[suspenseful music]
No.
No. I have very serious reservations.
-[cat meows] -[closes door]
I have very serious reservations about meeting again.
Yeah.
Yeah, fine.
All right.
Lunchtime, St. James' Park.
Meet me at the bench by the Horse Guards Parade.
Mm.
Then that is the end of it.
[hangs up]
[cat meows]
[suspenseful music continues]
[sighs]
-[radio] Do you have chilblains? -Yes.
Well, blame underfeeding, poor cleansing,
and poor circulation play a part.
Tight boots, and warming the hands and feet at the fire
when they are cold enlarge them.
[exhales]
[gasps]
♪ There is mean things happening in this land ♪
♪ Oh, the rich man boasts and brags ♪
♪ While the poor man goes in rags ♪
♪ There is mean things happening in this land ♪
♪ Too much cotton in our sacks ♪
♪ So we have none on our backs ♪
♪ There is mean things happening in this land ♪
[thump]
[gasping, screaming]
[screaming continues]
[speaks in French] I teach at Lycee La Fontaine.
I've been working there for-- [thump]
[man, in German] Bullshit!
I don't believe you.
[in French] What is the name of the head teacher?
[in German] I saw you yesterday talking to Durant and Balledier.
Do you think we don't know who they are?
[in French] Can't remember the name of the head teacher?
Not a very convincing cover story.
[in French] Of course I remember. Madam Duval.
[man, in German] There's no Madam Duval at the La Fontaine.
Dupont! Madam Dupont.
[in German] Do you really expect me to believe you're telling the truth?
[sighs]
[in English] Let's just stop.
[sighs]
That didn't go very well, did it?
You're very clearly rattled.
Well, one would be rattled, wouldn't one?
You're flinching from me like I'm an actual Nazi
about to cut off your fingers.
I was flinching because you have very bad breath.
[young man chuckles]
Hold out your hand.
This was my first time. I get to have another try, don't I?
[knocking, door clangs open]
-Telephone call for you, Brigadier. -What are you smiling about?
[footsteps departing]
Hey Feef, you okay? You did good.
Hmm?
-[Feef] The war is over. -[birds calling]
I can't believe it.
How long do you think it will take before I have an American accent?
-Why? -After I get to Iowa.
I don't think my wife would like you very much.
[chuckles]
I don't want the war to be over.
-Me neither. -[both chuckle]
We're the worst two people in the world.
Was I going to be an agent?
Probably.
Even though I'm not terribly good at being interrogated.
Most people aren't good at it the first time.
That's why they call it training.
-Hmm? -[Feef inhales deeply]
Now we won't be parachuting into France...
Can't hide messages in bicycles, and...
operate a secret radio...
blow up bridges.
And I have to leave this land of umbrella stands
and knitted little hats for teapots.
[both chuckle]
And what will you miss most?
Bad food or the bad weather?
Say I'm going with you.
Just lie.
You're coming with me.
To America.
[screaming]
[panting]
[sobbing]
-[engine thrumming] -[woman laughing]
[both laughing]
-[Feef] Come on, Peter! -No, you first.
[Feef laughs] Come on.
Drop her off, then I'll go on.
[Peter grunts]
[engine turns over]
Can I see a picture of your wife?
It will be easier for me if I understand you're back where you're supposed to be.
[sniffles] Tell Jackson.
-[Peter] Jackson, the war is over. -[Feef] You can go home.
[Peter] We can have the lights on now.
-[man] Whatever it takes! -[cheering and hollering]
I want to talk to you about someone, a girl.
Clever, keen.
Still interested in adrenalizing work.
Hmm...
-For who? For us? -Maybe.
-[drawer hinges]
I haven't approached her. Thought I'd talk to you.
See if you had a spot for her. She's intelligent, pretty...
-talks perfect French. -Yeah? [clears throat]
That fight's over. Does she talk Russian?
Not as far as I know. But...
she loves America. Loves... Americans.
-Trained? -Mostly.
-Disappointed she never got to serve. -Ah.
Mostly trained French speaker you're fucking.
Thanks for the tip.
Seems a waste just to let her be a bureaucrat
in the Civil Service or whatever.
Civil Service? That's perfect.
Yes. The SOE suggested she apply.
[children chattering indistinctly]
[man] Imagine, if you will, an island...
through which a terrible storm has passed.
Prior to the storm, there were huts made from the plentiful supply of palm trees
that grow at the edge of shore.
[train chugging]
The island's canoes, also made from palms, have been destroyed.
[men cheering]
The island's church and schoolhouse,
established by unpopular Christian missionaries,
have also been destroyed.
There are only enough surviving palm trees to house 30 families.
There is another island,
uninhabited, approximately a seven-hour canoe ride away.
Yet a third island, which is inhabited,
approximately a 12-hour canoe ride away.
One canoe can take two adults and requires a single palm tree.
All three islands are British protectorates.
Another storm is due to batter the island in three days' time
and may be worse than the last.
You are in charge.
What do you do?
How significant is the language barrier?
I need a translator.
There's the missionaries.
If everyone hates the missionaries, they're the last people we should use.
How did I get there? And did it involve an aeroplane?
Because I think an aeroplane would be quite useful. [chuckles]
On your original application,
you wrote you were particularly drawn to the civil service
for the possibility of travel.
Which I took to be a not-so-subtle hint
that your real area of interest is simply the foreign office
and the opportunity it affords for...
Well, for getting about.
Well, I do like the idea of travel--
It's actually an incredibly exciting time to be at home.
The country has been flattened, rather. Now we rebuild.
Exciting.
Would you have any moral compunction
if you were to be serving under a socialist government?
-No. -But you yourself--
You do not need to state your political allegiance.
[Feef] I'm a Tory.
But if Mr. Attlee comes to power,
it will be our duty to serve his government.
-He won't come to power. -Elected on the basis
that the poor in this country have had to put up with a damn lot.
-Language! -And...
won't take anymore.
And we must serve them with alacrity.
The point is, we are neutral.
Of course.
[woman] If you aren't accepted here, what will you do?
Anything but go home again.
How's the family?
Yeah? Good.
[honking in the distance]
[bang]
The girl you like, the other girl...
she's in.
[man in bed sighs]
[door squeaks open]
[slams door]
[grunts]
I want to know more about her.
Money?
Her family need it.
Uh, she has a complicated relationship with them, so...
-Ideology? -Basically a Tory, not a Zealot.
Compromise, coercion?
Her brother's probably a homosexual.
Ego?
Adventure. That's the ticket with her.
[suspenseful music]
Let her settle in.
Then we make our move.
The Civil Service?
Sorry, I don't understand. You're going to be a secretary?
Why can't you just meet someone?
Even Freddy has managed to meet someone.
Well, he had to. Otherwise, people would talk.
Shut up, Feef. Hones--
Honestly, she doesn't know anything about anything
and then tries to hide it by talking too much.
[cutlery clinking]
Something wrong with the meat?
I'm vegetarian.
[Father] What?
I'm sorry, I'm vegetarian. I don't eat meat.
[nervous chuckle]
Um...
Hugh is a very fine solicitor that I think will be instrumental
as you make decisions about the house.
Fucking army used the east wing as a barracks.
Treated it appallingly. You will seek compensation
and then fix the bloody roof.
We'll present you with a variety of options.
Including a tax haven.
Always wise.
Little wise if the Socialists get in. Not there's a chance of that.
Freddy is going to replace me in the Commons room.
I shall take my seat in the Lords.
Good luck in the election.
-Thank you. -I'm also running.
For the Labour Party.
[Father] Hmm. You're running for Labour?
[laughter]
They've got no hope.
[Feef] Congratulations.
-What for? -For irritating my father and brother?
-Seems fairly easily done. -[both chuckle]
If you're a socialist,
why are you fiddling my father's taxes anyway?
Don't you want all of his money to go to the poor?
[scoffs]
Well, I can only afford my principles on my day off, unfortunately.
Actually, there is no fiddling your father's taxes.
[Feef] So what will you tell daddy tomorrow?
The cheapest option is to demolish the house.
Gosh.
When someone says something like that,
you expect the sky to fall in or something, don't you?
I'm sorry.
Want to go swimming?
It's not that hot.
I always swim when I'm home.
[chuckles]
Come on, let's just celebrate the end of the war.
You swim.
I'll wait.
Don't bother.
-And when you leave us for London? -[Feef] This afternoon.
-Oh, how terribly exciting. -Very exciting.
Oh, good morning, Ms. Herbert. Lovely to see you.
Morning.
And you've arranged accommodation?
Yes, staying with a college friend initially.
I think we're about done here.
-It's only 11:00, Freddy. -I know, but I'm hungry.
There was some meat at the butcher's. I brought it up.
We can have it for lunch.
Can I induce you to wear one of these, Vicar?
Ah... no.
[sighs]
[Feef] Are you sure this is all right?
[scoffs] Plenty of room for all of us.
[crowd cheering, horns honking]
[door opens]
[man] What's going on?
[Feef] I don't know.
[yawns]
[man] Keep it down, would you?
[woman] What's going on?
[man] The election results are in.
-[woman] Who won? -[man] The bloody Socialists.
[horns honking, crowd chanting]
[crowd] ♪ It shrouded oft our martyred dead ♪
♪ And ere their limbs Grew stiff and cold ♪
♪ Their hearts' blood dyed With every fold ♪
♪ Then raise the scarlet standard high ♪
♪ Beneath it's folds we'll live and die ♪
♪ Though cowards flinch And traitors sneer ♪
♪ We'll keep the red flag flying here ♪
♪ It waved above our infant might ♪
♪ When all ahead seemed dark as night ♪
♪ It witnessed many a deed and vow ♪
♪ We must not change its color now ♪
♪ Then raise the scarlet standard high ♪
♪ Beneath it's folds we'll live and die ♪
♪ Though cowards flinch And traitors sneer ♪
♪ We'll keep the red flag flying here ♪
[man] Hello.
First day. Quite a day. Good luck.
-Can't believe they won. -Remember your interview.
We are neutral. We are neutral...
This is all the data I collected so far about wood.
-Wood? -Wood.
From trees.
Wood builds houses. There is, you may have noticed,
a lack of housing in the United Kingdom as a result of the last six years.
Questions will need to be answered.
What type would be most cost-effective?
Do weather conditions affect the type of wood acquired?
If so, do we need to make logistically specific decisions?
Perhaps you should be writing some of this down.
From where should we access the wood?
East Germany? Scotland?
Consider political as well as practical ramifications.
How much wood should be used in comparison to other building materials?
Is there a different type of information we need to follow up on?
What kind of things do you think is important?
[suspenseful music]
Tonight, Peter. Make it romantic.
You got it.
[Feef] Thank you.
[man] I heard you made it to London.
-I wanted to say hello. -That's very kind of you.
Got the distinct impression the last time we met that you didn't really like me.
Not at all. I like you very much.
Very much. I just, um-- My situation is--
Oh, no, I was being silly. And I've had too much to drink, so...
[laughs] Anyway, congratulations.
Nice seeing you win your seat, and not my brother.
Socialist, eh? It's gonna be impossible to get good service.
[man laughs]
Excuse me.
You know, I'm happy for you and everything,
but I don't think it says very much for the country.
Churchill single-handedly held off the Nazis.
Voting him out of office is a rather peculiar way of showing our appreciation.
Churchill ran the war.
Attlee ran England. He deserves credit too,
he just doesn't have quite the same genius for self promotion.
What a wonderful job Attlee did on the home front.
Keep things going at home. Look, lamb's off, and the beef's off.
All Churchill wants for peacetime is to go back to business as usual.
That's what we all want, isn't it? With meat.
Business as usual before the war was mass unemployment
and the worst slums in Europe.
Obviously some lucky people could afford meat,
but not as many as you might think.
Depends on the circles you travel in, and how limited they are.
Well it doesn't give me much faith in democracy anyway.
People don't know what they need.
I mean, it hardly makes a difference who's at Number Ten,
although I heard Attlee knows nothing about foreign policy.
So, God knows what consequences will be from that.
The beef's off, and the lamb's off.
What a repellently over-privileged universe you come from
if you really believe a vote is something to be thrown away
over a misguided sense of politeness.
Can you excuse me for a second?
I'm going to continue being impolite
and ask if you wouldn't mind if we skipped dinner.
This is a special night for the Labour Party, for the country.
I'm sorry.
[sighs] I thought you were different.
[church bells tolling]
[man] How was your first day?
[both laughing]
Unbelievably boring. [chuckles]
[Peter grunts]
[Feef laughs]
Lay on me.
Stay on top.
You deserve to do great things.
I can make that happen.
I want you to meet someone.
[birds chirping]
Peter tells me you had all the makings of an excellent agent,
but that your career was cut short.
The war ended.
Wars don't end.
Really? Because I definitely attended a couple of victory parties.
[Peter scoffs]
Why do you want to be a special agent?
Seemed insane to sit around and wait to see if we're gonna be invaded or not.
-I hate passivity. -So do I, so does Peter.
Why sit on your ass when you can save the world?
Plus, it's fun. [chuckles]
It's fun being an agent.
So, if wars don't end, who are we fighting now?
I would phrase that question differently. Who's attacking us now?
From whom must we defend ourselves?
Russia's why Attlee won the election. Did you know that?
Not really.
Doesn't it strike you as odd that Churchill,
the most heroic man of the age--
by the way, extremely alert to the Russian threat--
is ousted and suddenly
socialists rule England?
Odd, terrible, baffling, stupid.
It was inevitable.
War left England very weak.
Economically, structurally, psychologically.
And weakness is always exploited.
You see that in nature.
[birds chirping]
Right now, Britain is absolutely at war and the scary thing is...
she doesn't know it.
We believe Whitehall has been infiltrated by Communists.
That's why I need an agent in the Civil Service.
[Feef] But, spy on my own government? What is the name for that?
Peter told me you were prepared to jump out of a plane to save your country.
Yes, but what about MI-5? Six?
Right now, we're standing by a statue of Lenin.
England is way too slow to recognize her enemies.
People around here still call Stalin "Uncle Joe."
Let me tell you something. Uncle Joe's army raped so many women
on their way to Berlin,
that the orphanages have agreed to take children whose mothers are still alive
but can't stand to see their progeny.
He's another psychopath in charge of another army of psychopaths,
and I'd like to stop this one a little more effectively.
Thus, if the Commies are infiltrating the British government,
we'd like to know about it.
England still needs you. She just doesn't know it.
Are you in or out?
Should we shake hands or something?
You have to consider moisture
and movement.
Great Britain is moist.
It is.
Moisture content has got to match the proposed environment.
Or they'll be splitting and warping.
And what about species?
You've got to consider fungal decay.
You have to.
-Fungal decay. -Yes.
[fast-paced, adventurous music playing]
[man] Hurry up, Feef!
[man] Milla!
[tea pouring]
Do you want to see National Velvet this week?
-Harry won't come. -Yes, all right.
-Any night but Wednesday. -I know you love Elizabeth Taylor.
-I do love her hair. -Do you like the book?
-I did, actually. -I tore through it.
Then, according to my mother, you shouldn't see the film.
Elizabeth Taylor is the only English thing in it.
She said the Americans just about destroyed it.
She said it would have been better if they'd just stolen the story
and reset it in...
California or something. [scoffs]
Well, I think we'll see for ourselves, Harry.
Your mother's hardly a noted critic.
My mother, Feef, is a very intelligent woman.
Yes, Camilla raves about her.
I don't think I can do this.
[scoffs] So, what? Now you're out?
I got news for you, bug. If you work for the President,
you're not going to agree with every decision he makes.
This one is particularly egregious.
War is whatever that word was.
Egregious?
No one can sign off on half the shit their country does.
You guys scooped up India and Africa just 'cos you wanted them.
We took out Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
This is the world. It's fucking ugly.
The question isn't "Are you proud of your country?"
but "Are you proud of yourself?"
Are you doing everything you can to make the world a better place?
I'd like to.
Then, do this job...
because you're intelligent,
and intelligence saves lives.
The military rely on Neanderthal tactics, but what we do, what I do,
and what I have invited you to do is use your brain.
And do what you want, but... [scoffs]
opportunities like this don't come along very often.
[Feef chuckles]
Thank God I met you.
[sighs]
I want my life to matter.
Now that the war with Japan is over,
whatever you're working on is to be aborted.
What the fuck?
President Truman is of the opinion that there is no need for field agents
outside of Berlin.
[stuttering] Has anyone been reading my reports?
What I'm working on is a matter of International Security.
All reports have been read.
And the President has determined that a skeletal crew will remain in the UK,
about to receive intelligence from MI-6 only.
As of 1100 hours next Tuesday,
we will commence returning you to the United States.
[door slams] Hey, I'm on your side.
-Meaning? -This will not stand.
Truman's saying this now, but the men with money disagree.
Since when did the men with money share their thinking
with junior diplomats, Jimmy?
Whose chief responsibility is making sure
the right swing band is booked for the right bullshit event?
Let me add a few details to my biography.
Dalton Prep, then Yale.
My family is in shipping and has been since 1759.
Hmm. And you're imparting this to me because?
[unintelligible dialogue]
Disbanding is dangerous.
Clearly you agree with me. You walked out of the meeting.
Not using our own intelligence... Is he out of his mind?
So, fuck that.
[scoffs]
Let's go talk somewhere more private.
[sighs]
Let's drink to a job almost well done.
[glasses clink]
[sniffles]
We could still do it.
They're keeping a skeletal crew.
-Uh... -We sign up, we run our girl.
I'm not doing that. That's... insane.
-An order's been given. -[scoffs] By who?
A draper's son?
Thrust onto the podium by nothing but chance?
Try as he might, the President cannot relocate us to an imaginary universe
where differences are settled by handshakes and jousts.
Listen.
-Let the Brits handle it. -They can't. They're not capable.
They're not capable of winning their own wars.
At the moment, they're not even capable of putting food on the table.
Come on, Peter! Whatever it takes.
-The war is over. -No. That war is over.
Now there's a new one, and it's our duty to fight it.
We're fighting for the same goals, the same dreams.
It's another iteration of the same fucking enemy.
If we don't fight, we won't win. If we don't win, we won't survive.
But if we do win, we could...
tell the President all about it.
We won't get our wrists slapped.
I guarantee it. We'll get medals.
[laughs] I mean, what are you thinking? Just...
you and her against the Russians?
And Jimmy.
Jimmy's a sleaze.
[clears throat]
I'm not going to...
tell anyone about this conversation.
[clicks tongue] And I am not going to mention....
that you...
suggested insurrection and that Jimmy should lose his job.
What I am going to do is...
call Feef and tell her that...
it's off.
And then I'm going to get on the plane.
Don't... call her.
She's in place. She's in Whitehall.
Let me run her.
No.
Okay.
It was worth a shot. Right?
[both laughing]
Whatever it takes. Right?
[Peter chuckles]
You look nice.
New dress?
They gave it to me.
[honking]
[unintelligible dialogue]
[peeing]
[suspenseful music playing]
[jazz music playing]
- What are you doing here? - What are you doing here?
Well, it's a party to celebrate the new government.
So what are you doing here?
Family friend invited me.
[both chuckling]
If the purpose of this evening is to prove you can carry off silver,
then mission accomplished.
I'll take that as an apology for dinner.
It wasn't.
Isn't he getting married this year?
To a lovely girl.
-A Quaker. -Nice.
There's Feef.
It was really nice to see you. Excuse me.
[applauding]
-Glad to hear you're on board. -Thank you.
No, thank you.
And that's on behalf of the President.
This is Jimmy Derby.
We're going to be working together, so... May I have the pleasure?
["Don't Fence Me In" playing]
♪ Wildcat Kelly, lookin' mighty pale ♪
♪ Was standing by the sheriff's side ♪
♪ And when that sheriff said, "I'm sending you to jail"♪
♪ Wildcat raised his head and cried ♪
♪ Oh, give me land, lots of land under starry skies above ♪
♪ Don't fence me in ♪
♪ Let me ride through the wild open country that I love ♪
♪ Don't fence me in ♪
♪ Let me be by myself in the evening breeze... ♪
[honking]
[grunts]
[sighs]
-Drive. -Where was Peter?
He's working. We can catch up with him later.
[engine turns over]
That politician you were dancing with your friend?
[Feef] Not really.
Make him one.
What else? I'm in the Civil Service. Now what?
You're in the Ministry of Housing, correct?
Mm-hmm.
I need you to find a way to move to the Cabinet Office.
-Why? -You need to be where the power is.
That's the heart of government.
Don't you want to be at the center of it all?
Drop me here.
[honking]
-[crowd shouting] -Mr. Speaker?
-Mr. Speaker! -Mr. Speaker!
Order!
We now have a maiden.
Mr. Hugh Fenton.
[crowd cheering]
Come out here. Come on.
Thank you, Mr. Speaker,
for giving me my first opportunity to speak.
I have the privilege and the pleasure
of representing some of the poorest constituents in Derbyshire.
In the village where I grew up
we lost 68% of the men of fighting age to this war.
And that means 32% of them are coming home.
Thirty-two percent of the fellows I went to school with
and climbed trees with, and played Knock Down Ginger with
and played war with using sticks,
are coming home with a lot more than scraped knees and black eyes.
Here, here.
And I'm here in Parliament to make sure my friends, my family, my community...
the working people of Britain
are not betrayed by the men in power.
Here, here!
[crowd cheering]
Only 27 years ago,
the last Great War, the War to End All Wars ended,
and Lloyd George promised that we would build in peacetime
a land fit for heroes.
The heroes that came home.
And what did Westminster do?
What did the Tory Party do?
[crowd booing]
-They presided over economic deprivation. -Shame!
From their comfortable houses in back rooms warmed by fires and whiskey
hard-faced men slapped each other on the back
and talked about the Great British Empire,
that encompassed India, Africa, Australia, Canada...
and slums in Manchester, Liverpool, and London so squalid,
that for those of us who had the courage to walk through them,
and not look away,
they seemed like the very picture of hell.
[crowd cheering]
We at the Labour Party have our eyes wide open.
And know full well that the disease and squalor
and poverty of education and employment that we face
are not the result of acts of God or blind forces,
but are the sure and certain result
of the concentration of too much economic power
in the hands of too few men.
[crowd] Order!
Order!
It was the common man who fought the war.
[crowd] Yes.
-It was the common man that won the war. -Yes.
And it is the common man that now, as this last election has shown,
will define the terms of the peace.
-Healthcare for all. -Yes!
-Housing for all. -Yes!
-Culture for all! -Yes!
Someone said to me recently it makes no difference who's in number 10.
What a shock they have coming.
[crowd cheering]