Original subtitles

Thank you.

Good morning, boss. Good morning, Tattoo.

Smiles, everyone.

Smiles.

Who is that beautiful lady, boss?

She should dress very well.

Well, she should, the two.

Miss Erica Nelson is an executive for a New York fashion magazine.

What's her fantasy?

Her fantasy is to be reunited with her fiancé, Dr. Richard Yates.

Apparently he went to work in a clinic in Mexico and disappeared without a

trace. Do you know where he is?

Oh, yes.

I know where he is.

But I am not at all sure I know what he is.

Who are they, boss? The gentleman is none other than Mr. Stuart Wharton. The

lady is his wife, Mrs. Margaret Wharton. Stuart Wharton?

The famous writer who writes all these children's books?

That's right. In fact, he's giving a lecture tomorrow night on the subject of

his latest book, which is titled Little Patrick, the Perfect Child.

A lecture?

You mean they're not here for a fantasy?

Oh, indeed they are. Mr.

Wharton once spent two days with a perfect child he has just created in his

imagination. You see, the Whartons have no children.

How can he write about the perfect child if he does not have any children of his

own?

That's right. Which is why Mrs. Wharton is looking forward to her husband's

fantasy with some amusement.

Neither of them has any idea that it's a fantasy that could destroy their

marriage.

My dear guests, I am Mr. Rourke, your host.

Welcome to Fantasy Island.

Tell me more about Richard, Miss Nelson.

You see, Richard specializes in tropical medicine.

That's why he was so excited about working with a doctor as famous as Louis

Christophe. But in the last letter he wrote me, he said that Christophe was a

fraud and that he intended to expose him.

The last letter?

And you haven't heard from him since?

No. No, all my letters were returned unopened.

And then I discovered that the clinic where Richard and Christophe were

had been closed down, suddenly with no forwarding address.

I've been sick with worry, Mr. Rock.

I was so relieved when I heard from you.

Again, Miss Nelson, all I know for certain is that Dr. Christophe recently

purchased an old cobra plantation on one of our outer islands, and that a man

fitting your fiancé's description is with him.

Tell me, how long will it take me to get there?

About two hours. But I must warn you, the natives of Baraga Island, that's

you're going, are extremely superstitious. I'm afraid I can't

safety.

The only thing I care about at this point is finding Richard.

Very well.

You'll be on your own once you get there.

Good luck, Miss Nelson.

Thank you.

Be careful.

Take care of yourself.

Yes, I will

Does this work?

I should have killed you.

Erica.

Richard. Oh, my God.

Erica.

Look, I don't know how you found me, but you're going to have to leave.

Now.

Erica Nelson, isn't it?

I've seen your photo.

And, of course, Richard here talks of nothing but you.

I'm Dr. Louis Christophe.

How do you do?

She must be very tired, Richard.

Why don't you ask Miss Nelson if she'd like to rest a while?

Erica, would you like to rest?

Yes, Richard.

I'd love to.

Good.

Come along, then.

I believe you were about to say something, Mr. Wharton.

Would it help if I described the perfect child to you again, Mr. Roark?

Actually, I should warn you that... You see, obviously it could be either a boy

or a girl, but for our purposes, let's make it a boy. I would say, oh, about

years old, well -groomed, manners of a little gentleman. Stuart.

So, amiable disposition.

Look. Oh, respectful of his elders.

What is it, Margaret? Don't interrupt.

Studious. What, Margaret, what?

How do you do, Mr. Wharton?

Mrs. Wharton? How do you do?

It is certainly a pleasure to meet you.

I've heard so much about you.

Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, young fellow. Yeah.

What's your name?

Patrick, sir.

Patrick?

Patrick?

As in your book, Patrick the Perfect Child.

Well, Patrick, you ready to have some fun?

I could hardly have anything else if I met you and Mrs. Wharton, sir.

Oh, Patrick.

Perfect in every way. Roark, you're incredible.

I'm afraid, Mr. Wharton, Patrick here is merely a figment of your imagination.

But what?

Finding a real child who embodies all the qualities you just enumerated proved

impossible.

I don't understand.

However, I have located a child who I believe is perfectly suited to fulfill

your fantasy.

Mr. Roark! Mr.

Roark! He's going to cram me!

It's all right, I do. It's all right.

It's all right, I say.

Mrs. Wharton, Mr. Wharton, may I present Andy, your son, for this week.

This is Esther, my housekeeper.

She'll take you upstairs and find a dress suitable for dinner.

By the way, she's deaf and dumb.

Go on upstairs.

Richard will join you in a moment.

Why don't you let her go?

She doesn't know anything.

A woman of her beauty, Richard?

The answer to that question is obvious.

Don't you touch her.

Your choice is very simple.

Either she stays here and you tell her nothing of my activities or I'm going to

turn her into what you are.

Do you understand me?

I am so sorry for the inconvenience, Mr. Wharton, Mrs. Wharton.

It isn't very often, I assure you, that my staff forgets to give our guests keys

to their bungalow.

But I'm only human, you know.

Don't worry about it, Mr. Rourke. You gave Andy and me the chance to discuss

counterproductive nature of his recent displays of aggressive behavior.

Huh? I was telling you why you shouldn't throw rocks anymore, Andy.

Oh.

Well, here we are.

I thought you would find it well worth the wait. Oh, I'm sure we will, yes.

Thank you so much.

Holy smoke.

Oh, my goodness. It certainly is a mess, isn't it, Andy?

This place looks like a store after the gypsies moved out.

Hey, look at that beach, boss.

Andy, it's so big. Isn't that wonderful, darling?

I suppose, the two of you have a good reason for neglecting to have the

clean. You bet I do, boss.

I forgot to do that, too.

Well, will you take care of it at once, please?

Oh, don't worry, Mr. Rourke. Don't worry. We'll have this place pick and

ourselves in no time.

Do it, darling. Do we have to pick and span right now? Well, now, there's no

time like the present market. You know what I always say. A little work is good

for the body and soul. Body and soul.

Yes, I know.

Hey, if you'll excuse us that one, I will be on our way.

Oh, fine, Mr. Rourke. Thank you. Thank you so much.

Now we're going to have a lot of fun, Andy.

Waiting this place up. You start over there.

I'll be right back, darling. Would you excuse me, Andy?

Sure.

Okay, you pick that one. Oh, smoke.

Mrs.

Wharton, you may be interested to know that Andy has no living parents. He's an

orphan.

Meaning that if we wanted to, we could adopt him? That's right, providing, of

course, that Andy agreed.

Dear, I certainly hope that Stuart doesn't ruin everything with his

perfectionism.

Well, thank you very much again.

Will I see you tomorrow night at Stuart's lecture?

Oh, most assuredly.

Good. Bye -bye. Goodbye, Miss Wharton.

place.

Erica, just let me hold you. I've missed you so much.

But then why haven't you written? Why haven't you called?

Look, we're supposed to be getting married, remember?

No.

Erica, I can't.

Not anymore.

What are you talking about?

Three months ago we were so happy and now it's over.

I'm not the same man I was three months ago, Erica.

Listen.

I don't know what you've been through.

But I'm here.

And I'm going to stay here until you're well again.

I'm not going to let you be destroyed like everyone else around him.

I don't understand what you're talking about, Richard. You've got to explain to

me. There's not time for talk, Erica.

I'm going to get you out of here now.

No.

I am not leaving here without you.

Don't you understand? I love you.

No! Face the face! No!

I can't breathe!

Richard!

Richard! I can't breathe!

Okay, Andy, it's your turn.

I can't. I ain't never played before.

I have never played before.

Yeah, you have. You just did.

That's not what I meant, Andy. I was correcting your grammar.

Oh.

So, what kind of instrument do you play?

Nothing. I don't play nothing. I mean, I don't play no instrument.

I don't play any instrument.

You did okay on the piano.

That's not what I meant, Andy.

Look, you're ten years old. You must play some sort of instrument.

Does Pac -Man count?

No.

Come here. Sit down.

You see, in my book, titled Little Patrick the Perfect

Child, I say that as a means of perfecting himself, every child should

musical instrument.

Now, it's through the arts, you see, that we exercise our creative potential.

Now, you've told me you're not interested. Would you stop doing that,

Thank you. You've told me you're not interested in singing, dancing,

and so forth?

Mm -hmm. Okay, very good. And believe it or not, I'm going to instruct you how

to play the piano.

What? I want you to stretch yourself, to grow.

Develop your versatility. That's not so hard to understand, is it?

It is for me.

I don't even know what versatility is.

Versibility is dope. Never mind.

What are you getting so mad about?

Angry. What?

I'm not mad.

I'm angry.

Why? Because I'm trying to teach you something and you're not listening.

I am too listening. I'm doing most of the listening and you're doing most of

talking. You're the one who don't listen.

I'm the one who doesn't listen.

That's what I'm trying to tell you.

The most provocative woman on my island.

I'm not interested in flattery, Doctor.

You still haven't told me what's wrong with Richard.

Erica, when Richard and I were in Mexico, he contracted a rare strain of

malaria, which is why I brought him here, because I want to take care of

That's not what he told me.

Erica, you saw the way he collapsed earlier.

He's feverish. His mind isn't working.

He's not thinking clearly.

I think I'd better go upstairs.

Erica! Richard needs his sleep.

And you and I need to talk.

You know, this plantation is going to make me a very wealthy man.

I'm renewing the land here.

I've gathered a workforce about me. Soon this house will be filled with

treasures and antiquities, and then...

The only thing that I'm going to lack will be a beautiful woman to share all

this with.

I believe that woman is you.

What?

What is it?

I think your imagination is beginning to rival your beauty.

Erica, forget Richard. You heard what I said. You belong with me.

Let me go!

You've done something to him, and I swear I'm gonna find out what

Your

old

man sure been in there a long time mm -hmm

Andy, darling, you've hardly touched that ice cream cone.

Come on.

Tell me what's wrong.

I know who he's talking to Mr. Work about.

What?

He's telling him he don't want me around no more.

Oh, no, he isn't, sweetheart. No, no, no, no, no. He's just making

Ah.

Andy, you'll be spending the rest of the weekend here with me, and Monday you'll

go back to the orphanage.

I'm sorry.

Richard? Richard, where are you going?

Richard, come back!

Richard, I want her.

I thought you might be upset over this thing with the boy. Me, upset?

Why in the world would a little thing like that upset me?

I mean, after all, you're the expert when it comes to children, aren't you,

sweetheart? Did you mean anything in particular by that last remark?

Of course not, darling.

Oh, maybe I used to feel that your perfectionism was a pain in the neck,

don't feel that way anymore.

Good. The pain is much lower down now. It just so happens there's a perfectly

logical explanation for my actions.

Oh, what's that?

A frontal lobotomy? Now, just a moment. I... What are you doing?

Well, I really can't be certain. After all, I'm not the expert, but I believe

I'm packing.

Why? Where are you going? To another bungalow to keep a certain ten -year

boy company.

He may not be the perfect child, but at least he doesn't go around dressed up

like an adult.

Margaret, you're not even making any sense.

Oh, damn it!

If you weren't so busy going around straightening paintings and correcting

grammar and squeezing toothpaste tubes from the bottom, maybe you could see

other people besides yourself have needs.

Like me.

And that broken -hearted little boy you left with Mr. Roark.

There! That'll give you something to do while I'm gone!

It's all right. It's all right.

Something terrible's happened to Richard.

Christopher's turned him into some kind of monster.

That's precisely why I'm here, Miss Nelson.

To warn you that Dr. Christopher is a practitioner of voodoo.

A black art that turns its victims into the walking dead. Yes, I'm sorry.

But there is still hope.

They believe the transformation is not final until the full moon reaches its

zenith. That will happen tonight.

Is there anything I can do?

According to Woodbury Leaves, there is an antidote.

This salt, very rare, but found on Fantasy Island, must touch the zombie's

and if administered without fear, without fear,

the victim will be released from the spell.

Remember, Miss Delson, the key is belief.

Not only Richard's, but yours as well.

Believing yourself.

Believing your intelligence and your love for him.

These are your weapons.

If they fail, you will not leave this island alive.

Mr. Rourke, I... You cold?

Oh, swell.

Okay, hot shot.

It's your deal. And this time, prepare to die.

It's open.

Well,

like I must have missed the typhoon.

Stick around. We're expecting a cold front.

Now, Margaret, that's enough of this nonsense. Why don't you just stop all

and come back to me?

Andy, darling, that's your cue.

Now, Stuart, you listen to me.

For the first time in my life, I am doing something for me, and I'm having a

ball. I am perfectly happy. Happy? Happy, yes.

That's ridiculous. This whole place looks like a vacation resort for Attila

Hun. Really?

I think it's very creative.

Creative, huh? Let me tell you something, Margaret. You spend one more

that child, you're going to be climbing the wall. What, some cookies?

We made them fresh.

They're burned on the bottom.

Margaret, I don't understand this. We've always been so happy together.

Oh, no.

No, Stuart, you've always been happy. You never asked about me. No, never. All

you did was assume that whatever you wanted, I would want it too.

How about a golf drink?

Andy, can't you see that Mrs.

Wharton and I are having a little discussion?

All right.

Now, Stuart, if... I say

if...

We are going to stay together. We're going to have to change a few things.

Change? Change, yes.

Why? Why?

Because if we don't change, we don't grow, and neither does the marriage. Oh,

Stuart, we are stagnating.

Stagnating? You know, Margaret, if you were a character in one of my books,

nobody would believe you.

Well, you'd better believe me, mister, and if you don't, there's the door.

All right.

Richard?

Welcome back.

What have you done with Richard?

You know what I've done with Richard.

You saw it last night.

Forget Richard, he's dead.

You'd like me to believe that, wouldn't you?

That you can stick pins into dolls and make people grovel at your feet.

Well, I don't believe it.

I don't believe you have power over anyone.

All right, I'll prove to you that I do.

I'll take you to see Richard.

And then you'll see that my power is all too real.

All right, here it comes.

Nice catch. All right.

Well, Mr. Wharton, I see your wife is getting along splendidly with Andy.

Yes, which brings up an interesting question.

Exactly whose fantasy is this, anyway?

Why, yours, of course.

Oh, really?

Well... I asked for a perfect child. Instead, you give me Godzilla in marital

strife. All I want is perfection, and everything is falling apart.

Are you sure?

Am I sure?

See for yourself. Look around. This whole thing is a mess.

Ah, yes, you like everything in its proper place, don't you, Gordon?

Except when it comes to yourself.

What?

Well, I'm suggesting that perhaps it's time for you to look inwardly.

To at least consider the possibility that there are answers hiding in your

you have yet to discover.

What's that supposed to mean?

Simply that the problem is a little boy.

But it's not Andy.

It's the little boy in you.

Find him, Mr. Wilson.

Learn from him.

He has answers you will find most revealing.

Will you excuse me?

If you stop...

Richard, darling,

I can help you.

Ah!

Ah! You want to use this?

Please. I'll do anything you want.

Just let Richard go.

It's too late for that.

Bodies of the night.

Bodies of the night.

Arise.

Where's the little homewrecker?

He and Tattoo are out looking for nightcrawlers. We're all going fishing.

Oh, I thought it was too quiet around here.

Oh, Stuart, really?

Sorry, I didn't mean to start an argument. I came here to, well, to talk.

So? Talk.

Here.

Margaret, this whole thing is ridiculous. Now, you and I have been

too long to let anything like this child break us up.

Stuart, darling, I like him.

A lot. And you know how much I've always wanted children.

Yes.

So, where do I fit in?

Why, as a father.

And you'd really make a great one.

Oh, you would, if you'd just forget all those theories about perfection and just

be the wonderful human being that you are.

Margaret, there's something I've never told anyone.

Not even you.

I did not have a perfect childhood. I did not have wonderful parents.

I was an orphan.

Bounced around from one foster home to another. I hated my childhood.

Stuart, just a minute. What about all those stories about your family? Lies.

Margaret, you're the first, well, the only person, really, in my whole life

who ever loved me.

Oh, Stuart.

Oh, Stuart, don't.

Now can you see how lonely Andy is and how much he needs us?

Of course I can.

But the thing is, every time I look at him, I see myself at his

age, and I remember.

I don't want to live with that kind of pain again, Margaret.

I love you, Stuart, and you know that.

But I just can't go back to things the way they were.

I'm going to adopt Andy with...

Or without you.

All set.

These tattoos hitting the boats and rods and reels and...

What's wrong?

Oh, nothing. Nothing, sweetheart. I was just crying because I'm so happy.

Oh, Annie, I always cry because I'm happy, sweetheart.

Hey.

Andy, how would you like to have a real home with a mother who's just dying to

have a little boy like you?

You talked him into it?

Oh, Margaret, you're great.

Well, to tell you the truth, sweetheart, I don't know if Stuart's ready to have

a little boy yet.

You need your father anyway.

A kid like me can't have everything.

They made a human sacrifice, and they poured the victim's blood on the ground

make it fertile again.

Richard!

Wait!

Wait!

Christopher!

I can see that now.

If you let me go... You had your chance.

But you said it yourself. You need someone to share your life.

You can sacrifice anyone to us.

But I can appreciate you.

I can love you.

I have the power here.

I command you to kill her.

Thank you very much for your applause.

I wish, first of all, to welcome you to the first annual conference on The

Perfect Child.

It's a pleasure, I must say, to be standing here this evening face -to

with so many of my readers and supporters.

Well, as I assume at least some of you know, in my latest book... Why, Mrs.

Wharton, Andy, I thought you were going night fishing. We were.

But children can be great teachers, Mr. Rourke. I thought Stuart was the one

being selfish.

But I was selfish, too.

Andy's a wonderful boy, but he needs both of us.

Well, enjoy the lecture, Mrs. Wharton, and, uh... Perfect, Charles, as a means

of... Good luck.

...dramatizing at least some of my theories about child -rearing and

Now, naturally, I'm aware that there is no true, literal perfection in the

universe, certainly not in human experience, anyway.

But, uh...

I believe that by holding up the highest possible standards, the standards of

perfection, you might say, for our children, we nevertheless...

We nevertheless possibly... Patrick.

How do you do, Mr. Wharton?

I'm so happy to see you again.

Oh, yes.

Well, now, I know that a lot of people are opposed to my

theory. Well, they say they're wrong, as a matter of fact. But I have seen the

perfect child.

And he's exactly what I wrote about.

The only problem is, he isn't real.

And that is

actually why I've agreed to give this lecture tonight, to tell you about a new

theory I've developed, a theory that refutes.

Everything I've ever written on the subject.

Now, striving for perfection isn't so bad.

That's not the problem. Doing that makes us reach higher and deeper into

ourselves.

But perfection needs nothing.

Perfect people wouldn't need other people.

Anybody who thinks he's perfect is likely to end up alone.

Go on, Stuart.

Oh, darling.

Go on.

Well, I guess what I really want to say is that the only thing that...

The only thing in the world that really approaches perfection is love.

And I'd appreciate it if you, both of you, would give me a chance to prove

that.

Oh, Stuart.

Oh, Andy.

So will we tattoo?

Thank you, Mr. Ward, for giving Erica the antidote. Even though I never got a

chance to use it.

Oh, but you did use it, Miss Nelson. I don't mean assault. I mean your belief

yourself and your love for Dr. Yates. That was the antidote.

Have a happy life together.

Thank you.

You're welcome.

Here you are, dear. Thank you, dear. Thank you so much. All right, Mr. Roark,

thank you very much indeed.

Tattoo?

Uh, what's that?

Oh, well, I'm afraid Andy's aim was off again, so I took the liberty of adding

the cost of a second new window to your bill.

All right, young man, that's going to come straight out of your allowance.

Dad! I know nobody's perfect, but you can try, okay?

Okay. Attaboy. Come on up here. I'll give you a horseback ride down to the

Ah, wonderful. Thanks again for a great time.

Yes, sir. There we go. Okay, coming, Margaret?

Yes, dear, in just a second. Well, as you can see, we are now a family. Yes,

Miss Wharton. Thank you, Mr. Rourke and Tattoo. Thank you so much. You're very

welcome. Bye -bye. Goodbye.