All language subtitles for In.the.Name.of.the.Father.1993.1080p.BluRay.10bit.HEVC.6CH.MkvCage.ws

Come to me

Come lie beside me

And don't deny me your love

Make sense of me

Walk through my doorway

Don't hide in the hallway
oh, love

Step over

I'll follow you down

In the name of whisky

In the name of song

You didn't look back

You didn't belong

In the name of reason

In the name of hope

In the name of religion

In the name of dope

In the name of freedom

You drifted away

To see the sun shining

On someone else's day

In the name of United

And the BBC

In the name of Georgie Best

And LSD

In the name of the Father

And His wife, the Spirit

You said you did not

They said you did

In the name ofjustice

In the name of fun

In the name of the Father

In the name of the Son

Call to me

No one is listening

I'm waiting to hear from you, love

Hello, hello.

Good. I never said "thank you"
for taking up our case.

Never thought I'd trust
an English person again...

especially a lawyer.

Anyhow, I'll be as accurate as I can
with names, dates and places...

anything that might help
in our defence.

To explain how I happened
to be in England in 1974...

at the time of the bombing...

I'd better take you back
to Northern Ireland, where I come from.

Belfast in the early '70s was chaos.

It was strange to see
soldiers on the street--

all of them terrified
of the civilian population...

any one of whom could be
an IRA gunman.

I was just a petty thief...

stealing scrap metal.

In Belfast, that was
a dangerous occupation.

Get down, Gerry,
for fuck's sake.

Tommo!

The IRA had already
given me three warnings...

and when a British patrol mistook me for
a gunman, that got me into real trouble.

Is he trying to fucking shoot us?

There's a sniper! He's up there!

I can't get a bead on him.

Shoot him
before he fucking kills us!

Fucking bastards!

All right, hurry up
and tell Mr Kelly, love.

Two suspects proceeding
back west--

Mr Kelly!

Bastards!

We have to move the guns.
You go and move the gear.

Right. Everyone out now!
Come on!

Get out of the fucking way.
The Brits is after us!

The Brits is after us!
The Brits are after us!

- In here, in here!
- Gerry!

Come on, come on.
This way, lads.

Go! Go! Go, go!

Go on, Gerry!

Looks like they're
coming out of everywhere.

They're right in front of us, boys.

- Who is it?
- It's Conlon.

Grab him!

It's your brother!
Your brother Gerry!

Oh, my God!

Fucking English bastards!

They've started a riot
to cover the sniper.

If we can isolate him,
we can grab him.

Let's go, lads.

Let's go, let's go!
Move it!

Get that child out of here now!

Move that child!

Shoot that fucking gas now!

Come and fucking get us now,
you bastards!

Let him go, you bastards!

Fucking bitch!

You okay?

- I got a friend wants to talk to you.
- Oh, fuck's sake.

Hey, come on. We can do this
the easy way or the hard way, all right?

Let's be smart.
Come on.

They're taking
your brother away!

Where are you going now?

- We weren't robbing no houses.
- Don't fuck with me.

Suddenly you're a good boy?

- Have you been robbing houses again?
- We weren't robbing houses.

Search him.
Did you get away all right?

- Aye.
- Who was it?

- It was those two.
- Those two?

- That isn't mine. It isn't.
- Peter?

Shoot the bastards!
They're always robbing our houses!

Fuck you!

Daddy, Daddy,
the IRA has our Gerry.

Go on, show me.

Yo, give him that.

Right, Tommo, lad.

Tommo, get their trousers down.
I fucking warned you, Danny.

- Peter, we didn't do nothing, honestly.
- Give you a break?

What's she saying?
What are we supposed to have done?

This is what I'm gonna give you.
Now get your trousers down.

You just ran into the house
where we had all that gear.

What was I supposed to know?
I was trying to get away from the Brits.

'Cause you were
stealing lead again, weren't you?

You were stealing lead.

- Shut up, Danny!
- They were shooting at us.

- Get the strides down now.
- Why?

'Cause you'll get cloth in the wound
and lose your leg, that's why.

Come on, Peter. Give us a few slaps.
You don't have to shoot us.

- Fuck's sake.
- Fucking Tarzan.

Look at the balls on him!

Jesus! Christ!
Peter! Peter!

They're only young.
Give 'em a chance.

We were just trying
to scare some sense into them.

He was stealing lead again.

He ran through one of our houses
and started all this shit.

Did you start all this?

He'll never survive
in this town. Never.

This is the last time.
You two blow!

And, Danny, it's the last time.

- The same for you, Conlon.
- Pull up your trousers.

Come back here!

- We've never had a thief in our family.
- We've never had nothing in our family.

- Will you get a job?
- You know we can't get jobs.

I have a job.

Do you want me to work
as a bookie's clerk?

- I want you to have some respect.
- Aye, respect for who?

For yourself.

We're getting you out of here.

He'll do no growing up
in England, Giuseppe.

No family life there.

Oh, give over, Ma.

I'm gonna miss the boat.
What's that?

- Sausages for your Aunt Annie.
-Jesus Christ, Ma!

- Here you are, son.
- Here, let me do that.

All right, I'm ready.
Where are you going?

I'll walk with you.

Do you not trust me
to get on the boat?

I'm sure I'll be back
when I'm a millionaire, Gran.

Good luck. God bless.

I love you, son.

- Cheerio, Gerry.
- Behave yourself, Ann.

Cheerio, Gerry.

Bye, Bridie.

He's gone now forever.

I'll be surprised if he lasts a month.

Did I ever tell you
the time I jumped ship?

Jumped overboard
about 200 yards out to sea...

swam back to this
godforsaken place.

Why did you swim back?

There was a woman involved.

Oh, aye?

It was when I was healthy,
before you were born.

What was her name?

Aye, you know her name.
You know your own mother's name.

Sarah.
Sarah Maguire she was.

Then she had the misfortune
to change it to Conlon.

Boarding all passengers.

All second-class passengers
boarding now.

Go and live.
Go and live, son.

That's the best advice
I can give you.

Remember,
honest money goes further.

Honest money goes further.

A bird in the hand is worth
two in the bush.

Never look a gift horse
in the mouth.

He'd a cliche
for every occasion.

I'll give you a call.

Right, son.

I ran up the gangplank
to get away from him...

and then I suddenly
felt bad about it.

I decided to turn back...

to call him Giuseppe
for the first time in my life.

When I turned around,
he had already walked away.

- I just called after him.
- Good-bye, Da!

Then I met my old schoolmate,
Paul Hill.

Little did I know that after meeting him
my life would change forever.

You're under arrest.

Fuck's sake, Gerry!

- Still a head case.
-James Bond, license to kill.

Look at you-- you're a fucking nervous
wreck. What's the matter with you?

I'm glad to get outta Belfast.

Where're you going?

- I'm going to London. What about you?
- The same.

I need a drink.

Aye, I'm skint.
I'll let you buy me one.

Once upon a time
you dressed so fine

You threw the bums a dime
in your prime

Didn't you

I arrived in London
on the 26th ofJune.

My mother had given me
the address of my Aunt Annie...

but I had an invitation to a hippie
commune from my old friend...

Paddy Armstrong.

Jesus, Gerry, we've been
walking around for hours.

- It's only that big on the map.
- But it's a map, Gerry.

London's a big place, you know.

What I was really looking for
was free love and dope.

I think it's this way.

Paddy?

- Yeah, what is it?
- We're looking for Paddy.

- Paddy who?
- Paddy from Belfast. Paddy Armstrong.

- There's some people here to see you!
- Who is it?

Some Irish boys.

Jesus! Gerry Conlon.

What about you, Paddy?

Thought you was the drug squad.
Come on in.

There you go.

Welcome to Xanadu.

Hi.

Jesus fucking wept.

Neat, ain't it?

Deptford Jim.

- Paul Hill. Gerry Conlon from home.
- Right.

Before you can enter the circle...

you have to have
the rite of passage.

Open your mouth.

I enjoyed that.

They can't stay.

- There's not enough room.
-Jim!

Our rule:
No property. No law.

-Just love.
- All right, let's vote on it.

If you want Gerry and--

- What's your name?
- Paul.

We're gonna call you
"Saddest Moon".

- Fuck off.
- Right?

If you want Gerry and Saddest Moon
to stay, raise your hands.

Four, five, six--

- Put your hand up, Paddy.
- Right.

- Eight.
- Looks like we're staying then.

What shall we call you then?

You can call me "Wild One."

Here, hold on. Come here.

Get off, all right?

What's the fucking problem?

They have dead pig in here.

Just some sausages.

We're all vegetarians here.

I am a vegetarian.
We're both vegetarians.

I was just taking them sausages
to me Auntie Annie's.

I have to be around there now. I'll be
back in a few minutes, all right?

Be back in a few minutes.

Piggy.

And Porky.

Is she related to the
Royal Family or something?

Aye, she's fifth in line
to the throne.

Ferguson's sausages-- only good thing
that came out of that godforsaken place.

- Would you like some more?
- No, I'm fine, thanks.

- We better make tracks.
- Won't you stay? I've the bed made up.

You're very kind, but we need
a bit of space, Auntie Annie.

We're forming a band
and that there.

Aye. A rock band.

Where are you staying?

- The address, you mean?
- Uh-huh.

- Fillmore.
- Fillimore.

Fillimore Road.
It's number 60...

something--
the number dropped off the door.

What do you mean,
the number dropped off the door?

Well, would you let me have it
when you find out what it is?

- Aye.
- And would you phone your mother?

Aye.
There's only one problem.

It doesn't have a phone.

Hello, Marian. Any problems?

- Is it all there?
- Yeah.

Okay.
We're in business.

Watch the cracks.
Watch the cracks.

It's not fair.
Their skirts are covering the cracks.

He's cheating!

- I'm a referee!
- He's cheating.

- That wasn't too far away, was it?
- Is that a bomb, Paddy?

It's getting more like home.

Hello? Hold on, hold on.

Giuseppe. Giuseppe.
Long-distance call.

- What?
- Long-distance call.

- Go ahead.
- Hello?

- Ask him for the money.
- Hey, Da.

- It's Gerry speaking.
- Son.

- Hi. How are you doing?
- I'm fine. How are you?

It's been six weeks
since you've been in touch.

I know. Sorry about that.
I've been a bit busy.

It's just your ma's a bit worried,
you know. You still going to Mass?

- Aye, every Sunday. Like clockwork.
- Good.

- Are you working?
- I have a couple of things going here.

Ah, good.
And are you safe?

- How do you mean?
- From all the bombs.

Aye, you could just hear them
in the distance like, but--

Sorry about that.

- Are you stuck?
- How do you mean, Da?

Are you short of cash?

Uh, no. No, I'm flush
at the moment.

No problem.
No, I have plenty of money.

All right.
And, Gerry, keep in touch.

- Aye. All right. Bye-bye, Da.
- All right, son. I'll tell your ma--

Bye.

Sorry about that.

We've enough for chips.

Sorry, we'd only
enough money for two chips.

Are you all right?

What?

There's bombs everywhere.
People have been hurt.

There they are.
It's the Irish.

Bringing all their troubles
over here again.

Aye, it's all right when it happens
over in Belfast. You fucking prick!

I've seen people killed
in front of my fucking eyes!

- You stupid fucking prick!
- Go home! Fuck you!

I don't fucking believe this.
I'm getting out of here.

- Are you coming, Paddy?
- Where are you gonna sleep?

Ah, no problem. We'll sleep
in the park or something.

- I'll see you soon, sweetheart.
- Take care.

- Mind your fucking manners!
- Prick.

Troops have entered
the Ardoyne area of West Belfast...

since the collapse of the provisional
IRA cease-fire over the weekend.

Yeah, I'm watching it.

Civilians have been evacuated, and there
are reports of casualties in many areas.

- Both sides are blaming each other--
- Okay, I'll take care of it.

That's it. 8:00 tonight.

No warning.

That's my place.
Youse are sitting there too long.

CB-- Charlie Burke.
That's me.

I carved my initials
with this penknife.

No problem, Charlie.
No problem. Whatever you say.

Closing the park.
Park closing now.

- Easy with the feet there, Charlie.
- It's a big bench, you know?

There's room for three of us here.

You're Irish too, aren't you?

I come over here
when I was about your age.

Did you ever think
of going home, Charlie?

Ah, shit.

There's nothing for me
over there now.

- Closing the park!
- Could you lend us a few shillings?

I was gonna ask you the same.

- Gerry, we've no money left.
- It's all I have.

Well, now, like I wouldn't like
to take all your money.

No problem.
Catch you again, Charlie.

- Come on. It's not even 8:00 yet.
- All right, all right.

We must'vejust said good night
to Charlie Burke when the bomb went off.

All we were concerned about was
where we were gonna sleep that night.

We'd no money
in our pockets.

We hadn't even the bus fare to Guildford
even if we'd known where it was.

No fucking way I'm going
back to Belfast.

I tell you that.

- Hey, blondie.
- Hey, sexy.

- You dropped something.
- Back off, paddy.

She's outta your league.

Here.

It's her fucking keys.
I'm going in.

We should give 'em back, Gerry.
Put 'em through the letter box.

Put the keys back
in the letter box, Gerry.

Jesus Christ,
how much money is there?

I got £700 from
the hooker's apartment.

I did feel a little bit
guilty about that.

We spent that night
in a hotel.

The next day we went and bought
the same clothes-- the same trousers...

samejackets,
even the same shoes.

Hey, mister,
has your coat got fleas?

Who are those two gorgeous
women in the kitchen?

- Did you miss me, Bridie?
- Look at Gerry. He's a hippie!

Daddy, look at the money!

- Do you want it?
- Oh, my God!

Do you wanna be in my gang?

Yes, Gerry, I wanna be in your gang.
I wanna be in your gang.

- Over here.
- Take it easy.

Steady. Calm it down.
Just calm it down.

It's my money!
It's mine!

Calm it down. Stop it.

- It's my money! He gave it to me!
- Stop that!

Stop that!

And they were always talking about
the troubles, were they?

Yeah.
Especially Paul Hill.

He was always talking about Belfast,
the IRA, all that stuff.

Look, all I'm saying is this:

They had a lot of money,
and Conlon went back to Belfast.

- Come along, into the car.
- What the fuck is going on?

That was a bloody disgrace,
them shooting you.

- Aye.
- Did it hurt you, Danny?

It wasn't too bad. The bullet bounced
off the kneecap and out the other side.

Five people are dead...

and 75 seriously injured
as a result of the IRA 's....

no-warning bomb attack
on a Guildford pub.

Parliament has passed
the Prevention of Terrorism Act...

which allows terrorist suspects to be
held by police for up to seven days.

Seven days. Geez.

It's the same here.
Seven days. No difference.

...around London
and arrested 19 suspects.

Gerry, there's your shoes.

Our reporter spoke to Commander Robert
Dixon of the antiterrorist squad...

about those arrests.

We can't pretend
people won't be inconvenienced.

Some of them may not deserve it.

That's why we shall use these powers
as selectively as possible.

Get up out of bed,
you dirty, murdering bastard!

Hands above your head!

I don't know what the fuck youse are
looking for, mister, but I'm not it.

Gerry, your coat.
He's done nothing.

- Inside, sir.
- He's not political.

I have a right to speak to my son.

Keep calm, Gerry.

Get back in.
Get back inside.

It's all right.
It's all right.

- Where are we going?
- You'll find out soon enough.

- Where'd he get this money?
- I don't know.

They have no right
to take him to England.

Slow down a bit.

Look, I don't have a fucking clue
what this is about.

I've done nothing wrong.

When can I go back to Belfast?

Next time you see Belfast, they'll be
flying day trips to the moon.

I always wanted
to be an astronaut.

What are you charging me with?

You're being held
under the Prevention of Terrorism Act.

What?

We can hold you for seven days
and seven nights without charging you.

- When was I a fucking terrorist?
- Were you part of that, Gerry?

And that.
You proud of that?

- And that.
- Why are you showing me these people?

No marks!
Don't mark him! Don't mark him!

Are you fucking proud of that?

Look at that young,
pretty girl there!

- Now look at her!
- You're out of your fucking minds!

- Do you?
- You're out of your fucking minds!

The children know there's
something terrible going on.

- And you're not making it easier.
- I haven't the strength for this.

If he killed innocent people,
I haven't the strength for it.

Listen, I know that child.
I carried that child.

If you're not gonna
believe in him, I will.

You think he's innocent?

When your son walked through that door
looking like a bloody circus clown...

do you think he had murder
in his eyes?

Happy birthday to you

- It's a surprise.
- Shut up. Shut up!

When will Daddy be back?

He'll be back
in a couple of days.

Why did they put
Gerry in jail?

It's a mistake.

I'm on my way over
to bring him back home.

Why are you getting
narky again?

Are we touching a sore spot?

Name all the places you stayed
while you were in England.

I told you about 100 times.

Then tell us again!

I stayed at the squat
most of the time.

I was a couple of nights
at my Auntie Annie's...

and one night at the hotel
after I robbed the money.

Male. Late forties.

Who taught you
how to make the bomb, Gerry?

I never made any bombs.

Did Annie make the bomb,
Gerry?

Is Annie Marian, Gerry?

Is Annie Marian?

- Annie who?
- Annie Maguire!

My Aunt Annie?

Oh, aye, Annie made the bomb,
and Mother Teresa planted it.

What was Carole Richardson's
part in this operation?

Are you Marian?

What?

Are you Marian?

She had nothing
to do with it.

This man comes into my house.
He puts a gun to my head.

He says I done Guildford.

I left Belfast to get away
from people like him.

Show me what you want me to sign.
I have an alibi for that night.

What are you showing me
these for?

Gerry told us you did it.

Then he's a fucking liar.

Armstrong drove the car.
Who was the woman in the back?

I don't know.

But you were
in the Ford Cortina.

But you were
in the red Ford Cortina.

He'll get used to your methods,
and then he'll clam up.

I told you I was in the Cortina.
I told you it was a taxi.

No. The taxi was
a Toyota Corolla.

When can I ring home?

- Let's start again. Who's Marian?
- Was it someone Irish?

Why are you getting narky again?
Touching a sore spot? What was her name?

- Nothing to do with what, Gerry?
- Talk to me.

You're evading the truth, Gerry.
What was her name?

Two little girls asked me,
"Why was Daddy blown up?"

Who taught you how
to make the bomb, Gerry?

Talk to me.

He'll do what he's told.

Look at him.
He's a lying bastard.

He's a right fucking comedian.
Aren't you, Gerry?

- Who's Marian?
- I don't know what--

I'm getting fucking bored with this.
Who is Marian?

I'm gonna keep on asking until
you give me a fucking answer!

- Who is Marian?
- I don't know!

Yes, you fucking do!
Bollocks! Who is Marian?

We know who Marian is.

- Are you the man in charge?
- Yes, I am.

For fuck's sake,
tell 'em to stop hurting me.

I swear to God...

I know where I was
at the time of the bombings.

I was with a madman
called Charlie Burke.

Have you any other alibis?

I have told youse before...

I was with Paul Hill
most of the day.

Tell Gerry Conlon
like you said you would.

- Who's this?
- Gerry Conlon.

Have you anything
to say to him?

I've cleared my conscience.

I advise you to do the same.

There's your statement.

I didn't do this.

I didn't fucking do this!

Please believe me.

What are you doing to me?

They wouldn't hold him
if he hadn't done something.

- Gerry is no angel.
- I know that.

He needs a strong hand.

You're all under arrest.

- No, no, don't. Don't hurt the child!
- Put your hands up!

You're all being held under
the Prevention of Terrorism Act.

- Is Hill leading us up the garden path?
- I don't know.

I can make him confess.

Why don't you have
a word in his ear?

You're from the same town.
He'll understand you.

Will you have the bomber?

Our job is
to stop the bombing.

I'm gonna shoot your da.

What did you say to me?

Little Bridie'll
have no daddy.

I'm gonna shoot Giuseppe.

He's threatening to shoot my da!

He's threatening to kill my da!

Look at him!
Look at him!

He's a madman!

I think you're hallucinating.
Nobody's gonna harm your father.

Get him back.
Get him back.

He threatened to kill my da.

Nobody's gonna kill your father.

- You mad bastard!
- Take it easy, son. Take it easy.

He's not gonna harm your father.

Come on, let it all out.

Let it all out--
all that hatred.

You hate us, don't you?

You hate us enough
to bomb and maim.

That is the trouble.
You let it all out. Come on.

- I don't hate you.
- Yes, you do.

I can see it in your face.
I can see all that hatred.

So why don't you just
let it off your chest...

before it starts to mess up
with your mind?

Give me the fucking statement.

For fuck's sake,
give me the statement.

Give me a fucking pen.

Right, that's my fucking name there.
You can write what you like.

All right, nice and easy.
Come on.

- Paul! What's going on?
- Gerry!

They stuck a fucking gun
in my mouth!

So I told 'em
a lot of bullshit!

- Why did you give 'em my fucking name?
- I'm sorry!

It's fucking mad!
It'll be laughed out of fucking court!

It'll be laughed
out of fucking court!

The four of us were split up.

I was taken to
South London Remand Centre.

You can check the dates, Gareth.

Kill that fucker!

You fucking son
of an Irish cow!

Kick that Irish fucking ass!

- What is that?
- Delousing.

I don't have fucking lice.
I don't want that.

You have no choice, mate.

You'll never clean the scum
off that--

Okay, Conlon.
Go see the room, shall we?

Come on, Mr Conlon.

We got your son.

Let's go.

Da!

Is that you, son?

- Da, here!
- Where are you?

Don't harm my father.
Don't harm my father!

- Are you all right, son?
- Don't kill him!

Come on, move along.
Move along. Come on, you.

- Fuck you!
- Shut up, you!

- Shut up!
- On the floor!

You look fucking brave now.

What the fuck
are you doing here, Da?

I come over to your Aunt Annie's
to get you a lawyer.

They arrested everybody
in the house.

What?

- What for, fuck's sake?
- Conspiracy to murder.

Oh, no.
Oh, fuck's sake, no. Geez.

Did you do it?
Did you do it, son?

No, I did not!

Of course I fucking
didn't do it, fuck's sake!

- Why are you looking at me like that?
- What?

- Why are you looking at me like that?
- Like what?

Why do you always follow me?

Why do you always follow me
when I do something wrong?

Why can't you follow me
when I do something right?

- What are you talking about?
- What am I talking about?

- I'm talking about the medal.
- What medal?

What fucking medal?
What fucking medal?

The only fucking medal that was ever
in our house. That fucking medal.

The medal I won at football.

And you sat on the sidelines
shouting instructions...

like you could only see
what I was doing--

you couldn't even
fucking play football--

and you could only see
what I was doing wrong.

I could never do anything
good enough for you.

And after the game,
you came up to me and said...

"Gerry, did you foul the ball?"

And I walked away from you, remember?
I walked away into the dressing room.

You followed me in there and said again,
"Gerry, did you foul the ball?"

All the other fathers were in there
laughing at you...

calling you "Poor Giuseppe."

And I ran out, and I hid,
and I wrote your name on the ground--

your stupid Giuseppe fucking name--

I wrote it in the dirt,
and I fucking pissed on it!

I pissed on it...

because I did foul the ball.

What did it matter? We won.
For once in our lives, we won.

You ruined that medal for me! I took it
to the pawn, and they laughed at me.

- They wouldn't give me 50 pence for it.
- This is shock.

And that's when I started to rob,
to prove that I was no good.

- Delayed shock.
- Never mind delayed shock.

I've been like this
since I was seven.

I remember Mammy said to me,
"Don't upset Giuseppe. He's not well."

Oh, dear Lord, he's not well.
So we'd tiptoe around the house.

Like this, tiptoeing around the house.
"Not well, you know. He's not well."

Then I got Holy Communion.
I thought I was eating you alive.

Is it my fault you weren't well?

Why did you have to be sick
all your life, Giuseppe?

What'd you have to be sick
all your life for?

When that mad bastard out there
threatened to shoot you, I was happy.

I swear to God.
Honest to God, I was happy.

I was delighted! You know why?
Because finally it was all over.

It was over!
You see?

And then I knew I was bad.

I knew I was bad then, you see,
so I started to cry.

I started to tell lies--
the same fucking lies...

I've been telling
all my gobshite fucking life.

- That means words don't mean nothing.
- Stop this.

Only this time,
I got everyone into trouble.

But it doesn't matter, 'cause I'm
no good anyhow. It doesn't matter.

Keep away from me. You've been
following me all your life.

- Are you here deliberately?
- No. Stop it.

You call that a fucking dig, huh?

Do you call that a fucking dig?
Hit me harder. Hit me fucking harder!

- Stop it. Calm down.
- For once in your fucking life!

- Hit me like a real father!
-Just calm down. Stop it.

Just relax.

Try to relax.

It's okay.

It's not your fault,
son, all right?

Everything's gonna be
all right.

Okay.
All right, son.

Visitor for Conlon!

Two on for visit!

No touching.

- Everybody else was allowed to touch.
- IRA, closed visits. No contact.

Why are you doing this to us?

You have your father
locked up in prison for murder.

Speak up, please.

- It's not my fault, Ma.
- Take it easy, Sarah.

I swear to God,
I've done nothing wrong.

Why did you sign
a confession, son?

He did it
to protect me, love.

You have a good son there.
That's all you need to know.

You didn't sign anything
yourself, did you, Giuseppe?

The only thing I said
was I wanted to see you.

Look, they've no statement
nor evidence against me.

I'll be out and home soon.
Sure I'm only visiting here myself.

I'll be able to help out
Gerry while I'm in here.

Danny's dead, Gerry.

What?

They found his body
on waste ground.

The IRA said he was
an incurable thief.

I sent a Mass card
from the family.

This one'll not go to school
since you've been away.

Hey, you go to school
for your mammy.

Yes, Daddy.

Daddy, when will you be home?

I've pressed your Sunday suits
for the trial.

You make sure
and look your best now, son.

But is there nitro
or was there not nitro?

Yes, there are
traces of nitro.

But are they all positive?

Well, yes, on six of them.

- Who'd we miss?
- The aunt, Aggie-- Annie.

But her rubber glove
showed a faint trace.

And the children?

Positive.

The results may not
be good enough for court.

Your word will be
good enough for the court.

Yes, sir.

Kill the bastards!
Kill 'em!

Shoot the bastards!

Call number one.

- Let's go.
-Jesus, it's a nightmare, Giuseppe.

Just stay calm, be on your best
behaviour, and this'll be behind us soon.

That's it, come on.

It'll be all right.

All rise.

Sir Michael Hagerty will present
the case on behalf of the Crown.

There are two series of charges here,
ladies and gentlemen.

The four defendants in front...

are charged with 11 counts in relation
to the explosion of the Guildford pub...

and the murders of five people.

The Crown will show
that these were the bombers.

The seven defendants behind...

are charged with the possession
of explosives, not charged with murder.

The Crown's case
against them is...

that they are a support network
for the bombers, and as such...

- should be considered independent.
- Control yourself. Pay attention.

My first witness is
Inspector Robert Dixon.

I swear by Almighty God that the
evidence I give shall be the truth...

the whole truth
and nothing but the truth.

Inspector, why do you believe
these four are the bombers?

First Hill, then Conlon,
Armstrong, Richardson...

confessed to the bombing.

They are the IRA's ASU.

Can you explain ASUs for us?

Active Service Unit.
They are the elite of the IRA...

who carry out
the bombings and the shootings.

Often they are combat veterans with
experience of shooting at soldiers...

and planting explosives.

And the others--
Annie Maguire and her family?

They are the IRA's support network.

Their families and friends store
the weapons and explosives...

and they provide
what we call "safe houses."

Thank you, Inspector.

These people were arrested
two days...

after the Prevention
of Terrorism Act was introduced.

That's correct.

Can you explain, please, the powers
that this gives to the police?

It permits us to hold
suspected terrorists...

for a period of up to seven days.

Quite extraordinary powers
in a democracy.

Quite difficult, I would think for
the police to resist the temptation...

- to deal forcibly with people.
- Objection.

People they suspect of the biggest
bombing campaign on British mainland...

- since the Second World War.
- Objection. My lord, I really must--

- Get to the point!
- Now, this bombing campaign...

struck deep into the British people's
sense of security.

The people looked to you,
Inspector, to find those responsible.

Yes.

You must have been under
the most intense pressure.

That's my job.

Now, all of the defendants claim--

including young Patrick Maguire,
aged just 14--

Patrick,
would you stand up, please?

Thank you.
All of the defendants claim...

that they were subjected to physical and
mental abuse while in police custody.

They were never harmed
in any way.

He's fucking lying!
They beat the shite out of us!

Silence!

Please believe us!
They beat us!

Just be quiet.

Sit them down!

Silence in the court!

Mr Conlon says...

that you pulled him by the hair
and squeezed his testicles.

I never even spoke to Mr Conlon.

I hope you burn in hell, Dixon.

Silence!

Mr Hill says the police sat astride him
and put a gun in his mouth.

There was no pressure of any kind.

You can go and fuck yourself,
you lying fucking bastard!

Order! Order in court!

Inspector, in the case
of the four main defendants...

you have no corroborating evidence
of any kind.

I have the confessions of four obvious
terrorists. What more do you want?

Well, nitroglycerine
is a highly toxic substance.

It's when the substance
to be tested--

After a few weeks,
we were bored out of our minds--

just messed around
and that there.

They must've been
desperate for evidence.

They produced Annie's washing-up gloves
like a rabbit out of a hat at one point.

Then it was my turn
to take the stand.

Mr Conlon,
did you bomb Guildford?

No, I didn't.

The police claim that you were in
Guildford on the night of the bombing.

Can you tell us where you were?

I was in a park in London
at that time.

- Who with?
- With Paul Hill sitting there.

You met somebody else that night,
about 8:00 p.m.

- Aye, I met a man called Charlie Burke.
- And who is he?

He was just a fellow,
a homeless guy that we met in the park.

Why do you remember
this man so clearly?

I was thinking that if I didn't get out
of London fast, I would end up like him.

- You told this to the police?
- Aye.

- What did they say?
- They said he didn't exist.

Mr Conlon, why did you confess
to the Guildford bombing?

They beat me...

and then they threatened
to kill my father.

- Will you repeat that please?
- They terrorized me for seven days.

After that,
they threatened to kill my father.

I'd have fucking signed anything
after that.

- Excuse my language.
- Thank you.

You expect this jury to believe
that decorated police officers...

would risk their career
and their reputation...

by threatening your father?

I don't expect them to believe it
by the time you finish with them...

but it happens to be truth.

You're an honest man,
aren't you, Mr Conlon?

I like to think so.

You've told us you remember
this Charlie Burke very well.

Aye.

Do you remember telling the police
anything else about that night?

Let me refresh your memory.
You told Inspector Dixon...

that you had committed
a robbery on that night.

Now do you remember?

Aye.

- Who did you rob?
- Robbed a hooker.

- You robbed a prostitute?
- Aye.

And we are expected to believe a man
who claims he stole from a prostitute...

before we would believe ten police
officers who stood here on oath...

and called you a liar?

That was the truth.

I'm bound to say I don't find
you very convincing.

Thank you, Mr Conlon.

Why didn't you tell me
that you'd stole from that woman?

You should've called me.
I would've sent the money.

Are you gonna be a thief
and a liar all your life?

Standing up in that witness box,
making faces to your mates.

At least you told the truth
in there. That'll stand you.

Are you not going
to eat that sausage?

They put a gun in my mouth...

and made me confess
to a murder I didn't commit.

So I said I did the big bombing...

and named anybody I knew
who was not in the IRA.

Not in the IRA?

- Definitely not in the IRA.
- Why?

You know why.

I just wanted to show
how ridiculous it all was.

Inspector, the defendant Conlon
presented an alibi--

One Charlie Burke.

That name did appear in Mr Conlon's
statement. We investigated it.

We couldn't find any trace
of such a person.

And there was this question
of the robbery of a prostitute.

No robberies were reported
in that area that night.

At the start of this trial,
I shook Gerry Conlon's hand.

Subsequently, I was deeply shocked
when a fellow attorney came to me...

and asked me if I was now
going to wash my hand.

In my long legal career,
I cannot remember a case...

where emotions have
been so charged.

It falls to me now
to appeal to you...

the members of the jury,
not to get caught up in this...

tide of mass hysteria.

Inspector Dixon admits there are scores
of inconsistencies in the confessions.

My clients contend that
they were forced to confess...

through brutality
and intimidation.

Now, they may be foolish...

petty thieves,
even drug abusers...

but they are not the ruthless bombers
who have terrorized Britain for months.

You should find these young people
not guilty.

- Bollocks!
- Okay, let's go.

- Get your fucking hands off me!
- Move it!

- Move it!
- Hands off!

Ladies and gentlemen...

like my learned colleague
in the defence...

I would caution you not
to be swayed by your emotions.

The four people
you see in the front...

are one of the most cunning and
cruel criminal conspiracies...

ever to set foot on English soil.

Now, here are the facts
of this case:

Inspector Dixon...

a decorated officer
of great expertise...

acting on reliable information
and good detective work...

arrested Paul Hill...

who, guilt-ridden by the shame
of his crime, confessed.

That confession led the police
to the ringleader, Conlon...

and his terrorist family--

his aunt, Annie Maguire,
the experienced bomb maker...

who wore rubber gloves
when handling explosives...

in the kitchen
of her home in Harlesden.

She even allowed her children
to handle explosives--

Vincent, aged 16,
Patrick, 14--

who did not-- could not--
know any better.

Giuseppe Conlon,
her brother-in-law...

the courier who arrived
with more explosives.

Armstrong and his dupe
Richardson, who carried the bomb.

Now, these are the people who,
in a panic...

had to dispose
of the nitroglycerine...

and that is what sealed
their fate.

How do we know this?
Because the truth was on their hands.

It is a story written
in the blood of their victims.

You have seen some of those
who survived...

their callous disregard
for human life.

It is now your duty
to protect society from them.

I am confident that
that is what you will do.

Have you reached a verdict?

Yes, we have, my lord.

- How do you find the defendants?
- Guilty as charged.

Hang the Irie bastards!

Order! Silence!

String 'em up!

Gerard Patrick Conlon.

Stand up.

I feel it is my duty
to wonder aloud...

why you were not charged
with treason to the Crown...

a charge that carries a penalty
of death by hanging--

a sentence I would have had
no difficulty in passing...

in this case.

I sentence you
to life imprisonment...

and I instruct
that you shall serve...

a minimum of 30 years.

Take him down.

Help me.

Paul Michael Hill.

In my view, your crime
is such that...

life shall mean life.

Annie Maguire,
I recommend you serve 14 years!

- What have I done, for Christ's sake?
- Take her down!

- Giuseppe Conlon, 12 years.
- No, my husband's innocent!

Lord have mercy on you!

Patrick Joseph Armstrong,
30 years.

Carole Richardson,
30 years.

Our case was so insane that if you
made it up, nobody would believe it.

Look, Gareth, I know people say
that I'm a compulsive storyteller...

and nobody believed
a word I said in court...

but Charlie Burke did exist-- he's not
just a figment of my imagination.

Sorry.

We were shipped off
to Park Royal Prison...

an old Victorian fortress where the
most dangerous criminals were held...

in the maximum-security wing.

- Place of birth.
- Belfast.

Then you're British.

This is your home
for the rest of your life.

So accept it and get on with it.
Right, come this way.

The chief warder, Barker...

gave us blue denim uniforms
with yellow stripes.

We were Category A--

the highest-security class along
with the rapists and murderers.

My father said
we'd fight for an appeal...

but I didn't want to know
about the legal system.

- I'm going back to the cell.
- Come on. Follow me.

Come on, Gerry.

Hey, Ronnie.
There's those Irish bastards, Ronnie.

Irish scum.

My name's Giuseppe Conlon.
I'm an innocent man.

So is my son.

We shouldn't even be in here.

Get that fucking scum
off my floor.

I said, knock it off!

- They must know they've made a mistake.
- No, they don't.

The proof of our innocence
must be there in the evidence.

We have to fight 'em
to get an appeal.

- I'll speak to Father Wilson.
- Speak to everybody.

We'll write letters from in here.
Start a campaign.

Have they been
treating you all right?

Aye, fine. Fine.

Have they, son?

Aye. No problem.

Landing officers, exercise.

Forgot the dessert spoons.

There we go.

These chips are not bad.

- Now don't you despair, son.
- Never mind about "don't despair."

What?

I mean, we're innocent,
we can't even go out of the cell.

You're better off being guilty.
At least you get some respect.

Landing officers
on the threes for exercise.

You can have my chips.

Gerry, man.

Problem? You all right?

How you like your new home?

Bombing of pillar-box,
Kensington High Street.

Bombing of pillar-box,
Talbot Lodge.

Bombing of naval club.

Bombing of Aldershot Railway Station.
Attempted murder of Edward Heath.

Murder of Ross McWhirter.

Possession of firearms,
Balcombe Street, December 6, 1975.

And the Guildford pub bombings.

You have innocent people
in jail for that.

Take him out.

He did it.

Where's all the missing pieces?

We eat it up, man.

Before my woman
send it in here, right...

she have it dipped
in liquid acid--

LSD, man.

We've been dropping the British Empire
for the last six months.

You want to fly?
Pick a country.

Fuck's sake, don't give me Northern
Ireland. I don't want a bad trip.

Try Nepal, man.
Take you to the Himalayas.

See the dragon.

Lights out in 15 minutes.
15 minutes.

Are you praying
for the Seventh Cavalry?

Hail Mary, full of grace,
the Lord is with thee.

Blessed art thou amongst women, and
blessed is the fruit of thy womb,Jesus.

Holy Mary, mother of God,
pray for us sinners...

now and at the moment of our death.
Amen.

That's not funny, Gerry.

Hail Mary, full of grace,
the Lord is with thee.

Blessed art thou among women...

and blessed is the fruit
of thy womb,Jesus.

Holy Mary, mother of God...

pray for us sinners, now and
at the hour of our death. Amen.

Are you on drugs?

Look, Da, I'll be older than you are
now when I get out of this place.

If I get out.

- Are you listening to me?
- I'm not talking to you.

Now who's being childish?

I haven't had a sensible word
out of you for two weeks.

That stuff'll kill you.

Sure I'm dead anyway.

Look, I'm sorry. I'll not
take it again so long as you live.

Are you happy now?

No.

Why not?

I don't want you to take it
whether I live or die.

Jesus Christ.

All right. I'll do nothing
to annoy you in your grave.

Now are you happy?

Is that a promise?

Aye.

Maybe.

Gerry, man,
check out your friend.

He look like the real thing.

Come on.

- Excuse me.
- All right.

Let's have a talk.

We have to eat in the cells.

See ya later.

Gerry, come on.

Morning, paddy.

Yes!

Come on!

Yes, man, Gerry!

This one, this one, this one,
14 days solitary! Lock up!

Lock up!

He'll be all right.
He'll be back in a couple of days.

I'm worried about Bridie.

Why?

She's dyed her hair blonde.

Well, she's only young.

She's wearing a dog collar.

There's a fella chained to it.
He's got one on too.

Well...

as long as she's happy.

Lunch break.

Yes, Gerry, man!
That's right!

Gerry's a bad boy!

Put the Englishman
under heavy, heavy manners.

Yes, sir. Go on, boy.
Kick out them clods, yes?

This is Joe McAndrew.
He has something important to tell you.

Hello, Mr Conlon.

I'm watching you.

What is it?

I'm the one who planted
the Guildford bomb, Mr Conlon.

Did you tell the police that?

Yes, I did.

- But we haven't heard a thing.
- See what he has to say, Da.

Go on.

I told them.
They know the truth.

They can't afford to face it.

It's a war.
You're one if its innocent victims.

I'm sorry for your trouble.

Don't be sorry for us.

You should be sorry
for the people you killed.

It was a military target,
a soldier's pub.

They were innocent people,
God's children.

Look, I'll do all I can
to help you while you're in here.

We don't need your help.

I'd appreciate it
if you'd leave us alone.

Whatever you say.

I'm sorry about that.

What was that all about?
You mind your fucking manners.

What? Manners to him? I don't want
any part of him, or his ways.

At least he fights back, which is
more than you ever did in your life.

- What are you talking about?
- Do you remember Lydon Hill?

You used to ride me up
on your bike up Lydon Hill.

And then one day
you couldn't make it to the top...

and I hopped off and looked back,
and your face was all red.

- Remember that?
- Aye.

It was working in the paint shed
done that to you.

What?

It was the fumes from working
in the paint shed done that to you.

Never mind jumping off the ferry,
swimming back to Mammy.

It was the one job a Catholic can get,
and you wouldn't even fight back then.

Go on outside.
Play with your newfound friend.

All I'm saying is that you've been
a victim. It's time you fought back.

- Get out of my sight.
- I'm going.

This is the only way it'll work.
We have no alternative.

- Well, what are you doing?
- Nothing.

- They didn't do it.
- They all did it.

I'm going back to Belfast.

After the fight, nobody stopped us
going out in the yard to exercise.

I felt brilliant.
Joe explained things to me.

He explained how the Brits
never left anywhere without a fight...

how they had to be beaten out of
every country they ever occupied...

how this prison was just
an extension of their system.

Calling for work
on the threes.

We had to confront the chief
prison officer, Barker.

Mr Smalls.

But to do that,
we had to take care of Ronnie Smalls.

Can I have a word
about 54 Halsley Road?

Take a walk.

If anything happens to me
or Gerry...

or any other Irish prisoner...

we'll have 54 Halsley Road
blown to smithereens...

with your family in it.

Threaten my family
and I'll cut your fucking head off.

I don't make threats.

I just carry out orders.
I don't want to hurt your family.

Your trouble is,Joe,
you want to rule the fucking world.

Paddy's all right.

Soon, we were all
one happy family.

Again!

Even Kojak was ready to forgive.

- Live and let live.
- Barker began to panic.

He told us to take our socks
out of the window.

He thought we were signalling
to other prisoners.

We're not signalling.
We're drying our socks out.

- Take the socks out of the window.
- Who says?

Mr Barker.

- That was all the excuseJoe needed.
- Give us two minutes.

- Up and away we went.
- Are you with me?

What's he up to now?

All prison officers
to vacate the wing.

All officers
vacate the wing!

This'll damage the whole campaign.

Look, you do it your way,
and we'll do it ours, all right?

- You can read our demands.
- Go back to your cells.

Blankets!

- For God's sake, put a stop to this.
- You're weakening my position.

- It will end in violence.
- Good.

- What's good about it?
- It's all they understand.

Barker refused to negotiate.

But with the screws gone,
we'd a brief taste of freedom.

Check out Ronnie!

Him swallow half Africa.

I give him about an hour.

We found out later
our protest got on TV.

And that's when
the riot squad was ordered in.

We were singled out
as the ringleaders.

Now!

You just signed
your own death warrant, Barker.

Are you happy now?

And then you arrived, Gareth.

That's the first time I saw you,
under a raining shower of sparks.

It was the first time I'd seen a woman
in five years, other than my mother.

But to me, you were a lawyer first.
And I hated lawyers.

- Do you have a new isolation--
- Prisoners: Barth, Andrew.

Bailey, Benjamin.
McAndrew,Joseph.

- Sorry. Can you-- I can't hear.
- Conlon, Gerard.

O'Brien,John.

Lynch, Bernard.
Crisp, Quincy.

Lyon, Richard.
Burns, Delrow.

What about Conlon?
Sorry. Giuseppe Conlon.

He's on the third floor.

He has difficulty
getting down the stairs.

Well, I'll just have to
go up and see him then.

- The delegation has seen enough.
- Right-o. Sorry.

Well, I won't be a minute. I'll just--
Is that all right? Sorry.

I'll meet you outside, okay?
Sorry.

Sorry, I can't--

Pulmonary thrombosis.

- And he's getting proper medication?
- Aye.

Son?

That's-- Is it Gerry?

That's Gerry.

He's had a spot of bother
with lawyers in the past.

He's all yours.
Fifteen minutes.

- Thank you.
- Sit down.

You wanted to see me, Gerry?

Why are you giving
my father false hope?

Sorry?

He's been up and down
these stairs to see you.

He hasn't even seen
my mother in six months.

I hear you're getting on
very well with her, by the way.

Yes. She's a very brave woman.

You don't know the half of it.

The fucking stairs are killing him.

It's not the stairs that
are killing your father.

- What is it, then?
- It's your lack of faith.

Lack of faith?
Faith in what?

In yourself.

No, I have faith in myself.

Gerry Conlon, lifer,
30-year sentence.

And I know how to survive it.

At what price?

I'll pay the fucking price.
Don't you worry about it.

The price for what?

You're very good at the English,
aren't you?

You see, I don't understand
your language.

"Justice." "Mercy." "Clemency."

I literally don't understand
what those words mean.

I'd like to put in an application
to get all my teeth extracted.

That way I could put my fist in my mouth
and never speak another word of English.

Do you see what I'm saying?
Mrs Peirce, is it?

Are you trying to impress me?

Visit's up.

Don't give my father
false hope, all right?

You've got to help him!

In prison, you pray for anything
to break the monotony.

A snowstorm is like
a present from God.

Prison officers are not to be hit!

You've asked for it.

Come along!

After the riot, my father's
health deteriorated badly.

He couldn't make it down
the stairs to enjoy the snow.

I waved up to him, but he
was looking at something else.

My da always saw the good
in people.

He recognized it in you
the minute he saw you, Gareth.

Guv, guv, where you going?
Where's me letters? Guv'nor!

Thank you.

I see you've been mentioned
in Congress, Giuseppe.

What's that?

How'd you come by that name?

An Italian ice cream maker.

Had a shop on the corner
of the street where I was born.

Giuseppe Fusco.

My mother fell in love
with the name.

Were they--

- You know.
- What?

- Lovers.
- Who?

My mother and the ice cream maker?

Oh, no, God.

Jesus, no.
No, they were not.

No, she just liked the name.

But it made my life hell.

All the other children laughing at you.
You have any kids yourself?

He's talking to Barker.

Forget it. He can talk
to whoever he fucking likes.

Two.

Flown the nest now.

Whether Barker was
responsible or not...

for bringing in the riot squad,
Joe never forgave him.

Joe was still at war...

and to him,
Barker was the enemy.

Number?

The name is McAndrew.

Get out.
Get out of the light!

- Get out of the light.
- Number?

Name's Gerry Conlon.

Piss off out of the light.
Get out of the light!

You're 136.

There's someone sitting there.

Move when you're told.

Put it out.

- How's your boy?
- He's good.

You know, he looks
more like you every day.

He's smarter than I am.

Three years old,
he can read the funny papers.

There's a hair
in the fucking projector!

Yeah, get the fucking hair
out the projector, will you?

- Come on. Get it out!
- Get it out!

We're going fucking blind up here.

Lively.

- We'll get there, Pop.
- Quiet.

- I didn't say a fucking thing.
- You're blocking.

Shut it.

Now, listen.
Whoever comes to you...

with this Barzini meeting--

I knew that Santino was gonna
have to go through all this.

And Fredo, well--

Fredo was wrong.

And I never wanted this for you.

For you!

To the floor, mate! Get down!

Come on, mate, get a blanket!
For God's sake, he's burning!

Barker! Move back, Barker!

Get in there!

Get it out!

- Stretcher!
- Let's check it out.

All right, mate.
You're with us.

All right. Stretcher!

Gently.

All right, up!

That was a good day's work,
McAndrew.

That was a good day's work.

Get away from me.

Will you not look me in the eye
when I'm speaking to you?

I know how to look at people
without blinking as well.

In all my godforsaken life,
I've never known...

what it was like to want
to kill somebody until now.

You're a brave man,Joe,
a brave man.

Gerard Conlon, back on the threes.

- Stand your ground.
- Hawkins, returning to his cell.

Benjamin Bailey, back to him cell!

Burns, returning to his cell.

7445, Casey, back to his cell.

6309, Johnston, level three.

Regis, 113,
going up to number two.

- Back to your cell now!
- Keep moving.

Barker was maimed for life...

and Joe was sent
to another prison.

He's in solitary confinement
somewhere.

We've had no news of him
since then.

The new chief screw
had the yard painted...

and I was back
walking in circles again.

Back to the cells.

Come on. Move.

I'd like to help you out
with the campaign, Da...

if that's all right with you.

Do you mean it?

Aye.

That's great.

What I need from you is
the whole story, your whole story...

in as much detail
as you can remember.

And I need you to write it down.
It's really important.

I can't do this.

I can't write this, Da.

Could your son
not give you a hand?

He's up in his cell writing away.

Tape recorder.

You're a good talker.

Talk.

The strange thing is--

the strange thing is sometimes
I think he's a littlejealous...

of me taking over the campaign
and that there.

Going up and down the stairs
to meet you.

That's something
I never thought about Giuseppe:

that he could bejealous.

Anyhow, the main thing is
to get the case reopened...

because I don't know how long
he can survive in here.

- I'm tired of this.
- Come on. We have to do this.

You behave yourself.

Get your head down.

When I was a wee lad, I used to wonder
what you were doing under the towel.

One day when you and Ma were out,
I got a big bowl of boiling water...

whacked a big drop of Vick
and put the towel over my head.

I sat there trying to figure out what it
was about 'cause nothing was happening.

I figured you
must've been drinking it.

So I stuck my tongue in it.
Do you remember that?

How could I forget?

And your tongue
swelled up like a football.

Had to rush you to the hospital.

First time you'd stopped
talking in your life.

Give us that.

I'll do your chest for you, Da.

Was I always bad, was I?

Not always.

I don't deserve to spend
the rest of my life in here, do I?

All they've done
is block out the light.

They can't block out
the light in here.

Listen.

Every night...

I take your mother's
hand in mine.

We go out the front door,
into Cyprus Street...

down to Falls Road,
up the Antrim Road...

to Cave Hill.

We look back down...

on poor, troubled Belfast.

I've been doing that every night...

for five years now.

As if I never left your mother.

What I remember most
about my childhood is...

holding your hand.

My wee hand in your big hand.

And the smell of tobacco.
I remember that...

I could smell the tobacco
off the palm of your hand.

When I want to feel happy, I try
to remember the smell of tobacco.

Hold my hand.

Get the fuck--

Don't go sentimental on me now.

Don't be upset, Da. Look,
I'll hold your hand if you like.

I'm going to die.

Don't be saying that.

I'm scared.

You've no reason to be scared.

Don't you be comforting me when I can
see the truth staring me in the face.

I'm scared I'm gonna die here
among strangers.

You're not fucking dying.

Can I not say a thing
without you fucking contradicting me?

I'm scared to leave
your mother behind.

Look, you are not going to die,
all right, Da?

Even if you do, sure I can
look after Ma all right.

You think I'd leave
Sarah in your care?

What do you mean?

You haven't the maturity to take care
of yourself, let alone your mother.

I haven't much time between
appointments, Mrs Peirce.

- How can I help you?
- Thank you.

I'm the solicitor for the Conlons,
Chief Inspector.

Giuseppe Conlon is critically ill,
as you may know.

I've petitioned before the court
for his compassionate parole.

They want your clearance.

That'll be difficult, Mrs Peirce.

These people have committed
horrific crimes.

Society demands
that they serve their time.

But they didn't do it,
Chief Inspector.

Says who?

Say the real bombers.

They told you they did it,
Mr Dixon.

Gerry Conlon told me he did it,
Mrs Peirce.

These people are liars.

They're liars for a cause.
That's the worst kind.

But he's dying.
Giuseppe's dying.

A lot of people are dying.
It's a dirty war.

Well, I'll see what I can do.

Is this your family, Mr Dixon?

That's my wife and my son.

You have another appointment.

Yes.

I'll see you again, Mr Dixon.

Are you all right, Da?

Are you all right?

Wake up, Da.

Can you hear me?
Can you hear me, Giuseppe?

Come on, dear God in heaven,
don't do this to me.

Come on. Wake up.

Wake up! Fuck's sake, come on!

There you go. Thank you.
You're all right, Da.

I'm going to get some help.

Number 73! Number 73!

Please come quickly!
My father's sick!

Benbay, Giuseppe's taken bad!

Put your arms around me.

I'm getting you out of bed.
Put your arms around me.

- Open the fucking door!
- He's number 73!

- Open the fucking door!
- Giuseppe!

Fuck, he can't breathe.
He can't fucking breathe!

He can't breathe!
Look, my father's fucking dying!

- He needs oxygen!
- Give him a fucking break!

Open the fucking gate!
I'm right here, Da.

Get him in here!

What the fuck is going on?

Hammersmith Hospital now.

I want to go with him.

I've got to get clearance first.
It's out of my hands.

You're gonna be all right, Da!

- I'll be with you as soon as I can.
- Take him back to his cell.

Leave him alone, you bastards!
Just let him be!

Stay strong, Gerry!
Stay strong, mate!

Keep your chin up, mate!

We're with you, Gerry!

We're with you all the way, mate!

He's still awake.

Your father passed away
an hour ago.

Thank you very much.

I'm sorry.

Giuseppe is dead, man!

They kill Giuseppe!

Gerry, man!

They killed Giuseppe!

Well, I think they ought to take
the word "compassion"...

out of the English dictionary.

They fouled the ball, Gareth.

They fouled the fucking ball,
and they're as guilty as sin.

Believe me, if there's one thing
I know about, it's guilt.

Keep looking 'em in the eye,
and it's gonna reveal itself.

You have to keep up the pressure.

Do what you have to do.

Free the Four!
Free the Four!

Those were meant to be here
three weeks ago.

"The Parade of Innocence."
What do you think?

Thousands of people
lined the streets of Dublin...

London and Liverpool today
in demonstrations...

demanding the release
of the Guildford Four.

- Questions have been raised--
- Say good night to Daddy.

- Good night, Dad.
- Good night, son.

Free the Four!
Free the Four!

This was a mistake.

Why don't we let her
see the files?

What harm could it do?

- Mr Dixon!
- Yes?

Don't you get tired of this?

This is a court order that I be allowed
to see the Giuseppe Conlon case files.

- Good morning.
- There are a few rules to be observed.

Here's a complete list of
the Conlon, Giuseppe case files...

the only files you'll need to see.

I'll go to the file drawer
and bring it out.

You take a page at a time,
read it and then return it.

Sorry. Is there a problem,
Mr Dixon?

Problem?
Not at all, Mrs Peirce.

Our chief archivist, Mr Jenkins,
is here to assist you.

If you want to make a photocopy,
I alone will do it.

Use this pen at all times
for any notes.

If you deface any document, we can
trace it through the ink in this pen.

There are national security issues
involved here, Mrs Peirce.

We wouldn't want
police intelligence files...

leaked to the IRA now, would we?

Conlon, Giuseppe file.

Yes, sir.

Leave my kit on the bus,
'cause I'm not staying in your jail.

So, our new VIP prisoner.

Welcome to Scotland.

I'm an innocent man.
My father was an innocent man.

He died in one of your jails.
There's nothing you can do to hurt me.

They've moved me to a Scottish
jail to break my confidence.

- Put him in solitary.
- This is a peaceful protest.

We'll teach you manners.

Better men than you
have tried that already.

I have not seen my client
for two months.

He's been moved to Scotland, which has
impeded my investigation into his case.

So I'm filing this motion
to gain proper access--

Free the Four!

Here, thanks a lot.
Good day.

Thanks, thanks, thanks.

Sorry. Could you copy that
for me, please?

Thank you.

I just want my mother to be happy.

I'd like her to know...

that Giuseppe talked about her
every day of his life.

He missed her terribly.

It's strange to be in a cell
without him.

I can't seem to get his face
out of my mind.

Everywhere I look, I see him.

Strange what time does
when you're in prison.

Like, you can be staring
at the wall.

Drip, drip, drip.

It takes an eternity.

And then you blink,
and three years have gone by.

I mean, what I'm trying to--

I don't know what the fuck
I'm trying to say.

But I can't forget
what they did to my family.

I just can't forget.

Morning.

- Where's Jenkins?
- He telephoned in sick.

I'm afraid you're going
to have to come back tomorrow.

I can't. I'm in court tomorrow.
There's too much to get through.

I can't help you.

Please. I've got the court order.

You saw what Mr Jenkins did.
He just brings me the files.

I take the notes and give them
back to you. Please.

- What name is it?
- Conlon.

- All right.
- Thanks. Thank you very much. Cheers.

What name was that again?

We've got two Conlon boxes.

Is it Giuseppe Conlon
or Gerard Conlon?

Gerard.

Well, that's for starters.

Fuck 'em!

It's good news.

We're talking about
a piece of evidence...

that says they knew all along,
that they let my father die in prison?

Would you mind telling me
what's good about that?

We'll get them in court.

"We'll get them in court"?
Will you catch yourself on?

They've kept us in prison for 15 years.
They can keep us in for another 15.

This is the fucking
government, Gareth!

It's the fucking government!
What are they gonna say?

"We're sorry about that"?

"Made a wee bit of a mistake,
but you can be on your way now"?

What are they gonna say?
"Sorry we killed your da"?

"Sorry we fucked
your fucking life to hell"?

I am not putting my mother
through hell again.

Are you afraid of court?

I just don't wanna be
humiliated again.

I swear by Almighty God...

that the evidence I shall give
shall be the truth, the whole truth...

and nothing but the truth.

Mr Dixon, do you know
these young people...

known as the Guildford Four?

Yes, I do.

Do you know how long
they have spent in jail?

Fifteen years.

Do you know Annie Maguire...

who served her 14 years
without remission?

Do you know her son Vincent
who served five years?

Her son Patrick who served four?
Do you know her husband...

Paddy Maguire, who served 12 years?

Carole Richardson was 17
when she went to jail, Mr Dixon.

Now she is 32.

Do you know Carole Richardson?

- What is the point of this?
- Yes, come to the point.

Do you know who this is, Mr Dixon?

No, I don't.

Well, then would you be so kind...

as to read this statement
that you took from him...

on the third of November, 1974?

A statement, My Lord, which
vindicates all of these people...

-all these innocent people.
-I need to see a copy of this statement.

Either that man or his superior
or his superior's superior...

ordered that these people
be used as scapegoats...

by a nation
that was baying for blood...

in return for the innocent blood
spilled on the streets of Guildford!

- You got your blood, Mr Dixon!
- She is making a political speech.

You got the blood of Giuseppe Conlon
and the lifeblood of Carole Richardson!

You got 15 years of blood and sweat
and pain from my client...

whose only crime
was that he was Irish...

and foolish, and he was in
the wrong place at the wrong time!

Mrs Peirce, I will have you
removed from the court.

And one of your colleagues,
My Lord...

who sat where you sit now said,
"It is a pity...

you were not charged
with treason to the Crown--

a charge that carries a penalty
of death by hanging--

a sentence I would have no difficulty
in passing in this case."

Mrs Peirce, I am trying
to read this document.

I will not tell you again
to be silent...

or you will be removed
from the court.

My Lord, this document...

brings the entire British
legal system into disrepute.

My Lord, this is new evidence.

It is shocking new evidence.

My Lord, this evidence...

was not submitted at the trial
that is under appeal.

That, I believe, is the point
Mrs Peirce is trying to make.

- Proceed, Mrs Peirce.
- My Lord, I demand a recess.

There will be no demands made
in my court.

Stand back.

This alibi for Gerry Conlon...

was taken by Mr Dixon...

one month after
Gerry Conlon was arrested.

This note was attached to it
when I found it in police files.

It reads, "Not to be shown
to the defence."

I have one question
to ask you, Mr Dixon:

Why was the alibi for Gerry Conlon...

who was charged with the murder
of five innocent people...

kept from the defence?

- Give us an answer!
- Answer the question!

Silence!

- It's about time!
- Order in the court!

My Lord, I would like
to approach the bench.

This is most irregular.

Yes. I am aware of that, My Lord.

Very well.

Mr Dixon, you may stand down.

This is the man
who should be under arrest!

Be silent, Mrs Peirce!

- This court is now in recess.
- Guards, get ready.

Don't try and make me
the fall guy...

for the whole
British legal establishment.

If I accept this mercy deal--

They have a flipping cheek,
offering me mercy.

They should be begging
for mercy themselves.

- You ready, Mr Conlon?
- Aye.

I know the difference
between right and wrong.

The truth has to come out.
They may not want to hear it...

but there's people outside
who'll listen.

-Just think about it, will you?
- All right.

Aye. Give us three of them.

Silence!

In the matter of Her Majesty...

versus Gerard Patrick Conlon...

the case is hereby dismissed.

My husband died in your prison
an innocent man!

I'm going out the front door.
I'll see you outside.

- This way.
- I'm going out the front door.

What about Giuseppe Conlon?

Your Honour,
he was an innocent man!

Mr Conlon, that's not a good idea.

Use the back,
for security reasons.

I'm a free man,
and I'm going out the front door.

In the matter of
Her Majesty versus Paul Hill...

the case is hereby dismissed.

Leave me alone!
I'm going out the front door with Gerry!

In the matter of
Her Majesty versus Patrick Armstrong...

the case is hereby dismissed.

In the matter of
Her Majesty versus Carole Richardson...

the case is hereby dismissed.

I'm an innocent man!

I spent 15 years in prison
for something I didn't do!

I watched my father die...

in a British prison
for something he didn't do!

And this government
still says he's guilty!

I want to tell them...

that until my father
is proved innocent...

until all the people involved
in this case are proved innocent...

until the guilty ones
are brought to justice...

I will fight on...

in the name of my father
and of the truth!