♪ (SOFT TUNE PLAYING ON PIANO) ♪
♪ (TUNE STOPS) ♪
You look like shit.
- Hmm. - And you stink of wine.
I lost the book.
- They took it. - (DOG BARKING IN DISTANCE)
There's no way out.
(SIGHS)
I get really scared when you're drunk.
I need you to be normal.
You know, not trying to be something
all the time.
It's hurting the both of us.
Okay.
- I'll go full normal. - ♪ (MELANCHOLIC MUSIC PLAYING) ♪
- Promise. - No, don't promise. Just try.
(INHALES DEEPLY)
♪ (MUSIC FADES) ♪
♪ (UPBEAT MUSIC PLAYING) ♪
Well, this is awkward.
It'll be a good bonding experience.
Might even be fun.
Road trip with a drunk driver and a deviant.
What a way to spend the day.
GLORIA: Look, you're the one who called me,
begging for her address,
and I ain't letting you go alone.
FLORIAN SELBY: I know you and me have had our ups and downs,
Lenny, but if Costello is in trouble,
I know she'd want to see you.
LENNY WILSON: Beats wanking all day.
(CLEARS THROAT) For you to go away.
Tits really aren't my thing.
Still a full-time prick, Florian?
Hoping to go part-time soon.
(CLEARS THROAT) Let's go.
Word of warning, I piss excessively.
We'll have to make stops.
Same. I got a baby on my bladder.
Oh, good. Just what I need.
An odyssey of a hundred piss stops.
♪ (MUSIC STOPS) ♪
(POLICE SIREN WAILING IN DISTANCE)
(SIGHS)
Morning, Si.
All right? What are you wanting?
- A loan? - I was uh,
wondering if I could get my job back.
Yeah, got something you can have.
Have that.
You couldn't hack it.
Look, you're right. I was out of line.
I like honesty, sometimes.
I'm just a girl
standing in front of a debt collector,
asking him to give her a shitty job.
Please?
You are desperate.
Yeah, go on then.
So, when do I start?
You already have. Get in the van.
COSTELLO JONES: Cheers.
(VAN DOOR SLIDING CLOSED)
- You know what your problem is? - ♪ (SOFT MUSIC PLAYING) ♪
You're a big gesture man.
Great fun on a Friday night in a Members Bar.
You can cut a man dead in 16 words or less.
Yes, I'm the very best in the game, Lenny.
LENNY: But on a Wednesday morning,
when Iris needs her lunch making or the U-bend is blocked,
you're next to useless.
And you stole Costello's money so she couldn't leave you.
- That's abuse. - I was very unwell, Gloria.
- And I've just left a psychiatric facility... - (GLORIA SCOFFS)
...you do know what that means,
- don't you? - What?
Slate is wiped clean. The past is a foreign country.
Children... (GROANS SOFTLY) ...I need a hose break.
Catholics have confession, us rich have therapists.
All is forgiven. There you go.
You have never taken responsibility
- for anything, have you? - SELBY: Oh, God.
The drunk driver has a conscience, does she?
LENNY: The hole's too small.
Dream on.
- (GROANS, SIGHS) - ♪ (MUSIC STOPS) ♪
Good knocking. Natural.
Ah, uh, Gary Wilson?
- Yeah. - You owe us 7,455 pounds.
How are you planning on paying us today?
You should have put your foot in there.
Knock again.
Showing you a little bit of disrespect there,
so, bit more knocking.
SIMON: Open up, Gary. It's time to pay, mate.
Don't stop. Gotta flush 'em out.
What the fuck are you doing?
What are you looking at? Do you want a slap?
Not for minimum wage, no.
Come on, Gary!
- (BOTH GRUNT) - SIMON: Go on, then.
- (COSTELLO MUMBLES) - (GARY WILSON GRUNTS)
SIMON: Get in the house, and grab what you can,
- will you? - Don't you dare!
I don't hit women but my missus does!
Yeah, I'd like to see her try, mate.
Come on then.
- No, I'm not getting involved. - GARY: Oh, looks like
you're on your own now, mate! (GRUNTS)
All right! He's had enough. Just...
(SIMON GROANS)
COSTELLO: All right, let's go.
I'll be adding this to your debt.
(SCOFFS)
(DOOR SLAMS)
- Are you all right? - SIMON: Oh, I'm fine.
COSTELLO: I've got a-- a tissue.
I don't need a tissue. Need no tissue.
We need to have a little chat, don't we, about your conduct.
That's what we need to do.
(SIGHS)
(SCOFFS)
LENNY: Oh, unzip me, darling.
(BREATHES HEAVILY)
I know this journey's hard for you.
Today is sure to end in fireworks,
but I admire how you never take the easy way out.
- Can I ask you something? - (PANTING)
Am I allowed to answer honestly?
I know how savage you can be when offended.
- That's not true. - LENNY: I once said,
you stopped Costello living a full life.
You gave me the silent treatment,
six months.
Do you think it's possible to be happy?
Fucked if I know.
But if you find someone, anyone,
anything that makes you...
even remotely close to happy, grab onto it.
Never let it go.
But be on guard, my friends.
- Time slips away... - (CAR DOOR CLOSING)
...so fucking fast.
SELBY: Yes.
One minute you're pulling out your own cock to take a piss,
the next moment, someone has to do it for you.
- (CAR DOOR OPENING) - (CAR ENGINE REVVING)
All right, put some of that on it,
- it'll sort it out. - Ta.
- Well... - (SIGHS)
...I've seen the sky on fire.
Whole cities burned to the ground.
That was bleak.
That's the sort of shit that makes you sound
like an incel, Simon.
You know, you're like, supposed to be me wingman?
Me backup?
Why'd you get in that fight?
Because it's a jungle out there, innit?
And I wanna be king of it.
Didn't look like king of the jungle
when that woman was slapping your head.
Yeah, listen, I'm gonna have to let you go.
What for?
You can't sack me for no reason.
- You want a reason? - COSTELLO: Yeah.
Uh, how about you're a crap debt collector?
I-- I'm starting to think you're not going to shag me.
- (COINS CLINKING) - Eight pound an hour we agreed, yeah?
- You did about what, 50 minutes? - ♪ (SOMBER MUSIC PLAYING) ♪
There you go. Seven pounds. Yeah?
And can I have the tie back?
- Fucking prick. - SIMON: Thank you. Good.
Good luck.
♪ (MUSIC FADES) ♪
- SELBY: Fucking hell, Lenny! - LENNY: Oh, fuck you!
It's my medication.
- Makes me lose control. - (GLORIA GAGGING)
(GROANS) Out.
- I'm-- I'm-- I'm stuck. (GROANS) - Oh, my God.
LENNY: One day you'll both be old fucks too.
(GROANS)
- Good afternoon. - Good afternoon.
Do you rent rooms by the hour?
Uh, no, sir.
It's 70 pounds.
Not for the hour, but for the whole night.
What's your name?
It's Ben.
Let me level with you, Ben. I think we can all smell it.
Ain't me.
Yes, it's me, Ben.
I'm just a-- a sick old artist who's soiled himself
on the road of life.
(TELEPHONE RINGING)
Will you be wanting
- the breakfast buffet? - SELBY: Oh, no, darling.
We won't be wanting breakfast, buffet or otherwise.
He just needs to shower off the shit.
- (SHOWER RUNNING) - (LENNY VOCALIZING)
(COUGHING)
- That was nice of you. - I'm not a monster.
Oh, my God.
- SELBY: You okay? - Oh, my God. Oh, my God.
Feel it. Feel this.
- Is that a kick? - Or is it wind?
As if I'd let you feel my wind.
She's real.
Man, I actually give a fuck.
Yeah, well,
I think giving a fuck about something is underrated.
Do you think I'm good...
- ♪ (PENSIVE MUSIC PLAYING) ♪ - ...as a dad?
As a human, you're intolerable.
As a dad, you give it your best shot.
(BIRDS CHIRPING)
♪ (MUSIC FADES) ♪
- (SIGHS) - (DOOR OPENS)
Oh, hi, Grey. Um, do you think
you could possibly pick up Iris from school today?
- Uh-huh. - COSTELLO: And then bring her
back to yours. Maybe give her some dinner?
Sure.
Yeah, I wouldn't usually ask, but...
You all right?
GREY: Touch it.
It feels just like the real thing.
How much would you pay for something that feels
and looks just like the real thing?
Nothing, 'cause it's not real.
- (SMACKS LIPS) Who's gonna know? - Everyone, Grey.
People that have real 2000-pound handbags
don't live here.
I was thinking we could sell them
- to your famous friends. - (CHUCKLES)
- I would give you a cut. - What famous friends?
- Your famous writer friends. - I don't know any writers.
I thought you were signed to a big publisher.
Not anymore.
You said you were big time,
- with your Magnums. - Yeah, that dream's over.
GREY: Back to Cornettoes then. Oh, well.
Most books are shite anyway.
Just got to get on with it now?
I can't just get on with it.
(SIGHS)
I deserve to be something, don't I?
- Yes. - COSTELLO: Yeah.
Yes, you do.
But you're not the first person on an estate to get fucked over.
(INHALES) Everyone's got ambition, darling.
My mum, me...
my little girl.
She went off, looking for something better.
Left me to raise Tennessee.
Said he was better off with me.
Some people just aren't cut out to be parents.
Um.
Could Iris stay here tonight?
Uh-huh.
Yeah.
I just need to, um,
you know...
- GREY: Get pissed. - Yeah.
She'll be all right.
COSTELLO: Yeah, I know she will.
- Thank you, Grey. - ♪ (SOMBER MUSIC PLAYING) ♪
(DOOR OPENS, CLOSES)
(BOTTLES CLINKING)
(EXHALES)
(SOBS)
(COINS CLATTERING ON FLOOR)
GLORIA: What do you think we're gonna find when we get there?
- At Costello's? - Mm.
Well, you never know with her, she's probably fine.
True.
- (PHONE BUZZES) - GLORIA: She is the most
self-centered person I've ever known.
Yeah. I used to think
it was because she was alone in the world, but...
actually, maybe that's the reason she is alone.
(SIGHS) Hi, Selby. It's me.
I need you to do something for me.
Um. Iris is, uh,
at 104 Sunset Park, Somerset.
- (LINE BEEPING) - Fuck! (BREATHES HEAVILY)
You gonna be okay with seeing her?
You've just got out of hospital.
We're both here with you.
It's okay.
Well, this kindness from you is really rather touching,
even if it is fake.
It's very much appreciated.
- Shit, Lenny? - ♪ (MUSIC FADES) ♪
- GLORIA: What's wrong with him? - Lenny? Lenny!
- Shit! - Shake him for fuck sake!
Lenny! Lenny!
- SELBY: Lenny! Lenny! - Wake up!
- Fuck me, he's dead. - SELBY: Oh, fuck.
We're stopping. We'll stop, we've got to stop.
(BIRDS CHIRPING)
(KEYS JINGLING)
Oh, my God, he's got a hard-on.
They always do at the end.
(LAUGHS)
I've always got a hard-on. (LAUGHS)
(COUGHING)
AUTOMATED VOICE: You have one new message.
First new message.
COSTELLO: Hi, Selby, it's me.
Um, I need you to do something for me.
♪ (PENSIVE MUSIC PLAYING) ♪
COSTELLO: I need you to collect Iris for me
and I need you to look after her for me.
Because I can't and you can.
- (SNIFFLES) - GLORIA: What's wrong?
What's happened?
COSTELLO: Because I try, and I try, and I'm just...
not good enough. (SNIFFLES)
And she deserves so much better than me.
(SNIFFLES, GROANS SOFTLY)
So, that's it, really. (SNIFFLES)
Time to write my own ending.
(SOBS, SNIFFLES)
(SOBBING, SNIFFLING)
(SIGHS) I know I'm a bad mom.
(SNIFFLES)
♪ (MUSIC INTENSIFIES) ♪
- SELBY: Costello Jones? - 107 Craybridge.
Up? Gloria, up.
- SELBY: Costello? - Is she in there? (PANTS)
- SELBY: Costello? - GLORIA: (GASPS) Wake up!
Hey, hey!
How many have you taken?
- SELBY: Get up. - (GROANS)
SELBY: How many?
Not sure.
(GROANS) Make her chuck up, just in case.
- (SELBY GROANS) - COSTELLO: Where's Iris?
SELBY: Come on, we've done this before, haven't we?
- (RETCHES) - Oh!
(COUGHS)
- You're fucking disgusting. - (COSTELLO SPITS)
(GROANS, RETCHES)
GLORIA: It's going to be okay. Get it all out.
- (COSTELLO GROANS, SNIFFLES) - I go to a mental asylum
for five minutes and this happens.
- (COSTELLO BREATHES DEEPLY) - You're a silly bitch.
- What are you? - ♪ (MUSIC FADES) ♪
- COSTELLO: I'm a silly bitch. - GLORIA: Mm-hmm.
(SNIFFLES, GROANS)
(INHALES, SPITS)
(COUGHS, SPITS)
(SIGHS)
Maybe this is who I'm supposed to be.
And I should just accept it.
Who am I to think that I could be something?
It's just arrogant, isn't it?
Problem is...
you don't know your place.
But...
that's the best thing about you.
A wise old man once said...
"Find what you love and let it kill you."
I think that's good advice.
Who said that?
- I don't know. Some old cunt. - (BOTH CHUCKLE)
(COSTELLO GROANING)
- (SIGHS) - I wanna sit on your lap.
- Are you all right? - Yeah.
- Fine. - I'm sorry.
You are everything.
- Oh, you are everything. - IRIS JONES: Stop. Stop. Stop.
- Stop. Stop. (CHUCKLES) - COSTELLO: Everything.
- (BIRDS CHIRPING) - (INDISTINCT CHATTER)
You staying here?
Don't know.
You going back to hospital?
No.
I'm only 36. Too young to be perfect.
(CHUCKLES)
Probably just do a law conversion.
- But you're a nutjob. - Oh, yeah.
No, you're right, better suited to politics.
(EXHALES)
Become an MP, respectable man.
PM within a year.
(CHUCKLES)
You know, I wasn't really trying to die, don't you?
Suicide note and the pills would suggest otherwise.
Yeah.
Fair.
She needs you.
GLORIA: Whoo!
I... sort of do too.
- Sort of? - Yeah, sort of.
Sort of.
Henry Miller was 44 when he first got published.
Bukowski was 55.
So, there we are.
Do you think we're bad for each other?
Hmm...
Junk food's bad for you.
But I fucking love it.
Well, I could stay here with you, maybe?
Just for a while.
♪ ("DON'T DREAM IT'S OVER" BY CROWDED HOUSE PLAYING) ♪
Do you really think things could be any different?
♪ There is freedom within There is freedom without ♪
♪ Try to catch the deluge In a paper cup ♪
♪ There's a battle ahead Many battles are lost ♪
♪ But you'll never see The end of the road ♪
♪ While you're traveling With me ♪
♪ Hey, now, hey, now Don't dream it's over ♪
♪ (SONG FADES) ♪