This programme contains very strong language
from the outset and throughout.
♪Beautiful Noise
♪ What a beautiful noise
♪ Coming up from the street
♪ Got a beautiful sound
♪ It's got a beautiful beat
♪ It's a beautiful noise
♪ Going on everywhere
♪ Like the clickety-clack of a train on a track
♪ It's got rhythm to spare
♪ It's a beautiful noise
♪ It's a sound that I love
♪ And it fits me as well
♪ As a hand in a glove
♪ Yes, it does
♪ Yes, it does... ♪
Ah. Afternoon, Bill.
Mr Housego! What thrills await our drooling public?
Actually, save it. My liver's having a beer party.
New girl?
Christine? No.
Hm. They all merge after a while.
Well, I'm sure she feels the same about us.
Oh, no, do you think so? Well, not you, obviously.
The Frank Sinatra of TV journalism.
Who says that?
No, just... Me. Now.
Ah.
Erm... Mr Grundy, this evening's line-up.
The main item is Queen. The Queen?!
No, Queen, the pop group.
Ah! Hey, did I tell you about the time I interviewed Roy Orbison?
-Yes, you did. -Because of his dark glasses, I thought he was blind
so I offered to show him to the gents
and I'm standing behind him and he says,
"Mr Grundy, either you think I'm blind
or I'm gonna have to disappoint you."
Ha-ha-ha!
So, we're leading the show with a consultation document on the regeneration of Docklands.
Ah, and in years to come, they'll all say, "Where were you
when they unveiled the consultation document on the regeneration of Docklands?"
Then -
Thanks, Christine. Let's let Bill digest it in his own time.
I doubt there's anything I can't handle, poppet!
Yeah!
Fucking class.
Ponce. Psycho.
Eh? Steve, Steve.
Steve, my bass! Fucking hell, Steve!
Can we rehearse?
As long as we all respect the bassist for a change.
Dick.
It's wet now!
I'll be electrocuted. I fucking hope so.
Why do you do that?
I've got a sinus condition.
What song are we doing?
♪Pretty Vacant
♪ There's no point in asking
♪ You'll get no reply
♪ Oh, just remember, don't decide... ♪
Fuck, that hurts.
Can you see it? Crouching at the back like an evil dog?
My molars are nonsensically large.
I mean, all my teeth are. And my cock.
So when it hurts, it's quite spectacular.
Am I swollen, darlings?
No, up here.
I can't possibly go on television with this visage.
Would one of you dears call in sick?
And someone had better tell Brian before he starts doing his hair.
They really need to speed those things up.
Erm... Eric Hall rang from EMI. Queen are cancelling.
Freddy Mercury's got a toothache.
Well, he is 80% teeth, poor sod.
Does Eric know we're on in two hours?
He's offering the group The Sex Pistols instead.
Who are they? They're a punk band.
They're really angry. I wouldn't book them.
Bill? Hm?
Queen are cancelling.
The group. Not the monarch.
They're offering us a punk band.
OK.
If they can be here within 90 minutes, fine by us.
Are you sure? If anyone can handle them, Bill can.
I fucking hate 'em.
What's wrong with them? Loads. And talentless cunts.
What, you don't even like Hey Jude?
No. Irrelevant. Next.
Pretentious dogshit. What's wrong with Hey... Jeff?
We've already got a John and a Paul.
Steve, change your name to George.
You're going on the telly in a couple of hours.
Are we, fuck. They want you all on Thames TV.
Not singing, though.
Johnny, I know you're not one for talking but force yourself.
Why would we want to do that?
Your mum'll like it. OK, plug the single and the tour
and our new bondage range if there's time.
EMI are sending a big limo.
Do we look like ABBA on a night out?
-No. -There you go, then. It's not our style.
I don't do adverts.
Do it or I'll stop your wages.
..and presenting live TV is like trying to stand on a charging camel
with someone shouting in your ear while you write a sonnet.
Yes, Bill.
But I've written some shit-hot sonnets in my time.
And if it wasn't me out there, it would be some floppy-haired youth
who thinks it's clever to be stupid. It's not.
Not if a dwindling veneer of civilisation is all we have.
You know, if you wanted to park yourself on my lap, you don't have to ask.
Yes, Bill.
♪No Regrets
♪ There's no regrets
♪ No tears goodbye
♪ I don't want you back... ♪
All right in the green room?
Mm. I just wanted to warn you, the Sex Pistols might say...
You know...
What?
Fuck.
Why do you say that?
Well, they're saying it a lot downstairs.
Oh, well, I say it a lot off air.
It's Bill's favourite word. After "I'll have a large one".
Thanks.
We'll be hearing from a councillor about what they're going to do
with that white elephant, The London Docklands.
Fascinating to see what they do there.
We also have a musical interlude for you, in the shape of The Sex Pistols.
Oh, no. It's Mr Sven Gali.
What are you doing boozing? It's free. You have to.
You're going on air in a minute. Don't drink any more -
All right, so be it.
That's why I brought this lot. They can talk sense.
Bla-de-bla-de-bleugh.
How you doing, darlin'? You all right? Lovely.
Anyway, choose one of these to wear. From the shop.
Maybe we need a manager who's not a shopkeeper.
Everyone's selling something.
That looks nice, Johnny. Try that.
Or not. OK.
Tits. Always funny.
Have you seen this? Stranglers slagging us off for being scum.
Well, come on. You are scum, aren't you? A bit.
Oh, yeah, the anti-Christ anarchist can dish it out but he can't take it.
Oi! If I weren't going to nick that TV, I'd put your head through it.
Save your rapier-like wit for the nation's millions of viewers.
Hello! Again!
Helloooo!
Yeah, all right. Yes, I suppose I am quite...
So, I'll be back in five minutes to take you to the studio.
Thanks, babe.
Oh, what would you go for? The tits or the Cambridge rapist?
Oh. Erm... probably...tits.
Just to be on the safe side.
Whoo-oo-oo!
Mike.
Bloody hell.
Mind you, nice jumper.
They're punk rockers. The new craze, they tell me.
Their heroes, not the nice -clean Rolling Stones. -Action!
You see? They're as drunk as I am.
They are clean by comparison.
They're a group called The Sex Pistols.
Here we go. I'm surrounded now by all of them.
Hold onto your hats.
I am told that that group have received £40,000
from a record company.
Doesn't that seem slightly opposed
to their anti-materialistic view of life?
No, the more the merrier. Really?
Oh, yeah. Well, tell me more, then.
We've fucking spent it, ain't we? I don't know. Have you?
Tell me he didn't just say that. He said it.
It's all right. Could have been "flippin'".
Yeah, it's all gone. -Really? -Down the boozer.
Keep it fun, Bill. Good lord!
Now, I want to know one thing. What?
Are you serious or are you just trying to make me laugh?
Better.
No, it's all gone. Gone.
No, but I mean -about what you're doing. -Yeah.
You are serious? Mm.
Beethoven, Mozart, Bach and Brahms have all died -
All heroes of ours, ain't they?
Really? What were you saying, sir?
Don't talk to the mad one!
They're wonderful people.
Are they? Oh, yes. They really turn us on.
But they're dead.
Well, suppose they turn other people on?
That's just their tough shit.
Do something, Bill.
It's what?
Nothing. Rude word. Next question.
No, no. What was the rude word?
Enough! I'm warning you.
Shit.
Fucking hell! What are we going to do?
Good heavens. You frighten me to death
We've got some VT of Queen.
Tell them about the tour and the single!
What about you girls behind?
Good. Stay with them.
He's like your dad, this geezer, ain't he?
Are you... Or your grandad.
Stop it!
Are you worried or enjoying yourself?
Enjoying myself. -Are you? -Yeah.
That's what I thought you were doing.
Always wanted to meet you. Did you really?
We'll meet afterwards, shall we? Oh, you dirty sod!
You dirty old man!
He does have a point. Bill, this is bad.
Well, keep going, chief. Keep going.
Go on. You've got another five seconds. Say something outrageous.
You dirty bastard. Oh, and again.
What the fuck are you doing?!
You dirty fucker.
What a clever boy
What a fucking rotter.
Well, that's it for tonight. The other rocker, Eamonn,
and I'm saying nothing else about him, will be back tomorrow.
I'll be seeing you soon. I hope I'm not seeing you again.
From me, though, good night.
Oh, shit.
Oh, my God. I think I'm going to be sick.
Oh, my goodness.
We really must start watching more early evening TV.
Well, I don't reckon they'll show that.
You do know it was live?
It weren't, was it?
Where's Malc?
I need a piss.
Hello. What the fuck do you want?
I'm sorry. How do you mean, swearing?
-I didn't egg them on! -You said, "Say something outrageous".
That's about as egging as egging gets.
They came here determined to make a name for themselves.
What were you doing inviting feral children on air?
They were a late replacement!
Well, next time, use Vera fucking Lynn!
Listen, Mike. I'm a seasoned professional.
If I couldn't handle them, Jesus couldn't!
I'm pretty sure he'd have done a better job.
And he wouldn't have tried to pull the...freaky bird.
The switchboard can't cope with the volume of complaints.
One man kicked in his new £380 TV in disgust.
I'll see you in the bar.
The top brass will have a say about this.
And Mike, the switchboard -Oh, it's the bloody Somme all over again!
Send the poor duffers over the top.
We can make it better if we deal cannily with the fallout.
Mike! The excess calls are -diverting to the green room. -What?!
Top brass have another G Bill, shut up!
Well, stop the phones diverting! They can't!
Who's in the green room? THEY are.
Shit.
Well, I guarantee the viewers will be on my side.
They'll know it was a minutely planned publicity stunt.
♪ ..when the story began and I fell in love with you
♪ I love your mortal sin... ♪
Why are you hiding, Malc?
You have ruined everything.
I didn't actually say a word.
I thought you wanted us to make a splash.
A splash!
Not a fucking deathwish tidal wave!
Do you know how long I've been working on this? On you?
Oh, my God. He's crying.
I'm not.
I am...melting with disappointment.
Oh, piss the fuck off, mate. Do you know what I mean?
"Now, you listen to me. I've never heard - "
No, you listen, you twatty winge-bag.
People are angry. I hate that.
Let's hope this all blows over.
Get a good night's sleep. You're on tour tomorrow. Norwich.
You fucked off yet? You still there?
Eh? Are you still there?
Fuck off.
Oh, I thought the Sex Pistols were really nice.
The problem was the pissed old wanker.
-What's happening? -The building's under attack by telephone.
This is Viewer's Feedback. You phone in and we shout at you cos you're a fucking disgrace!
Seems we've captured the public imagination.
-Right. -No, that wasn't me. I was at home shagging your wife.
This is... Oh, fucking do one, you twat.
..spectacular.
Yeah, your little moan, write it down, wrap a pineapple in it
and shove it up your shitter.
Oh, hello, Nancy, you fucking -
Apologies. The views just expressed are not those of Thames Television.
Thank you. Why don't you -
Excuse me!
Your limousine is waiting!
Your limousine is waiting.
Hello. Thames Television. Yeah, why don't you fucking -
Your bloody car's outside!
That's so rude.
Don't you...
Kiss And Say Goodbye
♪ I had to meet you here today
♪ There's just so many things to say
Thank you for having us.
♪ Please don't stop me till I'm through
Fuck.
♪ This is something I hate to do... ♪
Bill.
I've just spoken to the bosses. We're all agreed on the good news.
Nobody said cunt.
That's right, isn't it? Nobody said cunt?
No. Nobody said...that.
But only two people have ever said fuck on TV before.
Kenneth Tynan in 1965 and Peregrine Worsthorne in 1973.
Hm. It's always the posh gits, isn't it?
Until now.
Look me in the eye and tell me you weren't drunk.
I wasn't. Though I'm well on the way now.
You're suspended for two weeks.
Do you know what Da Vinci's Last Supper looks like
without Christ in it?
Well, that's what the Today programme will resemble.
And let's pick a Judas. Again with the Jesus.
Just take a look at yourself, Bill.
I was under pressure.
I thought I was speaking for people like me.
But if I let it go too far, it was to show that lot up for what they are.
The foul and horrible future.
And do you know what this makes you? Oh, do tell.
The past.
♪If You Leave Me Now
♪ If you leave me now
♪ You'll take away the biggest part of me
♪ Ooh-ooh-ooh, no, baby... ♪
We don't want them playing in our town.
What they need is a right good hiding.
I was disgusted. Those freaks and their swearing.
Grundy was as much to blame as they were.
He was encouraging them to say the words.
I was so angry with this filth that I took a swing with my boot
and my pricey new TV blew up.
I watched it with my mum and my stepdad
and none of us could believe it.
I've never seen any language like that on TV before. Seriously.
I called in to the TV company to complain and I got more abuse.
We've seen it all before with Elvis Presley and his pelvis.
Now it's punks but they're all God's children.
I just wish they would clean up their language.
I didn't know what to say. I'm an officer of the law
so I told them to off.
I loved it. They're So cool.
Seriously. Wow.
Wow.
The Sex Pistols have put punk and what it stands for on the map.
Why stop there?
Wage slaves, throw off your chains, OK?
This is about fear. Nobody should be fearful. Ever.
I saw all this coming.
It is a moment in history when society changed.
As the underclass burst its chains.
Music is, if you like, the fuel.
Wrath and frustration are the blazing torches
and the old order with its grizzled henchmen
is the pile of desiccated dead wood
that is about to go up in flames.
Woof!
That's a fire, not a dog.
"Johnny, what have you got to say?"
Music was dreary.
Everything is boring.
Maybe now it won't be.
This is nice.
Two weeks off, to potter.
No, I think that's it for me.
I've been sent on the long walk back to the pavilion.
Apart from the odd job deputising on Tonight Up North.
Perhaps an emergency fill-in on Celebrity Squares.
And I'll cut the ribbon on a small supermarket or two
on a provincial high street.
So, I'll be at home a lot more now.
ELTON JOHN Don't Go Breaking MY Heart
♪Anarchy In The UK
♪ Right...now
♪ Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha
♪ I am an anti-Christ
♪ I am an anarchist
♪ Don't know what I want
♪ But I know how to get it
♪ I want to destroy the passer by
♪ Cos I want to be anarchy
♪ No dogsbody
♪ Anarchy for the UK
♪ It's coming sometime and maybe
♪ I give a wrong time, stop a traffic line
♪ Your future dream has sure been seen through
♪ Cos I want to be anarchy
♪ In the city... ♪
subtitles by Deluxe E-mail sky.subtitles@sky.uk