For over 70 years, miners of Durham County
have come together once a year
for their demonstration on Gala Day.
This was the first Durham rally since the pits were handed over to the people.
This year, one of the popular attractions was Mr Herbert Morrison,
who spoke of the link of solidarity between miners and other workers.
I want you men of the pits to come through.
I want this great scheme of nationalization to succeed triumphantly.
The whole country is watching to see
how this great new organisation,
this new adventure,
- this new experiment comes out.
The great experiment of socialism in a democracy depends on you.
The whole future we are trying to build up in our country
is for all our people and all our children
and it depends on you.
Through the dark and through the hunger
Through the night and through the fear
Through the fight and years of hardship
Through the storms and through the tears
And although your feet are weary
And although your soul is worn
And although they'll try to break you
And although you'll feel alone
We will always stand together
In the dark, right through the storm
We will stand shoulder to shoulder
To keep us warm
Any news?
Still waiting.
And the stars look down on the mean and hungry
And the stars look down and show the way
And the stars look down and we'll stand together
To see a day
When the stars look down and know our history
When the stars look down upon our past
And the stars look down and see a future bright at last
When we'll stand as one
Sit down.
Beneath the sun
And though our hands...
...are bruised and bleeding
And our lungs...
And our lungs
...are full with dust.
Are full with dust
And our hearts...
And our hearts
...are near to breaking.
Are near to breaking
We will never...
We will never
...forgo the trust.
Forgo the trust
Thank you.
We will fight through pain and hunger
Every arrow, every knife
We will never give the hope up
Of a proud and honest life
So we will always stand together
Through the frost, the hail, the snow
The stars are our redemption
And so we know
He's heard!
We're out. We're on strike!
The stars look down when we're abandoned
Look down in the heart of night
And the stars look down and give us vision
More Tory!
To see the light
The stars look down upon our struggle
The stars look down and know the past
The stars look down and see a future bright at last
When we'll stand as one beneath the sun
All out together
Kevin!
All out as one
All out for victory
Get home, now!
Till we've won
All out together
All out as one
All out for victory
All out till we've won
Billy, do you know why they're on strike, like?
It's to do with Maggie Thatcher, isn't it?
Maggie Thatcher? Why? What's she done, like?
Fucked if I know.
See you at boxing, then?
Yeah, see you, Michael.
Take me up and hold me gently
Raise me up and hold me high
Through the nights under darkness
Will come a day when we will fly
And although we've been rejected
And although we've been outcast
We will find a new tomorrow
When we come to rest at last
And we will stand there proudly
And we will never walk alone
And we will be returned
Back to our home
- Cush! - Piss off, man.
And the stars look down at their reflection
And the stars look down and there's a light
When the stars look down they'll see the justice
And the right
And the stars look down and see the struggle
And the stars look down and know the pain
And the stars will lead to where light shines again
Where we'll stand as one beneath the sun
One beneath the sun
When we'll stand as one
All out together
When we'll stand as one
All out as one
When we'll stand as one
All out for victory
When we'll stand as one
Till we've won
When we'll stand as one
All out together
When we'll stand as one
All out as one
When we'll stand as one
All out for victory
When we'll stand as one
Till we've won
When we'll stand as one
All out together
When we'll stand as one
All out as one
When we'll stand as one
All out for victory
All out till we've won
It came from a ruthless determination
from a few men to create mounting chaos.
Billy!
Now these few men are the wreckers in our midst.
- Billy! Shit! - They're not the mass of trade unionists...
What am I gonna do with you, lad?
...but there are a few militants who are the wreckers.
Billy! Get down here now before I tan your hide for you!
Hey! Not on the table.
They seek to use freedom in order to destroy freedom.
Turn that bloody witch off, will you?
Hey, I was listening to that.
Don't you want to know what's going on in the world?
I know what's going on in the world. We're on bloody strike. Billy!
- Get this off the bloody table. - Eh!
Socialist workers, my arse.
What do you know about political agitation?
What do you know about political aggravation?
You're not wearing any trousers!
Exactly!
You're wearing a bloody bikini!
Billy!
I don't know what you want to keep the pits open for, anyway.
If it was up to me, I'd close the bloody lot of them.
- Billy! - That's exactly what they're gonna do.
Where's my pasty?
Will you forget about your bloody pasty?
I am making you a nice cooked breakfast.
I don't want a cooked breakfast.
- I'll have some, though. - Shit!
Not your cooked breakfast.
Billy, get down here now!
What he lacks is a mother's touch.
What he lacks is a kick up the arse!
Look at the state of this!
Howay, man. Jackie.
- Oh, no. - Breakfast!
Good morning, everyone.
What's good about it? They've purloined me bloody pasty.
- Get off! - Right, bugger off!
The lot of you!
You're eating me out of house and home.
Oi, the police are bussing the scabs in early. Come on!
Shit!
- Maggie, Maggie, Maggie! - Out, out, out!
Billy, your 50p's on the side.
Arthur Scargill
We'll support you ever more!
If I were you, Big Davy, I wouldn't eat that.
- Hello, Grandma. - Hello, son.
Grandma, I found this in the airing cupboard.
What the hell is that?
It's your pasty.
Oh!
Thank the Lord.
I thought they'd eaten it.
Nobody'd eat that, Grandma. It's mank.
You lot have it too bloody easy.
I can remember the General Strike...
- Grandma! - Hmm.
You'll make yourself ill.
Look, it's got mould on it.
- You're driving me mental. - Oh.
Anyway, how come you can remember the General Strike,
but you can't remember where you hid your pasty?
Mmm.
- Ugh! - Grandma!
It's absolutely disgusting.
Where are you going now?
I've got a nice sausage roll on the landing.
Oi, little 'un.
- What have I told you about the bottles? - Sorry, Mum.
- You're gonna be late. - Mum...
- Have you got your 50p? - Dad gave it to us.
- Have you got your trainers? - Yeah. No.
- They'll be in your bedroom. - No, they're not.
- Billy! - I'm absolutely positive they're not.
Found 'em!
You'd forget your head if it was loose.
I think Grandma must have moved 'em.
Mum?
Come on, get them knees up,
you lazy little buggers.
This is a boxing club, not Butlins.
Right, drop down there and give us 20.
Bloody hell!
Oh, no!
What bloody time do you call this, for Christ's sake?
Go on, get changed now.
Do I have to?
Of course you bloody have to. You haven't done any boxing yet.
But it's nearly finished.
- Get changed or I'll knock your block off! - Ow!
Jesus!
Do you call them press-ups, you lazy little twat?
I've seen more life in Maggie Thatcher's knickers.
Right, yous lot, piss off.
- Oi! - Ow!
Where do you think you're going?
I'm pissing off.
You're pissing me off.
You can bloody well stay where you are and fight Joe Bugner there.
I think you've knocked a tooth out.
Serves you right. Over here now! Oi, Michael!
But I need the toilet, sir.
It's not my fault I'm late. I had to see to me Nana.
I'll see to your bleeding Nana in a minute.
Do you think I do these classes for the good of me health?
It's half 11:00, for Christ's sake. Anyone would think you didn't like boxing.
- I don't. - 50p.
You, bonny lad, are getting your 50p's worth whether you like it or not.
But look, everybody else is going home.
Aye.
That's because they've done their boxing.
See you, George.
See you, sunshine.
Wanker!
Oi, Michael, where you going now?
I need the gents'. I give up!
Jesus Christ! Right!
In this alternative universe
that we have created for ourselves,
you are Muhammad Ali and you are Cassius Clay.
Right. Hit him.
Do I have to?
Well, of course you have to hit him.
It's boxing, not flippin' macramé! What, man?
Please, sir, can I have a word?
Aye, you can have two.
- Bugger and off! - Ow!
His dad doesn't even like him coming.
You can shut your cake hole, or else I'll clip you myself.
All right, smart aleck. You hit him.
Ding, ding, ding! Seconds out. Round one.
Come on. Let's do a bit of boxing. That's what we're here to do.
Howay, son! Put a bit of beef into it.
Whoa, whoa, whoa!
Whoa!
Shirley Bassey, what the hell are you doing?
I'm just trying to put him off.
Put him off? It's not a bloody tea dance, man.
- Hit him in the head. - Are you sure?
Of course I'm sure. Twat the little bastard!
Well, get up.
Sorry, Billy.
"Sorry, Billy"?
"Sorry, Billy."
"Sorry, Billy"?
What do mean, "Sorry, Billy"?
He's supposed to hit you, you're supposed to hit him.
It's boxing!
- Jesus Christ! - Are you all right?
Well, of course he's all right, you stupid fat fanny.
Howay, Michael, come on. Let's show him how it's done.
Give us a left.
And a right.
And a left. You see...
You little bastard!
- Sorry, George. - Piss off.
You can stay where you are.
- But... - No buts about it.
You're a disgrace to your father, to them gloves,
and to the fine traditions
- of this boxing hall. - ...of this boxing hall.
I'm off to the picket line.
You can stay here and practise with the punch bag by yourself.
Aye, and make sure Mrs Wilkinson
gets these keys before you leave.
Who?
She's coming.
Chairs!
Oi, Rocky, bugger off.
And arms!
Alison Summers, get that coat off!
Full plié.
Get rid of the pie, Tracey Atkinson. Up.
I'm telling you, Tracey, you will end up like your mother.
And second!
Miss, the keys!
- Who the hell are you? - Billy. Billy Elliot.
Oh, pleased to meet you. I'm Margot.
Margot flippin' Fonteyn.
It was a rhetorical question. Now piss off up there.
Keeley Gibson, how many times have I got to tell you?
But miss, my mum...
I don't care if your mother has got cerebral palsy.
You have to bring your shoes.
Try to keep your arm in line
Come on, at least pretend you're doing fine
Don't forget the golden rule, girls.
Never hide your light under a bushel.
No matter how big the bushel, Tracey Atkinson.
You can wow them every time
Even you, Susan Parkes!
All you have to do is shine
Jetés!
That's it, girls, so our tawdry little lives can be transformed by the power of art.
Forget about content
Oi, you!
Focus on style
Steal an inch on 'em
And they'll give you a mile
Chair!
Everybody ready for the big number.
And smile, smile,
smile, smile!
Right.
We've only got another seven and a half months to rehearse this.
So, for Christ's sake, concentrate!
It doesn't matter if you're large or small
Trapezoid, short or tall
Even if you can't dance at all
All you really have to do is shine
It doesn't matter if your life's a mess
The whole process will coalesce
Girls, just try to effervesce
All you really have to do is shine
Give 'em the old razzle dazzle
Turn on the old pizzazz
Miss, the keys!
There won't be time to shilly shally
Give it backbone, give it welly Bowl 'em over, knock 'em out
Show what life is all about
Give 'em the old razzle dazzle and shine
Oi, you, join in or bugger off!
It doesn't matter if you're unemployed
Only partially humanoid
An octopoid whose mind's a void
All you really have to do is shine
Come on, Debbie, it's your big moment!
It doesn't matter if you're special needs
Maimed or lame, or born in Leeds
They love to see a heart that bleeds
All you really have to do is shine
Give 'em the old razzle dazzle
Turn on the old pizzazz
There won't be time to shilly shally
Give it backbone, give it welly Bowl 'em over, knock 'em out
Show 'em what life is all about
Give 'em the old razzle dazzle
And shine!
Oi.
Where the bloody hell do you think you're going?
I'm going home.
Oh, no, you're not. You haven't done any dancing yet.
What do you mean, dancing?
You wanna stay.
Be in the show.
Oh, no. It's gonna be rubbish.
I couldn't give a monkey's cuss
I couldn't give a fig
Come on, son, get over it
It's all part of the gig
Smoke, Mr Braithwaite, please.
That's it, girls, hide behind those fans.
No faces now, just tiny smurfs!
Give 'em the old rinkle tinkle
Out, in!
Show 'em the old kabam
Line!
Knock 'em sideways Blow their minds out
There's no time for half-arsed frolics
Grab the buggers by the bollocks
Show 'em what class is all about
Give 'em the old razzle dazzle
And shine
Lights!
It doesn't matter if you're short or squat
Cerebrally challenged, completely shot
You might have it or might not
All you really have to do is
Shine
Give 'em the old razzle dazzle
And shine
Give 'em the old razzle dazzle
And shine
50p's.
Oi, you owe me 50p.
- No, I don't. - Yes, you do.
- What for? - Your lesson.
You don't think I do this for the good of me health, do you?
What you on about? That wasn't a lesson.
Of course it was a bloody lesson. It nearly killed me.
Margaret Gormley!
Admittedly, your fan work wasn't so hot, but you have quite a nice turnout.
- A what? - 50p, stop pissing about.
I haven't got 50p. I spent it on boxing.
Well, you can bring it next week.
What do you mean "next week"?
Well, you're coming back, aren't you?
You've got to be joking. To this crap?
Please your Bessie! Debbie, bring me stuff.
So what do you reckon?
You look like a right dickhead to me.
Grandma! What are you doing?
I know it's here somewhere.
You've hidden it.
Grandma. That's me private stuff!
- What's that? - Nothing.
It's private. Mum left it for me.
Where's she gone?
She's dead, Grandma. You were at the funeral.
Was I?
'Course you were. She was buried next to Granddad.
Not him and all.
Christ, Billy, they're dropping like flies.
For Christ's sake.
- I've got you a pasty. - Really?
From the Co-op.
Just don't tell Dad I was late or anything.
Go on, then.
Oh, come off it. Do you really not remember about Granddad?
Of course I do.
How could I forget your Granddad, Billy?
We were married 33 years.
So what was he like, like?
He was
a complete
bastard.
I hated the sod
For 33 years
We should never have married
Of that I'm quite clear
He spent the housekeeping money
On whisky and beer
And never lifted a finger
Times were hard
But the swine rolled back pissed
So we'd fight and he'd swing
And he rarely missed
So I clobbered the sod
When he couldn't resist
Asleep, you can't lift a finger
But we'd go dancing
And he'd hold me tight
He was air, he was water He was breath, he was light
And he would hold me there with all his might
And it was bliss for an hour or so
But then they called time to go
And in the morning
We were sober
Oh! He'd drink and he'd talk
Just like a fool
Lie like a bairn and snore like a mule
Rarely was sober, pretty much was the rule
And he never lifted a finger
I suppose times were hard
Things were different then
Women were women and men, they were men
Seventeen, that was it, your life ended
When you had a ring around your finger
But we'd go dancing
He was my own Brando
And for a moment there My heart was aglow
We had dust in our hair and nowhere to go
But we were free for an hour or three
From the people we had to be
And in the morning
We were sober
But if I went through my time again
Oh, I'd do it without the help of men
Or at least your Granddad
But then again, you know
Best not to linger
What is the use of dreaming now?
I had my chance, well, anyhow
If I'd only known then what I know now
I'd have given them all the finger
And gone dancing
And not give a shit
Spin around and reel and love every bit
And I'd dance alone and enjoy it
And I'd be me for an entire life
Instead of somebody's wife
And I never
Would be sober
And I never
Would be sober
What are yous doing here?
Keeping the peace.
What for, like? There's nothing going on.
Well, we're doing a good job then, aren't we?
Now sod off.
- So are you going to go back then? - What, to ballet?
- Plenty of lads do ballet. - Aye, puffs.
- Not necessarily. - Who, like?
What about Wayne Sleep? He's not a puff.
Anyway, I don't know why you bother going. You're crap at it.
No, I'm not.
Anyway, I don't have much choice, do I?
Oi, Debbie, get a move on.
How do you put up with her?
Oi! How would you like it if I slagged off your mum?
- Me mum's dead. - Oh.
See you then.
Everybody, positions, please. Girls to the front.
And five, six, seven, eight, turn!
And rocking the baby, stretch.
Pie, Tracey Atkinson.
Debbie, you're late, girl.
And washing those windows, five, six, seven, eight.
- Hello. - Hello.
- Shoes. - I haven't got any.
Well, you have now. Put them on.
As two groups.
I can't wear them. I'll look like a right sissy.
Well, you should have thought about that before you came in.
- 50p. - What?
50p.
Again, six, seven, eight.
Arms, Susan Parkes.
- What about last week? - Rip-off!
Crossing!
Well, you joining in or what?
Debbie, count, girl, count for Christ's sake.
Oi, Billy Elliot!
And airing the sheets.
And hang them on the other line.
- What am I supposed to do? - Get down for starters!
- I just gave you 50p. - Travel back. That's lovely.
- What do I do? - Follow the others.
And marching forward to socialism, and...
I don't know what I'm doing.
Arms, Sharon Percy.
Miss, I don't know what to do.
Floor-Barre.
What barre?
Plié. Tendu second.
Plié. Tendu close.
Développé devant. Left leg.
Oi, Geordie, wanna see something you've never seen before?
Right leg.
And that's just off the overtime Wanna see some more?
Left leg.
You think you're smart, you cockney shite You wanna be suspicious
Two lines.
When you were on the picket line
We went and fucked your missus
- All of us at once. - All of us at once.
Solidarity, solidarity Solidarity forever
All for one and one for all Solidarity forever
Solidarity, solidarity Solidarity forever
All for one and one for all Solidarity forever
Girls to the centre.
Right, here's the lesson you've all been gagging for.
Pirouettes, God help us.
Right. I want you all to find a spot on that wall.
That'll be this wall, Susan Parkes.
And I want you to focus on that spot.
Do not take your eyes off that spot.
Right, then you turn your bodies around and your head follows,
but your head is the last thing to leave
and the first thing to come back, understand?
- Yes, miss. - Yes, miss.
Everybody in the centre.
Thank you, Mr Braithwaite.
And here we go,
and one, two, three, Billy...
...five, six, seven, eight.
And for God's sake, spin 'em, Mr Braithwaite, spin 'em!
I'm spinning them, Mrs Wilkinson, I'm spinning them.
Absolutely bloody hopeless, the lot of you.
And you're the worst of the bleeding lot, Billy Elliot.
Okay, forget it, forget it. Everybody in the corner.
We'll do some chaînés.
And five, six, seven, eight. Go, go, go.
Beautiful arms, Susan Parkes. Lovely, much better, Alison Summers.
Gold star, Keeley Gibson.
Try not to kill yourself, Tracey Atkinson.
Oi, Rudolf Nureyev, over here.
Okay.
Class dismissed.
Keep it up till Christmas, lads It means a lot to us
We send our kids to private school on a private bus
We've got a lot to thank you for Geordie, you're a corker
A nice extension on the house and a fortnight in Majorca
Solidarity, solidarity Solidarity forever
Don't worry, lads, we're on your side Solidarity forever
Solidarity, solidarity Solidarity forever
We're proud to be working class Solidarity forever
You're late.
Look, Jackie, I wanted to have a word.
If things are a bit difficult for you, we could sort something out.
What do you mean?
I mean, if things are a bit tight with the 50p's.
50p's?
Yes, man, your Billy's not been to boxing for over four weeks now.
What do you mean he hasn't been goin' to boxing?
If he hasn't been goin' to boxing, where the bloody hell has he been going?
Solidarity, solidarity Solidarity forever
We're proud to be working class Solidarity forever
- Quiet in my lesson. - Oi!
Where've you been going Saturday mornings?
Boxing, where'd you think?
- Dad. Dad, home. - Boxing?
- Tony's waiting. - I'll see you later, young 'un.
Okay, girls, forget about what's going on outside. Just concentrate.
- Do some soubresauts. - Yes!
And five, six, seven, eight.
Shoulders down, pointed feet.
Pretty arms, Sharon.
That's both arms, Keely Gibson.
Feet in fifth, tendu second, thank you, Debbie, plié fifth, retiré.
And five, six, seven, eight.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight
- You're crap at that. - No, I'm not.
Lovely legs, Tina.
Arms, Debbie.
Arms! Temps levé!
Susan Parkes, you look like a spastic starfish.
- You're crap at that. - Oh, piss off, man, will you?
Oi! Attitude. Promenade. Prepare and...
What's the time?
No, on the wall.
Pick up the biscuit.
Much better, Sharon. Arms up, Billy.
Debbie, get your bum in, for Christ's sake.
Other way round, Susan Parkes.
Lovely little fairies on top of your music boxes.
Elbow.
Wrist.
Tummy.
Chin.
Please, Mum, can we have a go?
Right.
Baskets of pansies, ladies.
Yes, thank you, Mr Braithwaite.
And five, six, seven, eight.
You fucking worms, you fucking moles
You fucking Geordie shits
We're here to kick your Geordie arse You little Geordie gits
We're terrified, we're petrified Those words are so obscene
We'll boot your fuckin cockney skulls right back to Bethnal Green
Ha!
- And one. - Two, three.
- And two. - Two, three.
- And three. - Two, three.
- And four. - Two, three.
- And five. - Two, three.
- And six. - Two, three.
And smile, smile, smile, smile.
Solidarity, solidarity Solidarity forever
We're proud to be working class Solidarity forever
Solidarity, solidarity Solidarity forever
We're proud to be working class Solidarity forever
Billy, spot!
Come on, lads, get at them Really get stuck in
It's not a bleeding tea dance Do the fuckers in
- Solidarity, solidarity - Shine
- Solidarity forever - Just shine
- We're proud to be working class - Shine
- Solidarity forever - Just shine
- Solidarity, solidarity - All you have to do
- Solidarity forever - Is shine
- We're proud to be working class - All you have to do
- Solidarity forever - Is shine
- Prepare for pirouette. - Hit it!
- Solidarity, solidarity - One, two, three, four
- Solidarity forever - Five, six, seven, eight
- We're proud to be working class - One, two, three, four
- Solidarity forever - Five, six, seven, eight
Ever, ever, ever, ever
- Ever, ever, ever, ever - Forever, forever, forever, forever
- Ever, ever, ever, ever - Forever, forever
- For ever and ever and ever and ever
- Forever, forever - And ever and ever and ever and ever
- Forever, forever - For ever and ever and ever and ever
- Forever, forever - And ever and ever and ever and ever
Forever and ever
And ever!
What the bloody hell's going on here?
Can I help you?
What the hell do you think you're playing at, son?
- Naught. - Naught?
I thought you were at boxing.
You're here messing about with lasses in tights.
- Excuse me! I'm trying to teach a class! - Shut it!
But it's healthy, man, Dad. It's just like sport.
- Ballet? - It's not just puffs that do ballet, you know.
Look at that Wayne Sleep.
Wayne Sleep?
Wayne Sleep!
He's as bent as a nine-bob note, son.
I am busting my bollocks trying to find you 50p's
and you were running around in here like a fruit!
Mr Elliot, I've never heard anything so bigoted and ridiculous in my life.
Don't you call me bigoted, you ignorant cow.
- But I like it, Dad. - Right, that's it.
No more bloody boxing, no more bloody ballet.
From now on, you're stopping at home to look after your nana.
Listen, if anyone's going to do the ordering around in here, it's gonna be me.
You listen to me! This is my son,
so don't you dare tell me what to do.
This is ridiculous. You're supposed to be encouraging us to do things.
Well, I don't see why he shouldn't do ballet.
Fred Warmsley used to do it.
Yeah, but he was crap.
Well, I don't give a fuck about Fred Warmsley or any of you.
You are banned. Full stop.
I hate you.
You're a bastard!
Oh, shit!
Well, that was a very mature and intelligent way to handle the situation.
Don't you ever come near our Billy again!
Oh, Jesus Christ!
Okay. Class dismissed.
What did you have to do that for? Now I'm banned!
I don't want to come to your stupid ballet anyway.
I'm not even any good at it.
- Bullshit, Billy Elliot. - No, it's not.
It's absolute bullshit and you know it.
Billy, I know this might sound a bit weird,
but I've been thinking about the Royal Ballet School.
The Royal what?
The Royal Ballet School.
Aren't you a bit old, miss?
Not for me, you stupid idiot. For you.
They have regional auditions soon in Newcastle.
But what about my dad?
It'd take a lot of work,
but I thought if you had some proper lessons with me on your own,
you might have a chance of getting in.
But I've only just learned to pirouette!
They're not looking for something fully formed that's leapt from the brow of Zeus.
They're looking for potential, Billy.
They teach you the ballet.
But I'm banned, miss.
- For Christ's sake. - Shit! You can't come in here.
Just come after school.
Nobody else need know.
You don't fancy us, do you, miss?
No, funnily enough, I don't.
I don't think I've got time. I mean, when would I play out and that?
Look, Billy, if you want to stick round here
and piss about with your little mates, that's fine with me.
Look.
I'll be here on Monday night. Just bring some things with you
and we'll make up a special dance for the audition.
- What sort of things? - Things that mean something to you.
Things that tell me something about who you are.
See you Monday, then?
Well, sod you, then.
See if I care.
Michael!
Fucking hell!
What?
You're wearing a dress.
I know.
Is it yours?
Course it's not mine, you stupid idiot. It's my sister's.
Do you want a go?
No. Look, I need to talk to you.
Are you sure? You can borrow one of my mum's.
- What you doing? - I'm just trying it on you.
Oh! That's mank.
Won't we get wrong?
"Will we..." Bollocks. My dad does it all the time.
Hold it.
Michael!
That's me!
You know that week after I had to stay behind at boxing?
Oi!
When I had to give that wife the key?
Howay.
I did some ballet.
- You did ballet? - Just a few steps and that.
It's fucking weird, if you ask me.
Bingo! Cush!
- What? - Separates. Trackies off.
The wife says I'm good at it.
She's asked us to do an audition for the Royal Ballet.
The Royal what?
The Royal Ballet School.
Do you get to wear a tutu?
Don't be daft. That's only for the lasses.
I wear me shorts.
- Smile. - What are you doin'?
One for the album.
Ugh.
Here, put this on.
Arms!
So do you think I should go back and do the audition?
I wouldn't if I were you. People'll think you're mental.
But you dress up in women's clothing.
- That's different. - Is it?
'Course it is. Time for a look in the mirror.
- Go on, then. - Yes!
And the finishing touch!
Oh, for crying out loud!
See, man, there's naught wrong with dressing up in women's clothing.
Is it sinful if you're blue
To cheer up the place?
Ah!
What is wrong with dressing up in satin and lace?
Oh, no!
Get some earrings, some mascara
Heels and a fan
Pretty soon you will start to feel
A different man
Olé, baby!
What the hell's wrong with expressing yourself?
Being who you want to be?
Howay, join in.
Will anybody die if you put on a dress?
Who the hell cares if your blusher's a mess?
Start a new fashion Buck all the trends
Emphasise integrity
Shake them shoulders, Billy.
Shut up, you puff.
'Cause what the hell is wrong with expressing yourself?
For wanting to be me?
What the hell's wrong with wearing a dress?
Being who you want to be?
Who the hell is it you try to impress?
All you have to do is learn to care less
Start a new fashion Buck all the trends
Billy, sing something to me.
Whoo!
'Cause what the hell is wrong with expressing yourself?
For trying to be free
Sing it, sister!
If you wanna be a dancer, dance
If you wanna be a miner, mine
If you want to dress like somebody else
Fine, fine
Let's get these dresses dancin'!
It's not a big statement It's not a weird act
Just a good idea at the time
We'll not complain about your boring life
If you'll just leave me to mine
If you wanna be a dancer, dance
If you wanna be a miner, mine
Shoes!
- I'm gonna beat you, Michael. - No, you're not.
Yes, I am.
- One shoe. - That's one shoe!
- Oh, no, two shoes. Michael wins! - You cheat!
Come on! Loser!
Push!
Follow me!
Arms!
- Keep up, Billy! - I'm trying, Michael!
Shimmy shake! We gotta do something better than that.
Oh, like what?
- Like this! Six, seven, eight! - Whoa!
Show time!
Smile!
- So what do you think, dancin' boy? - Not bad.
You ain't seen nothin' yet!
One, two, three, four.
Here they come!
What's that?
Me dresses!
Come on, Nana.
Trousers?
Women's clothing only!
Scene change!
From the top!
Oh, yeah.
Whoo-hoo!
Five, six, seven, eight!
Everyone is different It's the natural state
It's a fact, it's plain to see
The world's grey enough without making it worse
What we need is individuality
Go on, then!
Finish!
What are you doing with that?
Naught.
Well, put that back where it belongs.
- This has got nothing to do with you. - Hasn't it?
You're going nowhere with that.
Don't you tell me what to do.
Just put it back, son.
Look, this isn't Camberwick fuckin' Green, Dad, man.
If you want to go down there
and get the shit kicked out of you, that's up to you.
Oh, Che Guevara.
Don't be so bloody stupid, man.
There are 2,000 police on the doorstep.
Argh!
Did you see what they done to Harry Robson?
They broke both his bloody legs, man.
Yeah, so the last thing we need is you in hospital as well.
Please, just put it back.
Put it back.
Make us.
I said, put it back.
What are you going to do about it, like? Hit us?
Come on, then.
Come on!
No.
You've been a complete waste of space since me mum died.
Useless piece of shit!
Stop it!
Stop it, please.
What the bloody hell are you looking at?
Oh, hello. I thought you weren't going to show.
I had to wait until me dad went out.
Well, better late than never.
Come on, best get started.
Have you brought your special things for the dance?
Well, I've brought a few bits of stuff and that,
but I didn't really know what you meant.
Well, let's see, then.
Rubik's Cube.
- TV theme tunes? - Yeah.
Mmm!
Baked beans.
- What's that? - It's a packet of soup, miss.
What the bloody hell's that for?
I don't know.
Billy, I asked you to bring things that mean something to you.
I know.
Well, how the hell am I going to make up a dance
about baked beans and a cup-a-soup?
Oh, I don't know.
At the risk of being totally boring,
dancing is as much about you discovering things about yourself
as it is about discovering about dancing.
Do you understand?
What?
Look, it's not just about the steps. It's all about you.
Why does it have to be about me for?
Jesus Christ.
'Cause I say so.
What's this?
It's a letter.
I can see it's a letter.
You can open it if you want.
Thank God for that. The suspense was killing me.
It's from me mum.
Your mum?
She wrote it for us for when I was 18,
but I opened it a few years early.
I see.
You can read it if you like.
Read it out.
"Dear Billy, I must seem a distant memory...
"Which is..."
"...which is probably a good thing.
"And it will have been a long..."
"Long time.
"And I will have missed you growing
"And I'll have missed you crying
"And I'll have missed you laugh
"Missed your stomping and your shouting
"I'll have missed telling you off
"But please, Billy
"Know that I was always there
"I was with you through everything
"And please, Billy..."
"Know that I will always be
"Proud to have known you
"Proud that you were mine
"Proud in everything
"And you must promise me this, Billy
- "In everything you do..." - In everything you do...
Always be yourself, Billy
And you always will be true
Don't go.
And I'll have missed you growing
And I'll have missed you crying
And I'll have missed you laugh
- Missed your stomping and your shouting - "Missed your stomping and your shouting
- I'll have missed telling you off - "I'll have missed telling you off
- But please, Billy - "But please, Billy
- Know that I was always there - "Know that I was always there
- I was with you through everything - "I was with you through everything
- And please, Billy - "And please, Billy
- Know that I will always be - "Know that I will always be
- Proud to have known you - "Proud to have known you"
Love you forever
"Mum."
She must have been a very special woman.
No.
She was just me mum.
Right.
Oh, Mr Braithwaite! I thought you'd abandoned us.
I just got a little detained at the Rose and Crown.
What's he doing here?
Well, you're going to need something to dance to, aren't you, you little wanker?
You see, there are two main theories about dance.
One is that it's basically technical,
something you learn from the outside and then repeat.
Or it's a very personal expression that you realise from within.
What's she on about?
Well, basically, it was all down to Diaghilev, who ran the Ballets Russes,
who wanted to revolutionise what had become a purely decorative medium
and reconnect it with dance's chthonic roots as a primordial means of expression.
Eh?
He did a BTEC at Sunderland Poly.
What Mr Braithwaite means is that you have to release your inner caveman,
and everything else will just flow naturally.
Hit it, Mr Braithwaite!
We weren't born to stand still
Ain't a question of will
What are you doing? Miss!
Gotta move, it's a fact
We were born to react
We weren't made to behave
Like we will in the grave
Join in!
When the music is played
Oh, the soul will be swayed
And your feet, they will move
As if only to prove
Whoo!
That it wasn't by chance
We were destined to dance
We were born to boogie
Yeah!
We were born to boogie
It ain't a puzzle
'Cause we're blood and muscle
From the Day of Creation
We were the dance sensation
Right! Let's have some proper dancing!
Oh, your feet and your hands
Whoa!
Oh, your toes and your glands
Your eyes and your skin
Well, your face and your chin
Oh, your brawn and your brains
Come on!
Your balls and your chains
We were born to boogie
It ain't a puzzle
'Cause we're blood and muscle
From the Day of Creation
We were the dance sensation
We were born to boogie
We're all born to
Gee, my bum. My bum.
Let's start at elementary level.
Five, six...eight.
- Long leg. - One.
- Stretch. - Two.
- Point. Flex. - Three.
- In front, behind. - Four.
- Eyes front. - Five.
- And in and in and over. - Six.
- Face the barre. Oi, shift. - Seven.
- Retiré. - Eight.
- Turn out. - Nine.
- Shoulders down. Chin up. - Ten.
- Rise, balance. - Eleven.
- That's it, Billy. - Twelve.
Chassé turn.
Intermediate level.
Use the floor.
Strong arm, Billy.
Around,
again, and in and in, and chair.
- Oh, miss, I can't do it. - Yes, you can. Push down.
Miss, I can't do it!
Yes, you can! Push down, Billy.
Balance.
All right, let's have it!
Next level.
That's it, Billy!
Oh, shit!
Right. Let's go, Baryshnikov.
Try this.
Watch me, Billy!
Shoes!
Sweat, Mr Braithwaite.
Easy.
Not bad for a big fella.
I'm concentrating!
- Faster! - Faster!
Oh, Jesus!
Cheeky monkey!
Go, miss.
I'm doing it, you cheeky monkey!
- Boogie! - Boogie!
We were born to boogie
We're all born to
Boogie
Are you nervous for your audition?
Hmm, not really.
You wanna be. You're shite.
I thought your mum said I was cush.
I wouldn't listen to her. She's sexually frustrated.
Really?
Well, me dad was doing it with this wife at work
but then he got made redundant.
He used to be a deputy manager, but now he's an alcoholic.
Bugger off, will ya?
Billy?
What, man?
Do you not fancy us, like?
Well...
I've never really thought about it.
If you want, I'll show you me fanny.
Nah.
You're all right.
Debbie! Outside!
Right, here's the tape.
And remember, once the audition starts, just concentrate.
Do exactly what you do in here and you'll be fine.
Fuck a duck, miss, I know. You've told me this before, man.
And another thing, Billy. Try and keep your mouth shut.
Right. I'll pick you up tomorrow morning at 8:00, here. Okay?
Listen... You can do this, Billy.
You've worked so hard, and I know you can do it.
You just have to forget about everything else.
Do it for you.
Mum.
Mum!
Right, Billy.
I'll pick you up tomorrow morning.
And for God's sake, don't be late!
We've got to be in Newcastle by 9:00 on the dot.
- Don't worry, miss, I'll put me alarm on. - "Put me alarm on."
Ow! Get off us, will you, man?
We should get you to the hospital.
How the hell are we supposed to get him to the hospital?
They've got the whole place surrounded, man.
He can't stay here. They're after him.
Ow!
Fucking hell, man!
Anyway, the Union will sort it out.
The Union will sort out fuck all.
Right. You saw what they did for Harry Robson, man!
The Union are doing what they can.
This isn't a strike any more. It's a bloody class war.
Shit!
We should get him to hospital.
How the hell are we supposed to get him to a hospital?
There were 2,000 police taking six scabs to work.
Leave it!
- What's going on? - It's all kicked off.
There's about a hundred police coming through the village.
Where do you think you're going with that bag?
Nowhere. Out.
Get back upstairs.
But I said I'd see Michael.
- You're going nowhere today, son. - Dad!
Back upstairs! Now!
Look, I'll be right back.
- For Christ's sake. - Shit!
What is the matter with you today?
Hello.
- Can I come in? - Hang on a minute.
- What the hell's going on, Billy? - Just go away, miss.
I've been stood outside the Welfare for three quarters of an hour.
Do you know what the time is?
What the hell's she doing here?
You realise we're late already, don't you?
Late for what, for God's sake?
Please, don't tell him, miss.
Will somebody tell me what the hell is going on here?
- Just go away! - No, Billy.
We're going to have to sort this one out once and for all.
Look, I know this will be a little difficult for yous to understand,
but I think I have to tell you...
No, miss!
Billy has an audition this morning for the Royal Ballet School.
The Royal Ballet?
School.
- Where they teach the ballet. - Oh.
You've got to be joking.
Billy has been coming to class
and I have been giving him private lessons for the last two months.
What? Who gave you permission to teach him ballet?
Mr Elliot, we're missing the audition as we speak.
Hang on a minute!
Have you any idea what we're going through in this village?
Ballet?
You trying to make him a scab for the rest of his life?
He's only 12, for Christ sakes.
You've got to start training from when you're young.
Shut it, you.
I'm not having any brother of mine poncing round for your gratification.
Excuse me, this is not for my gratification.
Billy is exceptionally talented...
What good's it going to do him? He's only a bairn, for Christ sakes.
What's wrong with giving him a childhood?
I don't want a childhood. I want to be a ballet dancer.
I'll give you a bloody childhood in a minute.
What qualifications have you got?
Teaching 12-year-olds in a miners' welfare.
You could be a nutter for all I know.
I think you should calm yourself down, son.
Right. Argh! You say he wants to be a dancer.
Well let's see this dancing then.
- This is ridiculous. - Tony, man...
Shut up!
Come on. If you're supposed to be a ballet dancer, let's be havin' you.
Don't you dare!
What sort of ballet teacher are you?
This is his big chance!
Come on! Dance, you little bastard!
- No. - No.
He says he doesn't want to dance.
So we'll be having no more ballet.
And if you come near him again,
I'll smack you one, you middle-class cow!
Hang on a minute!
You don't know anything about me, you sanctimonious little shit.
What are you scared of,
that he won't grow up to race whippets, grow leeks, and piss his wages up the wall?
Fuck off!
I've been with this boy for weeks now,
and you, and you haven't even noticed.
So don't you lecture me on the British fucking class system, comrade.
Tony, the police are coming down the street. Everyone out the back. Now!
Tony, now! Move, man, move!
I'm sorry, Billy, you haven't got a hope in hell.
Jackie, away, man.
- Me mum would've let us. - Well, your mum's dead.
Jackie!
Dad, you bastard!
Shit.
Piss off, man! Fuck you! Fuck yourself!
Fuck off, you paps!
Fuck off!
Solidarity, solidarity Solidarity forever
All for one and one for all Solidarity forever
Get out, bastards!
Dig deep for the miners. Dig deep for the miners.
Welcome back to the second half of the Easington District Miner's Welfare
temporary soup kitchen annual Christmas party!
I'm deeply moved.
Now, we may be eight months into the strike, but are we downhearted?
No!
Come on, you can do better than that. Are we downhearted?
No!
That's more like it!
So, let's make this the best Christmas party we've ever had.
But before we do that, it's time to draw the winning ticket
in the special meat prize draw raffle.
But before we do that, I would just like to thank the various groups
who have donated meat to the special Christmas strike pot.
Firstly, Darlington Socialist Group Karate Circle
have given us a couple of chops.
Hetton-Le-Hole Amateur Operatic Society
have given us a load of tripe and a pile of ham.
And finally,
I would just like to thank our lovely comrades from Newcastle upon Tyne.
- Where are they? Give us a wave!
Oh, there they are, Tony.
The Newcastle upon Tyne Polytechnic Lesbian and Gay Caucus...
...who have given us some mince and faggots,
and a nice juicy Cumberland ring.
So, here's me best mate and sparring partner, Mr Billy Elliot.
And the winning ticket is, not that one.
Eight and four, 84.
So, if you've got this ticket, come up and see Santa
and he'll give you a nice piece of meat.
Oh, yes, he will.
Hey, Santa!
Whatta?
Can you hear it in the distance?
Can you sense it far away?
Ooh!
Is it old Rudolph the Reindeer?
Is it Santa on his sleigh?
- It's heading up to Easington - It's heading up to Easington
- It's coming down the Tyne - It's coming down the Tyne
Oh, it's bloody Maggie Thatcher and Michael Heseltine
So Merry Christmas, Maggie Thatcher May God's love be with you
We all sing together in one breath
Merry Christmas, Maggie Thatcher We all celebrate today
'Cause it's one day closer to your death
Two, three, four, look. Two, three, four, attack!
And now, welcome to the stage
a couple of volunteers from the Sunderland Barnardo's.
They've come to raid your stockings
and to steal your Christmas pud
But don't be too downhearted It's all for your own good
The economic infrastructure must be swept away
To make way for business parks
And lower rates of pay
So Merry Christmas, Maggie Thatcher May God's love be with you
We all sing together in one breath
Moo!
Merry Christmas, Maggie Thatcher We all celebrate today
'Cause it's one day closer to your death
And now, have we got a surprise for you.
The Easington District Miner's Welfare
present their political puppet workshop forum!
Okay, lads, let 'em have it!
And they've brought their fascist boot boys
And they've brought their boys in blue
And the whole Trade Union Congress will be at the party, too
And they'll all hold hands together
All standing in a line 'Cause they're privatizing Santa
This merry Christmastime
So Merry Christmas, Maggie Thatcher May God's love be with you
We all sing together in one breath
Merry Christmas, Maggie Thatcher We all celebrate today
'Cause it's one day closer to your death
Merry Christmas, Maggie Thatcher May God's love be with you
Yeah!
We all sing together in one breath
All together now!
Merry Christmas, Maggie Thatcher We all celebrate today
'Cause it's one day closer to your death
Oh, my darling, oh, my darling Oh, my darling Heseltine
You're a tosser, you're a wanker
And you're just a Tory swine
Yeah!
Right, who's next to give we a song?
No, Dad, no!
No, no, no, no, no.
Not after last year.
Now, I can see just the man,
Mr Jackie Elliot!
Give us Big Spender, Jackie!
Big Spender! Big Spender!
I'm not singing Big Spender,
I'll sing you all an old folk song.
No, we don't want an old folk song. It's boring.
It was one of my Sarah's favourites.
It was three years ago last week she died.
- Dad, come on, man. - I'm all right.
Oh, once I was a young man
I looked over vales and hills
Saw myself a future of riches and of thrills
But on me 15th birthday
I paid my union dues
And they sent me deep into the ground
Oh, the winter wind can blow me colder
Oh, the summer's heat can parch me dry
But I'll not leave here for a fortune
I shall never leave here till I die
Oh, once I had a family
Sons to make you proud
They have gone and left me
And I count the time out loud
Now I am an old man
Just waiting for me turn
Till they send me back into the ground
Oh, the winter wind can blow me colder
Oh, the summer's heat can parch me dry
But I'll not leave here for a fortune
I shall never leave here till I die
Oh, the winter wind can blow me colder
Oh, the summer's heat can parch me dry
But I'll love these dark, dark hills forever
And I won't leave them until I die
Once, I loved a woman
She meant all the world to me
We dreamed ourselves a future
As far as I could see
I was only 37
When they took her down from me
And they buried her...
I cannot.
Oh, the winter wind can blow me colder
Oh, the summer's heat can parch me dry
But I'll love these dark, dark hills forever
And I won't leave them until I die
Merry Christmas, Dad.
Merry Christmas, Son.
Come on, let's go home.
Well, a fuckin great Christmas this has been.
I know. It's been a right load of shite.
All I got was an atlas from the support group. Oi.
Count yourself lucky, all I got was a bloody football kit,
and a signed photo of Kevin fuckin' Keegan!
But I swapped it
for a brand new Cindy the nurse!
Did you ever go back and see that wife?
What wife?
Debbie's mum. The ballet wife. Oi!
No. I've packed it in.
Really?
Well, maybe it's for the best.
At least you won't be running away to that ballet school, will you?
- What's good about that, like? - Well, I'd miss you.
We'd best be going.
Oh, it's freezin' in here.
Wait.
What?
Come here.
What are you doing?
I'm just warming your hands.
You're not a puff or owt?
What gave you that impression?
Aren't me hands cold?
I quite like it.
Just 'cause I like ballet, doesn't mean I'm a puff, you know.
You won't tell anyone, will ya?
Here, put this on.
Cush!
Ah! It's fucking freezing in here!
It's a bit small.
Oh, no, I'm not sure this red will go with me tutu.
Oh, shut up, man!
Come on, show us a bit of ballet then.
No, I've told you, I've packed it in.
Howay, just a little bit.
Just a
little bit.
Just a little bit.
Just a little...
Oh!
I can see why they call it The Nutcracker!
Come on, man.
Well, you do some dancing then.
We'd best be goin', my dad'll be after us.
Your dad's as pissed as a platypus.
No, he's not!
Well, a right barrel of laughs you are.
If you want, you can keep the tutu.
Can I? Cush!
You're not goin' home in it, are you?
'Course I am. No one will notice.
See you, then.
Yeah. Merry Christmas, Michael.
Go home, Billy! Go home!
What can I do for you?
I was looking to speak to Mrs Wilkinson.
Sandra!
Friend of yours.
Oh, hello.
How much is it going to cost, then?
And a very Merry Christmas to you, too.
I've been doing a lot of thinking.
Well, that must have come as a shock to the system.
Who is it, Mum?
Bugger off, Debbie, will ya?
I know I shouldn't have come.
Not at all, it's Christmastime. Good will to all men and all that.
Look, would you like to come in?
I just need to know,
is he actually good enough?
For what?
I don't know, for the school, the audition.
Well, we'll never know, will we?
Maybe he'd have gotten in.
Maybe he'd have joined the Ballet Rambert.
Maybe he'd end up on the scrapheap, like everybody else.
How the hell should I know?
Nothin' we can do then.
Wait!
Actually, we could still get him to an audition in London.
Well, it's not too late, then?
No.
How much is it going cost, this ballet school lark?
Maybe five grand a year. Plus, living expenses.
Sometimes the local authority pay the tuition costs.
Five grand?
I was talking about the audition.
Oh, it's nothing. 20 quid or something.
- Mum! - Five grand!
We haven't even got the money for a bus fare to London.
If it's just a question of the bus fare...
Mum!
Piss off, Debbie. I'm busy.
I don't want your money.
I didn't come here for charity. He is my son.
Oh, for Christ's sake,
when are you going to get over your pig-ignorant working class pride?
The kid is gifted. He's got a chance.
What have you got to offer him? Mining?
This town has had it. It's finished.
You're fighting a battle that was lost years ago.
I'm not the enemy, Mr Elliot. We're all in this together.
So for God's sake, talk to me.
Let me help.
I want to thank you for everything you've done for our Billy.
I really appreciate it.
Is that it?
Yeah.
This is ridiculous. Why don't you come inside...
I'm the one who got us into this mess!
I'll be the one who'll get us out of it.
Oi, Sandra!
Well, stuff you, then. See if I care.
Merry bloody Christmas.
Right, let's be having you. Gormley.
Here.
Davidson.
Aye.
Summers. Summers?
I haven't seen you before.
Jackie? Jackie Elliot.
Christ, I never expected to see you here.
Aye, well, things change.
Well, I'm glad to see you've come to your senses, mate.
Piss off, man, will ya?
Howay, then. All aboard the Skylark.
Scab, scab, scab, scab, scab, scab, scab, scab...
Fucking scab bastard!
Fuck ya!
You fucking scab bastard!
You fucking scab!
Dad!
Dad, what are you doing, man?
Dad!
I can't take this any more, So n
It's tearing me apart
It's lost, we're finished, man, we're through
I need to give the kid a future
I need to look him in the eye
And believe me, Son, I'd do the same for you
You can't give in now, Dad. We've all been out a year.
I'll never be able to talk to you again
You can't do this to me, Dad. You can't do it to yourself.
He's just a kid, he's only just a bairn.
But he could be a star for all we know
And we don't know how far he can go
And no one else can give what I can give
What the fuck are you talking about, man?
No one else can give what I can give
Dad!
He could go and he could shine
Not just stay here counting time
Son, we've got the chance to let him live
We have got the chance to let him live
This isn't about us, Dad. It's not about the kid.
It's all of us, this is everybody's chance.
It's everybody's future It's everybody's past
It's not about a bairn who wants to dance
It's about our history. It's about our rights.
Think about the sacrifice we've made
It's what you always taught us since I was a kid
Please, Dad, don't let that passion fade
For Christ sake, Jackie.
But he could be a star...
Oh, fucking hell!
...for all we know
And we don't know how far he can go
It's about our history. It's about our rights.
And no one else can give what I can give
It's what you always taught us!
No one else can give what I can give
Go fuck yourself!
We're all in this together, Jack
There is another way
All for one. And one for all
Take this and this
And this and this
Don't worry, lad, we'll never let you fall
He could be a star for all we know
And we don't know...
I don't know...
So we'll give all that we can give
We will all give all that we can give
We will go and we will shine
We will go and seize the time
We will all have pride in how we live
Yes, we'll all have pride in how we live
That makes 19 pounds, 17 and a half pence. And 12 pesetas.
It's not enough for the bloody bus fare.
Don't forget about the 30 pound from the 50p's.
You can't do that, man. I thought that was for a new bag.
Well, we'll be supporting the arts!
Just because we're a boxing club doesn't mean we're a bunch of Palestines.
Eh?
Philistines!
Anyway, you're wasting your time, man, scrabbling round for 50p's.
Hey! I've worked hard for them 50p's.
You've never done a hard day's work in your life, man.
Anyway, we're not scrabbling round. We've nearly got enough.
You haven't nearly got enough, man.
You haven't even got enough for the ruddy B and B, man.
This is bloody hopeless.
What the hell do you want?
I don't want any trouble.
Yeah, well, get out then, 'cause we don't have scabs in here.
Here, son.
What's this?
- It's for the bairn. - Yeah?
I don't fuckin' think so, give us it.
- We're not taking anything from you. - Hang on a minute!
No. We don't have dirty money in here.
But it would pay for everything.
For Christ sake, Tony.
Give the bairn a chance, man.
We're not taking it.
Scab!
There must be hundreds here. Can we use it, Dad?
Go on, then. Do your audition.
What's left here, eh?
We're screwed. They've already started going back.
Go on, take the fuckin' money. Go to London.
What's the point in trying to keep the community together?
What's the point in trying to keep your pit open?
What's the point in trying to keep your family together anyway?
- Tony. - No.
So, can we use it, Dad?
We will go and we will shine We will go and seize the time
We will all have pride in how we live
- We will always stand together - We will all have pride in how we live
In the dark, right through the storm
- We will stand shoulder to shoulder - Yes, we'll all have pride
- To keep us warm - In how we live
Is this it?
Well, they said on stage.
Whoa!
Oi, Dad, look! That man looks like Arthur Scargill.
He does, doesn't he? Look, look, look. He's even got the comb-over and everything.
Is that absolutely necessary?
Name?
Billy. Billy Elliot.
And your son's name, Mr Elliot?
I beg your pardon?
You are here for the auditions?
No.
No, man. He's Billy Elliot.
Occupation?
He's still at school.
No. Your occupation.
I'm a miner.
Gosh.
You mean you actually go underground?
Not at the minute, like. We're on strike.
Right, This way, please.
Just the children.
We're holding the auditions on stage today.
Thank you.
Frightfully nerve-wracking, isn't it?
I beg your pardon.
Frightfully nerve-wracking.
Do you know, sometimes,
I think I get more nervous at these things than my Thomas.
Well, it's wor forst time, like, y'knar.
I beg your pardon.
It's wor forst time,
like, y'knar.
- First audition. Sorry. - Ow!
God, man! Get off me!
Dad. Dad, for Christ's sake! I've changed me mind.
Just get back in there, you little git.
- Hold on a minute. - Security!
Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. Please clear the stage,
ready for Royal Ballet School auditions at 2:30,
followed by a 7:15 performance this evening. Thank you.
And you would happen to be...
Billy.
I'm sorry?
Billy Elliot. From County Durham.
Well, stand on the spot, please, William.
Please clear the stage,
this afternoon's auditions are about to commence.
Clear the stage. Thank you.
William Elliot.
William, what is that you're holding?
It's me money.
Your money?
For the audition. Some of it's in 50p's, but the rest is from the scab.
Would you like to put it down now?
Sorry.
And now, the piece that you've prepared.
You do have some music for us?
Uh, no. I've got a cassette I made with Mrs Wilkinson...
Shit... Shite.
Sorry.
It's all right. It's always doing this.
I can get it back.
Have you got a pencil?
It's the next bit, you'll have to wind it on.
You all right, pal?
Aye. Aye.
Sorry...
Would you like a smoke?
Thanks.
Thanks very much.
Where the bloody hell are you from?
Glasgow. Where the hell did you think, Milton Keynes?
I came down when I was 13.
It's a wee bit nerve-wracking, isn't it?
It's not exactly what I expected him to be doing.
Aye, my dad was just the same.
Oh, aye?
Oh, Jesus Christ!
I suppose that, uh, well, he's used to it by now, is he?
No, he's a complete arsehole.
You get right behind your bairn.
Understand?
Yeah.
Prick.
Mr Elliot. No smoking in here!
No, no, we're all right, he's...
Sorry, sorry. I'll, uh...
No!
Are you all right?
What's the matter?
It was a complete waste of bloody time.
Oh, don't be so silly.
It's only a stupid audition.
Piss off.
Look, it's all right.
Piss off, ya bent bastard!
What on earth is going on here?
- Thomas! - Shit.
Billy.
Mr Elliot.
I'm afraid, Mr Elliot, that mutual respect and self-discipline
are absolute prerequisites of any pupil at this school.
Such displays of violence
cannot be tolerated under any circumstances.
Do you understand?
Billy's really sorry.
He's been under a lot of pressure lately.
Just a few questions to finish with.
Could you tell us why you first became interested in ballet?
I don't know. I just was.
Well, was there any specific aspect of ballet that caught your imagination?
- The dancing. - He dances all the time.
Every night after school. He does all the, you know...
Yes, we have a very enthusiastic letter from a Mrs Wilkinson.
She has also explained your personal circumstances.
Are you a balletomane, Mr Elliot?
I beg your pardon.
Are you a fan of the ballet?
I wouldn't exactly say I was an expert or anything.
You do realise that pupils are expected to attain the highest standards,
not only in ballet, but also in their ordinary academic work.
A child can only succeed with the 100% support of his family.
You are completely behind Billy,
are you not?
Yeah. Yes.
Yes, I am.
Would you like to ask us any questions?
No.
Are you sure there's nothing else you'd like to say?
Well, in that case, we will let you know in due course.
Just one more thing.
Can I just ask you, Billy,
what does it feel like when you're dancing?
I can't really explain it
I haven't got the words
It's a feeling that you can't control
I suppose it's like forgetting Losing who you are
And at the same time something makes you whole
It's like that there's a music playing in your ear
And I'm listening and I'm listening and then I disappear
And then I feel a change like a fire deep inside
Something bursting me wide open Impossible to hide
And suddenly I'm flying Flying like a bird
Like electricity, electricity
Sparks inside of me and I'm free
I'm free
It's a bit like being angry
It's a bit like being scared
Confused and all mixed up and mad as hell
It's like when you've been crying and you're empty and you're full
I don't know what it is It's hard to tell
It's like that there's some music playing in your ear
But the music is impossible Impossible to hear
But then I feel it move me
Like a burning deep inside
Something bursting me wide open
Impossible to hide
And suddenly I'm flying
Flying like a bird
Like electricity, electricity
Sparks inside of me
And I'm free, I'm free
Electricity sparks inside of me
And I'm free, I'm free
Free
I'm free
Hey! Hey!
Have a safe journey home.
Mine.
And, Mr Elliot, good luck with the strike.
Billy, did you really chin one of the dancers?
I didn't actually chin him, I just sort of pushed him over a bit.
You'll be trying for the royal boxing school next.
Howay, now, lads. Maggie, Maggie, Maggie.
Out, out, out.
All right, Billy? How did you get on at your audition?
Good.
Well, fingers crossed, eh?
Yeah. Thanks, Lesley.
All right.
Anyway, I'm quite glad, really.
You heard anything yet?
No. Not yet. Howay, Michael, let's get out of here.
Oi, Billy Elliot. Have you heard owt yet?
No, not yet!
Well, divint worry, you'll get in, ne bother.
Oh!
Do you reckon?
What, that? He's got no chance.
I thought you said he were a genius.
Genius? Is he, bollocks.
If I was his father, I'd chop his bloody legs off.
Post!
Christ.
- This is it. - Well, let's open it then, shall we?
What do you mean? We can't open it. It's for the bairn.
- That doesn't matter. - Of course it matters.
How would you like it if someone opened your post?
Well, when was the last time that I got a letter?
We could steam it open.
Give us it here.
Look, it's not fair. It's for the bairn.
We could take a knife and slice along the bottom.
Look, nobody's gonna slice anybody along the bottom.
Oh.
Grandma, I'm warning you.
For Christ sakes.
Right, we're gonna leave it here.
We're gonna leave it here.
We're gonna leave it here for Billy
for when he gets home.
- Come on. Let's just open it! - Just fuckin' leave it!
- He's not gonna know... - Let it go...
Give it here!
Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!
See you, Billy.
Yeah, see ya, Michael.
Shit.
Open it, Son.
"William Elliot is queer."
Oh, no!
"Esquire"!
Just open it, man.
Open it, for Christ sakes!
Just go ahead, man.
Down, down, down!
Well?
I didn't get in.
Oh, Billy.
I'm sorry, Son.
Oh.
Billy.
Never mind, kiddo.
You little bastard!
He got in, man! He got in!
Who do you think you are kidding, Mr Hitler
If you think Old England's done?
You little bugger. He got in!
Did you not hear us, man? He got into the school!
Have you not heard?
Heard what?
We're going back. Strike's over, Jackie.
I've just had a call from the regional committee.
They've caved in.
We've lost.
- We've lost everything. - So that's it, then?
A whole fuckin' year?
- It'll be all right, Dad. - All right?
When you come back here, Billy,
everyone you know will be unemployed.
In this village, in the next village and the village after that,
and the village after that.
In 10 years, there won't be any pits left.
We're dead.
We're dinosaurs.
200,000 men.
We can't all be fucking dancers.
We'd better get down the hole.
Anyway, congratulations, bonny lad.
I always said you'd get in.
Better get down the hole.
You all right, son?
I'm scared, Grandma.
Scared?
What are you scared of?
I'm not sure I want to go. Can't I stay here?
No.
No, you can't stay here.
We've rented your room out.
Not funny, Grandma.
Did you really get in?
Uh-huh.
Will you sign this for us?
Shh!
Hello.
Can I help you?
I just came to tell you, I got in.
Oh.
Well, me dad thought you should know.
It's all right. They sent us a letter when it happened.
Miss, I know I should have come before, but, you know...
I can imagine.
Okay, girls, toilet break.
Debbie, go on.
And miss, I just wanted to say thanks, miss.
For everything that you did.
I could never have done it without you, miss.
Well, good luck, Billy.
Thanks.
Well, goodbye.
Goodbye, then.
I'll miss you, miss.
No, you won't, Billy.
You'll get down there and realise what a crap little dancing school this was.
What a complete second-rate training I gave you.
And then you'll spend the next five years unlearning everything I taught you.
- No! - It's all right.
That's the way it is.
No, you don't understand,
I'll come and see you every time I come back, miss.
Here's a piece of advice, Billy.
Piss off out of here.
Don't look back. Start everything afresh.
There's sod all left for you here.
You are very fucking special.
Now, piss off before I start to cry.
Okay.
And, Billy. Good luck.
Good luck as well, miss.
Yeah, thanks.
Thanks, Billy.
Once we built visions on ground we hewed
We dreamt ofjustice and of men renewed
All people equal, in all things
We once were heroes
Once were kings
But all great things must come to pass
We know the first will soon be last
And in the ground we may be lain
But a seed is sown to rise again
So we walk proudly
And we walk strong
All together
We will go as one
The ground is empty
And cold as hell
But we all go together when we go
Knock 'em dead, kiddo.
Yeah.
Thanks, Tony.
See you, sunshine.
We saw a land where wealth was shared
Each pain relieved, each hunger fed
Each man revered, each tyrant killed
Each soul redeemed, each life fulfilled
From each man's means to each his need
We saw a time man would be freed
We fought for all the things we saw
The battle's lost but not the war
So we walk proudly
And we walk strong
All together
We will go as one
The ground is empty
And cold as hell
But we all go together when we go
We will go down but our heads are proud
We will go down with our voices loud
We will go down but come again
And we all go together when we go
We walk proudly and we walk strong
All together we will go as one
The ground is empty and cold as hell
But we all go together when we go
We walk proudly and we walk strong
All together we will go as one
The ground is empty and cold as hell
But we all go together when we go
We walk proudly and we walk strong
All together, we will go as one
The ground is empty and cold as hell
But we all go together when we go
We walk proudly and we walk strong
All together we will go as one
The ground is empty and cold as hell
But we all go together when we go
You'd forget your head if it was loose.
Bye, Mum.
Bye, Billy.
See you soon?
No. I don't think so. Do you?
No. Not really. I wrote you a letter.
A letter?
Me reply.
It's a bit scrumpled.
Dear Mum...
"And please, Mummy know that
"I will always be
"Proud to have known you
"Proud that you were mine
"Proud in everything
"And I promise you this, Mummy"
In everything you do
Always be yourself
Mummy
And I always will be true
Love you forever
Billy.
Mum.
Bye, Mum.
Oi, dancing boy!
See you, Michael.
Yeah, see you, Billy.
Lights!
Girls!
Now, boys!
Oh, yeah!
One more try!
Six, seven, eight!
Five, six, seven, eight!
It doesn't matter if you're large or small
Trapezoid, or short or tall
Even if you can't dance at all
All you really got to do is shine
It doesn't matter if your life's a mess
The whole process will coalesce
Just try to effervesce
All you really gotta do is shine
Everyone is different It's the natural state
It's a fact, it's plain to see
The world's grey enough without making it worse
We need individuality
'Cause what the hell is wrong with expressing yourself?
What we need is individuality
Move over, dancing boy.
It's time for the next generation.
Whoo!
Five, six, seven, eight!
Keep on smiling!
Oh, yeah!
Oi! Oi! Oi!
We've got to have something better than that.
We need some backup.
Five, six, seven, eight!
Let's do this!
One!
Two!
Three!
Four!
Finish!