Greenfingers (2000) - full transcript

Roses are red...

violets are blue.

I'm about to fuck up.
So what else is new?

This is what I call
my memory corner.

That forget-me-not
reminds me of my first love.

That cockscomb
evokes my late husband.

This dianthus came
from a cutting my mother gave me.

And I always think of my daughter
every time I look at a primrose.

I know how hard this must be
for you to understand.

It's hard enough for me.

I mean, why would any guy
go and violate his parole...



when he's already spent
half his life behind bars?

It's about bloody time.

Call it unfinished business,
if you like.

All I know is that
nicking a bunch of flowers...

is a bloody side different than
what they put me away for at 18.

The time I spent inside
was hell on earth...

but in a way, I welcomed it.

I guess I felt I deserved it
after what I'd done.

After 15 years, I had accepted...

that this is what my life
would always be.

But a year before I met you,
all that changed.

We have some news
which might be of interest to you.

We're transferring you to
Her Majesty's Prison Edgefield...

a more progressive institution.



We consider you to be an ideal candidate
for the work that they're doing there.

Congratulations. You're being
reclassified to Category D.

It's taken me a long time
to get used to this place.

I don't fancy the change.
So, if you don't mind, I'll stay put.

So this is what
fresh air smells like.

Follow me.

I'm Governor Hodge,
and this is our head of lifers...

Mr. Dudley.

You gentlemen have been selected
from prisons across the country...

to join other inmates
in our open system.

As you may have noticed
when you arrived...

there are no high walls,
razor wire fences or security cameras.

Nothing to stop you walking away.

Here at Edgefield,
we function on trust.

Show us you can be trusted...

and you're well on your way
to being paroled.

However, if we detect
any signs of antisocial behavior...

you will be immediately transferred
back to a secure prison.

Am I dreaming, or are they
serving us tea and biscuits?

Oh, yes, from the WRVS.

The Women's Royal Voluntary Service
run the visitor's canteen.

Holly, I'd like you to meet
our new arrivals.

Hello.

Help yourselves to tea,
gentlemen.

You must be parched.

Come on, don't be timid.

- I can recommend the chamomile.
- Chamomile it is, then.

- Not bad, eh?
- Yeah, it's all right.

My name is Fergus.
Fergus Wilks.

Yeah, Dudley told me
you'd be arriving today...

and I've been looking forward
to meeting you.

My last bunk mate
achieved his freedom...

over two months ago...

and it's a bit solitary
in here, you know?

Yeah, it'll be good to have someone
to pass the time of day.

Listen, mate, I keep myself to myself.
I'm not looking to bond with no one.

I'm just gonna do my time,
keep my nose clean, all right?

Perfectly understandable.

I felt the same way myself
when I was your age.

But after a while,
I felt my own company...

pretty damn boring,
if you want to know the truth.

Watch it, old man!
Fuck! For Fuck's sake!

I'm really sorry.

- Sorry.
-Jesus.

I don't like that fellow.

Strange one, isn't he?

What's he in for?

He's a menace to society,
like the rest of us.

What you in for, then?

Halfway through a six stretch
for armed robbery.

- And you?
- Murder.

Same here.
I'm innocent.

I'm not.
Caught me on video, didn't they?

You're a bit of an early bird,
aren't you?

Shit, shaved and showered before
I even put my two feet on the floor.

Oh, by the way,
a word of advice.

They're going to put you lads
to work today.

Do yourself a favor and steer clear
of building maintenance.

Laundry.
That's the place to be.

Come winter, when everybody's
balls are frozen...

you'll have the warmest
seat in the house.

I've a certain influence
in laundry matters.

In fact, the governor doesn't let
anyone touch his shirts but me.

Not a lot of people know that.

This is not a holiday camp.
Everyone works here.

No free rides.
Not for the governor, not for me...

and certainly not for you lot.

While here, you'll be required to work
a job where you'll learn a trade...

and thus be prepared for employment
upon your release.

Together, you and I will find
a job which suits you best.

We have half a dozen job options
for you, Mr. Briggs.

Yet Dudley informs me
you remain unemployed. How so?

I don't care where you put me.

It's not a question
of where we put you, Mr. Briggs.

It's more a question of where you
put yourself.

It's all the same to me.

It doesn't make a scrap of difference
whether I'm doing laundry...

peeling potatoes or carving
rocking chairs out of oak trees.

With my record,
when I do get out of here...

I'll be lucky enough
to get any bloody job at all.

So, you know, whatever.

You leave me no choice
but to make the decision for you.

- Where are you going?
- Home.

- Can I come?
- Very funny.

- Why don't you stay and watch me play?
- I already have. You're terrible.

Oh, yeah?
I'm a bloody marvel, me.

- Can I help you?
- What's wrong with him?

He's in for his
chemotherapy treatment.

- Cancer?
- Yes.

Along with retinitis pigmentosa,
osteoporosis...

and arthritis in his feet.

Do me a favor.
Don't tell him I came here.

Did you miss me?

Didn't even notice you were gone.

You were right
about building maintenance.

It stinks.

Thanks for saving my plant.

I just gave it a bit of water,
that's all.

Sometimes it takes very little
to put things right.

- Merry Christmas.
- Thank you, Santa.

Oh, not too much.
That's it.

Is he still telling his mates
his daddy's dead?

Go and speak to him,Jimmy.
But don't expect too much.

Well, then.

I hear school's going great.

Tony, you've got a stiffy.

So?

It's against regulations.

I'd like you to meet my sister Mary.
I've told her so much about you.

- I'm not good with families.
- You're becoming a bore.

Well, you can have these anyway.

- Merry Christmas, Colin.
- For fuck's sake, don't do this.

Too late.
I've done it already, haven't I?

You sure this is a good spot?

Give me the seeds.

- You all right?
- Fine.

You know it's a total
waste of time, don't you?

It's so cold, those little
buggers don't stand a chance.

They said that about me,
didn't they?

But I proved them wrong.
I turned my life around.

Turned your life around?

What are you talking about?

You're a blind, crippled old fart
who's been locked up all his life.

Even if you get paroled, you won't
have any time left to enjoy it.

I'll never be paroled, Colin.

What?

I'm one of the few in here
who'll never walk out.

I'll spend the rest of my days
in Edgefield.

- I've got it!
- No, I've got it!

What a goal!

- Cheers, Holly.
- Hello, Tony.

It's really sweet.
But it's against regulations.

I know it is. Will you just
put it in your hair?

It's lovely.

Where'd you find it?

I find it right near the pitch.

I better get back.
They got no chance without me.

I'll see you later, yeah?

- Spring is here.
- What?

You can't see a bloody thing.
Why do you bother with those specs?

They hide my wrinkles.

I've got better things to do,
you know?

We should have marked the spot.

You know, I'm sorry, old man.
I've had enough of this.

- You've found them, haven't you?
- Yes.

Are they beautiful?

Very.

- They never stood a chance, Fergus.
- I told you.

It's all about defying the odds.

Adversity is your ally, Colin.

What?

Make friends with your misfortunes.

Otherwise, you'll always be angry.

Toss it back, will you?

- What'd you go and do that for?
- You ruined our bleeding flowers.

- I what?
- From now on, this area is off limits!

Hey, lads, come and get this.

- What's up?
- What's the matter?

The football pitch is now off limits.
Want to know why?

In case we trample
their little pansies.

- Wouldn't that be a catastrophe?
- If it ain't the lilies of the field.

Look here. I don't think we give a shit
about your fucking flowers.

Come on, Raw!

That'll do.

We don't look upon altercations
very fondly here at Edgefield.

Much less those
resulting in bloodshed.

- And all over a pansy?
- A violet, sir.

A double violet, actually.

- A double violet?
- And a scented one at that.

In this terrible
limestone soil of ours?

Pity.

And your football
inflicted this damage?

We didn't see no bleeding flowers, sir.
We were just playing.

Raw, if you and your teammates
want to continue playing football...

you will have to assist
Mr. Briggs and Mr. Wilks...

- in their horticultural endeavor.
- Our what?

Mr. Briggs,
you've just cleaned your last toilet.

- You have your green fingers to thank.
- That's bollocks, sir.

These flowers are a fluke.
I don't know nothing about them.

A new work program has just
been born here at Edgefield.

Gardening.

- Gardening, sir?
- That's right, Dudley. Gardening.

Look at the boobs on this.

I'd like to get a whiff of that.

Guys, the governor is expecting
a proper garden by next spring.

And from what I've read,
it ain't gonna be easy.

I'd take laundry duty
any day over this shit.

This here is women's work.

Yeah, I mean, look here, Briggs.
We'll gladly give up football.

Gardening ain't for the likes of us.

They're right, Fergus.
Who are we kidding?

We're not bloody gardeners.

I saw the look in your eyes
when you spotted those flowers...

and it was love at first sight.

We've been prisoners
long enough, Colin.

Let's be gardeners.

Now, think about it.
This was the governor's idea, right?

Yeah. So?

And who do you think
carries the most weight...

when your parole review comes around?

The governor.

Right. So,
we plant a nice little garden...

and you lads stand to get the governor's
personal recommendation for release.

Not a bad idea.
Wouldn't you agree?

So let's just get on with it
and cut the crap, shall we?

We've prepared a list
of things we need, sir.

Well, there's a fork and spade,
obviously.

A pair of shears,
some branch loppers.

- And don't forget the hoe.
- Oh, yeah, a hoe.

And a Weed Wand.

A Weed Wand? How interesting.

Oh, it's a wonder.
It's a nifty little gadget.

Looks a bit like a bicycle pump
with a blowtorch on the end of it.

Just aim it at them nasty little
weeds, pull the trigger...

and blam, nukes 'em,
right down to the roots.

Anything else, gentlemen?

- Hats and gloves, I suppose.
- Yeah.

Bottle of suntan lotion
would be nice.

Indeed it would. And have you
calculated the cost of all these items?

Yes, sir.
We've prepared a budget.

Very well.
I, too, have prepared a budget.

You want in, my love?

Are you sure this is a good idea?

Don't you think you're pushing it
with spades in the hands of murderers?

''The best place to seek God
is in a garden.

You can dig for Him there.''
George Bernard Shaw.

This would do, wouldn't it?

- What do you think, Colin?
- I don't know, you know.

- We're still looking for sunlight.
- We're in England. Don't expect much.

- Come on.
- No, it's no good.

My God, Susan.
Have you read all these?

Then it's high time someone did.

Georgina Woodhouse says it all
comes down to two basic questions.

What do you want your garden to do...

and what flowers do you want to grow?

Fergus, what do I want
my garden to do?

I thought it was our garden.

Eighty, eighty one, eighty two,
eighty three, eighty four--

- Don't tell me what to do, Briggs.
-Just hang on a minute.

I'm tired of waiting.
This spot's as good as any.

- Why are you in such a hurry?
- 'Cause I ain't gonna be here forever.

I'm gonna get out there.
I'm gonna make something of myself.

- I asked you not to do that.
- I ain't standing on no sidelines.

I got just as much say in this
as anyone. Look at me, right?

The daffodils,
they're going right here.

I never said anything
about fucking daffodils!

- If you don't mind.
- Come on.

The old man'll decide
where the garden goes.

I'm leaving, Tony.
Today's my last day at Edgefield.

- Why?
- Because...

every time I look at you,
I go all wobbly.

The feelings I have for you
are totally inappropriate...

and before I bring further dishonor
to the Women's Royal--

Meet me in the woods
behind the garden.

You see this?

Hampton Court Palace Flower Show.
Biggest in the world, it is.

Oh, my God.
Oh, let's enter.

You're dreaming, old man.

I've never won an award
in my entire life.

This could be my big chance.

You want something
to show off at the picnic.

All right. Now it's time...

to germinate.

With a little cooperation
from Mother Nature...

we should have a jolly nice
little garden come this spring.

''Her Majesty's Prison Edgefield...

more closely resembles life
on a university campus...

than a citadel of reform
for Britain's worst blights.

The so-called open prison is in fact
an open invitation to disaster.''

Bastards.

Why does your family
never come to visit you?

They want nothing to do with me.

Will you never tell me
why you're in here?

If God could find it in His heart
to forgive me after what I've done...

He's not going to quibble
over your sins, lad.

You're sure about that, are you?

I killed my wives.

I passed the first two off
as accidents...

but when I got around
to the third...

it wasn't the police
that worked it out.

I gave myself up.

I come to terms with the fact...

that alcohol turned me
into something terrible.

I'd say.

I'll be doing porridge
till the day I die.

Which could be anytime,
my friend.

Not many more opportunities
for heart-to-hearts.

I'm not the confessing type.

We're starting up
a vegetable garden next.

Fancy them more than the flowers.

That's what I'm gonna do when I get out.
I'm gonna be a gardener.

What do you think of that, John?

Mom says that won't be
till I'm away at university.

No, I'm gonna be out
in about 18 months.

That will be
up to the parole board, Jimmy.

I went ahead and painted it
for myself...

just in case I don't make it
to spring.

You'll make it.

Splendid. Just splendid.

It's a great day for you, gentlemen,
and a great day for Edgefield.

What did I miss?

I was just telling your colleagues...

how pleased I am with your
horticultural endeavor, Mr. Wilks.

We now have heaven under our feet
as well as over our heads.

I'm such a fan, Mrs. Woodhouse.

To Marjery.
I have one quick question.

I have an unruly cotoneaster shrub.

What should I do?

Go for the chop, dear.
Give it a nice haircut.

One must never be afraid
to use one's loppers.

Thank you very much, Mrs. Woodhouse.

And who shall I inscribe this to?

To Colin, Fergus,
Tony, Jimmy and Raw.

Raw?

Mrs. Woodhouse, I was wondering
if you might be so kind...

as to visit a garden that
my husband's employees have planted.

They did it all on a micro-budget,
and they were inspired by your writings.

I'm frightfully sorry, but now
that my mother's coming to an end...

we're looking forward
to a cup of coffee.

Well, splendid.
We can give you one.

We're only ten minutes from here.
Please, it would mean so much to them.

Primrose, you don't say
we're at an end.

You say we're on a punishing schedule
and we're running late.

I simply can't tell lies
the way you can.

I can't. I blush up
like nobody's business.

Social know-how
isn't lies, Primrose.

That woman didn't say...

anything about a prison, did she?

Such a jumble, all these
disconnected dabs of color.

I really rather like it.

Who would have thought that
the dogtooth violet...

would be so compatible with that
straggling group of daphne mezereon.

Really quite a success,
considering that Arctic winter of ours.

How about a big smile,
Mrs. Woodhouse?

I beg your pardon?

I hope you don't mind,
Mrs. Woodhouse...

but open prison's been the brunt
of such bad press lately...

we thought Edgefield could use
some good P.R. for a change.

If you'll just stand in the middle
next to the prisoners?

Thank you. Darling.

So, Mrs. Woodhouse, what do you think
of a garden made by murderers?

Murderers?

Just one or two of them, ma'am.

I really rather like it.

Perhaps you and your daughter
would care to join us all for lunch.

Thank you all very much...

but we're on a punishing schedule
and we're running late.

It's been a long morning.
We'd be delighted to join you.

Good. This way.

Mr. Briggs, have you always
had green fingers?

- Only when he picks his nose.
- Don't mind him, ma'am.

Too many blows to the head.

Well, actually, I just started
gardening about six months ago.

- Then you have made strides.
- Nothing you couldn't do, I'm sure.

I'm afraid in my case,
the apple fell far from the tree.

To my mother's
profound disappointment...

I'm a total disaster in the garden.

- Really?
- Oh, her father was even worse.

Refused to get out of the hammock.

Of course, the gin and tonics
didn't help.

So, tell me,
what stops you chaps...

from just, you know, absconding?

That'd be stupid, ma'am.
There's too much at stake.

We'd go straight back
to a closed prison.

And we've all seen our share
of dark days at Wormwood Scrubs.

All right, gentlemen,
back to your duties.

It was an honor to meet you,
Mrs. Woodhouse.

Watch out for slugs and sooty mold.
They can absolutely make life hell.

Bye. And best of luck
to you, Mr. Briggs.

So tell me,
who did what and to whom?

It's quite a notion
for a prison, isn't it?

The tomatoes are more confined
than the prisoners.

Now you sound like
our local member of parliament.

''The only way prison works
is to keep people locked up.''

If our M.P. had his way,
Gerald would never be allowed...

to let the men out
on work release programs.

Work release?
I don't suppose this would qualify...

but I've been commissioned by a couple
to do their gardens at Ozlebury House.

My own gardeners
are so overextended...

they're going to stage a mutiny
if I ask them.

This way. Over here.

Primrose, go and see
if our clients are around.

I'm sure they'd love
to meet the boys.

No one's called me a boy
since 1 929.

Some have it all, Raw.
The rest have fuck all.

That's the way the mop flops.

Some people, they see this
as just a mound of earth.

But I, on the other hand,
see it as the commencement...

of our homage to the goddess Flora.

Hello, everybody.
Hello, Georgina, darling.

So kind of you all
to give Georgina a hand.

- I'm Lawrence. This is Nigel.
- How do you do?

Anything we can do to make your time
more enjoyable, don't hesitate to ask.

- I do hope you like shepherd's pie.
- We've got trifle for dessert.

All right, well, excuse us.
We've got work to do.

- Off you go.
- See you later. Bye.

Let's get started.

No more lectures.

And hosting yet another benefit
for the Orchid Society...

is equally abhorrent.

No! You can't treat
wisteria so cruelly!

You cut into the hardwood,
it'll never flower next year.

All right. I don't know. You'll
have to settle the days with Primrose.

Where is she?

Teatime!

Bag! Bee!

Just a little honeybee.
Perfectly harmless.

A little honeybee to you,
but it could be death to me!

Let it alone! I'll get it.

We need to get her to a hospital.

- She'll be all right, won't she?
- Yes.

It's an allergic reaction.
Nothing too serious.

The only time
she gets a week's rest.

All right.

- See you then, then.
- Oh, no.

I'll be by tomorrow morning
to collect you all.

Mother's orders.

- What the devil is he up to?
- I'm just beginning to imagine.

We do have a loo, you know.

Nigel, you're a spoilsport.

Morning, sweetheart.

That's from
''The Lady and the Unicorn'' series.

The lady and her handmaiden
are holding clove scented carnations.

Don't go for carnations much, me.

- What'd you pay for it?
- Oh, couldn't put a price on it.

It's been in my family
for over 400 years.

I hope you got
a good alarm system.

Falstaff's the only alarm we need.
Aren't you, boy?

How's everything going,
Mr. Briggs?

Good. How's your mother?

They took her off
the defibrillator today.

Glad to hear it.

You don't fancy
giving me a hand, do you?

Oh, no. I'd be more of a hindrance
than a help.

Don't be silly.
Come and help me with this.

No, don't be so timid.
Just go for it.Just rip it apart.

That's it.

Right. Okay,
now we place it in the ground.

You're home.
Well, you know what I mean.

That's all right.
It is my home.

I think Mother would be really
pleased with what you've done.

- Thanks, Miss Woodhouse.
- Primrose.

It's a lovely name.

I despise it.

Good night.

Guys, we're out of here.

Cheers, Miss Woodhouse.

I know, babe. I know.
Just wait.

Listen to me.

Don't go worrying about money,
all right? I'm gonna figure it out.

Oh, Tony, what have we done?

Silver foliage?

It was quite clear in my design
that I wanted purple foliage.

When this clay soil goes cold in the
winter, the silver will never survive.

- Yes, it will. I've seen to it.
- Have you?

A problem that's plagued the gardeners
of Gloucestershire for two centuries.

I think that if you plant simple
quartz crystals, they radiate warmth.

They don't interfere with the roots,
and they don't add any chemicals...

to upset the clay's
natural pH balance.

Upon what do you base
this conclusion?

I've been experimenting at Edgefield.
There's loads of clay courts there.

I suppose that no one's ever bothered
to mix the two together.

No, I don't suppose they have.

Well, Mr. Briggs,
you have quite a future.

They are the most brilliant and
talented prisoners you'll ever meet.

The work they did for me
at Ozlebury House was simply stupendous.

One in particular
has a great deal of talent.

I wish to sponsor them
in their first show garden.

At Hampton Court?

I can just see the front page
of the Daily Mail on opening day.

''Her Majesty surrounded
by murderers, rapists and such.''

Now, there's a photo op.

It might do us some good.
It's sure to boost attendance.

Well, I'm against it.
We have the public safety to consider.

My personal recommendation
has paved the way...

for many an upstart's entree
into this charmed circle.

Including yours, Julian.

And let us not forget what Her Majesty
the Queen had to say on the subject.

''Gardening has been a national
obsession for centuries.

There cannot be
any other occupation...

that absorbs equally
every section of society.''

- We're going to Hampton Court.
- Brilliant!

- All right!
- I love you!

''Hampton Court Palace.''

I'm thinking of a field of tulips...

with a babbling brook
running through the middle of them...

and wooden shoes
overflowing with poppies.

What about doing something
typically English...

but with a tropical slant?

Recreating Stonehenge in Hawaii.

I was thinking about a vegetable
garden. Like, on the moon?

A scented garden would be nice.

Chock full of English roses,
honeysuckle, lilies.

I'm seeing wildflowers.
All shapes and sizes.

Bluebells, sunflowers, daisies--

Daisies, tulips, fucking bluebells?
I can't take this anymore.

You lot are a disgrace
to the prison system.

Greek legend tells us that when
Aphrodite was hurrying to the side...

of her dying love Adonis,
she was scratched by a thorn...

as she pushed her way
through a white rose hedge.

And forever after, the blooms
have been tinted red with her blood.

I think a scented garden
is a lovely idea for Hampton Court.

It was Fergus' choice.

His sense of smell is one of the few
things he's got that still works.

Primrose, did you know that
a white rose signifies purity...

a yellow rose
marks the end of an affair...

and a red rose signifies passion?

Really? I never knew that.

How's that?

Not too hot, I hope.

Now, then...

this comes from Miss Georgina's
private supply.

The caviar of them all, it is.

Now, listen...

I don't want you
getting stressed out...

just because you're in the mother
of all garden shows.

I mean, it's hard to believe,
I know.

But just because you come
from a little prison garden...

doesn't mean to say you
can't compete with the big boys.

You can.

You've got just as much chance
as any of the others.

You know, Susan...

I think we've got a chance
for a prize at Hampton Court.

I truly do.

I hope so, sweetheart.

And now back to rural crime.

Jane Caventry reporting
from Ozlebury House.

Can you tell us
exactly what happened?

We arrived home from the opera
to find the entire house ransacked.

They took it all.

Irreplaceable artifacts
dating back to the 16th century.

It's a devastating loss.

I know the police are investigating,
but do you know who might have done it?

No, none at all.

Well, obviously,you have to consider
the prisoners from Edgefield, don't you?

I believe they were doing some work
in your garden only a month ago.

Isn't that correct?

The perpetrator of the crime
was apprehended this morning...

in Bristol, boarding a train.

He had a plan of Ozlebury House.

Says he bought it
off one of the gardeners.

The police suspect one
or all of you men.

I'm giving you until
tomorrow morning to sort out...

which of you sold those house plans.

If I don't hear anything by then...

you'll all be shipped back
to a real prison.

Is that clear?

This couldn't have happened
at a worse time.

What about the flower show?

Cancelled.

What you looking at?

You were the only one of us
who set foot in the house.

They invited me in for a piss.

Little shit!

Boys, I swear on my baby's eyes
it wasn't me!

Look, mate--

You short-termers
always screw it up for us lifers.

Sarah, if the kid hears
about that robbery at Ozlebury House...

you tell him
I had nothing to do with it.

Nothing whatsoever.

And you tell him about Hampton Court,
because I'm sick of disappointing him.

Raw, where are you going?

I'd rather sleep in the potting shed
than stay here.

Cheers, mate.

Next week,
our guest is Georgina Woodhouse...

to tell us all about
the Hampton Court Palace Flower Show...

the blockbuster gardening
event of the summer.

The outdoor gardens represent the cream
of the world's horticultural talent.

Today's big names
and the stars of the future...

all of whom
will be digging for victory.

It's one black mark
on an otherwise untarnished record.

That's still one too many from
the point of view of public confidence.

After all,
the young man is still at large.

Don't close us in, Peggy.

Most of these men are coming to the end
of some very long sentences.

They've got to be prepared.

If they're not, they're far more
likely to commit further offenses.

We've been in the outfit
a long time, Gerald.

You know I respect the work
you're doing here at Edgefield.

But until this thing cools down...

all work release programs
in the private sector are suspended.

Does the secretary of state support
or decline the prisoner's release?

Here's the letter, sir.

I see from your file you've served
the greater part of your sentence.

You think you're ready
to rejoin society?

I would imagine
that I'm the only one here....

who knows what it means
to have taken a life.

You think about it every day.

And you wish that someone would
just take yours and get it over with.

But then one day...

you discover
that you can give life.

Create life.

Grow something that needs caring...

feeding.

To those of you sitting here
thinking that...

rehabilitation through gardening
sounds too stupid to swallow...

that's your right.

But most of my life
was spent in a bang-up jail...

and a prisoner is all
I thought I'd ever be.

But today, whether
you parole me or not...

I no longer think
of myself that way.

I'm a gardener.

Bloody good one, as well.

And to any of you wrestling
with your own unresolved issues--

you know, displaced anger,
that sort of thing--

I recommend it highly.

Good-bye, lads.
Do your best for me while I'm away.

I'll try and visit you
as much as I can.

I'll miss you.

I'll miss you too.

Ah, go on.

Hope I never see you again.

Make sure you bag the roses
at the first sign of frost.

I won't forget.
You can depend on me, son.

I was 18 and totally wasted
the night I caught them together.

She was the girl
I was planning to marry.

He was my brother.

My baby brother.

I lost it.

I just went for him.

I didn't know what I was doing.

When he stopped fighting back,
I realized what I'd done.

My mom and dad
never spoke to me after that.

They acted as if both their boys
died that night.

All I got left of him
is a photograph.

Take this with you
to the outside.

I don't want it to die
in here with me.

Remember, Briggs,
one small fuck-up...

and you'll be straight back
to Edgefield.

Now then,
you sure you don't need a lift?

No, thanks.

Sorry about Hampton Court. It meant
just as much to me as it did to you.

- I know it did, sir.
- Good luck out there.

Good luck in here.

We just lost our best gardener.

I hope you like it.

It's all I could find
in your price range.

- Okay?
- Yeah.

It's been a long time, Primrose.

For me as well.

Fifteen years.

Well, not quite that long.

So, tell me, Colin.
How are you adjusting to your new life?

I think the transition's been made
much easier by your daughter.

Those who get out and have no one--
don't know how they do it.

Oh, yes. Must be terribly hard.

Mother, you've always attributed
the failure of all your relationships...

to the fact that none of the men
were any good in the dirt.

Well, I've found one who is.

Have you?

And he could really use your help
finding him a job.

Oh, my.

Oh, excuse me.

Bit dramatic, don't you think?

That was very rude, Mother.

Oh, Prim, you know
how fond I am of Colin...

but, honestly, dear,
the man was serving a life sentence.

God only knows what he did.

He killed his brother.

It was an accident.

And who knows what might
trigger it off again?

I mean, it could be over
the most trivial of things.

I shudder to think of the consequences
if you should burn the Sunday roast.

It's funny how open-minded
you are about him publicly.

But when it comes to my happiness,
suddenly he's judged by what he was...

and not by what he is.

That's what I like about plants.

They don't answer back.

He's destroying that topiary.

The border needs fortifying.
The guy doesn't know what he's doing.

We'll find you a garden of your own.
Don't worry.

You've been saying that all summer,
and still I'm a delivery boy.

I've been to every nursery
and garden center in the area...

but, you know, I'm an ex con.

I'm knocking and looking.

What's it gonna take--
a personal reference from the queen?

It was the housekeeper
who gave the plans to her boyfriend.

The wanker tried to blame us
to save her ass.

So Tony was telling the truth.

Hey, did you hear about Hampton Court?

They've invited us back to do a garden
for next year's flower show.

No shit. You lucky bastards.

Yeah. Colin, listen. Listen. How
we gonna do a garden without you, mate?

What are you talking about?
You've got Fergus. He's artistic.

Fergus ain't doing too well.

He's gone downhill since you left.

Really?

Tell him I'll pop in for a visit
real soon, yeah?

- All right. Bye, son.
- All right. Gotta go.

- Take care.
- See ya.

Roses are red...

violets are blue...

I'm about to fuck up.

So what else is new?

They say that, to abandon
one's life for a dream...

is to know its true worth.

I've got this crazy idea in my head...

that I'm good enough
to win something at Hampton Court.

It's a hell of way
of going about it...

but then I've always done things
the wrong way around, haven't I?

Please forgive me for this because
I certainly won't forgive myself.

I hope this is the last time that
anybody ever sends you yellow roses.

Hello, boys.

I'm very disappointed in you,
Mr. Briggs.

Our hope at Edgefield is...

once a man is released,
he never returns.

That said...

I'm expecting you to pull out
all the stops at Hampton Court.

What's this thing doing back here?

It wasn't quite ready for the outside.

Welcome back, Greenfingers.

I have to say I'm a bit miffed to see
how well you guys have done without me.

- It ain't like the old days no more.
- Hello, Colin.

Hello,John.

There's a waiting list
to get in here now.

Jimmy and me have been having
a think, Colin...

and we decided that we want you...

to come up with a design
for Hampton Court.

Gentlemen, the home secretary...

and the prison's minister.

Most impressive.

The home secretary's quite
a gardener himself.

Oh, you exaggerate, Peggy.

I'm what you'd call
an armchair gardener.

More an inveterate reader
of other people's exploits...

than an actual tiller of the soil.

The home secretary's come up
with an idea for Hampton Court.

Mind you,
it only just hatched over lunch.

I thought we'd go for a bit
of the unexpected.

A rock garden.

Lots of prickly, hard plants...

with not the slightest hint of color...

representing incarceration
with the goal of freedom symbolized...

by a juicy, red strawberry archway.

I didn't break my parole
only to be laughed out of Hampton Court.

There's something much bigger
at stake here than a flower show.

After years of fighting the home office,
we've just recently begun...

to make inroads to ensure
the survival of open prisons.

Look. Put your ego aside
for one moment...

and give some consideration
to the scores of inmates...

working through the system who have yet
to experience a place like Edgefield.

Yeah, but a rock garden, sir?

Do you honestly think we stand a chance
in hell of winning anything?

That all depends on your definition
of winning, doesn't it, Mr. Briggs?

About as subtle as a hammer, right?

The only thing missing
is a bloke with a pickaxe.

So, Colin...

what was it like
being with a woman again?

Well, it weren't that great
if he came back here, now was it?

Every day, I miss her.

Primrose was the greatest thing
to ever happen to me.

Now remember, these only need
one hour a day under these lamps, okay?

- You got it?
- Yeah, I got it.

- Hey, we need every last one.
- All right.

This archway's gotta be bursting
with strawberries.

Where do you think
they'll bury me, Colin?

Well, Westminster Abbey's
out of the question, I'm afraid.

I've been thinking...

that being cremated is the way to go.

''Dust thou art,
and unto dust shalt thou return.''

Yeah, all right, old man.

Any female visitors lately?

No, I haven't.

The way you left things,
I'm not surprised.

Fergus...

do you think I'll ever be capable
of loving someone?

Oh, yes.

I've spent my life in prison.

That's how it went.

But you're different.

You've got things to do.

So, the next time they let you out...

don't go fucking it up.

- Raw.
- Bloody hell!

We've got two weeks left.
We'll never be able to replace them.

I did exactly what you told me.
The timer must be broken.

- Bloody mice.
- I don't believe this.

I've got a lovely bunch of red peppers.

- We can fill up the trellis with them.
- Red peppers?

Come on, Colin.
Don't lose the faith.

- We still got the cactus. Look.
- Oh, what now?

From the looks of it, it appears...

that H.M.P. Edgefield and flower shows
just aren't meant to be.

From the looks of it,
we're all just a bunch of deadbeats.

No, loafers,
dregs of society, right?

Wrong.

I know different.

If Fergus Wilks were alive today...

he'd tell me not to give up
without a fight.

''Adversity is your ally, lad.''

Well, I've had my absolute fill
of adversity...

and now I'm looking for some allies.

Anyone here who wants to come with me
and make history...

at Hampton Court Palace...

step forward!

I believe I have the last word
on the subject, Mr. Briggs.

Good luck.

Savor the perfume and the pleasure
filling the air...

at the gardening year's
most anticipated event--

the Royal Horticultural Show's
Summer Extravaganza...

at Hampton Court Palace.

Henry VIII's glorious palace
by the River Thames...

has seen nearly 500 years
of spectacle and pageantry...

but I think even Henry
couldn't fail to be impressed...

by this feast of flowers.

Hello. I'm Georgina Woodhouse...

and I so remember
my first flower show victory.

I'd just given birth
to my daughter Primrose...

and I was desperate
to get back to gardening.

Every year,
Hampton Court Palace has a habit...

of showcasing something
quite new and unique.

And this year we have found an entry...

that must be one of the most unusual
in the history of the show.

It was made without sponsorship
on a tiny budget...

and from the confines of a prison.

I am here with the men
from Her Majesty's Prison Edgefield.

Tell me, how does it feel
to be exhibiting at Hampton Court?

- It's terribly exciting.
- I want to thank all my mates...

back at Edgefield who lent a hand.

Tell me about your design
for the show.

Well, it's a wildflower garden.

And it's all about finding beauty
in the most unlikely of places.

And it's dedicated to our friend
Fergus Wilks.

Wouldn't be the same
without you, Fergus.

Hurry up! The judges are here.

- They hate it.
- They don't get it.

They look more like
rock garden types to me.

Trying to read those judges
is like trying to unravel...

the mystery of the Mona Lisa's smile.

See you at the gala.

- What gala's that, then?
- Sorry, men.

It's for VI Ps
and non-prisoner competitors only.

Fine by me.
I had nothing to wear anyway.

Oh, look.
It's the boys over there.

I've got a confession to make.

I left those heat lamps on too long
on purpose.

I've got a confession too. I let them
mice eat all them strawberries.

Well, thanks for owning up, guys.

Just leaves one question,
doesn't it?

Who torched that bloody awful
rock garden?

This was a mistake, Mother.
I'm really not up to it.

How are you ever going to meet anyone
if you never leave the house?

Look who's there. Colin!

This is all about spite,
and now that you have my blessing...

you're deliberately trying to defy me.

I know I've not been an ideal mother...

but I do love you, Primrose.

And so does Colin.

He's just had a little bit
of garden fever. That's all.

I so want you to be happy.

I really do.

Hello.

You look stunning.

Thank you.

So...

this is who you left me for.

I hate to admit it,
but she's fantastic.

You planted primroses.

You were a total shit
to leave me the way you did.

Second biggest mistake I ever made.

There's more to life
than gardening, you know.

I know.

Are you seeing anyone?

Neither am I.

I keep hoping that...

when I get out next spring...

that you might be there
waiting for me.

''Marigolds for the Millennium'' has just
walked away with the silver gilt!

So exciting!

And to Fontley's Nurseries
in Hampshire...

a gold for ''Fuchsias and Delphiniums.''

Congratulations.

And this concludes
the medal winners...

in all the major categories.

Now, it is not every year...

that we bestow the Tudor Rose Award.

But, by unanimous ratification...

of the Royal Horticultural Society's
judging committee...

we have singled out a garden...

for that most coveted of awards.

And this year...

it goes to...

the ''Feng Shui Garden of Harmony''!

We salute all the gardeners...

who grew for gold and got it...

as well as those who didn't.

So, until next year,
thank you for watching...

and happy gardening.

So unfair.

Men.

Excuse me.

I got into the prison service
some 30 years ago...

because I envisaged doing something
positive with men like you--

to force you to go to your core--

rebuild your integrity.

I lay far greater score
in that victory...

than in any medal
they had to offer today.

You're holding up rather well.

I have a lot to be happy about.

It's the best carrot
I've ever tasted.

Thank you, son.

You think we made a mistake not going
with a more typically English garden?

You know, no graffiti,
no crashed cars, no concrete.

Oh, I like a bit of rough, Raw.

Excuse me.

Her Majesty requests the presence
of the gardeners of Edgefield...

in the Royal Palace.

Her Majes-- The queen?

H.R.H. Herself. She was quite impressed
with your garden.

Holy shit.

Unofficially,
she thought you were robbed.

Come on, John.

Come along then, gentlemen.
Let's not keep Her Majesty waiting.

I'm sorry, sir. Gardeners only.

Excuse us, would you?

Bit of advice, lads.

Don't forget to curtsy.