An Angel at My Table (1990) - full transcript

Come on. Come on, darling.

Come on. Come, come, come,
come, come. Come on.

Ahh.

Ah, lovely. Come on. Come on.

Bit further. Come on. Come on.

This is the story of my childhood.

In August, 1924,
I was born Janet Paterson Frame.

My twin, who was never named

died two weeks later.

"Sea... cliff."

That's where all the loonies go.



Go away from the window.
Go back to your seats, Myrtle and Bruddie.

Go on.

- Come on.
- Margaret.

Come on, Jean.

Peter.

- I'll be your friend.
- Please? Please?

Betty.

- Come on, Jean.
- Peter.

- Come on, Jean.
- Olive.

Billy Delaware.

Yes, Miss Botting?

What are you eating?

Chewing gum, Miss Botting.

Where did you get it?



Dids McIvor.

Where did you get your chewing gum?

From Jean Frame, Miss Botting.

Jean Frame.

Yes, Miss Botting?

Where did you get the chewing gum?

From Heath's, Miss Botting.

Where did you get the money?

Out!

My father gave it to me.

Where did you get the money?

- Collect!
- My father - My father gave it to me.

Come out here.

Come up here.

Now tell me

where you got the money.

I want... the truth.

Dad gave it to me.

Face the blackboard.

Now...

you will stay there

until you tell me the truth.

Turn around, Jean Frame.

Are you ready to tell me the truth?

I stole it out of Dad's pocket.

Go to the back of the class.

She's a thief!

Thief. She's a thief.

You're a thief.

Turn.

Turn.

No, June,
you have to turn the same way as us.

Turn.

And turn.

And turn.

And turn.

He's having a convulsion!
He's having a convulsion, Curly!

Curly!

Go and have a look!

- What are you doing, woman?
- Putting him in the bath!

- What?
- In the bath!

What the hell for?

Curly? Curly?

- Put him in the bath!
- What?

- Put him in the bath!
- I'm not gonna put him in the bath.

The boy's just having a bad dream.

- Here's a towel.
- Oh, come on, woman! Why?

The book says so!

Wake up, boy!

Wake up!

You girls, back to bed!

Wake up!

That's it.

Wake up. Wake up!

Georgie Porgie's queer in the head!
Georgie Porgie's queer in the head!

Doesn't belong at this school anyway.

- You belong in the loony bin.
- Loony bin! Loony bin!

Back! Class, quiet, please!

I want those children
whose names Doctor calls -

Tom McKechnie, are you listening?

Yes, miss.

When you hear your names called,

I want you to fall out.

Ivor Thomas.

- Jimmy McGill.
- That's the one with the ears.

Jean Frame.

Nora Byrne.

Terrible family.

Now, the rest of you may go in quietly.

In your lines! Quietly!

Come on, folks, follow me.

Follow me.

Look.

When did you last wash?

- Yesterday.
- Really?

- I did wash yesterday.
- And what did you wash?

My hands.

Your ears are filthy.

Say after me whatever you hear
down the tube in a big, loud voice.

Twenty-nine. Seventeen.

Sixteen. Five.

I know how to cure warts.

- My real name isn't Poppy.
- What is it?

Marjorie.

- Is your name your real name?
- My real name's Janet.

Janet. That's pretty.

But I get called Jean mostly.

And Nini. And Topsy.

Is that because of your hair?

Yes.

- Can I touch it?
- Yes.

You can touch my legs if you like.

What are they?

They're from when my dad whops me
with his machine belt.

They feel funny, don't they?

Tell the class
we will now have a nail inspection.

Class, we are now going to have
a nail inspection.

Hands on desks.

- Very good.
- Very good.

Excellent.

- Bad.
- Disgusting.

Miss Frame,
collect up the naughty children.

Certainly, Miss Evans.

Very bad!

Is that Sally Oates again?

I'm afraid so, Miss Evans.

Well! Wicked child.

Fetch the strap.

Bad, bad, very bad.

This is my special book.

You can borrow it if you like.

"The Twelve Dancing Princesses.

There was a king who had
12 beautiful daughters...

and when they went to bed,

the doors were shut and locked up.

But every morning their shoes
were found to be quite worn through,

as if they had been danced in all night.

And yet nobody could find out
how it happened

or where they had been."

Mum says they come from a stork.

No. You have to fuck.

What's "fuck"?

When a man gets on top of a woman
and he puts his thing into her,

and he puts a frenchie on his thing
to stop her having a baby.

Pounds, shillings and pence!

A man fell over the fence!

He fell on a lady and squashed out a baby!

Pounds, shillings and pence!

Pounds, shillings and pence!

All right, tonight, for homework,
I want you to write a poem.

Copy this down.

When... the... sun...

goes... down...

Have you got that?

And... the... night...

draws...

- nigh.
- Yeah.

There. Thanks.

- That's the first line of your poem.
- Look. Look.

What's that?
Oh, I've got chalk all over me. So I have.

You got all that down? Good.

- What's that?
- It's a poem I wrote for school.

Read it to us.

"When the sun goes down
and the night draws nigh

and the evening shadows touch the sky -"

It should be
"Evening shadows tint the sky."

Why?

There are always words
that go together in poetry,

like waves lap, stars shine or twinkle,
and wind roars.

Rub out "touch" and put in "tint."

But I like "touch."

It sounds wrong.
"Evening shadows tint the sky."

Go on. Rub out "touch" and put in "tint."

It sounds more poetic.

No. Johnny. Uh, Jean, come on. Come on.

Come on, Jean. Up here.
In a big, loud voice. There we go.

"When the sun goes down
and the night draws nigh,

and the evening shadows touch the..."

"sky..."

"When the birds fly homeward
to their nest,

then we know it is time to...

"rest."

"When rabbits to their burrows run

and children have finished their daily..."

"fun."

"When the tiny stars come out to peep,

then we know it is time to..."

"sleep."

Thank you, Jean.

Well done. Well done.

Now, anybody else
like to read their poems?

- How's my little girl?
- What have you got?

Uh-uh. What hand?

This one.

This one.

Both.

Both?

There you are.

That's to write
some more of your poems in.

Myrtle and Ted did it
in the plannies this afternoon.

Did what?

Fucked.

I forbid you to ever speak
to Ted and Poppy

and any of that family ever again!

Do you understand?

And as for you, Myrtle -

Mother, where's the strap?

- Come here!
- No! Curly! Curly!

Curly!

Bend over!

I'm not allowed to speak to you
or play with you ever again.

I'm not allowed to speak to you neither.

Here's your special book.

Shh!

Shh!

Look out. There's dynamite down there.

Thank you. Next, please.

Look out! There's dynamite down there!

Next, please.

Look, there's Avril Luxton!

Thank you. Next.

Look out! There's dynamite down there!

Shh!

Look out! There's dynamite down there!

"I met at eve the Prince of Sleep.

His was a still and lovely face.

He wandered through a valley steep,

lovely in a lonely place.

His garb was gray of lavender.

Above his brow, a poppy wreath,

burned like dim coals,

and everywhere
the air was sweeter for his breath.

His twilight feet no sandals wore.

His eyes shone faint in their own flame.

Dim moths that gloomed his steps before

seemed letters of his lovely name."

- Congratulations, Susie.
- Thank you.

Jean Frame.

- Congratulations, Jean.
- Thank you.

Very good, Jean.

What's in the envelope?

I can go to the Athenaeum free.

Well done, girlie. Well done.

What's the Athenaeum?

Oh, thanks.

Zane Grey.

How wonderful, Nini.

"Thank you for the poems, Amber Butterfly.

I loved them very much, and I am making
'Song of the Butterfly' poem of the week.

I wonder, though, if crocuses,
even poetically,

dream of the moons.

Write again next week, and do not mind
my friendly criticism. Dot."

♪ Somebody came and took her away ♪

♪ She didn't even say she was leavin' ♪

Dad won't let you wear those.

He can't stop me. They're my wages.

♪ And gee, I know that she'd ♪

♪ Come back to me ♪

♪ If she could see ♪

♪ The brokenhearted lover ♪

I have to be at the studio at 6:00 sharp.

- Okay?
- Okay, chief.

♪ Somebody stole my gal ♪

Is Johnny going to pick you up?

I suppose so.

♪ Somebody stole my gal ♪

"Then quickly rose Sir Bedivere and ran

and leaping down the ridges lightly,

plunged among the bulrush beds
and clasped the sword

and strongly wheeled and threw it.

The great brand made lightnings
in the splendor of the moon

and flashing round and round

and whirled in an arc,

shot like a streamer
from the northern morn.

So flashed and fell the brand Excalibur.

But ere he dipped the surface,

rose an arm,

clad in white samite -

mystic, wonderful -

and caught him by the hilt

and brandished him three times

and drew him under

in the mere."

Girls, in your red book,

turn to page 139.

I'm really Spanish, of course...

and I'm Roman Catholic.

What are you?

Our mother's a Christadelphian.

That's a lover of Christ.

Oh, well, the nuns in my church
are the brides of Christ,

and they have to wear his wedding ring.

Do you want to see me do a Spanish dance?

Yes, please.

¡Olé!

¡Olé!

And this is the sitting room.

Are you allowed
to jump on your Chesterfield?

That's the king's sofa.

I'm getting confirmed soon.

I'm having a whole new ensemble -
all white, even the shoes.

And I get to wear
this little white veil...

and carry a little white prayer book.

Isabel!

We don't normally sit in here.

She called her desk an escritoire.

Escritoire?

That's what I said.

It's from escrit -to write - in French.

¡Olé!

¡Olé!

Ooh!

She's got the best bosom.

Mmm. I wouldn't give her
full marks for deportment, though.

She's got the most developed figure.

Mmm, no.

- Sexy!
- Ooh-la-la!

I'll show you how I do the turn.

Ooh, that was good. Do it again.

Very fancy!

Nice legs!

Uh, to your left a bit.
No, no, the other way.

No, no, no, no! Your left!

The other way!

- You don't want me in this one.
- Come on. You ready?

Okay, everyone say...

- cheese.
- Cheese!

Oh, look. There's Dad.

Oh!

Ooh, look, Jean.
You've got a titty showing.

- Put that way.
- Titty, titty. Titty, titty, titty.

- Where's Myrtle?
- Myrtle's not there.

Where?

- Coming to the baths?
- I have to get ready for school.

We could go swimming...

and then go downtown and look at the boys.

- Watch out!
- Coming?

No. I want to do this.

Ooh! Aunt Polly's only put in two pleats!

How original!

Oh, come on, Nini.
Come to the baths with us.

- You don't want to work.
- I do.

You're so boring.

- Come on, Isabel.
- I'm coming.

Whoo! Whoo! Whoo!

Nothing today, thank you.

Nothing today, thank you.

Send that child away.

I'm a doctor.

I've come to tell you
about your daughter Myrtle.

She's drowned at the baths.

They've taken her body to the morgue.

Is there anybody I can contact for you?

They've taken her to the morgue.

Come on.

Is it Myrtle?

Yes.

- What are you putting in the water?
- Aspro.

It won't bring her back, Jean.

I know that. But the aspros
make the flowers last longer.

Come on.

- That's very nice, isn't it?
- It's quite excellent.

They had to make her a new arm.

For goodness' sake.

The photographer took her
out of a picture with the other kiddies

and gave her a new arm here.

Oh, you couldn't tell.

It must be a comfort to you, Lottie,
to have such a recent one.

Oh, it is, yes.

She looks so lovely.

- Oh, she was a beautiful girl.
- Yes.

She's always smiling.

"Till of a sudden

maybe killed, unknown to her mate.

One forenoon the she-bird crouched

not on the nest.

Nor returned that afternoon,
nor the next -"

Jean, is that about Myrtle?

"Nor ever appeared again.

Whichever way I turn,

oh, I think you could
give me my mate back again

if only you would.

For I am almost sure I see her dimly
whichever way I look."

- Hello, Jean.
- Hello, Poppy.

Do you know I'm doing Commercial?

Yes.

I'm doing shorthand, typing
and double-entry bookkeeping.

Do you like Commercial?

Except for all the grammalogues.

We're always doing grammalogues.

We're doing "Ode to a Nightingale" too.

"Thou wast not born for death,
immortal bird.

No hungry generations tread thee down.

The voice I heard this passing night...

was heard in ancient days
by emperor and clown."

We have to learn it by heart
for next Tuesday.

- I have to go.
- All right.

- Bye then.
- Bye.

Shirley.

Shirley!

What a dreamer you are, Shirley.

Always lost in the poetic world
of your imagination.

♪ Thou holy art ♪

♪ In many ♪

♪ An hour of sadness ♪

♪ When life's hard toil ♪

♪ My spirit hath oppressed ♪

♪ Hast thou ♪

♪ My heart ♪

♪ Revived ♪

♪ With love and gladness ♪

- ♪ And borne my soul ♪
- Shirley's leaving. Her mother died.

♪ Above to realms ♪

♪ Of rest ♪

♪ And borne my soul off ♪

♪ To realms of rest ♪

Come on, girl.

Come on. That's a good girl.

Good girl.

Dearest Mr. Ardenue,

today I wept in class
when we read "The Scholar Gypsy."

He is my ideal man.

I have made up my mind
not to be a teacher.

I'm going to be a poet.

Mum!

Mum! There's blood between my legs!

Come on.
Let's get you out of that nightie.

I suppose you've mucked the sheets up
as well.

Now, take one end, and you pin it
to the front of your singlet.

Here. Turn round.

That's it. Like that.

Put it between your legs. That's it.

And then you pin the other end
to the back of the singlet.

Now, you do this first, and then you pull
your clean knickers up over the top.

- It will show.
- No, it won't.

Everyone will see!

Be thankful you started at 15.
Others start at 12.

I'll get you some clean knickers.

For your homework this evening,

I'd like you to continue
working on your projects

on photosynthesis.

Any problems, go to your chemistry books,

page 164, chapter 18.

That's it for today.

Carry on, girls.

Put your chairs in. Thank you.

- Okay. Bye.
- Bye!

Well, why don't we - You know.

Yeah, okay.

Hi, fuzzy.

You know,
you should do something about your hair.

You could get it straightened.

Or clip it to make it stay flat.

Or oil it or something.

I've never really seen hair like this.

- Look.
- Oh, well. Hmm.

Oh, that's great! Where did you get that?

Ohh!

No, but -

- Hey!
- Shh!

My brother says
that Karl Marx is the only rational,

scientific thinker
of the last two centuries.

William's got a lovely personality.

I saw him at the train station
the other day.

And I dropped my glove, and he came up
and he gave it back to me.

Such a gentleman!

He's like a movie star.

Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers,
they've got lovely personalities.

- And it comes out in their style.
- It does, doesn't it?

How many times
do I have to tell you?

He doesn't have to have fits!
He could stop them if he tried!

You don't even care!

Now look what you've done!
You're going to stop this!

Corporal Frame, National Reserve,
at your service.

- They've put Bruddie in the Home Guard.
- Oh, we'll show Hitler!

- We'll show Hitler!
- We'll show him!

Come on, son. Hup! Hup!

By the left, left, march! Left, march!

- Hup! Hup! Hup! Hup!
- Hup! Hup! Hup! Hup!

Look out, Hitler!

♪ It's a long way to Taumarunui ♪

♪ It's a long way to go ♪

Left, march! Left, march!

Left, march! Left, march! Hup! Hup!

Left, right, left, right!

Life is sweet, Jasper.

There's day and night, Jasper.
Both sweet things.

There's sun, moon and stars, brother,
all sweet things.

There's likewise a wind on the heath.

Who would wish to die?

Blah, blah, blah.

Three skirts, three blouses,

two day dresses -
one winter white, one summer white -

one special occasion dress,

two jerseys or cardigans,

one pair court shoes,
one pair walking shoes.

And that's apart from
all the underwear and night clothes.

I found Grandpa's old dressing gown!

No, Chicks, no.

♪ Two sisters back in our town ♪

♪ Were feeling sorry and blue ♪

- Hello, Fuzz.
- Oh, hello, Fuzz.

♪ The army took their boys away ♪

♪ What else was there to do? ♪

♪ They called up the sergeant
Called up the captain ♪

♪ Called up the major too ♪

♪ And they asked
What right had the army ♪

♪ To be making them so blue ♪

Hello, Jean.

I believe it's training college
for you next year, Jean.

Well, I still have to go for my interview.

Oh, I'm sure you'll be successful.

- ♪ In the land of the free ♪
- Do you like music, Jean?

Oh, yes.

- ♪ We're gonna take a short vacation ♪
- I like Schubert.

Yes, he's one of my favorites, too.

So emotional.

♪ They'll regret it, no doubt ♪

Well, I think I'll mix.

♪ She gets a letter ♪

♪ She's feeling better ♪

♪ He's coming home on leave ♪

♪ So we'll string along with the army ♪

♪ In the fight for victory ♪

Pretty face! Pretty face! Pretty face!

Don't work too hard. Have a nice time.

- You all right?
- It is a bit of a wedge, isn't it?

Bye! See you!

You've got to write! Remember!

- Bye!
- Bye-bye.

George?

Jean has come to see you.

- This way.
- Huh?

Hello, Uncle George.

So, you're the one who's going
to be a teacher.

She'll be the first in the family.

There we are. Ooh, it's cold.

Yeah, but it's gonna be raining,
so I'll need the umbrella.

- Hi! Fuzzy!
- Well, hello, Fuzz.

- Isn't college fun?
- Oh, yes, isn't it!

I'm doing two subjects at university too.

- No!
- Oh, you're such a brain.

Do you want to come
and have a cup of coffee? Come on!

- We're going to the Silver Girl now.
- Oh, come on!

You know, Jean, you're welcome
to eat with me in the wee room.

Um, no, thank you, Aunt Isy.

I like to study while I eat.

You vegetarians, you eat like birds.

Come on. Come on.

Come on, sleepy.

Dear, have you got anything to burn?

Uh, no, thank you, Aunt Isy. I haven't.

"May I...

composed like them...

of Eros and of dust...

beleaguered by the same
negation and despair...

show an affirming flame."

There's Africa!

You.

That one's like a - like a -

Oh, it's phallic. Everything's phallic.

What's "phallic"?

It's from "phallus,"
the Latin for "penis."

Like a dong?

Oh, look. Even our knees are phallic.

You'll read Freud at college.

Oh, I can't wait to get there.

I'll be all alone.

Poor baby. All alone.

No.

You can have Jack when I'm gone.

We have coffee in the union after tutes.

And you should see Mr. Forrest.

- He's the psych lecturer.
- Mmm!

He's gorgeous!

He's like Ashley in Gone With the Wind!

Ashley! Ashley! Come to me, Ashley!

Ashley, I need you!

I'm not gonna share.

- There's enough room.
- What for? Midgets?

Hey.

See?

Try it.

She must be mad.

I'm gonna tell Mum.

Oh, no, don't say anything.

Why not? We paid.

But not very much.

Isabel, please!

She won them
for her highland dancin'.

They've never been opened. Look.

- Let's open one.
- No, we can't.

She won't know.

I suppose we could taste one.

Yes, let's taste one.

Give us a hand.

Got it.

Hello, little kitty.

You choose first.

Go on.

♪ With the cross of Jesus ♪

- ♪ Going on before ♪
- Mmm!

Mmm. It's not musty at all.

Mmm! You taste one.

We shouldn't be doing this.

I know. Go on.

Steve wants me to go all the way.

We nearly did it tonight.

We only just stopped in time.

This house is like a morgue.

What about your essay?

It's too late.
I'll do it tomorrow in the union.

Why don't you ever come in to the union?

Where do you go?

Too shy to mix...

too scared to enter the union building...

I was more and more alone.

My only romance
was in poetry and literature.

Hello.

Oh. I was just going, Mr. Forrest.

Oh, that's all right.
There's no rules about eating in here.

It's a bit smelly, though.

What do you think he does
with all that lanolin?

Maybe he rubs it on his thing.

Or maybe Aunt Isy rubs it on for him.

Shh!

- What's that?
- Aunt Isy.

Oh!

Hurry up.

Quick.

Hurry up! She's coming!

Here! Here, here, here, here, here!

By our good Lord.

You're just liars!

And thieves!

Telling your parents those untruths!

Stealing my trophies!

Wicked, wicked girls!

Wait.

Come on, Siggy! Come on!

Willowglen sat high on a hill.

It had belonged in turn
to various derelict families.

Now it was ours,
the first home we had owned.

Here we are.

They found out about me, Mum.

Ah, never mind, laddie.

- Not again.
- Curly!

Epilepsy's nothing to be ashamed of.

He can't even keep a job for two days.

- Two days!
- No!

What's the use?

Come down onto the flat
and sit in the sun.

One of these days
I'll come and sit in the sun.

- Why not now?
- I've too much to do.

No one's asking you to be a workhorse.

I worried about next year.

My clothes, money,

and where I would live
now Isabel wanted to share with friends.

How about a bit of Tchaikovsky?

Hello, Eunice, Mary.

What do you think of my tomato socks?

Lovely.

- Unusual.
- Unusual?

- And bright.
- Of course they're bright.

I love this bit there.

Miss Frame?

Oh, there you are.

Are you coming to morning tea?

Oh - Oh, uh, no. I'm a bit busy.

Oh. We never see you.

Maybe tomorrow.

Oh, you've made the room lovely.

So this was how it was,

face-to-face with the future.

Living apart from Isabel,

pretending that I was not alone

and that teaching was what
I'd longed to do all my life.

- Izzy! Isabel!
- What did they say?

- Izzy!
- Have you heard about the bomb?

- What bomb?
- They dropped a bomb on Japan!

They've killed millions of Japanese!

- It's a new kind of bomb!
- So have we won the war?

- Yes!
- Let's go tell the others!

Coming?

- Isabel, come on!
- Where did you hear it?

We have a very important visitor
with us today, Second Class.

I'd like you to say good morning
to our inspector, Mr. Niles.

Good morning, Mr. Niles.

Good morning, children. Good, thanks.

- And how are you, Miss Frame?
- Very well, thank you.

That's good. I'll sit at the back,
and you just carry on as normal.

Forget I'm here.

What's she doing?

Mr. Niles,
would you excuse me for a minute, please?

Certainly, Miss Frame.

What about teaching?

I've given it up.

I've got a doctor's certificate.

But you've always wanted to be a teacher.

- I'm going to be a writer.
- But how will you earn money?

- How will you live?
- I'll work here in the kitchen.

- I'll study psych at university.
- What about your scholarship?

What about Mum and Dad?

I can't believe it.

I really enjoyed your autobiography,
Janet.

It's very natural.
It's got a nice flow to it.

The others were all so stiff and serious.

You've got a real talent for writing.

I've had a story published
in The Listener.

Oh. So I'm not wrong then.

You must have had difficulty
swallowing all those aspros.

No. I - I just drank them with water.
It wasn't hard.

They just went down.

"You have a real talent for writing."

"You have a real talent for writing."

- Janet.
- Yes?

Three men from the university to see you.

Ah.

- Hello, Janet.
- Evening, Janet.

- Hello, Janet.
- Hello.

Uh, Mr. Forrest has been telling me

that, uh, you haven't been
feeling all that well lately,

and, well, we thought
that you might like a little rest.

Oh. N-No, I'm fine now, thank you.

Well, it wouldn't be for long. Just, uh -

Well, just have a little rest
and let us look after you for a while.

Really, I'm all right.

John would come to visit you.
Wouldn't you, John?

Of course I would, yeah.

In hospital?

Well, yes,
we think it would be best for you.

- Do you think so?
- I do.

Come on, Nini.

I can't go home.

- Well, you can't stay here.
- No, I don't want to stay here.

Well, where can you go?

Look, after a holiday at home,
you'll be as good as new.

Go away!

- She's usually such a happy girl.
- Go away!

We'd better go.

Perhaps she just needs a little more rest.

- I had a little dog -
- And his name was -

Spot.

- I had a little dog -
- And his name was -

- Spot.
- I had a little dog -

- And his name was -
- Spot.

- I had a little dog, and his name was -
- Spot.

- I had a little dog -
- And his name was -

- Spot.
- I had a little dog -

- And his name was -
- Spot.

Here we go again.

Come back!

Here we go. Here we go.

Pits.

I've got schizophrenia.

What's that?

"Dementia praecox,
otherwise known as schizophrenia.

A gradual deterioration of the mind

with no cure."

Janet.

I've talked to a Mrs. Chandler
in Christchurch about your case.

She's very interested in you.

I think you'll like her too.

Do you mean I should go and see her?

I think you should.

I've shown your stories and poems
to Denis Glover of Caxton.

He's very impressed.

You know, Janet, when I think of you,
I think of van Gogh, Hugo Wolf.

Lots of artists have suffered
from schizophrenia.

Bruddie?

You should be the one going, Nini, not me.

Oh, no. I couldn't.

You'd be the best one.

Whoever goes, you've got to make sure
Mum has a lovely trip.

It's most of my money!

- No, it's not. It's mostly Janet's money.
- Yeah.

- No, it's not. I worked for it.
- I earn more money than you do.

Work for it? Huh.

Oh, dear, dear, dear. I don't know.

What don't you know?

Put your feet up.

- I'm all right.
- Come on.

There. You're on holidays, Mum.

Stop worrying. Poor old trotters.

It's mine!

Hello?

Yeah.

Yeah. Okay.

It's Isabel.

She drowned in Picton Harbour.

It's to stop her from smelling.

Bruddie.

Mum, your hair-it's white.

Oh, Curly!

A second one taken.

We just don't know what to say,

but call on us if you want any help,
we're here.

- We're sorry we didn't come to the church.
- Is Janet coming out?

We knew you had
closer family and friends,

and we kept in the background
for that reason.

Why don't you come out, Nini?

I comforted myself with writing...

yet I could not stay at Willowglen...

nor was there any escape
from the horror of my decayed teeth.

Hello. Come in.

- I'm Janet Frame.
- Oh.

John Forrest wrote to me about you.

Will you help me with my teeth?

Your teeth? I don't understand.

Oh, dear.

I'm afraid
you're gonna have to have those out.

Will you come with me?

Well, yes, I could.

After you've had your teeth seen to,

I'd like you to go to Sunnyside Hospital.

They have a new treatment there
which appears to be successful.

Is it curable?

With this new treatment,
yes, I think it may be.

Nurse?

You're a newie, aren't you?

Come on. Legs up.
That's the way. Get yourself comfy.

- Where are your teeth?
- I've just had them pulled out.

Ooh.

Have you eaten today?

Oh! Oops-a-day.

No! There's God! There's God!

- That's a good girl.
- There's God -

All right, Doctor.

Good morning. Well, then,
we know what this is all about.

Lie down. That's all right.

Legs down. Legs down.

- Nice and calm.
- Matron.

Yes. Close your eyes. Ready, Doctor?

Over the next eight years,

I received more than 200 applications
of electric shock treatment...

each one equivalent in fear
to an execution.

Hurry up!

- On the go.
- Come on. Hurry.

Are you all right?

I'm all right.

Hurry up.

I don't want to go while they're watching.

There's no one watching!

Come on, go!

- Miss Educated!
- Yeah.

There you are.

♪ Blue smoke ♪

♪ Goes drifting by ♪

♪ Into the deep blue sky ♪

♪ When I think of home ♪

♪ I sadly sigh ♪

♪ Oh, I can see you there ♪

♪ With loving tears in your eyes ♪

♪ As we fondly said ♪

♪ Our last good-byes ♪

♪ And as I sailed away ♪

♪ With a longing to stay ♪

♪ I promised to be true ♪

- I've got your books.
- Good work, Janet.

- Jolly good work.
- They've published them.

- Where's my photograph?
- That's not the important thing.

Wh-Where's my photograph?

The important thing
is that you're an author.

What do I do?

You sign it here...
on the inside front page.

- Is that what you do?
- Mmm.

Good. Next one.

They'll be worth a fortune one day, Janet.

Good.

Sit down.

We're putting you down
for that new operation.

What new operation?

You're going to have a leukotomy.

There's no need to be frightened.

It'll do you the world of good.

Do I have to have one?

It's not a question of "have to."
It's a question of what's best.

Your mother has agreed.
She signed the papers.

What do you think?

Do you think they'll get out?

I think once you're here,
you never get out.

Fear... no... more...

the heat...

of the sun...

nor the furious...

winter's...

rages.

Now thy...

worldly... task...

is done.

Oh. Hello.

- Janet, isn't it?
- Dr. Palmer, what do you think?

- About the prize?
- No. About the leukotomy.

You've won the Hubert Church Award...

for your book of short stories,
The Lagoon.

Oh. I'm not going to have the operation?

No.

I think you should stay in hospital
a little longer

until you're more confident and stronger.

And then we'll see about getting you home.

Seacliff Station, please.

I don't want you to leave home again ever.

Okay, chief.

- You're not going back to that nuthouse.
- With all those loonies.

Aw, Dad.

It's my private rest home
you're talking about.

Why don't you eat with us?

Why don't you live in your own house?

Have you got any children?

Boys, come on.
Leave Auntie Janet alone, please.

- Come have your tea.
- All right.

Come on.

Can you see something out the window? Out.

Frank Sargeson, the writer,
lives around here in an old bach.

He came to visit me.
He heard I was your sister.

- He asked if you'd like to go and see him.
- We could drop in now.

No! I don't know him.

He's not home.

- Hello.
- You're Janet Frame?

Come in. Come in.

We'll come back later.

Why don't you come and live here?

There's a bed and desk
in the hut out back already set up.

Well, you can't write
living in suburbia...

amongst the nappies
and the bourgeois life.

But I have to find a job.

Why?

You're a writer.

They've refused me the sickness benefit.

Oh, have they?

After all those years in hospital,
they can't do that.

Look, I've got a good friend
who's a doctor.

He'll fix you up with a benefit.
Of course he will.

Would you like to come and look?

"It was a sin

to have watched Aunt Nettie
putting on her face,

- and it was worse -"
- No, don't.

- "...it was worse for her, I suppose..."
- Frank!

"...because now we knew
she had another face

- and had another smile to it."
- Frank!

We'd found her out like a thief.

She kept blushing."

Not bad.

Bit... Dylan Thomas-ish.

Don't worry if it comes back.
It's only your first try.

Just remember, Waldo,

there's always another publisher.

- Aha! Maiden bearing gramophone.
- All right.

I brought these records.

Are you pouring, Frank?

"We had fed the heart on fantasies.

The heart's grown brutal from the fare.

More substance in our enmities
than in our love.

Oh, honey bees,
come build in the empty house

of a stare."

That's wonderful.

I've only read his earlier works.

"Tread softly because
you tread on my dreams"?

"I went out to the hazel wood
because a fire was in my head."

- "Till the moon has taken flight."
- Karl!

- "To and fro we leap..."
- Shh.

- "...and chase the frothy bubbles."
- You're shouting.

"While the world is full of troubles,

- come away, oh, human child..."
- Shh.

...to the waters and the wild

with a fairy hand in hand.

'Cause the world's
more full of weeping..."

- Shh.
- "...than you can understand."

Frank!

Frank!

Frank?

First up.

I can't believe it.

Well, not everyone's that lucky, Waldo,

not on their first try.

Something must have clicked with them.

Well, congratulations.

It's amazing.

To Frank, the next step was obvious.

I needed to broaden my experience.

He organized my application
for a literary grant to travel overseas.

I knew that if I stayed, there would be
no second chance for my survival.

Oh!

So, you're off to the old country, eh?

Good on you, girl. Good on you.

Mr. Frame.

This is Frank Sargeson.

My father.

Oh, you've got a very clever
daughter there, Mr. Frame.

Thank you.

Bye-bye.

Bon voyage.

♪ Time and chance are but a tide ♪

♪ Ha ha, the wooing o'it ♪

♪ Slighted love is sair to bide ♪

♪ Ha ha, the wooing o'it ♪

♪ "Shall I like a fool," quoth he ♪

♪ For a haughty hizzie die ♪

♪ She may go to France for me ♪

♪ Ha ha, the wooing o'it ♪

- Hello!
- What happened to you two?

Ah, we've just been, uh, looking around.

What have you been up to?

Isn't it absolutely gorgeous?

Can I help you?

Oh, no, thank you.

Was that the one in the white tuxedo?

Oh, I love it. What's his name?

We should go then.

Hello. I'm Janet Frame.

I wrote and reserved a room.

Frame.

No, we have no "Frame."

- But I wrote.
- No, we've had no letter from you.

But I'm all the way from New Zealand.

We have guests staying here
from all over the world.

Have you no friends in London?

None.

Why don't you try the YWCA?

Well, I hope you won't
be here for the winter.

We had a woman die of pneumonia
in one of these rooms.

That one.

We had a crown prince of Europe
in this one last year.

There.

You can call me Patrick.

So, what you doin' in London, Janet?

Oh, I'm here on a literary grant.

A literary grant?

But I'm not going to stay in London
for very long.

I'm going to go to Spain.

It's cheaper there.

You're not going on your own?

Yes.

Well, you'll be in danger
in a foreign place like that, Janet.

I'll look after you
while you're in London,

but you mustn't go to the continent
on your lonesome.

By the way, are you fancy-free?

Yes, I'm fancy-free.

Then watch out for the blacks.
They're everywhere in London.

I don't think that someone should be
referred to by the color of their skin.

You wait and see.

Oh. Well.

Come on.

Thank you.

Here we are. Smells good. Here you go.

- Now, this is paella, Janet.
- Oh, yes, the Spanish dish.

I learnt to make it
when I was living there.

- What were you doing in Spain?
- Oh, I'm an artist,

so I lived up there
for a while and worked.

- Katie?
- Yes?

Why don't you write to Colin
and tell him Janet's going to Ibiza?

Yeah, well, definitely.
Colin's a really nice guy.

In fact, he'll show you around.
In fact, he's gorgeous.

So, uh, what do you write, Janet?

- Oh, um, poetry and fiction.
- Mm-hmm.

Some short stories,
and I've written a novel.

- Have you had anything published?
- Yes.

- For which magazine?
- Um, no. The short stories are in a book.

- A book?
- The novel's been published.

- You mean you've published a book?
- Well done, Janet.

- That's excellent!
- Yes.

In fact, I've never met anybody
who's published a book before.

Well, I mean, somebody like us.
That's great.

Well, it's only in New Zealand.

- Still, it's a book, Janet.
- Who's your publisher?

Caxton Press for the short stories

and Pegasus for the novel.

Well, I've chosen my publisher.

Yes, we know, Paul. Faber.

- Faber & Faber.
- To Faber & Faber.

You didn't come home last night, Janet.

No, I missed the bus. It was too late.

Come in. Come in.

Where'd you stay?

With some new friends.

Who are these new friends?

Writers and painters.

Artists.

That's not the type for you, Janet.

They hang around and do no work.

And what about their morals?

All that... muckin' in together.

I'm a writer too, Patrick.

For the moment, maybe,

but then when you come back from Spain,
we'll get you a real job.

We'll look to our future then.

This is for you.

You can go to France with me.

♪ Ha ha, the wooing o'it ♪

My bags. My baggage. It's not here.

No, they're not here.

Your bags are in Paris. In Paris.

The ticket for leaving bags is in Paris,
not for coming to Spain.

You understand me? Your bags are in Paris.

Colin?

Oh. Katie described your hair.

- Where's your luggage?
- I'm traveling light.

Oh, that's easy then. Come on.

- Okay then. It's fixed up.
- Thank you.

There's a room free. You said you wanted
to stay a couple of nights, yeah?

Well, that's fine. Okay. See you around.

Thank you.

"Thou who didst waken
from his summer dreams,

the blue Mediterranean where he lay

and saw in sleep

old palaces and towers

quivering within the wave's intenser day."

One day soon I would
walk around the harbor road

to the opposite shore,
where the real city lay

that I knew only as the city in the sea.

- Hello again.
- Musicians and motorbikes.

Interesting combo.

What was she like, anyway?
Be a bit more careful, that's all.

- Hello.
- Sarah.

Hello.

My luggage is coming.
They sent it by sea instead of rail.

And, um, I found a place to stay.

Good.

Well, it has a view
of the water and the town.

No, I mean the town and the water.

Well, bye-bye.

Oh! Hold on.

That's the woman.

Remember, the one I met
from the ferry the other day?

- Without any luggage.
- Katie's friend or something.

It's remarkable. I didn't think
there were people like that.

She's very, very nervous.

How did Sarah look?

Oh.

Uh, carne. Carne.

Uh -

- Sí. Sí.
- Mmm.

No, no.

- No hombre.
- No, no, no, no, no.

Oh! Yeah, my sister made me- mi hermana.

Made it from a curtain. Uh, cortina.

I was approved of
because I was not a tourist.

I was not American.

I was an industrious escritora

who did not have foreign friends.

A tree...

I felt sick with disappointment
and a sense of betrayal,

for I believed I had rented
the entire house.

I had looked on Number Six
Ignacio Riquer as my place,

not to be shared with a foreigner
who spoke English.

Where do you get your money changed,
Janet?

Oh, I changed it here when I arrived

at the bank.

All of it? You shouldn't have done that.

I get my American scholarship money
changed in Andorra.

There's where the cheap money market is.

"Cheap money"?

A woman devil?

She sleeps in his bed.

Thank God you not like her.

I longed to be
as full of secrets as she seemed to be

that would prompt a man to discover them.

But for so long,
I had blocked all exits and entrances

that I felt I was as sexless
as a block of wood.

Hi, Janet. These are my friends.

Dora and Bernard.

- Hello, Dora.
- Hi, Janet.

Hello, Bernard.

It's Bernard's birthday. Would you like
to join us for a glass of wine?

Oh, no, thank you, Edwin.
I was just going.

Hey, I'd like you to.
Dora studies flute in Paris.

You been to Paris, Janet?

Oh, just one night, really,
on my way here.

Oh, you need more than a day in Paris.

- Hey. W.B.
- To Bernard.

Thirty-fourth year to heaven.

I don't think heaven's
got much to do with it.

What do you know about heaven, Edwin?
Huh? Huh?

- Cincinnati last year, big guy.
- Don't talk Cincinnati.

Oh, yeah?

Hey, are you gonna show me your work?

Oh, yeah, I've been working.

- Janet.
- Oh!

Hi. Good morning.

- Hello.
- How are you?

Good.

Uh-huh!

Byron.

So, uh, you wanna go walking?

I'll tell you one thing.
I could not work this morning.

Um, what sort of work do you do?

Well, back home I work
as a history professor,

but I'm really a poet.

A poet.

Hey, come on.
Edwin tells me you're a published author.

- But, ah, what about Auden?
- Oh, yes.

"Follow, poet,
follow right to the bottom of the night."

- Yeah. Right.
- "With your unconstraining voice

still persuade us to rejoice."

Oh, and - The Kipling.

Kipling. Do you know "Gunga Din"?

What about Yeats?

Yeah. But how does "Gunga Din" start?

Now, I know that one. Uh -

- I have to go.
- Yeah, I know.

I know.

Well, good morning.

I brought some breakfast.

Mmm. Uh -

Just let me read you this first, okay?
Uh, I wrote it this morning.

You know that time just after waking?
It's when I'm at my most creative.

Now, it's just a first draft.

"Spring."
"Spring in all its lightness.

Glad brightness of blue-domed day."

I had "blue-roofed," but I changed it.

"Blue-domed day.

Heart-holding hills of Ohio,

where memory stretches like miles and s...

spring renews its promise
like the first-spoken word."

- Do you like it?
- Hmm.

It must be lovely.

Spring in Ohio.

Blue-do - Did you like blue-domed?

Oh, beautiful!

Do it again.

Bernard, I want to show you something
that Dora can do.

She can kiss and play the stick game
at the same time.

- Watch this.
- All right, all right.

You think that is something?
You think that is something?

- That's something.
- I want you to see something.

My girl, who can play the Maori
stick game from New Zealand

can also drink wine and kiss
at the same time.

- She can chug at the same time?
- Chug-a-lug.

Chug, chug, chug.

Look at that. Now, that is the sort -

You're always showing off, Bernard.
I'm sick of it.

- I'm always showing off?
- Yes.

- Come on! En garde!
- Prepare to die!

You always go too far!

Someone get this guy off me.

I haven't heard your typewriter for weeks.
You're not writing, are you?

I'm taking a break.

I hope you know what you're doing.

- Of course I do.
- Okay.

Well, I guess this is my last week.

Oh, come on. You knew I was going.

No.

Well, I have to get back,
prepare for next term and so on.

God knows, I don't want to go.

I didn't realize it was next week.

Hey, listen. Look. No, no, no.
Listen to me.

I've had a great summer.

I really mean that.

I'm gonna miss you.

Huh?

Hmm?

Francesca.
Senorita Janetta - is she home?

Look, I love you too.

Janet?

Janet? Are you there?

Uh, the ferry goes at midday.

Janet?

I'd really like to say good-bye.

Janetta?

True romance, indeed.

So much for poetry and music.

I was beginning to suspect
that I might be pregnant.

Here.

Here. What you got in here?

I managed to get you a room
in the main house...

next to mine.

Oh, we've got a new landlady.

She's a real character. Tip-top.

She likes to be called Ma.

By the way,

I trust you're still fancy-free.

Great. Come on then!

I've got some tea on.

It's the bus! Janet! Where are you?

You don't want to spend your time writing.

There's no money in it.

It's all right for a holiday...

but nothin' else.

Not for permanent.

What about Peek Freans?

- Peek Freans?
- Yeah!

You could work in the office there.

Yeah!

Although I had not wanted the baby,

I had sometimes imagined
a boy with Bernard's laugh,

or a girl with his eyes.

So nice to have a mature applicant.

We have so many young ones.

Any major illnesses?

No.

- Uh, any operations?
- No.

- Psychiatric treatment?
- Yes.

I spent some time in hospital
in New Zealand.

How long is "some time"?

Eight years.

How could you possibly think
of being a nurse?

What was the diagnosis?

- Schizophrenia.
- I'm sorry.

No.

It's out of the question.

I felt as if all the griefs
I had ever known

were beginning to surface within me.

In fear and despair for my life,

I needed answers to the questions
I still asked myself about my history.

I knew that talk of suicide
must always be taken seriously.

Such talk came readily to me
as a shortcut to ensure action.

I was admitted as a voluntary patient.

Finally it was concluded that I had
never suffered from schizophrenia.

At first the truth seemed
more terrifying than the lie.

How could I now ask for help
when there was nothing wrong with me?

You know the problems
you've been experiencing

are a direct result
of all those years in hospital.

You can't undo that quickly.

I'm here whenever you need me,

but, I think for a start, once a week.

Once a week. All right.

Mmm. And I want you to write

about your time spent
in hospital in New Zealand.

It'll help give you
a clearer view to the future.

- But I have to find a job.
- Don't have to worry about that.

You'll get National Assistance.

If anyone tells you to get out and mix...

and you don't want to... don't.

- Have you read it?
- Yes, I have.

And I'm sure that getting that time
out of your system will be good for you.

But as a book, do you like it?

I told you, I'm not a literary chap.

Have you thought of getting an agent?

- I already have one.
- What did he say?

- I wanted you to read it first.
- That's good.

Now I have, take it to him,
get his opinion.

I'm going to meet my publisher tomorrow.

Ooh! Why don't I make
a hair appointment for you?

Oh, no. Nothing works. I've tried.

I'm sure they could do something with it.

Granted, your books have had good reviews.

Some very good.

But what I want you to do now
is write a best seller.

When Wanda Lyons comes to see me,
do you know how she comes?

She comes in a Rolls-Royce.

You are a better writer than Wanda.

Best seller.

Best seller.

Study them. They'll give you the form.

- Where is it you're living?
- Camberwell.

Camberwell is a wasteland.

I'll make you an offer.
I'll give you an apartment.

Give me?

Yes, I'd like you to write
your next book in there.

Uh - I don't know. I'll have to see.

Also, I've got some people
who'd like to meet you.

And don't forget.

Next time you come in a Rolls-Royce.

There. These should fit you as well.

Lovely. Now, I'll send Columba
for your wet things.

Oh, I loved your last book.
It was just absolutely marvelous.

- Take your time.
- Thank you.

- You enjoyed the book then?
- Oh, yes.

She's an interesting new author.

Probably won't sell.
It probably won't be a best seller.

We won't lose anything on it.

Janet Frame, Alan and Ruth Sillitoe.

- Pleased to meet you at last.
- I'll get you a drink.

- Hello.
- Janet, welcome.

Janet, do make yourself comfortable.
Sit down, please.

I loved your Faces in the Water.

It's powerful stuff. Very true.

Thank you.

I, um - I enjoyed your book too.

The Loneliness
of the Long-Distance Runner.

I'm glad.

Here you are, Janet.

Thank you.

Janet's in our Knightsbridge
apartment at the moment,

writing her new book.

Yes.

I am.

Dear Janet,

I wish there was a way
to break this news more gently.

Dad is dead.

He was cycling to work on the North Road

when he collapsed and died
later in hospital.

Poor Dad. He hasn't properly
cared for himself since Mum died.

Bruddie says the house is a rubbish heap.

Miss Frame?

Ken Bowker from the local paper,
Miss Frame.

Can we come up?

Yes.

Sorry to disturb you. We wanted to beat
the Dunedin papers to it.

- To what?
- Your story.

Can you bend your knees?

Can we have one sitting, Miss Frame?

Sitting.

Like this?

That's good.

♪ Come on, baby ♪

♪ Let's do the twist ♪

♪ Come on, baby ♪

♪ Let's do the twist ♪

- Pamela, come to bed, please?
- ♪ Take me by my little hand ♪

♪ And go like this ♪

- Coffee?
- Uh, no thanks, June.

- See you tomorrow then.
- Night-night.

- Night-night.
- ♪ Ooh, yeah ♪

♪ Just like this ♪

♪ Come on, little girl ♪

♪ And do the twist ♪

♪ My daddy is sleepin' ♪

♪ And my mama ain't around ♪

♪ Yes, Daddy's just sleepin' ♪

♪ And Mama ain't around ♪

♪ Yeah, now twist ♪

♪ Girl, baby, twist ♪

♪ Ooh, yeah ♪

♪ Just like this ♪

♪ Come on, little miss ♪

♪ And do the twist ♪

Hush, hush, hush.

The grass and the wind

and the fir

and the sea are saying...

hush...

hush...

hush.