Life,
in its humdrum sense, is worth avoiding.
It's the factory for father and the kitchen for mother.
It's arguments at the dinner table, missing children on the news,
and, through it all, a sense that things are slowly falling apart.
Is it better to choose another record, flip the lid on the pills
and wait for something to happen?
Is it better to turn out the lights, climb under the covers until sleep invites you
to a world you've always wanted?
Is it better than the one that's in front of us?
Stop being a mad-arse.
Two beers, please.
If you spent as much time looking for a band as you do slagging 'em off,
it could be you up there.
Who even reads the letters pages?
Come on, Steven, I was only pulling your pisser.
Can I get another one?
Shall we go to town on Saturday night?
We could go to that new club on Deansgate.
Yeah, but we'll just sit there like it's a funeral.
Yeah, we could pretend it's yours. You'll like that.
I just think there's more to life than being...
- Right, keep walking. - Pardon?
Keep walking or you'll get twatted.
Just try and act normal for ten seconds.
Dickheads.
Who's she? The Queen of fucking Sheba?
- What's she doing with him? - Ponce.
Have you found a job yet?
No.
Well, you're not gonna find one sitting around on your arse.
There's nothing suitable.
What does that mean, there's nothing suitable?
Leave him alone.
He's gonna have to find a job some day.
- He wants to write. - Write?
He can't even write his bloody name.
Why do you always do that?
Are you alright?
- I can't find Roxy. - No, I meant...
They've been like that for years, Anji.
Is it serious?
Do you want to talk about it?
There's no use bottling things up.
- Life is too short. - For clichés.
Forget it.
You ever think it could have been us?
Buried in the dirt?
Dear NME...
Manchester is a lovely place,
if you happen to be a bed-ridden deaf mute.
The local music scene is the sole preserve of troglodytes
whose regard for subtlety and variation
is comparable to a pig's passion for the slaughterhouse.
The performance was the musical equivalent of a prolonged bowel movement
followed by an unexpected absence of toilet paper.
In case I haven't made myself clear, it wasn't very good.
What about this?
I don't think so.
It's a good job you're not fussy.
Here's one.
'Girl group seeks moaning Minnie.'
- You could do that. - You're not funny.
I don't know what I'm meant to be looking for, do I?
There's no point in you dragging me here every week just to play the cunt.
Halle-fucking-lujah.
Yeah.
Yeah, alright.
Yeah, we will meet you tomorrow.
- Great. Okay. Bye. - Bye.
I've got you a date.
Hey, he's quite fit.
Do you think that's him?
Leather jacket: check. Red hair: check.
I don't like his shoes.
Just look him in the eye and don't cock it up.
Just give me a minute.
You're not meeting the fucking Pope.
Shall we get out there or what?
- We? - I could be your agent.
- Oh, my good God. - Shall I count to ten?
Ten, nine, eight, seven...
- Fine. - ...six, five...
Are you gonna sulk all day?
- I'm not sulking. - What are you doing, then?
I'm sulking.
You're the one who wouldn't talk to him.
The world is not just gonna come to you.
- It might do. - You're ridiculous.
You may as well get a job in Asda.
- What, like you? - Fuck off, mummy's boy.
You know, some of us live in the real world with proper shit to deal with.
I don't need this.
Call me when you've grown a pair.
Look after your mother.
Merry Christmas, eh?
Who's gonna carve your turkey?
Dickhead.
Hiya.
Beer, please.
Are you a DJ?
What's with the record, then?
Hey, lurch.
She's talking to you.
What have you done now?
Have you got any plans at lunch, Steven?
- Yes. - Cancel them.
You're gonna clean up this mess. Get your shit together.
- Nice one. - Knob jockey.
Get back to work, you two.
If there was ever a revolution in England,
we'd form an orderly queue at the guillotine.
Nothing worth doing in life involves repetition.
It's the mind that matters.
The mind allows us to think and feel...
...and see the beauty in things,
where others can only see crank bearings and spark plugs.
My little brother climbing that career ladder.
Please.
Chief pencil sharpener.
I'm not even listening.
Just a beer.
Ta.
I owe you an apology.
What for?
'Steven Morrissey of Stretford certainly likes the sound of his own voice.'
Someone needed to say it.
Thank you.
You need to use more semicolons.
You write really well, but you shouldn't be afraid to use more semicolons.
You know, relax the diction. You're not Jane Austen.
Linder, we're going.
Come to our party. Come on. We can slag off the bands we hate.
This is Steven. He's a published writer.
- Fellow scribe. - Pleased to meet you.
I'm gonna collect my coat.
Be nice.
So you write, then, do you?
Just letters. I've not really published anything.
- A man of letters. - Or a lettered man.
A lettered man would imply a man with a PhD or similar, would it not?
Not necessarily.
A lettered man simply means an academic in the abstract.
You know, in the abstract.
Would you rather be a man of letters or a lettered man?
You're confusing him now, Gordon.
Ready?
- No. - Come on.
- Hiya. - You alright?
Hiya.
Hi.
So what are you saying?
I'm saying that art is in itself.
That's all it can ever be, and it can't become something else.
- You're talking rubbish. - No, I'm not. I'm saying that..
- You're talking about what art is instead of what art can be.
When Rembrandt was painting his pictures do you think he was thinking about what art is
or what it can be..?
These are really...
They're really...
Are you trying to say you like them?
Yes, yeah.
Well, it'll all be for nothing if I don't get it finished.
'I love the silent hour of night, for blissful dreams may then arise.'
Do you have to be somewhere?
I'm gonna be late for work.
Which is where?
The Inland Revenue.
Is it true they all have webbed feet?
You do know there's more to life than dark, satanic mills?
It was a rambling garden of gravestones and...
elderberries.
Alfred sat in the pagoda, looking longingly at his winkle-pickers.
Sounds like... Dickens?
- Dickens? - Just me.
Steven Patrick Morrissey.
A man who decided to dedicate his life
to working for the taxman,
where he stamped documents and licked envelopes...
- ...beautifully. - Oh, so beautifully.
Seriously, you can't be happy working in that place.
Oh, I'm as merry as the days were long.
You can't beat me... Shakespeare.
You can't beat me. Don't even try. Just be yourself.
Everyone else is taken.
- Oscar Wilde. - Shit.
Oi. She's alright, ain't she?
Alright? I'd use her shit for toothpaste.
Let me take you and show you everybody in there.
The wanderer returns.
How many days has it been?
It's six. We'll discuss it later.
Now, I would like to introduce you all to Christine.
Christine's gonna be shadowing young Steven, and keeping an eye on him, I expect.
So, Steven, if you would like to give Chrissie the tour,
show her how things are done round here.
Is that okay, Steven?
You don't say much, do you?
If you want me to help with anything, just let me know.
Do you have any bullets?
What?
So do you have much auditing experience?
I keep a list of people I dislike.
Terry seems nice.
- Terry? - Mr. Leonard.
If you like men who've got a penchant for archaic numerical...
- Do you always talk like that? - Like... Like what?
Using big words.
And your voice is sort of funny, you know, like posh.
Are you from Bolton?
Hello?
I'm here to see Steven.
Who is it?
There's a girl at the door to see Deirdre.
Was he expecting you...
Linder. No, he's not expecting me.
Right, well, go on up, love.
You'll have to bang on the door.
Just hold on.
What are you doing here?
Was that you?
No.
I thought we said we're meeting in town.
Christ. It's like a museum in here.
- Gonna put the kettle on, then? - We don't wanna be late, though.
Nobody watches the support bands.
I do.
Milk and two sugars, Steven.
Just please don't touch anything.
I won't.
I lied.
Hold these. Make yourself useful.
Do you think you can hand some of these out at work?
I don't think that's your target audience.
What have I told you? Think big, Shakespeare.
I think you've got an admirer.
- Oh, God. - You know him?
I think he plays guitar.
- He certainly knows you. - Just stop staring at him.
Excuse me, mate. Have we met before?
You're not in a band or anything?
No, he's not yet. Are you?
Well, trying to get something together. I'm Billy.
Linder. This mute here is Steven.
You got a light, Duffy?
This is my mate, Johnny.
- Are you in his band? - No, I can't sing.
Well, here we go. Maybe see you in there.
Maybe.
- What? - Steven, what are you waiting for?
Just do something. Take a chance.
Even cavemen wrote their name on a wall.
How is the world gonna remember you? Write, sing.
Just don't moan about it when it's someone else's name they remember.
I love that record.
He writes some great lyrics, Strummer.
What do you like about them?
Strummer's lyrics. I'm interested to know.
Don't you find him rather schematic in his self-flagellating world view?
White Riot's a good song.
When you're ready, mate.
I'll make us a brew.
Stick The Clash on if you want.
It's not all... whatever you said.
My mam loves this sort of stuff.
Mine too.
You're late.
Again.
Anything you'd like to say?
Not really, no.
I don't know what you think you're doing, but you're coasting.
You can't just waltz in here any time that suits,
pick up your pay cheque and fuck off at five.
It's not how it works!
Why can't you be more like everyone else?
Right, I want those files shifted.
And don't make me repeat any of this again.
- Which files? - What?
- You're not gonna jump, are you? - No.
- What's this? - Nothing.
Doesn't look like nothing.
'I am sick of being an undiscovered genius.'
Please just give it back.
- What are these? Poems? - No, they're not...
'It is becoming more apparent now, as I get older,
that everyone is an imbecile except me.'
Oh, my God.
- Christine... - Wait till I tell everyone.
Christine...
Under one condition.
Look, can this wait?
- You promised. - Yes, but...
I have absolutely nothing to do with this creature.
Do you promise not to think any worse of me?
No. Hiya.
Hiya.
Steven?
Oh, Christine. Linder, this is Christine.
Christine is an esteemed cohort in the business of petty indignities.
- Is he like this with you as well? - Like what?
- Talking all funny and that. - I wouldn't have him any other way.
What's wrong with her tits?
It's for my exhibition.
- Is that art, is it? - Yeah.
I'm not sure I understand art.
Well, maybe you could come along.
Steven could explain it to you.
You know he writes poetry?
She doesn't understand that either.
You cheeky twat.
- I think I'll leave you two to... - No, you don't have to do...
Come on. What do you feel like eating?
I don't care, as long as it's poisonous.
My fucking drink, you cunt!
Fucking hell. What happened to you?
'I think I'm ready for the electric chair.'
Right. Come on, then.
Ready?
What do you think that means?
Whatever you want it to mean.
What does that mean?
What I just said.
Come and look at this.
I've found a picture of a cock.
Thank you. Thank you.
As you can see, these are extraordinary works.
Our students are the future of Manchester's thrilling artistic scene.
But, as every artist knows, it's hard to resist the pull of the capital,
and we're delighted to announce that Linder's exhibition will travel to London.
- Well done, Linder. - Thank you.
Our Tracey's been to London, says it's full of knobheads.
I need a drink.
Are we getting pissed?
Thank you.
I'm really very happy for you.
You deserve it.
You don't look it.
Will you be gone long?
As long as it takes.
Billy.
Steve. Sorry, man. I didn't mean to crash the party.
Your mam said you'd be here, so I...
Fuck me. I need to stop smoking.
Billy, why are you here?
What would you say if I told you we were joining a band and we'd got ourselves a gig?
I'd say, 'Billy, get off the drugs.'
Then call me Bob fucking Marley.
I know this band, the Nosebleeds, who suddenly find themselves
shy of a singer, a guitarist and some decent tunes.
So I said we'd do it.
That's brilliant.
It's a double celebration. I'll get us some more drinks.
You don't look too happy about it.
Why is everybody concerned with my happiness?
- Cheers. - Cheers.
Hey. What are we celebrating?
She's adorable.
In a bovine kind of way.
I've never been to a gallery before.
Did you see what they were wearing?
You'd have thought they'd make an effort.
Do you know, I just can't see the point of university, me.
I'd rather just have a job.
- You have a job. - What? That?
No. No, I'm only giving it another few months.
I want a career change.
You know, our Tracey's gonna get us a job in fashion.
Do you think I'd be good at that?
I do. Some of the girls tonight were dressed like blokes.
Did you see that?
Your girlfriend dresses well weird an' all.
- She's not my girlfriend. - Piss off.
You're like two peas in a fucking pod.
She's got a great rack, though.
Oh, God.
It's fucking cold, isn't it?
No.
So, when's this gig, then?
You know we're all gonna come to that, don't you?
Please don't.
- Look, is it much further? - No. It's just up here.
Well, good night, Christine.
You've gotta walk me to my front door otherwise you're not a gentleman.
So... do you wanna come in, then?
- I don't think so. - Come on.
Mr. Hard To Get.
Is he alright?
Oi, Stevo!
Right, here we go.
Are you happy?
I think so, yes.
Should I be?
You owned the room, Shakespeare.
You were the room.
What's this?
The big time.
Some London manager. Talked about tours and recording.
I can't fucking believe it, man. One fucking gig.
See you later, Stevo.
Right, come on, boys. Remember the date.
And smile.
You too, Steven.
I said you'd be back in on Monday.
Yes, but did you have to say I had diarrhoea?
I've run out of excuses.
So, tell me all about it.
I've never experienced anything like it.
And now I know how you must feel when you do your knitting.
You skiving off again?
I've got far more important things to consider.
- Like what? - Tell her about your gig.
- It went really well. - Great.
So I can take today off 'cause I don't like Thursdays?
It's not like I wanna spend my life stacking shelves.
I hate to break it to you, Jacqueline, but the way things are looking,
it looks like there might be one less worker bee in the Morrissey hive.
What's this?
Studio time, gigs, stardom. Who knows?
This is in London.
And?
And what's plan B if that doesn't work out?
- My alphabet only has one letter. - What, D for dickhead?
Just because the height of your ambition is aisle five
doesn't mean that I'm gonna slum it here for the rest of my life.
What are you talking about?
Once they discover my genius, it's inevitable I'll move.
- You've done one gig. - That's enough, you two.
I don't have to listen to this.
Clean-up on aisle five. Clean-up on aisle five.
Wait!
- Did you make one for us? - No.
Alright?
Here you are, mate.
It were top last week.
I were fucked by your third song, but still...
Is this a private meeting or can anybody join in?
Did you know Steve was in a band?
No, no, I didn't, no, and I don't care.
Get back to your desk and start working.
Alright.
I sometimes feel like the subject of a Lowry painting.
I've never wanted to paint anything.
But look at these walls.
Returning to the real world is like stepping into a cold shower...
where the dress code is smart.
Where the hell is he now?
And the people less so.
Lazy bastard.
And your ambition is to start each day
and still exist by the end of it.
At least Lowry had smog.
We've got nothing to choke on.
This what you call the records room, is it?
On the fucking roof?
I was actually...
I know exactly what you get up to up here.
Writing bollocks about what fucking idiots we are.
Well, I tell you one thing, Steven, what goes around comes around.
What are you writing now?
- It's none of your business. - I'll be the judge of that.
Fine. Fine.
You get back to your desk. I'll deal with this after lunch.
You make a note in your fucking book.
Morrison.
Right...
You know why you're here?
I'm not paying you to write in your notebook or be in a pop band.
I'm paying you to work.
But it's not just that, Steven.
Your attitude stinks.
You're never at your desk at nine, if you're here at all.
And when you are here, your mind is elsewhere.
I don't owe you a living, Steven.
But I am a fair man. You know that.
So I thought I would give you one more opportunity
to convince me that things are going to change.
You can't live two lives.
Work or music.
What's it gonna be?
The famous Steve Morrison.
- I'm not gonna miss you. - Liar.
So... did you jump or were you pushed?
Creative differences.
Just when I was gonna shoot you in the head.
I'm sorry to disappoint.
What time's your train?
We've got plenty of time.
Are you worried?
About what?
London belongs to me.
'As I wander thro' each charter'd street
Near where the charter'd Thames does flow...'
'And mark in every face I meet'
'Marks of weakness'
'Marks of woe'
- I can't remember the rest. - 'in every cry of every man...'
You see? What am I gonna do without you?
Die.
Lonely and depressed.
Give it a rest, will you? Some of us still have work to go to.
- Hello? - Hi, Billy.
- Steven. - It's... I dropped off a tape.
- I got it. - And what do you think?
It's really good, mate.
I was thinking that maybe these should be the ones that we demo for the manager.
- He called me this morning. - Oh, great. Did he...
Did he say when we're going?
Billy?
I'm sorry, Steve. They just want me to go.
But I don't understand.
They want a new guitarist for this band.
There's a tour lined up and... yeah.
I'm sorry, Steve. I don't know what to say.
I can't turn it down.
Steve, are you still there?
- I'm still here. - I can't turn it down, mate.
No.
Anyway, look, do you remember my mate, Johnny?
Well, he's looking to start something, so I mentioned you.
I can give you his number.
Have you got a pen?
I'll get one.
Mum said you'd forget.
- What? - Doctor's appointment.
You can't just lock yourself away.
Okay.
You've been in here for six weeks.
- Seven. - I'm being serious.
- Steven. - What?
Mum's worried.
- When is it? - 20 minutes.
I don't see how these are gonna help.
Tell me what the doctor said.
Did you explain how you were feeling?
Are you hungry? I'll make you some food.
So what's it like down there, then?
Well, I live in a shoebox,
and all anyone talks about is hummus.
When are you coming?
- Soon. - You'd clean up down here.
There's loads of people you could meet.
You should come down.
- I should, shouldn't I? - Yes.
- Check the train times. - I will.
If you need, I'll lend you the money.
So, anything new happening up there?
There's a new bag of cement in the cellar.
I was planning my visit...
You know Billy's playing Manchester next month?
He always asks about you.
And... I told him you were writing your obituary.
Anyway, he said he'd put you on the guest list.
Not really, no.
Are you alright, Shakespeare? You sound lost.
No, I can see where I'm going.
- Hiya, Betty. - Peter. Come in.
Right...
Is that enough? It's all I can afford right now.
That's plenty.Thanks.
How is he? Any change?
I'm running out of ideas.
Well, if it helps, there's a job going at the hospital.
I could put in a word.
The most used noun in the English language is 'time'.
And I'm running out of it.
You win, Christine.
You've won.
Some of us want to dream and keep on dreaming.
Think of us and protect us.
The lion and the lamb shall lie down together.
Down together we go.
Look at the state of you.
I'll take the job.
- What? - The hospital job. I...
I need the money. I want to see Linder, so...
Where in Ireland are you from?
Dublin, man.
Very nice.
Yeah, but I've been here a long time. A few years, you know.
Everything alright?
Is Linder still enjoying London?
You could probably get there and back ten times by now.
Steven.
Were you a friend?
Life, in its humdrum sense, is worth avoiding.
It's the factory for father and the kitchen for mother.
It's arguments at the dinner table, missing children on the news,
and, through it all, a sense that things are slowly falling apart.
Is it better to choose another record, flip the lid on the pills
and wait for something to happen?
Is it better to turn out the lights, climb under the covers
until sleep invites you to a world you've always wanted?
Is it better than the one that's in front of us?
I like what you've done with the place.
I really don't know how to carry on, Mum.
I remember when you first heard this.
We couldn't get you down off the table.
Do you remember why I bought you that?
And all the books and the typewriter?
It's just not me any more.
Then who are you?
Are you that boy who stood on the table and sang to me?
Or are you just like everyone else? Given up. With nothing to say...
I've tried, Mum. It's not like I haven't tried.
What else am I supposed to do?
The world, it's just not built for people like me.
Then create your own world, Steven.
You'll get there.
I know you will.
But only when you realise you have a choice.
Not everyone's so lucky.
You are the only version of yourself in existence.
There is no replica of you.
You just have to be who you are.
Isn't that worth fighting for?
- Yeah? - Yeah.
- Okay? - Okay.
You could have at least torn the wallpaper down.
Anything else?
That's £1.50, please.
The past is... everything I have failed to be.
It was the ease of doing nothing over the fear of doing something.
Do I carry those defeats and emerge with a flag of victory?
It could be the start of something.
Even though the world does not want your dance and your glitter.
Men were born to pray and save.
Romantic England's dead and gone.
It's with Jane Austen in the grave.
I'm afraid there's not much demand for pop stars in the Stretford area.
Can you even sing?
Now, Ringway Airport are looking for car park attendants.
Fine.
Meat packing in Crumpsall?
Bricklayers. People'll always need houses, Steven.
Job for life is that.
Do you ever wake up and think,
'I wonder if I could have been a poet'?
What?
Do you think that if you'd tried just a little bit harder
that you could have made it?
That maybe instead of all this,
you could have gone down in history?
Steven, it's me interviewing you, not the other way round.
Manchester's first Nobel laureate.
Right, look, son, you might think it's okay to quit your job,
but there are two million other blokes out there looking for work.
So I suggest that you start pulling your finger out and stop wasting my bloody time.
You can do it, sir.
I believe in you.
And if you ever do find a bricklayer floating in the Irwell,
it'll be me.
I'm heading into work. Do you want anything?
Are you sure that's enough?
Make sure you eat something today that isn't toast.
But I like toast.
You alright? I'm Johnny.
I got your address off Billy.
Look, you probably don't remember me, but...
I do.
Yeah, I play a bit and...
Can I come in?
You've read all these?
There's some top stuff in here.
See, no one makes stuff like this any more.
Do you know what I mean?
Would you like to play one?
Alright.
Would you care for some toast?
Yeah. Cheers.
So, one o'clock, then.
- One o'clock. - Shit. Almost forgot.
Billy said these are yours.
See you tomorrow.