How Do You Want Me? (1998–1999): Season 1, Episode 1 - No-One Can Hear You Scream - full transcript

(Church bell tolling)

We're being happy!

Splendid. Splendid.

Bride and immediate family.

Lips plump and wide! Very lovely!

? And...ready?
? Wait, my mouth's gone funny.

Are you more of a burials man
or a cremations kind of guy?

Apologise.

Or piss off.

Wh... How do you mean?

OK.



What did I do? Hmm?

? Right, do we think that's enough?
? Yes, wasted quite enough time as it is, Webb.

? No, no, it was lovely.
? Well, thanks for doing it.

As an empty, self?defeating ritual, it was right
up there with the Eurovision Song Contest.

? Sycamore.
? We've already got photos of our wedding.

My parents don't think two grainy Polaroids of
us outside a registry office in Bucharest count.

Budapest. Budapest.

I'll do the same to them.
You didn't invite me to Wookey Hole.

Restage it so I can get some snaps.

I warned you how they'd react.

? Elm?
? I'm not doing trees today.

? Well, what's that one?
? Pussy willow.

Cedar. You just had to say pussy, didn't you?

Your dad still expects me to apologise.



He just wants you to be nice to him.
Why won't you be?

? Because I've got principles.
? No, you haven't! See you later.

It's our wedding day.
I'm supposed to carry you.

Leave me alone! I'm a virgin.

(Aggressive shouting)

I wasn't even near him! You are so dead!

''Bus shelter too small and dark, claims pastor.''

Now that really gets the adrenaline going.

It's a bit of a relief after a year of headlines
in the South London Gazette.

''Shopper murdered
for not handing over sausages.''

You know how irritating it is when somebody
won't hand over their sausages.

? There's a job here picking mushrooms.
? Is there now?

Just over a fortnight ago, I left one of
the biggest, most successful comedy club...

uite big...little...but successful comedy club
I ran in London. I gave it all up for you.

I come down here,
and now you expect me to pick mushrooms.

Sure you don't want to get more scorn
into the words ''pick mushrooms''?

Pick mushrooms! You expect me
to pick mushrooms like a mushroom picker.

Oh, look! ''Scouts clear path of bindweed.''

I thought you weren't gonna make fun
of our rural ways.

This stuff terrifies me. You're the only thing
I understand around here.

I know that,
and that's why you need a new career.

I forgot to tell you,
I've applied for the job as village whore.

It's three grand a year,

and five if I agree to wear a Barbour
and smoke a pipe while I'm doing it.

(Outside ) Hello!

My brother.

? Did you lock the door?
? No.

? Anybody home?
? (Whispering) Don't say anything.

? Oh, they must be out.
? (Footsteps on stairs )

? What's all this? Nudity and shagging?
? Don't think about it.

Oh, Ian, mate, you've got feet like a hen.

Hello. Grrrrr!

Hello, sis.

Ian... Ian... E... E...

We've got to go to the White Hart.
We've got to get to know each other,

and take the oath of family kinship.

? Come on.
? (Squeaking)

It's a great bed, sis.

Dogs breeding again. Dogs.

Here, John, do your camel impression.

(Strangled groaning)

? There's men in our bed.
? I know.

There's men in our bed.

? As long as you don't...
? No, don't!

? Ian.
? Oh, hello. Hi.

How are you? Hi. How are you guys?

Hello.

Could I have...a pint of your
most amusingly named local bitter, please?

(Thuggish laughter)

? Hello, mate. Are you all right?
? Hiya, Dean. How are you doing?

Hey there.

Ow! Cock!

I do that every time on that damned door!

Why don't you work on your dad's farm?

On the farm? You're joking, aren't you?

There's poo everywhere.

? Oi, oi, oi, oi, Ian, Ian, Ian.
? What?

Here, right, right?

? What's this?
? I don't know.

Irish spot the ball competition.

(Laughing)

So you've never thought of leaving the village?

Ian, Ian, Ian, E!

? E.
? What?

Most people get a job in Brighton,
Stow?on?the?Wold or something.

No, no, no, no, no.

You don't understand.

You see...our family...

and the village...are one.

Nobody leaves.

? Lisa did. Lisa left.
? Yeah, yeah, she did. Yeah.

But she's back now, in't she?

Yeah. (Exhales deeply)

So, look... You met Lisa, erm...

? What?
? What? What what?

? How? How?
? How what?

It was funny, actually, you know.

Cos she always used to take
these school bus parties to the zoo.

? And she was going by one day...
? Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up!

E, we're here. Look.

Oh! That's a nice family, isn't it?

(Burping)

Dean! Dean!

? What?
? Dean, Dean, Dean. Is it not a bit late?

No. No. We all stay up late in the country, mate.

I thought you got up early.

Oh, yeah, yeah. Yeah, that's it.

(Buzzer)

This frame's a bit warped. Look.

(Ian laughs )

He should sand it down and fill it
before the moisture gets to it.

? Yeah. I was just thinking that.
? I'll give him a quote in the morning.

You want to do that before I get in there.
The grouting, it's 90 quid, and all that stuff.

And sanding...

What? Is that really funny, is it?

? Is that really funny, me being a builder?
? No.

No, is it really? Is it really funny,
me being a builder?

? Is that funny?
? No.

Yes? Can I help?

Hello. Good evening. I'd like to make an...

an offer for your...you know.

? He'd like to buy your photography place.
? Can I buy your photography place?

Why, just the fellow. Come in, come in.

(Lisa ) Bye. Thank you very much.

That's great. Where's my, erm...eye?

Hi.

? Hello.
? What are all these children doing?

? It's a school.
? Oh, a school.

? Look, that's me.
? Mm, very cruel.

? So, are you ready?
? Not yet.

I left your chair
by the Peoples Of The World Tree.

Thank you, Derek.

Derek, Ian. Ian, Derek.

(Clanking)

Can you not kick my car?
Yes, you in the flashy anorak!

Well, he was. He was kicking.

(Ian ) When you think about it, photography's
the medium of the 20th century, isn't it?

Hmm. What about the telephone? TV? Film?

? You like nothing better than a good trample.
? The computer.

Tramp, tramp, tramp, tramp. Yeah, all right.

I could start with the basic stuff,
portraits, weddings.

Then get into the coffee table market,

the Reader's Digest Book
Of Country Fire Stations,

A Pictorial Guide To Little Sweetie Shops
And The Horrible Men In Them,

Moss: A Celebration.

Then the dark social commentary stuff.
Pictures of inbred villagers and all that.

? Oh, I'll give them a call.
? Yeah.

What the hell is this?

? Oh, that takes groups.
? I thought you could just stand back.

? Darling, are we sure this is such a great idea?
? Yeah.

Of course. Photography's like politics
or...cookery.

Anybody can do it if they go about it
with enough arse.

OK, then. Go on, I'm ready.

Oh, yeah? OK, what do you want? Do you want
corn or something a bit more jolly?

? Let's, erm... Let's go with the corn.
? OK.

(Librarian ) This is you, Mrs Hawkins?

You can take six books out on this ticket.

There's a leaflet by the door.
The buff?coloured one next to the aquarobics.

Now, that's a very good one.
Lots of things happening all the way through.

That's a bit racy, apparently.

Racy rather than rude, from all accounts.
Just to warn you. Bye?bye now.

? All on your wife's ticket?
? All right?

We don't stand on ceremony here.

Lovely girl, your Lisa. Solid person.

Solid? Oh, yeah. Highly solid.

? That's quite a family you've married into.
? Tell me about it.

? Tell you about it?
? No, it doesn't matter.

They've got one of the oldest barns in Sussex.

I know. I've been in it.

Oh. Oh, you've been in it.

? No use hiding all those under a novel.
? What?

Sense And Sensibility
and five books about photography.

Thank you.

Come on, you useless pile of marsh.
You get more heat rubbing your hair.

Come on...bastard.

? Don't get too settled.
? Do we have to go?

(Lisa ) It's their anniversary.

I'm not apologising.

You've seen how I am with your parents.
Just be like that with mine.

The difference is, my parents are nice.

They go on bird?feeding expeditions
and think Saddam Hussein has a nice smile.

? What are you looking for?
? Sellotape.

? Pyramid, pyramid.
? Oh, right. Thanks.

I think it was a tactical mistake,
taking those books out of the library.

Why?

The whole village will know
you know bugger?all about photography.

Librarians are like doctors.
Sworn to confidentiality.

Oh, yeah?

? What?
? Hm.

That woman will tell people what books I got?

People are interested in each other here.
You're going to have to get used to that.

You're saying she'll go out
and tell other people what books I got?

Mmm.

I'm actually unable to speak.

Look, I saw you in London. You'd go to six
different newsagents to avoid a conversation.

You'd panic if you had to speak to a neighbour.

What is so bloody great
about minding your own business?

Are you gonna wear that shirt? Hmm.

The whole point is that in...in...in a mature
society, in a city, you choose your friends.

You're not schlumped in a goldfish bowl
with everybody you hate,

and everybody you've ever slept with.

Is it any accident that culture flowered in
the Greek city states rather than goaty hamlets?

Or that 19th century Paris
produced more great art

than all the other cheeseries and one?baguette
towns up and down France? I don't think so.

Pity you live in the country then,
isn't it, darling?

? Do we have to go?
? Yeah, you'll love it.

No, no, no, Ted Worsley never ran the Bell.

It was Brian, Brian Rolls
and then...that little queer chap.

Oh, he was nice. And actually, seriously,
he broke down a lot of barriers.

? The little queer chap who told Warren off?
? Yes, why was that?

He was probably skulking.

Was that the Christmas they found
all the crib animals in a phone box?

Tommy. Tommy Newman.

Tommy Newman!

The hardware shop man!

? We haven't got any in today, but...
? ..we're getting them in on Tuesday!

? What was it like where you grew up, Ian?
? Oh, er... Mmm...mmm...

Oh, well, you know what they say.
In suburbia, no one can hear you scream.

Why would you want to scream?

No, it was a play on the phrase,
''In space, no one can hear you scream''.

But in space, nobody can hear you scream,
can they, cos it's so vast?

? It's a vacuum, isn't it?
? In suburbia the houses are close together.

So the moment you started screaming,
you'd be heard by, what, half a dozen people?

? Ten or eleven?
? Yeah.

I know. I said a foolish thing.

Ah.

In your old job,
you must have heard lots of jokes.

? Sure.
? Come on, let's hear one.

Mmm.

? Come on, tell us one.
? No, Ian doesn't tell jokes.

No, no, he's not a comedian.
He just books the acts.

All right, then, I will. I'll tell you a joke.

This man goes into a pub, OK?
A village pub, like this village.

He gets himself a drink
and sits down in the corner by the fire.

And then this other chap
comes in a few minutes later.

And the barman sees him and beams.

And he says... He says, erm...

The man says, ''That's fine, thanks,''
takes his drink and goes and sits down.

The first guy's watching, thinking, ''My God.''

This other man is leaving the bar
and he bumps into the other guy.

He says, ''Sorry, Cocksucker Mike,
didn't see you there.''

Then another few minutes go by,

and this van pulls up,
one of those Pony Express telegram vans.

And the girl, the woman with the little
bellhop hat and the little shoelets jumps in,

and she says, ''Telegram!
Telegram for Cocksucker Mike. Telegram!''

And he runs over and he says,
''Thanks very much. I'll take that now.''

Our man is obsessed, he can't contain himself.

He goes over and he says, ''I have to ask you,
how did you get such a name?''

And the guy said,
''Well, I grew up in this village, you know.

''I had a wonderful job, a great business.

''I gave money to charity, I repaired
the church roof, sent kids away, my own money.

''Married a beautiful girl.

''Had the respect of the whole parish
and all the outlying parishes, you know.''

''But you suck one cock...''

Ha, ha!

There you go.

I think I'm going to get some air.

Ow! Bastard!

Nettles.

I'm really sorry.

I've been doing my tree homework.
You can test me.

How would you feel if I told a filthy joke
sitting round the table with all your family?

Is it a good filthy joke?

This is serious, Ian.

I tried living in London and it didn't work for me
and it's not working for you here.

It's going OK. It'll get better.

Bringing your horrible townie aggression
to our lovely rural paradise!

I'm really sorry.

It was the wine. I can adapt.
I love you. I'm sorry.

You're gonna be less cross
and you're gonna go to my parents,

prepared to compromise
and show them some respect.

Loads. Do you want some flowers?
Or anything?

(Door slamming)

(Dog barking)

I've brought you some cakes.

To eat.

I don't usually cook.

But with these,
you want to eat them in the kitchen.

You just get marshmallows and Rice Krispies...

Yes, I have the recipe. I'm afraid my husband's
busy, installing the lighting in the turkey shed.

Oh, that's a good thing, isn't it?

They'll be able to see him...and
each other...and their beds and everything.

Yes.

Anyway, I came to say...
I came here to say sorry.

That's why I'm here.
I made these with my own hands.

? They're just a small...token...
? (Phone )

Excuse me.

..token of my...

3454. Oh, hello, Jean.

Can't talk at the moment, darling. No.

Yes, I gave him a rocket, too.

I told him at the planning committee,

I told him at the open forum session,
I told him at the Dwights'. He's been told.

Well, he's not likely to do it again, is he?

Do you think money passed hands?

Well, I wouldn't be surprised.

Well, we've got to keep an eye on him, Jean,
you and me.

The bad news is your parents hate me enough
to cut me out of my own wedding photos.

I'm sorry.

And the good news is that this means
I don't have to apologise.

No. You can do it tomorrow.

My dad's opening the turkey shed.
He's having a few people over.

? You do it for me.
? No.

When you took our wedding vows,

you promised, you swore,
to do loads of things I want you to do.

I think you'll find that the literal translation
of the Hungarian marriage vows

were ''I promise to cherish and nurse you.''

I knew we should have gone to Tregrania.

I hear the wording there is,
''I loyally swear to do everything he wants...

? Oh, yeah?
? ..''and put my hair in a box and...

''be permanently moist,
and have a pot of stew on the go all the time.''

Look, just make peace with my dad. Then
we can really start our life down here properly.

How do you want me, Mr Photographer?

David Belly!

Hmm!

My darkroom.

Lots of different things. That looks just fine.

Emulsion.

Ah!

Are you dry?

(Muffled grunt)

Ow!

Don't be so rough.

OK, opening shop. I'm a photographer.
Yes, I am.

Good afternoon. I'm a photographer.

Hello, weather's quite tepid.

I'm a photographer. I'm a photographer.

? Ian, mate! You all right?
? Yes. Hello, hi.

Yeah, look, bye.

? Wow!
? I made that sign.

? Ian Lyons.
? Come on, Dean, I'll show you.

Yeah. Brilliant, brilliant.

? I've got a... I've got a lion's head.
? Oh, yeah?

Come on, come on. There's the lion's head.

Mate, it's brilliant!

I did all that. That rig was difficult because...

No... (Groaning)

Oi, oi, you're all right. It's OK.

Stay there, OK?

Look, look, look, I had to do it.
You humiliated my mum and my dad.

It's a family thing.

Look, I'll see you down the pub later, yeah?

That frame's still a bit warped.

Now, this is the limit of our expansion.

Besides, planning permission
is such a battle these days, you know.

? (Turkeys squawking)
? (Louder) You submit plans,

and they look at you as though
you've asked permission to shoot the Pope.

It's true. Now, Warren, as you know, works
for the local council. A few weeks ago...

I don't mind turkeys. It's pigs that startle me.

? Mmm.
? Mind you, bacon! Yum yum!

Are you a vegetarian, Derek?

? Mmm, yeah, I am.
? I thought so.

? You occasionally have a mouthful of fish.
? Yeah.

I'm bored.

(Sniffs and sighs )

uite keen on cod.

Ian's over there.

? Haddock.
? Right.

Oh, nice boots. You ready?

? Yeah, yeah.
? Where did you get that bruise?

Bruise shop in the high street.
I'll tell you later, OK?

Now, what don't you get them into? Mum?

? Skimmed milk, abortion, Muslims.
? Mm?hm.

Dad?

Paddy Ashdown,
Ramblers Association, beards.

Great. Go on, then.

? Hiya.
? Hello. Hi, hi, hi.

? Hi.
? So... Photography.

Yeah. Yeah, a new frontier.

Mmm.

It'll keep me off the streets.

Unless I'm photographing the streets.

Could you just excuse me for a...?
I'm going to have to...(Coughs )

? Hello.
? Hello.

? Did I miss the speech?
? Yes, yes, you did.

I'm sure it was a good speech.

Look, I know Lisa is the apple of your eye
and all that,

and I'm sure the way we got married
was irritating.

Yes, yes, it was.

(Squawking)

Eugh! Shite!

(Cacophony of raucous squawking)

Oh, my God!

I'm making an effort here.

? I said, I'm making an effort here.
? A conventional apology will do.

And you can add another apology
for your performance the other evening.

? Why is all this so important?
? You live in our village. By our village rules.

You do realise that's a clich??

?You're actually a clich?!
? If you want to be the angry young man, fine.

All right, hello! I'm the angry old man!
Do you know anything about families?

? That's all beside the point.
? Show a bit of respect and maybe we'll get by.

You treat me as if I was one of those birds.
You don't meet me halfway on anything.

? I married Lisa, anyway, not her family tree.
? Really?

Yes, really. It's not like I went into a pet shop
and said, ''I want this gorgeous creature,''

and the guy says, ''You have to take
the scaly old raccoon and the mangy jackal,

? ''and those two disgusting hamsters.''
? (Shouts )

How can I respect anybody who keeps
so many turkeys in an anti?turkey environment,

and tells them lies
about seeing in the New Year?

It's very dark now.

OK, you've made your point.

I'm sorry.

Oh, no.

Everybody hates me.

Everybody.

(Turkeys squawking and squeaking)

(Falling) Argh!

(Derek) No, no. A few things.

Trout, just occasionally.

Well, that seemed to go all right.

Get him off the premises.

# They can paint the blackest picture of you

# They can hate everything that you do

# They can crush you under heel

# But nothing will change the way I feel

# Love's the only thing that's real

# Nothing will change the way I feel

# Love's the only thing that's real #