All language subtitles for The Artist s01e02

What is there to say about Thomas Edison
that hasn't already been written?

Well,

let me tell you.

Hey. Hey.

Hi. Hi.

The year was 1867, and I was the very
first female student chosen to

at a very prestigious Ivy League
institution.

They called it the dawn of a new era.

Excuse me.

I'm looking for bioanthropology 215.

I'm curious if any of you lot might be
able to... Do you mind if I take a look?

Bioanthropology. Hmm.

215.

215.

215. Yes, 215.

You can read numbers quite well.

You know, I don't recall where that one
is.

Even though you're holding a biotech
book right there?

That's for something different.

Oh. I see.

I see.

You know, if a lot of you can't muster
up a decent retort, how do you expect to

charm your future wives one day?

Well, we can retort.

Sure you're telling yourselves it'll be
all about the money, huh?

But the truth is, women...

All over the country. The good ones,
anyway. They are just like me.

They're challenging themselves to find
unique purpose, to do better, to be

better.

Enlightened women.

I don't want enlightened women.

I don't think you'll have much say in
the matter after long.

All right.

Can you disagree?

Yes, they disagree.

Seems they disagree.

Come on.

Look at her. I mean, she's not a...
Serious person.

Look at her. Look at me.

I am.

Of the 6 ,072 submissions this year,
there were 908 admissions, which makes

all very smart and very elite. But this
fine lady, your name, fine lady?

Marion.

Ms. Marion, here.

Applied against an entirely separate
pool of applicants.

900 applicants, one slot.

Sure, I don't have to explain how ratios
work, but that makes her even more

elite than you.

And I believe that Marion, may I call
you that?

Okay. I believe the difference between
you lot and Marion is that she doesn't

believe that any of this was owed to
her.

You see, Marion knows that there are
plenty of women who deserve to be here,

there needs to be a first.

A catalyst that sparks change throughout
the world.

So I suppose what I'm trying to say is
that you're absolutely right about

They don't need to be enlightened.

But in fact, most already are.

Just simply waiting in the wings for the
right moment.

Rest assured, I most certainly was not
in need of his savings.

If anything, you might say that I
unknowingly saved him.

Dear reader, I must warn that if it is
indeed this narrow love story that you

yearn for, I might encourage you to look
elsewhere.

The story is a bit more complex than
Sinister.

What's this?

It's what?

Nothing,

nothing, nothing. It's nothing.

I just mean to say it's not ready yet.

I don't know. It's far -fetched.

Please, please don't judge me. I truly
am a realist.

You know, I don't expect it to go
anywhere.

God, listen to me talking myself in
circles. I should really just shut up

stop talking myself in circles, but here
I am.

It's really nothing.

property, Celia. Choke on your mother's
tit.

Tell me I didn't just see what I just
saw. What do you think you saw?

Don't tell me, Celia.

Filthy, filthy place.

Marian,

I implore you to leave this.

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

Shut up, woman. Shut up.

I never lied.

Please. A woman was never to be
published. I did you a favor. Lie to us

your kind eyes.

You are never going to go to Paris.

Shut up, Marion.

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

Marion!

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

Where is my fucking room?

Where is my fucking room?

My job!

Norman. Norman.

Norman. Where is my fucking room?

Ma 'am! Sir, I'll show you to your room.

This way, sir.

To your right, sir. To your right.

Sir. No.

Sir. What?

Sir. The bell is broken.

Doctor! Try to tell him that the bell is
broken. You're in a manic bed.

This is why he lost all of his
businesses. He can't keep it together

pressure. I'm begging you to use
discretion.

I am begging you. I am begging you.

Oh, oh, oh, you don't want Thomas to
hear? Anybody who doesn't need beer,

go away. Thomas can't go to the window
right now as it appears that he's truly

cold under. Doctor! Doctor!

Doctor! Doctor!

Lily. Lily.

Lily, where are you going?

To my tent.

To wait.

For what?

To be cold.

Because I am a whore.

He says I'm a stupid whore.

Because I'm not even dead.

Don't be so dramatic.

We're all whores.

Lily, don't you do anything brash.

Lily!

Oh, you cunt!

He's nothing but smoke and mirrors. He's
better off dead. Marion, if you can

contribute at least one thing to this
family, it will be to help me revive

man. Well, um, I think you should get
that bell fixed. Now, that's a

contribution if you ask me, because, you
know...

You never know when you're going to need
some power. Thank you, thank you.

Doctor! I'm quite old.

Doctor, doctor, doctor!

Doctor, doctor!

Doctor!

Oh.

Oh.

Hey. Hey.

Hi. Hi.

Oh, your wife's a cunt.

Look, please, this is tremendous
foolishness now. Please.

How long was he out cold?

Probably ten minutes. I have to be on my
way, all right? This is foolishness.

Mr. Edison, please, follow my finger.

Would you like me to leave with my chin?
No, only the eyes.

But, okay.

That was the chin.

I wouldn't recommend he drive tonight.

Fine, it is settled.

No, nothing's settled.

What's settled?

There's something called a cerebral
edema. Do you know what that is? Never

life have I been more accosted. I was
assaulted, really.

My lawyer is going to be my first letter
upon my release from this prison stint

that is this hellscape that you call
Rhode Island. Oh, Mr. Anderson, please,

was nothing more than the slip of a... I
ought to leave the fine state of Rhode

Island quite out of it. Oh, it was a
slip of nothing. It was positively

intentional, and she needs a real
talking to. Sir, sir, I would never

intentionally. What, what?

What did you say? Your wife, sir, needs
a real talking to.

Call me if you feel any dizziness or you
see black spots.

I should sue is what I should do for
libel.

Mr. Edison, it feels a bit brusque.

That feels terse to you, does it?

Can I ask you something? Yes.

Honestly. Please. Are you a serious man?

I believe you know the answer to that.

Look around you. Because I drove for
hours to the middle of nowhere because I

was told that you were someone.

who would not waste my time. And for
that, I shall write you a big fat check

favorable terms, of course.

Yeah, you're going to award me more than
that.

What are you implying?

I'm going to need a formal apology from
your wife, sir, before a deal can be

done. And let me tell you something.

Any deal that could be done, so it shall
be done. And when it is, it's going to

make you more money than you've ever
seen in your life.

And let me tell you, it's saying
something.

Ask your robber baron friends.

Well, of course she'll apologize, Mr.
Edison. She's not a peasant.

She's a Henry.

She's a Henry for fuck's sake. There's a
few other things, too.

D 'autant plus parce que je ne te
reverrai jamais, peu importe le ballet.

Maman, je ne me suis jamais sentie aussi
seule de toute ma vie.

Yes,

Norman, what is it?

My husband.

Thomas Edison is not a business dealing.
He is an ass fucker. I told you that.

You don't tell me what a business
dealing is. Norman.

I would ask you to take two big deep
breaths before you speak to me again.

You're acting with such savagery and
barbarism that it's hard to... Savagery

barbarism? Norman, you're the one
who's... Let me finish!

Warthog!

You might think me a dim -witted
opportunist, but you need to set your

differences aside now for the betterment
of the Henry name.

Mr. Edison has asked for an apology.

I, for one, think that's a good idea.

I owe him nothing.

And you're the one who punched him. You
know what I think it is?

I think you can't conceive that an
uneducated man like him... Uneducated.

Say that again. ...may try to claw his
way out of the rat -infested rungs of

society... The rungs of society...
...and make something of his life

having to marry up.

You will apologize in the morning.

I know you can hear me.

I know you're not asleep yet.

You think you're the first artist who's
ever whored herself for a warm bed

and a loaf of stale bread?

You disgust me!

Do you know that? I loathe you. And not
because you're an unadulterated cunt.

But because you somehow actually believe
that your talent means something more

than all the others.

You believe that you're better than all
of us girls. And you're not. You're

nothing.

You're a passionate nothing.

So don't you fuck us.

Do you hear me?

Don't even think about fucking this all
up.

Look at me.

Look at me!

I hit ambition once, too.

You know that, don't you?

I was reviewed by the time.

When you create something, even if it
lasts but only for a moment, something

believe to be truly remarkable and
singular in this world. You have to stay

outside the house. Wait until you're
summoned, Lily.

Dear!

And then to have it ripped away.

without an ounce of acknowledgement by a
complete and utter nobody.

You'd think, perhaps, that one might
feel rage, bitterness.

But the truth is, the truth is, I could
never get past the shame.

Because it was always my fault.

Tell me she's a liar.

Tell me she's a liar, Baldwin.

I will go to Paris, yes.

I

will

see you at that stage in Paris.

It's the very, very last thing I do.

Annoying self -hatred that rattles you
to your core.

Deep down, you know that you're better
than the bed you've made.

Well, we did what?

What did Tom do?

He figured the whole damn thing out.

Direct current. Using direct current, we
can generate heat, just like the

candles in this very room, only it is
enclosed within a glass tube. But what

does it mean?

Just speak plainly, you louse.

It's a candle that can burn forever
without ever needing tending.

Congratulations Thomas.

I am so very proud of what you have
accomplished.

Continue us for a minute.

Pardon me, miss.

Oh, it's okay.

I thought you were asleep by now. I
didn't realize I drew your curtains

half past.

I'm very sorry. I suppose that's the
reason.

I'm very sorry, Miss.

Ida?

Are you frightened of me?

Pardon, Miss?

I sense a liberal amount of anxiety
pulse through your veins every time I

corner.

I see.

Is it like that with Mr. Henry, too?

It's okay, you may go.

I'm not frightened, miss.

You just confused me, is all.

Good evening, ma 'am.

You! Sit in at the table for me. Take my
plates.

Me!

Are you with Hound?

Am I with what?

The poodles!

Are you with the poodles?

Yes, sir.

It's our evening walk.

Are they the very same poodles that I
paint?

Yes, sir.

They seem less fidgety in the twilight.

Well, I suppose maybe they are, perhaps.
Less fidgety in the evening.

So we paint in the evenings.

Do you hear?

It's all right.

For an artist who painted poodles, his
passion was surprisingly

palpable.

Passion I hadn't felt in years.

And for just a moment, I felt like a
woman again.

dangerous woman with her own thoughts
and her own

ideas and quite a bit of power.

I asked myself if anyone might hear him
gasping for breath if I strangled him

right then and there with a pillow.

I can feel it.

But the truth remained, I didn't hold
the power.

He did.

Oh, how history might have been written
differently had I not lost myself in

him. What's inside of a boundary? Copper
wire? No. What's inside of a boundary?

Both of them.

Instead,

I cut empty.

powerless, on the floor of a home that
was in my husband's name.

A home that we would not be able to
afford without the proceeds from a deal

this man who had ruined me.

I told myself at no point would I wallow
in self -pity as I write to you.

So I deleted that sweet break for an
intermission so that I might regain my

composure.

Come one, come all to the city that
never sleeps, New York City.

Rub shoulders with the high society
elite at the Madison Square Garden

theater designed by acclaimed architect
Stanford White.

Feast your senses upon the greatest
arena in this world, famous Metropolis.

The only building on the island with a
rooftop cabaret now open Sundays.

The following morning was a Tuesday.

I knew that because there had been a
murder in the city the night before.

This was one of those unconnected events
that would ultimately contribute to my

husband's untimely demise.

Fucking hate the city.

No, I think that the missus was shagging
Mr. Edison yesterday.

Oh,

deplorable. Absolutely deplorable.

Have you seen this?

Huh? What? The murder of Sandy White.

Absolutely unbelievable.

He was so proud of the rooftop at the
garden. Have you been up there?

Madison Square Garden?

Of course, of course.

Yeah, but have you been up top at the
cabaret there?

It's absolutely wonderful.

View of the city in every direction. Mr.
Edison, I've just said I've been.

I wasn't exactly sure if you had.

What made you unsure?

I think it was your tone, sir.

Morning, Mary. Morning.

Morning, Mary.

Morning.

Have you heard?

Uh, yes, it's deplorable, it is.

Absolutely deplorable.

Mary always struck me as a man I'd never
want to find myself alone in a room

with. Well, of course not, you're a
married woman.

Oh, yes, I agree with that.

Married women should definitely not be
left unattended in rooms and, uh, such.

Well, he has just murdered a man, so I
imagine it's more than just, you know,

the married woman thing, wouldn't you
think?

I'm sorry, do you know the murderer?

Yes, yes, we do. Well, you know, he is
an associate of Norman's to some degree

or other, so we've had them over and
they've had us over here.

Well,

isn't that a little bit troubling?

I'm one signature away from being the
associate of an associate of murderers.

Harry's always had a screw loose.

Darling, remember the time... At the
race horses.

Yeah, but, you know, was that even his
real mother? Well, not when he was done

with her.

It was a note on prison letterhead from
the murderer himself.

I'll take care of poor Evelyn until it's
time for her to testify on my behalf.

I'm afraid she's my only way out of this
mess.

Mess?

Murder. Misunderstanding. Write that.

Misunderstanding.

Am I to suggest that you distance
yourself from this person? I mean...

He's a madman, isn't he?

Playing devil's advocate a moment
because... Weren't you meant to be on

way? I was meant to, yes. Sanford White
did rape her, if I'm not mistaken. The

incident happened... Plenty of times.
...before they even met.

So, why linger?

What's a man to do? I'd at least sit by
him. It's a glorious morning out here,

Marion. But raping's a raping, if you
ask me. Yeah, but Harry is a murderer.

Do you not find your wife's tone a
little bit troubling? Are you still

Tone, Marion.

Tone. Tone. You seem so bitter, Marion.
So very bitter. And yet, apparently,

you've been handed the world.

How dare you?

You just don't seem happy, Marion.

Well, I am happy.

Well. Be sure there's not an ounce of
regret, not a shred, nothing.

Wow, you bitter, lonely little man.

Is that all you have left, is it?

The need to placate your wrongdoings by
trying to force me to admit that I might

have been better off?

I'm not following. What does placate
mean?

What? Placate is to mollify.

To appease. Norman, I have told you what
this man is. Why won't you believe me?

I mean, I know I am, I am tempestuous.
Have you ever known me to be a liar?

the fuck does mollify mean?

What am I, Marion?

Hmm? No, what am I? Step away from me.
Don't shout, Marion.

I'm not shouting. I'm calm. I am
completely calm and collected. You know,

man who invented the light bulb. For
heaven's sake, give him some respect.

I'll touch that glass.

You don't touch that glass, Gretchen.

It's not your mess to clean up.

No, you're right about that.

You are absolutely right about that.

Well, I guess that's my cue.

Norman, he did not invent the light
bulb.

Oh, Marion. Norman, please.

He did not invent...

The light. I suppose you know who did.

Huh.

Pardon him.

I'm so very sorry that you've had to
endure such preposterous ridicule.

You have my sympathy for what you have
to put up with on a daily basis.

Crazy trot.

You left your books.

Just leave them.

Here, you will need these, I assure you.
Just leave them. Just fucking leave

them. Marion, you need to calm down.

The nerve.

And I want to say men.

The nerve of men. But no, I've come to
the realization that you are not men.

No.

No, you are so much worse.

And you can take this entire institution
and suck it.

What am I even saying? You're not even a
member of this institution. You're a

squatter. A research assistant.

Yeah, you're nothing.

How can you do that?

After what you just did to me, you
smile?

You stand there with a smugness that
permed to my very core and...

Makes me want to take a boxing.

I'm very sorry, Mary, but I'm entirely
confounded by this behavior. It's not

very ladylike at all, I'm afraid. Oh,
you're confounded?

Are you dumb?

Are you mentally retarded?

Keep your voice down. I said, are you
mentally fucking retarded?

Mary, I would just watch my tone if I
were you. What?

I was always going to add your name to
the work, but you know as well as I do.

That women can't publish on their own?
Yes.

But they will.

I will.

You've stolen my work,

Tom. Mary, we're a team. You're not. No,
no, we are not.

We are not a team at this.

My mind.

My thoughts.

not communal. They are wholly mine.

Will you just marry me?

I

will

never ever marry you, Thomas.

Not ever!

Merde! Putain!

Shut up!

Putain! Shut up!

Putain de merde!

Shut up!

Do you ever speak to me like that? Do
you hear me?

Ever! I have had quite the morning of
abuse, and I will not be spoken to like

that by a fake fucking artist who
paints...

I hear you.

How are you?

Careful.

Everything all right?

Look, look.

Now he comes to rescue her from the
crazy freshman.

He's so possessive of her.

Oh, he doesn't love her.

I believe he does.

Well, you're stupid.

Honey, if he loved her, why would he be
parading you around like his little

pony?

He's a complicated man.

The painting is finished.

It is? It is.

Would you like to see it?

She thinks it a foolish venture.

My commissioning poodles.

Yes, well, I don't usually paint
poodles.

What do you usually paint?

Oh, look at her.

She's just begging to be fucked.

You see how she looks at the artist. She
can't help herself.

Why don't you have the painting brought
to my study, then we'll settle up and

you can get on your way.

Now, now.

Good time, now.

Now.

Please.

terrifying woman.

I mean, I can understand why he can't,
you know, make the whole thing work.

Are you scared of powerful women?

Not all of them.

She's the reason I brought me back to
Paris.

Well, I can't understand that logic.

She doesn't believe I deserve to
succeed.

She'd rather seem trapped in a cage with
a...

Living in a circle of hell over and over
again. Oh, darling, it just doesn't add

up. If it were up to Marion, she would
have sent you back to Paris months ago.

She hates you, Lily.

All right.

Les saisons, Gunther, please.

From the top.

You know, for a smart girl, you're
really quite daft about the dynamics

the country.

Marion.

Yeah? I'm sorry.

What for?

For not understanding you in the way a
husband should, I suppose.

I do wish sometimes, just sometimes, you
could simply

speak truth and honesty instead of
dancing

around your thoughts like a romantic.

Maybe I am romantic.

Well, you're not French, thank God.

I told you the truth, Norman.

In simple terms, I told you the truth.
He left, Marion.

He can quit the charade. He's gone about
his business.

All done now.

Truth doesn't matter anyway.

If you're my wife, well, here we are.

Ironically, the feeling of resignation
that sat squarely between his eyes that

day was the very same emotion that I had
wrestled with for most of our marriage.

Well, um... Wolf...

I appreciate that, Norman.

You know, for trusting me on this one.

Thank you.

There'll be other deals, I promise.

But unfortunately, the truth was, for
Norman Henry, there would be no other

deal ever again.

Thank you.