Rake (2010–2018): Season 3, Episode 2 - Episode #3.2 - full transcript

For the love of Judith Christ, mate.

Do we have to have this
conversation again?

Hartford, Styles and Menzies?

That's not a fucking appeal,
but that's an inquisition.

A lot of people in your situation
can find the loss of an appeal

more devastating than
the initial conviction.

Not with my parole hearing coming up.

The Parole Board does love
a little bit of repentance.

Good thing I wrote that
in the guidelines, eh?

Arrgh! Fuck. Oh...

I want to sing, Cleave.
That's what I want to do.



You're thick with the...
the Chief, aren't you?

Yes, but maybe not so much now.

Live the dream. Live
the dream, my friend.

There may be a way around this.

- What is it?
- Bearbung, Cleaver.

- Bearbung.
- Talk to me, Kieran.

Good luck with the appeal, Cleaver.

- See you on the outside, fellas.
- Give 'em hell, Cleave.

Kick him in the nuts for me, mate.

Thanks, fellas.

I almost miss him.

Always good for a laugh.

No, not even in jest. The man
is a coke-addled sexual deviant.

It was you who caught him humping
Beck Nissel in the loo, wasn't it?



No, Mandy, the sister.
Beck was later, in the lift.

Prison is where the man belongs.

Oh, heavens, we all agree about that.

Oh, God, yes. The only place for him.

Hi.

No grandstanding in there.

Just look humble. Don't be a smart-arse.

I'm... I am St Francis of Assisi.

I am a father unto my flock.

Just ordinary, decent.

I'll channel Harry 'Sorry' David.

You know what? I don't need
this. I am frantically busy.

If you want to defend
yourself, here are my notes.

Best thing that's going to happen
today is maybe we get a retrial.

- There's certainly grounds...
- Hey, Red. What's wrong?

OK, I'm sorry. OK. I'm sorry.
Please. Come on, please.

I cannot spend any more time

in this fucking shithole
waiting for a retrial.

Well, what are you expecting today?

My old life. I want it back.

I want everything.

I want the bar, I want the bars.

I want Barney.

I want Sundays with Wendy and
Fuzz. I want my fucking life back.

Given the bench, I
wouldn't hope for too much.

- Mention Bearbung.
- Bearbung?

I'm not citing a case
I know nothing about.

Just say it.

All rise.

In all, there were, in
Judge Walter's summations,

some eight clear breaches of law
in his instruction to the jury.

Bored, Miss Engels. You have
made this point three times.

And each time, it failed to land.
Move on.

On six occasions, there was a failure...

By the appellant's counsel

to present anything
interesting to this court.

...to allow admissible evidence.

It's difficult to look at
the transcript of this trial

and not query whether there was some
sort of set against the appellant.

Miss Engels, if you are
imputing any bias by this bench,

you may find yourself
joining the appellant.

No, Your Honour.

But the appellant was a
prominent Sydney barrister

who has now languished
in prison for 11 months

when any single one
of these 13 instances

create clear grounds for a mistrial.

Rubbish.

Rubbish, rubbish, rubbish.

Could I add, rubbish?

Bearbung. Bearbung.

Bearbung.

Can you instruct your
client to stop that?

- Has the man Tourette's or something?
- Bearbung.

Excuse me, Your Honour.
A slight case thereof.

Under stress, I cough and
say the word 'Bearbung.'

I have no... Bearbung.

I have no idea why, just
a thing since childhood.

- Excuse me.
- Bearbung.

- I think I've had quite enough.
- Quite agree.

Ah, yes.

But before we completely dismiss this,

I think I did see something of
merit in one of Miss Engel's points.

Fuck!

What just happened in there?
Fucking Kieran Webster.

He must have told Greene. Told him what?

I believe it has something to
do with Eddie's retirement plans.

What the hell happened in
there? Who or what is Bearbung?

Well, 'bearbung' is an Aboriginal word

meaning 'an illegally obtained
lease between an appellant judge

and a mining company.'
It's a beautiful word.

- Are you happy with today's result?
- Innocent, boys and girls.

Completely innocent.

Three judges with one voice
declared what happened to me

an egregious miscarriage of justice.

One of them seemed very close to tears.

Will you be seeking compensation?

Look, that's all for the future.

I just want to spend some quality time

with my family and loved
ones, my friends.

Thank you. That'll be all.

I do have family and friends, don't I?

You and me!

Mates on the inside,
then mates on the out!

Who would have thought it?

Yes. How are you, mate?
Thanks for coming.

I wouldn't have missed it for nothing.

You should go and be with your family.

- Give me a call when you can, hey?
- Alright, mate. Thank you for that.

How are you, are you alright?

Yeah, I'm good. It's just...

No, I'm good. I love you, mate.

Great, great.

- I love you, mate.
- Thanks for coming, Mal.

Look after yourself, yeah?

Oi!

Isn't there some sort
of celebratory something?

Where's Barnyard?

Quite a bit has happened
since you went inside.

Oh, yeah?

Barney...

Barney has cancer.

What do you mean?

What sort of cancer?

Bad cancer?

Fuck.

Red...

Red?

Fuck! Why didn't somebody tell me?

He must be a mess.

Looking marvellous, everybody.

And turn.

Fantastic, Barney. One more.

Barnyard.

Hey.

You've put on some weight.
Prison must suit you, mate.

Forget about me. You!

Scarlet told me... cancer.

- Fuck, mate!
- Yeah, of the cods.

- Barney!
- One of them, anyway.

- I don't know what to say.
- You know what, mate?

It's the greatest thing
that has ever happened to me.

Every day is a blessing. I
breathe in life, exhale joy.

I can't get enough of my kids.

Jilly, tell me you've got one of
those fantastic cream doughnuts.

I saved one especially for you.

- You have to try one of these.
- Right.

So, what did the doctors say?

Ah, 50/50. I've got some
secondaries in the old lymphs.

Actually, I'm already a
50. They've taken one off.

OK, now, slowly.

Feel the way the cream
oozes into the mouth.

Don't rush it.

Savour!

Hm?

What's that? That's it,
my cancerous testicle.

Oh, Barn!

Hard to believe all life starts here.

- Oh, mate!
- Children come from this.

They don't come from a bloody key ring.

It's just an organ! We
eat stuff like this.

Nobody wants to look at a ball in aspic.

I've been in prison for
11 months without a woman.

In a single moment, you've
put me off sex for another 11.

Come on. Jesus.

So, come on... what stage
of the treatment are you at?

One more hit of chemo to go.

I'm thinking I may not go
back to work, mate, ever.

Ever?

Well, sure. You know,
whatever you think.

You more than anyone I know need
mental stimulation, don't you?

It would be a shame if you pulled
yourself through all of this

and then there was nothing there.

Terrible.

But take your time.

Whatever you need. I'm
fine. I'll be alright.

So don't worry about that.

I'm, you know, I'm right
back in the game.

- You sure the game still wants you?
- They found me innocent.

- Acquitted or innocent?
- Yes, yes.

So, are you up for a walk?

I cycle everywhere now...

fitness and freedom in the
one light-alloy machine.

- You can't be serious?
- Never give in to it.

- Oh, Barn.
- The trick is, embrace the beast.

Trick. It's also a trick to
piss-spell your name in snow.

You just end up with
yellow slime on your boots.

Trust me... I'm good, Cleave.

It was great to see you.

I'll call you tomorrow.

Barn!

Thank you.

You heard the news, I suppose?

Cal McGregor's out and Cleaver
Greene just got acquitted.

I heard. Two arseholes released to
make way for most of my front bench.

The big positive about
Les getting jailed

is that it weakens the
Right's grip on the party.

So, if we woo Bryce, we've
got the centre alliance

and we own Sussex Street.

How can there still be
factions? There are 12 of us.

There are still 12 of
us, aren't there, Clayton?

Geoff and Alsop are giving their
statements now to the Commission.

Both gave me their word
they're not involved.

Both made public
statements to that effect.

- So all good?
- Alsop should be fine.

And Geoff?

Jesus! Is there anyone in this
party not involved in graft?

- That's not rhetorical, by the way.
- You're holding the reins, mate.

You've got a 21% approval rating,

which is not bad, given
the state of the party.

I wonder how that 21%
decided they like me.

I haven't done anything yet.

Plus, the whole gay
question's gone away.

They think I'm gay because
I support same-sex marriage?

Well, you're not married. Well-groomed.

Nice bloke.

And that celebrity
prostitute you were engaged to

described you as 'honourable'
and 'decent', all code words.

What are you doing here?

- I live here.
- No, you live in prison.

Oh, sorry.

Oh, how great!

The appeal, they actually let you out.

Well, good. That's...
Oh, it's good to see you.

Sorry, I wasn't...

The general feeling
was, they wouldn't...

You remember my mother, Maria?

Hey, Cleave.

I could have dinked ya.

There's a very small, bald person.

Iain Vargas Meagher,
meet Cleaver Greene.

Barney, can you... stop
that? That is disgusting.

Just reminding the lad
where he came from.

New life, eh, Cleave?

I've got to fly. I'm helping
out at the school this arvo.

- Oh, sorry.
- That's alright.

Right.

So, um...

You can sleep on the couch
tonight. Mum's a bit of a snorer.

You had Barney's baby.

You had a baby with Barney.

With Barney! A b... b... baby.

That's the situa... Is
that what has happened here?

The paperwork would
indicate that is the case.

OK, so he's lost a ball
and he's fathered a baby?

Yep. And you called the baby 'Ian'?

It's spelled I-A-I-N.

Oh, that makes all the
difference... 'Ee-ayn.'

I've got to go, so...

So, what? You're off working
for another barrister now?

I am living the dream.

Of all the things I've
heard so far today,

that would surprise me the least.

OK. I've got to get a cash flow going.

I've got to get some clients on the go.

I've got to get a little
space somewhere else.

Like I said, I'm on my way.

That's been cut off, so
you'll need to use your mobile.

I don't have a mobile!

Until a couple of minutes
ago, I was a murderer.

Beautiful.

Malcolm Finnane?

Where's Malcolm Finnane?

- I'm Finnane.
- Look at you.

Straight out of deepest, darkest
prison. How long inside, Malcolm?

- 17 years.
- Wonderful.

- And now on parole?
- Yep.

I know I'm being a gay cliché, but
at 3:20am in my cold, little flat,

do you know what I thought?

No.

I thought, 'I'm listening to the
next Susan Boyle except in prison.'

You are not to go through that door.

I am exercising a super veto
card. No audition, straight to air.

The first time our judges hear
you will be on Monday 7th July

when all of Australia does.

Tuesday, the name 'Malcolm
Finnane' will be viral.

So I'm on the show?

You'll be singing Valjean.
Of course you know the song?

Yes, I've heard it, but I was
going to sing the aria from Tosca.

Valjean, Les Mis, One Day More.

And you and I are friends for eternity.

_

_

_ Bye-bye.

Fuzz, this is your old dad.

I am a free man, mate.

I am cleared of all charges,

and I'm hanging out to
see you, pal. Can't wait.

I'm going to swing by the
house later on, OK? See ya.

Harley, mate!

Harley!

Cleave! I thought you were in the nick.

The court saw the error of
its ways. What are you up for?

- Bit of murder.
- Fantastic.

I'm here for you. Give us a
call. Actually, don't call me!

- I'm going to write down my address.
- Mate, I'm seeing someone. Sorry.

Tadpole! What are you up for?

Arson. Bye, Cleave.

Oh, yes.

Ah!

My client, my secretary,
my best friend's wife.

You were in prison.

So you decided to steal my
secretary and my entire client base?

Your client base? A rag-bag
cluster of low-life sink hair?

Not you, Harley.

Barney referred them to me.

Nobody thought to ask me?

Why would we need to ask you?

These guys need a counsel who
could physically attend a courtroom.

I'm sorry, you two, together, in the...

This woman, she has had
your husband's love child.

Yes. She and her are well aware of that.

What do you want me to do, demonise her?

We've worked through the issues.

We sat down and we talked it out.
Maybe you should try it some time.

Yeah. We cried and laughed.

The fact Barney has cancer
brings us even closer together.

We realised we actually like each other.

Best buds, aren't we, Nic?

I've died. I'm in hell.

It's a never-ending chick flick.

And you!

You and I are family. I've
watched you grow over the years.

Three assaults, one possession
of an illegal firearm.

Who was there by your side every time?

- You were, mate.
- Me.

Who talked a judge down

from a three-year to a
nine-month suspended sentence?

- You did.
- Me.

Who was there for your
brother's first GBH

and your cousin's assault
with a deadly weapon?

Me, me, me. And now that you get
a decent murder, where are you?

Off with somebody else. Well, that's
loyalty, that's friendship for you.

Cleaver, your world is different now.

Harley is completely free
to choose whomever he likes.

If he wants to walk back to
a man who has no chambers...

No phone.

...no standing in the legal
world, then please do so, Harley.

But otherwise, I've got
a meeting to go to.

Alright, well, fuck you all very much.

And I'll... I'll be OK
to find my own way out.

And I do have a phone, by the way.

Gareth, my old friend.

Cleaver. Cleaver Greene.

Yes. No, out.

Out, cleared, innocent.

Yeah, OK, quashed.

I'm out, I'm available for work.

Cindy, baby. Cleaver Greene.
How are you?

Listen, ah, just to say
that if you needed...

OK, well, there are other barristers
than her, and I am one of them.

Arrgh!

- Shit!
- Damn! Are you alright?

Yeah. I just got attacked
by some battleship cruiser.

Do you think, just for once,
we could do this in a hotel?

This is the only secure place.
Mother doesn't mind, I promise.

I mind. This has got to stop.

This is wrong on so many levels.

He had a baby with somebody else.

You were going to leave him, then...

Yes, then.

Until he's either better or...
not. I can't do this anymore,

not with Simon Le Bon looking down on me

and the TV blaring in the next room.

I know. Babe, please.

I can't live without you. I just...

There's someone outside.
I think it's a journo.

Not everyone in the world is a journo.

Why would he be interested in

tailing the leader of the
world's smallest opposition party?

Have you been talking
to Greene about this?

Yeah. I thought he should
know, and I showed him photos.

No, please. Just stick
around, just until I've gone.

Mum really likes you.

I love you.

Lincoln!

Lincoln, Lincoln!

Mate!

I have missed you.

You're out! I'm out.

I went to visit you
about half a dozen times.

They said you said, 'Piss off.'

And you believed them? Mate! I
was in solitary for four months.

I couldn't get a note out.
I'm writing a book about it.

Wow. So... are you out on parole?

No, no. I'm free, innocent.

Acquitted or quashed?

Yeah. So, free for work, huh? Old times.

Oh, no. I've got nothing worthy
of you. I've got tiny stuff.

I've got a DUI. The guy wanted to
fight it but I said it's probably...

Oh, come on. If four months in
solitary has taught me anything,

it's that every man must
stand and fight for his rights.

Mr McGregor!

Let me not keep you good folk
out here in this winter chill.

I am genuinely grateful
for my time here.

It gave me a chance to reflect

and to ask some pretty
serious questions of myself.

I now realise

that in my zealousness to protect
the great people of this State,

I lost my own moral compass.

Mr McGregor, one more
question before you go.

Cal, Cal? So what now?
What for the future?

Well, apart from a life of service,

I really haven't given it any thought.

- God bless.
- Thank you, Mr McGregor.

God bless you, Mick.

Get me the fuck out of
this shithole, will you?

Oh, yeah!

Ah, no.

No speak Polish.

No Polish. No.

Sorry. Bye-bye now.

Oh, my God!

Cleave! Oh, your appeal!

- You're out!
- Yes. Yes, I'm out.

There's a big for-sale sign.

Yes, you can't stay. As soon as the bread
has finished baking, we've got to go.

We're open for inspection in 15.

- Are we?
- Come and have a quick glass of wine.

- Roger's here?
- Yeah, Roger lives here now.

Oh, Roger lives here now.

Where's Fuzz? Why wasn't
he at my bloody appeal?

You could have at least sent him.

He might have forgotten. He's
doing this intensive study course.

- He's going to work in Africa.
- Hello, Cleaver.

Welcome back to the land of
the living. How was it in there?

- Work in Africa?
- He and Tara are going to the Congo

to build hospitals and
schools and sing happy hymns.

- He's very committed to it.
- Bloody Congo?

No son of mine is going
to do good works.

What happened to university?

- His father went to prison.
- How long have I been asleep?

What happened to the
world while I was inside?

I feel like Rumpelstiltskin.

We sat down as a family and decided...

What family was this?

Fuzz and myself and Roger
and Tara, we all agreed

that you were too much
a part of this house

and we needed to move forward.

Oh, did we? Did we all
have a vote on that?

It was like you were dead, Cleave.

There were too many sad memories
and there was too much shit.

Rip van Winkle.

What?

It was Rip van Winkle
who slept for 100 years.

Rumpelstiltskin was the riddle guy.

You're killing me. You know that, Wendy?

I'm not meaning to.

We're getting married, mate.

Blow, bugles, blow Set
wild echoes flying

Blow, bugles Answer
echoes dying, dying, dying.

It was Rip van Winkle.

I didn't think I'd hear
from you for days.

I thought you'd be doing
some massive family thing.

Oh, you know, they all wanted
to. I was keen to keep it low-key.

I've got some news.

I followed your advice.
I did that audition thing.

And Tarquin, he heard my
tape. He really liked it.

A turtle listened to your
tape? Oh, no. That's a terrapin.

He reckons I could be
some kind of sensation.

I don't really believe him.

Would you come? It would
mean a mountain if you did.

- Monday the 9th?
- Sure, mate.

Sorry, what are we talking
about here? What did I recommend?

You said I should audition
for Aussies Gotta Sing.

- Did I?
- Yeah.

You said, 'If you make your voice
heard, then people will listen.'

You said, 'Follow your
dreams, my friend.'

Mm. Right.

Sorry, mate, which show is it?

Is it the one where everybody's nice
to you or the one with the arsehole?

Yeah, Gordon.

Yeah, he's famous.

Increasingly, I hear people are famous.

I've no idea who any of them are.

He had a massive hit, Toledo Mio.

Oh, Gordon Martin, Toledo Mio.

Oh, yes. Early '90s, '92, '93.

Must have charted for about
three minutes in the top ten.

Do you really think it's a good idea

to let yourself be judged by this man?

You don't think I should do
it? You think it's a mistake?

No, no. No.

Just don't put too much
weight in that clown's opinion.

This is it for me, mate.
It's my only way out.

I'm not like you. You
can jump straight back in.

If I can do this, if I can get
a little bit famous, you know?

People forgive you, don't they?

Yeah.

Yeah!

Fame is the great
get-out-of-jail-free card.

If you take away the senseless violence,

fear for your life, man rape,

the slammer wasn't so bad, was it?

You know, quiet cell, pleasant company.

I reckon that year with you was
one of the happiest of my life.

Fuck, mate. It hasn't been all
Vogue Living in your life, has it?

Don't do that.

I'll get you another drink.

Sh, sh!

Sorry.

Shut up!

Thanks a bloody bundle.

I'm sorry. I completely forgot.

There's a new world order.
I'm in Topsy-Turvy Land.

No, they're not going to have any sex.

Did you take my mother's phone?

What?

No!

What does it look like?

♪ Oh, Toledo ♪

♪ Gonna give my baby the heave-ho. ♪

Morning.

Ah, Chantelle.

Holy sh... Tikki!

Hello, Cal sweetie.

How's the hotel? How were the girls?

Oh. Oh, very good.

Thank you, Tikki.

I didn't realise you were
coming. Let me get changed.

No! Sit down. Relax.

Alright. Alright.

Lovely to see you back
in the real world.

Yes. So, have you given any thought

to what you might do
now that you're out?

Ah, yes. Yeah. I've got a few plans.

Here's what I think we need you to do.

You're going to host a
new television program

on one of my cable thingies,

and I think you would be adorable.

Well! I hadn't really
thought of the media,

but it does seem like a natural fit.

A current-affairs,
right-slant newsy thing?

Whatever you like, darling.

Bit of a rant, mostly
gambling and scandal.

That's what the public needs.

I presume there's strings
attached to this?

More ropes than strings, pet.

I need you to be au fait
with my new business model.

Have you got a dollar coin there, love?

Yeah, yes.

Just pop your one dollar into that.

And I give you back, say, 20 cents.

Uh-huh.

80 for me, 20 for you. It's
the perfect business model.

It's called a casino.

I am currently tendering
to build a new one.

I want to create something magnificent,

a great cathedral,

where people of all nations,
mainly China and Singapore,

come to worship in its chambers.

But I'm copping a lot of flack...

churches and anti-gambling lobbyists.

There's even talk of
it being a sacred site.

How can land on Sydney
Harbour be sacred?

The place is a festival of desecration.

Exactly.

Cal, I want it more than my children.

And I need a brave captain at
the helm to avoid those icebergs.

You are that man.

Come, Jerry.

Right, well, I'm with you, Tikki.

Specifically though,
what do you want me to do?

Just follow the bouncing ball, Cal.

- Bye, Cal.
- Yeah, bye, Jerry. Good to...

...see you.

Glen was three points over.

He needs his car for work.

Why are we meeting here?

Ah, Glen, I just think

that it's a lot less
threatening for my client base

if I meet them here rather
than in my big, showy chambers,

all that marble and so on.

Would you like a coffee? Maria,
if you're not doing anything...

_

Apparently, the machine's
broken again. Polish machine.

Look, I've been thinking.

This is my third time.
Probably not worth fighting it.

Really? If I had that attitude,
I'd still be in prison.

So would Mandela.

Some things are worth
fighting for, mate.

All it takes for evil to triumph
is for good men to do nothing.

- I was pissed.
- Were you?

Are you a doctor? Did
the machine get checked?

Was the reading accurate?
Did you get a blood test?

No, I refused. I'm haemophiliac.

Well, there you go. We
need to fight this.

I was reading an interesting
article the other day

from this scientist at
the Garrault Institute

who reckons the machine's readings,
once you've used it a few times,

they're not necessarily accurate.

I need to meet this person
as soon as humanly possible.

I've had two papers published in
scientific journals on the subject.

Governments choose to ignore
my findings, of course,

breath-testing being such a
great source of revenue for them.

But the truth does not disappear
simply because it is inconvenient.

Just how inaccurate are
these machines, Elliott?

It varies.

Science demands exactitude, but
usually ends up with probabilities.

When you breathe out, your
breath goes directly into there.

With each breath also goes a
microscopic amount of alcohol,

or you wouldn't get the reading.

My contention is, the heavier
molecular weight of the alcohol

remains in the breathalyser.

If you breath-test, say, 200
people who have been drinking,

the cumulative effect, if you're
number 201, can alter the reading

by an as yet unquantifiable
but not insignificant margin.

Doubt is all I need to establish.

- You want a demonstration?
- Absolutely, we do.

I've been thinking about this.

I don't want to sing light
opera. I want to sing real opera.

No. You don't.

You will be Valjean, the part
that almost won our Hugh an Oscar.

So, already we're seeing a.0003
variation between the two machines.

Extrapolate that over many
people, and you would have to say

the numbers conform to a
predictable hyperbolic rise.

Well, let's tease out this
hypothesis a little more.

Maybe the pinot next.

Pinot, pinot, pinot.

Ah! Pinot.

If Humberstone is even a quarter
of a scintilla near right,

we are made.

We saw the numbers.

How many people have
incurred fines on faulty data?

How many licences have
been needlessly lost?

As many as there are drops in the ocean.

We are talking a massive class
action against government.

More than the stars in the sky.

Are we absolutely convinced

this guy's scientific
qualifications stack up?

A 100 per cent!

Right.

Then get it up on your website.

Tell everyone who has ever had a DUI

that there is a class action a-coming.

Put my name and number to it

and stand back and behold the
glorious tidal wave to come.

OK, I have you on 9th July... a DUI.

What do we think, gentlemen, 15 minutes?

I think more like two days, Your
Honour. This is a very complex case.

No. How?

Well, my client has a number
of work and home-related factors

that I believe have considerable
bearing on this case, Your Honour.

Fine. 20 minutes, then.

And I have a welter of
scientific evidence

provided by an expert witness
that has grave implications

for the entire legal system.

OK! Back to 15.

Who is this man?

What is his story?

On Monday 9th July, a
very special edition

of Aussies Gotta Sing, where,
for the very first time,

the surprise card will be played.

This man will appear before
our judges, untried, unproven,

and with a shocking secret.

He will face final judgement.

Has Edie Newbar finally met her match?

So we bring him on. You pretend
you know nothing about him.

Shock, horror, reveal.
You humiliate him.

I know the drill.

But really push it to fight
stage. Then he rallies and sings.

We line up lots of people
in the audience to whoop,

then you slowly rise
to your feet and clap.

Right, can the prick actually sing?

Oh, I think so. It's opera.

The guy's a bona fide
murderer. This isn't just us.

This is going to be news.
He's good for eight weeks.

- Eight weeks?
- Minimum.

We need Gordon in make-up now.

That's good. I'm coming.

Your Honour, there are many grounds

on which I could defend my client today.

Glen Hansi, family man

and production manager at an
aluminium-guttering company.

I could argue emotional stress.

His wife of eight years recently
left him for another woman,

which has seen him in the
hands of a psychologist

with whom he's already confronting
head-on the issue of substance abuse.

Yes. Indeed, there is considerable
precedent for such a submission.

But I'm not going to argue
that today, Your Honour.

I could argue that his contact
with his two young children

will be severely curtailed
if he cannot drive

and that his career in aluminium
extrusions could be lost.

Crown and Bayliss, indeed.

But I'm not going to argue
any of these here today.

Then why mention them?

Because, Your Honour, there are
bigger fish to fry here today.

Which still begs my initial question...

why bother to mention
the other reasons at all?

I'm trying to establish
a context, Your Honour.

What if I could prove here and now

that the entire foundation of this case

and potentially thousands
of similar cases

are open to serious question?

What if I were to say
that there may be prisoners

languishing in prison today

who are entirely innocent or at
the very least worthy of acquittal

on the basis of a
fundamentally flawed technology?

I would say, get on with it, and quick.

Indeed. And to that end,

let me call Dr Elliott
Humberstone, PhD from Princeton,

post-doctoral thesis from Harvard
and foundation member of the famed

Garrault Institute for Future Sciences.

Fine, but can you get
him to jog to the stand?

Dr Humberstone, could you
detail for the court's benefit

the body of your work
for the past 35 years?

Oh, please don't.

I'm prepared to accept that
he's a qualified scientist.

Indeed. Dr Humberstone, some years ago,

you began research into the
technology behind breath-testing.

Yeah, I did do that, yes.

Yes. Can you tell the
court what prompted this?

An epiphany, one of those great
moments in science where I realised

the basis upon which the taking
of alcohol samples from motorists

was premised on a questionable
scientific hypo... hypothesis.

- Is something wrong there, Doctor?
- A mild head cold, Your Worship.

Honour.

That the residual accretion
of alcoholic vapours

inside the very mechanism of the machine

contributed in no small part...

Mr Greene, is your
so-called expert witness

three sheets to the wind in my court?

No, I don't believe so.

Why is he wobbling in his chair, then?

He has an inner-ear issue, Your Honour.

I, however, have his
findings right here.

If it please the court, I
could possibly read them out.

I will not tolerate drunks
in my court, Mr Greene.

I'm used to derision.
I've been mocked before.

- But I have the science to back up...
- Remove this man from my court.

Mr Greene, I realise that this is
your first case since your release,

but I've a good mind
to find you in contempt.

Your Honour, I have no
idea what's happened.

When I met him a couple of weeks ago,
he was like a scientist in a movie.

Given that you have refused
to plead any alternatives,

I find your client guilty.

I remove his licence for 12
months and fine him $1,500.

Next.

Don't even think about
sending a fucking bill.

Ah, that's a shame.

You'll be back in the harness soon.

Saddle, you fuckwit.

♪ Lovely lady of the sea ♪

♪ Won't you come and comfort me? ♪

What the hell is going on, mate?

I don't want to do that song. I
want to sing the aria from Tosca.

I can do it unaccompanied.

Let me tell you a little something, Mal.

I don't really know if
you can sing or not.

Opera all sounds the same to me.

The only thing I do know is
either you can play things our way,

or the road to obscurity lies that way.

You have just seconds to choose.

Malcolm, is it?

You're our...

...surprise card, is that it?

Tell us about yourself.
Why haven't we heard of you?

You're not exactly young.

What were you doing before now?

Don't tell me, you were a mime artist.

- I was in prison.
- What for?

- I just want to sing.
- You were in for wanting to sing?

It says here... murder.

Your father.

Is that right?

Righto, Mal. Give it a go.

Try not to murder the song.

- Aw!
- What?!

Did I say something wrong?

Fantastic.

Now just give it 30 seconds.
Let the tension build to fever.

Then walk back on as Valjean...

You know what?!

You know what?

Fuck Valjean.

Fuck you.

You stole my mother's phone.

No, I didn't.

Then why are a lot of
pissed people ringing her,

demanding legal representation?

OK, maybe I borrowed it by
mistake for a couple of days.

You're buying her a new phone and
you are paying her last phone bill.

Hello?

Yeah. No, mate. Look, I'm sorry.
I can't get your licence back.

No, I...

I know it said that on the website.

OK, same to you. Same to you, pal.

Oh, mate!

Oh, it's so good to see you.

Oh, I've missed you!

How are you, and what's all this
shit about you going to the Congo?

You know it's the most
dangerous place on earth.

I know. I don't want to talk
about that. I came to apologise.

I want to say, I'm sorry
for kind of cutting you off,

not visiting so much
the past few months.

Oh, that's OK. It must have
been a bit embarrassing.

No, that's not why I stopped coming.

I started to get really angry with
you, and I had no right to do that.

Yes, you did. I was
completely furious with myself.

You are who you are.
You can't change that.

No, I can change, and
I'm going to change.

No. People kept telling me you couldn't,

and I wouldn't believe them.

You're just someone people
can't rely on, and that's OK.

I just... I had no right
to expect any better.

Fuzz, if this is about
dropping out of school...

No, I don't want to study.

I want to be someone
who can help people.

I want to be someone people can rely on.

Mate, for someone who's forgiven
me, you sound pretty angry.

I promise you, I'm not.

I just don't want to have any
expectations of you anymore.

It's too hard.

I'm fine with it.

Well... no.

I'm your father. We have
a special relationship.

OK.

I'll call you in a few days,
Cleave, catch up before I leave.

'Dad'. Come on, at least call me 'Dad'.

Fuck.

There's a call for you.

Can you just tell them I
can't fix any fucking thing?

It's your friend Mal.

Oh, the turtle show! Oh, shit.
Oh, my God.

Mate!

Oh, mate, I'm so sorry. The taxi
didn't arrive, and I couldn't...

How did it go?

Oh, I'm sorry.

No, don't be stu...

Don't be crazy, mate. Where are you?

What are you doing?

What are you doing, Malcolm? No!

- Get down.
- Stop! You stay back. You stay back.

- It's over, Cleave.
- Oh, mate.

No, it's all finished now.

Oh, mate, come on. Look,
you've got another 50 years.

Is this all about some
fucking... stupid talent quest?

No.

That was it, mate.

The world will always be full
of people who want to judge you.

You can't let them. Don't
give them that power.

Don't give them that power! OK?

Look, things aren't
turning out all that well

for me either at the moment,

but you have to believe that
things can change, alright?

They change. They do.

No, some lives don't
change, do they, Cleave?

Some lives...

...never really get started.

They're just fucked...
fucked up from the beginning.

It just goes on and on.

I never sang for you, did I, mate?

I wish I had.

Well, come on, mate, fucking sing now!

Sing your... sing your little heart out.

Come on. And then will you
get down off the railing?

♪ O, dolci baci ♪

♪ O, languide carezze ♪

♪ Mentr'io fremente ♪

♪ Le belle forme disciogliea dai veli. ♪

Mate.

Mate, that's fucking amazing!

That is fucking amazing.

Come on, keep singing, mate.

Keep singing!

Keep singing. It's fucking
beautiful. Come on, mate.

I told you I could do it.

Fuck.

Oh, fuck.

Oh, fuck!

Fuck.

Oh, fuck!

Oh, fuck.