[gentle instrumental music]
♪ ♪
[whistle tweeting]
[train chugging]
[train whistle toots]
[people speaking indistinctly]
I returned to London in the spring of 1926
for the General Strike.
It had been the topic of Paris.
The French, exultant as always
at the discomfiture of their former friends,
foretold revolution and civil war
until I and several friends in circumstances like my own
came seriously to believe that our country was in danger
and our duty lay there.
We were joined by a Belgian futurist
who lived under the, I think, assumed name
of Jean de Brissac la Motte
and claimed the right to bear arms
in any battle anywhere against the lower classes.
Good morning, Father.
Oh, dear.
Well, it's delightful to see you back so soon.
How long have you been away?
15 months, Father.
Really?
Well, you come at a very awkward time, you know.
They're having another of those strikes in two days.
Such a lot of nonsense.
I don't know when you'll be able to get away.
I wasn't proposing to get away, Father.
I don't think you understand.
That's the reason I'm here, the strike.
I see.
I know you've been living abroad.
Have you now become a revolutionary?
No, Father.
I was thinking of delivering food
to places where they might need it,
that sort of thing.
Well, Mrs. Abel has reported no shortage in Bayswater.
Are you quite suited to this operation?
You have no military training.
You have no experience of mass provisioning.
You seem to be bent on a most headstrong course.
That's it, gents.
You and you, sir?
Move forward, please,
and report inside.
My deputy's just round the door taking particulars.
That's it, gents.
No more needed today.
Thank you very much.
[all talking at once]
Is there absolutely nothing else?
I've come all the way from France.
You could try Clapham and Southwark.
And I did hear yesterday they were short down at Rotherhithe.
We're chockablock here.
You can come back tomorrow.
Come back tomorrow.
Thank you very much.
Thank you.
All right, here.
[people shouting indistinctly]
Mulcaster!
My God, excellent indeed.
That taught 'em.
Hello, Boy.
Charlesl
Charles Ryder!
Good Lord.
What are you doing here?
Did you see that?
Damn close shave out there.
Bloody Redsl.
What are you in, Charles?
Nothing yet. I can't get in.
They're full up here.
Oh, rubbishl.
Come and join our lot.
Bill Meadows show.
Damn fine crowd.
All good chaps in the Defence Corps.
Hear.
We do the milk run.
Can I join?
Of course you can.
My dear fellow, absolutely delighted.
Come and get kitted out.
Come to the office.
I say, who is Bill Meadows?
So I was enrolled in the Defence Corps.
I took my oath of loyalty and was given a truncheon.
[clock chiming]
I'll come up again this afternoon and sit with her.
I don't mind staying with her right through.
I'd like to.
Why don't you have a break?
Well, we'll see.
I'll look in anyway.
How's she been?
She slept for an hour and a half.
She had another injection.
Does she seem in much pain?
Yes.
But I think she'd rather be conscious.
Have you heard from Charles?
He's definitely back in England.
He was out. I left a message.
Good.
I'll see you later.
- Mr. Mottram's here, milady. - Thank you, Albert.
I've got the minister outside. I can't stay.
We're off to the gas depot.
How is she?
Can I go up and see her for a minute?
She's too ill to see anyone at the moment, Rex.
Oh.
Oh. Oh, I'm sorry.
I don't know when I'm going to get the chance to call in again.
Things are getting a bit rough.
I'm on call all night.
If there's any change in your mother's condition,
telephone me at the home office.
What about Sebastian?
I've got someone at the foreign office,
and they've begun to make inquiries.
And?
Don't worry, darling.
It's a busy time.
Give it a day or two. They'll find him.
Say hello to your mother.
Bye.
[men shouting indistinctly]
Two teas, my dear.
Oh, thank you.
This'll help you through, Charles.
Cup of tea, love.
If I were you, I'd take my advice
and avoid the Commercial Road.
From all reports, they're having a bit of a fracas down there.
I say, did you hear that, chaps?
They're having a bit of a fracas down the Commercial Road.
Come on. All aboardl
[shouts indistinctly] Come onl
[horn blowing]
[people shouting angrily]
[suspenseful music]
♪ ♪
[men shouting angrily]
[horn honking]
What are you doing tonight?
Nothing in particular. Why?
My sister says that Nancy Tallboys
is having a bloody great party.
Yes, I heard. You going?
Rather.
Everyone says it's going to be an absolute riot.
[trucks honking]
[shouting]
[yelling]
Men: ♪ Marching as to war ♪
♪ With the cross of Jesus ♪
♪ Going on before ♪
[all shouting]
Mulcaster!
Charles, please save mel.
Please, brother, pleasel.
♪ Red-hot Anna ♪
♪ From Savannah ♪
♪ Boy, that's me ♪
♪ I can love in any manner ♪
♪ Boy, that's me ♪
♪ L know things that Theda Bara's ♪
♪ Just started to learn ♪
♪ Make my dresses of asbestos ♪
♪ I'm liable to burn ♪
♪ I can make a preacher ♪
♪ Lose his dignity ♪
♪ Oh, red-hot Anna ♪
♪ That's me ♪
[cheers and applause]
Aren't they d-d-divine?
Aren't they the m-m-most sensational thing
you've ever seen?
Antoinel Good Godl.
That rather p-p-pale one, my dear,
playing the piano
is having a raving affair with Mrs. Arnold Frickheimer.
He conked her on the nut with a b-bottle of milk
only the other m-morning.
It's wonderful to see you again.
It's been a long time.
Oh, I know, Charles.
There you are, the lonely old artist man,
hidden away from us in your P-Parisian garret.
But, Charles, look.
Do you see that b-b-bovine specter that I see?
N-N-No.
They're not animals in the zoo, Mulcaster,
to be g-g-goggled at.
They are artists, my dear,
v-v-very great artists to be revered.
Charlesl.
Thank God there's somebody here I know.
A girl brought me, but I've lost her.
Looked everywhere.
She's given you the slip, my dear.
And do you know why?
Because you look ridiculously out of p-place, Mulcaster.
This isn't your kind of party at all.
You oughtn't to be here.
You ought to g-g-go away, you know,
to the Old Hundredth or some l-l-lugubrious dance
in Belgrave Square.
I've just come from there.
And it's too early for the Old Hundredth.
No, I think I'll stick around a bit.
Things may jolly up, you know.
I spit on you.
Puhl.
Let me talk to you, Charles.
[balloon pops]
[laughter]
You're ridiculousl
[shouting angrily]
Oh, my dear, but white pugilistsl
it's such a surprise seeing you here, Anthony.
I thought you'd still be wandering in the Middle East.
Excuse us, won't you?
Sorry.
I seem to remember seeing a rather gruesome photograph
of you and Sebastian in Constantinople.
Ahl S-S-Sebastian.
Inevitably, we will talk of Sebastian.
Someone's been sick. Clear it up.
You'll be perfectly safe.
I want a drink.
There's plenty of drinks at my house.
Yes, sure, but I want a drink here.
No, I haven't heard anything of Sebastian for over a year.
Do you see him?
Oh, my dear. He's such a sot.
You know he came to live with me in Marseilles last year
when you threw him over?
And, really, it was as much as I could stand.
Sip, sip, sip.
Like a d-dowager all day long.
And so sly.
I was always missing little things, my dear,
things I rather liked, including two very pretty suits.
Of course, I didn't know it was Sebastian at first.
There were some rather queer fish, my dear,
in and out of my little apartment.
But who knows b-better than you my t-taste for queer fish.
Well, eventually, I found out that Sebastian
had been p-p-popping them at the p-pawn shop
and then, my dear,
that he had sold the tickets at the bistro.
It's never much of a success when Sebastian stays with you,
is it, Anthony?
Now, Charles,
I know that p-puritanical d-disapproving look in your eye.
You think I l-lead the p-poor boy on, don't you?
You did in Athens, by all accounts.
Hmm, that's one of Sebastian's less lovable qualities.
He always g-gives the impression of being led on,
like a little horse at a circus.
So there's still no stopping him?
My dear, I did everything I could.
I said to him again and again, "Why drink?"
if you want to be intoxicated,
there are so many much more delicious things to do.
Never seen you before.
Never asked you.
Who are all these white trash anyway?
Seems to me I must have come to the wrong house.
It's a time of national emergency, my dear.
Anything may happen.
I think Africa must be deserted.
Never mind.
You and I, Charles,
had a good innings today
defending the old country.
That's the great pity of it, you know.
You and I are too young to fight in the war.
Other chaps fought.
Millions of them dead.
Not us.
We showed them today, though.
We showed those dead chaps we can fight too.
And you came all the way from Paris.
Damn good. Damn good.
Came from overseas.
Rallying round the country in her hour of need.
Like the Australians.
Like the poor, dead Australians.
Is the party going well?
Do you think Florence Mills would sing again?
I know you. We've met before.
Awful, my dear.
But you never asked me tonight.
Perhaps I don't like you.
I thought I liked everyone.
Do you think it might be witty to give the fire alarm?
Oh, yes, Boy. Do run away and ring it.
Cheer things up.
Exactly.
You're a very naughty girl,
and you're going to be spankedl.
So then we left Marseilles and went to Tangier.
And th-there, my dear,
Sebastian took up with his new friend.
Who's that?
Well, how can I describe him?
He's-he's like the footman in Warning Shadows,
a great c-clod of a German
who'd been in the foreign legion.
He got out by shooting off his b-big toe.
It still hadn't healed.
Where did they meet?
Sebastian found him starving,
touting for one of the houses in the Casbah,
and brought him back to stay with us.
It was too macabre.
So back I came to dear old England, my dear.
[applause]
So where's Sebastian now?
I think he and his lame chum went off to French Morocco.
They were in trouble with the Tangier police
when I left.
Oh.
Lady Marchmain has been a positive pest
ever since I got back to London,
trying to make me get in touch with them.
What a time that poor woman's going through.
Well, it only shows there's some justice in life.
[bell ringing]
I've done it.
You see that girl with that black fella?
That's the girl who brought me.
Oh, she seems to have f-f-forgotten you now.
[all screaming]
Come on, Charles.
I've had enough of all this.
[balloon pops]
If you'd be good enough to wait in here, sir,
I'll tell Lady Julia you've arrived.
Thank you, Wilcox.
I went to Marchmain House on the first morning of peace.
Julia had telephoned
to say that her mother was anxious to see me.
I waited for her in the library overlooking Green Park.
Charles.
It's sweet of you to come.
Mummy's kept asking for you,
but I'm afraid she won't be able to see you now after all.
She's just said good-bye to Sir Adrian Porson,
and it's tired her.
Good-bye?
Yes, she's dying.
She may live a week or two, or she may go at any minute.
She's very frail.
I can tell you what she wanted.
Let's go somewhere else. I hate this room.
First, I know Mummy wanted to say
how sorry she is she was so beastly to you
last time you met.
She's spoken of it often.
She knows now she was wrong about you.
I'm quite sure you put it out of your mind immediately
and understood,
but it's the sort of thing Mummy can never forgive herself.
It's the sort of thing she so seldom did.
Please tell her I do understand.
The other thing, of course, you've guessed.
Sebastian.
She wants him.
I don't know if that's possible. Is it?
Well, I hear he's in a pretty bad way.
We heard that too.
We sent a cable to the last address we had,
but there was no answer.
There still may be time for him to see her.
I thought of you as the only hope
as soon as I heard you were in England.
Will you try and get him?
It's an awful lot to ask, I know,
but I think Sebastian would want it too, if he knew.
I'll try.
I'll certainly try.
There's no one else we could ask.
Rex is so busy.
Yes.
I heard reports of all he's been doing,
organizing the gas works.
Oh, yes.
He's made a lot of kudos out of the strike.
Needless to say,
Bridey has stayed very aloof from it all.
- Oh? - You can guess, can't you?
He says he's not satisfied with the justice of the cause.
Thank you.
I'm very sorry to have missed Cordelia.
I sent her up to bed.
She was up all night with Mummy.
Will you give her my love?
Good-bye, Charles.
Good-bye, Julia.
And thank you.
I'll telegraph if I have any news.
Air France ran a service of a kind to Casablanca.
There, starting at dawn,
I had taken the bus to Fez.
[speaking foreign language]
[bleating]
I had telephoned to the British consul
and arranged to have lunch on my arrival.
There's a war going on not 30 miles from this house,
though you might not think it.
Yes, I had heard,
but it's difficult to believe sitting here.
We had some young fools on bicycles only last week
who'd come to volunteer for the Abdul's army.
It sounds as if you've got a pretty tricky situation.
The Moors are a tricky lot.
They don't hold with drink,
and our young friend, as you may know,
spends most his day drinking.
Sign there, will you?
Of course.
What does he want to come here for?
There's plenty of room for him in Rabat or Tangier
where they cater to tourists.
He's taken a house in the native town, you know.
I tried to stop him,
but he got it from a Frenchman in the Department of Arts.
I don't say there's any harm in him,
but he's an anxiety.
The French don't understand him at all.
They think that anyone who's not engaged in trade
is a spy.
It's not as though he lives like a milord.
Did you know there's someone living with him?
Someone sponging on him?
Yes, I had heard about someone.
Whether this is the same person-
- Such an awful fellow,
a German out of the Foreign Legion,
a thoroughly bad lot by all accounts.
Bound to be trouble.
Mind you, I like Flyte.
I don't see much of him.
He used to come here for baths twice a week
before he got fixed up at his house.
He was always perfectly charming.
My wife took a great fancy to him.
What he needs is an occupation.
Well, if I can persuade him to come back to England,
I'll get him off your hands.
In fact, sir, I think I should really be getting along now.
Oh, yes, of course.
You'll probably find him at home now.
Goodness knows no one goes out much in the siesta.
Look, if you like,
I'll send the porter to show you the way.
Morocco was a new and strange country to me.
Now in the walled city
where the dust lay thick among the smooth paving stones,
where the air was scented
with cloves and incense and wood smoke,
I knew what had drawn Sebastian here
and held him so long.
My guide was from the Sudan police
and regarded this ancient center of his culture
as a New Zealander might regard Rome.
Very dirty people.
No education.
French leave them dirty.
Not like British peoples.
My people is British peoples.
Me in Sudan police.
House of British lord.
[speaking foreign language]
You go with this native fellow.
Thank you very much.
[jazzy music playing]
♪ ♪
Excuse me.
I'm looking for Sebastian Flyte.
This is his house, is it not?
[lisping] Yes.
But he's not here.
There's no one but me.
I've come from England to see him
on rather important business.
I wonder, could you tell me when he'll be back?
[music stops]
Sebastian's sick.
The brothers took him away to the infirmary.
Maybe they'll let you see him.
Maybe not.
I got to go there myself one day soon
to get my foot dressed.
I'll ask them.
When he's better,
maybe they'll let you see him.
[jazzy music playing]
♪ ♪
Beer?
Thank you.
You're not Sebastian's brother?
His cousin maybe?
I think maybe you married his sister.
No. We're just friends.
We were at university together.
I had a friend at the university.
He studied history.
My friend was cleverer than l.
A little weak fellow.
I would pick him up and shake him when I was angry
but so clever.
Then one day, we said,
"What the hell?
"There's no work in Germany.
"Germany is down the drain.
We must be soldiers."
So we joined the Legion.
My friend died of dysentery last year
campaigning in the Atlas.
When he was dead,
I said,
"What the hell?"
So I shot my foot!
It is now full of pus,
though I have done it one year.
Yes. That's very interesting.
But my immediate concern is with Sebastian.
I wonder if you could tell me something about him.
Well, he's a very good fellow, Sebastian.
He is all right for me.
Tangier was a stinking place.
He brought me here.
Nice house, nice food, nice servant.
Everything is all right for me here, I reckon.
I like it all right.
Sebastian-
his mother's very ill.
That's what I've come to tell him.
She rich?
She is.
Then why don't she give him more money?
Then we could live at Casablanca maybe,
in a nice flat.
You know her well?
You could make her give him more money.
What exactly is the matter with Sebastian?
I don't know.
I reckon maybe he drink too much.
The brothers will look after him.
It is all right for him there.
The brothers are good fellows.
Very cheap there.
[claps sharply]
Encore de biere.
You see?
A nice servant to look after me.
It is all right.
I think I'd better see Sebastian straightaway.
Could you tell me where I can find him?
Which hospital is he at?
It's the little one between the old and new town.
It's called St. Sulpice.
Tell Sebastian...
I am still here
and all right.
I reckon he's worrying about me, maybe.
[bead curtain rattling]
[people shouting and moaning]
- Good evening. - Bonsoir.
Your friend Lord Flyte is much better.
En français.
Ah, merci.
Votre ami n'est pas en danger
mais il n'est absolument pas en etat de voyager.
He spoke in French
and to tell me that Sebastian was in no danger
but quite unfit to travel.
He had the grippe,
with one lung slightly affected.
He was very weak.
He lacked resistance.
What could one expect?
He was an alcoholic.
Qu'est-ce que vous voulez dire, Doctor?
C'est un alcoolique.
Un grand alcoolique.
Je vais vous trouver quelqu'un pour vous amener pres de lui.
The doctor spoke dispassionately,
almost brutally,
with the relish men of science sometimes have
for limiting themselves to inessentials,
for pruning back their work to the point of sterility.
Lord Sebastian...
[speaking French]
Merci, Doctor.
[speaking French]
The bearded, barefooted brother
in whose charge I was put,
the man of no scientific pretensions
who did the dirty jobs of the ward,
had a different story.
He's so patient.
Not like a young man at all.
He lies there and never complains,
and there is much to complain of.
As you see, we have no facilities.
The government gives us
what they can spare from the soldiers.
[speaking foreign language]
And he is so kind.
There is a poor German boy
with a foot that won't heal
and secondary syphilis.
He comes for treatment.
Lord Flyte...
Lord Flyte found him starving in Tangier
and took him in and gave him a home.
A true Samaritan.
"Poor simple monk," I thought.
Poor booby.
God forgive me.
Your friend.
Thank you.
[coughing]
Oh.
I thought he meant Kurt.
What are you doing here, Charles?
I've come to find you.
Well, I'll leave you to talk.
I'll come back in a little while.
I saw the doctor.
I must say you're not looking as bad
as I thought you might be.
Over the worst.
Went out of my mind for a day or so.
Pneumonia, so they say.
I kept thinking I was back in Oxford,
which is strange, don't you think?
Since I couldn't really be further away,
could I, Charles?
You've been to the house?
Yes.
Like it?
Yes.
Yes, I've liked everything I've seen.
I do understand what keeps you here.
Kurt still there?
I won't ask you if you like Kurt.
Nobody does.
It's funny.
I couldn't go on without him, you know.
Sebastian, I'm afraid your mother is not very well.
In fact, that's...
the main reason that I'm here.
I think she'd like to see you.
Poor Mummy.
She really was a femme fatale, wasn't she?
She killed at a touch.
What do you want to do?
I don't know.
Let me think about it.
[coughing]
I obviously can't travel at the moment.
No.
Charles, do you think you could do something for me?
Of course.
Well, if you're going to come and see me again,
do you think you could smuggle in a bottle of brandy?
I telegraphed to Julia
that Sebastian was unable to travel,
and I stayed on in Fez, visiting the hospital daily.
Thank you.
On my third day, a telegram arrived from Julia.
Lady Marchmain was dead.
I stayed on in case Sebastian wanted help
getting back to England for his mother's funeral.
Monsieur Ryder!
S'il vous plait.
Es ce que je peux vous parler?
Your friend is drinking again.
An ounce of cognac will not hurt him too much,
but maybe it will make him weaker the next time he is ill.
Then one day, some little thing will carry him away.
Poof!
This is not a home for inebriates.
He must go home at the end of the week.
If you're going to discharge him,
I'll try and stay a few more days.
He'll need someone to see him home.
Your friend is much happier today.
It is like one transfigured.
Do you know why?
He has a bottle of cognac in bed with him.
It's the second I have found.
No sooner do I take one away from him,
he gets another.
He is so naughty.
It's the Arab boys who fetch it for him.
Still,
it's good to see him happy when he was so sad.
Hello. How are you feeling?
Better.
Feeling much better.
Good.
May I?
Sebastian,
now your mother's dead,
do you think of going back to England?
Oh, it would be lovely.
Do you think Kurt would like it?
Oh, for God's sake,
you don't mean to spend the rest of your life with Kurt, do you?
He means to spend it with me.
[lisping] it's all right for him,
I reckon, maybe.
[both chuckling]
I've been to the bank for you.
Try and straighten things out a little.
The bank manager was very helpful.
He says that if I can arrange with your lawyers
for a quarterly allowance to be sent out from England,
you can draw weekly pocket money.
Now, in an emergency, you can draw-
- You know, Charles,
it's really a very pleasant change
when all your life, you've been looked after by people,
to have someone to look after yourself.
Of course, it does have to be someone pretty helpless
to need looking after by me.
[chuckles]
As I was saying, in an emergency,
you can draw reserves from the larger fund.
Now, you've got to convince him it is an emergency.
And you've got to collect the money personally.
Oh, goodl.
Otherwise, Kurt will have me sign a check
for the whole amount when I'm tight.
Then he'll go off
and get into all sorts of trouble.
Where shall I put your case, Sebastian?
[coughing]
Shall I unpack it for you?
No, no, the boy will do it.
It was time you came back.
I need you.
Do you, Kurt?
Yes.
I reckon so.
It's not so good being alone when you're sick.
That boy's a lazy fellow,
always slipping off when I want him.
Once he stayed out all night,
and there was no one to make my coffee
when I woke up.
It's no good having a foot full of pus.
Times l...
I can't sleep good.
Maybe another time,
I shall slip off too
and go somewhere where I can be looked after.
[claps sharply]
You see?
What do you want?
Cigarettes.
There are some in the bag under my bed.
[coughing]
I'll get them for you.
Nol
it's my job.
Yes.
I think that's Sebastian's job.
So I left him with his friend
in the little enclosed house at the end of the alley.
There was nothing more I could do for Sebastian.
His mother was buried that same afternoon
at Brideshead.