Billy Elliot

This film contains strong language

MUSIC: "Cosmic Dancer" by T Rex

# I was dancing when I was 12

# I was dancing when I was 12

# I was dancing when I was, aah

# I was dancing when I was, aah

# I danced myself right out the womb

# I danced myself right out the womb

# Is it strange to dance so soon?

# I danced myself right out the womb

# I was dancing when I was eight

# I was dancing when I was eight

# Is it strange to dance so late?

# Is it strange to dance so late?

# Aah

# Aa-aah

# I danced myself into the tomb

# I danced myself into the tomb

# Is it strange to dance so soon?

# I danced myself into the tomb

# Is it wrong to understand

# The fear that dwells inside a man?

# What's it like to be a loon...? #

Oh, no!

# I liken it to a balloon

# Aah

# Aa-aah

# I danced myself out of the womb

# I danced myself out of the womb... #

Grandma!

Your eggs.

# ..Is it strange to dance so soon? #

It's Billy.

# I danced myself into the tomb... #

Come on.

# ..I danced myself out of the womb

# I danced myself out of the womb

# Is it strange to dance so soon? #

RECORD JUMPS Fuck!

-Have you been playing my records, you little twat?

-I never played nowt.

-Ow!

-Knob head.

-If Dad knew you smoked that stuff, he'd go mental.

-Fuck off, will you?

Twat!

FAINT SOUND OF "Cosmic Dancer" FROM HEADPHONES

< Here we go, Dad. Come on, man!

< Dad!

Hurry, Dad. We'll be late.

The whole friggin' world's gonna be on that picket line this morning. ..Oi, have you tidied our room?

-There's not much of this coal left.

-We'll be digging it up again next month.

-Don't kid yerself.

I'm not waiting for youse.

-Tony. Tony!

-See you down at the picket line, Dad.

..Leave it, Billy.

Mam would've let us.

GRANDMA HUMS SOFTLY

Your 50 pence is on the fridge.

ANGRY CHORUS OF "Scab!"

Are you sure you're not coming?

-Am I fuck! It's a load of bollocks.

-No, it's not.

-It's a load of shite.

-Anyway, I don't know why you bother.

-I'm good at it.

-Are you shite!

-Them gloves went out with the ark.

-They're my dad's, these.

-Exactly(!)

MAN: Right, lads, listen up. ..Hold it!

Now, because they're using downstairs as a soup kitchen for the striking miners,

I'm going to let Mrs Wilkinson use the bottom end of the boxing hall for her ballet lessons.

-So, NO hanky-panky! Understood? BOYS:

-Yes.

Elliot, you're late. Get changed and get in here.

Right, then, lads, give it all you've got. Round one.

PIANO MUSIC STARTS UP

Well, don't just stand there, Elliot.

Oh, God, not again! This is man-to-man combat, not a tea dance. What are you daeing, man?

Hit him! He's just pissing about. Now, get stuck in. He's like a fanny in a fit.

BILLY! Hit him.

Jesus Christ, Billy Elliot, you're a disgrace to them gloves, your father and this boxing hall.

You owe us 50 pence.

..Oi, Liberace, will you give it a rest?!

..Billy, punchbag!

-You're not going until you do it properly.

-Shit.

Give these to Mrs Wilkinson when you've finished. I'll see you next week.

OK, girls, left hand on the bar. ..Thank you, Mr Braithwaite. And...

pretty arms.

Bottoms in.

Where are you looking, Susan?

Lift. Feel the music. Feel it.

..In time, Debbie, please.

And one, and two, and three

and four, and five, six, seven, eight.

And one, and two, and three

and four, and five...

And hold.

Hold it.

Support yourselves! Don't look at me. Look ahead.

Where's your confidence? Come on!

And down.

Lovely.

(God!)

And, Debbie, eyes front.

And five, and six

and seven, and stop.

..Thank you, Mr Braithwaite. Right, into the centre, girls.

Miss.

-Miss, the keys.

-Not now.

..Right, Mr Braithwaite, "The Sun'll Come Out Tomorrow".

(Fat chance.)

..Ready, and...

Port de bras forward.

And up.

Forward.

And up.

-Why don't you join in?

-Forward.

And up.

Port de bras forward.

And up.

And hold.

And three, and four,

and Debbie, straight leg, seven and eight.

And one, and two

and three and four, and five...

boots off, seven and eight. What size are you?

-Miss, the keys.

-Into the centre.

Go on, I dare you!

..Prepare...

and one, and two,

and three, and four,

and five, and six,

and...and eight.

And hold.

Hold it.

Hold it.

Hold it.

What have we got here, then?

Heel out.

Drop your hip.

Nice...straight leg.

Good arch.

Turn it like that.

..Right, class dismissed. Home time.

..Debbie, get the 50ps.

CAR HORN TOOTS

-You owe me 50 pence.

-No, I don't.

-Why don't you bring it next week?

-I can't. I go to boxing.

-You're crap at boxing.

-I'm not!

-Shut up.

..I thought you enjoyed it.

Please yourself, darling.

FRED ASTAIRE SINGS "Top Hat, White Tie And Tails"

# I'm steppin' out, my dear To breathe an atmosphere that simply reeks with class

# And I trust that you'll excuse my dust when I step on the gas

# For I'll be there

# Puttin' down my top hat

# Mussin' up my white tie

# Dancin' in my tails. #

ORCHESTRA PLAYS

He was your mum's favourite, was Fred Astaire.

We used to watch him at the Palace picture house.

And then dance round the front room like lunatics. Marvellous!

Mind, they used to say I could've been a professional.

Come on, Grandma. Not now!

Grandma!

It's this one here.

Grandma! It's over here!

Tony...do you ever think about death?

Fuck off!

Night-night, then.

-Plenty of boys do ballet, you know.

-What boys do ballet?

-Nobody round here, but plenty of men do.

-Poofs.

-Not necessarily poofs.

-Who, like?

-Wayne Sleep, he's not a poof.

-He's as fit as an athlete.

-I bet he couldn't beat Daley Thompson.

-Not in a race, but in stamina.

-Why don't you come tomorrow?

-I can't. I have to go to boxing, haven't I?

Please yourself, then.

-See you around.

-Aye, see you.

Ta-ra.

MAN: Right, lads, look sharp. Everybody out!

PIANO MUSIC

One, two, three.

Arms are in fifth.

One, two, three. One, two, three. Turn, turn, stop.

-One, two, three. Where are those arms?

-I don't know what to do.

-Follow the others.

..Shut up, Debbie! One, two, three. One, two, three. Nice pretty arms. And stop.

-See, I told you it takes loads of practice.

-Debbie!

-What, Mam?

-What do you call me?

-Miss.

-Shove off.

..So, do we get the pleasure of your company next week?

It's just...

-I feel like a right sissy.

-Well, don't act like one. 50p, please.

If you're not coming again, give us your shoes.

No, you're all right.

Right.

-What are you doing, going round here like creeping Jesus?

-Nowt.

-They found your nana in the Spar stores. Where have you been?

-Boxing.

-What are you doing?

-I forgot my gloves.

-They were my dad's gloves.

You'd better take better care of them.

MUSIC: "Get It On" by T Rex

# Well, you're dirty and sweet Clad in black, don't look back And I love you

# You're dirty, sweet And you're my girl

# Get it on, bang a gong, get it on

# Get it on, bang a gong, get it on

# Well, you're built like a car... #

This way.

# ..You've got a hubcap diamond star halo... #

So, you go to ballet every week?

-Yeah, but don't say owt.

-Why do you take lessons?

-Why do you think? To get better.

-To get to wear a tutu?

Fuck off. They're only for lasses.

I wear my shorts.

-You want to ask for a tutu.

-What for?

-To dance in.

-I'd look a right dickhead.

I think you'd look wicked.

# ..Get it on, get it on, get it on... #

Come on.

# Well, you're windy and wild

# You've got the blues in your shoes and your stockings

# You're windy and wild, oh, yeah

# Well, you're built like a car

# You've got a hubcap diamond star halo

# You're dirty sweet and you're my girl

# Get it on, bang a gong Get it on... #

GUITAR

I don't know why you're looking at that.

You can't take that out on a junior ticket.

SIREN WAILS

Come on!

# Get it on, bang a gong, get it on

# Get it on, bang a gong get it on... #

See you, then.

# Take me! #

'OK, Billy Elliot, into the centre.

'I want you to watch carefully, girls. First, arabesque.'

Shoulders. Look forward, beyond your fingertips.

There.

Spin it, Mr Braithwaite, spin it!

Come on, spin it!

Now, focus. Look in the mirror.

Agh!

-Christ Almighty!

-What's going on?

-Nothing.

Prepare, one, and two. Strong position.

Weight on both legs and...

pirouette and down.

Up you get.

Find a place on that bloody wall...

..and focus on that spot.

Then whip your head round and come back to that spot. Prepare!

-One and two, and...

-Fuck it.

Have you got the spot?

Prepare!

-Prepare!

-Prepare.

Go!

Go!

Go!

Go!

Go, Billy!

What have I told you about that arm?

Right, back to the bar.

You look like a right wanker to me, son.

UPBEAT MUSIC

-Jackie, if it's the 50p a session, I can dae without it.

-What are you talking about?

-The boxing. I haven't seen your Billy for months. I didn't like to say anything.

-First I knew about it.

-He's never got the gloves off.

-Send him round to my house. I'll knock some sense into him.

MEN SCREAM "Scab!"

Step, open, and balance, balance...

ANGRY CHORUS OF "Scab!"

Right, let's do it again.

ANGRY CHANTING

Open and LIFT your chest! Let's do it again. ..Thank you, Mr Braithwaite.

What are your arms doing?

Pay attention. Arms, like this, all right?

..Thank you, Mr Braithwaite. ..Step REALLY open, powerful.

Proud!

-You're not concentrating.

-Yes, I am.

-You're not even trying.

Can WE have a go of it, Miss?

Let's do it again.

Listen, have you noticed anything weird about our Billy lately?

What are you after, a list?

Aye-aye.

Got enough food there, scab(?)

-What are you doing?

-Scabs eat well, eh?

My best mate! First rule of the union, Gary, you never cross a picket line.

We're fucked if you forget that! < We're fucked anyway.

RADIO: 'In a speech to Tory MPs yesterday, Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher

'referred to members of the striking National Union of Mineworkers as the enemy within.

'The speech follows violent clashes between police officers and...'

-See you, then.

-Wait! Your breakfast...

What the hell's he up to?

BALLET MUSIC PLAYED ON PIANO

One, two, three, pas de bourree.

And one, two, three, and a turn.

And a one, two, three, pas de bourree.

And a one, two, three, pas de bourree.

And a one, two, three, pas de bourree.

And a one, two, three, pas de bourree.

And a one, two, three, pas de bourree.

And a one, two, three, pas de bourree.

YOU...OUT...NOW!

I beg your pardon?

Please, Miss.

Um...

Which way are we facing? Come on. And a one,

two, three, pas de bourree. And a...

-Ballet.

-What's wrong with ballet?

-What's wrong with ballet?!

-It's perfectly normal.

-"Perfectly normal".

I used to go to ballet.

See?

Aye, for your nana. For girls. N-Not for lads, Billy.

Lads do football or...

boxing or...

..wrestling.

Not friggin' ballet!

What lads do wrestling?

Don't start, Billy.

-I don't see what's wrong with it.

-You know what's wrong with it.

-No, I don't.

-Yes, you do.

-No, I don't!

Yes, you bloody well do! Who do you think I am?

You know quite nicely.

What?

What are you trying to say, Dad?

You're asking for a hiding, son.

-No, I'm not!

-You are, Billy.

-It's not just poofs, Dad.

Some ballet dancers are as fit as athletes. What about that Wayne Sleep? He was a ballet dancer.

-Wayne Sleep?!

-Aye.

Listen, from now on, you can forget about the fucking ballet! You can forget about the boxing, as well.

I'm bursting my arse for those 50 pences and you...! You'll stay here and look after your nana. Got it?

Good!

-They used to say I could've been a professional dancer.

-Shut up!

I hate you! You're a BASTARD!

Get off!

Billy!

MUSIC: "Children Of The Revolution" by T Rex

# But you won't fool the children of the revolution

# No, you won't fool the children of the revolution

# No, no, no... #

GUITAR

DOG BARKS

# You won't fool the children of the revolution

# No, you won't fool the children of the revolution

# No, you won't fool the children of the revolution

# No, you won't fool the children of the revolution... #

Oh, hello.

-My dad'll kill me if he knows I'm here.

-He's stopped you coming to classes.

It's not his fault, Miss.

-That's all right with you, is it?

-I suppose so.

-You should stand up to him.

-You don't know what he's like.

-Well, that blows it.

Blows what, Miss?

..Debbie!

MAN: I've heard a lot about you. Durham's little Gene Kelly, eh?

-Your dad work down the pit, then?

-Yeah.

-It must be hard for the family, being out on strike. He is out on strike, isn't he?

-Of course.

-Don't worry, it won't last long.

-Tom, don't!

-It's just a few bloody commies stirring things up.

-Let's face it, they haven't got a leg to stand on.

-Who doesn't?

The miners. Well, it stands to reason, doesn't it?

Some pits are just uneconomical.

-It costs more money to dig the coal out than they get for the coal. What does that tell you?

-I dunno.

-You need to think about that, don't you, son?

-Tom!

-I'd shut the lot of them down tomorrow.

-For God's sake!

-What do you do, Mr Wilkinson?

-He's been made redundant. >

-Thought he was gonna hit me.

-He's just under a lot pressure. That's what Mam says.

-I think it's because he drinks too much.

-Does he?

-He's always pissed. Once he pissed himself.

-Your dad?!

-Cos he's unhappy, cos they sleep in separate beds.

-Why do they do that?

-So they can't have sex.

-Do they not have sex?

-Dad did it with this woman from work. But they don't think I know.

Do you miss your mam, then?

I don't really miss her as such. It's more like just feeling sad.

Especially when I remember all of a sudden, when I've forgot that she was dead.

-What about your mum? Does she not have sex?

-No, she's unfulfilled.

-That's why she does dancing.

-She does dancing instead of sex? Your family's weird.

-No, they're not.

They are, though. They're mental.

MUSIC: "Children Of The Revolution"

# Yeah! #

Get off!

# Wah! #

See? You're a nutter, you.

Debbie! It's time for Billy to go home.

-..Come on, Billy, I'll drop you off at the corner.

-See you, Debbie.

DOOR CLOSES

OK, then.

Miss...

what have I blown?

-ENGINE OFF

-This'll sound strange, Billy.

For some time now, I've been thinking of the Royal Ballet School.

Aren't you a bit old, Miss?

Oh, not me - YOU! I'm the bloody teacher.

-They hold auditions in Newcastle.

-I'd never be good enough. I know nowt.

They're not interested in how much ballet you know. They teach you that.

-It's how you move and how you express yourself that's important.

-What?

-I think you're good enough.

-It would mean a lot of hard work.

-But I'm banned.

-Maybe I should have a word with him.

-No, Miss!

-I could teach you on your own.

-We couldn't afford it.

-I'm not doing it for the money.

-What about Dad?

-He doesn't need to know.

-My boxing...

-If you want to piss about with your mates, that's fine!

-Don't lose your blob.

-Blob?!

-So we could do it privately?

-Just you and me.

Miss, you don't fancy me, do you?

No, Billy, funnily enough, I don't. Now, piss off!

Piss off, yourself.

See you Monday, then.

-Are you coming in or what?

-What are you doing?

-Just dressing up.

Whose dress is that?

Come on!

-Whose dress is that?

-It's my sister's.

-She gave YOU it?

-She doesn't know.

-You can have one of my mum's.

-No, you're all right.

-What are you doing that for?

-I'm just trying it on.

-Christ!

-Come here.

Stay still.

-There.

-Won't we get in trouble?

-Don't be stupid. My dad does it all the time.

-Dresses in your mam's clothes?

-When he thinks we're out.

Have you got a tutu yet?

-Do you think being a ballet dancer would be better than being a miner?

-I don't know.

-I've got an audition in Newcastle.

-What for?

-To go to ballet school.

-Ballet school? Is that in Newcastle?

-London.

-You'd have to move? With your Tony and everybody?

-No, by myself.

-That's a bit steep.

-Can't you be a ballet dancer here?

-Don't be stupid!

-When are you going?

-I dunno.

-I haven't even got in yet.

-What does your dad say?

-He doesn't know.

-Fuckin' hell!

-Are you not going to tell him?

-Not yet.

-He might be quite pleased. He could rent your room.

-He couldn't.

What do you reckon?

-I think you shouldn't bother.

-Why not?

-I'd miss you.

Fuckin' hell!

Brought your things?

I don't know if they're right, Miss.

-If they're special to you, they're right.

-What are they for?

To give us some ideas for a dance. Let's see them.

What's that?

-It's a letter.

-I can see it's a letter!

It's my mam's.

She wrote it for when I was 18. But I opened it.

Here.

"To my son, Billy.

"Dear Billy,

"I know I must seem like a distant memory to you, which is probably a good thing.

"It will have been a long time...

-"..and I will have missed seeing you grow, missed you crying, laughing and shouting...

-..shouting...

"I will have missed telling you off.

"But please know that I was always there...

-"..with you through everything...

-..with you through everything...

"and I always will be.

"And I am proud to have known you.

"And I am proud that you were mine.

"Always be yourself.

"I love you for ever.

"Mam."

She must've been a very special woman, your mother.

She was just my mam.

I brought a tape, an' all.

What is it?

"I Love To Boogie". It's one of our Tony's.

# We love to boogie

# We love to boogie

# Jitterbug boogie

# Bolan pretty boogie

# We love to boogie on a Saturday night

# Belinda Mae Fender's got a Cadillac Bone

# Jenny lost her cherry walking all the way home

# The passions of the Earth blasted its mind, now it's neat, sweet, ready for the moon-based grind

# We love to boogie We love to boogie on a Saturday night

# We love to boogie

# We love to boogie

# High school boogie

# Jitterbug boogie

# We love to boogie on a Saturday night... #

INSTRUMENTAL

# You rattlesnake out with your tail feathers high

# Jitterbug left and smile to the sky

# With your black velvet cape and your stovepipe hat

# Be-bop baby The dance is where it's at

# I love to boogie Yes, I love to boogie on a Saturday night

# I said I love to boogie I love to boogie

# Jitterbug boogie

# I love to boogie, I... #

Grandma, tea time!

-Where are you going?

-Go back to sleep.

It's four o'clock.

You weren't thinking of taking it with you?

You just want to stand round, getting the shit kicked out of you. Some of us are ready to fight back.

-They're already after you. You're no good to us in jail.

-I don't plan on getting caught.

-What's going on?

-Get back to bed! Both of you!

-Fuck you.

Put it down.

-Are you going to stop me?

-I'm warning you.

-Since Mam died, you're nothing but a useless twat. What...?

Stop it!

What the fuck are YOU looking at?

You haven't been practising.

Prepare! One, two. And one, and two...

Get up!

Miss, I can't do it.

-That's because you're not concentrating.

-I AM concentrating.

-You're not even trying.

-I am, Miss.

-Do it again.

-I can't.

You do it again!

No!

Shit!

-I'm sorry.

-It's all right for you. It's not you who has to do it.

-I know.

-You don't! What do you know, in your posh house, with your husband that pisses himself?!

-Like everyone else, all you want is to tell me what to do!

-Now, wait...

-I don't want to do this audition.

-You only want me to do it for you.

-Billy...

-Because you're a failure.

-Don't you dare talk to me like that.

You don't even have a proper dancing school. Don't pick on me cos you fucked up your own life.

-Can I put a tape on, Miss?

-All right, if you must.

MUSIC: "Swan Lake" by Tchaikovsky

It's cush, isn't it?

So, is there a story, then, Miss?

Of course.

-It's about a woman who's captured by an evil magician.

-Sounds crap.

And this woman, this beautiful woman, is forced to be a swan.

Except for a few hours every night, when she becomes alive.

When she becomes real again.

And then, one night...

she meets this young prince.

And he falls in love with her.

And she realises...

that this is the one thing that will allow her to become a real woman once more.

-So, then what happens?

-He promises to marry her and goes off with someone else, of course.

-She has to be a swan for good?

-She dies.

-Cos the prince didn't love her(?)

-It's time to go.

It's only a ghost story.

Come on!

No! No.

No.

It's me.

It's Billy.

GRANDMA MUMBLES

Oi, little 'un, what have I told you about drinking out the bottle?

Sorry, Mam.

Well, put it back!

One...

lift...

and reach...

down.

And one...

breathe and stretch...

stretch.

And one...

lift and stretch.

And one...

lift...

and down. And it's one...

Extend.

Reach out.

Lift and breathe...

And one...

lift...

out...

and close. And one...

lift...

-When's the audition, then?

-Tomorrow morning.

-I'll miss you, if you go away.

-Who do you think's better - Fred Astaire or Ginger Rogers?

Billy, d'you not fancy us, like?

I dunno. I've never really thought about it.

If you want, I'll show you my fanny.

Naw, you're all right.

MUSIC: "London Calling" by The Clash

# London calling to the faraway towns

# Now that war is declared and battle come down

# London calling to the underworld

# Come out of the cupboard All you boys and girls

# London calling Now don't look at us

# All that phoney Beatlemania has bitten the dust

# London calling See, we ain't got no swing 'cept for the ring of that truncheon thing

# The ice age is coming The sun's zooming in

# Meltdown expected The wheat is growing thin

# Engines stop running But I have no fear

# Cos London is drowning And I live by the river

# London calling to the imitation zone

# Forget it, brother You can go it alone

# London calling to the zombies of death

# Quit holding out and draw another breath

# London calling and I don't wanna shout

# But while we were talking I saw you noddin' out

# London calling See, we ain't got no highs

# London calling See, we ain't got no swing 'cept for the ring of that truncheon thing

# Except for that one with the yellowy eyes

# The ice age is coming The sun's zooming in

# Engines stop running The wheat is growing thin

# A nuclear error but I have no fear

-# Cos London is drowning... #

-Tony!

-# And I live by the river...#

-Tony, come back!

SIRENS WAIL

# ..I never felt so much a' like... #

RINGING

'Miss, I've got a problem with the audition.'

Hello?

Hello!

Right, this list is for Court 4. Tony Elliot...

George Brunton...

What's the time?

Ten past ten.

Oh, Billy!

Hello.

-Can I help you?

-I was looking...

-They're out.

Sorry.

-Billy.

-Please, Miss...

-Don't!

-What's going on, Billy?

Who the fuck are you?

I think we'd better go inside.

I know this might be difficult for you,

-but today Billy missed a very important audition.

-Audition(?)

For the Royal Ballet School.

-The Royal Ballet(?)

-School. It's where they teach the ballet.

You've got to be jokin', love.

No, I'm perfectly serious.

Have you ANY idea what we're going through?

I've been in a fuckin' cell all night, and you come round here talking shite. ..And YOU!

Fucking ballet?!

..Are you trying to make him a fucking scab for the rest of his life? He's only 11, for fuck's sake!

-You've got to start training young.

-Shut it! ..MY brother is not acting like a twat for your gratification.

-Excuse me, this is not for MY gratification.

-What good's it gonna do him?

What about giving him a childhood?

-I don't want a childhood. I want to be a ballet dancer.

-Anyway, what qualifications have you got?

-I haven't come here to defend myself.

-For all we know, you could be some fucking nutter.

-I think you should calm down, son.

-You say he can dance? Well... ..Come on, then.

-Let's see you fucking dance, then.

-This is ridiculous.

-If you're a fucking ballet dancer, let's be having you!

-Don't you dare!

He's got the chance to dance, now you're telling him not to.

..Dance, you little twat!

MUSIC: "Town Called Malice" by the Jam

No? ..So, piss off! And if you go anywhere near him, I'll smack you one, you middle-class cow!

You know nothing about me, you little shit!

# Better stop dreaming of the quiet life... #

..Piss his wages up the wall?!

# ..Cos those rosy days are few And stop apologising for the things you've never done

# Cos time is short and life is cruel but it's up to us to change This town called Malice

# Rows and rows of disused milk floats stand dying in the dairy yard

# And a hundred lonely housewives clutch empty milk bottles to their hearts

# Hanging out their old love letters on the line to dry

# It's enough to make you stop believing When tears come fast and furious

# In a town called Malice Yeah!

# Ba-ba-ba-baba-ba

# Ba-ba-baba-ba

# Ba-ba-ba-baba-ba

# Ba-ba-baba-ba

# Struggle after struggle

# Year after year

# The atmosphere's a fine blend of ice, I'm almost stone-cold dead In a town called Malice, oh, yeah

# A whole street's belief in Sunday's roast beef

# Gets dashed against the Co-op

# To either cut down on beer or the kids' new gear

# It's a big decision In a town called Malice, oh, yeah. #

INSTRUMENTAL

Agh!

# The ghost of a steam train echoes down my track

# It's at the moment bound for nowhere, just going round and round

# Playground kids and creaking swings, lost laughter in the breeze

# I could go on for hours but I'd sooner put some joy back in this town called Malice, yeah. #

BILLY GROANS ANGRILY

MICHAEL: Billy! Billy, come on!

Hurry up!

GEORGE: Merry Christmas, everybody!

MEN CHANT: # Here we go, here we go, here we go Here we go, here we go

# Here we go, here we go, here we go Here we go, here we go

# Here we go, here we go, here we go Here we go, here we go... #

-Do you think she'll mind?

-Shut it, Billy. She's dead.

PIANO THUNDERS

Well, Merry Christmas, everybody.

Merry Christmas.

Merry Christmas.

DAD SOBS

# Jingle bells, jingle bells Jingle all the way

# Oh, what fun... #

Fucking great Christmas this has been(!)

-Have some.

-Where did you get it?

-My dad's got loads.

-Won't he notice?

-No.

-It tastes like piss.

-You get used to it.

-Maybe you could run away, join a dancing troupe.

-Don't be so stupid.

Well, maybe it's all for the best.

-Eh?

-You won't have to go away.

-My hands are freezing.

Give us them here.

-What are you doing?

-Nothing. Just warming your hands up.

-You're not a poof or owt?

-What gave you that impression?

Aren't my hands cold?

I quite like it.

Just cos I like ballet doesn't mean I'm a poof, you know.

You won't tell anyone, will you?

Come on.

It's fucking freezing in here.

-Here.

-What's this?

-Just put it on.

A tutu.

DRUNKEN CONVERSATION

George, there's somebody in the club.

He's walking away, right... And he's called...Norman.

And round the corner... came this wallaby...

Plie, first.

-What's a plie?

-It's French.

-Why's it French?

-I don't know.

Second...like a princess.

Second. And down.

And first...

Carry on.

Shoulders down. Long neck.

-How do I look?

-Shut up, poof!

-Fuck off!

Second.

And down.

And first...

Down.

First... Fifth.

Jackie! Jackie, man!

Here!

Give us your hand.

THEY LAUGH

Dance!

Dad!

Go home, son.

DOG BARKS

DOORBELL RINGS

Is this a friend of yours, then(?)

-How much is it going to cost?

-A Happy Christmas to you too(!)

-Not as much as you might think. Maybe two grand. But there's a good chance the council...

-Two grand?

-I was talking about the auditions.

-It's just the trip to London. I'll give you the money for the fare.

-I didn't come here to be patronised.

-No-one's trying to patronise you! You're being ridiculous.

-Am I?

-Yes.

Thanks for everything you've done for Billy.

But he is MY son, isn't he?

'I'll handle this myself.'

ROLL CALL >

Aye. Smith.

Smith. Kenneth.

< Is that the lot?

-Fucking hell! Never thought I'd see you down here.

-Times change, eh?

Right, you, name!

Jackie Elliot.

Glad to see you've come to your senses.

Who's a big man now, eh(?)

ENGINE STARTS UP OK, you lot, all aboard the skylark. Look lively!

You can't smoke on here, mate. They're private buses.

CHORUS OF "Scabs!"

Dad! Dad!

Gie's a hand.

Dad! What the fuck are you doing?

Dad, you can't go back. Not now.

-Look at the state of us.

-You can't do this, not after everything we've been through.

-It's for wee Billy. He might be a genius, for all we know.

-Dad, you can't do this.

Dad! Dad!

Tony! He's only 11, for fuck's sake. He's just a fucking little kid.

-I'm sorry. I'm sorry, son.

-Please!

Please!

Please, don't.

We're finished, son. What choice have we got, eh?

-Let's give the boy a fucking chance.

-Please!

Please, don't do this to me, Dad. We'll find the money for him.

What the fuck is he doing, Tony?

It's OK. He's going to be OK. < Just get him out of here, Tony.

Let's go home, Dad.

Dad's right, you know.

Mam would have let you.

GEORGE: All them 50 pences. Here, it was a toss-up between a new punchbag or you!

It's not even enough for the B&B. Youse are dreaming, scrapping round for 50 pences!

You've got to do better than that! I'm going to have a raffle at the Welfare.

-And I'm going to organise a concert.

-Thanks, George.

-TONY: ..She can't even keep the soup kitchen open.

-But George said...

-There's no money left.

Get that through your head, man.

GEORGE: We'll have the raffle.

George, you know there's nothing left. Stop putting ideas in his head, man!

DAD SOBS

Come on, dig deep for the miners.

Is that absolutely necessary? Walk normal, will you?

So, what's it like, like?

What's what like?

London.

I don't know, son. I never made it past Durham.

Have you never been, like?

-Why would I want to go to London?

-It's the capital city.

Well, there's no mines in London.

Christ, is that ALL you think about?

-Billy Elliot. We've come for an audition.

-Oh, you mean William Elliot?

-Yes, William.

-Can you go upstairs, please?

-Up there?

-Yes.

-Thanks.

Is this your first time? Yes.

I've been doing it for two years.

..Hello.

Nerve-racking, isn't it?

Where are you from?

Everington, County Durham.

Durham? Isn't there an amazing cathedral?

I dunno. I've never been.

Up on the box, please.

Right, bend over. Right down.

And come up.

Up. Head down.

..A tiny curvature. ..Head down! How tiny?

It might not be a problem. ..Keep going.

-Right... Jump up, William.

-It's Billy. Billy Elliot.

Two...three...and four.

(Dad!)

(Dad! Dad, for fuck's sake!)

-I've changed my mind.

-Get back in! Don't be so stupid.

And you are?

Billy Elliot from Everington.

-I beg your pardon?

-Billy Elliot.

Ah, yes, of course. Come to the bar, please, Billy.

Left arm on the bar. Feet first.

Arms second.

Demi-plie.

And hold.

Now, Billy, we'd like to see you move to music. Do you have a piece prepared?

CASSETTE PLAYER CLICKS, MUSIC STARTS

LIVELY ORCHESTRAL MUSIC

Hm.

Thank you.

Are you all right?

-What's the matter?

-It was a waste of fucking time.

Don't be upset. It's only a stupid audition.

-It's all right.

-Fuck off!

-There's always next year.

-Fuck off, will you?!

You bent bastard!

What on earth's going on here?

How did it go?

Shit!

Mr Elliot, I'm afraid that mutual respect and self-discipline

are absolute prerequisites for any pupil in this school.

Such displays of violence cannot be tolerated under any circumstances. Do you understand?

We shall have to consider this very seriously and it will be bound to affect our decision.

Yes, well...just a few questions, then.

Billy...

can you tell us why you first became interested in ballet?

I dunno.

I just was.

Well, was there any particular aspect of the ballet which... caught your imagination?

The dancing.

He dances all the time. Every night after school.

Yes, we have a very enthusiastic letter from Mrs...Wilkinson.

And she has told us of your personal circumstances.

Mr Elliot, are YOU a fan of the ballet?

I wouldn't exactly say I was an expert.

You do realise that all pupils must attain the highest standards,

not just in ballet, but in their academic work?

No child can succeed without the 100% support of the family.

You are completely behind Billy...

..are you not?

Yes.

Yes, of course.

Do you want to ask US any questions?

No, not really, no.

Well, in that case, we shall let you know in due course.

< Just one last question.

Can I ask you, Billy, what does it FEEL like when you're dancing?

I dunno.

It sort of feels good.

At the start, it's stiff, and that.

But once I get going, then... I, like, forget everything.

And...

..I sort of disappear.

I sort of disappear.

I can feel a change in my whole body...

like there's fire in my body.

I'm just there...flying...

..like a bird.

Like electricity.

Yeah...

..like electricity.

Have a safe journey home.

Mr Elliot, good luck with the strike.

Toast!

I think you should get yourself a trade, son.

Something useful.

I could have been a professional dancer.

-What happened to the dinosaurs, Miss?

-They were crushed, as well.

The pressure caused the plants and trees to change.

-(That's what must've happened to her.)

-Michael, if you have something to say, say it to the class.

-Sorry.

So, gradually, over hundreds of thousands of years...

Post!

This is it.

-Have you heard anything yet?

-No.

-You'll have no problem, man. Fingers crossed.

DOOR SLAMS SHUT

I got in.

He did it! He fucking did it!

Jackie, have you not heard, man?

We're going back. The strike's over, Jackie. The union caved in yesterday.

I think I'm scared, Dad.

That's OK, son. We're all scared.

If I don't like it, can I still come back?

Are you kidding?

We've let out your room.

-PIANO PLAYS

-..Four, five, six, seven, eight.

And one, two...

three, four...

five, six, seven... Keep going, girls.

..three, four, five...

-Miss...I just came to tell you.

-It's all right, Billy. I heard it from Debbie.

Like...it was just...

Well, you know, just everything.

-I'll miss you, Miss.

-No, you won't.

-I will, honest.

-This is when you go out and find life.

And all those other things.

The best of luck, Billy.

Right, back to the bar, girls.

-..And again, thank you!

-PIANO PLAYS

One, two, three, four...

Debbie, eyes front. ..seven and eight.

And one, two, three, four...

five, six, seven...

-Was she there?

-Yes.

-You'll miss the bus.

-We're off.

-I'll take it.

-Give us that.

-We've no' got time for this.

I'll take it.

-Bye-bye, Billy.

-See ya.

Oi, dancing boy!

-We'll miss the bus, Billy.

-Will you stop being an old fuckin' woman?

See you, then.

ENGINE STARTS UP

-I'll miss ya.

-What? I can't hear you.

BELL RINGS

Dad, come on, we're gonna be late!

Dad!

Come on!

The show's just started.

-MUSIC: "Swan Lake"

-Excuse me.

Can you tell Billy Elliot his family's here?

Sorry, mate. It's all right, Tony.

It's me, Michael.

Remember?

(It's Michael.)

What are you doing here? I wouldn't have missed it for the world.

MUSIC BUILDS

-Billy, your family are here.

-Thanks.

MUSIC: "Ride A White Swan" by T Rex

# Ride it on out like a bird in the sky ways

# Ride it on out like you were a bird

# Fly it all out like an eagle in a sunbeam

# Ride it on out like you were a bird

# Wear a tall hat like a druid in the old days

# Wear a tall hat and a tattooed gown

# Ride a white swan like the people of the Beltane

# Wear your hair long, babe, you can't go wrong

# Da-da-di-di-da da-da-di-di-da... #

MUSIC: "I Believe" by Stephen Gately

# If I believe that I could do anything

# Could I spread my wings and say goodbye?

# So many people told me I couldn't win

# But look at me now Here I am in heaven's sky

# And sometimes I say a prayer Wishing that you could be here with me

# Cos I believe I believe in love

# It's the best of everything

# I believe in hope And the changes it can bring

# If you believe

# Then nothing can stand in your way

# Just say

# It's a fact of life that we're all in the game

# But it's still your call

# But we all play it

# Sometimes we win Sometimes we fall

# But that's no reason just to give it up

# Cos after all

# If you can't choose what to be

# You can choose what to dream

# And I believe

# Oh, yeah, I believe

# If you can't choose what to be

# You can choose what to dream

# And I believe

# I believe in love

# It's the best of everything

# I believe in love

# And the changes it can bring

# If you believe Nothing can stand in your way

# Just say

# I believe... #