Original subtitles

Thank you.

So it's all right. It's all right now. You don't need to worry anymore.

Moor said the army wasn't strong.

He should have proved them wrong on the day he came in. So let the men lay and

shout, Hey!

We all show the...

No! No!

But to think you ought to go for your king.

And the army boys, for your king and your country,

both need you soon.

It's a fine life, they said.

Make a man of it, they said.

And the trouble was, a lot of us never got the chance to be men.

They went straight from the cradle to the grave.

Me?

I should have known better.

Long before I joined up, I knew only too well how life has a nasty habit of

knocking you down and then pushing your face in the muck.

Before the war, to end all wars, I was on stage.

On the stage where the smiles are as bright as the lights.

Because you're not supposed to see the unhappiness and the pain.

Come to think of it, they couldn't have found a better place than a theatre to

recruit their cannon fodder in.

Who can resist a pretty face and a sentimental song?

Especially when the next day you're more likely to get your head blown off.

Nancy.

Nancy Ellis.

I couldn't believe what I was seeing.

As she was in a shell-drunk barn dangerously close to the front line in

France.

Dear, lovely Nancy.

Girl and ghost in just about equal parts.

A girl I'd love forever.

The ghost had haunted me since she walked out of my life for all the wrong

reasons.

Bye. Bye.

I was born in Bruttersford, a tiny Yorkshire mill town smelling of damp

wool and a high moral tone.

It was a pound to a penny I would live, work and die there, in spite of my

dreams and ambitions.

But on the day of my mother's funeral, her brother drove out of the moorland

mists to change all that.

Uncle Nick was as unlike the rest of the family as wine and water.

He was a magician, touring the variety halls with his Indian magician act.

He called himself Gangadhan, a play on Kipling's Gangadin.

Though he was born a Yorkshireman, he looked as exotic and mysterious as his

act, sometimes almost sinister, as if he had become Gangadhan.

Bruttersford by the sea.

It's a long way from the sea. It's a long way from any bloody well, lad.

Let's get to the point.

How do you stand now that both your mother and father are dead?

Working.

Pen pushing.

I get 22 and 6 a week.

Do you like being a clerk?

I want to be a painter.

I was going to go to the art school, but, uh... I'll

pay you five pounds a week.

Five pounds? Doing what?

Working for me.

What, on stage, you mean?

You'll earn it.

I haven't done anything about conjuring.

Don't talk silly. I never said anything about conjuring.

You'll be a sort of dog's body, making sure all our stuff gets away and arrives

at the next theatre on time, taking bang calls Monday mornings.

Of course, you'll be in the act.

But you'll have most of your days free, so you can do your painting.

I'm not saying that working in the theater will be roses all the way. Far

from it. It's hard work.

You'll be dog tired and fed up, especially with the people you'll be

working with, lad.

They're not a breed you're used to. They've more faces than the town hall

clock.

But it will give you a taste of the big wide world.

Well, what's it to be?

Yes or no?

Yes.

You start on Monday at the Newcastle Empire.

Oh.

Here's a fiver.

Get yourself a new suit. Try to look a bit smarter.

Drink up.

Newcastle was chilly and miserable the morning I reported for work.

I was feeling very nervous.

Wondering if I'd made the right decision.

To turn my back on everything I'd known and join Uncle Nick.

Empire Theatre wasn't all that cheerful either.

Lots of dark corridors and a Monday morning air about the place.

Where was all the glitter and the fine feathers?

Herrn Castle?

Yes. My name's Mr. Hislop. Oh, I've been looking for you. Band call started.

You won't find your Uncle Nick here.

He hates conductors. He hates everybody.

How do you get on with them?

Seems fine to me.

Next, please.

Gangadan. Aye, sirs.

Morning, Mr. Broadbent. Morning.

Morning, gentlemen.

Morning.

Compliments of Mr. Arlington.

When is your act going to get some new band parts? It's like trying to read

flypaper down here.

All right, I'll tell the boss.

oh all right all right let's get on with it same opening same business first

eight bars gentlemen

take

notice here in castle you'll be doing it yourself next monday and old nick will

burn you up if anything goes wrong

Now Richard, here you are.

Bank all go all right?

Quite well I think, yes.

Ah, Mr. Sam Hayes and his son Ben.

And Miss Sissy Mapes.

My nephew, Richard Herncastle.

Don't think we're just drinking, we're working.

I have an idea for a new effect.

I want you to watch the first house from out front tonight.

God help you.

Monday's first house consists of deadheads who get free passes for

exhibiting bills.

It's like trying to put on a laughter competition in a morgue.

I won't suggest you buy yourself a drink because Sissy there is about to show you

to your digs.

What? Now?

Yes, now.

It's lonely.

One of the coal mills. They're foreign.

I've got you this room next door, Tassie.

We're in proper theatrical digs as usual but this woman, Mrs. Michaels, doesn't

let rooms as a rule so she's doing us a favor like so you'll have to be very

careful.

She's very respectable, so keep sober and don't try anything on. Wouldn't know

how to start.

I believe your thousands wouldn't. Well, don't be naughty boy there, innit?

You must know Nick's wife, Amber and your uncle.

What's she like?

Oh, I only met her once. I didn't like her.

She's fat as a pig now, he says.

He can't endure her.

He gives her £10 a week to stay away from him in Brighton.

No more wives for him, he said.

If he saw me eating like this, he'd throw me across the room.

If I stop putting on weight, I'll be out the act.

It's getting down into that pedestal.

It's all really much harder than it used to be.

Don't tell him, Richard. Promise you won't tell him anything I say. Solemn

promise. I promise.

I didn't know what you'd be like.

I was a bit upset when he first told me about you. I mean, naturally, I was a

bit worried.

I mean to say, his nephew in the company, perhaps spying on everyone.

You're nice.

I can see that, Richard.

Nice.

Just a little bit naughty.

You afraid of Nick?

Sometimes.

Oh, yeah.

Some days, like today.

He'll treat me like dirt and the next day take me out on his motor and be ever

so nice.

He's the strangest man I've ever had anything to do with. I've known some

peculiar ones in my time.

I never know where I am with him.

Now, mind you, Dick, I'm not grumbling. Don't think now.

I know I've been lucky.

I'm not clever. I'm stupid.

And me looks aren't so grand, and I'm no Venus Lusit.

Now, where I'm lucky is having such small bones.

My wrists, see?

And other places not on view.

I'm just what he needs for the act.

He picked me out of a panto chorus in Brixton.

Two pounds ten a week, two shows a day.

I used to cry at sheer bloody weariness. There's nothing a scene shifter's trying

to get you in a corner and mourn you about with big sweaty hands.

I'm lucky to be out of there.

But I'm no common little tart, as some have said.

Who said that?

Harry Burrod, for one.

He was drunk.

Look, I never told Nick, so please don't let on.

Of course.

Look at the time, I've got to get ready.

Miss!

Miss!

Well, I've had till tonight.

I hope you enjoy it. Be good now.

If you can't be good, be careful.

Sissy might have been a bit of a flirt. She wasn't a tart.

At least she wasn't my idea of one.

I liked her in a chummy, protective way.

Who did Harry Burrard think he was, criticising her?

Thank you.

Have you got this for the

owner? Yeah.

Thank you.

Why do you go riding alone on your motorcar?

People all say you're peculiar.

Singular. So you are.

Oh, slow.

Do let me go.

I'll be your guiding star.

There's hope for two.

Me and you on your elegant motorcar.

The first act was Susie, Nancy and the Three Gentlemen.

I think I began to fall in love with Nancy Ellis there and then.

I was already touched.

Barmy.

And you on your elegant motor Elegant motor Elegant motor car

Long after her act had

finished, I was still in a daze thinking about Nancy.

In fact, I don't remember much about the next act.

The Flying Colmars.

Let me introduce you to our maestro and his merry little man here. They're going

to play to you tonight as they've never played before in tune.

As for Harry Burrard's jokes, the ones I heard were as bad as his judgment of

character.

I don't know. What is better than a piano in the hall?

A fiddle in the passage.

Do you know he thinks that Cindy Greaves is a bunged-up nostril?

No, it's true. I was playing in Blackpool the other week and I went to a

shop and I bought this pie.

And I said, here, there's a snail in this pie.

They said, that's not a snail, that's fat. I said, well, it ought to be. It's

eaten all the meat.

There was Uncle Nick, a master showman at ease in his own element.

He was the personification of the Indian prince, majestically performing the

astonishing and the impossible.

Richard. what did you think? note very carefully everything young Hislock does.

you'll be doing it next week.

where have you been?

I went to mend a skirt. because you were late again out of the box.

I had you off centre again, like I told you, Nick.

Did it right between you next time, girl, or else?

I told him, Nick.

Is that his lot, really?

Richard will be better, won't you, Richard?

Pop off, girl. Pop off.

She has to be out of that box long before that trick lid is closed.

It's watching the lid close that deceives them.

Deceive you, didn't it? Why the devil can't she keep her big mouth shut?

She'll go guessing and blabbing around till my act's not worth tuppence.

I couldn't understand Uncle Nick's attitude to Sissy.

As far as I could see, she contributed her fair share to the act.

She was very graceful, and she glowed in her costume like somebody had polished

her.

There was a lot about Uncle Nick I didn't understand.

And never would.

One of my favourite acts was Riccardo, the Italian juggler.

He wasn't just a juggler, he was also very funny.

He was forever showing people photographs of his wife and children in

Italy.

Though his mind wasn't always on his family, not by a long chalk.

At the top of the bill was a very different kettle of fish altogether.

You're one of the nuts.

I don't think so, Mr Beamish. What are you doing back here? Stop it, he's Nick

Ollenton's nephew, didn't you know? Is he now one of my favourite colleagues, I

don't think? Tommy, please.

Tommy, please.

You must mind him, he's not being easy tonight.

What's your name?

Richard Hancastle.

You're rather sweet.

She's done it to us all, chum. What? Ignore it. That's the best. Here.

Oh, whoa, whoa!

Ladies and gentlemen... Don't enjoy him, do you, lad? No, I don't.

Neither do they.

His day's done and the poor bugger knows it.

Excuse me just a moment while I play this sweet refrain.

I showed that A-slot right from the start. I wasn't having any.

Like I mean.

Sam and Bain are all right.

But you have to watch Barney.

He isn't reliable.

Especially after a few drinks.

Poor little man.

There never seem to be any women dwarfs for him.

I was on a bill once when there were six of them in one of them knockabout

sketches, and you couldn't move for angry little men.

Nick.

It's in the oven ready, Nick.

And here's your champagne.

Richard was going to tell us about how he feels about being on variety stage,

weren't you, Richard?

Get off the bed, girl.

Oh, Nick!

Go on, don't argue.

Poor little sissy.

Brutal old Nick.

You did seem a bit hard on her.

She's got the best job she'll ever have.

And I don't keep her on because of what she lets me have upstairs.

The point is, Richard, she's actually got very small bones.

So she can squeeze into half the space the audience thinks she needs.

If she couldn't, she'd be out of the act sharp.

And she wouldn't be staying on upstairs, neither.

But I warn you, lad, when I want my greens, I don't fancy another fellow's

leaving.

You don't need to tell me that. I'm not interested.

You will be.

She hasn't got to work on you yet.

You're thinking I'm a hard man, aren't you?

Well, I am.

It wasn't easy getting to where I am.

There were years of bread and tea and marge in a Clapham basement.

I'm wearing out my britches ass at the agents. And that's not all.

Touring a variety turns a man into a poached egg.

And the women are ready to do the poaching.

They're born softeners and entanglers.

You have to be short and brutal with them.

Couldn't you be missing something?

You're just out of the egg, lad.

You have to use your intelligence.

and look after yourself in this life.

Trouble with a man like me, not easily taken in, able to see through people,

is that he soon gets bored.

That's why I'm glad you've joined me, Richard.

I can talk to you.

Last year, I played a couple of weeks at the London Coliseum.

One night, an old Hindu came round to see me.

A fellow from the India office brought him.

I told him if there was anything badly wrong with the act, I'd try to put it

right, and he mentioned one or two things, and I made a note of them.

Then he talked, smiling all the time.

About what?

Bloody horrors, mostly.

I'm not easily frightened, but he gave me the cold shivers.

Fire, fury and bloody murder everywhere.

And he talked about it all as if he was a kid.

The magic lantern shout.

That's enough chatter.

You push off, lad.

Howloon!

Howloon, Tommy!

Thomas! Mr Beamish Thomas!

It's what it says on me medal.

Royal Command Performance, Palace Theatre, London, 1st of July, 1912.

Tommy Beamish was the exact opposite of Harry Burrard.

Tommy was a wonderful comedian.

He could get the audience to eat out of the palm of his hand.

But as much as I admired the comic, the man himself was bombastic and crude.

Which can hardly be said to describe his assistant.

The elegant Miss Julie Blaine.

She was that fascinating mixture of cool beauty and promise.

It's grand to be back in Newcastle. Only place I know where the birds wake up

coughing. Now!

You could see the despair in his eyes.

Sunday was travelling day, the day we moved on to the next empire.

Sometimes the journeys were short and sweet, sometimes long and tedious.

That's better.

That's a lot better.

Drawing, were you?

Yes. What are you drawing then?

You three.

Hear that, Sam? Hear that, Ben?

We're going to be in a picture.

How did you feel in that Indian costume?

Oh, righty-do, when I took over.

Better by Saturday night. You look fine.

You were better than young Isla.

He were always slapped off. You were careful.

We weren't sure about you at first, being the boss's nephew.

Wasn't sure myself.

Me. Richard Hernecastle dressed up like an Indian.

My pals at the Mellon Brothersford would have bust their braces.

Summit of New Orleans.

Oh, thanks, Colin.

Oh, Colin, I had to spend half the bleeding night there.

I just went ashore to send a telegram. Oh, what a hope. I lost me tit for into

the bargain.

Lost you what?

Although, you know, it's a cockney rhyming slang, Cully. Eh? Tit for, tit

for tat.

Otherwise, hat.

See?

Made special it was to West End. Harry G. Burrard has everything made for

himself. And that's me, Cully, the one and only Harry G. Burrard.

I want the... How about a little, uh... Get it? A little of what you fancy,

Cully, eh?

Yes? Oh, well, pardon me, Sir Marmaduke.

I've seen you before somewhere, Cully, haven't I?

Newcastle Empire.

I've joined my uncle, Nick Hollinson.

Oh?

Oh, yes.

He's a pal, that one. Bugger, I don't think.

Told me to be facey. Didn't want me on the same bill with him.

And he was going to tell the front office he was, did he?

He's never said anything to me.

Can't blame you if he's your uncle, can I?

I've had uncles I wouldn't be seen dead with.

Once I'd got 15 years.

How do you like being a variety, eh?

It's all right so far.

All right.

Oh, don't make me laugh.

I've had 30 years of it.

Now I don't recognize it.

Don't know where the hell I am.

It's another bleeding world, Cully.

I'm shouting my head off to a lot of strangers nowadays.

The old days, I'd be on the bill with Dan Lino, Albert Chevalier, Mari Lloyd

and Lottie Collins.

There just aren't women like that anymore.

They'd arrest them on sight in Brum now.

I see things you've never heard of, Cully.

What, for instance?

They're sending people all the time now.

That's why everything's going wrong.

I noticed one last night in the front row.

Big black moustache. I'll tell them at a glance.

Listen.

There's one on this train.

He knows I've spotted him. They don't like that, of course. They sent in a

report. Harry Burrod.

Here again.

Wire instructions.

They pass the word on wherever we're going.

Give Burroughs the bird.

Well, the public won't stand for it, of course, but give him time and it'll work

there too.

And then where am I, eh?

Where am I?

Finished, Cully.

I wouldn't even get a license to run a boozer.

When we get to Edinburgh, you keep close to me, and I'll show you the guy that

gets off this train. As he gets off, just a nudge, you know, nothing over

here. And you see.

Okay?

Suppose it was callous of me to sketch him in that state, but I couldn't resist

it His life was burned into every line of his tortured face

I

had rather different subjects to sketch at our next stop

Stately, handsome Edinburgh.

It was the first beautiful city I'd ever seen.

The weather was raw, but the pale sunlight was brushing the stone with

brilliant gold.

But there was no escaping Monday.

Monday morning in the dreaded Bancourt.

As I sat waiting to be called, I told myself I wanted to get to know everybody

and be friendly.

I knew that what I really wanted was to see little Nancy Ellis.

And failing her, the tantalizing Noni Colmar, and the splendidly dark-eyed,

arm-touching Miss Julie Blaine.

Sex, not friendship, was the lure.

Stop, stop, stop!

It's impossible!

Tempo!

Tempo! Yes, tempo, vals!

The Colmars were not French for nothing.

My mother, of course, was the tantalizing Noni.

My uncle, he's always angry with the orchestra.

My uncle won't even come and talk to the conductors.

Your uncle?

Nick Hollinson.

Gangadon. Oh.

I'm joining his act.

You're not afraid of him?

Afraid, no.

Well, so many.

They are very afraid.

Not just because he's angry, but because they think he has special power.

Magic power.

What do you think, huh?

I'd so like you to tell me what you think sometime.

Please?

Ah, merci beaucoup! Thank you very much!

But this is impossible.

Tonight we have performance!

Tonight, sir!

Do you not want us to keep it for tonight's performance?

What's the matter?

Taking the afternoon off or something?

A bit tired, are we? Look, Harry, old man.

We could play these numbers of yours in our sleep, so don't worry.

Who told you to say that?

What? You ever, I said. Who told you?

Harry, there's no need, old chap.

Just clear the stage for you. What are you doing?

You think I've got nothing to do?

Gangadon!

Gangadon!

Gangadon!

Morning, lad.

I don't think we've had the pleasure before, have we? No, I'm new.

New, eh?

Well, you'll soon get the hang of it.

Where would you like to go from?

Opening number?

Right, gentlemen.

Figure one and...

Excuse me.

Excuse me, we're not starting like that.

I should have known.

We're dealing with the great Nick Arlington, aren't we? He likes to make

everything a mystery, including his opening music, so we all know who's

boss. So what are you opening with? Do tell.

I mean, we're only the orchestra.

As a matter of fact... Oh, come on, Sonny, we've not got all day.

Figure eight, gentlemen.

I hope you're a lot slipper if you have to vanish.

See if they're in for me too, Nancy.

Letters for the Gangadon Company, please.

Morning, Miss Ellis.

What have you done to her?

That's what I'm wondering, Miss Blaine.

She snubbed me the other night, but I thought I'd try again.

Eight, please, Albert, and any letters.

So were you about to run away and hide your blushes, poor boy?

Well, you could carry that up to my dressing room for me instead.

Thank you.

God, I'm tired.

We went to a party last night.

Poor Tommy's still out.

If you'd told me five years ago, I'd be creeping down on a Monday morning to

take a band call.

What did you say your name was, my dear?

Hancastle.

Your other name?

Richard. And you want to be a painter?

My they haven't improved this place since I was last here Fresh air for a

start

Don't stare so hard.

I'm a hundred years old this morning.

I was never pretty. No.

Gallant Richard Herncastle. You're beautiful, Miss Blaine.

If you're going to work so hard at flattering me, you might as well call me

Julie. I'm not flattering you.

I was looking at your face as a kind of object.

Ah, the artist speaks.

I'm not much of an artist yet, but I see where the painter's eye.

Don't talk like a solemn young goose.

Come here.

Thank you.

Well, we'd better go down, I suppose.

The band hasn't much to do for us. There aren't many queues. Tommy insists on

you. exactly the right tempo for his entrance.

Really, he ought to be here to see to it himself.

Shall we go, then, Richard?

You also happen to have a beautiful voice, Miss Blaine.

At it again, are you?

Well, I do think I have a nice voice, but there isn't much happen about it.

Training and hard work, Richard, dear.

Now, about this girl, Nancy... What's the matter with her? What am I supposed

to have done?

I fancy it was something your uncle said about their act.

I find it rather charming. Your little Nancy could go a long way if she wanted

to, but apparently she doesn't even like being on stage.

One of your Indian colleagues, isn't he, Richard?

I should feel sorry for him, but I think he's a horrid little creature.

That girl's a vicious little thing.

Tommy rather fancied her at first, but he soon saw through her.

Right.

Why don't we have a drink after, Richard? I could do with one.

Meet you at the stage door? Good.

Now, look here, Ollenton.

What's all this about, then, eh? The name's Hearncastle.

Well, Hearncastle.

You've been annoying my sister-in-law, Miss Ellis.

Annoying her?

Oh, don't say good morning to her. She can get over that, can't she?

Well, she doesn't want to speak to you, so don't you speak to her.

Push up.

Do you want to punch her on the nose?

Try it and see.

You better leave her alone, you future Horncastle.

Horncastle! Might as well get it right before you call in the police.

Quiet!

Morning, Mr Andrews. Good morning, my dear. How are you? I'm very well, thank

you. Morning, gentlemen.

Right, gentlemen. Two bars in.

One, two...

If you've any sense lad you'll keep away from Miss Julie Blaine.

Look at them.

Like a lot of powdered apes. They aren't anything till someone tells them what to

do or say.

Nick's quite right.

Richard will believe me or he won't. I don't think a testimonial from you will

make any difference. But I'm warning you, lad.

Keep away from that woman Blaine.

She seemed quite sensible and friendly to me.

Now what's she up to?

good morning.

Richard I promised you a drink. I'm with some old friends. would you forgive me?

yes of course Julie.

so it's Richard and Julie already is it?

listen you're a good-looking lad and so far you know nothing and you've been

nowhere. to someone like that you're fresh meat to a tiger.

keep away from her lad or she'll eat you for breakfast.

he's right Richard.

that's enough from you.

Why don't you pop off to the ladies or something?

Have you ever noticed how girls like sissy and, above all, tarts always go

for a pee trying to look like duchesses?

You're thinking I'm prejudiced against Julie Blaine, aren't you?

Yes.

Ever wondered what she's doing here, playing feed to a comic twice nightly,

rough stuff, and going back to his digs for even rougher stuff?

I've wondered about all that, yes.

She was a good actress once, in leading parts, and she took to the bottle. She

drank so hard she fell flat on her face one night on stage at the Comedy

Theatre. So it was good part of the West End.

She had to take what she could get.

What she got was Tommy Beamish twice nightly on stage and once nightly with

or without the trimmings on or around the bed

Suddenly

I hated him Not because

he destroyed some wonderful image of Julie Blaine.

I hadn't one then and only admired her looks and manner

but because there seemed something so hard and mean about that triumphant look

of his.

He was all right. He had everything under control.

If other people couldn't live along the same tight, hard line, let them suffer.

He went to see her father in the room behind the shop.

But when her father heard the time, he frowned and shouted, Stop!

to see her father there on the night, and he said to me, you've got to marry a

dolly or else. I said, well, let's see your else. She can't be much worse than

your dolly.

Come on, everybody.

Join in the final chorus.

You do amuse me, sir.

Thought she was my daughter, sir.

We were married, you know?

I'll tell you to pull it, you pull it! I told you, Tommy.

You did not!

And now that you've caught me, I will not drop it.

If you don't pull it, a pair of you have to start pushing.

I thought you took a band call this morning.

Large whiskey, Arthur, and one for madam.

There's nothing wrong with music.

Perhaps you weren't listening.

No, I listen, Uncle. I'm more interested in music than you.

It's time we had some better band parts and new music.

You've only been on the job five minutes. Let's see your bloody cheek.

I'm not trying to be cheeky.

I'm just proud of the act. I want to improve it.

Oh. Well, you don't take band calls because you don't like musical

directors. All I ask is that they do their job properly.

Perhaps you don't pay them enough.

I'll sweeten them.

Beer money.

I object to it on principle.

I won't do it.

All right, fine.

I'll do my best for you every Monday morning, I promise you that.

Don't take it out on me if they don't like your attitude.

And what are we gonna be rehearsing next week?

The disappearing cyclist.

Man rides up to this open doorway, bike goes through, man disappears.

Who'll be the man?

You.

I can't... No objections now or I'll make you disappear altogether.

excuse me mr. Ollerton but Sam said you wanted to see me then where have you

been hanging about the women turning yourself into a pet dog I've had a

letter from the agency in London Barney little men aren't in great demand

there's more than a dozen up here cost much less than you I'm just warning you

you were slow again in dropping in the rival magician effect

Sam said... Don't tell me what Sam or anyone else says. Just bring me those

stilt boots.

If I find they're all right and it's your carelessness, I'll wire London for

another dwarf.

Don't ever be soft with him, lad, because you feel sorry for him. He'll

take advantage of it sharp.

He hates us for being normal-sized.

The only thing he likes is those thick heads out front.

Those blankets who come pouring into the variety theatres to be flattered, to boo

and clap or walk out in protest and forget the bloody mess they live in

outside.

Everything in the papers they can't do anything about.

High-class women being forcibly fed just because they want the vote.

Strikes, lockouts, butchery in Ireland.

Germany looking uglier and uglier.

Filth everywhere.

The golden age is gone, lad.

We're slithering into a bog, slithering fast.

No one's stopping us.

There's something I want to say to you.

Go on.

You needn't sound like that.

I just don't want to be snubbed again.

I can't be snubbing you if I've just come up to talk to you.

I wanted to tell you that I didn't ask my brother-in-law Bob Hodson to speak to

you like that.

I said something to my sister Susie and she must have said something to him and

then... He's like that.

Always trying to be important.

But I expect Miss Blaine told you that.

She's interested in you, isn't she?

Doubt it.

Susie and Bob are always telling me to keep away from her.

They don't like her.

They don't like anyone.

That's the limit from you.

What? What about your frightful uncle?

I've been in some kind of act with Susie and Bob for over two years now.

But they don't like variety. They're very ambitious.

Have you seen the act from out front?

It's very good.

Susie's scrumptious.

She's all right.

You're the one.

Silly. I wasn't trying to flatter you.

You carry the act. I thought you were wonderful.

Don't look at me in that daft way.

I was just wondering which is the real you.

On stage or... Oh, this. This is the real me. That's not me capering and

larking about, showing my legs and being saucy.

You know, I must be at least two years older than you. What's that got to do

with being so daft?

Well, what have you got to be so serious about? What of you?

I want to be a painter. What of you?

it sipped the honeydew.

They both vowed they would be true.

Then he whispered to her words she thought divine.

You are my honey, honeysuckle.

I am the bee.

Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz. I'd like to sip the honey sweet from those red lips you

see.

Nancy would always exist for me in some unchanging sunlit garden.

In some perpetual May time.

We love you.

Sunday again.

And another long journey.

Hello, Richard. I was wondering if you'd like to meet Susie and the others.

Yes, I would. Thank you.

Come on, then.

This is Richard Hearncastle, everyone.

Nathaniel of you-know-who.

Hello.

Nancy says you don't really want to be on the stage.

Well, it's not my first choice, but... It's our life.

The theatre's our blood.

Every bit of it. Including the box office. Not funny.

Certainly the box office. I'm a pro.

One day I'll be in management.

I mean the real theatre, not this variety nonsense.

Twice a night, my dears. Just before or just after the fish and chips?

Oh! We're all longing to get back.

Even Nancy.

I'm not longing for anything. I wish I was.

She has such talent, too.

Don't you think so, Mr Henparsel?

Yes, I do.

What I'd like to know is why your uncle is so bloody disagreeable. Now, Bob.

Don't you think he is? Sometimes.

He's not really interested in performing. He just likes working out

new tricks and effects.

He's not interested in people one way or the other.

Does it run in the family?

Stop flirting, dear. Oh, look, he's blushing.

Don't be stupid.

Mr. Ancastle! Mr. Ancastle! Nonny wants to... Nonny wants to see you. She's got

a special message.

Ah, push off.

He's not talking to you. I said push off.

Mr. Ancastle?

Yeah, a minute or two.

OK.

Like fooling with a bloody circus. Well, you can't help it. He hasn't got two

heads. Really?

I hadn't noticed.

Horrible little lecher.

One night he came up behind me backstage and put his arms around my waist. Oh,

God. And why didn't you tell me? We can't be telling you things like that

all the time.

Your Noni's waiting for you. She's not my Noni. I've hardly spoken to her.

See you in Aberdeen, then. Bye.

Obviously Harry Barak could still make somebody laugh.

An unlikely audience though they were.

They all seemed to be laughing their way to tears. I couldn't bear to stay.

It was

a great relief to find someone as normal as Riccardo.

The problem, my friend, is finding the right woman.

She must be friendly, but not too friendly.

Between 30 and 45, blonde and of good shape.

Officers' wives is a disgrace. They throw themselves at me. It's no good.

So when you find them, what do you do? What do you say?

I say, oh, you have a good...

Understanding kind of face. Please, I'm on the musicals and I'm so worried about

my act.

Is it possible for you to come and see my little act and tell me afterwards

what you think?

Please, help me. I'm so worried.

And it works.

Never fails.

Hancastle, I'll tell you something else.

We have a madman in the company.

Oh, no, Harry Barad. Oh, no, it's not Barad.

It's Tommy Beamish.

He's so strange and bitter.

He's half mad already.

I've seen it before. I know exactly what's going to happen.

What will happen?

He will go out of his mind, slowly at first, and then suddenly, bam!

I just hope that no one gets hurt.

I wasn't convinced at all.

It was Harry Burrard who was the madman.

Where have you been?

On the train, getting here.

There's a man here called Sir Alec Inverurie. He's a big shareholder in two

or three musical syndicates.

Telephoned to ask Beamish and me to supper tonight.

So I want you to look after Sissy.

What you do about Miss Blaine, I don't know.

I don't suppose either of them's too happy about being left out.

Well, you can lump it.

to go, as Tommy damn well knows.

It's rather I sit by myself, which I loathe, or else I have to join you in

this awful little tart.

I don't think that's a fair description of Sissy.

Well, she certainly looks like one.

Anyway, Tommy should never have gone off like that. I'm furious.

That's got nothing to do with me.

He was talking about you, you silly boy. Well, for someone who only last Monday

said we should become friends.

Fat chance for you to talk like that.

You've got a lot of friends, have you?

Say you're sorry, Richard, or I swear I'll never speak to you again.

I mean it.

Yeah, I'm sorry. I didn't really know what I was saying.

Talk to your dear little Nancy on the train, Richard.

The very thing I was going to ask, Miss Blame.

Yes. Ah.

She introduced me to her sister.

Little Nancy was telling me the other day, Miss Mapes, that she'd leave the

stage tomorrow if she could.

Such a pity.

A nice little talent.

They're hoping to get into panto, are here.

Richard wouldn't like that, would you, Richard?

Why don't you turn it up, you two?

Turn what up, Richard, dear?

Didn't like her sister much.

preferred Ambrose and Esmond. oh Richard.

oh you better watch it. you're very good-looking.

I suppose he is in a way.

but the point is what does his little Nancy think?

notice poor Burrard talking his head off to Barney and the... if she doesn't like

being on the stage I expect she wants to get married.

probably met some man already.

older than she is with lots of money. I'm going for a walk.

why don't you both go? I'm going to my bed to read.

has anyone got anything worth reading?

no I don't think so.

I've got a pocket edition of Masons at the Villa Rose.

sounds just fine Richard.

drop it into my room on your way out will you?

Come in.

Come here.

Did I tease him then?

I'm sorry.

You can see how sorry I am.

Oh, no.

No. No, for Christ's sake, no. No, go.

Quickly, go.

Couldn't find the book.

I know you don't believe me, but I've seen it.

I couldn't stop thinking about Julie Blaine.

She seemed to know exactly what had gone on in her room.

I'm not stupid.

Maybe the giveaway was the silly expression on my face.

She's very attracted to you, you know.

What?

That Julie Blaine, she's very attracted to you.

I doubt it.

Hmm.

There are some things I do know about.

If you have to think of women, think of Nancy Ellis.

I'll tell you someone else was fond of you.

Your uncle Nick.

Oh, he doesn't show it.

That's him, isn't it?

Now you need to tell me that.

Do something for me, Richard.

Hold me close.

Nothing to do with making love, just be gentle and kind.

Even if it's all pretending?

I feel so frightened sometimes What

will become of me?

He doesn't love me He only wants me when he feels like

it I love him

I can hate him sometimes.

But mostly I love him.

God help me for the fraud I was.

I was comforting a desperately frightened sissy still tasting Julie

Blaine's lips.

Nancy's catching laugh was somewhere in the distance too.

We were all invited to Sir Alec Inverury's next party.

We lived in a vast mansion which glittered inside and out.

I didn't know so much opulence existed.

Some of us had to sing for our suppers, which was probably the reason for

inviting common theatricals.

Everybody had a marvellous time and we were like children on an unexpected

holiday.

I'm with the music boys. I do a speciality act and I'm I'm very worried

about my act Is it possible for you maybe to come in and see my little act

you have a kind sympathetic face to tell me afterwards

It's a good interview, it's very good. Well I'm not, er, I'm not Hank

O'Donoghue now, I'm not the magician, you know that.

No, but you're so funny!

I'm just one of your assistants, honestly.

Wouldn't quite be funny. A couple of idiots.

You know, I'm on stage, so I must be a funny man.

You know so little about girls, Richard.

What?

They were laughing like that because they wanted everyone in the room to

think they were having a wonderful time with you. To make us all feel envious.

You sure?

What a baby you are.

You shouldn't be allowed out.

Where are you staying?

A little hotel called The Pfeiffer.

It's like a funeral parlour.

Oh, yes, she's staying there, isn't she?

If you mean Miss Blaine, we haven't exchanged words since Sunday.

You ought to be careful of that one, Richard.

What do you mean?

She's very attractive in her own way, I suppose.

And she's hungry for someone or something.

I don't know.

I think she's a rather frightening person.

I wasn't really listening.

I was enjoying myself too much.

I was watching Uncle Nick enchant Lady Inverurie by showing her some of his

pocket tricks.

All our high spirits seemed to come together and create one great blue

bubble of happiness.

Often since the war started.

I've looked back to that night and tried to recapture some of its carefree

quality.

Like a man exiled from a beautiful homeland forever.

If gentlemen will make a riot and punch each

other's head that night.

We're quite disposed to keep it quiet, provided that they make it right.

But if they do not seem to see it, or give to us our proper

terms, we run them in, we run them in, we run them in, we run them in, we show

them.

Tommy. He's in the gun room.

Do you like a drink?

See what he did to that party.

How happy he made everyone feel.

Now this.

Now I get a lot of this.

I'm sorry, Julie. Who asked you to be sorry?

You're only a boy.

You better go.

Shove off and get the hell out of it! Come on, out!

Out, all of you!

Can't talk to a foreign tart and a damned midget.

Disgusting, that's what they are. The brains aren't their kind.

You're different.

Come on, you come in here. I want to show you something. Something very

important. And I think it will interest you, too.

Come on.

And you should know what it's going to be like in Glasgow, eh?

How many of them will be there?

Three? Four?

Maybe ten?

The word's been passed on, and the instructions telegraphed.

Give Burrard the bird.

Oh, look, I really don't think we need this.

No, look, I'm not lying down, you know.

I'm not giving in. Not all that in Burrard.

And if I catch one right on the job, he gets it.

He gets it with this.

I should have taken that gun off him there and then.

But I didn't.

And I'll have to regret it for the rest of my life.

We introduced a new effect in Glasgow.

The vanishing cyclist.

It was my first time in the limelight.

Well done, lad.

I'd best get off and get an un-bunged at number six, Bloughamfontein Avenue.

Have you ever been bunged up, missus?

Not a pleasant experience, is it?

See you on the way back.

Well, where is that damned veterinary surgeon?

He should have been here an hour ago.

Just listen to that, old boy. Just listen to it, eh? It's tremendous.

So it is, so it is. It's what I'm here for.

But I'll tell you something, old boy.

It's the cruelest bloody sound in the world, just people laughing like that.

It gives me the creeps sometimes.

How do?

How do we?

Do you know, I don't think there is a number six blowing Fontein having... A

last number six!

Plumber master plumber by appointment to his majesty King George the fifth.

Mr. Beamish Thomas, but you call me Tommy Oh

you a vet you a vet

Have you tried crossing your legs

Richard Richard, please wait.

Can I apologize?

I'm not looking for any apologies. Don't be pompous. I'd rather you were angry.

Anyhow, my dear, I am sorry. I behaved very badly and ungratefully and I'm

ashamed.

Well, say something.

Yeah, well, you know, next time you give me a man's job to do like you did with

Tommy, don't tell me when I've done it that I'm only a boy.

Richard, my darling, I'm 35.

I can't help thinking of you as a boy.

Oh, the brightest, brightest, sweetest boy imaginable.

Hey, let's forget what happened then.

Just remember the Sunday before when you brought me the book.

Exactly, you know, one night it's like that. The next time you make me feel

like a moan, you're out. Oh, my darling, you need to learn more about women.

When do I get the chance?

You'll just have to lend me another book, won't you?

Let's drive.

Bye.

Come on, everybody!

All together now, join in the final chorus.

It's not your face, anybody!

The funny man was he who was known by the name of Mr. Nicknock.

This old Nicknock was a funny man.

Old Nicknock had a funny Marianne. His Marianne loved another old man.

Tell you who the man was.

Of course, I easy gan.

The man she loved was your humble, don't you see?

Till one day, Nicknock unexpectedly came.

Mrs. Knickknocker sitting on... No, Richard, you mustn't.

It isn't fair.

I hate you.

You're a beast.

This girl doesn't think so.

Poor old Knickknock, busy on the knickknock. Knickknocker knocking at the

door.

Shouted knick-knock, he got the knick-knock beam on the knick-knock,

knick-knock more.

Shouted Mrs. Knick-knock to me to take the knick-knock before Mr. Knick-knock

texts him with his knick-knock. She don't know how to knick-knock, knick

-knock on my jaw.

Who dresses in there?

Must have borrowed.

knocking at the door.

It's poor old Knickknock, busy on the Knickknock, Knickknocker knocking at the

door.

Shouted Knickknock, he'd got the Knickknock, bang on the Knickknock,

Knickknock.

Barad's dead.

Richard, go and tell the stage manager.

Can I come with you?

Right, inside you go.

Away you go folks, on over.

It seemed so much worse because I couldn't bear him. He was out of his

mind, Nancy.

Poor Burrard.

Always seemed to be quite balmy. Perhaps that was because nobody liked him

anymore.

If we'd only just pretended, Richard. Listen to something else.

I know you won't believe me when I say I don't like this life.

But I don't.

I don't, I don't.

I know.

What if he could hear us chasing about and laughing, not caring what happened

to him?

Perhaps we were all happy too soon.

If someone had told me Burrod was leaving us, I would have been delighted.

But this?

It's horrible.

Frightening.

We all longed for him to go, so he did, like that.

Maybe it's our fault.

Maybe it will never be the same.