Right. So we're gonna tell stories.
Yeah? You all got a story.
Something from you, from your heart. OK?
Who's gonna go first?
Anyone? No?
- All right, you go first, miss. - Oh, God. I don't...
- Oh, go on, please. - All right.
Once upon a time there was a little girl,
and she lived with her mum and her dad and brother in a small town in Wales,
and she always dreamed of becoming a princess.
So when she grew up, she ran away to the big city
and she went to the princess college.
There is such a place.
And she worked really, really hard,
and all her dreams came true.
And she kissed a lot of frogs.
And, anyway, she woke up one day, and she realised that she wasn't very happy.
So she decided to go home, to teach.
- And what's the moral of the story? - Be careful what you wish for?
Yes. Yeah.
Being a princess sucks.
Right, come on, who's got a story? Davy, you've got a story.
OK, round two.
Let's start with artists that we love.
We're gonna make a list and then we're gonna narrow it down. So... Go on.
- David Bowie. - Bowie. What else?
- Pink Floyd. - Floyd.
Led Zep. Sabbath. Deep Purple. Rush.
- ELO. ELP. Uh... - Thank you, Hoople, that's enough.
Dena.
- The Ramones. - The Ramones.
- Iggy Pop. - Iggy P. Vicki?
- 10cc. - 10cc. Stella?
- Beach Boys. - Yeah. Kenny?
Slade.
I'm putting it down. Even if we cross it off.
Right, in this hall, the normal rules don't apply.
Everything out there doesn't count. Forget about it.
In here, you show up on time and you can do what you like.
You can explore what you like. Ideas, emotion, that's the idea.
'Cause I wanna put on a show
that William Shakespeare and David Bowie would be proud of.
And that you would be proud of,
most importantly.
Are you in? Yes?
- Yeah. - Yes?
- Yeah. Yes. - Yes? Kenny? Yes?
- Yes, miss. - Good. Excellent.
It's a god-awful small affair
To the girl with the mousy hair
But her mummy is yelling, "No"
And her daddy has told her to go
But her friend is nowhere to be seen
Where are the others?
- Where is everyone? - It's Friday.
- Well, Stella said she'd be here. - Well, she's not, is she?
- Miss, I've gotta go to training. - What?
- Rugby, miss. I got trials coming up. - Oh, can't you wait a bit longer?
- No, miss, I promised. - Right then, go. I need you on Monday.
What about me, miss? It's Friday, I got a date.
- That's very funny. - No, miss, it's not a joke.
Oh, come on, let's try it again. Let's try it again.
Now, I want you to make it very specific. And remember the quavers.
One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four.
It's a god-awful small affair
To the girl with the mousy hair
But her mummy is yelling, "No"
And her daddy has told her to go
- Miss Mae? - Mr Thornley.
- Rehearsing on a Friday? Very keen. - Two weeks to go.
- Beg your pardon? - Two weeks to go!
Oh, well. "Tempest fugit", I suppose.
Everything going all right, is it, generally?
- Yes, hunky-dory, Headmaster. I... - Very good. It's just that I've
had the odd complaint. Well, a small delegation, actually.
Um, issues of discipline came up and a concern about language.
Language? What...?
Excuse me.
- What fucking language? - Hello?
- Oh, shit. - Andy Dixon.
- Where are you going? - Band practice, miss.
- For the gig, Monday. - You're supposed to be
- at my rehearsals. - I weren't in the bit you were doing,
miss, I don't think. Anyway, I gotta go, the band are waiting for me.
Oh, right. Well, where's everyone else?
Down the lido, miss. It's Friday.
Keep the faith, miss.
"Down the lido, miss. It's Friday."
- Does anyone else want ice cream? - No, ta.
You're fucking...
Evan and Mandy James. Dena Davies. Vicki Munro.
- Stella Jones. - Oh, fuck.
This is a final warning. OK. Double rehearsals Monday.
Lunchtime and after school. I want you all there on time.
- Hi, Kenny. - Wanker.
Fucking wanker.
- Oi, oi! - Oi, oi, Macca. Where have you been?
Killing Pakis.
Oh, Kenny boy here's only gone and given in, in't he?
Going down Steady Eddie's fucking finally. Having a chop.
- Gonna be one of us, are you? Huh? - Yeah, I'm ready. Yeah.
- Yeah? Well, come on then. - Let's do it.
Martini. Cinzano.
Tia Maria. Anyone?
Anyone?
Oh, look at that.
Earth calling Tim. Come in, Tim. Tim?
- Someone's drunk everything. - I thought you were at rehearsals.
- So did I. - Yeah, well, it is Friday, you mad cow.
- You've had 'em at it all week. - Thank you, Tim.
- I thought you were on my side. - Oh, I am, believe me.
You should hear what the rest of them are saying.
- Oh, spare me the details. - Mine was shit, by the way.
- Thanks for asking. - Oh, sorry, love. How was your day?
Shit. Thanks for asking.
Oh... God, that Davy can sing, though.
Yeah, and such dreamy eyes.
I love it when you take an interest in my work.
I don't wanna sound like an alkie, but I got some gin stashed in my wardrobe.
Oh, gin. That's just the taste of disappointment, innit?
Well, why don't we do something different tonight?
Why don't you show me some of your old haunts?
Oh, they knocked most of them down.
Not so fast, man. You've gotta look for the bubbles.
I'm trying to. I'm trying to get it in.
Dad, there's no more clean shirts.
Well, your nan haven't been round, have she?
- Yeah, well, I'm going out tonight. - Look, spray some of that Brut on it.
- Always works. - Oh, yeah. Great.
- Mam would have washed one for me. - Anyway, you can be doing
your own laundry now.
Look, come here.
You gotta find the bubbles, see?
There, there she blows.
I thought you said mam would be coming home by now.
Hello. Swansea 6-5-2-7.
- Stella. It's Davy. - Oh, hi, Davy.
Hiya. What are you doing?
Nothing. What are you doing?
Nothing. Where were you this afternoon?
Went down to the lido to cool off.
You were supposed to be in rehearsals.
Yeah, on a Friday.
So, uh... you still wanna meet up tonight then?
- No. I... I can't. - Stella. Please?
Look, we said we were going to be friends.
Are you seeing someone else?
Stella?
Fuck.
- Have you heard from her? - Oh, don't start, Mam. Right?
You know I don't wanna talk about it, right?
- All right. OK. - See you Tuesday.
- All right. - Hi, Nan.
- Hiya, my old son, you all right? - All right?
- Ta-ra, love. - Ta-ra.
Hello, ladies.
- Beautiful night, innit? - It's all right.
It's more beautiful now I've seen you.
- Get a load of this! - Oi, oi, you fucking wankers!
Enjoy your fucking chips.
- All right, Kenny? - All right.
- Nice haircut. What are you doing? - Nothing much.
- What have you girls been doing? - Nothing...
All right, girls? Stella. Fancy a shag?
I don't think so.
- You slag. - What's on your shoulder, Kenny?
Idiots.
You wanna hear what Macca's been saying about you?
- I don't give a shit. - Everyone thinks you're a poof.
Fuck off, you dwarf.
What's he going on about now? Hmm?
Right, get the inner tube out. Careful of the valve.
- What are you going on about, Angus? - Him. Being in a musical.
- He's such a bummer, it's embarrassing. - You're embarrassing, more like.
Don't let him wind you up, son.
Your Uncle Neville used to love the dramatics.
Exactly.
Dad!
Anyway, I thought you were going out tonight?
He's been stood up, ain't he.
Our first stop is in Bogota
To check Colombian fields
The natives smile and pass along
A sample of their yield
Sweet Jamaican pipe dreams
Golden Acapulco nights Then Morocco and the East
Fly by morning light
We're on the train to Bangkok
Aboard the Thailand Express
- Thank you, Epitaph. - Thank you, Swansea!
Thank you, Munro, that's enough now.
- Mandy, your brother's a fucking poof. - Piss off.
...will present us with her Thought For The Day. Lorraine?
Silence!
Miss, I'm supposed to give you this, miss.
- What is it? - From my parents, miss.
- I'm not supposed to do the show. - What?
- Sorry. - You're Prospero.
- Syd, it's two weeks away. - I know, miss. Sorry.
The Shakespeare's a bit harder than the Bowie.
- Yeah. - I record mine on a tape
and play it back through my headphones.
Maybe I'll try it.
I can make you one if you want.
Ah, here they are. The Epitaph band themselves. Good gig, boys.
Now I know why rock stars go off the rails. It's the adrenaline rush.
- Fucks you up. - Hoople, you were born fucked up.
He's right.
- Two and two, split those with you. - OK.
- All right, Kenny? - Yes, miss.
Oh. I suppose Caliban's gonna have to be a skinhead now, is he?
- Yes, miss. - Fucking lesbian.
- What's that, sunshine? - Fuck off. You can't touch me.
- I left school. - What are you still doing here, then?
Talking to my brother, all right?
I tell you what. You should probably get some friends your own age.
- Leave him alone. - He's my brother, in't he?
Aren't you, Kenny?
Come on. Cheerio, lesbo. See you later, Kenny.
He's all right, miss.
Do you wanna come to rehearsals?
Right, just before we get there, I just wanna remind you, at the back,
you are Ariel's choir of Martian spirits.
Spirits, not elephants. Light. You keep it light.
Right, go on, get up there. I'll be Prospero.
More work? Let me remind you of what you promised me,
- which is not yet been performed. - How now, moody?
- What more can you want? - My liberty.
- Miss? - Dena, come on, you can be Prospero.
- I can't, miss. I'm banned, sorry. - What?
By the headmaster. Plus, a week's detention.
- Bugger. - I know. Fascist.
Would you stop it!
- Little shit. - Prick.
- Stop it, I am warning you. - Miss, it was him!
I don't care. Just stop it.
All right. Look, go from the song.
Enter Ferdinand. Where's Miranda? Come on, Stella.
- Right. - Fucking wanker.
Cue us in.
Where should this music be?
In the air or the earth?
It sounds no more.
This music hath crept by me upon the waters,
allaying both my fury and my passion with its sweet air.
Thence I followed it. Or it hath drawn me rather.
But 'tis gone.
No, it begins again.
You're sailing softly through the sun
In a broken Stone Age dawn
You fly so high
I get a strange magic
Oh, what a strange magic
Oh, it's a strange magic
Got a strange magic
You're walking meadows in my mind
Making waves across my time
Oh no, oh no
I get a strange magic
Oh, what a strange magic
Oh, it's a strange magic
Got a strange magic
- Got a strange magic - Now I'm
Never gonna be the same again
Now I've seen the way it's meant to end
Sweet dream Sweet dream
I get a strange magic
Oh, what a strange magic
Oh, it's a strange magic
Got a strange magic
It's magic
Strange magic
Oh, what a strange magic...
- Miss Mae. - Hm.
Miss Valentine.
I hope you don't mind me speaking frankly,
but some of us on the staff are a little concerned about how much
this musical is taking of the children's time.
Ah, the small delegation.
And, well, since we're being frank,
some indiscipline seems to be spilling over into their more serious studies.
- I mean, it's all very well you... - Are you suggesting that what we
are doing is not serious? I mean, compared to social studies?
We have made our thoughts known to the headmaster, Miss Mae.
It's as much as some of these children can do to read and write.
We'd all do well to get them through their three R's before moving on.
- Don't you agree, Mr Swinton? - Exams must come first.
It's a bit late to be worrying about that.
Half of them will be leaving here in three weeks' time. For good.
It'd be nice for them to at least have one opportunity
- for some self expression. - Self expression doesn't butter
any parsnips, Miss Mae.
Parsnips? Mad cow.
It's not even like it's a proper musical, is it, eh?
Don't you start, Cafferty.
I suppose you'd like to see the kids do "Oliver", again.
Ah, now you're talking. I love "Oliver", I do.
Lovely story, catchy tunes. Proper.
If I ever find out it was you who put him up to it.
- Who? - Syd Jones.
His parents said he wanted to concentrate on his studies
- and his rugby. - Yeah. He's a good rugby player.
It's summer, you fucker.
Oi. Oi! He's got trials coming up, right!
Nice tits, though.
Oh, aye.
Hello?
Hello. Is Mam there?
No, she's not here at the moment. Angus, is that you?
- What time will she be back? - Not sure. About six.
Angus, I...
- It's fucking hot. - Hot as fuck.
Oh, hello, love. I was expecting you earlier.
Your brother's upstairs. We've got a full house.
- Well, it was rehearsals. - Oh, don't worry.
Only Monday is "Merry Widows" night. And it's my turn to provide the nibbles.
Come on in. The girls would love to see you, I'm sure.
They're always asking after you. Girls, guess who's here?
That wayward daughter of mine.
She's teaching now, she's given up the acting. Isn't it lovely she's back?
Yeah.
Hello, love.
Hey.
- You met the coven then. - Yeah.
- They give you the third degree? - Oh...
I think I let 'em down on the glamour front. You know...
...coming home to teach. Not very glittery, is it?
How's the show going?
Oh, I'm not sure. I think I've bitten off more than I can chew.
Nothing new there, then. It'll be stunning.
It's good, innit? She's making a move, finally.
I can't believe it's been almost two years.
I used to love coming up here and disturbing him.
Yeah.
What are you gonna do with all those?
Uh... I don't know. Jumble?
We can't chuck 'em. I mean, that's...
That's a whole life-time's worth of stuff, that is. I mean...
- Do you want them? - I don't know. I'm...
Why don't you take a look through and tell me what you want
and I'll drop it off.
Where were you two earlier? I was looking for you.
You done?
My mum and dad still shag.
It's disgusting. They used to send me to Sunday school so they could do it.
But now, I don't go to Sunday school. I gotta sit there and listen to 'em.
Fuck off, Hoople.
Ah, I gotta go.
Why? What's wrong with you?
- Oh, look, I'll come with you. - What about me?
- Fuck off. - There's nothing wrong.
I just gotta go. It's me dad, you know.
See you later.
- What's wrong with him? - It's his dad, isn't it?
I've told him...
...life has to go on.
All right?
So, as we've discussed, class is measured by sociologists
in terms of income,
education and...
...values.
To give you an example, I am middle class.
You would be working class. Right, any questions so far?
Class dismissed.
Right, human nature. What is human nature?
It's one of the central questions of the play.
What makes us tick, all of us?
You think it's love? The need for love is at the core of the human experience?
You think everyone's capable of love?
Is Caliban capable of love? Kenny, what do you think?
I... I don't know, miss.
- OK. - Caliban's an outsider, like me.
I mean, like Ariel. They're both outsiders.
Yeah, good. Exactly. They're both excluded by society.
People make up their mind about Caliban because he's different.
They think Caliban's a monster. His mother was a witch.
You've met Kenny's mum then, miss?
- Fuck off! - All right, all right.
- You are fucking dead. - Fuck you, Kenny.
Lewis!
- Lewis, sit down! - Fucking idiot!
- Don't! - Oh, come on, Kenny.
- Fucking prick. - Kenny, please. Stop.
Just piss off, miss, yeah.
Stand still, Loder.
Still.
- Everything all right in here, Miss Mae? - Yes. Thank you, Mr Cafferty.
I can deal with my own class, thank you. It's all part of the process.
- Process? - Yes.
Thanks for that, kids.
Thanks for making me look like an idiot in front of the Incredible Bulk.
Right. Come on, Kenny.
Let's forget the words, let's just do the song, all right?
Anyone not involved can leave. OK?
Lewis, you all right? Yes? Kenny? Good.
- After school, you fucker. - Wanker.
Just sit down and play, please. Thank you.
Piss off, boys!
Lads.
You leave any marks on him and you'll be in big trouble.
No towel again, Miller?
- Sam, you mong, fuck off. - Miller!
Shall I slipper him, Mr Cafferty?
Everybody
Has been burned before
Everybody knows the pain
Anyone in this place
Can tell you to your face
Why you shouldn't
Try to love someone
Everybody knows
It never works
Everybody knows and me
I know that door
That shuts just before
You get to the dream
You see
- I gotta go. Bye. - Bye.
Bye.
What are you doing tonight?
- Homework. - What? Well, that's a first.
Sure you don't wanna come to Pizza Night?
- That's for you college types. - Miss Mae organises a get-together
for everyone who's leaving this year, you know.
A get-together with teachers? Sounds a bit naff.
Have you been telling people we're going out?
No.
That's not what I heard. Heard you been telling people we're going out.
We're friends, remember, yeah?
I don't get it.
You said that you loved me, Stella.
Oh, look, please, come on.
Fucking hell!
Kenny, you gotta ignore Lewis and Hoople.
They just say stuff to wind you up, you know. I know you can do it.
Kenny, every line you get right,
you gotta think "fuck off" at the end of it.
Make every line a "fuck off" to anybody who thinks that Kenny
- can't play Caliban. Got it? - Yes, miss.
Could I scrounge a fag, miss?
Ah, go on.
- What are your plans, Kenny? - What, miss?
When you leave at the end of term, what are your plans?
- I... I don't know. Maybe the Army. - Kenny, you join the Army,
they're gonna send you straight to Northern Ireland. You know that, right?
You understand that's what's gonna happen?
There's so many other things that you could... Shit.
He hates me. Oh, I'm fucked!
Oh, God.
Ah, there's free booze and pizza.
Sounds a bit naff.
You can't dump us. Come on, man.
Uh, no, I can't. Go on, go out and have a good night.
See you, boys.
Dunno why you bother. That Stella.
Everyone knows she's the school bike.
Women. They all lose it, don't they? In the end.
What do you know? For fuck's sake.
Mam, she lost it.
You know, fuck off, Angus, right.
Doing me fucking head in. You're doing fucking everyone's head in.
Fucking Stella. Fucking tart. Just like Mam.
You stupid fuck! Fuck off!
Don't talk about Mam like that! Fuck off, right!
Where you going? I'm doing sardines on toast, man.
It's because they don't think I'm a proper teacher.
Any excuse for Cafferty to stitch me up. First Syd Jones, and now this.
Watch, tomorrow morning he's gonna go straight to the head about the smoking.
I don't see what's so bad. In France, everybody smokes.
Even small children. It's normal.
They've been together for three years, have they?
- And she never speaks? - We've never heard her.
- Nobody has. - What about you, miss?
- You seeing anyone? - I'm not telling you that, Daz.
- Why not? - Because I'm not.
- Oh, come on. - And anyway,
it's first name terms tonight. So you gotta call me Viv.
Sorry, Viv.
Hey, any chance of a top-up, Mr Chisolm? I mean, Derek.
Hey, now, lads, right. There's school tomorrow.
Turn your frown upside down, sir.
Are you OK, miss? I think you should have started eating earlier.
Oh, we're busy, we're busy.
I need a towel.
It's the prawn salad.
I'm allergic. Always happens.
Oh, Dawn.
Whatever happens...
- ...you gotta promise me... - Miss Vivienne.
...you'll never give up the violin.
- It's piano, miss. - Yeah.
Miss Mae?
Viv, Vivienne. You all right?
Madam Chairman, ladies and gentlemen,
I presume this is to enable us to sweep Britain clean of socialism.
I can foresee that it will become as famous as Quentin Bell.
Davy?
Angus?
He's just being Angus, in't he.
Come on, let me speak to him.
What?
No, no, no, no, no, hang on. This isn't about you and your new bloody life.
I just wanted to know if you'd seen him. I wanted to know what's happening
because I've got the right.
Well, it wasn't me who bloody left, was it?!
Oh, God.
Smug twats.
- Do they sleep in their tracksuits? - Oh, probably.
- Oh, bugger. Bugger, bugger. - What are you going to do?
Do you know, I've had an idea.
Are you going to sleep with him?
Oh, my God, you're so French. Headmaster!
Headmaster. Can I just have an urgent word?
- I need to talk to you about the show. - Yes, yes, of course.
Come into my office.
Now the under-15s will be playing St. Mary's tonight
in the regional semi-finals, so we wish them luck.
Finally, I would like to make an announcement regarding
this year's school musical.
Miss Mae's groundbreaking production of Shakespeare's "Tempest."
I'm very happy to tell you that I have, like many of you,
succumbed to Miss Mae's persuasive powers,
and agreed, reluctantly of course,
to take on the role of Prospero.
It will provide me with a unique opportunity to participate
in what will be, I'm sure, a very special evening.
Smoking, with a pupil? And in a public precinct?
Very sorry, Headmaster, it won't happen again.
For God's sake, woman, do you not understand?
- There have to be boundaries. - Well, I'm not a maths teacher.
I'm trying to get the kids to explore emotion.
I want 'em to feel, when they sing a song
or speak the written word, I want them to feel emotional impact.
You know, I want 'em to know what it's like when your heart breaks.
When your soul or whatever you wanna call it, soars and...
I'm very well aware of the artistic process, Miss Mae.
And, believe me, I know the potency of cheap music.
No, it is not cheap music. I'm sorry, but they're a full orchestra.
That's as may be. But there have to be boundaries,
lines that do not get crossed.
As I said, I'm very sorry. It won't happen again.
Good.
I'm... I'm glad we understand each other.
Now, on a more positive note. How was the pizza evening?
Great. Very successful, indeed.
Good. Good.
Um, uh, what time do you want me at rehearsals?
Oh. Any time after 4.30.
Hm.
One bag of chips, please, Mrs Wong.
One bag of chips, please, as well, Mrs Wong. Thank you.
Davy. It's Stella.
Oh, where the hell is Stella?
Come on, let's just... let's try it without her. I'll play Miranda.
- What? - Come on, sing with me.
All right.
So, I want you to forget that you're on the stage. Right?
Forget the world around you. Just feel what you're singing.
Channel your emotions.
You're lost. Shipwrecked.
Miranda's your salvation, she's your destiny.
This is the moment you fall in love.
I can hear so much
In your sighs
And I can see so much
In your eyes
There are words we both could say
Don't talk
Put your head on my shoulder
Come close
Close your eyes and be still
Don't talk
Take my hand
And let me hear your heart
Beat
Hello, everyone. Apologies for my tardiness.
- Welcome, Headmaster. - I thought I'd, uh, dress casual.
Great.
Ah, the goddess on whom the music attends.
- Sorry I'm late, miss. - Don't worry, I did your bit for you.
You're not indispensable, Stella Jones. Just remember that. Nobody is.
It won't happen again, Miss Mae. The both of us will be punctual next time.
- Won't we, Stella? - Right, let's try it again, shall we?
- From where? - Well, the same place.
If that's all right with you. When Miranda first sets eyes on Ferdinand.
- It's the moment they fall in love. - All these songs are about love.
It gets confusing.
- Um, where do you want me? - Oh, by Ariel and Iris.
Well, you gotta look into each other's eyes.
Most sure, it is the goddess on whom the music attends.
O you wonder! Tell me if you be maid or no.
No wonder, sir, but certainly a maid.
I can hear so much
In your sighs
And I can see so much
In your eyes
There are words we both could say
Don't talk
Put your head on my shoulder
Come close
Close your eyes and be still
Don't talk
Take my hand
And let me hear your heart
Heart beat
- Just piss off, Stella! - Well, what's wrong now?
You know exactly what's wrong. You're just a fucking prick-tease.
No, I'm not.
- Miss, can I be excused? - Yeah, go on.
All right, hush. Just take a five minute break. Right, everyone.
- You gotta be more careful. - Did you hear what he called me?
Yeah, I know, that was unnecessary...
I'm not bloody singing again with him. No way.
- Come on, Stella. - No. Forget it.
He's lost the plot, he has, big time.
Um, I... you know, uh, as I said,
it's... it's important that they explore their emotions.
- Explore or indulge? - Well, it can get a bit a messy.
You all right?
I'm sorry, miss, I...
Don't waste too much time, Davy.
- What? - On Stella.
She's bloody gorgeous. I can see that.
But she might not be the one. You ever thought of that?
I don't know much, but... I know you can't persuade someone to love you.
And you can't blame them when they don't.
- Thanks, miss. - You're welcome, Davy.
Strange face, with your eyes
So pale and sincere
Underneath you know well
You have nothing to fear
For the dreams that came
To you when so young
Told of a life
Where spring is sprung
You would seem so frail
In the cold of the night
When the armies of emotion
Go out to fight
But while the earth
Sinks to its grave
You sail to the sky
On the crest of a wave
And if one day
You should see me in the crowd
Lend a hand and lift me
To your place
In the cloud
Do you ever feel like an alien?
Like sometimes I think I've been stranded on this planet,
and that one day they're gonna come and pick me up. Take me back.
Well, if that happens, let me know. Maybe they'll take me with you.
Let's go for a swim. To cool off.
- Let's not. - Oh, come on...
Oh, yeah, let's. Let's go down the lido.
- You sure they won't be back? - I told you. They're at my uncle's.
- All night. - What about Lewis?
He thinks you're at the hospital. He's over at Hoople's.
Ah, I should go. I wanna see my dad.
Yeah, OK.
I'll go see him tomorrow.
Don't, you'll ruin my hair.
Oh, I was starting to think you'd run away an' all.
- No, I've just been riding around. - Oh, aye.
Spoke to your mother.
- All right? - Aye.
No problem. Angus is staying over her place for a few days.
Got a surprise for you boys.
Come and see.
- A fridge? - Freezer. Fridge...
It's not ours yet, of course, but it will be,
so I don't want any dents or scratches, right.
- What are they? - Melon balls.
Ice cream, too, and Tip-Tops for Angus.
He's always going on about your mam's deep freeze
over her bloke's in Porthcawl.
- Still don't know what she sees in him. - He's got a deep freeze, hasn't he?
He's a nasty little troublemaker. A very disruptive influence in class.
Yeah, well, that wouldn't happen on my watch, Miss Valentine.
Next time, just send the little bugger over to me.
- Who are we talking about? - Kenny Loder.
His brother was just the same.
You know I'm interested, as an expert...
Oh, no, wait, as a social studies teacher.
Do you think he was born a nasty little troublemaker
or did we turn him into one? 'Cause he's doing really well for me.
- He can sing, for a start. - It won't last. Mark my words.
- Biscuit fund. - Why? Because you only have
- one approach? - Miss Mae, I believe you've already
had one official warning in your brief time here.
It might pay you to show some humility.
- No, thanks, I'm on a diet. - But you had a biscuit.
- What? - Yesterday. You had a biscuit.
Actually, you had two. You had one on Tuesday as well. Digestive.
- Am I really that ugly, then? - No.
Well, what is it, then?
I'm not sure it's... girls I like.
What? You're.. you're a poof?
I just need some time to work it out.
You've already worked it out, I reckon.
I'm not ashamed of it.
I always knew you were different.
That's why I liked you, I suppose.
Not like the other twats in this school.
So have you told anyone else?
Well, I'm glad you told me.
So am I.
We passed upon the stair
We spoke of was and when
Although I wasn't there
He said I was his friend
Which came as some surprise
I spoke into his eyes
I thought you died alone
A long, long time ago
Oh, no, not me
I never lost control
You're face to face
With The Man Who Sold The World
I laughed and shook his hand
And made my way back home
I searched for form and land
For years and years I roamed
I gazed a gazely stare
At all the millions here
We must have died alone
A long, long time ago
Who knows?
Not me
We never lost control
You're face to face
With The Man Who Sold The World
Right. Prospero, Caliban. Headmaster, you're on. Kenny.
From, uh, "What ho, slave."
Oh...
What ho, slave! Caliban.
Thou earth, thou! Fetch some wood.
There's wood enough already. Fuck off.
Yeah. Think it, don't say it, Kenny.
He's improvising. He's just working it out.
I don't think the f-word has any place in Shakespeare.
Well, it's actually very old, the f-word.
- It's also very offensive. - Well, so is Caliban.
- Boundaries, Miss Mae, boundaries. - Yes, Headmaster.
Carry on. Thank you.
There's other business for thee, too. Come here, tortoise.
This island's mine, by...
- Sycorax. - Fuck!
- It's all right, go on. - Sycorax, my mother,
which you stole from me,
uh, when you came first you stroked me.
Sh! Stop!
Just fuck off! You're fucking dead! And you!
- Pay no attention to him, please. - Kenneth.
Look, don't you get it?
I never wanted to do this poxy musical in the first place.
- I know, Kenny, just come back. - Just fuck off, miss, will you!
Quiet!
"Feeling both the fury and the passion of this sweet air."
Oh, hi. You look smart.
I'm just on my way home from work.
I was wondering if you'd fancy going for a spin later like?
- Where to? - Anywhere you fancy.
Have you ever heard of this place called The Casablanca?
- No. - It's this club I fancied going to.
Nightclub, sure. Why not?
I propose a toast...
...to groundbreaking, cutting-edge, Shakespearean, concept rock operas.
- Did I leave anything out? - No, I don't think so.
- Good. Come on, then. - Right.
- Cheers. - Cheers.
Up your bum.
Ah. Ah, I gained a Prospero and lost a Caliban. It's hardly a fair swap.
- Kenny might come back. - No.
I think Lord Olivier is here to stay, though. I...
"I thought I'd dress casual."
He's on my side, deep down.
Oh, my God, who the hell can that be?
My God, who's that? You get it.
- No, I'm not going. - I'll go.
Hello?
Davy. What are you doing up here?
I was on my way to my nan's. She lives over in Briton Ferry.
Oh, right.
It's just... I come off my bike. I think I got a puncture.
- Are you all right? - I'm fine.
You wanna come in?
OK.
...always makes me want tequila.
- Looks crap. - Come on, it sounds good.
- Want a drink? - Yes, please.
- What kind of drink d'you want? - I don't mind.
- What's all these? - American imports.
There's no bar. There's no fucking bar! What are we doing here?
- It's good. - It's not good, it's shit.
- It's good. - It's not good, it's crap.
- Let's go somewhere else. - Just leave it.
- What's your fucking game? - Get off me!
- Let me give you a lift home. - Piss off.
Right. There you go.
You should be quite comfortable on that settee.
Thanks.
It's going to be great. The show.
Yeah.
Listen, are you sure you don't wanna phone your dad?
We don't have a phone.
Anyway, he's working nights.
OK, well, sleep tight, then.
Just get lost, will you!
Stella, you OK?
Are you all right?
Davy?
You all right?
- What's wrong? - Um...
Nothing.
School tomorrow.
Hello.
Hello?
- All right? - Hi.
- Viv about? - Through there.
- Ah, Timothy. - All right?
- Just brought these round for her. - Yeah, fine.
Ah, Davy, you're up. I didn't wanna knock.
- How was the sofa? - Uh, OK.
This is Rhys, by the way. Viv's... Miss Mae's brother.
You're one of her pupils then, are you?
- What are you doing here? - That's nice.
On my way to work. I brought that stuff you wanted, of dad's.
- Oh, OK. - Shouldn't you be at school?
- Yeah. - Bonjour.
I had the most amazing dream last night.
I was making love to a man with a beard.
Hi.
I'm Sylvie. I'm French.
I am Rhys and I am Welsh.
- Hey, Hoople, are you OK? - Yeah, I'm OK. You?
Yeah. See you later.
- What's going on? - Oh, it's the school hall, miss.
It burnt down. We got a day off.
Christ!
Oh, no!
All clear now, love.
Oh, my God.
If I could have your attention, please. Thank you.
Now, all classes are suspended
until the building has been made safe.
Sporting events should go ahead on the field,
but, uh, obviously there will be no school show.
Otherwise, I think we should do our best to get on with things
and get things back to normal as soon as possible.
Now, I've just come off the telephone to the police.
I reckon it was the wiring, Headmaster.
Those lights were dodgy as shit anyway.
There was nothing wrong with those lights.
- Headmaster, I have made a list... - Oh, don't tell me.
Of all the nasty, little troublemakers in the school.
Do you hate kids? I mean, is it all kids or is it just the poor ones?
- Miss Mae, Vivienne... - And I've underlined in red
all those who have a history of delinquency.
- Miss Valentine, please. - Christ, do you ever stop, woman?!
What do you wanna do? You wanna feel the bumps on their heads next?
Someone has burnt half the fucking school down!
- Language, please. - So let us stop this petty, liberal
procrastination and take control of the situation.
We are fiddling while Rome burns! Action must be taken!
You see, that's it. "Petty, liberal procrastination."
That is what you think self-expression is.
And God forbid that you would ever go the extra mile to find out
what those kids are actually good at!
Well, it is no surprise that the fire started where it did.
What is that supposed to mean, you condescending cow?!
- Please, ladies, please! - It is perfectly obvious!
Please! Now, if you'd just listen to me.
I've just been on the telephone to the police.
They've informed me that as of half an hour ago,
they've taken in Kenneth Loder for questioning.
Miss Mae.
I even fucked up being a teacher.
Maybe being a teacher isn't as easy as it looks.
Anyway, who says you fucked it up? Everybody says you're a great teacher.
- Who says I'm a great teacher? - Your two nutty friends.
It meant such a lot to me, this show.
I thought it meant a lot to them, too, you know.
Half the time he couldn't even be bothered to turn up to rehearsals.
That is what kids do. They skive off. It's their job.
I never did that.
You know your trouble, don't you?
You have got high expectations.
Whereas I have always had low expectations,
which is why I never disappoint myself.
You should try it sometime.
- Lowering your expectations. - I don't wanna end up like you.
- Two chips, please, Mrs Wong. - Bloody fantastic.
"Hi, Hoople", she said, "see you later."
And now there won't be any fucking rehearsals.
Fuck! Just my bastard luck! Fucking Kenny.
See, I don't think it was him. I think it was Angus.
You know he's always setting stuff alight. You know, blowing things up.
- Ah, you can talk. - True.
Lots of salt and vinegar, please, Mrs Wong.
A lot more than you'd think acceptable.
See, he's always got that fucking lighter on him as well.
- You know what I mean? - Well, he does smoke.
Are you the fuckers that dropped my brother in it?
- Oh, fucking hell, Hoople! - Let's fucking have them!
Come back!
- You're fucking dead! - Let's fucking get them!
You fucking pricks!
Come here!
Come on!
Let's have them!
- Fucking wankers! - Let's fucking get them!
Let's have 'em!
- Oi, leave him alone! - Fuck off!
I said fucking leave him alone!
- Is that right? - Come on, then!
Oi, leave him alone, you lot! I'll call the police.
- Fuck off, you wanker! - Fucking wanker!
- Hoople? You all right, or what? - Fuck.
It's not the first time, to be honest with you.
- It's boys, innit? - Is this him?
No, it's my eldest boy, Davy.
- Everything all right? - Angus is not at your mother's no more.
Had an argument with her boyfriend a couple of nights ago.
Run off, hasn't come back.
- Well, where is he now? - Well, he's gone missing, ain't he.
Again?
Look. Fucking broke them. Jesus Christ.
- Look at 'em. - Could have broken it.
- You bastard! - Lewis, don't.
Why him? You're my best mate, for fuck's sake.
- That's way out of order. - I knew he'd act like this.
You dumped me. I thought it was 'cause of your dad. You fucking used me.
- Why are you so angry, Lewis? - Because you're my sister. You can't.
- Why not? - He's in the band, you dozy cow,
- that's why not. - Shut up, Hoople.
- So? - You just don't get it, do you?
Look, mate, there's some things you just don't do.
Piss off, Hoople. Just piss off!
All right, then. I will.
Swig?
Thanks.
Talked to your mother.
She said Angus has been spotted hanging round the arcades
down by the fair in Porthcawl.
Well, that's a relief, innit?
- How come? - Well...
...means it couldn't have been him that started that fire, doesn't it?
I mean, if he was in Porthcawl last night...
He's probably gone round Nan's by now.
I'll go round in the morning.
Shame about the show, huh?
You worked hard for that, son.
So, what are you gonna do, Miss Mae?
We used to put on these little concerts in our back garden.
Directed by me, of course. Starring me, obviously.
Accompanied by Rhys on his plastic Woolworth Beatles guitar.
God, I wish I'd had a bossy sister like you.
So, what are you gonna do?
He always encouraged me, my dad. That's the thing.
"Don't let the bastards grind you down."
Oh, that was his favourite quote, even when he was ill.
- Karl Marx? - Yeah, well, it's...
...actually got a lot more impact in the original German.
Right, I think I spotted some sherry in the kitchen. From Christmas.
- Really? - Technically it's an aperitif, I know.
- Well, it hasn't rained all summer. - Beg your pardon?
- It hasn't rained all summer. - Very good.
- Yeah. If it rains, it rains. - It is called "The Tempest."
Oh, yeah, it is called "The Tempest," Headmaster, very funny, yeah.
Yes, good idea.
I think Shakespeare would approve. Out there in nature, under the stars.
Yes, yes, yes, yes, well, well...
Yes. Yes, Headmaster. Right, I'll see you later.
Bye-bye.
I've seen so many of these over the years.
The children never get any older, do they?
It's just the rest of us.
You know the police have released Kenneth Loder?
- I didn't know that, no. - Yeah, lack of evidence, apparently.
So the culprit is still out there somewhere.
You thought about my proposal, then?
Now, I know you think I'm an old fogy, but during the war,
when I was in the Services, we used to put shows on all the time.
Raise morale, that sort of thing. We had such fun.
And those shows, well, I'd like to think that they made a difference.
- Shall I take that as a yes, then? - Extreme times call for
extreme measures, don't you think, Miss Mae?
Not that there's a war on now, of course, but, uh, you get my drift?
There's always a war on, Headmaster.
What about Miss Valentine? Is she the future?
"O brave new world that has such people in't."
Kenny, what are you doing here? Are you all right?
I bet you think it was me an' all, don't you? Who started the fire.
- No, I don't. - Well, good. Because it wasn't.
- I'm putting the show back on. - No.
No way. No way, miss. Everybody fucking hates me.
No, everybody hates me.
You don't have to play Caliban.
Just do a couple of lines. I got another part for you.
Come on, let's show 'em.
A devil, a born devil.
On whose nature Nurture can never stick.
On whom my pains humanely taken, all...
All lost, quite lost.
And as with age, his body uglier grows,
so his mind canker.
I will plague them all, even to roaring.
Even to roaring!
Roaring!
Most sure, 'tis the goddess on whom the music attends.
O you wonder! Tell me if you be maid or no.
Davy? I'm off to work now.
Good luck for tonight.
No wonder, sir, but certainly a maid.
Yeah, that sounds nice.
More work. Let me remind you of what you promised me
which has not yet been performed. My liberty.
- Go on. - Be not a feared,
the isle is full of noises, sounds and sweet airs
that give delight and hurt not.
Need a hand?
I said I'm sorry, Lew.
Fuck's sake, Lewis.
One last gig?
It's a god-awful small affair
To the girl with the mousy hair
But her mummy is yelling, "No"
And her daddy has told her to go
But her friend is nowhere to be seen
Now she walks through her sunken dream
To the seat with the clearest view
And she's hooked to the silver screen
But the film is a saddening bore
For she's lived it ten times or more
She could spit in the eyes of fools
As they ask her to focus on
Sailors fighting in the dance hall
Oh, man, look at those cavemen go
It's the freakiest show
Take a look at the lawman
Beating up the wrong guy
Oh, man, wonder if he'll ever know
He's in the bestselling show
Is there life on Mars?
Hi, hi, my hearts.
Cheerily, cheerly my hearts.
Take down the topsail.
Tend to the master's whistle.
Blow to thou, blow my wind.
Down with the top mast.
A plague upon this howling!
I've been thinking now
For a long time
How to go
My own separate way
It's a shame to think
About yesterday
It's a shame
A shame
Our revels now are ended.
And these, our actors, as I foretold you,
were all spirits and are melted into air,
into thin air.
And like this insubstantial pageant, faded,
leave not a rack behind.
We are such stuff as dreams are made of,
and our little life is rounded with a sleep.
Sailin' away on the crest of a wave
It's like magic
Oh, rollin' and ridin' and slippin' and slidin'
It's magic
And you
And your sweet desire
You took me
- Oh - Higher and higher, baby
It's a livin' thing
It's a terrible thing to lose
It's a given thing
What a terrible thing to lose
And I'm takin' a dive
Halt the slide
Takin' a dive 'cause you can't halt the slide
- Floating downstream - I'm takin' a dive
Oh, so let her go Don't start spoiling the show
- It's a bad dream - I'm takin', I'm takin'
And you
And your sweet desire
- Don't you do it - You took me
Higher and higher, baby
It's a livin' thing
It's a terrible thing to lose
It's a given thing
What a terrible thing to lose
It's a given thing
What a terrible thing to lose
It's a livin' thing
It's a terrible thing to lose
It's a given thing
What a terrible thing to lose
It's a livin' thing
What a terrible thing to lose
It's a given thing
What a terrible thing to lose
It's a livin' thing
What a terrible thing to lose