All language subtitles for Gambit.2012.720p.BluRay.X264-AMIABLE.eng

- This is the story of my brave,
foolish friend, Harry Deane.

Mr Deane's work
as an art curator in London

had gone, he felt,
largely unappreciated.

He told me of countless insults
suffered at the hands of his employer,

Lionel Shabandar,
media tycoon, art collector

and an absolute brute of a fellow.

Do not touch my person. You!

- Yes, my lord?
- Idiot! Give me your boot.

40 years ago,
I'd have called this Shabandar a cad.

Now the prevailing parlance
for a fellow of this type

is, I believe, shitbag.

Hello.

This bloody thing is not operational.

Ah, well, that's because,
I believe, my lord...

Because you believe what,
you steaming turd?

Now he would have his revenge,

for Mr Deane had a plan.

To be grandiose, a heist.

To be accurate, a bit of a thieving.

This is where I came in.

I am, you see,
a rather capable forger of fine art.

I was pleased my little hobby
might prove of use to him.

The plan relied on securing the aid
of one PJ Puznowski.

"Find this Puznowski," Mr Deane told me,

and it would all fall nicely into place.

Excuse me.
We were given to understand

that there was an equestrian tourney
in the area.

Well, we got a law attorney,

don't know his religion,
up downtown Alpine.

He's a fairy.

Moved here from Albuquerque,

it'll be five, no,
six years ago, come May.

Not that I judge.

How terribly interesting, but is there
a tournament of some description

with various rowdy goings-on?

Rough-riding,
bronc-busting sort of thing.

It's a competition.
A test of skill involving farm animals.

Yippee-ai-yay.

Alright, Pecos!

This is the West of the Pecos Rodeo,
featuring America's number-one team,

Team Ghostrider with Tim Lepard
and his cowboy monkeys.

Go on, Suzie! Go get 'em!

And it's brought to you by Charlie
Goodnight and all those good people

down at Charlie Goodnight's
Implements 'n' Feed.

Let's put some hands together
for the monkeys!

And first out of the chute
is PJ Puznowski from down Terlingua way.

There.

Gonna try to put a rope around Rodney
from the Lazy L Sickle Y Bar Ranch.

And, folks,
Rodney ain't gonna be heppin' any.

That's 11.7 for PJ Puznowski!

- That's her.
- Alright, Jammies!

What makes you so certain
she'll be game?

Good God, she works in a poultry
processing plant for minimum wage.

- You think she'll turn this down?
- How much are you going to tell her?

Just as much as she needs to know.

That's nice.

This is Major Nigel Nelson-Wingate,
King's African Rifles, retired.

- Sunday painter.
- Madam.

Now, the simple question is,

how would you like to make
half a million pounds sterling?

I have a little plan.

Straight?

- Have a good day, sir.
- Shut up.

- Sorry, sir.
- Bloody hell, man, be careful!

Shabandar Media.

I wonder if you might approve this last
photo layout for the Horse and Hunt.

Is there a problem, sir?

Slazenger, give me a loupe.

Haystacks, Dusk.

Get me Harry Deane.

Old man just called me up.

Yes, he's expecting you.

- No, no, no.
- Oh, I am sorry, sir.

What? Come in.
Have them proof it quick as possible.

We'll try and get it into next month's.
Deane, sit down.

Have a look at these.

I've sent the plane
to collect this woman.

Arrives at Heathrow in about an hour.
You'll pick her up.

Interesting. Oh, I see, the painting.

- A reproduction, though, in my opinion.
- Bloody hell. Based on what?

On the fact that it's hanging
on the wall of a caravan, sir, in Texas.

Yes, precisely.
But whose caravan, you plank?

- The cowgirl, sir.
- Puznowski, Deane.

PJ Puznowski. Think, man.

You stupid bastard, what!

Welcome to London.

Before we throw you
into the thick of it,

I should give you a bit
of the history.

Monet's Haystacks.

On September 15th, 1891, during
the course of one very productive day,

the master Impressionist

finished two oii paintings:

"Haystacks, Dawn",
"Haystacks, Dusk".

"Haystacks, Dawn" was traded
amongst various private collectors

over the years.

"Haystacks, Dusk" was put on display
in Paris at the Jeu de Paume.

That is,
until the Nazi occupation of 1941.

"Haystacks, Dusk"
was carted off to Carinhall,

the private residence
of Air Marshal Hermann Göring,

for the delectation of his eyes only.

In 1945, Carinhall is overrun
by the first division of Patton's army,

the Big Red One.

The point platoon is led
by Sergeant Brian "Bulldog" Puznowski,

the Killer of Kilgore, Texas.

Your grandfather.

For the next 67 years,
the whereabouts of Haystacks, Dusk

has proved one of the art world's
most tantalising mysteries.

And what is all this to Shabandar?

A man of outsized appetites
and enormous enthusiasms,

and no few eccentricities;
an avid nudist, a case in point.

Owing to his considerable fortune
and my not inconsiderable knowledge,

he has assembled
the most important collection

of Impressionist masterpieces
in private hands.

The prize? Haystacks, Dawn.

Acquired at auction 20 years ago
in spirited bidding.

The bid is with the gentleman
on the aisle. The bid is £8 million.

- Good heavens.
- I have eight and a quarter.

The bid is with the gentleman
on my left.

The bid is against you, sir. The bid
is eight and a quarter million pounds.

Shabandar rolled
all his competitive impulses into a ball

and outbid his great rival,
Akira Takagawa.

He purchased the painting
for £11 million.

His ownership of the one has merely
whet his appetite for the other.

For years now, Shabandar
has been seeking Haystacks, Dusk

with a passion
bordering on monomania.

When he saw that photograph,

Shabandar conducted his own
investigation into your family history.

Best to let the fish
work the hook in himself, eh, Major?

Much the best, Mr Deane.

He will want to negotiate
the price with you.

You must stick at 12 million.

Pounds.

He'll pay it,
no matter how much he protests.

Be firm. Be polite, but firm.

He will try to charm you.
He will try to impress you.

- Ms Puznowski!
- He will try to...

An honour! Welcome, welcome.

Painting in the gallery, men.

I knew a Koznowski once,
charming man, no relation I suppose.

Baron Koznowski. Quite the equestrian.
Man had horse blood in his veins.

This way, please.

Right, let's take a look, shall we?

Mere formality, of course.

Oh, yes.

So...

What do you think, Deane?

- Yes, I'll need a few moments, sir.
- Oh, yes. Quite.

You may not realise it,
Ms Puznowski,

but Harry Deane knows Monet
like I know...

Actually, I don't know anything
quite like that.

The artist has used a light ground
true to Monet's habit.

The palette is very limited,
no blacks or browns.

Cerulean blue and cadmium yellow
to achieve his broken colour.

And unlike the heartbreaking fraud
perpetrated on the Austrians,

the signature is correct.

It is Monet and it is very fine indeed.

And that, Mr Deane,
is good enough for me.

Shall we discuss terms?

System armed.

System armed.

- Hello, kitty.

Your wages.

£500,000 and your ticket home.
First class, of course.

No, no, no. No, no, no.
Please, do not thank us.

It is the Major and I who should be
thanking you for the self-possession,

the good humour and the élan with which
you played your small but vital part.

- Eh, Major?
- Hear, hear, sir. Jolly well played.

We should be arriving
at Heathrow in mere minutes.

Mr Deane.

Mr Deane? Mr Deane.

Shouldn't have to tell her
any more than that.

Quite right.
But you will have to talk to her.

Hmm.

Back in a flash.

Mr Deane, for all his talents,
was given to one particular flaw.

He saw the world
as he wished to see it.

But, as we know, an optimist is simply
a man who hasn't heard the news.

As my time in the African Rifles
had taught me,

one ignored the elephant in the room
at one's peril.

Half a million pounds sterling.
Half a million...

- Hello.
- I believe the lady said get lost.

I'll take the chunky one!

Gonna open a can of whup-ass
on you now.

Major, for heaven's sake,
just be gentle.

- I'm trying to get...
- No, that's enough.

- Those people are barbarians.
- Other countries, other customs.

- How are we going to meet this woman?
- I remember one night in Botswana...

She's surrounded
by a Cro-Magnon Swiss Guard.

This wasn't the plan, Major.
How are we going to get back on plan?

You boys OK, huh?

Faces still on right ways round?

Yes, thank you.
All present and correct.

I do apologise on Merle.
He just loves a brawl.

Nose been broke so many times,
he had the cartilage taken out

so there wouldn't be downtime
between bar fights.

An expedient we might consider
if we spend much more time in Texas.

Heigh ho, friend.
I wouldn't recommend it.

May I draw your attention to the matter
which brought us here to meet you?

Sure.

So you're saying
that's like $800,000 American? Wow!

We don't have the money yet.

- But it's gonna work out, right?
- As long as we stay on plan.

Sounds like you really wanna
stick it to this guy. Here we are.

Inside is a man who weighs half a ton.

Michael was fork-lifted onto a stretcher
for transporting killer whales.

Shame! Shame!

Hey, Grandma! Alright, well, here it is.
Take your pick.

- Plenty of walls to choose from.
- Good morning.

Too fat!

Major, if you'd like to set
your camera up over there.

Perhaps if your grandmother
would move over for a moment.

Grandma Merle, these nice people
wanna take a picture here in the house.

Is everyone in this state named Merle?

- There you go.
- Good God. Is she unwell?

Oh, no, she's fine.
Grandma Merle just chews.

Ms Puznowski, could you slide
a little closer to your grandmother?

Ready, ladies? Say cheese.

Hard facts,
honest reporting. Shabandar.

His door is rather firmly shut
at the moment.

- Would you care to wait?
- Yes, thank you, I'll wait.

Lionel Shabandar
explains his formula for success

in his startling
new autobiography, "Me".

Welcome to the jungle.
We're here to help you cut through...

Huh!

Shabandar Media. Creating...

Go right in, Mr Deane.

- Your lordship...
- Yes, Deane?

That's a very nice suit, sir.

- What?
- Nothing.

I was leafing through the advance
on the Horse and Hunt the other day.

- The layout pages.
- Why on earth were you doing that?

Well, as a matter of fact, it's...
Well, why be coy?

It's a simple explanation,
so simple, in fact, that I...

Well, it's my favourite of your...
of your publications, sir.

Our publications
here at Shabandar Media.

Without wanting to overstate things,
I would say it may be my favourite...

publication ever, without the...
qualification of Shabandar Media,

et cetera, et cetera.

- Do you ride?
- Good God, no.

That is, I have ridden.

A birthday party. They had ponies.
Little Shetland ponies.

We traipsed around
in a circle in the garden.

I was, oh, six, seven years old.

It was my friend
Bobby Montaigne's birthday party.

He's a speech pathologist now.

And how well I remember it.
Made a deep impression, sir.

- Is there something I can help with?
- Yes, sir, there is. Thank you.

You see, I snuck an advance peek,
as I said, at the Horse and Hunt.

I was struck most particularly
by the piece on this PJ Puznowski,

the Texan horse person.

Equestrienne,
not a mutant or a mythical creature.

One imagines a... well, the bosom
of a woman and the hindquarters of...

- Did you happen to see it, sir?
- Yes.

I was struck by one particular picture.

Haystacks, Dusk.

- Yes. Exactly, sir.
- A reproduction, of course.

Really? You think so, sir?
Based on what, if I may ask?

Based on the fact that it was hanging on
the wall of a bloody caravan in Texas.

There is that.

- Is that all?
- Yes, sir.

Thank you.

But shouldn't we check, do research?
I could put together a memo.

- One of your memos, yes.
- The painting is so rarely reproduced,

I don't even know
if I've seen a reproduction.

And it's the very incongruity of it,
hanging, as you so discerningly...

Fine. Ring this woman up
and ask if she has an original Monet

on the wall in Shitbird, Texas.

- Did he bite, our little fishy?
- He's not hooked yet.

- But he's circling the bait.
- Not sure I follow you, old thing.

He's seen the painting
and he's considering being intrigued.

- Considering?
- Considering being, yes.

- Where's the girl?
- In a hotel in Dallas.

- Why is she in a hotel in Dallas?
- The passport office is there.

It turns out that the dear girl's
never been out of the country.

Now, ordinarily, a passport takes
eight weeks, but they can expedite.

Pay a couple of hundred pounds,
they'll hurry it along.

That's very nice of them.
Couple of hundred.

Right.

Your post, Mr Deane.

It is extraordinary, isn't it?

Well, it's very amusing if you should
turn out to have been right.

I am here to amuse, sir.
So shall we bring her in?

- Who?
- The cowgirl, sir. PJ Puznowski.

Her grandfather, and all this
confirmed in the US military records,

Bulldog Puznowski.

Yes, yes, I read the memo,
but why would I bring her in?

If the painting is real
and if she wants to sell it,

I certainly don't want to seem
overly eager. No, no, no, no.

Ring her up and tell her
if ever she finds herself in London,

I'd be happy to carve out
a few minutes for a chat.

Let her invest
in the deal coming off.

- I see, sir. It's brilliant.
- Nonsense, Deane. It's elementary.

- Prat.
- Wanker.

- Unrestricted economy fare.
- That's what they call it, sir.

Of course, they use the word "economy"
with a certain looseness.

Looseness? It's a positive leap
of the poetic imagination.

Very good, sir. Well put.

- Still, we can't count our pennies.
- Oh, no, sir.

Not with millions in the offing.

- There she is.
- Great to meet you. You take care.

Hey, boys! Hi!

Wow. That was a very comfortable flight.

Excellent. Welcome to London.

Thank you. Oh, thank you, Major.

Yes, still holding.

Can't see her today? Any time today?

At the end of the day, could he see her?
Needn't take long.

No, I understand. No, I understand.

Right. Cheers.

Hey! Is this bothering you?

Not at all.

- I'm going to make some tea.
- OK.

- What you got hanging here?
- Sorry?

On your wall. Is this a Monet?

Careful.

Alfred Sisley. They were contemporaries.

It's of his son, Pierre.

The boy was ten at the time, I think.

Sure is small.

It cost me a ridiculous amount of money.
Rather put me in a hole.

I like it.

It's nice.

It's very beautiful.

- Good morning.
- You know what time it is, mate?

Yes, Mr Knowles. It's just coming...

Morning.

Psst. Come on, wake up.
He can see us now.

Creating and distributing news,
sports and entertainment.

- Come on, let's go.
- It's a jungle out there.

The lion's share of the world's media.

Shabandar. Hear us roar.

- Let me do the talking.
- Sure.

Ms Puznowski.

- Howdy.
- Delighted to meet you.

Good grief, Deane.
What happened to you?

A fellow in the pub expressed
a preference for Matisse over Cézanne.

Had to set him straight.
I'm joking, of course.

Love Matisse. Use of colour.

No, bent down to pick something up,
bookshelf in the way. Hello, bango.

So, shall we sit?

So, how do you find London?

Well, everybody knows
the answer to that one.

You turn right at Greenland.

Indeed. And where are you staying?

Er, well, one of them,
erm, big hotels downtown.

I can't remember the name of it.
You remember, Harry?

- Connaught.
- Me neither.

- But it's one of them big ones.
- The Connaught.

We spoke about the Connaught Hotel.

That's a stupid name.
Staff seems pretty can-do.

You certain about the Connaught?

- Sorry?
- It's fine, I suppose.

But I'll make a few calls,
get our friend in at the Savoy.

- I much prefer it.
- Sir, there's really no need.

Let him do it, Harry. I'm sure
the service is plenty good there, too.

Good anywhere, I reckon,
if you got the do-re-mi.

And I don't mind shelling it out.

I guess Harry here told you about
this here painting I'm aiming to unload.

Ms Puznowski feels that in light of
the precedential value of the piece...

You're hardly her agent, Deane.

And anyway, Ms Puznowski seems
perfectly capable of expressing herself.

- Well, yes, sir.

Yes, sir. English is my mother tongue.

But you don't have to Ms Puznowski me.

No, you can call me PJ. Or Jammies.

That's my rodeo handle.
Or Philomena, which is my real name.

Well, thank you, PJ.
And you may call me Lionel.

Let's hope doing business
on a first-name basis

will be conducive to plain speaking
and clear understanding.

Amen to that, Lionel.

Well, then, let's get to it.

I want £12 million
for this here picture.

That's 6,000 tons
if I've clone my math right.

And maybe you'd like to throw in
a nice four-by-four to haul it off in,

with an auto tranny, a CD deck
and graduated tint on the windshields.

Please and thank you.

Well, that's marvellous,
and tell me, PJ,

what makes you think
this painting is worth £12 million?

Well, Lionel, first off, it's oil.
Ain't it, Harry?

Indeed, the medium is oil,
and its provenance is promising.

But I would like to take it to your
country house to compare it to its mate.

- Is it being shipped in?
- Arrives Tuesday.

You can run it up to the house.

We'll take a look at it
at the gala on Wednesday.

- You've never been to the house.
- No, sir, no. I...

I have an annual party
up at the estate.

That sounds nice. That's another thing
I got going in my favour.

You've got this other Haystacks,

and the man ain't churning 'em out,
what with his being dead an' all.

So, looks like if you want the set,
I got you by the short and curlies.

I don't think it's a situation
of one party trying to subdue the other.

Nonsense. It's a pleasure doing business
with someone who knows her position

and is able to clearly set it out.

Unfortunately I have
another appointment at 11 o'clock.

But I believe this is worth pursuing.

Let's see if we mightn't find
some common ground.

Why, thank you. A gentleman.

Thank you.

I'm booked the rest of the day
and I have a business dinner.

But a thought occurs to me. Perhaps
you might be my dinner companion.

We'd have time to talk and you might
even help me with a business matter.

Thank you. That would be delightful.

Don't bother yourself, Deane.
I'm sure PJ and I can handle things.

To plain speaking.

- Yes, sir.
- Going down.

- Shall we say eight o'clock?
- Sure.

Pick you up at...?

- The Savoy.
- Why not?

As I drove the two of them
to the most expensive hotel in London,

I was rather taken by Ms Puznowski.

Her invigorating lack of decorum
would have enraptured my younger self.

Still, for the successful execution
of the plan,

Mr Deane would require a firm hand
to bring her into line.

I won't deny
I doubted the strength of his wrists.

I don't think
I need to remind you, do I,

of the consequences
of room service?

- Uh-huh.
- This place is absurdly expensive.

Well, this was all your idea.

- Not your actually staying here.
- It's not my fault neither.

We told him our story and either
we keep laying on the bamboozlement

or we might as well
pack it in and go home.

Mamacita! I bet this place has cable.

What are you doing?

The Major gave me a rag to dry this

and, good God,
I believe it has motor oil on it.

Hello. Do you have a single room?

Very, very small. Tiny, in fact.
Just for one evening.

Certainly, sir. I'll just take a look.

Not even the whole evening necessarily.
We could just use it for...

We are rather hemmed in
at the moment, sir.

All I see for this evening is a very
comfortable suite overlooking the river.

We'll take it.

Hold on. What's the tariff?

Hoss, if you're gonna nickel-and-dime
me, we can call this whole thing off.

- I'm beginning to have second thoughts.
- Why would you have second thoughts?

There's moral issues. Right and wrong.

What would my momma have said

if she saw me deceiving somebody
with you and your little Major?

The Major has made quite a mess here.
It's really embarrassing.

- Don't you feel a little ashamed?
- I'm not remotely ashamed.

- Just run that through.
- Sir, I already have.

There seems to be a problem with this
card. Perhaps you've exceeded the limit.

Bloody hell. Alright, try the... This
is a mistake. Try the American Express.

I don't know why I worry.
You ain't up to it anyway.

- You or the Major.
- The Major is quite capable.

Well!
- What? What's the laugh for?

Laughing at the Major?
He's handled better than you.

He's been in any number
of sticky spots in and out.

Should you choose to play coy
this late in the game,

the Major would be aroused

and I could not be held responsible
for the consequences.

From what I've seen,
ain't nothin' gonna arouse the Major.

Very good, sir.
This one worked brilliantly.

There you are. That's room 344.

This evening, it is very important
to stay on topic. Keep it businesslike.

The man is not above mixing
the professional with the personal

- to get what he wants.
- What's that supposed to mean?

Don't make me say it.
The man is... Well, he's a cad.

He's up to something.
He excluded me from your little date.

Hell, maybe I don't mind being seduced,
chased after by a multi-zillionaire.

I don't know,
that don't sound so terrible.

What a depraved point of view.
The man's money makes him attractive?

Yeah. Momma always called
money and manners

the pork and beans of personality.

- What an odd woman.
- There we are. 344, right?

And I beg you,
do not abuse the minibar.

Is that...

Good God!

- It's a Ming.
- Harry.

Key.

- That's your side.
- This is a real nice car, Lionel.

- It's nicer than my house.
- Indeed.

Would you classify this as a limo?

Well, I suppose you could.

Shabandar.

Yes. Good to see you.

Martin Zaidenweber,
this is PJ Puznowski.

- This is her? It's so nice to meet you.
- It's very nice to see you too.

- Are you excited to be here in London?
- I'm so excited. It's my first time.

No! No, come on.

Now, I have heard about this painting.
I mean, what a story.

Almost incredible. Almost incredible.

I thought it'd be good
for you two to meet.

Martin will be examining your painting.

He's going to curate
my private collection.

Ja.

Wow. I thought that
that's what Harry did.

For the moment,
but the man's a bit of an idiot.

- Don't you think?
- No, no, no, Shabandar.

No. Harry is a good man.

Not much of an eye, but a good man.

I am for five years a director
of the Kunst Museum in Köln.

Und before that I curated the collection
of Baron Thyssen-Bornemisza.

But the Baron's collection is...
heavily Flemish.

Titian, Rubens,
all the women, so saftig und heftig.

I mean, how many years can you spend
looking at the Walloons, huh?

Anyway, now I prefer the Impressionists.

Und I'm now considered
as the top man on Monet.

Say, your English
is pretty darn good there, Martin.

I mean, for someone
from the country of Germany.

Oh, thank you. Well,
I speak eight languages fluently.

Und I'm internet-savvy, but you have
to be these days, don't you think?

I pluck chickens,
so there ain't a lot of call for me

to be traipsing around
tweetin' and bloggin'.

Ja, ja.

I'm unfamiliar with this expression,
"I pluck chickens".

Anyway, tell me this remarkable thing.

This painting was hanging
always in your house,

ever since you can remember,
even as a little kinder?

Yep.

Hmm!

Bloody hell.

- So, Harry's out on his butt, huh?
- Harry is, as you say, out on his butt.

He's a bit of a disappointment, really.

Something a little desperate
about the man.

- I don't know.
- A little shifty, a little weak.

Not that bright.

I like to look a man in the eye,
"Lionel Shabandar, how do you do?"

"This is what I should like. What do
you fancy?" Just have out with it.

It's easier to live up to that when
you're rich and can call all the shots.

Character is tested in many ways.
Money brings its own burdens.

You, I'm certain, will pass every test.
Deane, I don't know.

I think maybe
you're just not looking deep enough.

Like Momma said, if you can't tell the
difference between a pig and a javelina,

well, you could lose a big old chunk
out of your ass.

Indeed.

Mr Deane was a proud man
in a difficult moment.

His credit exhausted,
his coffers near empty,

he was forced to contemplate
desperate measures.

Yet he could allow no chink
to appear in the plan.

And though his accomplice might seem,
shall we say, less than perfect,...

- ..He would maintain control.

These are the moments
that try men's souls.

So how is His Lordship this evening?

- He's...
- No problems?

- He wasn't rude or bullying, I hope.
- No, he was polite enough.

Hey, Harry, what are you doing
with all your quarters?

These, madam, are pounds and pence,
not quarters.

- Just putting my affairs in order.
- Harry Deane, are you tapped out?

Hardly. I do this periodically
so as to have use of the jar.

I bag the coins
and donate the proceeds to charity.

Uh-huh.

Tea?

So where do we stand with
our little affair, scheme, programme?

You know, hoss,
I don't think it's gonna work out.

What? Nonsense.
Everything's going according to plan.

We have the painting,
or so Shabandar believes.

And I, my dear, have
that credulous boob's confidence.

On plan, don't you understand?

Well, then, I guess it's just me
having second thoughts, then.

Second thoughts? Well,
it's a little late for that, young lady.

- Don't young lady me, hoss.
- Don't you hoss me, young lady.

That is it.

I have invested thousands of pounds
in this little caper of ours,

not to mention the Major, who has
painted his heart, his soul, his guts

into his forgery of Haystacks, Dusk.

You call the Major, tell him about your
second thoughts, your silly little...

What is it anyway?
Cold feet, moral qualms again?

Yeah, that's part of it.

Besides, the man
is a cold-blooded, heartless bully.

- I happen to think he's quite charming.
- Charming?

He's charming in a thoroughly reptilian,
repulsive way. Repulsively charming.

But you fail to see his manners
are completely ersatz.

I knew you were naive and provincial...

And look at you,
trash-talkin' my origins!

I respect your origins,
your entire double-wide way of life,

but it does leave you vulnerable to...

Leaves me vulnerable? I don't know
how to tell you this, Harry.

- But you're fired.
- Oh, I'm fired?

- Yep.
- Very amusing.

Let me remind you who's running
this little enterprise, madam. Moi.

And it is you who are fired!
Except you're not.

In clue course, when I have authenticated
the Major's beautiful work, then,

then we shall discuss
the termination of your employment

and come to some understanding

as to how to bear the onus
of your ridiculous expenses.

Wrong, hoss. Wrong, wrong and wrong.

You are fired, by Lionel,
cos he told me hisself.

He introduced me to some
stuck-up heinie, Martin Zaidenweber,

who's getting your job

and you won't be authenticating
your dumb old hay painting.

So I'm going back to the Savoy
to stay the night

and I might just order up
some surf 'n' turf.

And tomorrow I'm going to Texas,
get my job back at the chicken plant.

It ain't no fault of mine

that your whole cockamamie scheme
just went blooey.

Hmm!

- Zaidenweber.

Hmm. It's a little late
to apologise now.

How could he? Zaidenweber.

The man is a... Admittedly he knows
his way around the Walloons.

But when it comes to the Impressionists,
the man is a hopeless ignoramus.

This would be comical
if it weren't actually dangerous.

I refer not just to my nose,

which this time I fear
may be well and truly broken.

Perhaps since our little caper
is far from over,

perhaps we should consider
removing the cartilage.

Don't be an ass. I'm hardly likely
to be hit in the face a third time.

That was the third time, sir.

This isn't a maths class.

What are we going to do about
Zaidenweber who, once hired on,

is not going to authenticate
our dumb old hay painting?

Perhaps, Major, could you not
contrive to neutralise him

simply with a...
well, with a gun of some sort?

With a silencer screwed onto the tip
of the thing, the barrel there?

- Mr Deane.
- Hmm?

Too much? No, you're right,
it's too outlandish.

I'll take care of Zaidenweber.

More pressing is how do we get
our rogue elephant

out of the most expensive hotel
in London?

Oh, er, sorry, sir. I haven't quite got
the knack of this.

She is a person without vision, Major.

She cannot see the plan,
so she will not believe in the plan.

Instant gratification is her
modus vivendi, discipline a dirty word.

There's something
awfully refreshing about her.

There's something refreshing
about being plunged into an ice bath

and flogged with a birch switch.

Oh, yes, good flogging.

Madam Olga, Pennypockets Lane,
third floor to the rear.

- Yeah?
- Martin?

- Ja, this is Martin Zaidenweber, ja.
- Martin, it's Harry.

- Harry Trinkwasser?
- No, Harry Deane, calling from London.

- How's Cologne?
- Köln?

Oh, ja! Köln is... is good, not so bad.

Of course, I'm in Köln.
You catch me at my gym.

Practising physical culture. I am gaily
shvitzing away the kilos, you know?

We have to fight the heftiness!

Oh, absolutely.

Look, I know this will seem
a little out of the blue,

and it's sort of embarrassing to say,

but I'm calling to ask
if you might have a job on offer soon.

- Job?
- I'm going to be free soon.

I'm about to kiss Shabandar off.

- You will kiss him off?
- Quitting, yes.

Rather embarrassing,
but Shabandar's having problems.

Business problems.

Rumour has it he's built himself
a bit of a house of cards.

- A card house?
- Yeah.

Just last week,
my pay cheque didn't clear.

- Good evening.
- Good evening, sir.

- What can we do for you?
- Well, I'm checking my friend out.

Lovely room.
She's quite enjoyed her stay.

But I can authorise no further payments
against my credit card.

So we're going to have to
throw her out on her ear.

- Actually...
- Give her the old heave-ho.

Bags packed, out on the pavement.

Actually, sir, those charges have been
assumed as of 4:17 this afternoon

by another party.

In fact, I believe she has been
moved up to a senior suite.

Senior suite.

She's been moved up to...
Who the bloody hell...?

Lord Shabandar
called round. You just missed him.

He left with the young lady
in evening wear.

Hmm.

- Evening wear?
- Yes, sir.

- Quite striking.
- Indeed.

A gift from His Lordship.

Fine. Excellent. Well, good, then.

But I'd be happy
to close out your account. Let me see.

Charges accumulating
prior to this evening...

Yes, here we are.

It'll just be two shakes, sir.

How is the...
the Major this evening, sir?

- Hmm?
- The Major.

He's alright, I suppose.

- Seems like a busy little fellow.
- Not so little, I would hazard.

He's lost a bit of weight recently.

- Semi-retired now.
- That is a pity, sir.

- At least it's... semi.
- Hmm.

Leaving that on the American Express
card, are we, sir?

Yes, thank you.

Now, the task this evening
is quite straightforward.

The Japanese ran the world in the '80s

and my little friend Takagawa
screwed me a dozen times.

Well, now the boot is on the other foot.

So it's kind of like a grudge match.

He's still pissed off
that I beat him to Haystacks, Dawn.

Now, if I can get his lackeys to sell me
their 220 television channels,

I become the third largest provider
of premium cable in the whole of Asia

and the Shabandar lion
can finally roar over Japan.

Hello. Good day, Mr Shabandar.

I am your interpreter
from Konichiwa Media Group.

- I am Chuck.
- Delighted to meet you.

This is Ms Philomena Puznowski.

Hi.

Hello. Good day. I am your interpreter
from Konichiwa Media Group.

I am Chuck.

This is Mr Katsuhara Cho.

Very powerful big man
of Konichiwa Media Group.

I present Mr Shabandar
and Ms Puznoskusam.

- Marvellous.

I think we'll just pick up the names
as we go along, don't you?

- It's a pleasure to meet you all.
- And that goes double for me.

As I said,
these dinners can be difficult.

Don't worry.
These guys seem pretty harmless.

They're evil little shits.
Watch me crush them.

It occurs to me, I'm afraid
I left my glasses up in the room.

Would it... Would the key still work
for me to run up and have a look?

- You're wearing them, sir.
- These, to be sure, yes.

No, I mean my other glasses,
my distance glasses.

Distance.

I'll run you another key, sir.

Huh.

Bloody hell!

Hello!

Hello!

This is Extra Vroom-Vroom channel.

- Aim at people love car.
- Hmm.

This is Extra Killer Whale channel

for people like watch whale
eat other people.

- Very popular after ten o'clock.
- Hmm.

This is Let's Young channel.

For young teenage wear hair extra crazy,

drink sake all night, puke in street.

Combined viewer for Konichiwa TV,

42 millions, I think.

- Yes.
- Yes, yes, very impressive.

Of course,
I'm familiar with the figures.

- However...

...my offer for the group was made
in pounds sterling, not yen.

But the recent rise of your currency
relative to the pound

would raise my cost fully ten percent,

and that, gentlemen,
is an obligation I never undertook

and do not propose to undertake now.

There is snow on the mountains
in the winter

and the man, in despair,

cannot walk to the next valley.

But in spring, snow melts

and is remembered in tranquillity.

Right. Sure, OK, I got you.

Yeah, see, what I think the big man here
is trying to tell you is

he may have been tough on the price
and a real son of a bitch until now,

but if you kind of party down with him
so he don't lose face,

maybe things'll go your way.

But he ain't about to say it straight
out and look like a wimp, right?

If you really wanna
butter these boys up,

you ought to invite them all
out to your house.

You know, break some bread, mano a mano.

Have 'em out for the gala,
why don't you?

Maybe you're right.

God, what a bore.

Can't be so terribly difficult.

Just one foot...

...in front of the other.

Let's go dancing!

Oh, sod it.

You're a bit of a marvel. I hope
you'll stay on, even after the gala.

I could use somebody
with your qualities.

Well, I guess I got qualities at that.

That you do, Ms Puznowski.
That you do.

For Pete's sake, this time I think
you really are trying to get me drunk,

with all that rice wine an' all.

Well, why not?
No more business this evening.

This is a strictly social part
of the day.

Let's get, as you might say, down,
I believe, shall we?

- Say that one more time, please.
- Let us get down.

Oh, bugger me.

Well, Lionel,
tonight was real, real fun.

That sounds like the past tense.

The...

Bloody tart!

Well, that seems to have had
the desired effect.

My Pants.

My bloody trousers!

Lionel, you know,
this ain't the place to be...

Nonsense.

This is precisely what hotels are for.

In the tree!

- Taxi!
- My bloody trousers!

Out snogging about when I'm trying
to bloody stay on plan.

This is absurd.

Good evening, madam.
I am terribly sorry.

Tomorrow evening's Kirov Ballet
is quite sold out

and it's the last performance.

- Oh, my!
- Yes.

Shall we try The Cherry Orchard
at the Duke of York's?

- Yes, let's.
- Lovely.

Lovely. Still just the one...
the one ticket?

- Yes, just the one.
- Lovely. As you please.

- Have a very nice evening.
- Yes, I shall try.

Straight back into bed. My husband
doesn't arrive until Thursday.

Of course, madam.
It must seem like an eternity.

There.

The vase.

Just nipping down the hall for some ice.

You can fly private,
but you still have to take the time.

That's why you need a place like this
to lay your sleepy head.

Oh, look. Here we are.

Here we are. Well, thanks
for escorting me up, Lionel.

I'm pretty tuckered out,
so I should probably just...

- Nonsense. Let's have a nightcap.
- What?

A nightcap, that's code, really,
for a bit more conversation

- and then... who knows?
- Er...

- Well...
- I'm making you uncomfortable.

- Perhaps another time.
- Oh, no, that's fine.

We should do it tonight, so here we go.
Let's go on in. You first.

- What are you doing?
- What?

- Evening, Mr Deane.
- Evening.

Hey, get your butt in here. Come on.

Quite the extensive bar.
What are you having?

Let me think about it.
I'll be right there.

What are you doing here?
Where are your pants?

Hanging on the tree downstairs.
What are you doing with Shabandar?

They're what?

Hanging on the tree downstairs.

Good God, I can hardly put it
more plainly!

There's Scotch, gin, Jägermeister...

Why would you hang your pants
in a tree?

- It ain't Christmas.
- I didn't hang them there.

Why did you invite Shabandar
to your room?

Do your orgiastic impulses
know no limits? You've been drinking.

If I wanna have a nightcap, well,
I am of drinking age and voting age

and the age of consent.

And I can have anyone I want
up to my room,

cos you ain't paying for it
no more anyways.

- What? Are you jealous?
- Jealous? Don't be absurd.

Champagne cooling.

Are you coming out or are you slipping
into something more approachable?

Yeah, that's it.

All sense of shame
is well and truly atrophied.

Not only do you not seek to disguise
your wanton behaviour...

My behaviour? Why don't you go first?

Why were you out on that ledge,
what was in that vase

and why are your pants
hanging in a tree?

You're a very suspicious person, really.
There was nothing in the vase.

As for the rest of it, it is involved,
but unlike your shenanigans,

there's a sensible plan
governing my behaviour.

- Jealous. Good God.
- Ready or not,

here I have to come.

I need to use the lavatory.

But I shall respect your modesty.

I don't suppose you could dash down
and get my trousers?

You get out of here, Harry Deane.
You go get your own damn trousers.

Well, thanks a lot.

- So you don't have any ice, then?
- What?

- What did you say?

What did you say?

- Do we have any ice?
- No, not with champagne.

Harry. Harry.

- Harry.
- It's alright. I've practised.

Are you decent?
I'm coming out.

I've never told you, have I,
the story of the Shabandar lion?

Oh! Wanker.

Stroke of luck, madam. One ticket left
for The Cherry Orchard.

- Third row in the stalls, aisle seat.
- Ah, wonderful.

Splendid.
Book that for you straightaway.

Oh, that's where it is. Excuse me.

Housekeeping.

Evening, Mr Deane.

Sometimes I wonder if they drink.

Right, shan't bother you again

and I'll tell switchboard to put
a Do Not Disturb on room 318.

318?

Good evening.

Good evening, sir.
Did you find your glasses?

Yes, thank you. Got 'em right here.

Not forgetting anything else,
are we, sir?

No, no, I shouldn't think so.

- At least he's wearing a tie.
- Extraordinary fellow.

Good morning.

Harry Deane, are you spying on me?

No, not at all.
It's just that seducing Shabandar,

last I checked,
was not part of our plan.

Well, like Momma always used to say,

scratch it if it itches,
even if it's in your britches.

Miss, I've had sufficient
of your mother's gnomic utterances.

Relax, Harry.

Face it, our little plan
ain't exactly operational any more.

You're wrong.

Look...

We gotta have a little talk here.
See, there's two kinds of people.

There's people like Lionel with big
deals and big cars and manners an' all,

and there's people like us.

Look at you, running around
all desperate and cockamamie,

pretending like you're gonna
take Lionel for a gazillion dollars.

Well, Harry Deane,
it ain't gonna happen.

You're not Lionel,
and why would you wanna be?

You got your own thing going on,

with all your art
and your beautiful little painting.

But you gotta quit
trying to be something you're not.

It's OK, you know.
You being you is... is OK.

Look, I understand how certain
unforeseen wrinkles in my plans

have conspired to diminish
your confidence in me.

Consider that you might
still have an obligation,

having incurred considerable expense,

having pledged
a degree of cooperation

and having...
having wounded me personally

by fraternising with a man
who does not deserve your respect,

who's a cynical manipulator
of those less powerful

and who's a degenerate nudist at that.

Only person I've seen traipsing round
London in their underwear is you.

That is not the point.

You sure do have nice eyes
for a fella who never smiles.

Too bad you're all wrapped up
in your crazy scheme.

Maybe you could ungrit your teeth
a little bit every once in a while.

OK, I get it.

I think it's trouble, but...
I'll play along at Lionel's party,

if that's what you want.

Yes, yes. Thank you, madam,
that is all I ask.

I'm certain after tonight, you shall
have reason to admire the skills

of a reborn, reinvigorated
and surprisingly capable Harry Deane.

If you say so.

- Very good evening to you.
- You're most welcome.

Thank you.

There are moments in a life
that define a man.

This was Mr Deane's.

He was sprung for action

and yet perfectly capable
of blowing it completely.

Here we go.

Zowie.

- This the painting?
- Painting's in the crate.

This is my easel so I can have a look
at the bloody thing.

Uncrate the painting in the gallery.
I'll look at it up there.

Managed to get hold of the guest list.
No sign of Zaidenweber, thank God.

You should go, Major.
No reason to put yourself at risk.

You know where to find me.

Good luck, old thing.

- Howdy.
- Good evening.

- Hey, there. Great mask.
- Thank you.

- Hi.
- Good evening.

I'm so glad you could make it

and that you've decided
to consummate our little transaction.

Perhaps you might allow me to do
the same with our other little affair.

You can try all you want, Shabby.

Shabby.

- Shabandar-san!
- Oh, Christ.

It is I, Chuck.

We wish to thank you for extending

of your hospitality
of your extra-big house.

Oh, yes, quite. Delighted.
I see you managed to find the bar.

And if you're hungry,
there's a big old spread over there.

Our boy Lionel pulled out all the stops.

Many thanks, Ms Puzkoza.

- Hey, Harry.
- Oh, Deane.

They probably think
you're pretty strange too, Lionel,

what with you being a nudist an' all.

What with my being a what?

- A nudist.
- Nothing wrong with that, is there?

Hell, no. I think
it's real relaxing going naked.

What the devil are you talking about?

I understood you to have said once
that you attended the Eden Retreat.

That isn't a nudist gathering.
Somebody's been having you on.

It's one of the most formal gatherings
you could imagine.

Once again, Deane,
you have things arse backwards.

- I understand, sir. I apologise.
- Just forget it.

Deane... we really need
to have a private talk.

There is something
I have to discuss with you.

You boys get your bellies full?

Blast, here they come again.
I would rather not have to talk to them.

- Can't we just do business?
- I can take care of these old boys.

And I shall just pop up
and examine the painting.

Gentlemen.
Found some nourishment, I see.

Have you boys heard of a little thing
called live karaoke?

Thank you, gents. That'll do.

Hmm.

Whoo! Let me tell you
a little bit about Texas.

Yippee-ai!

That's my boys!
Deep in the heart of Texas!

Assuming I close this deal,
may we conclude yours as well?

The painting arrived, yes?

Harry told you
he was going to take a look at it.

No, he couldn't have.
My security's on, you see.

Your security?

It's quite an ingenious system.
I dreamt it up myself.

I hope he's not stupid enough
to have gone up there.

Then again,
we are talking about Deane.

Oh. Shit.

Go away.

- No, there's no need for that.

Now, stop it.

Stop it. Oh!

Harry?

Damn.

OK, Harry,
I'm gonna have to take him down.

Ya! Come on, big boy!

Bad lion! Bad lion! Come on!

Heel! Come on!

To the deal, then.

Banzai!

Oh!

Well, that's that.

- Are you sure he's secure?
- That's a double granny.

He can't work out of that.

Ms Puznowski,
your timing is impeccable.

Thank you.

I can handle anything
that's got four legs.

Once you trip 'em up, they're gravy.

- As your momma used to say.

I'm going to get somebody
to deal with him.

Hey, Shabby.

Where on earth have you been?

Well...

God, Deane,
this is so typical of you.

What on earth were you doing larking
about up here creating a nuisance?

More than a nuisance,
a bloody dangerous situation.

PJ could well have been mauled,
and all to no end.

Hardly to no end. It is my job to ensure
the integrity of the collection.

Sorry, Deane, it isn't your job.

Sorry to have to break it to you
like this,

but we're knocking it on the head.

I've got a new man.
It was a bloody chore hiring him.

I had to advance him two years' salary.

- Zaidenweber?
- Zaidenweber.

I am pleased to inspect.

- Fine, but I hardly think you're...
- Stand down, Deane.

How does it look, Martin?
What do you say?

Ja. Almost incredible.

Almost incredible.

But...

Yeah.

The painting is in order.

- It's beautiful, isn't it?
- Hm-hmm.

The brush strokes. The impasto.

Everything is just quite the way
it should be.

And there are certain things
that you cannot phoney up.

Gross depiction, maybe, but
the finer fingerprints of technique, no,

absolutely not, you cannot, no.

I mean, this is, I have to say,
really quite bloody marvellous.

This is authentic.

Now, you can do tests
until your testicles are cerulean blue,

but there is no doubt in my mind.

- Alright, then.
- Bollocks.

- I beg your pardon?
- Bollocks.

Excuse me?

Anyone with an eye can see
that something is amiss here.

What the devil are you...?

- Harry!

Fake.

The impasto is a caricature
of Monet's actual brush handling,

which was infinitely more subtle.

And as far as I'm aware,
Monet never painted over

a rather hackneyed portrait of...

Martin.

I'm disappointed.

Imagine how I feel.

Auf Wiedersehen, meine Lieblinge.

And as for you, you're either
rather clever or not clever enough.

Either way, it's clear
that you're of no further use to me.

Speaking of clever, what did you expect?

It was hanging on a wall
in a trailer in Texas.

And besides,
I was never gonna be any use to you.

Well, no harm done.

Just a bit of a waste of time,
that's all.

Well, Deane, against expectations,

you seem to know
what you're on about rather.

You will continue in the job.

- Now, if you'll excuse me...
- I think not, sir.

You think not what?

I think not regarding
continuing in the job.

I'm afraid I can no longer
render services

to a man who'd wilfully insult
the intelligence and moral character

of a woman I have so come
to admire and respect.

You are a boor, sir.

And a bully. And I've had enough.

So I'll just gather my kit...

...and bid you a semi-fond farewell.

Ms Puznowski, may I see you out?

Yes, you may.

Excuse me.

You know, Harry Deane,

for an Englishman, you sure do have
some big old cojones.

They say
you can't put a price on dignity,

but if you could, in Harry Deane's case,

it would be approximately £11 million.

Well, that didn't go
exactly according to plan.

I know it sounds funny coming from me,
but now I wish you'd let him buy it.

I just couldn't help myself, you know?

Hear, hear.

I'll make it up to you, I promise.

No, no, you did your bit.
I owe you your wages.

Here we are.

Well, here we are.

Your tickets.

- I regret that it's economy.
- Unrestricted.

- Well, goodbye, Harry.
- Goodbye.

Come here.

- Major.
- Madam.

Shall we, Major?

No problems, then, sir?

Security was a little tougher
than I'd anticipated.

But you had time
to make the switch?

Oh, yes.
Shabandar will never suspect.

Beautiful work, Major.

- On which one?
- Both of them.

Although I'm afraid I had to destroy
your Dusk to prove it was a fake.

Understood, sir. No hard feelings.

Thoughtful of this gentleman to make
the trip. Saves us going to Japan.

Mr Takagawa.

- Hello, Harry.
- Hello, Charlie.

Hello, Major. Everything alright?

- Everything according to plan.
- Right you are, Mr Deane.

- Very good.

Mr Takagawa wants to thank you.

He says he has been waiting 18 years
for this moment.

- Not at all. Pleasure to have done it.

Oh, yes.

I'm clever. But look.

Monet.

Inimitable. Though no doubt
your version will satisfy Shabandar.

He assures me
the transfer has been made.

The money should now be
in your Swiss account.

- Excellent.
- Hello?

Major?

It's gone through.

So much better
than having to count it all.

I'd have got it all bollocksed up
before I got to ten million.

- Thank you, gentlemen.
- Thank you, Harry.

Has anyone given you anything
to take on board our flight?

- No, ma'am.
- Thank you.

Oh, Harry Deane.

You'll see
she gets what we owe her?

Certainly, sir.
And should we upgrade her ticket?

Yes, why don't we?

- Bit of an extravagance.
- Oh, well.

How will you explain it?

You know me, Major.
I'll think of something.

Fancy trying your hand at Picasso?

Do you think we'd find a use for it?

Seems Donald Trump
is obsessed with the fellow.

And there's many a billionaire in Texas.

Mr Deane.

Oh, yes, Major.
The opportunities are endless.