Their Finest Page #8

I'd miss it.

Even if I were dead,

I'd still miss it.

The Catrin Cole School of Dialogue.

On and on and on and on and on.

Lose half.

- Which half?

- The half you don't need.

All right.

All right. I'd miss you.

I'd miss you more than I can say.

Help me take this.

None on that side.

Keep going.

Let's go around this way.

Mrs. Cole?

Watch yourself, girl.

- Mrs. Cole?

- Hmm?

- I thought you was under it.

- I was in the office.

Hmm.

Okay, coming in from the left.

I might have to borrow clothes.

Talk to the costumes mistress,

but don't be surprised if she's tetchy.

A parachute mine took the roof

off Studio Four last night

and her Panzer division uniforms

are ruined.

They're saying it was

the worst night of bombing yet.

Nothing left of Wimbledon, apparently.

The props master hasn't turned up,

the best boy's in hospital,

and no one knows where the grip is,

so we're having to make do

with whatever we can get.

It's got a bit of a wobble.

Might have to lash it to the gantry.

There'll be tears before bedtime,

mark my words.

No, you've got a bit of a wobble.

Chick.

Could we save that lamp

till we roll, please?

Sorry, Mr. Hilliard.

It's heavy.

- More?

- Much more.

This man hasn't had a bath

since the last time he fell off the boat.

Change of plans.

Going straight

from Uncle Frank's Mayday

to wounded Johnnie

fixing the propeller.

Hurry up, Rex.

We need you over here.

Yes, sir. Corning.

Quick as I can.

Right, what can I do for you, sir?

Right, be careful. Careful.

And watch out for that...

Watch the wires, please.

- I thought you'd be at the office.

- Don't lean against it.

I was.

I read your ending.

You bagged it.

- You were almost there.

- Nowhere near.

I've been useless for weeks.

I read your other stuff, too.

Oh?

- What did you think?

- Hmm.

Bit inconclusive. I wasn't really sure

where it was going next.

No.

I wasn't too sure of that, either.

Crumbs.

Find Mrs. Cole!

I need to talk to Mrs. Cole.

Mrs. Cole!

Has anyone seen Mrs. Cole?

- Come on before they find us.

- Where?

I don't know. I never come to the studio.

Mrs. Cole!

The boss wants to try a take

without Uncle Frank's lines

'cause he says

we are losing visual tension.

Mr. Hilliard is talking about

the integrity of the story,

saying he will play the scene

as you wrote it or not at all.

- Nobody's had any sleep and you're just...

- It's all right. I'm coming.

No. Let me deal with it.

Once Hilliard gets his hands on you,

he won't let you go for hours,

and I was rather hoping to do that myself.

Careful of big boy,

it's got a bit of a wobble on it.

Don't... Don't lean against it.

- Whoa! Nobody move!

- Buckley!

Nobody move, stay exactly where

you are until we have some lights in here.

Stay where you are.

Back. Back, please.

Everybody get back.

Please take the girls

away from the stage.

Mr. Brown, please take them away.

Almost dawn.

Johnnie has been doing

his best to fix the engine,

but he is getting weaker by the minute.

And we all know

when the sun comes up,

the German planes will be back.

No one wants to be here,

but we have a hole in this picture.

A stranded boat,

a broken propeller,

no one to fix it,

and no Tom Buckley.

- Well, maybe we could reshoot.

- Who with?

Ambrose Hilliard is still in plaster,

Wyndham Best's

in the North Atlantic,

and Carl Lundbeck

is back with the RAF.

Could one of the Frenchies do it?

Come to our rescue,

same way we came to theirs?

It doesn't seem right morale-wise.

We could, uh, pan across

the faces of the soldiers

and never actually see who fixes...

The work's good, Mrs. Cole.

None of them

could have done any better.

You're mustard these days.

Rose could do it.

Rose could free the propeller.

Cerberus, sit.

Rugelach...

- and koge/ mogel.

- Mmm-hmm.

To build you up in time

for the premiere.

You'll be interested to learn I received

several unexpected propositions this week.

How delightful for you.

Of course, I do not speak

of erotic advances.

These were professional inquiries

regarding your availability.

You will be kind enough to read,

give your opinion.

The doctors tell me you are

to be discharged in a few days.

I cannot see you will be in a condition

to look after yourself. I...

I therefore propose that we should ready

a room in the apartment for your use.

I believe a few weeks' proper care

will be of great benefit...

to your career.

You're still a very handsome man,

Mr. Hilliard.

Yes.

But your good looks have fallen prey

to a certain scrawniness.

Oh, no, we can correct this,

I believe, together.

Thank you, Mr. Hilliard.

This way, Mr. Hilliard.

Young ladies, thank you.

- Thank you so much.

- Thank you.

I'm not concerned

about how many lines I have.

I'd rather have four honest words

- than 50 pages of bilge.

- Wyndham Best.

Young lady.

Remarkably good turnout.

Mr. Frayle.

- Hello. Did you... Is this...

- Yes.

Congratulations.

Well done.

- Good evening.

- Miss Moore. Very ship shape.

- Why, thank you.

- Hello.

Let me do this.

Mrs. Cole? She's coming?

I tried.

Oh, Miss Pugh,

your uncle's here to see you.

Forgive the deceit.

Your landlady didn't look the sort

to approve a gentleman caller.

To be perfectly frank, she's the first

person I've met for weeks

who didn't recognize me.

She doesn't hold

with the pictures. Ungodly.

Ah!

That's...

That's charming.

It's from Rose and Lily.

The real Rose and Lily.

They ran away to join the ATS.

Rose thought if she could fix

a propeller in a film,

she could learn to mend

an engine in real life.

Ah.

They're both mechanics now.

Um...

Baker's planning a new film.

Air-raid wardens.

Wants me in it.

He's pretty much left the part up to me.

So, I was thinking,

newly retired cat burglar,

not quite reformed.

That's why he's so good at the rescues.

He knows the way in and out

of any property.

Thing is, in the hands

of the wrong writer...

So, I was wondering

if you would consider putting

your time and talent...

I don't do that anymore.

I'm sorry. I just can't.

You'll get... You'll get soap in your eyes.

Here.

Hmm.

My agent's.

You and me, given opportunities

only because young men are gone.

Or dying-

But to turn our back

on those opportunities,

even when one has suffered

such great loss,

wouldn't that be giving death

dominion over life?

Have you seen it yet?

Our film?

You should.

It's very good.

I'm awfully good.

And so are you.

Calling all small boats.

All seaworthy vessels to report

to your local harbor master immediately.

Dunkirk. on, Lily!

I think they're gonna get 'em out.

Then they're going to need

all the boats they can get, aren't they?

The Nancy.

Here, boy.

Here.

Don't be a fool, Johnnie.

There's a sniper up there.

I don't care if he's got

a bleedin' cannon.

I'm not gonna sit by

and watch him shoot a dog.

Aww!

What in the... What is that?

It's France, Uncle Frank.

Dunkirk.

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