Kinky Boots Page #3

Steel shank.

What?

A steel shank, cut thinly,

then moulded in a continuous section,

from toe to heel without pinning.

Not even Don would crush that.

Lola.

Lola, we might be able to do it.

Steel shanks without underpinning.

We might be able

to make those boots.

If you could just...

If you're willing to...

I think Don would have

something to say about that.

I gave up the provinces years ago,

and I've just been reminded why.

Lola doesn't do North.

- Northamptors the Midlands.

- No, Charlie.

Tottenam Court Road is the Midlands.

If you'll excuse me,

I have a show tonight.

Look, I'm stood here, trying

to save a factory of four generations.

Of my father,

and his father's father...

- Tell me when it applies to me.

- And how it applies to you.

I'm about to take

an almighty f***ing gamble.

And in one afternoon, in one drawing,

you've said more about

these boots than...

I mean, I just...

Five weeks, Lola. That's it. I mean,

if I don't have a new collection ready

for the Milan shoe fair in five weeks,

I've blown it. I'll have to sell up.

All right, I'll tell you what.

Don't hang around.

It's never gonna apply to you.

What you don't realise, Lola,

is this is not my world either.

Where you going, darling?

By the sound of it...

Milan.

I see this as a very positive step

for a company,

who spent the last century

making a range of shoes for men,

to start the next century

making shoes for a range of men.

Any questions?

Sorry, love. I thought you were

going in to work at nine.

No, I did, Mrs Cobb, I was.

- I am.

- Sorry.

Don.

Have you got

any toilets down here?

I'm afraid we've only got

mers and womers.

Charlie.

She's locked herself in the loo.

- What?

- Come on.

Right. Go in there. Tell her...

- No, the gent's loo.

- Right.

What's up, Mel?

Lola, it's Charlie. Are you OK?

Are you ill?

Yeah, I'm sick.

- Ask your boys.

- Oh, God. Is this Don?

Has he nicked your dress?

I came like this.

God. Put on a frock,

and I can sing Stand By Your Man

in front of 500 strangers.

Put on a pair of jeans, and I can't even

sodding well say hello.

I have to say,

I was going to suggest dressing down.

Well, thank you for your concern.

Come on, tell me.

- Boxer.

- Get out of here.

I'm serious.

He had me doing training.

Weights. I could bench-press 93 kilos.

I owe all my spectacular

muscle definition to my father.

What, he never...

The whole wearing frocks thing...

Well, he wasrt stupid.

He knew there'd be few cross-dressing

heavyweight champions of the world.

Yeah.

No, he disowned me.

Wouldrt see me.

Even when he got lung cancer,

he wouldn't.

So, it's ironic really.

Fags got him in the end.

I mean, that's what it was all about.

Fitting in.

Melding in. Not standing out.

As far as he was concerned, if you're

big, black and a boxer you are sorted.

If you're big and you're black

and you're in a...

you know... strapless cocktail dress,

that's not so good.

That's what my dad wanted, ar all.

A strapless cocktail dress?

No. For me to fit in.

To this place.

You know, it should be me

that's hiding in here, not you.

I'm the one who doesn't know

what he's doing.

God, it'd kill him

to hear me say that, too.

Although he probably knew,

and that's probably what did.

Well.

Perhaps we just have to pretend

we do know what we're doing.

Charlie from Northampton,

Simon from Clacton.

Come on, let's make boots.

Cover me, girls. I'm going in.

For...

While tearing off

A game of golf

I might make a play

for the caddie

But when I do

I don't follow through

Cos my heart belongs to Daddy

If I invite

A boy some night

To dine on my fine finnan haddie

Though I just adore

His asking for more

But my heart belongs to Daddy

That's where you applaud, Charlie.

Don't you have a show tonight?

Sore throat.

But my heart...

You know you don't have to work

in the rough-stuff room.

But I feel at home here.

They're my friends.

Besides, one never knows what joy

one might find amongst the unwanted.

And abandoned.

Charlie boy.

Morning, stranger.

Nic, look, about last night.

Things got a little bit crazy

at work and...

It won't always be like that.

I promise.

- No, really, it won't be.

- OK.

See, I think I've found

a solution for the factory.

Well, that makes two of us.

Come on.

One second, Mrs Cobb.

God.

Come in.

- There we go.

- Thank you.

And the room's all right

for you then, love, is it?

Absolutely lovely, Mrs Cobb, yes.

Lots of...

Lots of trinkets.

Now, the little pottery shoes,

they're good luck, you see?

You know, like Whitby

has lucky glass ducks,

Northampton has lucky pottery shoes.

Can I just ask, are you a man?

I am, love, yes.

That's fine. Just so's I know

how to leave the toilet seat.

I'll get some biscuits.

Mr Price.

Charlie, this is Richard Bailey

I was sorry to hear about your dad.

Shall we?

The beauty is the building.

For us developers,

it's more a case of what we don't do.

- Isn't it?

- And if you look in here,

you will see the bedroom.

So, what do you think?

We... I mean, one day, Nic,

if this is what you want, but isn't it

slightly out of our price range?

Not all buildings deserve

a second life, Mr Price,

but factories like this,

like yours, they're special.

Sorry?

Are you under the illusion

that Prices is for sale?

I know you're trying to help

but if you hang in there a bit,

I make you this promise.

A promise like the Jimmy Choo shoes?

Hang on. You're talking about

the history of my family.

But isn't this the future of it

right here?

I don't know, Nicola. Is it?

I mean, if I can't get you

to summon up some faith...

OK, give me it, Charlie. Come on.

What have I got to have faith in?

Now, I've suggested selling the factory

to a brilliant developer

who's interested.

And who's done all that.

You know?

Made all that happen.

What's your plan?

Charlie boy.

I've found Soho.

A little corner of Soho in Northampton,

that brasserie.

We're not talking Hoxton,

but never mind.

Sorry, I'm Lola. I'm the one designing

his range of transvestite boots.

There's a slight chill in the air.

Isn't there?

That is the...

- Plan.

- Yeah.

Listen, Nic,

I have not gone into this lightly.

And there is a market...

Can I just say

before you make a fool of yourself

trying to save the factory because,

"It's the history of my family",

the reason Richard came to see me,

OK, not you,

was because your dad approached him

about selling.

You see, you owe your father nothing,

Charlie Price.

You are free.

To walk.

Right. That's it.

We've terminated production

on all Derbys, brogues and Oxfords.

From now on, the factory

is 100 percent on the new range.

Or we will not hit Milan.

So, we need at least

fifteen new designs from Lola.

And at least six samples of each.

And remember.

You are not making footwear.

You are not making boots.

You are making two-and-a-half feet

of irresistible, tubular sex.

None of the major firms

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