The Angels' Share Page #8

Synopsis: This bitter sweet comedy follows protagonist Robbie as he sneaks into the maternity hospital to visit his young girlfriend Leonie and hold his newborn son Luke for the first time. Overwhelmed by the moment, he swears that Luke will not have the same tragic life he has had. Escaping a prison sentence by the skin of his teeth, he's given one last chance......While serving a community service order, he meets Rhino, Albert and Mo who, like him, find it impossible to find work because of their criminal records. Little did Robbie imagine how turning to drink might change their lives - not cheap fortified wine, but the best malt whiskies in the world. Will it be 'slopping out' for the next twenty years, or a new future with 'Uisge Beatha' the 'Water of Life?' Only the angels know........
Genre: Comedy, Crime, Drama
Director(s): Ken Loach
Production: IFC Films
  7 wins & 9 nominations.
 
IMDB:
7.0
Metacritic:
66
Rotten Tomatoes:
88%
Year:
2012
101 min
$687,405
Website
1,054 Views


At 1,150,000...

The bid's still with you,

sir, at 1,150,000.

Any further interest at 1,150,000?

It's yours, sir, at 1,150,000...

Two-oh-nine.

Thanks very much. Thank you.

- Many congratulations. Well done.

- Thank you very much.

- Could I ask who was your bidder?

- I don't even know his name.

Nation?

Moscow, that's all I know.

Many congratulations, sir.

That's an auction record. Congratulations.

Thank you, thank you.

(APPLAUSE)

- Could you give us your name, please, sir?

- They call me Jim Vincent.

- Where are you from?

- Westport, Connecticut.

- And... And are you gonna have a drink?

- I hope so.

Yes, he is.

- DOBIE:
Try not to spill any of this.

- Far too precious.

WOMAN:
How does it compare?

It's absolutely exquisite.

It's really great.

Thank you, thank you very, very much.

Thank you.

Commiserations.

My client gets what he wants. Always.

He's not best pleased, I can tell you.

It's actually congratulations

on not throwing a million pounds

down the pan.

Oh, my God.

My God!

I don't believe it.

How much have you got?

One to keep, one to swap

and one to drink with my mates.

You didn't do a deal with Dobie?

Hasn't got the nerve.

You little bastard. I'll be damned.

- How much do you want?

- 200,000.

With no provenance? Not a chance.

"Not a stickler for detail",

that's what I heard.

And that's not all. I want a job.

I want a real job.

- Can you get it to Glasgow?

- Not a problem.

- You've still got my card?

- I have.

Text me your number,

I'll be there Wednesday.

Don't f*** up.

RHINO:
Sh*t, it's PC Plod.

I f***ing know that guy. He hates me.

MO:
F***. Come on, we'll make a run for it.

ROBBIE:
Nobody move.

- RHINO:
They're not gonna catch us all.

- Nobody move.

POLICEMAN:
Can I have

a quick word, please?

Good afternoon, Constable.

Hello, ladies.

A little bit of country dancing, eh?

And what the hell

have you been robbing, Miss?

Nothing, Officer.

Back up against the wall, please.

Put the bags down by your side.

- Is there any need for this?

- Come on, it's not a talking competition.

You got anything on you

I need to know about?

No, not at all, mate.

Okay, just turn around.

Okay, just empty your bag out, please.

Arms out, sir.

Anything on you I should know about?

Just my sleeping bag.

Do you want me to open it?

You not wash your socks, son?

ALBERT:
There was no

washing machine where I was.

Oh, excuse me.

Okay, girls, we'll catch you later,

so to speak.

See you.

(SNAPS FINGERS) Wait.

You think I forgot, eh?

Let's have you.

- Come on. Just come over, guys.

- What?

Over here now. Not you, Miss.

- Up with the kilts.

- Are you having a laugh?

- You'll never sleep again, Officer.

- Shut up.

Up, I said.

- Jesus Christ, what happened to you?

- It's a long story, pal.

Go easy.

You better get some cream on that, man.

- Have you got any on you?

- Turn round, for goodness sake.

It's like a fire hydrant.

You want a wee sample there?

POLICEMAN:

Should have brought my welding mask.

- Is that us done?

- On you go, and behave yourselves.

- See you later, eh?

- No, hopefully not.

Albert, calm down.

Just ignore them. Calm it.

F***ing molesting

some f***ing innocent civilians.

RHINO:
It's cos I pissed him off last time.

ALBERT:
F***ing shocking.

F***ing police, man.

We shall not be moved!

Billy Connolly. Robert the Bruce.

Braveheart, ya bastards!

Alex Ferguson!

We are the f***ing champions!

- Cheers!

- (SCREAMS)

You're kidding me on. Give me that.

Don't spill any more of that.

Oh Jesus Christ.

Jesus Christ.

Did that really just happen?

You are a f***ing idiot!

You see that whisky pouring away?

That's your share. Gone!

Story of my life.

- Can I just say...

- Say f*** all!

Youse are getting nothing! Not a penny.

- Just a little point. - Just a wee

f***ing point? You're damn right!

F*** up, Albert.

- It's the last thing I'll say to youse.

- You're damn right it is.

See that big fat balls,

I'll nail them to that f***ing sporran!

- Listen. - Albert, I think

it's best if you just shut up.

Listen. If there was only

four bottles left in the entire world

then that makes them very,

very precious. Right?

Right, but you're just a f***ing idiot!

But if there was only two bottles

left in the entire world,

then that makes them

even more f***ing precious.

Common sense. Supply and demand.

Market f***ing forces.

Thaddeus is gonna go mental.

I don't want youse winding him up, so

I think it's best if youse just wait here.

Wait here? We'll just come in with you,

it'll be cool.

No, no, no. You are staying with me.

- You're going nowhere.

- Aye, just wait here.

And, Albert, don't f*** it up.

Don't attract attention to yourself.

Right?

We could have gone in with him.

Stay here.

(ALL CHATTER INDISCERNIBLY)

There's nothing to see.

I can't see nothing here.

The tension's killing me.

- Bend down, let us on your shoulders.

- Oh, f*** off. No.

- Aye, go. He's right.

- Come on.

I cannot stand this tension.

Oof! Albert!

(RHINO GROANS)

RHINO:
What's happening?

ALBERT:
They're just sitting down.

They're just having a wee chat.

Wait for it. Two secs.

What's going on?

He doesn't look a happy chappie.

Definitely not amused.

- Who, for f***'s sake?

- Thaddeus.

By the looks of it,

he's just about to have a heart attack.

No wonder. What about Robbie?

Wait. There's been a development.

MO:
What the f*** does that mean?

ALBERT:
A Checkpoint Charlie moment.

What?

An exchange of packages.

What else could it mean?

Here, it's looking good.

Wait, he's handing him

something else and all.

MO:
For God's sake.

Don't know what it is. I cannot really see.

- RHINO:
Albert!

- Wait there! Hold it the noo.

Jesus Christ.

F*** me, man,

chaffed balls part two.

F***!

I think you were easy on him.

Well?

Relax. A hundred grand.

Twenty-five grand each.

We'll divide it up later.

(ALL CHEERING)

- You're lucky.

- Give us a kiss.

- This is brilliant.

- Was he raging?

Take it or leave it. A Malt Mill.

- This is brilliant. What's that?

- Have a look.

RHINO:
So who's the old geezer?

It's a friend of Thaddeus.

He runs a distillery.

- He's gonna give us a job. Teach us.

- Superb.

You'll probably be up a lonely mountain.

Probably turn into a wee sheep-shagger.

It's not far from Stirling.

We'll get a wee house there, in the city.

I can't believe he paid all that money

for just two bottles.

Two bottles? Try one bottle.

- What?

- What happened to the other one?

"Thanks for giving me a chance. Robbie. "

(CHUCKLES) You buggers.

Classic.

- Do you like it, mate?

- It's crackin', man.

MO:
Grab a bag.

Cheers, Mo.

ROBBIE:
What do you think?

Where did you get it?

- Goes with the job.

- A VW campervan?

RHINO:
It's because he has to visit

all these distilleries,

and it's cheaper than staying in a hotel.

- F***ing cutbacks. It's a f***ing disgrace.

- Aye.

- Where will I put the baby?

- In the back, come on.

Right, gulls-

We'll get youse over

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Paul Laverty

Paul Laverty (born 1957) is a Scottish lawyer and scriptwriter. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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