Dangerous Parking (2007) - full transcript

Noah Arkwright, a successful, hard living and indulgent independent British film director, finally decides to try and defeat the many addictions that are destroying him, his career and the people who care for him. But Mother Nature has other tests of strength and character in store for him.

[projector clicking]

[♪]

[♪]

[whoosh]

[♪]

[wind rustling leaves]

[birds chirping]

[organ playing]

[church bell tolls]

[♪]

[static buzzing]

[man 1]

My name is mine!

And you're all full of shit!

♪ [Rock]

[man 2] Noah Arkwright,

you fucking useless,

miserable piece of shit!

Arrogant, pathetic,

self-indulgent

motherfucking cunt!

[man 1, narrating]

Which,

although grammatically

kind of all over the place,

is a pretty accurate

character assessment.

But then Ray is

my best mate.

You'd expect him to

know me quite well.

[♪]

My name's Noah Arkwright...

and I want my mum.

[♪]

[Noah] I'm just supplying

the disease, aren't I?

The rest is just

plain old storytelling.

[Ray] Look at you,

practicing your pithy quotes

-for the press release.

-[cell phone ringing]

There you go.

Yeah, hello?

Yeah, it is, yeah.

[♪]

Thank you.

Kirstin's dead.

I've gotta go.

She's...?

Ray?

[tape rewinding]

[Noah]

Shit my pants.

In just under 25 minutes,

I've got to stand in front of

baggy there

and his unimaginatively

centrally cast,

overeducated middle English

fuckwit pals

and read out loud

from my latest screenplay,

and I'm fucking terrified.

I also feel

a little bit of a prat

'cause I tried to drunkenly

peroxide my hair

at a party last week,

and I've ended up with

this kind of dead ginger

guinea pig thing on me head.

Anyway, fuck it.

Since my last two films,

I've got quite major

cult status at the moment,

so looking weird

probably adds to

the whole rebel aspect

of my coolness.

Hey, I don't make up

the rules.

And being the hottest

new filmmaker

to come out of the U.K.

in years

may be a very

heady epithet,

but can I cut

the academic mustard?

Are they just wasting their

money on some inarticulate fake

whose main credentials are

good art house box office

and critical reviews in

obscure foreign journals?

Always a healthy indicator

of class

if some renowned critic in

Gdansk thinks you're cool.

I am also drunk.

I hit the station bar at

King's Cross big style,

and I've got seven

double vodkas in me.

[male voice]

Very nice vodka, I like it.

Aah... nice one, Noah!

Thanks, man.

You charmer.

[Noah] In my pocket is

a half bottle of scotch,

and in my head

there are two Valium,

and quarter of

clinically pure cocaine.

I know this condition well.

It's usually

the last scene before

the alcohol and chemical

oblivion scene.

[alarm beeping]

[♪]

[laughing]

Oh, God...

There's a bench

right in front of you,

you blind drunk bastard.

[♪]

[Noah] Anyway, this is where

I met Kirstin.

She was a corn-fed piece of

undergraduate perfection

taking her beautiful breasts on

a gently bouncing journey

across the quad to listen to

me and my genius.

And I was definitely gonna

fuck her.

-Decided that on the spot.

-[Kirstin moans]

My celebrity status would

take care of that.

It'd be the thing that'd

keep me focused

for the next hour.

Good.

Salvation in the shape of

a surefire fuck.

This was turning into

my kind of gig.

[♪]

Just what the doctor

ordered.

Up yours, doc.

[♪]

Aah...!

[screaming louder]

Stay strong!

Work with me!

We're nearly there!

[Noah] Now I'm gonna take

an uneducated stab in

the psychological dark that

it doesn't work like that.

[Ray] Noah, mate.

Take a look at the magazine.

Yeah?

Look, she comes from

the same manor as you.

Her quartet are playing the

Fleming Hall tomorrow afternoon

and you are gonna go

and see her play

and you are gonna take her

out for a nice cup of tea

after the show.

Despite the fact that neither

of us have ever met this girl,

you've decided that

this is a great idea

based on this one

article, have you?

Yes, I have,

'cause I can feel it.

I don't what it is...

but I can feel it

very strongly.

[bell dings]

[Noah]

Yeah, I saw that too,

but then I'm

pretty fucked up--

I don't know what

your excuse is.

♪ [Classical]

And this woman is

playing her cello

in a place that floats

somewhere between

heaven and earth.

[♪]

Fluid alabaster.

I know every single person in

the room saw that smile,

but I decide it's only meant

for me, of course...

Because I'm a wanker.

Totally out of my league.

[♪]

What the fuck

am I doing here?

Ray, what have

you got me into?

[sniffles, clears throat]

Maybe she never got

the note.

Yeah, they never actually

pass 'em on,

these stage door

jobsworths, anyway.

It's straight in

the rubbish bin

as soon as you're

out of sight.

Good, well,

that's good.

Probably for the best.

[woman] Noah?

Noah Arkwright?

I'm Clare Mattheson.

And somehow I knew

in that moment

that she'd be in my life

forever.

Bit pukey-pukey,

I know, but...

[vomiting]

[coughs, spits]

Where the fuck am I?

[sighs]

Oh, corn-fed perfection,

it's you.

Things are looking up.

Wonder how I got here.

Wonder if I fucked you.

I wonder how to possibly

ask that one.

Oh, my fucking head.

Oh, Jesus Ronnie H.

Fucking Corbett!

Keep the noise down,

you prick,

you'll wake Gustav.

And who the cunting hell

is Gustav

when he's not propping up

a bar in Kiev?

He's my son, you...

dipso nonhead.

At your service...

[vomiting, coughing]

[retching]

[spits]

[coughs]

Stop staring and say sorry,

you twat.

Hey, did we, uh...

No, we most certainly

did not.

Oh.

How you even made it through

the reading

is a freak

of nature.

Hey, I'm a pro,

what can I tell you?

Oh...

[gagging]

Oh...

[belching, retching]

Oh, God help me.

Fucking Jesus fucking Christ

help me.

He will if you let him.

♪ [angelic chorus]

Oh, that's all we need,

a divine inter-bloody-vention.

I think you think you're

funny, Noah. You're not.

You're unfunny.

You're an arsehole.

You're an unfunny arsehole.

[angelic chorus]

♪ Arse... hole

Well, we're all agreed

on that, then.

Hey, Gus.

Thanks for the crib, man.

I'm... sorry I kind of, uh,

power-puked

on your power men

here a little bit.

I'll make it up to you,

though.

I'll, uh...

I'll, uh, come round and...

uh... bake you a cake

or something.

Oh, Jesus...

♪ [organ]

[Kirstin] You ready for this,

Noah?

[Noah] I don't even know

what this is, do I?

Didn't even know you

18 hours ago.

You know what this is, Noah.

You have an off-the-chart

drink problem.

How do I know?

I used to have one,

so I know

what they look like.

You were sent to me

so that I could save you.

Oh, wow, look how I won

the top prize.

Shook a seven and ended up

with Mother Teresa's

little fucking helper.

Noah...

yesterday's history,

tomorrow's a mystery.

Is it? Oh, well, I'll bear that

in mind, shall I?

When you get inside, Noah,

just remember,

look for the similarities,

not the differences.

What, like, "Oh, that's bloke's

got the same jacket on as me"?

[static]

Oh, I did pack some

spare coke after all.

Oh, Noah, you really are

a clever,

naughty little druggie.

-Ready?

-Yeah.

Yeah, I am, I'm ready.

I am.

And listen, thank you

very much indeed, okay?

Come on.

Come on, let's do it,

shall we?

I'm ready,

let's have it.

[snorting, sniffing]

Ah...

It is... showtime.

[woman] welcome to the

St. Stephen's Thursday morning

step meeting for

Alcoholics Anonymous.

Can we start with

a moment of silence

to remember why we're here,

and those still-suffering

alcoholics

who've not yet made it

into these rooms?

Who the fuck's

he waving at?

He wants fucking loonies

anonymous, doesn't he?

[woman] It's a tradition that

we go round the room

and introduce ourselves so we

can put a name to a face.

And remember,

if it's your first time,

just sit back, listen,

try not to be afraid,

and look for the similarities,

not the differences.

Oh, someone else got

the new pages

under her door last night.

Okay?

Hi, my name is Darren

and... I'm an alcoholic.

[all] Hi, Darren.

[mocking]

Hi, Darren.

Hello, everyone, I'm Marion

and I'm an alcoholic.

[all] Hi, Marion.

Hi, my name is Tom

and I'm an alcoholic.

-[all] Hi, Tom.

-[whispers] Tom the alkie.

Hello, my name's Kirstin

and... I'm an alcoholic.

[all] Hi, Kirstin.

Oh, my go?

[tape speeds up]

My name is mine!

And you're all full of shit!

[♪]

No point following

the chase, right?

We all know the next bit.

This is where we came in,

as they used to say.

Okay, Mr. Arkwright.

Fuck knows

how I got here.

I'm not even sure

I'm alive.

Could murder a scotch,

though, I do know that.

Or even a cuppa.

Sadly, neither seem to be

on offer here.

I get the feeling I'm in

the "home truths" suite

of the "sit down and

fucking listen" motel.

-And sure enough...

-Let me give it to you straight.

Here it comes.

The state of my union address.

-Your liver is enlarged.

-Uh-huh.

Your prostate is enlarged.

Your testicles are enlarged.

So tempted to go for

the cheap quip here.

Is that a fact?

Big fucking... testicles?

But I don't fancy

a bollocking

from doc eyebrows

in the state I'm in,

so I stay schtum.

There are traces of blood

in your urine.

-Your nostrils are enlarged.

-Really?

And your septum

has more holes in it

than a cheese grater.

Shit, a gag from the doc.

I can respect that.

Your blood alcohol level

is off the scale.

I'd fucking hope so,

the money I've spent on it, doc.

However... your blood

pressure is very low,

almost reptilian.

Who cast this cunt?

Which I suspect is one of

the few reasons

you're still alive.

So, in words of

one syllable, then,

you know, just...

Mr. Arkwright, I am not

in the business of

making fun of ill health.

So instead of indulging you

in your dismissive attitude,

I will be blunt with you.

Do not be fooled by this

semi-healthy outward appearance,

which may fool your

film friends...

Which it does.

Not that I've got that many

film friends,

or any other type of friends,

for that matter.

Let me be absolutely

clear with you.

If you do not stop this

idiotic consumption,

you will be dead

in three years.

Do you understand

what I'm telling you?

Three years.

Be lucky to get

two more films made,

maybe only one.

Please,

someone give me a drink.

I need a drink--

No, you don't.

Yes, I do--

No, you don't.

Yes, I do.

Ask yourself, Noah,

"Am I not sick and tired of

being sick and tired?"

[♪]

My name is Noah

and I'm an alcoholic.

I want to say it out loud but

I'm too sick and too tired.

So all I can do is...

[crying]

Oh, fucking hell...

Please say cut on this scene,

please, for fuck's sake?

Will you just fucking cut?

Please cut, cut, cut...

[sobs]

Just fucking cut, will you?

I get it, I get it, I get it,

I get it, I get it,

I fucking get it.

I'm fucked up, all right?

I'm fucked up! I get it!

I fucking get it!

Cut, all right? Cut!

I'm the fucking director!

And I say fucking cut, doctor!

Cut! Cut!

[Kirstin] Yes, he agrees

he needs treatment.

He's happy to come

immediately.

No, I'll get him there.

Thank you, doctor.

You were at the meeting, Ray.

How, how? How did you--

What were you doing

at the meeting?

How did you get to

the meeting?

I mean, you live

fucking miles away, man.

What is this, some kind of

a conspiracy or something?

Kirstin found my number

on an old call sheet

inside your pocket.

Called me last night.

I had no idea Ray was

your best friend.

But it shows

another way that

destiny's

trying to help you.

There are no coincidences,

Noah.

And with that sexy little

addition to the sloganography,

they looked at each other with

this strange kind of oneness.

It was pretty sickly,

like they'd known each other

for years, not hours.

I didn't want to freak you

out in the meeting,

so, you know, I just

kept my head down.

Now there's nothing to hide,

is there?

I've been in the program

for a while now.

Ever since Greece.

You know,

the calamari deal.

Remember?

About 18 months ago,

we were down in Greece,

me and Ray.

We'd been picking up some

second unit footage

for a movie of the week,

which we didn't really need.

So after a day shooting

various fishermen

unloading all kinds of

smelly fish,

we settled down for

a hard day's night

of drinking ouzo...

and about anything else

they cared to set

in front of us.

-Oh!

-[laughter]

Now, Ray is going at it

for Great Britain,

but I'm pacing myself

because

I think I might be in with old

white blouse over there.

-[laughter]

-[indistinct chatter]

[Noah]

See you later, Ray.

Which turns out

to be correct.

[whooping, laughter]

Next morning,

I'm a little bit fuzzy,

but I've been

healthily pumped,

and that always helps

the hangover--

I don't know why,

but it does.

Must be an endorphin thing.

Obviously,

Johnny endorphin

enjoys a good shag

like the rest of us

and he passes on

the good faith by

letting you off in

the hangover department.

Great fucking deal

if you ask me.

♪ [Greek]

[laughs]

Not that I'm surprised.

Ah, kalimera.

Kalimera.

Hey, you seen him?

Calamari!

Calamari!

Then he starts waving

his hands about

like an idiot, yelling...

Calamari!

Kalimerais

"good morning."

This is calamari!

Kalameri. Kalameri.

[laughing]

-Ooh...

-[Noah] All right, Ray man?

Oh... No, look,

no, no, look,

he's smiling.

Look, kissy...

Give us a kiss.

-Go on, mate, have at it.

-[laughing]

Oh, give us a kiss.

And he gives it a great

big smacker.

Which the squid

obviously liked,

'cause he responded

with equal affection.

[♪]

And that's when I knew

it was serious.

It's like something

out of theAlien.

Ray was shit-scared.

I mean, he couldn't breathe.

And this little fucker

wasn't letting go.

[Noah] Get off him, man!

Fucking get off him!

[choking]

Ray, fucking breathe,

man, breathe!

-Fucking--

-[muffled screaming]

It was horrible.

Come on, man, get off him!

It took all of

the fisherman's strength

to pull that little bastard

off of Ray's face.

Get off him!

[gasping]

Oh, fuck.

-Ray, Ray, Ray--

-Fuck off!

Ray, Ray, Ray, Ray!

Come here, mate,

it's all right.

Ray, it's all right,

come here.

And he sobbed like I've never

heard a man sob before

or since.

[Ray sobbing loudly]

Except myself.

And right now here was Ray

telling me it was that day

he realized he had to

kill the booze

or it would kill him.

And since then, he's always had

a string of ready-to-go reasons

why he couldn't

come out for a drink,

which I never really

questioned at the time.

So, dots were joined.

[Ray] take care now.

It's the best thing that ever

happened to you, mate, trust me.

Why didn't you

tell me, Ray?

You should have fucking

told me--

You should have

fucking told me!

Sorry.

I love you, mate.

[window whirring]

[engine starts]

[♪]

You bet your sweet life

I'm looking for a bar.

Any joint with

a pulse'll do.

don't think I'm going to

the alkie home

without a livener

in me, do you?

For a good 20 high-tension

minutes, there's nothing.

I can feel the panic

rising.

And I resort to the prayer

of the condemned man.

Dear God, just one last time,

please.

Then I'll be good forever

and ever, amen.

[tape rewinds]

Oh, you little beauty!

Pull over here and wait.

[tires screech]

Ten minutes,

all that's required.

Ha!

Four tequila doubles

with salt and lime.

Oh, fucking hell!

Oh, fucking hell.

[whooping like a monkey]

[laughing]

Tequila! Tequila!

I now have four liquid worms

in my gut

and a bush fire

starting in my veins.

[Mariachi music plays]

And in a typical alcohol-fueled

fit of self-congratulation,

I decide that in spite of

all the woes,

I haven't done bad for a

snake-belted, gray-shorted,

motherless snotty kid from a

council estate in Workington.

When I was seven,

I went to live

with my aunt and uncle,

and one day this gypsy came

and read my palm.

She said I would go far

from this place

and in my middle years

I would become very ill,

and how right she was.

Whatever big city or

high-falutin' situation

I've been in since then,

I've crawled back into

that hole in the road

every night,

drunk, drugged

and feeling that

nameless fear.

If I carry on with

the pattern,

I'll make the second half of

the gypsy's prediction

come true.

Might even go mid-line,

mid-swig, mid-fuck.

Or maybe all three.

Or maybe all fucking three,

mate, eh?

Maybe all fucking three.

What do you think

about that?

I'm going to rehab, mate,

I'm going to rehab.

Fucking rehab

they've sent me to.

Fucking rehab.

I don't wanna go, frankly.

But I must still want to live,

mustn't I,

or else I

wouldn't be in this cab

traveling up the gravel drive

to the funny farm

and all points beyond.

And just then,

a little bit of Becket

pops uninvited

into my head.

I decide to share.

"Perhaps my best years

are gone,

"when there was

a chance of happiness,

"but I wouldn't want them back,

not with the fire in me now."

[laughing]

Oh, my God, Noah,

you pretentious

cunting fuckwad!

[laughing]

[Clare] Hello, there.

Oh, hello, love.

I didn't hear you come back.

I was bloody miles away there.

I was having a little--

a little reminisce.

Listen, Noah, Etta and I

are going to go to the cottage

for the weekend.

Now, don't be angry.

Why would I be angry?

I am angry.

What the fuck is she going

down there with Etta for?

She knows I'm threatened

by Etta and her,

oh, so safe in the knowledge

of her lot in life

"Second violin. I could have

been first violin,

but I chose

the supporting role"

bullshit she doesn't mean

a fucking word of.

Noah, everything's all right,

isn't it?

You're not keeping

anything from me?

No, of course not, why?

Because you've been pretty

bloody strange recently,

even for you.

Tell her now.

Tell her.

Tell her the cancer's back.

Yeah, I know, I'm sorry,

it's-- it's just these

fucking tossers at

the film council.

You know they like to

play God with you.

It just winds me up.

I'm sorry.

Okay. I'm gonna ask you.

Are you having an affair?

You see, I knew she'd

bloody think this.

No. I am so not having

an affair, Clare, actually,

thanks a lot, no.

Then you must be

drinking again.

No!

Jesus, you are

such a nightmare.

Everything else is all right?

Here's your chance.

Tell her.

Yeah. Yeah, my-- yeah, um,

health's fine, I'm fine.

Well, then, what the fuck

is wrong with you? Huh?

This should be one of the

happiest times of our lives!

Our second child's on the way,

you're well,

I'm sawing,

money's no problem.

Jesus Christ, Noah,

I even want you!

I'm even horny!

Every time I come near you, you

look at me like I'm radioactive!

[scoffs]

Don't go to the cottage,

Clare, please.

Oh, it's all arranged.

You get Coral from school.

You know, and maybe

you should think about

going to one of

those meetings

where you do whatever it is

you do to change,

'cause you are fucking

impossible at the moment!

Tell them I told you so!

I love you!

With every inch

of my heart.

Tell her.

I know you do.

But do you understand

what it means?

Yes.

[sighs]

Oh, shit, why didn't I

tell her as soon as I knew?

We'd have had choices then.

But how could I?

Timing just couldn't have

been worse.

[urinating]

Oh, whoopti boopti

fucking boo.

[screaming]

Welcome back, guys.

Missed ya.

[Clare] Darling?

[door closes]

[toilet flushing]

Got something to tell you.

Yeah, me too.

You first.

No, no, you.

Okay.

I'm pregnant again.

And the scene is

frozen in time

for a hundred

thousand years.

The chemo last year had

basically been a neutron bomb

making instant corpses of

billions of sperm,

and now this,

the against-all-odds one.

Oh, he giveth and he taketh

fucking away, all right,

old God,

I'll give him that.

He's got that fucker down.

Noah, you happy?

Of course I am, darling.

God, that's fantastic!

I'm happy as a sandboy!

-Me too, sandgirl.

-Sandboy, sandgirl.

-[laughs]

-Oh, God, that's fantastic.

Oh--

Oh, that's fantastic.

-Go on, your go.

-What?

You wanted to say something.

Oh, God, no, no, no.

Pales into insignificance

in the presence of such

loftiness, darling.

Oh, no, come on, come on.

I don't want to steal

the front page.

No, take it, it's yours,

don't worry about it.

Mine was only on page seven

at the very, very best,

I promise you.

-Oh, oh, I should call Etta.

-Oh, yeah.

-Do you mind?

-No, no, course not.

Go on, call her.

No, she's your mate.

Go and call her.

[♪]

Yeah, that was the day,

all right.

Not long after

Billy Bob's brother

had given me his present,

I got another one.

[speaking French]

I'd got Clare

to come to Morocco

on such a line

of bullshit.

It was only our second meeting

over coffee.

Going to shoot in

Morocco, so...

-Morocco?

-Yeah.

How exciting.

-What's the film called?

-It's called Kobo.

I've been working on it for

about six months now.

Liar.

Um, got a big studio

behind me.

Bullshit,

you fucking big liar.

And a major actor--

afraid I can't tell you who,

'cause of the old,

you know--

wants to play the lead part.

You could be a major actor,

Arkwright,

this is such crapola.

It all sounds great.

You must be very highly

thought of.

Me? Oh, yeah, I'm one of

life's most celebrated

horseshit peddlers.

Anyway, um...

Go on, then, get to

the knicker-wetting bit. Ask her.

I wondered if you might

want to come with me.

Not a good idea.

There's a man who follows

my career very closely.

He sends me a red rose

for every performance.

I've never met him.

What the fuck is she

telling me this now for?

He's asked me to

meet him in Paris.

Okay, you better deal with

this, big boy, okay?

Deal with this immediate

jealousy and anger

you are feeling.

A red rose

every performance,

I'll kill the motherfucker.

Oh, uh, when?

Weekend after next perhaps.

Do it now, dipshit.

Say something magnanimous

or you will blow this

right here and now.

Well, P-Paris is beautiful,

isn't it, you know what I mean?

Even in March.

Absolutely fucking useless,

you twat.

Horrible,

just plain horrible.

Go again, this time

with feeling.

Noah...

Sorry?

Something happened between us

when we first met.

Something

that could become very big.

You felt it too,

didn't you?

Yeah, I felt it, yeah.

Well, then you will know

that I must go to Paris

and see this man and...

And she lets it

hang there.

Bloody, hell, she's good,

I'll give her that.

Classy. And she wants me

to condone it.

But I can't,

I can't say it,

I can't say,

"Of course, you must go

and spend some time

with the rose man of Paris.

Go, go, please,

with my blessing."

I hope his dick is

two inches long

and he has a curious

lupus-type affliction

which manifests itself

by his head falling off

at inopportune moments.

[thud]

[bell dings]

Then I get a rare moment

of inspiration.

Ha! Genius!

Here you are,

Robert Doisneau.

Snap this photo,

you French fuck,

and slap it in your

album de Paris.

Thank you, Noah.

You know,

for a moment there,

I thought you were gonna

handle it badly.

[exaggerated scoff]

[train clacking]

Clare came to Morocco

with me,

and in between Essaouira

and Marrakesh,

we made love

for the first time.

In truth, the reason I'm

still awake is that

I realized that I made love

for the first time...

ever.

More pukey-pukey, I know,

but it's true.

I, Noah the fuckmeister,

the man who in

any emotional storm

would dock his cock in

any vaginal port

had never actually made

love to a woman before.

[sighs]

Penny for them.

I was just thinking,

today's my birthday, you know.

It's April first.

Huh.

Which one of us is the fool

today, I wonder?

Well...

I feel like...

all of the world's fools...

and all of the smartest men

that ever lived...

all in one body.

[chuckles softly]

[♪]

-Good night, Noah.

-Good night.

-Happy birthday.

-Thank you.

Ah...

[urinating]

Whoa, tilt!

Hey, bartender,

what the fuck is this?

Blood in urine

with a twist?

Hang on-- deja piss.

Why does this ring a bell?

Oh, yeah, the Tribeca twins

a few weeks ago.

[♪]

What the fuck is that?

"Cranberries."

"Cranberries?"

"Yeah."

"If you say so."

[woman] Noah! Come back

and fuck us some more!

[woman 2] Yeah!

What's the matter with you?

Oh...

[♪]

Oh, finally.

The Tribeca twins?

Okay, I'll tell you.

-[music thumping]

-Good evening, vicar.

Mind the small one.

Excuse me, can I-- Excuse me!

Ray and I met the twins when

we were shooting some footage

for a film called

Downtown Surf Story.

We were told to get

some footage of

this band called

The Turd Basket

while they were still

raw and bloody.

-Oh, oh!

-And there they were.

Rita and Connie,

the twins.

They're not really twins

but who cares?

Oh, fucking...

[♪]

Hey, Ray! Ray!

Raymond! Ray!

Very erotic and very aware

of it-- I love that.

Raymond! You got some up

here, you getting it?

You got this, this...

No pretending to be cute.

"We are young, we are sexy,

we are fuckable

and we don't care

who knows it."

Oh, that is top.

Fucking excellent.

[♪]

We went back to their loft

and they gave us a show.

It turns out they're

graduates from

the London Fashion

Institute and very creative.

I decided there and then they

would design the costumes

for all my films

from now on.

Show us another one, show us

another one, come on.

[♪]

[Ray]

Oh, that's nice.

[moaning]

And then we shagged nonstop

for the rest of the day,

and from that day on,

I was never turned away

whenever I was in London,

and needy of some

female action of

the "how's your father?"

variety.

Oh... two thumbs up!

[Ray]

I got two thumbs way up.

[tape slows]

And here I am again.

Ladies, I am--

I bid you farewell,

all right?

I'm fucking out of here, man,

you know what I mean?

It's been a great ride.

You know that.

As ever.

But something tells me

this is the last time

we will do this.

[Connie]

Good luck, Noah.

Come back and

see us soon.

Yeah, yeah, I will,

I'll come back

and see you soon,

all right see you.

Love you both.

I fucking love you.

Just see you later, right?

Ta. See you later.

[♪]

"Or you strained yourself.

Burst a blood vessel"

"What?"

"The blood in the piss, Noah.

Probably nothing

to worry about."

"Right. Or cranberries."

Yeah, well...

[door slams]

[♪]

-Whoa, fuckin' hell.

-[static buzzes]

[man, distorted]

What's the name of this place?

[singsongy]

Come to be an alkie!

[distorted buzzing]

Anyone home?

[distant voices]

[buzzing]

[distorted music]

Fuck, you don't look well.

[man] You must be Noah!

Jesus fucking Christmas!

Welcome to

Bramwell Hospital.

-What?

-Kirstin called to say

you were on your way.

We were just starting

to get worried.

Oh?

Oh, God.

[laughing]

Sorry!

Forgot I was wearing it!

It's our "smile revolution"

week.

A smile day

keeps the doctor away.

[flatulent sound]

[laughing]

Uh...

I'm Harry.

Harry, do me a favor.

Fuck off, will you?

We holding hands?

All right.

Oh, here we go.

That's it, it's all right.

Nobody panic.

Fucking Nora, right?

That's all right.

These are the works of

some of our guests.

Wonderful, aren't they?

No, they're shit,

they're fucking shit.

Wa-hey, that one looks

like a vagina.

Is that a vagina?

Big vag' thing going on.

So, is that what I am now

then, Harry?

I'm a guest, am I?

Is that it?

Oh, no, not until you've

processed by Don.

Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,

forgot about that,

yeah, the old

processing by Don routine.

Yeah, big bad Don

and the processors.

Hell of a band they are.

Whoa! Miss Rabbit Ears,

that is a lot of drugs

you've got going on there.

Where you going with 'em?

Oh, no she's gone.

It's optional.

Yeah, and you know what else

is optional, Harry?

Cutting your own balls off with

a pair of blunt garden shears.

That's optional too.

[chuckles]

Where do you think

Miss Rabbit Ears

parks that trolley

over night-time. Hmm?

You don't know, do you?

You'll be fine, Noah.

Don't worry.

We take our work

very seriously here.

Do you?

Let's hope so.

All right.

Oh, for fuck's sake.

All right.

[panting]

[sighs]

[buzzing]

Okay, fuck it.

[♪]

[timer ticking]

[timer dings]

Hello, Noah.

My name's Don.

Tell us your problem.

Well...

in for a penny

and all that.

Hello, Don.

My name's Noah,

and I am an

alcohol-abusing,

drug-crazy,

arrogant arsehole...

since you asked.

[Don] don't be

so hard on yourself.

The next couple of days

are gonna be tough.

Uh.

Tell me a little bit

about yourself.

-I'm stuck.

-Eh?

Can't think of

a single thing, not one thing.

Tequila worms are

busy in my brain,

sucking, vacuuming up

every thought in there.

I don't-- I don't know

what you mean.

Like, what do you mean?

What do you mean?

What about a funny story?

-Funny story?

-Yeah. A funny story.

Not a joke? A story?

Yeah.

Funny story, funny story,

funny, um...

I know loads

of funny stories.

Fucking hell.

I can't fucking think of one.

I did go to the pub

on the way, so hang on.

Sorry, I'm just--

Oh, uh, all right.

Well, I don't know, okay.

Funny to me.

[sniffles] Um...

Ray, he's my--

he's my cameraman, all right?

We met at a Black Sabbath

concert years ago.

That's a--

That's another story.

Me and him, we're on--

we're in the--

on the M6, right,

north of Birmingham,

and we are out of it.

Out of it,

totally out of control.

We've had like a six-pack of

super-strength lager,

we got a couple thinnies of

Zowie Maui sinsemilla dope

and a windowpane

of acid each.

Each.

So, Ray's driving is really

driving steady, you know,

like that, bosh,

like that.

But fuck me if the cars

are not whizzing past

at a serious miles an hour,

just mental, mental,

mental, mental.

And I don't know if it's

just my, you know,

stoned disorientation

'cause they're like fucking--

don't forget,

I'm not exactly,

you know what I mean,

going for me law degree

that afternoon.

So and then suddenly

tap, tap, tap--

Whoa.

On the fucking, on the win--

on the window--

plod.

[honks horn]

-Man.

-Fuck.

-Yellow man.

-Fuck.

[Noah] So Ray winds

the window straight down.

Copper, he says,

"What the--

What the fuck do you think

you're doing?

Ray puts on his, like--

his best, you know,

college blue voice.

He says, "Oh, I'm

terribly sorry, officer."

Were we going

a tad over the speed limit?

He says, "You drugged-up,

hippie piece of...

...drugged-up hippie

piece of shit.

"You ain't doing

any speed, wanker!"

You weren't doing any speed

at all, you wanker!

"You are standing still...

...in the fucking fast lane

of the M-bastard-6!

"Of the M-bastard-6!"

Oh, no, oh, no, no, no.

That's terrible.

[Noah] We were.

We, we, we'd stopped,

we'd stopped, we'd stopped.

We must have run out of petrol

or-or-or something, you know,

and we were so fucking wiped out

and stoned out of our bonces,

we didn't even realize

we'd stopped.

And I'm-- I'm saying--

I don't know what I'm saying

to this copper.

I'm-- I've gone into--

I'm in another...

Have you got very big feet?

Oh, can I have a look

at your feet?

I'm an eight.

Although nine if you're

on the continent.

[chuckles]

If you're incontinent.

[laughs]

I mean, I don't know how

they didn't lock me up

and throw away

the key on that day.

"Ecilop" if you say it

backwards.

[laughing]

Right, you two

out of the car now.

He was not happy.

He was not a happy camper,

this, uh, this copper.

He's cross, he's cross,

he's cross,

-he's cross, he's cross.

-[officer] Just stay there.

Okay, I'll stay.

What, here, like this?

Not you. Him. Move it!

Do I stay?

Oh, he's staying there.

-He's staying there.

-So am I still getting out?

You're getting out

of the car now!

This is just--

That wasn't there.

Lookit, um...

my leg's gone to sleep.

Well, fucking wake it up

and get out.

All right.

That's funny, actually.

Did you hear what he said?

-[Ray] Yes.

-About my leg?

But anyway, so next thing,

cut to, bosh,

thank you very much.

Off you go, see the geezer

for a bit of-- [whistles]

You know, slapping.

So we got a bit of a wrist slap

for the drugs.

Judge is sitting there,

and he says, uh,

"I swear to God,

I don't know..."

I swear to God,

I don't know

what I'm going to charge

you boys with.

He goes, "Ah" he says,

"I've got it."

-He says--

-I've got it.

"I'm gonna charge you..."

I'm going to charge you

with dangerous parking.

"With dangerous parking."

[chuckles]

Fucking dangerous parking

we got done with.

[chuckles]

That's the funny story, Don.

[chuckles]

[sighs]

Obviously not.

Obviously not.

Sign there, please.

I feel a bit awkward now,

Don, I'll be honest with you.

Uh... I don't know

if I want to stay here.

You'll be fine.

How can I be fine

if I'm in here?

How does that work?

We'll make you better.

Ah, fucking hell,

will you?

-Yeah.

-I didn't know if I needed--

I didn't even know I needed

to be made to feel better.

I woke up in this girl's

flat this morning.

I don't know who she Is.

I've never seen her

before in my life.

She says, "Oh,

you're an alcoholic.

Yeah, I-- Yeah, I know

what they look like. I'm one.

Well, every fucker's one.

You're one.

Go on.

Fucking go to rehab."

I mean, rehab, rehab.

I'm in rehab. This is rehab.

I like a drink.

I like a drink.

I like-- Who doesn't

like a drink?

Do you have a drink?

Do you like a drink?

I Don't-- I know.

I didn't--

You'll help me, will you?

It's gonna be fine.

You've just got to relax

and we'll be here to help you.

Right, we'll have it

then, shall we?

We'll have a portion

of rehab, shall we?

-Yeah.

-Me and you and Harry.

Sign there for rehab?

Sign there for rehab?

Me on there for rehab?

You got it.

Give us it.

Give us it. Give us it.

Give us it, then.

Can I use him,

old twizzle?

How fucked up is he?

Look at that.

I think I'm fucked up.

Look at that.

Here you go, Noah Arkwright

fucking checking in.

Thank you very much.

How about that?

-How about that, Don?

-Thank you, Noah.

You're signed and sealed,

and now Harry will deliver you.

All right. Harry!

Come on, son, we're on.

[♪]

[humming]

No jokes or tricks on

the fifth floor. House rules.

I never saw a man change

so quickly in my whole life.

Half an hour ago,

this bloke greeted me

like his long-lost brother.

Now the miserable sod

can't even look at me.

Bugger.

And to add

insult to injury--

[flatulent sound]

Oh, that is...

I have to say, I thought

it was absolutely disgusting.

I mean, this bloke's supposed

to be a professional.

You know that was you.

I know that was you.

And all the other people in

this lift know that was you.

[♪]

Poo.

[bell dings]

Thank Christ for that.

That was a real methane

head-breaker, that was.

[♪]

[ping-pong ball bouncing]

All right.

First thing I see is this

emaciated bloke

with a pink Mohican

playing table tennis

with himself

and a girl with

no hair on her head at all,

apart from a tuft of peroxide

blonde over each ear.

And I catch a glimpse of

myself in the mirror.

It's like I've accidentally

been cast in

a version of

Cuckoo's Nest

for people with

stupid hairdos.

[laughs]

Yeah, yeah, yeah, all right.

Fucking hell

Oh! Bloody hell.

Hello.

Come on, Noah.

I'll show you to your room.

-Will you?

-Yeah.

Okay, come on then.

[vocalizing rhythmically]

Hey, what day does

the hairdresser come?

-What?

-No, I need to know

'cause I want

an appointment.

Oh, dear.

Hey, is it me, right,

or that Harry, is he

a fucking schizomaniac?

Please don't swear.

It's not necessary.

You shut up, you fucking

condescending bitch!

What do you know is necessary

or not, you slag?

Right, I want

a fucking large scotch

on a bloody great rock

of unstepped-on coke,

and if I don't get it

right now,

I'm gonna rip this nurse's

fucking windpipe out!

Get it?

Yeah, this is

the psycho ward all right,

and I'm definitely in

the right place.

[door slams]

[♪]

[man] How do you do?

I'm James.

I'm schizophrenic suicidal.

How long I stood there holding

James' limp-dick hand,

I have no idea.

I remember getting a whack of

I.V. Librium at some stage,

and then...

next thing I know,

it's nighttime.

[indistinct, ghostly voices]

I've lost time before,

stacks of times.

But this feels different.

This is--

This is not nice.

[water running]

[gurgling]

And before I know it,

I'm counting like it's

a school contest.

Thirty, 35, 40.

Go on, Jimmy,

get the record, son.

By the time I reach 70,

Jimmy shows no sign

of resurfacing.

[gurgling]

Then at just past 80,

his head starts to come up.

Bloody riveted by this.

The stupid bugger's actually

trying to drown himself.

And instead of trying

to stop him,

I wish I had

a Bolex camera.

This is great stuff!

"Help him, Noah."

"Fuck off!

This is not my shit."

Two minutes,

he's still under.

2:20.

Amazing!

Truly fucking bizarre.

It's like watching a murder,

but with the murderer

and the victim

all rolled up into

one bloke.

At just past

two minutes thirty...

[gasping]

...a murder is thwarted.

My first instinct is to clap.

Don't ask me why.

But then Jimmy starts to sob,

so it seems kind of

inappropriate.

So I do the most unhelpful

thing imaginable.

Here you go.

[sobbing]

You all right?

[sobbing]

Fuck.

[birds chirping]

I'd been in there--

I don't know,

maybe four months.

Could have been four years

for all I knew.

It's a "no time" zone.

They were pleased with me,

or so they said.

I'm a little harder

on myself.

I'm a man who never

suffered any pain

except that which

I brought on myself.

A man with the world

at my fingertips

and success in the palm

of both hands

who chooses to piss it all away

every day of my life.

I'm a drunk without

a single excuse.

An addict

without reason.

[woman]

That isn't true, Noah.

[♪]

And sitting there...

is my dead mother.

Do you mind if I smoke?

It's not allowed

in the rooms.

[♪]

So, how long are you

in here for?

But I can't speak,

can't take my eyes off her.

Her jawline so like mine.

Her ears the exact mold

for my own.

This is my mother.

She's come to see me...

and I can't cope.

Noah, try and speak

to me, pet.

It may be a long time before

I get to do this again.

Ask me the question

you want to ask me,

the question

I want to answer.

Why did you die?

I'd been, um,

33 hours in labor.

There had been a mix-up.

My-- My notes

had been mislaid.

My birth canal was blocked.

I should have had

immediate surgery.

By the time I was on

the table, I was...

too tired from the pain,

too full of morphine.

I was sure I could feel

your unborn fingernails

clawing at

the inside of my womb,

desperate to get out of me

before you died.

I heard the surgeon say

he could save only one life.

Wasn't a hard choice.

They, uh-- They dug you

out of me.

I lived long enough to

see you held up before me.

You were sucking in breath,

but you didn't cry.

I was addicted to morphine

in your womb, they said.

I had to be detoxed

at birth.

It was seven days

until I cried.

I didn't know that.

Perhaps I shouldn't have come,

but you were in so much agony,

I wanted to try to

take away your pain.

You have.

Be strong, my son.

I'll leave you with

a promise.

If you're ever suffering

this much again

and I am unable to come...

I will send an angel to you.

[♪]

[Ray]

Okay, motherfucker.

It's time to rock and roll.

You've been certified

clean and sober.

Now, if you'd do me the honor

of stepping through that door

and into your future.

[♪]

[Noah, distorted]

Ah...

Excellent.

[♪]

Cheers, son, cheers.

[laughter]

All right, cheers, son.

[overlapping voices]

Cheers.

Oh, that is nice,

that is nice.

Nice like this?

Nice.

What have you got there?

Coffee? Coffee? Coffee?

[chuckles]

Cunt.

What am I thinking?

That if I stare at this

innocuous cup of

the strongest

double espresso

this joint can muster

long enough,

then when I put it to

my mouth,

it will turn into

a triple scotch

and take me back

to that place

I left behind

all those months ago,

but that still yearns for me

to re-embrace it

like a long-lost cousin?

Sounds pretty poetic,

doesn't it?

Don't be fooled--

it's horrible.

Painful, nasty,

and horrible.

Painful, nasty,

and horrible!

Six months since I

stepped out of detox

and five since

my last drink.

I know, okay, well,

I'd been out

for about a month,

and I was giving a lecture

on screenplay structure

to a bunch of budding

Stoppards at Cambridge.

One raven-haired beauty

asked me some question

about film language,

which I gave

a suitably creamy answer to.

Then later, after hanging out

with her pals for a while,

we went back to her place,

she drunk and stoned,

me sober and horny,

horny, horny as hell.

[moaning]

So, next morning I planned to

take a piss,

have a sleepy-eyed fuck,

tape a note to the fridge,

and leave.

The piss was uneventful,

but on the way back to

the bedroom,

I had to pass through

the kitchen,

and who should be

sitting there with a huge

"Good morning, Noah,

how's it all going?"

grin on her face but

Auntie Ginnie herself.

[bell dings]

[rumbling and clacking]

[louder, speeding up]

I'd absolutely no intention

of touching a drop.

But before I know it,

I'm standing in

a stranger's flat,

naked as the day I was born

with my flaccid penis dangling

like the flag of

a defeated regiment,

guzzling neat gin

like a fucking maniac.

[groaning]

[screams]

[coughs]

You c--

You cunt.

[whimpering]

[coughing]

Cunt!

[♪]

[retches]

[moaning loudly]

Since then, I've been in

a kind of low-key hell.

I'm not drunk,

but I'm not sober either.

I like to think I am.

I often say I am,

but I'm not.

Somehow in

the last three months,

I've managed to

put together

a stylish docu-drama

on Jackson Pollock,

so artistically, I'm still

considered very cool.

The current

New York Time Out

carries an article

declaring...

"antediluvian"?

No, me neither.

But basically I'm regarded

as an arbiter of taste

in a tasteless business.

But I'm 200 miles from home and

a billion miles from my soul,

and I am not a happy camper.

Not a happy camper at all.

"So, what's new?"

as they say

in the U.S. Of A.?

Fuck-all.

I've been to meetings,

in detox and since,

A.A.:

Alcoholics Anonymous,

the fellowship,

the club.

I had a deep aversion to it

from the very start

and always passed on

the "how do you do?

This is me" bit,

which they're okay with--

it's not compulsory,

it's a kind of

whenever you're ready thing,

you know?

[man]

Hi, my name's Bill.

And looking up at

that banner,

at good old step 2,

which I'd looked

at many times before,

something inside me

snapped.

The resistance cracked

and splintered,

and I'm sitting there

sick and tired of being

sick and tired,

happy to become

a living slogan

if it'll take

the pain away.

Hi, my name is Noah...

and I'm an alcoholic.

[group applauds]

Truth at last.

And I was relieved and

pissed off at the same time.

I always thought my first

public declaration

would be floodlit, filmic,

with a soaring soundtrack,

effects,

the lot,

the full works.

[dramatic orchestral music]

Behold!

My name is Noah...

and I am an alcoholic!

♪ [Beethoven's "Ode to Joy"]

It would be a scene that

would prompt critics

on both sides of

the Atlantic

to use up column-feet

rocketing me into

a celebrated orbit to

circle the firmament

alongside the great

truth-telling auteurs of film.

-[music continues]

-[indistinct chatter]

-But no.

-[voices and music fade]

[group applauds]

My defining moment was

more like a wet, silent fart

than a blast

on a golden horn.

And I had meant it too,

really meant it.

I suppose that's

all that matters.

Will I ever drink again?

Dunno.

I hope not.

I can't say for sure.

Who can?

I know I'll never

enjoy booze again--

that's been taken away.

Guilt will always be

peeking over my shoulder

and whispering in my ear.

Remember, Noah,

it's the first drink which

gets you drunk.

Pressie.

We're so proud of you, Noah.

Six months-- that is a

serious achievement, mate.

-Mean it.

-Really?

It's not easy doing

what you done, you know.

[Kirstin] It's your

six-month chip.

Congratulations.

I'll leave you two boys

to talk.

Bye, Noah.

All right, see ya.

Thanks.

-Bye, babe.

-See you later, darling.

I wanna thank you

as well, mate.

What for?

Well, for Kirstin.

I mean, she really is

the most extraordinary woman

I've ever met.

You know, she's beautiful...

Oh, God, he wants me to

say something supportive

about the fact that

during this whole debacle

he's hooked up with

Kirstin and is shagging her

at a frightening rate

of knots.

She's funny,

she's intelligent...

When I wish I was.

He wants me to let him know

I'm pleased for him.

But I'm not.

I'm not pleased for him.

Or with him.

I partly resent it.

I saw her first,

didn't I?

For the first time

in my life, seriously,

I am a fucking happy man!

I'm not pleased for him,

I'm not pleased for him

at all.

I'm very pleased

for you, Ray.

And not only that, I can

fuck her day and night.

Oh, please!

Rub it in, I insist.

Let's get the K-Y

on the go here

and shove it

right up my jacksie!

That's good, good.

Noah, everyone needs

a partner...

to wit.

That is Clare Mattheson.

Yeah, I can see that, big

letters, "Clare Mattheson."

She's a cellist for

the string quartet, Marikos.

So it would seem from

the bloody great big cello

between the legs, unless,

of course, she nicked it.

This woman is

your partner...

for a sober future.

What the fuck are you

talking about?

Well, her quartet are playing

at the Fleming Hall

tomorrow afternoon and

I bought you a ticket.

You are gonna go

and see her play.

And after the show,

you're gonna go backstage,

you're gonna write her

a little note asking her

to join you for a nice cup of

tea and a cheese sandwich--

Have you gone round

the fucking bend, Ray?

Seriously.

Has Kirstin sucked all

the gray matter out

through your cock,

possibly?

I'm not joking, mate.

You are gonna do this.

I can't.

Yes, you can.

Why can't you?

Because it doesn't work

like that.

Well, how does it work?

I mean, you're hardly

the inner London

municipal area spokesperson

I mean, how do you know

if it works?

Well, maybe I'm not, Ray,

maybe I'm not, but, you know,

I'm gonna take an uneducated

stab in the psychological dark

that it doesn't work like that.

Noah, mate, take a look at

the magazine, yeah?

[♪]

I will send an angel to you.

[♪]

Love you both, right?

I fucking love you, just--

see you later, right?

Ta. See ya.

I felt bad about going

to the twins that night.

I just felt so horny.

Ray had got me

all worked up

with that Kirstin

bonkography.

I had to have sex.

I also had

a lot of drugs.

And booze.

Okay, I admit it.

Hey! You try it!

You try not touching booze

when you...

Fucking love it!

[echoes]

So I'm feeling like shit in

almost every department.

Falling-off-the-wagon hangovers

are a law unto themselves.

They hurt you in

many harsher ways

than regular ones.

And that cranberry piss

was a bit worrying, too.

[♪]

Now I've got

a few hours to kill

and get my shit together

before my blind date

with this

cello-playing woman.

Fuck, it's cold.

Icy cold.

Scary cold.

I feel edgy.

And I knowing it's

coming off me,

which is never

a good thing in London--

it exposes you.

The city gremlins

can feel you.

You smell like prey.

You are prey.

Shit, why did Ray have to

bring that article

with that bloody

what's-her-face on it?

Clare Mattheson.

You can do better than that.

Shout it out, laddie!

Clare Mattheson!

Got you!

Ah, your bum!

Got you!

You can't come in here.

This is my zone, my zone,

my zone, got you again!

-That's five, 10, 15, 20--

-[laughing]

-Twenty-five. Captured.

-Cheat.

[♪]

Clare, there's something

I gotta tell you.

I'm an alcoholic.

At least I was, I've been sober

for a few months now.

[♪]

Tell me everything.

Everything meaning what?

Everything meaning everything

you can remember

from the day you were born,

including the day you were born.

So I did.

My dad was dead by the time

I was seven,

I was living with...

I told her everything

I could remember

about my whole life.

When I was at school,

there was this, uh--

this t-- this art teacher,

and he this Bolex camera,

and it was him

who actually got me into

art college,

'cause he saw a couple of

my short films that I did...

And I woke up in her flat

and I'm puking up,

just puking up

in this kid's bucket,

this child's bucket.

Anyone who wanted a drink--

I'd be like that,

just go,

I'd just be with them.

I don't care what his name is,

what he does for a living,

whether he's a nice bloke,

whether he's a murderer,

whether he's

a fucking pedophile.

It didn't matter,

it didn't-- it didn't matter.

But now I suppose

the thing is to try and--

try and kind of

stabilize everything,

and-- and not be

such a prat, basically.

Because I've been a prat.

I know that.

[Noah] If I was...

And not once did I get

the feeling she was bored.

[Noah] 'Cause I've been

the bloke who'd get crazy...

And when I got to the part

about that whole crazy day

that ended up with me in

Bramwell Hospital...

And the next thing you know,

you wake up

and you're in fucking rehab.

She just stopped me

and said...

You see? That's just

a small bit.

One day, two days.

Don't let it be the focus.

It's just one small piece, hmm?

Come here.

-Thanks.

-Come here.

Thank you.

And I knew right then

and there that

I would spend the rest of my

miserable time on Earth

with this woman.

And that there was

a good chance

she could actually

save my life.

-Aah! Ooh! Ow!

-What?

-Oh, my God, fuck.

-What is it?

It was like a-- like a bloody

great big stitch suddenly.

Now it's gone.

Boy, that really hurt.

[chuckles]

I gotta go for a wee now.

-You all right?

-Yeah, I'm fine.

Just need to go for a slash.

Cor dear, that was horrible.

[♪]

[urinating]

♪ [Middle Eastern]

Don't shoot me, you muppet.

Shoot the kids.

[♪]

[girls laughing]

[♪]

-[music ends]

-[applause]

Merci. Au revoir.

Au revoir, les enfants.

Oh, what that was fantastic,

wasn't it?

-Fantastic.

-Oh, it's beautiful, man.

I'm gonna go back and

have a bath, I think.

Oh, okay, I'm gonna go

and see if I can get

a little bit of

refreshment, you know?

No, no, no, not that sort.

Just a little...

you know, maybe?

Is that okay?

Yes. Yes,

of course it is.

Look, look, alcohol

is my problem.

Drugs I've always been able to

take or leave.

-Really?

-Yeah.

Well, I always

thought that...

And you thought right,

Clare, my darling,

that I'm

a walking fuck-up,

so I talk in riddles.

You will come to know this.

No no, no, no.

Joint schmoint.

It's fine,

don't worry about it.

Okay, well,

that would be nice.

Okay. Okay. Okay.

I'll see you a bit later,

all right?

-Yeah.

-Be careful, won't you?

-Yeah.

-All right.

[♪]

I scored some weed

easy-peasy.

Should I have

stopped myself? Sure.

Can you be high and sober?

Course not.

For your luck.

Should I go back

to the hotel and tell Clare

I have some grass but

I can't smoke it with her?

Again, yes.

Aah, ahh, oh!

Oh, Jesus fucking-- Aah!

Aah! Aah! Aah!

[♪]

You need to go home,

my friend,

as soon as you can...

for you are unwell.

[♪]

[mumbling indistinctly]

What are you saying, darling?

What are you saying?

♪ ["Time In A Bottle"]

So, cut to

six years later,

as they say

in the movies.

How can you do that?

How do you do that?

Clare and I got married,

had a beautiful daughter

named Coral

who we made on the night train

to Marrakech.

First-time bull's-eye.

[Coral laughing]

Whoa, oh, here you are,

Mum, look.

And sadly the Moroccan

Goliath was right

and I discovered that I did

indeed have bladder cancer.

Big sobs all around.

Hello, who is it?

Oh, it's you, hello.

But I got rid of it.

Couple of times, in fact.

Trouble is,

it kept coming back,

as if it had

forgotten something.

Everybody out.

Like it wanted to chew

a bit more of my insides off,

you know?

Almost. Not bad.

It did look very nice,

I gotta tell you.

Very nice from where

I was standing.

[gibberish]

♪ But there never seems

to be enough time ♪

♪ To do the things

you wanna do ♪

♪ Once you find them

-Fish fingers.

-Again? Hey!

Anyway, touch wood, I've been

okay for over a year now

and decided to make

a film about

the whole experience

in true

indulgent-director-

craves-the-limelight fashion.

Blood and Milk,

I called it.

Seemed to have the right blend

of enigma and pretension.

Trouble is, I keep hearing

that obnoxious Yankee

movie trailer

voice in my head.

[deep male voice]

This fall,

love and

cancer collide...

[Noah] Wish cancer

would collide with

that annoying twat.

[clears throat]

We kept showing it to people

to get a reaction.

Kirstin lands in ten minutes.

Right, and what are you gonna

do when she gets here?

-Not smother her.

-Good. Very good.

Give yourself a blow job.

Since she went to live with

her family in the States,

Kirstin and Ray have been

having a bit of a rocky time,

but he's convinced her

to fly to London

so they can have

a powwow.

It'll be all right,

don't worry about it.

It'll be all right.

[indistinct chatter]

Right, let's do this,

shall we?

All right.

[sighs]

Mm-hmm.

[Ray] Yes, they did,

I'm telling you.

It played really well,

they loved it,

you fucking

deal with it.

Oh, they were bored,

they were bored, Ray!

[Ray] Jesus, allow yourself

to feel good for once,

you fucking

non-lugubrious farce.

Take it from me.

You have done an extremely

good job on this one.

You should be

very fucking proud.

I know.

If anything, it's gonna be

cathartic, isn't it?

Oh, what, turn the camera

on meself once?

Not particularly, no.

I'm just supplying

the disease, aren't I?

The rest is just

plain old storytelling.

[Ray] Oh, look at you practicing

your pithy quotes

-for the press release.

-[cell phone rings]

[Ray]

There you go.

Yeah, hello?

Yeah, it is, yeah.

[♪]

Eyewitnesses said

the Bentley Ray had sent

to pick her up as

a surprise

was cruising at 60

just past Heston services

when a container truck

came down the slip road

like a 40-ton

bat out of hell

and rammed it right into

the concrete bridge support.

Took the fire brigade

2 1/2 hours

to cut Kirstin out of

the wreckage.

[♪]

And in a small cemetery

outside Queens,

we buried her.

And I said goodbye to

the complete stranger

who helped to

save my life.

[♪]

[Ray]

We can use this shot.

We pan straight up to the nurse

when she's inside--

Okay, but as long as--

as long as inside of all that,

you've got the little girl...

After that,

we all dutifully tried to be

brave little soldiers

and look on the bright side

of Eric Idle's life.

We were all kind of waiting

for something to come along

and take our mind off it,

and lo and behold--

Ow! Oh, Jesus fucking Christ!

Never wanting to

disappoint the troops

in their hour of need,

I unselfishly supplied

the necessary diversion.

Fucking hell, man.

Oh, you cunt!

You cunt!

Et voila!

Smiling Doc Baker,

that's my consultant,

confirmed my suspicions.

Light claret,

cloudy with no body,

some sediment.

Not a good year at all.

Doesn't look good,

does it?

Could just be

a small regrowth.

And if it's not?

Well, if it's not, we'll--

we'll deal with it, old boy.

More chemo?

[clicks teeth]

Not-- Not an option,

I'm afraid,

no, no,

not after last time.

No, that was a bit severe, hmm?

No, bit severe, no.

Now, how many sessions

did we have?

We? I had ten.

I don't seem to remember

you having any.

-Right, right.

-Right.

And there was multiple

regrowth within the year.

So there was, Doc.

Fuck me sideways,

what a memory.

Fancy me not remembering that.

Mm-hmm.

Complete waste of time,

irony, with this bloke.

I've never known anyone take

anything so literally

that wasn't American.

No, if-- if, um, if chemo's

gonna be effective,

you know,

on the bladder,

it's gonna be

first time around.

Look, I mean, considering

the amount you took on board,

-you know--

-A liter.

What?

The amount I took on board.

Hundred CCs a session

for ten sessions--

I make that

one whole liter,

but then, you know,

I could be wrong.

What do I know?

I'm just the poor fucker

who took it up the dick!

Well, that's it, you see.

I mean, that is it exactly.

You just-- You don't want to

go through that again, do you?

I mean, mind you,

I-- I must say

you took it on the chin

like a champ, my God.

He really does use

these words. Sorry.

You even managed to

laugh about it.

You said something

very funny, what was it?

Kept your--

What was it?

Sense of tumor.

[laughs] Kept your

sense of tumor, ha!

That's it, that's it, that was

bloody, bloody good, that,

bloody good-- kept us in

stitches for weeks,

that did.

[chuckles]

Matter of fact, there was just

one of these hospital junkets,

vascular consulting chum

of mine, he was...

And on he goes,

blah, blah, blah,

about some

mindless anecdote

from who cares when.

But I'm gone.

I'm back in that room,

stark naked from

the waist down

as Dr. Patna shoves

a 20-millimeter plastic tube

up my urethra.

Routine for him,

not for me.

It's only my third

chemotherapy session.

So far it's been

easy-peasy:

no burning, no nausea,

no loss of hair,

a regular

stroll in the park.

So when will I know

when the chemo's

doing its stuff then?

We'll know the chemicals

have bitten deep enough

into the bladder muscle

when you find the pain

is intolerable.

Which, scary as it

may sound,

I can't really relate to,

'cause I haven't experienced

any of those things.

I'll look forward

to that then.

So I feel like the guy's

gonna get away with it.

In fact,

I feel so curiously detached

from the whole thing

that it's like a film

I'm directing

that I feel I'm not

getting enough from.

No, cut, cut, cut.

Hang on a minute.

Noah, listen.

What?

Can, um...

can you just give me

a little bit more, you know?

A bit more what?

Well, you know, fear, pain,

concern, you know.

This is-- This is chemo.

I think we need to--

Yeah, but I'm not--

I'm not feeling

any of those things, am I?

I can't just--

Well, you know

maybe you're not,

but can you just

pretend that--

that it's something,

you know,

'cause it's just, uh--

Well, it's not very good,

and, uh,

I'm not getting very much

from this, you know?

I-- I may have to

cut this scene.

That-- that would be

a shame.

Well, I'm sorry, I can't

just pretend something

that's not real, sorry.

That's just hokum, okay?

I'm not doing that.

That's fake, Noah.

That's totally fake.

I'm not doing that, man,

just not doing that.

Okay, okay.

I hear you, I hear you.

All right, okay.

Good, good, good.

-Hack.

-Fucking actors.

Right, what session's

this again?

Uh, third of ten sessions

altogether.

Ten, all right. Listen,

reset for session ten.

Joe, let's reset for

session ten, shall we?

All right, folks,

let's reset,

we're going for

session ten now,

session ten,

everybody.

But, of course,

it's not a film.

It's not a film at all.

[♪]

[screaming]

No, fuck off!

Get this out of me!

Fuck off, fuck off, fuck off,

fuck off I can't breathe!

Stay strong!

Work with me!

Oh, God, it's burning,

it's burning me!

-You can do it!

-I can't, I can't, I can't!

I can't, I can't, I can't,

no, no, no, no, no!

-[screams]

-[Patna] We're almost there.

There's just

a little bit there.

[continues screaming]

[incoherent muttering]

[distorted cello]

[Noah] Bigger!

Come on!

[screaming]

[Noah]

Come on, bigger!

[screaming]

[crying]

I don't want to die.

[crying]

[♪]

I don't want to die.

Miracles do happen.

I didn't die.

And apart from that

minor regrowth

which Doc Baker rather

expertly diagnosed

and then cauterized for me

in fairly short order,

it stayed away again

for another chunk,

lying there in wait

like a snake

in my personal

little undergrowth

until the day Clare told me

she was pregnant again.

Noah, you happy?

[Noah]

Of course I am, darling.

-That's fantastic.

-Go on, your go.

-What?

-You wanted to say something.

And that moment

right there

that I can

never have again...

Oh, God, no, no.

...came and went,

and I've been hiding this

latest treatment since then,

so scared it would

affect her or

the baby or both,

tried so hard

not to be selfish,

put other people first,

do the right thing.

I thought so anyway.

[Clare]

This should be one of

the happiest times

of our lives!

Our second child

on the way,

you're well, I'm sawing,

money's no problem.

Jesus Christ, Noah,

I even want you,

I'm even horny,

but you look at me

like I'm radioactive!

You know, maybe you

should think about

going to one of

those meetings,

because you are fucking

impossible at the moment!

Tell them I told you so!

[♪]

[Noah] And I'm getting

punished for it,

like I'm in some tacky TV

docu-drama soap opera

calledFuckup Street

or something.

♪ [theme song]

-[music stops]

-[remote clatters]

Clare's been spending

more and more time

with her best mate, Etta.

[♪]

Would you excuse us?

It was our first

weekend back in London

after our trip

to Morocco,

and who threw a party

to welcome her back

so I could be paraded around

as the new boyfriend?

[Etta] There you are.

Hello, love.

Hello.

-How are you, baby?

-Good, good.

This is-- This is

the famous Etta,

who is as talented

as she is interesting

as she is lovely

as she is gorgeous.

And this is Noah.

[gasps]

Oh, my God!

He's adorable!

Hello!

You see?

Straight away.

What am I, a fucking

Golden Labrador puppy?

Careful, love,

I might get excited

and shit on your carpet.

It's very nice

to meet you, Etta.

I enjoyed watching you play.

Clare's told me

all about you.

All good, I hope.

He's lovely!

Oh, goodness me,

aren't you cute?

Now you must have

a good stiff drink

and meet all these people.

No, 'cause I'm an alcoholic,

so I can't.

An alcoholic!

Isn't he funny?

What do you think we are,

in Hollywood or something?

But she didn't mention that

you were a tricksy bastard

and I'd have to watch

me back from now on,

but I've worked that out

on me own in five seconds,

so we're off to a flyer.

And the next thing I know,

she's sitting down

opposite me

with her legs

casually open

and she's not wearing

any knickers.

She is presenting her bush

to me full on,

and it's no mistake either--

it's a challenge.

I can feel it,

despite her efforts

to cloak it from the pack.

You're right-- second violin

is more relaxed.

-[man] Well, you have to be.

-Lazy, even.

And completely without

ambition, don't you think?

There, see?

Don't tell me

you didn't see that.

That is a full-on face-off,

or minge-off in this case,

and it's a top-notch minge,

as well,

but my dick doesn't get

the slightest twinge,

despite the fact this is

one perfect vagina.

[man] 'Cause otherwise

you get frustrated.

Yeah.

Don't pick up

the gauntlet, Noah.

[indistinct chatter]

I think so, I think

we've got to be

a certain type of person.

Why is that?

Because solos scare

the shit out of us.

[laughing]

[Etta]

Don't get me wrong.

We like to be heard

in rehearsal,

but if we don't

get our way,

I don't think

we put up a fight.

I suppose you could say...

you could say

we're easygoing.

I suppose you could

also say that

you're a scary,

manipulative witch.

Are you easygoing, Noah?

Oh, I don't like you,

darling.

-Me?

-Yeah.

-No.

-Not one little bit.

No, I'm not easygoing

at all, really.

What was the name of that...

And with that, the curtain

closes on the muff matinee.

Next show, 7:30.

So, what?

Did I pass that test?

Fail it?

Who knows?

I don't feel like I failed.

One thing I do know:

I despise Etta with all

of my black little heart.

And now,

seven years later,

she's at our cottage

with my wife

weaving God only knows

what kind of magic spells

and pulling all kinds of

weapons of my destruction

from her 9-out-of-10

front bottom.

And she even had

the front to invite me

to go with them to

my own fucking cottage.

"Oh, change your mind

and come...

Change your mind.

Come with us. Please.

Be so much fun.

No, it's all right,

you-- you girls go,

have a good time.

-Drive carefully, darling.

-Mm, I will.

[Clare]

Come on, Ett, jump in.

[engine starts]

Is it your cottage

that she is at?

Eh? You know it is,

you know it's

my cottage she's at.

Do you know where it is

and how to get there?

Mate, here, look, this is

what you do, all right?

You drive straight down there

and you surprise them.

What, now?

No, next February,

you fucking maroon.

[♪]

God, this hamper's

bloody heavy,

I'm sweating cobs here.

So what am I gonna do

when I get there?

I run through a few options

I'd like to do.

[whooshing]

Different attitude. Shift--

you have to shift, Noah.

[birds squawking]

[women laughing,

talking indistinctly]

-[water splashing]

-[women laughing]

[♪]

Suddenly, I didn't want them

to know I was there.

[women continue laughing]

I hadn't heard Clare laugh

for ages.

Hadn't made Clare

laugh for ages.

She looked so happy

and relaxed.

I didn't want to

spoil it.

[♪]

So I left, feeling

very unwanted

and disconnected...

to anything.

Adrift.

[woman] I'm Amy.

This is my second meeting

and I guess I'm an alcoholic.

I drove back to London

like a maniac

and next thing I know,

I'm sitting in

a midnight A.A. meeting

in Muswell Hill,

confused, lonely

and pissed off.

As Ray would say, my head's

a dangerous neighborhood

and I shouldn't be

walking through it alone.

Why am I here?

God knows.

Keeping it all in the moment,

like they keep telling me.

And I'm an alcoholic.

God, they look so perky.

Look at 'em:

sober, perky fuckers.

Yesterday's history,

tomorrow's a mystery.

Piss off.

Hi, my name is Fiona,

and I'm a grateful

recovering alcoholic.

Here goes,

and I know this is wrong,

but I can't stop myself.

Hi, everyone!

My name is Noah,

and, yeah,

you guessed it!

[cork pops]

I'm an alcoholic too!

And as grateful alkie Fiona

knocks of a quick impression of

Munch's "Scream"...

[screams]

Fucking have some champagne,

you fucking sober cunt!

You all fucking want it,

don't ya?

You love it, don't ya?

Go on, you fucking

sober wankers!

Just gonna pop out

and get some more.

Is that all right?

Won't be long.

By the way, Peter?

Love the suit.

Did I feel better after

the champagne debacle?

Obviously not.

Did I tell Clare

the cancer was back

when she got home

from the cottage?

No, I didn't.

I know:

weak, coward, wanker,

all three and others,

whatever.

But anyway,

as it turned out...

I mean,

come off it, Clare,

I haven't made a decent

film in ages.

You've almost finished

Blood and Milk.

The rough cut's beautiful.

Oh, it's an indulgence.

I think all films are

indulgences.

There's no cause

in storytelling.

Yeah, that's exactly

what I mean.

I might just fart about

in post-production, you know,

and I take a few meetings

here and there with

fucking disinterested,

fucking untalented

miserable fucking twats.

Apart from that,

I do fuck-all.

You've been very ill, Noah.

It's not your fault.

I know it's not my

fucking fault, Clare!

[♪]

Oh, my God.

Oh, Noah.

How long have you known?

Why didn't you tell me?

I just--

I don't know.

I just--

I don't know--

Look at you,

all tongue-tied, sweet.

You know what, Clare, why

don't I just fuck off a while

and leave you and Coral?

I'm so obviously just a pain

in the fucking arse.

You know what?

You know what?

Look at me.

Look at me.

When I signed up with you,

I signed up for

the full package,

all of it,

good and bad.

-You hear me?

-Yeah.

Yeah, it's not always

a bed of roses,

but you and I, together,

we can get through

anything, anything.

-You hear me?

-Yeah.

-You hear me?

-Yeah.

Tell you the truth,

I always thought roses were

vastly overrated anyway.

[chuckles]

[♪]

[crying quietly]

Clare Mattheson...

will you be mine?

Yes, I will.

Will you be mine,

Noah Arkwright?

Yeah, yes, I will.

[♪]

[sobbing]

Oh...

[sobs]

[muffled dialog]

So, everything

out in the open.

Good, thank God.

All hands on the same deck

again. Excellent.

I hadn't felt so normal

in months.

It was a great feeling.

Truth...

best drug on the market.

♪ [Classical]

She found it quite hard

to play with the bump,

but she said she

loved the idea of the music

vibrating through her body

into our unborn child.

I loved her so much

for thinking like that.

Ow! Oh!

[music continues]

Aah! Oh! Aah!

Ow, oh!

Oh, God, Jesus!

Oh. Ow! Ow!

[screaming]

Clares!

Clares!

[screaming]

[♪]

Jesus, it fuckin' hurts!

[yelling]

[♪]

[no audible dialog]

[♪]

[screaming]

[tires screech]

[gurney clatters]

[Noah] Oh, no.

[speaking indistinctly]

What are you saying, darling?

What are you saying?

[muffled] I think

this might be it.

I think this might be it.

Shut the fuck up, Noah!

Shut up!

[♪]

[gasps]

[weakly] Darling,

are you all right?

Yeah, the baby's coming.

Oh, Lord, what?

My waters have broken.

Can you get someone?

Ah, right. Pregnant woman,

broken waters,

uh, wheelchair.

That's it, yeah,

bring it in, bring it in,

tight ship,

tight ship, that's it.

-Go on.

-Don't you worry about me.

[Baker] There you are.

Nothing to worry about.

That's it.

There you are.

Be careful with her.

Oh, no, I don't want to

leave you.

I'm fine.

Go and have a baby

and stopping making

such a fuss, go on.

Don't worry, darling.

I love you.

I love you too.

See you later.

[♪]

Sorry about the attire,

old boy.

Bloody farmers' dinner

this evening.

No time to go home

and change.

Fox steaks?

What?

On the menu tonight,

is it fox steaks?

Oh, Lord.

[laughs]

No, no, no. No,

nothing like that at all.

No, no.

Buggers don't feel a thing,

you know,

at the kill, nah, no.

Spoken like

a true surgeon.

So...

Noah.

Looks pretty bad in there.

It's, um almost all

bloody tumor, you know,

it's hardly any

bladder left at all.

It's, um...

bugger struggled for you

though, you know,

and-- and we've--

we've done our best

to keep the blighter in,

you know.

But it's, uh--

it's come to that time, yes?

And he looks at me

expecting some kind of

resignation or other.

Well, I won't make it

easy for him.

Let him feel some of

the terror of the fox

when he has

nowhere to run...

and nowhere to hide.

Bottom line, old boy,

bladder's got to come out.

Immediately.

So, look, um...

you might want

to make some calls.

Mm-hmm?

Get the affairs in order,

that sort of thing.

And perhaps, uh...

write a couple of letters,

hmm?

You know, to your daughter

and, uh, of course, the baby.

You know, something they can--

they can read at a future date.

What are you telling me?

I'm telling you to write

a couple of letters, Noah.

[♪]

[door opens, closes]

[♪]

[baby crying]

[Clare]

Shh, shh.

Oh, shh, shh,

shh, shh, shh.

Shh, shh, shh,

shh, shh, shh.

[Noah]

She's got cello hands.

Have to get her

a mini one ASAP

so she can start

sawing away.

Yeah.

[♪]

[mother]

Go on, sweetheart.

Say what you need to.

You never know when you'll

get to do this again.

[♪]

I'm sorry I had to

leave you, Clare.

I tried to stay

as long as I could.

All the King's horses

and all the King's men...

Well, you know what their

track record's like, don't you?

Bloody piss poor.

[chuckles]

[♪]

[sobbing softly]

Oh, my angel.

My angel.

I'll always be here,

darling.

[sobs]

I do get to come

see Clare quite often.

They say it's because

we had a real connection

while I was alive

that you can stay

connected after you go.

Whoever "they" are.

You'd think you'd finally

meet "them"

on the other side.

Looked for them

all over the place,

but no one there seems

to know who they are either.

Turns out they

don't exist after all.

They're simply a figment of

our overactive imagination.

[♪]

Just another bloody

fairy story.

♪ How does it feel

♪ Runnin' around,

'round, 'round? ♪

♪ How does it feel

♪ Watchin' from

upside down? ♪

♪ 'Cause many years

from now ♪

♪ There will be

new sensations ♪

♪ And new temptations

♪ How does it feel?

♪ How does it feel

♪ Right at the start?

♪ And how does it feel

♪ When you are

thrown apart? ♪

♪ 'Cause many years

from now ♪

♪ There will be

new elations ♪

♪ And new frustrations

♪ How does it feel?

♪ Oh

♪ Oh

♪ Do you know, know, know

♪ What it's like

to be searching

♪ In your own time?

♪ All you're attempting

♪ Experimenting

♪ All on the climb

♪ Do you know, know, know

♪ What it's like

to be searching ♪

♪ And suddenly find

♪ All your illusion

♪ All your confusion

♪ All left behind?

♪ How does it feel

♪ Turning away?

♪ And how does it feel

♪ Facing another day?

♪ 'Cause many years

from now ♪

♪ There will be

newer poisons ♪

♪ And new horizons

♪ How does it feel?

♪ Oh

♪ Oh

♪ Oh

♪ Do you know,

know, know ♪

♪ What it's like

to be searching ♪

♪ In your own time?

♪ All you're attempting

♪ Experimenting

♪ All on the climb

♪ Do you know,

know, know ♪

♪ What it's like

to be searching ♪

♪ And suddenly find

♪ All your illusion

♪ All your confusion

♪ All left behind?

[♪]

♪ 'Cause many years

from now ♪

♪ There will be

new tomorrows ♪

♪ And still some sorrows

♪ How does it feel?

♪ Oh

♪ Oh

♪ Oh

♪ Do you know,

know, know ♪

♪ What it's like

to be searching ♪

♪ In your own time?

♪ All you're attempting

♪ Experimenting

♪ All on the climb

♪ Oh

♪ Do you know,

know, know ♪

♪ What it's like

to be searching ♪

♪ And suddenly find

♪ All your illusion

♪ All your confusion

♪ All left behind?

[♪]

[static]

[man] Here's something

for everyone.

[♪]

♪ Hey, hey, hey

♪ Two little maids

from school are we ♪

♪ Pert as a schoolgirl

well can be ♪

♪ All filled to the brim

with girlish glee ♪

♪ Two little maids

from school ♪

♪ Two little maids who,

all unwary ♪

♪ Come from

a ladies' seminary ♪

♪ Free from the dimwit

tutelary ♪

♪ Two little maids

from school ♪

♪ Two little maids

from school ♪

[♪]

[man chanting]

[man] Just look at

this place! [echo]

[♪]

[♪]

[♪]

[Noah's brain]

You charmer.

[♪]

[♪]

Someone needs to stop Clearway Law.

Public shouldn't leave reviews for lawyers.