Billy Elliot (2000) Poster



Tutor 1: What does it feel like when you're dancing?

Billy: Don't know. Sorta feels good. Sorta stiff and that, but once I get going... then I like, forget everything. And... sorta disappear. Sorta disappear. Like I feel a change in my whole body. And I've got this fire in my body. I'm just there. Flyin' like a bird. Like electricity. Yeah, like electricity.

Billy: Just because I like ballet doesn't mean I'm a poof, you know.

[Billy is dancing while walking]

Dad: Is that absolutely necessary? Walk normal!

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

Mrs. Wilkinson: No, Billy. Funnily enough, I don't. Now piss off!

Billy: [smiling] Piss off yourself.

Mrs. Wilkinson: This'll sound strange, Billy, but for some time now I've been thinkin' of the Royal Ballet School.

Billy: Aren't you a bit old, miss?

Mrs. Wilkinson: No, not me... you! I'm the bloody teacher!

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

Grandma: I used to go to ballet.

Billy: See?

Dad: All right for your Nana, for girls. No, not for lads, Billy. Lads do football... or boxing... or wrestling. Not friggin' ballet.

NCB Official: Can you tell us why you first became interested in ballet?

Billy: Don't know.


Billy: Just was.

NCB Official: Well was there any particular aspect of the ballet which caught your imagination?

Billy: The dancin'.

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

Tony: What are you after like, a list?

Debbie: If you want, I'll show you me fanny.

Billy: Nah, I'm all right.

[at the theatre]

Tony: What the bloody hell are you doing here?

Michael (Aged 25): I wouldn't have missed it for the world.

Billy: I think I'm scared, Dad.

Dad: That's okay, son. We're all scared.

Billy: Well... if I don't like it, can I still come back?

Dad: Are you kidding? We've let out your room.

[straight face then laughter]

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

Billy: No she was just me mam.

Billy: My hands are freezing.

Michael: 'Gizzem here.

Billy: [Michael takes his hands and puts them in his jacket] What are you doing?

Michael: Nothin'. Just warmin' your hands up.

Billy: [pause] You're not a poof or owt?

Michael: [deadpan] What gave you that impression?

Billy: Aren't me hands cold?

Michael: I quite like it.

[kisses Billy on the cheek; they stare at each other]

Billy: Just because I like ballet, doesn't mean I'm a poof, you know.

Michael: You won't tell anyone, will you?

Billy: [pauses, then grins] Come on.

Michael: [stares after him longingly]

Michael: Oi! Dancing boy!

Dad: [Billy turns around and starts running to him] We'll miss the bus, Billy!

Tony: Can you stop being an old fucking woman?

Billy: [approaches Michael, then after a moment, kisses him on the cheek] See you then.

[smiles and runs off]

Mrs. Wilkinson: Find a place on that bloody wall and focus on that spot. Then whip your head 'round and come back to that spot. Prepare!

Mrs. Wilkinson: Right, Mr. Braithwaite, "The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow".

[to herself]

Mrs. Wilkinson: Fat chance!

Billy: So what about your mother? Does she have sex?

Debbie: No, she's unfulfilled. That's why she dances.

Billy: She dances instead of sex? Your family's weird!

Billy: All right, all right, don't lose your blob!

Dad: I'm bustin' my ass for those 50 pences and you're - look, from now on, you stay here and look out for your Nana. Got that? Good.

Grandma: They used to say I could have been a professional dancer if I'd had the trainin'!


Billy: I hate you! You're a bastard!

Mrs. Wilkinson: Please yourself, darlin'.

[Billy falls to an opponent at boxing]

George: Jesus Christ, Billy Elliot! You're a disgrace to them gloves, your father, and the traditions of this boxing hall!

Tony: You're a ballet dancer, then let's be havin' it!

Billy: So, what's it like, like?

Dad: What's what like?

Billy: London.

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

Billy: Have you never been?

Dad: Why would I want to go to London?

Billy: It's the capital city!

Dad: Well, there are no mines in London.

Billy: Jesus Christ, is that all you think about?

Billy: Tony, do you ever think about death?

Tony: Fuck off.

Mrs. Wilkinson: So. Do we get the pleasure of your company next week?

Billy: It's just, I feel like a right sissy.

Mrs. Wilkinson: Well don't act like one. 50p please. And if you're not coming again give us your shoes.

Billy: [thinks] No, you're all right.

Mrs. Wilkinson: Right.

Gary Poulson: What are you deeing man? This is hand to hand combat not a bloody tea dance!

Debbie: Dad did it with this woman from work but they don't think I know.

Michael: So you're going to ballet every week?

Billy: Aye, but don't say owt.

Michael: Do you get to wear a tutu?

Billy: Fuck off, they're only for lasses. I wear me shorts.

Michael: You ought to ask for a tutu?

Billy: I'd look a right dickhead.

Michael: I think you'd look wicked.

Tony: Dance you little twat!

George: [to the boxing class] I'm going to let Mrs. Wilkinson use the bottom end of the boxing hall for her ballet lessons. So no hanky-panky, understood?

Mr. Braithwaite: You look like a right wanker to me, son.

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Billy: I don't want to do your stupid fucking audition! You only want me to do it for your own benefit!

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Michael: Oi, dancing boy!

[Billy runs to Michael]

Dad: We'll miss the bus, Billy!

Tony: Will you stop being an old fucking woman?

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Mrs. Wilkinson: What have I told you about that arm?

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Tony: Have you been playing my records you little twat?

Billy: I never played nowt.

Tony: Nob'ed.

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