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I've read every book
in this library

but I can't find a story
about a girl like me.

Girls in books
always have a moment

where everything changes

but my moment
still hasn't happened.

Today is like yesterday.
Tomorrow never comes.

I know what usually starts
an adventure

the arrival of a mysterious hero

a Mr. Darcy, a Mr. Rochester,
a Rhett Butler

who turns everything
upside down.

I am not closed-minded

but finding the romantic hero
of our age

in wolverhampton seems unlikely.

Ah.

No, I do not think
my adventure starts with a boy.

I think it starts with me.

Like all great heroes,
I have a sidekick

my faithful dog, Bianca.

I also have a plan.

I'm going to be a writer.

What kind of writer?
I don't know yet.

The kind that is totally amazing

travels the world, has sex

and writes powerful truths
that change people's lives.

Oil

go on, fatty!

Are you a lezzer?
Are you a lezzer?

After all, I know the impact
a great book can have.

Ow!

I know what you're thinking.

There are a few key differences

between me
and your typical heroine.

- You alright, bab?
- Hi, dad.

For starters,
I am not a tragic orphan.

I actually have
too many brothers.

Four, which is simply excessive.

And then there's my mother's
postnatal depression

which you should
absolutely expect

if you get pregnant at 38. Ugh.

Unlike Virginia woolf,

I don't even have a room
of one's own.

This is krissi's room with
a partition down the mile.

Like Berlin.

But, here,
I have everything I need.

Elizabeth Taylor,
the bronte sisters

Donna summer, Dr. Sigmund Freud.

- Good morning, Johanna.
- Hey, brontes. Good times, ja?

I have the love
and wise counsel of my god wall.

What a beautiful day!

I regret to say
that despite my best intentions

today has been
another miserable one.

Well, missy,
I've had plenty of those.

There's nothing a little
musical number can't cure.

How much longer am I going
to have to be here?

I need something to happen.

I want to burn!
I want to explode!

Oh, I want to have
sexual intercourse

with someone who has a car.

What's a car?

How do I get there from here?

Come on, repulsive.
It's the news.

The real news. Bong.

Top of the pops.

Come here, smudge.

Would the people in the cheaper
seats clap your hands?

And the rest of you,
if you'll just rattle your jewelry.

- Who are these?
- Happy mondays.

I'm putting 'em on the front
cover of the "fanzine."

Do you know nothing
of popular culture, Johanna?

Fuck me. I could do
better than this lot.

They look like
a bunch of brickies.

Where's a nice poofy spaceman
when you need one?

I miss bowie.
How are you feeling, mum?

- I'm becoming evil.
- Nice one, bab.

I'd kill for 20 minutes' sleep.

I'd kill the last panda
on earth.

I'd cule up in its furry corpse
for a bit of shuteye.

You've still got those
sexy eyes, though, love.

Still can't sit down, huh?

Oh, god, it's like
the joker's smile down there.

Ah, take your coat off.

You won't feel
the benefit, cocker.

Oh, pat, it took half a tit
to get him off.

This is ecstasy funk, dad.

I can't stand it when amateurs
take over from proper jazzers.

They've crossed the cultural
picket line, this lot.

- Scabs! Scabs!
- Dad, shush.

I'm trying to hear.

I just wanna get back
in the game, love

back on top.

For I'm the bastard son
of Brendan behan

and one day, these fuckers
will all bow down to me.

To me, yes, yes.

Johanna morrigan...

- Ovulate quietly.
- No, no, I've been chosen!

- What?
- Listen! Listen!

Our young poet
of the Midlands finalists.

- Tomorrow has come.
- Are you going to be on telly?

- From your writing?
- Birmingham?

It's gonna be at least
a tenner in petrol.

What am I going to wear?

Krissi, turn that fire off.
We're broke.

There's me bloke from stoke.

Here you are, son,
hand him over.

Can we keep him, dad?

No, mate.
Hounds for pounds, innit, eh?

- Johanna.
- Please, dad. Please!

Yeah. Happy mondays on the cover

and then a think piece about
riot grrrl inside...

This is my turning point,
krissi.

I'm going to get out of here.
Become a writer.

And everyone wants to have a
date with people who are on TV.

It's just a fact.

For a tenner

I'd probably have a go
on Andy bibby.

Andy bibby farts on his own
hands and throws them at people

shouting "turtle power."

Well, we could conduct
our relationship downwind.

What about Richard moseley?
He's tall. Value for money.

Richard moseley once shot
a snail with an air rifle.

John kellog has a good bag.

And so chaucer
was one of the first poets

to use the five-stress line

the decasyllabic cousin
to the iambic pentameter

the man who helped standardize
mile english

a daring satirist,
a protofeminist

and not, as surmised
by Lee bacon

just shit at spelling.

- Oh, nice one.
- So...

- Did you like my essay, Mrs. b?
- Mrs. belling.

It was your best yet, Johanna.

A very entertaining 33 pages.

You're very generous
with your words.

Artistic expression
is the greatest preventative

for melancholy
and morbidity, Mrs. b.

- Mrs. belling.
- My memoir already runs up to 300 pages.

Johanna, you're 16.
Have you got many memoir-ies?

Oh, I am blessed with a rich
internal life, Mrs. b.

I just write about all
the things I imagine I'll do.

The only trouble is
I don't know the end yet.

I'm an english teacher.

You need to share that problem
with the philosophy department.

Johanna,
may I offer you some advice?

Cannon away, full power, Mrs. b.

Mrs. belling.

You need to just
rein it in a bit.

All teachers look for a spark.
Very few have it. You do.

In fact, right now,
you're like krakatoa.

But I need five pages of
gcse-compliant coursework

not "war and peace."

The unabridged version.

That's the cool room.
I've never been in there.

Get a shift on, babba.

It's time
for your starring role.

Birmingham new road
will be a circus by 6:00.

What do you reckon?
Nine quid for the lot.

Donny buhamere's
done us proud, hasn't he?

- We look like a fat bros.
- Nice one.

This jacket is too tight.

I don't think
it's made for women.

Oh, you've inherited
the finlayson

women's breasts, Johanna.

We can't be contained
by a catalogue bra.

Where's me bloody keys?

Come on, let's go.

Now, the first lucky linguist
to compete...

This is it. My pivotal moment.

Like when the little mermaid
gets legs.

Who lists his aress as
east of Eden, west of solihull

with his poem, "brut 66."

I only have three true friends

the moon, my fist and a gun...

We played this show,
you know, back in '78.

They didn't like the lyrics,

to "fuck me till
my blaer bursts"

so we did an instrumental
in the end.

Classy.

It was our last ever
performance.

Spot. Remember your view.

Do you wanna take
your coat off, love?

One minute.

I'll stack them,
like tupperware.

No, it's not working.
You'll be fine.

- It is dead sweaty out there.
- Well done, mate.

Are you alright, love?

Hey, I've got some advice
for you, alright?

Key wisdom.
Don't ever forget this.

If things ever get lairy,
turn the conversation to jazz.

Confuses people.

And get on the hot, bad jazzers,
mingus, Coltrane.

You're on. Go, go.

Johanna morrigan

from the warstones estate
in wolverhampton.

She says her poem is influenced
by her family's unusual business

breeding border collie dogs.

- That's right.
- I love a collie.

Take it away, Johanna,
with our final poem...

About friendship.

Go on.

"My best friend
by Johanna morrigan."

"My father sells your babies."

"You howl when you're alone."

“You do not know
who your parents are.

"And all you want to do is bone.

"Well, my best friend is Bianca,
my dog.

"Despite her mental health
seeming fragile

"and when it comes to scaring
off assailants, or yobs

"she has proven less than agile.

"You cannot hug me
with your paws.

"Li know, Bianca.

- "I've tried."
- Come on, Johanna.

"Dog anatomy lacks
rotator cuffs.

"You can't open your forelegs
that wide

"but, Bianca,
I know you can always hug me.

"You can always hug me

hug me with your eyes."

I'm so nervous. I'm so nervous.

When you know that there's
one million people watching

it's nerve-racking.

I'm just... I'm just mad.

Anyway, to be honest, Alan...

- Oh, here she comes.
- I'm just...

That's what everyone says.

Just... just a mad

lonely teenager into dog.

But... but we, we're like

sha... shaggy and Scooby-doo.

Best friends forever
against the world.

I rove my rog.

Everybody roves my rog.

- Let's...
- Scooby! Scooby-dooby-doo!

Just as a reminder,
later on in the program

we're going to make some
groaty cakes with a modern twist

with cyrille Regis,
so don't tune out.

Maybe Johanna would be more
comfortable over there

while I announce the winner of
young Midlands poet of the year

Lee veltman.

Okay.

We're gonna keep
a tight formation

and you're gonna remember
krissi's crisis mantra.

Everyone can suck
a big bag of dicks.

Good girl. Come on.

Maybe no one saw it.

Yeah.

All good so far.

- Here she is. Scooby-doo!
- Yeah, fuck them all.

Scooby-doo! Scooby-doo!

Is your brother shaggy?
Shaggy...

Scooby-dooby-doo!

Go on.
Do you want Scooby snacks?

Here's your Scooby snacks, eh?

Can I help you, lads?

Hey, is that Karl boden?
What about it?

I fucked your mum back in '72.

Give her my regards, won't you?

- Oh, mate.
- Come on, let's go.

Go on inside, kids. Tea's ready.

Your mum's busy garnishing
the toast with beans.

Pat morrigan?
You have puppies for sale?

I do, yes.
Famous pups, as it happens.

Immortalized in poetry
on "today in the Midlands."

I'm from the dss.

We're investigating allegations
you've been illegally claiming

disability benefit whilst
breeding border collie dogs.

Not me, love.

No.

Rats, though.

We've got a big rat problem
around here.

I'm so sorry.

Losing the TV is tough

like when Beth dies
in "little women."

I have become
destroyer of the world.

I shall feast only on my misery.

And jam.

What have I done?
I've brought ruin upon our family.

I think I'm dying.

You are not dying, Johanna.

This is called anxiety.

Will jam make it better?

No, jam will not make it better.

I'm afraid you will
just have to accept this.

The thing is, I don't think

my main problem is anxiety,
Mr. Freud.

I just need money.
Money for the family.

But I am now a failed artist,
and when you're a failed artist

there's only one thing
you can do.

- You have to die.
- Johanna, no!

- No, you must live.
- No, you have so much to live for.

Johanna, honey, we need you.

No! Never.

I've got some good tips
on how to do it.

- What you doing?
- Working out how to die.

Fair enough.

Ask me why.

I know why.

I'd wanna die too
if I'd shamed myself

plunged my whole family
into poverty.

It's fair enough.
I would have advised it myself.

Maybe I'll commit the ultimate
sacrifice, cut my hair off

like Jo march, sell it.

I'm not sure cash converters
have a hair department, Johanna.

Stop moping.

Try this.
They're looking for writers.

It's a competition
to be a rock critic.

You might wanna give
your poetry a break.

"Live and breathe music?

"D-and-me are hiring
hip young gunslingers.

Show us what you've got."

I am none of those things.
You should do this.

I'm not a corporate
sell-out whore.

Those guys only write about
what they think is cool.

I write about what I love.

It just happens that
everything I love is cool.

A tenyear-old
could be a rock critic.

Now I just need some modern rock
to critic.

Touch that and die.

- My god.
- This is a classic.

Pd there'll be sun j

hey.

Emily and Charlotte bronte
shared quills.

Yeah, well,
I want it back by 5:00.

And you are so Anne.
Don't start that again.

Jp tomorrow tomorrow j

js I love ya tomorrow

pd oh... jd

that's disgusting.

Are you dying?

No.

This is a period, lupin.

It is why women have been
oppressed throughout history.

Till the twin-tub was invented

we were too busy scrubbing
to agitate for the vote.

Will I get a period?

Yes.

Johanna.

Hello?

Interview.

Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm.

Jp tomorrow tomorrow j

js I love ya tomorrow

jp tomorrow tomorrow j

js I love ya tomorrow

Jp

I know prince is short

but you've made him look like
a sex case oompa loompa.

Tell him to take off
his top or something.

Enbiggen him, if necessary.

Oh, just seventeen's
on the 23rd floor, love.

Thank you, but no.

I'm Johanna morrigan.
I have an interview for the job.

Hot young gunslinger.

Fucking hell.

Right, there goes a tenner.
Andy, you win.

Sorry, we didn't think you
were real, love. What?

Well, a 16-year-old girl

reviewing the soundtrack
to Annie?

We just thought it was
the dicks at nme winding us up.

But did you think
my writing was good?

Yeah, it was funny.

It made us laugh.
But it's not really us.

- So 1 go?
- I guess.

Here.

You've come a long way.

Have a free t-shirt.

Thank you.

I was right the first time.
I'm not cool.

I should just die.

Do you know
what cool people are, Johanna?

Cool, like the people
in that room?

Cool people are the worst.

They don't dance,

they wear uncomfortable
little trousers

and they're constantly
misquoting kerouac.

Have you read "on the road,"
Johanna?

Don't bother.

It is a very long book
about a man getting a lift.

Do you know what a good book is?

"Little house on the prairie."

She makes her own knickers,
and her dad shoots a bear.

That's a story.

Come on, give your face a rinse

and dance back into that room.

I'm too scared.

Scared?

Darling, rooms like that
need girls like you.

This is why you are magic.

Look. Look!

I might not know much about

your Carter
the unstoppable sex machine

or your sultans of ping fc,
or your fire drill next Tuesday

but if you think I'm funny
and I can write

then... then it can't be
harder to learn about

than the periodic table

and I got a 98 percent
on that test.

I only failed on kr.

Krypton is my kryptonite.

I... I could improvise,
like the hot, bad jazzers.

Coltrane and mingus.

Give her
the manic street preachers.

You're doing the manics, Tony.

I have just scalped Morrissey.
I'm exhausted from the kill.

I need to rest in the shade.

Besides, you didn't tell me

the manics were in Birmingham.

I'm not really feeling
regional right now.

Try her.

Well, fuck it. Yeah, trial run.

Johanna,
you get to make first contact

with the demented welshmen.

Man the barricades for us, yeah?

Leaping lizards!

Okay.

What?

Are you in fact being Annie
right now?

Yes, sir.

Enjoy the munificent
ten-p per word.

I will.

I'm much obliged to you, sir.

I'll remember that.

I have nothing to wear.

That is not factually correct.

Nothing to wear
for who I need to be.

The best item of clothing I own
is my hair.

Is my hair.

You look like captain caveman.

Krissi.

Absolutely not.

I've been saving that
for three years.

This is nine pounds forty-eight.

Yeah, well, the fanzine
has a lot of overheads.

Revolutionary independence
is costly.

That's okay. I can totally
transform myself

for nine pounds forty-eight.
Hmm.

I need this.

Observe the world's greatest
eyeliner.

J

Good god,
it's the child catcher.

No. Johanna morrigan is dead.

This, this is the legendary
Dolly wilde.

Mega.

You never forget
your first gig, bab.

It's like your first kick
in the balls.

Changes your life.

Now get your ears
around my remix.

Your dad's gone up a level.

Do you like this one?
I've done it rave style.

I'm on one, love. And I'm back.

Next live aid, I'm getting the
Phil Collins slot, both of them.

No, fuck it, three.
I'll do Africa and all.

P

Too right.

For I'm the bastard son
of Brendan behan

and one day these fuckers
will all bow down to me.

Whoo!

Look at that. The Midlands.

When I was your age,
the only thing we cared about

was how to escape.

So, you either become a boxer

a footballer or a pop star.

It's the only way.

Obviously, I chose pop star.

But you... you've got
your writing, bab.

You've found a new way.

I know.

I meant for me, like.
Get me in the papers.

I know what to do
this time around.

First time around
I was a right twat.

I'm ready for it now.

The songs are ready.
They're all killer.

You'll know
when it's the right time.

Yeah, hey, hey!
Access all areas. Come on.

What are your expenses like?
Ah...

Can I get a pint of guinness,
please, and a whisky chaser?

If only we were in Dublin, eh?
Get a proper pint.

Good evening.

You alright, Birmingham?
Good to be back.

Manic street preachers
by Dolly wilde.

April 8th, Edwards no. 8,
digbeth, Birmingham

west Midlands, United Kingdom,
the world, milky way.

We come from urban hell,
and we destroy rock 'n' roll.

» we won't die of devotion
understand we can never belong j

D love jd

pdus jp

jl» you love us you love us

"At 9:00 P.M. last night

"rock and roll
meant nothing to me.

By midnight, it was the most
important thing in the world."

Yow gonna buy that?

You gonna buy that?

I'm a newsagent's,
not a library.

Look, Mr. s. I'm a byline.

I'm hearing the word buy
and I'm liking it.

I've got your dad's bill here,
$27.48.

Dad has a bill here?

Yeah.

Charge them to the account,
Mr. s.

I'm a rock critic now.

I come from urban hell
and I describe rock and roll.

Edward's no. 8.

Bath moles.

Rayleigh pink toothbrush.

Derby warehouse.

Wilde.

Windsor old trout.

King tut's wah wah hut.

Dudley jb's.

For when the house is too small

and your bones itch to dance

and you pretend the dry ice
is getting you high

and it doesn't feel right until
your clothes cling to you

with sweat.

These are the places you come

where you can dance and scream

and be with your own kind

and where everything
is possible.

- See you later.
- Bye.

- Love you!
- We love you!

Wake up, fucko. School.

Come on.

Yeah, shut up.

So this is Dolly wilde,
from d-and-me.

My sister.

There you go.

- Nice one. Come on.
- There.

- Let's have a look.
- Lu.

I think that's for you, love.

And this one's yours, krissi.

Dad, have you got rice?

Dad.

You've taken the last chow mein,
son.

I've been left with rice.
I love chicken chow mein.

Johanna, are these twats
for you?

- Are you girl from d-and-me?
- I am she.

These are the strange cages
from bilston.

So sorry about that.
Pat, will you deal with this?

Yeah, come on in, lads.
Nice one.

Nice to meet you. Yeah, yeah.

- You the bass player?
- Yeah.

You'd be better off over here,
mate.

A nice bit of separation there,
yeah.

It's not quite what I meant.

This isn't the friggin'
commitments.

So first up is a song
about unrequited love.

It's called
"Annabelle, my bloodied heart."

You'd have a better chance
with Annabella

if you gave your hair a wash,
love.

Hold on a minute, lads.

Lads, just... just
stop you there.

You're lagging a bit on the drums.
What the hell-

- you are, yeah.
You're not keeping time right.

Come here, just step aside.
Let me have a little go.

Come here. I'll show you
a few little tricks here.

I'll show you a bit
of rock 'n' roll.

Are you ready?

One, two, three, four.

Jp

Where are you going?

What are we supposed to
do with that lot?

Dolly wilde's on the move,
like aslan.

Right, well,
it's Johanna morrigan's turn

to clean out the deep-fat fryer.

This bitch be paying rent,
krissi.

You're not friggin' Superman,
you know.

You're just a girl in a hat
typing jangly.

- Alright, come on. Story.
- Oh, yeah.

Drink?

No, thank you, sir.
I'm high on mere life.

1 od'd on life once.

Someone blew life
right up my ass.

So, how is life in the world
of the hot child genius?

I love the new look, by the way.

Very wild, Ms. wilde.

Thank you, sir.
Life is frustrating.

Oh, I hate to hear about
a woman being frustrated.

I don't seem to be progressing
as I thought I would.

I want bigger things.

Well, in my experience

the world welcomes women
who ask for big things.

So I should just ask?

Ask and it will be given.

I'm telling you.
It is, it has to be.

It has to be. Kenny, trust me.

Kenny, sir,
may I ask you a question?

- Fire away.
- Can I write a feature, please?

- A feature?
- I want to interview someone.

Let me interview someone.
I like bands. They're friendly.

To you, my darling,
of course they are.

Talk to derby about features,
alright?

Sir, I think I'm ready
to take on more responsibilities

and stretch myself.

I very much see part of my job

as helping young women
stretch their responsibilities.

Sit here and tell me
more about it.

Sir?

Sit here?

Watch this. Watch this.

This was a good idea.
This is fun.

Does anyone else want a go?
This is awesome.

I mean, it's not as good as a chair,
like all you guys have

but it's definitely second best.

Maybe we could wrestle, too. No.

No, okay, you've got
the feature, okay?

You can do John kite in Dublin.

They're my thank-you bounces.

Please make sure your
seat's back and tray tables

are in the full upright
positions

and that your seatbelt
is correctly fastened...

So the gig's at 10:00 P.M.

We'll do the interview first
in the pub.

Are all planes this small?

Here's some clippings
and some photos.

U'v I w, you've heard
his new record yes?

Is this turbulence?

We haven't taken off yet.

They say flying
is the safest mode of transport

but surely that's walking.

Then after the show,

I'll be with John kite
at all times...

- Oh, god, what's happening?
- Eh?

Well, we've just gone
above the clouds.

John, what are you
talking about? Come back to me.

Let's just do it in the pub,
you know.

- Listen...
- John. D-and-me's here.

John. D-and-me.
This is Dolly wilde.

Alright, duchess?
Pleasure to meet you.

Shall we, uh,
brutalize ourselves with gin?

Oh, I would just like
some pop, please.

- Do you want a cigarette?
- No, thank you.

Ah. Well, I applaud
your brightness.

When you start smoking

you think that you've bought
a fun baby dragon.

You think that you've charmed
a fabulous beast

that will impress both your
enemies and your friends.

Then, 20 years later,
you wake up

with your lungs full of cinder,
the bed's on fire

and you realize
the dragon grew up

and burned your
fucking house down.

- So, the interview...
- Ah, the interview.

My first question is, if you
had to murder someone evil

how would you do it?

- That is an amazing question.
- What's your worst song?

- Oh, I don't know.
- Which is the best beatle?

Well, that's quite a...

What would you spend a pound on
in a sweet shop?

Darling, have you ever done,
like, an interview before?

No. I will be honest with you.

I've never done
an anything before.

I'm quite new.

I went on a plane today
for the first time.

- Do you know how amazing it is?
- Tell me.

Today I learned
an astounding thing.

It's always sunny
above the clouds.

However awful it is on earth

if you go high enough,
it's always summer.

Isn't that amazing?

- Ed, we're finished here, mate.
- I have other questions.

Look, darling, if you think
I'm gonna sit here

bollocking on about me

when you're both mad as Jesus
and new to abroad.

Come on. We're going out.

Welcome to the world.

James Joyce's favorite pub.

In ulysses, it's Davy byrnes.

Come on, boy. Watch out.
Rock star here.

- John, how you doing?
- Yeah, I'm alright, mate. I'm good, yeah.

Let's get you started...

Same old routine, eh?

You ready? Good. It's all good.

There you go.

Thanks.

Come on.

Come on, let's do it.

This is the duchess.

Right, I am reliably informed
by melody maker

that I break hearts
in two, so...

Safety goggles on, eh?

Classy.

I'm having this.

Hotel tax, innit?

For the honor of my company.

I do have a proper question now.

Hit me.

Why are your songs so sad?

Oh, baby, now, that's a...

That's big one.

Well...

You see, I was, uh...

Born in a crossfire hurricane.

No, that's a quote.

"Jumpin' Jack flash."

The stones?

Have you never listened
to the stones?

I have the "best of"
reserved at the library

but there are six other
reservations ahead of me.

And yet you can quote "ulysses."

Well, no one reserved that
at the library.

I bet.

Well...

Like you, baby, I'm a scratcher.

I was born in blackwood,
south wales valleys

in a crossfire drizzle.

My mother had my three sisters

and then she got ill.

We'd go and visit her
in hospital and, uh...

She, uh,
she didn't wanna touch us.

It made her cry.

And when we'd say goodbye

she'd press the tips of her
fingers to her mouth

press it on our mouths,
and say, "this is John's kiss."

And the little ones, you know,
they just wanted their mum.

When she, uh, decided to die...

I'd go into her wardrobe
and... put on her coat

and hug 'em...

So they could smell her,
you know.

I read somewhere
that's what you do with puppies.

You... put 'em in
a cardboard box

with a blanket that smells
of their mother.

And your dad?

This is all off the record now,
of course.

We are off road now,
and off balance, too.

This is far too much about me.

You, tell me one true thing
about you.

Whose eyes do you have?

Whose, whose wonder?

I used to think that anyone
who didn't have my mother...

My eyes are hers.

Or my father,
he's the one who loves the world

was so unlucky.

They might as well
just lie down and die.

But then she had
the unexpected twins.

And now she's just...

I miss her.

Even though she's there.

So I guess I write

because that's like...

Putting a wish into a bottle,
isn't it?

Baby, I think we are both
in the business

of putting wishes in bottles.

I mean, that's the whole
business we're in.

Do you want some nuts?

- Hmm.
- Alright.

- I love a bath.
- Oh! Me too.

I just don't understand showers.
They're depressing.

It's like standing in the rain
on purpose.

But I love doors.

They make the outside stop.

- Ah! I love doors now.
- Hm.

I've fallen in love with doors.
They're amazing.

- But do you love dogs?
- What? Do I love dogs?

I absolutely love dogs.

What's your favorite
type of dog?

Ey, love.

- I am irreversibly in love.
- Oh, nice one, bab.

I've got a gammon on the go,
if you want a slice.

Dad...

I brought you a proper pint
from Dublin,

like you always wanted.

Thank you very much for that,
love. That's great.

Look at that. Proper pint.

Oh! It's a bit flat.

John's nuts.

I don't know what to write.

Ah!
The ecstatic torture of love.

The socioeconomic conditions

that lead to the dominance
of working-class rock and roll.

Just write from the heart, Jo,
and into the bank balance.

Love that.

John kite interview, Dublin

by Dolly wilde.

Some people
aren't just people but...

A place.

A whole world.

Sometimes you find someone
you can just live inside.

Jl I tell them
my day-making girl

You are the whole world.

Come with me.

Let yourself go.

Johanna?

Johanna...

- Johanna, let me in.
- Go away.

Saving the world

J

- Johanna.
- Uh! Go away, krissi!

What you doing in there?

Let me in.

Sounds like you're whisking
something.

Johanna, I've just had a really
flirty half an hour

with John kellog on the 512

and I need to share.

Ugh!

I was working.

What, on how to skin him
and wear him as a coat?

Listen, I finished it.

"John kite in Dublin.

"He's not a beautiful boy,
nor a tall one

"but when the wind blows in
on the street corner

"you can hear his heart beat
under his shirt.

And when conversation
accelerates..."

"You can hear his mind
chime like a clock.

"He is bright, bright, bright

"like the lantern above a pub
door in November.

"He makes you wanna come in
and never leave.

"When he smiles, it's like
plugging in a wurlitzer.

The dance floor floods
with jivers."

And this, Tony, this is why
we don't employ little girls

to write our newspaper.

I've never been
in an organization

that wasn't improved
from hiring jailbait.

Shirley temple is fired.

What you doing, bab?

Waiting for a phone call

that determines
my entire future.

How long you been waiting?

Since 10 o'clock this morning.

I know the feeling, love.

I've been waiting for mine
since 1978.

Ah! Keep at it, cocker.

Ring.

Ow!

Ring.

Is this all?

I kind of lost my mojo, Mrs. b.

I'm doubting my authorial voice.

I don't need your authorial
voice, Johanna.

I need 500 words on
Anna Karenina by 11:20.

I can give you the headline.

"Unhappy girl throws herself
under a train. Fair enough."

As things stand,
you're headed to a future

stacking chear on the cheese
counter at safeway.

You're kind of crushing my

already faltering
zest for life, Mrs. b.

Yes. I'm the cold light of day.

A hope smasher.

A teacher.

Dolly wilde.

- Ah! No, love.
- I should be.

Try Johanna morrigan.

Neither of you
are on here, love.

Don't you know who I thought
I was six weeks ago?

You're funny.

You should be a writer
or something.

You're still not
coming in though.

No!

No! No!

You've hit rock bottom?

Amazing. Details now, please.

I was so close.

I had the perfect life.
I had friends.

I was almost out of here.

Now it's gone.

I'm 16 and I'm over.

You can't be over.

You don't have the privilege
of that option, do you?

You cannot deny physics,
darling.

You are the unstoppable force.

So... don't stop.

Come on, let me walk you home.

Alright. Cool.

Let's just freakin' wake up.
Come on.

This is definitely
goin' out as well.

Nothing else. No way.

I don't ever want to hear that...

Yes. Alright, boss. Yeah.

You're slacking. Make sure that
bit is right in the mile.

I've hit the glass ceiling.

I'm an unstoppable force,
and yet I'm being stopped. Why?

Well, what you don't understand
yet is that this is war.

War?

There's only 15 or 20 bands
out there who really matter

ones who can change
people's lives.

So?

So our job here
is to remove the parasites

napalm them from their huts,
clear the way.

- Yes, yes, yes...
- That's alright.

I could, uh,
I could listen to that.

Baby...

That John kite feature,
Kenny wasn't impressed.

You just sounded like
an excited teenage girl.

I am an excited teenage girl.

Well, fan or hack?

Decide.

If I want to get ahead

I've got to get a hate?

We need you.

So everyone my whole life
has lied to me.

A nice girl gets nowhere.

But a bitch...

A bitch can make a comeback.

I have no choice.

Pop has a new gatekeeper,
Dolly wilde.

And I will not let you through
if you think it's acceptable

to dress like work-experience
vampires

and I mean you, the hallows.

"This is rock and roll, guys,
not a clown hair competition."

It is a truth

universally acknowledged

that Paul Simon looks like a toe

someone drew a face on.

Joni Mitchell, voice of an angel

face of a grand national winner.

Who is this bitch Dolly wilde?

Hippies, just so you know

there is no such thing
as a didgeridoo player.

That is a man mooing
down a pipe.

This is horrible,
like ear cystitis.

Now it'sin... j

guys, when did the burglar
steal your talent?

I'm calling the police.

"Jump around" by house of pain

is the kind of music
testicles would make.

- Alright, mate. Bye.
- Here you go, mate.

Dude.

Dolly wilde,
every single letter.

You're welcome.

What do you reckon?

No, stop. Halt. Stop this.

- Oh, this is bad.
- Stop. Stop this.

Whatever happened
to raindrops on roses

and whiskers on kittens,
Johanna?

They don't pay the rent.

- Dolly!
- Dolly! Dolly!

Hi! How're you?

May 1?

So, you don't have to worry

about that hymen anymore,
krissi.

It's gone.

I've literally
taken one for the team.

The team of sex.

I'm post-virginity.

And it turns out,
I'm really good at it.

Everyone wants a piece
of Dolly wilde

and god wisely made enough
to go around.

So I'm entering my
inevitable period of

intense sexual experimentation.

I've done it with someone
from west bromwich.

I've done it with
a freaky foot guy.

I did with a man who faints
every time he sees a nipple.

And just last night

I encountered something
I didn't think was possible.

A penis that was too big.

Luckily, I'm a quick learner.
I'll give you my tips.

One, when in missionary

place your hands
flat on his chest

and brace, brace,
brace with your arms.

Two, in doggy

you can essentially keep
crawling away from the penis.

Every time he tries to get
a bit more inside

you just gallop a little faster.

- Kris?
- I'm gonna be sick.

Kris!

Kris! Kris!

You can share some of your
sexual experiences

such as they may be.

Hm...

You need to be more repressed.

So, anyway, between us girls

in all this, the only thing
I haven't learned is this,

how does a man make you come?

Ooh!
I know what you're saying...

Oh, well,
that is the big question.

- Well, we managed without.
- Speak for yourself.

I like to give myself
a damn good wuthering.

I did try it once,
but ll... I didn't like it.

You just have to have a little
file with yourself, darling.

That's exactly what I did.

That's my girl.

Jeeves.

These boots need a lift
to the station.

Darling, I would love to

but, uh, there's been a bit
of a development.

Where's the Van?

You've inspired me, love.

I sold it.

You've sold it?

Where the bloody hell
did you appear from?

I manifest whenever someone
sells my fucking car.

- Why did you sell it?
- To do this.

- Here, look, you.
- Unbelievable.

- Huh?
- Not again, pat.

I got these done and all.

Mayonnaise...

You called yourself mayonnaise?

You sold the cow
for magic beans.

Do you not have any faith
in our daughter, Angie?

You can make me,
can't you, love?

Absolutely. I'm all over it.

The thing about crossing over
to the dark side

is that once you're there,
it doesn't feel dark at all.

Hello.
Dolly, how you doing, girl?

It feels warm and welcoming.

You and your friends are just
taking care of business.

- To evil.
- To evil.

Mmm.

- Votes on this. Keep?
- Yes.

- Whoa!
- Majority vote. It lives.

- I think so.
- Next one.

This is imported, man.
I'm not messing about.

- Fuck, no!
- Oh! That's bad.

- No.
- This is raping my ears.

- Kill.
- Kill it.

- Kill.
- Kill!

- Kill!
- You do it this time.

- Kill!
- Kill!

- Kill! Kill!
- Throw.

Here we go.

- Cracker.
- Good shot, sir.

Right, what's this one called?

- Don't know.
- Yeah, it's a bit scary.

- Cheers.
- Here have some of this.

Alright.

This is some Malawi-wowie,
do you want some?

- Yeah.
- Have a twig at that.

Does it matter
what someone looks like?

Oh, right, says the woman who
last week described Tori Amos

as having both the hair
and future of a mammoth.

What's the band?
What're they called?

- Mayonnaise.
- Mayonnaise?

Who right now would
go to their desk and write

"n I love mayonnaise?"

- Not me.
- Kill it.

- Kill it!
- Kill it!

- Kill it.
- Kill.

Kill it.

- Kill! Kill!
- Kill! Kill!

Time for your first blood,
darling.

- Kill! Kill!
- Killl kill!

- Kill! Kill!
- Kill! Kill!

- Kill!
- Kill!

You're so out of the loop, man.

- Big moment.
- Go on, Dolly!

Throw.

- Nice!
- Yes, Dolly.

I just shot dad.

Nice work, Dolly. Yes!

Whoo-hoo!

Pd hitit jp

- Dolly!
- Hey, Dolly..

Dolly! Dolly!

Come on.

Oh, right, up.

Bit of love, bit of hate
in the room there.

Thank you.
Your hate is delicious.

- Whoo!
- Oh, hey!

Cheers!

And now to the most hotly
contested award of the night.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen,
it's arsehole of the year.

And in a year packed
with contenders

the winner proves that feminism
really is making advances.

The woman who suggested the
world would be a better place

if Eie veer from Pearl jam

ripped off another idea
from Kurt cobain

and shot himself to death.

It's Dolly wilde!

Sit on my face!

Sit on your own goamn face.
I'm too busy.

Whoo!

Ladies and gentlemen,
Dolly wilde

arsehole of the year.

Let's hear it once more
for Dolly wilde.

You're a good person,
aren't you?

I definitely need some guidance.
That's without a doubt.

- Hello.
- Got a light, dude?

Oh, are you smoking now,
duchess?

Yeah.

It's just, eh, most people
tend to smoke 'em the, ah

the other way round.

There you go.

Aren't you going to congratulate
me on my award?

I'm arsehole of the year.

Do you wish me to
congratulate you on that?

I'm the best at a thing.

Well, then, I wholeheartedly
congratulate you

on your peerless evil.

Thank you.

You think it's ignoble?

I'm a massive fan
of your bullshit.

I think you are smashing it,
hogwash-wise.

Mm. There's no greater rule
than "bitch gotta pay rent."

I've always preferred, in the end,
"say one true thing."

Okay.

I am in love with you.

I am in love with you.

What?

You want one true thing.

- Johanna.
- Now, we should kiss.

That's not me, Dutch.

That's not my way.

John?

Yeah, let's go.

Has St. winifred's school choir
had too much pop?

Ah. We must never forget
that it's a miracle

when anyone gets anywhere
from a bad post code.

And we must always be
respectful of miracles.

Ahh.

I'll be respectful, then.

Clever girl.

Whoo!

One true thing?

Okay, I'll write one true thing.

"The real John kite.

"He finally opens up over his
heartbreaking childhood

"his mother's suicide

"and the origins
of that iconic coat

by the journalist that
knows him best, Dolly wilde."

Fuck. Exclusive.

You've got a front cover.

Ask me.

- No.
- Ask me.

No.

Please, krissi, be happy for me.

I won a thing.

And, by the way

I made a man who went to
university at Cambridge

ejaculate into my
comprehensively

educated genitals.

Con-spunkulations.

Do you wanna ask me about my
date with John kellog

and his bag?

After I promised
on our mother's life

that I would never ever
tell anyone

we drove 15 miles out
into the countryside

blocked out all the windows
with towels...

And kissed.

Our dark queen.

I won!

I'm arsehole of the year!

I woke up in London.

I'm too sexual for this room.

Johanna, enough.

This delinquency phase,
it's just not working.

- You need to choose.
- Oh!

You're right.

So I resign.

- Oh, no!
- No.

No, Johanna.

Class, take out your
"taming of the shrew."

Johanna.

Johanna, stop.

Stop.

No offense, but Patti Smith
didn't keep getting harassed

to take the gerbil home
at weekends.

I'm going to get my kicks
while I'm still young.

My future turned up early.

I'm not going
to keep it waiting.

The future can be
awfully short, Johanna.

I haven't got
anywhere else to go.

Johanna?

I don't want to look at you,
Johanna.

No, I don't want to
look at you, Johanna.

- I'm sick of it.
- What?

Six months ago,
you were a happy girl actually

being useful around the house.

And now I've got him
telling me that

you've cock-blocked his career.

- I never said that.
- Him in tears...

To be clear, they were
intellectually justified

tears of rage.

Saying that
you've treated him like a...

- An indolent hobbyist.
- Yeah.

And, and now your
teacher's on the phone

saying that you've resigned.

So my question to you, Johanna

is when did you lose
your fucking mind?

I guess it was around the time
I stopped being your daughter

and became the rent.

The same time I like to think

you became absolutely
disqualified

from criticizing me.

We're your parents.
We can always criticize ya.

No, not if you aren't actually
doing any parenting of me

and you are selling cars
I bought in order to fund

"springtime for Hitler,
a jazz odyssey."

Oh, my god.

There's still no one saying,
"sorry, Johanna."

Or, "well done, Johanna."

Or, "things must have been
hard for you, Johanna."

Do you think all this is normal?
Do you think I'm normal?

Well, it's not.
None of this is normal.

I invested that money
in our future.

It's not our future.

You're not the future.
Don't you understand?

Do you know what happened when
I played them your record, dad?

They shot it with a gun.

They laughed at it first,
obviously.

And then they threw it
off a roof and I shot it.

Don't you get it?

I'm the future.
I'm paying for everything.

Let's see how you manage without
me, Ringo, Ringo and Ringo.

Fuck you all.

Whoo!

Everyone, look who's come
to join our happy tribe.

Yes!

It's the arsehole of the year.

Let's get a drink. Get a drink.

Emilia...

Natasha, Sasha.

This is Dolly wilde.

- She's trouble.
- Yes, I am trouble.

Come, join us, trouble.

In fact, make that a double
for the trouble.

- Trouble.
- There you are.

Dolly wilde.

How would you like to become
a full-time staff member

of d-and-me?

That's 19 grand a year.

The youngest person ever
to join the staff.

I accept.

Oh. Come here, baby.

- Mm.
- I feel sick.

Here it comes.

Okay, Tony, it's your turn.
Come on.

Okay, so never have I
ever given a wank.

Liar. Two words, Rupert Osborne.

I was the wankee,
not the wanker.

No, I wouldn't wank off
a day boy.

Never have I ever given a wank.

Well, it's your turn, Dolly.

- Mm.
- Go on.

Never have I ever
gone on holiday.

Why would you never
go on holiday?

Because we were poor.

- Oh.
- Forget that one.

Forget that one.
No, I have a better one.

Uh...

Never have I ever...

Kissed a girl.

Ah. Ah.

- Do you want to kiss a girl?
- Yes.

- No way.
- Ooh.

- Hi.
- Oh, no.

- Oh.
- Hello.

- Oh! See, I told you.
- Get in. Get in.

There he is.

Baby, you've gotta get in here.

Everything's happening
in here now.

Okay.

I'll improvise.

I'll be back in a mo. A sex mo.

- Oh!
- Oh.

I still can't see why we're
giving her a staff job.

Just 'cause Tony likes
a little bit of rough?

It took me four years
to get on the staff.

- She's good for circulation.
- Not if she sits on your lap.

- Would you do her?
- Well...

I'd have to lay out the terms
and conditions

but, yes, I would do her

but I wouldn't let her
suck me off.

Too chatty. She might bite.
Uh! I like her.

Mental girls
from council estates.

- Ah!
- That is my thing.

- Pygmalion.
- Yes.

Just like pygmalion,
but with a real pig.

- Oh!
- Oh!

Do you know who
pygmalion's father is?

- No. Who?
- Mayonnaise.

Oh, mayonnaise!

Tony, you gonna
hold the Mayo tonight?

Well, I might have Mayo
on the side, you know.

I like to offer
a comprehensive education.

Educate me?

Educate me?

Let's get one thing straight
right now.

I'm a lady sex pirate

a swash-fuckler, a lustketeer.

Where I come from,
you make your own amusement.

You rinse every last drop
out of every last day

because there isn't
anything else.

I've been chased and humiliated
and been utterly alone

and I still got up,
put on my lipstick

and wrote every last one of you
motherfuckers off the page.

"John kite isn't a person
but a whole world."

At least I meant that.

None of you mean
anything that you write.

You're all just little boys
smashing things up.

I'm 16 and three quarters,
and I'm too old this.

Tony?

Tony?

I am not your bit of rough.

You were my bit of posh.

And you are all nothing
on the shoes of my father

for I am the bastard son
of Brendan behan

and one day, you will all
bow down to me!

Is this home, love?

Yeah.

Thanks.

Where're you going?

Away from you.

Krissi.

John kite keeps calling you.

He left a message for you.

"His worst song is Alison."

"The best beatle is Paul."

“In a sweet shop he would spend
a pound on pineapple rock.

"I apologize to Johanna for not
ending the interview there.

I should not have burdened her
with my friendship."

Oh, god, mum, what do I do?

Sorry.

Hello.

Hello.

Anyone?

Di cannot j

pd some kind of clue j

d yet I'm still j

Johanna.

Johanna.

Johanna!

I really can't believe it,
Malcolm.

- Right, here we go.
- Wow!

- Where's he gone?
- She turned her dog blue.

If you're very, very good,
I'll show...

We've screwed this up.

What are we gonna do, bab?

Go on in there, love.

Please enter the adjacent ward.

Please enter the adjacent ward,
please.

Have you got it there?
You have ain't ya.

Is it behind your ear?
I haven't got it.

Alright, let me have a look.
Here we go.

Have I got another one?

I think
I've got another one here.

Mum, please talk to me.

You were my magic, happy girl.

You used to be.

Happy girls shouldn't talk to...

Sad, old, s... scared women.

You might catch it.

Budge up, bab.

Bab, don't hurt yourself.

Bastard world will do that
for you anyway.

Don't hurt yourself.

Sorry.

There she is.

Mum! Johanna!

Hiya, bab.

Aw.

- How are you, love?
- Yeah, alright.

- Alright?
- Yeah.

- There you go.
- Hello.

- Mm-hmm.
- Hello.

Hello.

He's cool, isn't he?
He's not Anthony.

Can I call you tone? No. Tony.

Right, okay, Tony.
Are you watching?

"Ya.n

what?

You've written what looks like
"U2" on your arm.

No, I... I...

I didn't mean to. The...

It's a typo.

They're... they're just meant to
be bold, agonized slashes.

It looks like you tried
to kill yourself for bono.

Alright.

Now let's take the bastards
into a jazz break.

Awake, wall of gods.

Speak, feel, breathe, live.

Johanna, we've missed you.

It's good to be awake again.

What month even is it?
What have we missed?

I became evil, but it's July now
and I'm over it.

- That's wonderful.
- Come on, give me five.

I'm applying for the job
of flatmate.

Well, I want to apply
for trainee writer

on whatever it's called,
your mag.

Okay, you're hired.

- My going word rate...
- Oh, get off.

Hey, ow! Get off! Krissi!
Krissi! Stop it.

You were a nightmare.
Don't do it again.

And it stinks of smoke,
and mum's gonna kill you.

Hello. Is that Rob Allan,
lead singer of the hallows?

It's Dolly wilde here.

You've got some nerve
calling me.

Have you any idea what you did?

Yes, yes, yes. I know.

That's actually why I'm ringing.

I wanted to apologize to you
for the review.

That you are, "a shit-wizard

a weasel in a waistcoat
making musical lime scale."

Was wrong. I know that now. Bye.

Jl I'll stand by you

jl I'll stand by you

Too old for the children's ward

too young for the adult ward.

Why 16 is the worst age
to self-harm.

By Johanna morrigan.

Johanna?

God, you're young.

Come on in.

No, I, I didn't think it was
possible to laugh so much

given the subject matter

and cry, obviously,
and laugh again.

And we were passing this
around the office

like drugs or a baby.

This is what
you should be writing.

Do you know what you'd look like

tearing apart records
for the music press?

You look like an olympic swimmer
in a bathtub.

But this, this, we would like
to run in the next issue.

Why, thank you.
Thank you very much, ma'am.

And start you
with a monthly column

like a monthly letter
from you telling us

what you've been up to.
Building a girl.

Would you like that job?

Ma'am, I am more obligated
than I can express.

And are you in fact pretending
to be Elvis right now?

No. I... I think this is me now.

For now.

Good. You're hired.

Get out. I'm busy.
Okay. Thank you.

In the last week,
I've apologized to 133 bands

for the bad reviews
I've written about them.

But there is one person

to who I owe more than
just, "I'm sorry."

John!

John.

Mr. kite.

I promise I won't take
more than one minute.

I will talk extra, extra fast.

I should never
talk to you again.

I know.

I know. I am so sorry.
I have two things for you.

This is the first.

My brother's fanzine.

That's the original piece
I wrote about you.

The one they wouldn't
let me print.

That's how I really feel.

The other piece...

Was a terrible,
terrible mistake.

- Yeah, well, you sold me, babe.
- I know.

That's why the other thing
I want to give you is...

This.

- A tail?
- It's my hair.

I tried to think of what would
be the ultimate sacrifice

the thing I would be
most upset about if I lost it.

Your hair?

I took something of you.

Now I'm giving you
something of me.

Come on.

This is all very beautiful

but it's not really about me,
is it?

It's about you.

And how in love
with the world you are.

Don't stop.

It's your thing.

This is my embarrassment booth.

I'm sorry I tried to kiss you.

Listen, darling,
we probably will kiss one day.

That's just statistics, baby.

How will we not end up
falling terribly, terribly in love?

It's just the age thing now,
babe.

Too young.

Not you, Dutch. Me.

I'm far too young for you.
Hopeless.

Love is a big old beast.

I am?

I'm gonna move to London
when I turn 18.

Go to gay clubs. Buy a piano.

See? You need to go out there
and have some adventures.

And I would, uh...

I would like to audition

for the role of your confidant.

I would like the honor
of being your friend.

You should write a song
about me.

No.

You will.
I'm incredibly inspiring.

Hm, nothing rhymes with Johanna.

Nothing rhymes with Layla
or prudence or sharona.

Oh!

Come on.

Let's go and fuck up
the next ten years.

I have school on Monday.

Then we'll fuck it up
after 3:30 P.M.

So... what do you do
when you build yourself

only to realize you built
yourself with the wrong things?

You rip it up and start again.

Build up and tear down.

Endlessly, repetitively,
unceasingly.

Invent, invent, invent.

What will eventually be you?

One day, you'll marvel
over what you did.

Marvel how you tried to keep

the loud, drunken, laughing,

cutting, panicking,

unbearably present
secret of yourself

when, really, you were just
about as secret as the moon.

And as luminous
under all those clothes.

And how,
like all the best quests

you did it all for a girl, you.

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