This film contains some strong language.
HORSES GALLOPING
HE WHISTLES
He's comin', he's comin'!
CROWD CHEERS
GUNSHOTS
All right, now, let's give a good Colorado welcome here!
Hello, sir.
Thank you, thank you.
Everybody, listen up. I want to introduce you to Oscar Wilde.
Welcome to the Matchless silver mine.
Today we opened up a new seam. We're going to name it after you.
How very kind. I look forward to collecting the royalties.
Now, why don't you follow me over here?
Great lecture you gave last night.
We're truly honoured to have you visit us.
If you'd step in here. There.
SHOOTING
I thought I was descending into hell
but with these angels to greet me, it must be paradise.
Is this the way to my seam? I should have preferred gold.
But we live in a silver age, alas.
So much that is exquisitely beautiful is wrought from suffering,
from pain, from toil, broken bones and blistered skin.
Benvenuto Cellini understood silver.
He transformed the metal that you mine so nobly into art
for popes and princes.
Cellini? Is he a wop?
A Renaissance man. In every sense.
The greatest silversmith the world has seen.
A genius in life as well as art. He experimented with every vice.
He committed murder.
He killed a man?
More than one.
Thank you.
Why didn't you bring Cellini with you?
I'm afraid he's dead.
Who shot him?
Is Miss Lloyd connected to Lloyd's Bank?
No, no.
Pity.
She's comfortable. A thousand a year.
I congratulate you, Lady Wilde.
Now that Oscar's been to America, sown his Wildean oats,
it's time he settled down.
Weren't they very rough?
No, charming. Well, to me.
They can be brusque. They hanged two men in the theatre
just before I gave a lecture.
I felt like the sorbet after a side of beef.
I know your friend is famous, Ada. Notorious, at least.
But I don't understand for what.
For being himself, Lady Mount-Temple.
Americans talk wonderful slang.
I did hear a lady say, "After the heel-lick, I shifted my day goods."
What on earth did she mean?
She changed her clothes after an afternoon dance.
Connie, my love, Lady Mount-Temple is so anxious to meet you.
I knew your father, Miss Lloyd.
She's delightful. And not stupid. Not stupid at all.
Is that quite a reason to marry her?
Well, I must marry someone.
And my mother has our future planned out in every detail.
I'm to go into parliament, live a settled life.
Literature, lectures, the House.
Receptions for the world at five o'clock.
How dreary.
Your Sphinxiness will only be essential
for our intimate dinners at eight.
'Twill be a grand, charming life.
I see Constance will be busy preparing the dinners.
What will she contribute to the literature?
She'll correct my proofs.
Oh, what a little sunbeam.
I do love her, Ada. She's...
Silent.
I find her very silent.
But so sympathetic.
And I do need an audience.
I don't see how you can possibly take it in, reading at that speed.
Try me.
I know better.
Where are we dining tonight?
At the Leversons'.
You must show yourself as a propagandist for dress reform.
Cinnamon cashmere trousers and the cape with the ends
that turn up into sleeves.
I don't think I can wear those trousers now.
IRISH ACCENT: A new Wilde for the world! Another genius for Ireland!
We shall have to buy you a whole new wardrobe.
Ernest proposed under that statue.
The things that go on before works of art are appalling.
The police should interfere.
We were made not to marry,
whereas you and Constance are happy. Everyone says so.
It's monstrous how people say things behind one's back
that are absolutely true.
So your audience has proved responsive?
Receptive, yes. Responsive... I always wonder what she's thinking.
I expect it's about the baby.
She's such a natural mother
she's invited Robbie home while his parents are abroad.
Robbie is Canadian. You can tell by his youth.
Have you been brought to England to mature, Mr Ross?
It doesn't seem to be working.
I've lived here since I was three and you see the pitiful result?
Robbie comes from a line of imperial governors.
His grandfather was prime minister of Upper Canada. Or was it Lower?
The British apply their class system even to continents.
Are you planning to govern a continent?
I don't even plan to govern myself.
Hello, sir!
Shall I give you these, my love? I'll see if I can find a cab.
Looking for someone?
< Cab! Cab!
Bed time.
Just one more cigarette.
Oscar?
Er, no, thanks, Robbie.
Don't stay up too late, Robbie.
Good night.
Good night, Oscar.
Good night, Robbie.
Shh.
He's asleep.
He's so beautiful.
Almost as beautiful as his mother.
I don't know what I'd do without you.
My constant Constance.
Good night, my dear.
Good night.
A university education is admirable, if you remember
that nothing worth knowing can be taught, least of all at Cambridge.
But you told me in Greece, in ancient Greece,
older men taught the younger. They drew them out.
I look forward to being drawn out immensely.
Yes, well, Greek love, platonic love,
is the highest form of affection known to man... Of course.
You told me the Greeks put statues of Apollo in the bride's chamber
so she would have beautiful sons.
But I can't help noticing that here the statue's in your bedroom.
Constance prefers a bath.
She was so beautiful when I married her, Robbie. Slim,
white as a lily, such dancing eyes.
I've never seen such love in a pair of eyes. She was...
"Nothing should reveal the body...
"but the body."
Didn't you say?
There has to be a first time for everything, Oscar.
Even for you.
CHILD CRIES
There's a good fella. Come on, now.
There. Now, come on, Cyril, it's time for your bath.
Be a good boy.
Don't make such a fuss!
Shh.
You've got to get undressed.
I know you hate it.
Boys never do what they're told.
We're going to have a girl next time.
I must go.
Good night, my dear.
Behave, Cyril. A gentleman should take a bath at least once a year.
I shan't be back till late. I'm dining with the Asquiths.
D'you love me?
I feel...like a city that's been under siege for twenty years.
Suddenly the gates are thrown open, the citizens come pouring out...
..to breathe the air, walk the fields and pluck the wild flowers.
I feel...
relieved.
You don't worry about Constance?
'Every afternoon, the children used to play
'in the garden of the selfish giant.'
Is that the garden where we play?
No, it's larger and lovelier, with soft green grass.
There's grass where we go.
But are there twelve peach trees
that have blossoms of pink and pearl in spring and rich fruit in autumn?
Are there, Mama?
I don't think there are, Cyril.
Would you hand me a matchstick? I'll put the hussar's head back on.
The birds sat on the trees and sang so sweetly
that the children used to stop their games to listen.
"How happy we are here," they said.
How could they be happy if there was a giant?
There wasn't yet. He was away.
You're always away.
But I only go for a night or two and I always come back.
The giant had been away for seven years, seeing an ogre in Cornwall.
After he'd said all he had to say - his conversation was very limited -
he decided to return home to his own castle.
When he found the children, he was very angry.
"What are you doing here?!" he cried
and all the children ran away.
"My own garden is my own garden,"
said the giant, "and I won't allow anyone to play in it except myself!"
He built a high wall, put up a large notice board on which was written,
TRESPASSERS WILL BE PROSECUTED.
Arthur, you're trespassing.
Cyril will now eat you.
It's Mr Ross, sir, with Mr Gray.
I must fly. The horses of Apollo are pawing impatiently at the gates.
I beg your pardon? Papa must go.
You will come back and finish the story?
Of course I will.
Come on, it's almost tea time.
I don't know why people bother painting portraits now.
You can get a better likeness with a photograph.
But a photograph is just one moment in time,
one gesture, one turn of the head.
Portraits are not likenesses. Painters show the soul
of the subject, the essence.
The essence of the sitter's vanity?
Well, this is a portrait of Lady Battersby as a young woman.
She's over there, as a matter of fact.
I must go and console her.
Poor thing.
I expect in her heart
she thinks she looks like this. To be young
and innocent forever...
Would we want to?
If our souls were ugly, yes.
Give a man a mask and he'll tell you the truth.
Have we had enough of this? Shall we have dinner somewhere?
'Dorian Gray is the most wonderful book I've ever read.'
And the end, when the servants break in
and find him wisened, old and dead and the picture young again!
I fainted.
My family say it's dull and wicked.
Dull? SHE LAUGHS
Oh... It's sublime.
It's about the masks we wear as faces.
And the faces we wear as masks.
That my son should have written a work of such...
People say it's full of dangerous paradoxes.
Hardly anyone will speak to us any more.
We're ceasing to be respectable.
Artists care nothing about respectability.
It's only jealousy.
It's the spite of the untalented for the men of genius.
Where is Oscar?
He's in the Lake District, writing a play.
A drama?
A comedy.
Robbie Ross has gone to keep him company.
I do like Robbie.
And they both love you.
It'll be a great success.
Oscar's made for the stage.
APPLAUSE AND CHEERING
< Magnificent!
Bravo!
Ladies and gentleman, I have enjoyed this evening immensely.
The actors have given us a charming rendering of a delightful play.
Your appreciation has been most intelligent. I congratulate you
on the great success of your performance, which persuades me
that you think almost as highly of this play as I do myself.
Splendid, Oscar. An absolute triumph!
Thank you so much.
It went so well, Oscar.
Even better than I'd...
They loved it, they absolutely loved it.
And I, dear boy, love you.
Congratulations, Oscar. >
Thank you.
Mr Wilde, wonderful.
Oscar.
Sphinx.
You really must be careful. You're in grave danger of becoming rich.
It was wonderful! Everyone wants to know who the real Lady Windermere is.
The real one is every woman in this room. And most of the men.
Oscar. Lionel.
A wonderful play. My cousin, Lord Alfred Douglas, is here.
He would very much like to congratulate you.
Oscar, this is Bosie Douglas.
We met last year. Lionel brought me to tea at Tite Street.
How could I possibly forget?
I love your play. The audience didn't know if you meant your jokes.
You shocked them. Especially with your speech.
But the more frivolous you seem,
the more serious you are. I love that.
Thank you. The young are the only critics
with enough experience to judge my work.
We need shocking.
People are so banal. You use your wit like a foil.
You cut through all the starched shirt fronts. You draw blood.
It's magnificent.
I wish you'd draw some blood down in Oxford.
You'd need a miracle. All the dons have dust in their veins.
At which college do you educate the fellows?
Magdalen.
My own college. I shall claim the privilege of a graduate
and take tutorials with you.
Come soon, then. They're threatening to send me down.
How could they be so cruel to one so beautiful?
Dons - they're so middle class.
My dear Oscar,
you've shocked London, smoking on stage.
Then we shall run for a year.
You must say something to Marion Terry.
She was good. So good that I think she wrote most of the lines herself.
Excuse me, Lord Alfred.
Bosie, please.
Bosie.
'"My own garden is my own garden," said the giant.
"So he built a high wall all around it and put up a notice board.
"Trespassers will be prosecuted.
"He was a very selfish giant.
"The poor children had now nowhere to play.
"They tried to play on the road
"but the road was dusty and full of stones and they did not like it.
"They used to wander around the wall
"and talk about the beautiful garden inside.
"'How happy we were there,' they said to each other."
I hope he was a very beautiful boy.
Well, pretty, you know, in a street Arab sort of way.
There's no point being blackmailed by an ugly one.
What's tiresome is he's threatened to show my letters to my father.
Who will show them to his friends for the excellence of their style.
No. No. You don't know him. He's a brute.
Really.
He carries a whip wherever he goes.
He used to beat my mother.
He beat my brothers.
He thrashed me...
My dear boy.
Course, he's practically illiterate.
Probably wouldn't understand the letters.
By an unforgivable oversight, I've never been blackmailed
but I believe £100 usually suffices.
Really? God! You promise?
Hm. Leave it to Lewis, George Lewis, my solicitor.
He knows what he's doing. He acts for the Prince of Wales.
PIANO PLAYS
WEAKLY BUT TUNEFULLY: # Ah, leave me not to pine alone and desolate
# No fate seemed fair as mine
# No happiness so great... #
Isn't he killing, Mr Wilde?
He's perfect.
He's perfect in every way.
# And sung in accents clear
# This joyous roundelay
# He loves me
# He is here
# Fa la la la
# He loves me
# He is here
# Fa la la la
# Fa la. #
APPLAUSE
It was lovely. Well done, Bosie. >
Absolutely enchanting. >
I don't want to sit here. I want to sit there.
You heard what Lord Alfred said.
I want everyone to look at us.
I want everyone to say, "There's Oscar Wilde with his boy."
So, what shall we let people see us eating?
Foie gras and lobster. And champagne.
For two. We do everything together.
Very good, Mr Wilde.
I think he enjoyed thrashing me. All my family are mad. >
My uncle slit his throat last year in a railway hotel.
Which station?
Euston.
Ah. All life's really serious journeys involve a railway terminus.
And now I must go to the station myself.
Sarah Bernhardt thinks she knows better than I do how to play Salome.
Stay.
Please stay.
At least until this evening.
Sarah is divine, as you are.
She will be wonderful at the play's climax when Salome kisses the head
of John the Baptist.
"Ah, thou wouldst not suffer me to kiss thy mouth, Iokanaan."
Iokanaan is an old Hebrew name for John.
"Well, I will kiss it now. I will bite it with my teeth
"as one bites a ripe fruit.
"Yes, I will kiss thy mouth, Iokanaan.
"Thy body is white, like the snows that lie on the mountains.
"Like the snows that lie on the mountains of Judaea
"and come down into the valleys.
"The roses in the garden of the Queen of Arabia
"are not so white as thy body."
'I'm not good enough for him any more.'
I'm just the son of a carpenter, while Bosie...
Oscar's only ever been smitten before.
He was smitten with me, he was smitten with you.
I wasn't smitten.
I loved him.
Well, now he's fallen in love.
I'm halfway to hellfire, I'm not joking.
Someone else was a carpenter's son.
I've given in and become a Catholic.
I find the confession...
wonderfully consoling.
I can't go to confession...
..when I want to kill Bosie.
And myself.
Oscar's furious.
He knew the Lord Chamberlain
wouldn't allow a play with Biblical characters in.
Oscar thinks there should be no censorship.
But there must be! If people said what they meant, where would we be?
When is he coming?
He's not.
He's looking after Lord Alfred.
Douglases are always ill or demented.
One roasted a kitchen boy on a spit.
And Bosie's father, Lord Queensberry... He's a dreadful man!
Doesn't believe in God or marriage.
A marquess should set a proper example
or what are the upper classes for?
I tell you, I wouldn't want a daughter of mine to marry a Douglas.
I haven't got a daughter.
Plenty of time still, my dear.
Oh.
Oh, I see.
It's my fault.
After Vyvyan was born, all I could think of was the children.
Ah. So that's why Oscar spends so much time with his men friends.
Oscar needs disciples. Lord Alfred is a poet, a fine one, Oscar says.
He's studying Classics. They talk about Plato.
There's nothing wrong. Really, there isn't.
It's not whether there is anything wrong.
It's whether there appears to be. That's all people care about.
The Empire was not built by men like Bosie Douglas.
"Then the spring came.
"Only in the garden of the selfish giant, it was still winter.
"The birds did not care to sing in it as there were no children
"and the trees forgot to blossom.
"The snow covered up the grass with her white cloak
"and the frost painted the trees silver."
Let's go out.
If you like.
With renters you don't have to consider their feelings.
But one should show gratitude, at least.
No. Money. That's all they want.
What's wonderful about Taylor's is no-one pretends.
You do it and be done with it.
I do love you, Oscar.
But variety is the spice of life.
You can watch me if you like.
You must keep a grasp upon your sobriety.
So I'll be sick on your suit?
That is disgusting.
Evening. Lord Alfred.
Alfred Taylor, this is Oscar.
Delighted to make your acquaintance.
Charles Parker.
Hello, Oscar.
Good to see you again.
Do you smoke? I do everything.
Everything that pays! Expertly, I might add.
Got a lot of experience! >
Mr Wilde, some wine?
Thank you.
It's a nice case.
I want you to keep it.
Thank you.
So, this is a den of vice. I should call it more of a garden.
Pretty flowers. Wise to keep the curtains closed. They would not grow
in the common light of day.
Who are you callin' common?
Not you. You seem to be a flower of the rarest hue.
Bosie never said that you were a botanist, Mr Taylor, that you climb
the peaks of the Himalayas and plunge into the forests of Borneo
to return to this conservatory by Westminster Abbey
to exhibit your specimens.
The boys are all Londoners actually.
Impossible. I see Londoners every day
but never such exotic blooms as these.
Does he always talk like this?
Not when he's in bed.
LAUGHTER
ROBBIE: 'I am discreet. Bosie is too grand and well born for that.'
'He wants everyone to know.'
Oscar, you must understand...
I must be with young people. They're so frank. They make me feel young.
That's all very well. But what would you say if
someone wanted to go to bed with your son?
Cyril's eight.
What will you say when he's 18?
Nothing. He must do as his nature dictates.
'As I only wish I had done.'
"'I do believe the spring has come at last,' said the giant.
"He jumped out of bed and looked out of the window."
What did he see?
You tell me.
No. You tell it.
All right. "He saw the most wonderful sight.
"Through a hole in the wall the children had crept into the garden
"and were sitting in the trees.
"In every tree there was a child.
"The trees were so glad that..."
"..they covered themselves with blossoms!"
Blossoms!
"..and were waving their arms above the children's heads.
"The birds were twittering and singing above them in delight..."
Oscar!
"..and the flowers were laughing."
Oscar, it's time the boys changed or we'll miss the train.
Papa, can't we stay?
Papa's got to work.
He's got to finish his play.
Yes. Poor, dear Papa.
Poor Papa.
Poor, poor, poor, poor, poor Papa!
'Where is Oscar?'
He's working. He is a writer, after all.
I hear your father's threatening to shoot Lord Rosebery.
He usually prefers the horsewhip.
Says he's buggering your brother.
Rosebery is Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs.
Francis is his Private Secretary.
Actually, Francis is about to get engaged.
What's your father talking about, then?
Oh, he's obsessed with sex. He thinks Oscar's buggering me.
As though I'd allow anyone to do that.
I'm sick of the country.
Let's go back to London.
Why bother living together if you're always working?
I have responsibilities, a family.
Oh, God, not that again.
I ask my friends over from Oxford and you just disappear.
I'd be better off at my mother's. At least she's there.
You asked me to take this house...
Well, I'm bored with it.
And with you.
I can't give it up. It's paid for in advance. Until I finish my new...
Bosie, dear...
You have beauty, breeding and, most gloriously, youth.
But you are fantastical
if you think that pleasures don't have to be paid for.
When I want to do anything, you say you can't afford it.
But you give the renters cigarette cases.
I've lavished presents on you!
Every penny from my play was spent on you!
I'm sure you've been counting.
You're so mean and penny-pinching and middle class.
All you can think about is your bank balance.
This is intolerable!
No gentleman has the slightest idea what his bank balance is!
You're absurd! Telling everyone how they ought to live!
You're so vulgar!
I never want to see you again, ever.
All right, if that's what you want, then go! Get out!
Get out!
CYRIL: "But in the farthest corner
"it was still winter, and in it was standing a little boy.
"He was so small, he couldn't reach up to the branches of the tree.
"'Climb up, little boy,' said the tree,
"but the little boy was too tiny."
Egypt is lovely this time of year.
You mustn't idle your time away.
Mother...
And I want you to promise me something.
Not to write to Oscar Wilde.
I can't do that.
Bosie... I love Oscar.
I love him as a disciple loves his teacher.
But he's not fit to teach anything. He's evil.
Do you think your own son could love someone evil?
I just wish I could love Oscar
as loyally, devotedly, unselfishly and purely as he loves me.
But I'm not as good as he is.
I probably never will be.
Goodbye, then.
'I adore simple pleasures. They are the last refuge of the complex.'
But, if you wish, let us stay here.
Yes, let us stay here.
The Book Of Life begins with a man and a woman in a garden.
It ends with Revelations.
Er, yes, er, Mr Tree, may I?
I'm glad that you find my lines funny,
but don't try to make the audience laugh.
They must be spontaneous, natural, as if people always speak like that.
Yes, of course.
< Let's try again.
You should break with Bosie more often, Oscar.
Then we'd have more of your spontaneous and natural plays.
Bosie was envious. That's why he stopped Oscar working.
It's not true. Of course it is.
His poems aren't as good as you pretend.
And he knows it. He's just a shallow little...
Rivulet.
Bosie's a child, a vulnerable child. He needs love.
Oh, we all need love.
But which of us can give it?
# We wish you a merry Christmas We wish you a merry Christmas
# We wish you a merry Christmas And a happy New Year!
# Good tidings we bring To you and your king
# We wish you a merry Christmas And a happy New Year! #
Cracker time!
It is cracker time.
"And the giant's heart melted as he looked out.
"'How selfish I have been,' he said.
"'Now I know why the spring would not come here.
"'I will put the boy in the tree and knock down the wall and my garden
"'will be a playground for ever.'"
"He was really very sorry for what he had done.
"So he crept downstairs and opened the door
"and went out into the garden.
"The little boy did not run away,
"for his eyes were so full of tears that he did not see the giant.
"The giant stole up behind him and took him gently by the hand
"and put him up into the tree.
"And the tree broke at once into blossom and the birds sang on it
"and the little boy flung his arms around the giant's neck
"and kissed him."
Oscar!
I don't care what people think. I love you!
I love you. It's all that matters! It was agony being away from you!
Well, here I am.
Oh, Bosie, you're my catastrophe, my doom. Everyone says so, even me.
I, er, thought you might like something to celebrate your return.
Oscar...
When I saw them in the window,
they begged me on their knees to make them yours.
I'll put them on now. They're superb.
No, no. I'll sit there!
Is there something wrong, my Lord?
This fool wants me to sit by the service door.
Oh, God, my father.
I'm sorry. He's new and didn't know who you were.
Bosie, you're not going to flee?
Give me the menu.
I'll have pea soup and then salmon.
Will you have it with us?
Bosie.
I'm lunching with Oscar Wilde. Will you join us?
I told you never to see that vile cur again.
He's not vile or a cur. He's utterly delightful. Come and see.
How do you know what he's like when you've never met him?
Papa, you're not a man to be influenced by people's opinions.
Oscar, you've never met my father, have you?
Lord Queensberry.
Bosie has told me so much about your exploits on the race track.
I've never heard such bad luck as yours with the Grand National.
Bosie says you would have won if your cousin had let you ride.
Bloody fool said I was too old.
You're never too old. I'd ridden her on the gallops.
Came in at 40 to 1.
No horse could ever have carried me
over the jumps. What are you having?
Pea soup and salmon.
Then I shall join you.
Spring is the time to lunch on salmon.
Though it tastes nicer if you've caught it yourself.
You fish?
I used to. When I was in Ireland.
My father had a charming hunting lodge on an island.
Do you know the west of Ireland?
Not really.
Whereabouts exactly?
The Christians pretend they know who God is. I've no time for that.
I say that if you don't know something, you should say so,
not pretend you believe in some mumbo-jumbo.
I believe in anything incredible.
I shall die a Catholic, though I couldn't live as one.
Catholicism is a romantic religion, with saints and sinners.
The Church of England has respectable people
who believe in respectability.
You get to be a bishop not by what you believe but by what you don't.
That's true enough.
It's the only church where a sceptic
stands at the altar and St Thomas the Doubter is prince of apostles.
No, I couldn't possibly die in the Church of England.
Where do you stand on cremation?
I'm not sure I have a position.
I'm for it.
I wrote a poem.
"When I am dead, cremate me."
That's how it begins.
"When I am dead, cremate me."
What do you think of that for an opening line?
It's challenging.
I'm a challenging man. That's why people don't like me.
I don't go along with the ordinary ways of thinking.
Then we are exactly alike.
Another glass of brandy? I find that alcohol
in sufficient quantities can produce all the effects of drunkenness.
You were there for ages. You stayed talking till after four.
I knew you'd like him.
He's got charm, I admit that.
But that's bad. Men shouldn't be charming. It's disgusting.
I don't think much of his action.
Let's have a look at the bay.
Mind you, Wilde's no fool. Talks wonderfully. Really wonderfully.
But that means nothing when what he says is such rot.
Worse than rot. Evil.
Which is why I insist you stop seeing him forthwith.
Insist? What does that mean?
I will cut off your allowance if you don't do as I say.
Trot him up and down a bit!
Look, Father...
You wasted Oxford, saying you'd go into the Foreign Office.
Thank God you didn't, with that Jew queer Rosebery buggering the juniors.
You just wrote obscene poetry.
My poems aren't obscene.
They're in the manner of Wilde. That's filthy enough.
Have you ever read any of his poems?
I wouldn't sully my mind with perverted trash.
Tell him to pick his feet up! He's not straight!
Are you calling Oscar a pervert? Because that's libellous!
I'm not saying he is one. I'm saying he's posing as one!
Which is worse.
His wife's divorcing him. Did you know that? For sodomy.
That's completely untrue!
I hope it is.
Because if it were true, I'd shoot him on sight.
You will cease to see Wilde or I'll cut you off without a penny.
As though I wanted your money.
What little you have left from your tarts.
How dare you speak to your father like that!
What a funny little man you are!
Bosie! Come back here, you filthy-minded cissy!
You're absurd!
And you're nothing but a bum boy!
You're pathetic!
Bosie!
I'm a bloody good shot! I'll shoot him through the heart!
Use a silver bullet.
Here's one for the Black Douglas! HE FIRES
Bosie, for God's sake!
One for his liver! And his lights! And his stinking rotten soul!
Bosie!
I'll save one for myself.
My own father. He wants to kill me.
My life is everything I ever wanted.
I have fame.
I have recognition.
With two plays about to open in London, I may even have money.
The world is at my command.
Yet I can't command myself.
I can't command my feelings for you.
Thank you.
'Constance, my dear.'
How nice.
Constance!
Bosie.
I brought you your letters.
You haven't been home for so long.
Thank you.
It's convenient for Oscar living in the West End
when he has a play coming on.
I'm like a northern businessman who must keep an eye on his factory.
The boys keep asking for you. They're longing to see you.
Oscar has to make sure the play's a success, Constance.
I'll come round this afternoon. For tea.
It's the dress rehearsal this afternoon.
Tomorrow, then. I'll come tomorrow.
Oh. Tomorrow, then.
Goodbye, my dear.
Goodbye.
Goodbye, Constance. >
Perhaps a cod fish. I've a strong feeling that cod fish live deeper.
Do you think there's skate?
Possibly.
I don't think there'll be anything for our table tonight.
I should stay. You have a cold.
No, no, I'm all right.
Let's get the boys some ices.
Boys, you are to stay and look after Nanny.
I could take the boys to the dentist on Thursday on their way to school.
The point about them having dentistry now
is that they can stuff themselves with sweets before we lose them.
Are you quite sure?
Bosie will look after me.
'Oscar!'
Oscar!
Get your coat on, quick!
I've got a present for you!
Oh, God...
You're not still seedy?
Where have you been?
I need looking after.
Don't be so pathetic.
I've found you the divinest boy.
You promised Constance.
Bugger Constance.
I'm not your nanny. Come on!
Bosie, please.
You look such an idiot lying there. Revolting.
Have you forgotten how to wash?
I'm dying for a glass of water.
You know where the jug is.
Bosie, darling.
It stinks in here. You'll want me to empty your chamber pot next.
I emptied your chamber pot. I looked after you.
Well, I'm not looking after you.
You don't interest me when you're ill. You're just a boring man
with a blocked-up nose.
Bosie, dearest boy...
Shut up!
"Dearest boy. Darling Bosie." It doesn't mean anything.
You don't love me.
The only person you've ever loved is yourself.
You like me, lust after me, you go about with me because of my title.
You like to write about dukes but you know nothing about them.
You're a snob! You think you're daring because you fuck boys.
Bosie, you're killing me.
You'll do when you're at your best. You're amusing.
But when you're not, you're no-one.
I just asked for a glass of water.
For Christ's sake! There you are, then!
Now will you shut up about the fucking water?!
There are two boys out there. If you don't come, I'll fuck them both.
I'll take them to the Grand and fuck them in front of the whole hotel.
And I'll send you the bill.
Drink this.
It will help your fever.
He's ashamed of loving men.
His father bullies him, his mother spoils him
then berates him for being spoiled.
Neither of them gives him any love. They're torturing him.
And what's truly dreadful
is that when he can't bear it and he has one of his...
..he becomes exactly like his father.
And he hates himself for that.
You're too kind about him.
You can't be too kind about someone who's been so hurt.
Yet if I go on trying to come between Bosie and his father,
they'll destroy me.
Bosie's quite capable of destroying you on his own.
Look how much you wrote while he was away.
Two wonderful plays which will run for years.
Back comes Bosie and what have you written since?
Oscar...
You know how much I...
..love and admire you.
But you're throwing your genius away.
For what?
It's ironic. Queensberry thinks
Bosie and I are locked in nightly embrace
and in reality we've been the purest model of Greek love since...
Bosie doesn't like doing it with me.
But I've loved him.
I've educated him.
He's never grown up.
And he never will.
I'm not taking him back, Robbie.
Not again.
I can't.
I've been very foolish, very fond.
But, er, now I must grow up myself.
Oh, please don't do that.
You're an artist. Artists are always children at heart.
Oh, Robbie, I sometimes wonder if...
(Back page, sir.)
My God. Francis Douglas.
What?
Bosie's brother.
He's been found shot. He's dead.
He's just got engaged.
Bosie...
Poor, poor Bosie.
He'll be utterly distraught.
'He killed himself.'
It was my father. He drove him to it.
I'm sure your father's just as upset as everyone else.
No, he's not.
He says it's a judgment on Rosebery and my mother.
And me and you.
We've got to stop him, Oscar.
Before he drives my whole family to suicide.
Bosie... Bosie, I promise you, I won't let him hurt you ever again.
I promise.
It's not enough. I want him stopped.
I want...the whole world to know what he's done...
..what an evil man he is.
Table, my Lord?
Is Lord Alfred here and that shit and sod, Wilde?
No, my Lord. Not tonight.
Bugger must be at Kettners.
Is my son staying here?
Is Lord Alfred Douglas staying here?
Er, no, sir, he's not.
What about Wilde?
No, sir.
If I find they have been staying here,
I'll give you the biggest whipping of your life.
Well, I expect you two would like a drink after your exertions.
I must ask you to leave, Mr Wilde.
What are you talking about?
At once, please.
What's the matter? My father cracking the whip downstairs, is he?
My Lord... Bosie...
You're not frightened of what this little man thinks?
I think the pleasures of the evening should be resumed elsewhere.
You're such a coward! You say you despise convention,
but you're the most conventional man I know.
Come on, then. We're going.
Until tomorrow, Tommy.
Good night, sir.
< There's, like, all this tropical fruit laid out.
Oscar!
Wait a minute, Oscar!
Alfred, how nice to see you. And Charlie, too.
I'm busy this evening, but we must have dinner again soon.
It's not a question of dinner.
I got a letter of yours... to Lord Alfred.
It's a nice letter.
"Lips like roses. The madness of kisses in ancient Greece."
I expect it's one of my prose poems.
A gentleman's offered me £60 for it.
You must accept. I've never received such a sum for a work of that length.
I'm delighted that someone values my work so highly.
He's gone away.
To the country.
I'm sure he'll be back.
Oscar!
Oscar! Look, you couldn't let us have something, could you?
Bit short at the moment, you know.
Of course. Here's half a sovereign.
Take good care of that letter.
Lord Alfred is going to publish it in sonnet form in his new magazine.
For fuck's sake!
Oscar!
It's no good trying to rent you. You just laugh at us. Here.
Thank you.
He can be very careless, Lord Alfred.
What a wonderfully wicked life you lead.
You boys, you boys.
< Where is he?
< Mr Wilde is not...
< Where is he?!
< Get out of my way!
< I'm sorry, sir!
Excuse me, there's a gentleman...
You!
Listen to me.
You're a bugger!
I don't allow people to talk like that in my house, Lord Queensberry.
Or anywhere else.
I suppose you've come to apologise for the lies you're spreading?
Leave my son alone, you sodomite!
The Marquess seems obsessed with people's sexual activities.
It must be to do with his new wife seeking divorce for non-consummation.
Swear you'll have nothing to do with Bosie or I'll go to Scotland Yard!
You can go to the devil, you and...
Who is this gargoyle?
You're a queer! And a sham! A poseur!
If I catch you together, I'll give you such a thrashing.
I believe you once invented some rules for boxing.
I've no idea what they are. But my rule is to shoot on sight.
Now kindly leave my house.
You can shut up!
I shall leave when I'm damn well ready!
It's a scandal what you've been doing.
All the scandal is your own.
Your treatment of your wives, your neglect of your children
and, above all, the depraved insistence
that they be as tyrannical and unloving as you are yourself.
Arthur, this is the Marquess of Queensberry,
the most infamous brute and the least tender father in London.
Never let him into my house again.
Very well, then.
Let's get out of this...stew.
Out the way, man! I'm sorry, sir!
I'm very sorry, but it's just not possible!
What are you doing? Rotten vegetables?
I want you to give that to Oscar Wilde.
Thank you, sir. We'll take care of it.
I wanted to give it to him personally, as a bouquet.
I dare say you did, sir, but you're not going to.
He's a cur.
A sod.
And a bugger!
You remember that!
I always told you, Gwendolen, my name was Ernest, didn't I?
Well, it is Ernest after all. I mean, it naturally is Ernest.
Yes, I remember now that the General was called Ernest.
I knew I had some particular reason for disliking the name.
Ernest, my own Ernest!
I knew from the first you could have had no other name.
Gwendolen, it's a terrible thing for a man to find out suddenly
that all his life he's been speaking nothing but the truth.
Can you forgive me?
I can, for I feel you are sure to change.
My own one!
Laetitia! Frederick! At last!
Cecily! At last! Gwendolen! At last!
My nephew, you seem to be displaying signs of triviality.
On the contrary, Aunt Augusta,
I've now realised for the first time in my life
the vital importance of being earnest.
Allen, you were wonderful! Thank you all so much.
They're calling for you, Oscar!
No, no, George.
RAPTUROUS APPLAUSE
Er, Mr Wilde, sir?
Yes?
For you.
Thank you.
"For Oscar Wilde...
"Ponce," is it? "Ponce and somdomite."
"Posing as a sodomite." He's illiterate, ignorant.
It's hideous.
We've got him now, Robbie.
He wrote it, the porter read it. It's public libel.
We can take him to court.
For God's sake...
Oscar!
You mustn't do that. That would be...
We've been waiting for a chance
to get him in the dock and show what a swine he is.
To me, my mother, my brothers...
He'll plead justification. He'll call the renters as witnesses.
Of course he won't. He doesn't know what a renter is.
No? I hear he's had detectives following you since Egypt.
He can't prove anything. We can.
We can prove he's the vilest man that walked the Earth.
Tear the card up, Oscar.
Are you mad? That's our main evidence.
If Oscar went abroad while your father calms down...
Whose side are you on?
If this goes to court, Oscar will have to tell lies, perjure himself!
Everything will come out. Whatever the result, it'll be disaster!
You're an enemy, then. Bosie...
Robbie, you're a dear boy, but I can't think of leaving the country.
I can't even leave this hotel.
I can't pay the bill.
We can raise you money! What about your royalties?
We need all the money we can get for the libel case.
My father can't go on making all our lives a torment like this.
Oscar, I beg you.
I'm not going to run away, Robbie.
That would the English thing to do.
If you take Queensberry to court, all hell will break loose.
All my life I've fought against the English vice - hypocrisy.
Not that that's the point.
Queensberry's already caused the death of one of his sons.
If I don't try and stop him now, who will he harm next?
'He's avoiding me, Robbie.'
I know what everyone's saying but it's not true. It's not true.
Is it?
Of course not.
Oh, it's so shaming.
I find it easier to stand.
I'm going to Torquay for a month to get my back right.
Oscar's been so busy.
I'm sure he'll be terribly upset
when he knows... you've been in so much pain.
The truth is, I need some money.
I'm not even sure where he is to ask for it.
It does seem rather hard when he's having such success.
I think I can find him.
I keep hearing stories about Bosie and his father.
I'm sure you don't want to.
Oh, yes. I do.
Men think women should be protected by not knowing.
Not knowing only makes it worse.
Is there going to be trouble?
I hope not.
I believe a prosecution
would succeed provided there is no truth
in the accusation made by Lord Queensberry.
Of course there's no truth in it.
Then so long as I have Mr Wilde's assurance that that is the case...
There is no truth in the accusation whatever.
Good.
Excellent.
The defence, I understand, will be led by Mr Edward Carson.
Old Ned? I was at college with him in Dublin.
No doubt he will perform his task
with all the added bitterness of an old friend.
LAUGHTER
In writing a book, I'm concerned with literature,
with art. I do not aim at doing good or evil,
but at making a thing that will have some quality of beauty.
Here is one of your pieces.
"Wickedness is a myth invented by good people
"to account for the curious attractiveness of others."
LAUGHTER
GAVEL BANGS
Do you think that true?
I rarely think what I write is true.
"If one tells the truth, one is sure sooner or later to be found out."
That is a pleasing paradox,
but I do not set very high store by it as an axiom.
Is it good for the young?
Anything is good that stimulates thought at whatever age.
Whether moral or immoral?
There's no morality or immorality in thought.
What about this, then? "Pleasure is the only thing one should live for."
I think that the realisation of oneself is the prime aim of life
and that to realise through pleasure is finer than to do so through pain.
I am on this point on the side of the ancients, the Greeks.
LAUGHTER
'How long have you known Alfred Taylor?'
'About two years, two and a half years.'
Is he an intimate friend?
I wouldn't call him that, no.
But you went often to his rooms?
About seven or eight times perhaps.
Did you know Mr Taylor kept ladies' dresses in his rooms?
No.
Did you know he was notorious for introducing young men to older men?
I never heard it in my life.
Has he introduced young men to you?
Yes.
How many young men?
About five.
What were their occupations?
I really don't know.
Oh, well, let me tell you.
You met a man called Charles Parker there, I believe.
Yes.
Charles Parker is... a gentleman's valet.
You met his brother there, too, I believe.
Yes.
He is a groom.
I didn't care tuppence what they were. I liked them.
I have a passion to civilise the community.
I recognise no social distinctions.
To me, youth, the mere fact of youth,
is so wonderful that I would sooner talk to a young man for half an hour
than, well, than be cross-examined in court.
So even a young boy you might pick up in the street
would be a pleasing companion?
I would talk to him with pleasure. If he would talk to me.
Take him to your rooms?
Yes.
And commit improprieties with him?!
SPECTATORS MURMUR
Certainly not.
You withdraw your libel action
against Lord Queensberry, well and good.
But there remains the question of the evidence.
Lord Queensberry's evidence against you.
My information is that the Crown wishes to pursue the matter.
In which case, an arrest and a charge of gross indecency
are certain to follow.
The maximum sentence is two years' hard labour.
Nine months is reckoned to be more than a man of our background
can survive.
Um, the children, er, the boys...
I-I must go and see them.
You have no time for that.
But my wife... I-I... I have to say goodbye to my wife.
Unless you wish to subject her to the shame of seeing you arrested
and taken away in front of the gutter press,
Mr Wilde, you must go.
Oscar, you must take that train.
Practically everyone you know will be on it.
At least 600 single gentlemen all in abject terror of arrest.
No.
Where your life leads you, you must go.
'I defy society.'
Tell him to go.
He must save himself.
Tell him to go abroad.
I've been telling him all day.
He won't budge.
People have never understood the courage he needed to be himself.
You must go abroad, too.
We must all go abroad.
At once.
Oscar says, will you tell the boys goodbye?
I'm to go through his papers.
I was always too silent.
If I'd known...
Bosie...
If I'd only spoken up.
It wouldn't have made any difference.
Perhaps not. But at least I wouldn't blame myself now.
LADY WILDE: 'You're an Irish gentleman. Of course you must stay.'
Your father fought when he was libelled. I fought.
Yes, I know.
You will fight these English Philistines and you'll win.
'And even if you lose, if you go to prison, you'll always be my son.'
'Well, of course, it's too late to change that now.'
If you go, Oscar, I'll never speak to you again.
No-one will ever speak to me again whatever I do.
Of course I'm your son, Madre.
Which is why, even if I lose, the English will never forget me.
Get out of my way! Get out, get out!
Take me away as fast as you can!
Lady Wilde! Have you anything to say about your son's disgrace?!
'Have you anything to say?'
KNOCK AT DOOR
KNOCK Come in.
Mr Wilde, I believe?
Yes, yes.
We have a warrant for your arrest on a charge of committing indecent acts.
LADY MOUNT-TEMPLE: 'I recommend Switzerland as soon as possible.'
You will have to change your name, of course.
Oh, I can't...
The name of Wilde will be a word of execration for 1,000 years.
You can't let your boys grow up with people knowing who they are.
Think of their lives at school.
Thank you for your advice.
I'm sorry our friendship has to end like this.
Oh, you will always be my friend.
I am still Oscar's wife.
That must cease forthwith. Forthwith. Do you understand?
Anybody who has anything to do with Oscar from now on
will never be received in society again. Ever.
Oh, God, Ada... What is going to happen to him?
That's Oscar Wilde's boy.
You must let me in the witness box. If the jury hear what I say...
Bosie, as soon as they see you in all your golden youth
and me in all my corruption...
You didn't corrupt me. I corrupted you, if anything.
That's not how it will seem.
I must have my say! It's outrageous!
Everyone has said anything that came into his head!
I'm the person this is about. It's me my father wants to get at,
not you! It's outrageous that I can't have my say!
It won't help. It may actually make things worse.
But my father will win.
I can't endure my father winning.
You must go away, dear boy.
I couldn't bear for them to arrest you.
I can't bear what they're saying about you in court.
BELL RINGS
Jesus Christ!
Goodbye, Bosie, dear boy.
Don't let anyone change your feeling for me, change your love.
Time's up, my Lord.
Oscar, never! They never will. I won't let them. I won't let them!
'You've been a great deal in the company of Lord Alfred Douglas.'
Oh, yes.
Did he read his poems to you?
Yes.
So, you can perhaps understand that some of his verses
would not be acceptable to a reader with an ordinary, balanced mind?
I'm not prepared to say.
It's a question of taste and temperament and individuality.
I should say that one man's poetry is another man's poison.
Yes, I daresay.
But in this poem by Lord Alfred Douglas, "Two Loves",
um, there is one love, true love,
which, and I quote,
"fills the hearts of boy and girl with mutual flame"
and there is another - "I am the love that dare not speak its name."
Was that poem explained to you?
I think it's clear.
There's no question as to what it means?
Most certainly not.
So, is it not clear that the love described relates to natural
and unnatural love?
No.
Oh.
Then what is "the love that dare not speak its name"?
The love that dare not speak its name,
in this century...
..is such a great affection of an elder for a younger man...
as there was between David and Jonathan,
such as Plato made the very basis of his philosophy
and such as you may find
in the sonnets of Michelangelo and Shakespeare.
It is in this century misunderstood.
So much misunderstood that it may be described as
"the love that dare not speak its name."
And on account of it, I am placed where I am now.
It is beautiful.
It is fine.
It is the noblest form of affection.
There is nothing unnatural about it.
It is intellectual
and it repeatedly exists between an elder and a younger man
when the elder has intellect and the younger man...
has all the joy, hope and glamour of life before him.
That it should be so, the world does not understand.
The world mocks at it...
and, sometimes, puts one in the pillory for it.
SMATTERING OF APPLAUSE AMIDST BOOING
Oscar Wilde,
the crime of which you have been convicted is so bad
that I shall pass the severest sentence that the law
will allow.
In my judgment, it is totally inadequate for such a case as this.
It is the worst case I have ever tried.
The sentence of the court
is that you be imprisoned
and held to hard labour...
..for two years.
Shame.
Pervert.
Pervert!
Shame on you!
Disgusting!
"A slim thing,
"gold-haired like an angel,
"stands always at my side.
"He moves in the gloom like a white flower.
"I thought but to defend him from his father.
"I thought of nothing else.
"Now my life seems to have gone from me.
"I'm caught in a terrible net.
"But so long as I think he is thinking of me,
"my sweet rose, my delicate flower, my lily of lilies,
"it is in prison that I shall test the power of love.
"I shall see if can't make the bitter waters sweet
"by the intensity of the love I bear you."
'He asked me not to change. Those were his last words to me.'
"Don't change".
Well, things are going to have to change when he comes out.
He'll have no money at all.
So you're blaming me too, are you?
I'm not blaming anyone.
You're not the only person Oscar cares about!
You've always hated me. Because Oscar loved and still loves me
when you were never more than one of his boys.
I'm suffering just as much as he is, you know.
My life's ruined, too.
I'm younger than he is. I've hardly had a life and it's ruined.
When Oscar gets out, we'll live together properly.
We'll take a villa somewhere near here.
Posillipo or Ischia.
Or Capri.
I'll take care of him.
I'll give him everything he wants.
I love him, Robbie.
Oscar's mine and I'm going to have him.
"Years went over and the giant grew very old and very feeble.
"He couldn't play about any more,
"so he sat and watched the children at their games
"and admired his garden.
"'I have have many beautiful flowers,' he said,
"'but the children are the most beautiful flowers of all.'"
I'm afraid Cyril has got some idea of why you're here.
I'm sending them to school in Germany.
I can't manage them on my own.
Your back isn't better, then?
No, not really.
I may have to have an operation.
What I've done...
to you and the boys, I can't...
I shall never forgive myself.
If we could choose our natures...
If we could only choose.
But it's no use.
Whatever our natures are, we must fulfil them.
Or our lives, my life, would have been filled with...dishonesty.
Even more dishonesty than there actually was.
I've always loved you, Constance.
You must believe me.
I don't see how you can have done. Not truly.
Not if all the time...
I didn't know.
"Know thyself," I used to say.
I didn't know myself.
I-I didn't know.
I suppose you want a divorce?
You have every reason.
I've been thinking, when you come out, when they let you out,
you can go to Switzerland or Italy,
write another play, get yourself back.
You can.
You're so clever. You can.
Oscar...
I don't want a divorce.
Will you ever let me see the children again?
Of course.
But there must be one condition.
Oscar, you must never seen Bosie again.
If I saw Bosie now, I'd kill him.
The children love you, Oscar.
They'll always love you.
Did anyone tell you?
They've been performing Salome in Paris.
"The giant hastened across the grass and came near to the child.
"When he came quite close, his face grew red with anger
"and he said, 'Who hath dared to wound thee?'
"For on the palms of the child's hands
"were the prints of two nails
"and the prints of two nails were on his little feet.
"'Who hath dared to wound thee?' cried the giant.
"'Tell me that I may take my big sword and slay him.'
"'Nay,' answered the child, 'for these are the wounds of love.'"
Bosie thinks I'm jealous.
It will come as a shock to Bosie
to realise that even he is unimportant in the scheme of things.
But no doubt he will be remembered as long as Oscar. Unfortunately.
I sometimes wonder...
..if I hadn't, um...
..pushed him into...
Don't. Oscar was very lucky to meet you, Robbie.
Think who else it might have been.
Oh, I'll have that one.
Must you go abroad again at once?
I shouldn't be here now.
But has he got anywhere to go when he's released?
It'll have to be in France.
I'm going to see what I can arrange.
But here...when he leaves prison?
Goodbye, Mr Harris. Goodbye, Mr Snow.
Thank you.
Oscar.
My dear Sphinx.
How marvellous of you to know what hat to wear at seven in the morning
to meet a friend who's been away.
No, I'll keep this.
What is it?
A letter to Bosie, saying how I love him but cannot see him again.
I'll ask Robbie to have it copied before I send it.
I fear Bosie might throw it on the fire.
I call it De Profundis. It comes from the very depths.
"I know not whether laws be right or whether laws be wrong.
"All that we know who lie in gaol is that the wall is strong
"and that each day is like a year,
"a year whose days are long."
"Yet each man kills the thing he loves.
"By each let this be heard.
"Some do it with a bitter look, some with a flattering word.
"The coward does it with a kiss,
"the brave man with a sword."
"Some kill their love when they are young
"and some when they are old.
"Some strangle with the hands of lust, some with the hands of gold."
"The kindest use a knife
"because the dead so soon grow cold."
I'm sure we can find an hotel near here.
Somewhere where you can work.
I've decided to see him again.
Yes.
I thought you might.
I've nothing left.
I've lost my wife, I've lost my children.
They won't allow me to see them now.
No-one will ever read my plays or books again.
Yes, they will.
Bosie loves me more than he loves anyone else.
As much as he can love...
and allow himself to be loved.
I think we need some more wine.
I find that alcohol, taken in sufficient quantities...
..can bring about all the effects of drunkenness.
BELLS RING
Subito!
"Life cheats us with shadows.
"We ask it for pleasure. It gives it to us
"with bitterness and disappointment in its train. And we find ourselves
"looking with dull heart of stone at the tress of gold-flecked hair
"that we had once so wildly worshipped
"and so madly kissed."
Oscar!
"In this world there are only two tragedies.
"One is not getting what one wants.
"The other...is getting it."
IMS Subtitles by Julie Sutherland
E-mail us at subtitling@bbc.co.uk