Agnes Browne (1999) - full transcript
The unexpected death of her husband sends a woman and her seven children, ages 2-14, into emotional turmoil and financial crisis in 1967 Dublin. She is forced to borrow money from a ruthless loan shark to make ends meet. She faces her dismal existence by selling fruits and vegetables at an open air market where she spends time with a best friend who gives her encouragement. Wishing to escape her existence, if only for a short time, she dreams of finding enough money to attend an upcoming Tom Jones concert. She realizes her dream by accepting her first date with a French baker. Her kids pool their money so she can buy a new dress. Of course, eventually the family has to face the loan shark, but this is a movie where obstacles are maybe too easily overcome.
SUBTITLE FOR
AGNES BROWNE (1999)
- Name and social welfare number.
- I don't have one.
- You don't have a name?
- Of course she has a name.
Agnes.
After the blessed Agnes.
Agnes Browne.
I don't have a social welfare number.
- Your husband, is he working?
- No, not anymore.
- So he's signed on then?
- No.
- Why not?
- He's dead.
Dead. Do you have your
widow's pension book with you?
Well, I haven't got one.
That's why I'm here.
- Full name?
- Agnes Loretta Browne.
Browne with an "e"?
Yeah. And Agnes with an "e,"
and Loretta with an "e."
- Maiden name?
- Um, Reddin.
- Husband's name?
- Nicholas Browne.
Although everyone calls him Redser.
And before you ask,
I don't know his maiden name.
Nicholas Browne will be fine.
- Occupation?
- He was a kitchen porter.
- And where did he work?
- In the kitchen, I suppose.
But where? Was it a hotel?
It's still a hotel. The Shelbourne Hotel
in St. Stephen's Green.
How much will she be gettin'?
How many children do you have?
Right. Well, there's Mark--
He's me eldest. He's 14.
And then there's Frankie. He's 13.
And there's me twins, Simon and Dermot.
They're 12, both of them.
And then there's Rory. He's 11.
And Cathy is...
Ten. That was '57.
She was a forceps.
Ah, right, Marion.
Will you ever forget it?
Oh, and then there's me baby, Trevor.
He's two.
- Now, when did your husband die?
- Ten minutes past 4:00.
- Yes, but what day?
- This morning.
This morning? Sure, he couldn't
even have a certificate.
- What?
- A death certificate.
A certificate from a doctor...
stating that your husband is in fact dead.
- He could be alive for all I know.
- Oh, no, love.
He's definitely dead.
- Isn't he, Marion?
- Absolutely.
I know him years, love.
Never seen him look so bad.
Dead. Definitely dead.
Look, Mrs. Browne, I cannot process
this until you have a death certificate.
When you have one, bring it in with that
form, and we'll give you your pension.
Ten minutes past 4:00, indeed.
Well, 40 pounds is...
That's a lot of money for
me to be loanin' to a widow.
I need this money, Mr. Billy.
Funerals are not cheap.
I'm gonna need your
children's allowance book.
Cost you two pound a week.
I'll collect it from you startin' on Friday.
Don't fuck me around...
and we'll get on, all right?
Right.
- You understand me then?
- Yeah.
That's good.
One, two, three, four,
five, six, seven, eight.
There you go, love.
Oh, and my condolences, Mrs. Browne.
Do you need me to sign something?
No.
It's a terrible shame.
I'm all right. Thanks.
Thanks very much.
- Sorry for your trouble, Agnes.
- Thanks, Porter. Thanks, love.
Mam! Mammy!
- Hey, Mammy.
- Hi. How are you?
Hi, Mammy.
Come on. Let's go.
I'll tell you at home.
Come on, kids. Get down
to the stall, all right?
Here you go, ma'am.
I'm so sorry.
Ah, god love ya.
There you are.
Six jumpers and one cardigan.
Oh, thanks.
I've never asked for charity before.
It's the kids.
Just think of them as a gift from God.
I do. They're a blessing.
They're only jumpers.
Oh. I was talking
about the kids.
Oh. Good luck.
- Thanks.
- What's that?
Jumpers, love.
Jumpers.
Hiya.
Here you are, love.
- Remember them jumpers.
- Right, Ma.
There you are, Spartacus.
- Jesus, that dog loves you, Marion.
- And why wouldn't he?
Don't I always think of you, Spartacus?
I'll drop by later, love, and
help you bath them kids.
Thanks, Marion. You're a sweetheart.
Come on, love.
- Mammy?
- Yes, love?
Don't worry, Mammy.
I'll be here.
I know, love.
I know.
Good night.
- Where in Christ's name is Mark?
- In the toilet.
- What's he doing in the feckin' toilet?
- I don't know.
Marion, you go on with these...
while I see what's up with
the little gobshite.
- Right.
- Be good. Be good, youse all.
- Come on, Cathy.
Mark!
- Comin', Mam.
- Get out of that fuckin' toilet now.
What do you think you're up to?
Nothin'.
Come on.
Isn't this grand?
Ah.
In the name of the Father and of the Son
and of the Holy Ghost, amen.
The loss of Nicholas Browne
will be greatly mourned...
by everyone in the parish,
and we offer our sincere condolences
to Mrs. Browne and her seven children.
Da-da.
Sorry for your troubles, love.
Mrs. Monks.
Sad occasion, son.
Did you know I was a good
friend of your father's?
You know, fine man so he was, huh?
He was an idiot.
Frankie, I need the money for Mammy.
- Hand it over, Frankie.
- Who made you the boss?
Leave me alone. I'll tell Mammy on ya.
Kids! Kids, come on!
Are you okay, kids?
Oop!
What's the problem?
Me husband--
he knows all about engines.
Tommo!
- Are you ready?
- Tommo, get over here!
Tommo, there's something
wrong with the car.
Do you know what the trouble is?
- It's fucked. Yeah, it's fucked.
- That's all we need.
What are we gonna do?
Rooney!
Jesus. Jesus God.
What's the trouble, Mr. Carmichael?
I'll tell you what the trouble is.
Clarke, deceased,
is running an hour late...
owin' to Father O'Bannion having a heart
attack halfway through the mass,
and he'll be here any minute.
Browne, deceased, was due here
a quarter of an hour ago,
and there's not a sign of the bastard.
And here's O'Brien, dead on time.
Now what?
Jesus! God alive.
Fellas.
Here. Thank you.
Respect the dead now. Respect the
dead. Take it easy now.
One at a time now. Good man.
Through here.
Follow the one on your right, kids.
That's your father.
Hey, Ma, wait!
Down there?
Browne's that way!
Over there.
The dirty bastard.
- What?
- The fancy woman.
He must have been keeping her,
and I never knew.
Let us pray for the soul...
of our dear departed brother...
Harold Clarke.
Oh, shite. Wrong grave.
Come on, Spartacus. Hurry up.
In the name of the Father and of
the Son and of the Holy Ghost--
Come on, Ma!
- Hey, watch me lunch there!
- Sorry!
If you're quite ready, Mrs. Browne.
In the name of the Father and of
the Son and of the Holy Ghost, amen.
Our Father who art in heaven,
hallowed be thy name--
Thy kingdom come.
Thy will be done--
Open up the door, Mark.
Please, Mark. Please, Mark.
Mark! Mark, your brother's
burstin' out here.
All right, youse, what's up with Mark?
Maybe he has worms.
Don't be so disgusting, you.
But, Mammy, people do get
worms in their poo.
Mary Dowdall told me,
and they do be miles long.
You shut up that talk. Brownes don't
get worms, and that's that.
It's his willy.
All right.
- Who's this "Willy" fellow then?
- Who?
You've got a problem, love.
Don't tell me you haven't.
- It's me willy, Ma.
- Is he a friend of yours or what?
No.
Me--
Me willy.
Oh.
I see.
Is it sore?
No.
- Itchy?
- What? No.
Come on, Mark. Tell your mammy.
There-- There's hairs growin' on it.
Oh.
Is that all?
Well, it's just the start of becoming
a man, that's all.
Sure. It happens to all boys
round your age.
So, what are they for?
It's, um,
to keep your willy warm
when you go swimming.
Now go on. Off. Don't be annoying me.
- Good morning, girls. How are you?
- How are you, Rita?
- Rita, how's it going?
- Great.
♪ Whoa, whoa, whoa, She's a lady ♪
What do you think?
It's a mirror, huh?
Amazing.
♪ About a little lady
♪ And the lady is fine ♪
- What?
- Nothin'. Here.
♪ She's a lady ♪
Morning, God.
It's me, Marion.
Shillin' a pound.
Last of the hard tomatoes.
Ah! Hey.
Shillin' a pound--
Shillin' a pound.
Last of the hard tomatoes.
- How are you?
- Grand.
Nice bit of cabbage today.
Is that trout fresh?
Fresh?
It's after pinching me
on the arse twice already.
Don't mind her, love.
Feed that to your husband, and you'll
be puttin' him out with the cat tonight.
Shillin' a pound.
Last of the hard tomatoes.
- Hi, Auntie Marion.
- How are you, love?
Oh, there you are, love.
Corned beef.
Go on. Off with you. Mind yourself.
- Mammy?
- What, love?
Is Daddy gone to heaven forever?
Well, I hope so. I mean, I hope
he's gone to heaven.
But--But what, love?
Does that mean we won't be
going to the zoo this year?
Ah, no, it doesn't.
Sure, I'll take youse.
- Great, Mammy. See ya.
- Bye, love.
Bye, love.
- Take 'em where?
- To the zoo.
God love them, they could
do with a day out.
And what about yourself?
Jesus, Agnes, it's been over a month now,
and you haven't set foot outside the door.
Jesus, Marion, I'm not in the humor.
Well, get in the humor.
It's just what you need.
You, me and a good night out.
That's that then.
Saturday night, the two of us.
And we'll go mad.
Hey, Marion, shall I wear me tiara?
♪ You've any money
♪ Go up to the park and view
the zoological gardens ♪
♪ Said she to me, me loverly Jack ♪
♪ Sure, I'd love to ride
on the elephant's back ♪
♪ If you don't get outta that,
I'll give you such a smack ♪
♪ Up in the zoological gardens ♪
♪ Thunder and lightning is no lark ♪
♪ When Dublin city is in the dark ♪
♪ So if you've any money,
go up to the park ♪
♪ And view the zoological gardens ♪
♪ We went up there on our honeymoon ♪
♪ Said she to me,
if you don't come soon ♪
♪ I'll have to get in
with the hairy baboon ♪
♪ Up in the zoological gardens ♪
♪ Thunder and lightning is no lark ♪
♪ When Dublin city is in the dark ♪
♪ So if you've any money,
go up to the park ♪
♪ And view the zoological gardens ♪♪
- Thanks.
- And the next, please?
Children's allowance book, please.
Six children?
- Seven. There's another page.
- Oh, sorry.
Seven sixes--
Two pounds and two shillings.
- Thank you.
- Thanks very much.
Next, please.
Bet a pound on that each way.
- He looks like a good horse, you know.
- There you go.
Oh, thanks, love.
Is he looking for a vampire, is he?
- Your two pounds.
- That's grand, love. Hey!
The book, love.
- Morning, Mr. Burke.
- Jesus, son, you've great energy.
Oh, well, I'm only glad of the work.
Everybody in?
Put the money on the table.
Nothin' changes, eh, Micko. No.
Frankie, you know-- Redser Browne
30 years ago.
Like father, like son, huh? Hmm.
Yeah, nothin' changes here.
Thank God.
Look, spider!
- Where the hell were you?
- Mary Dowdall's.
Stay away from that one.
And where'd you get that bloody hat?
Off Mary. I like it. It's the fashion.
Fashion, my arse. Your dinner's ready.
I'm not hungry.
That one's gettin' cheeky since she
started hanging out with Mary Dowdall.
Me, me, me, me, me.
- Jesus Christ!
- Mam! Mammy!
Trevor wants an ice pop, Cathy wants
some white bread to feed the ducks,
and Dermot wants peanut--
Stop it! Stop it, the lot of youse!
And don't call me Mammy.
I'm changing me fuckin' name.
I don't have enough money
to feed the lot of youse,
never mind feedin' the bloody ducks!
You had enough money
to go drinkin' last night.
Monkeys.
Oh, Mammy. I'm sorry.
Don't cry, Mammy.
We'll be good. Don't leave us, please.
Oh, Cathy.
I'll never leave youse.
We're the Brownes.
We stick together, right?
But you're all gonna have to help me out.
I can't do it on me own.
Monkeys. Monkeys.
Now, where's these fuckin' monkeys?
I just thought you might
want to consider it, you know,
'cause I could be a great help,
especially with new people, son.
Out.
Fair enough so.
I'll be seeing you.
Ah, ah, ah. Watch the funny man, son.
Look at him.
Don't pay attention to them.
- Here's your milk.
- Oh, yeah. Thank you.
So, uh, how's the new shop comin' along?
Good. Good.
Yeah, well, see you tomorrow, huh?
Hmm. See you.
Count the money.
Frankie Browne, get outta there and go to
school, or I'll tell Mammy on ya, so I will.
Piss off, Cathy, will ya?
You hear the new Tom Jones record?
Here he comes now, greedy bastard.
Mrs. Browne.
Ladies.
Thanks.
- Are you all right for money?
- I'm managing.
If you're stuck, I have a spare
shilling or two, Aggie.
There's only Tommo and me.
Ah, you're very good, Marion.
I'm all right. I'll manage.
Once I get over Cathy's
Communion and Christmas.
Agnes.
- What?
- Ah, nothin'.
What, Marion? You were going to
say something. What was it?
Do you miss it?
What? Miss what?
Ah, you know. It.
The queer thing?
- No.
- Are you serious?
What's to bleedin' miss?
The smell of chips and Guinness bein'
breathed all over ya?
And his chin like fuckin' sandpaper
rubbin' up on your neck? No.
Ah, now, you can't say
you never enjoyed it, Agnes.
Marion, will you get a grip?
Enjoyed what?
You know,
the organism.
I never done one.
I don't think they exist.
They do. I swear, Agnes, they do.
I done two.
Organisms? When?
One a couple of weeks after your
Redser's funeral, of a Friday,
and one last August.
Jesus!
What were they like?
Well, needless to say,
he was drunk.
There he was, bouncing up and down,
up and down, up and down--
I know-- I know that bit.
Get to the point.
Ah, right.
I'm thinking to meself,
"If this fellow doesn't evacuate soon,
I'll fall asleep."
Suddenly, a feeling came over me.
It was like... gettin' 10
early numbers in the bingo,
and you just know something good is coming.
Next thing, it was like an explosion.
I could see colors burstin' in me mind,
like someone set off fireworks.
Me hips started jerkin' all on their own.
And suddenly, without me tellin' it to,
me mouth let out a little yelp-- woo!
Ah!
Anyway, next thing, he stopped and said,
"Sorry, love. I didn't mean to hurt ya."
"Keep goin'," I kinda whispered.
But he just went to sleep.
So, I lay there. And I don't know why,
but after a while, I started to cry.
I wasn't sad or nothin'. I just cried.
Gas, isn't it?
- Did you tell him about it?
- You're jokin'.
He'd say I had fuckin' worms or something.
- How long did they last?
- Just a couple of seconds. Over in a flash.
Geez. If they're that quick, I could've
had one and never noticed it.
Nah.
Believe you me, Agnes,
if you'd have had one,
you'd have noticed for sure.
Oh, look, a punter.
Well, fuck you, Redser Browne.
Seven children and not one
organism to show for it.
Isn't she absolutely beautiful?
Look at her posing.
- Do all kids go on like that?
- Oh, yes, missus.
Believe me, Irish girls know a dry
run when they see one.
- Are you happy, love?
- Yeah, Mammy. It's gorgeous.
- Well, you can thank your Auntie Marion.
- Thanks, Auntie Marion.
- You were a long time inside.
- I know. I know.
Here. I'll take that for you, Cathy.
Isn't that beautiful?
Gorgeous.
It'd look great on you.
I'd rather wear the money.
It's lovely, isn't it, Mark?
It's not a mammy's dress.
Sure, look at the price.
Our mam could never pay that.
- Hello, Mrs. Browne.
- Oh, hello.
- You look lovely today.
- Oh, thanks.
Hello, Mrs. Monks.
Bye.
Hiya, Pierre.
Didn't say I looked beautiful.
Blind bastard.
You be careful, Agnes.
That fellow only wants to peel your celery.
I've been in love so many times ♪
♪ Thought I knew the score
♪ But now you've treated me so wrong ♪
♪ I can't take any more
♪ And it looks like
♪ I'm never gonna fall
♪ In love Hmm!
♪ Again
Mark, what are you doing up?
I don't want to go back to school
after the summer, Mammy.
What do you want to do then?
I don't know. I'll go get a job.
Oh, yeah, a job here, a job there--
then back on the dole.
- It's not good enough.
- It was good enough for me da.
You don't have to tell me.
But it's not good enough for you.
No, you're not leaving school till
you get a trade like your Uncle Gonzo.
I don't want to be a feckin' plumber.
You watch your language,
and I might remind you...
your Uncle Gonzo only owns his own house.
Yeah, well, you can't make me feckin' stay.
What did I say about your language?
Now feck off back to bed.
I reckon those priests are fixing it.
Nah. Just a run of bad luck.
- Good night.
- Good night.
Bottle o' cider.
And Guinness with black currant.
My treat, girls.
- God bless, Mr. Foley.
- Thanks, Mr. Foley.
Any luck tonight?
Not at all. If it was raining soup,
I'd be the one out there with the fork.
Has that one asked you out yet?
Jesus, Marion. I wouldn't be bothered
with him or any of them.
- I wouldn't.
- Oh, you're mad. Maybe not him.
You're only young. You could
marry again, and you should.
Would you feck off?
What hero would take on seven children?
Ah, you need a man.
You know, I thought I would need a man.
But I'll tell ya somethin'-- I don't.
D'you have any more of them organisms?
I knew you were going to ask me that.
I wish I never told you.
Ah, shut up. Well, did ya?
No. I'm givin' them up.
After two? Why?
Not feelin' so good since I had 'em.
I'm after gettin' a lump.
Where?
- There.
- On your diddy?
Agnes Browne, will ya keep
your feckin' voice down?
- What did Dr. Carson say it was?
- What?
Dr. feckin' Carson. What did he say?
- I didn't go to him yet.
- Why not?
Because if it's on account of them organisms,
I'd be scarlet with embarrassment.
Will you not be stupid?
I am not being stupid.
- Ya are.
- I am not.
That's none of your business anyway.
Ya make me sick
sometimes, Agnes Browne.
Do you know that?
You always know it all.
Well, it's my diddy,
and it's my business!
Fair enough.
Keep your diddies to yourself.
Know all!
And what are youse looking at?
Good morning, God.
It's me, Marion.
- Tuppence, please, love.
- There you are.
Thanks.
Annie, where's Marion gone?
Up to Dr. Carson's.
Annie, would you mind
keepin' an eye for an hour?
Ah, Agnes, I'm already minding Marion's stall.
I'm not on fuckin' skates.
Ah, Please, Annie?
Well, go on then.
Agnes. Here.
How are ya?
Grand.
What'd they do to ya?
They performed...
a lumpectomy...
and a cervical biopsy.
Well, you look marvelous.
I think they cured ya.
They're only tests, Agnes.
Oh.
- Do you know what they done to me?
- What?
- They shaved me.
- Where?
- Down there?
- For feck's sake!
Sorry.
Give us a look.
I will not.
Give us a look.
No!
Oh, Marion Monks, I'm your friend.
- Go away.
- Give us a look.
No.
- Come on. Give us a look.
- No.
Oh, Jesus, Marion! You know what?
It suits ya.
- Good man, Mark.
- Here.
I have lots more sawdust
where that came from.
Great, son. I'll see you again.
There you go, lad.
Thanks very much. See ya next week.
- Hey, Mr. Aherne.
- How ya doin'?
- Bring me back those sacks, and I'll give you sixpence.
- All right.
- There's a lot of sawdust.
- Yep.
- You must be very busy.
- Yep. Unfortunately, I am.
- What is it you're making?
- What I make...
the maker doesn't want it,
the buyer never uses it,
the user never sees it.
- What is it?
- Uh, a coffin.
You're mad.
- Carpentry. That's a trade, isn't it?
- Yep.
- Ow!
- Get away!
Smelly bitch, ya.
Apples! Get your apples!
Four for a shilling!
Just one, please.
- Five for a shilling.
- Very fresh.
Five for a shilling. Bananas.
- Frankie.
- Bananas. Fresh bananas.
Five for a shilling. Bananas.
Five for a shilling. Bananas.
Marion, you're out!
Of course I am. It was only tests.
Agnes, you're a darlin'.
No problems?
Why would I have problems minding
your measly little stall?
So, tell us, how'd you get on?
- Grand.
- What does grand mean?
The doctor said no need
for any further tests.
That's what he said, "No need."
Isn't that great?
Ah, Marion, it's fuckin' wonderful.
It's fuckin' wonderful.
Well, Mrs. Monks, I have good news as well.
Have ya? And what is it?
This is the last Friday
I'll be paying off Mr. Billy.
What? How?
You got your widow's pension!
- Yeah. And backdated.
- Ah!
- There you are. That's for you, love.
- Oh, thank you.
- I wish you the best of luck. Bye.
- Thank you.
For the grand opening.
Six for a shilling, the bananas.
Thanks very much.
Go and buy yourselves
some ice creams, all right?
Frankie, take Trevor home.
Take him home, all right?
- For you.
- Oh, thanks.
Well, just to say hello to my new neighbor,
you know?
- Thank you very much.
- You're very welcome.
Good luck with the opening.
Oh, thank you.
Hello, hello.
He likes you.
Don't be stupid. I'm sure he's just
being friendly, that's all.
Oh, is that all? What did he give you?
This.
Well, all he gave me was this.
Tommo could do better than that.
Sorry to interrupt your fun, ladies.
Have you got something for me, missus?
Yes, I do, Mr. Billy.
- That's two pound.
- Thanks.
And the 40 I owed you.
That's 42.
There's way too much there, love.
It's all there, Mr. Billy.
I just want the two pound.
That's the deal.
That was the deal.
But now I'm paying it back. All of it.
I've already given you the
16 pound in interest,
and now you're all paid up in a lump sum.
I'm finished.
You're finished, all right.
Don't you ever ask me for a loan again.
Oh, I won't. Ever.
I wanna play.
You have no money.
Yeah, I do.
I just paid off Mr. Billy.
Fair play.
Thanks.
Mam, I've got a trade.
Only, I need 10 pound for tools.
I can give him some of my
tools that I'm not usin',
but, uh, he will have to have his own.
I haven't got--Here, Agnes.
- Thanks, Marion.
- Here, love.
- Take it.
- Thanks, Winnie.
- Take that, Agnes.
- Give it back when you have it, love.
And there's no interest.
Here, Mark. Go buy your tools.
Thanks, Mam. Thanks, everyone.
Bye, Mam.
Ah, shite. Oh!
Do you know, you were right, Agnes.
- What?
- I'm goin' to pay the bollocks off as well.
Ah, you're grand, Winnie.
- Marion, imagine Mark with a trade.
- I know.
Seems like only yesterday
I was changing his nappy.
Excuse me.
- Yes, missus?
- These bananas look awfully pale.
Yeah, well, they had a rough sailin'
comin' from Jamaica.
I'm gettin' them sunlamps at the weekend.
Hey, Winnie, let's check them stalls.
See you in a minute, Agnes.
- Right.
- My stall is closed.
- Winnie.
- Right.
Your man looks like he's making his move.
- I hope so.
- I thought you didn't like him.
Yeah, well, she needs someone.
- Hello.
- Hello.
Agnes, I would like to ask you for a date.
A date?
What do you mean a date?
He means a date.
You know, two people going
to the same place together?
Right.
Well?
Um, when?
Saturday. For dinner.
Ah, no. Saturday, I can't.
I have to bath the kids.
Don't be silly. I'll bath the kids.
I'll be glad of a night with them.
What time, Pierre, love?
8:00?
Where?
Let's meet in Foley's,
but I will take you somewhere--
very, very beautiful for dinner.
All right.
Good.
So--
until Saturday then.
All right.
Good-bye, Agnes Browne.
Bye.
♪ It's not unusual to go out at anytime ♪
Marion Monks, you go and shite.
Yoo-hoo!
I hate youse, so you can feck off!
Bitches.
I want me money now.
I swear it, Mr. Billy. I swear it.
- I swear it.
- I'll be seeing you, ma'am. Micko.
- Bad luck, son?
- No. Just no money.
Here you go. Look.
Back in the game, son.
Jesus!
No, thanks, Mr. Billy.
Betcha.
It's only a loan, son.
You pay me back with your winnings, yeah?
Yeah. Plenty more where that come from, son.
You only need to ask. Go on with ya. Go on.
♪ Let's pretend that we're together ♪
♪ All alone ♪♪
- You know what, Mammy?
- What, love?
When they kiss you, Frenchmen do lick your teeth.
Don't be so disgusting, you.
Who told you that?
Mary Dowdall.
Mary Dowdall has too much to say for herself.
♪ He'll have to go ♪
Mammy's got a date with the Frenchman.
A date? Mammies don't go on dates.
Yeah, they do. How do you think
Mam met Da, stupid?
- At the dog racing.
- Shut up, Dermot.
Go on, Mark. So Mammy has a date. So what?
It's only Frankie.
So, Mammy has nothing to wear for the date.
But I seen her look at a frock in Clerys.
It's dear though.
- How much dear is it?
- Eleven pound.
- Eleven pound-- is that dear?
- What? That's very dear.
That's more dearer than a bike.
- Anyway, we can get it for her.
- How?
Well, Mr. Aherne said he'd pay me in
advance for the next 12 weeks.
That's four pound.
I have 10 bob coming in from
the milk and paper round.
That's four pound, 10 bob.
We have four crates of lemonade
bottles collected.
You can have them. That's... 10 bob.
See? That's five pound already.
- I have nothin'.
- Me neither.
- How much are ya short?
- Six pound.
I can get that.
How?
Do ya want it or not? Do ya?
- How's it look?
- All right, boys, here it is.
Oh, Jesus.
Oh, yeah, that's the right one.
Good night, girls.
- Good night, Agnes.
- Night, Agnes.
Good night, Peg.
Good night, girls.
Jesus, Tommo.
Jesus love ya when you get home
to Marion in that state.
Aggie?
Oh, Jesus, Aggie.
What? What's wrong with you?
It's Marion.
She-She's not well, Aggie.
Well, of course, she's not, Tommo.
Sure, any sort of surgery
will take it outta ya.
Will ya get a grip, Tommo?
Sobbin' like a big sissy.
It's not the end of the world.
It is for me, Agnes.
Jesus, Tommo.
What's the story?
Six months. Probably less.
- Hello.
- Look. Look.
Look at that.
Shilling a pound. Last of the hard tomatoes.
- What are you looking at?
- You. I thought, after your tests and all,
you might want to take some time off.
I will when I need it.
- Get the tent for the kids?
- What?
- For the trip.
- Oh, shite!
Come on. Come on. On the bus now.
All of you, on the bus.
Quick as you can. Quick as you can.
Mr. Rowan, thanks very much for coming.
Now everybody on the bus.
Look, if your mother's not here
in five minutes with that tent,
we'll have to go without ya.
- Now, Father.
- She knew about this weeks ago.
It's not her fault, Father.
Old Porter from the market said
he'd get us an ex-army tent,
but got drunk and forgot about it.
- There she is! Mammy!
- Oh, here she is.
- Here, Mark. I got ya a new one.
- A new one?
- Yeah, brand-new.
- Thanks, Mam.
- Good-bye, pet.
- Bye.
If you're absolutely ready now,
Mrs. Browne. Thank you.
Come on. On the bus.
Stop messin' in there. Come on.
Bye, kids!
Surely, Marion, that tent was a bargain.
Do you know what, Marion?
You and me should have a day out.
Come on. Let's just jump on the
feckin' bus and have a day out.
- Really. Let's.
- Fuck it.
- But I get the window seat.
- Come on.
♪ My Bonnie lies o'er the ocean ♪
♪ My Bonnie lies o'er the sea ♪
♪ My Bonnie lies o'er the ocean ♪
♪ Bring back my Bonnie to me ♪
♪ So bring back
What's he got?
♪ Bring back
♪ Oh, bring back my Bonnie to me ♪
♪ Yeah, bring back
♪ Bring back
♪ Come on, bring back my Bonnie to me ♪♪
- What a fabulous day.
- We should have done this years ago.
Too true, Marion.
Jesus, too true.
- Agnes?
- What?
Do you know what I'd love to do
someday before I die?
- What's the matter? Are you all right?
- No, nothin'.
I'm fine.
What, Marion?
What would you like to do?
I'd love to learn to drive a car.
Will ya not be ridiculous?
Why would you learn to drive
when you don't have a car?
You don't hear me complaining
when you buy a bra, do ya?
Mmm.
No, but I'm serious.
I asked in the driving school
on Talbot Street,
and it's nine pounds for 15 lessons.
- What do you think?
- I think you're mad.
- It's me dream.
- Well, get a cheaper dream.
You're a dreamer.
Yeah, but at least mine are more realistic.
Mind ya, none of them come true.
Like what?
Like I was hoping to get a couple of
tickets to the Tom Jones concert.
By the time I had enough money,
they were all gone.
- Sold out.
- Mmm.
Oh, Marion.
You're too good.
Will ya come with me to the concert, Marion?
Will ya?
Sure, don't you know, I'll be there.
Aren't I always there when
you're having a good time?
I'll tell you something, Agnes.
We're here for a good time,
not a long time.
And havin' a friend like you
is as good as it gets.
Now will ya shut up, for fuck's sake?
You're ruining me day out.
- Here we are!
- Here we are, girls!
Mam?
- Mam?
- What?
What's that?
- A surprise frock.
- Rory!
- What's this?
- Present.
Help me open it?
- Yeah.
- All right.
Oh, Mark.
We all chipped in, Mam.
Thanks.
I love it.
Yoo-hoo! Where is she?
We'll give this Frenchy boy
a run for his money.
Right. Let's take off the cucumber.
You're lucky she sliced it first.
♪ It's not unusual to be loved by anyone ♪
I don't know what you're laughing at, Winnie.
You're used to radishes.
- Open your eyes, Agnes.
- What's that?
It's orange juice for your eyes.
It'll make 'em sparkle. Lean back.
Ah, Jesus, Marion!
I've gone blind!
Let's see.
Oh, my God, you'd better
wear sunglasses, Agnes.
♪ It's not unusual to go out at anytime ♪
- Oh, you're gorgeous.
- Don't touch me feckin' frock.
- Mammy, you're beautiful.
- Wow!
♪ If you should want to be loved by anyone ♪
♪ It's not unusual, It happens every day ♪♪
- See youse later.
- Have a great time.
- See you, Mammy.
- Enjoy yourself.
- Have a good time, love.
- Bye.
Mammy lovely.
Don't start.
- Hello, Mr. Foley.
- Evening, Agnes.
Hey, Elvis.
Priscilla's in the snug.
Agnes Browne, you're a vision of heaven.
What did he say?
- She's a vision of heaven.
- Oh, yes.
I would walk barefooted across the desert...
to see such beauty as you are tonight.
Now what did he say?
He would walk on his bare--
Ah! He's fuckin' mad about her.
Madame, your carriage awaits.
For the kids.
It's a sight, isn't it?
It's very beautiful, like you.
Thanks. It was a great night out.
For me too.
- Good night.
- Don't go.
...with his tongue, and it felt like a
hot sardine wriggling in me mouth.
Felt kinda nice though.
Oh, Jesus, Agnes.
I wonder if a Frenchy organism's any
different from a Tommo one.
Will ya feck off?
Oh, look, there's Dermot Flynn.
I ain't seen him since they moved.
Of course, when you can drive,
you can live anywhere.
I've been thinking about that, Marion.
About what?
About what you said, about learning to drive.
Oh, that? I forgot about that.
What about it?
You're right.
Am I, Agnes? You really think so?
Yeah, yeah. Go on. Do it.
I'm delighted you agree with it.
The man at the driving school
said he could take us...
in a couple of weeks for the first one.
Lovely.
- What do you mean "us"?
- Us. You and me.
I'm not gettin' into a car on me own
with a stranger.
I'm not gettin' in with ya.
Who'll be driving?
I will.
You can feck off. I'm not going to be
your first victim.
Ah, you'll be all right, Agnes.
The car has controls on his side as well.
It's bisexual.
- No.
- Ah, please, Agnes.
No.
No, no. Ah, no, Marion.
You all right?
Never mind about me.
You watch the feckin' road.
If I'd known you'd be like this,
I wouldn't have let you come.
Let me come?
Watch it. Here's the constructor.
What's he doing?
He knows we're from the Jarrow.
He's countin' the wheels.
Oh, he doesn't like this.
He wants a wank.
Open the window.
- What's he saying?
- He wants to know if you're a widow.
- No, I'm married.
- Wind the knob.
- What's he saying?
- Something about his knob.
- He does want a wank.
- Pre-vert.
I need to check the brake lights.
Would you like to press the brake pedal?
That is the accelerator, Mrs. Monks.
- The middle one.
- Oh.
Thank you.
Jesus, Would you look at the head on him.
He looks like a big penis.
Oh, stop, Agnes.
I'll start laughing again.
Go on, ask him his name.
I bet you it's Dick.
Go on. I bet ya.
Right, Mrs. Monks.
Oh, do call me Marion.
Okay, Marion.
And, um, what's your name?
- Tom.
- Oh.
Tom O'Toole.
You're drunk, both of ya.
We are not. Are we, Marion?
Marion?
Marion? Marion!
Marion. Marion.
Come out. Come out.
Excuse me. Even if the lesson is canceled,
I still have to be paid.
Call an ambulance now!
There, there. There, there.
Oh, no. Marion, Marion, Marion.
No. There, there. There, there.
We'll pray for her soul.
Ah, no.
We're on our own now, Aggie.
Yeah.
Agnes?
Agnes. Come on.
Get off me. Get off.
Agnes.
Agnes, please. Let me lead you home.
I don't need anyone to lead me home.
Here, hold this.
It's the last rose
♪ Of summer
♪ Left blooming alone
♪ All her lovely companions
♪ Are faded
Hello, Marion.
It's me-- Agnes.
♪ No flower
♪ Of her kindred
♪ No rosebud
♪ Is nigh
♪ Oh, who would inhabit
What?
Nothing. I said nothing.
♪ World alone ♪
Are you all right, you?
Are you walkin' me home, or what?
- I'll punch you now, so help me.
- Ow! Ow!
- I said walk faster.
- Don't.
- Huh?
- Oh, please.
Here he is, Mr. Billy.
I'm disappointed in you, son.
I'll pay you back, Mr. Billy.
I swear I will.
Of course you will. Everybody does.
Now, then. Frankie Browne.
Frankie Browne. Ah, there you go.
Ten pound.
Ten? I only borrowed six.
- Interest.
- Interest?
- I'm not a charity, am I, Micko?
- Nope. No charity, Mr. Billy.
I'll get it. Only please give me time, Mr. Billy.
I could always go and see your Mammy Browne.
She'll pay me up right.
No, I'll get it. I will. Please.
I'm a reasonable man, Frankie.
I'll tell ya what, um--
I'll give you till Christmas week-- the 22nd.
That suit ya?
Don't let me down, son.
No, Mr. Billy.
Frankie! You thievin' bastard!
You bastard! I'll kill ya! I'll kill ya!
- Stop it! You'll kill nobody.
- Thievin' bastard!
I'll kill him!
- Youse are family, for Christ's sake!
- Come on then!
Youse are family! Families don't
fight each other!
They protect each other.
Go on. Go on to bed. Go on.
What's this?
What's this about, Frankie?
Mammy, I'm in big trouble.
I borrowed money off Mr. Billy.
Jesus.
Him and Micko are after me.
He said he'd give me till the 22nd.
I'm sorry.
Oh, Frankie.
I'm gonna have to sell the Tom Jones
tickets, Marion,
unless I get a miracle by 3:00 today.
So, would you do us a favor, Marion?
Would you ask God to drop a 50-pound
note in me purse?
I didn't think so.
Feller over there thinks I'm crazy, Marion.
See you next week.
Anyone buyin' or sellin' tickets?
Anyone buyin' or sellin' tickets?
Wally, how much for two Tom Jones?
A fiver.
Here, Wally. Give us six.
Thanks, Wally.
Thanks all the same, Marion.
That's only half what the kid owes me.
You're Agnes Browne.
You pay by the lump sum.
I want me money, all of it, by tomorrow.
I won't have it.
Then I'll clear every stick from your little kip.
Now good-bye, Mrs. Lump Sum.
Why do you always show up when I'm cryin'?
So Mr. Billy will take all your furniture?
Ah, it's not so bad.
You can always find somethin' to sit on.
Here.
Come here.
I waited 20 years for my husband to come through.
Then it took only about two months with Marion...
to realize I'd lived without a best friend me whole life.
So, I'm sorry, Pierre.
I can't go back to being dependent on any man.
All I have now is me kids.
I have to make sure they grow up right.
Frankie has to learn there are consequences.
I don't want another Redser around me.
Marion is your guardian angel, Agnes.
Yeah?
Yes. So, can I just be your best friend?
Tom Jones arrived
to huge crowds today...
at the Shelbourne Hotel before--
- Here, Cathy.
- I'm sorry, Mam.
That's all right, love.
- It's just a few tables and chairs.
- Where's your wedding ring?
You can't eat a wedding ring, Frankie.
Never forget that.
- What time's Mr. Billy comin'?
- In a couple hours.
- Everyone on the street's gonna be laughin' at us.
- Da would have stopped him.
Ma, will we stop them for ya?
No. Youse are doing things my way
till youse are men.
Mark's taking you off to Tommo's.
- And no fightin'.
- Is that footsteps?
- Don't let them in here.
- Sit down, Frankie!
- Get out of my way!
- Sit down!
Stop it!
It's only a letter.
It's probably another bill.
What is it, Mam?
- Mam, what's wrong?
- What is it?
Thank you, God. Thank you, Redser.
Thank you, Marion.
Mam, what-- What is it, Mam?
It's £25.
- From who?
- Mam, that's great!
From your da's union.
Come on. Let's go.
Let's go get it!
Excuse me.
- There you go.
- We've no money.
That's all right. They're free.
Mr. O'Dwyer will be with you in a moment, okay?
Okay.
- Hey, Marko, look. Lifts. Will we have a go?
- No.
- You would like to go on a lift, wouldn't you, Rory?
- Mm-hmm.
- You're early!
- No, you're late.
Mark Browne?
- Yeah, that's me.
- Where's your mother?
She couldn't come, but she sent me instead.
No way can I give 25 pounds to a bunch of children.
Mister, did you know my daddy?
No, I don't know any of the kitchen porters.
- Well, he knew you.
- Did he now? Good.
And he said you're a bollocks.
- Hey!
- This way!
- Stop! Stop them!
- Wait for me!
- Wait up!
- Press it!
Get those brats! Gerry, you got the lower.
Trevor, up the stairs! After them!
- Make it stop.
- I'm trying. I'm trying. It just won't stop.
- It's Tom Jones.
- Tom Jones.
So what do we got here then, Don?
Is it you? Tom Jones?
We just came to collect the
money for Mam 'cause Da died.
But then Mam couldn't get a ticket.
But then Marion got two.
So-- But then Marion died.
Wait, wait, wait. Slow down. Start again.
- Our da got killed by a car.
- He's gone to heaven.
Yeah.
No! No! No!
It's all shite anyways!
No! It's ourshite.
No, not the tools!
I don't know what's happened to them.
They'll be back soon, I swear!
Don't... set me off!
Don't!
Come on, Micko. Let's get the van.
Oh, and, uh--
Mrs. Lump Sum,
Don't let me have to kick the fuckin' door down.
Right!
No! Stand back.
This way, Mr. Jones! Mr. Jones! Please.
Run! Run for it! Go! Get out of here!
- Stop!
- Run!
Why didn't you run?
We're the Brownes. We stick together.
What's this, a fuckin' parade?
Right. I've had enough of this shite.
Jesus!
Mark said you were a fan.
Tom?
Jesus, come in.
Go for a spin. Oh.
Excuse you.
- Who owns the car?
- Tom Jones.
- What?
- He's up there with Agnes.
Look at him though.
Will ya fuck off.
Here they come.
Ho-How are you, Tom?
"Mr. Jones" to you.
- Tom, would you excuse me a minute?
- Sure.
There's your money.
What about me interest?
There's your interest!
Come on, get away!
- All right. Easy, lads. Easy.
- You back off.
Don't you ever go near my mammy again!
Tom Jones: You know, sometimes I believe...
that this turbulent, busy, tragic and
sad world turns on its head...
and comes to a complete stop
to accommodate somebody's dream.
Well, this next song is for a dreamer.
Dream on, Agnes Browne.
Dream on. For all our sakes, dream on.
♪ Well, she's all you'd ever want ♪
♪ She's the kind I'd like to flaunt ♪
♪ And take to dinner
♪ But she always knows her place ♪
♪ She's got style, She's got grace ♪
♪ She's a winner
♪ She's a lady
♪ Whoa, whoa, whoa, She's a lady ♪
♪ Talking about that little lady ♪
♪ And the lady is mine
♪ She's never in the way,
Always something nice to say ♪
♪ And what a blessing
♪ I can leave her on her own ♪
♪ Knowin' she's okay alone and there's no messin' ♪
♪ She's a lady
♪ Whoa, whoa, whoa She's a lady ♪
♪ Talkin' about that little lady ♪
♪ And the lady is mine
♪ Yeah, yeah, yeah, She's a lady ♪
♪ Whoa, whoa, whoa, She's a lady ♪♪