MUSIC MONDAY The Beatles A Hard Day’s Night

You may be interested in links to the other posts I have done on the Beatles and you can click on the link below: FRANCIS SCHAEFFER ANALYZES ART AND CULTURE PART 288, LINKS TO 3 YEARS OF BEATLES POSTS (March of 2015 to Feb of 2018) Featured artist is Mark Dion


The Beatles A Hard Day’s Night sottotitolato in italiano

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Pardon me for asking, but who’s that little old man?
-What little old man? -That little old man.
-Oh, that one. That’s my grandfather. -Your grandfather?
-That’s not your grandfather. -It is, you know.
But I’ve seen your grandfather. He lives in your house.
That’s my other grandfather, but he’s my grandfather as well.
How do you reckon that one out?
Everyone’s entitled to two, aren’t they? And that’s my other one.
We know all that, but what’s he doing here?
-Mother thought the trip’d do him good. -How’s that?
He’s nursing a broken heart.
Poor old thing.
Are you nursing a broken heart?
He’s a nice old man, isn’t he?
He’s very clean.
-Hello, Grandfather. -Hello.
He can talk then, can he?
Of course. He’s a human being, isn’t he?
If he’s your grandfather, who knows?
-And we’re looking after him, are we? -I’ll look after meself.
Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of.
He’s got you worried, then?
Him? He’s a villain, a real mixer.
And he’ll cost you a fortune in breach of promise cases.
-Get on. -No, straight up.
-Hello, Shake. -Hello, Shake.
You got on all right, then?
No.
We’re here. Norm will be along in a minute with the tickets.
Who’s the little old man?
It’s Paul’s grandfather.
-But I thought– -No, That’s his other one.
Oh, that’s all right, then.
Clean though, isn’t he?
Aye. He’s very clean.
Thank God, you all got here. I’ve had a marvelous idea.
Once, let’s all try to behave like ordinary respectable citizens.
Let’s not cause trouble or pull any strokes.
Or do anything I’d be sorry for inj that television theater.*
Are you listening to me, Lennon?
You’re a swine. Isn’t he, George?
Yeah, a swine.
Thanks.
Hey!
Who’s that little old man?
-Well, who is he? -He belongs to Paul.
I’m going down for a cup of coffee. Anyone coming?
We’ll follow you down.
-I want me coffee. -You can come with Shake and me.
And look after him. I don’t want to find you’ve lost him.
Don’t be cheeky. I’ll bind him to me with promises.
Very clean, isn’t he?
Come on, Granddad.
Make up your mind, will you?
Hello. Morning.
All right.
Do you mind if we have it open?
Yes, I do.
Four of us want it open, if it’s all the same to you.
It isn’t. I travel on this train regularly twice a week…
…so I suppose I have some rights.
So have we.
We’ll have that thing off as well.
Knowledge of the Railway Acts tell you I’m within my rights.
But we want to hear it.
We’re a community, majority vote, up the workers and all that stuff.
Then I suggest you take that damn thing into the corridor…
…or some other part of the train where you obviously belong.
Give us a kiss.
Look, we paid for our seats too, you know.
I travel on this train regularly, twice a week.
Knock it off, Paul. You can’t win with his sort.
After all, it’s his train. Isn’t it, mister?
And don’t take that tone with me, young man.
I fought the war for your sort.
I bet you’re sorry you won.
-I shall call the guard. -Ah, but what?
They don’t take kindly to insults, you know.
Let’s go have some coffee and leave the kennel to Lassie.
Hey, mister, can we have our ball back?
Look, mister!
Mister, can we have our ball back?
-You want to watch it! -Well, it’s not my fault.
-You stick to that story, son. -I can’t help it. I’m taller than you.
They always say that.
I’ve got me eye on you.
I’m sorry, Norm. I can’t help being taller than you.
Don’t rub it in. I’ve a good mind to thump you, Shake.
If you have a barney, can I hold your coat?
-He started it. -I did not, you did.
What happened?
The old fellow said could he have these pictures and Norm said no.
I said “Why not be big about it?”
And?
Your grandfather said that Shake was always being taller just to spite me.
I knew it. He started it.
-I should’ve known. -You what?
You two never argue and in two minutes flat he’s got you at it.
He’s a king mixer.
He hates group unity, so he gets everyone at it.
I suggest you just give him the photos and have done with it.
All right, you old devil. Here you are.
Hey, Pauly, would you ever sign one of them for us?
Come on, Shake.
Hey, look at the talent.
-Let’s give them a pull. -Should l?
Don’t rush. None of your five-bar gate jumps.
What’s that supposed to mean?
I don’t know. I thought it just sounded distinguished.
George Harrison, The Scouse of Distinction.
Excuse me, madam.
These young men I’m with wondered if two of us could come over and join you.
I’d ask you meself only I’m shy.
I’m sorry, miss. You mustn’t fraternize with me prisoners.
-Prisoners? -Convicts in transit.
-Typical old lags, the lot of them. -You what?
Get out, ladies! Get out, while you can!
SON OF MAD
He’s been gone a long time.
-Who? -Paul’s grandfather.
-I didn’t notice. Where did he go? -Down the, uh….
-Oh, down the, uh…. -Yeah. Down the, uh….
Give him a couple of minutes, then.
Hey, have you seen Paul’s grandfather?
Of course. He’s concealed about me person.
He must have slipped off somewhere.
-Have you lost him? -Don’t exaggerate.
-You’ve lost him! -Look, put it this way, Pauly….
He’s mislaid him.
Honest, you can’ t trust you with anything, Norm.
-If you’ve lost him, I’ll cripple you. -He can’t have gone far.
Come, lads, let’s look up the sharp end.
What’s the matter with you, then?
It’s his grandfather. He doesn’t like me ’cause I’m little.
You’ve got an inferiority complex.
That’s why I play the drums. It’s me active compensatory factor.
Going in, then?
No. She’ll only reject me in the end and I’ll be frustrated.
You may be lucky this time.
No, I know the psychological pattern. It plays havoc with me drum skins.
-You seen that old man we were with? -We’ve broken out!
The blessed freedom of it all.
Have you got a nail file? These handcuffs are killing me.
I was framed. I’m innocent.
Sorry for disturbing you girls.
I bet you can’t guess what I was in for.
Should we go in here?
No, it’s probably a honeymoon couple or a company director.
I don’t care. I’m going to broaden me outlook.
-Congratulate me, boys. I’m engaged. -Oh, no you’re not.
And to think me own grandson would’ve let them put me behind bars.
Don’t dramatize. You’re lucky to be here.
If they’d have had their own way you’d have been dropped off already.
You’ve got to admit you’ve upset a lot of people.
At least I can keep my eye on you while you’re stuck in here.
Shove up.
-Odds or evens? -Odds.
Don’t worry, son. We’ll get the best lawyer green stamps can buy.
It’s a laugh a line with Lennon.
-Anyway, it’s your fault. -Why me?
Why not you?
God, it’s depressing in here, isn’t it?
Funny. They usually reckon dogs more than people in England.
You’d expect something more palatial.
-Let’s do something, then. -Like what?
Okay.
There’s the girls.
I’ll deal.
The Liverpool Shuffle.
1 for you, 2 for me, 3 for him.
-He’s wearing his lucky rings. -All mine.
They won’t buy you happiness, my son.
Hey! Don’t move, any of you.
They’ve gone potty out there. The place is surging with girls.
Please, sir, can I have one?
No, you can’t.
When I tell you, get out through this door into that big car that’s waiting.
Come on, lads! Go ahead!
-I don’t snore. -You do. Repeatedly.
-Do I snore, John? -Yeah. You’re a window rattler, son.
It’s just your opinion. Do I snore, Paul?
With a trombone hooter like yours it would be unnatural if you didn’t.
No, Pauly. Don’t mock the afflicted.
Come off it. It’s only a joke.
It may be a joke, but it’s his nose.
He can’t help having a hideous, great hooter.
And the poor little head trembling under the weight of it.
John, Paul, George, come on.
Get at it.
The income tax caught up with us at last.
-None for me, then? -Sorry.
This will keep you busy.
It’s your nose, you know. Fans are funny that way.
They take a dislike to things. They’ll pick on a nose.
You pick on your own.
Here.
-Are those yours? -No. They’re for Ringo.
It must have cost you a fortune in stamps, Ringo.
He comes from a large family.
Well.
What’s The Circle Club?
“The Circle Club requests the company of Mr. Richard Starkey”…that’s you–
“…to their gaming rooms. Chemin de fer, baccarat and champagne buffet.”
-They want me. -It’s got round you’re a big spender.
You’re not going.
Quite right. Invites to gambling dens full of easy money and fast women…
…chicken sandwiches and cornets of caviar. Disgusting.
That’s mine.
Get your pens out.
Why?
It’s homework time for you load of college puddings.
I want this lot answered tonight.
I want to go out.
‘ll brook no denial.
You couldn’t get a pen in your foot, you swine.
Chatter on, son, chatter on.
A touch of the writer’s cramp will soon sort you out. Come on, Shake.
For now, then.
-Where you going, then? -He told us to stay, didn’t he?
-Come, lad. -What?
I just got to get me jacket.
-Couldn’t we get a taxi? -No, we couldn’t get a taxi.
Come in.
I’ll clear up, sir.
Suivez.
Alors, monsieur?
Soufflé.
I bet you’re a great swimmer.
My turn?
Bingo!
Pas “Bingo”, monsieur. “Banco.”
I’ll take the little darlings anyway.
Two and one are three, carry one is four.
Bingo!
The manager!
Come on!
Now, come on you lot, get on with it.
-We were gonna do them, but you know. -Aye. Well, now, now, now!
I’m starting.
Hey? Any of you lot put a man in the cupboard?
No.
Well, somebody did.
He’s right, you know.
There you go.
Hey?
What’s all this?
Oh, him. He’s been lurking.
He looks a right lurker, doesn’t he?
You’re undressed. Where are your clothes?
Well, the old gentlemen, he borrowed them to go gambling at the Circ’.
-He’s gone to my club, has he? -Yeah. It’s all your fault.
-What? -Getting invites to gambling clubs.
He’s probably in the middle of some orgy by now.
Orgy!
-Yeah, but what about me? -You’re too old.
Encore du champagne, monsieur?
Oh, yeah. And I’ll have some more champagne as well.
Lord John McCartney, millionaire, lrish peer, filthy rich, of course.
I don’t know. He looks quite clean to me.
Try to act with a bit of decorum. This is a posh place.
We know how to behave. We’ve had lessons.
I’m sorry, sir, members and invited guests only.
Aye, well, uh….
I’m with them. I’m Ringo’s sister.
-Have you got a little old man here? -Do you mean Lord McCartney?
He’s at it again. I’m his grandfather. I mean….
It must be the dolly floor show.
Put me down!
Who are these ruffians?
Before you go, gentlemen, there’s the little matter of the bill.
I’ll take care of that.
-A hundred and eighty pounds?! -I beg your pardon, guineas.
Your winnings, my Lord, one hundred and ninety pounds.
-What about me change? -Cloak room charge.
Ah, well, easy come, easy go.
Well?
Ah, the filthy Englander.
Keep boating, Tiny.
-Go on, George. -Don’t be ridiculous.
-But you said I could. -Me mind boggles at the very idea.
A grown man and you haven’t shaved with a safety razor.
It’s not my fault. I come from a long line of electricians.
-Well, you’re not practicing on me. -All right, then. But show us.
Come on, then.
Rule Britannia! Britannia, rule the–
Put your tongue away. It looks disgusting hanging there.
One slip of the razor and….
Henreich! Headphones!
Help!
Torpedoed again, eh?
The car’s waiting to take you to the studio. Where’s John?
In the bath.
All right, Lennon, let’s have you.
Come on, John, stop larking about.
John?
John? John?
What are you messing around with that boat for?
There’s a car waiting. Come on!
Ready, John? As soon as we draw up, open that door and straight in.
-Can’t be waiting much longer. -I knew they’d be late.
It’s your press conference.
Where have you been?
Give us a couple of shakes to get our breath.
Give us a shout when it’s over.
I have a suit just like him, you know.
This lot means it. They’re even taking hostages.
I don’t like the handkerchief. I have it in me trouser pocket.
You can’t blow your nose on it up there, can you, mister?
No, you can’t.
I’ve always liked that question.
I never notice his nose till about six months ago.
Me mother asked me before we left for America if we wanted any sandwiches.
And when I plugged her in she just blew up.
Tell me, how did you find America?
Turn left at Greenland.
-Has success changed your life? -Yes.
I’d like to keep Britain tidy.
Are you a mod or a rocker?
Um, no. I’m a mocker.
Have you any hobbies?
No, actually we’re just good friends.
Do you think these haircuts have come to stay?
Well, this one has, you know, it’s stuck on good and proper now.
Frightfully nice.
-What would you call that hairstyle? -Arthur.
No, actually we’re just good friends.
Yours are brown, aren’t they?
What do you call that collar?
Oh, a collar.
-Do you often see your father? -No, actually we’re just good friends.
How do you like your girlfriends to dress?
That was a drag. I’m starving.
-Didn’t even get a jam butty. Did you? -No.
Anything left?
We just finished, Pauly.
Hey, George, give us your John Henry on that picture.
-Look at that! -What’s there?
-It’s our set down there. -Should we go down and have a go?
-There’s trees and everything. -That’s a lot of fellows for one set.
-That’s not a tree. -It is.
It’s a bird.
Just passing through.
-Where are they? -On the stage. Down here.
Leave them drums alone.
Surely, I could have just a little touch.
You so much as breathe, I’m out on strike.
Aren’t you being rather arbitrary?
There you go. Hiding behind a smoke screen of bourgeois clichés.
I don’t go messing about with your earphones, do l?
Spoilsport.
Well.
He’s very fussy about his drums, you know. They loom large in his legend.
-What’s up? -He’s sulking again.
I’ll show him.
Pardon, Tiny. I’d like more drums there.
-I think it’s on the third bit. -It sounds like a cover.
On the third bit, more bang!
All right, let’s hear no more about it. You’re probably right.
Look.
If you think I’m unsuitable, let’s be open. I can’t stand backstage politics.
Aren’t you tending to black-and-white the situation somewhat?
Well, quite honestly, I wasn’t expecting a musical arranger…
…to question my ability picture- wise.
I could listen to him for hours.
What’s all this about a musical arranger?
Mr. McCartney, Sr.
Pauly, they’re trying to fob you off with this musical charlatan…
…but I gave him the test.
I’m quite happy to be replaced.
He’s a typical buck-passer.
-I won an award. -A likely story.
It’s on the wall in my office.
Hello, our lot. Everybody happy?
All right. If you don’t need them, I’ll lock them up in the dressing room.
Please do. I’ll not need them for half an hour. Thank you.
Get me a bottle of milk and some tranquilizers.
It’s a I see it all now. It’s a plot.
Tranquilizers.
Come on, I’ve got the key.
Come on, Ringo.
Come on.
Leslie Jackson?
I saw your father in the old Empire in 1 909.
If you’re as good as him, son, you’re all right.
Gear costume.
-Swap? -Cheeky.
Come on, lads. No messing about.
Lennon, put them girls down or I’ll tell your mother.
Stop messing about.
Stay in here until that rehearsal.
If I have to, I’ll put the key in the lock and turn it.
We’re out!
I suppose you realize this is private property.
Sorry we hurt your field, mister.
Not here. Hello, Dicky.
Probably gone to the canteen.
No, that’s too easy for Lennon.
He’s out there somewhere causing trouble, just to upset me.
You’re imagining it, letting it prey on your mind.
No, this is a battle of nerves between John and me.
John hasn’t got any.
-What? -Nerves.
No, that’s just the trouble.
I’ve toyed with the idea of a ball and chain…
…but he’d just rattle them at me.
Sometimes I think he enjoys seeing me suffer.
-Hello! -Hello.
-Don’t tell me you’re– -No, I’m not.
-You are. -I’m not.
I know you are.
I’m not, no.
-You look just like him. -Do l?
You’re the first one that’s said that, ever.
Yes, you do. Look.
No, my eyes are lighter. All right, Noddy.
-The nose. -Yes, your nose is, very.
-Is it? -I would have said so.
-You know him better. -He’s only a casual acquaintance.
-That’s what you say. -What have you heard?
-It’s all over the place. -Is it really?
But I wouldn’t have it. I stuck up for you.
-I knew I could rely on you. -Thanks.
You don’t look like him at all.
She looks more like him than I do.
There will be a full rehearsal in ten minutes.
Ten minutes from now, a full rehearsal.
There you are.
Sorry, I must have made a mistake.
No, you’re just late. Actually, I think he’ll be very pleased with you.
-Really? -You’re quite a feather in the cap.
I’ve got one.
I think so.
Yes, he can talk.
No, and I think you ought to see him.
All right.
Come on.
Sorry.
You don’t see many of these nowadays, do you?
Come on.
Simon, will this do?
Not bad, dolly, not really bad. Turn around, chicky baby.
He’s a definite poss. He’ll look good alongside Susan.
This will be quite painless. Don’t breathe on me, Adrian.
I’m terribly sorry, but there seems to be some sort of misunderstanding.
You can come off it with us.
Don’t do all the old adenoidal glottal stop and carry on for our benefit.
I’m afraid I don’t understand.
-My God, he’s a natural. -I told them not to send real ones.
They know by now, the phonies are much easier to handle.
Still, he’s a good type.
We’d like you to give us your opinion on some clothes for teenagers.
By all means, I’d be quite prepared for that eventuality.
Not your real opinion. You’ll learn it.
-Can he read? -Of course I can.
I mean lines. Can you handle lines?
I’ll have a bash.
Give him whatever it is they drink, a cokerama?
Ta.
At least he’s polite.
Show him the shirts. Adrian.
You’ll like these.
You’ll really dig them. They’re fab and all the other pimply hyperboles.
I wouldn’t be seen dead in them. They’re dead grotty.
-Grotty? -Yeah, grotesque.
Make a note of that word and give it to Susan.
It’s rather touching, really.
This kid is trying to give me his utterly valueless opinion…
…when I know that within a month…
…he’ll be suffering from a violent inferiority complex…
…and loss of status because he isn’t wearing one of these nasty things.
Of course they’re grotty, you wretched nit! That’s why they were designed.
-But that’s what you’ll want. -I won’t.
-You can be replaced, chicky baby. -I don’t care.
And that pose is out too, Sunny Jim.
The new thing is to care passionately and be right wing.
Anyway, if you don’t cooperate, you won’t meet Susan.
And who’s this Susan when she’s at home?
Only Susan Campey, our resident teenager.
You’ll have to love her. She’s your symbol.
You mean that posh bird who gets everything wrong?
I beg your pardon?
The lads frequently sit round the television and watch her for a giggle.
Once we wrote these letters saying how gear she was and all that rubbish.
She’s a trendsetter. It’s her profession.
She’s a drag. A well-known drag.
We turn the sound down on her and say rude things.
-Get him out of here. -Have I said something amiss?
He’s mocking the program’s image.
-Sorry about the shirts. -Get him out!
You don’t think he’s a new phenomenon, do you?
You mean an early clue to the new direction?
Where’s the calendar?
No. It’s all right. He’s just a troublemaker.
The change isn’t due for three weeks yet.
All the same, make a note not to extend Susan’s contract.
Let’s not take any unnecessary chances.
So I explained to my mommy he was a very clean man.
There’s no one here.
Where have they gone?
Surely, that’s wrong, isn’t it? Not you.
Get him out!
Someone’s coming! Quick, hide!
Stop being taller than me.
It’s not my fault.
Right on time.
-What are you doing here? -Hiding.
-You must be soft or something. -We weren’t hiding. We were resting.
I thought I told you lot to stay here.
When I say stay put, I mean stay put.
Don’t cane me, sir. I was led astray.
Shut up, John. They’re waiting for you in the studio.
Gear, I’m dying to do a bit of work.
God bless you, Ringo.
-Teacher’s pet. -Crawler.
-Betrayed the class, eh? -Lay off.
-Temper! -Well!
Get a move on, they’re waiting for you!
Sorry.
I now declare this bridge open.
Where are they?
Where are they?
Where are they?
They’re coming.
They’re coming. I promise you.
If they’re not on this floor in thirty seconds there’ll be trouble.
Understand me?
Trouble.
Standing about?
-Some people have it dead easy. -Once your over thirty, your past it.
It’s a young man’s medium. I just can’t stand the pace.
-As young as that, then? -I was.
There he goes. Look at him. Bet his wife doesn’t know about her.
If he’s got one. Look at his sweater.
You never know. She might have knitted it.
She knitted him.
Run through your number and try not to jiggle out of position.
Hello, three? Coming to you.
Three? Three? Coming to you. Three?
We are on three.
-What? -We’re on three.
Oh, yes.
Music.
Thank you. Very nice.
-Make-up? -Not really. They don’t need any.
-We’ll powder them off for the shine. -Yes.
Norm, take them down to Make-up and powder them off. The shine, you know.
Sure.
You blinked!
Your grandfather’s not talking to me. I think he’s got a sulk on.
It must be catching on. He’s given it to Ringo here.
-Stop picking on him. -I don’t need you to protect me.
Got a touch of the swine fever, haven’t you?
Come on, lads. Sit down.
This is impossible. We’ll never get them all done in time.
Then do us first. It doesn’t matter to them whether they’re made up or not.
By the way, what’s that?
My name’s Betty.
Do you want a punch up your frogged tunic?
John, behave yourself or I’ll murder you.
Shake, take that wig off. It suits you.
Ringo, what are you up to?
Page five.
You always fancied yourself as a guardsman, didn’t you?
“That this too too solid flesh would melt.”
You won’t interfere with the rugged concept of my personality, will you?
QUEEN
He’s reading “The Queen”. That’s an in-joke, you know.
It’s my considered opinion that you’re a bunch of sissies.
You’re just jealous.
Leave him alone, Lennon, or I’ll tell them all the truth about you.
-You wouldn’t. -I would, though.
Lookit, I thought I was supposed to be getting a change of scenery…
…and so far I’ve been in a train and a room…
…and a car and a room and a room and a room.
Maybe that’s all right for a bunch of powdered gewgaws like you.
But I’m feeling decidedly straight-jacketed.
What a clean old man.
Don’t press your luck.
He’s sex-obsessed. The older generation leading this country to galloping ruin.
What’s a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?
They’re nearly ready for you, lads. Just finishing the band call.
I say, did you go to Harrod’s?
I was there in fifty-eight, you know.
-I can get you on the stage. -How?
Turn right at the corridor and go past the fireplace.
I don’t like yours.
Kids, I got an idea.
Why don’t we do the show right here?
Two, three, four.
Very good, that, George.
We’re trying.
-You’re trying. Let’s go. -That was great, lads.
You’ve got about an hour, but don’t leave the theater.
Where are you going, John?
She’s gonna show me her stamp collection.
So’s mine.
John, I’m talking to you.
This final run-through is important, understand? lmportant!
I want a cup of tea!
Shake?
I gotta adjust the decibels on the imbalance, Norm.
Clever. George?
Ringo, look after him, will you?
Aw, Norm!
Do I have to raise my voice?
All right. Come on, Granddad.
I’m a drummer, not a wet nurse. Why does it have to be me?
Look at him sitting there with his hooter scraping away at that book.
Well, what’s the matter with that?
Have you no natural resources of your own?
Have they even robbed you of that?
You can learn from books.
You can, can you?
Sheeps heads!
You could learn more by getting out there and living.
Out where?
Any old where!
But not our little Richard. Oh, no.
When you’re not thumping them pagan skins…
…you’re tormenting your eyes with that rubbish.
Books are good.
Parading’s better.
Parading?
Parading the streets…
…trailing your coat, bowling along, living!
-Well, I am living. -You? Living?
When was the last time you gave a girl a pink-edged daisy?
When did you last embarrass a sheila with your…
…cool appraising stare?
You’re a bit old for that sort of chat, aren’t you?
At least I’ve got a backlog of memories.
All you’ve got is that book!
Stop picking on me. You’re as bad as the rest of them.
So you are a man after all!
What’s that mean?
Do you think I haven’t noticed?
Do you think I wasn’t aware of the drift?
You poor, unfortunate scruff.
They’ve driven you into books with their cruel, unnatural treatment…
…exploiting your good nature.
I don’t know.
Sure, that lot’s never happier unless they’re jeering you.
Where’d they be without the steady support of your drum beat…
…that’s what I’d like to know.
Yeah, that’s right.
And what’s it all come to in the end?
Yeah, what’s in it for me?
A book.
Yeah, a blooming book!
When you could be out there betraying a rich American widow…
…or sipping palm wine in Tahiti before you’re too old like me.
Funny, being middle-aged and old…
…takes up most of your time, doesn’t it?
You’re only right.
Where are you going?
I’m going parading before it’s too late.
-Do you know what just happened to me? -No, I don’t.
Stop looking so scornful. It’s twisting your face.
Tell you about–
Here he is, the middle-aged boy wonder.
I thought you were looking after the old man.
We’ve only half an hour till the final run-through. He can’t walk out on us.
Can’t he? He’s done it, son.
-You know what happened? -We know.
-Your grandfather stirred him up. -He hasn’t.
Yeah, he filled his head with notions, seemingly.
The old mixer! Come on, we’ll have to put him right.
Can we have all dancers on stage for rehearsal, please?
Split up and look for him.
We’ve become a limited company.
I’ll look in here again.
WE BUY ANYTHING
-Hello, there. -Get out of it, Shorty.
You should have more sense than to go round chucking bricks about!
Southerner!
That’s my hoop! Stop playing with it!
That no hoop, it’s a lethal weapon. Have you got a license for it?
Don’t be so stroppy!
A boy your age bowling hoops at people.
-How old are you? -Eleven.
I bet you’re only ten and a half.
Ten and two-thirds.
There you are, then, and don’t be bowling people.
You can have it. I’m packing it in. It depresses me.
-You what? -It gets on me wick.
-Why aren’t you at school? -I’m a deserter.
Are you, now?
-I’ve blown school out. -Just you?
No. Ginger, Eddie Fallon and Ding Dong.
-Ding Dong bell, eh? -That’s right.
They were supposed to come with us, but they chickened.
They’re your mates?
-Not much cop without them, is it? -It’s all right.
What’re they like?
Ginger’s mad. He says things all the time.
-Eddie’s good at spitting and punching. -How about Ding Dong?
He fancies himself. It’s all right though, he’s one of the gang.
Why aren’t you at work?
I’m a deserter, too.
Charlie!
See you.
Come in, number seven, your time’s up!
I’m sorry, boys. I didn’t mean it, honest.
If he says that again, I’ll strike him.
They’re good lads. They’ll be back.
Yes, but we’ve only twenty minutes to the final run-through.
I meant no harm. I was trying to encourage Ringo to enjoy himself.
God knows what you’ve unleashed on the unsuspecting South.
It’ll be wine, women and song all the way when he gets the taste for it.
That was fresh this morning. Two and nine.
Right! On your way!
-You what? -You heard.
On your way, troublemaker.
Watch it!
-What? -Worry, will you?
That’s it, two minutes to the final run-through.
-They’re bound to miss it now. -I’ll murder that Lennon!
-We could survive a missed run-through. -As long as they head up for the show?
You’re right, I wouldn’t do to miss the show.
Shut up, cheerful.
You don’t think–
-Don’t worry. -They can’t do this to me!
It’s all your fault.
-Me? -Yes, it is.
If they don’t turn up, I wouldn’t be in your shoes–
For all the tea in China. Neither would l.
-You dirty traitor! -Well, of course.
Yes, of course.
-Did you want something? -I could eat the lot of you.
You’d look great with an apple in your gob.
Do you realize you could have missed the final run-through?
We’re sorry about that.
Norm? There’s only three of them.
We were looking for Ringo, but we realized he must have come back here.
Would you realize that we’re on the air…
…live, in front of an audience in 45 minutes and you’re one short?
Control yourself. He must be here somewhere.
We’ll look in the dressing room.
Yes, to the dressing rooms.
Where’s me grandfather?
-He can look after himself. -I suppose so.
Personally signed and hand-written by your own sweet boys!
The chance of a lifetime!
Be the envy of your less fortunate sisters!
Me photos! Where’s me hat?
Break it up! Move up!
Come on, move along.
Why don’t you go?
-Will you just move along? -They’ll take you apart if you stay.
I’ll have the law on you!
Let’s take you in.
Thank you.
Got you! You nasty little person, you.
You what?
I’m Ringo Starr! I’ve got a show to do. I’m on in a few minutes.
You’ve got to let me go. I’m Ringo!
That’s what they all say.
I don’t care who you are. You can save that for the stipendiary.
Here you are, Sarge.
-What is he? -I’ve got a little list here.
“Wandering abroad, malicious intent, acting in a suspicious manner…
…conduct liable to cause a breach of the peace.”
-You name it, he’s done it. -A little savage, is he?
-A proper little aborigine. -I demand to see my solicitor.
What’s his name?
If you’re going to get technical about it.
It’s going to be one of those nights, is it?
Sit Charlie Peace down over there.
You got me here, so do your worst!
But by God, I’ll take one of you with me.
I know your game!
You’ll get me into tiled room and then out come the rubber hoses!
There’s a fire, is there?
You ugly, great brute!
You have sadism stamped all over your bloated British kisser!
I’ll go on hunger strike!
I know your caper.
The kidney punch and the rabbit-clout…
…and the size twelve boot ankle-tap.
What’s he on about?
I’m a soldier of the Republic!
You’ll need a mahogany truncheon on this boy-o.
A nation once again
A nation once again
Get Lloyd George over there next to the mechanic in the cloth cap…
…and I’ll sort this lot out.
Come on, Dad. Sit down over here.
Ringo, me old scout, they grabbed your leg for the iron too.
I’m not exactly a voluntary patient.
Have they roughed you up yet? -What?
They’re a desperate crew of drippings and they’ve fists like matured hams…
…for pounding poor, defenseless lads like you.
One of us has got to escape. I’ll get the boys.
-Hold on, son, I’ll be back for you. -For me?
And if they get you on the floor, watch out for your brisket.
They seem all right to me.
That’s what they want you to think. All coppers are villains.
Would you two like a cup of tea?
You see? Sly villains.
No, thank you, Mister Sergeant, sir.
No, not for me. Please, don’t.
So you just brought the old chap out of the crowd for his own good?
He was getting a bit nasty, so we had to bring him in.
He can’t stop here.
This is the stuff he’s been hawking round?
-Yes, Sarge. Photographs. -Photographs.
Well, son, it’s now or never.
Johnny McCartney will give you a run for your threepence ha’penny!
You forgot your photographs.
Only half an hour and you’re on.
-Can I say something? -Yes, anything.
It seems highly unlikely we’ll be on.
I mean, the law of averages are against it.
If you could get the juggler on with a couple more clubs…
…that would fill in a bit of time.
You can’t go in here.
I’ll have the hides of you lot.
You ought to be ashamed of yourself. Go home.
-I must see Pauly. -Go home and see him on the telly.
-Can you fix him for me? -Yeah.
Sixpence.
-Each. -In advance.
Mercenaries.
It’s all right. Leave him alone.
What’s happening here?
Paul, where are you?
Granddad, where’s Ringo?
The police have the poor, unfortunate lad in the Bridewell.
-The police station! -He’ll be pulp by now.
-Go get him! -We’ll get him. We’ll fix it, Norm.
We’ve only got twenty minutes.
What is all this?
Hold on until we get our breath.
Are you all right now?
Yeah.
-Yeah? -See you.
Quick, follow them!
I’d have to laugh even when they kick the stool away.
Lads! You’re back, thank goodness. Where’s Ringo?
-There he is. We got him. -Great!
If you hadn’t come back it would have meant…
…the epilogue or the news in Welsh for life.
Aren’t you supposed to be in that box?
Where’s the old mixer?
Here, Pauly.
I’ve got a few words to say to you, two-faced John McCartney.
Leave him alone. He’s back, isn’t he? It’s not his fault he’s old.
What’s old got to do with it? He’s a troublemaker and a mixer.
You’re right, but he’s only asking for attention.
Your trouble is you should have gone west to America.
You would have been a senior citizen of Boston.
You took a wrong turn and you’re a lonely old man from Liverpool.
Well, I’m clean.
Are you?
-Norm? -What?
-I’ve been thinking, it’s not my fault. -What isn’t?
I’m not taller than you are. You’re smaller than I am.
Anyone at home?
Shake, where’s me boot?
-Will you get us some tea? -All right.
Lads, get changed. We’re going out in five minutes.
I’ve got the stuff. Come on, lads.
Aren’t we going–
The office thinks it’s best if we go to Wolverhampton straight away.
-Tonight? We’ll never make it. -You’ve got a midnight matinee.
There’s only one thing I’ve got to say to you, John Lennon.
-What? -You’re a swine.
Come on, you’re hanging up the parade!
Get rid of those things.

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