Original subtitles

(singing) Well I tried to tell you so

But I guess you didn't know

As a sadder story goes

Baby now I got the flow

You lied to me

All those times I said that I loved you

You lied to me

Yes I tried

Return of the mac, it is

Return of the mac, come on

Return of the mac, once again

Return of, here I go!

Thank you, thank you.

We are gonna take a quick break and we'll be back in five.

Oh, she's got a necklace on her shoulder 'cause she's not got a dress on.

Not that you give a shit.

Bunch of rude, self-centered party girls.

The only thing they rate more than themselves is money.

You literally just described yourself.

Swivel, pretty boy.

Don't you just adore my little jazzington troupe?

Do they dance?

The tall, pretty boy does. Just for me.

Here's ten pounds. Tell the gangly one I'll have a dance.

Darling, be a sweetie?

I beg your pardon, sir.

What is this, Stringfellows?

Dance!

Dance! Dance! Dance! Dance! Dance!

Kill me.

Kill me now.

- Boo!

We are a jazz quartet in the golden era of jazz, and what are we doing?

Oh, would you like a lap dance while I play my trumpet?

Mate, chill, it was just jokes.

Jazz is not jokes, alright?

It's moody guys in smoky bars, deep in pain.

Playing because they need to, not for free rent and tiny eggs.

Bruv, do you know what kind of egg this is?

- It's a quail egg. - It's a quail egg.

- I don't even know what a quail is. - It's a bird.

- Is it a bird? - Yes.

Maybe some kind of fish, or reptile?

Like I said, it's a bird.

I don't know.

No one knows because they don't exist in our time.

They do.

How can you not love living like a prince, bruv?

I never thought this moment would come, but I agree with Nick.

Thank you!

There's gotta be a way we can keep all this free shit and servants

without having to play for that gaggle of rich skanks.

Okay, that's really not what I said.

Darlings! Ralph's sent a letter from the Algerian desert.

'Dearest twin sister.' That's me.

'I hate it here, I can't escape, I wish I were dead.'

Oh, that's it. Hardly worth the postage, silly sausage.

Ah! For the love of his life, who broke his heart.

Not my fault he overheard exactly what I thought of him.

Do oo want to know what I think of oo, my little slice of pumpernickel?

I think you're a darling little poochy-poo.

Clever boy!

No pooks, stay with your chums.

Mummy's busy preparing a spandanglous Egyptian-themed party.

You must come and play some of your yumptious jazz, jazz, jazz!

Maybe we will, maybe we're busy.

Sweetpea, I absolutely think you will play

or I might rather wonder why you're here.

'Darling Lauren.'

Can we not go on this guilt trip right now, please?

'I enclose a likeness to keep by your bedside.'

'Life is short in the desert.'

'I shall probably be trampled to death by a camel soon,

so you may as well have all my money.'

Shut up, what? Oh my God, how much is that?

So that's-

Money, money, money, money!

Argh! Langley!

Yes, sir.

You okay?

Sir.

Great.

Great, great, great.

I can take it from here.

You're still there, aren't you?

- I thought sir might enjoy a glass of milk after his morning evacuation.

Right, it's just that I find it a bit difficult to-,

to drop the kids off while someone's listening.

Not to worry, sir, I've heard it all before.

(humming)

(singing) Return of the mac

Girl, you lied to me

Didn't know you read music.

I'm terribly sorry, sir, I was dusting. I wasn't-,

Oh, no, no, it's fine.

Great voice, by the way. I know one when I hear it.

I'm a musician.

I know, sir.

So, like, what's your bag?

Jazz? Classical? Drum and bass?

That joke was more for me than you.

Opera, sir.

Opera!

My mother loved to sing.

She sent me for lessons, dared to dream I might be a singer one day.

What are we without dreams?

- Erm-, - We're drones, Langley.

'Every day you wait is another day you won't get back.'

Do you know who said that?

Sir?

Gandhi, I think.

I don't know, I read it on a meme.

My point is that you and I are not so different.

Two men, one dream.

You know what?

I'm gonna have a word with Victoria.

Just explain that you've got this talent and you just need an opportunity to shine.

No, thank you, sir.

No, no, I will. I'll talk to her.

- If it's all the same, I'd rather-, - Langley, I insist.

It's the least I can do.

No!

I said no, sir.

Wow, Lauren, you look strong.

Thanks.

I am loving how much you're hating this.

Oh yeah, that's it.

Pick on me, and overlook the grown man dressed in a leather nappy.

I've been telling the girls how teeth-shatteringly strong you are.

I'm no stranger to a Virgin Active.

I told you, he's all muscle. Everywhere!

You must pass him on when you're finished.

Alright?

What?

No, nothing.

If you're happy being her performing poodle.

Look at them.

They're laughing at us. You know that, right?

No, no, they're laughing because every time Langley turns away,

they throw a grape at him and then he looks back,

pretending he didn't know who did it.

It's actually quite funny.

They're bitches, Horace.

That's what comes of being born into money.

They look down on people like us because we use buses

and think that Wall's Viennetta is a luxury dessert.

It is a luxury dessert.

I know, right?

Hold that.

You alright?

Oh, Laurentia!

Woof woof! Ow ow owww!

(laughter)

Yeah, laugh it up.

We'll see who's laughing when the Blitz happens and your houses are bombed to shit.

Oh, isn't she too much?

Oh dearheart, I would invite you to join but we're playing Monte Carlo stakes.

50 guinea minimum, no cheques, chits, kidneys or IOUs.

Well, that's me out, then.

I guess I'll just shuffle back to my slum and eat a potato.

Oh, wait, wait!

Who're these guys?

Hello!

Why didn't you say you were rich?

We could have been friends this whole time!

Hooray!

Place your bets, ladies.

Faites vos jeux.

- Ready!

Rien ne va plus, no further bets.

Black ten.

You're shitting me!

Oh my God!

Oh my God!

High five, bitches!

Just put your hand up.

High five!

Let's be best of friends forever!

Yeah, yeah!

What we doing here, Horace?

I mean, is this it?

Oh, you horror! You spewed on my shoe!

Langers, get it off.

I can feel it seeping in.

Hurry, you clumsy booby.

Oh, for goodness' sake.

Oi! Do you wanna have some respect?

Is it talking to me?

Do you think this guy's got nothing better going on

than cleaning up after a bunch of inbreds?

Well, no.

Right. Well, FYI, Langley could have been a singer.

Who's a singer?

Ol' Lang Lang.

Silly, darling. He's my butler.

What if he's not just a butler?

What if he's got dreams?

And in those dreams he's singing opera, like a phantom?

But how wonderful!

Langley, sing for us!

Shut the music off, Langley's going to sing.

M'lady, I couldn't possibly.

Sing this minute or I shall have you mummified!

- I-, - Don't be afraid, Langley, you got this.

Show these people that you're more than just a skivvy.

Yes, Langley, sing!

Sing! Sing!

Sing! Sing! Sing!

- Please, m'lady, I- - Sing! Sing! Sing!

(singing) Ave Maria

Maria Gratia plena

Maria Gratia plena

Ave dominus

Dominus tecum

(applause)

Langley, I had no idea.

Twas but a dream, m'lady.

Well, then we shall make it a reality!

You are herewith relieved of your duties forthwith.

M'lady, please, I-,

Hands up who thinks Langley should become a famous singer?

Good luck, dear, dear Langley.

I hear it's almost impossible to succeed in music.

Speaking of which,

play for us!

I'm not your poodle.

- Ohhh!

God, he's so brave.

Imagine giving up everything to fulfill your dreams.

Especially with seven kids to support.

That man's a hero.

Hey, Jase.

Good to see you wearing some clothes.

Do you mind? I'm trying to read this-,

Book?

Yeah, I know.

Are those my spare glasses?

No.

Yes, I'm trying to look less attractive so Victoria doesn't just want me for my body.

Ah, good for you, mate.

She'll definitely treat you with more respect when she sees this.

It's only, erm-,

- Oh, is it? - Yeah.

- Thanks, bruv. - Hey, no worries.

When you're done with those, can you pop the lenses back in, yeah?

Cheers.

Bored!

Who wants to go to Harrods and buy a lion?

Me, me, me!

Oh, hey Nickers.

Want anything picking up from Harrods?

No, I'm good, thanks.

But see if you can pick up some self-respect.

What?

I see you're one of the rich bitches now.

I'd rather you not call them that.

They're actually so darling once you get to know them.

Damn.

Argh!

Horace.

Wait, how did you-,

Are you okay?

Yes, sir.

Cool.

Wait, why are you calling me sir?

Sir?

Okay.

I need some quiet toilet time, but when I'm done,

we all need to sit down and take a good look at ourselves, especially you.

Because, I mean, this is all wrong.

Very good, sir.

Oh, erm, do you know where I can find-,

Thank you.

(groaning)

Good morning, 'sir'.

Hey!

Langley, it's you!

I thought it was pigeons.

So, all set? Ready to seize the day?

They're my children. Their mother died last year.

Course.

Well, maybe you can use the grief to channel into your music.

Ah, is that my phone? I'm gonna-,

Goodbye, empty pointless life.

Whoa, whoa, whoa! What you doing?

I've lost everything.

Not everything!

Alright, you've still got your kids!

They can chip in, sweep some chimneys and that.

I mean, not the ones in wheelchairs.

They're all in wheelchairs.

You've ruined my life!

Er, sorry, can you not shout at me? I'm the one supporting your dreams.

(yelling)

Shit! Okay, if you love being a skivvy so much,

maybe we can ask Victoria for your job back.

Really?

Well, apparently it's all my fault, so yes.

Maybe put some pants on first, yeah?

Aren't they just too much?

That's real pearls and real ermine trim.

Unbearable! Were they pocket-wrenchingly expensive?

Darling, friendship is priceless.

What are 'rich birches'?

Bitches.

Wait, what?

That's supposed to be a T, man. They've spelt bitches wrong!

Burn 'em, Cunningham.

Miss?

I'll send to Japan for more.

Oh, you are awful!

Didn't I tell you she's awful?

Awful! I can hardly bear her.

Here it is. Finally come to give me my dance?

I've come about Langley.

Who?

Oh, him. Is he a star yet?

Since yesterday?

No, no, he's not.

So I was wondering if you could give him his job back?

I don't need a butler,

and if I did need a butler, I'd hardly want one that widdles on the floor.

Lang Lang dear, try not to hit the Persian.

- Cunningham? - On it, m'lady.

Sir.

Sir?

Sir.

Sir.

We tried.

Now, I don't want to point fingers,

but I think we may have lost her when one of us started pissing on the carpet.

This is my job.

Listen, Langley.

It's not gonna be easy out there.

And I know it feels like I don't know you because I don't know your first name.

- Albert. - Hi, Nick.

But what I do know is that you're an incredible musician, just like me.

And when people knock us down we get back up, because there's a flame that burns within us

and the hungrier we are, the brighter it burns, and-,

You're still pissing a little bit, aren't you?

Come with me!

Let's burn to the top together!

Go with him, Nick.

It's different, though, isn't it, because I've got my band to think about.

But best of luck to you, yeah?

I believe in you.

There you go.

Aw.

Langley'll be alright, right?

No, you fucked him.

Good evening.

Baby bear, what are you wearing?

Take it all off at once.

Off, off, off, off!

No.

Oooh!

Isn't he just too much?

Now, I've been telling Ernestine what a tongue-tinglingly good kisser you are.

Okay, that's just it, because I know how to do other things, not just with my body.

Like what?

Like count backwards from twenty.

Go on then.

Twenty.

- Yeah? - Don't rush me.

Darling, Ernestine has her mouth open.

Why don't you just show her what a good kisser you are?

- Nineteen. - Jason, stop, this is painful.

Look, I'm not your exotic parrot!

I'm a full man, I've got bare stuff going on.

You just wanna show me off because I'm black and sexy as fuck.

Oh no, my poppeteen.

I treat all my boys like this, don't I?

She does.

Though you are by far the most delicious of her lapdogs.

What, you're saying you make all your men dress up as slaves?

Darlington, I would far prefer that you treat me like your naughty, naughty slave

but I didn't think that was your sort of thing.

That could be my sort of thing.

Do you want it to be my sort of thing?

Excuse us, ladies.

The safe word is 'jambalaya'.

- Eighteen. - Very good!

Now, who wants a seriously high-stakes game of snap?

Me!

Count me in, only I'm clean out of cash so I'll have to owe you.

Oh!

Really, darling? Not a sou?

No.

Oh.

What? Is that it?

- I thought we were friends. - Monte Carlo stakes, miss.

Rich bitch motherfu-

(singing) Let me tell you about my brown-eyed girl

Let me tell you 'bout my brown-eyed girl

So she's about yay high

With African curls

Let me tell you 'bout my brown-eyed girl.

Tell 'em, boys

Well if I ever knew about my girl-,

Cunningham!

You're singing!

Twas but a dream, m'lady.

Well, I am as cursed as a mummy.

Why oh why must all my butlers be so fabulously talented?

No more butlers for me.

(plate smashes)

You're fired.

(doorbell rings)

Hey, hey, no.

She's right.

You're better than this.

Someone else will get the door.

Really?

Hey!

Langley, right?

Mr Wolton, sir.

I shan't be long, my car's waiting.

But I just had to come by to say thank you.

For what?

For teaching me to reach for the stars.

You were right.

You have to hit rock bottom before you can soar to the dizzying heights of fame.

'Course, three of my children did starve to death,

but I'm a singer now, people love my voice!

Great.

Guys, Langley's a star.

Hey Lang Lang, congrats.

To think I might have wasted my talent in this house,

the flame dying a little inside every day.

Yeah, to think.

So what is it, like, pub gigs?

Passing around a pint pot for tips?

Ha ha! Funny.

No, I'm headlining the concert halls of Europe, the Colonies and North America.

(car horn sounds)

Oh, must dash.

When I come back, I should love you all to come and see one of my shows.

You are my inspiration, after all.

Goodbye and thanks again, Nick!

Sure.

Seventeen.