Wilde

He's coming! He's coming!

All right, now. Let's give a good Colorado welcome here!

- Hello, sir. You're most welcome. - Thank you, thank you.

All right, everybody, listen up.

I want to introduce you to Oscar Wilde.

Welcome to the Matchless Silver Mine.

Today, we opened up a new seam.

We're gonna name it after you.

How very kind.

I look forward to collecting the royalties.

Now, why don't you follow me over here.

Great lecture you gave last night. We're honored to have you visit us.

If you'd just like to step in here. There ya go, sir.

I thought I was descending into hell...

but with these angel faces to greet me, it must be paradise.

Is this the way to my personal seam?

Of course, I should have preferred gold... purple and gold.

But we live in a Silver Age, alas.

So much that is exquisitely beautiful is wrought from suffering, from pain...

from toil... broken bones and blistered skin.

Benevenuto Cellini understood silver.

He took the metal that you mine so nobly down here...

and transformed it into works of art for popes and princes.

Cellini... is he a wop?

The Renaissance man, in every sense.

The greatest silversmith the world has ever seen...

but a genius in life as well as art.

He experimented with every vice known to man.

- He committed murder. - He killed a man?

More than one.

Thank you.

I'd like to meet Cellini. Why didn't you bring him with you?

I'm afraid he's dead.

Who shot him?

Is Miss Lloyd connected to Lloyd's Bank?

A pity.

But she's comfortable, Ada.

A thousand a year.

Then I congratulate you, Lady Wilde.

Now that Oscar's been to America and sown his Wildean oats...

it's time he settled down.

- But weren't they very rough? - No, charming. Well, charming to me.

With each other, it's true they could be a little brusque.

They hanged two men in the theater one night before I gave a lecture.

I felt like the sorbet after a side of beef.

I know your friend is famous, Ada... notorious, at least...

but I don't understand for what.

For being himself, Lady Mount-Temple.

Don't Americans talk the most wonderful slang, though?

Well, I did hear one lady say...

"After the heel-lick I shifted my day goods."

What on earth did she mean?

She meant that she changed her clothes after a dance.

Connie, my love, Lady Mount-Temple is so anxious to meet you.

I knew your father, Miss Lloyd.

She's delightful, and not stupid. Really, not stupid at all.

Is that quite a reason to marry her?

Well, I must marry someone.

And my mother has our future planned out in every detail:

I'm to go into Parliament, we're to have a nice house...

and live a proper, settled life... literature, lectures...

the House of Commons, receptions for the world in general at 5:00.

How dreary.

Your attendance will not be required at those.

But your sphinxiness will be essential for our intimate little dinners at 8:00.

It will be a grand life, a charming life.

I see Constance will be busy preparing the dinners...

but what will she contribute to the literature and lectures?

She'll correct the proofs of my articles.

Oh, what a little sunbeam.

I do love her, Ada. She's...

Silent.

- I find her very silent. - But so sympathetic.

And I do need an audience.

I don't see how you can possibly take it all in, reading at that speed.

Try me.

I know better.

Where are we dining tonight?

At the Leversons.

Then you must show your true colors as a propagandist for dress reform.

The cinnamon cashmere trousers, I think.

And the cape with the ends that turn up into sleeves.

I don't think I can wear those trousers anymore.

A new Wilde for the world!

Another genius for Ireland!

We shall have to buy you a whole new wardrobe.

Ernest proposed to me under that statue.

Really, the things that go on in front of works of art are quite appalling.

The police should interfere.

We were made not to marry, whereas you and Constance are so happy.

Everyone says so.

It's perfectly monstrous how people say things behind one's back...

that are absolutely true.

So your audience has proved as responsive as you hoped?

Receptive, yes. Responsive?

I always wonder what she's thinking.

I expect it's about the baby.

Yes. Well, Constance is such a natural mother.

She's invited Robbie into the nest while his parents are abroad.

Robbie is Canadian. You can tell by his youth.

Have you been brought to England to mature, Mr. Ross?

Well, that was the idea, but it doesn't seem to be working.

I've lived here since I was three, and you see the pitiful result.

Robbie comes from a long line of imperial governors.

His grandfather was Prime Minister of Upper Canada.

Or was it Lower Canada?

The British will take their class system with them wherever they go.

They apply it even to continents.

Are you planning to govern a continent?

No. I don't even plan to govern myself.

Very nicely turned leg.

Hello, sir.

Shall I give you these, my love? I'll see if I can find a cab.

Coming through there, gents. Mind your backs.

Can you move out of the way, please?

Looking for someone?

Cab, cab!

Bedtime.

Just one more cigarette.

No. No, thanks, Robbie.

Don't stay up too late, Robbie.

Good night.

Good night, Oscar.

Good night, Robbie.

He's asleep.

He's so beautiful.

Almost as beautiful as his mother.

I don't know what I'd do without you, my constant Constance.

Good night, my dear.

Good night.

A university education is an admirable thing, of course...

so long as you remember that nothing worth knowing can ever be taught...

least of all at Cambridge.

But you told me...

in ancient Greece the older men taught the younger.

They drew them out.

I look forward to being drawn out immensely.

Yes, well, Greek love... platonic love...

is the highest form of affection known to man, of course.

You also told me...

that the Greeks put statues of Apollo in the bride's chamber...

so she would have beautiful sons.

But I can't help noticing that here the statue's in your bedroom.

Constance prefers a bath.

She was so beautiful when I married her, Robbie.

Slim, white as a lily...

such dancing eyes.

I've never seen such love in a pair of eyes.

She was...

Nothing should reveal the body...

but the body.

Didn't you say?

There has to be a first time for everything, Oscar...

even for you.

Hush. There's a good little fellow.

Come on. Come on, now. There.

Now, come on, Cyril. It's time for your bath.

Be a good boy. Don't make such a fuss!

You've got to get undressed. Come on.

I know you hate it.

Boys, Mrs. Wilde, they never do what they're told.

Oh, we're going to have a girl next time.

- Aren't we, Oscar? - I must go.

Good night, my dear. Now you behave, Cyril.

Remember, a gentleman should take a bath at least once a year.

- Good night. - Come on, Cyril.

It's not that bad.

I shan't be back till late. I'm dining with the Asquiths.

Hush now.

Come on, now.

Do you love me?

I feel...

like a city that's been...

under siege for 20 years.

Suddenly the gates are thrown open...

and the citizens come pouring out...

to breathe the air and walk the fields...

and pluck the wildflowers.

I feel...

relieved.

You don't worry about Constance?

"Every afternoon, on their way home from school...

the children used to play in the garden of the selfish giant."

Is that the garden where we play?

No, this is much larger and lovelier than that, with soft green grass.

There's grass where we go.

Yes, but are there 12 peach trees that burst into delicate blossoms...

of pink and pearl every springtime and bear rich fruit in the autumn?

Are there, Mama?

I don't think there are, Cyril, no.

Would you hand me a matchstick, and I'll put this hussar's head back on?

Thank you.

"The birds sat on the trees and sang so sweetly...

that the children used to stop their games to listen.

'How happy we are here, ' they said to each other."

I don't know how they could be happy if there was a giant.

There wasn't, you see, not yet. He was away, visiting a friend.

You're always away.

Yes, but I only go for a night or two at a time, and I always come back.

Whereas this giant, the one whose garden it was...