Original subtitles

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

Where the fuck have you been hiding?

I messed up.

- Where you staying? - Back at the flat.

GLORIA: What, you're squatting?

No, Selby sorted it.

So, Florian Selby's back in the free world.

- God help us all. - When the shit hits the fan,

sometimes you need a man like Selby.

GLORIA: That's just not true.

COSTELLO JONES: I've gotta to work.

I'll make it up to you, yeah?

How are we this fine morning?

Tired. And I've got a gushing case of the thrush.

- Not perfect conditions for showing my minge. - (CHUCKLES)

But, hey, at least we're not homeless.

LOLLY: Heard you got rolled by the feds the other night.

COSTELLO: Yeah, me and the kid got accused

of breaking and entering into our own home,

which is fucking madness.

- All sorted now? - Yep.

Normal service has resumed.

I'm skint and shit out of luck, as usual.

- ♪ ("IN THE DEEP END" PLAYING) ♪ - (INDISTINCT CHATTER)

Get on the OnlyFans like everyone else.

No, I don't want that shit on the internet.

I want people to take my writing seriously.

Okay.

Pussy check, ladies. Chop, chop.

♪ ("RIDERS" BY JOHN J. PRESLEY PLAYING) ♪

♪ Writing my confessions ♪

♪ Down in the sand ♪

♪ Pawn the reckless... ♪

(COINS RATTLING)

♪ I got first hand ♪

Costello Jones, isn't it?

- Who the fuck you are you? - Sophie Fenster.

I-- I write for the London Reformer.

I follow you online.

I'm-- I'm a big fan of what you write and stand for.

I think you're mistaken, darling.

I don't stand for a fucking thing.

♪ The rider approaches Upon the horizon... ♪

I don't talk to journalists either.

(SCOFFS) No, I-- I get it. We-- We're awful.

Do you wanna see my fanny?

I'm not here to judge you. I'm here to pass the mic.

Well, be prepared to have it returned sticky.

(SOPHIE FENSTER CHUCKLES)

I'd love to do an interview with you, Costello.

Fuck your interview, I'm a writer.

I tell my own stories. Thank you.

Come on, you fucking slut. (PANTS)

Okay, well, how about you write your story?

About working here. In your own words.

Yeah, but I want paying for it.

Well, how much do you want?

Five hundred.

And I'm not writing any sad stories.

I'm not going to be your liberals' victim of the week.

I think this might be the break you've been dreaming of.

CRACKHEAD: What is this? A fucking job center?

Take off your knickers, come on.

(PANTS, MOANS)

- Fuck you, I'll do it. - CRACKHEAD: Yes.

(MOANS, PANTS) Yes. Yes.

♪ (MELLOW MUSIC PLAYING) ♪

It was well weird when you weren't here.

Mom went wine crazy.

I think I'm gonna need therapy.

Who do you think you are? Tony Soprano?

Well, I'm more of a Christopher type.

And I don't want none of that CBT crap.

It's Dr. Melfi or nothing.

Oh, you wanna go private, do you?

- Harley Street? - Yeah.

Well, look it never work for me, but I can certainly

look into it for you.

How long you going to keep this up for?

I've apologized like 15 times.

- What you apologizing for? - GLORIA: Dad.

Everything. Taking a selfie with that hot dead guy.

And getting pissed at work.

Taking the shit in the mourners' toilet

and blaming it on the old widow.

- Driving the hearse while high on E that time-- - Stop talking.

Do a girl a favor and forgive me.

Good job on him.

How many guests we got?

(BREATHES DEEPLY) Poor old bastard

had hardly any family and no money, so probably none.

But make it nice.

put some music on, in case someone does show up.

- (INDISTINCT CHATTER) - ♪ (UPBEAT MUSIC PLAYING) ♪

No, don't show them to Fen, he's a big cheat.

(IN MANDARIN)

(IN ENGLISH) Go easy on him.

So, what was it like looking after your mom?

Tiring.

It was a nightmare. I was very frightened.

Sometimes I thought I'd never get out. Never...

get away from her.

Well, it sounds horrible.

Hmm. She made me sleep in a bunk bed.

- Oh, no, that's cool. - FLORIAN SELBY: No, it wasn't cool.

Creaked every time I turned over,

the mattress was lumpy

and the sheets scratched my skin.

(IN MANDARIN)

- (IN ENGLISH) What's he saying? - Nothing.

Now, say "Mahjong."

- Mahjong! - And take everyone's money.

No. When you win, you don't say "Mahjong,"

you say, "Hu Le."

So, you lose.

- Hu Le! - (CHUCKLES)

(SIGHS, IN MANDARIN)

♪ (“WEREWOLVES OF LONDON” BY WARREN ZEVON PLAYING OVER SPEAKERS) ♪

♪ I saw a werewolf with A Chinese menu in his hand ♪

♪ Walking through the streets Of Soho in the rain ♪

♪ He was looking for the place Called Lee Ho Fooks ♪

♪ Gonna get a big dish Of beef chow mein ♪

♪ Ah-hoo Werewolves of London... ♪

PAUL: (IN ENGLISH) This looks like my kinda party.

Oh, my God, I am so sorry.

Nah, it's fine, mate.

♪ Werewolves of London ♪

♪ Ah-hoo... ♪

I am sorry for your loss.

Let's get a look at him, then.

♪ You better not let him in... ♪

PAUL: This is the first time I've seen him in 45 years.

He looks better than I remember.

I'll give you some time alone.

PAUL: Would you mind staying?

Wanna have a drink with the old man.

♪ Werewolves of London... ♪

Start that track again, will you?

He'd have loved it.

As long as you're not expecting me to dance for you.

♪ (SONG RESTARTS) ♪

Oh, no, no. I don't day drink, no more.

- (BEER CAN POPS) - (GLORIA CHUCKLES)

(CHUCKLES) Oh, fuck it.

♪ I saw a werewolf With a Chinese menu... ♪

- (BEER CAN POPS) - (GRUNTS)

(GROANS)

- (CHUCKLES) - To Dad.

♪ (MELLOW MUSIC PLAYING) ♪

Selby, I feel like I'm in a movie montage.

Oh, that's how I live my life.

Just make sure it's a good movie, darling.

Mahjong!

♪ Ah-hoo ♪

(MOANS) Is this disrespectful?

(GRUNTS) From what I remember of him,

this is probably the only thing I've done

- that would've make him proud. - (MOANS)

(BOTH MOAN)

♪ (SONG FADES) ♪

- (KEYBOARD CLACKING) - (SIRENS WAILING IN DISTANCE)

(DOOR OPENING, CLOSING)

COSTELLO: Hello, bubs.

How's the genius writer doing?

Come on, you need a break.

Just need to make sure that this is really good.

Yes, it will be,

just stick some duck in your gob and take five minutes.

- COSTELLO: Give me a sec. - Come on!

- (EXHALES) - Can't believe you're writing

for those champagne socialists. Oh, look, look, look.

The only way they'd let you into the liberal palace

is if you're bloody cleaning it.

Hmm. I'll just have to break the locks then.

Here.

(SIREN WAILING IN DISTANCE)

(INDISTINCT CHATTER IN DISTANCE)

Wish we could do this all again tomorrow.

We can't 'cause Ava's party.

(SELBY GROANS SOFTLY)

Can we get her a decent present?

Can't get rich people shit from Argos, can you?

(CHUCKLES)

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

(SOFTLY) I love you.

Love you, too.

- (KNOCKING ON DOOR) - GLORIA: Costello,

I've got a new man. He's old as fuck, let me in.

(CHUCKLING)

- Oh, hey! - PAUL: How you doing, all right?

GLORIA: This is Paul.

I can't believe you've done this.

Chill out, you soppy bitch.

Dad was gonna throw it in the skip anyway.

Selby is here.

Oh, is he?

Well, we aren't afraid of Florian Selby, are we, Paul?

PAUL: (CHUCKLES) Maybe. Who's Florian Selby?

Yes, Gloria, who is Florian Selby?

- Some public school prick. - Objection!

GLORIA: And he just got out of prison.

For protecting Costello, Paul.

This is all very entertaining, but I do have a deadline

- tomorrow. - Yes.

Thank you for stopping by.

Absolute pleasure to meet you, Paul.

And, uh-- If you are planning intercourse with this one,

may I suggest three condoms.

Two on the cock, one on the head, just be safe.

Costello, he's insane.

(SELBY CHUCKLES, IMITATES BARK)

(IMITATES BARK)

GLORIA: This is why you were locked up, Selby.

- (SELBY HOWLS) - GLORIA: Go away!

(DOOR CLOSING)

♪ (PENSIVE MUSIC PLAYING) ♪

That's not helping.

(ELEVATOR WHIRRING)

COSTELLO: Lenny, are you decent?

(LENNY WILSON CHUCKLING)

(DOOR OPENING)

(COSTELLO SIGHING)

- Aren't you filthy? - (LAUGHS WHEEZINGLY)

- (COUGHS) - (COSTELLO CHUCKLES)

- Right. - (LENNY COUGHING)

(SIREN WAILING IN DISTANCE)

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

(CHAIR SCRAPES)

- (SELBY SIGHS) - ATTENDEE 1: ...Here we go.

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

(ATTENDEE 2 COUGHS)

Sir.

We're waiting for you to start.

Ah, yes.

Yes.

Gentlemen...

welcome to Punch Club.

First rule of Punch Club,

you don't punch anyone.

Second rule of Punch Club, you do not...

punch anyone, seriously, it defeats the purpose

of you being here. It's kind of the point.

- The third rule of Punch Club-- - MATT: What are you doing?

I'm your new group leader.

- (ATTENDEES GROAN) - ATTENDEE 3: Oh, God.

What's your name?

- (CLICKS TONGUE) Uh, Selby. - ATTENDEE 4: Fucking dickhead.

- Florian Selby. - SELBY: Mm, that's right.

Sit down, please, Florian.

(ATTENDEES CHUCKLE)

My name is Matt.

And this is a rehabilitation group for men

who have committed violent crimes.

You should know it is a requirement

of your probation to regularly attend this group

or you will be returned to prison.

This is no joke.

(COUGHS)

Would you...

- (LIGHTER CLICKS) - (SNIFFS)

(BREATHES DEEPLY)

Thank you, darling.

COSTELLO: I'm writing a thing for the London Reformer

and they are getting all the gory details, so...

Come on, do your worst.

Be as filthy as you like, it's all going in my article.

Well, don't they dare change my name.

I'm Lenny Wilson. Proud pervert.

- Don't piss on my hard-on. - (CHUCKLES)

I may not be famous for my art...

but I wanna leave something behind.

What are you doing? You cold?

Oh, no, darling, just nothing worse

than frigid hands on a warm cock.

(LAUGHS)

LENNY: Tell your readers

why I've been banned from the peep show.

Because it's bad etiquette to spunk on a peep booth window.

It stains.

(LENNY CHUCKLES WHEEZILY)

- Wokeness gone mad. - (CHUCKLES)

LENNY: Not my fault I've got stubborn cum.

(COSTELLO SIGHS)

Oh.

You are a cleaner, Costello. You've done such a good job.

You're a real cleaner, aren't you?

Tell me you're a real cleaner, I've always wanted one.

(GROANS) Yes, I'm a real cleaner.

I mean, it really isn't coming out.

I'll have to get some white vinegar on it,

- but want me to keep going? - LENNY: Mm. Mm.

(BREATHES HEAVILY)

I knocked my missus around for years.

She always let me back. But I never changed.

This time though...

it's different.

Tell you what it is...

(BREATHES DEEPLY)

Paintball.

I go paintball every Saturday.

Shoot a load of kids,

treat myself to some extra ammo,

smoke bombs, armed to the teeth.

Get generations of violence out of my system.

Then I go home.

Missus cooks a nice bit of dinner.

We make love.

- Lovely. - (LAUGHS)

Oh, my God! I think I prefer prison.

(CHUCKLES)

Matthew, who do I need to suck off to get out of here?

(BREATHES SHAKILY)

(MOANS)

(EXHALES DEEPLY)

(PANTS)

(COUGHS)

Ugh. It's an awful life we live, but we do it with such dignity.

- (BREATHES HEAVILY) - (GROANS SOFTLY) Thanks, babe.

Lenny, can I steal one of your paintings?

Iris has a birthday party.

Better take a present for the mom, stuck-up bitch.

Take-- Take that.

Your ex-wife's vag?

Oh, you can't give that away.

Oh, she always did, very generous woman.

COSTELLO: What does that remind me of?

How should I know it? All I see is gash.

You're like a dad to me Lenny.

- One who rapes me. (CHUCKLES) - (CHUCKLES)

- (COUGHS AND LAUGHS) - Oh, God.

Might work.

Really looks like a pussy though.

Oh, oh, I love it. (CHUCKLES)

Thank you. (CHUCKLES)

- (INDISTINCT CHATTER) - That is a very moving sunset.

It looks familiar. Somewhere in India, perhaps?

LUCY: I see a symbol of transience.

IMMY: Oh.

I don't think we're looking at something tangible.

- Right. (CHUCKLES) - COSTELLO: Mm.

So, Iris told Ava you're a writer.

Yes.

Oh, what are you working on at the moment?

Um, an undercover, uh, project,

um, at-- at a peep show.

(GASPS) That is fascinating.

Yeah. I mean, I get right in amongst it, It's...

Oh, what, like Stacey Dooley?

Uh, yeah, a little bit, uh, but think more Tom Wolfe,

Joan Didion, you know,

like, reporting the truth, subjectively,

using fictional techniques.

- LUCY: Sounds amazing. - (WOMEN CHATTERING)

- You are very bright. - Oh. (CHUCKLES)

IMMY: You should have gone to university.

I did. I got a First in English at Durham.

- (WOMEN CHUCKLING) - Wow. (CHUCKLES)

I might have a cracking pair of tits,

but I'm also pretty fucking clever, so...

- (WOMEN LAUGH) - We can't wait to read it.

♪ (UPBEAT MUSIC PLAYING) ♪

- LOLLY: Oh, God. - And it's...

in.

LOLLY: Oh.

(SIGHS)

Costello, a respectable man is here for you.

- Come. - Hi. Hi, Costello.

- KONSTANTIN: Yeah. - RICHARD: I'm Richard. Hi.

I'm here to, um, get some photos for your article.

Um, everyone else here, you can just relax,

uh, like I'm not here. (CHUCKLES)

Um,

I read some of your old pieces online the other day.

Very funny. I'm looking forward to this one.

Thanks.

- Where do you want me? - RICHARD: Um... (SIGHS)

- Yeah, wherever you're comfortable. - COSTELLO: Okay.

- Yeah. That's very nice. - (CAMERA SHUTTER CLICKS)

RICHARD: Very good. Yeah. To me. Oh, yeah.

Um, just head down, just a touch. Yeah. Wonderful.

Well done. Yeah.

What do you think? Cool, yeah?

Right, shall we get a picture of you in your costume?

COSTELLO: Uh, no.

No one asked Hemingway to get his tits out, did they?

♪ (MELLOW MUSIC PLAYING) ♪

COSTELLO: Good night with Aunty G?

IRIS JONES: Yeah, showed her The Sopranos finale

and she said she felt cheated.

COSTELLO: What do you expect? It's Aunty G.

God, look at this prick on his scooter.

IRIS: Today, Mommy,

your name's gonna be in the newspaper

and not for a crime.

COSTELLO: Yeah, you're right.

IRIS: All my friends' moms are gonna read about it.

And soon we won't be poor. You're a real writer now.

COSTELLO: Yeah, suppose I am. I am a real writer.

NIKKI: Oh, what you got,

a fucking paper round? (CHUCKLES)

Her Majesty treat you well?

Oh, as well as she would treat one of her sons.

NIKKI: Mm-hmm.

Prison's like boarding school I bet.

No, no, no, no, no, it's much lovelier than that.

(NIKKI CHUCKLES)

It's not your article, darling.

They've turned your words into a sad little interview.

♪ (PENSIVE MUSIC PLAYING) ♪

They fucked me.

Of course she lied to me.

SELBY: Come on.

Come on, come, come, come.

Costello Jones says, "I'm not ashamed to use my body to pay the rent.

Sex work is real work."

I never fucking said that.

Iris is gonna be so embarrassed.

- God, I want a drink. - Mm.

No, you don't.

I'm 106-days sober, is this my life now?

Why can't I have a glass of wine like a normal human being?

Because, darling, when you drink, bad things happen.

I knew it was risky, writing this.

Well, writing is the most dangerous sport.

(CLEARS THROAT)

Do you want me to have her whacked?

(CHUCKLES)

Fuck her. She's going in my novel,

and she's going to be a fucking monster.

Yeah, well, the best revenge, of course,

is winning the Man Booker Prize.

They would have done the same to Jean Genet

if he had a cunt, wouldn't they?

(CHUCKLES) Undoubtedly.

GLORIA: Fuck her. Just keep doing your writing.

- What you calling this book? - Oh, fuck knows.

I need to get my head down, finish it, find a publisher,

finally make Iris proud.

I gotta hand it to you, you don't die easy.

- Ooh. - ♪ (UPBEAT MUSIC PLAYING) ♪

(SIGHS)

Why you are here? There's still customers out there

with handfuls of coins and cocks.

Oh! (SCOFFS)

Done for the night, so I'll see you next week.

Get back on stage.

(CHUCKLES)

Okay then, get your hairy ass out of here. You're fired.

GLORIA: Oh, she ain't got no hairy ass.

And don't forget to take your pussy with you.

- GLORIA: And I ain't no pussy. Rude! - (COSTELLO LAUGHS)

GLORIA: Do you think he's got little man syndrome?

- COSTELLO: Yeah. - He's a bit of a weirdo.

RICHARD: Solidarity, sister.

As performative gestures go, I've seen better.

- Seen better today. - What's this?

Uh, the photographer from that thing.

Yeah, I-- I just wanted you to know that, um,

I had no idea that Sophie was going to fuck you over.

- COSTELLO: Hmm. - I mean, it is fucking weird,

but you've got to hand it to him,

done a thing. (CHUCKLES)

Uh, would you like to grab a coffee or something?

Do you pick up girls outside peep shows often or--

Uh, no. No, no, this-- this would be my first.

(CHUCKLES) Well, he's good value, ain't he?

Okay, go on then.

- (CHUCKLES) - Yeah?

Taking real risk with that one. Big old mouth on her.

And very mangled minge.

Thank you for that, Konstantin.

RICHARD: Well, no one's perfect.

♪ (“FAKE” BY LOLA YOUNG PLAYING) ♪

♪ Everybody keeps telling me ♪

(LAUGHTER)

♪ About the new magazines ♪

♪ And everybody keeps telling me That I'd be lonely without it ♪

♪ And everybody Keeps telling me ♪

♪ That I'd be broke Without a penny to my name ♪

♪ And everybody Keeps telling me ♪

♪ That I'd be heartless Without it... ♪

(OVERLAPPING CHATTER)

♪ (SONG CONCLUDES) ♪