All language subtitles for The.Medusa.Touch.1978.720p.BluRay.x264-SiNNERS-1

And now the moment when they're
about to lose radio contact on the far side of the moon.

OK...
Let's make sure that we don't do anything

that's going to blow our CSM electrical power with the batteries,
or that will cause us to lose the main for the fuel cell no. 2.

Despite the gravity of the situation
the flat American voices

retain their matter of fact tone
that has characterised so much...

It's unlocked, come in.

I thought you'd come. Just a moment,
I don't want to miss this.

There's something coming through.
It's a response from Ferguson.

Commander Ferguson responding to Control's suggestions.

We're down to 10 miles, Geoff.
There's still no response from the Control.

Understood, 6. We still show no fault here.

Keep your finger on that
switch - we're still searching.

I've poured you a drink.
We ought to be civilised about it.

Those were the last words,
they've lost radio contact.

Achilles Six,
the mission that was to inaugurate

man's first permanent station on the moon,

is locked into an orbit that,
unless some miracle occurs,

will produce
the first American disaster in space.

A response at last.

In a strange way, those men in that
tiny craft have become a family to us all...

About two hours, I'd say.
He's still soft.

When it comes to violence,

there really is a common market.

I wouldn't...

spoil your breakfast.

Oh, Jesus.

Talk about beating somebody's brains out.

He was a writer.

Is that what you do with writers in England?

Oh, please, would you...?

- That's the first one I've ever had.
- First what?

Writer. It's what you might call
a turn up for the books.

Sorry, sir.

What did you find?

The man next door reported to the night porter,
who found the body and called us.

Let's speak to the neighbour.

Sergeant Duff.

Was the TV set on when they found him?

Yes sir, it was on when I came in.

NO SIGN OF L.

THE WEST FRONT

I saw the door standing open.
It isn't wise these days.

I called the Porter.

You didn't see the body, Mr. Pennington?

- Did you know Mr. Morlar well?
- I didn't know him at all. We were just neighbours.

- Very British.
- I am British.

Any visitors, girlfriends?

- None that I've seen.
- Boyfriends?

No. He may have been strange,
but not that way, I think.

Would you know if he had any visitors?

How do you mean?

I mean, I can hear your TV set distinctly.

Which means, you would be able to hear anything in here

like laughter, argument, loud noise.

Not if my TV was on, it drowns the noise, you see?

I see.

How did you discover what happened then?

I took my milk bottles out
during one of the commercial breaks.

His door was wide open.
I called the porter.

Did you miss any of the programme?

What about your wife?

- My wife is dead.
- I'm sorry.

Thank you, Mr. Pennington.

What do you drink?

Pardon?

A drop of whisky. Why?

No reason.

Television will be the death
of crime detection.

- How's that, Inspector?
- No one hears anything any more.

Could I speak to the porter now?

Listen.

"There are more tears than smiles.
There is more sea than earth.

One day the insupportable grief of mankind
will sweep over the land

and an ark will float
on that liquid expression of misery".

What do you make of that?

I'm not much on modern literature.

He's turned his TV off,
we've made some progress.

It's not possible...

My God.

Call an ambulance quickly
and alert the hospital.

How we fight against it...

Will Dr. Patel please go to the burns unit.

Dr. Patel to the burns unit, please.

All available nurses are required to go to Casualty.

They're busy, Jumbo crash.

This is Sergeant Hughes,
he'll be on the first shift.

- If he speaks one word, I want it.
- Yes, sir.

The porter?

He claimed came up when Pennington called
and found the man dead.

He ran back down and called us on his own phone.

Any reason not to believe him?

None I could see, but I'm having him checked.

- What about visitors?
- He didn't have any.

He had one tonight.

- Zonfeld?
- Never heard of him.

Pick me up in the morning at 9.30.

As soon as they'll let you in there.

- So the TV wasn't on when it happened?
- Apparently not.

Anyway, the porter said he turned it on while waiting,

because the astronauts
had just gone behind the moon...

All right, but we can't put him
to the guillotine for that.

- Were there any prints?
- They were too smeared on the statue.

The only clear prints on the TV
were the porter's.

Just when I thought
I was going back in peace,

it begins to have the smell
of one of those cases.

I don't know, Inspector, we found Zonfeld.

It's only been 12 hours, it's not bad.

Here we are, number 44.

- Dr. Zonfeld, please.
- First floor, end of the corridor, left.

Oop- merde!

Good morning, I am Inspector Brunel.

Oh, yes, Inspector Brunnel,
I told the Doctor you'd called.

Bru-nel. Bru-nel.

Doctor, Inspector Brunel
is here to see you.

Terrible, isn't it?

There aren't many Zonfelds in the directory.

No.

- You're French.
- Yes.

I hope Mr. Morlar isn't in any trouble.

No.

Dr. Zonfeld will see you now.

Thank you.

I expected a man.

I'm sorry, I had no way of knowing.

And I expected an English Inspector.

In Paris right now, a Frenchman
is confronting that English Inspector

and he is equally surprised.

I see.

We're trying to acquire
each other's weaknesses.

- Won't you sit down?
- Thank you.

I'm calling about John Morlar.

My secretary explained.

May I ask if your relationship
with Mr. Morlar

is personal or professional?

Purely professional, he's a patient.

He was found in his flat last night.

Dead?

Not quite, but he had been badly assaulted.

Oh.

I'm very sorry.

- I assume he'll be all right, then.
- He will never be all right again.

That's tragic.

No one seems to know much about him.

I know a good deal about him.

But he had no enemies that I know of.
No friends either.

- That was one of his problems.
- He must have had one enemy.

Well, I don't see that that follows. But a man
may be attacked by a perfect stranger.

There were two glasses laid out.

One contained brandy and one whisky.

How can I help you?

Why did he come to you?

I have a gift for disaster.

- You seem to have survived it.
- I don't mean for me, but for others.

Have you come to me to confirm this gift

or to assist you in repudiating it?

He had delusions.

Most patients come because they feel
the world is too much for them.

Mr. Morlar felt
he was too much for the world.

In his case it began when a nanny he hated
died of measles.

He believed he caused it.

She was an Irish bitch, priest-ridden,
rosary-racked

and in desperate need
of the consolation of the damned.

...get ye hence,

the Lord will no more dwell among you.

You will wander as orphans.

But Lucifer did not triumph

for the Lord is mighty and terrible

and in his wrath
he poured his fury out like fire

tormenting the wanton,

searing the flesh of those
who dwelled in iniquity.

He led the wicked into darkness.

Night after night she filled me

with visions of the blood red hell
she longed for on earth.

Until one night, boiling with measles,

I closed my eyes and prayed to the Devil.

"Dear Lucifer,

let her burn in hellfire
as you're burning me".

Next day she took to her bed and died.

He was a writer and so his descriptions
tended to be a little lurid.

It would hardly get him arrested.

But there were others.

Unfortunately his delusions were reinforced.

It was a dreary place with seedy hotels...

with names like "Atlantis" and "Fairview" and "Welcome".

And Mother was much like the hotels -

a decade past her prime, a lot of paint covering the worst cracks...

a pathetic pretence at being better than she was.

John...make yourself useful for a change...

...and fetch my parasol.

Father sported a moustache, a blazer

and the title "Major"

acquired from a reserve regiment
when England's need was at its greatest.

But he was no match for her.

You scuff those shoes,
you'll go to school in slippers.

My God, I don't know how we came
to have such a dreamer.

Doesn't look like anything as far as I can see,

with those fish eyes
and that stupid mouth, half open.

I wouldn't mind if he saw things.

You're too hard on him,

he's naturally introspective.

Don't try and muddle me with long words,
Henry Morlar.

He's a born fool

and I know where he gets it from.
And that's a hereditary facts...

Come away from there, you stupid little...

- Henry, can't you control him?
- Get your hands off that.

- Let him enjoy himself.
- Are you taking his side against me?

Should I do everything myself?

Serve the lunch, pack it away again.

Ever since I had that child...

John, get over here, help your mother.

Had you played with the brakes?

No.

You didn't yell, you didn't warn them?

When I saw them from that hotel window,
I knew it was...

...inevitable.

- Are you sure that isn't an excuse?
- A simplistic interpretation.

If it were the only incident...

it might be valid.

- There were others?
- Several.

All equally inevitable.

I felt them to be.

He's carried that kind of conviction
right through his life?

tes.

Yes, that's one way to describe it.

Doctor, Mrs. Harrison's here to see you.

I'm sorry, Inspector, I have a patient now.

- If I can be of any further help...
- You can.

I want to hear those other incidents.

If he believed he was involved in disasters

he may have convinced someone else too.

And they sought revenge.

I hardly think so.
Most people are very sane about delusions.

It's only the deluded themselves
who take their stories seriously.

I could come at 6, after you've finished.

Tonight?

There's a murderer or at least
an attempted murderer somewhere in London.

And I would like to find him.

I'm meeting someone for dinner.

All right, Inspector, 6 o'clock.

Thank you.

Does "West Front" mean anything to you?

He wrote it in his journal
next to your name.

No, I don't know what that means.

Thank you, Doctor.

- Please, try to keep the corridor clear.
- Sorry.

- Anything?
- No, sir, he's hardly alive.

I've met a Doctor Johnson, is he here now?

I think so, they're all pretty busy

and a bit unhappy about the bed
being tied up.

- It doesn't seem as though...
- Wait, there he is.

We'll have to have more plasma.
Call Leeds and try to get McManus here.

Give them the full list of casualties.

Inspector Brunel,
what a pain in the derriere you're being.

White, separate the children's figures,
that'll get McManus.

It's a waste of time,
we can't really afford that apparatus.

Waste of your time too.

- If you could get one word from him.
- The jaw's off its hinges.

He couldn't form a word if he was sensate.

He could write one.

See that?

That's his pulse.

Now look at that

and you'll be watching a miracle.
That's the EEG; his brain.

It shouldn't be working at all
after the way it's been smashed.

Crazy.

The brain's a power to itself.

But I'm warning you, Brunel, when that
brain stops screaming, I'll need that bed badly.

Stay by him and keep
your pad and pencil ready.

Yes, sir.

It's all right, the Assistant Commissioner
wants a word with you.

Your office said you were on the way
to his publishers, I just wanted a word.

Your privilege.

Morlar.

- Are you on anything else?
- Yes, sir.

- There was a knifing in Clapham Common.
- Drop it.

We want to know who did it.

So do I.

I'm glad it fell to you.
We wouldn't dream of taking you off it.

Why don't you go and chat
in Piccadilly Circus?

You'd stop a bit more traffic there.

Is there something I ought to know?

No, just keep me informed.

He was a brilliant writer
and his last few books were the best.

- What were they about?
- Evil... and power.

He had the gift for tying one to the other,
but nobody wanted to know.

Copies always sold,
but somehow they never got reviewed.

Could he have made enemies
with what he wrote?

You'd better read him and see.

Since no one paid very much attention,
I doubt they inspired murder.

It's funny,

there was something about him,
very private,

very intense, a little menacing.

If I'm honest I'm not surprised somebody
tried to kill him, but I couldn't tell you why.

And his personal life?

I'd be surprised if he had one,
he was so self absorbed.

In all the times we met,
I can only remember one moment

that didn't have to do with business.

I've read your manuscript.

It's very exciting.

I love your satirical dissection
of the Prime Minister.

But there's this other bit that worries me.

- It's God who should...
- ...stand at the bar of public opinion.

That almighty enemy of evil should face
a jury of his victims,

the helpless, the hopelessly deformed,
the despairing.

It's a little strong.

I'm not responsible
for what my characters say.

Colby's despair entitles him
to taunt that celestial non-entity.

But your readers won't see it that way,
they'll say it's you.

I can live with that.
I've known despair too.

As you say. There was this...

Another section I wondered about.

How incredible!

John?

Just a moment, I think we ought to...

John?

They sat there for over 3 hours.

They were still there when I left at 6.

Did you mention him the next time you met?

No, you didn't intrude
where Morlar didn't want you to be.

And the tramp, do you remember him?

- Could you describe him?
- Not really.

I'm slightly myopic.

Thanks for your help.

I'm sorry, it's just the only
personal anecdote I have.

For the state he's in he must have
a bloody good reason to stay alive.

I cannot live alone with this knowledge.

What is more, I cannot die with it.

It's the terrible beauty of a cleft stick.

Either end can beat you to death.

God and gentle Jesus are now the "in-thing".

Mouth pious nothings

and then grab the biggest fee you can.

No sign of L.

The walls of Jericho fell
to the power of thought.

So what is the meaning of impossibility?

Zonfeld. If only she knew.

You'll go blind, Inspector.

We've been sifting through the tenants,
it's a blank draw so far.

Only one woman ever spoke to him to get him
to join the Tenant's Association.

"Don't bother me again with your
middle-class crap" and closed the door.

I'm learning to admire the man
more and more.

What, even his collection of pictures?

Look at Medusa over there,
she's not very pretty, is she?

She was a monster created
to do battle with the Gods.

She's supposed to turn you to stone,
not look pretty.

Come, I want to show you something.

- What's the word from the hospital?
- The same.

I would like an extra crew to check
the working tenants tonight.

I want it on paper.

Will they give us the personnel for that?

They will.

Look.

Floods, tornadoes,

earthquakes, massacres,

riots,

killings, murders, air crashes,

famine... nothing but disaster.

He has reams of them
going back across the years.

- It's morbid.
- Maybe.

But when you see them collected like this
you realise how much disaster we live with.

How far did he get?

the atom risk at Windscale,
The B.1. Bomber crash,

the American submarine.

The last is the Jumbo business here.

Pity, if he'd lived a little bit longer,
he could've pasted in the moon shot.

Hm.

There's no end to disaster, Sergeant Duff.

Whenever he died,
there'd always be another.

- So what's the point?
- I don't know.

I thought you'd come up with something brilliant.

His death will be a disaster.

Perhaps he wanted to get into the book too.

Not bad, perhaps.

Get Rogers to send the rest of the journals
to my place.

With those and his novels
I have a lot of reading to do.

- How did it go with the psychiatrist?
- I'm seeing her again.

Now.

At least I'm getting an idea
of what the man was like.

- Her?
- Yes, "her".

Not your type.

I want to be all the help I can to you,

but I've been through my notes on
Mr. Morlar and I can't find anything

that would prompt someone to
assault him the way you suggest.

And tonight is very important to me.

I will be brief.

Do you know who "L" might be?

"No sign of L".

Does that mean anything to you?

No, he never referred to anyone that way.

He seems fixated on disasters.

Could any of the other incidents Morlar
felt responsible for

be called disasters?

One of them could be described that way.

- Were there any deaths involved?
- Yes, a few.

A few.

Was Morlar blamed for any of them?

Yes, he was under suspicion.

May I take my coat off?

Parsons.

Since your first name is Walter

and your father is allegedly an expert in finance,

perhaps you'd care to contribute.

Yes, sir...

that is...

The F-F-First Crusade in...

I have given you a clue.

As the exquisite torture went on,

I chose to watch the scarlet leaves

being tossed by the grey gusts
of the autumn wind.

I took myself out of the arena.

...was led...

...by Walter the penniless...and...

Sit down, for God's sake,
you make me quite ill with your retchings.

Retention of the facts, that is...

Morlar.

Morlar.

Sir?

Can we assume that you are with us
in body if not in spirit?

Yes, sir.

- And what is that supposed to mean?
- That your assumption is correct, sir.

I was watching the leaves.

Get to your feet.

Are you deliberately trying to make a fool of me?

I'm sure one can only make
a fool of himself, Mr. Copley.

Silence!

Very interesting.

It appears we have a philosopher in
our midst watching the leaves.

I'll assist you in your philosophic bent.

After chapel you'll go out into the grounds

and you will pick up exactly 1149 leaves,

which number, as you know,

is the terminating date
of the Second Crusade.

Yes, sir.

Then you'll bring those leaves to my study
and we will count them

and if I find one leaf more or less,
I will thrash you, Morlar.

I will thrash you so that you'll remember it
for the rest of your misbegotten life.

Out of my way, boy!

Well?

Your leaves, sir... 1149.

This won't do, Morlar.

These leaves are wet,

I can't have them soiling my carpet.

- Go and dry them.
- Yes, sir.

How dare you look at me like that?

Get out.

Get out!

One master and 4 boys

died in the fire.

- The master was the one who had made him...?
- Yes.

At the inquest the whole story came out.
He admitted he left the furnace door open.

That was seen as the cause of the fire.

No one believed it was deliberate.

- He was exonerated of all blame.
- Even by the parents of the boys?

I don't know.

You've given me my first lead.

- I'm grateful.
- I'm glad I could be of some help.

What did Morlar feel about it?

When I looked at Copley in the doorway,
I knew he was going to die.

What about the 4 boys?

They're one of the reasons I'm here.

- Did you set fire to the building?
- I didn't set fire to my school.

I did not touch the brakes my father's car.

Therefore?

Therefore there must be something else.

Was there something else?

What else could there be?

That's right, the south of Kent.

I would like you to get the names
of the boys who died.

Yes, yes...

And then I would like a biography of their families.

Who's living, what they're doing, where...

I know, it's late, Sergeant.

May I suggest you start
tomorrow morning - early.

Huh.

L today.

They blast off tomorrow.

One of them said:

"I'm just an ordinary fella doing a job"

and other finger-licking nausea.

They are worried about cracks
in the West Front.

We shall see.

Coming.

Telekinesis.

Yes.

Sergeant Duff, come in.

I think I have found something.

So have I.

Two of the neighbours say Pennington felt

Morlar was responsible
for his wife's death.

- How did she die?
- Apparently a suicide.

Morlar did have the habit of making himself
responsible for such things.

But that one, Pennington...

would he have the nerve to kill?

Mm, I don't know.

Maybe if you loved your wife enough.

Neighbours. People should mind
their own business.

- They were trying to help.
- They weren't trying to help me.

I hated him, I never tried to kill him.

Of course not, but the more we learn about him,

the easier it will be to find who did it.

He'd deserve to get away with it.

He would.

You ever see Morlar's eyes?

A man can't be done in because of his eyes.

Maybe some should. The Church says
there demons in some people.

And there are.

My Grace would be alive today,
if it hadn't been for him.

- He killed her?
- He didn't take a gun to her.

There are more ways than one of killing a cat.

What exactly did he do, Mr. Pennington?

It was because of the fish.

Fish?

Fish.

Look at it it's rotten. How can you pay money for
something that's diseased and rotten like that.

I looked it over carefully.

It's not rotten, it's the light in here.

The light has nothing to do with it.

It is bad, foul. Look at that
colour, it's- oh, it's disgusting!

- It's dead, all fish look like that when they're dead.
- I'd like to know what that fish died of.

It's probably full of mercury and lead
and every poison in the sea.

It died like any other fish.
I'll make a little parsley sauce.

If you want to poison me,
don't try to disguise it.

I'm not trying to poison you, It's a perfectly
good fish. The fishmonger won't...

Mr Miller? He sees
you coming, you fool.

I won't eat it

until you eat it first.

All right.

For heaven's sake, stop panicking,
we'll eat something else.

I planned this meal all day

and you bring something full of infection.

I don't know how I can go on.

Keep your voice down.

How can I, when the television's
screaming all the time?

You worry more about the neighbours
than about me.

I don't. I've wrapped the bloody fish up
and thrown it away.

Now, please, take a pill and calm down.

Take a pill.

God, you and that doctor!

I just don't know why I go on,
I just don't know why.

I'll open a tin of ravioli,
it'll be all right.

God! I'd rather die.

I'd rather get it over with before you kill me.

- Stop talking like that.
- You wouldn't care, nobody cares.

- I've a good mind to jump.
- For God's sake woman, jump.

Grace?

Grace?

- Was Morlar always a writer?
- No, he began as a lawyer.

Poor devil.

I glance through the paper every day
to see whether he's still with us.

- A medical wonder, they say.
- He has a great will to survive.

There we are, life and death,
damn funny things.

What do I know about him?

He was my junior for a time.

Just another ordinary young hack but
trying to make his way to an odd guinea.

Never had a great deal to do with him,
little in common.

Not even the law.

Heart wasn't in it
and that's death in any profession.

He married, not wisely,
but too well connected,

that probably didn't help.

What kind of person was he?

Very withdrawn sort of fellow.

Had the most disconcerting eyes.

One could never return his gaze
in conversation.

Somehow made one feel guilty.

Do you know why he left the law?

I thought you knew,
thought that's why you'd come.

No, I didn't know.

Mr. Morlar, may I suggest you be brief?

Barristers' first windings-up tend to be
rather more generous with the Court's time

than is strictly necessary.

The chief villainy
of Mr. Lovelass's pamphlet

lies in his open admission
that he would do what he could

to make a world saner

and more humane than the world we live in.

His phrase, not mine.

He made curbside speeches.

He even wrote to certain politicians
and so-called princes of the church.

Mr Molar. Could you bring us to the charges?

My Lord,

the prosecution makes much

of the Defendant's professed wish to see
the Imperial War Museum destroyed.

"Why", the Defendant asks,
"do we send bus-loads of children

to gawk at that collection of tributes
to authorised murder?"

A crime?

Look at this venerable courtroom.

We are supposed to be civilised,

yet we do shove innocents
into that chamber of horrors,

stuffed with pain, mutilation and death
and say:

"Look, children. This is what
put the Great in Britain".

But where in that asylum of grotesques

do we find framed the armament
manufacturer's cheque book,

together with Grandpa's piss-pathetic
medal and his artificial leg?

I am with the Defendant.

If I knew how,
I would blow the bloody place sky high.

For which thought, if memory serves,
the Prosecution argues,

if a man can be so scathing

about our bloodied militaristic past,

what is he not capable of?

I will tell you,
ladies and gentlemen of the Jury.

He is not capable of a non-event.

There was no bomb, no threats,
no conspiracy.