Original subtitles

'For all its inconveniences,

'Laing was satisfied with life in the high-rise.

'Now that so many of the residents were out of the way, he felt able to relax.

'More in charge of himself.

'Ready to move forward and explore life.

'How and where exactly...'

I see the rot's set in.

'...he had not yet decided.'

Do you fancy a drink? Cosgrove's here.

All, uh... boys together.

'Sometimes he found it difficult not to believe

'they were living in a future that had already taken place.'

Oh, Christ!

Oh, bad luck. Or is it good luck? I can never remember.

Ooh!

So sorry!

I'm so sorry. Sorry.

I'll survive.

I don't doubt it. You're an excellent specimen.

- I thought you were empty. - Um, I... I just moved in.

I'm Charlotte Melville.

Hi. Um, sorry. I... I must have fallen asleep.

- I hope we haven't frightened him off. - So what if we have?

- I say... - Yeah?

Why don't you come up later and have a drink? I'm having a party.

Thanks. I'll try.

- What time do you want us tonight? - Seven sharp.

That reminds me... I haven't given you your birthday present yet.

You know you're not my type.

Besides, shouldn't you be running along to the television studios?

- I'm not their type either. - Come on.

I can't. I haven't drunk enough yet. I don't wanna disappoint them.

- What is Helen feeding you? - Nothing. She's too depressed to cook.

I should have married someone like you. Stoic and perfectly breasted.

You know, I'd dearly like to get

in between those thighs of yours one of these days.

You really are too much sometimes, Wilder.

Am I?

Has something happened

that could cause a build-up of negative energy?

My sister died recently.

- Really? - Yes, of course.

Sorry. It's just people normally lie here and just... lie.

To get an extra ten minutes, you know?

I don't have an extra ten minutes.

All large rubbish bags... No large bags.

Nappies.

- I'm sorry? - They block up the chute.

- I don't have any children, so... - Good. They urinate in the pool.

I'll remember that.

58. Male. Schizophrenic. Myocardial infarction.

Bit of an old tortoise, wasn't he?

Respect shouldn't be set aside

with any perfectly natural feelings of revulsion.

Now, in time, you may specialise in the clinical treatment of mental illness,

research into its origins, development or manifestations.

But, uh, let's start with the nuts and bolts.

As you can see,

the facial mask simply slips off the skull.

Munrow?

Munrow?

You've taken a fall.

So, um...

Yes, I'm afraid I'm not very good at this sort of thing.

- Slotting in, you mean? - Yes.

Uh, I was rather expecting to find a certain kind of anonymity here.

Don't worry.

People don't usually care what happens two floors above or below them.

Good.

Charlotte's different. She's on all sorts of committees.

She said your tenancy application was very Byronic.

Did she really?

Well, I'm determined to get everything right.

- Right. Top-up? - Yes, thank you.

- Which floor are you? - 25. One floor down.

- Tennis? - No, squash, actually.

That's 20, I think.

Why here, not a bachelor pad in town?

An investment in the future, I suppose.

I felt like I needed a clean slate to... put my mark on.

We're down in the bottom, in all sorts of shadows.

Most families are. Real ones, anyway.

You blocked the chute.

- I'm sorry? - This is Steele. He's in teeth.

You don't know how things work around here yet, do you?

Uh, no, but I'm a fast learner.

I'm an orthodontist, not a homosexual.

Good for you.

Steele fixes the children. I'm afraid they eat too many sweets.

Helen's an armchair environmentalist. She cares, that's her thing.

- Have you heard of recycling? - Rec...? No, I haven't.

What she hasn't grasped

is the detrimental effect of all these rotten-toothed little imps.

The women round here would help the planet more

by keeping their legs crossed.

This one's late. Doesn't want to come out.

Mummy, Toby's got a radio set. You have to build it yourself.

- Can I have one? - If you're good.

Is that your wife going into the bathroom with Cosgrove?

Cosgrove reads the news. Have you seen him on TV?

- Uh, no. Um... - He's very good. Very convincing.

Excuse me.

Injustice. My husband can't bear it.

He's been making a documentary about it for years,

but I think he's lost his focus.

- Excuse me. - Hm.

Thank you very much.

'Floor 25.'

Oh, fuck.

Hi, Jean. It's me.

Listen, I'm not gonna come in this morning.

Wait. What about, um... Munrow? Did he turn up for that scan?

OK, good. Well, leave it on my desk if it turns up.

'No, no, I don't need anything. It's all here.'

- Hi. - You didn't buzz.

Was I meant to?

Obviously.

Hi. Hi.

You haven't changed.

I'm sorry. I don't think I can.

Oh, well. Your loss.

Are you the new doctor?

Uh, yeah. Yes, I am. But not the kind you probably need.

If someone's injured, I can call the infirmary.

Mr Royal wants to see you.

Now.

I'm sorry, who?

- This is a very nice lift. - Private.

You won't be needing that.

'Floor 40. Penthouse.'

Terrace.

Ah, Dr Laing.

I hear you play squash.

Yes, I do. You built all this?

Dreamt. Conceived. I hardly rolled my sleeves up.

Course... the project's far from finished.

There'll be five towers in all, circling the lake.

Something like an open hand.

The lake is the palm,

and we stand on the distal phalanx of the index finger.

There.

I've put all my energies into this tower.

I'm its midwife, so to speak.

Hm.

It looks like the unconscious diagram of some kind of psychic event.

- That's good. Can I use that? - By all means.

Of course, I'm a modernist by trade, but... you, a doctor, will understand

one prescribes as required.

That folly out there is for my wife.

Her chief distraction is the careful cultivation

of an intense sort of nostalgia.

For what?

Why delve?

My car was crushed by a reversing cement truck.

I'm afraid I'm not a physiotherapist.

I know what you are, Dr Laing.

Constant exercise is the only thing that keeps the pain at bay.

So you could say not only am I the building's first road casualty

but I am the architect of my own accident.

What do you think of that?

- Is that a horse? - Probably. My wife rides.

On the 40th floor?

This is Simmons, one of my go-betweens.

Uh, yes... we met.

Squash. Friday, 6:00am. Hm?

- Why not? - Mm. Good.

Oh, Laing.

My wife's giving a thing the day after tomorrow.

Be full of the sort of people you should know

if you're gonna get the measure of the place.

Thank you.

Why is there never a damn switch for what I need?

I hope you're here to fix this.

I'm sorry?

Well, I... I thought this was in a museum.

Well, you were wrong, weren't you?

Here, let me try.

Sorry about that.

It's... It's inoperable, I'm afraid.

Doctor. This way.

Excuse me.

Royal likes you. It's unusual.

Do you know, he hasn't left his penthouse since the accident.

You seem to know everyone.

But everyone thinks they know me.

That's the trick.

There's a rigid social hierarchy here, whether Royal likes it or not.

Can you write me a script for sleeping pills?

No.

Then tell me how your sister died.

How do you know that?

Walls have ears.

I suppose I look like her.

You don't have to tell me anything. I only really want to talk about myself.

There's a brothel somewhere in the building.

I can find out for you if you'd like.

- Charlotte? - Darling?

Charlotte?

Hi. This is Toby, my son.

- Hi. - Where's Laura?

Sorry. Just, uh, warming the milk.

- Doesn't matter. I'm going out. - I don't need a baby-sitter.

You need to go to sleep or you'll be tired for school in the morning.

- I don't want to go to school. - Of course you don't.

We all have to do things we don't want to do. It's what growing up's all about.

Isn't that right, Robert?

Yeah. Yep.

Sweet dreams.

- Batteries. - I haven't forgotten.

Come on, you.

He's smart as a whip.

I call him the little professor. He hates it.

Hm...

Uh, you're going?

I... I thought we were... I thought we were doing this.

We've done it.

Do you know, you look much better without your clothes on?

You're lucky. Not many people do.

Fascist pig!

'Welcome to the 15th-floor market.

'Today we have a special offer on French bread and French fromage.

'Thank you for shopping on floor 15.'

Would you like an autograph?

Actually, I was looking for the Riesling.

Ça coûte combien pour cette bouteille de vin, s'il vous plaît?

- What? - Grand-mère.

Should I know that woman?

That's Jane Sheridan. The actress.

She doesn't need all that stuff. She just likes spending money.

She's preparing for a new role.

She's going to play a desperately sad actress

who lives alone in an apartment block.

Keep the change.

There isn't any.

Munrow. Banking.

Pangbourne. Gynaecology.

My son's pursuing medicine.

Amongst other things, I should hope.

That's him. He's quite reassuring, but rather cold hands.

Your husband appears intent on colonising the sky, Mrs Royal.

And who can blame him,

when you look at what's going on down at street level?

The German press say he's a genius.

- Ha! Germans. - Hm.

We're award-winning. You can't argue with that.

Munrow.

You feeling better?

Oh, you.

- Did you invite him? - Of course not.

No, Royal did, actually. I hope you don't mind.

Must be one of his funny little social experiments.

What have you come as?

A dilettante?

Champagne, sir?

Yeah, thanks.

I wouldn't take it personally, sir.

- No? - No.

I've seen you at the gym, haven't I?

Yeah.

You set a very good pace.

So do you.

Well, it takes a certain determination to row against the current.

Yes, it does.

Ah, Simmons, how are you?

- Excuse me. - Won't be needing that.

Cheap bastard.

More?

So how long were you stuck?

Not long, in the scheme of things.

Teething problems. Building's still settling.

Still... I hear all the floors from the first to the 12th

were out of power for several hours.

Yeah. Probably more fun in that lift than at Ann's party.

I must apologise for my wife.

She was brought up in the insulation of a large country house.

She feels a constant need to re-establish herself on the top rung.

We toy with each other.

Not sexually, of course.

By the way, I hear you're fucking 374.

Her name is Charlotte Melville.

Yeah, Charlotte. That's right.

She has quite a tight cunt, as I recall.

Believe me... I understand.

At your age, straightforward biological reason supervenes.

But some of the people who live here, you've seen them,

the vanguard of the well-to-do.

They've fitted themselves so tightly into their slots that...

they no longer have room to escape themselves.

Slots designed by you.

I know.

I'd conceived this building to be a crucible for change.

I must have missed some vital element.

What are you going to do about it?

There are women on my floor with babies

and they can't even boil a kettle so they can sterilise their babies' bottles.

Look... Look! If you lower people overload the system, there'll be cuts.

Who are you calling people?

I commend your bravery, old son, but don't push it.

You know very well that's not what we were sold.

I know for a fact that you're in arrears with your service payments, Mr Wilder.

You're hardly in a position to take the moral high ground.

- Tell him. - No.

Go on!

My daughter was interfered with in the dark.

She's certain it was someone from the top.

He was wearing expensive cologne

and stuffed a copy of the Financial Times in her mouth.

We pay the same charges as the top floors.

We want our fair share of the power.

Now you pull your finger out or I'll take it above your head!

I think you've made your point, Wilder.

Hey, wait. Why don't you just hold on a minute there?

Where the bloody hell do you think you're going?

The service lift's out. I've gotta come up front.

White wine. Thank God.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Oi, oi.

If you're thinking of taking your grievances to the top,

I doubt you'll find much sympathy.

You've met the architect?

Hovers over the place like a fucking albatross.

One should pity him, really.

Oh, one should, should one?

Very magnanimous of you, I'm sure.

Listen, you couldn't give me a lift to the television studios, could you?

No, I'm sorry, um...

I can't seem to remember where I left my car.

Funny. Neither can I.

Why don't we have to go to school?

I don't know. I'll think of something.

You don't want Mummy to be lonely, do you?

That's not how you spell "arse", darling.

Rioting, which broke out on Tuesday

after prisoners refused to return to their cells,

has escalated significantly according to prison...

'I'm sorry. It can't go on.'

- 'But it was you that pursued me.' - 'It's over! Do you hear me?'

Oh, you're better.

Munrow's scan. He's absolutely fine.

He's uncommonly arrogant. He needs bringing down a peg or two.

He's young.

Jean, please.

How's the high life?

Prone to fits of mania, narcissism and power failure.

Hm. Sounds an interesting case. Right up your street.

Possibly.

So, what's your final decision? Everyone else has submitted.

It's only you who's procrastinating, as usual.

Cheese and pickle.

Thank you, Jean.

Munrow. A word, please.

Just a minute, Laing. Look, so I'll see you tomorrow. OK.

Perfect.

'Funny us living in the same building.'

We're just below Royal. Where are you?

You took a tumble the other day and we sent you for a scan.

Yes, it was unnecessary fuss. I hadn't eaten.

I'm afraid we might have found something.

What do you mean, something?

My father's not gonna like this.

Wa-hey!

Come on, darling! Chop-chop! Half a league onward!

- What are you in again? - Sound.

Just got back from Tanzania. Recording the mating cry of the baboon.

Awful bloody things. They throw shit at you.

That's it.

An object that is in motion will not change its velocity

unless an external force acts upon it.

I've no qualms about the invasion of my privacy by government agencies

or data-processing organisations.

All I want is my fair share of the electricity

so I can turn a damned light on and ensure I've wiped my backside properly.

Teething problems, Wilder. The building's still settling.

Oh. That what Herr Royal told you, was it?

The fact is, we're all bio-robots now.

None of us can live without the equipment we surround ourselves with.

- Cameras, cars, telephones. - Exactly.

- Thank you, Helen, very much. - I wanna go home.

I suspect Laing here has been charged with disseminating propaganda

amongst the lower orders.

The dangling carrot of friendship and approval.

Look, Toby, try to fit in, alright? You want people to like you, don't you?

The children were turned away from the swimming pool this morning

- for being too noisy. - Under whose authority?

Our lives are too messy, Richard.

Successful people don't want to be reminded that things can go wrong.

Is that right, Laing?

Are we the ones letting the building down?

I think any sensible person would envy what you have here.

Well... I won't have my children humiliated.

We'll start a parents' action group.

- Here we go. - Who wants to go swimming?

Right, come on.

I don't have costumes for all these children.

I don't even know if they can all swim.

I'm not a parent, but I am a psychiatrist. Will that do?

The more the merrier. Come on, no time like the present! Come on, kids!

Swimming pool! Swimming pool! Swimming pool! Swimming pool!

One thing's for sure, this building's nowhere near as homogenous

as someone would like to think.

- You're absolutely right about that. - I'll see you later.

Bye.

Swimming pool! Swimming pool! Swimming pool! Swimming pool!

Swimming pool! Swimming pool!

Is it always like this here?

Yes.

Swimming pool! Swimming pool!

Swimming pool!

Why haven't you got a wife?

Why haven't you got a father?

I'm so sorry. I... I didn't mean to say that out loud.

Sorry, Toby. Come on, let's clear this up.

- Laura said your family's all dead. - What?

Did you kill them?

No. No, Toby, I didn't.

What does it feel like to be the last one?

You know, Toby, um...

...when I was your age, I was always covered in something.

Mud.

Jam. Failure.

My father would never associate with anything dirty... or real.

My father's up there.

- You mean he's in heaven? - Heaven's not real, stupid.

You should've gone with him.

I'm gonna take Toby home.

I think I've forgotten how to sleep.

You know, everyone's in terrible debt like us, I'm certain.

They're just better at hiding it.

Perhaps I can help.

Fuck's sake. Come on, Toby, let's take the stairs.

Swimming pool! Swimming pool!

Guys, guys, it's closed.

Daiquiri for the screen siren.

- There's nothing there. - Are you blind as well as stupid?

Look in my ear and tell me what you see.

Our party, our rules!

- Mind if we join you? - Yes, we do.

Share and share alike, Janie.

Last one in's a big fat sissy!

- I shouldn't really. - No, you shouldn't.

It's undercooked. Send it back.

If it isn't the social climber.

She got you baby-sitting now, has she?

Hold your horses. That staircase is closed.

Don't be absurd.

Well, we'll... just have to make our own entertainment.

Won't we?

Come on, crack a smile, why don't you? Scared your mascara will run?

You'll never work in television again, I'll make damn sure of that.

No children allowed!

Why didn't you punch him?

Good question.

What's happening?

Have you seen Laura? She's supposed to be baby-sitting.

Uh, no.

I'm going to the pool.

- Give me that fucking candle. - Who was that?

Out of my way.

Munrow, know of a decent party we can crash?

Out of my way!

Pity.

An animal like this should be strong enough to swim for hours.

It was like a child to her.

Pathetic, really.

Where did you sneak off to?

Oh, well, the chlorine doesn't agree with my eczema.

Well, don't do it again. It reflects badly on a man's character.

- Give me that. - Whoa.

Kids' parties always put me on fucking edge.

Now we're getting somewhere.

Eeny, meeny, miny...

moe.

Oh, oops-a-daisy, you seem to have fallen off your tuffet.

My hero. Save me from myself.

Get your hands off her, you cocky bastard.

I may be a bastard, madam, but I'm a polite bastard.

- She's out of your league. - What about you, Sonny Jim?

Lover boy. Twinkle toes. Are you in my league, by any chance, hmm?

Come on. Show the lady what you're made of, hmm?

Oh, dear, dear. That's not a good start, is it?

Shall we try again, hmm?

Try using your fists this time. It's traditional.

Oh-ho-ho-ho!

Hm. Hm?

Should we do something?

Well, um, that's a matter of opinion,

and there's a school of thought, you know, that says we shouldn't.

Um, you know, it could do more harm than good.

Huh? Sonny Jim, huh?

Wilder, stop it.

- What do you think of Laing? - Well, he's hiding in plain sight.

- It's not a bad party, is it, huh? - There is something about him.

Come on.

Oh, yeah!

You can cross him off your waiting list.

He won't be needing a head doctor any time soon.

No, he won't.

No.

So who do you want me to blame?

Suicide.

Yeah.

God, I feel sorry for his mother.

I'm sure his people are taking care of everything.

What's in all of these boxes anyway?

Sex and paranoia.

What did you say?

Nothing.

- Shall we get some air? - Is that your sister?

Probably.

Did you get any sleep?

Not really. You?

No.

Talbot's right.

It's as if everyone suddenly silently decided to cross some line.

- Be worse tonight. - It's not that bad, surely. Can't be.

Are you sure you're a doctor?

Of course I am. What else would I be?

Ugh.

Laing!

Listen, I've got an idea. A solid one.

I need an introduction to the architect.

I'm gonna make a documentary about this place.

That young man Munrow, you know, the one who died last night,

he'll make a good starting point.

I mean, doesn't it seem odd, Laing,

that a man can fall from the 39th floor and not one police car turn up?

Where's the investigation, Laing? I mean, where's the sirens?

Laing!

Christ!

- Who was that? - Wilder.

What did he want? Why didn't he come in?

I don't know. Some scheme.

I'd steer clear of him for a while.

Of Wilder? Don't be absurd.

He went a bit overboard with Simmons, but really he wouldn't hurt a fly.

What about a dog?

It's rude to spy, Toby.

- Leave him be. He's not doing any harm. - I wouldn't if I were you.

What have you got there?

- A kaleidoscope. - Ah!

- What can you see through that thing? - The future.

And what do you want to be in that future of yours?

An engine driver? An astronaut?

- I wanna be better than you. - Oh, for God's sake, Toby.

He's quite right. I should go and change.

Simmons is right. Wilder is nothing but an unconscionable fucking reprobate.

He's symptomatic, isn't he?

The whole place obviously needs a... a firmer hand.

There's no food left. Only the dog's.

And Mrs Hillman is refusing to clean

unless I pay her what I apparently owe her.

Like all poor people, she's obsessed with money.

Yes.

You know, we can't have a repeat of last night.

We've got to show the lower floors

that we can throw a better party than them.

Well, healthy competition is the basis of a modern thriving economy.

But you're right, we must prevail.

Right, first things first.

We must commandeer all necessary resources.

Simmons? List.

Booze.

- Canapés. - Hm...

Cocktail onions.

- Other suggestions? - Cake?

Are we talking about a raiding party, then?

Not so harsh.

Although I think we should be prepared to meet... moderate resistance.

Ah, Royal. Just the man.

You still hold the key to the building.

Symbolically, at least.

We'd like you to lead a delegation.

Where to? The United Nations?

The supermarket.

Richard? Is that you?

It's alright. Go back to sleep.

What are you doing?

I'm starting a new project.

Another prison documentary?

- Richard? - What?

You shouldn't leave me alone like that.

I love you, but I don't trust you.

I don't think I ever have. Isn't that sad?

You're not alone. You've got the children.

Things would be better if we could afford to move to a higher floor.

It's the light I envy them up there.

Stop torturing yourself.

You're perfectly happy.

Try and be more like Charlotte.

Less giving, you mean?

- At least leave me some money. - There's money on the table.

Get in.

Excuse me, please. Excuse me.

Get out of my way!

Residuum.

Some of these people generate the most unusual garbage.

Objects that could well be of interest to the vice squad.

Look... I don't know anything about it.

I don't know what caused it.

And I didn't do it.

We're on the same level. That's all that counts now.

At least until all of this blows over.

Restrain that intruder! There, look. What we need is a good sturdy chain!

- What are you doing? - I'm packing to leave. What do you think?

Has anyone actually made a formal complaint to the owners?

We are the owners.

Pass me that green thing. Daddy likes to see me in it.

You're not going anywhere. I forbid it.

Well...

That's the first time he's touched me in... six months?

Simmons!

Simmons!

What's wrong? Poor little chap.

Row, row, row your boat gently down the stream

Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream

Row, row, row your boat gently down the stream

Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream

Row, row, row your boat gently down the stream

If you see a crocodile, don't forget to scream

What about him?

I think he knows his place.

Good God. What do they look like?

You know, I've never been in one of these. What does one do exactly?

- Hunt and gather, of course. - Gather what, exactly?

'Welcome to the 15th-floor market.

'We have a sp... on French bread and French fromage.

'Thank you for shopping on floor 15...'

Talbot! Where the hell are you hiding, man?

...noble savage and more our un-innocent post-Freudian selves.

Perhaps they resent never having had the chance to become perverse,

outraged by all that overindulgent toilet training.

- Uh, queue's back here, pal. - Bonjour, Monsieur Wilder.

- Comment allez- vous aujourd'hui? - Good. Working.

Need to get to the top.

This money's yours if you can point me in the direction of the service lift.

Oh, hello, girls. Out on a spree, are we?

That's Wilder!

Yes, I recognise you from the foyer. Sort of an agitator type.

Bet you wish you'd gone to the back of the bloody queue now!

Obviously a far more dangerous mix

than anything our Victorian forebears had to cope with anyway.

That's it!

- Excuse me. Let me through, please. - Hold on. What have you got?

Let me through. Don't touch that. I wouldn't do that if I were you.

Let me through. It's my paint.

Get off that. It's mine. It's mine!

It's my paint!

You really smashed him up. I think you burst his eyeball.

Misogynist!

Talbot?

He's expecting us. I wonder where he is.

Don't think you can count on the Geneva bloody Convention

to get you out of this one, you long-haired poofter.

Room for two more?

I haven't got any money. Will this do?

Look after your brother.

Why? You made him.

Is it the bun?

- When are you coming back? - Soon.

Are you freaking out?

Kiss.

Helen. Come in, come in. Please.

It's so nice to see you.

Listen... you must give me your opinion.

I think I've finally found the right tone.

What do you think?

'And now the shipping forecast issued by the Met Office

'at 2343 on Saturday the 18th.

'There are warnings of gales in all areas except Trafalgar.

'The general synopsis at 1800: low at 200 miles south of Iceland...'

Simmons.

- Where's my wife? - I don't know.

Well, who invited all these people?

They invited themselves.

You can't hide up here forever.

You'll have to go down there and save her.

He's right.

She could get herself killed. Or worse.

Unless that's what you want.

You... are fired.

I don't work for you.

I work for the building.

'Fisher, south-westerly, veering westerly,

'6 to gale 8, perhaps severe gale 9 later.

'Rain then wintry showers, moderate or poor, becoming good.

'German Bight and Humber...'

Come on. Come, come, come.

Et tu, Digby?

Right...

Which one of you bastards is going to fuck me up the arse?

'...rain at times, moderate or poor, becoming good.

'Biscay, south-westerly, 6 to gale 8,

'occasional rain, moderate or poor.'

Coming.

- What floor are you on? - Uh, this one.

What are you doing?

Richard Wilder.

It's a real pleasure, Mr Wilder.

I'd watch out if I were you.

There's some very unhappy bunnies bouncing about.

Hello?

- White. - Mr Royal. Everything alright, sir?

Perfectly.

Bit of a mess in there, isn't it?

Oh, you know, nothing that can't be swept under the rug.

Enough!

Kill you. Go on, all of you!

You've had quite enough fun at my wife's expense.

So... if you will excuse us.

We have guests waiting upstairs.

- Guests? - Yes. Come on.

Yes. Silly old me.

Thank you, darling. I don't know what I would've done without you.

Thank you.

Leave me alone! Leave me alone!

I won't be ignored! Tell me about the architect.

Senior side down!

I won't be ignored.

Now, you work for the Royals. You must have a way into the penthouse.

If I give you the key, will you get my money?

Money? Of course.

If you really wanna know about Anthony Royal,

you'll have to talk to that tart on 26 with that poor little bastard of his.

- Charlotte Melville? - That's her.

To sweethearts and wives. May they never meet.

I suppose you're a good boy really, aren't you?

Big enough to come and go as you please.

Big enough to have your own key.

What are you doing?

I want to see you, just once, properly.

Please don't.

I'm nearly perfectly happy just as I am.

Probably for the first time.

Well... Charlotte's right about one thing.

You are definitely the best amenity in the building.

Bugger off, you little shit!

Or I'll pull your teeth out through your ears and use them for buttons!

Fuck!

- What's this? - It's alright, Steele.

Are you sure? It could be worth something.

I've heard people are bartering wives for food on other floors.

I'm not that hungry.

'Charlotte's right about one thing.

'You are definitely the best amenity in the building.'

'My name is Richard Wilder.'

My name is Richard Wilder!

'My name is Richard Wilder.'

My name... is Richard Wilder!

Richard Wilder!

Wilder?

What are you doing here? How did you get in?

I thought you'd be downstairs manning the barricades.

I only came to get the last of the supplies, but I see you found them.

Get off.

I know why I'm not your type.

Don't be so silly.

Oh, God. It's not just you. It's everyone.

Fibber.

Let go!

I know about you. I know about the architect.

I know about Toby.

You don't know anything.

Quite the little building project, isn't he, our Toby?

The little professor.

Power will be restored tomorrow.

The day after, at the latest.

I'll help you with your stupid documentary then.

But now...

I'm going back to the party. OK?

Oh... I think you've had enough excitement for one day.

Richard, stop it. Stop it!

No!

No! No!

Let me go, please.

Let me go!

Please!

'What are you doing in there?'

# Where are those happy days

# They seem so hard to find

'What are you doing?'

# I tried to reach for you but you have closed your mind

'What are you doing in there?'

# Whatever happened to our love

'What do you all do while I'm at work?'

# I wish I understood

# It used to be so nice

# It used to be so good

# So when you're near me, darling

# Can't you hear me? SOS

# The love you gave me

# Nothing else can save me

# SOS

# When you're gone

# How can I even try to go on?

# When you're gone

# Though I try, how can I carry on?

Morning.

# You seemed so far away

# Though you were standing near

# You made me feel alive

# But something died, I fear

# I really tried to make it out

# I wish I understood

# What happened to our love?

# It used to be so good

# So when you're near me, darling

# Can't you hear me? SOS

# The love you gave me

# Nothing else can save me

# SOS

# When you're gone

# How can I even try to go on?

# When you're gone

# Though I try, how can I carry on? #

Now he's raping people he's not supposed to.

And to top it all, Mercer here says he actually shat in his attaché case.

Hm. Seems Richard Wilder is certainly a maverick.

A barrister, aren't you, Mercer?

Retired, but it's...

Still, it's the principle.

And I suppose you believe that there should be unspoken rules, hm?

- Even for this sort of thing? - Quite.

Simmons has come up with a workable solution.

We get Laing...

to lobotomise Wilder.

You can't be serious.

It's an interesting thought.

- For the good of the building, you mean? - If you like.

Shouldn't be too difficult. We've already made contact with Laing.

He insists on carrying out a psychological evaluation first.

Humour him, then.

There's bound to be something we can give Laing in exchange.

I'd imagine he wants to be left alone.

Nevertheless, you're all forgetting one small point.

This is my party. You're all my guests.

I shall be the one who decides if someone is lobotomised.

You should thank us!

You're the one he really wants!

What?

After all, you stole his wife.

I what?

Certainly looks like that on paper.

Where is Wilder's wife now?

Broom cupboard.

Oh, perfect. We've got a vacancy for a cleaner, haven't we?

Yeah, right... anyone going to work?

Cosgrove. Most have taken leave.

Well, quite right. The real work is here.

Once we've dispensed with the likes of Wilder,

we play the lower people off against each other.

In short, Balkanise the central section.

Then begin colonisation of the entire building.

Then, I propose that Royal here draw up plans

to remodel the lower floors.

Ooh.

Yes, a driving range. Cricket nets. Clubhouse.

Ah, what about the horse?

- What about the horse? - We're gonna eat it.

Dinner parties don't grow on trees, darling.

- French do it all the time. - Motion's carried.

Meeting adjourned. Wouldn't say no to a Bloody Mary.

I'll have the kitchen look into it.

- Who is the kitchen? - The wives are rotating.

Ah.

Still enjoying the party, darling?

Fucking Christ.

Cosgrove really is... quite convincing.

What are you doing? I... How fucking dare you?

Laing.

Funny...

I was just thinking about you.

I was just about to leave. Come in.

How are things?

Comme ci, comme ça.

Have you seen Helen?

No.

I'm no good without her.

She shouldn't leave me alone. It's this place.

Won't let me find my equilibrium.

I thought I was cut out for it, but...

I'm not.

Living in a high-rise requires a special type of behaviour.

Acquiescent.

Restrained.

Perhaps even slightly mad.

The ones who are the real danger are the self-contained types like you.

Impervious to the psychological pressures of high-rise life.

Professionally detached.

Thriving, like an advanced species in the neutral atmosphere.

I'm sorry you think that.

No, you're not.

Perhaps you're right.

This might help.

You won't be needing that.

Come on, chop-chop.

Ah, Laing.

Good of you to join us.

- He won't do it. - Oh.

Well, you should probably reconsider that.

It's not possible, I'm afraid. I will not lobotomise Richard Wilder.

He's possibly the sanest man in the building.

Well, it's... flying school for you, I'm afraid, chum.

- Can I have his tie? - If you must.

- That's Savile Row, innit? - Yes!

Pangbourne!

What, Royal? I'm in the middle of something.

You can't put him over the edge. He owes me a game of squash.

- I insist you stop this at once. - No!

Alright, let him go.

Get... Get out of my way!

I'm having that tie... one way or another.

That's it. That's it.

'Ever thought of leaving the nest yourself?'

I was the first to arrive.

I shall be the last to leave.

You recall us speaking about my hopes

for the building to be a crucible for change?

Of course.

Well, all this has made me realise something quite fundamental.

It wasn't that I left an element out.

It was that I put too many in.

And now the building's failure

has offered those people

the beginnings of a means of escape to a new life.

Hm.

Who knows?

Perhaps it will become a paradigm for future developments.

And you... have you settled?

I believe so. Mm.

Impressions?

Well, the lights,

fire like... neurons in a great brain.

'The lifts seem like the chambers of a heart.'

Yes!

- 'And when I move... - That's it.

'...I move along its corridors like a cell...'

'...in a network of arteries.'

There we are.

There. That wasn't so bad, now, was it, huh?

Bravo.

Hm...

- What... What is this? - What do you think?

Pudding?

Right, while I've got your ear...

about Richard Wilder.

You don't need to worry about Richard, or the others.

Bloody Mary, John? Wet the baby's head.

Where are all the menfolk?

Cosgrove was taken, I'm afraid.

On his way back from work.

Christ. Really?

- Simmons has gone to get him back. - Oh.

They may be some time.

Now, tell me... I can't remember.

Have I ever given you my autograph?

Whose area? There's another.

Helen!

Helen!

Helen!

It's you.

- The architect. - Yes.

You see, you've made a mistake there.

If you'd have confessed your sins on camera

when our paths crossed in the foyer,

I'd have probably edited this bit out.

I'm not accountable to you, Mr Wilder.

Too late now, anyway. Camera broke.

Oh, just one thing before you go.

Why exactly did you take my wife?

I can assure you, I have no interest in your personal property.

Because I ask myself, why would a great man like you

feel the need to hide behind women's skirts?

Behind children, even. Your own, as well as others.

How dare you judge me! How dare...

Helen!

That's right. You sit there and think about what you've done.

'On the whole, life in the high-rise was good.

'There had been no obvious point at which it had moved

'into a clearly more sinister dimension.

'Helen was right.

'It was a huge children's party,

'which had got out of hand.

'Of course, Laing was sorry the architect had died.

'He felt he owed the man a debt of gratitude for his new family.

'The first Laing had ever really felt part of.

'Now that several potential patients had emerged here in the building,

'Laing might start a private medical practice...'

Do you fancy a drink? Cosgrove's here.

'...and help others surrender to a logic more powerful than reason.'

All, uh... boys together.

Laing's, uh, got someone waiting. You know how it is.

Say no more.

'One thing was certain.

'Now that everything was getting back to normal,

'Laing would throw his own party,

'a modest project which, nevertheless, required careful and cautious planning.

'For now, he would sit back...

'...eat the rest of the dog,

'and wait for failure to reach the second tower

'of the high-rise development...

'...ready to welcome its residents into this new world... with open arms.'

I heard you out there.

Who were you talking to?

No one.

Just the building.

'A free-enterprise system is a necessary but not a sufficient condition.

'There is only one economic system in the world, and that is capitalism.

'The difference lies in whether the capital

'is in the hands of the state or whether the greater part of it

'is in the hands of people outside of state control.

'Where there is state capitalism, there will never be political freedom.'