The Divorce (2015) s01e03 Episode Script

Episode 3

1 (Jazz music) - - (Man) Why did you borrow so much cash? We want more.
I promise I'll escape from this bash with armfuls of cash.
Looking forward to my wife? You and Iris are free at last to explore the full gamut of your love.
Inside every intelligent woman is an appetite for wildly erotic trekking.
Trekking? There is something missing at the core - Something agitates your soul! - My God.
Between sisters, husbands can be swapped Tell Iris her trash becomes my treasure! Well, he had something.
A certain esprit.
Wanker.
Impressive, for a waiter.
- Nah, I'm an artist.
- Oh, no.
My advice to you, be an accountant Not everybody needs a mediocre oil But everyone pays taxes.
(Theme music) The great man speaks.
Dear friends, we welcome you for the final time Tonight, the papers are signed We sell the vines and all of this To walk into the future with only our carry-on For those who weep, cease We treasure all the love we've had Both the good times and the bad But we are not ready to forsake the ambition to be new So wish us well and wish yourself the courage that feeds us For those who weep, cease We treasure all the love we've had Both the good times and the bad To love! Past, present and future (Chorus) To love, past, present And future (Crowd murmurs) No more notes and assignations No more phone calls in the dead of night No measly text, the merest rations The nerves frayed.
The heart kept tight Now nestled in each other's curves We read aloud books on Magritte! Watch art films, talk of ouvres From this point on, we go legit! Iris will suffer the aftermath But before long, she will plainly see Her young lover, my aged other half - In this, the perfect symmetry! - (Stammers) For her, freedom, and for me, the happiest of shackles! Ah, Louise, my sweet.
Oh, the blessed sound of squalling babies.
- The fun of making chocolate crackles.
- Ah A-allow us to bid adieu to one marriage before we set the date for the next.
I cannot wait.
The cocktail hour.
Frivolous pleasures well-dispensed With offspring, you build a Lego tower Defeating tantrums when they are incensed The high life has its own chains You're bored with soirees, fancy wine and chat The company of noted brains The Booker this, the Nobel that.
Anticipation of life and noise! Oh, what tender, sweet felicity To see you pleasurably poised In robust domesticity What's that? What transpired? Are they arguing? Has he kissed her? Does Cupid stoke the fires between our host and his wife's sister? She's passive-aggressive - And possibly pissed - (Sneezes) Although at times impressive, he's a middle-aged narcissist I have loved two sisters Iris first, then Louise But with our divorce comes a longing To do exactly as I please I wanted that forbidden fruit In marriage, I had long been tortured But just one piece, however cute When the world is full of brimming orchards I think not.
Of course, it's lovely being outdoors.
The fresh air, the light, the landscape.
The gentle amble over rolling hills? I love that too.
Reorganising my study, alphabetising the Christmas card list, pondering interesting superannuation schemes.
- Simple pleasures.
- So important.
There is in fact a kind of poetry in order.
So wise, so young.
I feel a synchronicity between us.
You're a lovely woman, Ellen.
Shall we talk in the garden? - Oh! - (Laughs) What's going on with Caroline? Once the model of propriety, now drowning her sobriety Why is she in such a state? Why is she stressed? Why is she tense? Her beauty buckles with the weight Of something clearly quite intense Her beauty buckles with the weight Of something clearly quite intense Another vodka martini.
Make that two, actually.
What's going on with Caroline? What's going on with Caroline? I've wrestled with this thought Of stealing from Iris and Jed But my tender heart Betrays my steely head - I love them - Another drink? I love them The ending of my sorry tale Death is better than betrayal They will find me deep in the lake or buried in the forest Sunday papers will feature me A blurry "before" photo.
A smile, a party dress To contrast with the grisly remains The crime squad are going to recover In the miniseries A B-grade actress will play me as a victim Or a hussy! A hussyyy! At my funeral, my friends will gossip That I was always a girl with grand delusions Invisible money, my chief illusion A dilettante in a PA's body An A-S-P-I-R-A-T-I-O-N was my game An A-S-P-I-R-A-T-I-O-N Was my game And all future plans, I must dispel The next party I get to organise Will be in hell! (Thinks) I've told Lou "If only I could have you" And now I can but the thought's gone stale I can't just dump her with some puerile lamentation Too un-PC, too crude, too male Instead I must find a neat solution For instance, under my instruction Find another man who does not seem a diminution Who'll woo her With his powers of seduction But who? Who, who? But who, who, who would act? Who would agree to profiteer on cue From some unseemly contract To free me, divert Louise Who would woo her? Who, who wants to woo Lou? To free me, divert her To woo her, to woo Louise Who? Get your painting from the Kombi van.
Oh, my God! - I have a proposition - A proposition? That's right, a proposition With my imprimatur and with no cost With no cost? You could be the very next Damien Hirst I could? It's taken me a moment to uncover.
The talent that deftly flirts with all that paint.
Sometimes it takes a moment to discover.
Inside every sinner lurks a saint.
I have a vibrant urge to sing your praises In learned journals elevate your name Are you listening? Do I have your ear? Help me and I'll help you too - Are you listening? - Listening Do I have your ear? Help me and I will help you too How? If I say that your works are brill, then you can get a quarter-mill.
I want you to turn a woman's eyes from me to you Extricate me from unwanted passion, you see? If it's her you woo Your art I'll make the height of fashion If it's her you woo That's cruel! - It's devious! - Yes, it is It's unkind It's unethical Grow up, Toby! Fame exacts a price Without this deal, your art is moot Unless you agree to forfeit nice Your fate is sealed in a penguin suit! What woman? Done.
(Electronic dance music) I just can't do it.
(Inaudible) - Oh, just grabbing a wrap.
- It's a little bit chilly.
Of course, a work needs emotional grunt Or it's just self-indulgent vanity Art's not just some puerile stunt It evokes our true humanity Wow! Creativity is suffering, but pain is part Pain is part of passion Pain is part of passion Part of passion? (Sighs) I'm sure you're a wonderful artist.
I'm sure you could be every bit as good as that guy.
Well Well, I, ah, I am that that guy.
You're that guy? W it's it's just a small work.
Well, it's it's a big work, but it's um It's a small, small work.
The way the light plays - Against the surface planes - Spontaneous act of my creation.
Intensity never wanes Another brilliant observation Rage and fury, nothing cute My God, you're amazingly astute Impasto, so authentic - Volatile - It's in my customary style (Both) Who are you? - At last it seems - At last it seems - That love has spoken - Something true and real and deep I feel as if I've woken - Woken from - (Both) some impenetrable sleep! And the first thing that I see An angel looking down on me An angel's come to me I'm so confused.
I love Jed.
Forgive me, but I think you'll find That he is not the man for you OK, he's rich and refined But what you need is young and true A man you can look into And see reflection of your soul A man who fits your perfect half To make an even better whole (Electronic dance music) (Owl hoots) As a child, I was abandoned Though raised with love, I feel a void Such pain, such sorrow But don't blame your mother She was once a young girl with nowhere to turn I'm sure she loved you And out of love, relinquished you So wise, Ellen, such wisdom Where does such insight come from? Let me confess to you I once gave up a child I know the mother's pain Equals the child's Although I loved him On first sight I knew to serve him well I had to let him Let him? Go I tied a velvet ribbon (Both) round his wrist Saying "'Loved" My God.
I've been looking for you all my life.
My sweet boy, last time I glimpsed you You lay in a nurse's arms Then you disappeared, taken through a door I wanted so to love you well And I knew that I I had just forsaken the key to all of my feelings The key to all of my joy And the key to all of my happiness Oh, my sweet boy I've found you The key to all of my feelings You.
(Both) Ahh Ahhh Ahhhh Ahhhh - Then I tied a - Then you tied a - Ribbon around your wrist - Ribbon around my wrist - On it I wrote, - On it you wrote, (Both) "Loved, my son.
Loved" (Both) On the velvet ribbon, - I tied - You tied (Both) I've been looking for you all my life - When I glimpsed you - When you glimpsed me - You lay in a nurse's arms - I lay in a nurse's arms I've been looking for you (Both) For all my life (All sing) Love, love, bitter and capricious Counters the ordinary and officious And while it rips affairs asunder Reignites a sense of wonder Love, love, bitter and capricious Counters the ordinary and delivers Sparkle, wisdom, a little pain And here we are Here we are again Good God! I have to get dressed The champagne socialists will all be stressed - Can we talk? - Shh.
We two must part This handsome waiter and his art Stole my heart The deal's off.
In the art world, a deal is a deal.
(Man) That'll be the divorce papers.
(Chorus) Here we go, here we go Here we go again! (Screams)