Original subtitles

[engine hums]

♪ Supercar

♪ Supercar

♪ With beauty and grace

♪ As swift as can be

♪ Watch it flying through the air ♪

♪ It travels in space

♪ Or under the sea

♪ And it can journey anywhere

♪ Supercar

♪ Supercar

♪ It travels on land

♪ Or roams the skies

♪ Through a heaven's stormy rage ♪

♪ It's Mercury-manned

♪ And everyone cries

♪ It's the marvel of the age

♪ Supercar

♪ Supercar

♪ Supercar

[engine blasts]

[mellow music]

- Seven, eight,

10, 12, $1,300,

and all for the sale of a bunch of vogue or modern paintings

that pass as art. [laughs]

- Value, zero.

- For the genuine Harry S. Clinesworthy III?

My dear sir.

- Ah, knock it off, Steindorf.

The only thing you know about art

is scrawling on subway posters.

- Jody.

Jody Mettern.

- In person.

Well, it's a nice little racket you got here.

- But Jody, what a surprise.

I thought you were--

- You thought I was still in the state pen.

Yeah, but all good things come to an end, you know,

and here I am buying pictures.

- I didn't know you liked pictures, Jody.

- So now you know.

I got converted, see?

By your friend and mine, the late Bud Hassler.

- Hassler?

- Quite an artist, wasn't he?

When it came to painting dollar bills.

And before he passed away in the pen,

he told me where I could find the model he used.

- But he only painted landscapes.

As a matter of fact, I just sold one called Mexican Plane.

- You sold Mexican Plane?

- Yes, it surprised me too,

finding someone fool enough to buy such worthless trash.

- How could you be fool enough to sell?

- But Jody, I--

- That painting of a certain Mexican plane

shows the exact spot

where Hassler buried the counterfeit plates.

- Oh, no.

- I tell ya, yeah.

Now, quick, who bought it?

- A Dr. H. Beaker of Black Rock.

Will he let us have it, do you suppose?

- He'd better.

Or we may have to play it another way.

[dramatic music]

- Beginning to look a bit shabby, isn't she, Professor?

- Gee, I don't see anything wrong, Professor.

- It's not so bad as to be obvious, Jimmy,

but as Mike says, the gloss is fading.

- We'll have to do something about it, Professor.

Can't keep giving her a facelift every other week.

Suppose there's an emergency

and here we are waiting for the paint to dry.

- I wonder, since the fading is due to

excessive exposure to the rays of the sun,

perhaps we should try a filter varnish.

- How would that help, Professor?

- Well, by cutting out most of the ultraviolet--

- [Dr. Beaker] I say, Professor, Mike?

- Yes, Dr. Beaker?

- [Dr. Beaker] Can you spare a minute?

I have something remarkable here in the way of a painting.

- Trust Doc, he's been working on our problem

before we even knew we had one.

- We'll be right there, Doctor.

[comical music]

- Well, now, seriously.

What do you think of it?

[Mitch hoots]

I beg your pardon?

[Mitch hoots]

Oh come now, you're just saying that.

You need to consider it as a whole.

Take another look, my dear chap.

Does it not strike you as a fulfillment?

[Mitch screams]

I must say, Mitch, I am disappointed in you.

Obviously, you know nothing about art.

Hey, Mitch?

Mitch?

Bless my soul, he's gone.

- He just lit off after Jimmy.

Have you been scaring him with your experiments, Doc?

- No.

Just my painting.

- This?

This is your painting?

- Certainly.

- Well, now, and I quote, who's a fool?

Looks like we were building our hopes too high, Professor.

- But wait, stop.

Where are you off to?

- Sorry, Doc, we got a job to do.

- Without even looking at my picture?

And it's a genuine,

where's the signature now?

Yes.

A genuine Hassler.

- Very nice.

- A Hassler, uh-huh, so?

- But have you no soul?

Can you not spare the time to stand there

and inhale its beauty?

- Oh, I've inhaled okay.

And I think it stinks.

- All right, scoff if you like.

But here in this antiseptic and mechanical atmosphere,

I intend to keep alight the beacon of culture.

- Good for you, Doc.

But meanwhile, we've got some serious painting to do.

[dramatic music] - Serious?

I'll say it's serious.

The hours I sat in my cell just waiting for the day

I could get out and lay my hands on that picture.

And what do I find?

You sold it.

- But you don't appreciate the temptation.

Someone with money to spend

and no knowledge of art? [laughs]

It's a dream come true.

- Well, suppose you quit dreaming

and think up how we can get that Hassler back?

- Of course, I'm just waiting for,

[intercom buzzes]

ah.

The Steindorf Art Galleries.

Steindorf speaks.

- [Woman] The number you require is Black Rock one.

- One, are you sure?

- [Woman] Repeat, Black Rock one.

That is the only subscriber in the area.

- Very well, thank you.

- Maybe he's a hermit or something.

Anyway, if he lives on his lonesome,

it'll be chicken feed to go out there and grab it off him.

- You mean steal it?

- Now, is that screwed right down, Jimmy?

It has to be absolutely airtight.

- I think it's okay, Professor.

- Then let's proceed to test.

Ready to switch on, Mike?

- Switching on now.

Charging nicely.

Are we ready to fire?

- I beg your pardon, Mike?

- Well, you seem to be running it

like a serious scientific test.

- All right, then.

Firing one now.

Fine, it works!

- As Doc would say,

satisfactory, most satisfactory.

- [laughs] Well, I think we are ready

to have a go at Supercar.

It will be a slow job, I'm afraid,

because we have to be sure

of covering every inch of the paintwork.

[phone rings]

- There's the phone, Professor.

- What, what?

Was it?

Where?

- It's okay, it was Dr. Beaker's phone.

And don't point that thing at me, Professor.

It might go off.

[Professor Popkiss laughs]

- Now let me get this straight, Mr. Steindorf.

First, you tell me the painting

is worth four times what I paid you for it.

And now you telephone to say you've made a mistake.

- But you see, I thought it was a genuine Hassler,

and now I find that it is a fake.

A mere copy.

- Is he swallowing it?

- I think so.

You paid 90 for it.

I will offer you,

to cover your expenses, say 110?

120?

- I fear you're wasting your time, Mr. Steindorf.

Yes, it's a possibility it is a fake,

but it must be a very good fake

or it would not command the price you are asking.

Who knows?

In time, it may be worth more than a genuine Hassler.

May it not.

- How's it coming along, Mike?

- Okay, Professor.

I've almost finished this side.

- The level in the jar is right down.

Will you fetch another from the outside lab, Jimmy?

- Okay, Professor.

- There's one prepared on the bench inside the door.

- That's it, Professor.

We're running dry.

And since we are taking a breather,

what do you say we go see

what the great art critic is up to?

- Yes, now the question we ask ourselves is, why?

Why is Mr. Steindorf so anxious

to regain possession of this landscape?

I wonder, could it really be an old master?

An early Van Gogh, perhaps?

- Oh [laughs], I don't think so

because stenciled on the back of the canvas here,

quite clearly, is the inscription,

"Supplied by Wedderburn & Sons, Chicago, 1929."

- Must a got around a bit, this Van Gogh.

Both in time and space.

[Mitch screams and hoots]

- Well, it may seem humorous,

but it is also curious.

Actually, most curious.

Steindorf must have some reason for wanting the picture.

- [laughs] Well, perhaps the canvas has been used before.

Perhaps your Mexican Plane has been painted

over a Grandma Moses.

- Of course.

Why didn't I think of that before?

- Come on, Doc, Grandma Moses wasn't painting in 1929.

- Nevertheless, the professor has given me an idea.

There may indeed be another painting beneath this one,

and if so, with the aid of a little infrared investigation,

we shall discover it.

Now, where did I put my photographic equipment?

- Might as well leave him to it, Professor.

You know what the Doc's like when he gets an idea.

- So much for your big idea.

Where did it get us?

- Well, how was I to know he'd turn down more than $100?

- Yeah, well that's just the point.

Your offer scared him off.

Anyway, you can save your dough

because we're gonna get it for nothing.

- You don't still mean to steal it?

- You got a better idea?

- Are you sure you can do it?

- With you along to identify it, yeah.

- Me, but Jody, I--

- I've never seen the thing, remember?

And I hate to grab a painting of Miami Beach instead.

Don't flap, it'll be a cinch.

[dramatic music]

- This is not going to be easy.

Makeshift apparatus.

[Mitch hoots and screams]

Infrared plate in camera.

Flood lighting satisfactory.

Developer, fixer.

Are we ready, then?

[Mitch hoots]

In which case,

take one.

[camera snaps]

Ah, very satisfactory.

Most, most satisfactory.

- [Mike] Hey Doc, do you mind if I switch on--

- No, no, please.

No, on no account.

No, just a minute.

Ah, now then, what is it, Mike?

- Nothing special, just wondered how you were getting on.

- But I thought you weren't interested.

- That was before you borrowed the spray gun.

- Oh, my dear fellow.

I quite forgot.

You shall have it back almost immediately.

I merely wanted it to spray a solvent over the canvas.

- What for?

- Why, to dissolve away the top layer of paint

and reveal what is undoubtedly a masterpiece beneath.

We spray a thin, even solution

over the whole area,

and in the morning, you'll see.

It'll be quite gone.

[suspenseful music]

- Man, is that the baby we're after?

- Yes.

Now, quick.

Take it and let's get out of here.

Please, before someone wakes.

[comical music]

- "In the morning, you'll see," the man said.

So what do we see?

- Curious.

Most curious.

- "It'll be quite gone," the man said.

And he was right, too.

Mighty good solvent of yours, Doc.

I thought just the top layer was supposed to disappear.

Poor old Doc.

All that's left of his art collection.

- But why, Mike?

Why should anyone want to steal a picture like that?

- Don't know, Professor, but it was certainly stolen.

You can see where a knife has cut the canvas.

- Steindorf doesn't reply.

A pity.

I thought that perhaps

he might have thrown a light on this business.

- Maybe he did the stealing.

- Oh really, Mike.

Steindorf is hardly the kind of person

to indulge in a felony.

- Well, maybe.

Maybe not.

The only thing is,

it must have been kind of important

if he went to the trouble of stealing it.

It must have been something else about that picture.

Something about that landscape.

Those mountains.

I'll swear I've seen 'em before.

[dramatic music]

- Oh.

Jody, please.

Can we not rest a moment?

I have not had a moment's relaxation

since we caught the plane at four o'clock this morning.

- You can rest when we get there.

Hey, wait a minute.

Aren't those the mountains?

- [Steindorf] Mountains?

Oh, yes.

Those are mountains.

- I can see that, you fool.

But are they the mountains, the ones we're looking for?

- Oh, I hope so.

Indeed, I hope so.

- But are you sure you can find these mountains, Mike?

- I think so, Jimmy.

That's a pretty distinctive shape

and I know I've flown over it before at some time.

All I have to do is go through all the flight plans

that cover every trip we've made in the Supercar.

Maybe they'll find what's going on

if I can find where it's going on.

- Hassler.

Bud Hassler.

Yes, an artist.

A forger?

Is that the only one you know of?

Curious, most curious.

But then I suppose a forger is an artist

in his own peculiar way.

- A forger?

Of course, Doctor.

Hassler, I remember.

It was in the papers

just after I came to this country in 1929.

- Really?

My colleague appears to be familiar with the case.

Yes.

Thank you for the information.

Yes, yes.

Nice talking to you.

- And they never found the plates used.

I wonder, Beaker,

do you suppose that's what Steindorf is after?

- Hey, Doc, Professor, I've got it!

- What, Mike?

- Those mountains.

Looks like the Sleeper Range

some 20 miles across the Mexican border.

We flew over them on that Amazon trip.

- Ah yes, I remember.

A curious formation

resembling the figure of a recumbent man.

Hence, the name Sleeper.

- I remember too, Doctor.

I remember it was around the Mexican border

that Hassler was caught in 1929.

He must have buried the plates there.

- But where, exactly?

[dramatic music]

- Yeah, this must be the place.

- Oh, thank heaven.

- Not that I've seen it before,

but somehow it's just as Hassler described it.

- Then we start digging?

- Well, first let's see the picture.

We gotta know where to dig.

- Well now, the situation as I see it, gentlemen--

[Mitch hoots and screams]

- Hush, Mitch.

- I beg your pardon?

Gentleman and Mitch, the situation is this.

Here, we have a sandy desert

purported to resemble this picture here.

Now, having in mind that March the 5th, 1929

was, according to the professor,

the date of Hassler's capture not far from this spot,

and that this is the only legible date

falling from the calendar here,

we deduce that this picture holds the answer to the riddle.

- So, what is the answer?

- Well, I suggest the best plan is to

visit the scene of the crime.

We are sure to find some kind of pointer.

[dramatic chord]

- You see?

That cactus on the left of the picture.

That's the pointer.

- I see.

Do we dig beneath it?

- Oh no, that would be too easy.

Hassler reckoned the cops might be smart enough to do that,

so he used the shadow.

- The shadow?

- Yeah.

Now, look.

It falls across the sand there,

shaped like a pointing arm,

and at the time shown on that watch face,

25 after one,

the shadow hand shows us where to dig.

- Ingenious.

- Yeah, Hassler was no fool.

So get movin', huh?

I'll wear the canvas down with sand

so it doesn't blow away,

and you go take a look around for that cactus.

- What, me?

By myself?

- Division of labor, pal.

I'm saving my strength for the digging.

- If, let me see now.

They'll be digging there

presumably at the hour shown in the picture.

Namely, 1325 hours.

- Yeah, and it's gone 12 already.

Climb aboard, Doc, and we'll be on our way.

- Good luck, Dr. Beaker.

[Mitch screams and hoots]

- Ready when you are, Mike.

- [Mike] Hold it, Doc's just coming aboard.

Steady, there.

Okay, Professor, all set.

- Charging forth, then.

[engines rev]

- Five.

Seven.

Nine.

12,000.

14,000.

15,000.

- All right, interlock on.

Charge starboard.

- Six.

Eight.

11.

13.

14.

15,000, Professor.

- Interlock on.

Fire one.

[engines blast]

- Fire two.

[engines blast]

Firing steadily, Professor.

[mystical music]

- All right, Mike, doors open and she's all yours.

- Selecting vertical takeoff now.

[engines hum]

[mystical music]

- Oh, Jody.

Jody!

- You found it?

- Well, no.

I've been right around in a circle

and the cactus just isn't there.

- What?

- Perhaps it died.

30 years is a long time.

- Don't give me that jazz.

It must be here someplace.

- Pilot to console, pilot to console.

Do you have our position?

I reckon we're about 90 miles north of the border.

- Console to pilot, 92.3 to be exact, Mike.

And if we keep going according to the last flight plan,

you should hit the spot with some accuracy.

- Ooh, that was a nasty turn, Pilot.

In fact, it gave me a nasty turn, too.

- Sorry, Doc.

But we gotta make time

if we're gonna beat Steindorf to the plates.

- Oh, I hardly think you need worry unduly about Steindorf.

It just occurs to me that he can't possibly find the plates.

- What do you mean, Beaker?

- He's got the canvas, hasn't he?

- The canvas, yes.

But not necessarily the picture.

- For Pete's sake, if you're so dumb

you can't find it with your own eyes,

then maybe the picture will tell us where the cactus is.

Clear out the sand and let's take a look.

- Of course, Jody, right away.

[dramatic music]

No!

Oh, no!

I don't believe it.

- And so, I imagine Mr. Steindorf has found,

somewhat to his chagrin,

the effectiveness of my solvent.

- Well, we'll soon know.

Time to lose a little altitude, I think, Professor.

- Roger, Pilot.

- Well, isn't that just dandy.

First, no cactus and now no picture.

- Well, really, it's not my fault.

- Of course, it's your fault!

If you hadn't unloaded it on that doctor guy,

we'd still have it and the plates.

- Why, couldn't we just go ahead and dig anyway?

- Dig up a whole desert?

If that's the way you want it, you stay.

Me, I'm hitting the trail for home.

- Oh, you!

Why couldn't you have been a plain, ordinary fake Rembrandt?

- Console to pilot.

Your altitude is now 4,000.

If you come down another 450,

you'll be the same height as the Sleeper Range.

- Okay, Professor.

Hang on, Doc, here we go.

[engines roar]

- Wait a moment.

There's the range over there.

About seven, eight miles off.

- [Mike] That's it.

Cutting to half boost.

- If I were you, I would come in

from a slight southwesterly direction.

That will,

if I may coin a phrase,

put us in the picture.

- [Mike] Well, it looks like the birds have flown, Doc.

- True, but without that which they came to seek,

could we find it, do you suppose?

- Like how, for instance?

- Well, having deduced during the course of our journey

the meaning of the shadow at the precise time,

all we have to do is to simulate a cactus.

- What?

- Simple, my dear fellow.

Let me scrawl a few calculations,

like the illustrious Archimedes, on the sand.

Yes.

If the length of the mountain's shadow

is proportionate to the height, I think,

ah, satisfactory.

Most satisfactory.

The cactus would have been about your height, Mike,

so if you would, kindly stand over there

with your arms just so.

- [sighs] The things I do for you, Doc.

[dramatic music]

[mystical music]

[cheerful music]

- Are these really counterfeit plates, Professor?

What are we gonna do with 'em?

- Well, I think the Treasury Department

would be interested in them,

just as the police will be interested in Mr. Steindorf.

- Yeah, I don't suppose he'll be

in the painting business for a while.

Will you be sorry, Doc?

- Not at all.

As a matter of fact, having observed that photographs

are somewhat more durable than paintings,

I'm thinking of giving up art altogether.

- Oh hey, don't do that, Doc.

I commissioned a painting especially for you.

- Oh, oh really?

What kind of painting?

[comical music]

[Mitch screams]

[Mitch hoots]

Subtitles: Kilo [engine hums]

[engine blasts]

♪ Supercar

♪ Supercar

♪ With beauty and grace

♪ As swift as can be

♪ Watch it flying through the air ♪

♪ It travels in space

♪ Or under the sea

♪ And it can journey anywhere

♪ Supercar

♪ Supercar

♪ It travels on land

♪ Or roams the skies

♪ Through a heaven's stormy rage ♪

♪ It's Mercury-manned

♪ And everyone cries

♪ It's the marvel of the age

♪ Supercar

♪ Supercar

♪ Supercar

[engine blasts]