Ladhood (2019) s01e03 Episode Script

Down Days

- Hey.
- Heya.
Oh, I actually remembered that spare key you got me for once.
I'm so sorry I'm late.
I got stuck with a really difficult problem at the climbing wall.
But anyway, I cannot wait to try this chicken! I'm looking forward to it.
Oh Mm Oh, yeah, I was going to do the recipe from the men's cookery club, wasn't I? I just didn't really have the energy for that in the end.
But you had the energy to kick the shit out of the bin? How was work? Fine.
How did the pitch go? I want to start off by thanking you guys for this opportunity to pitch my ideas for an exciting new direction for Buccaneer Bill Rum.
I want to teach you a new word today - rumification.
I am envisioning the rumification of Manchester, the rumification of Scotland the rumification of Ripon.
Buccaneer Bill is a problematic buccaneer.
This is something we can use what I want us to focus on is de-problematising pirate masculinity.
I want us to think about the semiotics of cola bubbles.
I really hope you can take on board some of these, if I say so myself, brilliant ideas, for our brand.
Um, I think, to be honest, I think I think we'll just stick with what we've got though.
"Rum is fun.
" Is that Is that a concept? It's a rhyme.
- It's not even a rhyme.
- Well, it's a half rhyme.
- Yeah, that sucks.
- Yes.
Kicking the bin just seems like a pretty immature way to react, though, no? "Ralph wept for the end of innocence, "the darkness of man's heart and the fall through the air" "of the true wise friend called Piggy.
" So that's, for me, basically about boyhood sensitivity of the emotional wisdom and potential lost in restrictive notions of masculinity.
The correct answer is actually stormy weather equals tension, but thank you for that completely unprompted speech, Liam.
You can sit down now and next time, don't stand up and come to the front unless I ask you to.
Right, for this chapter My old English teacher, Mr Dreyfus.
Absolute goon.
He thinks you're a knobhead.
He thinks you're a knobhead, he thinks you're a knobhead, she Look, I'm just going to say it.
I think you're showing signs of anxiety and depression.
- Like what? - Well, anger What are you talking about?! - Self-loathing.
- Sorry for getting angry.
I know I'm pathetic.
I'm a child.
No, I know you think that, but it's not true.
I've been thinking for a while that you think I'm overthinking, but that's just a perception that you have, that you're putting on me that then starts to actually get inside my head and does Stop! Stop.
You say you're going to get your shit together.
You say you're going to take up slam poetry again.
- It's not actually slam poetry.
- You never do.
You say you want us to move in together, but you can't even treat your possessions with any respect.
You say you want to be more active, but whenever I ask you to come climbing you just say no.
- Is it because you don't heights? - No.
I just don't like the sort of people who go to climbing walls.
See, this is the whole thing.
You know, you just you used to be more positive and fun and just up for stuff.
You never used to be this I don't know unhappy.
Look, I know how you feel.
- But when I went to therapy - I don't need to go for therapy.
I haven't got anxiety and depression or anything like that.
I'm just from the north.
I mean, being from the north is not a mental health condition.
Jess, you're from the Midlands.
You wouldn't understand.
Sorry, that was a stupid thing to say.
No, it's fine.
Look, my point is look, I definitely don't want us to break up.
What the fuck?! - Why are you saying that?! - What? That you want us to break up? I just said I definitely do not want us to break up.
Yeah, but you saying that you definitely don't want us to break up means you definitely do want us to break up.
That's not how language works.
- Oh - What're you doing? - I'm storming out.
Good idea, just clear your head.
Well, don't approve.
- Huh? - It sort of undermines me storming out if you think it's a good idea.
Oh, sorry, sorry.
No, wait.
Please don't go storming out of your own flat leaving me here all alone.
- Just please - All right, don't overdo it.
Another bin ruined and Jess is annoyed again.
Maybe she just doesn't understand because she's not a straight white man, and it's actually really hard to be a straight Fucking hell.
What a stupid thought.
I really am in a bad place.
But if Jess really knew what I'm a product of, she'd know that therapy or pills can't cure that.
It's in your blood.
Frontier Psychiatrist by The Avalanches I know I'm going to be late.
Life is hard for most teenagers, but my teen angst went further than everyone else's.
Everyone else might have been a moody teenager, but I I was different and better.
I was an existentially disillusioned teenager.
In terms of any actual psychological support, there came little beyond the PE/PSHE teacher, Mr Stones.
Bins are to be respected.
There is never, ever a reason to kick a bin, especially not existential disillusionment.
So, next time you feel angry or sad, bottle it up.
Bottle it up and then unleash it on t' badminton court.
Stones had once represented the county at badminton.
So all his advice took the form of badminton metaphors.
In badminton, you always keep your eye on the shuttlecock.
In life, you always keep your eye on the problem at hand.
There comes a time in life where you just need to get out on that court and play badminton.
This is that time.
It's badminton time.
Craggy, take a breather.
Liam needs a kick up t' arse.
I want to see a lot more enthusiasm from you, laddie.
Are you ready? Stonesy's! Stonesy's! Stonesy's cock! Yours, Liam! What the hell is up with you? I don't know, sir, I just don't I don't feel good.
Right, I'll be doctor.
Definitely not an acceptable thing for a PE teacher to say.
Definitely not even an expression.
Stand there.
Craggy, you're back on.
Right, move your head.
Good! Right, flap your arms like a bird.
Come on, come on, come on, come on.
Right, touch your toes.
- I can't - Touch your toes! Good lad.
Right, lunge with me.
Come on.
Lunge with me! Right, other leg.
Right, you've got full range of motion.
There's nowt wrong with you.
I don't know.
I just I don't I don't feel good.
Look, son, when things aren't going your way, - you just need to change the direction - Of the shuttlecock.
Of the shuttlecock, absolutely! Mine! Urgh! YEAH! Jesus Christ.
But just when it seems that the thudding monotony of school life would never be broken, something happens which meant that the thudding monotony of school life was actually, in fact, broken.
Mr Dreyfus had gone on paternity leave.
So, for two weeks our English lessons would be taken by a substitute - one Miss Monroe a very different kind of teacher.
Shut up.
O Captain! My Captain! Right, I'm sorry I'm late, but the head teacher was giving me an absolute earful about smoking outside the smoking staffroom.
The smoking staffroom? Heady days! Hello, everybody.
My name is Miss Monroe.
Do teachers usually do this, do they write their name on the thing? Probably not Right, I'm your supply teacher.
How come you're not a proper teacher, Miss? You think I want to be trapped in a classroom with you lot five days a week? Also, I'm writing a book, so.
What sort of book's that, Miss? Um, it's a sort of, er no, I really, really can't be arsed to explain it to you lot.
So, Mr Dreyfus is away on paternity leave.
I didn't know he were pregnant.
What's your name? I'm Ralph.
A bit of a joker, are you, Ralph? Yeah.
Tell us a joke, then.
- A joke? - Mm.
What does, er a dog do? What does a dog do? Yeah not really a joke, though, is it? It's OK.
It's OK not to be a bit of a joker.
It's fine, Ralph.
So, Mr Dreyfus tells me we're looking at Lord of the Flies, yes? Colonialist daydream gone wrong.
Boys leave civilisation.
Boys become savages.
Boys see a sow's head as the devil because they are boys.
Boys, boys, boys.
OK, we'll start with an easy question, shall we? What does Piggy's death represent? Sadness.
- War.
- War?! Is it stormy weather equals tension, Miss? God, have you just been learning from the Spark's Notes? Yeah? But I was thinking, for me, it's a story about boyhood sensitivity and in Ralph's mourning of Piggy, we see this sort of stunted emotion and potential lost in restrictive notions of masculinity.
What's your name? Liam.
Very good, Liam.
Very good, Liam.
Very good.
You're really getting into it, then? Oh, yeah, very much so, Miss.
I mean, it's just this intensely idyllic setting, but, like, under the surface, it's like, proper wild and that.
And, you know, like Nietzsche's essential wildness really seems - to get into - Pussy! - What happened there? - Nowt, Miss.
So have you wrecked any more bins recently? How'd you hear about that? Well, the PE teacher, Mr Stones, he was banging on about it in the staffroom.
He's furious about the vandalism, but thought you showed impressive quad strength.
I mean, he's a tosser.
Who cares what he thinks? Seems like a bit of a stupid thing to do.
Why did you do it? I don't know, Miss.
I actually think I had my own version of kicking bins.
What was it, Miss? I'd set up fake e-mail accounts and then leave one-star Amazon reviews of Ian McEwan novels.
Right I think your bin thing sounds a lot less exhausting, actually.
What's the book you're writing? Oh, um, I guess it's a sort of memoir.
What, just about your own life? Yeah, I know.
It's ridiculous, isn't it? Just writing about my own life God.
Do you do any creative writing? Oh, erm I tried writing a poem a bit ago.
Yeah? What was it about? Heroin addiction.
What about heroin addiction? Just about how, you know, people who have never taken heroin, they can't ever understand what that's like.
Have you ever taken heroin? - No.
- No Well, you know, maybe best to start off writing about what you do know.
With Miss Monroe's suggestion came a lift in my spirits as I set about finding a new way of expressing myself.
One that would impress Miss Monroe, who represented to me a portal to another world of artistic validation, while not being totally embarrassing, in case my mates, who represented the people I'd to spend every day with for at least the next four years, should discover it.
In the end, I settled on something like slam poetry, which according to my very limited judgment at that time, just seemed like rap music but for white people with thin arms.
I remember finally having my first poem completed and feeling excited to show it to Miss Monroe.
That was until "Disappointment, like a SARS outbreak - "plagued the provinces of my soul.
" - My God! "My soul, my soul is like a urinal cake.
" Oh, my God! Did you go through my coat pocket, you prick?! - It fell on t' floor.
- Liam! - Oi! - Get off me, Liam! Right, everyone! Get to your next lesson - now! Liam, can I have a word? What's the matter? He were taking the piss out of me, Miss.
Reading my poem out.
Everyone was laughing.
Well, fuck 'em.
I'm sorry, but seriously, you know, let them laugh.
I mean, everyone laughed at my one-woman Edinburgh Fringe show and it wasn't meant to be a comedy but, you know But did I care? Well, yes, but you know, you get over it.
- Fucking - Oh, come on! You know, if you were expecting to just put a bit of effort into this one thing and it be really good and everyone would be really impressed, then you may as well just give up now.
I mean, some of these lot are never going to leave this town and maybe you just want a bit more from life.
What a snobbish superior attitude to indoctrinate me with.
But, in a way, thank God she did.
Can I read it? Yeah, go on, then.
Don't you like it, Miss? No, I do.
I just think, um you're expressing some quite painful emotions.
What sort of thing? "My world is a toxic swamp.
" I meant the universal my.
"My soul is a urinal cake.
" I'm talking about the generic human soul there.
"I, I, Liam from Garforth, feel like shit.
" Poetic license.
Well, I mean, it just seems like a bit of a cry for help.
No, Miss, you You don't need to worry about me.
I'm just I'm just northern, you know.
Well, there's being northern, isn't there? And then there's literally writing, "I am depressed" in a poem.
It's got its own stanza.
It's just a poem.
Fake laugh all you want, young self.
But even then, I knew that Miss Monroe was right.
In today's parlance - I felt seen.
I just didn't have the courage to admit it.
OK, look, I want to be honest with you.
I wasn't always this zen.
I used to be a full-time teacher.
And then, um, in 1998, I called a boy a little fucking philistine for laughing at a Carol Ann Duffy poem.
And I was suspended and I lost all confidence.
And I was very close to giving up.
You mean giving up on life, Miss? Yes.
Just on teaching.
Just on teaching.
I didn't realise that trying to deal with depression by fighting it is like trying to deal with eczema by scratching it.
And that's why, you know, I'd sleep all day and I'd watch old episodes of Morse at night.
And, you know, I was just a complete mess.
And then when Ian McEwan said to me, "You need to get some therapy, love," at the Hay Festival that summer, I laughed in his face.
But then when a good friend said it to me a few years later, I listened, because I trust Hilary Mantel.
And it really helped me.
And, you know, I'm just wondering if you might find it useful to talk to someone I don't need to see a fucking therapist! Look, I'm not really supposed to do this, but, if it's helpful, you could have my e-mail address.
- Do you have an e-mail account? - Yeah.
You could drop me a line, if you want.
Getting help I mean, there's no shame in Fuck it! It's all right.
I'm just saying - what's the point? Miss Monroe was gone, and the subsequent days have eroded in my memory.
I guess that feeling of acceptance and quiet, silky camaraderie between the lads and me soon returned.
And anyway, instead of bullying me, everyone just started bullying.
Craggy because he had gotten a parka six months before they came back into fashion.
So, that took the heat off me a bit.
It's not to say I felt better, though.
I just sort of accepted how things were.
More bins were kicked, I'm sure, and school days rolled by as they always had.
So, this week we're going to be looking at alliteration.
Now, if you mention it in the exam, you will automatically get a C.
And that's my job done.
I can enjoy a nice holiday with my new son, Declan Dylan David Dreyfus.
Um Sir, would you be able to pass on Miss Monroe's e-mail address? Who's Miss Monroe? Never heard of a Miss Monroe at this school.
Oh, my God.
Miss Monroe was just in my imagination.
So, have you wrecked any more bins recently? How do you know about that? In all those memories, she never spoke to anyone except me.
They were taking the piss out of me, Miss.
Well, fuck 'em.
Ah, right, yeah.
Miss Monroe.
Substitute teacher.
Forgot who she was for a second.
No, yep.
She was real.
She spoke to Ralph, didn't she? And loads of other people, actually.
I can't give you her e-mail address.
Data protection.
Also, I don't have it.
Nobody at this school will.
She hated everyone.
Still sulking, Liam? Oh, look, lad, of course you're going to feel bad sometimes.
Life is bad, but you've just got to fight it, in't you? I'm going to tell you something that I don't tell many folk.
Many years ago, I competed for Yorkshire in t' National Badminton Championships.
If I'd have won, I would have made the Olympics, but I weren't in the right place, mentally.
It's a long story and I won't go into it.
But basically I was having an affair with my brother's wife at the time.
So, he is going into it.
They were both in the crowd and I was very, very distracted.
They were sitting over to the left, and every time I played my backhand, I could see them.
And I'd think, "Her love for him will survive anything.
" - "I can offer her.
" And my wife didn't care whether - Sir.
Right, sorry.
Anyway, the point is after that, my badminton career fell apart.
But did I give up? No.
And now I've got me own BMW.
I've met Michael Parkinson.
I'm semi-divorced, and I spend two nights a week in a Travelodge.
Is Is he proud of that? What I'm saying is you should never give up.
Never, ever accept defeat, whether it's in a game of badminton, or to a feeling of depression over the fact that you've lost a game of badminton.
Never give up.
Liam's! Yes, lad! Liam's! Stonesy! Liam's, again! Stoney's! Liam's! Stonesy's! Liam's! Stonesy's cock! Go on, Liam! We can definitely offer you support.
But first, I have to refer you for an assessment with a mental health practitioner.
That will be in about six weeks.
Six weeks? And if they feel that some form of therapy would be helpful, there'll be a wait of about three months.
Um Look, the truth is, I do care about this, but my girlfriend really cares about this, as in me coming here, like it's almost, um, an ultimatum or something.
And I sense that I might actually only have a few weeks to show her that I've changed, to potentially save the relationship.
So, taking that into account, is there anything you could do to kind of speed up the process? - Obviously not.
- No.
In the meantime, and I know this sounds basic, but it is helpful I don't know if you do any exercise or have any active hobbies? Well done, hon! So proud of you.
Amazing! Fucking hell.
Fuck's sake.
Oh! Don't panic!
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