All language subtitles for Doctor.Who.2005.S05E10

So this is one of the last paintings
Van Gogh ever painted.

Those final months of his life

were probably the most astonishing
artistic outpouring in history.

It was like Shakespeare
knocking off Othello,

Macbeth and King Lear
over the summer hols.

And especially astonishing
because Van Gogh did it

with no hope of praise or reward.

- Thanks for bringing me.
- You're welcome.

You're being so nice to me.
Why are you being so nice to me?

- I'm always nice to you.
- Not like this.

These places you're taking me -

Arcadia, the Trojan Gardens, now this.
I think it's suspicious.

What? It's not! There's nothing
to be suspicious about.

OK, I was joking. Why aren't you?

Each of these pictures now
is worth tens of millions of pounds.

Yet in his lifetime,
he was a commercial disaster.

Sold only one painting,
and that to the sister of a friend.

We have here possibly
the greatest artist of all time,

but when he died, you could have sold
his entire body of work

and got about enough money
to buy a sofa.

And a couple of chairs.

If you follow me now...

- Who is it?
- It's the doctor!

He was the doctor who took care of
Van Gogh when he started to go mad.

- I knew that.
- Look!

There it is, the actual one.

Yes. You can almost feel his hand
painting it right in front of you.

Carving the colours into shapes...

- Wait a minute.
- What?

Well, just look at that.

- What?
- Something very not good indeed.

- What thing very not good?
- Look there, in the window of the church.

- Is it a face?
- Yes.

And not a nice face at all.

I know evil when I see it
and I see it in that window.

It has changed hands
for something in the region of 20...

Excuse me. If I can just interrupt
for one second. Sorry, everyone.

Routine inspection,
Ministry of Art and...

- Artiness. So, um...
- Dr Black.

Yes, that's right. Do you know when
that picture of the church was painted?

Ah, well, ah!
What an interesting question.

- Most people...
- I'm going to have to hurry you. When?

- Exactly?
- As exactly as you can.

Without a long speech, if poss.
I'm in a hurry.

Well, in that case,
probably somewhere between

- the 1 st and 3rd of June.
- What year?

1890. Less than a year before...

Before he killed himself.

Thank you, sir. Very helpful indeed.

Nice bow tie. Bow ties are cool.

- Yours is very...
- Oh, thank you.

Keep telling them stuff.
We need to go.

- What about the other pictures?
- Art can wait. This is life and death.

We need to talk to Vincent Van Gogh.

Right, so here's the plan.
We find Vincent,

and he leads us straight to the church
and our nasty friend.

- Easy-peasy.
- Well, no.

I suspect nothing
will be easy with Mr Van Gogh.

Now, he'll probably be
in the local café -

sort of orangey light,
chairs and tables outside.

- Like this?
- That's the one.

Or indeed like...that.

Yeah, exactly like that.

Good evening.

Does the name Vincent Van Gogh
ring a bell?

Don't mention that man to me.

Excuse me.

- Do you know Vincent Van Gogh?
- Unfortunately.

Unfortunately?

He's drunk, he's mad
and he never pays his bills.

Good painter, though, eh?

Come on! Come on!

One painting for one drink.

That's not a bad deal.

It wouldn't be a bad deal
if the painting were any good.

I can't hang that up on my walls.
It'd scare the customers half to death.

It's bad enough having you
in here in person,

let alone looming over the customers
day and night in a stupid hat.

You pay money or you get out.

- I'll pay if you like.
- What?

Well, if you like,
I'll pay for the drink.

Or I'll pay for the painting,

and you can use the money
to pay for the drink.

Exactly who are you?

Oh, I'm...new in town.

Well, in that case,
you don't know three things.

One, I pay for my own drinks,
thank you.

Two, no-one ever buys
any of my paintings

or they would
be laughed out of town,

so if you want to stay in town,
I suggest you keep your cash to yourself.

And three, your friend's cute,

but you should keep your big nose
out of other people's business.

Come on, just one more drink.

- I'll pay tomorrow.
- No.

Or, on the other hand,
slightly more compassionately, yes?

Or, on the other hand, to protect
my business from madmen, no.

Or...

Oh, look, just shut up,
the pair of you!

I would like a bottle of wine, please,

which I will then share
with whomever I choose.

That could be good.

- That's good by me.
- Good.

That accent of yours.
Are you from Holland, like me?

- Yes.
- No.

She means yes. So, start again.

- Hello, I'm the Doctor.
- I knew it!

Sorry?

My brother's always sending doctors,
but you won't be able to help.

No, not that kind of doctor.

Isn't that incredible,
don't you think, Amy?

- Absolutely. One of my favourites.
- One of my favourite whats?

- You've never seen my work before.
- Ah, yes.

One of my favourite paintings
that I've ever seen. Generally.

Then you can't have seen
many paintings, then.

I know it's terrible.

It's the best I could do.

Your hair is orange.

Yes. So's yours.

Yes.

It was more orange,
but now is, of course...less.

So, Vincent,
painted any churches recently?

Any churchy plans? Are churches,
chapels, religiousy stuff like that,

something you'd like to get into?
You know, fairly soon?

Well, there is one church I'm thinking
of painting when the weather is right.

That is very good news.

She's been murdered!

Help me!

That, on the other hand,
isn't quite such good news.

Come on, Amy, Vincent!

She's been ripped to shreds!

- Please, let me look. I'm a doctor.
- Who is it?

Oh, no, no, no.

Is she dead?

Away, all of you vultures!
This is my daughter. Giselle.

What monster could have done this?

- Get away from her!
- OK, OK.

Get that madman out of here!

You bring this on us. Your madness!
You!

He's to blame!

Are you all right?

Yes, I'm used to it.

Has anything like this murder
happened here before?

Only a week ago.
It's a terrible time.

As I thought, as I thought.
Come on, we'd better get you home.

- Where are you staying tonight?
- Oh, you're very kind.

- Dark night, very starry.
- It's not much.

I live on my own.

But you should be OK for one night.
One night.

- We're going to stay with him?
- Until he paints that church.

- Watch out. That one's wet.
- What?

Sorry about all the clutter.

Some clutter.

I've come to accept the only person
who's going to love my paintings is me.

Wow.

I mean, really. Wow.

Yeah, I know, it's a mess.
I'll have a proper clear-out.

I must, I really must.

Coffee, anyone?

Not for me, actually.

You know, you should be careful
with these. They're...precious.

Precious to me.
Not precious to anyone else.

They're precious to me!

Well, you're very kind.
And kindness is most welcome.

Right, so, this church, then.
Near here, is it?

What is it with you and the church?

Oh, just casually interested in it,
you know.

Far from casual. Seems to me
you never talk about anything else.

He's a strange one.

OK, let's talk about you.
What are you interested in?

Well, look around - art.

It seems to me there's so much more

to the world than the average eye
is allowed to see.

I believe, if you look hard,

there are more wonders in this universe

than you could ever have dreamed of.

You don't have to tell me.

It's colour. Colour that holds the key.

I can hear the colours.

Listen to them.

Every time I step outside,
I feel nature is shouting at me,

"Come on. Come and get me. Come on.

"Come on! Capture my mystery!"

Maybe you've had enough coffee now.

How about some nice calming tea?

Let's get you a cup of camomile
or something, shall we? Amy?

Where's Amy?

No, no. No!

Amy? Amy?

What happened?

I don't know, I didn't see it.

I was having a look at the paintings out
here when something hit me from behind.

It's OK.
He's gone now, and we're here.

No!

Take it easy. Take it easy!

What's happening? What's he doing?

I don't know!

Oh, dear.

Run. Run!

Yeah, yeah, yeah. That's not a bad idea.

Amy, get back.
He's having some kind of fit.

I'll try to calm him down.

Easy, Vincent, easy.

Look, look. It's me, it's me, it's me.
It's the Doctor, look.

No-one else is here. So, Vincent...

Look out!

I can't see anything. What is it?

That is a good question.

- Let me help you.
- You can see him too?

Yes...ish.

Well, no. Not really.

- You couldn't see him.
- No.

No. Oi!

He's gone.

Oh, right. Yes, of course.

Right.

So he's invisible? What did he look like?

I'll show you.

Oh, no, no, no!

- What?
- It's just... That was quite a good...

Oh, no.

On you go.

OK.

Right.
Amy, make Mr Van Gogh comfortable.

Don't let any invisible monsters
in through the front door.

But it could be outside! Waiting!

Don't worry, I'll risk it.
What's the worst that can happen?

You could get torn into pieces
by a monster you can't see.

Oh, right, yes. That.

Don't worry. I'll be back before
you can say, "Where's he got to now?"

Not that fast!

But pretty fast.

See you around.

Right. Are you in here somewhere?
I can't apologise enough.

I thought you were just a useless gadget.

I thought you were just
an embarrassing present

from a dull godmother
with two heads and bad breath. Twice.

How wrong can a man be?

Good.

OK, you're working.

Now, see what you make of this.

Who is that?

No, I know it's not that.
There are thousands of them,

you can see them plain as day.

No. Definitely not. This is the problem
with the Impressionists -

not accurate enough.

This would never happen
with Gainsborough

or one of those "proper" painters.

Sorry, Vincent.

You'll just have
to draw something better.

That's better, old girl.

Time delay, but you always
get it right in the end. Good.

Let's find out who this is, then.

Whoa, there you are, you poor thing.

You brutal, murderous...

abandoned thing.

I hope we meet again soon
so I can take you home.

Maybe not that soon.

Never do that! You scared
the living daylights out of me.

Sorry. I got bored.

As much as you admire
his command of colour and shape,

it is hard to get fond of
Vincent Van Gogh's snoring.

Wakey-wakey! Rise and shine!

Breakfast is served in the courtyard.

Whoa! What a morning.

Come on.

And Amy's got a little surprise for you.

I thought I'd brighten things up
to thank you for saving me last night.

Ah!

I thought you might like, you know,

possibly to perhaps paint them
or something? Might be a thought.

Yes.
Well, they're not my favourite flower.

- You don't like sunflowers?
- No, it's not that I don't like them.

I find them complex.

Always somewhere between
living and dying.

Half-human as they turn to the sun.
A little disgusting.

But, you know,

they are a challenge.

And one I'm pretty sure you'll rise to.

But, moving on,
there's something I need to show you.

That's him!

And the eyes.

Without mercy.

This is a creature called the Krafayis.

They travel in space,
they travel as a pack.

Scavenging across the universe.

Sometimes one of them gets left behind,

and because they are a brutal race,
the others never come back.

So, dotted all around the universe
are individual,

utterly merciless,
utterly abandoned Krafayis.

And what they do is...
Well, kill, until they're killed.

Which they usually aren't.
Because other creatures can't see them.

- But I can.
- Yes. And that's why

we are in a unique position today,
my friend, to end this reign of terror.

So, feeling like
painting the church today?

What about the monster?

Take my word for it.
If you paint it, he will come.

- OK. I'll get my things.
- In your own time.

I promise you, we'll be out
of your hair by this time tomorrow.

- This is risky.
- Riskier than normal?

Well, think about it.

This is the middle of Vincent Van Gogh's
greatest year of painting.

If we're not careful,
the net result of our pleasant little trip

will be the brutal murder
of the greatest artist who ever lived.

Half the pictures on the wall
of the Musée D'Orsay will disappear.

And it will be our fault.

Vincent?

Vincent!

Vincent, can I help?

It's so clear you cannot help.

And when you leave -
and everyone always leaves -

I will be left once more
with an empty heart and no hope.

My experience
is that there is, you know,

- surprisingly, always hope.
- Then your experience is incomplete.

I know how it will end.

And it will not end well.

Come on. Come out, let's go outside.

Out!

You get out!

What are you doing here?
What are you doing here?

Very well. I'll leave. I'll leave you.

What's happening?

We're leaving.

Everyone knows he's a delicate man.

Just months from now, he'll...
he'll take his own life.

Don't say that. Please.

Come on.
We have to do this on our own.

Go to the church at the right time
and hope the monster still turns up.

I'm ready. Let's go.

- I'm sorry you're so sad.
- But I'm not.

Sometimes these moods torture me
for weeks, for months.

But I'm good now.

If Amy Pond can soldier on,
then so can Vincent Van Gogh.

I'm not soldiering on. I'm fine.

Oh, Amy.

I hear the song of your sadness.

You've lost someone, I think.

I'm not sad.

They why are you crying?

It's all right. I understand.

I'm not sure I do.

OK. OK!

So, now, we must have a plan.
When the creature returns...

Then we shall fight him again.

Well, yes, tick.

But last night we were lucky.

Amy could have been killed.

So this time, for a start, we have
to make sure I can see him too.

And how are we meant to do that,
suddenly?

The answer's in this box. I had
an excellent, if smelly, godmother.

Oh, no.
It's that poor girl from the village.

You do have a plan...don't you?

No.

It's a thing - it's like a plan,
but with more greyness.

And you'll be sure to tell me
if you see any, you know, monsters.

Yes. While I may be mad,
I'm not stupid.

No, quite.

And, to be honest...

I'm not sure about mad either.

It seems to me
depression is a very complex...

Sssssh.

I'm working.

Well, yes.

Paint!

Do painting!

I remember watching Michelangelo
painting the Sistine Chapel.

Wow! What a whinger. I kept saying to him,

"Look, if you're scared of heights,
you shouldn't have taken the job."

Ssh!

And Picasso. What a ghastly old goat.

I kept telling him,
"Concentrate, Pablo, it's one eye,

"either side of the face."

Quiet.

Is this how time normally passes?

Really slowly.

In the right order.

If there's one thing I can't stand,
it's an unpunctual alien attack.

Are you OK? You seem a bit,

if I didn't know better, I'd say nervous.

There's something not right,
and I can't quite put my finger on it.

There! He's at the window.

- Where?
- There, on the right.

As I thought. Come on.

I'm going in.

- Well, I'm coming too.
- No!

You're Vincent Van Gogh.

No.

But you're not armed.

- I am.
- What with?

Overconfidence, this,
and a small screw driver. I'm sorted.

Just have to find the right
crosactic setting and stun him with it.

Sonic never fails.
Anyway, Amy, only one thought,

one simple instruction -
don't follow me under any circumstances.

I won't.

- Will you follow him?
- Of course!

I love you.

- Has he moved?
- No. Just shifted to the next window.

But wait!

He's turning now.

Damn. He's moved.

- Doctor!
- Amy!

- Doctor!
- Argh! I thought I told you...

Never mind. We'll talk about it later.
Quick. In here.

Absolutely quiet.

Can you breath a little quieter, please?

No!

- He's gone past.
- Ssh.

I think he heard us.

That is impressive hearing he's got.

What's less impressive
are our chances of survival.

Hey!
Are you looking for me, sonny?

Come on! Over here.

Because I'm right here waiting for you.

Come on. Quickly! Get behind me.

- Doing anything?
- Uh-uh.

Come on!

Where is he?

Where do you think he is,
you idiot? Use your head.

- Anything?
- Nothing.

In fact,
he seemed to rather enjoy it.

Ooh.

Duck! Left!

Right, sorry.

Agh!

Your right, my left.

This is no good at all.
Run like crazy and regroup.

Oh, come on, in here.

Right. OK.

- Here's the plan. Amy, Rory...
- Who?

Sorry, um, Vincent.

- What is the plan?
- I don't know, actually.

My only definite plan is that in future,

I'm just using this screwdriver
for screwing in screws.

Give me a second. I'll be back.

- I suppose we could try talking to him.
- Talking to him?!

Well, yes. Might be interesting
to know his side of the story.

Yes, though maybe he's not really
in the mood for conversation

right at this precise moment.

Well, no harm trying. Listen.
Listen!

I know you can understand me.

Even though I know you won't
understand why you can understand me.

I also know that no-one's talked to you
for a pretty long stretch,

but please...listen.

I also don't belong on this planet.

I also am...alone.

If you trust me, I'm sure
we can come to some kind of, you know,

understanding.

And then... And then, who knows?

Over here, mate!

What's it up to now?

It's moving round the room.
Feeling its way around.

- What?
- It's like it's trapped.

It's moving round
the edges of the room.

I can't see a thing.

I am really stupid.

Oh, get a grip! This is not a moment
to re-evaluate your self-esteem.

No, I am really stupid
and I'm growing old.

Why does it attack,
but never eat its victims?

And why was it abandoned by its pack
and left here to die?

And why is it feeling its way helplessly
around the walls of the room?

It can't see, it's blind.

And that, of course, explains
why it has such perfect hearing!

Which unfortunately also
explains why it is now

turning around
and heading straight for us.

Vincent. Vincent, what's happening?

It's charging now.
Get back. Get back!

Wah!

Argh!

He wasn't without mercy at all.

He was without sight.

I didn't mean that to happen.

I only meant to wound it,
I never meant to...

He's trying to say something.

What is it?

I'm having trouble making it out,
but I think he's saying,

"I'm afraid. I'm afraid."

There, there.

Ssh! Ssh!

It's OK. It's OK. You'll be fine. Ssh!

He was frightened.

And he lashed out

like humans, who lash out
when they're frightened.

Like the villagers who scream at me.

Like the children
who throw stones at me.

You know, sometimes winning -
winning is no fun at all.

Hold my hand, Doctor.

Try to see what I see.

We are so lucky we are still alive
to see this beautiful world.

Look at the sky.

It's not dark and black
and without character.

The black is in fact deep blue.

And over there, lighter blue.

And blowing through
the blueness and the blackness,

the wind swirling through the air

and then shining, burning,
bursting through - the stars!

Can you see
how they roar their light?

Everywhere we look,

the complex magic of nature
blazes before our eyes.

I've seen many things, my friend.

But you're right.

Nothing quite as wonderful
as the things you see.

I will miss you terribly.

I only wish I had something
of real value to give you.

Oh, no, no. I could never accept
such an extraordinary gift.

Very well.

You are not the first
to decline the offer.

Amy, the blessed, the wonderful.

Be good to yourself
and be kind to yourself.

I'll try my best.

And maybe give the beard a little trim
before you next kiss someone.

I will. I will.

And if you tire
of this Doctor of yours, return.

- And we will have children by the dozen.
- Eek!

Doctor, my friend...

we have fought monsters together
and we have won.

On my own,
I fear I may not do as well.

Are you thinking what I'm thinking?

I was thinking I may need some food
or something before we leave.

Well, no, you're not thinking
exactly what I'm thinking.

Vincent!

Got something I'd like to show you.

Maybe just tidy yourself up
a bit first.

Now, you know we've had quite
a few chats about the possibility

there might be more to life
than normal people imagine?

Yes.

Well, brace yourself, Vinny.

How come I'm the crazy one...

and you two have stayed sane?

- What do these things all do?
- Oh, a huge variety of things.

This one here, for instance,
plays soothing music.

While this one makes
a huge amount of noise.

And this one makes
everything go absolutely tonto.

And this one?

- That's a friction contrafibulator!
- And this?

That's ketchup,
and that one's mustard.

Mmm. Nice!

Come on. Back to the café
and you can tell me

about all the wonders
of the universe.

Good idea.
Although, actually,

there's a little something
I'd like to show you first.

Where are we?

Paris. 2010 AD.

And this is the mighty
Musée d'Orsay.

Home to many of the greatest
paintings in history.

Oh, that's wonderful.

Ignore that. I've got something
more important to show you.

# Take all your chances while you can

# You never know
when they'll pass you by

# Like a sum
the mathematician cannot solve

# Like me trying my hardest to explain

# It's all about your

# Cries and kisses

# Those first steps that

# I can't calculate... #

- Dr Black...?
- Yes.

We met a few days ago.

I asked you about
the Church At Auvers.

- Oh, yes. Glad to be of help.
- You were nice about my tie.

Yes. And today is another cracker,
if I may say so.

But I just wondered,
between you and me, in 100 words,

where do you think Van Gogh rates
in the history of art?

Well, um...big question.

But, to me, Van Gogh
is the finest painter of them all.

Certainly, the most popular
great painter of all time,

the most beloved.

His command of colour,
the most magnificent.

He transformed the pain of
his tormented life into ecstatic beauty.

Pain is easy to portray,
but to use your passion and pain

to portray the ecstasy and joy
and magnificence of our world -

no-one had ever done it before.

Perhaps no-one ever will again.

To my mind, that strange, wild man
who roamed the fields of Provence

was not only the world's
greatest artist,

but also one of the greatest men
who ever lived.

Vincent. I'm sorry.
I'm sorry. Is it too much?

No. They are tears of joy.

Thank you, sir.

- Thank you.
- You're welcome. You're welcome.

Sorry about the beard.

# ...It's all about your

# Cries and kisses

# It's all about you. #

This changes everything.

I'll step out tomorrow with my easel
on my back a different man.

Though I still can't believe
one of the Haystacks

was in the museum.
How embarrassing.

It's been a great adventure
and a great honour.

You've turned out to be
the first doctor

ever actually to make
a difference to my life.

I'm delighted.
I won't ever forget you.

And you are sure
marriage is out of the question?

This time.

I'm not really the marrying kind.

Come on. Let's go back
to the gallery right now.

Time can be rewritten.
I know it can. Come on!

Oh, the long life
of Vincent Van Gogh.

- There'll be hundreds of new paintings.
- I'm not sure there will.

Come on!

We have here the last work
of Vincent Van Gogh,

who committed suicide at only 37.

He is now acknowledged to be
one of the foremost artists of all time.

If you follow me now...

So you were right.
No new paintings.

We didn't make a difference at all.

I wouldn't say that.

The way I see it, every life is
a pile of good things and bad things.

Hey.

The good things don't always...
soften the bad things.

But vice versa - the bad things
don't necessarily spoil the good things

or make them unimportant.

And we definitely added
to his pile of good things.

And if you look carefully...

maybe we did indeed make
a couple of little changes.

- No Krafayis.
- No Krafayis.

If we had got married, our kids
would have had very, very red hair.

The ultimate ginger.

The ultimate ginge.

Brighter than sunflowers.