-(suspenseful music playing) -(spectators chattering) (typewriter keys clacking) (rousing music playing) (typewriter keys clacking) (soft whimsical music playing) You're off, then?

Yes.

I, uh, we did agree.

It's Henley.

They're gonna select the Olympic team.

Uh, and I'm bang up to date.

Mr. Bushnell, you are never anything other than up to date.

I'm merely lamenting that your inclination does not match your diligence and that you do not take as much pleasure from your employment as you do from rowing your boats.

I scull them.

I beg your pardon?

I'm a sculler, sir.

A rower's a bloke who has one oar, I have both, so...

I'm really not that interested, Mr. Bushnell.

And nor is anyone else, if you read today's Daily Mail.

A rather perceptive editorial.

Um, I'll make my time up, of course, sir.

-Hawkins: You what?

-Uh, in lieu.

You can rest assured.

Only, uh, I should be heading off.

(lively music playing) Let's just hope you're selected now.

-speaker: For goodness' sake.

-Bert Bushnell: Sorry.

(music continues) What time do you call this?

Margaret: Bert!

(pants) I thought I'd miss you.

Mr. Bushnell, I just wanted to wish you luck.

Go.

(chuckles) I've got to get back anyway.

Bert: Yeah.

I, um...

Thanks for coming, though.

I appreciate it.

(music continues) Do your best.

John Bushnell: She finished at secretarial college, then?

Margaret?

Is that how come I'm seeing so much of her?

You aren't seeing so much of her.

She only stopped off to wish me luck.

Yeah, well, you're gonna need it by the time we get there.

That isn't her fault.

That's Hawkins keeping me in till the last bloody second.

God.

You don't know what I'd give to leave him, Dad, come and work with you.

Yeah, well, you can't.

You know that.

Clement Attlee: Look at it.

It's a complete wasteland still.

Nobody would be the least surprised if we called it off.

We have no money, we have no resources.

Everything is rationed.

But we've already agreed.

What Lord Aberdare means, sir, is that we gave our word to the International Olympic Committee.

We said, unequivocally, that we could still stage the games.

-Why?

-Because the bloody Yanks were after it.

-What?

-Lord Burghley: They said they could step in to help us out.

Rather as they had done in the war.

Clement: Well?

I...

I wasn't sure if you wanted me to say anything, sir.

This is Harold Wilson.

He's my secretary for overseas trade and somewhat of your persuasion.

Tell me again.

Tourism, sir.

We will never have a better opportunity to develop our tourist trade than this.

We need hard currency to stimulate the economy.

And I firmly believe that the 1948 Games could bring that in.

-(bell tolling) -(clock ticking) The treasury is bare.

Remember that.

(lively music playing) (exhales) announcer (over PA): Passing the mile signal, Winstone and Burnell of Kingston and Leander.

Just maintaining their lead ahead of... (announcer continues indistinctly) (spectators clapping) (music continues) (announcer speaking indistinctly) Bert, where have you been?

Bert: Albert, don't you start, please.

Albert: Right, well, I won't, then.

She's all ready.

Me and Frank have got her perfect.

You just get limbered up for your big moment.

No pressure, obviously.

announcer: The result of the final of the Double Sculls Challenge Cup... (announcer continues indistinctly) Richard Winstone: I'm sorry, Richard.

announcer: ...of the Belgian Rowing Federations beat RF Winstone and RD Burnell of Kingston Rowing Club -and Leander Club by two lengths.

-(Richard Winstone coughing) Time, seven minutes, fifty-four seconds.

Richard.

(Richard Winstone panting) Father.

Bad luck, old boy.

(Richard Winstone coughing) Are you alright?

Not really.

It was a damn fine effort, that's the proof.

You should shower.

-I'll buy you a drink.

-Richard Winstone: Cheers.

announcer: ...BHT Bushnell of Maidenhead Rowing Club... Jack Beresford: Gentlemen.

Beresford.

Richard, this is-- Jack Beresford, of course.

It's an honor.

And congratulations.

I gather you're to, uh, oversee the training of all the British Olympics?

Indeed, a great honor.

As well as chairing our final selection panel.

Ah.

Right.

Well, I'm sorry Dick and I won't be featuring in your deliberations.

We've been rather off-color all summer.

I should shower.

That's the thing, though, Mr. Burnell.

I'm looking for the best oarsmen, not necessarily any existing formation.

I believe that our greatest chance of winning medals will come not by sticking with what is familiar, but rather by trying out one or two new formations.

Placing the best with the best, you see?

(announcer speaking indistinctly) (sighs deeply) (announcer speaking indistinctly) (Bert grunts) (indistinct yelling) (announcer speaking indistinctly) (Bert grunting) (spectators clapping) announcer: The results of the Diamond Challenge Sculls, MT Wood of Australia beat BHT Bushnell of Maidenhead Rowing Club.

Mervyn Wood: Great race, mate.

Jeez.

The way you went off, I thought you'd be in the bar before I was halfway down.

(Bert panting) See you back here in five or six weeks, eh?

(panting) John: It's unbelievable.

Suddenly discovering reverse gear in an Olympic trial.

And that was Margaret's fault, was it?

You know, she was waiting for him, after work, even after he promised he'd stop seeing her.

I don't remember that.

That's because I never said it.

Incredible.

He's been looking to have a go at her ever since he picked me up.

Oh, and I wonder why.

Stop it, both of you, for goodness' sake.

What's done is done.

He, he can call her for half an hour, surely.

He knows he can't stay out all night.

He's got work in the morning.

(radio static) (operatic singing on stereo) (child crying) Got it.

It was by the oven.

You see, I do not throw everything out.

I do not have a mania for cleaning.

(Richard Burnell chuckles) I'll see you later.

(crying continues) (engine revving) -Father.

-Richard.

How lovely.

I was just passing by.

Oh, sorry, are you rushing?

Do you mind?

I, um, forgot my copy.

The editor's screaming blue murder.

Charles Burnell: Of course.

They said at your office you were frantic.

So you weren't just passing by, then?

You were looking for me?

I wondered if you'd had any further thoughts on all that chopping and changing Beresford was mentioning.

You know, I was thinking on the way over, "Poor old Winstone.

"If only he knew he might be about to be sacrificed at the altar of modern sport."

(light dramatic music playing) Yeah, I know.

I'm a relic, Richard.

Time moves on.

I'm well aware of that.

(sighs) Oh, take no notice of me, old boy.

I was merely... interested.

And, of course, you must make your own decision.

You're the one who's got to live with it, after all.

(sighs) Bert: I was certain I'd get a letter in the post today.

Bert, it's fine.

It's all gonna be fine.

You'll hear soon enough.

They can't not pick me, even though Henley was...

I'm the fastest single we've got.

I should get cracking.

Wait.

I brought you something.

-Oh.

-Help you with your training.

(chuckles) -Oh.

-It's tripe and onions.

I've made it into a sandwich.

Bert: Can you do that?

Aye.

As long as you squeeze the sides together.

(gentle music playing) -Bert: Thank you.

-(Margaret chuckles) It's the stuff of champions.

(music swells) (typewriter keys clacking) (brakes squeak) Bert: Alright, Albert?

Five medals.

Five Olympic medals.

Eh?

Albert: Beresford.

Jack Beresford?

He's in there?

What did I just say?

Bert: Here you are.

Hold that.

(patrons chattering faintly) You're in.

You've been selected for Great Britain's Olympic Rowing Team.

Yes.

Yes.

I want you to row in the double sculls.

-What?

-The committee is selecting you, on my recommendation, to row in the double sculls competition.

But I'm a single.

There's no one better than me.

Merv Wood beat you just the other day.

I beat him out in the Argentine.

I-- Look, look, it's what I've trained for, Mr. Beresford, all this time.

Tony Rowe will be our single scull.

He has that seat.

If you wish to compete in the Olympic Games, you must do so in the double sculls.

Before you do that, Mr. Bushnell, let me say my piece, if I may.

You might win the single.

-Then-- -Jack Beresford: However, you might lose.

And I don't like to lose.

Hmm.

I know that.

I won Olympic medals in Antwerp, Paris, Amsterdam, Los Angeles, and Berlin.

But the greatest of these, Bert, was in Berlin, in front of Hitler himself, overcoming a German crew and winning the gold.

That was double sculls.

That was the last Olympics.

We have a reputation to maintain in that event, and I believe we can maintain it.

What, in five weeks?

Jack Beresford: In five weeks.

I can put together a crew that will be very fast, very fast indeed, and which will win the gold medal for Great Britain.

Now, I want you to be one half of that crew.

I want it.

The question is, do you?

(light suspenseful music playing) Who with?

Who'd my partner be?

I've arranged for you to meet him this evening.

(music continues) doorman: Excuse me, sir.

Are you a member?

I beg your pardon?

doorman: Of Leander?

Uh, no, I'm in the Great Britain squad.

I'm here for training.

I understand, sir.

However, if you're not a member of the club itself, I can't grant you access to the club rooms.

But I've gotta get my kit on.

doorman: Of course.

And there is direct access to the changing rooms around the back of the building.

Yeah.

(Bert sighs) Hello.

Richard Burnell.

-You're?

-Bert Bushnell.

I saw you win the Wingfield Sculls last year.

I covered it, actually.

Yeah, I heard that.

You write for The Times, don't you?

Yeah.

I don't read it myself.

Well, it's just the rowing.

I actually work for the British Council.

Bert: Oh.

Anyway, it was a terrific effort.

I'm a good sculler.

How long have you been doing it?

Oh, uh, not long, really.

It was always eights for me.

Couldn't find a crew after the war, so...

I mean, I'd always done a bit, just, you know, not competitively.

Sounds like you weren't that competitive when you went out with Dick Winstone.

Then again, you got rid of him, didn't you?

Which shows you've got some ambition, I suppose.

Excuse me.

Winstone is a good man.

And I most certainly did not get rid of him.

I don't care whether he fell on his sword or you stuck it right between his shoulder blades.

All I care about is whether a bloke can scull or not.

-Well, I can.

-(door opens) Good.

Excellent.

You've met.

We'll get straight to it, then, shall we?

We'll take it down to Hambleden and back.

Nothing too strenuous too soon.

Alright?

What are you doing?

I'm taking my socks off.

Is that alright?

Richard Burnell: Well, you might get blisters.

I don't.

And I can feel how the boat's running.

(gentle music playing) Alright, lads, let's get going.

-(Bert sighs) -Richard Burnell: What are you happy with?

Bert: What?

Richard Burnell: Rate.

Don't need to go mad.

No.

I tell you what, though... Dickie.

Can I call you Dickie?

It seems to suit you.

Why don't we give it a quick burst to start off with, eh?

Blow the cobwebs away.

Fine.

-You call it.

-Yeah, 'course.

Right.

(Bert grunts) Now.

Now.

Now.

Bloody hell.

Bert: Now.

Now.

Now.

(both grunting) (grunting continues) (grunting continues) (both panting) There you go.

Not too bad.

Take it back, yes?

What?

Jack said there and back.

(gentle music playing) (brakes squeak) (grunting continues) No.

Wait!

Wait!

(grunting continues) (Richard and Bert panting) What the bloody hell was that all about?

You don't win if you don't pull together.

It's that simple.

Now, grow up!

Both of you.

Back here tomorrow morning, 6:30.

(groans) On the question of inspiring the nation, one or two gold medals?

Lift the spirits in these somewhat difficult times, hmm?

Well, we're very hopeful in sailing.

Is that it?

Lord Burghley: Well, and rowing too.

And we think we've got a fair chance in the etching.

Olympic Etching?

Poetry, possibly too.

Gentlemen, I'm sorry, I...

I didn't realize there were Olympic competitions in such things.

Oh, yes.

We did check the rules.

Lord Burghley: The thing is, sir, we have had to slim down the scale of some aspects of the games, necessarily, because of the cost.

So we're looking to plump out the schedule in other areas.

And you're sure people will go?

Absolutely.

(Bert and Richard pant) Bert: Come on.

(Bert and Richard grunting) Jack Beresford: The speed's there.

I know the speed's there.

But there's no finesse.

You're not recovering smoothly and the reissue's awful, never mind the check you're-- It's our second outing, Jack.

And your first race is in five weeks.

-The boat's-- -The boat's fine.

Jack Beresford: It's your rhythm.

You need more time on the water, let some smoothness in.

Long, slow paddles any chance you get.

I'll see you back here tonight.

Bert: It needs re-rigging.

No, it doesn't.

Bert, the boat is the best, alright?

I saw to that.

And if we start fiddling with it at this late stage, you know what happens.

It's like a golfer changing his swing on the eve of a competition.

It always turns out badly.

So let's just do what Jack says and spend some extra time on the water.

No, not that.

We-- That's the worst idea.

We're too tired after Henley.

I know I am.

Well, we have to do something.

We work on our technique.

Jack's right.

It's a mess.

Only that's you, especially the reissue.

You gotta cock your wrist more, like a dog raising its paw.

That's what I was always taught.

Richard Burnell: By whom?

Someone who coached me for a while.

Dan Cordery.

So, he's a professional.

-So what?

-We're amateurs.

We like it that way.

Dickie...

I have never taken a penny for getting in a boat, -that's an amateur.

-(Richard scoffs) Nothing else matters.

And after that, it's all about winning, by any means possible.

See, you think differently, don't you?

Amateur, to you, it's a bloke who loves his sport and who uses nothing to gain advantage over his competitors except his own determination and those gifts -God has happened to bestow upon him.

-Richard Burnell: Hmm.

Hmm.

The only problem with that, Dickie, "six-foot, four-inch tall" Dickie, "bred from the best stock there is in England" Dickie, with your Eton and your Oxford education and your Times newspaper job, Dickie, the only problem with that is that when God was doling out them gifts and setting up the natural order of things... he wasn't always that even-handed, was he?

(Bert exhales) Clement: I read in this report there's still no floor for the basketball court, that the British team can't afford a kit.

-Dealt with.

-(Lord Burghley clears throat) Yes, we have, as Lord Aberdare points out, already solved those particular problems.

Have you?

And how have you funded that, precisely?

(Lord Aberdare sighs) The Finns are giving us the timber for the basketball court free and gratis.

Lord Aberdare: Cooper's, the outfitters, have agreed to provide every British male competitor with a free pair of Y-fronts.

They'll wear shorts as well?

Harold, we're not staging a bloody nude revue, man.

Of course, they'll wear shorts.

They will have to supply those themselves, however.

I'm afraid the budget didn't quite stretch to that.

-Oh, damn.

My back.

-(child crying) Do you want a flag on them?

-What?

-The shorts.

It doesn't say.

It just gives the general measurements.

(Richard sighs) Frankly, the way I feel, I think you might be wasting your time.

Is it really bad?

(sighs deeply) It's the starts.

Trying to blitz it, somewhere near 40, 41.

-I'm not used to it.

-Tell Bert.

Richard Burnell: I have told him, but he reckons we'll need to be doing -at least that.

-No.

Tell him it's hurting you.

Oh.

No flag.

Thank you.

They look wonderful.

They are terrific, they are.

Terry toweling, so they won't slip.

Oh, good thinking.

Always gotta look for the edge.

Ohh.

I've got something else for you.

Eh?

Here.

Oh, Mum.

Oh, yeah, this is perfect.

I mean, my old one's too warm in this sunshine.

And they reckon it's gonna be red hot right across the competition.

Well, you were alright in Argentina.

I wasn't pulling behind Dickie then, was I?

Anyway, I'll be the best-dressed bloke in the final.

Oh.

Oh, I'll get to the final, Mum, don't you worry.

You won't if you stay out -till God knows what hour every night.

-John.

You're supposed to be home, watered, in bed by 9:30.

-Well, I-- -You've been down The Gaumont again, I know!

It's not much after half past now.

It's after it!

There.

You may as well have that.

If you're up.

It's bread.

You can have a dripping sandwich.

Lena Bushnell: Where's it from?

We've had our ration this week.

Yeah, I...

It's extra.

Lena: You've been to see Lewis.

He's a crook, John.

He made all of his money on the black market, and we're not gonna help him get any richer now.

-Mum.

-No, Lena.

There's a right way to behave in life and there is a wrong way, and it matters.

Bert: Mum.

Mum.

-(dog barking) -Next door's dog?

(dog grunts) -Dad?

-Yep.

(classical music playing) announcer (on screen): The metropolis becomes cosmopolis.

For the Olympiad, the world's athletes are pouring towards Wembley.

Among them, the American swimmers.

More from America, the United States women contingent arriving at Southampton.

And they're not just athletic, but good-looking too.

-(music continues) -Uh, thank you, Wilson.

(Clement sighs) So... we have them here, anyway.

Absolutely.

Clement: Uh, what about Wembley Stadium?

Track's down, scoreboard's up.

And we've found somewhere to hide the pigeons for the opening ceremony.

So they won't have to be taken over to the stadium until the actual afternoon of the event.

No more hanging around all day in the sunshine.

(Lord Burghley clears throat) What?

We've, uh, had a bit of a hiccup when we had the rehearsal yesterday.

What happened?

Lord Burghley: When we, um, dropped the lids to release them, several hundred of the birds had, um... had cooked, sir.

Good God.

Good God, indeed.

We are blinking in the light of a new dawn, Lord Burghley.

We are not engaged in the wholesale slaughter of innocent avians.

No, sir.

And what about, ahem, poetry?

Etching, sculpture?

Have we shifted any tickets there?

Yes, sir, we have.

How many?

So far?

Yes.

Nineteen and a half thousand.

(whimsical music playing) (Bert and Richard groaning) (groaning continues) (groans sharply) Bert: What's up?

Nothing.

It's a... twinge, that's all.

It's going.

It's going already.

Hey, Bert.

Over here.

Ha!

Jack!

Jack Kelly.

Oh, come on.

-As long as you're-- -I'm fine.

I told you, it's gone.

Beresford (on bullhorn): Oi, Mr. Kelly.

They are training.

As you should be, actually.

(chuckles) -Bert: Good to see you.

-Jack Kelly: You too.

-How are you?

-Bert: Yeah, good.

-It's good to be here.

-This is, uh, Dickie Burnell.

He's...

Your partner, yeah.

I heard you'd changed your mind about taking me on in the singles.

Richard Burnell: Pleased to meet you.

Welcome.

Jack Kelly: Ah, great to be here.

Where are you staying?

I don't know exactly.

We're getting billeted.

Bert.

Bert.

(mouths) Anyway, I reckon you'll be alright.

-We should get going.

-Richard Burnell: Yeah.

Bert: Good to see you, Jack.

-Jack Kelly: Thank you.

-Bert: Good luck, Jack.

-Nice to meet you.

-Nice to meet you.

-Best of luck.

-You too.

(Richard groans) Bert: Here, Dickie.

Give it a wipe.

(Richard groans sharply) Right.

Now, tell us the truth.

Is it going to torpedo us?

No.

No.

It...

I've had it before.

It eases off after a day or two.

It's painful, but it won't affect the competition.

It won't make any difference at the competition.

-You're getting worse.

-Bert: What are you on about?

We were miles quicker to the barrier.

Jack Beresford: Through brute force, you were.

So you were knackered on the way back, which means you finished two seconds slower than last week, with a rating of four strokes higher.

If you two don't discover some kind of rhythm, you'll do well to get beyond the first round.

Except we know the answer.

Long, slow-- No, we can't paddle through it.

Bert's right, Jack.

We haven't the energy.

Fine.

Then solve it your own way, but solve it.

(sighs) -It's the boat.

-(sighs) No, look, Dickie, please.

Just, just listen to me.

-A bad workman always-- -Yeah, I know that, I know that.

But we're both struggling, aren't we?

And it isn't getting any better.

It's the reason your back's knackered.

My back is knackered because of the ludicrous numbers of starts -you've put us through.

-The starts are only a problem because that's when the rigging gets the most hammering.

Yeah, except I've been sculling with it like that for the past eight months.

With a bloke who was 14 stone.

I'm ten and a half.

I'm too high out of the water, which means you're beating up the sculls to get through the stroke, which you can because you're so strong, but at the cost of wrecking your back.

Well, the truth is if we dropped the work by half an inch, you'd be taking the right amount of strain and we'd increase the span on the stroke.

Look, I'll do it.

-What?

-Bert: I'm saying.

I was thinking about it, you know, it, it occurred.

What, that I don't know how to do a re-rig?

Bert: I don't know.

Captain of boats at Eton, blue at Oxford.

I assume they have people.

I can rig my own boat.

The only reason I'm not doing this one is because it doesn't need doing.

And if we start messing around with it now we're gonna ruin everything.

You know, if it isn't running properly, might I suggest that rather than blaming the silver spoon you forever see in my mouth, you take a good look at the chip on your own shoulder and ask yourself, honestly, whether it and blind ambition are really enough in themselves to make a man a good oarsman, or might he require one or two other attributes as well, like skill?

(pensive music playing) (engine revving) (bell rings) (music continues) (dramatic music playing) (sighs) (music continues) John: Where are you going?

Nowhere.

Just for a walk.

I won't be long.

Yeah.

And we know who with, don't we?

(gentle music playing) (door creaks) It makes sense.

And I apologize... for what I said to you.

No one likes to be found out.

No.

(gentle music swells) (lively music playing) (both grunting) (music continues) Thank you, gentlemen.

Mr. Bushnell, I-- John: Margaret, I, uh, I didn't mean to surprise you, but I remembered Bert said you come home for your lunch.

I need to talk to you... on a matter of some urgency.

What about this, uh, rationing business?

Well, apparently a couple of our weightlifters passed out yesterday.

One egg a week, you see, it's simply not enough.

Lord Aberdare: It's the same with the distance runners.

They say a shilling's worth of meat a week, they just can't train on it.

Well, that's how it's going to remain.

If our Olympians can manage, then so can we.

But they're not managing.

That's a chop in the middle.

Barnsley chop.

You get double meat on one of them.

That's very kind of you.

Except, am I the only one who's actually-- all: We've had ours.

Albert: Yeah, sorry.

There was some confusion about what time tea was actually served, so we got stuck in before you arrived.

And, and aren't they delicious?

-Uh... -Frank: Mm, those Barnsley chops.

Albert: So you just enjoy yourself, Mr. Kelly.

You're our guest.

And we want you to go back to America with good memories.

The king and the rowin' and... that chop.

We're happy to watch.

Great oarsman such as yourself.

That is magnificent.

(onlookers sigh happily) (train whistle blows) (gentle piano music playing) (person yells indistinctly) John: Oh.

Bert: Alright, Dad?

Bert?

Bert: Need some Fleetwax.

You got any?

Dickie says if we're on the water that much, the boat could use an extra coat.

Well, he's right.

It should.

I'll get you some.

How'd it go today?

Yeah, good.

Quicker today than we were at lunchtime, so...

Still a way to go, though.

Well, the Danes are the ones to watch, but the Dutch-- Yeah, yeah, yeah, we know, Dad.

We've done our homework, so don't worry.

Oh.

Uh, and I'll be, I'll be out by the time you get home.

But I'll be back by 9:00.

I promise.

She ain't there.

What?

John: You're goin' over to Margaret's, aren't you?

Yeah.

And I'm saying I'll be back by 9:00.

Yeah, and I'm sayin' to you... she isn't there.

She's, uh, she's gone back to her mum's.

She's taken the train to Dumfries.

What are you on about, her mum's?

She... She said she'd meet me at The Gaumont.

How do you know?

(pensive music playing) -You told her to leave.

-John: I did no such thing.

-You forced her.

-I did not.

She accepted it, you know.

She appreciated you need a clear run now.

No distractions whatsoever.

(music continues) I'd say shame on you, but you don't know the meaning of the word.

Rosalind Burnell: You don't have to go into digs.

It's easier.

I can focus.

Not sure I'd be much company for a few days anyway.

Rosalind: (chuckles) Hmm.

(gentle music playing) (Richard sighs) (music continues) (car door closes) (car engine revving) (telephone ringing) Which line does the Mexican diving team need to take for the Empire Pool?

Metropolitan.

Can anyone speak?

What do they speak in the Lebanon?

Hello.

Yes.

Uh... Oh, just a second.

Um, Matt Busby?

Something to do with a soccer team?

Right.

Mr. Busby, good afternoon.

Yes, I see.

-No.

No, no.

-(telephone ringing) I can appreciate that.

-Lord Aberdare: Hello.

Uh, yes.

-I'll sort it out straightaway.

Uh, two dozen footballs to Enfield, please, straightaway.

Lord Aberdare: Yes, of course, of course.

I'll get onto that straightaway.

-(overlapping chatter) -(telephones ringing) (lively music playing) Charles: Richard.

(gasps softly) Father?

-I, uh... -I thought you wouldn't mind.

No.

Of course.

You're welcome.

(panting) Charles: Been far?

Five miles.

On top of your work on the water?

Richard Burnell: It's fine.

We go at a slow pace.

It, uh, oxygenates the muscles apparently.

Long and slow.

It's something Bert picked up in the Argentine.

Ah, overseas technique.

They produce some terrific oarsmen.

Absolutely.

I wasn't...

If you're gonna go with that sort of approach, then-- What sort of approach?

(sighs) Here.

I brought you something.

Single malt.

Help you relax.

(Richard chuckles) Thank you.

It's terrific.

Charles: You are allowed the odd nip, then, are you, on this regime of yours?

You're a Burnell.

That's all the impetus you need.

(pats arm) (door opens) Let battle commence.

(door closes) Good night, sir.

(telephone rings) (Lord Burghley sighs) Burghley.

Oh, Prime Minister.

-(sighs) -(Lord Burghley clears throat) Right.

I see.

Well, good night, then, sir.

Mr. Attlee.

Yeah, I gathered.

He's at the Savoy Grill, there with Wilson, having to wait for a table, apparently.

Place is, place is packed with foreigners.

Well, he's delighted.

Wanted to say, "Well done."

(lively music playing) We're doing it, Clarence, just about.

The world has come to London and... we're bloody well doing it.

(both laugh) (music continues) Mrs. Bushnell?

Mm-hmm.

I'm Richard Burnell.

Oh.

I, uh...

I need to talk to Bert about tomorrow.

Oh, of course.

Come in.

He's gone out.

Nerves.

He'll be walkin' around somewhere.

Shouldn't be long, I imagine.

Why don't you come in, anyway, have a cuppa, now you're here?

(spoon clinking) What's the problem?

Excuse me?

John: You're all over the shop.

What is it?

-It's nothing.

I-- -John: Come on.

You've got something on your mind.

That's why you're here, isn't it?

I'm someone you don't know very well you can talk to without it bein' embarrassin', so...

I'm scared we won't win.

I mean, I...

I've never thought that before because I want to, you know, so much.

Only, suddenly, this evening, when I was in my digs, I-- It's not Bert.

It's me.

I just thought...

I'm not sure I'm quick enough.

You know, I'm really not-- Shh.

You don't say that again, alright?

You told me and I heard you.

I mean, that's it, alright?

Because you are gonna win.

You know why?

Because you deserve to.

You know why you deserve to?

Because you're here now panickin' and worryin'.

-I just-- -Who doesn't wanna win gold at the Olympics?

Eh?

Every oarsman does.

It's the pinnacle.

(sighs) Yeah, I wanted one.

But I, I, I didn't know you rowed.

Right.

You come with me.

(soft dramatic music playing) (door closes) (music continues) (gentle music playing) I won three Coat and Badges scullin'.

I was good.

But it was always a gold medal I wanted, Olympic... ever since I was a kid.

But soon as I started up the boat yard, that was that.

I lost my amateur status.

Yeah, I could have waited, I could have-- To get the boat yard goin'.

I could have given myself the ultimate test, but I didn't because...

I got the fear too.

You know, "What if I'm not good enough?"

Everyone gets it.

Question is... what do you do with it?

You know, I walked away, told myself I could have won if, you know, if the rules for amateurs hadn't been so tough.

(uplifting music playing) Walked away.

But you're gonna get in the boat.

I can see you are, even feelin' how you do now.

And because of that, you're gonna win, Dickie Burnell.

(footsteps approaching) Dickie.

Anyway, I should, uh... We've said all we need to, eh?

I'll leave you to it.

Hmm.

(footsteps receding) What did he mean?

You've said all you need to say?

Richard Burnell: I came looking for you.

Your father invited me to stay for a cup of tea.

-Oh.

-Richard Burnell: We had a good chat.

He said he's not going to watch until the final.

No.

He never does.

Says, "There's only one race which matters, so why watch the others?"

That's a fair point.

Bert: Hmm.

(typewriter keys clacking) official: Great Britain has drawn the Bucks station, Italy on center, and France on Berkshire.

-(applause) -(indistinct chatter) Jack Beresford: Good draw, lads.

Italy and France.

Put down a marker, eh?

(indistinct chatter) (soft dramatic music playing) Richard Burnell: We're gonna lose, Bert.

Nah, not against these.

Don't worry, that's just the jitters.

-Come on!

-No.

(music continues) We're gonna make sure we lose.

What are you on about we're gonna...

The draw doesn't favor us.

If we win, we'll get the Danes too soon.

If we come second, we'll be in the repechage.

Win that and we still carry on through the competition, but we'll be on the other side of the draw to the Danes.

We won't meet them until the final.

If we win the repechage, what if-- We will win it.

(announcer speaking indistinctly) It's still a risk, it's-- Well, of course, it's a risk, but it's one worth taking.

-You know that.

-(clears throat) (spectators cheering) (suspenseful music playing) Trust me, Bert.

Please.

Jack Beresford: What the hell happened there?

Came out the blocks like, argh!

It was beautiful.

And then, all of a sudden, it was like someone threw an anchor over the side.

I've got a bit of cramp.

-Jack Beresford: What?

-Bert: My leg's cramped up.

-Oh, no.

-Bert: I'm not poorly.

It was just temporary.

-I'm certain.

-Richard Burnell: It's alright, Jack.

We hung onto second.

We'll be in the repechage.

-Ha!

-What?

It'll be fine.

We'll, we'll win the repechage.

Against the Dutch?

No, hang on.

They're European champions.

-That isn't right.

-They had a disaster.

-Richard Burnell: What?

-Bow caught a massive crab and they never got their rhythm back.

Just made second.

So it's them and you and, moments ago, Argentina.

Richard Burnell: Argentina?

What happened?

God knows.

Somebody said that they did it deliberately to avoid the Danes in the semis.

-(Bert sighs) -I know.

Apparently the coach punched the bloke who suggested it.

I don't blame him.

It's the Olympics, for God's sake.

The point is, boys, the repechage will be no procession.

If you don't win that, there are no more second chances, you're out.

(suspenseful music playing) (all grunting) (spectators cheering) -spectator: Go, Burnell.

-(cheering continues) (grunting continues) John: The Dutch are goin'.

Breathe it in, Dickie.

They're goin'.

The Dutch are goin'.

I don't wanna know.

(operatic singing on stereo) John: Go on, son.

Come on.

Breathe it in, Dickie.

Go on!

Go on!

(grunting) More!

More!

Yes!

(rowers groaning) Keep going.

Keep going.

-spectator: Go faster!

-Come on!

(symphonic music playing) Bury 'em.

Bury 'em, Dickie.

(music continues) John: Yes, go on.

Go on!

Go on!

(announcer speaking indistinctly) (cheering) (music continues) (cheering continues) (laughs) They made it.

They're through.

-(operatic singing on stereo) -In the semis.

I say they're through to the semis.

I don't care.

(singing continues) (turns up volume) (singing continues) (inhales deeply) (indistinct chatter) Charles: Richard.

Well done.

Thank you.

I was hoping I'd see you.

Let me take you for some supper.

Richard Burnell: No.

Thank you.

I'm going out with Bert.

Charles: Ah.

Good idea.

Let off a bit of steam together.

(chuckles) Well...

I'll leave you to it, then.

I thought you were terrific today.

Thank you.

Really dominated.

Not sure about that showboating at the end, but, um...

Sorry?

Charles: You'd won, Richard.

It was clear long before you'd crossed the finishing line.

There really wasn't any need to humiliate your opponents quite so thoroughly.

(Charles scoffs) I'm being churlish.

It was a magnificent row.

(pensive music playing) All I mean is... it's a gentleman's sport, Richard.

It would be a shame to forget that.

(music continues) (door closes) How'd you get on?

Won.

Good.

(music continues) Says here the Belgians' time from their first round nearly broke the course record.

They're looking very quick indeed.

Albert: Flippin' heck.

He'll be here in a minute.

Frank: We could always pretend-- No, we can't.

He made a special point, "I'll be there at 7:30.

Don't all start without me this time."

-(door opens) -Jack Kelly: I'm back.

Hello again.

Guess who's through to his semifinal?

(train horn blows) It's spam and salad.

That's all we've got.

And the spam's disgustin'.

Potatoes aren't that good.

Oh, I see.

In which case, maybe all this stuff that gets flown in from LA could be of use.

I've got 35 sirloin steaks, four bags of rice, two bunches of bananas, and three lemon cheesecakes.

Now, the steaks will keep as long as you ice 'em for a day or two.

The cheesecakes, they gotta go.

And 'cause of that, I hope you don't mind I've, uh, invited some friends around.

Hey, fellas.

Fellas.

(upbeat music playing) Albert: Hello, Bert.

Albert.

(indistinct chatter) Hi.

guest: What a spread out there.

Just marvelous.

(indistinct chatter) Oh, was an effort today, wasn't it?

More than I thought it'd be.

Think the occasion, that saps you a bit and all.

Either way, I certainly felt it in the end.

Did you?

(indistinct chatter) Legs are like lead.

Alright, well... that's alright.

We've got enough in the tank, as long as we don't waste anything in the semi.

There's a way we can win it, Dickie, where we keep a bit back.

I've worked it out.

Belgium will get away fastest, except they'll drop off about 750.

Be the Yanks we need to keep an eye on.

And I know with them, they don't race.

It's even splits all the way, I've looked at their times.

So all we gotta do is pick up their rate at the start, sit with them to 1,500, and then crank it up in the last five.

Thirty-eight, thirty-nine, that'll do it.

They won't be able to respond.

They haven't got the speed.

Which means we'll win it and we'll have something left for the final.

As long as they haven't got the speed.

As long as they haven't been holding something back.

I'm right.

I know I am.

Come on.

I trusted you first round, eh?

It's my turn now.

Besides, we're too tired for anything else.

Cathy: Hi.

Hi, Roger.

I'm Cathy.

Roger: Hi, Cathy.

(indistinct chatter) (gentle piano music playing) Jack Kelly: She won a gold in the discus this very afternoon.

She's apparently a, uh, concert pianist, attended the Paris Conservatoire.

Micheline Ostermeyer.

(gentle piano music playing) She can knock out a tune, can't she, on the old Joanna?

(music continues) Here, um, have you got any change?

-What?

-For the phone box.

Oh.

-How much do you need?

-How much you got?

(music continues) (horn honks) (telephone ringing) -Hello.

-Bert (on phone): Margaret.

Uh, it's me, it's Bert.

Oh, right.

Bert: I wanted to ring, uh, and apologize for not getting in touch sooner.

Apologize?

Well, I just assumed you were busy with your training.

Bert: No.

No, no.

I was upset you'd let my dad persuade you to leave and-- Point is I should've called and I didn't.

But then, just now, I was watching this discus thrower, and she was amazing.

(over phone) I thought of you straightaway.

And it hit me, whenever I'm anywhere where, I don't know, where I feel inspired, you know, you always come into my head.

(gentle music playing) And I think I must love ya.

I really must.

You got that from watching a discus thrower?

Bert: Yeah.

I know.

It's complicated.

The thing is, I, I do.

(music continues) Well... you're silly.

You're silly 'cause if you were upset you should have called me.

And you're silly 'cause your dad was right.

(over phone) You did need to concentrate.

What?

Margaret: He never persuaded me, Bert.

I left because I thought it was for the best.

And you're through to the semifinal now, which is all that matters.

And that you love me, that's quite good too.

It's mutual, by the way.

(gentle music playing) (line beeping) Margaret, uh, I've got no more money.

I miss ya.

I wish you were here.

(line beeping steadily) (receiver clatters) (train whistle blowing) Tam: Alright, stop shovin' at the back.

Somebody's gonna get hurt.

speaker: Here, Tam, you need to dae a rota.

So long in front, then, get 'em to move on.

You've been here for the last two hours.

You should be the first to clear off.

Will you all just shut up?

I'm trying to watch my fiancé here.

What?

He's rowin', is he?

Aye.

And it's called scullin', as a matter of fact.

-speaker: Ooh, scullin'.

-(laughter) Right.

Wait here.

announcer (on TV): We need to respond as the USA stops... -speaker: Come on!

-I got a woman up there... announcer: Belgium in first, USA in second, and Great Britain... (crowd chattering indistinctly) Tam: Right.

Let her through.

Let the lassie through to the shop.

Come on, out of the way.

Oh, thank you.

Thanks.

-shopkeeper: Sit here.

-Tam: You get a good look.

-speaker: I want to see it.

-(announcer speaking indistinctly) crowd: Ohh.

Come on.

Ohh!

Tam: Alright.

Alright.

speaker: Tell us what's goin' on.

USA one length ahead after seven 750 meters.

The commentator says the wind is an enemy to Great Britain.

The Belgians are droppin' right off.

Britain are coming back.

Her fiancé, he's a bloody giant, by the way.

Is he from the Gorbals?

No, he's not that, he's the other one.

She's engaged to the one who looks like Harold Lloyd.

(crowd laughing) Never mind.

The bigger one's picking it up right now.

Margaret: Yes, come on.

Britain and the Yanks neck and neck.

-Come on!

-(crowd cheering) -Tam: Britain edgin' it.

-Come on.

Tam: Our old boys have got another gear.

They're givin' it the hammer.

-Come on.

-They've opened up a gap.

(crowd cheering) Great Britain wins!

-(crowd cheering) -Yes!

Yes!

Tam: USA is second, and I don't-- Who cares who's third?

We're through to the final!

(crowd cheering) (triumphant music playing) (sighs) (operatic singing on stereo) Jack Beresford: Good, lads.

Thought you'd gone off too slow, but timed it just right.

Just.

How you feelin'?

Good.

Good.

One more to do.

Just rest tonight.

That's the key.

One more.

(both breathing heavily) (both sigh) Good show, chaps.

Wonderful performance.

Sheer guts.

I do beg your pardon.

Charles Burnell, but everyone calls me Don.

How do you do, Don?

-Bert Bushnell.

-Charles: Hmm.

Well, you're there.

You've made it.

You're Olympic finalists.

Incidentally, I don't know if you got the finishing times.

Uh, Parsner and Larsen, the Danes, they won their semi in 7 minutes, 48.3 seconds.

You beat the Americans in 7 minutes, 55.1.

Tremendous effort.

Your best time so far.

But still a good seven seconds off the Danes.

Perhaps another rasher of bacon in the morning, eh, Bushnell?

So lovely to meet you.

Best of luck.

(gentle music playing) Seven seconds.

Christ.

Well, they weren't being pushed, were they?

There was no one near enough to push 'em by the sound of it.

-We can beat them.

-Yeah, but-- Don't listen to him.

I'm sorry, I...

I respect my father very much, but he has a most... particular sense of good sportsmanship, which I find a little troubling at times.

I beg your pardon.

I really do.

I'm...

I need to rest.

Yeah, me too.

(vehicle passing) (suspenseful music plays) -You alright, sir?

-Yeah.

It's, uh, fine.

Right.

Well, uh, it's your battery.

You didn't have the radio on for ages, did you, sir?

Uh... Oh, it's alright.

I can arrange to have you towed back.

It won't be a problem.

What won't be a problem?

Bert.

Bert, what you doin' here?

(chuckles nervously) I've just been rowing in an Olympic semifinal.

What about you?

Actually, I saw ya.

Yeah, we was comin' along and your mum said, um, "Look, they're rowin'.

It must be the Olympics," so we stopped.

(pensive music playing) He's through to the final, double sculls.

Oh.

Oh, uh, congratulations.

Bert: Ta.

And, uh, you're his dad?

(chuckles) Well, you can have the new battery free, compliments of the AA.

-Oh, yeah?

-Bert: Why didn't you tell me?

-John: What?

-You was watching.

Have you seen them all?

Have you seen them all?

Have you-- Have you seen all my races?

Have you been doing this for ages?

It ain't something to get upset about, you know?

We was proud.

-We wanted to watch you.

-So why didn't you tell me?

How come you're hiding here?

Why didn't you sit with everyone else?

(pensive music playing) You didn't wanna be around if I lost, did you?

-No.

-Bert: Yeah.

You wanted to be able to make a quick exit.

-That's-- -You're unbelievable.

You're unbelievable.

That ain't right.

Bert!

Come back here.

(music continues) I just didn't wanna put him off.

(sighs) Charles: Gotta be off.

Big day tomorrow.

Cheerio.

Mr. Burnell.

Bert, still here?

Yeah.

I, uh...

I was just thinking about tomorrow and... Is there any chance that I could have a word with you, in private?

Cheers.

He never told me he was still reporting... during the event.

Oh, I think he likes the routine of it.

Stops him from worrying too much.

(both chuckle) I don't think of him like that at all, Dickie.

I mean, to me, he's, he's a rock.

I wanna say that, actually, Mr. Burnell... Don.

I wanna say he's a credit to you, Dickie is, how you brought him up.

Thank you, Bert.

That's why I wanted to speak to you.

I... need you to do me a favor.

I need you to look me in the eye... and tell me it's gonna be alright tomorrow.

Bert.

(chuckles) -I'm-- -I'm exhausted.

I don't want Dickie to know, but... when we finished that race today, I could hardly get out the tub when we got to the side.

I was that knackered.

I'm sure it's there, one last effort... even though...

I'm tired.

(gentle pensive music playing) I just need someone to help me unlock it.

Someone I truly respect.

(music continues) (keys jangle) (music continues) (Charles sighs) It's a gold medal.

Olympic gold medal.

It's mine.

1908, men's eight.

If Richard manages to come through first, we'll be the only father and son gold medalists in the entire history of the Olympics.

I... (gentle music playing) Why didn't he say anything?

Why didn't you?

A gentleman doesn't boast, Bert.

I've always impressed that upon Richard.

It is a fact, nevertheless, that I have my medal and he has yet to win his.

(chuckles softly) Despite all the training he puts in and the diet and God knows what else.

But now we'll find out.

Is the son the match of the father?

I hope so.

I really do.

Except one can never be certain.

That's the glory of sport, its unpredictability.

So... while I can and will tell you everything will turn out exactly as you hope tomorrow... the truth is... it won't actually make a blind bit of difference.

You're either made of the right stuff... or you're not.

John: Got you sardines.

You need fish oil.

You look knackered.

In fact, you should be in bed by now.

You're as white as a sheet.

Do you know what time is it?

Bloody hell, Bert, you've got an Olympic final in the morning.

What are you playin' at?

Yeah.

Yeah.

I'm sorry.

Right.

Well, never mind, you know.

Except it's same as your mum says... Certain things matter... like not havin' any regrets in your life, that's one of 'em.

You've worked too hard all these years to take any chances now, son.

So... eat your food.

Bert: I'll have it in my room.

Ta.

(birds chirping) John: Alright, love.

I'm ready.

Love?

You've not changed.

I'm not coming.

What?

-Lena: I'm staying here.

-But-- But nothing.

I made up my mind.

You gotta come.

Lena: No, I can't bear it.

You know how it upsets me.

I've managed up until now, only not today, not the final.

I daren't.

(dramatic music playing) You tell me how it went when you get back.

(music continues) (typewriter keys clacking) Jack Beresford: How you feeling?

Good.

Jack Beresford: Good?

Good.

This is it, then.

You're top men.

-Get away quick-- -We know what to do.

(Jack chuckles softly) Yeah.

We gotta pull together, Dickie, if we're gonna do this.

Two gotta become one.

Only we are one already 'cause of our dads.

-What?

-Trying not to let them down, and hating them one minute and loving them the next.

-What are you on about?

-My dad and yours, Don.

I went to see him last night.

Richard Burnell: I'm not sure now's -quite the time to-- -Yes, it is.

It's exactly the time, that's what I'm saying.

'Cause we've both spent our whole lives dealing with them and how they are.

Only now it's just us in the boat, Dickie.

It's just you and me, and that's enough.

It's more than enough, 'cause we're a bloody good team.

Hmm.

(announcer speaking indistinctly) Hello.

Prime Minister.

I hardly dare tell him how well the advertising's worked.

Well, all that stuff in the program?

No, I thought it was unlikely.

Oh, no.

Amazing what these companies will offer.

I can see it catching on.

(spectators applauding) announcer: Sculling magnificently and Wood goes past the finishing post.

The winner by five or six lengths.

The result of final for the single sculls, MT Wood of Australia takes the gold medal, EG Risso of Uruguay, second, and Catasta of Italy... (continues indistinctly) (footsteps approaching) Albert: Here you go, lads.

She's all ready.

(gentle music playing) (music continues) (operatic song playing faintly) (operatic singing swells) (Bert and Richard breathing deeply) (gentle music playing) (announcer speaking indistinctly) (singing continues) (singing continues) Albert: Don't be sick.

Don't be sick.

Just breathe deep.

Look at your clogs, you're alright.

Just breathe.

(gentle piano music playing) (announcer speaking indistinctly) Richard Burnell: Big start, 40.

Settle.

Go when they go.

You call it.

Yep.

(music continues) photographer: Smile.

(shutter clicks) (music continues) (tense music playing) French official: Etes-vous prêts?

official 1: Ready.

official 2: Ready.

official 3: Ready.

(music continues) French official: Partez.

(dramatic music playing) Tam: The race is underway.

Great Britain have gone up a fair length.

The Danes are there too, maybe even inching it, in fact.

And Uruguay are not exactly hanging about either.

(all grunting) (cheering) (music continues) -Tam: They're catching them.

-announcer: They're closing the gap.

They're catching them.

announcer: Uruguay pulling away.

(spectators cheering) (grunting continues) (music continues) Neck and neck!

Neck and neck!

(spectators cheering) (indistinct yelling) -Richard Burnell: Bert!

-(Bert grunts sharply) Bert: Wait!

Richard Burnell: Soon.

It's gotta be soon.

Bert: (grunts) Wait!

(spectators cheering) Don't bully it.

(all grunting) Dickie!

Now!

(uplifting music playing) Hammer it!

(cheering) Tam: They've overtaken them!

(operatic singing on gramophone) (epic music playing) Sing.

Sing.

Sing.

Sing.

Sing.

(ethereal music playing) (operatic singing continues) (high-pitched vocalizing) (grunts) (ethereal music continues) (groans) (grunts) (music swells) (grunts sharply) (cheering) (mouths) Come on!

(triumphant music playing) Yeah!

(laughing) Yes!

(cheering continues) (music continues) Yeah!

(both laughing) Tam: We won!

-(cheering) -(Margaret laughing) Oh, yes!

Oh, yes!

(cheering continues) My dear old man.

announcer: Result of the double sculls, BHT Bushnell and RD Burnell of Great Britain win the gold medal.

(tranquil music playing) (sighs) Jack Beresford: Lads!

Ha!

Oh, you buggers.

All down to you, Jack.

Great effort.

Great effort.

Not bad, lads.

Not bad at all.

both: Ahh!

-Well done, Mr. Burnell.

-Enjoy it, Bert.

Losing doesn't feel so great.

-Congratulations, man.

-Bad luck, mate.

Bad luck.

You always bring me bad luck.

Congratulations.

(gentle music playing) (spectators applauding) Well done, Richard.

(both laughing) announcer: The medal ceremony for the men's double sculls... (crowd cheering) speaker: Yay!

World champions.

announcer: Ladies and gentlemen, please stand for the national anthem of Great Britain.

("God Save the King" playing) Here, Dad.

Take this.

Take it.

I want you to have it.

Please.

(gentle music playing) As a thank you.

(John exhales) (music continues) (lively music playing) (gasps) (sniffles) (music continues) We should go.

Bert: Hmm.

You keep saying that.

We should.

We'll never get to do this again, will we... walk out of a changing room after we've beaten the world?

No.

(gentle piano music playing) But we can't stay here forever.

(music continues) (lively music playing) (rousing music playing) (music ends)