Original subtitles

- [static] - ?

[scratching on parchment]

[scratching on parchment]

?

?

?

?

[Marian sighs]

[scratching on parchment]

?

Mrs. Henry, ma'am.

They got him down the stairs.

Take your time.

Thank you, Gretchen.

Marian Henry: Dear reader, this is not a story

in the conventional sense.

You see, nothing is neat and tidy,

nor is it laid ou 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 the very end as not to dramatize.

[maids grunt and struggle]

?

Marian: 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.

?

Marian: You see, this is not a tale of murder.

This is a story of rebirth.

?

?

Marian: I suppose the reaso I say all of this is to perhaps

inspire you to look at this series of events

from a different perspective.

Mine.

- ? - [flames crackle]

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?

[rooster crows]

Marian: This story would begi the morning The Artist arrived.

He was suppose to be delivered the night prior,

but I did not know this yet.

Cook: Come on, you.

[mumbles]

Service.

Service!

Service.

Marian: My husband and were in that period of marriage

where we loathed each other.

I still had not forgiven him for selling our brownstone

and moving us up to the country--

Is that the pheasant you're eating?

You have eyes, don't you?

Marian:--where we didn't have so much as a working kitchen.

Service!

Are there are they gonna be out there all winter?

I mean, it's fucking freezing.

It's winter.

I'm meeting tomorrow with Mr. Edison

on a business opportunity.

Marian: Thomas Edison.

?

He's over at the Morgan's, and, well, now he's coming up

to the house tomorrow.

Might very well reverse our little conundrum

if we can time this right.

Andrew's invested twice.

Both times they saw a return 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, too.

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.

Norman: 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 had assumed.

?

Ferdinand: 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?

[Edgar speaks French]

I sense some frustration.

[Edgar laughs and speaks French]

What was that?

Are you a Jew?

No, sir.

Well, I don't think so anyway.

- [vehicle approaching] - ?

- You hear that? - Edgar Degas: What?

A car.

[passenger laughs]

- It's a car. - Stop it.

Hey! Hey! Hey!

[smack]

[Ferdinand moans]

?

This pheasant's old.

It's left overfrom something or other.

[sighs]

How's the regiment?

Well, look at me.

- I'm looking. - So?

Norman: You look as tempestuous as the day I met you,

only 40 years older.

Ludwig says I'm almost ready.

For what?

You know, a jaunt, sparring, fight.

Norman: You're not fighting.

You're not a fighter.

Maybe I could win a match or two.

- Poor people, they fight. - Marian: You know--

They have something to fight for.

- --bring in a little income. - No, damn it, Marian.

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 likes 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.

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.

Cook [from outside]: Service!

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

[bell ringing]

?

Marian: The night would progress with normalcy.

I would insist on a performance from his ballerina.

Rachmaninoff.

A prelude perhaps.

Norman: Not a prelude, not tonight.

I have meetings tomorrow.

It's C-sharp minor.

- Norman: 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.

Marian: It would be "The Prelude in C-sharp Minor."

[yelling in French]

?

Are you using the piece?

- Yes, of course. - She toys with us.

Marian: I did toy with them.

Gunther: Think of it this way.

You'll be the first ballerina to ever dance

to a Rachmaninoff prelude.

Let's get on with it.

?

?

Marian: Before you judge me and my circumstance,

I implore you to read until the bitter end.

It is only on the final page othis journal that you might be

well enough equipped to tell fact from fiction,

hero from villain.

?

?

?

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?

Find me Ludwig.

[bell rings]

- ? - [sharp breaths]

Ludwig: Jab.

Jab. Very good.

Jab!

Jab.

?

?

[speaks French]

The French, it's sexy, but in moderation.

I asked if you approved my dancing this evening.

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.

[Marian growls]

Ludwig: Jab, jab.

Very good.

Jab!

- [Marian snarls] - Ludwig: Jab, good!

These are circumstances that are sometimes

lost on young beautiful ballerinas.

Complexities you shouldn't bore yourself with.

You have real talent.

Marian: It was the very same line he used on me--

You have all sorts of talent.

Marian:--before I was demotedto hobbyist.

?

?

?

Careful.

Imagine your perfect little dancer girl

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?

To see me in Paris?

?

Norman: Oh my god.

I would love to see you in Paris.

?

Marian: The girl and I were not all that different.

She was young and optimistic, filled with purpose.

- [chatter and commotion] - ?

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

Subconsciously hoping she migh avoid the mistakes I had made.

?

Marian: I think there was a partof her that reminded me

what it felt like to be alive.

?

Younger Marian: Congratulations, Thomas.

?

I am so very proud of what you have accomplished.

?

?

?

[footsteps approaching]

[thud]

Move your ass.

- ? - [chatter]

?

?

- ? - [fire crackles]

? Oh my darling, Oh my darling

? Oh my darling Clementine

? I was lost and gone forever

? Dreadful sorry Clementine

? In a cavern, In a canyon

- ? Excavating for a mine - [knock on door]

Yes, Norman?

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

- With Thomas Edison, yes. - Norman: Good. Good.

Is that all?

? Dreadful sorry, Clementine

I also have an artist coming tomorrow.

- You should know. - What artist?

Norman: Someone the Rockefellersintroduced us to.

Apparently, everyone's meetingwith 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

of the forehead.

The many creases.

Norman: Or when it's too late and we're left with nothing,

and our neighbors with the classics.

Not this time, Marian.

Look at me being passionate impulsive man you married.

Are you proud?

Huh?

You should be proud.

Norman, what are you talking about?

Have you commissioned something?

No, no, no, nothing major.

No.

Norman: You know how time works, Marian.

The Rockefellers, William, even Andrew.

No, Andrew is a Carnegie.

- Well, I'm a Henry. - Oh, my God.

- I miss the city. - ?

Good for you.

I refuse to sit and have my portrait taken for an artist.

I wouldn't expect it.

He'll paint the poodles.

?

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

Marian: It was just like that.

His fate had been sealed for a portrait of poodles.

- ? - [grunting and groaning]

- [Edgar grunts] - [Ferdinand groans]

[Ferdinand breaths heavily]

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

Edgar: Yes.

Ferdinand: 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 estate will be the only house with lights.

It's very dark.

- It's very, very dark. - Ferdinand: Yes.

And I cannot see very well after dusk.

[Ferdinand gasps]

I understand that you do not know much about me,

but know this.

I'm all but blind, huh?

- ? - You're a blind artist?

?

[Ferdinand groans]

?

[mutters in French]

[mutters in French]

- ? - [speaks French]

Edgar: Leave them.

They're just monkeys.

- Marionettes. - [Ferdinand groans]

- Sir. - Edgar: What?

This is pretty good for a blind guy.

?

Marian: We shall now take a short intermission

while the artist fumbles around in the woods.

[film reel clicks]

News Reel Commentator Thomas Edison has done it again,

only this time it's the movin 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 o the light bulb, the kinetophone.

Don't wait, purchase your stock today.

- ? - [film reel clicks]

?

Marian: He walked all night, unable to find the house

until dawn.

?

?

Who the fuck are you?

- [motor rumbles] - [Ferdinand screaming]

[Ferdinand groaning]

Happy meeting day, sir, Mr. Henry.

- Is she awake? - Gretchen: Not yet, sir.

You see to it she stays occupied, yes?

- All day. - Yes, sir.

I don't need tomfoolery today.

To the best of my ability, sir.

Tell me, has she ever shared with you the history?

- History, sir? - With Thomas Edison.

[Ferdinand yelping from outside]

Norman: 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.

Yes, sir.

Norman: Gretchen, Gretchen, Gretchen.

Yes, sir.

Keep her occupied all day, yes?

All day, sir.

Let's go, let's go, let's go.

- [Ferdinand screaming] - ?

[grunting]

[Ferdinand screaming]

[Ferdinand screaming]

[Ferdinand screaming and crying]

- [Ferdinand screaming] - Good luck, doctor.

It appears you've lost blood.

It might be safe to assume that you are hallucinating

at this very moment.

- ? - [Ferdinand screams]

Gretchen: Mrs. Henry?

- Mrs. Henry? - Yeah, I'm in here.

Gretchen: Is everything all right, ma'am?

Marian: Of course it's all right.

Why wouldn't it be all right?

It's just normally you're lying in the bed

until I pull the curtains.

Well, I just thought a 6 am bath would be just sprightly

on a day like today.

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--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.

[deep sigh]

Find me Ludwig.

[rooster crows]

- ? - [bells ring]

- Damn it. - [bell rings]

?

Excuse me.

Have I missed breakfast?

Hello.

You look unhoused.

?

Artist.

The hounds are ready for you.

- [horse neighs] - [dogs bark]

?

- Norman: Mr. Edison. - Thomas Edison: Ah!

I trust your journey was refreshing.

- It was nippy. - Nippy, yes, yes, yes.

Nippy.

Well, tell me, was it--was it the polo match in Atlantic City?

Was what the polo match in Atlantic City?

When 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 were after.

Something dramatic and something, well,

very daring.

Yes, that is exactly right.

Something with dramatic upside, I should say.

Well, my portfolio does notexist merely as a means

to fuel your wealth, sir.

What is it then?

[chuckles]

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 itunless your personal fulfillment

comes from truly changing the world.

Where are you due for supper?

- What? - Who's home?

My own, Mr. Henry.

Let's get started, shall we?

Yes.

[piano keys pressed]

I'd like to try a number fromLes Saisons.

Les Saisons. Les Saisons.

It's always a number fromLes Saisons.

Oh, is it?

- [birds chirp] - [rooster crows]

[dogs bark]

- ? - [rooster crows]

- ? - [dogs panting]

[dog whimpers]

?

- Fucking poodles. - [dog barks]

?

Marius: And one and two and three and four,

and one and two and three and four,

and spin.

- [sharp breaths] - Have you hired new help?

Ludwig, you just speak plainly.

Ludwig: A wizard man with godless eyes.

He's been roaming the kitchen aimlessly.

Hands up.

?

- [dog whimpers] - ??

?

[speaks French]

[sharp breaths]

The artist, maybe?

Ludwig: That might make sense.

Put your eyes right in there.

There you go.

I'm gonna lower these over your ears.

They should be quite comfortable.

- Norman: I don't see anything. - Not yet.

This is the first of its kind.

- You understand this? - Norman: All right.

Thomas: Immersive entertainment.

A moving picture with music.

Hands up.

He has that deep sense of utter darkness.

Marian: Darkness?

?

?

[emotional sigh]

Marius: And one and two and three and four,

and back arch.

Darkness.

Ludwig, what do you mean?

Like that of a murderer.

A murderer?

In my house?

- ? - [crying]

?

Oh, mon dieu.

?

- [barking] - [speaking French]

- [crying and sniffling] - [dog barks]

??

Marian: Now any accusation of murder

is one we most always take seriously.

I have to speak to Norman about this.

- [breathing sharply] - ?

Yep, Norman, I have to speak to Norman.

[Marian growls]

Marian: Even if the accusation is completely

and utterly without merit.

?

Marius: Back arch.

Hold.

Hold, hold.

Ugh.

What?

For fuck's sake, what?

- It's your physique. - What about my physique?

[airy chuckle]

Oh, yoo-hoo, is there a spot of tea

I might have swung up from the kitchen?

- Beatrice: Yes. - Marius: And honey?

- Lots of honey. - Beatrice: Yes.

Oh, you're a doll.

- What's your name? - Beatrice, sir.

Marius: Oh, really, Beatrice?

- That's your real name? - Beatrice: Yes, sir.

An oriental maid named Beatrice.

What a chinky little thrill.

- [Marius chuckles] - Beatrice: Fucking asshole.

Marius: Listen, Lily, I pickand choose my battles with you.

You understand this saying in America, yes?

I understand this saying, yes; I do not understand you.

You're just not selling me the fantasy, darling,

and as I've said time and time again,

to you and to him, 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 dare,

and he would never get rid of me.

Who do you think he'll side with?

An old hack who couldn't spot talent

if it fucked him in the face?

Or who? You?

His whore?

I will go to Paris, and I will dance.

Dream baby, dream.

[Marius chuckles]

[sound winds up]

Oh, my.

- Oh, my goodness. - Isn't that something?

Gretchen: Ma'am, I've had the Paris brought around.

I thought today would be a perfect day for a drive

and a picnic, maybe.

Drive, really?

Didn't Ferdinand break his leg?

Is it?

- [Ferdinand screaming] - ?

Well, how is the carriage gonna brought around if Ferdinand

has broken his leg?

- Maybe he's healed. - Marian: Ha!

Maybe he's healed.

Oh my god.

Norman: Oh, wow, look at that.

- And the music. - Isn't that marvelous?

This is spectacular.

Marian: Norman?

Norman?

Oh, you're almost at the finale.

Can you see the bearded man from Coney Island

in musical number with a llama?

Norman: A llama. There's a llama.

[Norman laughs]

- Norman: Oh my god! - Norman?

Thomas: Can you hear those acoustics?

That's two cellos and a clarinet.

- Marian: Norman? - Or two clarinets and a cello--

Marian: Norman, I need a word.

I'll have you know that I heard a rumor--

Norman: You are a genius, sir.

Marian: There's a rumor that this painter or this artist

or whatever it is that the Rockefeller's call him--

Norman: Marian, can you just give us a moment please?

--he might be a murderer.

[sound slows to a stop]

[sound slows to a stop]

Who's a murderer?

Oh, hello.

Oh...

Thomas.

Thomas Edison.

- Norman: I can't move at all. - Marian: Yes, I know.

I just didn't recognize you

because you've grown really old really quickly.

[chuckles]

I'm sorry.

- Do we know each other? - Norman: Marian, shut up.

Well, opinion of a woman, forever humbling, eh?

Marian: Oh, yes.

The opinion of a woman, the work of a woman,

the plight of a woman.

I'm sorry, I don't follow that.

Norman: Oh, I can't get it off.

Marian.

My name is Marian, as you very well know.

- [Norman struggles] - Marian.

Norman: God almighty.

- Mm hmm. - Lovely name.

Oh, there's a shot.

[gasping and panting]

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

Marian was a university student.

You were a guest lecturer.

I believe the year was, oh god--

- 1867. - Yes, that's right.

- Yes. - Yeah.

Yeah, I do recall a young student named Marian,

a bright young independent thinker.

I believe the line was, she said, "Over my dead body

shall I ever marry."

[chuckles]

You.

Yes, well, here we are, all married all the same.

- Yes. - Married and seemingly happy.

Happy and fulfilled, yeah?

Norman, Norman, Norman!

Yes, yes.

Would you please just have a word with the painter

or whatever it is you call him before we lose

the last of our help?

Good day.

Cunt.

My apologies, Mr. Edison, for her outburst.

She's--she's a woman.

If 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.

?

Ooh!

I knew you had such a grip on you, Norman.

I'll show you more than a grip,

you screw this up for me.

If only 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.

?

Norman: You heard of Thomas Edison?

Is that name wafted across the pond?

He's here today.

He's in the house.

I'm told you're quite eccentric.

Mr. Henry, what is this animal?

Norman: It's from my trip to South Africa.

I was of the US contingent.

It was a goodwill trip through Grant.

Ulysses S. 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.

Edgar: I'd ask you about the animal,

and you tell me that you have a friend.

It's a story, I was saying.

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

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

- Cook: Service! - Edgar: Ah!

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.

- Edgar: So you don't read? - Do you?

I paint, which I imagine you do not.

Therefore, you're either a well-read intellectual

who finds his passion within the page,

or a soulless twat inspired by paper bills.

I like to know what I am dealing with,

whether my art is to be understood,

or merely a carcass on your wall.

[Edgar growls]

?

?

- [clatter] - Oh!

- [footsteps depart] - Yes.

Well.

?

[Marius slurps]

Tea?

?

?

- [smack] - Ow!

Oh, god.

I am going to Paris.

You can help or you can get the fuck out.

- ? - [Marius wails]

Oh! You wench.

Oh, 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, Mr. Henry?

Sitting here with you?

Quite.

I will need my twice-over quoted fee.

Absurd.

They're purebred poodles.

- Edgar: Are they? - Norman: Yes.

Perhaps you prefer to shoot the bitches

and mount them on your wall next to this other...

- It's a buck. - Twat.

Uh-huh.

Are you gonna pay in cash?

- Norman: Cash? - Edgar: Oui.

- I don't deal in cash. - Edgar: Oh.

I'm a man of means.

I don't deal in cash.

Edgar: Are you broke?

?

- I beg your pardon? - I asked if you are broke.

- No, I'm not broke. - No need to be ashamed.

I am broke.

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

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 remainin my possession.

I could send you along with a promissory note.

I will not take a promissory note.

Norman: I'm a Henry.

A promissory note, you can rest assured.

Edgar: I'm sure you will find a way.

The rich always do.

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

Somebody's out the door.

Just go open the door, and someone will help you.

- [doorknob clicks] - Edgar: Ah, merde.

- ? - [muttering in French]

?

Maid: Mr. Edison is waiting.

Sir?

- Sir? - Huh?

- Mr. Edison? - Oh, yes.

Thank you.

- Marian: So, so? - Not now, Marian.

How was he? How was he?

He was French.

He was very fucking French.

What does that mean to--I mean--

Am I not paying the attention you desire, Marian?

Is that why you act like a petulant child today

of all days?

Marian: 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, Marian,

and you will know your place, woman.

[Marius and Lilith arguing loudly]

You're a wench.

You think I need you?

Marius: You're a two-bit whore, with a crooked pussy.

Of course, I'm a two-bit whore,

and a ballerina.

A great fucking ballerina on my way to Paris,

while you go back your little show

with the dancing monkeys with the little midgets

with a funny hat.

You're the dancing monkey.

My show was reviewed byThe Times.

What in god's name is this?

Marius: Mr. Henry, look at what she's done to my face!

- Lily, Lily! - He's a fraud.

A fucking fraud.

He takes your money and sleeps on my time.

Marius: That's not true.

I often work with my eyes close.

St. Mary, with her fake virgin pussy.

- Mr. Henry, Mr. Henry. - Yes.

- She's a cunt, Norman. - Yes, well, I don't know--

Who's a cunt?

Oh, Jesus.

Hello, Mrs. Henry.

Marius, who is a cunt?

Marius: Apologies for the language, ma'am.

Marian, leave it.

Just leave it.

I was speaking to Marius.

- Mr. Henry. - 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 show him this so that you can, you know,

carry on with your very important meetings.

Are you the cunt?

Am I the cunt?

[gasps] Dear Lilith, no!

Is she the cunt?

Or my husband?

Oh, no!

Marian, I implore you to leave this alone!

Shut up, Marian.

Marian, Marian!

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

That's what I think.

- Marian! - Mr. Henry.

Mr. Henry he's coming this way.

Yes.

You are a fucking cow of a woman.

Ooh, you're making me sweat just for once.

Look, I want to say something, Marian.

Marian: You must feel trappedby him.

Do you?

Do you feel trapped living with this louse?

You should feel trapped. You know why?

Because you are trapped just like the rest of us.

We're like mutts in a cage of--no.

Canaries in a kit--you know what I mean?

A fucking metaphor about cages.

- Shut up, woman, shut up. - Marian: See these men?

- They lie to us-- - I never lied.

- --with their kind eyes. - Marian, shut it. Shut it.

What are you trying to say to me?

- Marian. - He doesn't have it.

He doesn't have it within him to set you free.

A woman was never to be published.

- Never. - I did you a favor.

You are never gonna go to Paris.

A brazen one, at that?

Marian: You are never going to Paris.

Do you hear me?

You bet on the wrong pony, and you lost.

We all did.

The rest of it, that just doesn't matter

because you lost, I lost.

- Shut up. - We all lost.

Shut up, Marian.

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

Norman: Marian? Marian!

- Goddamn it! - [smack]

[thud]

Oh god.

Oh god, no.

Well, would you look at that?

He's out cold.

[laughs]

Where is my fucking room?

Mon chambre?

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Edgar: Where is it?

Norman, Norman, Norman.

Relax, Marian.

He's not gonna kill you.

He's just French.

Sir, I'll show you to your room.

Your room.

This way, sir.

Marian: My husband was right about one thing.

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

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