospital.

First time you'd stopped
talking in your life.

Give us that.

I'll do your chest for you, Da.

Was I always bad, was I?

Not always.

I don't deserve to spend
the rest of my life in here, do I?

All they've done is block out the light.

They can't block out the light in here.

Listen, every night...

I take your mother's hand in mine.

We go out the front door,
into Cyprus Street,

down the Falls Road, up the Antrim Road...

to Cave Hill.

We look back down...

on poor, troubled Belfast.

I've been doing that every night...

for five years now.

As if I never left your mother.

What I remember most
about my childhood is...

holding your hand.

My wee hand in your big hand.

And the smell of tobacco.
I remember that...

I could smell the tobacco
off the palm of your hand.

When I want to feel happy,
I try to remember the smell of tobacco.

Hold my hand.

Oh, Da, get the fuck...

Now, don't go sentimental on me now.

Don't be upset, Da. Look,
I'll hold your hand if you like.

I'm going to die.

Don't be saying that.

I'm scared.

You've no reason to be scared.
Nothing to be scared about.

Don't you be comforting me when I can
see the truth staring me in the face.

I'm scared I'm going to die
here... among strangers.

- You're not fucking dying, all right?
- Can I not say a thing...

without you fucking contradicting me?

I'm scared to leave your mother... behind.

Look, you are not going to die,
all right, Da?

And even if you do, I'm sure
I can look after Ma all right.

You think I'd leave Sarah in your care?

What do you mean?

You haven't the maturity to take
care of yourself, let alone your mother.

I haven't much time between
appointments, Mrs. Peirce.

- How can I help you?
- Thank you.

Um, I'm the solicitor for
the Conlons, Chief Inspector.

Guiseppe Conlon is critically ill,
as you may know.

I've petitioned before the court
for his compassionate parole.

They want your clearance.

That'll be difficult, Mrs. Peirce.

These people have committed
horrific crimes.

Society demands that they serve their time.

But they didn't do it, Chief Inspector.

- Says who?
- Say the real bombers.

They told you they did it, Mr. Dixon.

Gerry Conlon told me
he did it, Mrs. Peirce.

These people are liars.

They're liars for a cause,
that's the worst kind.

But he's dying. Guiseppe's dying.

A lot of people are dying.
It's a dirty war.

Well, I'll see what I can do.

Is this your family, Mr. Dixon?

That's my wife and my son.

You have another appointment.

Yes.

I'll see you again, Mr. Dixon.

Are you all right, Da?

Da?

Are you all right?

Wake up, Da. Da?

Da, can you hear me?
Can you hear me, Guiseppe?

Oh, fuck. Oh, come on, dear God
in heaven, don't do this to me.

Come on, wake up.
Come on, wake up. Wake up, for fuck sake,
come on. Come on! Come on, wake up!

Oh, dear God, thank you.
You're all right, Da.

You're all right. You're all right,
Da. I'm going to get some help.

Number 73! Number 73! Please come
quickly! My father's sick!

Benbay, Guiseppe's taken bad!

Da, Da, put your arms around me.
I'm getting you out of the bed.

Come on, put your arms around me.
That's it. Come on.

It's Conlon! Him not well at all!

- Open the fucking door!
- Him number 73!

- Open the fucking door!
- Guiseppe! Guiseppe!

Fuck, he can't breathe.
He can't fucking breathe!

He can't breathe! Look,
my father's fucking dying!

- He needs oxygen!
- Give him a fucking break!

Open the fucking gate! I'm right here, Da.

- Get him in here!
- What the fuck is going on?

Stay where you are! Stay where you are.

Hammersmith Hospital now.

I want to go with him.
Can I go with him, boss?

I've got to get clearance first.
It's out of my hands.

You're going to be all right, Da!
I'll be with you...

- as soon as I can.
- Take him back to his cell.

Leave him alone,
you bastards! Just let him be!

Stay strong, Gerry! Stay strong, mate!

Keep your chin up, mate!

- We're with you, Gerry!
- Yeah, we're with you all the way, mate!

He's still awake.

Your father passed away an hour ago.

Thank you very much.

I'm sorry.

Guiseppe is dead, man!

They kill Guiseppe!

Gerry, man!

Gerry!

They kill Guiseppe!

Well, I think they ought to take
the word "compassion"...

out of the English dictionary.

They fouled the ball, Gareth.

They fouled the fucking ball,
and they're as guilty as sin.

Believe me, if there's one thing
I know about, it's guilt, you know?

Keep looking them in the eye,
and it's going to reveal itself.

You have to keep up the pressure.

Do what you have to do.

Free the Four! Free the
Four! Free the Four! Free the Four!

Free the Four!
Free the Four!

Those were meant to be here
three weeks ago.

"The Parade of innocence."
What do you think?

Thousand of people
lined the streets of Dublin,

London and Liverpool today
in demonstrations...

demanding the release
of the Guildford Four.

- Questions have been raised
in the House of Commons...
- Say good night to Daddy.

- regarding the safety...
- Good night, Dad.
- Good night, son.

Free the Four! Free the Four!
Free the Four!

Free the Four!
Free the Four!

Mr. Dixon! Excuse me.
Mr. Dixon!

This was a mistake.

Why don't we let her see the files?

What harm could it do?

Mr. Dixon!

Don't you ever get tired
of this sort of thing? What's that?

This is a court order that I be allowed
to see the Guiseppe Conlon case files.

- Good morning.
- There are a few rules to be observed.

Here's a complete list
of the Conlon, Guiseppe case files;

the only files you'll need to see.

I'll go to the file drawer
and bring it out.

You open it in front of me, take a page
at a time, read it and then return it.

Sorry. Is there a problem, Mr. Dixon?

Problem? Not at all, Mrs. Peirce.

Our chief archivist,
Mr. Jenkins, is here to assist you.

If you want to make a photocopy,
I, and I alone, will do it.

- And you use this pen
at all times for any notes.
- Why?

If you deface or alter any
document, we'll be able to trace
it through the ink in this pen.

There are national security issues
involved here, Mrs. Peirce.

We wouldn't want police intelligence files
leaked to the I.R.A. now, would we?

- Conlon, Guiseppe file.
- Yes, sir.

Might as well leave my kit on the bus,
'cause I'm not staying in your jail.

So, our new V.I.P. prisoner.

- Welcome to Scotland.
- I'm an innocent man.
My father was an innocent man.

He died in one of your jails.
There's nothing you can do to hurt me.

- They've moved me to a Scottish
jail to break up my confidence.
- Put him in solitary.

This is a peaceful protest.
I'm not observing prison rules.

- We'll teach you manners.
- Better men than you have tried that already.

Your Honor, I have not seen
my client for two months.

He's been moved to Scotland,
which has seriously impeded
my investigation into his case.

So I'm filing this motion
to gain proper access...

Free the Four!
Free the Four! Free the Four!

Here, thanks a lot then. Good day.
Oh, thanks, thanks, thanks, thanks.

Sorry.

Could you copy that for me, please?

Thank you.

I just want my mother to be happy.

Uhh, I'd like her
to know that...

Guiseppe talked about her
every day of his life.

He missed her terribly.

It's strange to be in a cell
without him.

I can't seem to get his face
out of my mind.

Everywhere I look, I see him.

Strange what time does
when you're in prison.

Like, you can be staring at the wall.

Drip, drip, drip.

It takes an eternity.

And then you blink
and three years have gone by.

I mean, what I'm trying to...

I don't know what the fuck
I'm trying to say.

But I can't forget
what they did to my family.

I just can't forget.

Gerry! Gerry! Gerry!

Gerry, come on, take it easy.

Hang on, Gerry.

Morning.

- Where's Jenkins?
- He telephoned in sick.

I'm afraid you're going to
have to come back tomorrow.

No, no, I can't. I'm in court tomorrow.
There's too much to get through.

- I can't help you.
- Please, look, I've got a court order.

You saw what Mr. Jenkins did.
He just brings me the files.

I take the notes and give them
straight back to you. Please.

- What name is it?
- Conlon.

- All right.
- Thanks. Thank you very much. Cheers.

- What name was that again?
- Conlon.

We've got two Conlon boxes.
Is it Guiseppe Conlon or Gerard Conlon?

Gerard.

Well, that's for starters.

Fuck them! Fuck them!

It's good news, Gerry.

We're talking about a piece of evidence...

that says they knew all along
that they let my father die in prison?

Would you mind telling me
what's good about that, Gareth?

We'll get them in court.

"We'll get them in court"? For fuck
sake, will you catch yourself on?

They've kept us in prison for 15 years.
They can keep us in for another 15.

It's the fucking government, Gareth!

It's the fucking government!
What are they going to say?

"We're sorry about that."

"Made a wee bit of a mistake there,
but you can be on your way now."

What are they going to say?
"Sorry we killed your Da."

"Sorry we fucked your fucking life
to hell." What are they going to say?

Gerry.

I am not putting my mother
through hell again.

Are you afraid of court?

Look, I just don't
want to be humiliated again.

I swear by Almighty God,
that the evidence I shall give...

shall be the truth, the whole truth...

and nothing but the truth.

Mr. Dixon, do you know
these young people...

known as the Guildford Four?

Yes, I do.

Do you know how long
they have spent in jail?

Fifteen years, I believe.

Do you know Annie Maguire...

who served her 14 years without remission?

Do you know her son Vincent
who served five years?

Do you know her son Patrick who served
four? Do you know her husband...

Paddy Maguire who served 12 years?

Carole Richardson was 17
when she went to jail, Mr. Dixon.

Now she is 32.

Do you know Carole Richardson?

- My Lord, what is the point of this?
- Yes, come to the point.

Do you know who this is, Mr. Dixon?

No, I don't.

Well, then would you be so kind
as to read the statement that you...

- took from him on the third
of November, 1974?
- Let's see this statement.

A statement, My Lord, which
vindicates all of these people,

- all these innocent people.
- My Lord, I need to see
a copy of this statement.

Someone, either that man or
his superior or his Superior's superior,

ordered that these people
be used as scapegoats...

- by a nation that was baying for blood...
- Mrs. Peirce!

- My Lord!
- in return for the innocent blood...

- spilled on the streets of Guildford!
- Stop her!

- And, by God, you got your blood, Mr. Dixon!
- This is a political speech!

- You got the blood of Guiseppe
Conlon and Carole Richardson!
- This is outrageous!

- You got 15 years of blood and
sweat and pain from my client...
- Mrs. Peirce, be silent!

- whose only crime was that
he was bloody well Irish,
- Silence in court!

and he was foolish, and he was in
the wrong place at the wrong time!

Mrs. Peirce, I will have you
removed from the court.

And one of your colleagues, My Lord,

who sat where you sit now said,
and I quote, "It is a pity...

"you were not charged
with treason to the Crown,

"a charge that carries a penalty
of death by hanging,

a sentence I would have no difficulty
in passing in this case."

Mrs. Peirce, I'm trying
to read this document.

I will not tell you again to be silent,

or you will be removed from the court.

My Lord, this document brings the entire
British legal system into disrepute.

My Lord, this is new evidence.

It is shocking new evidence.

My Lord, this evidence was not submitted
at the trial that is under appeal.

That, I believe, is the point
Mrs. Peirce is trying to make.

- Proceed, Mrs. Peirce.
- My Lord, I demand a recess.

There will be no demands made in my court.

Stand back.

My Lord, this alibi for Gerry Conlon...

was taken by Mr. Dixon one month
after Gerry Conlon was arrested.

This note was attached to it
when I found it in police files.

It reads, "Not to be shown
to the defence."

I have one question
to ask you, Mr. Dixon.

Why was the alibi for Gerry Conlon,

who was charged with the murder
of five innocent people,

kept from the defense?

- Give us an answer!
- Answer the question!

- Silence!
- It's about time!

Order in the court!

My Lord, I would like
to approach the bench.

- This is most irregular.
- Yes, I'm aware of that.

Very well.

- Mr. Dixon, you may stand down.
- No, no, no, My Lord!

My Lord, this is the man
who should be under arrest!

Be silent, Mrs. Peirce.

- This court is now in recess.
- Guards, get ready.

Look, don't try and make me the fall guy
for the whole British legal establishment.

If I accept this mercy deal...
They have a flipping cheek...

offering me mercy. They should
be begging for mercy themselves.

- You ready, Mr. Conlon?
- Aye. I know the difference
between right and wrong.

- I know.
- The truth has to come out.
They may not want to hear it,

- but there's people outside who'll listen.
- I know, son.

- Just think about it, will you?
Just think about it.
- All right.

Aye, give us three of those.

Silence!

In the matter of Her Majesty
versus Gerard Patrick Conlon,

the case is hereby dismissed.

- My husband died in your prison
an innocent man!
- Come on, Ma!

- I'm going out the front door.
I'll see you outside.
- Come on, Mr. Conlon.

- I'll see you outside.
- Come on, sir. This way. Let's go.

- I'm going out the front door.
- What about Guiseppe Conlon?

Your Honor, he was an innocent man!

Come this way, sir.

- Mr. Conlon, sir, that's not a good idea.
- Use the back, for security reasons.

I'm a free man, and I'm
going out the front door.

- Get back!
- In the matter of Her Majesty...

versus Paul Hill,
the case is hereby dismissed.

Leave me alone! I'm going
out the front door with Gerry!

In the matter of Her Majesty
versus Patrick Armstrong,

the case is hereby dismissed.

In the matter of Her Majesty
versus Carole Richardson,

the case is hereby dismissed.

I'm an innocent man! I spent 15 years
in prison for something I didn't do!

I watched my father die in a British
prison for something he didn't do!

And this government still says he's guilty!

I want to tell them that until
my father is proved innocent,

until all the people involved
in this case are proved innocent,

until the guilty ones
are brought to justice,

I will fight on!

In the name of my father and of the truth!