Original subtitles

[indistinct chatter]

- I didn't feel like eating anymore.

I hadn't spoken to the band or to Noor since.

- You are in a punk band?

- You seem upset. - People hate the band.

- How could you do this to us?

- It's like I don't even know who you are.

- Fuck Noor, and fuck you.

- No, fuck you. I quit.

- Amina, wait.

[intense music]

- And that was four weeks ago.

[laughter]

[solemn music]

♪ ♪

[breathes deeply]

♪ I don't care if it hurts ♪

♪ I wanna have control ♪

♪ I want a perfect body ♪

♪ I want a perfect soul ♪

♪ I want you to notice ♪

♪ When I'm not around ♪

♪ You're so fucking special ♪

♪ Wish I was special ♪

♪ But I'm a creep ♪

♪ I'm a weirdo ♪

♪ What the hell am I doing here? ♪

♪ I don't belong here ♪

♪ I'm a creep ♪

♪ I'm a weirdo ♪

♪ What the hell am I doing here? ♪

♪ I don't belong here ♪

♪ I don't belong ♪

♪ Here ♪

- Amina, wait!

Listen.

I spoke to my Sheikha,

and I've done a lot of soul searching.

Loads.

Tons. Masses.

I know you've got a good heart.

What you did, the music,

sure, it was sinful, offensive, disgusting, but...

I want to help get you back on track.

Get you back to you.

- Really?

- Mm-hmm. - [mouths words]

I was out of Lady Parts, good and proper...

And so, it seems, was Saira.

She hadn't spoken to any of the others in weeks.

And for the first time in a long time,

she had gone home.

[indistinct chatter]

[utensil clatters]

- Asalaamalaiykun Nana. - Valaikum salaam.

- Happy birthday.

- My favourite. Thank you.

- He doesn't need these.

He's diabetic.

- You were my good girl.

It was Ruksana who was always getting in trouble.

You were my sweet, quiet girl.

Kya hua?

What happened?

- Nothing happened.

I'm just not what you want.

- Life without the band

was definitely hitting Saira the hardest.

But everyone was having to adjust.

[dissonant tones]

[funky rock music]

Since the band's demise, Bisma got a job

as receptionist at a temp agency.

[phones ringing] [indistinct chatter]

Heartbroken after being dumped by Zarina,

Ayesha had totalled her car

in a moment of white hot road rage.

[horn honking]

She found new employment...

- Fuck off!

- As a food courier.

[horn honking] - Whoa!

- And then there was Momtaz.

She felt fully responsible for the article

and the resulting snafu.

She spent weeks monitoring the tidal wave of hate,

every day wading through the toxicity,

like Frodo journeying through the treacherous Mordor.

But for what?

It seemed like needless self-flagellation,

until...

[bright chime]

- [gasps, yawns]

- Out of the woodwork emerged the unfindable,

the unfathomable, the unfeasible:

the fans.

[rock music]

And they were clamouring for one thing.

- Gigs.

- With Noor's encouragement,

I was getting my life back on track

and finding a husband, like I always wanted.

- What's this?

- Why are you going through my rubbish?

- Because you're being weird

and not talking to us.

So I have to be weird,

go through your rubbish, like a raccoon.

- Like a raccoon.

- I'm gonna be late.

- Why would you throw Don Mclean away?

Mm? - You love Don Mclean.

- I don't. Stop. He's--it's inappropriate.

Unacceptable. You know, haram.

- [laughs]

Since when was Don Mclean haram?

- It could be argued

that putting Don Mclean into the bin,

it--it could be a bit haram.

- Uh, Buboo, give us a minute.

[sighs]

Now, listen.

When I was a girl, I was always told who to be--

- Yeah, Ma, I know.

You were always told what to do and who to be,

and now you've found yourself,

and you don't care what anyone thinks.

You don't worry about consequences

or have any idea of what is or is not appropriate.

You act purely on impulse and have no filter whatsoever.

I know.

Guess what, Ma.

I am not you.

[bell ringing]

- Hey, you okay?

Shit, man, that article was mad.

Ayesha told me the band broke up.

I'm sorry.

- I don't think this is appropriate.

- What are you chatting about?

- Our, you know, weird friendship thing.

Not exactly halal, is it?

- [scoffs]

Oh, what? You seriou-- come on.

- I wanted to do things right this time.

And despite my tarnished status,

Noor was determined to help me find the one.

- My second divorce went really smoothly, actually.

- Oh. - You know what they say.

- Mm? - Third time lucky.

- [laughs politely]

While I was trying to find Mr. Right,

Taz was trying to find a gig.

- It is loud.

Very loud.

- Coming in here, who do you think you are?

- Me? Um...

I'm just a girl, standing in front

of some community elders, asking them for a gig.

[rock music playing]

- Get out. - Ugh.

- My income will allow me to support two wives.

[upbeat music playing]

One tall, one short.

Inshallah.

Mm. - Mm.

- If someone's forcing you to wear all that,

you should say something.

- I'm just looking for a gig for my band.

- Is there someone you want us to call?

[heavy rock music playing]

- Yes, please.

I'm--I'm desperate.

Please, please help me.

See, I need a slot for my band, urgently, before--

I mean, who knows what might happen?

♪ ♪

- You taking the piss?

- Ugh, damn it.

[scoffs] Come on.

- Did you record "Bake Off"?

- The box was full.

- [groans]

- Any luck with finding your gig?

I don't know why you don't just do one yourself.

- Myself? - Hmm.

[upbeat rock music]

♪ ♪

[blade swishing]

[whooshing]

[bell dings, door slams]

[flame whooshes]

- Taz, what do you want?

- Listen, I'm sorry.

It was my fault.

Mea culpa re Zarina and the article thing.

It was massively my bad, but shit, man,

I mean, c-- it worked.

- What do you mean it worked?

- People are hearing our music.

We've got actual human fans.

Not even Russian bots. Bona fide homo sapienseses,

and they wanna hear us play.

- No one's talking to me.

- That's 'cause you went all nuclear on everyone

and told them to fuck off.

So...

You gotta be brave, and you gotta say sorry.

- I'm not saying sorry. - Uh, you bloody are.

- Whatever.

- You started Lady Parts.

You brought us together.

Now do it again.

[dramatic twangy music]

♪ ♪

- You planning on murdering us?

- We could have just hung out at mine

rather than this crime scene.

- Relax.

Just thought it best we meet on neutral territory.

- Neutral territory?

What do you mean?

♪ ♪

- No.

♪ ♪

- Hey, you guys good?

- Hmm, let me think.

I crashed my car, so I'm stuck working

as Uncle Sam's handmaiden riding around on a bicycle

like some stinking vegan.

What do you think?

- Yeah, sounds pretty shit.

Um...

Hey, I'm...

you know...

Sorry.

- What? - Speak up, mate.

Can't hear you mumbling.

- I'm sorry.

- Saira? Apologising?

I must be in an alternate universe,

or you must be an alien parasite

who has taken the form of Saira

because your home planet has run out of resources.

She feels human.

- Stop.

I'm sorry.

I'm actually sorry.

You know, deeply or whatever,

for the things I said.

- Shoving my Zen up my arse?

- No.

You broke the band up.

And you did nothing about it.

Zarina really kicked my heart in the nuts,

and you was a real bastard to me.

You said some really mean things.

- Sometimes I have anger issues.

- You do have fucking anger issues!

- I'm sorry.

Please.

I want the band back.

You're my fucking family.

I hate this.

I want us back together.

- No.

- What?

- We can't play with you.

You're just really wet and emo now,

and it's really killing my punk edge.

Sorry. - Fuck you.

- You're so wounded,

it's impossible to be mad at you.

- I'm still pissed off at you, though.

- Right.

So can we leave this crack den or...

- No, 'cause this crack den

is our gig venue.

- Gig? - Hmm?

- We're playing a gig this Saturday,

and this is our venue.

- What? - Yes.

But this gig is a chance to say who we really are.

Launch ourselves on our terms.

We're not playing some weird pub.

We're not auditioning for some creeps

or going cap in hand for a slot.

This is us, by us, for us.

[rock music]

- Okay, then. - Right, then.

Let's get our guitarist back.

[knocking]

- Can I help you? - I'm not here to speak to you.

I wanna speak to Amina.

- Well, Amina doesn't wanna speak to you

after what you did. - It really kills you

to see her be her own person, doesn't it?

- Don't act like you know her. You don't.

She's my best friend. Not yours.

- Saira had been texting me nonstop about the gig.

But I had given up the band, the music, Ahsan, for...

- You look nice.

- Thanks.

[indistinct whispering]

And yet, no matter what I did,

why did it feel like I was always being judged?

[exciting theme music]

♪ ♪

[cheers and applause]

- Welcome, everyone, to "Rate My Date."

Amina is looking for the yin to her yang,

the flap to her jack,

the cute crop top to her high-waisted slacks.

And you, the esteemed panel of absolute randomers,

will determine if Amina is worthy of love

or if we should give her the shove.

[cheers and applause]

- So I heard you were in a band.

Bad girl, huh?

[crowd booing] [buzzer blares]

- What? No, I'm not bad.

- No, you're naughty.

Playing naughty music, huh?

[buzzers blaring] [laughter]

- It's not naughty music. It's meaningful.

It actually has something to say.

- I bet it does.

- Ooh! [buzzer blares]

- So do you give blow jobs?

[buzzer blares]

- What?

What did you say?

- Do you, you know, give blow jobs?

- Fuck this.

- Shit. Sorry. Fuck me.

- I'm sorry.

- What? - I'm sorry.

I'm sorry for being shit.

I should have messaged and not been a psycho.

I don't know.

I care about you,

with... feelings.

- With feelings? - Yeah.

But I can't-- we can't--

There are things that you want--

not bad things, normal things,

human things that you want that I can't--

[snaps] Ow.

- I free you.

- What?

- We're officially unofficial.

By the power vested in me,

I unshackle you from my evil man domination.

Boom.

- Um... cool.

- I'll see you around, though, right?

Like... - Yeah.

- Yeah.

- Sounds good.

- I'm sorry. I couldn't throw these away.

- It's fine.

- I know you're different to me.

And although it may not look it,

I do have few years on you.

What I will say is this,

and I hope you listen.

I think it is vitally important,

more than anything,

that you do exactly what it is you want to do.

Not what anyone tells you to do.

Not what anyone expects you to do.

What you want to do.

- It's not that easy.

- I know.

[sighs]

It has never been that easy.

But it is crucial.

This came for you.

[rock music]

♪ ♪

[indistinct chatter]

♪ ♪

- All right. Thank you.

Enjoy the show.

- Have you heard from Amina?

- She's ignoring my calls.

- Whoa, it's busy.

[indistinct chatter]

- Shit. - Aw.

- Fuck.

♪ ♪

- Speak, for your two lips are free.

Speak, for your tongue is still your own.

This straight body still is yours.

Speak, your life is still your own.

all: Sparta!

- Time enough is this brief hour

until body and tongue lie dead.

Speak, for truth is living yet.

Speak whatever must be said.

- Ma, we need to leave.

- Let's roll.

- One, two, three, four!

[punk music]

♪ ♪

- ♪ I'm gonna kill my sister ♪

[crowd singing along]

- Ma, hurry up. We're gonna be late.

[woman yodelling on radio]

- Babe, where you going?

- Noor, I'm playing the gig with Lady Parts.

- What?

- ♪ I'm gonna kill my sister ♪

♪ Die, die, die! ♪

♪ Want to kill her mister ♪

♪ She's mine, motherfucker! ♪

[cheers and applause]

- You're my best friend, and I'd love you to be there.

- No.

No.

- Fair enough.

- Booyah.

- Amina!

Good luck.

[engine revs] - Thanks.

[tires squealing]

- I'd like to dedicate our next song

to my sister, Ruksana.

[cheers and applause]

To all our sisters.

Blood, not blood.

[cheers and applause]

Um, this isn't ours, but we love it.

[bass playing Queen's "We Are The Champions"]

♪ ♪

♪ I've paid my dues ♪

♪ Time after time ♪

♪ I've done my sentence ♪

♪ But committed no crime ♪

♪ And bad mistakes ♪

♪ I've made a few ♪

♪ I've had my share of sand kicked in my face ♪

♪ But I've come through ♪

- ♪ And we mean to go on and on and on and on ♪

all: ♪ We are the champions, my friends ♪

♪ ♪

♪ And we'll keep on fighting till the end ♪

♪ ♪

♪ We are the champions ♪

♪ We are the champions ♪

- Okay! Okay! Go, go!

all: ♪ For losers ♪

♪ 'Cause we are the champions ♪

♪ Of the world ♪

[cheers and applause]

- Amina, you made it!

Right. Come on. Come here, come here.

- ♪ I've taken my bow ♪

♪ My curtain call ♪

- Amina!

Male escort reporting for duty.

- Geek. - [laughs]

- ♪ I thank you all ♪

- Right. This way. Just through here.

- Good luck!

- Amina, you have got this.

- ♪ But it's been no bed of roses ♪

♪ No pleasure cruise ♪

♪ I consider it a challenge before the whole human race ♪

♪ And I ain't gonna lose ♪

- ♪ And we mean to go on and on and on and on ♪

[cheers and applause]

both: ♪ We are the champions, my friends ♪

[electric guitar playing]

♪ And we'll keep on fighting till the end ♪

- Whoo!

♪ ♪

♪ We are the champions ♪

♪ We are the champions ♪

♪ No time for losers ♪

♪ 'Cause we are the champions ♪

♪ Of the world ♪

♪ ♪

[cheers and applause]

- [retching]

[audience exclaims]

- Sparta! all: Sparta!

[cheers and applause]

[upbeat music]

♪ ♪

- Whoo!

[upbeat rock music]

♪ ♪