Original subtitles

(Film reel clicking)

Downloaded from YTS.MX

(Soft piano and strings music)

Official YIFY movies site: YTS.MX

(tense music)

(tense synthesizer music)

(tense synthesizer music continues)

(miners chattering)

- Aw, I can smell ya.

Come on, boys.

(miners chattering)

Right, you dumb prick, you can smell it.

Jesus, you dirty bastard.

- Be cool, fella. Be cool. - Yeah.

(miners chattering)

- Come on, get in there, boys.

I'm fuckin' knackered.

- [Tommy] All right, son.

- Aw, fuck me.

- So another week over to my boy.

Tonight I am gonna get on it.

I am fucking gonna get on it!

(group chuckling) - Yeah.

- Ah, you're not wrong, Will.

I'll join you for a few reps, mate.

(elevator clanging)

Dead man's shift next week.

- Yeah. - Make your most at bonus.

- Bonus? What fuckin' bonus?

We're not near 16,000 ton yet, son.

- Aye, but the new face is nearly ready to breast.

(Will grunts)

Money, money, money.

- Money, money, money.

- [Tommy] Okay, stash your cash, lads.

- Gotta love that. - Stash your cash.

- [Tommy] Do it with money in your pocket.

- Mm-hmm. - Money in your pocket.

- Your rounds tonight, Pete. Come on, son.

- Eh, bad time. - Yes,

it's Pete's round tonight.

(Will grumbling) - Tommy short hands,

deep pockets.

- Was doin' a joke then.

No one's taking fucking notice, though. (grumbling)

(elevator whirring)

Get a (indistinct) though, eh?

A good day to sip some pints, boys.

Smudge, are you buyin' tonight, my son?

- Oh yeah, yeah. - Cheers, mate.

- [Marco] I'll make the change.

(group laughs)

- Be fine, Marco, don't worry.

- That would be tricky.

- Hey, the wives (indistinct), then.

That's why fuckin' Bridget's indoors.

Here we go, boys.

- Yeah. - Here we go.

- Go get a nice shower!

- Hey! - You want a shower?

- Freedom! - Oi.

- Oh, he's slow. - Come on.

(miners chattering)

Come on in. (door rattling)

- What's this rumor I keep hearing

about our illustrious leader

going over to Russia for meetings, then?

- Oh, fuck's sake, Smudge,

you talkin' about that imported coal business from abroad?

- Oh, hearsay, then?

- Well you hear this.

Why would we import coal from abroad when we got, what?

200 years worth down here?

I mean, seriously.

Oh, am I right or am I right?

- Too fuckin' right. - You're right. You're right.

(tense music)

- The shower has got my fuckin' name on it, boys.

Oi, oi, here he is.

All right, Jackie, boy.

- [Jack] You're a fuckin' panda, mate.

- (chuckles) Well, at least I ain't a brown nose weasel

like you, son, who has his hand

up the charge hand's arse. (sniffs)

Now, what I do is real work, son.

I work on the fuckin' rip!

Right, boys?

- Bloody right. - Yeah.

- Bust your ass off all day?

I don't get paid enough for that.

- Oh, let's have a chat, brother.

Because you know what I'll do, don't ya?

I will get a mere clip

and I will attach it to your bollocks.

And if I remember rightly, last time you enjoyed it,

you fuckin' pervert.

- Fuck off.

- Hey, boys, have a bit of that!

Yeah! (laughs)

♪ Oh, shower, here I come ♪

♪ Will's in the shower ♪

Yes!

(water pattering)

(Will sighs) (water pattering)

Fuck me. Fuck me, I'm in it.

(tense music)

Terry. Hi, son.

- Hey, Will.

- Hey, must be great comin' to work

without being covered in shit.

- Well, I've been a miner all my working life,

so it takes a bit of getting used to, to say the least.

- So look, have we got any news on the dispute?

- Well, it does look like there's a bit of trouble ahead.

I can't say too much at the moment,

but it's all over the news today.

You'll find out soon enough.

(tense music continues)

I got a meeting with Jack Collins

and Kim Howells at the weekend and a number of others.

But know this, I guarantee you

I'll be firing my last corners all the way.

You know that, don't ya?

- Terry, you're a miner, just like us,

and you always fuckin' will be.

- Thanks, Will.

I'll see you guys.

- Yeah, yeah, see you.

(disjointed music)

(dramatic rock music)

♪ I was born with a spade in my hand ♪

♪ It was working groovy from a boy to a man ♪

♪ The ditches I dig crisscross this land ♪

♪ Me and my mates doin' more than we can ♪

♪ A-singin' hey, hey, hey, hey ♪

♪ Hey, hey, hey, hey, I'm a workin' man ♪

(engine rumbling)

♪ Keep on up, we keep up with things ♪

♪ But my paycheck is nothin' but a slap in the face ♪

(engine roars)

♪ We're runnin' the race ♪

- Oh Christ. How are ya?

Hello, mate. All right.

♪ I'm a workin' man ♪

(train rattling)

♪ Singin' hey, hey ♪

- Let's listen to the radio.

♪ I'm a workin' man ♪

(radio beeping)

(Will grumbling)

- [Announcer] This is Southeast Radio. Good morning.

Now faced with the loss of 20,000 jobs next June,

will the miners be driven into a nationwide strike?

- Oh for fuck's sake. - Scottish miners have been

- Not again! - called out in support

of the Yorkshire miners from next Monday.

- Fuckin' coal board! - They wrote the miners union

official in Sheffield to declare

their strike official. - Don't know what you're

fuckin' talkin' about.

- But will it? - There's enough coal

down there for the next - We look at that question

- 200 fucking years! - in a minute.

- Come on! - But first a report

from the latest miners confrontation

with the coal board. - I'll fucking hurt you,

you evil bitch!

Thank you!

♪ I'm a workin' man ♪

- Long way from what I got to say to you.

Christ, Christ. Fuck.

(mellow rock music)

(gravel crunching)

(disjointed music)

- Oh, hi, love. (door thuds)

- Yeah, fuckin' knackered.

- Some tea?

- Yeah, cheers, love. Thanks.

You all right?

- Yeah. How about ya?

- [Clay] All right, Dad?

- McHendry, he's late.

- No, he ain't gonna be around today.

- Well, where is he, then?

- I don't know, it's been slow recently.

Not so much demand for wood and coal, I guess.

It has been a warm start to spring, Dad. Jesus.

Anyway, I'll be startin' with house clearances today.

- Fuck's sake, Clay!

Is that what you're doing now?

You're clearing shit out of people's houses?

Come on, son, is that where you're fuckin' at?

No, I'll tell you what this is about, right?

I'll tell you what it's about.

It's about this imported shite stuff

that is undercuttin' manufacturers in this country, right?

'Cause they're bastards! Fuck!

- (sighs) Here we go again.

- No, no, listen, Bridge.

You gotta listen to this, all right? And you!

The Yorkshire pits are gonna take industrial action, right?

And that gobshite Arthur Scargill

with his combover bobby chart

and he's back on his soapbox again!

And I'll tell you what this means for us,

for us the cave miners, yeah?

It means that we are gonna follow suit, okay?

And what's gonna happen, huh? What's gonna happen?

We're fucked. We're fucked.

All right? Who's gonna pay for the mortgage?

How are we gonna pay for the mortgage?

How are we gonna pay for the fuckin' car?

We are totally fuckin' screwed!

What... - Come on.

- I'm off.

- All right. See ya, see ya.

- Clay, I... - See ya later.

Come on. Sit down.

- I just, fuckin' hell.

- Drink your tea.

- Yeah. Yeah, yeah. - See about it later.

All right? - Yeah.

- [Bridget] And get yourself to bed, all right?

- Oh, fuck, fuck. - Gonna be all right, okay?

(somber music)

(dramatic rock music)

(fart squeaking)

- Oh, you filthy bastard!

Fuck off!

- (laughing) Oh, I have been holding onto that all day, man.

- That spews.

- (laughs) Yeah, it does.

Hey, you all right for tonight, then, yeah?

- Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Oh, it's what keeps me going, mate.

Just losing the will to live in this place.

The old man is just driving me crazy.

- Yeah, he'll do that.

Look, I'll pick you up at six, all right?

- All right. - Gotta get the van

from Davey, he's doing some work on it.

You gonna be wearing this on stage?

- Cheeky bastard.

(Vim laughs)

Take your smell with you!

(Vim laughs)

(Ravvi sighs)

(tense music) (engine rumbling)

(tense music continues)

(hand smacks) (head thuds)

- Oh! Fuckin' bender.

- Ah, calm down.

You need to give this place a tidy up, but come on.

I reckon it's time for a cuppa.

- Here, boys.

We've got no milk.

We're gonna have to use these little creams.

- Yeah, you crack on, darlin'.

Huh? As long as it's wet and warm.

- (gasps) Oh, George, stop it.

(bell dings)

- That's all right, I'll get it.

(phone ringing)

Flannigan Motors.

(Carla gasps)

Give us 15 minutes.

See ya shortly. - Oops, silly me.

(receiver thuds)

Your hands' clean yet, Davey?

- Drink up. We gotta go.

There's a breakdown on the Davy Road.

- George, I got a gig tonight. I can't be late.

- Well, you won't be, will ya, if you get a move on.

Come on, let's go.

- Oh, you got a gig tonight?

Didn't tell me.

- Uh, yeah.

Stew Pony. Eight o'clock.

- Huh, I might come along.

I've always wanted to see a real rock band.

- Don't know if it'll be your bag, Carla.

- Huh, we'll see.

Oi!

What winks and fucks like a tiger?

- [George] Davey, come on!

(hand smacks)

(engine rumbling)

(bright music)

- Oh, thank you for coming so quickly.

- You're very welcome, madam.

- I don't understand what happened. It just died on me.

- Oh, well don't worry.

Tell you what, we'll pop the bonnet

and then we'll have a look.

(lever pops)

(soft bright music)

Well, seems to me,

well I think it could be an electrical problem.

You know, going off of what you've just said,

but I reckon it could be a simple fix.

- Yeah, yeah, just let me have a look at this.

(soft bright music continues)

Oh, here's the culprit.

Earth leads come loose.

Happens all the time with these models.

There you go. Try that.

(engine rumbling)

- Oh, fabulous. Thank you so much.

- [George] Love, it is my pleasure.

And seeing as the sun is shining, this one's on us.

So come on, Davey. Let's go.

Finish those books. (hood thuds)

- See ya. See ya.

(engine humming)

♪ Baby ♪

- Oh, there you are. Bloody late.

- Sorry guys, just my bloody mum.

Ravvi this, Ravvi that.

"Ravvi is a good boy.

He should be learning to be an accountant,

not playing the devil's music."

- The devil's music?

Go set up your stuff. Off you pop.

- Oh, got something for ya.

- Oh, mate. You got samosas?

(Ravvi chuckles)

Yes.

- It's nearly eight. You need to start soon.

- Yeah, okay. In a minute.

- I want my eyeliner back.

(Davey grunts)

- All right, boys. Get ready to rock.

(tense drum music)

Good evening, Stew Pony.

We are Black Diamond.

(audience members whoop)

On my command, unleash the rock!

(dramatic rock music)

(dramatic rock music)

♪ Darkness ♪

♪ Creepin' round every corner ♪

♪ I will always see the light ♪

♪ Steel burnin' through my fingers ♪

♪ For my dream I will always fight ♪

♪ Dream's about to start ♪

♪ Dream straight from the heart ♪

♪ Now it's time to sleep ♪

♪ It's truth ♪

♪ Come out from the deep ♪

- He said... All right, boys,

fill your root cellar.

Yes, fellas! (group chattering)

Stevie!

- Stevo!

- Steve.

- Cheers, boys. Lovely.

- Oh yeah.

The lad's playing his bloody banjo

with Davey tonight, isn't he?

- Banjo? Tommy, seriously, all right?

That sodding guitar and all the paraphernalia

that goes with it costs nearly as much as my fucking Capri!

- Fuckin' hell, here we go.

You and that fucking Dagenham piece of shit.

- Shut the fuck up. I love my Capri.

And it's a lot fucking cooler than your pussy wagon, mate.

- (chuckles) So you don't fancy goin' down

to watch for a bit tonight, then?

- Nah, (indistinct).

The boy needs a proper job.

He's doing a little bit of work at, oh fuck, where is it?

- Oh, McHendry's, isn't it?

- McHendry's, McHendry's.

But he needs a fucking trade, right?

An apprenticeship.

I mean, stop daydreaming about becoming

some sort of fucking rockstar, come on.

- There's nothing going on at the colliery either,

not with these bloody job cuts planned.

- That's what all the trouble's about, isn't it?

20,000 jobs.

- Branch secretaries meeting this weekend, apparently.

- It's more like government redemption for the '74 strike.

Heath got his fuckin' ass kicked then.

(dramatic rock music)

(dramatic rock music continues)

- Our board chairman, he ain't gonna fucking budge, huh?

So we're out next week, boys. Strike!

- Oh, bloody hell.

Can we talk about something else, please?

- Tommy.

- Fuck me.

Who lifted his bloody skirt?

- He's been stressed at work, too.

Fucking Northern monkey.

(Smudge scoffs)

(tense music) (engine rumbling)

(tense music continues)

(traffic whirring)

- Evening, ladies.

- Hello.

(footsteps tapping)

♪ Now it's time to sleep ♪

♪ It's truth come out from the deep ♪

♪ Dream's about to start ♪

♪ Dream straight from the heart ♪

♪ Now it's time to sleep ♪

♪ To come out from the deep ♪

(audience applauding and cheering)

- What happened there?

- Yeah, I know, I beat the fuck out of it.

(tense music) (groups chattering)

- Oh look. - Ooh, lovely.

(tense music continues)

(lighter clicks)

(tense music continues) (dramatic rock music)

(door handle creaks)

♪ But the devil'll say you'll go far ♪

♪ Mr. Hindsight, Mr. Smooth ♪

♪ Mr. Smooth ♪

♪ Get out of my life ♪

♪ Get out of my groove ♪

♪ Outta my groove ♪

♪ Mr. Hindsight, Mr. Smooth ♪

♪ Mr. Smooth ♪

♪ Get outta my life ♪

♪ Get outta my groove ♪

♪ Outta my groove ♪

♪ Mr. Awesome ♪

♪ Get outta my life ♪

♪ Mr. Awesome ♪

(Davey grunts)

♪ Get outta my groove ♪

(audience applauding and cheering)

- Nice brandy, please, sweetheart.

Keep the change

(audience applauding and cheering)

- [Davey] We love you!

(audience applauding and cheering)

Black Diamond!

- So, you know this dodger, do you?

- Yeah, I hang out with them. Singer's my brother.

- Ah. I'd like to have a word with him.

- [Chrissy] And why?

- I'm a producer, a record producer.

I have a recording studio.

- Yeah?

You for real?

- Oh yes, yes.

I'd like to have a chat with the boys,

see if they're interested in recording any of this stuff.

Is it self-paying?

- Self what?

- Is it their own material?

- Yeah, yeah. Most of it.

- Excellent, excellent.

- Oh, this is Clay.

- Hello, friend, I'm Derry.

I think your material has potential.

- Oh yeah. In what way?

- Well, have you ever recorded any of this stuff?

- No, we haven't.

- Well, I might be able to help you.

You see, I own a unique recording facility,

with a top-notch engineer who's an ex-DJ

and a former rock star himself.

Dean Glover?

- Oi.

We're on in five minutes. Do you want a beer?

- You bastard.

- Look, if you wanna move onwards and upwards,

give me a call, yeah?

Must dash.

- All right.

(dramatic music)

(dramatic music continues) (footsteps tapping)

(dramatic music continues)

(tense music)

Good evening, Dean, old son. How are ya?

What do you mean what do I want, you cheeky bugger? (laughs)

Actually, there is something I need, Dean,

and there might be a small opportunity in it for yourself.

(chuckles) Yeah.

Okay, well I'll tell you what, look,

I'll fill you in on the details when I get back home, yeah?

All right, dear boy.

Lovely. I'll catch you later.

Ta-ta for now. (chuckles)

(traffic whirring)

(door thuds)

- Ah, Gordon.

Good to see you, Gordon.

An encouraging meeting, I thought.

- Yes, indeed.

- I have a very small matter

I'd like to discuss with you, if I may.

It is somewhat of a delicate nature.

- Of course, Vicar.

- A very troubled gentleman came to see me

a few days ago at the vicarage.

He seemed, well, lost.

- I see.

- From a very early age, it seems,

this man has been involved

in certain ritualistic activities pertaining to a sect,

a satanic order.

They have a hold over him, he says,

and he needs salvation.

- Goodness.

Is this really going on right now, in our parish?

- In the diocese, certainly.

The bishop is very keen to help those

that find themselves misled,

and it is our Christian duty to help this poor man.

- I find this astonishing. What's his name?

- Derry. Derry Knight.

- A polite, seemingly gentle chap, if a little odd.

- Hmm. Name doesn't ring a bell.

What's your plan of action?

- In return for his salvation,

Mr. Knight has offered to collate

and reveal information about the sect.

He has some limited influence, but it could be costly.

He needs to gain favor with the so-called high priest.

Apparently he's very impressed

with anyone associated with wealth.

- Let me talk to some of the members.

Thank you for sharing this.

It's most disturbing.

- Thank you, Gordon.

We must take this very seriously.

As you are aware,

there's been an alarming rise in the incidents

of occult practices of late in the area.

If only we could save this one poor soul.

- Indeed, Vicar. Indeed.

- Thank you once again, Gordon. God bless.

(footsteps tapping)

(door thuds)

(Gordon sighs and sniffs)

(footsteps tapping)

(tense music)

(door thuds)

(tense music continues)

- Well, that's all gone to plan.

The bleeding hearts fell for it, Derry.

(both chuckle)

- Come on, let's go.

(engine rumbling)

(cymbal clangs)

- Oi.

Who was that Gaylord from earlier?

- What Gaylord?

- This fucking bloke.

Looked like a pimp.

Walking up in that big curtain and all that jewelry.

Raisin' up to record.

His card.

Said he had some ex-DJ as a sound engineer or something.

- Oh yeah? Who?

- Dean Glover. - Who?

- Fuckin'...

Dean Glover?

- Yeah.

- Do you know who that is?

- (scoffs) Yeah, I think so.

- Fuck me, mate. You ain't lived.

He's a bloody legend.

(Vim scoffs)

He was the front man for White Satin, late '60s, early '70s.

- Never heard of him.

- He's just another washed up hippie, man.

(Ravvi laughs)

- It's gotta be worth a punt, eh?

What you reckon, Clay?

Ravvi?

- Yeah. - Well, I suppose

we'll check it out.

He looks so dodgy, though.

- Yeah, he was a bit creepy.

Alright, lads, we're good. I'm off.

- All right. - See ya, bro.

- See ya later, Ravioli.

(claps) Do you miscreants fancy a swifty before we go home?

- Yeah, I'll join you.

- Uh-huh?

- Yeah, go on, then.

- [Vim] Yeah!

(both chuckle)

(door thuds)

- All right, lads, get us a pint?

I gotta piss.

- Oh, hey-oh, the rock stars are here.

- Oh, fuck me.

- Hey, I think we should really look

into this recording stuff.

Get some raw material down.

You never know.

As weird as this guy seems, he could have some connections.

- He certainly was a strange one, wasn't he?

I'll look into it. Give him a call next week, yeah?

- Good.

Hey, what about those bloody pants on Ravvi's head?

- They were meant for you.

(both laugh)

- Fuck me.

This place has gone to shit, hasn't it?

- Oh yeah.

- What did you fuckin' say, son?

- What you talking about, mate?

- Who the fuck are you?

You talkin', who are you? The funny one?

- I need a sense of humor with a face like that, mate.

- Leave it, man. Leave it out, leave it out.

- What have you all come dressed as? You lose a bet?

- We're a band, mate.

- Fuckin' band. - Now piss off.

- You should be banned, boys. - Okay.

- Sort it out, yeah?

Oi, wait!

- You fancy a barney, don't you?

- [Angry Patron] You fancy a barney.

- I do fancy a barney. - Come inside or out, mate.

No drama.

- Oi, oi, oi! - I'm just saying.

- Fuckin' back off.

Oi, do you know what I am?

I'm a fuckin' miner, so fuck you.

All right, Tom, come here.

Right, these are my boys.

That's my family. That's my son, looks like Elvis.

- All right, Dad. - That's his boy, Davey.

No, shut up.

You know what?

He's got a long hair, may look like a girl,

but you know what, they're fuckin' talented.

So you, my friend, get your fuckin' pint and fuck off.

No! Listen to me. - All right, all right, Will.

- I won't have it. (group chattering)

No, no, you know what?

- [Vim] Will, come on, I'm gonna take you home,

all right? - I'll fuck you...

I'm pissed. - Yeah, we can tell.

Let's go, let's go, mate.

Come on. - But you know what

I'm gonna do?

- Will, mate. - Right. No.

- I'm gonna drive you home, mate.

Come on, let's go. - But you know what?

Yeah, take me home, all right?

- Yeah, I'm gonna take you home, come on.

- But you... Dad, come on.

- Don't fuckin' know what we are.

- Dad, we haven't had our pints yet.

- Come on, son. Come on.

Just take off.

Have a nice night, would ya? - Thank you. All the best.

(group chattering)

- You band are fuckin' brilliant!

I love fucking this band!

I fucking love 'em!

I love them! - All right.

Get in, Dad. - I love them.

Even though you wear fuckin'-

- Mind your head. - Mascarara.

I don't fucking care.

I fucking...

- Come on. - I gotta get home, mate.

- You are home. Come on. - Let me out, son.

- Out with ya.

Straight down. There we go.

All right? There ya go, salty dog.

Straight down there, mate.

- [Clay] See ya later, Dad.

- You good? - I love you.

Love you, son.

- [Clay] I love you, too.

Get to bed. (chuckles)

- Off you go.

(somber music)

- Vim.

(somber music continues)

Don't fuckin' need this right now.

He says he supports me, but he fuckin' doesn't.

You heard him in the back. (sighs)

The only time he fuckin' speaks to me

is when he's had a fucking drink.

(Will shouting) Fucking blah, blah, blah, blah

as if everything's gonna be all right.

- Miners!

- I don't wanna do anything else with my life, lads.

This band, this band is literally all I've got.

- Yeah, I know, mate. Same here.

(Clay exhales)

(Vim farting)

- Oh! - Aw, come on.

Well that killed the moment.

- Yeah. - Yes, sir, Mr. Brown.

- Well not everyone else has got a drummer

that speaks through his own fucking farts.

(group chuckles)

Fuck me.

Anyway, look, lads. I better be off.

Go make sure he doesn't throw up on the fucking rug again.

- See ya.

(somber music continues)

- [Vim] See ya later, mate.

- [Clay] See ya later, boys.

- You walking home, then?

Or shall I drop you? - Oh, come on, drop us off.

- "Be your own houseplant expert" and I'm fucking outside.

- [Clay] Just gonna get some fags, Dad.

- Oh, grab us a pack, will we?

- [Clay] Yeah, I will. I will.

- Oh, Clay, Clay. Hang on, son.

Hang on, son. Come here.

Now I promise everything's gonna be all right.

Give your dad a hug, please?

You're never too old to hug your daddy. (chuckles)

Go on. Off you go.

Oh, I love you.

- I love you, too.

(tense music)

(tense music continues)

(waves lapping) (children chattering)

(waves lapping) (tense music continues)

(hands smack and clap)

(tense music continues)

(engine rumbling) (tense music continues)

(tense music continues)

- Hello.

- Oh, it is you. Hey.

- [Aisha] What are you up to?

Might help if you took those things out of your ears.

- Sorry.

- Are you all right?

- Yeah. Yeah, just tryin' to keep myself in shape.

I'm the front man of a band.

- Really?

Yes, you look like the type.

- So, your car okay now?

- Fabulous, thanks to you.

- What are you up to?

- You know, it's a nice day.

Thought I'd get some fresh air.

It's so tranquil here with the sea.

- Yeah.

Where's your husband?

- My husband is probably off with his Free Mason chums,

or possibly playing bloody golf.

- You should come to a gig sometime.

- (chuckles) Thank you. No, probably not my thing.

- Don't knock it till you tried it.

- Maybe sometime.

(birds squawking)

- Are you, um, are you okay?

- Yes. Thank you.

Just taking some time to think.

(gentle music)

- What are you thinkin' about?

- My life in general.

It didn't go according to plan.

Didn't get your name.

- David.

Um, Davey. Everyone calls me Davey.

- Aisha.

(gentle music continues)

- I should probably go.

- Where are you going?

- Ah, just home. Live just down there.

I'll see you around sometime.

- Maybe.

Cheerio, Davey.

(gentle music continues)

- [Clay] Oh shit.

(traffic whirring)

(lighter clicks)

(engine rumbling)

- [Chrissy] Hi-ya.

- [Clay] You okay?

- Yeah, cool. Great gig last night.

And you went down amazing.

- Thanks.

- What are you doing later?

- Oh, you know, pub, beer, maybe chips.

Then get lost walking home wankered.

Livin' the dream.

- Okay.

- Anyway, look Chrissy, I'm gonna go.

So, I'll catch you later.

- Cool. Yeah.

(engine rumbling)

(mellow music)

(door thuds)

(mellow music continues)

(door thuds)

- Gordon?

Gordon? Gordon?

- In here.

There she goes again.

(glass clinking)

Even for you that's a little early.

- There's an awful lot of money

going from the account, Gordon.

Would you like to shed some light on that?

- Oh, a new venture.

Nothing to worry your little head about.

- Really?

(glass thuds)

Don't insult my intelligence.

- Bye, darling.

(dramatic rock music)

(buttons clicking)

(phone ringing)

- I'll get it. I'll get it.

Hello?

- Clay, it's Vim.

Hey man, do you wanna go to a gig?

- Yeah, sure, man. Where?

- Yeah, Rav's just told me about this new place,

the Babylon Club.

It's on the other side of town.

Fancy it? Pick you up at seven.

- Yeah, all right, man. I'll catch you later.

- All right, tidy. I'll see you then.

- Bye. Bye, bye, bye, bye.

(dramatic rock music)

- [Vim] Woo! (claps)

- Oh, Dad, Dad, Dad.

Look at this.

That's a bit of all right, innit?

- Oh, that is a fuckin' beast, son!

That is the T-Rex of all Ford Capris.

V6, fuel injection 2.8, and zoom!

(both laugh)

Do you fancy that?

- I'm gonna get one of these with my first royalty check.

- (chuckles) In your fucking dreams, son.

In your fucking dreams.

- All right, I'm off to bingo, love.

- All right, darling.

Oh listen, very soon we're gonna have to,

we're gonna have to pull in the purse strings, okay?

Because we are striking. It's definite.

(soft ominous music)

Oh, fuck.

- Well maybe this time it'll be short-lived, you know?

I mean, if we all pull together and support each other

like we did last time.

- No, not this time.

This time I've got a feeling here,

that this time's gonna be different, all right?

Uneconomical pits my fucking ass.

Now this bitch Thatcher and her Nazi government,

they wanna stop the unions, right?

They wanna kill the unions.

That's gonna be a bloody war.

And I'm gonna be right on the front line.

- Right, well I'll bet and win big at bingo, then.

- Yeah, yeah, you will. - It's all right.

Yeah.

There's a couple of beers in the fridge, all right?

I'll see you later.

- Yeah. Love you.

- Love you, too.

- Oh yeah, look, I'm gonna call Davey, so.

- Yeah. Yeah, all right, son.

(soft ominous music continues)

- Dad? Goin' out in a bit.

Goin' down to the pub?

- No, son, thanks.

Hey, son, listen, you know there's trouble brewing

down at the pit, strike's looming.

- Yeah, I know, Dad.

Not completely oblivious to what's going on in the world.

- That's as maybe, but you're all

gallivanting around in your van like it doesn't matter.

People are watching, commenting.

- So what can I do about it, Dad?

It's not my fault the union's stirring

the shit pot again, is it?

This band is a bit of hope.

Something to look forward to.

- I know, son. I know. (sighs)

- What are you gonna do, Dad?

- I don't know.

I don't know what to do.

If your mum were here, she'd have the answers.

- Well, she's not, Dad.

She's dead.

- You and your sister, you're adults now.

Soon you'll be gone.

The mines are all I've got.

I need to do something.

I need to work.

- Yeah, I get it.

You gotta do what you gotta do.

(somber music)

- See you later, Dad.

- Have a nice time, love.

(somber music continues)

I miss her, too.

(somber music continues) (Tom crying)

(gate creaks)

(mellow music)

- [Vim] Come on, tripod.

- [Chrissy] Scoot up, Ravvi.

(door thuds)

(engine rumbling) (mellow music continues)

- Why do you call him that?

- He's a fucking walking cock, that's why.

- Oh, for God's sake.

- Oi, have you all heard about the new

Monster of Rock lineup this year?

- Going to the park again, yeah?

- Yeah, man. Van Halen, Gary Moore, AC/DC.

It's fuckin' awesome, man.

- Oh wow. What, really?

- You know I heard that Ozzy's

gonna be making an appearance.

- Ozzy. Oh, he's a legend.

- Hey look, I don't know about that,

but AC/DC is the fuckin' headliner.

- Hey, Vim. - What?

- You'll never guess what happened to me earlier.

- Go on then. What?

- Saw that girl with the sports car again.

- (laughs) Yeah, and then you woke up, right?

- Nah, nah. I were jogging.

She was just sat on the promenade, we got to talking.

- The fuck were you out jogging for?

- Fuck off.

(engine rumbling)

- Oi, Clay, when are you gonna talk about that Gaylord

gettin' us some studio time?

- Do you mean Derry?

I don't give a fuck what his name is.

Dreary Night, whatever.

- Yeah, look, I'll give him a call tomorrow.

- Rockin' roll! - Ow!

(frenetic rock music)

(frontman sings indistinctly)

♪ Friends are goin' down ♪

♪ Please don't bring me down ♪

♪ (indistinct) goin' around ♪

♪ Fools are bringin' it down ♪

(frenetic music) (front man sings indistinctly)

♪ Not gonna be me ♪

♪ I can't die ♪

(frenetic music)

- We're not at the bar-

(music drowns out speech)

- No.

- Fuckin' hell.

(frenetic music) (frontman sings indistinctly)

- What the fuck are you doin' in here?

- This ain't your fuckin' bar, you fucking cunt.

♪ Don't you do it ♪

♪ I took it too far ♪

(frenetic music)

♪ Not gonna be me ♪

(dramatic music) - Go that way!

(dramatic music continues)

- Shit! - Vim, what are we doing?

(dramatic music continues) (group shouting)

♪ Can't complain ♪

(group shouting)

- You bloody cunt!

I'll fuckin' end ya, man.

- [Davey] Let's go, let's go, let's go!

- [Vim] Are we in? Are we in?

Close the bloody door!

(dramatic music) (tires screech)

(van rattling) (group shouting)

- Fuckin' with me!

(Vim laughing)

- Stupid fuck!

(Vim laughing)

That was the most hostile gig I've ever been to.

Whose fuckin' idea was this?

- Bloody well hostile? More like terrifying.

- Nice one, Ravvi. Good call.

- Yeah, maybe not.

Sorry, a misjudgment there.

- Yeah, fuckin' hell. No shit.

We're lucky to get outta there alive, mate.

And the skinheads didn't (head thuds)

like you, did they? - Ow, fuck!

Fuckin' hell, is everyone okay?

- No. - Yeah.

- Hey, you all right?

- Yeah, I'm okay.

- Yeah, maybe we'll give that venue a miss, then.

- Yes.

I fancy a quiet drink somewhere.

- [Vim] (laughs) Yeah.

- Oi, Vim. - Yo.

- Drop me off at the local, will ya?

- [Vim] You got it.

- Does anyone else wanna join us?

- Yes, please, mate. I will.

- Yeah, me, too.

- (sighs) Christ.

- [Vim] I have a hard on the size

of the Eiffel fuckin' tower, lads.

- [Davey] You are a fucking maniac.

(Vim laughs)

Skinheads. What has it gotta be skinheads, for?

(Vim laughs)

Fuckin' Christ.

(Vim whoops) (group laughing)

(door thuds)

(gentle music)

(door thuds)

- See you later, Ravvi. (horn toots)

(gentle music continues)

- Hello. - Hi.

- So much for the big night out, then.

- I know.

Didn't quite go swell, did it?

- (chuckles) Can I get two beers, please?

- Yes, certainly.

- What about me?

- I thought you'd want a gin and tonic.

- Gonna go powder my nose.

- Now, gonna phone Percy at the porcelain.

- [Davey] Cheers.

(door thuds) - Thank you.

- She's a bit of a beauty.

- Aisha. Um, hi.

- Is she yours?

- Who? Oh, what, Chrissy?

She's my sister.

She just hangs out with us.

- Oh, like a groupie sort of thing?

- Sort of. (chuckles)

No husband, then?

- No. He's off playing with his buddies.

I just popped in for a quick drink with friends.

He'll be back soon I expect,

so I was about to take a slow walk back home.

- Oh, so you're near, then?

- Yes.

- Can I walk you home?

- Oh, he's a gentleman, too.

Hello. Who's this?

- Oh hi. Clay.

- Aisha. Nice to meet you.

- Likewise.

- And you must be Chrissy.

- Uh, yeah. Hi.

- Well, as lovely as it is to meet you all,

I really am on my way home, so do excuse me.

Must be off.

- Oh yes, we must.

(door thuds)

- Well, this night really has been full of surprises.

- Thank you.

- Come on.

(gentle music)

- So what do you do when you're not howling

and prancing on stage?

- Who says I howl?

- Only kidding.

How's work?

- Yeah, um, busy.

I don't intend to spend very long at the garage, though.

I hate it, really.

But it's a means to an end.

- Indeed.

- So, what are your plans for the future?

- Oh God, I don't know.

I can't even see past bloody next week.

- No, I mean like settling down.

You haven't got a girlfriend?

- (scoffs) Nah. I haven't got time for all that.

I can see the problems the other lads are havin',

and nah, not for me.

Women just don't understand

that rock 'n roll lifestyle, I guess.

- I do.

- Yeah, but you're different, Chrissy.

- Yeah, exactly.

- That's 'cause you're Davey's sister.

Look, you know the sketch.

Anyway, come on, let's drink these.

I'll book you a cab, get you home.

(Chrissy sighs)

- So, tell me about your band.

- Sure.

We mostly write our own stuff.

It's gettin' better now, too.

And we got a producer lined up.

Could get us in the studio, do some recording.

- Fabulous. Who's that, then?

- Oh, big flash dude.

Goes by the name of Derry, I think.

(footsteps tapping)

- Derry Knight?

- Uh, yeah. Yeah, that's him.

- Oh God.

- [Davey] What?

- You need to tread carefully there.

- Don't think I like the sound of that.

What's he done?

- What hasn't he done?

- Great.

- Look, my husband has business dealings with him.

Just don't get too involved.

- Okay. Thanks for heads up.

- This is me.

(gentle music)

- I guess I'll see you around.

(gentle music continues)

I wanna kiss every inch of your body.

- Oh God.

(both breathing heavily)

Davey, my husband will be home any minute.

You have to go. Please.

(gentle music continues)

- Okay.

I'm sorry.

- Don't be.

Thank you for walking me home.

That was very sweet.

(gentle music continues)

- Goodnight.

(Aisha sighs)

(tense music)

- Fuck me, you struggling a bit, sunshine?

Rough night last night, was it?

- You don't sweat much for a fat cunt, do you?

- Oi, fuckin' watch yourself, all right?

Look, uh, you interested in a bit of free enterprise?

- What?

- Got a bit of a thing going on

with the the pop factory over in Folkestone.

- Pop? - Yeah, pop.

You know, dandelion and burdock,

lemonade, that sort of thing.

My brother works on the artics over there.

Got a bit of a fiddle going on with the warehouse man.

- What's the crack then?

- Well, it's evenings and weekends mostly.

But you can go out, you can give a bit.

But your mum likes a bit

of dandelion and burdock, doesn't she?

- Hey, look, mate, it's not really for me.

My weekends are tied up with gigs

and the band and stuff, so.

- Look, I'll be doing it with or without ya,

so if you want a bit, let me know, all right?

- All right.

Can we get a cup of tea or something?

- Look, let's get this shit unloaded.

Come on, you lazy bastard.

(birds squawking)

(engine rumbling) (heavy rock music)

(heavy rock music continues)

- All right, son?

Fuck me, look at the state of you. (chuckles)

- All right, Derry.

Not really what I wanna be doing,

but it's bread and butter, do you know what I mean?

- A man's gotta do what a man needs to do.

And you know what you need to do, don't you, son, eh?

If you wanna make a change in your life.

- Yeah, look, Derry, I was gonna call you but I just-

- I know, I know.

Look, why don't you try and get over tomorrow afternoon.

Hey, say, what, three o'clock?

What do you reckon, Dean?

- Yeah, I guess.

- Yeah, come over tomorrow, we'll have a chat.

I'll show you around and then you can start thinking

about those bright lights and dizzy heights, eh? (chuckles)

Is that all right with you, squire?

- Yeah. - Right.

Come on in, Dean.

I've got a mouth like Gandhi's flipflop.

Let's get a cuppa, yeah? (chuckles)

- Come on.

(tense music)

- Who the fuck's Mr. Big, then?

- Oh, mate, don't ask.

♪ Don't forget what I've told you ♪

♪ Your smile's getting older. ♪

♪ Let's try to be bolder and- ♪

(bell dings)

- I'll get it!

(phone ringing)

♪ Forget what I told you ♪

♪ Your smile's getting older ♪

♪ Let's try to be bolder ♪

(phone ringing)

- Hello?

Hi, Clay.

♪ Turn into gold ♪ - Davey!

Phone.

- Yep. (sighs)

Christ.

(gentle music)

Who is it?

(gentle music continues)

Hey, hey, my man Clay.

How's it hangin'?

- All right.

Sounds like you had a good night in the end.

- Oh mate, you wouldn't believe.

- Anyway, look, job's on for tomorrow to see the studio.

Do you reckon you can get away from the garage for a bit?

- Um, yeah. Yeah, sure.

Yeah, no worries. I'll work it out.

- All right, cool. I'll see you later.

(tense music)

- To move forward in the path of virtue,

we must first renounce the ways of darkness.

Do you renounce Satan and all his works?

Do you believe in God the Almighty,

creator of heaven and Earth?

- Yes, I renounce Satan and all his works and ways

and surrender myself to God!

- Do you pledge allegiance to Christ

and renunciation of the devil as the enemy of Christ?

- Yes!

(water sloshes)

- In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.

- (sighs) Thank you, Reverend.

But I must free myself from this debt

and items that were bestowed to me by the satanic order.

This you understand, and the vestments and the regalia

that goes with it.

I had to show my power and wealth to gain their confidence.

- You need to take this regalia

and artifacts from the satanic order

that hold the power of darkness.

We can then destroy them

and free you from the clutches of the devil.

- Yes! (panting)

- May this donation from the most committed Christians

in my diocese help and guide you

and save you from evil.

- (sighs) Thank you, Reverend.

(Derry sighs)

(footsteps tapping)

Thank you, God. (chuckles)

(tense music)

(tense music continues) (engine rumbling)

- Fuck me.

We've landed, boys!

- I don't fuckin' believe this.

- You sure this is the right place?

- Yeah, Stanton Manor.

That's what it says on the sign outside.

- We're only here to have a chat, right?

Come on, let's check it out.

- Oi, you don't have a say in the matter.

Don't know what you're doing here anyway.

- Oh man, leave her out. She's cool.

(gravel crunching)

- Good afternoon, folks, and welcome.

- All right.

- Hi. - Hey.

- Come on in.

We'll sort you out a drink,

and then I'll give you a little tour, eh?

Come on. (chuckles)

- Sweet.

(footsteps tapping)

(door thuds)

(metal clangs)

Yes, this house goes back to the Domesday Book, you know.

It has 10 bedrooms and its own cinema room. (chuckles)

- Nice. And what about the studio?

- Ah, yes, of course. Yes.

You want to see the studio, don't you?

Well, it's in the converted cellar over here.

So, follow me, please, right?

- This place is top, isn't it?

- Shut up.

- This used to be an air raid bunker during the war,

but before that we're not sure.

(door creaks)

Maybe a wine cellar or a dungeon, one thinks. (chuckles)

(tense music)

And this is where the magic happens, as they say. (chuckles)

There's nothing behind there, dear boy.

Nothing to concern you.

(chuckles) That's it.

Yes, well it's as I say, it's all state of the art here,

and come through here.

In here, ah! (chuckles)

This is Dean and Phones, a highly experienced

sound and professional producing engineer.

- All right, man. - Derry,

and uh, friends.

- All right, mate.

We did meet before, but you probably don't recognize me.

- Oh yeah, yeah. Yeah, I remember.

- Hi. - Hi.

- It's an honor to meet you, man.

- Oh, hi, oof.

- [Phones] Hi.

- And who's this with you?

- Um, hi, Chrissy.

- Chrissy? Ah.

Fancy.

- Okay, well I'm going to leave you

in these boys' capable hands, okay?

And I'll see you upstairs in a bit

for a little drinky poo, all right? (chuckles)

Have fun.

- Okay, folks, I guess I'll show you around, yeah?

Okay, look, as you can see we've got a 24 trap desk,

effects rack, patch,

and here we have a 24-track TASCAM for the masters.

So, let's go to the live room.

So, there's a few assorted cabs if you wanna use 'em.

- Oi, do you want some of this?

- No, I'm good.

- [Phones] No worries.

- Few Zildjian cymbals, whatever you want.

I've just got a nice new assortment of AKG microphones,

and a assortment of keyboards should you wish.

- Hey Davey, have a look at these.

- Oh.

- Yeah, boys. Yeah, you can't use those.

They're my special guitars.

- Yeah.

Hey, that one looks like Tony Iommi's from Sabbath.

- Yeah. Morgan Studios, 1973, man.

- You worked with Sabbath?

- Well yeah.

- Hold on. Isn't Tony Iommi left-handed?

- Oh, I guess that's why he gave it to me, mate.

Wasn't my place to question him.

Anyway, what do you think?

- Yeah, fantastic.

What's the crack, then? With the cost, that is.

- Hey look, man, me and Phones,

we're just the engineers

so you have to take that up with Derry, yeah.

- Okay.

- Let's go and talk to Derry, then.

- [Clay] Let's go.

- Cheers, Dean.

- Yeah, cool.

(Ravvi chattering)

Go and see.

(guitar strings chime)

Don't touch that.

- Ah, so, what's your poison then, folks?

- [Clay] You got any beers?

- [Davey] Yeah, a beer for me, too, thanks.

- Yes, of course.

- Cheers.

- What's that?

- Why don't you try...

Allow me.

Let me surprise you. (chuckles)

(glass clinks)

(drink sloshing)

- Thanks.

- Now then, fellas, and of course lady.

We're putting together a compilation album

showcasing some of the newest talent.

We need six bands with two tracks each.

We're going to press them,

provide the full artwork for them,

and send them off to the biggest A&R men in the business.

In other words, I'll be looking after six acts.

- Yeah? Well what have we got, then?

- Oh, that's easy.

Two of your best tracks and two grand.

- Two grand!

- Yes, this isn't a bloody demo tape, you know.

We'll be paying for everything.

We're gonna set you up and give you meetings

with the top record companies, meetings with the big boys,

even get you bigger gigs in London.

So, are you ready for the bright lights and dizzy heights?

Eh? (laughs)

- London?

- Yes, well that's where you need to be these days

to get noticed.

You just lay down a couple of tracks in the studio,

sit back, and wait for the telephone to ring.

- Well, we'll talk about it.

We'll let you know tomorrow.

- Yeah, well that's fine.

But don't wait too long.

There are other bands that are waiting this opportunity.

(Chrissy slurping)

Can I get you another one of those?

- (chuckles) Thanks.

(miner laughs) (miners chattering)

- Terry.

- Terry! Terry! (fists pounding)

Terry! Terry! (fists pounding)

Terry! Terry! (fists pounding)

Terry! Terry! (fists pounding)

Terry!

(tense music)

- All right, chaps.

Well, as some of you now know,

Colindale and Yorkshire is out on strike as of now.

(miners chattering)

MacGregor wants to shut the quarry

on the grounds it's uneconomic.

And that's gonna result in the loss of over 20,000 jobs.

- Oh, for fuck's sake.

- They've asked us to come out and support,

and I now have it on very good authority

that the NCB directors plan for the ax to fall

on one of our very own collieries here in Kent.

- No! - No.

- [Terry] Which again will result

in the loss of thousands of jobs.

- Fuck.

- I say this is completely unacceptable!

- Yeah! - Yes!

- Yes! (fists pounding)

All right, listen up, mates.

(tense music)

Terry, we trust you, brother. We fuckin' trust you.

You're a miner just like me,

just like all of the lads, right?

If you tell us to come out for the Yorkshire miners,

our brothers, that Yankee fucking Scot,

what, the MacGregor?

Well, he can fuck off.

- [Miners] Yeah.

- And that bitch, boys, that bitch Thatcher

and her Nazi fucking government, they can fuck off as well.

They can all fuck off!

- Fuck 'em! - Yes!

- I mean, there hasn't been a ballot has there?

There's been no ballot.

- Well it's industrial vandalism, that's what it is.

Industrial vandalism.

- Right.

- [Miners] Will never be defeated.

The miners united will never be divided!

The miners united will never be divided!

The miners united will never be divided!

The miners united will never be divided!

- Cheers, boss.

- Yes, please. Thank you. - Hi.

- All right.

So, what's Gaylord's gaff like?

- See you, lads.

- [Both] See ya.

- The place is bloody massive,

and a music studio downstairs in a basement.

(Vim whistles)

It's a little odd, you know, the blokes who work for him.

- Ah, cheers. - Here you go.

- [Vim] Tidy.

(Clay sighs)

- Right. How are we gonna go about raising this dosh, then?

- Well, I suppose I can sell my body.

Take one for the team.

- You twat.

(Davey laughs)

- And you wouldn't earn enough

to get a fuckin' haircut, you cunt.

- Oh. - Oi.

Eat a dick, mate.

- [Vim] Swivel, bitch.

- Oi, shut the fuck up. Both of ya.

- Look, I have got a shitload of private work

I can do if I can use the workshop tools.

- All right, cool.

I think I know what I can do.

- I suppose I could make a couple of trips across the water,

move some merchandise.

Provided I don't get caught.

(group chuckles)

- Needs must, mate.

It's a good idea and it's quick cash.

- I could sell my mum's samosas.

Well, every little helps.

- Hey, we might need to be a bit careful

with this Derry character.

- Why? What's on your mind?

- Well, apparently he's a bit shifty.

I don't know, he might be into some weird shit.

- And you know this how?

- A source. A very good source.

- Hold the phone.

Not that chick from the other night, Aisha.

- Oh, not this old bird you were talking about.

- She's not fuckin' old!

- She's considerably older than you, mate, by quite a bit.

She's also married, ya dingus.

- Oh, bravo. This gets even better.

Who is she married to?

- I don't know. Some corporate pig.

And he knows Derry Knight.

- Well, putting that bullshit aside for a minute,

are we gonna do this or not?

Because if we are, we are doing it properly to the hilt.

I am not spending the rest of my life

playing in fucking pubs.

This is my ticket out.

We do it right, or we regret it

for the rest of our lives.

- Right. Shoulda, woulda, coulda, yeah?

(Clay sighs)

- All right, fuck it. Let's do it.

- [Ravvi] Yes!

- [Vim] Cheers, boys.

- Cheers. - Cheers.

(glasses clink)

- Watch out world, here we come.

(gentle piano music) (glasses thudding)

Oh, Christ.

(tense music) (traffic whirring)

- Ah! (chuckles) Here are my superstars.

(tense music continues) (gravel crunching)

(traffic whirring) (doors thudding)

- [Vim] Fuck me backwards.

- [Ravvi] Oh dear.

(Vim laughs)

(gravel crunching)

(door thuds)

(gravel crunching)

(instruments tuning)

- Hey, whoa. Dean, Dean!

Oi, I can't hear the kick drum in the cans.

(drum thudding)

- Phones, go and check that SLR cable, man, will ya?

- Dean.

- [Phones] Try that, dude.

- Okay, man.

(drum thudding)

Okay, Vim, do that.

Kick it, man. Try it.

(drum thudding)

- Yep, that's good!

(dramatic rock music)

- Let's go, lads. Come on.

(dramatic rock music continues)

Let's have it, come on.

- [Group] Stevo!

- Funny, ain't ya?

(dramatic rock music continues)

(group chattering)

- Let's put down roots.

- Oh, here they come.

- Oi, oi, oi, oi, oi, oi!

- How about a little dance, girls?

- [Patrons] Hello, ladies.

- [Patron] Hey, ma'am.

- Piss off.

(group laughs)

- Will, where's that bastard, Tom?

- Yeah, he said he'd be joining us?

You gonna have a talk with him?

- Oh yeah. Yeah, we're gonna have a talk.

Right, Smudge?

- Right, Will.

- Oh, there you are, lads.

Oh, this is the life, isn't it?

- Why, do you think we get paid to sit here

and have a fuckin' drink, Tom, eh?

- Well, we got a nice evening for it.

Thought I'd come and see what you were up to.

- We've been on our feet for hours, Tom.

Did you forget the picket today or what?

- Yeah, where the fuck were you?

- Oh, I was busy, lads. Sorry.

- Bollocks. Since when?

- Busy. What, busy cuttin' your fuckin' grass?

Or busy playin' with your fucking toy train.

- Oh, aye, that and all.

Anyway, I thought you said four o'clock.

- 1400 hours, you tit.

Oh, I forgot. You can't tell the time, can ya?

- 1400 is two o'clock,

and 1600 is fucking four o'clock at the pub.

Well, at least you got that part right?

- Oh, well eff you, Charlie Uniform November Tango.

Cunt.

- Tom, why don't you go inside.

And you don't need to buy a drink

because Stevo's gettin' 'em

- Oh, nag, nag, nag.

You're worse than the bloody missus, you are.

Fuck. Sorry, love.

- Get in the fucking pub 'cause me and you

are gonna have a chat, all right?

(instruments tuning)

- Okay, boys, stand by.

And rolling.

- One, two. (drumsticks tapping)

One, two, three, four. (drumsticks tapping)

(dramatic rock music)

- Fucking love you guys.

Fucking love you. You are militant!

We will strike and we will, fucking hell.

- All right, stand by your mates.

Fucking branch secretary.

- Well, if you'd have been listening, best mate,

you would've known that's why we're fucking here.

Oh, don't you know Terry, lads?

(group chattering)

All right, Ter.

- Good show, eh. Really good show.

I'm really proud of ya.

But we need to do more.

We need to have a real show of strength for our cause.

- [Miners] Yes!

- 'Cause what we're doing, organizing supply and pickets

up and down the country. - Yes!

- An organized minibus for those of you who don't drive,

haven't got cars.

All right, who's with me, yeah?

- [Miners] Yeah!

- Good lads. Good lads.

- So are you shittin' out again?

(tense music)

- I'm not coming, Will.

- I'll fuckin' kill you, son.

I'll fuckin' kill you.

- I'm going back to work.

Look, things are not what they seem.

- Fucking please. You're my...

You're my best mate!

You're my best fuckin' mate, my brother!

You gonna end up a fuckin' scab!

You're a scab I don't want now.

What are we gonna do with a fucking scab?

Please! Talk, please!

Fuck's sake.

Don't be a scab, please.

Fuck's sake, please!

Fucking please!

You're my best mate!

- I will not be a pawn in someone else's fight!

(miners shouting) - Fuckin' scab!

- [Miners] Scab! Scab!

Scab! Scab! - No!

- [Miners] Scab! Scab!

Scab!

- Scab! Scab!

- You fuck.

(dramatic rock music)

- I'll have that one, please, mate.

- That's great. That's five pound, then, please.

Perfect. Thank you.

- Okay then. Cheers.

- Hello, lads.

Hey, when's that demo coming out that you recorded?

- It's a bit more than a bloody demo, Rog.

- Mm, should've been a fucking album

for that amount of money.

- I hope Derry comes good with his promises

of big gigs in London.

You heard from that fat twat?

- Nah.

- Oh, are you talking about that big fella

with the flash cars and fur coats?

- Derry Knight.

- Yeah. I reckon he's a conman, lads.

I'm bloody tellin' ya.

- Aye, cheers for that, Rog.

Yeah, we really needed to hear that, mate. Thanks.

- Hey, just sayin' what I hear, man.

- Oi, fancy a few sneaky pints, sail on?

- Oh, nah. I've got a date.

Well, I have to meet someone.

- (chuckles) You what?

Since when do you go on dates?

You don't do dates?

Who's the lucky girl, then?

And when the fuck did this happen?

Oh, hold on.

You still with that posh totty? Ain't it?

What the fuck do you think you're doin', mate?

This has been going on for far too long.

You get caught you know-

- Would you fucking leave it, will ya?

(Clay scoffs)

- You haven't.

You've fallen for her, haven't ya?

Mate, she's married, and she's...

(grunts) She's old.

- Yes, I know she's married, and no, she's not old.

And lastly, it's none of your fuckin' business.

Okay?

(Clay sighs)

I'm sorry, I...

I gotta go.

- All right. - See ya around.

(tense rock music)

(birds squawking)

- Hello, you. - Hey, there.

(shells crunching)

(birds squawking)

- Are you okay?

- Yeah. Yeah, I'm cool.

- What's wrong?

- I just hate all this sneaking around.

- Well, what do you want to do, then?

Tell the world about us and run off into the sunset?

You do know what happens after the sunset, right?

Boredom, babies.

And the wife stuck cooking by a campfire.

- Don't be so dramatic.

Why does it have to be all bad?

It could be good.

Could be nice.

- I thought we were having fun.

- We are.

We were.

(somber music)

- Look, you know I care about you,

but perhaps we should cool things down a little.

- Okay. Yeah, yeah, sure.

If that's what you want.

- Davey. Davey!

(footsteps crunching)

(Aisha sighs)

(group vocalizing)

(dramatic music) (miners shouting)

- [Miners] Terry! Terry!

Terry! Terry!

Terry! Terry! - All right, lads.

- Fellow members,

unfortunately we find ourselves here today

for another reason:

To show our distaste to a certain individual

who's decided to betray us (miners shouting)

and go back to work!

- [Miners] Scab!

- I understand your anger, but comrades, hear this.

Do not cross these barriers!

- [Miners] No.

- We all know what the police are capable of.

- [Miners] Yeah!

- [Miner] Yeah, we do.

- And we'll not have a repeat of the violence

that's been endured by our members in the North.

Not in this neighborhood!

Will we? - No!

- Listen, I could build an army,

the likes of the 4th Commando,

with the courage and bravery of you lads.

- [Miners] Yes!

- But listen, do not cross those barriers!

Don't give 'em the opportunity

to use their heavy-handed tactics

like they did against our members in the North.

- Pigs!

- [Miners] Yeah, pigs!

- Show your verification to the police with your chance,

not with violence.

Show them that you, the mine workers of this colliery

stand dutifully steadfast,

and that you are justifiably proud of who you are!

- [Miners] Yeah!

- And justifiably proud of what you stand for!

- [Miners] Yes!

♪ Oh, I'd rather be a miner than a scab ♪

♪ Than a scab ♪

♪ Oh, I'd rather be a miner than a scab ♪

♪ Oh, I'd rather be a miner ♪

♪ I'd rather be a miner ♪

♪ I'd rather be a miner than a scab ♪

(miners shouting)

- Forward!

(miners shouting) (dramatic music)

(engine rumbling)

- Scab!

(dramatic music continues)

- [Miner] Hey, scab!

(miners shouting)

- Fuckin' scab!

Oh, fuckin' scab! (miners shouting)

Get the fuck off me!

(miners shouting)

Go on, then! Strike!

(miners shouting)

- Oi, go on!

(dramatic music fading)

- [Will] Go on, Smudge! Gimme some sack!

♪ We plant our stakes ♪

(audience applauding and cheering)

(audience clapping rhythmically)

♪ Our family's home ♪

♪ The girl will see ♪

♪ What she mean to me ♪

♪ You make me strong ♪

♪ And you're making me me ♪

♪ So I will listen to your heart ♪

(hands tapping)

(objects clattering)

- What the fuck is up with you, mate?

- Spare key, I can't find it.

Where the fuck is it?

(hands tapping)

Will you stop?

- Oi! - Christ!

- What the hell are we doing?

We're not a fucking cabaret act!

- I know Ravvi.

The old man asked us to show support, mate.

For charities, for the families.

You know how it is.

We've been over this, man.

- At least we missed that bird with the snake.

I hate fucking snakes.

- That's only 'cause you were late, then.

- Fucking bastard.

- Okay, calm down, boys.

There's a big crowd out there tonight.

Let's just get this done.

- Okay, but this is the last fuckin' one of these

that we're doing.

I mean, we are going fucking backwards, Clay.

Where the fuck is Dreary Night?

We haven't seen Gaylord in months.

What the fuck has he done with our demo tape?

- Vim, please. Please shut the fuck up.

- All right, lads, you're up.

Come on.

(bells jingling)

- Evenin', boys.

- [Vim] Steaming Jesus!

- [Lucy] Have a good one. See you later.

- Yeah. Bye.

- Hey, boys, she definitely needs to update that poster,

don't you think? (chuckles)

- Fuck's sake.

- Come on, man. Come on.

(Vim sighs and groans)

(hands clap) (jewelry jingles)

(audience chattering)

- [Audience Member] Here they come.

It's the hair band bunch. We want Manic Mike!

- Fucking supporter. Ya scab!

- Marco, shut the fuck up, please.

(somber rock music)

- Bloody great, innit they, Will?

- He looks a bit like Elvis, don't he?

- Yeah, he does.

- [Tom] All right, fellas.

(Tom sighs)

- Usual, Tom?

- Aye, cheers, Pat.

Oh, bit loud in here tonight, innit?

- Get us another drink.

- Okay.

- Hey, Will! Get in here!

- For fuck's sake, Tom's here.

- What's the matter? - He must have a death wish.

Marco, now. Come on.

- Oh, God. (sighs)

♪ Twisted emotion ♪

♪ Animal carcasses ♪

- Cheers. - Got fuckin' nerve

comin' here and now.

- Yeah, they don't serve scabs in here.

(Tom snorts)

- [Ang] I think you should leave, Tom.

- Oh, I don't know, Ang.

I mean it's my fucking club after all.

Drink here if I want to.

- Fucking scabby black leg bastard!

- Really? A sausage roll?

- Oh fuck off!

Come on! (group shouting)

- You leave him the fuck alone!

Back off!

Tom, you got some balls, I'll give you that.

What the fuck are you doing here, huh?

- Well, it's a charity night, innit?

I thought I'd come here and support my son.

I thought, you know, it'd be reasonable

if we could all put our differences aside

just for one night, eh?

- No, we fucking can't!

- Shut the fuck up!

Now, you gotta leave.

Tom, you gotta leave, please.

- Time to go!

- All right. - Time to go!

♪ Blue skies ♪

♪ No longer by my side ♪

- Yo, fuck this man, I'm off.

- Told you so.

- [Clay] Fuck off, man.

- Let's get the fuck outta here.

(audience booing and chattering)

- Fucking back off!

Back off!

(tense music)

Tom, brother, you gotta, you gotta leave.

Please. Fuck.

- You think that Scargill and the union is gonna save ya?

You just don't get it, do ya?

Just you lot, you're lions,

but you're being led by a fucking donkey.

(Will breathing raggedly)

- Okay, folks.

Think we can say that you have been a wonderful audience.

- Excuse me. My dad thinks you're shit.

(audience members booing)

- Thank you. - Oi, you soft shit.

Get off it.

- [Audience Member] Move!

- We'll see you soon. - Get rid of him.

- Okay, come. Go on.

Okay, come on.

Come on, then, ladies and gentlemen.

We have our main act up in just a moment.

Gwen is still going round with the raffle tickets,

so please don't forget to give generously.

These families need you.

- Make way. My audience is waiting.

- All right then, ladies and gentlemen.

Come on, where are you, you fucking twat?

(chuckles) There he is.

Ah, the moment you've all been waiting for.

Please give a warm welcome to Manic Mike!

(audience cheering)

- Yeah.

(upbeat music)

♪ Went to a party the other night ♪

♪ Me and my girl, we were havin' a fight ♪

♪ She's gone ♪

♪ Yeah, baby, she's gone ♪

♪ Oh, oh, she's gone ♪

♪ Long gone ♪

♪ Oh, my best friend plays kinda rough ♪

♪ Offered her a ride in a pickup truck ♪

♪ She's gone ♪

♪ Yeah, baby, she's gone ♪

♪ My baby she's gone ♪

♪ Long gone ♪

(Clay sighs)

- Fuck.

(Clay sighs)

(somber music)

- Oh my God. What the hell?

- (scoffs) Yeah, I know, right?

Yeah, I think me and the lads

are gonna get out of here for a bit,

somewhere we can all have a chat. (sighs)

And, um, look, Chrissy,

thanks for standing by us and supporting the band.

I really mean that.

- Uh, uh, we're all clear in here.

So let's take off, yeah?

- Yeah, um...

I'll see ya later.

- Bye. (sighs)

(doors thud)

- Vim, take us down to the bay, mate.

Somewhere where we can all chill.

- Mm-hmm.

Yeah, I could use a smoke.

- Yeah, Good idea. I'm up for that.

(rain pattering)

- I think your dad was in that scrap.

- Yeah. Yeah, he was from what I saw.

Stupid old bastard.

(engine rumbling)

(waves lapping)

- That's the last time I'm doing a gig like that, lads,

I'll tell you that.

- Me neither.

Embarrassing.

- But Aisha.

- What?

- [Davey] She was there.

- Oh, not this posh bit of fluff again, mate.

You're doing our heads in with it.

There are bigger issues.

Look at the state of my fuckin' van.

- He's lost his head over her, then, you know that?

- Yeah, you're boring me with it now, Davey.

- Oh, just shut the fuck up!

- I'm sorry about your van.

- You better fuckin' fix it.

- I will. I will.

Bring it down to the shop next week.

I'll sort it.

- Thanks, knob jockey.

(waves lapping) (gentle music)

Here's one for ya.

How do you confuse a miner?

You show him a line of shovels

and tell him to take his pick.

(Davey snorts and laughs)

(group laughs)

- Here. I got one.

What do you get if you drop a piano down a mineshaft?

- I know this, I know this.

Um, a flat miner.

- Oi, oi, oi, oi. Don't steal it.

- Sorry. (group chuckling)

- Oh, what about this? What about this?

What do you call a bloke with two spliffs?

Double jointed.

(group laughs)

- What? - Oh, you twat.

(group laughs)

- What?

- Hey, Ravs, have you got those samosas?

- Yeah. Somewhere.

- Come on.

- [Ravvi] There. I got 'em.

Oh, they're a bit squished.

(Davey scoffs) - Fuck's sake.

- Ah, it don't matter.

Hand 'em over.

Here you go.

What have we got, what have we got?

Oh fuckin' hell, they are squashed.

Oh!

Mm. (chuckles)

(Ravvi coughs)

I bloody love your mum.

- Better watch out, Ravvi.

We know he likes 'em a bit older, eh?

(group laughs) - You!

- Don't say that about my mum.

(Clay laughs)

- Right. I'm gonna go for a lash.

(shells crunching)

- Oh. - These are good.

- Incredible.

- [Vim] Lads, come and have a look at this!

- We don't wanna see your dick, mate.

- Not that, you dickhead, this.

(gentle music) (singer vocalizing)

(footsteps crunching)

I'll say one thing for this shit hole.

(waves lapping)

It's got a pretty view.

- Yeah. (chuckles) I'll never get bored looking at that.

(engine rumbling) (tense music)

(tense music continues)

(door thuds)

- Morning, squire!

- (grunts) Morning, sir.

- I wonder if you'd take a look at my suspension for me.

I bumped a curb earlier and, you know,

just give it a general once over, would ya?

- Yeah, I tell you what, leave it with us,

and I'll get one of the lads to have a look.

- Splendid! Yes, well, I'll leave it with you.

I'm running late for a meeting.

So, look, yeah, the name's Derry.

- No worries.

Like I said, leave it with us.

I'll get one of the lads to have a look

and then we'll give you a call.

- Wonderful, I'll see you later.

Thank you very much. Keys are in.

- No worries, sir.

- That fucker.

- What?

- That were Derry Knight.

- Oh, him?

Looks like he's got a few quid.

- Yeah, some of it ours.

- Well, you can you have a look.

- Oh piss off.

I'm not touchin' the thing.

Until I get my tape, you tell him he can get fucked.

- Just have a look.

- All right, you old rockstar you. (chuckles)

- Where have you been? You're fucking late.

- Yeah, sorry, a mechanical malfunction

with the car, old boy.

Oh, thank you.

- Help yourself. - Don't mind if I do.

But don't let that worry ya.

Here's something for you.

- Okay.

Well look, I've got these demo tapes finally done

for all the bands.

At least they got something to show for their cash.

- Yes, well I actually care not for those, old chum.

You can do what you like with those.

- Hey, look man, this isn't cool

what you're doing, you know?

- Oh, come on!

You're not getting all soft and sentimental

over them, are ya?

They couldn't give a toss about you, mate.

These bands have their own selfish agenda.

- Hey look, man.

(fingers tap)

These bands, they have hopes,

(tapes rattle)

and they have dreams, as did I a very long time ago.

- Oh, bollocks.

- Yeah, well on that note, I am gonna split

'cause I've got a plane to catch.

- Where are you going?

- Anywhere where it's dryer and fucking warmer.

LA perhaps.

New rock scene about to explode over there,

so I'm gonna go and check it out.

So I'll be seeing ya, Derry.

(footsteps thudding)

- Yeah, good luck, old son.

- [Crowd] Clay. Clay.

Clay. Clay.

Clay. Clay.

Clay. Clay.

Clay. Clay.

Clay. Clay.

Clay. Clay.

- Good evening, London!

- [Crowd and Bridget] Clay. Clay.

- [Bridget] Clay? Cup of tea, love.

- Yeah. Go on, then.

(Clay coughs and sniffs)

(tense music)

(rotary dial clicking)

(sighs) Come on, you fat prick, answer the phone.

(phone ringing)

(receiver thuds)

(rotary dial clicking)

Davey. - Yeah.

- Yeah, I think I'm gonna be a little bit late, mate.

I'm gonna putt round the manor house

and see if that fat punk Derry is about.

He's not picking up his phone.

- [Davey] You bloody need to.

- What do you mean?

- [Davey] Derry. Strollin' around in expensive cars, mate.

He was in the garage today.

- Really?

- Yeah, really.

Don't worry about being late, mate.

The fuck have we got to rehearse for anyway?

- Davey, stop.

Mate, we need to kick on, you know that.

I need you, mate.

- [Davey] Yeah, well good luck.

See you in a bit, yeah?

- Yeah. All right, bye.

(receiver thuds) (Clay sighs)

(engine puttering)

(footsteps crunching)

- Hello, mate. Can I help you?

- All right, mate. I'm looking for Derry.

- [Groundskeeper] Derry? Derry who?

- Derry Knight, the owner of this gaff, the producer.

- I think you're mistaken. The owner's away.

But I can tell you this,

the owner of this place is Lord Hawkins, not Derry Knight.

(somber music)

- All right, thanks. Sorry to bother you, mate.

- [Groundskeeper] No trouble.

All right then.

(somber music continues)

Please no. Fuck, fuck!

- Oi! What are you doing?

- Yeah, yeah, all right, mate.

I'm off. - Yeah!

(somber music continues)

(engine sputtering)

(groans) Gimme a fucking break!

(strings humming)

- [Vim] Clay, are you sure you didn't see that bastard?

- I'm tellin' you, mate, the place is cleared out.

Doesn't even own it.

- Well, what about the studio?

- I don't know, Davey.

It's underground. I couldn't tell, all right?

- Shit!

(tense music)

We put everything we fuckin' had into this.

I can't fuckin' believe it.

- Yeah, neither can I, mate.

- What about the money?

- It's gone.

(tense music) (object clatters)

(fist thudding)

- Fuck!

(drum clattering) Fuck! Fuck!

(tense music)

Let me just get this straight, all right?

We have no gigs lined up in London,

we've got no tape, and now we've got no fucking money!

(laughs) Congratulations, boys!

We've wasted our fucking time with this fucking band!

But, hey, nevermind.

Let's all fuck off down to the pub!

- Oh, will you just leave it out? You better-

- Shut the fuck up you Ponzi prick.

I have had enough of your attitude.

I've had it up to fucking here.

- You know what, fuck this.

I'm off.

- Guys! Come on.

So that's it, is it? Eh?

Look, no one said it was gonna be fuckin' easy!

- Oh, will you forget about easy, mate?

Look around ya. The world is fucked.

And all we're doing is sanding around

pissin' on each other's shoes.

Nah. No.

Now we're two grand in the hole

and we're no further forward

than when we fucking started the thing!

Vim's right.

We are wasting our time here, boys.

And I am not gonna be the idiot that this town eats up.

I'm done.

- Just fuck off, then!

You know, you're just like your dad.

Weak and pathetic.

- What did you fucking say to me?

- Go on, then. Come on.

I dare ya.

(somber music)

- You know what, mate?

You, you have a good life.

Fuck!

(Clay breathing heavily)

- You're a bunch of puffs, all of you.

(gentle guitar music)

(dramatic rock music)

(dramatic rock music continues)

(somber rock music)

(rain pattering)

- Out with the Village People again?

- I'm not even gonna respond to that, Aisha.

What? No drinking tonight?

(engine rumbling)

(door thuds)

(engine rumbling)

(bottle thuds)

(footsteps scraping)

(fist pounding)

- I need you.

It's all gone wrong.

The money's gone and I just, I don't know what to do.

- Okay, look at me.

I will make this right.

(tense music)

(tense music continues)

(tense music continues)

- [Dean] Best of luck, fellas.

(tense music continues)

(engine whirring)

(tense music continues)

(gravel crunching)

(tense music continues)

- This looks like a nest of vipers.

Come on, Bartlett.

(knuckles tapping)

(tense music continues)

- Morning, Burt. Long time no see.

- Morning, Joycey.

We're here to see Mr. Derry Knight.

- Okay.

Derry, I think it's for you.

- Shit!

(tense music continues)

- Where does he think he's going?

(doors rattle)

Good Lord.

Oi, stay right where you are. None of you move.

Bartlett, go and get him.

- Yes, guv.

(tense music)

(Derry panting)

(tense music continues) (footsteps thudding)

- (grunts) Oh, fuck sticks.

- [Bartlett] Derry Knight, you're nicked.

- Oh bollocks, copper.

Fuck.

(engine puttering)

(suspenseful music)

(tense music) (waves lapping)

- [Chrissy] How long have you been here?

- I don't know. I lost track of time.

How could I be so deluded?

- [Chrissy] What do you mean?

- I thought I'd finally found a way out

of this place doing what I love.

I may as well have just set a light to that money.

- Don't be so hard on yourself.

You weren't to know.

Everything will be okay.

(gentle music) (waves lapping)

You know, things might not have turned out

the way you planned, but maybe the universe

has a different plan for you.

- Like what?

(gentle music continues) (waves lapping)

(tense drum music)

(dramatic rock music)

♪ Steel of hope burning through his fingers ♪

♪ The stench of coal persistently lingers ♪

♪ That pit in his gut ♪

♪ He knows he's stuck in this rock ♪

♪ Black diamonds in his head ♪

♪ Black diamonds sleeping in his bed ♪

♪ Is he gonna survive ♪

♪ Make it out alive ♪

♪ Strikes and banners ♪

♪ Spades and hammers ♪

♪ Women and children don't you cry ♪

♪ Pain and hunger all around ♪

♪ He's gotta get out of this blackened town ♪

♪ This miner's son is gonna try ♪

♪ Is he gonna survive ♪

♪ Make it out alive ♪

(dramatic rock music)

♪ Is he gonna survive ♪

♪ Make it out alive ♪

♪ Just a miner's son ♪

♪ Just a miner's son ♪

(dramatic rock music)

(lightning cracks) (thunder rumbles)