All language subtitles for Mr.Burton.2025.720p.BluRay.x264.AAC-[YTS.MX]bubulac

German aircraft
carried out a number of attacks

on Great Britain last night.

The raids, which lasted
for several hours,

were scattered over many parts
of the country.

Enemy aircraft have been
reported over towns

on the south coast, the west of England,

the north Midlands and the Northwest,

as well as over the London area.

There are reports from Germany

that our bombers attacked
industrial targets there.

Spring, Mr Burton I had been
thinking to give up on it.

Yes, Ma. Yes, indeed.

Will you be writing this morning?

Certainly, that is my plan.

Oh. Then I shall keep sotto voce.

Do you have everything
you need, Mr Burton?

Yes. Yes, thank you, Ma.

OK

Slowly! Slowly

♪ All things bright and beautiful ♪

♪ All creatures great and small ♪

♪ All things wise and wonderful. ♪

Good morning, Mr Burton.

Good morning, everyone.
Please sit down

I have the results
of your latest endeavours

Dolan. Excellent.

Morgan. Handwriting.

Please don't make me tell you
again. Otherwise, excellent.

Driscoll.

- Where is Mr Driscoll?
- He's sick, sir.

Sick? Well, that explains something.

Uh, Evans?

How many Es in "elementary"?

Uh, three, sir.

"Three, sir." Please try and use all of them.

Otherwise, good.

The rest of you, fair.
Hand them out.

Whose is this?

That's mine, sir.

Jenkins, we may not
judge a book by its cover,

but we cannot judge a book
with no cover at all.

If a national paper shortage

cannot persuade you to look after them,

I shall have to persuade you myself.

Henry V, Prologue, "O for a Muse of Fire".

End of school tomorrow, by heart.

But, sir, it's the Neath game tomorrow.

They made me openside.

Shut up.

End of school tomorrow, prompt.
Find me here.

"O for a Muse of Fire."

What is a muse?

- Anyone?
- A poet's bit of skirt.

In a year and three months' time,

most of you will be in uniform.

Some of you may be asked
to go out and kill,

and may face death yourselves. Why?

Well, I shall tell you. You will be fighting

for what is good and right and beautiful,

and this is the essence
of all those things.

Picture the scene.

Agincourt. On one side,
the English and the Welsh.

King Henry and Fluellen.

And on the other,
a force five times our strength.

The French with their banners
and horses and spears.

"God's arm strike with us!"

"'Tis a fearful odds."

But wait.

Wait.

Then...

a single arrow... flies!

Are you quite sure, Mr Burton?

Please don't come on my account.

In the absence of a theatre, Ma,

there's nowhere I would rather be.

Fine work, Hirth.

Magnificent, Herr Kommandant.

So, the curtain rises on Canada.

Heavy new blows

have fallen on the Italian
navy and merchant fleet

in their home waters,

as well as in the central Mediterranean

and off the coast of North Africa.

Most of the credit
goes to our submarines.

"Then call we this the field of Agincourt

fought on the day of Crispin Crispianus".

If you say so, Mr Burton.

I'd like a word
with your openside, Mr David,

if you don't mind. Just for a moment.

Come on, boys!

Push, push, push! Get it.

Well played.

- What happened to you?
- Mr Burton!

I was expecting you at half past three.

I did wait for you, sir, I did.
- Ah.

Are you suggesting I was late?

Well, it's the truth.

Then you'll know the Prologue, of course.

"O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend

the brightest heaven of invention".

"A kingdom for a stage, princes to act

and monarchs to behold
the swelling scene".

"Then should the warlike Harry,
like himself

assume the port of Mars,
and at his heels,"

- Fine.
- "Leash'd in like hounds,

should famine, sword and fire".

Thank you, Jenkins.

I can do it all, sir.

No, no, that'll do.

Yes, sir.

It's not much of a punishment,
to be honest with you.

I bloody loved it.

I am the ghost of Taibach future.

Come into my arms, little one.

Ah.

- What are you doing here?
- Homework.

Hmm. See you later.

Where the hell have you been again?

Why? What's it to you?

School ended at half past three
this afternoon.

If you think I'm going to spend
the rest of my life

slaving down that blasted hole

so you can have-
- So what?

You're going to throw me out, are you?

Let me tell you.

If your father was less of a drunkard.

Don't you dare.
Don't you bloody dare.

Richie.

Homework?

I brought you some cocoa.

Diolch.

Don't think too badly of him,
Richie. He's worried is all.

His chest.

That's two shifts
he's had to miss this week.

I'll go back to Ponty.
That'd be the best thing.

Dad'll have me. One less mouth
for Elfed to worry about.

Richie, don't be daft.

There's two to a bed in Ponty as it is.

How would you get to school?

Just try to keep your head down a bit.

Do your homework, play your rugby.

Just make something of yourself.

Ah.

One of yours, Mr Burton?

No, Ma, not one of mine.

The BBC have given me
some more production work.

Oh.

Well, perhaps not a bad thing,
just at the moment.

I wonder if it wouldn't do you good

to look outward, for a time.

You are right, Ma, as you ever are.

It is spring, after all.

Still... it is the theatre that I miss.

Hmm.

- There is nothing to replace it.
- No.

Not the wireless, not the cinema.

No.

We used to put on plays
when I was a girl at the YMCA.

Oh, I did love those. It was
such a nice little stage.

Ma, how long
have I lodged here with you?

Twelve years, or fifteen?

And you have never before
told me that you are an actress?

Oh! No, I...

I'm quite sure I was terrible.

Well, you must tell me, who did you play?

Well, oh.

Well, I did play Juliet once.

Ma! I curse the day
that I missed your Juliet!

Oh, Mr Burton.

Aye, anyway, Libretto,
the horse was called, man.

And damn me if he didn't bloody win.

You can say what you like
about gambling, boys,

but I haven't seen more money
in a single place to this day.

Never mind a round. My father
must have bought a drink

for every man in Pontrhydyfen.

So, of course, come stop-tap,

it fell to me to wheel the
bugger back home at the end.

And an heroic climb it was,
I'm telling you.

By the time we reached his gate,

I was blowing like a winded engine.

"Never forget the brakes
on a wheelchair, boys."

Huh?

Oh.

Our little Richie.

Jeanie, get a pint for the boy

and I'll have another one myself.

Well now, bachan, bachan.

That's the kind of interruption I like.

Where was I, then? Aye.

Never forget the brakes on a wheelchair.

There's a lesson for you now.

I stopped for a minute to catch my breath.

The next thing I know,

the old man was careering down the hill,

shouting and screaming

and beating the side of his wheelchair,

"Come on, Libretto! Come on."

"Come on!"

The speed he was going, I tell
you, I shall never forget.

"Come on, Libretto!"

Down Station Road, past Dan-Y-Bont,

and I heard him one last time, "Libretto!"

And whack!

Old Thomas met the pillar
of the aqueduct.

Killed him stone dead.

Bloody true, boys, bloody true!

Oh! Mr Burton. It's on.

Elgar.

George never liked him.
I could never understand it.

George was wrong, Ma.

Simple as that.

No room at the inn.

Still with us, is it?

I expected you would be.

I've got some news for you, I have.

I found you a job.

Elfed, what are you talking about?

One pound eight a week.
Good position. One for life.

He's at school. You know he can't work.

When I was his age, I'd been
working for three years,

six days a week.

But, Elfed...

I can't. Next year, I've got
the School Certificate.

I shan't have this family
falling short any longer.

He's not going down the mine.

No. No, he's not.

A job has come up at the Co-op.

Haberdashery department.

Our naval aircraft
made another successful attack

on a convoy in the Mediterranean.

And they and the RAF
have bombed many objectives

in Sicily and North Africa.

A U-boat has been damaged
and captured

by aircraft of the Coastal
Command and ships of the navy.

Good morning, Mr Burton.

"And summer's lease
hath all too short a date."

Anyone?

- Sonnet 18, sir.
- Sonnet 18. Thank you, Dolan.

Please sit down.

Have we mislaid Mr Jenkins?

Left he has, sir.

Oh, really? I was not informed.

Well, we shall have
to try to survive without him.

A new half-term is upon us

and we must address ourselves
to the Gothic.

In the shape of The Castle of Otranto.

Haunted passageways,
horrid, inexplicable.

No. Not that way.

Dear me, how many times
do I have to show you?

Take both shoulders.

Now lift up the collar
and flatten the lapel.

The lapel. Do you even know
what a lapel is?

Evor.

Has my copy of the Radio Times
been delivered?

- Just this minute, Mr Burton.
- Ah

I'm sorry for the wait.
You know how it is.

Thank you.

Good Lord, look at this lamp!

Quick! Put those lights out!
Get out, all of you!

Close the door! Quick!

Place isn't fit for a dog to be in.

Rather be here than on
the other side of that tunnel.

I know that.

The point is, five men or 50 of us,

I tell you, we're on the edge
of an explosion

that can blow us all to hell!

Production was by PH Burton.

Mr Wales, the chief inspector, I've a...

- Morning, Mr Burton.
- Morning.

Well...

Jenkins. So...

this is where you've been.

Yes, sir.
Can I help you, sir?

Oh, yes.
This, uh... jacket.

A seam needs some attention.

Yes, sir.
Of course, sir.

So, why have you stopped
attending school?

I, um...

Well, I...
Well, circumstances, sir.

At home, see.

I understand.

I must say, it's too bad, sir.

Cos I always liked your lessons,
especially...

I'm still reading your books,
I am. The ones you set.

Which?

Well, Shakespeare, sir.

Well, I'm glad to hear that at least.

You must keep reading, Jenkins.
There's nothing more important.

Thank you.

And, uh... good luck.

I, uh...

I heard your play the other
night, on the wireless.

Oh?

It was fine work, it was.

Well, thank you, Jenkins.

Jenkins.

If you're interested in the theatre,

I have recently started
a dramatic society at the YMCA,

where you'd be very welcome.

You're putting on plays then,
sir, are you? Like at school?

Yes.

You'd be very welcome.
Give it a try.

Ah, yes, that is good, sister,
to think of that.

But, I, uh, I don't want to sell them.

You see, my mother gave
them to me on her deathbed.

Jenkins.

Ah, come in. Come in.

Join us.

Uh, can we get Jenkins a chair?

Welcome.

You auditioning then, are you?

I thought I'd give it a go and see.

So, Jenkins, we're reading
sections of our play,

The Bishop's Candlesticks.

And, uh, well, why don't you
jump right in?

We need someone to play our Convict.

Um, Convict begins on page nine,
is it, Baynham?

Uh, yes, top of page nine, sir.

Now, Jenkins, the Convict is a fugitive.

And he's starving.

And he is armed with a knife

as he comes into the Bishop's house.

Yes, sir.

Don't worry.
Just... just give it a go.

Right. Clock strikes 12.

Bennett, you be our clock.

Dong.

- Let's have some wind.
- Dong.

Of you go.

Dong.

Dong.
Dong.

If you call out, you are a dead man!

But, my friend, as you see, I am reading.

Why should I call out?
Can I... Can I help you in any way?

I want food. I'm starving.

I haven't eaten anything
in three days.

Give me food.
Quickly, quickly, curse you.

Good. Very creditable. First go.

Um, I'm wondering...

If he's desperate, uh...

he doesn't want to be discovered.

Maybe we could try him, uh...

Quieter?

Quieter. Good idea.

If you call out, you are a dead man.

Better.

Thank you, my lovely.

Best be quick about it, mind.

Going to the theatre, I am, see?

My boy's in a drama there.

Acting, is it?

Children in a thousand, I've got.

Break a leg, you two.

It means good luck.

- Here we are, Ma.
- Thank you, Mr Burton.

And, uh, I'll see you after the show.

Right. And the very best of luck.

Oh, I'm not supposed to say that, am I?

We only paid for standing.

My father's coming tonight, he is.

Don't say anything more.
Kiss me and give me your blessing.

I'm going to bed.

If you call out, you're a dead man!

- Line?
- My friend.

My friend, as you see, I am reading.

Why should I call out?
Can I help you in any way?

I want food I'm starving

I haven't eaten anything in three days.

Give me food.
Quickly, curse you!

But, certainly,
my son, you shall have food.

I will ask my sister
for the keys of the cupboard.

Sit down!

I have a wolf inside me

tearing at my entrails.

Tearing me apart.

We thought you was wonderful,
Richie, wonderful!

It weren't so bad, was it?

- Where's Daddy?
- Got held up, I expect.

Right.

Mrs Jenkins?

Mrs James, Mr Burton.

This is my husband, Mr Elfed James

I'm Richie's sister
He lives with us, you see.

- Oh.
- How do you do?

How do you do? Well...
You should be very proud.

Richard excelled himself this evening.

I'm only sorry he's no longer
attending school.

He did love your lessons, Mr Burton.

Always on about them, he was.

Well, if there's anything I can do,

Richard is an intelligent boy.

He could do a lot better
than working in that shop.

I-I-I do understand, these
are hard times for everyone,

but it might be possible to have
him reinstated in school.

I heard the applause.
Bloody marvelous.

Tremendous!

Please excuse me, Mr Burton,
and thank you again.

Thunderous, it was. A mighty roar.

I could hear it out here!

Come on.

"These are hard times for everyone."

I knew what he meant.

Like I've not done
and supported that boy

since he was two years old.

He's willing to give Richie
another chance.

The boy's had chances
up to his eyeballs, man.

I mean, what about us?

What about those who has
to carry him?

He's an important man.

Call that sort a man, do you?

Elfed.

All right. Give me one good
reason why I should help him.

When has he ever helped me?
Or you?

'Cos no one in this family has
ever finished their education.

Not one of us, never.

Elfed.

It's one more year.
Not even that, ten months.

Then he'll be called up to
the forces, like it or not.

You'll never have to support him again.

The boy has to pay his way.

What if I paid my way
and went to school?

I'd believe that when I saw it

I could do it, I could, honest.

I can't stand the Co-op no more, see? I...

I'll do anything, I will.
I promise.

Then prove it.

Ta-ra then.

Good work, you.

See you tomorrow!

I think Jenkins has
a strong case for reassessment.

I believe he shows considerable
intellectual promise.

It's very unusual that
a reinstatement will be awarded.

But it is our job
to assess a child's potential,

not judge him by his past.

Haven't got any old papers
for us, have you?

Let me have a look, now.

Here we are.

Sixty-three papers I got for
you, Edith. Two up on last week.

How much do you want for them, then?

Shilling?

Jenkins has told me that
it is his ambition, long held,

to become a teacher himself.

To give back to the community
that has supported him.

I believe that what Jenkins will gain

from completing his education
will be repaid many times over,

to the benefit of this town
for generations to come.

If you'd like to wait outside,
we can make a decision.

Thank you.

Morning, Mr Burton.

Good morning, everyone.

And, uh, welcome back, Jenkins.

Sir.

Well, well, well, Jenkins on fire watch.

Jolly good.

What are you reading?

- James Joyce it is, sir.
- Oh, yes?

Ah.

Not the best advertisement for
the Irish educational system.

I wanted the chance to...

well, thank you properly, I did.
For getting me back into school.

Just pass your exams.
That's all the thanks I ask.

If there is one thing to be said
for the blackout,

it's the clarity of the skies.

Look. See Mars, setting?

- There's a flicker of red?
- Yeah.

You know...

I once spent a night under
the stars in the Mojave Desert.

The Mojave Desert? In California?

Have you been to Los Angeles?

Did you meet anyone famous?

Well, as a matter of fact, I did.
Um...

Eddie Cantor.

Dorothy Lamour.
- Dorothy Lamour?

We actually became quite friendly.

I was on a theatrical exchange.
Six months' sabbatical.

Mr Burton?

Yes, Jenkins?

There is something I wanted to ask you.

Or-or... you know, tell you,
really, I suppose.

- Oh, yes?
- So I was thinking, see,

that I might...

want to be an actor.

You would like to be an actor?

I know it's not usual,
but I wondered if, you know,

if you thought that I could.

I could do it, sir I know I could.

- Well, if you was to help me.
- If I were to help you.

Ye-...Ye-yes, sir. You know...

If-If you were to help me.

I don't mean to be unkind, Jenkins, but...

it's been a long day.

And all I want for now
is to wonder at the stars,

and for no one to drop
an incendiary on us.

- Thank you, sir.
- Thank you, Mr Burton.

- Thank you, sir.
- Thank you, sir.

Jenkins, have you got a moment?

Are you free this afternoon?

I can be, sir.

Right then, Jenkins. Follow me.

Where are we gonna go then, sir?

"Go", not "gor".

- "Go". Go-go.
- Up there.

Don't throw stones

into lonely holes without
knowing where they're going.

Read that sign for me.

"Please close the gate".

"Gate", not "gairt".

Gate.

"Please close the gate".

"Please close the gate".

Listen to the vowel sounds.

An actor must know how
to extract their full value.

"Please close the gate".

"Please close the gate."

Now.

Please close the gate.

Huh? Oh.

Pitch. Pronunciation. Emphasis.

These are the skills
you must learn to employ.

Are we gonna talk by 'ere
then, sir, are we?

Going. Go-ing.

And, please, Jenkins, the word is "here",

not "by 'ere".

- "H'yere"
- Shorten the vowel. "Here".

H'yere.

Aspirate.

Have you heard Heather Hodder
is here at the hotel,

happily having hysterics? Here.

Here.

And, in answer to your question,
yes, we are.

I don't think Mrs Smith
would appreciate our company

under the circumstances.

Now then. Henry V.

Let us start with the Chorus speech,

with which, of course, you are familiar.

The Chorus is an incantation, as it were.

Your task is simply
to deliver the meaning

of what is, after all,

an unusual form of speech,
Elizabethan blank verse.

Let's hear it.

O for a Muse of fire,

that would ascend the brightest
heaven of invention.

Stop.

That is mostly dreadful.

Right. Stand firm.
Plant your feet.

Shoulders back. Head erect.

Good.

Let's give it another try.

Are you able to hear me?

Yes.

O for a Muse of fire

that would ascend the brightest
heaven of invention.

Are you able to hear that?

Yes.

Good. Now you have a try.

O for a Muse of fire that would ascend.

Stop.

Was I shouting?

No.

Volume, Jenkins,
is of secondary importance.

Distinctness, this is what you must learn.

Now, I would like you to scream,
as loud as you can.

Scream?

Scream.

And again.

Screaming, as with shouting,

is simply moving as much air
out of your lungs as you can,

and straining your vocal cords
to make a sound.

Projection, on the other hand,
filling a theatre,

that is a matter of using
the muscle in your diaphragm,

here, and your lungs, here,

so that you can control
the flow of air, retain clarity,

and make a significant
increase in volume.

Your task, therefore, is to distinguish

between these two things.

So, stay here until nightfall if necessary,

and I will see you in the morning.

First lesson, I believe.

Are you leaving me h'yere?...
Here.

Scream and scream,

until you can find a way for it not to hurt

I know it sounds primitive,
but it will be effective.

Scream.

Louder.

Everything all right up there, is it?

Yes, thank you.

Mah.

Jenkins. Mrs Smith, my landlady.

How do you do?

Jenkins feels that
he would like to be an actor.

Oh, is that a fact?

Your voice is raspy, uncontrolled

and completely lacking in range.

Indeed, we may well be wasting our time.

O for a Muse of fire

that would ascend the brightest
heaven of invention.

My kingdom for a stage, princes to act,

and monarchs to behold
the swelling scene.

Dear me, that voice.

A voice you can work on.
He has a good face.

A good face, and eyes like a cat.

If you want to be a professional actor,

it must be
not because of encouragement

but in spite of discouragement.

You have promise.

But without discipline,
promise will remain unfulfilled.

An old actor once told me that
nobody can play Shakespeare

until he can recite all
six verses of the First Psalm

in a single breath.

"Blessed is the man that walketh
not in the counsel

of the ungodly, nor standeth
in the way of sinners,

nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful,

but his delight is in the law of the Lord,

and in His law
doth he meditate day and night,

and he shall be like a tree
planted by the rivers of water,

that bringeth forth his fruit in his season;

his leaf also shall not wither;

and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper".

Did you know that already?

Not in English, I didn't.

O for a Muse of fire that was.

"The rain comes pittering pattering down,

plippetty, plippetty plop".

"The farmer drives his horse to town,

"clippetty, clippetty clop"
- Richard.

"The rain comes pattering,
horse goes clattering,

"clippetty, clippetty clop"
- Richard! For God sakes, boy!

Don't you see what this teacher is doing?

Well, you wouldn't understand,
would you?

You're an intellectual brute.

Richie.

You...

talking like that, you...

you're not just talking to me, you know.

You're talking it at all of us.

Your sister, your father, your mother...

Everybody you come from.

Look, I...

I'm not so good at the Welsh, I know that.

But I know who I am.

Now, your voice,
that's your birthright, it is.

Your voice.

Oh, I do feel so queer.

Did you put something funny
in the champagne?

Yes. The bubbles.

It took me hours.

Every single little bubble
put in by hand, rather gently.

Don't you think I deserve
just a little reward for that?

Oh, no.

I'm not going to budge
from here until I get that kiss

and I'm sitting very comfortably.

You won my bet? You?

Presumptuous insect! I won it.

What did you throw those
slippers at me for?

Because I wanted to smash your face

I'd like to kill you, you selfish brute.

The creature is nervous, after all.

Ah! Would you? Claws in, you cat.

How dare you show your temper to me?

What's to become of me?

Head back.

That hurt?

No.

No, no, doesn't 'urt.

"Hurt". Aspirate.

What on earth is the matter, Richard?

The show went well.

Yeah, well, now I go back
to Caradoc Street.

There. What is wrong with that?

I'm not much wanted there.

Oh, I hardly believe that.

Your sister dotes on you.

It's Elfed that's the problem.

He hates me. He's crushing me.

Honestly, Mr Burton,
I can't stand it anymore.

I don't know what I'm going to do.

There's no space in my father's house.

There we are.

That should be serviceable
for tomorrow night.

I'd rent a room, if I could find one.

Well, of course,
Mrs Smith has a vacant room.

- I can move in with you!
- Hmm?

I'm quite sure Elfed
and especially your sister

wouldn't want you to.
- Well, could you ask her, Mr Burton?

Well, for me.
Could you? Just ask her.

Dear me, no, I...
I shouldn't have mentioned it.

You see?

When push comes to shove

nobody wants me.

I'm sorry, Richard.

I cannot pretend that
I don't have my misgivings

I've never had a lodger of such an age,

and how can he afford
five shillings a week?

But, I-I-I do have other concerns.

As you know, teaching a young
man here, that is one thing.

But having him living in the house?

It's bound to fuel...

speculation.

Well, you do not need to worry
about me, Ma.

Yes, but I do worry,
all the same, Mr Burton.

Besides, this may be quite academic.

His sister and brother-in-law
may well not agree.

Thank you, Mr James.

Please.

- Good afternoon, Mrs James.
- Hello, Mr Burton.

- Shall I take that for you?
- Coat?

As you know, Richard has asked me

if he might move
a few streets from here

to Mrs Smith's house,
where I currently reside.

But...

I should say at once, however,

I think there are a number of reasons

why this might not be a good idea.

But it was your idea, the boy did tell me.

It is true, that, uh...

unthinkingly, I...
I did mention a vacant room.

So you won't take him on?

I do not wish to imply any lack
of commitment to Richard.

As you know, I have
dedicated a lot of time to him.

Enlisting him in the RAF Cadet Force,

helping him with his schoolwork

and craft of acting.

And, indeed, he has been made
remarkable progress

in all these areas.

We might even consider university.

University?

But to move out of the family home is...

Well, it's a considerable step.

Is he old enough?

Is he responsible enough?

So you would pay his rent?

After long consideration,
I would be prepared to meet...

Then I think you should
take him on, Mr Burton.

Please.

Take him on.

Where is Richard?

Upstairs, he is.

Perhaps we should discuss this
together, in the same room.

Well, I'll go fetch him, then.

Mrs James,

Richard is your son, much more
than he is your brother.

I know how much you love each other.

Please, tell me, what is it
you want me to do?

If you take him, Mr Burton,

it'll be the answer to my prayers.

Hello?

Eight o'clock, Richard.
Ma likes us to be prompt.

All right.

Perhaps you could tidy your bedroom

after breakfast, Richard.

- P'rhaps.
- Per-haps.

Per-haps.

- Enough?
- Hmm.

- Good morning.
- Morning, Ma.

- How did you sleep?
- Like an innocent.

Right No, no, I'm sorry, Richie,

but that that really will not do here.

Right. No.

Use the edge towards you. Right?

No, no, no, no. No, no, no.

Bring it. Bring it to your mouth.

Right? Dear me.

Well!

- Right.
- That's better.

And whatever you do, don't
speak with your mouth full.

Oh, for goodness' sake

I thought I could smell something!

Well...
Sorry, I only have the two pairs, Ma.

Right. Well, honestly,
there's more hole than sock.

Did your mother never think...

It's all right, Ma.

I was only two. I don't remember
anything about her.

Well, it's a good job I'm here.
Myself and Mr Burton.

Right. Well, finish your breakfast,

and then take them off,

and I'll see if I can find
some fresh ones.

- What's that?
- Hmm?

Oh. Nothing.

PH?

Yes?

Do you never get lonely,
living on your own?

A cultured person is never lonely.

"The lips of time
leech to the fountain head".

"Love drips and gathers,

but the fallen blood shall calm her sores".

"And I am dumb to tell a weather's wind

how time has ticked
a heaven round the stars".

- That's wonderful.
- Isn't it, though?

God knows what it means.

Where'd you find it?

Well, I've got PH's library, don't I?

I even have his socks.

You know, Richie...

You're not a bit like I thought you'd be.

How so?

I thought you'd be more, well...

all hands.

You know what I mean.

And you're never.
Not with me.

Yeah, well, that's because
I'm a gentleman.

You do want to though, don't you?

Of course I bloody want to.

Good.

Why on earth would you think I don't?

I dunno. It's nothing.

Richard?

I would like you to repeat
your mathematics paper.

My mathematics?

But, PH, you said it was good.

Good, yes, but, uh...

good is not good enough.

But I want to be an actor, not a professor

Richard.

To be an actor, you will need to
move in certain social spheres,

and, as it happens, the RAF
have a new six-month scholarship

for several cadets
to study at Oxford University.

And my friend, Sir Cyril Cooke,
is in charge.

Oxford?

Oxford, yes.

But, uh... your marks
will need to be excellent.

So, you have an hour, from now,

and if you do not better your mark,

I will set you another.

Yes, PH.

Oh, and Richard?

If you continue to be late
for our appointments,

I may be forced
to reconsider our arrangement.

Do I make myself clear?

Sorry.

I, um...

Uh...

I didn't know you was writing
for the theatre, PH.

Yes.

Although, as you can see,

not to the satisfaction
of HM Tennent Limited.

Well, your work's good enough
for the BBC.

A regional service of the BBC.

I did have a job in London. Well...

The offer of a job, at least.

But then the war broke out.

You mean, you don't want
to be a teacher?

No. Don't misunderstand me.

I believe teaching is a noble profession.

I suppose I didn't think

I'd spend so much of my life doing it.

But the Ministry of Labour

considers my talents, such as they are,

better suited to the classroom
than Broadcasting House.

And thus...

I fell out of step with the London stage.

So, have you written other plays, then?

Too many, perhaps.

So, writing must also be pursued,

in spite of discouragement.

I suppose it must.

PH, no one understands the stage
like you.

I know that for certain.

I mean, your work as a director...

I watch it in wonder. I do.

And if you hadn't been h'yere...

Been here.

Well, I dunno...

We never would have met.

I must show you something.

Now, they are only minor roles,

and there will be fierce competition.

"Emlyn wants Welsh actors."

"Mr Emlyn Williams is looking for

several Welsh actors and actresses

for small parts in his new play".

"Types wanted vary from young
people to character actors"

I could inform him of our interest.

Of-Of your interest.

Emlyn Williams!

I do know Williams a bit.

Thank you.

You should get some sleep.

O for a Muse of fire

that would ascend

the brightest heaven of invention.

A kingdom for a stage, princes to act

and monarchs to behold
the swelling scene.

Then, should the warlike Harry,
like himself,

assume the port of Mars,

and at his heels, leashed in like hounds,

should famine, sword and fire
crouch for employment.

He really is a changed boy
these days, Cyril.

In the ATC, on the fire-watch rota,

and his marks have improved
beyond all recognition.

Well, you know I respect
your judgement, PH.

I will support you, of course.

Although, to be candid,
I do foresee certain problems.

His background, for instance.
He's a miner's son, isn't he?

Not that I have anything against
miners' sons, of course,

but, um, they are hardly the
type that Oxbridge smiles on.

And then...

there is the matter of the surname.

How-How do you mean?

The boy's name is Jenkins.
Yours is Burton.

He lives with you
and it will inevitably lead to questions.

And with competition for
the RAF scholarship so fierce...

Anyhow, best get on.
This war isn't winning itself.

Yes. Yes, of course.
Thank you, Sir Cyril.

Look, PH, I know a man's name
shouldn't hold him back

in this day and age, but...
you know how these things work.

The drops are dripping.

That's Dic Jenkins's boy, that is.

It's not, is it?

Living with that teacher.

- Guess what he's after.
- Yeah.

More tea, PH?

Oh! Yes. Thank you, Richard.

Richard.

We need to discuss your
application for a scholarship

to Oxford University.

Right.

As you know,
this is an enormous opportunity.

And, thankfully,

Sir Cyril has agreed
to support the application.

Lovely.

But there is a a caveat.

He believes that my putting you forward

as a concerned teacher

will raise awkward questions
about your living arrangements.

I see.

For me to put you forward,

and for that to be accepted
without question,

would require me to...

to take legal responsibility for you.

What do you mean, legal?

Adopt me?

Think of this as a means
to an end, a formality, but...

inevitably, this would require you to...

Change my name?

Fine.

Change it.

Right.

Um, in order to do that,

we would need the permission
of your current legal guardian.

Who's that? Is it Cis?

No. I'm afraid not.

Who the bloody hell is this?

It would allow me to go to university.

And perhaps even to Oxford.

I need you to sign it.

"The infant, Richard Walter Jenkins,

shall, from the date hereof,

absolutely renounce and abandon
the surname of the parent,

Richard Walter Jenkins,

and shall bear the surname
of the adopter,

Philip Henry Burton,

and shall be held out to the world

and in all respects treated

"as if he were, in fact,
the child of the adopter."

Well, boy

you need to know.

This won't come for nothing.

Fifty pounds?

And how would you like the notes?

Uh, five-pound notes will be fine.

He's from Scotland, isn't he?

Stay here.

- PH...
- It's for the best.

Hey.

Do you want any more?

I've got another ten.

Well, lad...

Looks like the boys are right.

They said you'd turned into a poofter.

Hmm.

We'll pop this in the post
on the way home.

I, uh... I think I need to take a walk.

Of course.

I-I'll meet you for dinner.

Maybe we'll open a bottle.

Richie?

Ah, there you are.

Thought you'd get me drunk, did you?

Of course not.

I thought, uh, well,
we have things to celebrate.

Do we not? Or mark, at any rate.

Your exam results, and...

Well, all we have achieved together.

Richie. You'll wake up Ma.

I'll shut this door.

Mr Burton?

Do you really think I'm that stupid?

Do you think I don't know
what you're up to?

What-What are you talking about?

You know very well
what I'm talking about.

- Richard...
- Good old PH, eh?

How he, um...

clothed me.

He fed me.

All out of the goodness of his heart.

Richard, let me make you a cup of tea.

It's the worst-kept secret
in fucking Port Talbot!

Richard.

It's been an eventful day.
A long day.

And you... I'm sure you need some sleep.

Do you think I don't know
what it is that you want?

Richard...

I have done everything for you,
everything that you requested,

and I have asked for nothing in return.

Nothing, except to
to see you flourish as an actor.

Yes, perhaps a little gratitude,
but good God...

In a matter of weeks,

you will be auditioning for Daphne Rye.

Daphne Rye!

Perhaps the most influential
casting director in the country.

And she will be paying you
particular attention.

Do you suppose these things
happen by chance?

Or-or-or are you in some way
special? Is that it?

Richard?

Well, is it?

Richie? What on earth are you doing?

Come down, will you?
I need to talk to you.

I am sorry if we disturbed
you last night, Ma.

Well, no, you didn't disturb me.

Let me make you some tea.

I am afraid we may have
to find you a new tenant.

Mr Burton.

I don't want to say that I was
afraid this would happen, because...

I know.

I don't want to speak ill of Richie,

however terribly he's behaved,

because I've become so fond of the boy.

Do you remember
that first play at the YMCA?

Well...

That's how he's been to me,
right from the start.

Scared and haunted, I suppose you'd say.

We could have given him
all the kindness in the world,

and nothing was ever
going to change that, ever.

But to throw it all back at me?

I know.

But who else, Mr Burton?

You must know that.

Who else does he care about so much?

I'm afraid it is a boy we are looking for.

But she could pass
for a boy, Miss Rye, isn't it?

There is a war on, after all.

Yes, Mrs Barron, but it is a boy
we are looking for.

Please, take a seat to the left.

Donald Brown.

Donald Brown?

No? Very well.

Richard Burton?

Stand up straight.

Don't forget to smile.
You already know that.

Ah, yes. You're Philip Burton's boy.

Yes, Miss Rye.

I, um...

I've, uh, I've memorised
the lines you sent.

Carry on, then.

What do I want with stories

when I got the hay to get in?

I 'aven't read a story,
not since I was in bed,

from the stallion throwin' me.

I got to think about other things.

Like girls.

And what is the sky like for tomorrow,

and the taste of a pint.

And girls.

Thank you. May I see your profile?

You can see the other
side too, if you like.

Is it particularly different?

Well, you tell me.

Dear me, you are a bold one, aren't you?

You cannot imagine.

And your availability? You're in the RAF?

I see Philip mentions a scholarship.

Yes. In April, the RAF
are sending me to Oxford.

Exeter College.

Till then, my time is yours.

Stay, and take a seat, if you would.

David Cecil.

- David. Lovely to see you again.
- Nice to see you too.

Did you receive the play?

Marry, then, sweet wag,
when thou art king,

let not us that are squires
of the night's body

be called thieves of the day's beauty.

Thou sayest well,

for the fortune of us
that are the moon's men

doth ebb and flow like the sea,

being governed, as the sea is,
by the moon.

No, Richard...
These are comic scenes.

Can't you make it a little lighter?

Hal is a truant,
a boy who seeks enjoyment

rather than respectability.

As you keep telling me.

So, what exactly are you failing to grasp?

You yourself seek enjoyment,
do you not?

Day and bloody night, as far as I can tell.

Everywhere, in fact,
except here, where it matters.

- It's five o'clock.
- Thank you.

Rich.

That is your last.

Do you understand? You need
to pull yourself together

I am perfectly intact.

You are arseholed.

Again, Richard,
any other actor would give the...

Actors!

Actors!

I fucking hate actors.

Them and their their make-up.

You know, what kind of man
wears make-up? I ask you that.

Give me leave to tell you
once again that at my birth

the front of heaven
was full of fiery shapes.

Here he is.

The English Glendower.

And behold, the Welsh Prince Hall.

The indignity of it.

Mean...

Understudy to the drunken son
of a drunken bloody miner.

What?

It was just a joke, Rich.

Although, let's face it...

Let's face what?

Rich!

Jesus Christ You broke my nose!

- It's just a scratch.
- Oh, Richard, come with me.

At last! I thought
you would never capitulate.

Make sure it doesn't go on my shirt or tie.

Just what the hell is wrong with you?

Four bloody days until opening night

I told Tony you were
the only actor for the part.

And I promised him I would sort you out.

You?

Sort me out?

Nobody can sort me out.

Richard, I do in fact have a limit.

399, Mrs Smith speaking.

Oh, Rich. Richie!

Richie, Richie, what's the matter?

Uh, no, Richie, no Richie,
no, it's terribly late.

It's gone one o'clock,
I couldn't possibly.

No, Richie.
Shh, shh, shh, shh, shh, shh.

Ma.

I'm not at all sure this is a good idea.

I think I should telephone him.

Mr Burton, there's not a cat's
chance that he's awake yet.

He was very much the worse for wear.

But he made it clear
that he needs you, urgently.

- But just to leave like it...
- I shall call by the school

and explain the situation.

Now, Mr Burton,
Richie is your responsibility.

Now, I know that you didn't
part on the best terms,

but the fact remains, this is your duty.

If he needs you, then you must go.

Mr Burton.

Richard.

Ah.

You don't recall, uh...

You spoke to Mrs Smith
on the telephone last night.

Dear God.

I must have been drunk.

Is Ma well, then?

She is in excellent health.

Good.

All right, everyone, we are moving on.

We're going back to
Part I, Act Three, Scene Two

Harry, if I could have you here,
upstage left, and Richard here.

Oh, and the throne will be
down here, downstage right,

with a marvellous white light from above.

All right. Here we are.
The lords have just scattered.

The King, the Prince. Thank you, Harry.

I know not whether God will have it so

for some displeasing service
I have done,

but thou dost in thy passages of life

make me believe
that thou art only marked

for the hot vengeance

and the rod of heaven
to punish my mistreadings.

So please, Your Majesty, I would I could

"quit a" offences, I.

Um...

Could all...

- With as clear...
- No. I have it.

I... I shall.

I shall.

I, uh...

I shall hereafter, my thrice gracious lord,

be more myself.

You skipped an entire page
there, Richard.

We're a matter of days away,
and you're still not off-book.

Yes, I am aware of that.

We will do that again.

Uh, Daphne?

Who is this person
in my rehearsal room?

He's with me, Tony, I'll explain later.

All right, let's get on with it.

Uh, let's pick it up again, from the top.

Harry, please, in your own time.

Richard.

It's been four years
since I was last in Stratford.

I shall go to the Holy Trinity,
pay my respects.

You've visited the grave?

No. Not yet.

So...

What did you think?

Good.

Yes, uh... Interesting.

Do you want to...
- Good.

Good.

Then I'm finished for the day.

Care for one?

No, uh, not for me, thanks.

You see, I am the son of a miner.

At five o'clock, a miner starts drinking.

Of course.

Well, I...

I wish you all the very best with it.

Go on then.

Tell me your thoughts.

Here.

Well, candidly, Richard,
my thoughts are these.

Firstly, you are not a miner,

you're an actor.

You're an actor with three days

to salvage what might be
the opportunity of your career.

The chance to establish yourself
as a classical actor

in the most prestigious theatre
in the world.

Do you not understand
the magnitude of that?

- Somewhat.
- Good.

Then I propose we find some food
and get down to work.

"I know you all, and will awhile uphold

the unyoked humour of your idleness."

"Yet herein will I imitate the sun..."

Try again.

"I know you all,

and will awhile uphold

the unyoked humour of your idleness."

"Yet herein will I imitate the sun."

You understand this character, Richard.

You know that he's not
some thigh-slapping youth.

Yes, Hal is a young man,

but he's always aware of his destiny.

That, on the death of his father,

he will have to turn away
from Falstaff's irreverence

and the drunken life of the tavern.

He will transform into a king,

and, like a king,

lead his country
as a king must, by example.

You must trust your instincts, Richard.

All right, stop! Stop, stop!

I tell you to shout, and you whisper.
I tell you to laugh...

I am not some straight man
to your funny lines.

It is a comic scene.

We're in the tavern, a world of ribaldry.

Look, why don't you try doing it like...

There is no other way I will be doing it.

Richard, I am your director!

And you shall have my performance.
Nobody else's.

Nobody else's? Then what exactly
is he doing here?

Tony Tony, honestly,
I think you should go with it.

I know it's different,
but I think it is working.

Bloody Welsh.

Over the Marches you come,
out of the mountains,

raiding our cattle.
You don't come to contribute.

You're just bloody raiders.

A grammar school boy.

Not a prince. Not a lord.

Three hundred years,

and we're still transported by his words.

Tomorrow, Richie.

Sound trumpets.

Let our bloody colours wave.

And either victory,

or else a grave.

Morning, Rich.

Tim.

Your friend's looking for you.

Your, uh... Your acting coach.

He's not my acting coach.

Well, then, uh...

you know, whoever he is.

I, uh, thought we might discuss
the coronation scene.

I have a six-hour performance.

Of course. Of course, but...

there's a line towards
the end of the scene

which underlines
the scale of the transformation

he's undergone.

I need some air.

Mr Burton?

Would you mind signing this?

Dear me, look at that.

What the hell were they thinking?

Thank you.

You're still here?

Richie?

Yes. What is it?

What do you mean? I...

I have been waiting for you
for nearly two hours.

Yes. And I will be along
when I'm good and ready

Richie, I remind you,
I was summoned here to help you.

I, too, am a busy man.

Do you think you can just turn up...

after eight years?

Eight bloody years and...
A-a-and and have me do your bidding?

Like I'm your schoolboy again?

Richie, I cannot talk here.
Let's go away.

Just who the hell do you think you are?

I am one of the most promising
young actors

in this whole bloody country!

And you?

Remind me.

Who are you?

Oh, Richie!

Oh... Richie!
- Ma.

Oh, it's so wonderful to see you.

I know.

Mr Burton telephoned yesterday

and so I told him
that we'd keep it a surprise.

But he's managed to get me a ticket.

Oh, Richie, you must be so proud.

He said it was all he could do
just to get the one,

what with both of you
working on the play, so...

Yes.

Isn't this a wonderful place?

Mr Burton has told me so much about it

I can't believe I'm really here.

Oh, Richie.

If all the year were playing holidays

to sport would be as tedious as to work.

So when this loose behaviour I throw off,

and pay the debt I never promised.

By how much better than my word I am.

PH?

PH!

I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry.

It's unforgivable what I said.

Unforgivable and entirely untrue.

I was drunk.

Again.

It was no excuse.

I owe you...

everything.

I've never said it to you.

I've never even...

apologised.

So...

So, I thank you and I apologise, now.

Truly, with all my heart.

I'm afraid.

I am. I'm afraid.

I'm not like you.

I'm just a bloody fake.

I'm half an actor.

And I'm jealous and proud
and selfish and spiteful.

And you are everything.

You're strong. Truly, you are.

And this play, PH...

this is everything we worked for.

And I'm terrified.

I'm terrified.

Please.

Help me.

Come back.

I have to go.

Now, Hal, what time of day is it, lad?

Thou...

art so fat-witted with drinking of old sack

that thou hast forgotten
to demand that truly

which thou wouldst truly know.

What a devil hast thou to do
with the time of day?

Unless hours were cups of sack,
and minutes capons,

and clocks the tongues of bawds.

Do not think so; You shall not find it so.

And God forgive them
that so much have swayed.

Your Majesty's good thoughts
away from me.

To tell you that I am your son.

Why doth the crown lie there
upon his pillow,

being so troublesome a bedfellow?

Oh, polished perturbation.

Golden care

that keep'st the ports
of slumber open wide

to many a watchful night.

My King, my Jove,
I speak to thee, my heart.

I know thee not, old man.

Fall to thy prayers.

How ill white hairs
become a fool and a jester.

I have long dreamt of such a kind of man.

But being awaked,

I do despise my dream.

Bravo!

Wonderful, thank you.

Of course.

Richie.

Act Five, Scene Five.

The modulation of your voice, it was...

Well, your stillness, it was really...

Uh, I was really...

Well, I, uh, I have never...

What?

Can a man not hug
his own bloody father?