All language subtitles for The.Dresser.2015.BluRay.H264.AAC-RARBG-English

(MUSIC PLAYING)

(GRUNTING)

(HAMMERING)

MAN ON RADIO: German aircrafts
carried out a number of attacks

on Great Britain last night.

The raids, which lasted
for several hours,

were scattered over
many parts of the country.

- And the enemy aircrafts have been...
- (AIR RAID SIREN BLARING)

reported over towns on the south coast,
the West of England,

the North Midlands,
and the northwest,

as well as over the London area.

(FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING)

He does nothing but cry.

- Are they keeping him in?
- They won't let me stay.

Doctor said I seem
to make matters worse.

I should never have
taken him to the hospital.

I don't know what came over me.

I should've brought him back here
where he belongs.

Why is his coat on the floor?
And his hat?

Drying out.
They're wet through.

Well, how did he come to be
in such a state, Norman?

When you telephoned, I thought at first
that he'd been hurt in the air raid.

- Oh, no.
- Or had an accident.

- Oh, no, not an accident.
- No, I know, because they...

they said there was no sign
of physical injury.

- Your Ladyship.
- He's in a state of collapse.

- Yes, I know.
- Well, how did he get like that?

- Your Ladyship, sit down, please.
- What happened to him?

Please, sit down.
We must remain calm.

The doctor said it must've been
coming on for weeks.

- Oh, if not longer.
- Well, I didn't see him this morning.

He left the digs before I woke.

Where was he all day?
Where did you find him?

Well, what happened was this,
Your Ladyship.

After the last "all clear" sounded,
I went into Market Square

just as dusk was coming on.

Peculiar light,
ever so yellowish.

I hoped to find a packet or two
of Brown and Polson's corn flour

since our supplies
are rather low.

So I was asking at this store,
and that's when I heard his voice.

- Whose voice?
- Sir's of course.

He was taking off his overcoat...
in this weather!

"God help the man who stops me!"
he shouted.

And then he threw the coat
to the ground.

Just like King Lear
in the storm scene.

Look at it. I don't know
that I'll ever get it clean.

And he was so proud of it.

Do you remember... oh, no,
perhaps it was before your time...

first Canadian tour, Toronto.

What happened
after he took off his coat?

He started on the hat.

Dunn's hat, Piccadilly,
over a year ago.

Down on the coat it went,
and he jumped on it.

He stomped on his hat.

Viciously stomped on his hat,
as you can see.

Then he lifted his arms in the air
like he does to convey

sterility into Goneril's womb,

"How much further
do you want me to go?"

His fingers were all of a fidget,
undoing his jacket,

loosening his collar and tie,

tearing at the buttons
of his shirt.

- Were there many people about?
- A small crowd.

That's why I ran to him.

I didn't want him
to stand there looking ridiculous.

People were all around snickering.

Did he see you?
Did he know who you were?

I didn't wait to find out.

I just took his hand and I said,
"Good evening, Sir.

Shouldn't we be getting to the theater?"
in my best nanny voice.

The one I use
when he's being wayward.

He paid no attention.

He was shivering.

You shouldn't have let the public
see him like that.

It's easy to be wise
after the event,

if you don't mind my saying so,
Your Ladyship,

but I tried to spirit him away.

Not easy with a man
of his proportions.

Only, just then...

a woman approached.

Quite old, wearing bombazine
under a tweed coat,

but perfectly respectable.

She picked up his clothes
and wanted to help him dress.

And Sir said to the lady...

"Thank you, my dear,
but Norman usually helps me.

I'd be lost without Norman."

And I thought,
"Well, this is your cue, ducky,"

so I said, "I'm Norman.
I'm his dresser."

And the woman,
she had her hair in curlers,

she took his hand,
she kissed it.

And she said, "You was lovely
in 'The Corsican Brothers."'

(BOTH CHUCKLE)

Then he looked at her for a long time,
and then he smiled sweetly.

You know the way he does
when he's wanting to charm.

"Thank you, my dear,
but you must excuse me.

I have to make an exit."
(CHUCKLING)

- And he ran off.
- He said, "I have to make an exit"?

But, of course, I followed him.

Fearing the worst.

I didn't know
he could run so fast.

I just followed his trail of discarded
clothing... the jacket, the waistcoat.

I thought, "We can't have Sir
doing striptease 'round town."

And then I found him.

Leaning up against a lamppost.

- Weeping.
- Where?

Outside the Kardomah.

Without a word,
hardly knowing what I was doing,

I lead him to the hospital.

The sister...
(CHUCKLES)

didn't recognize him.

And later she said she'd seen him
last night as Othello.

A doctor was summoned.

Short, bald, bespectacled,

and I was excluded
by the drawing of screens.

- And then you telephoned me?
- No.

I waited, I lurked,
as Edgar says.

And I heard the doctor whisper,
"This man is exhausted.

This man is in
a state of collapse."

And that's how it happened.

(AIR RAID SIREN BLARING)

(SIGHS)
He did nothing but cry.

Yes, you said.

I left him lying on top of the bed,

still in his clothes, crying...
no, weeping.

As though he'd lost control,
had no choice.

Wept and wept, floodgates.

- What are we to do?
- (SIREN STOPS)

In an hour, there will be
an audience in this theater

hoping be to see him
as King Lear.

What am I to do?

Well, don't upset yourself
for a start.

Well, I've never had to make
this sort of decision before.

Hmm.

Any sort of decision before.

As soon as I came out of the hospital,
I telephoned Madge

and asked her to meet me here
as soon as possible.

- She'll know what to do.
- Oh, yes, Madge will know what to do.

She won't upset herself,
that's for certain.

No, Madge will be
ever so sensible.

And I suppose stage managers
have to be.

I had a friend once,

had been a vicar

before falling from the pulpit
and landing on the stage.

Ever so good as an ugly sister.

To the manner born.

His wife didn't upset easily.

Hmm, just as well, I suppose,
all things considered.

Madge reminds me of her...

cold, businesslike, boring.

The doctor took me
into a little room

littered with enamel dishes
full of blood-stained bandages.

The smell made me faint.

He asked me about
his behavior in recent days.

Had I noticed anything untoward?

And what did you say,
if you don't mind my asking?

- I lied.
- Oh...

I said he'd been
perfectly normal.

I don't want to
appear neglectful.

- I should have been more vigilant.
- (FOOTSTEPS)

Only last night I woke...

- Is that Madge?
- No, it's Irene.

You were saying?
Last night you woke.

He was looking at me.

He was naked.

It was bitter cold,
he was shivering.

He said, "Thank you for watching
over me but don't worry.

Just go on looking after me.

I have the feeling
I may do something violent."

Talk about untoward.

Now, you didn't tell the doctors that,
they'd have locked him up for good.

Last night, after "Othello,"
he asked me,

"What do we play tomorrow, Norman?"
I told him "King Lear," and he said,

"Then I shall wake with
the storm clouds over my head."

Oh, I should have made him rest.

The doctor said he'd come to the end
of his rope and found it frayed.

(SCOFFS) So would anyone
who had to put up with

what he's had to put up with.

You should've told the doctor
about the troubles.

No. Civilians never understand.

I could kick myself
for taking him to the hospital.

- It was the right thing to do.
- I hope so.

Doctors.

Can you imagine trying to explain
to a doctor what Sir's been through?

"But, you see, Doctor,
he's been trying to recruit actors

for his Shakespeare company,

and all the able-bodied
and best ones are in uniform.

And the theaters are bombed
as soon as you book them."

Doctors.

He'd have had his hypodermic rampant
before you could say "as you like it."

Madge is right.

There is no alternative.

- We'll have to cancel.
- Oh, no, oh, Your Ladyship.

- No, cancellation's ever so drastic.
- He's ill.

There's no crime in being ill.

It's not high treason.
It's not a capital offense.

It's not desertion
in the face of the enemy.

He's not himself.
He can't work.

Will the world stop turning?
Will the Nazis overrun England?

One Lear, more or less in the world,
won't make any difference.

- But Sir always believes it will.
- Oh, who really cares

whether he acts or not?

I never imagined that
it would end like this.

I've always thought
he was indestructible.

All the years
we've been together.

Feels like a lifetime.

Even longer, he and I.

It'll be the first time
we've ever cancelled.

- Look, I want to go to the hospital.
- No, Norman.

I want to sit with him, be with him,
and try to give him some comfort.

I can usually make him smile.

- Maybe when he sees me...
- They wouldn't even let me stay.

I wish I could remember the name of
the girl who got me into all this.

Motherly type, she was,
small parts, play as cast.

I can see her face clearly.

I can see her standing there,
on platform two at Crewe,

a Sunday, I was on platform four,
"Norman," she called.

We'd been together
in "Outward Bound,"

the number three tour,
helped with the wardrobe I did,

and, um, understudied Scrubby,
the steward.

That's all aboard a ship, you know.
It's a lovely first act.

"We're all dead, aren't we?"

And I say, "Yes, sir, we're all dead.
Quite dead."

And he says, "How long have you been...
have you been... Oh, you know."

"Me? Oh, I was lost young."

And then he says,

"Where... where are we sailing for?"

And I say,
"Heaven, sir. And hell, too.

It's the same place, you see."

Lovely.

Well, to cut a short story shorter,

Sir wanted help in the wardrobe

and someone to assist generally,
but mainly, with the storm in "Lear."

I've told you this before,
haven't I?

Put me on the timpani, he did.

And on the first night, after the storm,
while he was waiting to go on for,

"No, they cannot touch me for coining,"
he called me over.

My knees were jelly.

(LOWERED)
"Were you on the timpani tonight?"

I said, "Yes, Sir,"
fearing the worst.

(LOWERED)
"Thank you," he said.

"You are an artist."

My father was exactly the same.

Always exaggerated
his illnesses.

That's why I thought
it was not very serious.

- I thought...
- (FOOTSTEPS)

(DOOR OPENS)

Any further developments?

Better see the theater manager.
Perhaps you ought to come with me.

Oh, no, Your Ladyship,
please, let's take our time.

- Let's not rush things.
- There's no alternative.

Madge is right, we can't play
"King Lear" without the King.

- We have to make a decision.
- Forgive me, Your Ladyship,

it's not a decision
you have to make.

It's the right decision.

I had a friend,
in a very low state, he was,

ever so fragile,
a pain to be with.

You weren't safe from him
on top of a bus.

If he happened
to sit beside you,

he'd tell you the ABC of unhappiness
between request stops.

Someone close to him,
his mother, I believe,

although it was never proved,
understandably upset, made a decision.

"A little rest", she said,
"with others similarly off-center,

in Colwyn Bay."

Never a good date,
not in February,

wrapped in a gray rug,
gazing at a gray sea.

Talk about bleak.

Mother-dear made a decision,
but it was the wrong decision,

- and my friend never acted again.
- We have to face the facts.

I've never done that in my life,
Your Ladyship,

and I don't surmise
to start now.

I just like things to be lovely.

Yes, but things
aren't lovely, Norman.

They aren't if you face facts.

Face the facts,
it's facing the company I worry about.

I'll be in Madge's office
if I'm wanted.

Well, don't decide yet, Your Ladyship,
let me go to the hospital.

- Let me see how he is, you never know.
- I do know.

I realize now that I've witnessed
a slow running down.

I've heard the hiss
of air escaping.

- MAN: Norman! Norman!
- (GASPS)

Good evening, Sir.

Good evening, Norman.
Good evening, Pussy.

- PUSSY: Bonzo, why are you here?
- (DOOR CLOSES)

Well, my name is on the door.

- Did the doctors say you could leave?
- Doctors?

(SCOFFS)
Executioners.

Do you know what he told me?
A short, bald butcher.

Il Duce in a white coat.

When a doctor tells you
you need rest,

you can be certain
he has not the slightest idea

of what is wrong with you.

I discharged myself.

- Telephone the hospital.
- Do not telephone the hospital!

Norman, will you leave us, please?

I'll see Madge and tell her
there is an alternative.

Shh.

PUSSY:
You're fit for nothing.

Please, Pussy, don't.

- Cancel the performance.
- Can't, mustn't, won't.

- Then take the consequences.
- When have I not?

Where have you been all day?

Don't tell me you found
a brothel in this town.

I can't remember all I've done.

I know towards the evening,
I was being pursued,

but I couldn't see
who the villains were.

Then the air raid warning went.
I refused to take shelter.

Wherever I went,
I seemed to hear a woman...

crying.

Then, suddenly,
I had a clear image of my father

on the beach

near Lowestoft.

"An actor?" he said, "Never!"

"You will be a boat builder like me."

But I defied him...
lost his love.

Father preferred
people to cower.

But I had to chart
my own course.

I decide when I'm ready
for the scrapyard.

Not you, I.

No one else. I.

The woman you heard crying
was me.

- Norman!
- Sir?

- I want you by me, Norman.
- Yes, sir.

- Don't leave my side, Norman.
- No, sir.

- I shall need help, Norman. Madge.
- Yes, sir.

You speak to him.
He doesn't listen to a word I say.

- He's obviously incapable.
- You look exhausted.

Oh, well, now,
that's what I call tact.

Are you sure you're able
to go on tonight?

- How long have you been with me?
- Longer than anyone else.

- Have I ever missed a performance?
- No, but then you've never been ill.

I only want what's best for you.

What's best for Sir is that
he's allowed to get ready.

Ready, yes, I must get ready.

(GROANING)

Ready for what?

If you'll excuse me, Your Ladyship,
shouldn't you be getting ready, too?

- I can't bear to see him like that.
- Then best to leave us.

I've had experience
with these things.

- (GROANING CONTINUES)
- I know what has to be done.

Imagine waking to that
night after night.

(CHUCKLING)

Right, shall we begin at the beginning?
Good evening, Sir.

"Good evening, Norman."

And how are you
this evening, Sir?

"A little tearful, I'm afraid.

And you, Norman?"
Oh, I'm very well.

Thank you.

I've had ever such a quiet day.

Just, uh, ironing your costumes,

and cleaning your wig and beard,

washing your undies.

And what have you been up to,
Sir, if I may ask?

"Oh, I've been jumping
on my hat, Norman."

Have you?
Well, that's an odd thing to do.

May one ask why?
"Why what, Norman?"

Why have we been
jumping on our hat, Sir?

(SIR GRUMBLING)

Should we play I Spy?

Yeah.
I spy with my little eye

something beginning with

Now, I know you won't guess
so I'll tell you.

"A" is for actor.

And actors have to work.

And actors have to put on
their makeup.

And change their frocks.

And then, of course,
actors have to act.

Good Lord.

"Zounds, madam,
where dost thou get this knowledge?"

"From a baboon, sir,
that wandered wild in Eden."

(CHUCKLING)

Or words to that effect.

There's less than an hour to go,
and you usually want more.

So, come on,
shall we make a start?

Yes, it's me, Norman,
the one with the soulful eyes.

There.
Come on, drink up.

It's tea, not rat poison.

There... there you go.
That's better, isn't it?

Isn't it?

Now, would you like a bickie?

I saved some from
the mayor's reception in Bridlington.

No?

- "Well, would you like one, Norman?"
- Ooh, I say.

Thank you, I will.

If you don't mind
my saying so, Sir,

there seems little point
in discharging yourself from hospital

and then coming to
sit here like Niobe

prior to being turned into stone.

So... shall we make a start?

No, don't do that.
That's what I'm here for.

- (CRYING)
- Oh!

Oh, I know how it feels.

I had a friend...

worse than you, he was.

And all they ever wanted to do
with him was put him away.

Oh, no one should
have to go through that.

That's what my friend said.

You know they'll send you
to Colwyn Bay,

and you never do any business
in Colwyn Bay.

And guess
what got my friend well.

Sounds silly, this.
An offer of work.

"Can you understudy Scrubby?

"Outward Bound," start Monday."

He discharged himself,
just like you, my friend did,

took the train up to London,

found digs in Brixton,
and never looked back.

Now, what do you make of that?

An offer of work.

You see,
it meant that someone...

was thinking of him.

It was ever such a comfort.

And here's something
to cheer you up...

a full house tonight.

People thinking of you,
wanting to see you act.

- Really? A full house?
- Now, shall we make a start?

- What play is it tonight?
- "King Lear," Sir.

- Oh, that's impossible.
- Oh, thank you.

Oh, that's nice, isn't it?

People paying good money to see you
and you say "impossible."

- Very nice indeed, I don't think.
- I don't want to be seen.

Well, that's, um, difficult
when you're playing King Lear

- with the lighting you use.
- I don't want to see her ladyship.

Oh, well, even more difficult
when she's playing your daughter.

You saw her a moment ago.
You were alone together.

Were we?

What play is it tonight?

"King Lear," Sir.

- Madge was wrong.
- Yes, well, she often is.

I have been ill before this.

Did you ever see me in
"The Corsican Brothers"?

Ah, no.
Alas, Sir, before my time.

I went on with
double pneumonia then.

Apt when you're playing
"The Corsican Brothers."

(BOTH LAUGHING)

I'd rather have
double pneumonia than this.

Than what?

What prevents me from
packing up and going home?

I mean, why am I here
when I should be asleep?

Wasn't that a strange light

in Market Square this evening?

I don't remember
being in Market Square.

You've been missing whole days.

What do you remember?

Walking, walking, walking.

If only I could find
a good, catchy title.

I think "My Life" a little plain,
don't you?

- Still stuck, are we?
- No, no. I wrote a little today.

Two or three sides of an exercise book,
but I cannot find a title!

- Oh, well, we'll think of something.
- See if it's still in my jacket.

And my reading glasses.

I thought I had written today.

No, well, you'll not
see much through those.

Well, look for me.

Is there anything?
Evidently not.

It cannot be "Lear" again.

Shall we start our makeup?

I'm getting out of here.

I'm not staying in this place
a moment longer.

I am surrounded by vipers!

Betrayal on every side!

I'm being crushed!
Lifeblood is draining out of me!

The load is too much!
Norman!

Norman! Ah!

If you have any regard for me,
don't listen to him!

- Who-who?
- More, more, more!

I cannot give any more!
I have nothing more to give!

I want a tranquil senility!

I'm an old man and you want to
go on painting my face

night after night after night,

dressing up in clothes
that are not my own!

I'm not a child dressing up
for charades!

This is my work.

This is my life's work.

Oh, I'm an actor.

Who cares if I go out there tonight
or any other night and shorten my life?

Shorten my life...

I don't care if there's only
three people out front,

or if the audience laughs when they
shouldn't, or don't when they should,

one person, just one person
will know and understand,

and I act for him.

I cannot move that
which cannot be moved.

- What are we on about now?
- I'm filled inside with stone.

Stone upon stone.
I cannot lift myself.

The weight is too much.

Oh, I know futility
when I see it.

I dream at night of unseen hands
driving wooden stakes into my feet.

The dream is long and graceless.

I awake,
sweat-drenched, poisoned.

The whole day long,
there's a burning heat inside of me,

driving all else from my mind.

(GRUNTS)

What did I do today?

You walked.

You thought you wrote.

Uh, you went into Market Square.

And a woman kissed your hand

and said you were lovely in
"The Corsican Brothers."

How do you know all this?
Has someone been talking?

I don't wish to hurry you, Sir.

No, I lie, I do.

- I hate the swines.
- Who?

He's a hard taskmaster,
he drives me too hard!

- I have too much to carry.
- (FOOTSTEPS)

- Yes?
- I'd like to see him.

I'd rather you didn't.

It's my responsibility
to take the curtain up tonight.

- There isn't much time.
- Things have reached a delicate stage.

- SIR: What's all the whispering?
- Nothing, nothing.

- Has he begun to makeup yet?
- Not yet.

Do you realize how late it is?

They'll be calling the half
in a moment.

- I know how late it is.
- (SIR HUMMING)

Then on your head be it.

NORMAN: Oh, look!
A dressing gown!

Shall we put it on
and keep ourselves warm?

What does it matter where you were
or what you did today?

You're here in the theater,
safe and sound, where you belong.

Another full house.
Lovely.

Really?
A full house?

They'll be standing in the gods.

You know they bombed
the Grand Theater, Plymouth?

And much else of the city beside.

I made my debut at
the Grand Theater, Plymouth.

They weren't to know.

I shouldn't have come out this autumn
but I had no choice.

- He made me.
- Who?

I should have rested.

I had a friend
who was ordered to rest.

He obeyed,
and that was the end of him.

He was ever so ill.

Nearly became a Catholic.

Right, now, would you like
a little rubdown?

I'm not surprised
you're feeling dispirited.

It's been ever such a hard time.

No young men to play juveniles

and the trouble with
Mr. Davenport-Scott.

What news of
Mr. Davenport-Scott?

- The police have opposed bail.
- What?

Well, he'd had his second warning.

How, then,
do we dispose our forces?

Uh, Mr. Thornton is standing by
to play Fool.

- And who as Oswald?
- Mr. Brown, I'm afraid.

That leaves me a knight short
for "reason not the need."

98 short, actually,
if you take the text as gospel.

One more or less
won't seem too upsetting.

Herr Hitler has made it very difficult
for Shakespearean companies.

It'll be a chapter
in the book, Sir.

I hate to mention it, but we're
going to be short for the storm.

We've no one to operate
the wind machine,

not-not if Mr. Thornton
is to play Fool.

Mr. Thornton was ever so good
on the wind machine,

and Madge knows the problem,
but she's very unsympathetic.

You tell Madge, from me,
I must have the storm at full strength.

- What about Oxenby?
- Not the most amenable of gentlemen.

Send him to me at the half.
I'll have a word with him.

Better talk to Thornton, too.

There you are, you see?

That's more like it.

You're where you belong,
doing what you know best,

and you're yourself again.

Right, well,
you start doing your makeup,

and I'll go and tell them
to come and see you.

I've cleaned the wig and beard.

Shan't be a minute.

(MUSIC PLAYING)

Oh, no, Sir!
Not Othello!

The lines are fouled.

Up on your short, down on your long.
Is there a dead for it?

Instruct the puppeteer
to renew the strings.

The stuffing is escaping
at the seams,

straw from a scarecrow
lies scattered down, stage left.

NORMAN: I would have given anything
to see the play tonight.

There's you,
all blacked up and...

(CHUCKLES)
Cordelia saying,

"You beget me,
bred me, loved me."

(BOTH CHUCKLING)

Well, the time has come,
if you don't mind my saying so,

to stop waxing poetical
and to wax a bit more practical, eh?

- (KNOCKING ON DOOR)
- Who?

I... Irene.

- I've-I've come for the triple crown.
- Enter.

- Good evening, Sir.
- All well?

- Oh, yes, thank you, Sir.
- You've come for the triple crown.

Yes, Sir.

Polish it well.

- I like it gleaming.
- Yes, Sir.

And return it to me
well before curtain up.

- I like to wear it by the quarter.
- Yes, Sir.

And when I have
used it on stage,

see that it is returned to my room
after the interval.

She has done it before, Sir.

I like to be certain.

There it is, my child.

Pretty young thing, aren't you?

Thank you, Sir.

Sir, it's time to age.

They're all the same color.
Which stick do I use?

I can't see the c...
the colors.

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

- Oh, what now?
- How is he?

He'll be all right...
if he's left in peace.

- I want to see with my own eyes.
- No, no, he is not to be disturbed.

- And what about the understudies?
- Well...

he knows all about it,
no, everything's in hand.

You realize now there's going to be
an audience out there.

It'd be a bit silly going through
all this if there wasn't.

Will he be ready on time?
Will he be well enough?

Yes.

Madge, can I just, um...

- Who was that?
- Just a minion minioning.

Too many interruptions,
my concentration.

- Ahem.
- Norman.

Yes, Sir?

How does the play begin?

- Which play, Sir?
- Tonight's, tonight's.

I cannot remember the first line.

"Attend the lords of France
and Burgundy, Gloucester."

Yeah. Yes.

- What performance is this?
- Well, tonight will be your...

227th performance of the part, Sir.

227 Lears and I cannot
remember the first line.

Haven't we forgotten something else,
Sir, if you don't mind my asking?

- We have to sink our cheeks.
- Yeah.

(MUSIC PLAYING)

I shall look like this
in my coffin.

And a broad straight line of
number 20 down the nose.

Give you strength, you say.

Surgical spirit.

SIR:
I know how to stick on a beard.

I've been a depicter
for 50 years.

I shall need a rest
after the storm scenes.

NORMAN: There's no need to tell me.
I know.

And shall we take extra care
with the wig join tonight?

SIR: I shall give them
a good one tonight.

- Norman!
- Yes, Sir?

What is the first line again?
All this clitter-clatter-chitter-chatt...

"Attend the lords of France
and Burgundy, Gloucester."

You've put it out of my mind!
You keep silence when I'm dressing!

- I have work to do, hard bloody labor.
- Sir, Sir.

I cannot remember the first line
in 100,000 performances.

- Have to ask you for the first line!
- Yes, well, I'll take you through it.

Take me through it?!
Nobody takes you through it!

You're put through it
night after night after night!

- I haven't the strength.
- And you're a fine one.

I must say...
you of all people,

you disappoint me,
if you don't mind my saying so.

You, who always say
that self-pity

is the most unattractive quality
on stage or off.

Who have you been working for
all these years?

The Ministry of Information?

Struggle and survival, you say,
that's all that matters.

The whole world is struggling for
bloody survival, so why can't you?

My dear Norman,
I seem to have upset you.

I'm sorry. I understand
that we cannot always be strong.

There is danger
in covering the cracks.

Never mind about
covering the cracks.

- What about covering the wig join?
- (KNOCKING ON DOOR)

- Half an hour, please, Sir.
- Already?

You were in late
this evening, Sir.

She hasn't returned
with the triple crown.

I like it on my head by now.

- Look!
- What?

My hands, they're shaking.

Well, they'll be
very effective in the part.

- Don't forget to make them up.
- I can't stop them.

- You do them.
- Oh, oh, look here.

- Must be infectious.
- (BOTH CHUCKLING)

I can face the division of
my kingdom.

I can cope with Fool.

I can bear the reduction of
my retinue.

I can stomach the curses
I have to utter.

I can even face being whipped
by the storm.

But I dread the final entrance.

To carry my Cordelia...

dead, dead.

To cry like the wind...

howl, howl, howl.

To lay her gently
on the ground to die.

Have I the strength?

If you haven't the strength,
no one has.

You're a good friend, Norman.

Keep up them.

- You shall be rewarded.
- Pardon me while I get my violin.

Do not mock me.
I may not have long.

Oh, my father used to say that.

He lived till he was 93.
He may still be alive, for all I know.

Bonzo, how do you feel?

- A little more myself, Pussy.
- You see?

Once he's assumed the disguise,

he's a different man.
(LAUGHING)

"Egad, Madam,
thou hast a porcupine wit."

And are you sure
you're able to go on?

On and on and on.

Pussy, I thought it was
the black one tonight.

- (CHUCKLES) My dear.
- Did I wake in the night, Pussy?

Did I thank you
for watching over me?

Was there talk of violence?

No, Bonzo, you dreamt it.

I still have the feeling.

Would you like me to fetch the cloak
and tie it on as usual?

Yes, as usual.

Oh, um, Mr. Thornton and Mr. Oxenby
are waiting outside to see you.

Would you like me
to ask them to come in?

I don't want to see Oxenby.
He frightens me.

Mind you, he was the best Iago
I've ever had or seen.

And I include that 4'6" ponce
Sir Arthur Palgrove...

That's more like the Sir
we know and love.

Till he was 68. There were more lines
on his face than steps to the gallery.

I saw his Lear.
I was pleasantly disappointed.

Sir Arthur Palgrove. Who advises
His Majesty, answer me that?

- You're a miracle worker, Norman.
- Thank you, Your Ladyship.

- Here's a piece of chocolate for you.
- Oh, thank you, Your Ladyship.

It'll be all hands to
the pump tonight, Norman.

Oh, just a small part of the service,
Your Ladyship.

Thank you.

Don't suppose I didn't see that,
because I did.

There are more children
in this beloved land of ours

scavenging the larders
for something sweet.

If only they came to me,

I could tell them of
the one person in England

who has an inexhaustible supply
of chocolate.

Because it is I who have to
carry her dead as my Cordelia.

It is I who have to
lift her up in my arms.

Thank Christ, I thought,
for rationing,

but, no, she would find sugar
in a sand dune.

- Shall I show the actors in, Sir?
- What? No, I don't... no.

You have to see the actors.

Oh, Mr. Thornton.

- Mr. Thornton to see you, Sir.
- Oh.

(SIR GARGLING)

(SPITS)
Geoffrey, does the costume fit?

Well, Mr. Davenport-Scott
was such a tall man.

Mr. Davenport-Scott
was a worm.

You look, uh...

- Do you know the lines?
- Yes.

- Don't keep me waiting for them.
- Oh, no.

- Pace, pace, pace, pace, pace, pace.
- Yes.

- And keep out of my focus.
- Yes.

The boom lights placed in the downstage
wings are for me and me only.

Yes, old man, I know.

- You must find what light you can.
- Right.

- Let me hear you sing.
- What?

"For he that has the little tiny wit.
Heigh-ho"...

(WHIMPERS)

♪ He that has the little tiny wit ♪

- Oh, yeah.
- ♪ He... ♪

(WHIMPERING)

♪ He that has the little tiny wit ♪

♪ With a heigh-ho,
the wind and the rain ♪

♪ Must make content
with fortunes fit ♪

♪ For the rain,
it raineth every day ♪

All right.

Speak it, don't sing it.

And in the storm scene,

if you are going to put your arms around
my legs as Mr. Davenport-Scott did,

then around my calves,
not my thighs.

He almost ruptured me, twice.

Well, I'd rather I didn't, old man.

Feel it, my boy, feel it.
It is the only way.

- Whatever takes you.
- Right.

But do not let it
take you too much.

Remain within the bounds.

And at all costs,
remain still when I speak.

Of course.

Serve the playwright
and keep your teeth in.

Well, it's only
when I'm nervous.

Well, you will be nervous,
I guarantee it.

Uh, there will be no extra payment
for this performance.

I believe your contract is
"play as cast."

Yes.

- Good fortune attend your endeavors.
- Thank you, Sir.

God bless, Geoffrey.

I'd rather face
the Nazi hordes any day.

I hope Mr. Churchill
has better men in the cabinet.

- Mr. Oxenby is waiting, Sir.
- Oxenby? What-what... I don't know.

What-what-what does Oxenby want?

It's not what he wants,
it's what we want...

someone to operate
the wind machine.

I don't want to see Oxenby.
I can't bear the man.

It's stifling in here.

Well, no storm without him.

Mr. Oxenby to see you, Sir.

You wanted to see me?

L, um, I don't know, um, why?
Uh, Norman?

Sir was wondering
if he could ask of you a favor.

He can ask.

You've not been
with us very long,

but I'm sure
you've seen enough to know

that we're not so much a company

as one great big happy family.

And, uh, we all muck in
as required.

Uh, as I'm sure you've heard,

uh, Mr. Davenport-Scott
will not be rejoining the company.

Yes, I've heard.

You share a dressing room with one
or two of them, you hear nothing else.

It upsets the pansy fraternity

when one of their number is caught.

And because Mr. Thornton
is having to play Fool,

and because our two elderly knights
are setting the hovel

behind the cloth
during the storm scene,

we've no one to operate
the wind machine.

We'd ask, uh, Mr. Brown,
but he's really rather too fragile.

We were wondering
if you'd turn the handle.

- In short, no.
- Huh?

Anything else?

Has he read my play yet?

Perhaps the Russians have had
a setback on the Eastern Front.

Bolshevism will be
the ruin of the theater.

(NORMAN STAMMERS)

Fancy not wanting to muck in.

He hates me.
I can feel his hatred.

All I stand for, he despises.

I wouldn't read his play even if
he were Commissar of Culture.

Oh, I've read it.

- Is there a part for me?
- Yes.

I know what Oxenby's up to.

He's writing plays for critics,
not people.

Oughtn't we to be quiet
for a bit, Sir?

Where's the girl
with the triple crown?

Don't fuss.
I'll go and find her.

Oh, my dear.

- Norman has just gone to find you.
- Has he?

I must have missed him.

- Remind me of your name, child.
- It's Irene, Sir.

Irene.
Charming.

- Were you at the RADA?
- No, sir.

- I went straight into Rep.
- Of course, I remember.

- Which Rep?
- Maidenhead.

Maidenhead, yes.

Next week in Eastbourne.

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

I can't find her.

Just admiring her bone structure.

- Run along, Irene.
- Yes, run along.

(BELL RINGING)

Born actress.
Can tell by the cheekbones.

Put the crown on.
It's almost a quarter.

Shall I fetch her ladyship
and ask her to tie on the cloak?

How does the play begin?

God help me, that child
has driven it from my mind.

- (KNOCKING ON DOOR)
- Yeah?

Quarter of an hour, please.
A few minutes late, I'm sorry.

That girl Irene is going to be
the death of me.

The quarter, I can't.
I'm not ready.

Tell them to go home,
give them their money back.

I hate the swines.
I can't, I can't.

What are you saying?
Do you want the performance cancelled?

- No, he doesn't.
- SIR: How does it begin?

- For your own good.
- How does it begin?!

- You'll never get through it.
- He will.

- How does it begin?!
- Get out.

He'll be good and ready
when the curtain goes up.

We've run out of time.

(STAMMERS)
There's 20 minutes yet.

We'll go up late, if necessary.

Leave me in peace!
I cannot remember the lines!

Norman!
Norman, how does it begin?

"He hath been out nine years
and away he shall again."

(MIMICS FANFARE)
"The King is coming.

Attend the lords of France
and Burgundy, Gloucester."

"Attend the lords of France
and Burgundy, Gloucester."

"I shall, my liege."

- Yes?
- "Meantime we shall express

our darker"...

"Meantime we shall express
our darker purpose."

- "Give me the map."
- Don't tell me, don't tell me!

I know it!
I'll ask for it if I need it.

I have played this part before,
you know.

- "What do I fear?"
- Wrong.

"Know we have divided in three."

"Myself? There's none else by.

True, I talk of dreams,

which are the children of
a troubled brain."

Wrong play, wrong play.

"Can this cockpit hold
the vasty fields of France?"

No, that's another wrong play.

"Men should be what they seem.

- Macbeth shall sleep no more!"
- Now look what you've gone and done.

- What?
- (SIGHS) Go out, go out.

- You've quoted the Scottish play.
- Did I? Mac...

- Did I? Oh, Christ.
- Out!

- Now, turn round three times.
- (DOOR CLOSES)

Two, three...
Right, knock.

- Swear.
- Pisspots!

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

(BELL RINGING)

"My poor fool is hanged."

You'll be all right.

WOMAN:
Do we have a full house?

Struggle, Bonzo.

Survival, Pussy.

WOMAN:
Beginners, please, Act One.

- Beginners, please, Sir.
- Thank you.

Let us descend and survey
the scene of battle.

(AIR RAID SIREN BLARING)

The night I played
my first Lear,

there was a thunderstorm, a real
thunderstorm, but now they send bombs.

How much more have I to endure?

We are to speak
Shakespeare tonight

and they will go to
any lengths to prevent me!

- (LAUGHTER)
- I shouldn't take it

too personally, Sir.

Bomb, bomb, bomb us
into submission if you dare!

But each word I speak will be
a shield against your savagery!

Each line I utter,
a protection against your terror!

I don't think
they can hear you, Sir.

- Swines! Barbarians!
- (EXPLOSION)

(GROANING)

Oh, no. Oh, Sir.

- Just as we were winning.
- Perhaps it's timely.

He can't go on. Look at him.
Fetch Madge.

- Norman!
- Sir.

- Get me down to the stage.
- Yes.

By Christ, no squadron
of fascist Bolsheviks

will stop me now!

- (EXPLOSION IN DISTANCE)
- Do as I say!

- (ORCHESTRA PLAYING)
- (EXPLOSIONS IN DISTANCE)

- How is he?
- Who'll make the announcement?

- Mr. Davenport-Scott, of course.
- No!

- Oh, dear.
- You, then, Norman.

- Me, Sir?
- Do not argue, I've given my orders.

- I have enough to contend with.
- Sir, I'm not equipped.

- Do it!
- Come on.

Take the apron off,
for goodness sake.

(PLANE ROARING)

- (EXPLOSION)
- Oh.

- Ladies and gentlemen.
- (ORCHESTRA STOPS)

Ladies and gentlemen,
the warning has just gone.

An air raid is in progress.

We shall proceed
with the performance.

Will those...
will those who wish to live...

(CROWD LAUGHING)

Will anyone who wishes to leave,
do so as quietly as possible?

Thank you.

- (APPLAUSE)
- (SIGHS)

Stand by.

Stand by on tabs.

(WHISPERS)
Stand by on stage.

Go LX. Go flies.
Curtain going up.

I thought the King had more affected
the Duke of Albany than Cornwall.

It did always seem so to us.

- Geoffrey, was I all right?
- Yes, yes, old man, damn good.

Your Ladyship, was I all right?

- Better than Mr. Davenport-Scott.
- Really? Oh.

Do you mean that?
I was ever so nervous.

But do you think anyone
noticed the slip?

"Those who wish to live"...
ooh, I could have kicked myself.

- I was really all right?
- You were fine.

- Did he say anything?
- No.

Cueing grams.

MAN:
My services to Your Lordship.

- MADGE: Stand by, please.
- All right, Sir.

- Cueing timpani, Sir.
- (TIMPANI BEATING)

- MAN: And away he shall again.
- (TRUMPETS PLAYING)

- The King is coming.
- (APPLAUSE)

- Sir?
- What?

Her Ladyship's entered.

Oh, quite a nice round,
so it's your turn now.

You see?
What did I say?

Please, Sir, the entrance.
You're on.

Please, Sir, it's your entrance.

MR. OXENBY:
Me thought I saw him.

His procession formed,

100 knights his escort...

Mr. Oxenby's
having to be extemporize.

"Attend the lords of France
and Burgundy"...

The King, my father,
was, me thought, behind me.

From our camp we marched,

a goodly distance.

I ahead, as is our custom...

Sir, the natives
are getting restless.

Sound the fanfare again.

(WHISTLING, EXPLOSION)

Ah! Me thinks I see the King.

- (EXPLOSION)
- (CROWD GASPING)

No, I was mistook.

My Lord, with thy consent,

I shall to his majestic side,

there to discover
his royal progress.

- Is he coming or isn't he?
- Yes!

I'm cueing the King's fanfare again.

"Attend the lords of France
and Burgundy, Gloucester."

- (FANFARE PLAYING)
- Cue the knights, cue the knights!

Oh! Go on, go on.

Enter, for God sake!

(APPLAUSE)

Attend the lords of France
and Burgundy, Gloucester.

- I shall, my liege.
- Meantime, we shall express

our darker purpose.
Give me the map there.

Know that we have divided
in three our kingdom,

and 'tis our fast intent to shake
all cares and business from our age,

conferring them
on younger selves,

while we unburdened
crawl toward death.

Thou art a lady,
if only to go warm were gorgeous.

Why, nature needs not what
thou gorgeous wear'st,

which scarcely keeps thee warm.

But for true need,

you heavens,
give me that patience,

patience I need.

You see me here, you gods,
a poor old man,

as full of grief as age,
wretched in both.

If it be you that stirs these
daughters' hearts against their father,

fool me not so much
to bear it tamely.

Touch me with noble anger!

And let not women's weapons,
waterdrops,

stain my man's cheeks!

No, you unnatural hags!

I will have such revenges
on you both!

That all the world shall...
I will do such things...

what they are yet, I know not,

but they shall be the terrors

of the earth.

You think I'll weep.

No, I'll not weep.

I have full cause of weeping,

but this heart shall break

into 100,000 flaws

or ere I'll weep.

Oh, fool!
I shall go mad.

- (THUNDER SHEETS RUMBLING)
- Let us withdraw, 'twill be a storm.

I know you.
Where's the king?

Stay out of my focus, Geoffrey.

What is he thinking?
He nearly ripped off my wig.

(OVERLAPPING WHISPERING)

Geoffrey, wait.
Don't get in the light.

Don't hold up, no pauses.
Just keep the pace going.

Pace, pace, pace, pace, pace.

MAN:
Sir, I do know you.

Open this purse
and take what it contains...

Stand by.

MAN:
I shall go seek the King.

- MADGE: Stand by LX.
- Now!

- (THUNDER SHEETS RUMBLING)
- Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks.

Rage, blow, you cataracts
and hurricanoes will strike.

Thou sulfurous
and thought executing fires...

Louder!
He wants it louder!

SIR: Singe my white head
and thou, all shaking thunder,

strike flat the thick rotundity
of the world.

- Crack nature's molds, all germens...
- Come on, louder!

He wants it louder!
Come on!

Louder, louder now.
Louder!

Come on, come on.

SIR: Nor rain, wind, thunder,
fire are my daughters.

So old and white as this.
Oh, ho, 'tis foul.

Where was the storm?!

Where was the storm?

I ask for cataracts
and hurricanoes,

and I am given nothing
but trickles and whistles.

I demand oak-cleaving thunderbolts
and you answer with farting flies!

Norman, Norman!

- You have thwarted me.
- Sir.

I was there, within sight.

I had only to be spurred upwards

and the glory was mine
for the plucking.

And there was naught, zero,
silence, a breeze, oh, a breeze!

A shower, a collision of cotton wool,
a flapping of butterfly wings.

I want a tempest, not a drizzle!

Something will have to be done.

I demand to know what happened tonight
to the storm!

I'm pleased you're pleased.

I've never known you
not complain

when you've really been at it.

And, tonight,
one could safely say,

without fear of contradiction,
you were at it.

Come on, rest now.

You've the interval and all of
Gloucester's blinding before

"No, they cannot
touch me for coining."

And try to sleep.

You've been through it.

Or been put through it,

whichever you prefer.

And you need quiet,
as the deaf-mute said

- to the piano tuner.
- (BOTH CHUCKLE)

Mighty, Her Ladyship thought
you were tonight.

She did,
that was the word she used.

Mighty-"

(GROANS)

Of course, I cannot comment
on the storm scene,

but I did hear,
"Oh, reason not the need."

Tremble-making.

Never seen you
so full of the real thing,

if you don't mind
my saying so, Sir.

And here's a funny thing.

In the storm scene, while we were
beating ourselves delirious,

and I was having to jump between
thunder sheets and timpani,

like a juggler with rubber balls
and Indian clubs,

Mr. Oxenby came to our aid.

Uninvited.

Not a word said, just gave assistance
when assistance was needed.

Afterwards, just before the interval,
I thanked him.

"Get stuffed," he said,
which wasn't nice.

And then he added, scornfully,
"I don't know why I helped."

And I said,
"Because we are a band of brothers,

and you're one of us
in spite of yourself."

I did, that's what I said.

And he hobbled away,

his head down.

And if he was given to muttering,
he'd have muttered.

Darkly.

- Are you asleep, Sir?
- (GROANS)

To be driven thus.

- I hate the swines.
- Who?

Who is it that you hate?

- The critics?
- The critics? Hate the critics?

I have nothing
but compassion for them.

How can one hate the crippled,
the mentally deficient, and the dead?

- Bastards.
- Who, then?

- Who, then, what?
- Who then is it that you hate?

Let me rest, Norman,
you must stop questioning me.

Let me rest,
but don't leave me till I'm asleep.

Don't leave me alone.

I am a spent force.

My days are numbered.

(SIR GROANS)

- Is he asleep?
- I think so, yes.

- I'll sit with him.
- Oh.

Well, don't wake him,
Your Ladyship.

He's ever so tired.

- (CLANGS)
- Is it my cue?

No, it's still the interval.

I have things to say.

Norman tells me you thought
I was mighty tonight.

I never said anything of the kind.
He makes these things up.

What have you to say?

- What I always have to say.
- You know my answer.

You've worked hard.
You've saved.

Enough's enough.

Tonight, in your curtain speech,

- make the announcement.
- I can't.

- You won't.
- I have no choice.

You'll die.
Or end up a vegetable!

Well, that's your affair.

But you're not going to
drag me with you.

I'm helpless, Pussy.
I do what I'm told.

I cower, I'm frightened of
being whipped, I am driven.

Driven? No.
Cruel? Yes.

Obstinate? Yes.
Ruthless? Yes.

- Don't!
- For an actor,

you have a woeful
lack of insight.

Use your great imagination,
use your inspired gifts.

Try to imagine what I feel,
what I'm forced to go through.

I do!
But I need you beside me!

- Familiar! Real!
- I am beside you, darning tights.

Very familiar, quite real.

All I ask, Bonzo,
is that we stop.

Now, tonight, the end of the week,
but no more.

- I can't take any more.
- It's not possible.

- It is possible.
- No.

You deceive no one but yourself.

If that were true, why then am I here,
with bombs falling,

risking life and limb?
Why?

Not by choice.
I have a duty.

- I have to keep the faith.
- Oh, balls.

- What?
- You do nothing without self-interest,

and you drag everyone with you.

Me, chained...
not even by law.

Oh, would marriage have made
that much difference to you?

You misunderstand, deliberately.

I should have made
her divorce me, yeah!

You didn't get a divorce
because you wanted a knighthood.

- That's not true.
- True?

You know where your priorities lie.

Whatever you do is to your advantage
and to no one else's.

Talk about being driven.

You make yourself sound like
a disinterested stagehand.

You do nothing
without self-interest.

- You. Self. Alone.
- Pussy, please, I'm sinking.

Do not push me
further into the mud.

Sir. Her Ladyship.
Fantasies.

For God sake,
you're a third-rate actor-manager

on a tatty tour of the provinces,

not some Colossus
bestriding the narrow world.

Sir, Her Ladyship.
Look at me... darning tights.

Look at you.
Lear's hovel is luxury compared to this.

I'm not well.
I have half of Lear's life ahead of me.

I have to carry you in my arms.

I have "Howl, howl, howl"
yet to speak!

"Sir, Her Ladyship."
We're a laughing-stock!

You'd never get a knighthood

because the King doesn't possess
a double-edged sword.

Do you remember, years ago,
an actress, one of our Gonerils?

She was a tall, dark, handsome girl
with a Grecian nose.

- Flora Bacon.
- Was it? Yes, perhaps it was.

Flora.

Do you remember the night I was
rather hard on Norman because

he'd got my tights inside out during
a quick change in "The Wandering Jew"?

Or was it
"The Sign of the Cross"?

Whichever.

She turned on me.

"He may be your servant," she said,
"but he is a human being."

Then, to Norman, she said,
"Why don't you leave him?

Why do you put up with it?"
And Norman said, "Don't fuss.

He only gives as good as he gets.

He has to take it out
on someone," he said.

And he was right,
because Flora Bacon didn't understand.

"Slave driver" she called me.

Why ever did I employ her?

Her mother was Lady Bacon.
She invested 200 pounds in the company.

I thought tonight I caught sight of him,
or saw myself as he sees me.

Speaking, "Reason not the need."

"Go on, you bastard,"
I seemed to be saying or hearing.

"Go on, you've more to give.
Don't hold back. More, more, more!"

And I was watching Lear.
Yes!

Each word he spoke
was fresh invented.

I had no knowledge of what came next,
what fate awaited him.

The agony was in the moment
of acting created.

Ha!

And I saw an old man.

And the old man...

(SHUDDERS)
was me.

Don't leave me.

I'll rest easy if you stay.

But don't ask of me
the impossible.

Otherwise...

without you, in darkness,

I will see a locked door,
a sign, "Closed" in the window,

"Closed, gone away."

And a drawn blind.

I'll stay till Norman returns.

(LAUGHS)

I meant longer.

Please.

Oh, please, Pussy.

(GASPS)

Reassure me.

- I am sick.
- Sick?

Yes, so am I.

Sick.

I'm sick of cold railway trains,

cold waiting rooms,

cold Sundays on Crewe,
and eating cold food late at night.

I'm sick of packing and unpacking
and of darning tights.

I'm sick of the smell of
rotting costumes and naphthalene.

And most of all,

I'm sick of reading
week after week

that I'm barely adequate,
too old,

the best of a bad supporting cast.

Unequal to you,
unworthy of your gifts.

And I'm sick of having to put on
a brave face.

I should have left you in Baltimore
on the last American tour.

I should have accepted
Mr. Feldman's offer

and taken the 20th Century west.

Feldman thought
I wouldn't photograph well.

Swine.
I hate the cinema.

I believe in living things.

How quickly one's looks go.

They haven't built a camera
large enough to record me.

I wouldn't have minded
a modest success.

Why they knighted that dwarf
Arthur Palgrove I shall never know.

"Arise, Sir Arthur," said the King.
"But, Sir, I wasn't kneeling."

Not once in his whole career
did he put a toe outside London.

- I liked America.
- I hated the swines.

- (KNOCKING ON DOOR)
- Act Two beginners, please!

I must rest now, Pussy.
I want peace.

All you want is to have your cake
and to eat it.

I've never seen any point in having cake
unless one is going to eat it.

- (LAUGHS SARCASTICALLY)
- Ha ha ha ha.

- Everything jolly?
- Don't you know what knocking is?

Oh, please, Sir,
not in front of Her Ladyship.

Well, I've been mingling.

You should hear
what they think out there.

I have never known
an interval like it.

Michelangelo, William Blake...

God knows who else
you reminded them of.

And one poor boy...

an airman, head bandaged,

was weeping in the stalls bar,

comforted by an older man...
once blonde, now gray,

parchment skin
and dainty hands...

who went on saying,
"There, there, Adrian,

it's only a play.-"

Which didn't seem to me any comfort
at all because if it hadn't been a play,

then "There, there, Adrian"
wouldn't be so upset.

- Michelangelo, did they?
- And Blake.

- I'm going to my room.
- Please stay.

You must rest, Bonzo.
Mustn't he Norman?

- Yes, he must.
- Pussy...

(DOOR CLOSES)

Be gentle with Her Ladyship.

- I'm always gentle with Her Ladyship.
- Especially gentle.

Why?

Time of life.

Oh!

You mean flushes
and dizzy spells?

She's become very preoccupied
with herself.

Sounds like a bad attack of change.

- Be gentle. I don't want her hurt.
- Mm-hmm.

(BELL RINGING)

Ay, ay'

Sleep now.

- Anything else you want?
- Oblivion.

That'll come sooner or later.

And I hope later.

Well, I shall wake you
in plenty of time

so you can enter fantastically dressed
in wild flowers.

Sleep tight,
don't let the bugs bite.

Fetch Madge!

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

- Yes?
- It's going well, I think.

Except for your first entrance.

Come here.

Hold my hand.

Please.

- It's like ice.
- Cold with fear.

What are you frightened of?

Of what is to come.

You know who you're talking to, do you?
It's me, not someone to impress.

I'm speaking from my heart.

See, I've never before
felt so lonely.

- Oh, please, I have a show to run.
- Listen to me.

I am frightened
of what is to come.

And I meant it,
because for the first time in my life,

the future is hidden from me.

I see no friends.

I'm not warmed by fellowship.

I know only...
awful solitude.

An occupational hazard.

You wanted to see me,
about what?

I look on you
as my one true friend.

I have to go back to the corner.

Have you been happy?

Has it been worth it?

No, I've not been happy.

Yes, it's been worth it.

Madge, dear.

In my will, I've left you
all my press-cutting books.

I don't want to hear
what you've left me in your will.

Cuttings and notices
that span a lifetime,

an entire career.

And I've kept them religiously.

Good and bad notices alike.

Not all that many bad.

Talk of me sometimes.
Speak well of me.

Actors live on only in
the memory of others.

Speak well of me.

This is a ridiculous conversation.

You're in the middle of
a performance of Lear,

playing rather less mechanically
than you have of late,

and you talk as if you're organizing
your own memorial service.

The most wonderful thing in life
is to be remembered.

Speak well of me.

- You'll be believed.
- You'll be remembered.

- (BOOK THUDS)
- Madge, dear.

I have something for you.

I want you to have this ring.

If possessions can be dear,
this ring is the dearest thing I own.

Edmund Kean wore this ring
in a play whose title

is an apt inscription
for what I feel...

"A New Way
To Pay Old Debts."

When you talk of it,

say Edmund Kean and I wore it.

I once had it in mind
to give it to you...

years ago.

But you were younger then,

and I thought
you would misunderstand.

Yes.

A ring from a man to a woman
is easily misunderstood.

I know I'm thought insensitive...

but I'm not blind.

No, I've always known you were aware of
what the spinster in the corner felt.

You were right not to give me
the ring years ago.

I lived in hope then.

At least I've seen you every day,
made myself useful to you.

I settled for what I could get.

You're the only one
who truly loves me.

Beginners for Act Two.

- (KNOCKING ON DOOR)
- Who?

It's Irene.
I'm returning the triple crown, Sir.

- Come.
- (BELL RINGING)

Put it down.

Sir, will it disturb you
if I say something?

Depends what it is.

I just wanted to thank you.

- For what?
- The performance this evening.

- It's not over yet.
- I felt honored to be on the stage.

Open that drawer,
you will find a photograph of me.

I love coming into this room.

I can feel the power
and the mystery.

In days gone by, this would have been
a place where the High Priests robed.

A kindred spirit.

Lock the door.

- (KEYS JINGLE)
- (LOCK CLICKS)

Come nearer.

It's Irene.

Irene.

- You want to act?
- Yes.

- Passionately?
- Yes.

- With every fiber of your being?
- Yes.

- To the exclusion of all else?
- Yes.

You must be prepared
to sacrifice

what most people call...

- Life.
- I am.

- Your birth sign?
- Scorpio.

SIR: Good.

Ambition,
secretiveness, loyalty,

capable of great jealously.

Essential qualities
in the theater.

Have you good legs?

Come closer.

Let me see.

Higher.

Too good.

All the best actresses
have legs like tree trunks.

There's not much of you,
is there?

Such small bones.

You getting enough to eat?

(GASPS)

So young...

so young...

- Come here!
- (IRENE SCREAMS)

That's more like it!

Too late...

- too late.
- (IRENE GRUNTS)

Well, now, my dainty duck.

- My dearie-o.
- Let go of me!

- What was all that about, huh?
- He seems better.

Better than what or whom,
as the case may be?

I didn't think he'd get through
the performance tonight.

- He's not through it yet.
- Oh.

- I'm waiting.
- For what?

A graphic description of events.

Out with it, or I shall
slap your face... hard.

- (SCOFFS) I thought we were friends!
- I thought we were, too.

Irene...

I shall long remember welcoming you
into the company,

in the prop room of the Palace Theater,
Newark-on-Trent.

You were locked in the arms of
the Prince of Morocco, a married man.

An ever such a comic sight...

his tights round his ankles
and you smeared black.

And I said, "Don't worry.

Mum's the word,
but don't let it happen again."

Sorry, what am I supposed
to have done?

- Well, you tell me.
- About what?

About Sir.

- Oh, you know who Sir is, Irene.
- I'm late.

I have to help Her Ladyship
with her armor.

Her Ladyship's armor will keep.

Perhaps you didn't
understand the question.

- What did Sir do?
- I'm not telling you.

- Then I'll mark you for life, ducky.
- (GASPS) You!

You strike me
and I'll... I'll tell Sir.

I will. I will.
I'll tell Sir.

- I'll tell Sir.
- Oh, no, you tell Sir? Ooh, on me?

I quake in my boots.
I shan't be able to eat my tea.

Oh, tell Sir!
Never mind "tell Sir."

I'll tell you.
He did something.

Something obscene and furtive.

Something to get him pleasure.

- He lifted me up in his arms.
- Lifted you up?

And I understood...
I understood what he meant.

"So young, so young," he said,
and lifted me up.

"That's more like it," he cried,
and I knew, cradled in his arms,

that it was youth and newness
he was after.

It's not youth

or talent or star quality
he's after, ducky,

- but a moderate eater.
- (DOOR OPENS)

Oh, there you are.
You're late with my armor.

Off you go, dear. You'll have to find
another canoe to paddle.

Ours, I'm afraid...

has holes.

- (METAL CLANGING)
- (MEN GRUNTING)

- And go, electric.
- (SWITCH CLICKS)

(YELLS)

Be brief in it, to the castle,

for my writ
is on the life of Lear

and on Cordelia.

Nay, send in time.

Haste thee for thy life...

- You're on.
- Oh, I wish you wouldn't do that.

- You remind me of a laborer.
- MAN: some good I mean to do,

- despite of mine own nature.
- Ugh, God Almighty! (GRUNTING)

MADGE: Cue LX.

(TIMPANI PLAYING)

- (APPLAUSE)
- Howl!

Howl, howl, howl!

Oh, you are men of stones.

Had I your tongues and eyes,

I'd use them so that
heaven's vault should crack.

She's gone forever.

I know when one is dead
and when one lives.

She's dead as earth.

Lend me a looking glass.

But if her breath
will mist or stain the stone,

why, then... she lives.

This feather stirs...
she lives.

If it be so, it is a chance
which does redeem

all sorrows that ever
I have felt.

MAN:
Is this the promised end?

Or image of that horror?

And my poor fool is hanged.

No, no, no life!

Why should a dog,
a horse, a rat have life,

and thou no breath at all?

Thou it come no more.

Never, never, never...

never, never!
(CRYING)

I pray you, undo this button.

I thank you, sir.

Do you see this?

Look on her.

Her lips.

Look there.

Look there.

(GASPS)

Look up, My Lord.

Stand by, curtain down.

MAN:
Oh, let him pass.

He hates him that would
upon the rack of this tough world

- stretch him out longer.
- He's gone.

MAN: The weight of this sad time
we must obey.

Speak what we feel,

not what we ought to say.

The oldest hath born most,

we that are young
shall never see so much,

nor live... so long.

- MADGE: Go, flies.
- (APPLAUSE)

We have done it, Will.

We've done it!

Stand by for your curtain calls.

(SWITCH CLICKS)

Curtain going up.

(DOOR CLOSES)

- What play tomorrow?
- "Richard III."

Oh, slavery, bloody slavery.

- Norman, Norman.
- Sir.

What will happen to you?

Can you be a little more explicit?

What will happen to you
if I cannot continue?

Oh, stop it.

Nothing ever happens to me.
I lead a life entirely without incident.

But if I should be
unable to continue...

Well, there's no chance of that,
so I'm not bothering to answer.

- I worry about you, my boy.
- Don't.

- (KNOCKING ON DOOR)
- Who?

- Geoffrey.
- Come. Oh, God.

Just popped in
to say good night, old man.

Good night, Geoffrey.
Very fine in the storm scene.

Lovely.
I felt your love.

And that's what matters.

Oh, thank you.

Fool is by far
the most important part

I've ever played in Shakespeare.

I hope you feel
I didn't let you down.

Offer Geoffrey a small glass
of beer, Norman.

Thank you.

Well, such an odd feeling
tonight, old man.

Rather exciting to reach my age

to prove to others that...

one can act.

That's the wonderful thing
about this life of ours.

It's never too late.
Surprising things happen.

But there are disadvantages.

One gets the taste for more.

Cheers.

May good health attend you.

Bottoms up, Geoffrey.

GEOFFREY:
May I ask you a question, old man?

- Ask.
- Fool is a curious role.

You give your all for
almost an hour and a half

and then vanish into thin air
for the rest of the play.

The next you hear of me
is you saying that I'm hanged.

But why?

By Whom?

It seems awfully unfair.

My theory is that,
in William's day,

Fool and Cordelia were played
by one and the same person.

A very good double,
Fool and Cordelia.

Saved an extra salary,
of course.

GEOFFREY:
Well, things haven't changed.

As long as you feel
I didn't let you down.

In no particular.

Just one last thing, I won't keep you.
I know you're very tired.

But when you interviewed me,
I said that I didn't want too much.

Small parts, I said.

It may not be thought admirable,
but I have never put a jot at risk.

Never wanted to
scale the heights.

Played goodish parts,

tours, of course, never London.

I don't complain.
Touring's a good life.

Enjoyed my cricket in summer,
hockey in the winter.

Lovely women, long walks,

a weekly change of scene,

the English countryside
in all weathers.

What could be nicer?

But never risked a jot.

No, I've been lucky.
Mustn't complain.

Yeah, I expect I can get through
to the end of the chapter.

I've a little put by, and my wife brings
in a bit from her singing lessons.

I've no right to expect work,
not at my age.

War's brought
surprising employment.

All the youngsters at the front.

My grandson,

not a pro...

taken prisoner at Tripoli.

Hmm.

Sorry to be so long-winded,
but the point is,

if at any time
circumstances arise,

I should like to be considered
for better parts.

And I shouldn't want
an increase in salary.

I shall keep you
in the forefront of my mind.

Thank you, old man.

Well... good night.

Thank you for the drink.

I can manage.
Night, Norman.

Fine fellow.

Fine fellow.

NORMAN:
Shall we remove your makeup, Sir?

I hope Will is pleased tonight.

- I had a friend...
- Not now, Norman.

I had a friend who had ever such
a sweet singing voice,

but he lost it in Colwyn Bay
after a bad attack of sea mist.

But it came back to him again,

in the end, and do you know why?

Because he said to himself,

they also sing who only stand and serve,
or words to that effect.

- Are you pissed, Norman?
- Me, Sir? Pissed?

(MUTTERS)
Sir Percy, how you do tousle me.

Let me smell your breath.

There, told you.
Sweet as Winston Churchill.

- I can't have you pissed.
- (DOOR OPENS)

You're not dressed yet?

I'm a little slow tonight, Pussy.

I'm not waiting.

I'll go back to the digs
and see if I can get a fire lit.

- I won't be long.
- Good night, Norman.

I'm not sure whether
I should thank you or not.

Not.
Can't bear to be thanked.

PUSSY:
Good night.

Yes, good night.
See you tomorrow.

She's a good woman.

Good woman.

(BANGING ON DOOR)

- Who?
- Mr. Oxenby.

- What do you want?
- My manuscript.

- He won't read it, I know that.
- Keep your voice down.

He's not gone yet.
Just wait there.

He's a little slow tonight.

MR. OXENBY: All that struggling
and surviving has tired him, no doubt.

- Please, Mr. Oxenby.
- Outmoded hypocrite.

Tell him from me,
I look forward to a new order.

- I want a company without tyrants.
- Who'd be in charge?

I would.

You'll be lovely
with a bit success, Mr. Oxenby.

Your nose is browner
than usual tonight, Norman.

IRENE: Good night, Sir.
Good night, Norman.

NORMAN: If you hurry,
you'll catch Mr. Oxenby.

(SIR GROANS)

- Sir?
- Ah!

Oh, God.
Oh, good God!

I am tired, terribly tired.

Oh, the room is spinning.
I must lie down.

See if you can get me a taxi
in this godforsaken place.

- (GROANING)
- All in good time.

- Oh, don't cry.
- (CRYING)

- Now, don't cry.
- There's nothing left.

You stop that at once.

- I had a friend...
- Oh, for Christ sake,

I'm sick of your friends!
The motley crew they are!

Pathetic, lonely, despairing.

- Now, that's nice, isn't it?
- I beg your pardon.

Uncalled for.

Think of me as your friend.

Never despairing.

Have apologized.

Never, never despairing.

Well, perhaps sometimes.

At night.

Or at Christmas,
when you can't get a job in a panto.

But never once inside the building,
I thought.

Never.

(SIGHS)

Pathetic maybe,
but not ungrateful.

Too mindful of one's luck,
as the saying goes.

No duke is more privileged.

Here's beauty.
Here's spring and summer.

Here, pain is bearable.

And never lonely.
Not here.

For he that sheds
his blood today with me.

Soft, no doubt.

Sensitive, that's my nature.

Easily hurt,
but that's a virtue.

And I'm not here for
any reasons of my own either.

No one could accuse me
of base motives.

I have got what I want,

and I don't need anyone
to know it.

Inadequate, yes,
but never, never despairing.

I've begun "My Life."

Fetch it, the book.

I made a start.

You didn't get very far.

- What did I write?
- "'My Life.' Dedication.

This book is dedicated
to my beloved Pussy...

who has been my splendid spur.

To the spirit of all actors
because of their faith

and endurance
which never fails them.

To those who do the work
of the theater

yet have but small share
in the glory...

the carpenters, electricians,

scene-shifters, property men.

To the audiences who have laughed
with us, have wept with us,

and whose hearts have united with ours
in sympathy and understanding.

But finally"...

Oh, Sir.

"To the memory of
William Shakespeare...

in whose glorious service
we all labor."

(GROANS)

"My Life" will have to do.

Wait a moment.

Wait a moment...

"The carpenters,
electricians, scene-shifters"...

Sir?

Sir...

Sir?

Oh, Sir...

We're not dead, are we?

That's your cue.
You know the line.

"You lie, Jack Clinton

Lives.

Talk about untoward.

Oh.
Ooh... you're right.

The room is spinning.

Your Ladyship!

Madge!

- Anybody! -
- (FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING)

Wasn't much of a death scene.

Unremarkable.

And ever so short...
for him.

Where's Her Ladyship?

They all left before he did.

Couldn't wait.

I'll telephone her.

- And I'll get a doctor.
- Too late for a doctor, ducky.

What's going to happen to me?

Close the door.
Wait outside.

I don't want to wait outside.

I never wait outside.

I want to be with him.
I know my place, ducky.

Try and sober up.

Ambulance, please.

"Carpenters, electricians,
property men."

You cruel bastard.
You might have remembered.

Yes, Your Ladyship,
it's-it's Madge.

I-I was wondering
if you could come to the theater.

Yes...

(GROANS)

(PHONE HANGS UP)

Her Ladyship's coming at once.
She took it very calmly.

She asked for him to be covered
in his Lear cloak.

Covered in his Lear cloak?

Ooh, fetch the photographers, ducky.

Covered in his Lear cloak?!

This isn't the Death of Nelson,
you know.

Where is it?

(SNIFFLING)

There's no mention of
stage managers either.

Come out of here.

Are we going to get paid?

I mean,
is there money in the till

after deductions for income tax?

We've got to be paid
for the full week, you know.

Just because a man dies
on Thursday

doesn't mean to say
we get paid pro rata.

- Come away.
- Where will I go?

Where?
I'm nowhere.

Out of my element.

I don't want to end up running
a boarding house in Colwyn Bay.

What am I going to do?

- You can speak well of him.
- Speak well of that old sod?

I wouldn't give him
a good character,

not in a court of law.

- The ungrateful bastard!
- Out! Out! Get out!

- I don't want you in here.
- Holy, holy, holy, is it?

This isn't a shrine!
No pissing on the altar!

Ah! Stop it.

Speak well of him?
I know what you'd say.

I know all about you, ducky.

I have eyes in my head.

We all have our little sorrows.

I know what you'd say...

stiff upper, faithful,

loyal, loving.

Yeah, well, I have only one thing
to say about him,

and I wouldn't say it
in front of you...

or Her Ladyship, or anyone.

Lips tight shut.

I wouldn't give you the pleasure.
Or him. Especially not him.

If I said what I have to say,

he'd find a way
to take it out on me.

No one will ever know.

We all have
our little sorrows, ducky.

You're not the only one.

The littler you are,

the larger your sorrows.

You think you loved him?

What about me?

Oh, this is no place for death.

I had a friend...

(MUSIC PLAYING)