Dorset Hall was bought by the fourth Lord Bassington in 1802
for the princely sum of £3,000.
The eighth Lord Bassington still resides here.
It's only with his kind permission that we're able to visit today.
So… follow me.
The house is famed for its extensive collection of antiquities,
which led Lord Byron to quip
that it made the British Museum look like a knickknack shop.
Highlights include
the priceless collection of ivory chess pieces
that date back to the Byzantine era,
an ancient Egyptian sarcophagus, and…
And the, uh, sacred headdress
of the Aboriginal tribe known as the Waka Waka.
Clear off!
I'll have no lizards in my house!
You hear me?
No fucking lizards…
You know what it is, James?
I'm angry. I'll tell you what really champs my giblets.
I should be an asset to them. They should want me around. I'm smart.
I'm a smart guy. I've got grades. It's…
It blows my mind, man.
I screw up one time… maybe a couple, two, three times,
all of a sudden, I'm persona non gratis, not wanted, en voyage.
It's… it's insane.
- It's ridiculous, is what it is, James. - Freddy?
Just chill out, man.
Maybe I don't wanna chill out, James.
Maybe… maybe I need to get out of here. What do you say? You and me.
I can't, bruv. I've gotta meet someone.
Or more like something. Something special.
You know what?
Oh, whoa! What are you doing? Freddy! I'm staying right here.
Oorah!
Freddy!
Woo-hoo-hoo-hoo!
As part of a general push to increase productivity,
we've decided to expand our operation on your estate.
The new weed farm would be underground,
but we'd be using the stables for access and somewhere to keep the gennies.
No, Susie. It's not happening.
We agreed to move out on the proviso that you'd help us make more money.
So while we await a detailed breakdown of your new business plan,
I am simply cracking on.
Do it somewhere else. Do it on one of your many other holdings.
What I do with other properties in my portfolio
isn't something you should worry about.
What I'm worried about is the fact that we agreed a timeline for your exit,
and now you're talking about expanding your operation on my estate.
Freddy's gone fishing.
Woo-hoo-hoo-hoo!
Great. Stay in touch.
Not the stables, darling.
They're of significant historical importance.
Mother, Anne Boleyn didn't change her horses there
on her way to visit Henry VIII.
By the time they were built, she'd been a headless corpse for 300 years.
Well, they may have been updated. It doesn't matter.
I'm not gonna let them expand their operation on the grounds.
Would you like me to have a word with Susie Glass?
You know I can be quite persuasive when I need to be.
No, Mother. I don't want you getting involved with these people.
I've seen the effect it's had on Freddy.
Yes, and the sooner you get rid of them, the better.
I just need to figure out a way of making them more money
with a little less fuss.
Now, come on.
Nothing like a good funeral to put things in perspective.
Let not your hearts be troubled.
Believe in God, believe also in me.
In my Father's house are many rooms.
If it were not so, I would have told you.
I go to prepare a place for you.
And if I go and prepare a place for you…
What's with the window?
Oh, it was in his will.
Apparently, he wanted to be buried standing up,
sticking out of the ground, so he could have a view of the house.
Well, that's unpleasant.
Oh, that's the son there, Max.
He was one of Freddy's acting chums from Durham.
If you think you've seen him before,
he did an advert for shampoo that was everywhere.
No man cometh unto the Father, but by me.
If ye had known me,
ye should have known my Father…
He's going to inherit the entire estate?
Yes.
The house, the debts, the financial burden.
You two have a lot in common in that respect.
Hello, Rosie.
How's your tummy?
- My tummy's fine. Thank you for asking. - You ought to be more careful.
I might not be around to help you next time.
Hopefully, there won't be a next time.
How's your American friend?
You're not jealous, are you?
A little protective, perhaps.
Well, that's very sweet of you.
But I can look after myself. Oh, I'm sure you can.
But I'd be wary of Mr. Johnston.
Behind the air of pomposity, there's a man you don't wanna fuck with.
Speak for yourself, Eddie.
How well do you know the son?
Oh, Max?
He's rather lovely. He's your classic struggling artist.
Just a little too desperate to be discovered.
Ever since his father died, he's been like a bird with a broken wing.
Would you introduce me?
You're up to something, Eddie.
Never.
I remember Freddy. The year above me at Durham.
He was a bloody good Demetrius.
Midsummer Night's Dream. I was Lysander.
He should have stuck at it. Seriously, he could've walked into RADA.
Oh, Freddy has many talents, but sticking isn't one of them.
I heard you've been getting a lot of work.
Oh, I can't complain.
Acting is like any great art form.
It's the paradoxical reconciliation of our dualistic identities
to recognize ironic beauty concealed within the malign.
Though there's easier ways of making a living, God knows.
Max, darling, you have my sympathies.
Now I must go and rescue my mother.
I wanted to offer my condolences. I recently lost my own father.
A right kick in the balls, isn't it? Certainly.
Then add to that the inheritance tax, which is ludicrous.
When I found out the running costs, I thought they were fucking joking.
Could've been the same for me.
Fortunately, my father made… certain provisions.
You know, uh,
it may be worth you and I sitting down, actually.
There's a small business opportunity that… might be of help to you.
Supply a product that is highly profitable,
totally unregulated,
inherently benign, and incredibly popular.
I'm warming to this, Eddie. I really am.
It's the kind of risk-reward relationship I could get on board with.
Free market, fucking great.
Lack of regulation, check.
No taxation? Yeah, baby.
Smidge of illegality?
Yeah, well, no business plan's perfect.
There is, however, one tiny little
reputational obstacle that we need to navigate
before we could proceed,
and it's… it's slightly delicate.
Well, I can be extremely discreet if necessary.
You must remember, your father and mine, they used to fish for salmon on the Spey.
That's right.
And that matters,
particularly as it's my father who's the cause
of this specific challenge.
I have in my possession a series of documents
detailing the purchase of a particularly salacious artifact.
If these documents were ever to come to light,
they would cause considerable scandal.
In return for £500,000, I will hand them over to you.
If not, I will be forced to pass them on to the nation's press.
Do not make the mistake of underestimating me.
Can't you just ignore it?
Your father clearly had some demons. Whatever he did dies with him.
I'm about to have a second audition for a role in a major Hollywood movie.
But, as you can see,
any kind of hoo-ha is gonna seriously torpedo my chances.
You've clearly got some… connections,
and I imagine they would come replete
with the necessary skill set to deal with this situation.
Here's how I see it going.
You make contact with the blackmailer.
You bring them, and whatever evidence they have, back here,
I'll take a look, make sure it's the real deal, destroy it,
and then… you can help me convince them never to darken my door again.
There is, um, one more thing I would, uh, just ask, Eddie.
When you lay your hands on the file,
I'd really appreciate it if you didn't look inside.
Whatever secrets my father had, I'd appreciate it if they stayed secret.
A matter of respect for the deceased.
Whatever is in the file is none of my concern.
Your father's secrets will remain secret. You have my word.
But let's be clear.
If I do this for you,
then we have an agreement.
If you can make this problem go away,
you and your criminal associates can turn this place
into the Hanging Gardens of the Original Rude Boy Ganja Man
for all I care.
Uh…
I, um…
I… I thought you might like some refreshment.
That's very kind, Your Grace.
- Two sugars, if memory serves? - Absolutely.
You seem to have worked wonders with that dog.
She's a wonderful dog. Pleasure to have around.
I'm sure Eddie's very appreciative.
It's not like he hasn't got enough to contend with right now.
I wonder if we could be of some assistance to him.
Come on, Geoff.
What have you got up your sleeve?
What if we could find an alternative venue for their activities?
I'm sure you've been acquainted with Mr. Rokes
from Green River Farm next door.
The sheep farmer? What are you saying?
Well, sheep need a lot of land to graze.
And lamb's not turning a profit these days.
He's broke?
Mr. Rokes is being investigated for fraud by the Ministry of Agriculture.
So he's not just broke.
He's as bent as a barbed wire fence.
There's a sheep auction today,
and I'm pretty sure Mr. Rokes will be in attendance.
You sly old fox.
Plants are actually a lot more like humans
than people tend to think.
They breathe.
They're territorial.
They communicate with each other.
How come you know so much about plants?
It's what I do, I guess.
I'm like a botanist. Oh, no way.
My granddad used to run a nursery.
Flowers, not kids.
I like flowers.
I'd love to see your plants one day.
Oh.
That's a bit of a tricky one.
Where I work is sort of like a… restricted access area sort of thing.
I trust you.
It's just… recently we… we've been having a bit of trouble at work.
Some of our plants went missing.
Oddly enough, it was on the day that we met.
What? You don't think I had anything to do with that, do you?
Oh, no, course not.
Yeah.
I mean, what am I gonna steal a load of plants for?
Traditionally, the selection process for a prospective new landlord
takes place over a couple of months.
We like to give their bums a good old sniff.
We don't just rock up at funerals waving our check books around.
Look, it was a business opportunity that was presented to me.
And now I'm presenting it to you.
This gives you an alternate venue, an increased capacity,
and replaces the existing operation on my estate by the end of the year.
I'm willing to consider expanding the operation to a 12th location,
but when you start talking about a bit of blackmail,
then it's all starting to sound deeply problematic.
It's a loose end that I intend to tie up. Very simply, very easily.
I'm willing to take a face-to-face meeting,
but I'm not making any promises, and I don't want any shenanigans.
No shenanigans.
Okay.
Who are you?
Don't turn around.
All right. All right.
I'm the guy with the money. Put the bag on the floor.
That's not how this is gonna work.
I'm the one who says how this is gonna work.
Otherwise, your mate's face
is gonna be on the cover of every newspaper tomorrow morning.
The only way you're gonna get your money is if you do exactly as I… say.
You're Frank?
Come on, give me the documents, then.
I get it. You want the documents.
Yes.
Well, I don't have the documents here.
Shall we go get them then? Please.
A 12,
a 20,
two 53s,
and a 69.
I like to think of myself as a fairly patient man, Frank.
But when you start ordering chicken bao buns…
Let me translate.
Twelve is vegetable spring rolls.
Twenty is confit of pork.
Fifty-three is crispy noodle chips,
which I've ordered twice 'cause I'm quite partial to.
And 69 you'll find isn't on the menu.
For the simple reason that 69
isn't a dish.
What is it, then?
It's not a "what."
It's a "who."
And here he is.
- All right, all right. - It's all there, every penny.
Whoa!
Frank, why don't you explain to the nice man this isn't his money?
The money in that bag is owed to me.
And what's owed to me belongs to you.
Sorry. Fucker…
- Hello, Susie. - Just checking in to see how you're doing.
Well, it's not going exactly to plan.
So you gave him half a mil, now you've got nothing to show for it?
Sounds a bit sloppy, if you don't mind me saying.
What's the name of the guy that lent him the money?
I don't know. He's a large Chinese gentleman.
She wants to talk to you.
Can I help you? Yeah.
Yeah. Yeah. Oh, I see. Yeah.
Yeah. All right.
When you put it like that, it does have a bearing on the situation.
With the greatest respect, Susie,
that money's a longstanding debt that needs to be repaid.
For fuck's sake. That's very decent of you.
If you can guarantee my money, I'll give your man the address.
Tell your father I'll send him some buns.
You should've mentioned Susie Glass. She said she'll meet you there.
Hello, Susan.
Compliments of the chef.
Enjoying your little sojourn into the murky world of criminality?
Uh…
It's certainly edifying.
Shall we? Let's.
You're not the taxi.
No, we were… We're looking for your dad. Is he around?
He's busy packing.
That's all right, darling. This won't take long.
Hello, Francis. You going somewhere?
Um… How did you find me?
Oh, that would be down to your helpful Chinese friend.
Now, weren't you supposed to give us something before you go?
If you can find it amongst all these bags.
Your dad's a bit of a messy pup, isn't he?
Yeah, Daddy's a bit of a mess, isn't he?
That's what Mummy's always saying.
But you'd be surprised what nutrition can be found in other people's stools.
See that one there?
That's a former cabinet minister.
Collects illegally smuggled birds' eggs.
This one is a certain children's TV presenter.
Got himself a taste for, uh…
You like the breakfast show, don't you, darling?
Daddy used to be one of the top journalists in the country.
Then the oligarchs took over.
Yes, no freedom of the press anymore. You have to answer to the powers that be.
And if you don't follow their narrative, they bury you. But not me.
My daddy's got integrity.
Oh yeah.
Big plastic bags full of it.
Tell you what, darling,
why don't you tell Mummy to make a cup of tea?
We don't wanna be late for our flight.
Oh, no, don't you worry.
We've got loads of time. Go on.
Sit down, Frank. Whoa, steady.
We don't wanna hurt you or your family. But we want the file.
Here, that's it.
- This better be it. - Aren't you gonna have a look?
See, that's just it, isn't it? No one wants to look inside the folder.
That's why the world's gone to hell.
I'm not gonna look because, firstly, it's of no interest to me.
And, secondly,
you're coming with us.
No one said anything about going anywhere.
You really not gonna open it?
No.
- Not even a little bit curious? - Nah.
Let's get this done and get Max on board.
Fair enough.
One-ten, 11, dot. Twelve. I'm bid 13, bid 14. £15 I'm bid. 16.
Ninety, you. Ninety, you. £100 bid. 102. 102. 102.
Yeah, there he is.
Standing up, front row, the guy to the left.
What do you think's my best approach? I mean… I can hardly walk up to the man
and ask him if he'd like to house a cannabis farm under one of his barns.
I know his estate manager.
I could always introduce you.
But, in my opinion, I think it's better if you go up and meet him yourself.
I mean, he'll know who you are.
I'm sure he'd be susceptible to your powers of… persuasion, ma'am.
190 bid. 191, 191, 191.
You really think so, Geoff?
Well, we know he needs the money.
And you are very good with people, if you don't mind me saying so.
Right, then. Wish me luck.
Good luck.
At 191…
Do you need a hand?
I'm fine, Geoff.
You know you shouldn't smoke fish with pine, don't you?
Huh?
You're planning on smoking that beautiful carp, but the resin,
it poisons the flesh.
Tsk!
I can't do anything right, can I?
I mean, Eddie's off gallivanting around the country
pretending to be a gangster.
And I'm stuck here, alone, with this… dead fish.
Freddy.
It's a lucky man who's happy with his place in life.
It's like a secret garden.
I know, right?
That's how I like to see it.
It's like an underground world filled with magical plants
that bring nothing but righteousness
and can help everyone feel so much better.
And it's all being outlawed by Babylon.
How many plants you got down here?
Rather not get into those details, to be honest.
It's a bit… a bit sensitive information.
You worried I'm gonna report you?
No, of course not.
It's just I like to take my professional responsibilities
very seriously.
Me too.
Oh, snap.
What kind of work do you do?
I'm a consultant.
People bring me in when they've got a problem, and I help them fix it.
A jack of all trades but a master of none is oftentimes better than a master of one.
Wow. You're so clever.
D'you wanna smoke a joint or something?
I've got loads of different flavors and strains.
Uh, I don't smoke.
- I don't mind if you do though. - Maybe I'll just have a cheeky little one.
I'm sure there's one in the ashtray.
- Just give me two secs. - Okay.
Be right back.
You reckon the world would be a better place
if everyone smoked weed?
Um…
Not necessarily.
But it'd definitely make it a lot more calmer.
You're gonna need a lot more than this if you're gonna change the world.
Oh, no. This spot, it's just one of 12.
Each one as big as this?
There's ones even bigger.
That's a pretty substantial network.
Sure you don't want a toke?
Well, since I'm with the king of green, why not?
Look at this. I can't believe I'm letting him off for half a mil.
Don't get greedy.
We hand over the documents. You get the money.
Then you pay back your friend.
How fitting that you arrive at night.
Really, Edward, your sense of timing is wonderfully theatrical.
We thought you'd be keen to clean this mess up as soon as possible.
Quite right. Quite right.
This is my, uh, associate, Susan Glass.
Thrilled to meet you, Ms. Glass.
- Eddie's told me all about you. - Hmm. Has he now?
Let me conclude this rather sordid little business, then,
so we can get into the weeds and start hashing out a deal.
That for me?
It's all there. Photographs, files, documents, the lot.
You didn't look inside?
No, I didn't.
Good man. Good man.
Now, I'm well aware you could have some additional backup
squirreled away somewhere.
That's why I wanted to have this little chat.
This is the last you'll see of me. You have my word.
Trouble is,
your word's absolutely meaningless.
Frank, I think you understand the gravity of the situation.
You're not to be heard from again, and if that's understood, the money is yours.
As promised.
Just because you've got some muscle now
doesn't change what you really are.
And what was in that envelope is as compromising as it gets
for you and your career.
Whatever his father was doing, it's over now.
What are you talking about his father for? I wasn't blackmailing his father.
I was blackmailing that mad cunt.
Well…
that's somewhat of a revelation, Maxie.
Okay.
There's a perfectly reasonable explanation for all of this,
and it is nothing that will upset anyone
unless they are… unbelievably oversensitive.
Hold your horses, cowboy.
I think you need to adjust your transparency settings.
You need to tell us what is going on right now.
It's nothing. It's a little quirk. It's a hobby.
Right… now.
Okay.
If full transparency will help grease the wheels of industry, then, um…
…follow me.
What do you make of them?
They seem, uh,
unremarkable.
Take a closer look.
Adolf Hitler.
His use of light is second to none.
If it wasn't for the war,
he'd be remembered with the likes of Monet.
And I'm in possession
of the largest collection of his work outside of Switzerland.
He was a visionary.
These painting are average, at best.
Anyone who thinks otherwise is deluded.
I thought a man of your unique lineage
might be able to appreciate the work of a true master.
See beyond the reputation of the man to find the sublime in the malign.
Your Lordship,
maybe you could show them the crown jewels.
Maybe you're right.
After an injury at the Battle of the Somme,
Adolf Hitler was examined by an army doctor.
The records show that he lost a very particular part of his anatomy.
When it came up for sale five years ago,
I made sure nothing stood in my way.
The sole physical remnant of the Führer of the Third Reich.
Preserved in formaldehyde for nearly 80 years.
Adolf Hitler's
nutball.
You've got to be fucking kidding me.
Had he not lost his right testicle,
the balance between logic and creativity would have been held in check,
and the world blessed with the next da Vinci.
Instead, what was sweet turned sour, but no less creative.
He still remained a brand genius.
Think of the theater, the pageantry of the Third Reich.
The Hugo Boss uniforms, the aesthetic construction of the Luger,
the dynamic lines of the Messerschmitt.
The ironic, iconic symbolism
of the majestic eagle resting upon the ancient Indian symbol for peace.
And just as the acorn retains the potential of the fully grown oak,
I am now in possession of the genesis of Hitler's creative genius.
In his teste.
I'm not sure this is gonna work, Max.
Susie, we're done here.
Come on, Eddie, don't be a wuss.
Let's not be too hasty, Edward.
I don't care about his ideological or his philosophical positions.
I came to explore a possible business venture,
and whatever's floating around in that jar
is gonna have an impact on our negotiations.
Now, this is what's called leverage, Eddie.
We have a special rate for people like him.
- What do you mean, people like me? - Max!
Can't let you do that, Frank.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!
Everyone, just calm down.
I'm not gonna let anything jeopardize my career. You have no fucking idea
how hard I've had to work to get into this position.
I'm gonna be a fucking star!
Got one body in the house that needs disposing of
and one somewhat unsympathetic gentleman who requires your attention.
What happened, boss?
After a rather bizarre revelation…
Nutball.
…negotiations took an unexpected turn.
There were some minor disagreements about the deal structure.
But Eddie here proved himself remarkably capable at arbitration.
Oh fuck.
After the inevitable to-ing and fro-ing,
we managed to iron out terms that were…
…acceptable to all parties.
What do you want us to do?
Impress upon Lord Fuckhead the details of our contract.
Unless you have any objections, Your Grace? I know he was a family friend.
- No. Do your worst. - What about him?
- He'll be all right. - Yeah.
Come on, then.
Easy. Easy. Easy, easy.
My goodness, Edward. You simply reek of formaldehyde.
Where on earth have you been?
And why are you drinking whiskey first thing in the morning?
The less said about that, the better.
But, suffice to say, it's been, uh… …a rather long night.
Oh. Well, whilst you've been gadding about doing God knows what,
I have been finding solutions to our current predicament.
Right.
I've found a new home for your marijuana plantation.
What?
It's Mr. Rokes, darling.
From next door.
He's sitting on 2,000 acres that he can't afford to keep,
and he is longing to talk to someone about a long-term lease.
Well, well.
You would not believe the things I've done in the last 48 hours, Mother.
And you come along and… fix it all with a glass of sherry.
I've got a lot of time for your mum. Takes good care of herself.
Good sense of humor.
A little bit eccentric, but who isn't?
Just a little. So are you gonna talk to my neighbor, then?
I'll take the meeting. See if it's appropriate.
At least someone did their due diligence.
Despite the, uh, few minor niggles
we might've come across in the last couple of days,
you actually came out on top.
I don't appreciate being shot at, Edward.
In fact, and this may come as a shock to you,
given my chosen career path,
I actually make a point of avoiding being shot at, at all times.
Having said that,
I will admit you proved yourself useful in the end.
Oi, oi, love birds.
Don't mind me.
Hello, mate.
Fire in the hole.
I've gotta get this straight,
'cause Blanket was making no sense.
According to him, you had a spin on master chef over there
and blew up a load of Nazis.
With a fucking grenade.
Nazi. Singular.
Now we have a rare art collection and two farms to set up.
I take it all back.
Suze, he's a proper G.
You're a fucking idiot, Jack.
To Eddie, the grand duke of getting shit done.
Hmm, no, no, no. I'm not cheersing to that.
All right.
Why don't we cheers to
looking in the envelope?
To looking in the envelope.
Whatever the fuck that means.