All language subtitles for Hitchcock s03e04 The Life Work Of Juan Diaz

Good evening.

I trust I didn't frighten you unduly.

I customarily pop up much more quickly,
but my spring is bent.

I also hope you will excuse this rather
light -hearted opening for our show.

But tonight's story is somewhat
different than usual.

I thought that my usual gallows humor,
might not be suitable.

Our story takes place in Mexico.

It concerns death and burial and tells
of an eerie battle between a grave

digger and a courageous woman. It
follows in 60 seconds.

going to be a great prophet.

The best ever.

For the day of the dead.

Sit.

Rest. The prophet is nothing.

The saint is nothing if you are here.

I tripped.

I will go for the doctor.

Jorge, stay with your father.

Go to the house.

There is some medicine in a bottle.

The bottle is empty.

No, no, no. There is some left.

Go.

Quickly.

You have been

visitors to the kingdom of the dead.

Wasn't that everything that I told you
it would be?

Terrible.

Thank you, I guess.

By the sound of the footsteps, is that
not Juan Diaz?

I always guess right.

I can tell the sound of all my people.

We are not your people. You will be
soon.

Well... Alejandro.

to pay rent on a grave?

This grave?

Perhaps the next one you dig.

Which will be tomorrow.

Tomorrow?

My graves are expensive to rent.

Three pesos for a month.

But if you want to rent for a year, I
give you a real bargain. Thirty pesos

the whole year.

Fifty pesos for two years.

You see what a kind man I am, lowering
my prices.

Of course, most people who cannot afford
to buy a grave are right. That is why

most of them are wealthy, as you know.
You are a rich man.

You are a Christian man.

And I know you will give me two full
years of rent for... 40 pesos?

Alejandro, are you listening?

Yes, I'm listening. You have 40 pesos.
Yes.

You have it with you? Yes.

Here.

Ah, bring it down.

Bring it down.

Bring it down.

Bury the catacombs?

Come in.

If you want to make a deal on your
terms, it must be on my territory.

Come in, or go away.

Is that you?

Alejandro?

Me and my friends.

Have you met them?

Jose Morales. You remember Jose?

He couldn't keep the payments on his
grave, so I brought him down here with

other mummies.

Carlotta Ruiz. She was before your time.

Has been here 40 years.

Hello, Carlotta!

Antonio Reyes.

You remember? He was killed by the bull.

His wife could not pay the rent on his
grave, so here he is.

Josefina Cantina?

Chico Romero, Angelica Gomez, this
friend is Juan

Villar.

Do you know what makes my mummies the
only ones outside of Egypt that are so

fine?

It is the earth, the dry earth and the
dry air.

here in this one city in all of Mexico.

Put a man in this earth for one year,
and when you take him out, he's cured

a harvest of tobacco.

He will last forever.

He will last forever.

Listen.

Alejandro, the money.

Two years, you promised.

At that time, my wife will save enough
money to pay for another two years for

grave above.

Why do you not want to spend the rest of
your unworldly life down here with my

friends one day?

I do not like this place.

All right. Two years, I promise.

Are you afraid?

Afraid of my friends?

Only of you.

Only of you.

Huh?

What?

What on the earth?

Juan Diaz, is everything all right?

Maria? I'm here.

Did the doctor pass?

No, no. He has come and gone.

Gone?

Already?

So everything was quickly now.

Wait. Wait now.

The important things I have heard from
you always.

What has our marriage been? But hunger
and sickness are now nothing.

Nothing!

My good friend, my crops failed.

They growed.

I was a bad mechanic and I couldn't work
in a factory.

You had not the strength. I couldn't
make the sweetest carrot of candies.

The sweetest cars.

Sweet as they are.

And then I let a whole lot of sugar
skulls fall.

And what did I succeed?

You have lit candles in the world.

And these.

And these.

Today not shine.

This house has no mirrors.

Yet has mirrors.

Do you not see yourself here?

Oh, yes.

I had two years afraid of my grave. Two
years.

Don't let a grave digger cheat you.

Remember. I shall remember.

In the name of the saints.

Only in death I might be with you.

Only in death I might provide.

Bring food.

From beyond the grave.

These were the hat I wear for you.

These are only words.

Good words, Juan.

Now I... I shall take three beds, Maria.

Deep breaths.

You hear me?

You see this?

You have been dead one year. One?

One year and five days.

Was it a good year?

Huh?

Bad.

You do not know bad yet.

I will teach you.

This is your contract with me?

Done.

Now, we shall see each other face to
face.

No.

First I go.

You wait for me, huh?

You say you will.

Excellent.

Maria Diaz?

Wife of Juan Diaz?

Yes, still the wife of Juan Diaz. You
know me. Speak.

The year is up.

The year?

The year.

The year upon the grave.

What grave?

What grave?

One other grave is there in the whole
world besides the grave of Juan Diaz.

May his soul continue to rest there, all
being well, and the new rent money in

hand. Juan said on his deathbed, too, he
paid you for two years' rent upon his

grave. One year.

Unless, of course, you have signed
paper.

Paper?

What paper? No paper.

There was no time.

He was gone before such a paper could be
signed.

One year, signora.

And I have already give you five days'
grace.

You have the money now?

No, I don't.

Hey,

Maria, my sister.

Over here, little one. Come in, come in.

Ricardo. Che, come on, come on. Sit
down.

What is the matter, huh?

Sit down.

What is the matter? What is wrong? You
look like a... Ricardo, you must help

Tonight, he will take Juan out of the
air.

Did the year pass so swiftly then?

Did the rent indeed come due on his
grave?

Maria, open it.

Nothing. And nothing and still nothing.

So I cannot give you money.

What else can a brother do?

But you are more than a brother.

You are the chief of the police.

Maria, the law stops at the edge of the
grave.

You will give me a few weeks, a few days
even.

Time, Ricardo.

Time to find money.

Time.

I will walk to the mouth of the
catacomb.

I will spit in it.

But our Maria do not expect to spit ever
to hit bottom.

We will hear no echo.

The catacomb is very deep.

Who am I to lose myself under the earth?

By what authority do I have to question
the dead or the keeper of the dead?

Let me close my nakedness.

Thus.

Is

that

Ricardo, the chief of all our police?

And Maria Diaz?

And her son?

It is not often that I have such an
audience.

Stop digging.

There is a funeral tomorrow, and the
grave must be open and empty already.

No one has died.

Someone always dies.

The graveyard is small. There is not
much room.

All tenants must be evicted.

I am a kind landlord, but... Be still
more kind.

Chief of police.

There are two countries, eh? Your
country and my country.

The land of the living and this land
here of the dead.

Of the two, the land beyond the gate is
filled with quarrels and orders. It is

not for me.

I prefer my own population of the quiet
and the silent ones.

The uncomplaining and the unquarelsome
ones.

who order no orders and criticize no
criticisms.

Just as you do not like me to conduct
funerals in your municipal office, I do

not welcome judges and juries and the
rattling of the law in this place where,

after all, who can hear?

Please hear, God help them.

Now you hear me.

Inside of this woman and this boy, how
can you desecrate the man's final bed?

Oh, no, no.

He was but a traveler in death's kingdom
who paused to rest a while here in this

little room.

But there are many travelers beating
upon the door.

They, too, in need of such rooms.

Their fists clenched with money. Am I to
turn away the weary travelers because

this one forgetfully writes his contract
in the dust?

Old man, why do you call me old? Do you
hope that I will die before you?

I will outlive you, chief of police, and
what then?

Then? Then, on that day, someday or
soon, when they bring your body here

to me.

What when I have to bury you? What when
you fall in my hands, my

law, on my land?

You dog, you threaten me.

No, no.

I only say that the graveyard is small
and the cutter comes deep and the

gears... I long after you die, Chief of
Police, you may stay here with me

for a long while.

What would you do?

Hide me in a far part of the catacomb?

Sit me, a mummy, at a table? Drink with
me? Hang me by my hair?

Throw my bones to the dogs?

Get ink for writing out of my skull?

I do not say that.

You say that.

And while you say, I think.

Good night, Ricardo.

Good night, Maria.

Good night, boy.

Not good night.

The night is bad.

This is horny.

I've got you, Deesh.

I will not let them do this to you,
father. I will do something.

I will be back.

I promise.

Oh, I promise.

circumstances beyond our control.

We must interrupt to bring you the
following station break.

We shall continue in a few moments.

Please bear with us.

Who's there?

Who's there?

Who dares to enter my dance?

Who dares?

Are you there?

Are you there?

Of course you are there.

You have always been there.

You will be there forever.

Oh, this is the best part of my day and
life.

Oh, to speak and have no one shout back.

Oh, the silence, and the silence, and
the silence.

I touch it, so I'm done.

I'm done.

Lombardo, good evening.

Serafina.

Pablo.

Greetings.

Greetings, my friend.

Would you like to speak?

Yes.

What would you like to tell me?

If you could speak...

What would you tell me?

Would you tell me how much you love me?

Yes, love me.

Alejandro, the keeper of dry souls.

Because if you don't love me, well, you
are no burden.

Death has rendered you down to mere
wheat chaff, the husk of dry, dead corn.

I could lift any one of you with my
fingers thus.

Any one of you who gives me trouble, I
could toss like clay into the wind.

You would blow away like dust.

Do you protest, Wandias? Do you call out
against me?

Do you, from your cold eyes, hate me?

Well, I challenge you, Wandias.

I dare you.

She's the gravedigger.

Cut her and choke him. Kill him to
death.

There you go, Alejandro.

Time for bed.

Too much drink.

Slowly now.

Don't run.

We care.

This foot, and then that.

And this foot, and then that.

And this foot, and then that. And this
foot,

and then that.

We cannot escape.

He will be waiting up there. Watch.

Maria, forgive the hour. Forgive
nothing. Let us in. Let us in. Yes.

The law of the living first. Then the
law of the dead.

Shh. The children sleep.

I cannot sleep.

You have stolen from me. Arrest her.

There.

Maria. We have no mummy here.

We did not say a mummy was missing.

We said nothing.

How could you know that we would say a
body was gone unless you stole it

yourself, you see?

What else could one steal from the land
of the dead?

True. She makes a fine point.

Still, my dear sister, I feel I must
ask.

What is that which leans against the far
wall?

That? Yes, that.

That!

Oh, to celebrate the festival of the day
of our dear dead one.

I have taken paper and flour and clay
and made of it a life -size toy, which

looks like the mom is from the catacomb.

Have you indeed done this, Maria? No,
no, I tell you. With your permission,

Maria. You need a light. Be better.

Ah.

So?

So? With this papier -mâché, mommy, this
toy, I plan... Plan?

What plan?

It is a plan whereby this toy will
provide money to Edward.

Would you deny my children this?

I would deny your children nothing that
is rightfully theirs.

A toy?

A death toy?

Surely the largest tattoo I've ever
seen.

I stand in awe of your talent, Maria.

A talent for thievery.

This is no toy!

Do you swear, Maria, that this is papier
-mâché?

By diversion, I swear.

By diversion?

Well, then, what more need be said?

Mine! Mine! My property!

The toy, if it is a toy and made by me,
must surely belong to me.

And even, even if it is not a toy, and
it's indeed Juan Díaz who has come home,

why then does not Juan Díaz belong first
to God?

How can one argue that?

I argue. And after God, in God's eyes,
and at God's altar, and in God's

church, on one of God's holiest
afternoons, Did not Juan Díaz say that

be mine through his days?

Ah, there you are. Throughout his days.

His days are over.

Now he is mine.

So, let me leave.

God's property first.

Then, María Díaz's property.

That is, if this toy is not a toy, and
it's Juan Díaz.

But, anyway, landlord of the dead, you
evicted your tenant.

You so much as said you did not want
him. But if you love him so dearly and

his return, will you pay the rent now
due and tenant him again?

I pay... the law.

The law. The law.

Gravekeeper, I see many long months and
many fine points of law.

Many lawyers and judges...

Many issues to argue now. This way and
that.

Which include real estate, toy
manufacturers, Maria, God, Juan Diaz,

he is.

Hungry children.

The conscience of the keeper of graves.

And so much complication that this
business will suffer.

Are you prepared for long years of
litigation in court?

I am prepared, my good man.

The other night, you gave me some small
advice, which now I return to you.

I do not direct the traffic of the dead.

Now, you must not patrol the traffic of
my living.

Your jurisdiction ends at the Tumiar
Gate.

So, I pronounce this officially.

Faith and thought, not a mummy.

Come along, cold one.

Back to your proper country, eh?

Maria, good night.

Children of Maria, good night. Sleep.

You go.

I go.

But what about him?

Well, Juan Diaz goes nowhere.

He will be here if still you wish to sue
in court, eh?

You see him running, dancing, escaping?

You do not.

Maria.

Come on.

Come along, cold one.

Juan Díaz, do you see?

Do you know?

Do you truly understand?

We are in the town, on the way to the
graveyard.

It's easier to find many tourists coming
this way.

They... When you said, if only in death,
you might be

with us.

You said, if only in death you might
bring food,

if but one of your hands might work for
us.

So, Juan, Juan,

do you forgive me for bringing you here?

Do you forgive me?

Do you forgive me?

This commercial must be seen from the
beginning.

Therefore, no one will be seated after
it starts.