Original subtitles

Excuse me.

Yes? Can you give me the address of the Imperial Hotel?

What? Hotel Imperial. Where is it?

What's this, then? Do you like this place?

It's there.

You never get in, you know.

You're wasting your time.

It's all booked up. Booked up with people coming to the film festival.

Mr. Valentine, what did you discuss in your private audience with the Pope?

We discussed new romances, prospective divorces, and all the latest gossip from

Hollywood. For 40 minutes?

Well, I pressed for more spiritual issues, but the Holy Father wouldn't

it.

Mr. Valentine, what is your view on fame?

It doesn't mean as much to me as you might think, and it can have its

side.

For instance...

Last year in the theatre, when we were doing Othello, the moment I walked on

stage, the audience began to applaud and cheer, and I hadn't even opened my

mouth.

Clearly, the audience couldn't possibly be applauding my performance as Othello,

as I couldn't begin playing him because of all the noise.

So they were applauding me as a famous person.

Valentin was getting all the applause while this poor chap Othello was

there hoping that they would shut up.

Which acting style do you prefer?

I can do without actors who mumble and mutter and stumble around as if they'd

been chewing tranquilizers for years. The moment they see a camera, they seem

be trying to creep under the carpet. But you have to despise the camera. It's

just a chunk of glass and metal. You have to control the frame to dominate

space.

Or even the other way around. You have to control the space and dominate the

frame.

What do you think of British cinema?

Oh, that would be a very good idea.

I can give you the address of Mr. Valentin's fan club. I'm not talking

mail here. Believe me. Look, if it's business, you discuss it with me, or

leave a message and I'll pass it along. No, it's a personal matter. I have to

speak to him directly. Why don't you write him a letter? No, I've written to

ten times already. I've never had a reply. Will you please call him now? He

not here at the moment.

All right, I'll wait.

When's he coming back?

You can't see him. He's got appointments all day, and he's leaving first thing

tomorrow. It's impossible.

Mr. Valentine!

Wait!

Please! I have to talk to you!

I have to talk to you!

There's some mail for you. Would you like anything else?

No, thank you, Walter.

Stand by.

You on that light.

As soon as they come out of the car, you have to follow them.

Understood? All right, all right. Keep your vest on, Garth.

Camera 5, on the man.

Get the light on that man immediately.

Move to follow, Spock.

Yeah, right, look, we've got him. Camera 3, camera 5, close.

Welcome, Mr. Valentine. We have been expecting you.

You will be given a very beautiful suite on the second floor, one of the best we

have.

We are most happy to have you here.

Would you sign here, please?

Is there something I can do for you straight away?

Yes. I want to change my clothes. You will find everything you need. We have

thought of all that.

I wish you a pleasant stay.

Excuse me.

Could you tell me what year it is?

1966.

1966?

Already?

Your name, please?

Norman Elliot Tregorin.

You don't seem to be registered here. What did you do before?

I killed Caesar Valentine.

Oh, that's who you are.

But you're here under Smith, Brian Smith, is that correct?

Yes, that's my real name. The other is my pen name. Right, Brian Smith.

Otherwise known as Norman Elliot Tregorin?

Your key.

Yes, beautiful indeed.

Yes,

lovely indeed.

Beautiful, yes, beautiful.

Oh, fantastic, this fabric.

Mr. Smith, I have fresh towels for you.

Could you just leave them in my room? It's open.

Who's the asshole who keeps stealing the fucking shark?

Look what's left here.

Baldessari, my dear.

Even the most perverted characters in my novels never use such language.

Fuck you and your fucking novels.

It really is pointless for you to complain about this.

And it is absolutely irrelevant that you cannot work in a small room.

You should be glad that you have a room at all.

You have ten seconds to evacuate this place.

Hold on, please.

It's a very unusual place here, is it not?

But you'll get used to it, as we all have.

By the way, my name is Frisch.

Erika Frisch.

Dr. Frisch.

The Dr.

Erika Frisch.

That's why you look so familiar.

Whose child is that?

That is the Lindbergh child.

The Lindbergh child, said Dr. Frisch blithely, is a brutally murdered baby

ambled happily before Smith's unbelieving eyes. Are you a writer?

I tried my hand at a lot of things.

Some poetry, you know, short stories, other things.

They published some of it, but the old stuff, you know, not the good things.

It's hard to break through.

But you must be famous now.

Otherwise you wouldn't be here.

As a matter of fact, the fame you enjoy on Earth at this moment is the only

thing which gives you the privilege of being on this island.

Every now and then there's a selection, and if you have been forgotten on Earth,

off you go into the midst of oblivion, just like all the others who live and

anonymously. So where are we? What is this place exactly?

I wish I could tell you.

A waiting room?

A purgatory, perhaps?

You might even call it hell.

Since so many of us are more afraid of oblivion than of death.

And the old chaps, where are they?

Sorry? The Shakespeare's, the Galileo's and the Mozart's, where are they? That's

a good question. But logic doesn't apply in this place.

Nobody seems to stay here forever.

And who says this is the only island and the only hotel around here?

But how can I believe I'm dead?

I'm tangible.

I'm not alone. I can hear your voice.

But yes, you are dead.

We're all dead. This reality is an illusion.

And that's Lassie, I suppose.

Yes, the famous movie dog.

And she's dead, too.

So, what did you do to become famous, Mr. Smith?

I killed one of the greatest actors of our time.

Waiter!

Waiter!

Yes, sir? What is this noise?

That's the rock stars having their jam session, sir.

Well, it's rubbish and it's loud. Tell them to shut up.

All our guests are free to do as they please, Mr. Valentine, as long as they

here.

All right, I'm going to my room, and I expect you to have a bottle of scotch

a bucket of ice waiting for me when I get there.

Certainly, sir.

Hemingway? Oh, yes, he's here, too.

But do go on. I can't believe I have a chance to talk to him. Well, your

here may not be any greater than they were on Earth.

If you see that chap, Smith, will you please tell him that I want a word with

him?

Of course, Mr. Valentine.

What time is it?

This sundial drives me nuts.

Look at this crazy shadow.

It never moves.

You never know whether it's day or night or how long things will take.

So how can you make a fucking date in this dump?

Bianca! I was waiting for you.

Bianca, I know where you are.

I've got a better heart.

Help me, bitch!

I'm sorry.

Who are you?

No one special.

Really?

Well, Mr. No One Special, why did you kill me?

I don't know.

You don't know?

You don't know why you killed me.

I don't think I like having been killed for no reason, and so you will think of

one.

Now.

Got you!

It must be Mr. Valentine.

I so enjoy those stories they used to tell about you.

I particularly like the one about the young actress who bit you so violently

during a tender kiss that your lip began to bleed.

When asked why she did it, she declared, I did it because Mr. Valentine

deliberately made me feel his sexual excitement in order that I should forget

lines in front of the camera.

Is that true?

Have we met?

My name is Merrick.

Horace T. Merrick. No doubt you have heard of me.

Horace T. Merrick?

Oh, yes.

The Nobel Prize for Literature. Aren't you the man who didn't get it?

On the contrary, I'm the man who turned it down.

It was my way of protesting against a jury report which totally ignored one of

my most brilliant contributions to world literature.

Sexually the most liberating book of the century.

The eve of gravitation.

The

eve

of gravitation.

That's it.

The story of a young man waiting for a telephone call from his mother or his

lover, or who was it?

His brother, who was his lover.

That's right.

The phone call didn't come. The young man fell asleep on the sofa. When he

up, there was still no phone call. And you squeezed all that into 400 pages.

Amazing.

The simplicity of the actor's mind is fascinating.

He would make a novel.

A very short novel.

What would that be? Only 200 pages.

You do this to me.

You don't even give me notice.

I'm not going. I'm not going. I am not going.

I'm going to go play. Watch out.

Scratching my painting.

Watch out.

I know who you're looking for.

They won't get away with it. He's played us.

I know now.

Excuse me.

I think you've lost this.

Oh, it's beautiful.

But it's not mine.

Well, I found it in the labyrinth just after we bumped into each other.

Well, it must be somebody else's.

When someone is offering you a nearing on the staircase, what does that mean?

Pardon?

In dreams.

Sheer happiness?

I see.

You think it's silly to talk about dreams.

Well, no, I don't, but this isn't a dream, is it?

Thank you.

Anyway...

What happened to you?

They shifted me to the attic like a piece of old furniture.

Then your fame on earth must be fading quite rapidly, I'm afraid.

That's impossible.

My paintings are as beautiful as ever.

Yes, but you know, the public always wants something new.

Not in my case.

It is immoral.

I tell you what it is.

They try to destroy my name, my art.

Who's trying to destroy you?

I can't tell you their full names, but I'm sure that Salvador and Pablo are

among them.

Mm -hmm.

I see.

Isn't it a seduction scene when I were to say something dreadfully corny, such

as... This music does something to me. How would you respond?

Do you like it?

That would be a very good response.

Yes or no?

What? This song.

Do you like it? This music really does do something to me.

You're an actor.

Uh -huh. And you?

That was me you've just heard on that recording.

You have a lovely voice.

Thank you.

You like playing games?

Certainly. What game have you in mind?

Chasing game.

What are the rules?

You start and I chase you.

You chase me?

Yes. Run.

Run?

Yes.

You can't be serious.

Go.

Run.

Mr. Zlatogorski, we're pleased to inform you there's been a sudden revival in

the public interest in your work on earth.

Not only in Russia.

The poems are translated and published all over the world.

We have the honor of moving you to a luxurious suite on the second floor.

You'd hurt my courage, you just tell me this nonsense.

Don't you see I'm working?

Don't leave me alone. But your widespread public success make it

move you upstairs.

I don't care.

I will stay where I am.

Don't you touch that!

Or I'll break your bones!

I'm the Russian Pole.

Listen, you idiots.

Stalin's changed the revolution!

The art. The human feelings.

Millions of questions.

But I could always define him.

I'm afraid of you.

Come on.

Let's talk about something.

Yes.

How

did

you die, my dear?

I died of a broken heart.

Always the same story with men.

They use you.

They lie to you.

They beg you to stay.

Then they leave you for another.

They should die of a broken heart.

It wasn't a man.

What about you?

I was executed.

Ah, how awful.

Why did they do such a dreadful thing?

I strangled 23 women.

Here we go again.

Can they come up with something new?

I told you something like this would happen, but you wouldn't listen.

Me? Yeah. It was his fault.

Yes.

They shouldn't drive through the roses.

Who cares about the roses?

What about my dress?

Shut up. Who cares about your fucking dress?

I'm dying to see some action.

German bastards.

What are you doing?

I lost my earring. What?

My earring.

You don't mean the dolphin?

Yeah. How do you know?

You found it.

Thank you.

Wait.

Let's sit down.

Please.

What's your name?

Smith.

Brian Smith.

We met on the staircase.

On the staircase?

But which staircase?

Look, I saw you at the labyrinth. We bumped into each other. Perhaps you

remember.

I found the earring there.

And I saw you on the stairs and you told me it wasn't yours.

After that, I started to look for you.

Because of the earring?

Because of you.

No, please stay.

No, I must go.

Let's meet at the greenhouse.

Well, that's not easy. How can I know when you'll be there when there isn't a

single clock in this place?

Well, come when you hear that old man shooting.

Looking for a boat?

Don't think you'll find one.

Why are you avoiding me? Are you afraid of me?

Should I be?

Listen.

Maybe it was a good idea to murder me at the height of my career, and so spare

me the misery of slowly sliding down the hill. Thank you. I really am terribly

grateful. But tell me, my dear chap, why did you do it?

All right.

Let's say you want to become famous.

You do your best. It doesn't work out. So suppose it occurs to you that there's

a better, quicker way to do it. You kill someone famous.

Immediately the publicity starts to work for you. You instantly get a share of

your victim's fame and your own name is connected with the name of that

celebrity forever.

Of course, you've got to have the gut to do it.

Splendid example of positive thinking. And immediately after murdering me, you

get killed yourself. Was that part of your master plan?

I didn't plan anything. Didn't you just say that you murdered me in order to

become famous?

No. All I said was that someone might get such an idea, remember? I said

suppose.

You know, there's another very interesting type of murder. There is?

A murder for absolutely no reason at all.

A murder for which you get nothing in return except possibly the thrill.

Or the feeling you exist.

I must go.

Bianca? Mr. Smith!

I hope you don't mind my being frank with you, Mr. Smith, but I feel you are

wasting your time with, shall we say, second -class personalities.

It's a pity.

I think it's time we meet the right people.

I know someone who could answer any questions you might have.

Well, I don't know.

Trust me.

Now, let us proceed a little further.

We're going to discuss the notion of experience.

Any suggestions?

I'm going through a really bad experience right now.

It seems that they don't play my compositions anymore on Earth.

In fact, I'm being threatened by complete oblivion. Oh, God, it's an

experience. Sir, what is your question?

Well, my question is, could you get in touch with a medium back on Earth?

I mean, so that I can transmit the work I write here. You know, my music, back

to a living audience.

What kind of music is it?

Oh, it's contemporary music.

That will take a private session. Come back later.

When?

Later.

This is bullshit. No more.

You can go now.

Enjoy yourselves.

Brian?

You're nothing.

I knew it from the beginning.

Just an ordinary earth.

Something I want to show you.

I don't want to disturb you. I just want to ask you one question.

Oh, that's all right.

I just finished working. I can think a lot better in the bathtub.

Lucy Down, you know what I miss most in this place are my mice and rats.

Sometimes they teach you more about human behavior than people themselves.

Would you care for a really good cigar?

No, thank you.

And you, Mr. Smith, how are you finding this place?

Still fascinated by all these famous people?

Dr. Frisch, do you believe there is love after death?

What do you mean, precisely?

I mean the love of a man for a woman.

Here in this place?

Impossible. The only states of mind I have observed here are jealousy, vanity,

and boredom.

Are you sure?

Positively.

That's funny.

What?

It doesn't matter.

It would be nice if we could have a more extensive conversation some other time.

It could be interesting.

For both of us.

Yes, it could.

Thank you.

Love?

In a place like this?

Interesting.

I didn't plan anything.

Remember, I said suppose.

Excuse me, Dr. Frisch. Mr.

Valentin, won't you join us? No, thank you. Please, I must have a word with

Certainly, Mr. Valentin.

You know, the psychology of dance in different cultures has always fascinated

me. Did you know that in some... Dr. Frisch, forgive me interrupting you.

Smith. He won't tell me why he did it. He's playing games with me.

With me!

He tells me one thing and then promptly tells me something completely different.

What is the crazy little parasite up to?

He's deranged. I'm telling you, absolutely deranged.

You mean a syndrome of sensory limbic hyperconnection? No, I mean he's fucking

mad.

But surely you could deal with him.

You're an expert in this field. You're an authority. You must be interested in

case like his.

Of course I am, Mr. Valentin.

But I'm not sure if I can help you.

Perhaps if you would treat him as your equal?

Smith?

They dance like no one ever danced before.

Just the two of us.

No, not at all.

I thought Mr.

Valentin was in. I think he must have lost it.

I was wondering if you care for a drop or something.

Huh?

It's good stuff.

And on the house.

Come in.

Thank you.

Nice room you have.

Cheers.

Pretty strange place we ended up in, Mr. Smith.

Well, I imagine it's a lot stranger for you than it is for me. Oh?

Why's that?

Well, it must be hard for you here without all your fans, the attention,

applause, all those things you took for granted.

I took nothing for granted. It took damned hard work to earn it.

When I arrived in New York from Europe in 1930, all I had was a piece of paper

with the address of Howard Nilsson on it.

I went to his office to ask for an audition. They told me to come back

and they kept telling me to come back tomorrow for six months.

It was November in the middle of the Depression.

I took a shabby room at the Breslau Hotel, which left me with no money to

any food.

It was a terribly cold winter.

I had a small paraffin heater giving out enough warmth to soothe the tips of my

fingers.

I turned up every day asking for an audition until eventually I was given

and I got the part.

It's interesting. I thought the, um... What?

It doesn't matter.

What?

Well, first of all, the Brethlaw Hotel was built with central heating. But

that's beside the point, because you arrived in New York in July, which was

hottest summer on record, and you got your first part six weeks later.

So what's all this about a paraffin heater?

Are you sure?

How do you know all this?

I'll be back.

Oh, excuse me. Auntie Dr. Frisch has been moved to another room. Can you tell

where I can find her?

Pardon? Dr. Frisch.

Can you give me her new number, please?

We don't have anyone of that name here.

Oh, come on. You know Dr. Frisch. Everybody knows Dr. Frisch.

I know all the guests who are staying in our hotel perfectly well.

I never heard that name before.

I'm sorry.

Oh, fuck you!

Our director wanted us actors to be more muscular, and so we went to a gym. I

watched my chums lifting these bloody great heavy weights, and I thought, oh,

God, that's not for me. Cesar, can't you ever stop talking about yourself?

What about my past?

I had four new dreams, and they're very important to me. Oh, well, tell me all

about them, lovey.

There was a sheep under the sea rose.

A beggar treats out his thumb for money and... Extraordinary! I played a beggar

once.

A blind beggar.

A villainous blind beggar.

Of course, I overacted dreadfully.

I was miserable. I thought I'd never work again. I went home.

It was the middle of the Depression and a bitterly cold day. I had a small

paraffin heater giving off enough warmth to soothe the tips of my fingers, and

suddenly the telephone rang. It was Howard Newton.

Depend from heaven, boy, and join us. What's your address? I thought, oh, God,

can't tell him I'm living in this dump. It was a frightful place called... The

Bresla Hotel.

How do you know?

Who told you?

No one.

I read it.

It's all in here.

Where'd you get this?

A waiter brought it to your room.

Norman Elliot Treat -Goring.

Where are you going?

Brian Smith.

Also known as Norman Elliot Trigorin.

Trigorin! Norman Elliot!

A woman, Elliot Trigorin.

A pen named Go, that's a loo -loo.

All right, Norman Elliot Trigorin, I did use some parts of your manuscript. Some

parts? I debated for my book.

It would have been more courteous of me to have mentioned your name in the

introduction. No, no, you stole my manuscript, all of it.

And what's more, you ruined it with your amateur scribbling and your pathetic

lies. Is that a reason for killing someone? I'm a reasonable man. I believe

conversation. You've got to talk to me. Talk? Talk's all right. Who else have

you talked to besides Bianca? I haven't talked to Bianca. Then what on earth is

she doing with the book?

Oh, you must feel immensely important babbling about this to everybody.

Well, that's not a bad idea. Perhaps I'll go and write an epilogue.

What are you doing?

Get out of your mind.

Mr. Togorin swore that you won't tell anybody. Never.

You're trying to kill me? I'm dead already, remember?

Maybe, but the fall could still be quite painful, don't you think?

You think anyone would care if I told them anyway?

They don't give a damn. They don't give a flying fuck about these are Valentin

or anyone else. You bloody well know that.

Valentin.

You know what I like particularly about your Anthony and Julius Caesar?

What?

The way you... Yeah?

I'm fully... Wait!

You were talking of the film.

What?

Julius Caesar.

Julius Caesar.

You know, I think that's the only film with you I've never seen.

And I told Dr. Frisch you really are a twifty little bastard.

Frisch is gone.

What?

Seems they've never had anybody registered under that name I see

Charming little spot

Wait. You can look really mean. Did you know that?

Is this what you wanted to tell me?

I've been looking for you.

Oh, you've been looking for me?

I have to speak to you.

Well, go ahead.

No, not here.

Will you come to the labyrinth?

Look, why the labyrinth? Why not the bar?

Because in the labyrinth, I feel safe.

They don't know the way.

Well, that's what I mean. I'll get lost in there.

No, I know the way. It's easy.

Let me go first.

Don't follow me right away.

I will be there at the fountain.

Oh, shit.

Bianca, are you there?

Yeah.

Well, how do I get to the fountain?

You can't get here from where you are now.

Is there just the one hedge between us?

I think so.

Right.

I'm coming in.

That's not the way to get to the heart of the labyrinth.

Oh, I'm sorry. Shall I go back to the beginning again? No, no, wait.

I have to warn you.

You wanted to warn me?

About what?

About me.

What's so dangerous about you?

I don't remember anything about my life before I came here.

Except that I was a singer, for they tell me.

I have no memory about my past.

That's why I'm here, in this clinic.

Clinic? Yes, I suffer from total amnesia.

What's your problem?

My problem? What do you mean?

All right, you don't have to tell me.

When I see all the other patients around here, I think I am a lucky one.

But watch out for the doctor and the medical staff.

They are evil.

There aren't any doctors here, Bianca.

Didn't you know?

The waiters, they are doctors in disguise.

Haven't you noticed how they observe us all the time?

They even tried to make me believe I was dead.

And you didn't believe them?

No. No, of course not. But nonetheless.

Oh, you found it. Wonderful.

What

the

hell are you doing here, my Roman? Who are you?

You should address your questions to the desk, Mr. Valentine.

And this is your new key.

There's been a bloody mistake made, and I want you to put it right at once. Can

you not see that I'm busy?

Listen, you toad!

You will shortly be busy removing broken teeth from the back of your throat.

If you cannot find your new room, these gentlemen will be glad to help you.

If you're worried about your privacy, then don't be, for this arrangement will

be only for one night.

Shut up!

The place is obviously run by incompetence who've made an intolerable

Intolerable!

By tomorrow, I shall have an appropriate sweet, so don't worry.

Do you find this terribly funny?

No.

No, absolutely not.

This reminds me of someone.

Oh, yes.

Yes.

There was someone.

Oh, please.

Don't stop.

Please. Don't stop.

Don't stop.

This reminds me of someone.

What do you think?

It doesn't make any sense to me. Your dreams are too strange.

But my dreams are the only clue to my past.

I don't know.

You're not interested in me.

But I am.

All right, let's start again with facts.

Okay?

Now, how did you get here?

On a boat.

How else?

Yeah, I know, but before that, what happened before that?

What is the very last thing you remember before you died?

So you believe it, too?

You really don't know or you just don't want to know? Which is it? You're sick!

Bianca, please listen!

I have to finish my sonata before the ceremony. It's my last chance. What

ceremony?

What's the matter?

My life in the limelight.

And beyond the light, squalor.

Faces, all those faces count.

False smiles, envious eyes,

poisoned kisses, honey -tongued voices, flattery, gossip, deadly wit,

little lies, big lies, betrayal, unfulfilled promises,

flaws, praise, adoration.

I thought it was love.

May I tell you something?

I miss it.

I really, really miss it.

All of it. Incredible.

Come along, my dear. It's time.

I'm not going.

Oh, you have to.

We all must.

What's wrong?

You're not afraid, are you?

Me? Afraid?

We'll be all right.

We'll see.

Do you think they're overdressed?

Ladies and gentlemen, it's always a pleasure to get together, see old

and make new acquaintances, though some of these friendships might be of a very

short duration.

To those of you who are soon going to leave us, have a good journey, and I

like to advise the good swimmers among you not to swim against the tide.

To those of you who are going to stay with us, thanks to their lasting

reputations, in the hearts and minds of so many living on the earth, I would

like to remind them, as time goes on, so does the process of forgetting.

At the end of all time, oblivion will catch up with all of you.

He's a bald comedian, don't you think?

So now may I kindly request you to form a queue and to follow the staff onto the

stage when ordered.

Thank you.

A jour en plus, un jour en moins, un jour je viens et l

'amour partira de nous.

You were the wife of the great composer Gruberman.

You were the lover of both the poet Jean -Francois Rouleau and of the ballet

dancer Blagol Leyev at the same time.

You were a favorite model of both Maconet and Ortola.

And during the last two decades of your life, you were the inseparable and

faithful companion of the young archaeologist Jarvi... Jarvi...

Jarvi... Jarvi... Jarvi...

who excavated the ruins of the temple of Rainapur.

To all these great men, you were a source of unlimited inspiration, and we

pleased to have you here.

Where have you been?

Trying to avoid my performance.

Your first paintings attracted the attention of the eminent art critic,

Matarov. After the break with a group of six, your star rose even faster.

Shortly before your untimely death, the prices paid for your paintings reached a

level unheard of at that time.

But not for long.

Only seven years after your death, a New York art dealer who specialized in your

canvases... could not sell a single piece and went bankrupt.

Rosenfeld. Marcus. There is not one single reference to you in the

of modern art.

And that is the limit.

Oh, no. No, no.

Leave the stage, please.

No. No.

No.

Ladies and gentlemen, good evening.

Most reassuring not having to introduce myself.

Tonight I have the great pleasure of disclosing to you the immediate future

one of the more outstanding people in our midst.

Mr. Valentin, would you kindly adhere to the text on the card?

When you died, Mr. Sergei Antonovich Slotogorsky, only a few people stood at

your graveside, a shallow trench dug into the frozen soil of the Ural

Soon the power of your words burst open the coffin.

Now your poetry gallops through the world, merciless and true, and the world

kisses your poetry's toil -hardened hand.

The Bucky, you monstrous hypocrites!

You creeps who suffocated all the homes of the century!

You enemies of love and humanity!

I spit on you!

I would rather be swallowed by the cold mist than remain in this

rotten place any longer.

Deep breath, nice clear voice.

A few centuries ago, the life of an actor didn't mean more than the life of

stray dog.

How much has changed since then?

The world we now know adores its actors, but for one who wants to become a good

actor, discipline, sensitivity, intelligence, and good looks are not

In order to be a really great actor, you have to be born one.

But it does not necessarily follow that an excellent actor is also a famous one.

In order to be a star, you need an audience of millions.

Mr. Valentine was such a star.

I'm not going to read this.

As we all know, Mr. Valentin was such a star.

But as time has passed, there's no longer any audience that wants to see

picture starring Mr. Valentin.

Hardly anyone remembers him and his films.

Ladies and gentlemen, there is no audience and no fame whatsoever for the

celebrated Mr. Valentin. Therefore, I'm very sorry to have to say goodbye, Mr.

Valentin.

Isn't it remarkable how good a minor actor can be when he's not playing a

in anything?

Did you say something?

Not really.

I thought as much.

Well, Mr. Smith, since your fame is tied up as that of Mr. Valentine, you know

what that means for you.

Leave me alone, would you?

You. You failed to transmit my music back to the living.

You charlatan.

Charlatan!

Now, ladies and gentlemen, the final event of the ceremony, the lottery.

Each time the prize of the winning number is unknown to us, and each prize

different from all the previous ones.

And as the veterans will have witnessed before, the prize is not always a good

one. In fact, it can be quite disastrous.

Now, spin the wheel.

Number 104.

Number 104, please step forward.

What's your number?

Haven't you got your number?

104, 104. He's got it. It's here.

Here's your number.

Show your number.

Ladies and gentlemen, the holder of the winning number 104 will leave this place

and return to Earth to live again.

There is more, Mr. Smith.

In addition, you have the right to take with you one person of your own choice.

You may think about your choice as long as the sand is running.

Please take me. My work on Earth is not finished yet.

The band is running. Do make up your mind.

Brian, I shall give you love.

I'll make you happy.

Now we can find out about your past. Let's go.

I'm staying.

I'm not going to let you do this, Bianca.

The time is running out, for Christ's sake. Don't you understand?

It's another drug of the daughter. Don't go, please.

It's time, Mr.

Smith. Yes, I know.

I want you with me.

Don't believe them. Don't believe them.

I take two pardons. Not permitted. Make your choice. Did I say two? Out of the

question. Make your choice now.

That's a ridiculous idea, you know, my being forgotten on Earth.

Ridiculous.

Ryan, would you go and get me a pair of dark glasses?

Go and get them yourself.

I'd rather not.

I don't want to be recognized immediately.

Excuse me, do you know this song?

What? This song, do you know it?

She died a long time ago.

What's the name again?

Bianca.

Ah, yeah, Bianca.

Do you remember how she died?

Well, there's something about a car crash.

Sorry, I really don't remember.

Forgotten on this earth, eh?

Look.

A Cesar Valentin retrospective.

Forgotten my foot.

Sure be here. You come for the valentine retrospective? Yes.

Pity these are gracious dross.

I'm so.

What weep you when you but behold our Caesar's vesture wooded.

Look you here.

Here is himself.

Will you be showing this film again?

Never. That was the last copy.

Goodbye. Goodbye.

This is for you.

Don't you want to keep it? No.

No, I know it by heart.

I'm sorry.

What I did was awful.

It's a good book. You're a writer.

Would you sign it for me?

Trigurino Smith.

Give me Smith.

What?

What?