Philadelphia, Here I Come! (1977) - full transcript

There are big ones, Patrick?

There'll be rain before, mate.

I'm off tomorrow, Patrick.



If it's not rain, it's wind.

America.

America tomorrow.

No. I have no more cockles and l'ascs.

Not with this wind.

How your father keeping?

Fine.

Come back on Thursday.

I'll have more for you then.

J' Will I find what I am seeking? J'

J' Will I search until I die? J'

J' Is the needle in the haystack? J'



J' Does the needle have an eye? J'

J' Must I always go on searching? J"

J' Is the needle really there? J'

J' Am I reaching out for straws? J'

J' As they swirl up in the air J'

J' If the eye should have the needle J'

J' If the needle has a thread J'

J' Would the thread mend all the sorrow? J'

J' That I feel within my head J'

J' Is the needle in the haystack? J'

J' Does the needle have an eye? J'

J' Will I find what I am seeking? J'

J' Will I search until I die? J'

J' If the needle hurts my finger J'

J' I would not bleed too much J'

J' But I knew that it existed J'

J' And at /east I'd be intact J'

J' Do my questions have an answer? J'

J' Will the thread be found at last? J'

J' Is the answer in the future? J'

J' Are the problems near/y past? J'

J' Do my questions have an answer? J'

J' Will the thread be just a start? J'

J' Will the thread mend
All the sorrows that I feel? J'

J' Within my heart J'

...bringing rain at times,
becoming brighter at showers.

Tea!

That completes the 6:00 p.m.
weather forecast.

There will be a further news summary
at 10:00 p.m.

And now, on the Murphy Show
at five past 6:00,

we have some music.

Oh!

Get away, you smelly thing.

You know what the bastard does, Madge?

Ten minutes till closing, I'm just about
to put up my shutters, and he says,

"Gut and salt them, two boxes of poll0ck."

G0 and wash yourself.

You're not going to sit at this table
smelling the place out.

So Ijust looked him straight in the eye
and I said,

"Father, you are the greatest
elephant's bollocks in Donegal."

And none of that talk in this house.

Will ya miss me, Madge?

Huh?

Will ya miss me?

Now, I'm warning ya, boy.

Will ya write to me?

Oh, every clay.

Now get out of my road.

Don't start the floor show
till I've changed.

Okay?

It's all over.

Ancl it's all about to begin.

All over.

Think, Gar. Think...

Up in that bloody big bugger of a jet,

with its snout pointing straight
for the States,

and its tail belching smoke over Ireland,

and you sitting up at the front,

with your confident fingers stretched out
over the controls,

ancl then, away down below in the Atlantic,

you see a bloody bugger of an Irish boat
out fishing for bloody pollock and...

Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat!

Abandon ship! Make for the boats.
Send for Canon Mick O'Byrne!

Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat!

To hell with the women and children!
Say an act of contrition.

Yipee! Yip!

It looks as if, "I can't make it out well
from the distance."

But it looks as if, yes, the free is
being taken by clashing Gar O'Donnell,

the pride of the Ballybeg team.

O'Donnell is now in position.

He takes a cool,
calculating look at the goal.

He's in position. He's moving up.

And. ..

Ya-hoo!

J' Philadelphia, here I come J'

J' Right back where I started from J'

Gareth Mary O'Donnell.

Sir.

Are you fully conscious of
the consequence of your decision?

Yes, sir.

Of leaving the land of your birth?

The land of the snipe...

curlew...

the Aran sweater, the Irish sweepstakes?

I... I have considered all these, sir.

Of going to a profane, pagan,
irreligious land of gross materialism?

I am fully sensitive to this, sir.

Where the devil himself holds sway...

and where lust, abhorrent lust,

is everywhere indulged in shamelessly?

Who are you tellin'?

Shamelessly, sir. Shamelessly.

Ancl still, you persist in exposing
yourself in these fearful dangers?

I might submit, sir, that these stories
are slightly exaggerated.

For every long-legged, live-limbed...

big breasted, luscious thing...

Oh, you put the heart across me there.

To my road, will ya?

Ancl the smell of the place!

Madge, you're an 0l' cluck.

Aye, so. There's the case.

And there's a piece of rope,
for I see the clasp's all rusted.

Ancl there's your shirts and
your winter vests and your heavy socks.

And you need to air them shorts
before you--

Don't put them smelly hands on them.

Sorry.

And see that they're well aired
before you put them on.

He's said nothing since, I suppose?

Not a word.

The bugger.

He hasn't paid you your week's wages?

£7.10, that'll see me far.

He'll have something to say to you then,
you will see.

Ancl maybe he'll slip you
a few extra pounds.

Whether he says good-bye to me or not,

or whether he slips me
a couple of miserable quid or not,

it is a matter of
complete indifference to me, Madge.

Aye, so.

- Your tea's on the table.
- Give us a minute.

And there's another thing.

Even if he doesn't say much,

that doesn't mean that he hasn't feelings
like the rest of us.

Say much? He's said nothing.

He's said nothing either
when your mother died.

It was near daybreak
when he got to sleep last night.

I could hear his bed creaking.

Well, to hell with him.

Ancl don't come into your tea
smelling like a...

lobster pot.

If he wants to speak to me
he knows where to find me.

I'm damned
if I'm going to speak to him first.

Ancl you can tell him I said so
if you like.

What the hell do you care
about him anyway?

Screwballs. Skinflint.

Skittery face.

You're free of him
and his bloody 0l' shop.

And tomorrow morning, boy,

when that little old plane gets up
into the sky,

you'll stick your head out the window...

and spit on the lot of them.

'Gar?

Let the bugger call.

Gar?

Aye?

How many coils of barbed-wire came in
on the mail-van this evening?

Two. Or is it three?

That's what I'm asking you.

It was you
that carried them into the yard.

There were two.

No, no, no, three. Yeah, three.

Or maybe was it... two?

What sort of
a stupid bloody bugger are you?

Think, man, think.

You went out and stood yarning
to Joe the post.

Then you carried in one coil and came out
with a bag of spuds for the parochial.

You carried in the second coil
and put it in the corner,

then you came out of the car again and...

It is now 16 or 17 years since I saw
the queen of France,

then the dauphiness, at Versailles.

Ah, what the hell odds.
It's his headache now, old Nicodemus.

After tomorrow, a coil of barbed-wire
will be a mere bagatelle to you.

Well, let's get packing, boy.

Let's get that little old saddle bag
opened up, and let's get packin'.

But first let's have some little 0l' music
on the little 0l' phonograph.

Yeah, man. You bet.

Ah, reckon. Yes, sir.

The violin concerto by Mendelssohn,
opus 64.

The orchestra is the Ballybeg Rovers.

The soloist, in blue and white jersey,
is Gareth O'Donnell,

who prefers to begin with
the second movement.

Ah, hell.

How can anyone head into a jet
with that old cardboard rubbish.

Damn it. Maybe you could give it
a lick of paint.

Or wash it.

Ah, careful.
You'll rub a hole in the damn thing.

Hey.

Maybe 0l' Screwball will give you fiver.
Get a new one in Dublin.

What a hope.

Stinks of cat's pee.

The Clarion.

January 1st, 1945.

My God, was it?

By God, it was.

The clay they were married.

Hasn't been used since their honeymoon.

She and old Screwballs off to Bundoran
for three days.

O God, the creator and redeemer
of all the faithful,

granted the soul of Maire, my mother,

the remission of all her sins,
that she may obtain...

She was small, Madge says.

Ancl wild and young, Madge says.

Ancl she came from a place called
Bailtefree, beyond the mountains.

Eternal rest grant unto her, O Lorcl,
and may perpetual light and glory shine.

She was 19 and he was 40.

And she thought he was
the grandest gentleman that ever lived.

Ancl he couldn't take his eyes off of her,
Madge says.

Ancl maybe, sometimes,
during that first year,

when she was pregnant with you, laddybuck,

and all the other young girls
from Bailtefree would come up here

to get dressed up to go to a dance,
Madge says.

And her face would light up too,
Madge says.

And he must have known, old Screwballs.

He must have known.

He must have heard her sometimes,

crying herself to sleep at night.

And maybe God was good to take her
three clays after you were born,

Madge says.

Ah, damn you, anyhow,
for a silly, stupid bastard.

It is now 16 or 17 years
since I saw the queen of France.

And to hell with that bloody fiddler.

J' Philadelphia, here I come J'

Watch yourself, nuthead. Let yourself
slip like that, and you'll find yourself--

J' Right back where I started from J'

Something lively. Something bloody animal.

A bit of 0l' thumpety-thump.

You keep talkin' to yourself, man.
'Cause if you stop talking to yourself,

you start thinking kind of crazy things.

Aha! Yipee!

Right...

Right...

Got a great crowd here tonight now, huh?

Oh, you're looking powerful.
How's your grammy, old boy Griffin, huh?

Remember, that was Kathy's tune.

Don't pretend you've forgotten.

Reminds the clay the two of you
made all the plans.

You thought your heart
would burst with happiness.

Yip!

You're going to take her photograph
to the States with you?

When are you going to say good-bye?
Will you write to her?

You loved her once, old rooster.

Ancl you wanted so much to marry her
that it was a bloody sickness.

Tell me something, randy boy.
Tell me the truth.

Have you got over that sickness yet?

Do you still love her?
Do you still lust after her?

Well, do you? Do you? Do you?

Bugger!

Shh...

Kate.

Sweet Kathy Doogan.

My own darling Kathy Doogan.

Bitch.

Rotten snobby bitch.

Looks like her stinking
rotten father and mother.

A bugger and a buggeress.

No, no.

My fault.

All my fault.

By God, that was a clay, boy, eh?

You made a right bloody cow's ass
of yourself.

Remember? When was it?

Ten months ago?

You were coming back from that walk
out of the white strand.

And the pair of you
had the who/e thing planned.

Engaged at Christmas, married at Easter.

Fourteen of a family.

Seven boys and seven girls.

Cripes, you make me laugh.

You were going to develop
the hardware lines,

and she was going to take charge...

Kathy, I'm mad about you.

I'll never last till Easter.

I'll bloody well burst.

Steady, boy, steady.

The canon might be
above in the bent watching.

Gar, £7.10.

We could never manage to live on that.

Mmm?

Gar, listen.

How will we live?

Mm.

- What do you mean?
- You know what I mean.

- What are you talking about?
- How will we live?

- How?
- Like lords!

Free house, free light, free fuel,
free groceries.

Every evening at 7:00 after we close...

except Saturday.

He stays open till damn near midnight
on Saturdays,

making out bloody bills.

Sure God and the world knows
that sending out bills in this place

is like peeing against the wind.

Gar, no matter what you say,
we just couldn't live on that much money.

It's not possible.

We'll need more security than that.

Maybe he'll die tonight
of galloping consumption.

- Gar, please.
- What's troubling you?

Please, this is serious.

What is it?

You'll have to see
about getting some more money.

Of course I'll see
about getting more money.

Didn't I tell ya
I'm going to ask him for a rise?

Yeah, but will he give it to you?

I'll get it, I'll get it.
Don't worry about it.

I'll get it.

Besides, I have a source of income
that he knows nothing about.

That no one knows nothing about.

Investments? Like Daddy?

Sort of.

You know, every Tuesday and Friday,
when I go round the country in the van?

- Yeah.
- Well, I buy eggs direct from the farms

and sell them privately
to McLaughlin's Hotel,

for a handsome profit.

And he knows nothing about it.

How much do you make?

- It varies.
- Roughly?

About four quid.

Every Tuesday and Friday?

Every month.

Oh, Kate, I can't wait till Christmas.

- Shh.
- I can't. Let's get married soon.

Next month. Next week.

Steady, steady.

Kate.

Sweet Kate.

Darling Kathy.

We'll go now, right away, and tell them.

Tell who what?

Tell who what?

- Mammy and Daddy.
- What do I tell them?

That you want their permission
to marry me next week.

They'll wipe the bloody floor with me.

It must be now, Gar. Now.

Look at these shoes. Look at the trousers.

They're fine. It's now, Gar. Now.

God, Kate, my legs are trembling.

Go on.

Now, Gar, now.

Anybody at home?

Mammy? Daddy?

Mr. Doogan... Senator Doogan...

I want permission to... Oh, my God.

Yo-hoo!

Where is everybody?

Uh, Mrs. Doogan, Kathy and I
have to get married right away.

Cripes, no.

Don't look so miserable. Here.

Kathy, could we not leave it until...
until next Sunday.

Now, remember, it's up to you, Gar.
It's entirely up t0 you.

Is that you, Kate?

Listen, you've got £20 a week
and £5,000 at the bank.

And your father is just about to retire.

It's just Gar and I, Daddy.

Hello, Gareth.

You're a stranger.

Speak, you dummy you.

Where's Mammy?

She's watching TV.

Let's go into the lounge, shall we?

And how are things with you, Gareth?

Mr. Doogan, I want...

Go on, go on.

I won't be staying long.

Francis arrived when you were out, Kate.

Took a few days off
and decided to come north.

Cripes.

He's here now?

Inside with your mother.

Ask them to join us, will you?

You talk to Daddy, Gar.

I will, I will.

You've met Francis King,
haven't you, Gareth?

Yes, yes.

King of the bloody fairies.

We don't want to raise
Kate's hopes unduly,

but strictly between ourselves,

there's a good chance that
he'll get the new dispensary job here.

Kate's hopes?

Didn't she tell you?

No, I can see she didn't.

Of course there's nothing official yet,

not even what you might call
an "understanding."

But if this post
does fall into his lap, well,

her mother and I...

Let's say we're living in hope.

A fine boy, Francis.
We've known the Kings since, 0h, way back.

As a matter of fact, his father and I
were class fellows at school.

Cripes.

Then later at university,
when he did medicine and I did law,

we knocked about quite a bit.

- Shared a flat, have our first car...
- Oh, God.

- Dumb bitch.
- Even went holidaying together.

Says you look a right fool standing there.

The father of 14 children.

- Tell me, how's your father, Gareth?
- Get out, you idiot. Get out.

Before the others come in
and die laughing at you.

Your father, Gareth?

He's talking to you, thick skull!

Wh-What was that?

Your father, how is he?

Oh, he's fine. Fine.

Get out. Get out.

Uh, Mr. Doogan, I'll be moving along now,
if you'll excuse me.

Well, aren't you waiting for the others?
They'll be along in a moment.

N0, no, I'd better run. I've got to make
up a half a hundred weight of sugar bags.

Brilliant.

- If you say good-bye to...
- Certainly, certainly.

Mrs. Doctor Francis King.

Eight of September, in harvest sunshine.

Red carpet, white lilies.

Sean Horgan singing "Bless this House,"

and him whipped away to Sligo Jail
two clays later for stealing turf.

Honeymoon in Mallorca.

And you couldn't even afford
to take her to Malahide.

Ah, Gar, my old son,

it was a sore hoke
on the old prestige, eh?

Between ourselves, old sun,

in the privacy of the bedroom,

hasn't it left a deep scar
on the 0l' skitter of a soul, eh?

Oh, what I mean to say is like,
you took it real bad.

Well, between you, me and the wall,
as the fella says...

J' Philadelphia, here I come J'

"And there's plenty more fish
in the sea," as the fella says.

And they all look the same upside down.

What are you going to wear on the plane,
old rooster?

Mighty smart.

Mighty smart.

Mighty sharp.

Mighty sharp.

Well-preserved
for a father of 14 children.

Hi, gorgeous.

You live in my block?

Yeah, handsome boy, sure do.

Mind ifl walk you past the incinerator
t0 the elevator?

You're welcome, slick operator.

A malted milk at the corner drugstore?

Wow!

A movie at the downtown drive-in?

Wow-wow.

Two hamburgers, two Cokes,
two slices of blueberry pie?

Wow-wow-wow.

And later...

my apartment.

Gee, Mary, and Jay.
Will you quit them antics?

You should knock
before you enter a man's room.

Man, I bathed you every Saturday night
till you were a big lout of 14.

Your tea is cold, waiting.

How was I meant to know my tea was ready?

Amn't I hoarse calling you?

Oh, I forgot to tell you,
Nelly had a wee baby this morning.

- Go on.
- A wee girl, seven pounds, four ounces.

How many is that you have now?

Four grandnieces and three grandnephews.

Ancl they're going to call this one Madge.

At least so she says.

Maybe I'll take her on over on Sunday
and square the place up for her.

She could do with some help
with seven of them!

Madge, you're a brick.

Aye, so.

Boss!

Here comes your pleasure.

Your little ray of sunshine.

Ladies and gentlemen,
I give you the one and only,

the inimitable, the irresistible
county councilor,

S.B. O'Donnell.

Ancl this time, Mary Celeste is wearing
a cheeky little headdress

by Pamela of Park Avenue.

Imminently suitable for cocktail parties,

morning coffee, or just casual shopping.

I would draw your attention
to the large collar stud,

which is highly decorative and may be
purchased separately at our boutique.

We call this seductive little outfit
"Indiscretion."

It can be worn six days a week,
in or out of bed.

Oh, take a seat, Screwballs.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Remove the hat.

On again.

Perfectly trained.

Now, for our nightly lesson
in the English language.

Repeat slowly after me.

"Another clay over."

Another clay over.

Next phrase.

"I suppose we can't complain."

I suppose we can't complain.

Not bad.

Now, for a little free conversation.

But remember now, Father clear,
no obscenities.

The boy is only 25 years of age.

Oh, come on. Come on, come on.

Where is that old rapier wit of yours?

The toast of the Ballybeg coffeehouses?

Did you set the rat trap in the store?

Uh, yeah.

Oh, good.

Isn't he a riot?

Oh, that father of yours just kills me.

But wait. Wait. Shh...

I didn't find as many of them about
this year.

Oh, God. Priceless.

"I didn't find as many of them about
this year."

Oh, but isn't he informed tonight?

Screwballs.

We've eaten together like this
for the past 20-odd years.

Now I'm leaving you forever.

And you know why, don't you?

Because I'm 25 and you treat me
as if I was five.

But worse, far worse than that,

we embarrass one another.

So now, Screwballs, I want you to make
one unpredictable remark.

Ancl even though I'll still be
on that plane in the morning,

I'll have my doubts.

Maybe I should have stuck it out.

Maybe the old codger did have feelings.

Maybe I maligned the old bastard.

So now, Screwballs, say...

"Once upon a time,
a rainbow ended in our garden."

Say, "I...

I like to walk along the white strand
when a misty rain has fallen."

Say, "Gar, Son."

Say, "Gar, you old bugger, why don't you
stick it out here with me.

For it's not such a bad old bugger
of a place after all."

G0 on. Say it.

Say it. Say it!

True enough.

What?

I didn't find as many of them about
this year.

- Madge!
- What's wrong with you?

Mustard.

Get it yourself.

Ticktock. Ticktock.

Ticktock. Ticktock!

It is now 16 or 17 years since I saw
the queen of France,

then the dauphiness, at Versailles.

Go on.

What's the next line?

I suppose you'll be looking for your pay.

I earned it.

I'm not saying you didn't.

It's all there. You needn't count it.

Didn't say I was going to count it, did I?

Ticktock. Ticktock.

Ticktock!

More tea?

Sure you know, I never take a second cup.

"Sure you know,
I never take a second cup."

Okay, okay, Screwballs.

Ah, it's better this way, isn't it?

You can't teach new tricks
to two old dogs like us.

Shop?

The shop's closed.

It's Master Boyle.

Is he here to pay his bill?

He's looking for you.

He's been on the bottle all week.

Get rid of him.

Hello, Master Boyle.

Ah, Gar.

God, but you're a sorry looking wreck too.

Yet whatever it is about you...

Tomorrow morning, is it?

Quarter past 7:00.

I'm getting the mail-van
as far as the airport.

You're doing the right thing, of course.

You'll never regret it.

I gather it's a vast restless place
that doesn't give a curse about the past.

That's the way things should be.

Improminence, anonymity.

It offers great advantages.

Did you, uh, hear about the latest row
between the canon and myself?

No. When was this?

This day week.

Threatened to sack me.

But they can't.

I've got the organization behind me.

Solidly behind me.

Ah, you'll get over it.

Everybody knows the kind of the canon.

Did I tell you that
I may be going out there myself?

Poor bastard.

Offered a lectureship in education
at Boston University.

They've given me three months
to think it over.

And what are you doing out there?

Working in an hotel.

Will you have a job waiting for you?

In Philadelphia.

Oh, you'll do all right.

You're young, strong,
average intelligence.

Good old Boyle. Get the dig in.

You staying with friends?

With Aunt Lizzy.

Of course.

Go on. Try him.

You knew her, Master, didn't you?

Oh, yes, I knew all the Gallagher girls.

Lizzy, Una, Rose, Agnes.

And Maire, my mother? Did you love her?

It was a long time ago.

In the past.

He, uh, comes up here every night
to see your father, doesn't he?

The canon? Oh, he won't be here for ages.

Oh, anyhow, I...
I think I better be moving on.

To the pub?

Do you remember the Christmas
you sent me the packet of cigarettes?

Ancl the clay you brought a pot of jam
up to the digs?

It was you, wasn't it?

You know it was.

Three months they've given me
to make up my mind.

I remember very well.

Oh, uh, by the way,

here's a little something to remind you
of your old teacher.

My poems.
I had them printed privately last month.

Some of them are a bit mawkish,
but you'll not notice any distinction.

I'm very grateful, Master.

My only advice to you, Gar,
is to strike out on your own

as soon as you find your feet out there.

Don't keep looking back
over your shoulder.

Be, uh, a hundred percent American.

I'll do that.

There is an inscription on the flyleaf.

I was wondering could you, uh,
lend me a pound until...

Well, I was going to say until next week,
but you'll be gone by then.

Surely, surely.

I seem to have come out without my wallet.

Give him the two.

Fine, fine, Gar.

I'll move on now.

Yes, yes. I knew all the Gallagher girls
from Bailtefree.

Maire and Una, Rose and Lizzy,
Agnes, and, uh...

Maire, your mother.

You might have been my father.

Oh, another thing I'd like to ask you,

um, should you come across
any newspapers or magazines

that might be interested in publishing
the occasional poem,

perhaps you'll send me the addresses.

I'll keep an eye out.

You know, I haven't been writing
as much as I should,

but, uh, you know what I mean.

Well, you have your packing to do,
ancl I'm talking too much as usual.

Good luck, Gareth.

Thanks, Master.

Forget Ballybeg and Ireland.

Maybe it's easier said.

Perhaps you'll write to me.

I will indeed.

No doubt. No doubt.

I'll, um...

I'll miss you, Gar.

For God's sake,
take a grip of yourself.

Thanks for the poems, Master.

Stop it, stop it, stop it.

Quick. Up to your room.

Survivor shelter.

Remember, you're going.

10:15.

You're still going.

Ancl he's nothing but a drunken
old school teacher.

An arrogant, conceited washout.

O God, the creator and redeemer
of all the faith.

Get a grip of yourself.

Don't be a damn sentimental fool.

J' Philadelphia, here I come J'

Maire and Una and Rose and Agnes
and Lizzy and Maire, my mother.

Yes, sir. You're going to cut
quite a dash in them there States.

All them big dames and fancy livin',

dances and films.

Kathy.

You know what you're doing,
don't you, laddybuck?

You're storing up memories
and impressions and images.

They'll make you miserable.

In a way, that's what you want, isn't it?

Bugger!

Bugger's right.
Bugger's absolutely correct.

Back to the job, keep occupied,
be methodical.

Will all those passengers holding
immigration visas, please come this way?

- Passport?
- Passport.

- Visa?
- Visa.

- Vaccination cert?
- Vaccination cert.

- Sponsorship papers?
- Signed by Mr. Conal Sweeney.

Uncle Conal and Auntie Lizzy,
who made the whole thing possible.

Read her letter again.

Strictly for laughs.

"Dear Nephew Gar,

just a line to let you know
that your Uncle Conal and me

- have finalized all the plans."
- Uncle Conal and I.

"The apartment is situated
in a pretty nice locality,

and you will have the spare room,
which has TV

and air conditioning and window meshes
and your own bathroom with a shower."

Adjacent to RC church. No children.
Other help kept.

"You will begin on Monday, the 23rd,
at the Emperor Hotel,

which is only about 20 minutes away."

Monsieur. Madam.

"Con says it's a fine place to work in,
and the owner is Mr. Patrick Palinakis,

- who is half-Irish...
- Patrick?

- ...and half-Greek.
- Palinakis?

- His grandfather came from Kerry.
- By the hokey. A Greek from Killarney.

We know you will like it here
and work hard.

We remember our short trip to Ireland
last September with happy thoughts,

and look forward to seeing you again.

Until we see you, all love, Elise.

P.S. About paying back the passage money,
which you mentioned in your last letter.

Desist. No 0ne's crying about it."

Elise.

Damn it, Lizzy Gallagher,
you came up in the world.

September 8th.

By God, Lizzy was in right
talking form that day.

"You're invited t0 attend the wedding
of Kathleen Doogan of Gortmore House."

Damn it, O'Donnell.
None of this moody driveling.

They arrived in the afternoon, remember?

One of those autumn days.

- There you are, Johnny.
- Thank you.

- How's your mammy?
- Well.

Tell her I was asking for her.

Glory be to God, they're here already.

You go down to the river
and tell Gar his Auntie Lizzy is here.

- He's below, fishing.
- Right, Madge.

Thank you.

Honey, oh...

Welcome, Lizzy.

Welcome home.

Ancl this is Ben Burton.

And here we are.

Sit down, Lizzy.

Ancl make yourselves at home.

We didn't expect you till the evening.

The boss is at a wedding,
but Gar ought to be back any minute.

Will you help yourselves?

I have to mind the shop.

Gar, your Aunt Lizzy is here.

What?

You Aunt Lizzy is here!

Well, anyway, there we are.

All sitting like stuffed ducks
in the front seat.

Una and Agnes and Rose and Mother and me.

Oh, and Mother, all dickied up
in a good black shawl and everything.

And up at the altar rails,

there's Maire, all by herself.

Oh, but listen to this.
This will kill you.

Mother's here, see, and Agnes is here,
and I'm here.

And Agnes leans across Mother to me
and she says,

in this helluva loud voice...

Oh, this really does kill me.

She says, in this whisper of hers,
she says...

Oh, you know
the size of Bailtefree chapel,

you couldn't swing a cat in that place.

Hey, that chapel is still there, isn't it?

Hasn't fell down or nothing, has it?

Well, unless it fell down
in the last couple of hours.

We drove up there this morning, remember?

Oh, yeah!

So we did.

Oh, a fine place.

Made me feel kind of...
you know.

Um, 0h, what the hell was I talking about?

Agnes leaned over to you and said...

Oh, thanks, Ben.

A great friend.

With a great memory.

I tell you, Gar, Ben Burton is 100 percent

the first and best friend we made
when we went over there.

Right, Daddy?

Get on with the story, honey.

You were telling us about that morning.

Oh, what's he talking about?

The clay my father and mother got married.

Ohh! Oh, that clay.
Oh, wasn't it something?

With the wind howling
and the rain slashing around...

Oh, Mother. Poor Mother.
May God be good to her.

She thought, just because Maire
got this guy with a big store,

we should all of us get guys
with big stores.

Poor Maire.

We were so alike in every way,
Maire and me.

Oh! Oh, but he was good to her.

I'll say that for S.B. O'Donnell.

Real good to her.

Hey! Where the hell is he, anyway?

Why will S.B. O'Donnell,
my brother-in-law, not meet me?

He told you.

He's away at a wedding.

What wedding?

Some local girl and some Dublin doc.

What local girl? You think
I'm a stranger here or something?

What local girl?

Senator Doogan's daughter.

Never heard of him.
Some Johnny hop-up.

You'll think about
what we were discussing.

I will, Uncle Con.

The job is as good as you'll get.
We'll be proud to have you.

Don't force him.

I'm not forcing him. I'm only telling him.

Well, now you've told him a dozen times,
so now desist, will you?

I will think about it, really.

Oh, sure, sure.

Typical Irish.

He will think about it.

And while he's thinking about it
the store falls down about his head.

Tell me, what age are you?
Twenty-six, 27? What are you waiting for?

For S.B. to run away to sea?
Until the weather gets better?

Honey.

Well, I'm talking straight to the kid.

He's Maire's boy.

I've got an interest in him.

The only nephew I have.

Am I right, or am I wrong?

Right.

You're about to tell us
what Agnes whispered to you.

Oh, poor Aggy-

Dead.

Maire, dead.

Rose, Lizzy...

All dead.

All dead. Gone.

Honey, you're Lizzy.

S0 what?

Well, honey, you're not dead.

You've gone senile all of a sudden?

Give him no more to drink.

Oh, for God's sake, who says I'm dead?

You're very much alive, Elise.

Oh, thanks, Ben.

A great friend with a great intellect.

He's still the best friend we have.

Oh, and we have many
clear, kind friends in the US.

- Right, Daddy?
- Right.

Ancl that's why I say to you,
America is God's own country.

Right, Ben?

Don't ask me, uh... I was born there.

What do you mean "don't ask me"?

I am asking you.
He should come over, he should not.

Which is it?

Well, it's just
another place to live, Elise.

Ireland, America...

What's the difference?

Listen, we have
this ground-floor apartment, see,

and a car that is air-conditioned
and color TV.

Oh, and this big collection
of all the Irish records you ever heard,

and, uh... Oh!

Ancl this backyard with this great,
big cherry tree in it.

Ancl squirrels and night owls...

Ancl the smell of lavender in the spring.

And long summer evenings...

Oh, 0h! Ancl snow at Christmas.

And-And a Christmas tree in the parlor.

Elise...

Ancl it's all so God-awful...

because we have no one
to share it with us.

It's okay, honey. It's okay.

He's my sister's boy.

The only child of five girls of us.

And... And we spent a fortune on doctors.

Didn't we, Daddy?

It was no use.

Then I says to him... I says,

"We'll go home to Ireland."

Ancl Maire's boy...

We'll offer him everything we have.

N0, nQ!

Everything, and...

maybe we can coax him, you know.

Maybe it's sort of bribery,
I don't know...

but he would have everything
we've ever gathered.

Keep it. Keep it!

And all the love we have in us.

No. No!

Got a long drive to the hotel, honey.

Oh.

All was the same with us Gallagher girls,
wasn't it?

Either laughing or crying,

sort of silly and impetuous
and shooting our big mouths off,

talking too much.

Oh.

Not like the O'Donnells, you know.

Kind of... cold.

Don't, man, don't.

Your gloves, honey. It's been a heavy clay.

Tell your father that we regret
we did not have the opportunity

for to make his acquaintance again,
after all these years.

I want to go to America,
if you'll have me.

- Laddy...
- Sure, son.

You think it over. You think it over.

No, as soon as I can, Aunt Lizzy.
I mean it.

Gar...

Daddy...

Look, son...

To us, Gar?

Come to us? T0 our home?

If you'll have me.

Oh, if we'll have him.

He says if we'll have him.

Well, that's why I'm here.

That's why I'm half shot-up.

My son...

Not yet. Don't touch me yet.

Gar...

Gar...

Gar...

My God. Oh, my God.

My God.

And that's how you were got, right, honey?

Soft and impetuous like a Gallagher.

- Reg rets?
- None.

- Uncertainties?
- None.

- Tiny, little niggling reservations?
- None!

- And her grammar...
- Shut up!

- Oh, boy, wasn't it something?
- Go to hell.

- And her vulgarity...
- Bugger off.

She'd tuck you into your air-conditioned
cot every night and croon...

J' Go to sleep, my little honey child J'

She got you soft, on the account
of the clay it was, didn't she?

Eight of September,
you were invited to the wedding of...

And when she said you looked like
an O'Donnell... cold like.

It is now 16 or 17 years since I saw
the queen of France.

Oh, but when she threw her arms
around you.

Well, well, well.

...then the dauphiness, at Versailles.

- Poor little orphan boy.
- Shut up, shut up.

Mama. Mama!

Madge!

Madge!

Madge?

You don't want to go, laddybuck.
Admit it. You don't want to go.

I can't find my coat.

If you could only manage to leave things
where you find them,

you wouldn't be such a bad, old nuisance.

Don't you dare come home here drunk.

I'm going to say good-bye to the boys
over a quiet drink or two.

Ancl how I spend my nights
is a matter entirely for myself.

The boys...

couldn't even come here
to say good-bye on your last night.

Straight to the bone.

You mind your business, I'll mind mine.

How many of them
are getting the pension now?

And in case you're in bed when I get back,
I want a call at half 6:00.

Oh, the clock will be set,

if you hear it well and good.

You sit there, night after night,
year after year,

doing them old books
as if the world depended on them,

and not so much as a word out of you.

- Eh?
- I mean it.

It just drives me mad the sight of you.

And I have that much work to do.

And... Ancl I'd be that busy
for the next couple of weeks

that I won't have time to lift my head.

Ah, Kate.

Mrs. King, it's good to see you.

Is Gar in, Madge?

N0, he's not then.
You just missed him by a few minutes.

He's just gone down t0 the pub
to have a drink with the boys.

It doesn't matter. It's not important.

I could run down and tell him.

He wouldn't want to miss you, Kate.

No. No, I'll, um...

Thanks, Madge. Good night.

There's only one way to put the fear
of God in them bastards every time.

You know where.

Who's the ref, Ned?

Ah, Jimmy Tobin from Bunmornan.

That, or the knee.

It's the only game them gets can play,
and we can play it too.

I know, Ned. They've a hell
of a forward line all the same.

They'll be in crutches this clay week.

Christ, I can hardly wait to get the studs
planted in wee Bagser D0ran's face.

Well, lads,
when you're lining out on the pitch,

I'll be thinking of you.

Lucky bloody man, Gar.

God, I wish I was in your shoes.

Uh, by the way, lads, who's the blondie
thing I'd seen at last mass on Sunday?

Oh, a big redhead.

Are you bloody well deaf?

A blondie!

But there was two of them
sitting over by the confession box.

Look, I seen one.

They're English, stopping up at the hotel.

Ah, but the big red thing,
she's one of Neil McFadden's girls.

Annie? Is Annie home?

Aye, she is. So I heard the mammy said.

Bloody great!

That's me fixed up for the next two weeks.

Were any of youse ever on that job?

N0, I wasn't, Ned.

For Christ's sake,
she wouldn't spit on you.

Ah, ripe for everything, Big Annie,
but you need the constitution of a horse.

I had her for a fortnight
when she was home last year,

and she damn near killed me.

Big Annie from up beyond the quarry?

Aye. You know, Gar,
the one with the squint.

Annie McFadden has no squint.

Away and take a running race
at yourself, man.

What do you mean?

You were never out with
Big Annie McFadden in your life, man.

Are you calling me a liar?

What's the point?

Oh, by God, Gar, Ned was there.

Many's and many's the time.
Weren't you, Ned?

Have it your own way, Ned.

Aye. S0, maybe she got the squint
straightened out since I seen her last.

All the women nowadays
get the squints straightened out.

Damn it, you could walk
from here to Cork nowadays,

and you wouldn't see
a woman with a squint...

Ijust don't like fellas getting snottery
with me, that's all.

Bit of life about the place
next week, lads.

The carnival! Too bad you'll miss it, Gar.

Oh, there was a holy fright last year,
night after night, remember?

Bloody cows, a whole bloody lot of them.

D0 you mind the night
we had the two wee Glasgow pieces?

Oh, stop, stop.

Talk about hot things!

Liveliest wee tramps I ever laid.
I was never the same since.

You know, whatever it is about him,
if there's a fast woman in the country,

she'll head for Ned first thing.

Lucky bugger.

I'm off tomorrow, boys.

So, so...

Boston?

Philadelphia.

D0 you know what I'm thinking?
We'd better see about transport.

Damn it, you're right.

Now, I can get the 0l' fella's van
easy enough.

Can you get your Charlie's lorry?

Just maybe.

I'd better try him tonight.

How about a song for Gar, boys?

Before we all break up.

- What time is it?
- It's early in the night yet.

Twenty past 9:00.

We'd better go then.

Charlie was talking about
going to a dance in Ardmore.

- Hey!
- Damn it, that's an idea.

We'll all go. A big last night for Gar.

Ardmore? Are you mad?

Bloody women in that place
don't know what they're for.

True for you. Scream their heads off
if you laid a hand on them.

But I'll tell you what we'll do.

Call in home first to see Charlie

and then go on to the hotel
for a dirty big booze-up.

No, I don't like drinking in that place.

Them two English bits...
What's their names?

Them strangers?
Ah, you wouldn't have a chance there.

They do nothing but walk
and look at weeds and stuff.

Who wouldn't have a chance?

Well, I know, Ned,
but they're sort of stiff-like.

Liked they worked in a post office
or something.

They're women, aren't they?

Damn it, maybe we might.

Still, I don't know. They knit a lot.

- What do you think?
- I vote we stay here.

You can count me out.
I have an early start.

Ten pounds to a shilling,
I click with one or other of them.

I won't be here to collect my winnings.

Come on. Come on, any takers?

Never clapped eyes on before,
and I'm offering ten notes to a bob.

Cripes, I know that look in his eyes.

Wise bloody men.

The blo0d's up, lads.

Any volunteers for a big booze-up
and a couple of women?

Did he say women?

Sign me on.

I-I don't think I'm in form tonight, boys.

We'll show them a weed or two, eh?

Out to the sand banks.
Get them in the bloody bent.

We.
Re away.

Wait.

How much money have you?

Two, nine, three and three.

Three and nine.

And I have six and two.

But it'll have to do.

Say a prayer they're fast and thrifty.

Dirty old brute. Lead on, bull!

I'm telling you, lads, the blood's up!

Are youse coming, lads?

Well, are you coming, lads?

I have to be up at half 6:00.

S0 long, Gar.

If you can't be good, be careful.

Aye. Send us a pack of them playing cards.

You know the ones
with the dirty pictures on the back.

And if the women are
as easy as the money out there,

we might think ofjoining you.

Right, old cock?

Bull on regardless. Yee-hoo!

By the way, Gar,

since I'll not be seeing you again
before you go, I, uh...

Hey, what are you doing? At least wait
until you're sure of the women.

Oh, shut up!

If any of them Yankee scuts try to
beat you up some dark night, you can...

Well, you know,
there's a bloody big buckle on it.

Many's a get I scutched with it.

It's all right, lads.

He has his braces on as well.

I meant to buy you something good,

but the old fella didn't sell
the calf to the jobbers last Friday.

He could have, the stupid bastard.

Such a bloody stupid bastard
of an old fella.

Thanks, Ned.

Thanks.

Damn it, I have nothing for you, Gar.

Look, are we for the sand banks,
or are we not?

You'll make out all right over there.

Have a...

Cripes, I know that look in his eyes.

Christ,
if there's one get I hate, it's you!

The blood's up.

By God, when he goes on like that,
the blood's up, all right.

Ned! Ned, wait for me!

What the hell are you waiting for?

Damn it, man, it's your last night
and all, and I thought maybe we could...

Wait to hell and run after them.

Sure, you know yourself, they'll only hang
around the gable of the hotel

and chat and do nothing.

For God's sake, man, those English women
will be swept off their feet.

Oh, you're taking a hand at me now.

I'm telling you, you're missing
the opportunity of a lifetime.

Oh, maybe, huh? What do you think?

Go on, go on.

My God, maybe you're right.

God, you'll never what will happen, huh?

Or maybe we'll click tonight.

Say a wee prayer we do.

Cripes, my blood is up too.

Send us a card sometimes, Gar.

Surely, Joe.

A lucky bloody man.

God, I wish I was in your shoes.

There's nothing stopping you, is there?

Only that Mammy planted
sycamore trees last year,

and she says I can't leave till
they're tall enough to shelter the house.

Oh, you're stuck
for a couple of clays, so...

Away off with you, man.

Well, so long, old cock.

They're louts. Ignorant bloody louts.

And you've always known it.

Ancl don't pretend you're surprise,
because you're not.

You know what they'll do tonight,
don't you?

They'll shuffle around
the gable end of the hotel,

and take an odd furtive peep
into the lounge at the English women,

who won't even look up at them
from their frigid knitting.

Many a night you did it yourself, bucko.

But for Aunt Lizzy and the grace of God,
you'd be there tonight too,

watching the lights
go out over the village...

and hearing the front doors being bolted,

seeing their blinds being drawn,

stamping your feet
to keep the numbness from spreading.

Not wanting to go home yet,
not for another while.

Wanting to hold onto the night,

but nothing else can happen now.

Nothing at all.

And no one will ever know
or understand the fun there was.

For there was fun and there was laughing.

Foolish, silly fun
and foolish, silly laughing.

But what it was all about
you can't remember now, can you?

Just a memory of it.
That's all you have now.

Hello, Gar.

Francis, you remember Gareth O'Donnell,
don't you?

I do, indeed.

How are things with you, Gareth?

Oh, good, thanks.

How are you, Dr. King?

King of the bloody fairies.

No complaints.

You wouldn't think of calling to say
good-bye to your friends, I suppose.

Oh, I was going to, but, uh...

Be careful.

I just went clean out of my mind.
You know how it is, going away.

I understand, Gar.

He's her husband, you bugger!

- Philadelphia?
- Yes.

To an aunt, isn't it?

That's right. To a sister of Mother's.

I hear you're going to work in a hotel.

You know as much about it as I do.

You know how it is.
Baile Beag, it's a small town.

I'll probably go to
a night's school as well, you know.

At night.

Brilliant!

Do law or medicine or something.

Oh, you'll do well, Gar.

You'll probably make a whole lot of money
and come back in about 20 years time

and buy up the whole town.

Very likely. That's my plan anyhow.

Kate. Kathy.

- How's your mother and father?
- Oh, they're fine.

- And Mr. O'Donnell?
- Grand.

I'll come back
when I made my first million.

Driving a Cadillac, smoking cigars,
and taking movie films.

Oh, I hope
you'll be very happy there, Gar.

That life will be good to you.

I'll make sure that life's good to me
from now on.

Your father will miss you.

That's his look out.

Do you know something?

Ifl had to hang around Ballybeg for
another week, I'd go off my bloody head.

This place would make anybody crazy.

Have a look around you, for God's sake.
Look at Master Boyle, look at my father.

Look at the boys!

Asylum cases, every bloody one of them.

Shh!

I've been stuck in this hole
far too long, I'm telling you.

It's a bloody quagmire.
A backwater, a dead end.

Shh!

There's not a thing about Ballybeg
that I don't know already.

I hate the place, and every stone,
and every rock,

and every piece of heather around it.

And the sooner that plane whips me
away out of it, the better I like it.

It isn't as bad as all that, Gar.

Well, you're stuck here.
What else can you say?

Listen,
that's not a very nice thing to say.

And you'll die here.
I'm not stuck, I'm free.

Free as the bloody wind.

- All I meant to say was--
- Answerable to no one!

Ancl all that bloody yap
about father ancl son,

and all that silly sentimental rubbish
about homeland ancl birthplace,

it's all yap, bloody yap.

Ancl t0 hell with Ballybeg,
that's what I say!

Oh, man.

Kate, we better be going. Your parents
will be wondering what's keeping us.

Tell them I was asking for them.

Good-bye, Gar.

Enjoy yourself, Kate.

If you can't be good...

you know.

Good-bye.

My God, steady, man. Steady.

It is now 16 or 17 years since I saw
the queen of France,

then the dauphiness, at Versailles.

Ancl surely never lighted on this orb.
Oh, my God.

J' As beautiful Kitty, one morning
Was tripping with a pitcher of milk J'

Well, go on and tell them. Now.

Right away.

Mammy and Daddy.

They'll be at home.

Ancl remember, Gar, it's up to you.

Entirely up to you.

Good-bye, Gar.

It's just isn't as bad all that.

Good-bye, Gar.

It isn't as bad as all that.

Good-bye, Gar.

It isn't as bad as all that.

Screwballs, say something.

Say something, Father.

Holy Mary, mother of God,

pray for us sinners,
now and at the hour of our death, Amen.

This time tomorrow night, bucko,

you'll be saying the rosary
with Uncle Con and Auntie Lizzy.

Holy Mary, mother of God.

Pray for us sinners,
now ancl at the hour...

...our death, Amen.

When Screwballs is curled up,
fast asleep in his wee cot,

you'll be swaggering down 56th and Third,

at the junction of 29th and Seventh
on 81st,

with this big blonde nuzzling up to you.

Holy Mary, mother of God,

pray for us sinners,
now and at the hour of our death, Amen.

Glory be to the Father and to the Son,
of the Holy Ghost.

As it was in the beginning,
is now and ever shall be

a world without end, Amen.

The nativity.

Tamara. That's her name.

The granddaughter of
an exiled Russian prince.

And tonight, you'll invite her up
t0 dinner in your penthouse.

You'll be dressed in
a deep blue velvet jacket.

She'll incline her head toward you,
close her eyes and whisper...

Your decade.

Our Father, who art in heaven,
hallowed be thy name.

Thy kingdom come, thy will be clone,
on Earth as it is in heaven.

Give us this clay our daily bread,
and forgive us our trespasses,

as we forgive those
who trespass against us,

and lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil, Amen.

Screwballs, do you dream?

Do you ever dream of the past, Screwballs?

Of that wintry morning in Bailtefree,
when you married her?

The three clays honeymoon in Bundoran?

God, maybe behind those dead eyes
and that flat face,

are the memories of precious moments
in the past.

My God, have I been unfair to you?

Is it possible that you've stored it up
in the back of that mind of yours?

Do you remember?

It was a clay, 0h, 15 years ago.

I don't remember every detail,
but some things are as vivid as can be.

The boat was blue.

Ancl the paint was peeling.

Ancl there was an empty cigarette packet
floating on the water.

You had given me your hat,

put your coat around my shoulders
because there had been a shower of rain.

You had the rod in your... left hand.

I can see the cork nibbled away
from the butt of the rod.

Ancl maybe we'd been chatting.

I don't remember.

It doesn't matter.

But between us at that moment...

there was this great happiness...

this great joy.

You must have felt it too.

Although nothing was being said...

just the two of us fishing
on a showery clay.

Ancl young as I was...

I felt...

I knew that this was precious.

Ancl your hat was
soft on the top of my ears.

Ancl I shrank down into your coat.

And then, for no reason at all...

J' Al/ around my hat
I wear a green colored ribbono J'

J' All around my hat
For a 12-month and a day J'

J' And if anybody asks me
The reason why I wear it J'

J' It's all for my true love J'

J“ Who's far, far away J'

Will you have your supper now?

Any time suits you.

And how about St. Martin de Porres?

_Huh?
_Supper.

Oh, yes. Yes, please, Madge.

You suppose even the saints
must eat now and again.

What time do you make it?

Twenty past 10:00.

It's that anyhow.

Go on, ask him.

He must remember.

The days are shortening already.

Before we know, we'll be burning light
before closing time.

Go on, go on.

Whatever happened to that old boat
that used to be up on Lough na Cloc Cor?

A boat, eh?

Good evening, Canon.

Ah, the Canon.

Bugger the Canon.

You're a terrible woman, Madge.

- Welcome, Canon.
- That Madge.

Right, Canon.

She says I wait till the rosary's over,
and the kettle's on.

She's a sharp one, Madge.

"You wait," says she,
"till the r0sary's over,

and the kettle's on."

Hee-hee-hee-hee-hee.

Pay no heed to Madge, Canon.

"And how's the O'Donnell family tonight?"

And how's the O'Donnell family tonight?

Living away as usual.

Not a thing happening.

Liar.

Just so now. Just so.

Will we have a game now,
or will we wait till the supper comes in?

We may as well commence, Sean.

Whatever you say, Canon.

"You wait till the rosary's over,"
says she.

"She's a sharp one, Madge."

She's a sharp one, Madge.

It'll be getting near your time, Gareth.

Tomorrow morning, Canon.

Just so now.

Tomorrow morning.

Here we are.

Powerful the way time passes too.

Black or white, Canon?

Black or white?

"Black for the crows
and white for the swans."

Black for the crows
and white for the swans.

Have a shot at the black.

Maybe I will then.

"Can't take the money off you
every night."

Can't take the trousers off you
every night.

Canon O'Byrne!

Usual stakes, Canon?

I see no reason to alter them, Sean.

S0, youse are at it already?

Shh...

If they were playing for turkeys
they couldn't be more serious.

Quiet.

Ahh, wouldn't you want to
throw this all around?

Scalding hot.

And raise blisters on his old bald pate,
God forgive me.

- Hey, Madge.
- What?

Why don't you take a run over
and see the new baby?

And this the last night we'll have you
to torment us?

Go on. We can't start swopping the filthy
stories till you're out of the way.

Ancl none of that talk now.

It's your own namesake, isn't it?

Shh!

So she says.

Go on, go on.
You'll be back before bedtime.

Maybe I will.

Now remember,
them shirts hasn't properly aired.

- Madge.
- What is it?

Don't! Don't!

Why did my mother marry him
instead of Master Boyle?

- What?
- She went with both of them, didn't she?

- She married the better man, by far.
- She went with Boyle first, didn't she?

I told you before,
she went with a dozen of them.

They were all crazy after her.

Is that what started Boyle drinking?

If it was, more fool he.

And anymore nosing about
you want to do, ask the boss.

Because you're not going to pump me.

What the hell did you have to go
and ask that for?

Snap, boy, snap.

You want no scenes tonight.

And clear out of this
or you're liable to get overexcited

watching those two daredevils
dicing with death.

Into your survivor shelter
and brood, brood.

Forgive me, Canon,
my Chinese mistress is waiting.

Mendelssohn, Mendelssohn, Mendelssohn.

Give us a bar or two,
Mendelssohn, old fella. Come on, lad.

Resin the old bowl, spit on your hands,
give us an old bar.

What's that noise?

What's that, Canon?

That noise of some sort.

Is there?

I don't hear.

It's music, is it?

Music?

Aye. It's music.

That'll be Gar then.

Oh?

Playing them records of his.

Thought I heard something.

All he asks, is sit up there
and play them records all clay.

It makes him happy.

Terrible man for the records.

Do you know what the music's saying?

It's saying, "Once upon a time,

a boy and his father sat one afternoon
in a blue boat on a lake."

And on that afternoon
a great beauty happened.

A beauty that has
haunted the boy ever since.

Because he wonders now,
did it really happen?

Or did he imagine it?

"There's just the two of us,"
the music says.

Each of us is all the other has.

Why can't we even look at each other?

"Have pity on us," the music says.

Have pity on every goddamn man of us...

and to hell with all strong silent men.

It'll be getting near his time,
he tells me.

Tomorrow morning.

Powerful the way time passes too.

Ah, there's hope for you yet.

I don't know, is there?

N0, you're not too late, yet.

Maybe.

No, I wouldn't say die yet.

Not yet, I wouldn't.

You won't sleep again tonight, laddo.

Buggen

This is the last time
you'll lie on this bed.

Last time you'll look at that pattern.

Last time you'll listen
to the silence of Ballybeg.

- The last time you'll--
- Ah, shut up.

Go down to the shop, man,
and get yourself a packet of aspirin.

That'll do the trick.

Hey! Screwballs.

Mind if I take a packet of aspirin?

Send the bill to the USA, okay?

Go on, boy.
Get yourself a clatter of pills.

My God, Lady Godiva.

Is this where you are?

Aye.

I... I wasn't sleeping.

What has you up?

I wasn't sleeping either.

I'll get some aspirins inside.

Hard to sleep sometimes, is you?

Sometimes.

There's tea in the pot.

- Aye?
- If it's a headache you have.

Now is your time.

The early hours of the morning.

Put your head on his shoulder and say,

"How's my darling daddy?"

You take some?

Sure you know, I never take a second cup.

Playing hard to get.

Come on, bucko.

It's your place to make the first move,
the younger man.

Say... Say...

"Screwballs,
what a magnificent figure like that.

How is it you were never in showbiz?"

Say, "It is now 16 or 17..."

Say, "Oh, my God."

55V... Say something!

You'll need a new tire for the van.

Oh, what one's that?

The back left-hand one.
I told you. It's clone.

Aye. So you did.

- And, uh...
- What else?

Don't forget the fencing posts
from McGuire on Wednesday.

Fencing posts?

Twelve dozen. The milk lorry'll take them.
I spoke with Packey.

Ave. Right.

You're doing grand. Keep at it.

It's the silence that's the enemy.

You'll want to order more plug tobacco.
The traveler'll be here this week.

Aye. I'll... I'll see about that.

You'll want to put a new clasp
on that lower window.

The tinkers are around again.

Aye?

Some of them were here at dinner time.

I took some cans off them.

Ijust thought I noticed something shining
from the ceiling.

That will be the cans then.

Aye.

I got six of them.

They'll not go to loss.

They wanted me to take a dozen,
but I said six would do us.

Six is plenty. They don't go as quick
as they used to, them cans.

That's why I wouldn't take the dozen.

You were right too.

Although, I remember a time when
I got through a couple of dozen a week.

Yeah?

All cans it was then.

Maybe you'd sell a kettle at turf-cutting,
of if there'd be a Yank coming home...

Better get them pills
and try t0 get a few hours of sleep.

You're getting the mail-van
in the morning?

Quarter past 7:00.

I was listening to
the weather forecast there.

Moderate westerly winds
and occasional showers it said.

Yeah?

I was thinking it would be
a fair enough clay for going up on a plane.

It should be so.

I was meaning to tell you
that you should sit at the back.

It is now 16 or 17 years.

The longest way round
is the shortest way home.

You know, if there was
an accident or anything,

it's the front gets it hardest.

I suppose that's true enough.

Not that I'd know.

But that's what they say.

Now. Now!

He might remember. He might.

What if he does, laddo?

My God, what if he does?

You know what kept coming
into my head all clay?

Aye?

The fishing we used to do
up in Lough na Cloc Cor.

Oh? Lough na Cloc Cor?

Aye.

We had a throw on it every Sunday
during the season.

That's not the clay nor yesterday.

There's a blue boat on it.
Do you remember it?

Many's the fish we took off
that same lake.

Remember the blue boat?

A blue one, eh?

I don't know who owned it,
but it was blue,

and the paint was peeling.

I remember a brown one
the doctor brought from somewhere up...

It doesn't matter who owned it.

It doesn't even matter
that it was blue.

Do you remember one afternoon
we were up there, the two of us?

And it must have rained because
you put your jacket around my shoulders

and you gave me your hat.

Aye.

Ancl it wasn't that we were talking
or anything, but suddenly...

suddenly you sang "All Around My Hat
I Wear a Green Colored Ribbono."

Me?

For no reason at all except that we...

that you were happy.

Do you remember it?

N0.

No, then, I don't.

There, there, there.

"All Around My Hat..."
I don't think I ever knew that one.

It wasn't "The Flower of Sweet Strabane"?
That was my song.

It could have been. It doesn't matter.

S0, now you know.

It never really happened.

"All Around My Hat."
That was never one of mine.

Ancl you said the boat was blue?

It doesn't matter, forget it.

Well, there was a brown one
belonging to the doctor,

and before that again,
there was a small flat-bottom,

but that was green, or was it white?

Ah, you wouldn't be thinking of a punt,
and it could've been blue.

One of the curate had down at the pier
last summer.

Fine, sturdy little punt it was too,
and it could very well have been that...

What has you up?

I wasn't sleeping.

And I thought you were in bed.

I was over at Nelly's.

The place was upside down.

There's nothing wrong, is there?

Not a thing.

And the baby is strong and healthy?

Oh, fine, fine.

That's all that matters.

They're going to call her Brigid.

That's a grand name. Brigid.

Madge?

You'll get a cold padding about
in yon rig.

I'll get one of Charley B0nner's boys

to do the van for me
on Tuesdays and Thursdays,

and I'll manage rightly.

It's cold down here. Away up to bed.

It's not like the old days
when the whole countryside did with me.

I needed the help then.

It's different now.

I'll manage by myself, eh?

I'll manage fine, eh?

Oh, fine.

D0 you mind, Madge?

The trouble we had keeping him
at school just after he turned ten?

Nothing would do him
but t0 get behind the counter.

And he had this little sailor's suit
on him this morning.

A sailor suit? He never had a sailor suit.

Oh, he had, Madge.

Oh, Madge, he had.

And I can see him in it.

And he said this morning, says he,

"I'm not going to school today.

I'm going into my daddy's business."

You know, all important.

And do you remember?
You tried to coax him to go to school.

And not a move could you get out of him.

And at the heel of the hunt,
I had to go with him myself.

And off the two of us went,
and he chatting and dancing beside me.

You couldn't get a word in edge-ways
with all the chatting he went through.

Maybe, Madge...

Maybe it's because
I could have been his grandfather?

I don't know.

I was too old for her, Madge, eh?

I don't know.

They're a new race.

A new world.

I don't know either.

You down too?

This place is turning into a night club.

I'm only getting back.

How's the new Madge?

Strong and healthy.

And that's all that matters.

When's the christening?

Next Sunday, after last mass.

Madge Mulhern. Are you proud?

Just tired, son.

Very tired.

Is something wrong, Madge?

If there was, wouldn't I tell you?

Of course she would. Who else has she?

I'll call you at half past 6:00.

Good night.

Sleep well, Madge.

Sleep well yourself.

Watch her carefully.

Every movement, every gesture...

every little peculiarity.

Keep the camera whirring.

Because this is a film
you'll run over and over again.

Madge,
going to bed on my last night at home.

Madge.

My God, boy, why do you have to go?

Why?

Madge... you'd let me know
if he got sick or anything, huh?

Who else would there be?

Just in case.

Not that it's likely.

He'll outlive the lot of us.

J' I'll walk away J'

J' And never say good-bye J'

J' I'll walk away J'

J' And only sigh J'

J' I'll go away J'

J' And hope as we part J'

J' You'll never know J'

J' What's in my heart J'

J' It's too /ate for regret J'

J' I must try to forget you J'

J' The time now has come at last J'

J' For me to go J'

J' In those long years ahead J'

J' I may sometime feel sorrow J'

J' But I'll hide it in myself J'

J' And you won't know J'

J' I'll turn away J'

J' And never say I care J'

J' I'll fly away J'

J' And leave you there J'