Will the defendant please stand?
Kempton bunton, you are charged that on the 21st of march, 1961,
you stole from the national gallery the portrait of the Duke of Wellington
by the artist Francisco goya to the value of £140,000.
How do you plead? Guilty or not guilty?
Not guilty.
And that you created a public nuisance by depriving members of the public
of the opportunity to view the portrait.
Do you plead guilty or not guilty?
Same again, love. Not guilty.
Mr cussen.
Thank you, my lord.
At this rate, you'll be giving that Shakespeare
a run for his money.
Imagine if Jesus had been born a woman.
Well, what's it called?
The adventures of Susan Christ.
Not my cup of tea, then.
Oh, well, you never know.
Recorded delivery?
Aye. Good idea.
That will be two shillings, mr bunton.
Come on, mr Singh.
We know you're in there.
I know he's in.
- Harry? Come on. - All right.
We'll come back.
- I know he's in. - All right.
He's cooking.
Right, cup of tea and then we'll go and do...
Evening chronicle.
- How can I help you? - Is Barry Spence there, pet?
- Just putting you through. - Thank you.
Dorothy?
I'm in here.
Dorothy, would you be a sweetie and just clean the heads for me?
Oh, yes. Yes, of course.
Uh, will I finish the fireplace first?
It's entirely up to you, but I'm playing this afternoon. Busy, busy.
Oh, Dorothy, as I was passing fenwick's the other day,
I noticed that they had, um, a sign up.
"Storeman." just in case your husband...
Uh, I just mention it.
- Mr bunton. - Curtain twitched.
Dad!
Post office. In the street.
I know. Buy me five minutes.
- Mr bunton? - Cometh the hour, Jackie, lad.
- Mr bunton? - Can I help?
We're here to inspect your television licence.
Look at that.
- What? - Fox. Big fella.
Any house with a television is required to have a licence.
Our radar Van detected a line output transformer signal
from this address,
coming from a cathode ray tube this time last week.
- We haven't got one of them. - That's a telly.
Oh. Oh, we've got one of them.
And do you have a licence?
In what sense?
In the sense of having one
or not having one.
A Mars a day helps you work, rest and play.
Gentlemen, join me. Robin hood after the adverts.
- Can we see your licence, sir? - Don't need one.
We only watch itv, which is paid for by these.
This is a mistake. I can go to the post office in the morning.
This is no mistake. It is a political act.
Witness, I cannot receive the BBC.
To the left, itv.
I've taken the band-one coil from the turret tuner.
- Here we go again. - My wife always supports me in private.
It is thus physically impossible for this set to receive a televisual signal
from the British broadcasting corporation, and that negates the imperative on me
- to pay the licence fee. - I've only got 16 Bob here.
- Jackie, fetch the kitty from the larder. - Don't you move.
It's an unfair tax on ordinary people.
Especially the oldies that can't afford it.
Television, gentlemen, is the modern cure for loneliness.
- We're a movement... - I'm not!
Our aim is to persuade our government
that old people should have free televisual viewing.
Well, the law's the law, and no one's above it.
Especially a nobody like you.
Oi! You can't talk to me dad like that in his own house.
- Or what? - You all right, kempton?
- Don't know, Barry. Never think about it. - You back again, stirring it.
- W ho are you? - Evening chronicle.
- Well, by statute... - Free TV for the oap?
I like it.
I was pleased. Not a lot rhymes with TV.
- I don't want this in the papers. - He does. That's why I'm here.
Well, by statute, anyone owning a television needs a licence.
Uh-huh. But I have modified this set by removing the BBC coil.
So I owe the government nothing.
That is an unarguable proposition
and certainly sound in law.
Hold it.
- Thank you. - Now, then, bunton.
Sorry, dad.
Where to? Home?
Marian.
Sorry, love.
Porridge.
Thirteen days.
Broke the law.
Upset your mother.
Again.
- Why doesn't mam ever come? - Don't know, Jackie.
You'll have to ask her that yourself.
When england faced its Waterloo,
one man stood firm.
This man.
Arthur Wellesley, the Duke of Wellington.
And when last week, this historic portrait
was in danger of leaving the country forever,
we also stood firm,
raising the £140,000 required to secure it for us all.
Was it really worth it?
I mean, looking at it, it's not very big, is it?
Sir Philip?
Well, um,
it's an outstanding example of late-period goya.
It really is. Outstanding.
And at the national gallery in London,
the home secretary unveiled goya 's...
This is champion, love. Bit of mustard?
You had servants in prison, did you?
You know I don't like getting up.
- I'll get it, dad. - No, you won't.
The iron Duke, I think...
Jackie.
Embodies our own national character.
Courage, resolve...
Not the Duke of bloody Wellington.
Refusal to countenance defeat.
I sold one of me boats.
So you didn't go to night class?
Thought you'd be happy for us.
I'd be happier if you were getting yourself qualified.
What's the armada down to, then?
Just the one left.
At any price, home secretary?
Well, we're not in the business
of putting a price on the nation's heritage.
They don't have to.
It's the taxpayer, you and me, Jackie, that's paid for that painting.
Since when have you paid any tax?
"Welcome home, kempton."
You know what's going off here, Jackie?
Toffs, looking after their own.
Spending our hard-earned money
on a half-baked portrait by some Spanish drunk
of a Duke who was a bastard to his men
and who voted against universal suffrage.
- Against what? - The vote.
The Duke of Wellington didn't want you to have a say
in how this country was run when he was prime minister.
Think what they could have done with all that money.
Given thousands and thousands of free TV licences
to war widows and pensioners, that's what.
Are these speeches of yours going to put food on the table?
You can stop that, Dolly. I'm back on the taxis tomorrow.
Has yet been taken by the British government
on the question of the common market.
"One who hopes."
Translated from what, I couldn't say.
Esperanto, presumably.
I'm not paying for conversation.
I'll keep my trap shut, then.
In fact, he was a Polish eye doctor.
L. L. Zamenhof.
His dream was to bring humanity together
by means of a universal common language.
****ing hell.
- What you doing, kidder? - Putting a cabin on it.
Boat building, eh?
Swan hunter will be shitting themselves.
You gonna live on it? Get out the house?
I sell them on as working boats.
- What are you doing home? - Ah, keeping me head down.
Are you in trouble?
Not in newcastle.
Got a little job for youse.
I wanna keep me nose clean.
- I'll source the car. - Nah.
You just have to drive it and get rid of it.
- Nah! I said no! - Well, you did it before.
Yeah, and I regret it.
Well, think about it.
A business opportunity.
How's hostilities?
He's writing away, and mam's scrubbing the world clean.
Bloody Marian.
Aye. Bloody Marian.
She normally sleeps through.
It'll be fine. Don't worry. She knows you. She likes you.
Oh, Dorothy, would you mind?
Sorry.
I've always liked this dress.
Oh, it's taffeta. I hate it. It's so uncomfortable.
Darling, it's 7:30 for 8:00, not 8:30 for 10:00!
Gordon Bennett. Thank you, Dorothy.
So, what is it tonight?
Golf club gala.
- The only time they let the ladies in. - Don't you play there?
Oh, god, no.
It would be the end of civilisation.
So, is your, um... is your husband out?
I mean, back? I saw the paper.
- Do you want me to stop coming? - No.
No, no. It's...
It's fine, Dorothy.
We're very happy with you, really.
I don't want to cause your husband any embarrassment.
Oh, no. No, we couldn't possibly have that.
My husband the councillor.
It's a real conundrum, though, isn't it?
I mean, if you can't receive the BBC,
why should you pay the tax?
I'll see you later.
Any time this week.
It doesn't take five minutes to look like this.
- Let's just get going. - Where's my bag?
- On the ottoman. - -Have you got keys?
- We don't need keys. - I'm not driving.
Susan, I'm not going down.
You'd like this one, love.
- Get yourself in there. - Would you take it easy?
- Return of the prodigal son. - Oh!
Don't give him any money.
I haven't got any.
Where have you two been?
- The green tree. - Traitors.
- Are you still barred from there? - A pint in there isn't a pint.
Oh, you could start a fight in a ploughed field, you.
He accused me of nicking their toilet rolls.
- You were. - I was, aye, but he had no evidence.
- Habeas corpus. - You're an idiot.
- Leave him alone, mam. - Fish pie, Kenny? You look thin.
What are you fussing around him for?
For a change from fussing around you.
Babycham for the lady. Dad, yours.
- Thank you. - A bottle of brown.
Now, be sure and use the coasters. You're not in Leeds now.
Yeah, civilisation here.
- Put the news on, Dolly. - We haven't got a licence.
Whose side are you on?
My side. I'm not turning that goggle-box on.
A toast. To the buntons.
- Happy families. - Happy families.
Fans flock like swallows in the spring
to the national gallery...
Not that sodding painting again.
National treasure? It's the poor bloody foot soldiers
that won his battles for him we should be celebrating.
J“ kick down j“
J“ every door! I -quiet.
- J' that's what doors are there for j' - quiet! Quiet!
I hope you're proud of yourself.
They don't swallow what the establishment tells them. I'm proud of that.
- Am I making a bed up for you? - Aye, couple of nights, mam.
She'll miss you, your Dolly bird.
Who we talking about?
- Her that's married? Pammy? - She's separated, mam.
If she's not divorced, she's still a married woman.
She was only married two months.
Don't you go down that road, Jackie bunton.
I'm the devil incarnate, me.
We don't know anything about your life in Leeds.
- Plenty of cash, never in work. - I'm in construction.
It's seasonal.
You're always welcome here. Back room's yours.
I wouldn't be surprised to hear she's in the family way.
- Oh, **** it. I've had enough. - I'll not have language in this house.
- See you later, dad. It's been lovely. - No. I said you're welcome.
- I'm welcome. - Always welcome.
Yeah, I heard you, all right? I'm never welcome in this house.
I just don't want any swearing.
You wonder why I take months away...
I'll go and be United Nations.
All I ask is for you just not to swear.
The portrait of the first Duke of Wellington
set a record price for a goya.
It was knocked down to an American
after 90 seconds for £140,000.
J“ ...If you don't want money? I
j“ what do you want if you don't want gold? J“
I might have the body of a weak and feeble woman...
Elizabeth I.
But I've got the testicles of Henry viii.
You are three and tenpence short on yesterday, bunton.
Aye, an old fella. Skint.
Why's he taking taxis, then?
He's a war veteran. Can't walk.
I am running a taxi firm, not a charity.
- Take it out me wages. - I've had complaints.
One, you talk too much, and, two, it's utter bollocks.
You're sacked, with immediate effect.
- I haven't been paid. - Sue me, then.
But **** off first.
Oh, hello. Yes.
I'll just take the address, please. Thank you.
Thank you very much. Be there in a tick.
There is nothing more powerful
than when a community discovers what it cares about.
And when a man accepts our essential interdependence,
in that moment he, or she,
becomes a woman.
Or a man.
As the case may be.
How many have you got?
The petition's only one part of the campaign.
- Three? - Well, we've just set up.
Kempton bunton? That's not even a real name.
Rome wasn't built in a day, Jackie.
But, then again, I wasn't on that particularjob.
Oh, hello. Didn't know you were political, Jackie bunton.
Yeah, it's me dad. His latest campaign.
Me nan would love a telly.
Why don't you sign my petition, then, love?
Uh... I don't know about that.
The hat suits ya.
I'd like to sign, mr bunton.
Unless you have any objections.
Au contraire, mrs gowling. Au contraire,
thank you.
Now, where do I put my paw print?
Just there, please.
If Jackie goes to the bad, I'm holding you responsible.
That'll be the straw, I promise you.
You can do your petitions and write your plays in prison.
They'll do your cooking and your washing for you and all.
- But I've had it. - I've had it up to here.
Peace offering.
- Good dunkers, them ginger nuts. - What do you want?
A pact.
Two days in London. Give me two days.
Then I'll be back for good. Get a job. Keep me head down.
I didn't come down in the last shower, you know.
Promise. Two days.
To change anything, you have to go to parliament.
You're wasting your life.
How do you eat an elephant?
- Who eats elephants? - One bite at a time.
Stop this.
Please, kempton. Please, love, please.
I'm begging you. Stop all your agitation.
Two days, that's all.
If I hit a brick wall down there, that will be the end of it.
Two days, that's all I need.
Then I swear to god, it'll be the last of it.
The plays, the politics, the lot.
Two days.
One last chance.
Do you have an appointment?
- He'll want to see me. - I'm sorry?
I've sent him my trilogy of plays,
each one tackling a different aspect of social injustice.
- He's not here. - Not here?
He's gone to granada.
- Granada television? - No, granada in Spain.
I could wait.
Right.
There you go, sir.
I need to speak to the boss, love. It's urgent.
He's over there.
- Sir, I have a story. - Is that right?
- It's a campaign... - I don't do campaigns.
- It's about social injustice. - I don't do social injustice.
- Can I buy you... - I don't do lunch.
Another time.
Friends, members,
citizens of this great mother of parliament...
Members, representatives, reps...
Friends, reps...
I come here, not...
Friends,
fellow citizens,
elected representatives of this noble house,
lend me your ears.
- Let's just move along. - I come not to make a protest,
but to demand of this government...
It's all right.
Bugger.
The portrait was missing when the first shift of attendants
reported for duty here at 7:00 this morning.
When the gallery closed last night, the goya was still in its usual place.
The national gallery is appealing to anybody who was here yesterday
and who saw anything or anybody they think was suspicious
to get in touch with the police.
Will it be out of the country already, commissioner?
Well, looking at the degree of planning and expertise involved,
we're convinced that the goya has been stolen to order
by a well-funded, highly professional international criminal gang.
Any suspects so far?
It's not very good, is it?
What about the police?
No one's looking for the Duke of Wellington in benwell.
Christ!
Don't touch it!
Jesus Christ.
Christ is the man we need right now.
- How come? - Carpenter.
Someone who knows how to put a false back on that wardrobe.
- I can do that. - Get on with it, then.
- Next up: Communication. - Cut letters out the paper.
No, do that,
and you'd be telling them what paper you read, what glue you've got in the house,
whether you use right- or left-handed scissors.
That's three coordinates, and they've got you.
That's why this letter cannot be posted from newcastle.
"Query not that I have the goya.
The act is an attempt to pick the pockets of those who love art more than charity."
Bit of Robin hood. Like that.
- Mam. - Christ.
- How was aunt Betty? - Why are you wearing rubber gloves?
Varnish. Been on the boat.
- Hello, pet. - Oh, you're back.
Didn't bring down the government, then?
Ah, well, I exercised my Democratic right.
Now it's up to them. What matters is I'm back.
So, you'll be going to the labour exchange.
Tomorrow. First thing. Shall I put the kettle on?
If you think it'll go with your outfit.
So, you're gonna keep your name out of the papers?
Aye, well, there's no reason for me
to be of any interest to the press ever again.
Why are you wearing rubber gloves?
Uh, that blocked drain.
We don't have a blocked drain.
Next door's.
We don't talk to next door.
You've gotta build Bridges.
Paris, Vienna, then London...
- I'm off. - Where to?
Rainbow rooms.
Why in god's name would you want to go to a club
with music and drinking and girls...
- Take care. - When you could stop in
and watch telly with me and your mam?
Don't drink too much if you're on that bike.
I'll be careful. See you later, dad.
- And wear your helmet. - Bye.
Now, then.
Oh, no. What have I done?
Kempton bunton, I want you to swear to me
that you've given up all your nonsense.
I swear.
- I swear. - Promise.
Dolly, love, I've learnt my lesson.
No more secrets?
Nothing. Rien. Nada. I promise.
Meanwhile, the hunt for the missing goya portrait continues.
I feel I can profile the thief pretty well.
He's most likely highly physically tuned,
almost certainly a trained commando,
or ex-special forces.
- You all right? - Do you expect the criminals
- to eventually make contact? - Bit of biscuit.
We are expecting some communication from the thieves.
When it comes, we will respond.
You remember fat Stan, track marshal at the dogs?
What?
Well, his brother-in-law, gert, nice fella, Dutch,
well, he's foreman at this plastics injection moulding plant,
and he said to fat Stan that there's a job going.
But it's 10:00 at night.
- He's on nights. - Who? Gert or Stan?
Stan. I mean gert.
He's night-shift foreman. At night.
I wouldn't expect I'll be long, but don't wait up.
And as the noose tightens...
- Ta-ra! - Around the gang responsible,
the national gallery announce a £5,000 reward...
For information.
- How far are you going? - Morecambe bay.
Morecambe bay will be just champion.
Would you like a wine gum?
What are you doing?
Have you read this one?
- What's it called? - The girl on the bicycle.
No. And I don't think you should either.
- So you have read it? - He's told me what it's about.
Making money out of our grief.
- It's just writing. - Well, it's wrong.
Well, what else can he do? You'll never talk about it.
What's there to talk about? It's done, isn't it?
She's dead.
I'm back!
Where'd you find that?
In the wardrobe in the back room.
What were you doing in there?
I live here.
They've got that West Side story on at the abc, Percy street.
Do you fancy it tomorrow?
We can't afford to waste money going to the pictures.
It's Romeo and Juliet, but with singing and dancing,
and it's set in New York, not stratford-upon-avon.
- How far have you got? - Farenough.
It's not Marian.
There's a girl, dies in a bicycle crash.
That girl's knocked off her bike by a bus in town.
Our Marian came off her bike going downhill in the country.
- Who's read this? - Nobody, I shouldn't think.
I've only sent one copy out.
Who to?
Telly.
So the world and his wife's gonna know.
- You've never let me talk about it. - Grief's private.
I bought her that bike. If I'd got her anything else, she'd still be alive.
Well, she isn't.
Carry on.
Pedal. That's it! Go on!
Keep going! Keep going!
Well done!
He's not a writer.
He has pretensions, but he can't write.
- Where was it posted? - Morecambe.
He's not an educated man.
Could he be Italian?
No. British. Northern.
This comma here tells us a lot.
How do you mean?
It's gratuitous. It evidences poor education.
- He's an autodidact. - A car mechanic?
He's self-taught, over a lifetime.
I'd put him somewhere in his late 503.
So, uh, what's his mental state, then?
"The act is an attempt to pick the pockets of those who love art more than charity."
He's a fantasist who believes he's an idealist.
A kind of Don quixote.
Oh, the, uh... the windmill fella.
He'll be active in his community, known for his local campaigns.
Parking, litter, pub hours, that sort of thing.
Thank you. That's very helpful.
My pleasure.
- Could someone sign me out? - I wouldn't dare.
You'd be telling everybody what I had for breakfast.
- Nice arse. - You're a married man, reg.
I can look at the menu as long as I eat at home.
So has this fella got the painting, then?
Time-wasting bastard. He's just after the reward.
Yeah.
The Italians still favourite, then?
That's where the clever money is.
- My first day. - Might be your last.
Watch these ones, man.
They're fast. Get three like bricks, yeah?
In the future, they'll have robots doing this.
Yeah, I can't wait.
The likes of me and you will spend our day developing our minds
with literature and orchestra! Concerts.
Look, please, just keep up.
Come on, mind your bloomers.
- It's his first day, mr Walker. - Ah, well, you can watch it and all.
Still getting used to your lot touching our white loaves.
- Eh? - Yes, sir.
Come on.
Buggen
'King hell. Nothing.
Don't you want them papers, mister?
No, you have them, bonny lad.
Good firelighters, but you won't find any of them
speaking truth to power.
What you playing, lads? Tip and run?
- Can I have a bowl? - No, you're all right, pops.
Christ.
You are kempton bunton and I claim me £5,000 reward.
Daft bugger. I nearly shit myself.
What did you open it up for?
No reaction to my first communication, so I took the ticket off the back,
proof positive that I've got it.
This to the workingman's paper, the daily mirror.
Mam.
Quick, quick. Sort this lot out.
What?
J“ and round about 11:00 my idea of heaven is a nice cup of tea I
J' I like a nice cup of tea... j“
oh, stop it, you daft brush.
Anyhow, it's half-3:00.
You were a beautiful dancer. Graceful, fluid.
- I wasn't that good. - You were that good.
Ginger Rogers of whitley bay.
I always said we should have entered them competitions.
- We'd never have won. - Swept the board.
Hmm.
You're looking at hollisons' new star baker.
Hollisons? I thought it was plastics.
No. I'm lord bunton of the baps. Number two oven man.
- Much better. You can't eat plastic. - So will it be regular?
Aye. I've taken to it like a swan to water.
And a free loaf every day.
- Tomorrow, a pork pie. - Pork pie?
- Slightly damaged. - You're slightly damaged.
Today, 14-ounce Danish.
Slightly damaged?
Light and airy, for ladies who are watching their figure.
- Yeah, I'm not, though, am I? - You're better off wobbling than rattling.
Jackie bunton, is this your idea of a Saturday night out?
Just wait, would you? Come on, follow me.
Jackie...
- What are you doing? - Madam, care to view?
Gosh.
What do you think?
Yours, are they?
One day, aye.
That's what I wanna do.
Build boats like this.
On the tyne?
Nah.
California, New Zealand, Australia.
You just wanna get away.
Mam wants me to wear a shirt and tie, and dad wants me to punch the pope.
What's the pope done to upset your dad?
The pope, prime minister...
Dolly, love,
it's bad enough me having to get up at the crack of a sparrow's fart, but you...
Don't mind.
A full English breakfast served by an Irish Rose.
Eat up. You're late.
Oh, that's the shipping ticket that was attached to the back of the goya.
And he sent it to...
The daily mirror, home secretary.
So an arrest is imminent?
Uh, not as such.
But we know where this note was posted?
- Oh, central Birmingham. - The Italians?
We're re-evaluating that aspect of the enquiry, sir.
But we can pinpoint precisely the whereabouts of this person?
Well, sir, we're pretty sure he resides between morecambe and Birmingham
and has travelled in that area at some time for work.
So he could be one of about 23 million people?
If he's still in the area, yes, sir.
"The Duke is safe,"
his temperature cared for, his future uncertain.
We ask that some nonconformist type of person
with the sportitude of a Billy butlin
"and the fearless fortitude of a Montgomery..."
Sportitude, fortitude. The man's a bloody poet.
Perhaps we can lock w. H. Auden up at last.
What's he actually asking for?
£140,000, home secretary.
Good grief. For what?
Charity. As yet unspecified.
Clearly a lunatic.
Well, we will, of course, follow any credible...
- Be quiet, MacPherson. - Sir.
Gentlemen, I'm fully prepared for martyrdom,
but I would rather like it delayed.
And you chaps, I believe, need to keep your jobs.
So we'll meet again in 48 hours
when you will tell me of the very significant progress you have made
in solving this extremely serious crime.
Yes, home secretary.
I'm back.
Where have you been?
Large white sliced. Slightly damaged.
This came for you.
The BBC. The play.
The one that's not about the accident.
They'll be wanting me to go down to London
to supervise the production.
"Thank you for giving the drama department"
the opportunity of reading your intriguing play.
Unfortunately, it is difficult to find an audience
"for plays about grief."
Whoever they get to read plays can't be writers,
that's all I can say.
Well, whoever they are,
well, maybe it's best they've said no.
What's for tea?
- Sausage and mash. - Grand.
Prial of kings.
Akqua.
What a steaming pile of shite.
- Prial of aces. - What? No.
There he is.
I might have known. Mr akram. You still on paki time, are you?
- No, sir. - You've had your ten minutes.
- Sorry, sir. - Let him finish the game.
You what?
Me and javid broke at the same time.
Kempton, please, it don't matter.
It does matter. We get a 15-minute break and we've only had nine minutes of it.
You don't understand. It's different for me...
Are you accusing me of racialist discrimination?
No, no, no, no, no.
Hey, hey. I like pakis, me.
I mean, if it wasn't for your lot,
well, I wouldn't be able to get a pint of milk on a Christmas morning, eh?
I going back up now, sir.
Sit down, bunton.
You can finish your game.
"I will not let anyone walk through my mind
with their dirty feet."
Mahatma Gandhi.
Well, that is brilliant, that is.
I'll tell you what, bunton.
Get your card, clock off and **** off.
You can have as long a break as you want then.
Can I have one of them pork pies, please, pet?
Yeah, one pork pie. Anything else?
No, thank you.
Uh, can you just damage it a bit, please?
Damage it?
Just chip a bit of pastry off the side.
- Uh, I can. - Thank you.
Rag and bone!
Just a pub. A stupid, petty crime.
Where were you?
So what's your answer to that, then?
What you doing here?
Stopping over for a couple of nights, dad.
- This is Pammy. - Hiya, mr bunton.
- What do you want? - Talking to your lad.
- In a bedroom? - Well, when we knocked on the front door,
Pamela here didn't seem to think your Kenny was at home.
But would you believe it, we found him up here.
- Shall we all go downstairs? - We're all right.
Kenny should have given evidence yesterday at Leeds crown court.
But he did a runner.
- What you done, Kenneth? - Me? Nothing.
They want me to grass up a pal of mine.
You need a witness summons, then.
Has everyone in this family got a law degree?
I'm not legally qualified as such. I'm more a talented amateur.
One witness summons. Leeds crown court.
Thursday.
Thank you.
We'll see ourselves out.
Ta-ra, boys.
Ta-ra.
You can't stay in this room. I write in here.
Well, mam said it would be all right.
- Where is she? - Shops. I give her some money.
Not enough dinner now we're here.
Dinner's what they have down south. Up here, it's tea.
I'm against hanging on principle, unless it's for something really serious.
That doesn't even make sense.
- Are you saying I'm thick? - You know you're thick.
Kenny's mate stole a car, Dolly.
He won't be hung for that.
- "Hanged." - Huh?
It's "hanged."
I love your toad-in-the-hole, mam.
Thank you, Jackie.
So, Pamela, what is your current domestic situation?
Give it a rest, mam.
I work for mrs gowling.
That's the wife of councillor gowling. You may have heard of him.
And what's it got to do with him?
It's the difference between right and wrong.
Dad.
I agree with your mother.
It would be wrong for you two to be living in sin under our roof.
What's happened to you? You'll be voting Tory next.
Play for today's on in five minutes.
We can't get BBC.
Why not?
Dad took the band-one coil out.
If you can't get the BBC, you don't have to have a licence.
But you've got one sellotaped to the side of your television.
- No, we haven't. - That's mine.
What did you do that for?
To be normal.
Just fit the gizmo back in, then.
Dad's lost the coil.
So you pay for a television licence and you still can't receive BBC?
Oh, we don't like play for today.
It's just an excuse for a lot of bad behaviour.
Have you set your alarm, love?
What for?
Aren't you 6:00 to 2:00 tomorrow?
Aye, aye, you're right.
Belt and braces.
Sandwich loaf tomorrow, if you can manage.
No problem.
No, I'm not! Oh, will you piss off!
Language!
She's got a nerve.
Count your blessings they're only arguing.
It must have been a great source of anxiety to the national gallery staff.
Have you, in fact, ever had a painting stolen before?
Never, never.
Ta.
- About the thieves themselves? - Well, we don't think
that they were professional criminals in the strict sense...
- Doll? - What?
Misguided people...
What?
They spoke of, uh, charity in their note.
Nothing.
The best form of charity they could do would be to return the picture...
Shh.
I need a piss.
And I thought you were Cary Grant.
- You beauty. - Dad!
Three horse accumulator! Twenty quid!
The mirror. They're making you an offer.
I give them the painting, they put on an exhibition,
charge the public to see the Duke
and give me the proceeds. Bingo!
How much will an exhibition raise?
30,000... 50,000. Who knows?
The painting's not been out the news, has it?
I'll be able to pay for god knows how many TV licences.
You're not really gonna use it all on telly licences?
- Why not? - Just saying.
Who couldn't make use of a couple of grand?
- You think Robin hood took a rake-off? - Aye.
Jackie. Robin hood?
What if they're in it with the coppers?
You give them the painting,
they don't cough up and they shop you.
The mirror?
This is the workers' paper, Jackie lad.
How are you gonna get them the painting?
Well, I'll worry about that tomorrow. Tonight, celebration.
Fish supper, family outing.
No, but, dad, Irene's coming round.
The more the merrier. Bring her along.
80, mrs bunton,
how did you and mr bunton meet?
In his mother's pub in tynemouth.
He wiped me table four times.
It worked. You came back.
When she saw he was sweet on me, his mother said,
"some of his faults are good faults."
Why can't we go to the seaside?
How far's tynemouth?
Ah, you wouldn't wanna be dragged by your balls from here to tynemouth.
Kenneth, language.
Irene's new to the family, and she hasn't been married.
No, I'm still looking for me prince charming.
Good luck finding him in benwell.
- Benwell village. - Oh, you're so posh, mam.
Here, we'll carry you.
No, don't! Oh, my god!
- Carriage for the queen! - Stop it.
You're daft in the head.
Make way for the queen! Here she is.
Go on, queen of benwell village! Come on, wave to the public.
J“ I have loved you more each day j“
j“ walking back to happiness, woopah... j“
Four pie and chips, two COD and chips, mushy peas, three,
and two pots of tea, please.
- Four pie and chips... - Hello, pet.
Two COD and chips, three mushy peas
- and two pots of tea. - I'm going for a piss.
On second thoughts, I'd prefer a lemonade.
- And a lemonade, please, pet. - And a lemonade!
- Anything else? - What you gonna do with it?
- What? - The painting.
- What painting? - Oh, I don't know.
The painting of the Duke of Wellington by Francisco José de goya.
What are you suggesting?
I'm suggesting that if you were to move the painting
somewhere neutral, safe, out the house,
I could tell the authorities where it is and we could split the 5,000 reward.
- Or? - Or you can hang on to it,
and one day some very public-minded citizen
tells the police everything and gets all the money.
But we wouldn't want that to happen, would we?
Because I like you, and you would have to go to prison.
- Two and a half thousand? - Each.
I can't do what I need to do
- with two and a half grand. - What do you wanna do?
- Help people. - Oh, help yourself, more like.
- Are you short of money? - Who isn't?
[Banendefl four specials, four COD and chips,
two mushy peas...
She knows about it.
What?
The Duke.
- Who? Mam? - Pammy.
She's after the reward money. She wants to split it with me.
- But what about the mirror offer? - I know. I know.
But if she goes to the police now, we're done for.
If I take it back tonight, maybe they'll go easy on me.
- Well, what'll you tell mam? - What can I tell her?
Here, I'm gonna slip back. Keep them entertained.
What am I supposed to do? You can't...
I don't know. Take them to the green tree.
kempton?
I can explain.
Oh, my good god.
It was you?
You stole the painting?
It's not theft for money.
It's, you know, for the campaign.
You're a madman.
I'm living with a madman.
But you swore to me. You promised.
- If you've involved our Jackie... - Jackie's had nothing to do with it.
Well, why's he wearing rubber gloves half the time?
- He helped me build the panel. - So he is involved?
He hasn't touched the painting, not without rubber gloves on.
- I'm shaking. - It's the shock.
Shock, yes. I'm shocked there's a stolen masterpiece in me wardrobe.
I'm taking it back.
Anything else I need to know?
- I lost me job at the bakery. - Oh, there's a surprise.
I stood up against racial bigotry.
- Well done. - Someone had to say something.
Yes, and he's called Martin Luther-bloody-king,
not kempton bunton.
You swore you'd get a job. We had an agreement.
You lied.
You lied. You lied when you said all this would stop.
You don't care, do you? No, no, no, it's just...
Just me, me, me, isn't it? No one else exists.
Pammy knows I've got it.
Oh, heavens.
There's a reward. 5,000. She's after the money.
So then if...
- She'll go to the police. - It's possible, but...
- And they'll come here. - Only if it's...
In the street!
- They'll drag you out in handcuffs! - Listen. Listen, calm down.
I can't calm down!
I'm at top pitch!
I'm taking the painting back to London tonight quietly.
That would be the best thing for us. For all of us.
I might have to do a bit of time...
It's a £140,000 painting. You'll do life!
No, love, it's not like that.
I was gonna use it for, you know, the greater good of mankind.
Mankind! What about your own kind?
You've broken this family. You're disgusting.
Get out, you bastard. Just go... get out!
Dad! Dad, I'm coming with you.
No, you're not. This is my thing.
- No, but, dad... - Nothing to do with you.
Now, stay and look after your mother.
Excuse me, sir.
Are you taking one of our paintings?
No, son. I'm bringing one back.
Ueponefl meanwhile, in an unexpected development,
goya's portrait of the Duke of Wellington has been returned, by hand,
to where it was stolen
from London's national gallery.
At a press conference, an official described
how a member of the public had simply walked in off the streets
with the painting under his arm, wrapped up in a bit of old brown paper.
And when our reporter tried it, nobody batted an eyelid.
Devlin looked down from his bench and said,
"mr hutchinson, are you trying to show this court contempt?"
I said, "my lord, no, I'm actually trying to hide it."
Well, first rule of advocacy: Don't be funnier than the judge.
Yes.
Mr bunton, I'm your barrister, Jeremy hutchinson.
Oh, that's a shame.
I thought you were going to offer me a gin and tonic.
Well, I'm out tonight.
My wife is in the cherry orchard.
Playing ranevskaya? 4ndeed.
Like life, I can never decide if the cherry orchard
is a tragedy or a farce.
You know the play?
It's one of me favourites. I lost a child meself.
I'm sorry.
I'm a playwright.
As a matter of fact, I prefer Chekhov to Shakespeare.
For me, the bard is overfond of his kings.
Eric crowther. Junior counsel.
Mr hutchinson's wife is the actress dame Peggy ashcroft.
- Yes. - Oh. You're a lucky man.
Well...
Court number one, eh?
- Mmm. - The old Bailey.
The crucible of British criminal justice.
- Dr crippen. - Derek Bentley. Ruth Ellis.
Well, they were all hung... I mean, hanged.
Well, they didn't have mr hutchinson defending them.
- Who's prosecuting? - Neddie cussen.
- Score's seven to two. - To you?
To him. Yes, born prosecutor, neddie.
Defendant's always guilty until proven innocent.
Well, can you get me off?
Mr bunton...
You returned the goya by hand and confessed to the theft.
You gave the police a detailed explanation of how you stole it
and you've explained your motive.
Can I get you off?
Almost certainly not.
Meanwhile,
kempton bunton, the newcastle man accused of stealing
goya's portrait of the Duke of Wellington, arrived at the old Bailey this morning
for the first day of his trial.
And it was quite an entrance.
Ueponefl did you steal the goya, mr bunton?
No, I borrowed it.
- Why? - For the greater good.
We can still get there.
He's made his bed. He can lie in it.
The rest of the day was taken up
with empanelling the 12 citizens,
12 good men and women
who will tomorrow begin to hear what promises to be
one of the most eagerly awaited criminal trials
since the war.
Another triumph for the Duke of Wellington.
And as queues begin to gather for access to the public gallery,
there is no doubt that even by the old Bailey's standards,
this one looks like being a very hot ticket.
Are you kempton bunton?
But not named after kempton racetrack,
as some would have it.
Even though it is probable that I was conceived there.
It's a yes-or-no answer.
Yes, my lord.
Me mother named me after kempton Cannon,
the jockey who rode st amant, the winner of that year's derby.
- Do you want me to explain bunton? - I didn't want you to explain kempton.
Charges.
Kempton bunton, you are charged
that on the 21st of march, 1961,
you stole a picture frame to the value of £80,
property of the national gallery.
How do you plead, guilty or not guilty?
Not guilty.
In the second count, you are charged that on the same day,
you stole from the national gallery the portrait of the Duke of Wellington
by the artist Francisco goya
to the value of£140,000.
How do you plead? Guilty or not guilty?
- Not guilty. - Yes!
For those unfamiliar with court proceedings,
that was the plea, not the verdict.
Kempton bunton, you are further charged that following the theft of the portrait,
you made demands with menaces for its return.
Do you plead guilty or not guilty?
Not guilty.
And that you created a public nuisance
by depriving members of the public of the opportunity to view the portrait.
Do you plead guilty or not guilty?
Same again, love. Not guilty.
Mr cussen.
Thank you, my lord.
And at 5:00 am, when you returned from your rest break,
what did you see?
The painting was gone, sir. Clearly stolen.
Thank you.
Uh, mr edbury, if you could remain there,
my learned friend will have some questions for you.
Mr hutchinson.
No questions, my lord.
"The conception, design and execution of this act
was solely, singularly and entirely my own."
- And that statement is signed? - Kempton bunton.
Thank you, detective inspector.
If you would stay there, mr hutchinson will have some questions for you.
Mr hutchinson.
The defence has no questions for this witness.
At this rate, we'll be finished by tea.
And, dr unsworth,
what is your professional opinion of the hand?
The childlike scrawl across all the ransom notes is,
when compared to his normal script,
unequivocally the feebly disguised hand of the accused, mr bunton.
I'm grateful, dr unsworth. If you would remain on stand.
Any cross examination, mr hutchinson,
or are you trying to give it up?
The defence has no questions for this witness.
- What are you doing? - The dirt in this house.
Stop it.
Someone's gotta keep this place clean.
Lord knows your father will drag us into the gutter.
That's not true.
And it's not dad's fault Marian died.
He bought her that bike, so as far as he's concerned, he killed her.
- Do you think I don't know that? - Well, tell him, then. Talk about it.
Why do you think he does his plays and his leaflets and petitions?
- Defend him all you like. - I stole the painting.
Do you hear me? I stole the goya.
What?
No. No, you didn't take that painting.
- No, you did not. - Aye. It was me, not dad.
Please, no, no, just please tell me you're talking nonsense, Jackie bunton.
- Oh, my god, I'm shaking. - Mam.
- I'm shaking. Look at me. I'm shaking. - I was just...
Stop it. You're just making yourself shake.
- No. - Sit down.
Oh!
What...
Well,
when did you go to London?
It was that week I took off work.
But you... you said you went to Leeds.
You lied.
I was sick of you skivvying for lady muck.
Sick of them all laughing at dad.
I thought the painting might be like, well, it might change everything.
So you're a liar and a thief.
I just thought if he had something them bloody toffs wanted,
they'd have to listen to, you know, his TV crusade.
Crusade? Jesus Christ, is he now?
But how?
I mean, how did you take it?
I cased the gallery.
The goya was just sat there on an easel, not even a guard standing by it.
All I had to do was find somewhere I could break in.
I went to the toilet.
And I opened the toilet window and leaned out.
There was a courtyard below with all builders' stuff and ladders.
Excuse me, mate.
I went up to the security fella and asked him how you get a job.
Well, you could try the office.
Cleaners' work, early mornings. 4:30.
Get night rates, though. Lucky buggers.
I was born lucky.
And then I figured,
if the cleaners were in at half-4:00, they'd have to turn the alarms off.
So I went back early morning.
Put a ladder up just below the toilet window,
climbed up and...
I could hear one of them automatic floor polishers.
So I waited until he'd passed and then I...
I just walked across the floor.
Don't suppose you've ever been to newcastle?
What did your father say when you told him?
****ing hell!
- What do you think? - I think... ****ing hell!
140 grand.
If you could sell it, which you can't.
I know. I'm not daft.
But for pictures, the insurance will pay out 10% for safe returns.
- Have you got a screw loose? - Are you angry with us?
Angry? No, I'm furious, you stupid *****!
You've nicked the best-known painting on the planet.
'Kinnell!
Why can't we use it to get them free telly licences?
Blackmail the bastards.
Hold the bugger to ransom to better the lot of the common man?
One problem.
What's that?
Two words. Mrs Dorothy bunton.
We'll have to hide it from her.
You can't hide anything from a woman in her own house.
No, if she finds it, I stole it.
- I'm not having you take the blame. - I stole it.
On the telly, it was in a frame.
Shit. I took it off.
I must have left it under the bed in me digs. Sorry.
You'd lose your balls if they weren't in a bag.
It's not very good, is it?
"I do solemnly, sincerely and truly declare and affirm"
that the evidence I shall give shall be the truth, the whole truth...
"And nothing but the truth."
Excuse me. Thank you.
How old are you, mr bunton?
I don't know. I feel about 23.
You don't know your date of birth?
I never had a birth certificate.
1900, I think.
Do you know where you were born?
The back bedroom.
Of your mother's house in newcastle?
Byker.
If newcastle was a dog, you lifted its tail,
that hole there, that's byker.
Your father fought in the first world war at ypres.
Wipers. He weren't an officer.
He came back in a wheelchair?
Aye. Tank ran over his legs.
How did he feel about the Germans after that?
Never a bad word. The Germans didn't have tanks.
You helped him to run his business.
Aye. He was a street bookie, and I did his running for him.
It was illegal, but you could bribe the beat Bobby with 12 shillings.
I was as guilty as anybody...
And who hasn't been guilty of a youthful indiscretion,
ladies and gentlemen of the jury?
The past, as they say, is another country.
Your father died, and you lived with your mother who ran pubs.
Aye. It were a rough game,
but she had a left hook like Henry Cooper's.
Luckily she didn't cut quite as easy.
In the second world war,
you were refused service on medical grounds.
I done me bit. I drove lorries.
You married young?
- I had to marry. - "Had to marry"?
It was love. The decision was made for me.
Did you intend to steal this painting
in the sense of permanently depriving the gallery of it?
Never.
Did you ever demand money with menaces at any time from anyone?
No, sir.
In 1960, did you communicate with the post office
about your television licence?
Aye, I told them I had no intention of paying it
because I couldn't receive BBC.
You went to prison for not paying it.
I did.
On your release, you continued a campaign for free television
for pensioners and war veterans, is that correct?
I could afford a licence myself. It was about the principle of the thing.
All me life I've looked out for other people and got into trouble for it.
When did that begin, looking out for others?
I were about 14,
summer holidays.
I'd just finished reading Joseph Conrad's heart of darkness,
and I felt a need to explore sunderland.
But I got distracted and found myself on south shields beach.
I chucked myself in the sea to cool down.
A rip tide dragged me out.
I was on me own, exhausted, about a mile out,
and I knew there was no way I'd get back in.
But I had faith.
Not in god, but in people.
I knew some nosy bugger would see a pile of clothes on the beach
and put two and two together.
So I trusted in that, and waited.
Conserved me energy by floating, not swimming.
Looked at the sky... Smile on me face.
You could call it trust.
An hour later, the lifeboat pulled up alongside
and hauled me in.
The skipper was a milkman from Blyth, by all accounts, a bit of a bastard.
Excuse my French.
But, you know, as a milkman, I mean, but there's good and bad in all of us.
He saved my life that day.
Could have been anyone, but I knew someone would.
I'm not me without you. Do you get me?
- We all need each other? - No, you are me.
It's you that makes me me, and it's me that makes you you.
Humanity is a collective project.
Look, on me own, I'm a single brick.
A bit useless.
What good's a brick on its tod?
But you put a load of bricks together, you get a building.
You build a building, you create a shadow.
Already you've changed the world.
Your philosophy, I think it earns the appellation.
How did you apply this thinking to your own struggle?
You can't help the dead, but you can be inspired by them.
Some of them kids that this country sent out to France and Belgium
in 1914 came back.
They're over 65 now,
pensioners with not two pennies to rub together.
And isolation,
or not being connected, to use the modern lingo,
is no kind of life.
So what you grandly call my philosophy,
the "I'm you and you're me" thing,
tells me that every time someone gets cut off from the rest of us,
this nation, this country, becomes a foot shorter.
Mr bunton, I suspect the jury are asking themselves
how any of this applies to the theft of the goya.
- Well, I saw on the news... - The itv news?
Very good.
I seen that the government was paying out £140,000 for this painting.
That, for me, became about numbers.
If you put all that money into a bank account earning 10% interest,
you could pay for 3,500 TV licences a year
and reconnect with all them people.
No further questions, my lord.
You saw the painting on the itv news, and realising it was worth £140,000,
you decide to come down to London to steal it for personal gain, didn't you?
I thought I'd kidnap it for a while, aye.
Where did you stay whilst you planned the heist?
I took digs near a bucket shop.
What's a bucket shop?
A shop that sells buckets.
Was that deliberate?
- No, but it came in useful. - In what way?
Well, this isn't my city, is it? I don't know my way around.
So I'd get to Camden and ask a local, "do you know where I can buy a bucket?"
And that way you would get directions?
Everyone knows where you can buy a bucket.
Do you know the address of the shop?
Why? Do you need a bucket?
We... no, we need... we...
Excuse me. We need the address
because you said that you removed the frame
and hid it under the bed in your lodgings.
So is the bucket shop still there?
I've no idea. I've not been back. I'm not short of buckets meself.
Mr bunton, you are on trial.
This is not an audition for a music hall.
Sorry, my lord.
What am I looking at? Ten years?
I'll make my closing speech, and then the judge will give his summing-up,
which, I warn you, may sound a bit like the second speech for the prosecution.
All the benches up there have this Latin phrase on them.
"Domine dirige nos."
"Lord, direct us."
God help us, more like.
Well, I'll give you two some time.
Please.
- Well, you're all over the papers. - Am I?
You could have told me.
We could have dealt with it together.
Could we?
I read the rest of your play.
I'm sorry you felt you were to blame. You're not.
I went to see her.
- Nice spot, isn't it? - Uh-huh. Lovely.
- Cleaned it up a bit. - I like the wildness.
- She died in the country. - Any excuse to do nothing.
How long will you get?
I don't know.
Ten years.
You didn't take the painting.
Would you rather Jackie was in the dock?
I'm sorry, Dolly.
It's a mess.
It's a mess, all right.
As night follows day, kempton bunton stole the goya.
So say the prosecution.
Now...
That puzzled me,
because nothing is a crime in this country
unless it is expressly forbidden bylaw.
If your neighbour borrows your lawnmower and doesn't return it for months,
it is frustrating, it is annoying,
but it is not theft.
Because he had no intention of permanently depriving you of it.
Kempton bunton is your neighbour.
He is not a thief.
He borrowed your goya to...
Try and do a bit of good in this world,
in a world where...
I am you...
And you are me,
to try and benefit
some of the most vulnerable people in society.
He returned it, delivered it in person, the goya.
Late, yes, yes...
Yes.
Who amongst us hasn't been late returning a lawnmower?
When all is said and done...
He's a pretty good neighbour, really.
Isn't he?
Thank you.
And in response to mr bunton's confession
that he took the goya,
you may consider that as a result of his defence,
every gallery in the country will be powerless to prevent anyone
from borrowing a rubens for the weekend,
to hang in the hallway to impress the chair of the rotary club.
Can this country really allow such behaviour
to be placed outside our criminal law?
Now, that is a question I urge you to focus on now,
as you retire to consider your verdicts.
This is a good sandwich.
It is.
For cheese.
Will the foreman please stand?
And the defendant.
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,
have you reached verdicts upon which all 12 of you are agreed?
We have.
On the charge of the theft of a picture frame
to the value of £80, property of the national gallery,
do you find the defendant guilty or not guilty?
Guilty.
Establishment fix-up! Establishment fix-up!
There will be silence!
Or I shall order the public gallery cleared.
On the charge of the theft of the goya portrait
of the Duke of Wellington,
do you find the defendant guilty or not guilty?
Not guilty.
On the charge of demanding money with menaces
for the return of the portrait,
do you find the defendant guilty or not guilty?
Not guilty.
Silence!
Silence in court.
On the charge of creating a public nuisance
by depriving members of the public of the opportunity to view the portrait,
do you find the defendant guilty...
Not guilty.
It's a hat-trick!
Whoo!
Silence! Silence in court.
I will have silence.
Silence in court!
remove that woman.
I'm not going anywhere.
thank you.
Give us one of those bags.
- You're here. - Course I'm here.
Where else do you think I'd be?
I haven't been wasting me time. I've written a couple of plays.
Hmm.
Shakespeare must be shivering in his boots.
I expect so. And Chekhov.
Who's Chekhov?
Do you remember that play we went to see about the three sisters?
There she is.
- Welcome home, dad. - Welcome home, dad.
I'll put the kettle on.
Is one of those for me?
Wet your whistle.
- Cheers. - Cheers.
- I needed that. - I bet you did.
Best I've ever tasted.
The director of public prosecutions and I
have considered the evidence in the case,
and your confession.
It goes without saying, it is an offence of the utmost gravity.
However, in order to prosecute,
we would be compelled to call...
The original defendant.
It puts us in a delicate position,
given the public spectacle your father seems to create.
So, it has been decided that...
Prosecuting you may not be in the public interest.
What, you mean kempton would make you look stupid again?
Sorry. I didn't mean...
Of course, if a single word of this were ever to go beyond these walls,
we could always change our minds.
- Clear? - Clear.
- Kene? - I will.
- Will you marry me? - I just said I will.
A medium dry Martini, lemon peel, shaken, not stirred.
- Vodka? - Of course.
It's that bloody picture again.
He should put that into a wardrobe.
He'd have to get Jackie to fix it for him.
Well, dr no, you haven't done badly, considering.
A handicap is what you make of it...