(CHOIR SINGS) And did the countenance divine
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was Jerusalem builded here
Among those dark satanic mills?
Give me my bow of burning gold
Bring me my arrows of desire
Bring me my spear
O, clouds unfold
Bring me my chariot of fire
I will not cease from mental flight
Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand
Till we have built Jerusalem
In England's green and pleasant land
(SWING MUSIC)
- Kim, we're being looked at. - Yes.
It's more than looking. It's watching.
Definitely.
In fact...
- I think it's an invitation. - I hope so, Donald. I really hope so.
(DONALD CHUCKLES)
What? What?
I think... That girl, do you think I should?
- Should what? - Talk to her.
No. I think I should talk to her.
(INAUDIBLE)
You spilled her drink.
- (MUSIC STOPS) - I think you should get her another.
She's a Jew. I don't buy drinks for Jews.
- Get her another drink. - I think you should be quiet... Jew lover.
(GLASS SHATTERS, PEOPLE MURMUR)
- Is it the uniforms, Givens? - Keep out of this.
Rowing eights, rugby fifteens. Groups of men in the same clothes. Is that the attraction?
- Shut up. - The best clothes are in Berlin.
Black boots, leather belts.
Click your heels, Givens. Click, click, click.
I'm warning you, keep out of this.
Keep out?
But that's the whole point, isn't it? Not keeping out.
You bloody ponce!
Hit me. Go on. It's what you do, isn't it?
Go on, Givens. Hit the bloody ponce.
(GIGGLES)
Shh!
(FOOTSTEPS IN HALL)
Ruddy hell!
It's morning. Miriam!
- You're right. - It's morning. If you're found here...
We'll both be sent down and our families will never speak to us again.
Fabulous. Get back into bed and make love to me.
(PORTER, KNOCKING) Morning, Mr. Givens. Morning, Mr. Thomas.
Quickly!
(PORTER, KNOCKING) Mr. Philby, good morning.
Get dressed. No, you don't have time.
Am I still drunk? You know, I think I'm still drunk.
(PORTER, KNOCKING) Mr. Givens?
He comes in next time round.
You're such an adventure, Kim Philby.
Right. Let's go.
Morning, Mr. Philby.
Stuck-up bastard.
Go that way. I'll see you later.
Bye.
Good morning, Mr. Philby.
(CHATTER)
Good fuck?
Yes, I think so. Thank you.
- Isn't it appalling? - What?
- The dollops. - Sorry?
It's an Empire breakfast.
The British Empire is run by men with heavy, dull dollops in the belly,
and it all starts here.
Talking of dollops.
Morning... dollop.
- Philby. - HAR. Harold Adrian Russell Philby.
Kim for short. Guy Burgess.
Finished?
- I was wondering... - What?
- It's May. - And?
- Oh, the coat. - Yes.
Vladivostock, Moscow, the Kuznets Basin and Cambridge -
coldest places on earth - and of the four, Cambridge.
Permanently the 19th February.
And I like pockets.
No, thank you.
You've been watching me.
Is that a question or a statement or hasn't it quite made up its mind yet?
Look at that. February 19th in a face.
- How are you? - It's almost the end of term.
- And? - The college lays us off for the vacation.
Then we're employed again at the start of next term.
- Saves the college money. - And leaves you penniless for three months?
Well, we'll do something about it.
Stay away from him.
We'll do something about it.
I'll see to it... personally.
- It was a question. - Hmm?
What I was saying to you about you watching me.
Guy?
Isn't he beautiful? His name's Julian Bell.
He frightens me because he burns so brightly.
- Bright, beautiful flames burn out. - Er, just in case, you should know...
in case you get me... wrong.
Wrong?
I'm not at all... you know.
- No, I don't think I do know. - Homosexual.
Three girlfriends in the last three terms. Miriam Block as your fourth.
Something of a sexual athlete, HAR Philby.
The university'll have to give you a blue for red-bloodedness if you keep it up.
(BELL CHIMES)
It's a simple, unavoidable choice, Donald - Communism or Fascism.
Everything in the middle is asleep. To fight Fascism, you must be a Communist.
Anything else is appeasement.
- The Apostles. - Apostles?
- Blunt, Burgess and Bell. - They sound like a firm of solicitors.
"Blunt, Burgess & Bell - solid, honest and incorruptible."
I think they want us to join.
- It'd be a honor. - Would it?
The Apostles is the most influential society in Cambridge. All the top men are Apostles.
- They're committed anti-fascists. - So they think we're suitable top men?
What else could it be?
Even when you're silent, the noise is remarkable.
- (GUY) Noise? - Your heart pumping away on your sleeve.
The cacophony of your gawp.
Does it show that much?
You talk to Maclean. He has an Achilles heel.
- His father. - The cabinet minister?
He's very ill. Use it.
I'll get closer to Philby.
- Sure Philby's right for us? - I want a longer look.
We can't afford to get it wrong. Our friends would never forgive us if we got it wrong.
Doesn't it make you uncomfortable,
all this privilege?
So much privilege.
Don't you want to smash it up, pull it all down?
No.
I don't.
My father died fucking my mother.
I heard her calling - bleating, really.
When I came into the room, for a moment I thought her calls were bleats of pleasure.
- She's got a narrow range of expression. - Why are you telling me this?
I had to roll him off. I was too vigorous.
He fell off the bed and onto the floor and broke his arm.
He was dead, so he didn't mind, but it made it tricky with the coroner.
My mother had to give evidence about how he died. She did it very well...
as only an Englishwoman of decent heart and stout bosom can,
rising splendidly above the absurd.
- That's how I'd like to be remembered. - Rising above the absurd?
As an Englishwoman of stout heart and decent bosom.
It flops, by the way, the penis, before rigor mortis,
so they got the coffin shut.
It gave me something, the death of my father.
What?
Freedom. It gave me freedom.
It was a huge sadness, but a great rush of freedom, too.
It sounds ridiculous, but the death of a parent can be a beginning,
especially if the parent's loved.
One of the supposed perks of being a fellow of Trinity
is drinking sherry and eating overcooked meat with men 100 times my age.
Come and sit with me at High Table.
We could do with some fresh air up there.
So, Mr. Philby, how are you spending the happiest days of your life?
- I have a motorcycle. - Mr. Philby has a motorcycle.
- And I'm a Communist. - (ALL SCOFF)
Which do you find funny?
Motorcycles are a force to be reckoned with.
- Political movements come and go. - Seventeen years...
since the Russian Revolution began, and showing no sign of going away.
I've always felt that attaching oneself so wholeheartedly
to the success or otherwise of a foreign power amounts to implicit treason,
which it would be if the Communists in this country could be taken remotely seriously.
Tell me, Arthur, is Hitler to be taken seriously?
Or Mussolini? Or are you content to be wearily omniscient about them, too?
Will they come and go without their stinking breath passing down our table,
disturbing conversation?
Where's the dinner? Where are the bloody waiters?
- Watch this. - (WAITER) Now.
(MUTTERING)
- Fantastic! - Did you see their faces?
We're the first waiters ever to strike at Cambridge.
(MURMURING)
To the revolution.
(HAPPY CHATTER)
Waiters don't strike!
Waiters don't bloody strike!
- Thank you, Mr. Givens. - Give it five minutes.
Make sure it's discussed.
I can answer your question about Hitler and Mussolini.
We must turn a blind eye.
We must let them make their small imperial gain.
We must let them behave badly towards the Jews.
This country fought the war to end all wars only 20 years ago.
I was at the Somme, and I know it must never happen again.
- Mr. Burgess, sir. - Michael.
- I wanted to thank you. - Thank me? What for?
(MICHAEL) Personally.
Perhaps you'd like to thank me somewhere more comfortable.
Disgusting.
- The waiter has been asked to leave. - You can't.
- It's done. - A quarter of the male population
of this university is homosexual, and a third of the academic staff.
And it's a shocking hypocrisy to punish a transgressing waiter
because of his sexual activity?
How dare we? The nerve!
It's not the sex. It's never the sex. Sit down.
Hey! Hey!
You are - how can I put it? - one of us.
Eton, a scholarship here, one of this college's brightest stars.
What next? Whitehall? Parliament?
From quadrangle to quadrangle. A life mapped out in squares.
- It's what the best people do. - The most privileged people, you mean.
Whatever you bloody well call it, it's right.
The right people are in charge - us.
And we shouldn't think we're like them. Us and them don't mix.
''All men are equal. All men, that is to say, that possess umbrellas.''
EM Forster, the well-known ponce!
Look, you've got the wrong man. Michael Frank didn't organize the waiters' strike.
Of course he didn't. He's a waiter.
I'm responsible. I should suffer the consequences, not him.
Very touching, but it's not as easy as that. This is a club here.
And membership is for life.
You're saying you're not going to punish me?
The club makes allowances for the mistakes of its members.
Are you a homosexual?
The club even allows for mistakes which last a lifetime.
Mr. Givens gave me a year's pay, just like that.
A whole year's pay in an envelope. I can't say no to an offer like that.
You betrayed Guy. You betrayed your fellow workers.
What about principles, Mr. Frank?
I can't afford principles.
It's all right for you. You don't have to think about ordinary things,
like how to pay the rent or where the next meal's coming from.
Why don't you bugger off and leave the real world to real people, Mr. Philby?
- Sir! - You can't live without principles.
No one can.
The waiter was paid to get caught in bed with Guy.
How do you know? Who told you?
I saw Givens give him an envelope full of money.
Don't tell Guy. It would hurt him to know. I don't want him hurt.
You care deeply, don't you, about fighting Fascism?
It's what I live for. I'd do anything.
- Are you still here? - Of course I'm still bloody here!
I'd have to bugger the Dean to get sent down!
This room, it's so bloody careful.
It's a careful bloody room in a careful bloody place.
It's a smug, complacent, dead bloody place!
Good. Well, that's a relief.
Kim.
I don't want to smash it up or pull it down because it's what I want for everyone.
I want everyone to have it.
- It's what I live for. - You're right. We want the same thing.
- Do we? - Don't we?
- ''Moby Dick''. - Sorry.
Inside the copy in your room, you'll find instructions. Follow them. Tell no one.
Instructions about what?
Disingenuousness isn't part of your character, Kim. Don't pretend it is.
''Moby Dick'', ''Moby Dick''...
''Moby Dick''!
(LAUGHS IN DISBELIEF)
- Hello. - Miriam.
- I wanted to see you. - Yes. Hello.
- What's that? - Nothing.
What kind of nothing? The nothing that's nothing or the nothing that's something?
Give it back.
Give it back!
(LAUGHS AWKWARDLY)
Can I trust you, Kim?
Yes... you can trust me.
(MAN) The test tells us a great deal about a man -
how well he follows instructions, how he copes with surprises.
- Not whether his heart's in the right place. - It's not hearts we're interested in.
It's souls.
I'm worried about Philby.
His enthusiasm is suspicious. We must be careful.
(ANTHONN) Give it a little longer,
(MAN) What is the expression? Why are you ''out on a limb'' for Philby?
(ANTHONN) I'm not sure about him either,
But if he is the real thing, he will be a valuable soul.
How will you find out? By asking for his word as a Cambridgeman?
What else is there?
- Can it have been...? - What? Our own lot?
Men in hats and bad coats reading the ''Daily Express''?
British Intelligence? Of course not!
Only insurance salesmen and Russian agents look like that.
Bloody hell.
- Not our lot? - No.
They've been watching us, probably for months.
That was a test, which means they want us.
And we passed, Donald.
Scotch and toothpaste.
Mmm!
A drink I know and love.
Camping trips as a child with my father.
You don't see much of him, do you?
No.
This is it, Donald. No more standing by and doing nothing.
It's frightening... and completely wonderful.
He's dying, Kim. My father's dying.
It's funny. He's a cabinet minister, a deeply religious man,
a pillar of the Establishment - everything I hate...
But he's my father. I don't think I can do this to him.
I've been looking for you.
- I should go. Work to do. - Where've you been?
- Out on the motorcycle. - Your voice has gone up an octave.
A test. I want to go on holiday,
and I have to be sure that the motorcycle's going well.
And I'd been meaning to ask you to come with me.
You smell of scotch... and toothpaste.
- The philanderer's double. - It was a test.
A test to check suitability for a long and exciting journey.
The journey of a lifetime.
You look like little boys.
You both look like little boys.
Otto's wrong about Kim. I'd bet my life he's genuine.
Our job is to talent spot.
In my opinion, Kim Philby is extremely talented.
- (KNOCK AT DOOR) - Come in.
- Julian. - I was looking for Donald Maclean.
Haven't seen him. Sorry.
It's his father. I'm afraid he's dead.
Is there anything...?
- You and Julian, there's nothing, is there? - This is the moment. His moment.
- What? - Donald.
He has to know what's best for him. If he doesn't know, he has to be told.
By me?
By Kim Philby.
If Philby brings Donald to the comrades, they'll find it hard to say no to Philby.
We'd be four talented friends.
And friendship is everything.
(BELLS CHIME)
(GUY) Julian.
Guy... this is what I think it is, isn't it?
- Am I in? Guy? - We want you to talk to Donald.
- Am I in? - Talk to Donald.
- It's not the right time. - Now is exactly the right time.
- His father's just died. - You should know,
Moscow is not as fond of you as you imagine.
- Moscow? It's the first time you've said it. - I don't want it to be the last.
They'd like you much more if you brought them Donald.
I bring them Donald Maclean, then they'll have me? Is that the deal?
- Is that how Moscow's thinking? - Listen,
babies are dying in this country because they're not fed properly.
Old men and women die alone without dignity.
Why? Because they're poor. That's all. Because they're poor.
I hate it. I hate it with all my being and I would do anything to change it.
Personal feelings, small indignities, they just have to be put aside.
It's hard - sometimes it's very hard - but it has to be.
And I know you feel the same.
I'm not used to this.
Nor am I.
Really?
You kept your socks on.
My Aunt Virginia gave them to me. They're hers.
(POSH VOICE) ''Whatever you do, don't take the socks orf.
''Not under any circumstances.''
I'm in bed with Virginia Woolf's socks.
Not in front of the socks, Julian.
(DONALD ) My father had a crisis of faith,
He lost confidence in the existence of God. It was a terrible lonely agony for him.
In his study, he drew an imaginary line down the center of the room.
All night, he paced his study. ''On this side, I walk with Christ.
''One step across the line... I turn away forever.''
He paced until daybreak.
Up and down.
I know how much you loved your father...
but... life goes on, and...
it matters what you do, Donald.
It matters so much what we all do, more than it has ever mattered.
He paced until daybreak on the right side of the line.
His faith stayed. His life didn't change.
- He won't ever know. - Betrayal is betrayal,
whether the betrayed knows it or not.
I didn't kiss him before he died. I didn't hug him.
Now I never will.
I loved him and I didn't hug him.
(MUSIC AND CHATTER)
The end of Cambridge. To real life.
(KIM) Real life. You all right?
Am I all right?
I'm completely fucking desolate.
Goodbye, Cambridge. Goodbye, old life.
Goodbye!
- Guy! Guy! - Guy!
- Guy!
- Burgess!
Guy!
- Stop the punt! - Where is he?
- Guy! - Guy!
Guy, where are you?
Where the hell is he?
I love this country!
This sceptered fucking isle!
This wonderful, foolish England.
We're going to change it forever, aren't we?
- Yes. - Yes.
- Goodbye, Cambridge. - Goodbye, old life.
(ALL) Whoo!
(CHOIR) And did those feet in ancient times
Walk upon England's mountains green?
And was the holy lamb of God
On England's pleasant pastures seen?
You're going to Vienna. Deliver this. 122 Bauhaus Strase, apartment 4.
Name's Ozer. When you make the delivery, the contact will know you are genuine.
Anything else?
A place to stay. She's a Communist, not an agent.
A good Viennese woman. And some money.
- Money? I don't want any money. - Expenses in Vienna. Take it.
I want you to know... And I know this sort of talk is not...
What I mean is, I'm very honored to have this chance.
I will give everything I have to fighting Fascism. Everything I have.
Sorry.
Never apologize...
for feeling that way.
Never.
(PEOPLE SPEAK GERMAN)
(SPEAKS GERMAN)
Sehr gut.
- What are you doing? - Seeing how much money you've got.
A hundred pounds. My... My mother gave it to me.
You don't need it.
- Were you going to steal it? - No... Yes.
If I don't give it to you, will you steal it anyway?
Yes.
(DISTANT VOICES SPEAK GERMAN)
(STAIR CREAKS)
Kim, Professor Klein from Berlin.
With what is left of his life.
He is a Jew and a Communist and he likes talking,
none of which are appropriate in Berlin.
- How long will he be staying with you? - As soon as we can, we'll move him on.
Austria is too German to stay long.
- It's a huge risk you're taking. - What should I do? Do nothing?
- Is that what you think? - No. I...
Well, what did you mean?
I want you to be safe, that's all.
- You're a brave woman. - Brave? No.
Bravery is when there's a choice
and the dangerous route is taken, the safe route ignored.
I'm not brave. I'm doing what I must do.
The English gentleman.
My father taught me three things when I was a boy.
Walk on the right-hand side of stairs and corridors, open doors for women,
let everyone else out of the lift first.
Do these three things, and every day, you will have moments when people like you,
and that will make everything easier.
I have to visit someone.
Ja. Dieser.
- Um... Was kosten das? - Ein schilling.
Where've you been?
- A delivery. - Please. Where've you been, Kim?
A delivery.
I'm sorry. Trust... is not easy.
- For you. - You can't afford them.
No.
(BOTH LAUGH)
You see what they do? You see what the Nazis do?
- It happened. - What happened?
The Social Democrats called out the power workers in Linz today.
In one day, 300 strikers murdered.
It's over before it started. They hanged the leaders.
I need your help. We have to move him tonight.
(TALK IN GERMAN)
(MAN) Halt.
Komm hier rein.
I went to Trinity College, Cambridge. My back is straight and my top lip stiff.
And I have a British passport.
Guten Abend.
Danke schon.
God save the King.
This is Gunter. He'll take you to a safe place.
Nein.
Kim.
Books. All books.
A suitcase full of books.
- Why are you laughing? - You are walking on the outside.
Another of your father's rules for happiness, protecting the woman from cars?
Like you would if you were walking down the Strand.
- You are ridiculous. - There.
- What? - I heard it. You said you loved me.
- Did I? - ''You're ridiculous.''
Kim Philby... you are ridiculous.
Litzi Friedman... the feeling is mutual.
(DOOR BANGS)
Oh, my God!
(GUNSHOT)
(KLEIN PLEADS IN GERMAN)
Nein! Nein!
(PISTOL COCKS)
- (GUNSHOT) - No!
Hier! Schnell! Halt!
(MEN YELL IN GERMAN)
Come on! Come on!
- Come on! - We must separate.
You go on.
Go on!
Go. Live. Live!
- Hey! Hey! - Halt!
(SHOUTS INSTRUCTIONS)
(FOOTSTEPS STOP)
(FOOTSTEPS RETREAT)
(GASPS)
(DOOR OPENS AND SLAMS)
(FOOTSTEPS ON STAIRS)
Thank God! Thank God!
Sometimes I think that if the world is like this...
You know the big wheel in Vienna?
- Mmm. - I went on it a week ago.
You can open the door and look at the people below, like little dots.
I thought I might jump.
But then I remembered - I care about all of them,
every single little dot,
and that's what stopped me.
I have faith in each and every dot.
Even if they're saying and doing and believing terrible things?
They will see what is right in the end.
You can get a British passport. Then you'll be safe.
- I want you to be safe badly. - How? How can I get a passport?
(LAUGHS)
- You're serious? - Very.
- A pragmatic marriage. - No.
A marriage of love, hope and faith.
Have faith.
And the living room.
It's horrible.
- It's horrible. - We'll take it.
I feel like a refugee.
An Austrian in London.
You're not a refugee. You're Mrs. Philby, and I love you.
- Are you nervous? - Meeting your friends...
They're not frightening. They're really very...
very ordinary.
(GRAMOPHONE: ''HALLELUJAH CHORUS'' BY HANDEL)
- Very patriotic, Guy. - You know me, queen and country.
(CHUCKLES)
Go and get a cup of tea, Jack.
Jack Hewitt, decorator and chorus boy in the hit musical ''No, No, Nanette''.
My new boy.
Hello. Some things never change.
Hello.
So Kim Philby went to Vienna and came back with a little wife.
Not little.
- (MUSIC STOPS) - Brave, dedicated, beautiful.
And a comrade.
I have a confession.
I think I was photographed in Vienna.
You knew? Why?!
Insurance. You want something on me in case I ever have doubts, is that it?
I said no to the money, so you needed photographs for future blackmail.
It's what always happens. Nothing personal.
- Don't you understand? I believe in this. - It shows. Passionate Communists.
You and your friends have your red hearts on your sleeves. What good is that?
- I don't understand. - Store your anger and your feeling.
It is yours. You'll never lose it, but no one must see it.
Your passion must be secret,
and your past must be buried.
Litzi's a remarkable girl.
Yes.
And a Communist.
She's known. Here. Everywhere.
Litzi Friedman, the Communist.
She's everything to me.
Everything?
Being with you gives me hope.
Kissing you gives me... What did you say?
A stiff upper lip.
I'd lost it a little, hope,
but you've given it back to me.
It's a precious gift. Thank you.
- I'm glad you're here. - Glad?
- I had to make you safe. - And I am. We are.
I don't think you'd come if it was only an arrangement.
I had to love you.
Had to? You're scaring me, Kim.
Talk to me.
Talk to me! What do you mean, ''had to''?
Look at me. Look at me.
Tell me you love me.
Say it. Please.
I can't.
Because it wouldn't be true.
Tell me you don't love me.
Look me in the eye and tell me you don't love me.
I don't love you.
I don't love you, Litzi Friedman.
(PLAYS NOTES LISTLESSLY)
It's done.
I no longer have a brave, dedicated... beautiful comrade for a wife.
What now?