Original subtitles

In the matter of Sir Arthur Guinness versus the Crown

in the question of election fraud, all rise for the judge.

♪ Honey, if the truth hurts Don't look, it might go away ♪

♪ It's easy to pretend That life is a rosy bouquet ♪

♪ The doors are open wide And the wind blows a bitter cold ♪

♪ Man holds a mystery Someone else holds the key ♪

♪ I know it's a shame, they're the same The answer doesn't have to be ♪

♪ Brewing up a storm ♪

♪ Brewing up inside And his eyes are wild ♪

♪ And it can't go on ♪

♪ He's brewing up a storm ♪

♪ Fire in your eyes, in your head Fire in your ♪

♪ Touch ♪

♪ But I can't shout "fire" 'Cause I love you too much ♪

♪ The race is on The message is in your soul ♪

♪ As a thousand thoughts a second Now explode ♪

♪ Brewing up a storm ♪

♪ Brewing up inside And his eyes are wild ♪

♪ And it can't go on ♪

♪ He's brewing up a storm ♪

♪ Brewing up a storm ♪

♪ Brewing up inside And his eyes are wild ♪

♪ And it can't go on ♪

♪ Da, da da-da, da da-da, da da da-da ♪

♪ Da, da da-da, da da-da, da da da-da ♪

♪ Da, da da-da, da da-da, da da da-da ♪

♪ He's brewing up a storm ♪

Today, this ship came out from a storm and sails on.

Tomorrow, there is a ceremony to mark the expansion of this great brewery,

and however rough the seas,

I will never allow anyone to sink it.

Not even my fucking brother.

Where is my husband?

He had to stay and sign some papers and an affidavit.

Just tell me. Good or bad?

This is Judge Keogh's summation and verdict as I wrote it down.

"This is the verdict as regards charges brought against Sir Arthur Edward Guinness

and others in his pay."

"That they did engage in acts of bribery and corruption

during the recent parliamentary election campaign in Dublin,

leading to Sir Arthur Guinness's apparent victory."

"Apparent"? Shit.

"This verdict certifies that the election result

in favor of Sir Arthur Guinness

is hereby declared to be

void."

Edward will kill him! Fuck.

"I must declare that Sir Arthur Guinness was,

by his agents, guilty of bribery involving a sum of £15,575

paid to secure victory in the election."

"However,

I shall also declare

that Sir Arthur Guinness was not guilty

of any transaction of a corrupt nature himself personally."

That is good, isn't it?

"It has not been proven

that Sir Arthur himself was aware of the payments to said voters."

He then for reasons known only to himself quoted a passage from Paradise Lost.

I need someone to celebrate with, now my husband has slipped the noose.

You will do.

I have business at the brewery.

I'm sure there are others at the brewery who can do your job for you.

Just as there are others

who can do my husband's job for him.

As you wish.

As I wish always.

Begging pardon, Lady Olivia, your violin teacher is here.

Well, tell the endlessly patient Mrs. Cope that

I will practice on my own today.

On your own?

Actually, Lady Olivia,

I myself play the violin to a relatively competent level.

Oh?

You mean you play the fiddle in pubs.

In church.

Then perhaps today, Mr. Rafferty, you can take the lesson instead of Mrs. Cope.

By way of apology,

give Mrs. Cope two jars of the marmalade that I pretend to make myself.

Yes, my lady.

If you play "Bantry Bay,"

it will remind me of home…

and make me cry.

I'm not accustomed to such elegance.

Ignore the elegance.

Handle it like you would handle a fiddle.

You want me to make you cry?

Yes.

I'm tired of laughing at my life.

Thank you.

Your brother is like an eel from the River Liffey,

slipping out of the grasp of justice.

He's been stripped of his seat in Parliament.

If people stop drinking our beer because of this scandal,

all the investment sunk into the expansion will be lost.

What more do you want?

What more do I want?

It is not me who he has left in want.

It is the people of East London and the people of West Africa,

who have no one to minister to them since he stole my inheritance from me.

You can see my condition, Uncle.

I will give birth any day now!

Why have you chosen me to vent your fury on?

Because… I believe, in your heart, you see the justice of my cause.

Of them all, I believe you are the only true Christian.

And I want it to be you who carries my message to the Liffey eel.

Tell him I know deals were done to secure his liberty.

And I know who those deals were done with.

His defense barrister, Isaac Butt.

I'm predicting a predictable absurdity.

The dissolute lawyer who kept him out of jail.

Isaac Butt is the best barrister in Dublin.

A licentious father of 15 children of all denominations

in all the boroughs of the city.

A famous and infamous Fenian.

I know a deal was done with the Home Rule petitioners

to let Arthur Guinness walk free.

Tell the Liffey eel I have him by the gills,

and I will do what is necessary to have him pay penance for his sins!

I hear, sir, that you were personally exonerated.

I heard that news from Lady Olivia, who herself heard it from Mr. Rafferty.

Yes.

I sent Mr. Rafferty here with the good tidings myself.

And after delivering the news, they played violin together.

Lady Olivia and Mr. Rafferty played violin together

in the drawing room to some hilarity.

Good.

Where is Lady Olivia?

Sitting in the orangery, as she loves to do

while others make the marmalade. Where is your hat, sir?

Lost. On the head of some beggar, I imagine.

Mr. Potter,

from now on, there will be no need for you to report to me anything

regarding what Lady Olivia does or doesn't do.

Understood, sir.

And in the future, if any of the other servants hear violins being played,

or any other similar noises…

The servants will not hear those noises.

Good.

And again, congratulations on the day, sir.

I know it's unfashionable, but I hate to be white.

I want to look Spanish.

My grandmother was Spanish.

You heard the verdict?

There is good and bad.

Edward will never forgive me.

I assume, because of your nature, you are emphasizing the bad.

Olivia…

I have just destroyed the reputation of my family.

Perhaps violins might not be the best way to pass the time when I'm away.

Sound

travels through the whole house.

I don't understand.

You sent him to me.

At your silent request, yes.

All he did was teach me a reel, and then he left.

My objection to violins is the noise that they make.

You mean I should do things more quietly?

As part of our arrangement, you will do things quietly, yes.

I've spoken to Potter. He will explain to the household.

I just hate the thought of the maids giggling.

Of course.

-I understand. -No, no.

Nobody fucking understands.

You think you are alone, Arthur.

You're not.

Rafferty played "Bantry Bay,"

and it reminded me of that frozen fucking castle on the shore

that you rescued me from.

Rescued you? Well, I'm your prince?

I hate it when you mock yourself.

You won today because you are a prince.

Baptized with beer, but still a prince.

Why would you regulate or judge yourself

when no one else is in a position to do so?

Mmm.

From now on, I will only make a noise in your causes.

We will do great things together.

Love does not have to be blessed with a fuck.

-Mr. Guinness, sir-- -Not now.

Oh!

Adelaide, goodness.

I am so sorry I kept you.

You didn't keep me. I didn't have an appointment.

You don't need an appointment.

Edward, you have black paint on your face.

-I do? -Yes.

No, no. Don't wipe it. It'll only make it worse.

Come here.

I was helping the painters paint a new sign.

Of course. Which company owner

and… managing director wouldn't help the painters paint a sign?

How is Arthur after today?

Or is Arthur the reason you were helping the painters,

to take your mind off things?

Adelaide, I… I have written to you several times

with invitations to social engagements and received no reply.

And there are those who would see no reply as a very definite response.

I… I have a meeting with my stock department in ten minutes.

This is more important.

And will help you restore your family's reputation.

This is a drawing of how Dublin might look

in a better and more just world.

As co-chair of the newly formed

Iveagh House Guinness Trust Housing Charity…

The… the… the what?

Your sister and I have conceived of a way

of clearing away the slums and rookeries to the north of St. Patrick's Cathedral,

and in their place,

construct 110 redbrick apartments,

built especially for poor families.

Every apartment has a bathroom.

There is a play center for the children of working mothers.

There is also a hostel for unmarried men,

most of whom, one would imagine, will work in your brewery.

There is also, uh, plenty of open space.

Fresh air and pathways where today there are gin houses and brothels.

This is God's work.

Yes.

But God will not pay the bill.

No, you will.

We have estimated a total building cost

of £85,000.

Perhaps a little less if you helped with the painting.

You know, Adelaide, you really don't have to sell anything to me.

Your desire that something should happen is provenance enough.

No. No, you will not consider me in this.

You will make a judgment on the grounds of sound fiscal management.

I am not part of the arrangement.

I will leave these drawings with you. Your sister will show you many others.

You would be helping to change the world one brick at a time,

and you won't even be late for your next meeting.

Oh, Adelaide.

I am taking "no reply"

as "keep trying."

Fuck.

Your correspondence, sir.

Dearest cousin, I have met some fine, ambitious gentlemen

and feel confident that our plan for the conquest of America

is about to set new records.

The future holds much promise

for the international acclaim of the Guinness Brewery.

I have hit on a fine plan to smooth our path once and for all.

Excuse me, gentlemen, can I ask you…

Byron, come on. We have business.

Byron, come on.

Can I ask you, why are you proud Irishmen not drinking Guinness?

You may have noticed, everyone else in New York is drinking it.

'Cause we're drinking whiskey.

You will have seen advertisements for Guinness in bars

from The Battery to the park.

I can tell you this, "beer" is much too small a word for it.

The elixir…

-Hey. -Jesus.

…not only tastes like the morning dew of Ireland,

it also serves to stiffen your erection to the extent that your cock resembles

one of those steel bolts they use to hold together steamships.

And like a steamship,

you will plow on through the storm

of your wife or mistress's passion all fucking night long,

without recourse to call into harbor,

even for a piss.

If the consequence of that bottle you're drinking

is the conception of a child and that child is a boy,

I'd like you to name him Byron.

-After me. -Byron, will you fucking come on?

Byron Hedges,

conquering the United States of America, one Irishman at a time.

Byron, in the hierarchy of the Brotherhood,

I am merely head of policy.

Now, the man that you're about to meet,

he's the head of killing people and disposing of bodies.

So you be on your best behavior

or your next drink will be a mouthful of the Hudson River.

You hear me?

Okay.

Introductions.

Now, I'm only speaking English

because some of our American friends do not have the mother tongue.

But our hearts are pure Irish.

Eamon Dodd

was a captain in the Fighting 69th Fenian regiment

of the bluecoat Union Army during the Civil War.

He won medals for gallantry.

I know who I am.

Who's this?

This is Byron Hedges.

And, gentlemen, can I ask you a question?

If you are indeed proud Irishmen… why are you not drinking Guinness?

What'd he fucking say?

Now, my question's not an irrelevant one.

Byron, our agenda for this meeting is a political one.

And my agenda is also political.

I prefer serious people.

Well… hear me and win, ignore me and lose.

His father was hanged by the British. Hear him out.

There is a family in Dublin who are, um… very, very, very wealthy.

Their name is on those bottles of beer there.

And I've been given the task of representing their gentle sympathies

with regards to certain conflicts past, present, and future.

Anyone translate for this guy?

In plain American…

I know you have plans.

Extensive plans.

Bombs, guns,

even an audacious plan to invade Canada.

And I know they will cost money.

Lots of money.

So,

I have a financial proposition to put before you,

which I would like you to consider.

I have it on good authority that,

were we able to give the Irish Republican Brotherhood

bare 15%…

Fuck!

…on every bottle of Guinness sold in these fine American cities,

rivers of the black stuff will positively flow.

No!

I know we agreed to just offer friendship,

but a little money helps to grease the wheels.

Being a man of fine intelligence,

you will be able to disguise it off as

another charitable donation.

Your devoted servant and brother in arms,

Byron Hedges.

Good evening, Mr. Guinness.

I take it you are here to celebrate making a monkey of the magistrate.

Open the gate.

I'm going to The Angel.

To The Angel. Hm.

Where the angels are.

In their silk robes…

I'm sorry, Mr. Guinness. The Angel is closed.

What do you mean? I can hear the music.

Closed to you is what I mean.

Okay, just stop talking.

Find the key, open the chain, unlock the gate,

and go back to your fucking place by the fire.

I'm afraid you're no longer allowed.

I'm fucking what?!

I believe it's for your own good.

Open the fucking gate, Bonnie.

I have to obey my boss.

Your boss, Rafferty, who obeys his boss, my brother.

Who obeys the Lord, as we all must.

Unlock this fucking gate!

Good night, Mr. Guinness.

I am Sir Arthur Guinness,

and this is my fucking city!

Open this fucking gate!

Get back here!

You have no right, Edward. You have no fucking right!

Edward!

Edward, are you there?

You prim and proper fucker!

I want to propose a board meeting!

Sir Arthur.

I assume I'm still allowed into my own fucking brewery!

I'll get the gate for you, sir.

Well, if you're interested,

there'll soon be some bare-knuckle boxing on the cobbles of the cooperage.

Thank you, sir.

Edward? It's my right to fuck up!

I'm the eldest!

Edward, who the fuck do you…

I could be bounded in a nutshell

and still count myself the king of infinite space,

were it not that I have these bad fucking dreams, Father.

Brother… doesn't tell me anything anymore!

Fuck!

Whoa!

There you are, sir.

Ellen!

Ellen!

I need to ask you something.

Shh!

Get in, quick!

You don't think about fucking neighbors, shouting up at me like that?

I'm not accustomed to worrying about neighbors, but I am being educated.

What are you doing here?

I've no more use for you or your brother now that he's no seat in the Commons.

Well, I have use for you.

And I was hoping that,

even though our previous relations were purely practical,

that there was some measure of feeling between us.

So what is it that you want?

I have an associate in New York who has had dealings with…

Shh!

I'm not allowed men. The landlady's room is right there.

…who has had dealings with someone

who is some sort of commander in the Fenian Brotherhood.

I need to know more about him.

The man my associate met was called Ea--

Eamon Dodd.

Manhattan Battalion commander.

We Fenians write to each other as well.

And the 15% commission on every bottle of Guinness

that your representative has agreed to

is now funding the armed struggle against the British.

I agreed to none of this.

Fuck!

If this scandal breaks, the Guinness name will be ruined.

-I need you to help me. -Shush!

Will you keep your voice down?

-Take off your shoes. -What?

Take off your shoes. We'll go to my room.

There.

Come on.

Shh, sh, sh, sh.

Shh.

What are you doing?

Putting my shoes back on.

Why would you do that?

-I don't know, propriety. -Fuck propriety.

If you put your boots on, they'll hear you walk around. Sit down.

Sit down where?

There's a lot of letters and papers lying about

because I have to come up with a new strategy.

Now that your brother fucked up my previous one

with his train tickets and wardrobes.

My brother fucked up because I didn't keep an eye on him.

It's okay.

This new deal in New York is kind of compensation.

I think we should drink a toast.

To celebrate.

I have Guinness or poitín.

The Guinness is warm, so…

Poitín, then.

To 15% and a free Ireland.

Look, I want you to help me communicate to your friends in New York

there has been a terrible misunderstanding.

At my next rally,

I will declare they've holes in their socks, just like us.

I have a hole?

-You not have maids to sew your socks? -I don't go home much.

They say you sleep in your office.

-Who says? -Our spies in the brewery.

I ask them about you.

Why do you ask them about me?

Ellen! Do you have someone in there?

Go!

-No. -I heard voices.

Well… I was just rehearsing a speech.

You know the rules, Ellen. No cocks in the hen house.

Yes, I know the rules. Good night, Mrs. Pascal.

-Good night. -Good night.

-You have to wait here. -Wait?

-Yeah. -Until when?

She'll be out there like a guard dog, listening,

until she's had enough laudanum to kill the pain in her toes.

Usually not until midnight.

Midnigh--

Then again, why the fuck would you care about me getting thrown out?

You could march down the stairs and say, "Go to hell."

I wouldn't do that. I don't march anywhere.

Besides, I have nowhere else where I have to be.

Edward?

In case no one's told you, I own the place. Leave me alone.

It's okay, Mr. Guinness. I recognize your face.

Mmm.

Yes.

Yes, you may see some similarities between my face and the faces of these

illustrious gentlemen hanging on the wall,

but I'm afraid that's where the similarities end.

Go away. Go away.

Well, I recognize your face, Mr. Guinness.

But you don't recognize mine, do you, Mr. Guinness?

Actually, you recommended me take a job here a few years ago now.

You and I met at The Angel,

down in the docks?

I liked you when we first met.

I think you liked me too.

And it wasn't just for that.

What's your name?

Patrick.

Well, Patrick,

I would really, genuinely like to say

that I remember my act of presumably post-coital philanthropy,

but I'm afraid I don't.

Nights in the docks are as…

dark and impenetrable as a pint of Guinness.

Well…

I can tell you, you were nice to me.

Mmm.

You know, most of the rich half-English, they're harsh,

but everyone said you were nice to everyone.

Maybe you'll get a reward for being nice when you're in heaven, Mr. Guinness.

Or perhaps you'll get a reward now.

Do you mind if I take off my shoes?

My feet are killing me.

You know, Patrick, it's been a very, very odd day.

First Milton,

then Hamlet,

now kismet.

The thing is, if you decide you're not gonna make good on that 15%…

The insanity of it.

…it will not end well for your man, Brian.

Byron, and he's not my fucking man. Except, of course, he is.

If you backtrack, they will kill him for sure.

So why don't you just negotiate the percentage down?

I will not fucking negotiate.

I can hear him now.

-Shh, shhh… -He will laugh.

Talking about your brother again.

He'll say, "You fucked up, Edward. You fucked up worse than me."

You talk about your brother an awful lot.

It's disgusting when it's warm.

How the hell am I gonna tell him?

This is absurd.

What is absurd is there must have been another way for you to find out

what you needed to know about Eamon Dodd

without coming to me.

Yes.

And yet you sprang instantly to my mind.

What is actually

absurd is…

that for some reason…

you spring to my mind

quite often.

And for the same… reason,

or a different, absurd reason, you spring to mine…

quite often.

Even though it's fucking…

Ridiculous, yes.

I'm sure you have some grand lady who you're pursuing.

She does not care to be pursued.

So some girl down the docks would be easy meat

while you take a break in the pursuit of finer fare?

Absolutely. That's who I am. That's exactly why I came.

Look, if I tiptoed, do you think I could get out?

You can try if you want.

I really don't want.

Nor is it what I want, but try if you want.

I lost track of the "wants" and "not wants."

You want me to stay not because of the landlady, just

because that is what you want?

I think so, yes.

Right now, in this moment,

God help me, it is what I want.

♪ Ó Luan dubh an áir ♪

♪ Tháinig suaimhneas ró-bhreá ♪

♪ Is do ghluaiseathair uaimse ♪

♪ Leath-uairín roimh lá ♪

♪ Ag iascaireacht i mbád ♪

♪ I gcontúirt bhur mbá ♪

♪ 'S go mbeidh iarsma na bliana úd ♪

♪ Bhur ndiaidh go bhfaghad bás ♪

Shh! Shh, shh.

Oh good Lord Almighty…

…what it is to be a Guinness.

Keep pushing.

Push now.

-Keep pushing! -Keep going.

Keep pushing.

That's very good. That's it.

Beg your pardon, Mrs. Plunket.

Mr. Plunket has asked me to ask how much longer you'll be,

as he wants to attend the ceremony.

Well, tell Mr. fucking Plunket…

Fuhh--!

With this new expansion, we will be able to produce

over 500,000 hogshead of beer every year.

The brewery now covers 45 acres.

Yes, I know the statistics, Mr. Rafferty.

Fourteen steam locomotives,

50 cargo wagons,

100 miles of track,

five new steam engines doing the work of a thousand men,

meaning that now this is the biggest brewery on earth.

Your brother has done a…

My brother has done a fine job, yes.

-What I mean to say-- -What you mean to say are words.

Words, more words,

obfuscation, apologetic retraction,

a reworking of the plain truth, and at the end of it,

in spite of that plain truth, it'll be me making the speech today,

cutting the ribbon,

not my brother, because of an accident of birth.

Because that is how things are

and always will be.

You could do more, Sir Arthur.

You should.

I've been thinking the same thing, Mr. Rafferty.

A new beginning.

But that would mean my wife would be left alone more.

That is not what I meant.

No. We never say what we mean.

My wife will be here today for the ceremony,

and she won't even look in your direction.

Sir, nothing has occurred.

And she will not be indiscreet, because she was born to this,

born to play these games.

You were not,

and I am depending on you to learn.

Discretion.

I trust you more than any man in Dublin.

After the ceremony,

I have made arrangements that you can escort Olivia home,

and if anything should transpire, I trust you to tell no one.

This is at her request?

You will learn that everything is at her request.

And with your permission?

Permission given. All else remains the same.

Now, I must go and grovel to my brother.

Welcome home, Benjamin. How fares the soldier in London?

The soldier fares well,

and the soldier's wife even better.

Before we left England, I was given news.

I'm expecting a baby.

Ah.

Splendid news.

Brother, I'm sorry I missed your wedding.

I was busy in court being humiliated.

Mm! And, of course, Edward was busy working.

I was working on your behalf.

Indeed. Water, brother.

Bravo. Bravo.

I take no credit.

Mm. The gates of hell have been locked for good.

Ahh. And in my case, here in Dublin,

those gates have been locked for me by someone else.

To which now I give thanks.

Good God! Has peace broken out on the Guinness battlefield?

I'm actually not sure. But I imagine it's only a truce at best.

Where is Aunt Agnes?

We wanted to thank her for bringing us together.

She was delayed at Iveagh House.

Yes, some business involving… one of the cousins.

Christine! Open the door.

Christine, I know you can hear me.

Leave us. Leave us.

I was not invited to the ceremony.

-But I came here anyway. -Christine.

Edward would not let me get into the family carriage

because Benjamin and his wife would be there.

Put the gun down.

I learned that he had married from a newspaper.

Christine, please, put down the gun.

This is a gun I once fetched for him.

With it, he will help me to find peace.

And I will be spared your jurisdiction!

Christine.

Christine, do you hear that?

Anne is giving birth in the east wing.

Giving birth even while you consider death.

Life, Christine.

Think of the things you can do with your life.

You can do good.

Anne and Adelaide have started a… a charitable foundation,

transforming the lives of the poor.

Christine!

Christine, please!

Anne, poor Anne, has learned to type.

I myself am learning to speak Irish so…

so I can talk to poor people.

Of course, we will all wear gloves.

And there will be sherry.

Lots and lots of sherry.

Oh, Christine.

To hell with men and their complications.

Come join the women, yes?

Oh Jesus! Holy fuck!

That's very good. Very good.

Ladies and gentlemen,

welcome to this new era

in the history of the Guinness Brewery.

And welcome to this new extension to our enterprise.

Many people have worked hard to make this become a reality.

But, in truth,

it has been Edward,

my younger brother,

who has steered us through stormy waters,

working tirelessly to bring us to this moment,

where huge new orders are coming in from America.

And my family's reputation for benevolence and good works

is becoming famous around the world.

All thanks to my faultless brother.

Our father would be proud.

And now… behold,

Guinness.

None bigger or better in the whole world.

Meanwhile, I myself have been playing games in the corridors of power,

pursuing a parliamentary seat.

A futile endeavor.

No. No, no. No, please.

And it… it ended in a particularly painful kind of defeat.

But I hereby make a vow

to my brother,

to my wife…

to my father,

myself…

that I will do more.

Indeed, a new beginning.

I now declare that the conquest of the known world

by the rolling barrels of the black stuff is hereby set in motion!

Edward!

Aye!

That all went very well.

And thank you for your kind words. And your words of intent.

I meant it.

But even though all is tranquil,

I'm afraid later, when everyone's gone,

I need to talk to you.

Brother, I need to talk to you about New York.

♪ Today was a pretty shit day ♪

♪ Didn't get much done ♪

♪ And I haven't got much to say ♪

♪ Didn't have much fun ♪

♪ Today was a pretty shit day ♪

♪ I just laid in bed ♪

♪ And I haven't got much to say ♪

♪ I just hate my head ♪

♪ I just hate my head ♪

♪ I just hate my head ♪

♪ I just hate my head ♪

♪ I just hate my head ♪

♪ Choose life ♪

♪ Choose a job ♪

♪ Choose a wife ♪

♪ Choose DIY ♪

♪ Choose your future ♪

♪ Choose your future ♪

♪ Please don't lose her ♪