Original release date: February 8, 2024
1989. The year has taken Dex and Em in very different directions. From a villa in Rome and a minibus in the Midlands, they both ponder what comes next.
* * *
[“Un bel dì, vedremo” from Madama Butterfly playing]
[birds singing overhead]
[man 1] How are we doing?
[Emma] Uh, yeah.
[man 1] All okay?
[Emma] Mm-hmm.
[man 1] Am I in the right ballpark?
[Emma] Yeah. Uh, just come a bit…
[tiny grunt]
[man 1] Is that?
[Emma] Yeah.
How about that?
[flatly] Mm-hmm.
[both panting]
And now?
Yeah. A… a little to the left.
But my left or stage left?
My left.
So, stage right.
[man 1 panting]
[Emma sighs]
[bed squeaking]
[both moaning softly]
[powerful Italian aria building]
[both breathing heavily]
[panting]
[gasps softly]
[whimpers]
[breathing intensifies]
[both moaning]
[music swells]
[knocking on door]
[song cuts out]
[Emma] Fuck!
[“Here Comes Your Man” by Pixies playing]
Fuck.
[woman 1] You missed breakfast.
Mrs. Thomas wanted you to have these.
And… this.
♪ Outside there’s a box car waiting… ♪
[Emma] What is it?
Some kind of… curd.
Okay, guys. In we go.
[woman 2] Morning.
[man 2] Morning.
[woman 1] Good morning.
[man 1 exhales]
[woman 1] Okay, are we in?
[group speaking indistinctly]
[softly] To be continued.
Okay. Morning, folk.
[man 3] Morning.
[woman 2] Good morning, guys.
[woman 1] Morning.
♪ There is a wait so long ♪
♪ So long, so long ♪
[engine sputters]
♪ You’ll never wait… ♪
[woman 1] Okay. Come on. Let’s do this.
[man 3] All right.
[engine falters]
[man 3] Where are we today, Em?
Uh, Heartwood Community Primary at Wolverhampton.
Last show of the tour, comrades. Let’s make it a good ‘un.
[troupe cheers]
Or at least, no worse than the low bar we set yesterday.
What’s that stink?
Your attitude.
That’s the remains of the clutch.
No, it’s not. It’s bloody petrol. I’m ringing Equity.
[man 3] Bye, Mrs. T!
[quietly] Thanks for the bedbugs.
♪ Stone fall and break my crown… ♪
Mind if I just… [sighs]
Sorry.
♪ So long, so long ♪
♪ You’ll never wait so long ♪
♪ Here comes your man ♪
[“Here Comes Your Man” fades]
[upbeat music playing]
[lover] “Where were we?”
“Shaf-tes-bury Avenue.”
Two syllables.
“Shaftes-bury.”
Why not “Shaf-tes-bury”?
No idea.
But you are meant to be my teacher.
You are meant to know.
Sorry.
Hmm. Let’s put this aside.
And revise again what we were just revising.
[Emma] Dear Dex. Or should I say, “Ciao, bella”?
Are you in Rome yet?
Your pretend teaching job must start soon, and I think you said your parents were coming to visit.
If so, please send them my regards.
I’m sure they remember me fondly as the girl who came to stay, drank all their wine, and lectured them about the founding of the welfare state.
Oh God.
[upbeat music continues]
[Emma] I write from the dazzlingly picturesque A4123 to Wolverhampton.
It’s the last show of the tour today.
The Royal Shakespeare Company we are not, but it’s fun and important, maybe.
[man 2] We’ve been round here.
If I have to see that cunting Pizza Hut one more time!
Then close your eyes, you miserable bastard.
[man 2] How dare you speak to me like that?
[Emma] There’s been a lovely camaraderie in the company.
I’ll report you to Equity.
[Emma] But acting’s not for me.
The only emotion I can convey convincingly is embarrassment, and I still don’t know what to do with my hands.
[upbeat music continues]
No time in the dressing room. We’ll be straight in and then straight on.
[Emma] So while you’re poncing around eating gelato, I’m sat here pondering, “What next?”
What am I doing with my life? Where do I go from here?
[man 3] Who is he, then?
Who’s who?
“Dear Dex.”
Oh. Uh, he’s a friend from university.
[man 3] What friend sends that many postcards?
[man 1] One who’s too idle to write a letter.
Dexter Mayhew, I take it. Is that who you’re talking about?
Yeah, I cast him once at a play in Edinburgh.
Was he any good?
Diabolical accent. Couldn’t sing.
Made no effort to learn his lines.
So I would say no.
Just twatted about in the costume, smoking.
Yeah. Yeah, that does sound like Dexter.
He’s a profoundly unserious person.
Yeah.
[Emma] Oh. And Gary sends his love.
[Alison speaking Italian]
I think you should do it this afternoon.
Mom?
Dexter, where have you been?
[waiter speaking Italian]
Oh, you know.
Just over there, watching you chat up young men.
Oh, how dare you?
[Dexter] You’re such a flirt.
Where do you think you got it from? It wasn’t Dad.
[chuckles]
Look at you. You’re all tanned.
Are you drunk already?
No, I’m just pleased to see you.
Where were you last night? We waited at the restaurant for ages.
The college disco.
What? They’re all over 18.
Well, we missed you.
Here.
Can’t finish this by myself.
Thank you.
Cheers.
Cheers.
You look well.
So do you.
I know you think they make you look like a film star, but they don’t.
It looks awful.
Well, why do you do it, then?
‘Cause it makes me look sensational.
[chuckles]
[lighter clicks]
Okay. This is it, guys. The last day of the tour.
[man 2] What’s happened to my trousers?
Can’t get nervous.
[man 2] Has someone been meddling with my fucking trousers?
Stay present. Candy, great warm-up.
[woman 1] Five minutes, guys.
Kwame, a looseness on the keys as well, please.
And keep it lively. Keep it fresh.
[man 2] Mind! Jesus!
[Emma grunts]
[man 2] There’s no lock.
Ah, the glamor and the smell of the greasepaint.
[woman 1] I can smell that, and it’s not greasepaint.
Drink some water.
[man 2] Fuck off.
Uh, can we stay focused? Um…
Say the lines like you’re saying them for the first time.
I’m a bit emotional.
Save it. Save that for the scenes.
Uh, and remember.
Don’t just act. React.
Your focus is always on that other actor because they are real, and they only exist in…
Another opening, another show.
Down the hall, first left after the Bayeux Tapestry.
Come on. Come on. Come on. Let’s go.
Today.
Oh God.
And trust your instincts.
[Alison] So, tell me.
Have you met anyone on your grand tour?
I’ve met lots of people.
Who?
[chuckles]
Tell me while your father’s not here.
You know I’m forced to live vicariously through my children, and your sister is such a virgin.
[scoffs]
You are drunk.
How she got two children, I’ll never know.
Who’s been sending you all those long, tearstained letters we keep forwarding?
Tearstained?
[Alison] Just tell me.
There’s nothing to tell.
Really?
Really.
[sighs]
What about that girl who came and stayed for Christmas?
She was pretty.
A bit shy. And she got drunk and started shouting about the miner’s strike.
[chuckles, clicks tongue] That was Emma Morley.
Emma Morley.
I liked her.
Even if she did call your father a bourgeois fascist.
I didn’t mind.
At least she had a bit of fire, a bit of passion.
Not like the silly sexpots we usually find at the breakfast table.
Mom!
Well, it’s true.
What about this Emma?
She’s just a friend.
Really?
Yes.
I thought she was funny.
Mm.
And that she liked you.
Liked me?
[Alison] Mm-hmm.
Everyone likes me.
Don’t stop being nice, will you?
What?
We’ve got this afternoon together, don’t we?
Yeah. And the evening too, if you want.
[Alison] Good.
[teacher] Please give a warm Heartwood Community Primary welcome to Sledgehammer.
[crowd applauds]
[dramatic piano music playing]
[boy sighs]
[Kwame] ♪ Deeds, not words ♪
♪ Deeds, not words ♪
♪ Deeds, not words ♪
♪ Deeds, not words ♪
Once upon a time, not so very long ago, only men were allowed to vote.
Women had argued for years for this basic right, but nothing changed.
Until, one day…
along came a woman called Emmeline Pankhurst, who decided…
Enough is enough!
[quietly] Too big. Too big.
[Kwame] ♪ Deeds, not words ♪
♪ Deeds, not words ♪
♪ Deeds, not… ♪
[song ends]
[kids cheering]
[Gary] To Sledgehammer.
[troupe] To Sledgehammer!
[man 2] Hammer!
Uh, to Candy for her phenomenal mask work.
To Kwame, voice of an angel. Sid, of course, for keeping us grounded.
Oh, fuck off.
And obviously, Emma.
For everything.
Aw.
[Gary] Uh, to groundbreaking, radical theater.
To many more productions, and to changing young lives through art.
To the kid who wet himself during my soliloquy and blamed his flask.
To the boys in Solihull who chucked Minstrels at me.
And to the prefect at Marston Hill who felt me up.
[laughs]
Ugh.
[Emma] Where have you been?
Post office. Right, something for you.
Something for you.
[Kwame] So he’s moved on to packages now, has he?
[Emma] No, it’s from my mom.
Oh, and there was a message from your agent.
Was there?
No.
[Kwame laughs]
Brutal.
Too far, Tracey.
[Alison laughs]
[chuckles]
So, what next?
Espresso.
You can’t have a cappuccino after breakfast. No one in Italy does.
I mean, what next for you, Dexter? What’s your plan?
Plan?
Yes. You said you’re nearly finished here. So what now?
Don’t know.
Barcelona?
[scoffs] I don’t mean what city, Dexter.
I mean, what are you going to do with your life?
Why are you in such a rush for me to figure out what I’m doing?
I’m just asking because I love you.
[Dexter] Mm.
Maybe, um,
journalism.
Journalism?
But you don’t write, do you?
Well, I was thinking maybe photojournalism.
Actually, I was thinking about photography.
Photography?
Yeah.
What kind of photography? Glamor?
[Alison chuckles]
Or will you be continuing your work on texture?
Do you remember your O-level art project?
I remember.
All those photographs of gravel.
Oh my God. You used to stand in the driveway for hours, snapping away.
Sorry, Dexter. That was mean.
I’m a mean woman.
It’s just a thought.
Looks and charm go a long way, Dexter.
Mom.
And you’ve got both in abundance.
But I’m worried that you lack drive, purpose.
Purpose is so key to happiness, darling.
[exhales] I’m not enjoying this conversation.
What I’m trying to say is that you’ve had luck.
So much luck.
And you’ve been protected from things.
Responsibilities and money.
But you’re an adult now.
And one day… things might not be this… serene.
No. It’ll just be stamps and socks and some job ads.
Jobs? Where?
What, Leeds?
Yeah.
[Kwame] Are you going back, then?
Yeah, I suppose I am.
I mean, I did toy with Paris, but then I thought it might be tricky to sign on from the bank of the Seine.
What auditions are you gonna get in Leeds?
I don’t want to audition.
I… I wanna write.
Plays, books.
[Kwame] Ah.
[scoffs] Hark at her.
Sounds so grand, doesn’t it? [scoffs] “I want to write.”
What you gonna write?
[Gary] Our next play.
Probably about a woman who goes back home with her fancy college ways and is never heard from again.
[scoffs]
[bartender] What would you like?
Uh…
Can I have a word?
[softly] Yeah. Sorry.
[Gary clears throat]
[exhales]
It’s been really amazing, Emma.
It’s been fun.
So let’s keep going. Don’t go back to Leeds.
Let’s stay on the van, do another play.
You know the apartheid project that I wrote to the Arts Council about?
They want it, and they want me to develop it further.
Uh, congratulations.
Yep.
Sorry. Sorry. The apartheid project. Is that the proposal I wrote?
Yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
They… They want me to direct it.
But I just think we make a good team.
Sartre and De Beauvoir.
Plath and Hughes. You know, Beckett and Barbara Bray.
Who’s Bray?
Beckett’s girlfriend.
I’ve never heard of her.
She was a minor figure.
In her lifetime. [chuckles]
[Emma exhales]
[sighs] Come on, Emma.
Don’t go home.
Let’s do this. Let’s make theater.
Let’s change the world.
[sighs]
[somber instrumental music playing]
[birds singing]
This is me.
[Dexter] Looks nice.
[Alison] Mm.
You know your father and I first stayed here in 1958?
Really?
[Alison] Mm-hmm.
Long time ago now.
Are you all right, Mom?
Hmm?
I don’t know. You seem a bit… preoccupied with something.
I… I did want to talk to you about something else,
but I’m a bit drunk now, I think. [laughs]
Take me for lunch tomorrow. We can talk about it properly. Hmm?
Just you and me. Somewhere expensive. My treat.
I am proud of you.
Thanks.
Good night, darling.
[softly] Good night.
Night.
Wait, you seem… you seem a bit…
Is it… Is it you and Dad? Are you getting a divorce?
[laughs] God, no. Never!
Who could resist such a man?
[chuckles]
Hello, darling.
[both] Mwah.
[Dexter] Hi, Dad.
You all right?
What is it?
Tomorrow, darling. Hmm? Let’s have lunch again tomorrow.
[wistful piano music playing]
[“Last Look” by Vanbur playing]
♪ Last look now ♪
♪ Still hear the sound ♪
♪ Of me and my home truths ♪
♪ Collide ♪
♪ Every word ♪
♪ Not meant, not heard ♪
♪ Would I say what I said to you? ♪
♪ All those times, hands tied ♪
♪ Would I say what I said to you? ♪
♪ What I say to you? ♪
♪ What I say to you? ♪
♪ What I say to you? ♪
[“Last Look” fades out slowly]
[“Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now” by Starship playing]
[together] ♪ And if this world Runs out of lovers ♪
♪ We’ll still have each other ♪
♪ Nothing’s gonna stop us ♪
♪ Nothing’s gonna stop us now ♪
[Kwame and Candy laughing]
♪ Ooh, all that I need is you ♪
[scattered applause and cheers]
[Candy sighs]
Your turn.
No. No, I don’t sing.
That is the single saddest thing I’ve ever heard.
No, that’s me singing.
[Gary] A duet?
No.
Come on. You and me.
No. Really.
[Kwame] Oh, go on.
A duet with Gary on the last night.
You’ll love it. Go on.
No. Uh, no.
Come on.
I’m going outside.
[Gary] You’ve got a beautiful voice.
No. For fuck’s sake! No.
[MC] Gary for The Waterboys. “The Whole of the Moon.”
[“The Whole of the Moon” by The Waterboys playing]
[MC] Has anyone seen Gary?
Gary?
[Gary, out of tune] ♪ I pictured a rainbow ♪
♪ You held it in your hands ♪
♪ I saw flashes ♪
♪ But you saw the plan ♪
♪ I wandered out in the world for years ♪
[dramatically] ♪ While you just stayed In your room ♪
♪ I saw the crescent ♪
♪ You saw the whole of the moon ♪
♪ The whole of the moon ♪
♪ Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah ♪
[sighs]
[Gary] ♪ Too far ♪
Thank you, Wolverhampton!
Thank you!
[recording] ♪ To reach too high ♪
[Gary] Live long!
[recording] ♪ Too far ♪
[Gary] Take everything down!
[recording] ♪ Too soon ♪
[Gary] ♪ The whole of the moon ♪
[MC] Come on, Gary.
[crowd cheering]
[Candy] Well done, Gary!
[Tracey] Gary!
Get this one a record deal.
[line rings]
[presenter on TV] Here to help make up your mind is Graham…
Hello?
[line beeping]
[coin clatters]
Hello?
Tilly, it’s Em.
Em?
I’m coming to London.
What? I thought you were touring the north with Harold Pinter.
Uh, yeah, I was, but I’m not anymore.
[Tilly] Uh, but you said London was a cliché.
That writers flocking to London is creating a cultural deficit in the north.
Did I say that? How pretentious of me.
[chuckles] Yeah, I’m coming. Is the room still free?
Oh, free. Free, yeah. I mean, it’s 200 a month, but it’s free.
I mean, it’s got no window.
It won’t matter because we’ll be out all the time.
It’s gonna be like uni, only we’ll have money. [laughs]
Uh, well, I won’t.
Um… [smacks lips]
But I’m… I’m gonna try and write a play.
A… A proper one. Not for school kids. A real one for adults.
Oh! And you’ll do it. I know you’re gonna do it.
Where do you live again?
Clapton.
Where’s that?
[laughs] London, baby. Come on down.
[bright music playing]
[Dexter] Where are you, Em, and what are you doing right now?
I’m not much of a letter writer. Not like you.
Your last one made me laugh so much.
How’s the show going?
Are you setting the world of theater alight?
I’m in Rome,
but I’m gonna come back to London in September.
[Tilly] When are you coming?
I don’t know. A few weeks, maybe.
[squeals in delight]
September.
[bright instrumental music building]
[bright string music continues]
♪ Falling ♪
♪ Hard ♪
♪ Falling ♪
♪ Hard ♪
♪ Falling ♪
