Lady Chatterley's Lover (2022) - full transcript

I, Constance Reid,
take you, Clifford Chatterley,

to be my lawfully wedded husband,

to have and to hold from this day forward,

for better and for worse,

for richer and for poorer,

in sickness and in health.

How does it feel?

I don't know. Ask me tomorrow.

- You need to eat something.
- I need to get out of this dress.

Ooh.

Mmm.



How do I look?

Well, I doubt Clifford
will want to stay long at the reception.

You don't think
his mother would've approved?

Well, I'm not entirely sure I do.

Are we talking about the dress now, Hilda,

or the wedding?

He goes back to the front in the morning.
Imagine if we'd left it,

and then something terrible happened.

- Couldn't you have just had sex with him?
- Hilda! Be serious.

I am. It's much less commitment,
and it's all Clifford will want anyway.

Clifford's not like that.

You know him. He's kind and thoughtful.

He makes me feel safe.

His family's more traditional than ours,
I suppose,



but I think his own views
are actually quite progressive.

- Really?
- Yes.

Hmm...

- Does he know about that German boy?
- Yes. And he says it doesn't matter.

It was before the war,
so it doesn't count.

You don't need to convince me.
I had my own German boy, remember?

Well, mine's dead.

You see, that's just it.

What?

I don't want to see you get hurt again.

You, uh... You open your

heart so easily.

Oh, Hilda!

- Clifford!
- Hmm, reinforcements have arrived.

You read my mind.

I nearly drank yours
on the way up.

- Cheers.
- Cheers.

Well, what now?

Our fathers
are preparing their toasts.

Can we face them together?

Of course.

You look stunning, Con.

Thanks.

- I can hear them.
- Yeah.

Oh...

Are you ready?

So, here's to Clifford and Connie...

...our new hope for an heir to Wragby.

To Clifford and Connie.

Father, that's not just why we married.

No, why else would a baronet get married?

Shh.

- I married because I found Connie.
- And I you.

We would like to thank those
who donated their butter and sugar rations

to help us celebrate.

To the next heir of Chatterley.

To the Chatterleys!

We'll just watch and wait.

Oh yeah.

Oh God.

"Why else is a baronet ever married?"

Unbelievable.

Do you want children, Clifford?

Uh, yeah. Yeah, someday.

- For our sake, not for my father's.
- Hmm.

Assuming you would.

I think so, yes.

What? You all right?

Yes, um, of course. Sorry. Uh...

It's just, um...

I can't stop thinking
about going back to the front.

- I... I know I'll be all right.
- You will be.

- We don't have to do anything.
- No, no, I... I want to.

Sure you don't want me
to come to the station?

Thanks.

Let's not make a ceremony of it, shall we?

I love you, Con.

Bye.

I look forward to your letters.

I'll write to you every day.

Dearest Hilda,
I knew the war would change us all,

but I just wasn't sure how much.

It feels as though
it ended half a lifetime ago,

not just half a year.

We've already moved away from London.

We've just arrived at Wragby,

Clifford's family estate.

Once we're settled in,
I expect to write to you often.

Your loving sister, Connie.

Thank you.

Welcome home, Sir Clifford.
We've been praying for you.

Thank you, Mr. Warren.

There's the one

All right.

Thank you. I can, uh... I can manage.

Mr. and Mrs. Warren, this is my wife,

the new Lady Chatterley.

It's so nice to meet you, milady.

There's plenty of work to be done.

Hire back all the workers
we can, Mrs. Warren.

Old girl's seen better days.

We'll bring her back to life.

We thought you might like to use
your father's study as the master bedroom,

so you don't have to bother
with the stairs.

Thank you, Mrs. Warren.

No.

No, let's put the luggage in here.

We'll use the library as a master.

Wow.

What is more inspiring
for a writer than to sleep among books?

This is where they found Father.
They say his heart gave out.

I think he died of chagrin.

Clifford... it's all done now.

Life is what we make of it.

- Mrs. Warren.
- Yes.

Let's open the curtains,
let some light in.

Of course, milady.

- We should have a look around.
- I will.

You're welcome to use
the private room above the library

with the family portraits.

You can have
the whole of the second floor.

Welcome home, Clifford.

You all right? I've got you.
Lean on me, put your weight on me.

- Ready?
- Mm-hmm. Yes.

I'm getting the hang of it.

- Love it.
- Mmm.

You know, um...

I'm thinking of expanding
the short story I wrote in Cambridge.

- Hmm?
- Turning it into a novel.

- It's a wonderful idea.
- You think?

Mm-hmm.

- You'll be my editor?
- Of course.

Proofreader, typist.
I'll submit my application.

I'll get you to the top of the pile.

- All right?
- Yes.

Ooh, this bed is softer than I thought.

- First night at Wragby. Hmm.
- Welcome.

- Oh, sorry.
- Oh, you're fine. Really.

What?

I'm sorry, Con.

I just can't anymore, you know?

I'm so sorry.

It's all right. Don't worry.

You'll be fine?

Yes.

I love you, Con.

This is misfortune, but you'll see.

We... We'll be happy here

at Wragby.

Hello, sir.

I'm a strong, hardworking man,
and I will not let you down.

Lily Wheedon.
My mum worked for Sir Geoffrey.

Really?

Oliver Mellors?

You, uh, worked for my father
before the war.

Aye, sir.

- And you were an army lieutenant.
- I was, sir.

Do you honestly believe
that a return to gamekeeping

will be satisfying
after your time as an officer?

Bit of quiet'd do me good.

- I've seen enough of what war does to men.
- Hmm.

As have I.

You must know your way
around the estate better than I do.

Oh, no, milady.
I couldn't visit while she was working.

Very well then. Welcome back, Mr. Mellors.

Sir.

In that case, we'll have to
learn our way around together. Won't we?

- Hmm.
- Thank you, Lily.

My name is Kelly Martin, milady.

- Thank you.
- I've been a maid for five years.

Dear Hilda,

I'm a thoughtless lout
for not writing sooner.

In my defense, Wragby needed
an enormous amount of tending to.

But we finally have a full staff

who've done wonders
in restoring the place.

Clifford's strength has returned.

I'm still the only one
he's willing to let help him,

but every day,
he can do more and more on his own.

He's writing, all the time,

which keeps his spirits up,
and he's nearly finished his first novel.

"I first met Mrs. Gertrude
at a dinner, comma,

thrown by Lord Witherby."

Witherby, W-I-T-H-E-R-B-Y.

"With the sort of fellow, whom..."
I'm quite pleased with this...

- "The sort of fellow..."
- It is quiet here in the country.

I miss the life we had in London,

and, of course, I miss you.

But we have to live, I suppose,

no matter how many skies have fallen.

We have had some guests.

Mostly Clifford's old bachelor friends.

It's hardly surprising that most of them
haven't found women, believe me.

Now and again,
we also get visits from writers

whose advice Clifford has sought out.

Apparently, my old friends

all seem to think
misfortune is contagious.

I know you and Owen

have been traveling everywhere
since the war ended,

but once you've settled back home,
I would so love to see you.

- Am I interrupting?
- No, not at all.

I was thinking
about going to London for a few days

to visit Hilda.

Leaving me to fend for myself?

We do have
a house full of servants.

I don't need servants. I need you.

Why don't you invite Hilda?
She'd be more than welcome.

I have. She can't get away
from London for a few weeks.

Hmm. I'm glad at least she can come.

I'm going to go for a walk.

Why? We can send Mrs. Warren
out for anything you might need.

I don't need anything, Clifford.
I just want to go for a walk.

Very well, dear.

- As you like.
- Jesus.

Hello.

Flossie! Come here, lass.

Come on.

Good girl. Good girl.

I wandered further down and I found this
stream running right through the woods.

I, uh, think I know the place.
Doubt I'd be able to get there anymore.

I'm sure we can find a way
if you wanted to go.

- Right.
- Perhaps.

Here we are.

- Ready?
- Yes.

All right.

It's fine.

- It's all right?
- Yes.

Uh, I don't want you to drop me.

I'm not going to drop you.

Look, just, um...

There we go.

There we are. That's fine.
Just let me go there.

Thank you. Thank you.

Ah. There.

See, you didn't need my help at all.

- There must be times you hate me for this.
- No.

I wouldn't blame you.

There are days
I wish I hadn't made it back.

Clifford.

Don't talk like that.

I'd be lost without you, Con.
You know that.

Let's open some windows,
get some fresh air in here.

I've never seen the sky so clear.

Yes, well, there's no smoke in the air.
Mines are closed for May Day.

You should go down to Tevershall.

See the fair. You can, you know?

Just be back in time for tea.

- Yes, I might.
- Hmm.

- Nice to see you, Lady Chatterley.
- Milady.

It's nice to meet you, Lady Chatterley.

Oh, that's so kind.

Thank you.

Happy May Day to you, milady.

Happy May Day.

Who's this? She's precious.

- This is my Josephine.
- Hi, Josephine.

Say hello to Lady Chatterley.

I seem to be having
that effect on people today.

I'm Mrs. Flint.
I'm a schoolteacher here in the village.

I'm Connie. Lovely to meet you.

My, uh... My husband
leases Marehay Farm from your estate.

- Marehay Farm?
- It's not far from where you are.

Side by side we fight forever.

More in numbers makes them stop.

Just as long as we stand together.

What was that?

The miners.
They're out protesting again.

- Again?
- Leave him!

Um, that, um... That happens a lot?

They must've been
from one of the other mines.

They'd lose their jobs if they marched
like that through their own village.

Does it mean our miners from Tevershall
protest in other villages?

I wouldn't know.

I may teach their children,

but I'm an outsider
when it comes to the miners' wives.

That makes two of us.

- Well, hello, Lady Chatterley.
- Hello.

You should come
to Marehay one day.

- We'd love to have you.
- I'd love that.

Thank you.

Where are we going?

You've always wanted me
to join you on one of your walks.

I thought of somewhere
I'd like to show you.

Don't think your chair was made for this.

Ah, Mellors. Give us a hand
trying to get this chair started again.

Yes, sir.

Uh, Connie, have you met Mellors,
our new gamekeeper?

Get down, you, Floss.

She's just being friendly.

Now, then.

You've been at Wragby
sometime, Mr. Mellors?

I was raised here, Your Ladyship.

Whoa.

Need some help?

Mellors is quite capable
of pushing on his own. There we are.

Now... Now, now.

Ooh. Ah.

Nothing else, sir?

Nothing else. Good day.

That was kind of you.
Hope it wasn't too heavy.

No, not heavy.

Good day to you, Your Ladyship.

I used to come here as a lad,
sit for hours.

One of the finest views
in all the Midlands.

I want to restore these woods.

If these places aren't preserved,
there'll be no England left.

Our way of life will end,
never mind what we gave up to defend it.

I mind not being able to have a son here
more than any other place.

I'm sorry we can't have one.

Almost be a good thing
if you had a son by another man.

You're not serious?

- Why not?
- Why not? Because...

Because we're married.

I married you, Clifford.

Why would you even suggest such a thing?

You've told me
how much you'd love a child.

This way, you could have one
to dote on, to fill your days.

As far as anyone else knows, I might
still be capable of fathering a child.

If we raised him here at Wragby,
he'd be ours.

Do you really mean this?

Well, of course, I wouldn't want you
to yield yourself completely to him,

but the mechanical act of sex is nothing
when compared to a life lived together.

If you govern your emotions accordingly,

we could arrange this
like a trip to the dentist.

A trip to the...

And you wouldn't mind
what man's child I had?

I trust your judgment. You wouldn't let
the wrong sort of fellow touch you.

Someone of the utmost discretion.
The Chatterley name depends on it.

Would you expect me
to tell you who this man was?

Best I don't know.

An heir really means this much to you?

It means a lot to the people here.

I know you can do it for them
and for the Chatterleys.

You do agree with me, don't you?

I'm going ahead.

Okay.

They're all talking about your book
in London. It's good work.

You really think so?

I wanted to write something special.

Not just popular,
but something really first class.

The entire pals collective
across the entire northeast,

keeping them together,
making sure they've got all of...

So sorry. Will you excuse me?
Just for a second?

Uh, yes. Um...

Thank you. Thank you, sir.

You imagine they've solved
the world's problems yet?

I'm sure they think they have.

Shame they've forgotten
their solutions by daybreak.

You're a writer.
Maybe you should take notes.

I doubt I'd be welcome
in that drinking circle.

Don't worry. I'm not really
a part of this world, either.

- Oh, but you grew up in it, didn't you?
- Hardly. My father's an artist.

So I grew up between rented villas

and woke up each morning
to the smell of turpentine.

Sounds like quite the Bohemian lifestyle.

There must be days
when you don't feel like a lady at all.

I head back home in the morning.
With luck, he'd invite me to visit again.

That's the last time
we'll invite the Irish playwright.

- Michaelis?
- Hmm.

He writes well, he knows how to dress,

but he's got the manners
of a Dublin street rat.

Maybe because he knows he's only around
as long as people deem him useful.

We all know where we stand.

You ought to eat something.
You're wasting away.

- I'm not feeling well.
- Hmm? Mmm.

I haven't been feeling well
since our conversation.

Clifford.

Here we are, look!

I got my picture in the paper.

Hmm. Chatterley's novella
has garnered attention

for its humorous analysis
of people and their motives,

though his views on modern society
are not young and playful,

but curiously old
and obscenely conceited."

- Clifford, stop reading.
- "A wonderful display of nothingness."

It's just one review.

But they're right.

They... they've seen right through me.

It's all nothing.

A home, love,
sex, marriage, friendship, all of it.

You don't mean that.

I think I do.

I do. The whole point of living

is learning to accept
the great nothingness of life.

I'm going to get dressed.

Connie. Connie, it's me.

Oh my God, you came.

- What's wrong?
- I...

What's wrong?

Tell me what's wrong.

What on earth are you doing?

What's this?

I just... I wanted a change and...

You're ill.

- No, I'm fine.
- Has no one been looking after you?

Um, they have.

I'm so tired of them watching me, Hilda.

It's inescapable. It's...

I'm so tired.

It's okay.

Thank you.

Connie's not well, Clifford.

You think?

She's exhausted.
Look how thin she's gotten.

I'm afraid
it doesn't suit her to be a half-virgin.

This chair
doesn't very much suit me either, Hilda.

What do you propose?
Find her another of your German soldiers?

She needs to see a doctor.
Do you have one you, uh, use around here?

I'll look into it.

No. I'll take her to a doctor we trust.

In the meantime,

you must hire someone
to take care of you personally.

- I'm doing perfectly well, thank you.
- I'm not worried about you, Clifford.

Who's taking care of her
while she's taking care of you?

- Connie and I will discuss it.
- Connie and I already have.

I believe you know this woman.

Mrs. Bolton.
She cared for you when you were young.

Connie won't be your caregiver any longer.

We're so grateful
that you could come. Really.

It must be hard for Sir Clifford,

all he's suffered,
and hard on you as well.

You think your know how life will be,
and suddenly it's gone.

I only had my Ted for three years
before he was killed in mines.

I didn't know. I'm sorry.

Never you mind.

Now, you just follow doctor's orders
and leave the care of Sir Clifford to me.

Ah, Clifford. This is Mrs. Bolton.

I remember Mrs. Bolton.

- Are we all satisfied?
- For the time being.

I'm headed back to London,
and Connie's going for a nice long walk.

Good. Safe travels.

Connie, would you stop in
at the gamekeeper?

Ask if the new pheasants
have begun laying?

Of course.

Lady Chatterley.

- Does Sir Clifford need help?
- No. He sent me.

- Sorry, I don't mean to intrude.
- No.

Do you want to come in?

- Sorry. I'm not dressed for company.
- No. Not to worry.

I just wanted, um...

Sir Clifford wanted to know
if the new pheasants had begun laying.

Oh, aye. Yes, milady. Yeah.

There'll be plenty of young chicks
in a matter of weeks.

This is a lovely little cottage.
You live alone here?

Quite alone, milady.

You read James Joyce?

That one was hard to find.

Do you read much?

Well, it suits my solitary nature.

Still.

Must be awfully quiet around here.

No, I've got Flossie for company.

Mm-hmm.

Um...

Well, um, I'll let Clifford know

about the pheasants.

Um, thank you.

- I'll see you out then.
- All right.

Apologies.

Lovely flowers.

Take some back with you.

- No, I couldn't.
- Why not?

They're yours.

- You sure?
- Yeah, help yoursen.

Good day, then.

Mrs. Flint. I brought you some flowers.

They're beautiful!
Aren't you thoughtful!

- It's quite all right.
- Let's get you a vase. Sit down.

They're all growing in the fields
by the keeper's cottage. Everywhere.

Here, have these.

Ah. Oh.

Interesting fellow, isn't he, the keeper?

He seems gruff at first, but then...

The older teachers still talk about
how clever Oliver Mellors was as a lad.

It's no wonder
he came back home a full lieutenant.

But now he lives down there? Alone?

He was married. Um...

But, uh, his wife, Bertha,

the whole time he was gone,
she carried on with other men.

It was awful. Everyone knew.

So, they're divorced now?

Oh, not properly, I don't think.

Uh, but there never was
much proper about Bertha Coutts.

She's off living
with another man at Stacks Gate.

Ned, I think his name is.

I imagine Mr. Mellors would be happier
never hearing from either again.

This is Wendy.

Hello, Wendy.

She's beautiful.

There was
an explosion in the mines,

and Ted was only 28.

The company
said it was his own fault somehow.

He was running away
when he should have laid down.

Though the compensation was only £300.

I'll never forgive them for that.

Them branding Ted a coward.

He wasn't a coward, though, Mrs. Bolton.

He was only trying to survive.

You really should let Lily do that.

You're his nurse, not his servant.

No, I don't mind. Busy hands, quiet mind.

Oh, there's the bell. I have to go.

I wondered what the hammering was.

I'm prepping the coops
for the new chicks.

Oh.

Is there a chair in this hut?

Come on in.

Thank you.

I'll light you a fire, milady.

- Oh. No, don't bother.
- No, I insist.

Warm yourself up a little bit.

- All right?
- Thank you.

I never knew this hut was here before.

Not many do.

It's why I like it.

Do you keep it locked
when you're not around?

Sometimes, milady.

Can I have a key?

You want a key?

Hmm.

I think I'd like to sit here sometimes.

I don't know if there is another key.

Well, I'll see to it myself, then.

Quite the walk you had.

Sorry. Am I late?

Could have asked Mrs. Bolton to make tea.

I don't quite see her
presiding at the tea table.

Hmm. I don't remember
anything about tea in our wedding vows.

Do you know if there's a second key
to the hut where the pheasants are reared?

Uh, yes. There may be one
in the study. Why?

I thought it was quite lovely.
Might read my book there.

Books by that degenerate Irishman?

What? James Joyce?

I heard his next
is to be banned for obscenity.

Hmm, such a shame.
I was looking forward to reading it.

- Was Mellors at the hut?
- Mm-hmm.

- He didn't appreciate the intrusion.
- What did he say?

Nothing. It was just his manner.

Don't think he liked me
having freedom of the castle.

Comes with a lieutenant
going back to being gamekeeper.

What do you expect, giving a fellow
like that rank and a sense of importance

then taking it all away?

Dear Hilda,

I hope it hasn't been raining
all week in London.

It has here.

Until now, I've been able to go out
and explore the grounds all I liked.

But I've spent
most of this last week cooped up,

aching to get back outside.

I'm writing now from a little hut I found.

A secret place
where I can hide away from the world.

Only one other person comes here.

Don't worry. I was just going.
Only came to get out the rain.

Here.

I shall leave this here
until I get another one.

Look at you.
You must be lord of the manor.

So, it's a simple enough game.

It begins with a 32-card deck
running seven through ace...

...he died last year from a fall.

Eighty-three he was.

- The chicks have started hatching.
- Oh, good.

I got Madrid. Listen to this.

...of evidence of young feds.

What are they saying?

Damn!

- I've lost the signal.
- Oh.

Damn!

Well, the young have...

Most have left Tevershall, they say,
now the coal's running thin.

It won't be long
before the town's finished.

- Finished? Are they really saying that?
- Hmm.

Mrs. Bolton,
will you call down to the mines?

- See that Mr. Linley joins us for dinner.
- Will do, sir. Absolutely.

I wish I could
be with you in Venice,

but Clifford says
he can't manage here without me.

Not yet at least.

But I'll come
on the next holiday, I promise.

With love, your sister Connie.

Well, if it starts
to increase profits.

That should keep them in business
for the foreseeable future.

- We can modernize as well. Why not?
- Clifford, what about your writing?

The literary world doesn't need me.

But the mine's a sinking ship.
It needs a proper captain to save her.

Don't you think the miners
have led grim enough lives?

I mean, couldn't you just
help them move on?

To what? Begging?

"Help them move on."
You talk like a woman.

Spoken like a man.

Mr. Linley,
how much might it cost us,

a ballpark, to build a chemical work?

Initially,
I'd say around £500 to £700.

Obviously, within that,
there is contingency...

Came to see the chicks.

How many do we have now?

- Eighteen.
- Eighteen.

Can I touch one?

Yeah, go on.

What if it pecks at me?

Just peck it back.

Ooh.

You just...

- Ah... Oh...
- Uh...

That's it. Gently.

- He's trembling.
- You're trembling more than he is.

That's the way.

Milady?

Here...

Shall we get you
sat down in there a minute?

- I'm so sorry.
- It's all right.

Sorry.

So that's how it's been, eh?

Dinna cry.

Let's get you by the fire.

- I want more firewood.
- Okay.

Please don't go.

I'll walk you back.

You all right, milady?

Mm-hmm.

You?

Mm-hmm.

I should probably go on alone.

Goodbye then.

Goodbye, milady.

There you are, milady.
I thought you'd gone lost.

No, I'm absolutely fine.

Why did you lock the door?
I only went to see the new chicks.

Sorry.

Is Clifford upset?
I didn't say goodbye to the guests.

Oh, he hasn't said anything.
He's still in with Mr. Linley.

Oh, so he didn't notice I was gone?

Oh, Milady, you know Sir Clifford.

Night.

No, no, of course, it's uh...
It's very similar...

- Good night, Con.
- Good night.

I've been waiting for you.

Don't you think folks will become
suspicious if you keep coming here?

Imagine how lowered you'd feel,
you with your husband's gamekeeper.

You afraid?

I bloody well am.

I bloody well am, yeah.

Not of what people think of me, milady.

But if you were to ever feel sorry
for what we've been...

We have to be quick.

This.

I can't stay long.

Someone will notice.

Look at me.

Huh?

I need to go.

Do we still feel like strangers to you?

Pardon me?

Do we still feel like strangers?

Not like strangers I've ever known.

Come to the cottage tomorrow.

If I can.

Good night.

Good night, then, Your Ladyship.

- Oliver.
- Yes?

If we can
produce that fuel here, then it'll...

Connie?

- Connie... Are you all right?
- Hmm.

- Not feeling unwell again?
- No, not at all. Sorry. You were saying.

I know the mine
seems to be all I speak of these days.

But Tevershall belongs to me.

One day it will belong to an heir.

And the mine needs our help.

We must modernize.

You and me.

My dear sister...

I've thought a lot about
what you said at the wedding.

That I open my heart too easily.

That may have been true before the war,

but I don't think it is any longer.

Lately, I've felt my heart
opening up again.

Despite all warnings.

- And I can assure you...
- Connie.

- ...nothing about it has been easy.
- Look at me.

Look at me.

Look at me.

Lady Chatterley.

- Your book!
- Oh, it's all right. Thank you.

♪ This is the way the farmer rides ♪

Joggety, joggety, jog.

Joggety, joggety, jog.

- She's perfect.
- Don't let her fool you.

That one's given us
a lot of sleepless nights.

Bet it's all worth it.

Well, we're very happy
to have you, aren't we, Josephine?

Aren't we?

Clifford and I talked
about having a child one day.

Have you?

Hmm. I mean, just because
he's lost the use of his legs,

doesn't mean we can't have children.

That's wonderful, isn't it?

Josephine would love a new playmate.

Would you?

And being a mother,
I recommend it by all means.

I lied to you.

She's perfect.

- What's the gamekeeper doing here?
- He comes each day for fresh milk.

- Good day to you, Mr. Mellors.
- Mrs. Flint.

Lady Chatterley.

- Would you, uh, keep an eye on her?
- Of course.

Josephine, hello.

All right, tinker. What you got?

Said you'd come to the cottage.

I said I'd try.

Will you come later?

What's this?

What's this, then?

- Here you are.
- Ta. Thank you.

- I should go.
- Oh, all right.

Lovely to see you, Josephine.

- Shall I walk you home?
- No. No, not necessary.

Um... Lovely to see you, Mrs. Flint.

- Do come again.
- I will.

Thanks again. Take care. Take care.

Say bye. Say bye.

Bye.

Ayup!

Giving me the slip like?

What do you mean?

Pardon?

What do you mean?

Well, you didn't come to the cottage.

And the way
you pulled back from me just then.

Mrs. Flint could have seen. Are you mad?

Come to the cottage, then.

No.

By the time we get there,
it'll be too late.

Come through here.

Come on.

What? Here?

Aye, milady.

Right here.

- Don't call me that.
- You don't want to be a lady?

Not with you.

You would want coarser treatment with me?

Mm-hmm.

Take this off.

Undo my trousers.

Yeah.

- Lie down.
- Hmm?

Lie down.

No.

No, don't turn away. Look at me.

I want you to fuck me.

You want me to fuck you?

Yes.

Yes. Yes.

Yes. That's it.

That's it, Connie.

Hmm.

We both came off together that time.

- It's good when that happens.
- Hmm.

Some people live their whole lives
and never know that feeling.

- Really?
- Mm-hmm.

Is that the... All right, yeah. Fuck knows.

Fuck.

You're gonna have to help me, Connie.
Here you are.

You know what you have?

Tenderness.

I... I didn't say you were gentle.

I've had enough of gentlemen.

- They're a different breed.
- How do you mean?

Dead.

Dead.

You've got to...
cut them parts of you that feel off,

if you're gonna send men into mines or...

factories or...

into battle.

Either that
or you live with what you've done.

You're not like any man
I've... ever met before.

You're not like any other woman.

How?

You are beautiful.

You know, I don't think I... realized
how lonely I've been until now.

Thank you.

You better go.

Ten of spades.
Well, I have got you there with the king.

- I, Connie...
- I, Oliver...

- ...take you, Oliver...
- ...take you, Connie...

- ...in strength...
- ...and in freedom...

...and in ecstasy.

How deep is it?

Please.

- "Why do I like you?"
- Mm-hmm.

"Fruit is black."

Hmm.

Oh, Your Ladyship,
I'm sorry to disturb you.

- I saw the light and...
- It's all right, honestly.

Sit.
Be happy to have some company.

Really.

Why are you up so late?

Uh, Sir Clifford,
he's not been sleeping.

I can't help looking in on him.

- Hmm.
- It was the same with me husband.

If he so much as got a cold,
I'd be up all night worrying over him.

Ted.

You must miss him.

Oh, it's been 25 years,

but do you know, still sometimes in bed,

I'll wake up, and I think,
"He's not in bed with me."

Oh, it's just the touch of him.

Aye.

It's amazing, isn't it?

How someone can get so into your blood.

Oh, it is.

It can make you bitter.

If it hadn't been for that pit,
Ted'd still be here.

He hated it down there.

He hated it, but what could he do?
He was trapped.

I suppose we all are in different ways.

You never wanted to remarry?

Oh, Lord.

Ted was the only one?

He was.

But you and your man,
you know, you grow together.

Who else is there in life?

Children, of course, but... Oh.

- I'm sorry, that was thoughtless of me.
- No.

Don't worry. It's fine.

Um...

More than fine, actually.

There still might
be some hope in that regard.

- For you and Sir Clifford?
- Hmm.

Doctor says his recovery is remarkable.

So who knows?

I might have a child yet.

Well, I hope and pray that you do.

Can I get you a blanket?

No, I'm fine, thank you.

Sleep well. Save some secrets
for our next conversation.

Good night.

Come on now, you lass.

I think we're best off outside.

Come on.

There, there.

Has Her Ladyship not risen yet?

- She got up before I did.
- Hmm.

She's already had her breakfast, then.

Yes. She's out on one of her walks.

I was up early myself.

There were a lot of people out this morn.

- The gamekeeper, he was...
- Could you get me some fresh cream?

- Yes, sir.
- Thank you.

Since Sir Clifford took over,

they've been working
the poor miners to the bone.

I thought the machines
were supposed to make the work easier.

It's a way to make
more money with fewer workers.

Don't he have
enough money already?

Oh, bet his lady
needs her baubles and silk

so she can
lord her station over the rest of us.

No, she's not like that.

She treats folks who work with her

with the same respect
she'd treat a lord or lady.

My Lily says the same about her.

Well, she deserves better then.

Such a hard lot that's fallen to her.

Oh! As it happens, uh, Sir Clifford
may not be quite as done in as we thought.

Oh, his legs won't work again,
but, you know, rest might.

Her Ladyship has even suggested
there might be a child one day soon.

What?

No!

- That's amazing.
- You ever heard of such a thing?

How long
should these things last?

If we keep them
in good repair, for generations.

Speaking of which, sir,
if you don't mind my asking,

is there any truth to the rumor

that we may
still have hope of an heir at Wragby?

Are there rumors?

Yes.

Everyone's been asking me
what I know about it.

I am happy to set the record straight
if the rumor's unfounded.

Indeed.

Well...

there may yet be hope.

Hello, Con.

I've just had

the most interesting meeting
with Mr. Linley.

Hmm?

Have you heard the rumor

that you are to supply Wragby
with an heir?

No.

Is it a joke?

I'd hoped it might be a prophecy.

I received a letter from Father.

He's been invited to Venice
for July and August

and has asked me and Hilda
to come with him.

July and August?

I wouldn't need to go for that long.

Three weeks
should be more than enough time

for what we discussed.

Have plans already been set in motion?

Not just yet.

If I were absolutely certain
you'd want to come back to me?

Of course I would.

I don't want to know his name.

No one can.

Well, in that case, I think
it ought to be all right, don't you?

Mm-hmm.

You know how much
you mean to me, don't you?

And you to me.

I have to go away for a while.

- Where?
- Venice.

With Sir Clifford?

- For how long?
- Just a couple of months.

But no, not with Clifford.

He doesn't like to travel how he is.

Aye.

The poor devil.

- You won't forget about me.
- Forget?

- Mm-hmm.
- You know nobody forgets.

It's not a question of memory.

Look, um...

I told Clifford I might have a child.

You did?

I... I think I'm already... expecting.

Oliver?

What did he say?

Um...

He said he'd be glad

as long as the child seemed to be his.

So where does Sir Clifford suppose
that this child is coming from?

- I said I might have an affair in Venice.
- You might. So that's why you're going.

Not to have the affair.
Just the appearance of one.

So that's why you wanted me then.

To get a child.

Of course not, Oliver.

I never planned on you.
I never planned on any of this, really.

What was the plan then, Connie?

What was the plan, really?

- What was the plan?
- I...

- I don't know.
- You don't know?

Well, then, I am damned if I do.

Fucking hell.

Well, it's as Your Ladyship likes.

If you get a child,
Sir Clifford's welcome to it.

I shan't have lost anything.

On the contrary,
I've had a nice experience.

- Don't talk like that.
- If you've made use of me,

it's not the first time
I've been made use of, is it?

I don't suppose
it's ever been as pleasant as this time.

Of course, one can't feel
tremendously dignified about it.

I didn't make use of you... Oliver.

As Your Ladyship pleases.

You forgot your book.

Or have you made use of that as well?

With the new generators,
we'll be able to reduce the workforce.

- Striking will be impossible.
- What about the workers?

No man's forced to work for me.
I'm not forced to hire them.

- No wonder the men hate you.
- They don't hate me.

They depend on me.
They should be grateful.

They'd starve
without someone to tend them.

You talk about them
as if they're herd animals.

Not all of them.

An individual
may rise from the pack now and again.

Most of those men
have been ruled since time began.

And you can rule them?

Yes, because I've been brought up
and trained to do so.

That's my role in society,
as it's their place to serve.

So there is no shared humanity between us?

We all need to eat and breathe,
but beyond that, no.

Shall we go as far as the spring?

Good day to you, Mr. Mellors!

Ayuh.

Wait, Clifford. I'll push.

What's the use of the thing
if she needs to be pushed?

- You're making it worse!
- Be quiet a moment, will you?

Damn thing!

Wait, stop!

Mellors.

- Yes, Sir Clifford?
- Know anything about blasted motors?

- I'm afraid not. Has she gone wrong?
- Apparently!

Just have a look
and see that nothing's broken.

No.

Seems all right as far as I can see, sir.

Then stand back.

- Maybe if I give it a push.
- No. She'll do it herself.

Yeah?

You see? Good.

Are you pushing? I asked you not.

- It won't go if I don't.
- Give it a chance, man!

Clifford, watch your brake.

- Right. Fine.
- Clifford!

It's obvious
I'm at everybody's bloody mercy.

It would seem, Mr. Mellors,
that she would need to be pushed.

Do you mind?

- Not at all, sir.
- Hmm.

Right.

Hang on, hang on.

Two, three.

Bombs away.

There we are.

For God's sake, man,
what's the matter with you?

- Lungs are a bit knackered, sir.
- Little souvenir from the war.

What the hell are you doing?

- He needs my help, Clifford!
- God's sake.

You all right?

I suppose the other chair
will need a new set of wheels.

Who do you think you are?

I mean,
how can you treat someone like that?

Who? The gamekeeper?

He was injured in the war as well.

I mean, if he was in that chair,
what would you have done to him?

I find your comparison in very bad taste.

I find your lack of common sympathy
to be in the worst taste imaginable.

You and your ruling class.

I thought you were different,
but you're not.

You make people work
for £2 a week or starve.

It's not ruling, Clifford.

That's bullying.

Come on in, then.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry for hurting you.

I don't want you
for the sake of a child... Oliver.

I just want you.

All right?

All right.

But Clifford has to believe
that I tried to keep us together.

That this was his idea,

just all gone terribly wrong.

For him to give me a divorce,
for us to be together,

he needs to believe that.

I just want to be with you.

If that's what you want.

It's not about wanting, Connie.
You know what I want.

I've still got to get a divorce
from Bertha meself.

What happened with Bertha?

I went off to war,
she carried on with other men.

And now she refuses to divorce me.

- What about her other man?
- Ned?

- Mm-hmm.
- He's a big baby of a fella.

She bullies him.

They both drink, he gets sent around here
to harass me for me war pension.

Aye, let's dinna fight.

I'm sorry.

Why don't we just leave them all behind?

Go to Australia.

Go somewhere...

Anywhere.

- The three of us?
- Just our family.

No one would judge us.

Seems a wrong and bitter thing
to be bringing a child into this world.

- You don't mean that.
- I do.

- No.
- No, I mean this world here.

I'm pleased for us.

I'm pleased for you to be pleased.

But when I think about around here,
what man has done to man...

...what leaders of men
have done to their so-called fellow men.

Reduced them to less than humanness.

Half corpses
and they think about nowt but money.

Living to make money.

But not all of us
have the freedom to live life how we want.

Not all of us can do as we...

Connie.

What are you doing?

Whoo!

Whoo!

Come on!

Whoo!

Where is she? She's been gone for hours.

Well, I'm sure
it's just the rain that's keeping her.

She's... she's probably sheltering
in the hut.

- I'll send Warren and Betts to find her.
- No, don't you do that.

It'll only get people talking.

I'll slip over to the hut
and, uh, see if she's there.

- What? And leave me here alone?
- Oh, don't you worry.

We'll be back in no time.

- Ayup.
- Ayup.

- Ayup, me duck.
- Ayup, me duck.

I leave for Venice on Thursday.

I'll come by the cottage that night.

Milady?

Oh, milady, there you are.

Sir Clifford asked me to look for you.
He was worried something had happened.

No. No, I was sheltering
in the hut from the rain.

Mrs. Bolton.

Your Ladyship would be
quite all right from here.

Good evening to you.
Good evening to you, Your Ladyship.

I am not a child.
It's monstrous that I have to be followed.

My Ladyship, don't say that.

Sir Clifford was sure
you'd been struck by lightning.

It's not your fault.
It's foolish of Clifford to worry.

Well, let's go home now.

And I'll take care of the rest.

You don't need
to send the servants out after me.

God, where have you been?

You've been gone out hours,
and in a storm like this.

What have you been doing?

What if I choose not to tell you?
I went to the hut and lit a fire.

- Look at you. The state of your hair.
- I went out into the rain... naked.

Are you mad?

Suppose Mellors had seen you
while you were prancing with nothing on.

Yes... suppose he had.

You're right, Clifford.
I should really go and get cleaned up.

Connie!

My sister's here!

Hilda.

- It's so good to see you.
- It's been too long.

Good to see you.

You know I've met someone,
don't you?

I gathered from your letters, yes.

I tried to tell myself it was nothing.
I tried to stay away. I did.

But I can't.

He...

I really love him.

- Wow.
- And... I know.

And I said I would stay with him tonight.
I promised.

Are you going to tell me who he is?

Oliver Mellors.

He's our gamekeeper.

No, Hilda. He's lovely.

Honestly, he has
such an understanding and tenderness.

He's quite the exception, you'll see.

I long hoped you would find someone else.

- But one of Clifford's servants?
- I'm not giving him up!

Listen to you. It's you
and that German boy all over again.

- It's not, Hilda! It's nothing like that!
- Yes, it is!

Confusing sex with love,
and then thinking it can continue

just because it's what you want.

Please, come to Venice and take the time
to think through what you really want.

I know what I want!

- Really?
- Yes!

And I'm seeing him tonight
or I'm not going to Venice. I can't!

I really thought that you,
of all people, would understand!

Goodbye.

- Bye.
- I look forward to your letters.

You have a good time,
and then come back and cheer us up.

I will. Take care.

Oliver.

This is my sister, Hilda.

- Hello.
- Hilda, this is Oliver Mellors.

- Hello.
- Pleasure to meet you.

Take a seat then.

Hilda.

What do you want me to say?

Whatever it is you're thinking.

Very well.

It is one thing
to hold trysts in your cottage,

but what happens
when you go out into the world?

When Connie's friends
cross the street to avoid her.

That's not fair.

She's got me figured out, then, eh?

What summed me up so quick?
Were it summat I said?

Mr. Mellors.

How do you expect to take care of her
once you've lost your job?

Do you actually believe
you can give her a chance at happiness?

Oh, you're asking the wrong person there.

All I know is I get
a great deal of happiness from her.

- Thought of your own happiness at least.
- Hilda, enough!

I think you understand
far better than she does

how badly this could end, Mr. Mellors.

Think about how much
she really means to you.

I'll pick you up
in the morning, Connie. Early.

Don't keep me waiting.

- Mr. Mellors.
- Hilda.

I'm so sorry.
I shouldn't have brought her.

Please don't let her upset you.

She's just protective.

She's right.

We haven't thought
beyond tomorrow, have we?

Sir Clifford will fight this divorce.

He'll fight to keep our child.

I never had to think about these things
until you turned up.

Let's go upstairs.

Yeah, that's good. That's good.

Yes.

The fuck are you playing at, Ned?

Calm down, Mellors.
I'm not here to fight. Bertha sent me.

She's your problem now.

Not mine.

Ain't how she sees it.

She's still your wife,
entitled to half your military pension.

Aye, and I'm entitled to a divorce.
I won't get one, will I?

Fuck off, then.

All right. I'm going.

I'm going.

Is he gone?

Unless his heart's just given out running.

Stay there till we know he's gone.

Oh, what is she thinking?

Go on.

Connie.

For heaven's sake, Connie.

We're going to Venice tomorrow.
Do you have to look so miserable?

I think I'm pregnant.

Oh.

Right.

I assume it's not Clifford's.

No.

Although, he did say he would be happy
for me to have a child with another man.

- Seriously?
- Mm-hmm.

I don't know
how much longer I can do this.

It's all right.

What exactly?

What's happened?

I'm in love with someone

other than Clifford.

So you've taken a lover?

Well, good.

Do I know the man?

No.

But I think I...
want a divorce from Clifford.

Because of your feelings
for this other man?

Well, if you want my opinion...

I'm sorry, but you stand to gain
very little by breaking things off.

Feelings come and go.

You may love one man this year
and another the next,

but the world will go on.

And Wragby will go on standing.

Please yourself,

but stick by Wragby.

And Wragby will stick by you.

Let's go to Venice, shall we?

He comes back home
thinking he's better than the lot of us.

Gets the world to think poor Bertha's
to blame for all their trouble,

and then he refuses to support her.

- Bloody disgrace.
- I know.

Bertha goes to the cottage today,
trying to patch things up.

Makes sense.

She found
them silk nightclothes in the fire.

No wonder he keeps to himself.
He's hiding a woman in there.

Lady Chatterley
loans her gamekeeper a book,

and she's accused of...
Sorry, that's outrageous.

Of course it is. I won't breathe
another word on the subject.

Everyone's talking about it.
You know how people gossip.

Sir, no one
wants to have this conversation,

but we must.

And of course,
it's pure nonsense.

But your gamekeeper
seems to inspire all manner of rumors.

The sooner you pack him off, the better.

I appreciate
you coming to me with this.

Your concerns are noted.

Hello...

I'd like a London number, please.

Lady Chatterley.

- Ayuh, Mrs. Bolton.
- Good day.

I hear Sir Clifford's asking for me.

Of course, yes. He's in his study.

Right, aye.

Mr. Mellors.

I called Her Ladyship,
and she's coming back.

- When?
- This evening.

As soon as she can get here.

She said you could meet at the hut
and decide what to do.

There's...

There's dark days coming, Mrs. Bolton.

Best to steer clear from it all.

Come in.

You are my servant,

living upon my land at my sole discretion,

and now your indecencies
have become the subject of gossip.

You should
shut the mouths of the gossips...

Are you aware that Lady Chatterley's
name has been slandered?

Apparently, her name was inscribed
in a book found at the cottage.

I've got a picture of Queen Mary
on me wall calendar.

I suppose she's in my harem as well.

I do not appreciate your sarcasm, Mellors.

You have until the end of today,

after which time I never want to see you
set foot upon my land again.

- Do I make myself clear?
- Oh, perfectly.

I better get packing then.

Mrs. Flint. Mrs. Flint, excuse me.

- I have to get Josephine to bed.
- I know you've heard things.

Please, I can't do this.
We lease this farm from Sir Clifford.

And you always will.

You met him here, didn't you?
The day he came to get milk?

- I thought you'd come to see us.
- Of course I did.

I found where you
parked the car in the trees.

- No, that was one time.
- I don't want to know.

Good evening, Lady Chatterley.

What are you doing?
Where are you going?

Oliver.

The cat is well and truly
out of the bag now, Connie.

Everybody's talking.

I've been sacked.

You cannot be seen here, Connie.
You need to be in Venice.

- But we could just leave together. Now.
- Look at me.

I have nothing to give you.

I've no job. I've no home.
I've no purpose in life. Nothing.

Don't say that.

You are everything to me.

Mellors!

You need to go!

- Look at me.
- Shh.

Promise me, promise me
we'll share our lives.

- Aye.
- Promise.

Aye, me lass.

When the time comes.

When the time comes.

- Mellors!
- Oh...

Ayuh, can I grab me coat, mate, or...

I'll find you.

Wherever you are, I'll find you.

- My Ladyship, you shouldn't be here.
- No, Mrs. Bolton.

Connie.

It's all true.

Why would you do this?

- It was your idea.
- My idea? No, no, no.

Clifford, you knew perfectly well
what I was getting into.

With the right sort of man.
I said the right sort!

Oliver Mellors is a better person
than anyone I've ever met.

I was perfectly clear, Connie.

- We discussed the rules.
- I'm going to have his child.

You're going to...

You're sure?

But... everybody knows.

You can't possibly expect me
to claim that child as mine now.

No, I...

I don't.

I don't.

I want a divorce, Clifford.

I'm leaving you.

No. No, you can't.

Look, I'm... I'm so sorry
about how this has all turned out,

but we both know that this... marriage

has been very unhappy
for a very long time now.

It hasn't been.
It hasn't been. Not for me.

Well, yes.

Because you laid out all the rules.

And I tried to follow them.

I tried to support you
in every way I could.

But you gave me
nothing in return.

Not the slightest drop
of affection or kindness.

And what's worse, you made me feel ashamed
for even wanting those things.

I've always cared for you, Connie.

Yes, cared for me.

In the same way you care
for your books and for your radio,

but never in the ways I need you to.

I love you, Connie.

I've loved you the only way I know how.

I've given you everything
I know how to give.

It's not enough.

Then talk to me, Con.

Help me understand.

Show me how I can prove to you how I feel.

Let me go.

Please.

Let me go.

Go.

Though know this.

I will never grant you your divorce.

Because you broke your word.

Because you've made a mockery
of my life here in Wragby.

I am not inclined
to give you anything ever again.

I don't think you ever really were.

Milady.

Uh...

I wasn't meaning to pry,
but I worried about you.

I'm all right.

Listen.

You have no idea where Mellors has gone?

No.

Would you ask your friends
to let you know if they hear any news?

And why shall I say I'm asking?

Because I love him.

- Tell them that.
- Yes, milady.

Milady...

I do hope you find your gentleman.

Thank you, Mrs. Bolton.

So do I.

So do I.

It's all true, then?

Has Her Ladyship left Sir Clifford?

Her Ladyship has asked

that you will pass along
any news of Mr. Mellors.

"'Cause I love him," she said.

She gave up everything for him.

Her title, her wealth,
her position in the world.

Now she's lost him.

I'll not hear a word spoken against them.

This is a love story.

This place is losing its charm,
don't you think?

What?

Let's go back to London.

All right.

I'm Connie Reid. I don't think we met.

Have a lovely evening.

How many times have you read that page?

What?

Well... it looks as though he's found you.

- Oh my God.
- Yes.

You'll want my car again, I imagine.

You'll be impressed to learn
that word of your departure from Wragby

has made it all the way
to my little village in Scotland.

A man came to work in the local mines,
brought the tale with him,

telling everyone in the pub
about a lady who fell for a hired man

and didn't care if the world knew it
because... she loved him.

Names weren't used, of course.

I was simply "the gamekeeper."

You were the "Lady in love."

Excuse me, I'm looking for Oliver Mellors.

Do you... Do you know him?

Oh yes, I do.

He's down that road.

Thank you. Thank you so much!

It was a good story,
and I found myself wondering

if there might be more to the tale.

A feller I knew from the army
got me work at a farm here.

Thirty shillings a week

and decent lodgings
in a cottage up the road.

I thought I needed a purpose

before bringing you
and a child into my life.

I can't say I've found
any greater meaning here on the farm,

but I've made a home.

I can't imagine
what you've already been through

and how much you've already given up.

You'd be giving up even more
to come live here with me,

but...

Oliver!

...what we have... together

is different than anything
I've ever known.

There's a little flame between us.
It's always burning.

And I've come to believe
that tending a fire like that is...

purpose enough for any life.