Ok, back to
London Spy's
Blue,
which is rife and rich with blue allusions:
London Spy
Episode 3
"Blue"
(Scottie's house. It is raining. Scottie is sadly staring out the window.
After just learning the horrifying discovery that Danny, unbelievably, is HIV seropositive,
Danny is desperate and crying; he has realized what has been done to him.)
Danny (Ben Whishaw): When they took--my blood at the police station,
they must have injected me at the same time.
Danny: The--the virus can't--can't survive outside the body. They must have, um--
They must have kept it heated?
And I, I, I, I know that--it takes more than six weeks for it to show up on the test and--
it wasn't that long ago but they must have--I don't know, I don't know how they did it. I--
(He sighs.)
But they did it! They did it.
(He sniffs and then sobs.)
Scottie--you have to believe me! Please. Please!
Scottie (Jim Broadbent): I remember taking you to hospital--all those years ago.
There was a chance you'd been infected. We barely knew each other.
You were so young. More child than adult.
I made you promise never to take a risk like that again.
Danny: Scottie, I swear!
Scottie: You promised. You promised me.
Danny: I never broke that promise. I swear to you!
If you don't believe me, I don't have anyone else, Scottie, I don't have anyone else!
You have to believe.
Scottie: I believe you. I knew you were a young man who'd make a lot of mistakes.
But never the same one twice. I believe you.
I believe they deliberately infected you. Not to kill you, obviously.
With medication, you'll live a long and normal life.
They did it to discredit you.
They'll say you took risks with your own health.
You were reckless--and irresponsible.
Perhaps they'll even say that you infected Alex.
Danny: No. He, he was--
Scottie: He was negative. But what will the test say?
The story of you two has been written. It was written many months ago.
A sordid tale--the details of which will leak out into the public sphere.
People will recoil.
Many will think you got what you deserved.
No one will campaign for answers. No one will demand justice.
Danny: These people--
Scottie: Yes.
Danny: They'd do anything.
Danny: These people--
Scottie: Yes.
Danny: They'd do anything.
Scottie: Yes.
Danny: I can't--
Scottie: No.
Danny: I loved him. I loved him very much. I can't fight them.
Scottie: A long time ago, I had a lover. He was an aspiring artist.
Quite promising. Extraordinarily beautiful.
1983. He was one of the first in London to fall ill.
Back then, it didn't even have a name.
There was no information. No leaflets. No warnings. No answers.
You'd watch the news and hear no mention of it. A secret plague.
I'd visit him as often as I could, with as much fresh fruit and vegetables as I could carry.
He'd been given a book on colour therapy.
In it, blue was described as having healing properties.
Blue... blue alone, was able to fight infections. Blue... blue alone, could save him.
Blue.
No doubt the idea appealed to his artistic sensibilities.
Back then, mysticism and magic stood in for medicine.
He wouldn't accept the fresh fruit and vegetables because they weren't blue.
But, since water was blue, he eventually agreed to take a bath.
I told him that he'd given up. He must fight.
He refused.
He said that I'd never faced the inevitability of defeat.
He was going to die. He was going to suffer, suffer terribly.
There was nothing he could do. There was nothing anyone could do.
He was right. On both counts. He did suffer terribly.
And I have never faced the inevitability of defeat.
It is impossible.
We will lose.
But we will fight.
