Subtitles by MemoryOnSmells http://UKsubtitles.ru.
There's never been a better time to be a single man in England.
You should be arrested for saying that in a time of war.
What war? Oh, Bert, the war. The World War.
It's the First World War.
Got it. I hear that mentioned a lot actually.
It's very much news.
What goes somewhat unreported is the very good female-to-male
ratio in the country at the moment.
Whoever this war turns out to be against... Germany.
For example, it gets the thumbs up from me.
Hello, boys! Oh, no.
Here they are, looking nervous. "Ooooh, pick me! Pick me!"
Who will Bert choose in the end?
Still here then?
Rather than participating in the murder of our fellow human beings, you mean?
Good idea, George, kick the hornet's nest! What's going on here then?
We're voting to decide who should be the Guy we burn on Bonfire Night.
Oh, look how well I'm doing.
Don't get too excited, Bert.
They're essentially voting for the most hated man in the village.
Right. Why am I on the same number of votes as these two?
I went to sign up.
Oh, so you're in the army then? Sorry, how's the battle going?
What's the grub like in mess?
Yes, Nellie, as we've discussed perhaps 15-to-25 times,
I was turned down because of my flat feet.
Bollocks. Twat feet more like. Feet are flat. Paddle feet.
Mature response as ever.
You were pretty quick to move in with your two lover boys.
Because my so-called sister here got me kicked out of the family house.
Nobody got you kicked out, Cecil.
Mum and I just assumed that since you'd be going to war, we could clear your room.
And move all your stuff out of it and put it in the street,
and get rid of your bed and hold a cleansing ceremony in which
all of your personal effects were thrown into the sea. That's all.
Well, it's persecution.
I believe in this war and I want to help.
Rubbish.
If you were really keen to help,
you'd have killed yourself to raise morale.
Or you could join that... and darn socks. We'd respect you then.
Don't go overboard, Nellie.
Sorry, not respect. Less enthusiastically despise.
Whoops.
Dear God, a knitting club?
Why don't I shave my legs and do the laundry while I'm at it?
Feel free to do some of the laundry.
I just wish Rittle had a bomb factory.
But no, the bomb factory goes to the village of Frew,
because they've done so much to deserve it!
Ooooh, love Frew.
What do you mean, you love Frew?
Lovely pub. That's a myth, by the way.
It's a poor man's Frog and Pea.
Very peaceful. Exactly.
Pensioners... go there to die.
Wouldn't mind dying there.
Wouldn't be protesting too loudly
if I expired suddenly in the Frew Tea Rooms.
Overlooking Parson's Hill? Oh, yes, it's a terrible demise.
You wouldn't really want to produce bombs, would you, Cecil?
Oh, come on.
Even as a pacifist, I think you have to admit these
bombs are pretty amazing. They showed in tests,
one bomb can tear through about seven cows.
That's not amazing, and they sound like a terrible sort of test.
Can you watch the tests? No, Bert.
OK, better idea then.
The three of us go on a bike ride to Frew.
I feel like Frew is getting more of a mention now than it should.
I mean, it is honestly fairly shit.
Ahh, I can't do this.
Will you help me, George?
Go on, run to your master.
Was that a distress signal from the HMS Fiancee?
Is a rescue dinghy required?
I'm doing this scheme where single women... Hm.
Write romantic letters to men at the front.
It keeps their morale up, hearing from a young lady wishing them well.
Errr, interesting.
Umm, the thing is, I don't want to be Barnaby Boring,
but should you be involved in a scheme like that,
given that we're...?
You know...
Not married yet.
Yeah, engaged to be married.
Weird way of putting it. Well, I did wonder about that,
but Agnes said that it's our duty, as single women...
There it is again.
To motivate the men at the front by arousing them sexually.
Now are you going to help me do that or not?
Um, the thing is, Winky, I just sort of feel like this is
the kind of thing that other men wouldn't do.
Well, George, you shouldn't be led by other people.
You should follow your own heart.
I also don't want to do it.
What's happened here? Is it under new management or something?
Barney's daughter's taken it over while he's in France.
Oh, is he on holiday? No, Bert, the war...
The war, the war, I know.
I think that's probably enough now, darling.
George, have you talked about Winky's bottom because it will be
a glaring omission if you fail to bring that up? Bert!
I'm paying her a compliment, George.
If I had a girlfriend with an arse like that,
I'd be preaching about it in the town square.
You're not offended, are you, Winky?
No. I think it's kind of you to notice.
Besides which, I am trying to keep this letter on track.
I mean this man is in a war remember.
Nothing but the most gruesome sexual imagery is gonna make an impact.
Yeah, alright, Bert. And I tell you something else,
this new dress is electrifying.
What do you find attractive about my body, Winky?
How is that to do with the letter? That is literally just flirting.
It's not a bloody free-for-all, Bert.
Bless you, Cecil!
Cecil!
Cecilia!
What is it? What do you want?
Nice sash.
Is that it? Can I go now?
I can't be seen talking to you.
Why? Why do you think?
Bert, people are sacrificing their lives and you've chosen not to.
Right. God. Cryptic. Oh, is it because...?
No, Bert, that is the reason, what I've just said.
I get it. Your new friends don't like the cut of our jib.
Well, I know I can count on you to stand by us, Cecil.
Of course I'm not standing by you, Bert.
Not while I'm trying to establish myself in the needlework guild.
Oh, suddenly it's the "needlework guild."
That's its name, Bert, I didn't make up the name.
What happened to calling it Freak Corner?
I'm assuming that's your name for it, invented just now.
Cecil!
Oh, God, I need to go.
Back to facilitating slaughter.
Just... Yes, I am facilitating it and I bloody love it.
Well, I don't.
At least I'm following through on my beliefs, George.
You're not doing anything. I'm not being violent, that's the point.
It's about what I'm not doing.
I wish you were not talking.
Can that be brought into the mix? I'd get behind that.
Or not sleeping. Why would I do that? Don't know, really.
Just be interesting to see how long you could go without sleeping, I suppose.
My record's five and a half hours.
Enjoying the music, Cecil?
It's alright. Is it?
Nice to have some music while I work, I suppose.
Is it?! So the music is helping your war work.
And how would you react if I told to you that this music currently
playing is in fact Beethoven?
Who is German, Bert.
Sorry, George. What's the significance of the...?
The war is against Germany, Bert. There's a war on, Bert.
Course it is, yes. Good old Beethoven.
No shortage of opinions about Beethoven. What a bloody good...
Man. Man he... is?
Was. Is.
But, yes, the war is awful, isn't it, Cecil,
but I can see the point in it, George.
Yes, you've got our opinions the wrong way round but thank
you for being, as ever, totally open-minded on all possible issues.
The point is, Cecil, I have challenged your perverse hatred
of all things German,
and that is why the music is staying on and playing right to the end.
Can you turn it down a bit? I'll turn it down a bit.
It's still on, is the important thing.
Turn it off, actually. I'll pop it off, but you take my point.
The second movement's considerably worse actually.
It's a real damp squib.
Shut up, George. Shut up, mate. I want total silence for this.
Cecil, stand up. What?
Stand there. What's happening?
I wasn't quite sure how to put this.
I know you've been rolling with the gals from Freak Corner recently
but I wanted to remind you what you have waiting for you here at home.
A coward and a moron.
Here we go.
You should come with a warning, mate, you're that sharp.
Nah, give an old man a break.
You two are the first real friends I've had.
Mmm. Well, yes, I suppose George is your friend.
Ooh, no, no, you're both my very close friends. Well...
I was surprised by the feeling I have towards you
and I didn't know what to call it at first.
It's probably nothing. I'd actually ignore that feeling.
In fact, the only way to explain it is by recourse to that beautiful word.
Oh, no. Love. Oh, Jesus.
I'm in powerful, constant love with both of you.
Bert, just 100% shut up.
It is love, I can tell no lie.
No, it's not quite the same love I feel for a woman.
George, help.
Actually, Cecil, there is nothing new about this sort of thing.
The Ancient Greeks referred to six different sorts of love.
Sure, there's erotic love. Aaaah.
But there's also enduring affection
and I think it's that which Bert is feeling.
It's a mixture.
Anyway you're a great pal, and it'd be a pretty poor show from me if
I didn't stump up for a well-timed gift for my bunged-up buddy.
I don't want a gift from you. It's a handkerchief!
Hmmm, that's annoying. I do need a handkerchief.
If it was anything else, I'd definitely reject it.
Check out the lettering.
Specially made. Thought it could be the group motto.
"Taking it easy, 1914"?
Yeah. "Takin' it easy...1914."
Have you lost your mind?
It's a poorly-chosen motto, Bert, quite frankly.
Think of it as a reminder of our time together.
I don't want a reminder of our time together!
What I'd really like is to perform some process on my own brain whereby
any record of your existence is permanently wrenched from my memory.
Well, maybe that's something we can do together.
No, Bert, tell me something that doesn't involve you,
that's what I want to do.
I could watch you read.
Bert! Explain the idea again.
Just go somewhere else for a bit. OK.
You coming, or...? No!
Have a pleasant evening.
I come bearing gifts.
I've been doing some sewing of my own,
independent of the Needlework Guild.
Sorry, Freak Corner. Sorry, Needlework Guild.
Is that the sort of thing you're looking for as regards a sock?
I've gone for a very classic design.
There's a space inside for the foot and a hole at one end
so the leg can get out.
Bert, if you want to have sex with me, just ask.
Fine. If you won't ask me, I'll ask you.
Will you have sex with me?
Ow! What are you doing?
Sorry, just checking I'm still conscious.
It's not a big deal, Bert.
It just hadn't occurred to me the soldiers would be away for so long.
I hope to have children one day, and since,
if I don't have regular coitus I will become infertile...
Is that true? I'm not sure whether...
But then why take the chance?
And since you're the only man in the village
who isn't either engaged or my brother...
Thank you... it's unfortunately the obvious solution.
My proposition is that we have regular intercourse,
with no obligation to cultivate a relationship or even talk to each other.
You're definitely conscious, Bert. We're both conscious, regrettably.
And it's definitely the deal that we have sex
and don't have conversations, rather than the other way round,
because I have made that mistake before. No, that's it.
Right. Well, I'm just going to say yes at this stage, then possibly
once more in the fire, just to check, and then home to celebrate.
I will need something on the table straight away.
What now?
Crikey.
Right. Well, shall we... get set up?
Don't take your clothes off in front of me.
Right.
I will need to remove a couple of items just to clear a path.
Go in the other room and close the curtains.
Right-o! And will I light a candle?
No, Bert, the aim is to make the room as dark as is humanly possible.
Who needs eyes when you've got hands?
Oh, God.
Winky, my tie, is it too much?
What? The knot.
God, it's too much, isn't it, too obvious?
Um, George, have you seen my...?
I can wear it like this if I want to.
What are you talking about?
I'm talking about my tie. How can you not notice?
I've tied it in a German knot. Der Flomsgemeinre.
Yep, I can't tell the difference.
Are you bloody joking?
It's completely different.
Look at it - two interlocking strands, fastened at the neck,
and then extending down the body to the belly button.
That's what a tie is, mate.
Stick your head in the sand if you like, Cecil.
I'm sending a message to the people of Rittle.
No, you're sending a dirty letter, from your fiancee, to another man.
In fact, allow me.
I'm shaking things up, Cecil. Getting under people's skin.
And let me tell you, there's plenty more to come.
Oh, no. What will he do next? Catch German measles?
Attend a beer festival? Eat some fondue?
Well, that's Swiss.
Yeah, I'm sure you can get fondue in Germany, George.
You made a mistake about the fondue, Cecil, deal with it.
That's your pen. Don't care.
He's got a bloody nerve.
To stand there and insult a man in front of his wife.
Fiancee, I'm not your wife.
Yet.
Mm.
Winky, I said "yet."
I heard you, George.
Looking good.
That should keep us all warm.
Yeah, because we're all so cold.
Might be a bit cold later.
Oh, what, you're in charge of "later"?
Heard you joined the Needlework Guild.
Yeah, yeah, I did.
You're still a piece of shit.
Well done, though, for doing that.
Ah, thanks.
You are still a piece of shit though.
Who was that addressed to?
What?
That letter you just sneezed into and then posted.
Who was it addressed to? Oh, um... some soldier.
A soldier?
Why didn't you use your handkerchief?
You're deliberately infecting our army.
Well, that's insane.
What's going on?
Cecil Mowbray sneezed into an envelope then sent it to the front.
Why didn't you use your handkerchief?
There's a problem with the handkerchief.
What problem?
I can't really say.
You're making it sound like it's my fault you didn't use your handkerchief.
It was your fault. You're just...
You're like gas, Bert,
you sneak under every crevice, and you poison everything.
What are you doing in there, George? Just making room for something.
What have you done now? Bought a German Shepherd?
Ha! Bravo, Cecil! That's priceless.
Shut up, Bert. I've stolen a bomb.
Son of a bitch. Holy crap.
Skipped work. Walked to Frew. Stole a bomb.
Don't say I don't do stuff.
We're going to die!
Now, I'd be happy to answer any remaining questions
you have about how seriously I take my beliefs.
I haven't finished my novel yet,
or seriously considered even writing one!
Gentle George ain't exactly the posing posy you thought he was, huh?
Furball's grown a pair of horns all of a sudden.
How do you like it when I do this?
No, George.
Please, George.
Put your nappies back on, boys. Turns out I'm a little more on top of this stuff, than...
That's alright. Didn't blow. Don't worry, it's perfectly safe.
Oh, God! Blasphemy, Bert, come on.
Murderous, traitorous God! Curse you!
Alright, Bert, rein it in. I'll kill you God!
I'll rip your smug head off your horrid body! Bert, get a grip!
If it bothers you that much, I can get rid of it tomorrow morning.
I'm not sleeping in the same house as that.
Cecil, I walked with this baby for two miles through Frew woods and it didn't explode once.
You could take it to bed with you if you wanted.
Oh, what, how come he gets to?
You've changed your tune, Bert!
Yeah, George has convinced me, to be honest.
If it was gonna explode, it would have done it already.
It probably won't go off now.
Yep. It would be nice to live in a house where there was
a 100% chance of not getting blown up by a bomb, rather than,
say, a 96% chance, but... Bert!
Hello, Mr Bomb, anyone in there?
Deary me, not a great bomb, all told. It's a dud.
Well, that's a disgrace.
Are these the sort of bombs we're supplying to our soldiers?
That's exactly the sort of shoddy workmanship I've come to expect from the village of Frew.
I do not understand your issue with Frew, Cecil.
It's the worst place on the face of the earth.
You watch the sun set over Frew chapel and get back to me on that one, mate.
Chaps, where do you think this bomb would work best?
Definitely keeping it then.
I just think if it was well-placed, it might freshen up the lounge.
I mean, if we thought of this room more as a...
More as a bomb room. Well...
It actually really matches those drapes, Cecil. Just saying.
I finally get those drapes now.
Cecil Mowbray, prepare to burn!
Here we go. Show-time.
Devour him in flames!
Bit of a weird atmosphere, if I'm honest.
You're evil!
Can you believe Hesta had the nerve to ask me
to give her some of your clothes to use on the Guy?
Thanks for not giving her any.
You're welcome.
Did you actually give her some?
Yeah, but only the bare minimum. Shirt, pair of trousers, underpants.
Underpants? And a vest.
Not all of that visible, obviously.
Oh, well, maybe my wardrobe needed an overhaul anyway.
Is that my watch?
You're lucky you're not up there yourself, mate.
That's your honest opinion, is it?
You honestly think I should be burning to death on top of a fire?
I won't speak ill of our present government
but there was a time when it was done -
a golden time -
and there's not a moment that goes by I don't
yearn for a return of those days with every fibre of my being.
Bloody hell.
I used to play badminton with her.
Yeah, you were shit.
And we all sing -
♪ Remember! Remember! Bon Fawkes night! ♪
Agnes, my lily-flower.
Don't call me that. While you're here though, listen.
I've decided that for me - for any woman -
to indulge herself while the men are away, is wrong.
We've all committed to not having sex until the war is over.
Sorry, I had a flash of excruciating pain and everything went dark.
I've lost where we were slightly.
The women are abstaining from sex to show solidarity
with our fighting men.
Rittle will be chaste and pure until the soldiers return.
So I've got to wait till the soldiers get back to have sex with you?
No, I've got to the wait till the soldiers get back to have sex
with one of the soldiers.
For you, sex is off the cards for the foreseeable future.
Gracie around or...? Can't see that happening, Bert.
All my friends all feel the same way as me.
You're friends with everyone and control what they think, do you?
Last time I checked.
Water, water everywhere and no sex for Bert.
Was it really necessary to make a spare?
One for burning, one for beating.
Oh, second Guy, eh? Very profesh.
Something for the latecomers. Join in, boys.
Oh, Cecil, can I?
If you must.
I'm staying out of this.
I'm not beating myself up, not literally anyway.
I am looking forward to this war being over.
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