All language subtitles for The Artist s01e01 Its Fucking Freezing

One second.

This is Henry Mann.

They got him downstairs.

Take your time.

Thank you, Gretchen.

Dear reader,

This is not a story in the conventional
sense.

You see, nothing is neat and tidy, nor
is it laid out with ease for a dim

-witted pony, which I hope you are not,
for both our sakes.

No, this story in particular is a
cautionary tale, and I shall begin at

end, as not to dramatize.

My husband is dead.

Killed in the dead of night.

His last breath taken after a series of
inexplicable, unconnected events that

together would change the world forever.

Ironically, the days leading up to his
demise would remind me why I had loved

him.

But it would be the moments afterward
that would set me free.

You see, this is not a tale of murder.

This is a story of rebirth.

I suppose the reason I say all of this
is to perhaps inspire you to look at

series of events from a different
perspective.

This story would begin the morning the
artist arrived.

He was supposed to be delivered the
night prior, but I did not know this

My

husband

and I were in that period of marriage
where we loathed each other.

I still had not forgiven him for selling
her a brownstone and moving us up to

the country.

Is that the pheasant you're eating?

You have eyes, don't you? Where we
didn't have so much as a working

Thomas!

Are they going to be out there all
winter? I mean, it's fucking freezing.

winter.

I'm meeting tomorrow with Mr. Edison on
a business opportunity.

Thomas Edison.

They overheard the Morgans, and, well,
now he's coming up to the House

Might very well reverse our little
conundrum.

We can time this, right?

Andrews invested twice. Both times they
saw returns before putting pen to paper.

Credit alone.

Just on credit alone.

It's just not fair to the little people
in this world.

Now, that doesn't really have to be the
pheasant. I believe you know Tommy from

a past life. It really could be a
chicken breast.

They're interchangeable fowl. We'd be
none the wiser, right, Gretchen?

Is there something I should know about
Thomas?

Well, like how he likes his tea?

Oh, God, I miss the city. No one misses
the city. And good tea. We're in the

country. It's an enviable location.

There is no one in the country here to
envy us.

Or at least that is what I have assumed.

Putain de machine, American de merde.

I'm so very sorry.

This is quite embarrassing.

You see, the Henrys don't service these
Model Ts as often as you might expect.

Do you know, Ford?

I sent some frustration.

What was that?

Are you a Jew?

No, sir.

Well, I don't think so, anyway.

You hear that?

What? A car.

It's a car!

Stop it! Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

That one's old.

Left over from something or other.

How's the resume?

Well, look at me.

I'm looking.

So?

You look as tempestuous as the day I met
you.

Only 40 years older.

Ludwig says I'm almost ready.

For what?

You know, jaunt, sparring, fight. You're
not fighting. You're not a fighter.

Maybe I could win a match or two.

Poor people, they fight.

No. Have something to fight for. Bring
in a little income. Oh, damn it. Marion,

don't be a fool. Oh, said the man who
invited Thomas Edison up to the house.

You know, come to think of it, I do
remember one of Thomas Edison's

idiosyncrasies. He liked to win at all
costs.

Trust me, Thomas Edison is a really
smart businessman.

I'm being serious. Are you? You wanted
Ludwig, I bought you Ludwig. Oh, you

brought me Ludwig. Very literally, yes.

You know what was wrong with you? Please
do tell. You were just never very

charismatic as a businessman. You know
the definition of a hobbyist.

You.

You are the definition of a hobbyist.

And I love you.

I can say that because I love you.

But you lack the ferocity to succeed.

You've given up on everything but me.

You know, I feel in the mood for some
entertainment.

The night would progress with normalcy.
I would insist on a performance from his

ballerina, Rachmaninoff.

A prelude, perhaps. Not a prelude, not
tonight.

I have meetings tomorrow.

C -sharp minor.

No.

G -sharp. C -sharp minor.

If anything, G -Sharp, you know she
can't dance to the other noise.

Lily.

From Mrs. Henry inside.

It would be the prelude in C -Sharp
Minor.

Shut up!

Are you

going

to pee?

Yes, of course.

She toys with us.

I did toy with them. Think of it this
way.

You'll be the first ballerina to ever
dance to a Rachmaninoff prelude.

Let's get on with it.

Before you judge

me and my circumstance, I implore you to
read until the bitter end.

It is only on the final page of this
journal that you might be well enough

equipped to tell fact from fiction, hero
from villain.

Find me Ludwig.

Jab. Jab.

Jab.

Jab.

The French.

It's sexy, but in moderation.

Do I approve?

Oh, my darling, it was marvelous.

No one dances to Rachmaninoff like you.
No one dances to Rachmaninoff.

You should fuck her every once in a
while.

These are circumstances that are

sometimes lost on young, beautiful
ballerinas.

Complexities you shouldn't bore yourself
with.

You have real talent.

It was the very same line he used on me.

You have all sorts of talent. Before I
was demoted to hobbyist.

Imagine your perfect little dance figure
on the stage

in Paris for all the world to see.

Their eyes longing for my most intimate
skin.

The skin that you and you alone are
rightful owner of.

It's what you want, is it not?

Oh, my God.

I would love to see you in Paris.

The girl and I were not all that
different.

She was young and optimistic.

Filled with purpose.

Looking back now, I can admit I was
rooting for her.

Subconsciously hoping she might avoid
the mistake I had made.

I think there was a part of her that
reminded me what it felt like.

To be alive.

Congratulations, Thomas.

I am so very proud of what you have
accomplished.

your ass.

Mais je joue le jeu, car il m 'a été dit
que si je me conduis bien, j 'ai mes

chances pour l 'un des rôles de Coppelia
cet automne.

Je serai bientôt de retour à Paris, si
Dieu le veut.

Votre Lili, toujours tendrement.

Yes,

Norman? I just wanted to remind you I
have meetings tomorrow.

With Thomas Edison, yes.

Good, good.

Is that all?

I also have an artist coming tomorrow.
You should know.

What artist?

Someone the Rockefellers introduced us
to.

Apparently everyone's meeting with him.
He's in from Paris only for a short

time. You know me and art. I know
nothing until it's hit me on the crease

forehead. The mini creases.

Often it's too late and we're left with
nothing.

And our neighbors with the classics.

Not this time, Marianne.

Look at me being the passionate,
impulsive man you married. Are you

Ah! You should be proud.

What are you talking about?

Have you commissioned something?

No, no, no, nothing major.

No. You know how time works, Marianne.

Rockefeller's William, even Andrew. No,
Andrew is a Carnegie.

Well, I'm a Henry.

Oh, my God, I have to say.

Good for you.

I refuse to sit and have my portrait
taken for an artist. I wouldn't expect

he'll paint the poodles.

It's already been decided long before
this drab conversation.

It was just like that. His fate had been
sealed for a portrait of poodles.

When you arrive at the windmill, you
make a left.

Then it's only four streets further.

It'll be the only house with lights.

The only house with lights?

What does this mean?

No one else lives here in the off
-season except the Henrys. The Henry

will be the only house with lights.

It is very dark.

It's very, very dark.

Yes. I cannot see very well after dusk.

I understand that you do not know much
about me, but know this.

I am all but blind.

Huh?

You're a blind artist?

Mm -hmm.

Leave them.

They're just monkeys.

Money on that.

Sir.

What? This is pretty good.

For a blind guy.

We shall now take a short intermission
while the artist fumbles around in the

woods.

Thomas Edison has done it again, only
this time it's the moving picture with

synchronized sound.

Introducing the Kinetophone.

And for a limited time, Mr. Edison will
be offering shares to the general public

so you too might try your hand at
changing the world.

From the inventor of the light bulb, the
Kinetophone, don't wait. Purchase your

stock today.

He walked all night, unable to find the
house until dawn.

Who the fuck are you?

Happy meeting day, sir, Mr. Henry.

Is she awake?

Not yet, sir.

You see to it she stays occupied.

Yes? All day?

Yes, sir. I don't need Tomfoolery, not
today.

No, sir. Tell me, has she ever shared
with you the history?

History, sir? With Thomas Edison.

Peculiar comments last night about...
Oh, never mind.

I feel good. You feel good?

I feel good.

The artist, sir.

He's here, too.

Shall I arrange a tea with you, sir?

Tea? What kind of tea?

Earl Grey, if you like, sir. Arrange a
tea with the poodles.

Yes, sir.

Okay. Go.

Gretchen, Gretchen, Gretchen! Yes, sir.

Keep her occupied all day, yes?

All day, sir.

Let's go, let's go, let's go!

Good luck, Doctor.

It appears you've lost blood.

It might be safe to assume that you are
hallucinating at this very moment.

Mrs.

Henry?

Mrs. Henry?

Yeah, I'm in here.

Is everything all right, ma 'am? Of
course it's all right. We wouldn't be

right.

It's just normally you're lying in the
bed until I pull the curtains.

Well, I just thought a 6 a .m. bath
would be just rightly on a day like

And what sort of a day is today, ma 'am?
That's a bit of an overstep, isn't it?

Yes, of course. I mean, I just... Sorry,
ma 'am. Yes, I just mean that today is

just a day like any other day, and let's
just leave it at that, and I won't have

you prying and making something out of
nothing.

Find me Ludwig

Excuse

me Have

I missed breakfast?

Hello. You look unhoused.

Arden.

The hounds are ready for you.

Mr.

Edison.

I trust your journey was refreshing.

It was nippy.

Nippy, yes. Yes, it's nippy.

Well. Tell me.

Was it, um... Was it the polo match in
Atlantic City?

Was what the polo match in Atlantic
City?

One last we crossed paths.

Oh, very possibly.

Would you permit me to be brief?

I'm due back in the city for supper.

All right? Yes.

Now, if you will, I was told it was
something...

innovative that you are after. Something
dramatic and something, well, very

daring. That is exactly right.

Something with dramatic upside, I should
say. Well, my portfolio does not exist

merely as a means to fuel your wealth,
sir. What is it, then?

Well,

I'll tell you what it is.

This right here is going to redefine the
next hundred years, perhaps more.

It's going to make women weep and men
cower, so it's not just a cash grab.

Please don't invest in it, unless your
personal fulfillment comes from truly

changing the world.

What will you do for supper?

What? Whose home?

My own, Mr.

Henry.

Let's get started, shall we?

I'd like to try a number from Les
Saisons.

Les Saisons, Les Saisons.

It's always a number from this season.

Oh, is it?

Fucking Buddha.

And one and two and three and four and
one and

two and three and four and spin.

Have you hired new help?

Not when you speak plainly.

A wizard man.

The gardener man.

He's been roaming the kitchen aimlessly.

Hands up.

Is that the... You heard it, Billy?

That might make sense.

Put your eyes right in there. I'm going
to lower these over your ears. They

should be quite comfortable.

I don't see anything.

Not yet. This is the first of its kind,
you understand?

What? Immersive entertainment. The
moving picture with music.

Hands up!

She has that deep sense of utter
darkness.

Darkness?

And one, and two, and three, and four,
and back.

Archdarkness. Ludwig, what do you mean?

Like that of a murderer.

A murderer?

In my house?

Now, any accusation of murder is one we
most always take seriously.

I have to speak to Norman about this.

if the accusation is completely and
utterly without merit.

Back. Arch.

Hold.

Hold. Hold.

Oh, God.

What?

For fuck's sake, what?

It's your physique.

What about my physique?

Oh, you who. Is there a spot of tea I
might have swung up from the kitchen?

Yes. And honey?

Lots of honey, yes.

Oh, you're a doll. What's your name?

Beatrice, sir. Oh, really?

Beatrice? That's your real name?

Yes, sir. An oriental maid named
Beatrice.

What a chinky little thrill.

Fucking asshole.

Listen, Lily, I pick and choose my
battles with you. You understand this

in America, yes?

I understand the saying, yes, I do not
understand you. You're just not telling

me the fantasy, darling. And as I've
said time and time again to you and to

I just don't see it.

I just don't know how to get you there.

Then I will speak to Mr.

Henry and have him find me someone who
will get me there. Oh, you wouldn't

and he would never get rid of me.

Who do you think he'll side with?

An old act who couldn't sport talent if
you fucked him in the face? Or who, you,

his whore?

I will go to Paris.

And I will dance.

Dream, baby, dream.

Oh, my goodness.

Isn't that something?

Ma 'am, I've had the carriage brought
around. I thought today would be a

day for a drive.

Drive? And a picnic, maybe. Really?
Didn't Ferdinand break his leg?

Is it?

Well,

how is the carriage going to be brought
around if Ferdinand has broken his leg?

Maybe he's healed.

Maybe he's healed.

Oh, my God.

Oh, look at that.

An amusement.

Isn't that marvelous?

This is spectacular.

Norman?

Norman?

Oh, you're almost at the finale. Can you
see the bearded man from Coney Island

in a musical number with a llama? A
llama. There's a llama.

Oh, my God.

Norman?

Can you hear those acoustics? That's two
cellos and a clarinet. Or two clarinets

and a cello. Norman, I need a word.

I'll have you know that I heard a word.
You are a genius, sir. You are a genius.

There's a rumor that this painter or
this artist or whatever it is that the

Rockmarion called him, he might be a
murderer.

Who's a murderer?

Oh, hello.

Oh.

Thomas. Thomas Edison.

I can't remember.

Yes, I know. I just didn't recognize you
because you've grown really old really

quickly.

I'm sorry. Do we know each other?

Shut up.

Well, the opinion of a woman.

Forever humbling, eh?

Oh, yeah.

The opinion of a woman. The work of a
woman. The plight of a woman.

I'm sorry. I don't follow that. Oh, I
get it all.

Marion. My name is Marion, as you very
well know.

Marion.

God of life.

Lovely name.

Oh, there's a shot.

I believe you both might have crossed
paths some years ago.

Marion was a university student. You
were a guest lecturer.

I believe the year was, oh, God.

1867. Yes, that's right. Yes.

Yeah. Now, I do recall a young student
named Marion, a bright, young,

independent thinker. I believe the line
was, she said, over my dead body, shall

I ever marry?

Mm -hmm.

Mm -hmm.

Mm -hmm.

Yes.

Here we are. Married all the same. Yes.

Married and seemingly happy.

Happy and fulfilled, yeah?

Norman. Norman. Norman. Norman!

Norman! Would you please just have a
word with the painter or whatever it is

call him before we lose the last of our
help? Good day.

Come.

My apologies, Mr. Anderson, for her
outburst. She's... She's a woman.

You'll excuse me just a moment.

She didn't mean anything about the help,
I assure you. She's just... Just excuse

me just a moment.

I knew you had such a grip on you. I'll
show you more than a grip. You screw

this up for me. Funny you could have
been this assertive when we shared a bed

together.

There you are.

Apologies.

Busy day, big day, busy.

You know the ones, I'm sure.

You heard of Thomas Edison?

Is that name wafted across the pond?

He's here today.

He's in the house.

I told you, quite eccentric.

What is this animal?

It's from my trip to South Africa.

I was of the U .S. contingent. It was a
good world trip through Grant.

You lift Jesus Grant, former president
of the United States. I am French.

He's a dear friend. Why do I care about
your president?

I imagine you don't. I ask you what the
animal, and you tell me that you have a

friend. It's a story, I would say.

You're inquiring about the buck, that's
all.

Listen, I'm on a bit of a schedule.

I simply wanted to inquire about your
demeanor in the house.

It isn't me, it's my wife.

She's, um...

What do you know about art?

I know you're one of those
impressionists.

You make quite a ruckus over there, I've
heard.

So you read the press?

No, I've heard.

So you don't read?

Do you? A bit.

Which I imagine you do not.

Therefore, you're either a well -read
intellectual who finds his passion

the page, or a soulless twat inspired by
paper bills.

I am dealing with.

Whether my art is to be understood or
merely a

carcass on your wall.

Yes.

Well. Tea.

I am going to Paris.

You can help or you can get the fuck
out!

You wench!

Get back here!

Have you met your handsome subjects yet?

They're fidgety.

They're dogs.

Fidgety in their soul.

Perhaps they are uncomfortable with
their existence in your world.

Who isn't?

Are you uncomfortable?

Sitting here with you?

Quiet.

I will need my twice -over quoted fee.

I'm sorry.

Perhaps you prefer to shoot the bitches
and mount them on your wall.

Next to this other, uh... It's a buck.

What?

Uh -huh.

You can pay in cash.

Cash? Oui.

I don't deal in cash.

Oh. I'm a man of means. I don't deal in
cash.

Are you broke?

I beg your pardon? I asked if you were
broke.

No, I'm not broke.

No need to be ashamed.

I am broke.

That's why I'm here, painting your
fucking puddles.

I'm not broke.

I don't take credit.

So I will reside on the property until I
may collect my fee. Could take weeks to

wait on the banks. Painting must remain
in my possession. I could send you along

with a promissory note. I will not take
a promissory note. Emma Henry, a

promissory note, you can rest assured.
I'm sure you will find a way there.

Always do.

Would you be so kind as to have somebody
show me to my quarters?

Somebody's out the door. Just open the
door and someone will help you.

Mr. Edison is waiting.

Sir?

Sir? Mr.

Edison? Oh, yes.

Thank you.

How was he? How was he? He was French.
He was very fucking French. What does

that mean? I mean, you know what we say
in your own home? I didn't pay you the

attention you desire, Marion. Is that
why you act like a petulant child today

all days?

Anything to sabotage a deal with Thomas
Edison.

I need to close.

The deal. He is a liar and a cheat.

He is Thomas Edison. He is Thomas
fucking Edison.

You will bite your tongue, Marion, and
you will know your place, woman.

You stay here another minute.

You're a wench. You think I need you?

You are a stupid whore with a crooked
pussy. Of course I'm a stupid whore. I'm

ballerina. A great fucking ballerina on
my way to Paris. Or you go back to your

little show with the dancing monkeys
with the little midges with the funny

You're the dancing monkey. My show was
reviewed by the Times. In God's name.

fucking Times.

Mr. Henry, look at what she's done to my
face. Lily, Lily.

The fraud is fucking fraud. He takes
your money and sleeps on my thighs.

not true. I often work with my eyes
closed.

St. Mary with her fake virgin pussy. Mr.
Henry, Mr. Henry. She's a cunt, Norman.

Yes, well.

Who's a cunt?

Oh, Jesus.

Hello, Mrs. Henry.

Marriott, who is a cunt?

Apologies for the language, ma 'am.

Marriott, leave it.

Just leave it. I was speaking to
Marriott, Mr. Smith.

Yeah. You know, let's just all journey
back to our quarters.

We can discuss this over drinks in the
parlor later, because I have meetings. I

have very important meetings. Well,
perhaps I shall handle this so that you

you know, carry on with your very
important meetings.

Are you the cunt?

Am I the cunt?

Dear Helen, no.

Is she the cunt? Or my husband?

Oh, no.

Marion! I implore you to leave this
alone!

Shut up, Marion.

Marion, Marion!

Well, I think you're all fucking cunts
and leeches. That's what I think.

Mr. Henry, Mr.

Henry is coming this way.

You are a fucking cow of a woman.

You're making me sweat. Just for once.
Look, I want to say something, Mary.

You must feel trapped by him. Do you? Do
you feel trapped living with him? You

should feel trapped. You know why?
Because you are trapped just like the

us. We're like mutts in a cage of... No,
canaries in a cage of... You know what

I mean? The fucking metaphor about
cages. Shut up, woman. Shut up. These

they lie to us. I never lie. They tie us
with their kind eyes.

Mary, shut it.

Shut up. Are you trying to say to me?
Marion, he doesn't have it. He doesn't

have it within him to say. A woman was
never to be published. I did you a

You are never going to go to Paris.
Quite a brazen one at that. You are

going to Paris.

Do you hear me? You bet on the wrong
pony and you lost.

We all did.

The rest of it, that's just a matter of
chance.

You lost, I lost.

Shut up.

Not mine. Shut up, Marion.

I'm getting the sense this isn't
entirely about me. Marion!

Marion! God damn it!

Oh,

God.

Oh, God.

Oh, God.

Well, would you look at that? He's out
cold.

Where is my fucking room?

Ensemble!

Norman, Norman!

It's Marion.

He's not going to kill you.

He's just French.

Sir, I'll show you to your room.

Your room, this way, sir.

My husband was right about one thing.

It wasn't me who'd end up dead.