All language subtitles for The.Hands.Of.Orlac.1960.1080p.WEBRip.x264.AAC-[YTS.BZ]

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(dramatic orchestral music)

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(music continues)

(light piano music)

(music continues)

(music continues)

(music intensifies)

(audience applauding)

- [Audience Member] Bravo!

Bravo!
- Wonderful.

- [Audience Member] Encore!

Encore!

(audience member yells indistinctly)

(applause continues)

- Magnificent!
- Thank you, Maurice.

- They're still applauding.
One more call, huh?

Oh, let me out this time, all right?

- Oh.
- Mr. Orlac,

the press are waiting.

- Bye.
- Bye-bye.

- A few words, Monsieur.
- How do you like--

- I'm sorry, I have to be in Paris

in exactly two hours from now.

There's a plane waiting
for me at the airport.

- [Reporter] A professional
engagement, Mr. Orlac?

- No, this time it's a private one.

If you don't mind. Excuse me.
- Thank you.

- He'll be over France by now.

Quick, Emilie!
- We have plenty of time.

Mademoiselle must look her best tonight.

- Emilie, I'm scared.

- Scared?

- I can't live up to him.

All those females around him.

- Nonsense.

Mademoiselle must look at Mademoiselle.

So beautiful.

Tonight, Monsieur Orlac
will ask Mademoiselle

to become Madame.

I feel it.

- (chuckles) Bless you, Emilie.

(airplane engine whirring)

- Sorry, sir, we're out of luck.

- What do you mean?

- We're running slap into it.

The board has said it's coming
in over the whole Paris area.

We'll have to push on to Lyon.

- That's impossible.

I must land at Le Bourget.

- It's too dicey, sir.

By the time we get there,

visibility will be down to zero.

- Look, I'm paying for this.

It's absolutely vital I
reach Le Bourget by midnight.

(airplane engine whirring)

(explosion booming)

(alarms ringing)

(siren wailing)

- His hands!

His poor hands!
(sobs)

(siren wailing continues)
(horn honking)

Why are we stopped?
- No through-road.

You must go around.

- But I tell you we must get through.

It's urgent.

- Sorry, Madame, it is forbidden.

The Boulevard Argot is,
for the present, closed.

- But why?

- [Officer] An execution
at the Sante Prison.

Vasseur, the Strangler.

- [Louise] But it's Stephen Orlac.

His hands are burned to the bone.

Unless they're operated on at once,

he may never play again.

You must let us through.

That monster, Vasseur, is going to die.

His hands will never strangle again,

but the hands of Orlac can still be saved.

- You are right, Madame.

Drive on.

(engine rumbling)

(siren wailing)

- [Louise] His hands
are burned to the bone.

Unless they're operated on at once,

he may never play again.

That monster, Vasseur, is going to die.

His hands will never strangle again,

but the hands of Orlac can still be saved.

(ambulance door slams)

- Professor Volcheff?

- Yes, yes, I know.

They telephoned me from Le Bourget.

The patient, Stephen Orlac, pianist.

- Yes, the pianist.

They wanted to take him to the hospital,

but I insisted that he be brought here.

- Yes, yes, I know who he is.

Who are you, his wife?

- No, not yet.

But--

- Sit down if you want to.

Do you mind if I have some coffee?

I can't work on an empty stomach.

What's your name?

- Louise Cochrane.

- Louise...

You're the niece of Dr. Cochrane?

- Yes. You know him?

- (chuckles) Know him? Yes.

He's a good man, good psychiatrist.

Still practicing in London?

- He says you're the greatest
surgeon in the world.

That's why I've brought Stephen to you.

- Well, I'll do what I can.

- The patient is ready, professor.

- [Professor Volcheff]
Is the other one ready?

- [Assistant] Yes, professor.

In the sterilizing room.

(Stephen groans)

(pensive music)

(dramatic music)

(Stephen screams)

(dramatic piano music)

(music continues)

(unsettling music)

- Sorry to be late, darling.

Have you been practicing?

- [Stephen] No.

- Oh?

I thought...

- I was going to, but somehow I couldn't.

These hands don't feel
as if they belong to me.

- It's only six months, you know.

Professor Volcheff said
it would take time.

- Yes, I know.

- Darling, what's the matter?

- Nothing.

- Can't I help?

- It's nothing, I tell you, nothing.

- Stephen...

Six months ago we were
going to be married.

Then this awful thing happened.

Perhaps it has changed you.

- You think so?

- I don't know.

I haven't changed.

But if you have, you've
only got to say so.

You're free as the wind.

- One thing hasn't
changed, my love for you.

It never will.

We'll be married soon.

Very soon.

- Oh!

I'm going to be blue for a month.

(dramatic music)

- Did I hurt you?

- Darling, what is it?

Stephen!

- I seem to have a headache.

I think I'll go home, if you don't mind.

- Yes, of course, if you want to.

The car's outside.

I'll run you back, shall I?

- No thanks.

I'd rather walk.

- All right, then.

(soft jazzy music)

Goodbye, darling.

- Gentlemen, try your
hand on this machine.

Everything above 15, a prize.

Come along, gentlemen, try your hand.

Now, what about you, sir?

Now, don't be shy there, sir.

Try your hands on this machine here.

Come, sir, show your
girlfriend what you're made of.

Now, try this machine here.

(light music)

Steady, Monsieur, steady.

You'll break my machine.

- Go on, give him his prize.

- Here you are, Monsieur.

A lovely doll to take back
to your girlfriend. (laughs)

(dramatic piano music)

(dramatic piano music playing)

(music continues)

(music continues)

(dial spinning)

(line trilling)

- [Assistant] Hello?

- Hello, is that Professor
Volcheff's clinic?

Could I speak with the professor, please?

- The professor is not here.

He is at a medical conference in Moscow.

- When will he be back?

- Not for several weeks.

Who is speaking?

- This is Stephen Orlac.

- [Assistant] Oh, but of
course, Monsieur Orlac.

I am so sorry he is not here

but he's so much in demand, you know.

And you, are you pleased
with your new hands?

You ought to be.

The professor is a real magician,

and your case is one of
his greatest triumphs.

(receiver dings)

(dramatic piano music)

(hand slams)

(music intensifies)

(doorbell ringing)

(music stops)

- Stephen.

- Louise.

(door closes)

Help me.
(hands slamming)

- Yes, yes, my darling,
that's what I'm here for.

- Help me, help me.

- I'm going to take you away.

Uncle Francis, my guardian,
he says we can have

his villa for just as long as we want it.

You'll come, won't you?

- Yes, I'll come.

- Lots of sun, plenty
to eat, nothing to do.

That's what you need.

And me, of course.

- Especially you.

(light music)
(engine rumbling)

(music continues)

(wagon wheels creaking)

(music continues)

- It's like being on a cloud

where nothing can touch you.

Thank you for bringing me here.

- Here's someone come to pay
his respects, Mademoiselle.

- Michou! Darling Michou,
have you missed me?

Isn't he beautiful?

- He certainly is.

Michou?

Michou?

(Michou meows)

- Michou! Michou, don't be so rude.

Come back at once.

I'm sorry, darling.

- He doesn't seem to like me.

- Funny.

He's friendly enough
with strangers as a rule.

Oh, well.

Dinner will be ready in half an hour.

(wind howling)

(door clicks)

(pensive music)

- Michou!

Michou!

Oh no, poor little Michou.

He's dead.

- He did not come this
morning when I called

so I went to look for him.

He was already cold when
Ange found him there

on Monsieur Orlac's window.

- It must've happened in the night.

- But what could've done it?

Do you think it was a dog?

- No, Mademoiselle.

A dog has no hands.

He cannot strangle.

- But who did it, Ange?

Who?

- [Ange] I cannot say, Mademoiselle.

- There was some gypsies
hanging around last night,

trying to steal things.

Perhaps it was one of them.

- Yes, of course.

Must've been.

I'll go and ring the police.

- No, Mademoiselle. Do
not call the police.

Perhaps it was not the gypsies.

No.

(wind howling)
(soft music)

(dirt clattering)

- Hard work, eh?

- Yes, Monsieur.

- Hasn't rained for a
long time, I suppose.

Here, let me give you a hand.

- No, Monsieur.

- Why?

- Monsieur, he should take care.

The sun is like the mistral,
it can be dangerous.

- What are you getting at?

- [Ange] I, Monsieur?

- Yes, you, Monsieur.

What are you hinting at?

You think I killed that cat, don't you?

I've seen the way you looked at me,

with your sly, insinuating little remarks.

Well, if that's what you
think, why don't you say so?

Why don't you say it?

Go on, say it!

- Monsieur, please!

- What are you afraid of?

You think I'm gonna kill you too?

Huh?

- [Louise] Stephen!

Stephen, are you out of your mind?

What are you doing?

- I'm sorry.

(wind howling)

I ran away.

How is he? Did I hurt him?

- No.

He was a little shaken, that's all.

He'll soon get over it.

- I don't know what came over me.

You know, if you hadn't
come along when you did,

I think I might've killed him.

- No, you wouldn't, darling.

Probably this wretched mistral.

It's true, you know.

It does get on one's nerves sometimes.

- Even so.

- Oh, Stephen, please.

It's over.

Let's forget it ever happened.

(light piano music playing)

- (sighs) Oh, it's no use.

- No, don't stop.

Go on.

Please, begin again.

- All right.

Come and stand over here...

Where I can see you.

(light piano music playing)

- You see, Stephen?

- With you, so many things are possible.

(piano key chimes)

(light jazzy music)

(music continues)

(music intensifies)

(music continues)

(wind howling)

- Stephen!
(gasps)

- Forgive me, Louise.

Forgive me, but I mustn't stay here.

Not another moment.

You're not safe with me.

No, please let me go.

Please, let me go!

- [Louise] Stephen!

Stephen!

(birds chirping)

(engine rumbling)

Stephen!

(tires skidding)

Stephen!

Stephen!

(tires skidding)

(Louise sobbing)

(gravel crunching)

(horns honking)

(parking brake cranks)

(car door slams)

(mellow music)

(music continues)

- Madame?

Madame Aliberti?

- [Stephen] Thank you.

- Monsieur?

- I'd like a room, please.

- You are alone?
- Yes.

- [Madame Aliberti] For how long?

- [Stephen] I don't know.

- Well, I am going to
give you number three

on the first floor.

It's a very nice little
room with a balcony.

Would you like to see it?

- I'll take it.

- Mm-hm.

Would you mind filling in your form?

- Thank you.

- And what about your luggage?

- I haven't any.

- Well, in that case, I
must ask you for money.

Thank you.

This way, please.

(horns honking)
(engines rumbling)

Don't worry, Monsieur Stephen.

I am going to get him myself.

- Oh, good afternoon, Madame.

- Good afternoon, Monsieur Nero.

- Li-Lang, my dear, we
have a new neighbor.

Number three.

- So what?

- A very interesting neighbor,
at least he interests me.

I am hoping to persuade you
to take an interest in him.

- What? Again?

- Yes, my dear. Again.

- Who is he?

- I don't know.

He calls himself Monsieur
Stephen, but it's not his name.

I've seen him somewhere before.

- Maybe in jail?

- I don't think so.

- What's he look like?

- Handsome, distinguished,
man of the world.

Plenty of money.

Just your type.

- Very funny.

If he's all that, what's he
doing in a dump like this?

- Ah, how very perceptive
you are, my dear.

That's the whole point.

What is he doing here?

If a man like that isn't
at the Grand Hotel,

it's because he's got something to hide.

And if he's got something to hide,

he'll pay through the nose
'til his eyes drop out.

- You're a vicious brute, Nero.

You hate people.

- Me, hate?

My dear, I couldn't stop you.

You were born a slut and
you'll always be one.

It is I who have lowered myself.

- Swine.

- Now, may I continue?

- What do you want me to do?

- You're supposed to
be an artist, my dear.

But tonight you will pay
a little company for him.

- Suppose I say I won't.

- Oh, then I shall have to
be a little more persuasive.

(horn honking)

(Stephen sighs)

(Li-Lang gasps)

- Please, I thought this room was empty.

- It was.

- I woke you up, didn't I?

- Oh, it doesn't matter.

- Well, I'd better be going.

(gasps) Just look at me!

Oh, will you fix it for me, please?

That swine Nero nearly busted my arm.

- How? What happened?

Who's Nero?

- Great Nero, king of magic,

and his partner, Li-Lang, queen of dance.

I don't suppose you have heard of us?

- I'm afraid not.

- Here, use this.

- Thank you.

- He's a devil, that Nero.

He ought to be behind bars if you ask me.

- Why don't you leave him?

- (chuckles) You don't know what it's like

to be afraid of someone.

- Yes, I think I do.

- You?

Who have you got to be frightened of?

- Do you need money?

- Oh no, thanks.

You can give me a drink, if you like.

- Help yourself.

- Do you sing (indistinct)?

You're nice looking, too.
And kind and generous,

wanting to give me that money.

- Why didn't you take it?

- Well, I don't know you very well, do I?

I'd like to.

I'd like to know you a whole lot better.

Tell me something.

- [Stephen] Yes?

- What is it you're afraid of?

Oh, all right.

Don't tell me if you don't want to.

I was only trying to be friendly.

We are going to be friends, aren't we?

- Yes, why not?

- (chuckles) That's better.

I must go.

Will you come and see me dance?

We are at The Blue Monkey.

- Maybe.

- When?

- I don't know, sometime.

- I shall be looking out for you.

Farewell. On with the show.

(music continues)

(door closes)

(horn honking)

- Well?

- [Li-Lang] Well, what?

- How did it go, your
meeting with Mr. Stephen?

- All right.

- You're not very communicative, my dear.

Talk.

- I did like you told me.

- And?
- He fell for it.

- And you?

- [Li-Lang] He'll be around, all right.

He did not say when but he will come.

- My clever little Li-Lang.

What did you find out?

- He's scared about something.

He would not say what, though.

And you were right about another thing.

He's loaded.

You should have seen his wallet.

- I shall, my dear.

I shall.

Nero, you're not going
to hurt him, are you?

- That would depend on him, my dear.

Why do you ask?

- I don't know.

He's not such a bad chap.

He wanted to give me some money.

- How touching.

To services rendered, no doubt.

- No, to help me get away from you.

(Nero snickers)

Oh, you can laugh.

I was a fool not to take it.

Maybe next time I will.

- Oh no, my dear.

No, you won't.

She'll never get away
from us, will she, Pluto?

(Nero laughs)

(pensive music)
(bystanders chattering)

(bystander laughs)

(music continues)

(soft, romantic music)

(dramatic music)

(bystander laughs)

(crowd screaming)
(officers clamoring)

(bright music)
(patrons laughing)

(patrons chattering)

(music continues)

(whip snaps)

(patrons laughing)

(patrons clapping)

(whip clatters)

(light music)

(gong clangs)

(crowd clapping)
(gong clangs)

(Li-Lang singing in French)

(singing continues)

(patrons laughing)

(patrons whooping)

(music continues)

(patrons whooping)

(music continues)

(hands tapping)

(Li-Lang singing in French)

(singing continues)

(patrons clapping)

(patrons cheering)
(patrons clapping)

- He's there.

He was out in front.

- Stephen?

- I told you he'd come, didn't I?

- So, he's hooked.

- He's hooked, all right.

Could not keep his eyes off me.

You'd better get out quick.

He'll be around any minute.

- There's plenty of time,
my dear, plenty of time.

(fist knocking)

Come in.

- [Messenger] A message for Li-Lang.

- Well?

- With Monsieur's Stephen's compliments,

will Mademoiselle Li-Lang
do him the honor

of joining him at his table?

- You tell Mr. Stephen
that Mademoiselle Li-Lang

would be simply delighted.

We men of the world, my dear,

we do these things differently.

Here, make yourself beautiful
for your Prince Charming.

- He looks more like a tramp tonight.

You could strike a match on his chin.

- Well, perhaps his
conscience is bothering him.

I sincerely hope so, anyway.

It'll make things much easier for me

and much more profitable.

While you are entertaining our friend,

I should go back to the hotel.

You will leave here at midnight,

and at half past 12 exactly,

I shall burst in in the
nick of time to save

you from a fate worse than death.

Or perhaps you would rather I
gave you another 10 minutes?

(jar clattering)

(boat horn blaring)

- No, Madame, we have no Mr. Orlac here.

- Thank you.

I'm sorry to have troubled you.

- Well, maybe you could try

the hotel on the other side of the street.

Hotel (speaking in French),
he may be there, you know?

- Pardon me, Madame.

Are you looking for Monsieur Orlac?

- [Louise] Yes.

- Monsieur Stephen Orlac, the pianist?

- [Louise] Yes, do you know him?

- I recognized him the moment I saw him.

I too in my humble way am an artist.

He's staying here in this
hotel, room number three.

- You don't know what
you are talking about.

In number three it is not Monsieur Orlac,

it is Monsieur Stephen.

- Monsieur Stephen Orlac, Madame.

We artists, we have our
caprices, you understand.

Sometimes we prefer to remain incognito.

- Well, he's not here anyway.

- No doubt he'll be back soon.

In the meantime, if you would
care to wait in his room.

I happen to live on the same floor

and I would be delighted to escort you.

(light music)
(patrons chattering)

(music continues)

- Nice of you to come.

Did you like the show?

- Very much, what I saw of it.

- From this close, you
must have seen plenty.

- I liked what I saw very much indeed.

- I must say, you don't look

as if you have been enjoying yourself.

- Couldn't we go somewhere else?

- I'd like to, of course.

- Good, I'll get the bill.

- But I can't go yet.

Not before 12.

I've got to stay and
entertain the customers.

It's in my contract.

- Well, perhaps if I spoke to the manager.

- Oh no, don't do that.

Why, if Nero got to hear of it,

he would skin me alive.

(lock clicking)

(boat horn blaring)

Why don't you go on back to the hotel?

Soon as I get away, I
shall slip in for awhile

and have a little drink with you.

How would that be?

- Fine.

Don't be too long.

(light jazzy music)

(door opens)

- Stephen!

Stephen, I've been so worried.

- How did you find me?

- It was your car.

The police found it.

- The police?

- I asked them to make inquiries.

I thought something
might've happened to you.

- Well, as you see, I'm
in the best of health.

I wasn't running from you.

I was running from myself.

Hasn't seemed to have done much good.

(horn honking)
(boat horn blaring)

- You're still brooding
about that terrible accident.

- What about the accident?

What happened afterwards?

- Afterwards?

- Only a few hours later, at
dawn, a man went to the guillotine.

- [Louise] Yes, I know, Louis Vasseur.

- Louise, why did you take me to Volcheff?

Why?!

- He seemed the obvious man to go to.

I mean, his reputation.

He's a genius.

Everybody says so.

He's done the most amazing things.

Grafting tissue, bones, even limbs.

- [Stephen] And hands?

- No... No, you don't think that.

It's not possible.

It's just your imagination.

Darling, it's an obsession.

- Just look at these hands.

They're not mine, they
belong to someone else.

They have their own
thoughts, their own will.

I can't control them.

You'd better go, Louise.

- No, Stephen, no.

Darling, I'm not frightened of you.

- Go, I tell you! Go!

- Very well, then. I'll
go if you want me to.

Perhaps it's better for
you to be alone for awhile,

to work this out of your mind.

But when you need me,
and you will need me,

you'll know where to find me.

(door creaking)

(boat horn blaring)

(door creaking)

(horns honking)

- [Ange] You couldn't
find him, Mademoiselle?

- Yes, I found him.

- [Ange] And where was he?

- In hell, Ange.

In hell.

(soft music)
(Stephen sighs)

- No.

(knocking at door)

Louise?

- Here I am.

Had you given me up?

- I'd completely forgotten about you.

- What's happened to you?

You've changed.

- Have I?

For the better, I hope.

I'm just leaving, Li-Lang.

- I thought you liked me.

- I do.

- Oh, stay with me.

(door opens)

- Good evening.

Or should I say good morning?

I trust I'm not premature?

- It's Nero.

He'll kill me.

He'll kill us both.

- Now, calm yourself, my dear,

calm yourself.

Monsieur and I have one
or two little things

to discuss together, so off you go.

- [Li-Lang] Oh!

- [Nero] Now, Monsieur Orlac...

- So, you know my name.

- Oh, yes, I know everything about you.

Tragic accident.

How I wept when it was rumored

that you might never play again.

- Thank you, but why don't
you come to the point?

- Fortunately, you were in very good hands.

Professor Volcheff, remarkable surgeon.

I had a friend once who
was also a patient of his.

Poor Louis.

Poor Vasseur.

- Vasseur?

- Monsieur Orlac, would you
do me a very great favor?

- What?

- In memory of my poor
friend Louis Vasseur,

would you permit me to shake his hand?

(Nero laughs)

(soft piano music playing)

(playing continues)

(playing stops)

(soft piano music)

(audience chattering)

- Excuse me, Monsieur Orlac,

this has just been delivered
by special messenger.

I thought it might be important.

- I shouldn't think so.

Just put it down, will you, John?

- Yes, sir.

- Will you be requiring
me any further now, sir?

- No, thank you.

(paper rustling)

(unsettling music)

(knocking at door)

- Standing room is sold out.

So, you ready?

- Just give me a moment,
will you, Maurice?

- Good heavens, man,
you're as white as a sheet.

I'll bet you haven't had a
thing to eat since breakfast.

- No, as a matter of fact, I haven't.

- (sighs) I thought so.

Great mistake.

Food's a great help at a time like this.

"The condemned man ate a
hearty breakfast and walked

with a firm tread to the scaffold."

How 'bout a tot of brandy?

Also very appropriate on these occasions.

- No, thank you.

- Are you sure?

Well, shall we go?

(audience chattering)

(audience applauding)

(soft piano music playing)

(playing continues)

(playing continues)

(playing continues)

(playing stops)

(audience chattering)

(playing continues)

(playing stops)

(audience chattering)

(piano keys chiming)

- Stephen, you're ill!

Let me get a doctor.

Go.

(audience clamoring)

(engine rumbling)

(horn honking)

(unsettling music)

- Where can he be all this time?

- Now, let's give him time to get here.

- I can't understand it.

He seemed fine when I left him.

A little nervous perhaps,
but no more than usual.

- He's highly strung.

- Yes, I suppose so.

Most artists are.

- Not all.

Have you ever seen him
in this condition before?

- Uncle Francis, please.

I'd prefer not to talk about it.

- What don't you want to talk about?

My little exhibition tonight?

I can't say I blame you.

- Stephen, we've been so worried.

- Oh, there's no need.

I'm quite all right.

That was just a display
of artistic temperament,

if you can call my performance artistic.

- It was certainly unorthodox.

- Darling, what happened?

It wasn't like you.

- Stephen, I'm no musician,

but I should say that your
performance this evening

was that of a man undergoing
severe nervous strain.

Why don't you let me
get one of my colleagues

to give you a check-over?

- Yes, why don't you?

- Thank you, but I can
prescribe for myself.

What about you, doctor?

One for the road?

(liquid splashing)

- Thank you, no.

I think I'll have an early night.

And I'd advise you both to do the same.

Goodnight, Stephen.

- Goodnight.

- Poor Uncle Francis.

You weren't very nice to him.

- I wasn't very nice to you.

- It doesn't matter about me.

I'm your wife.

I love you.

(phone ringing)

- Yes?

- [Nero] May I speak to
Monsieur Louis Vasseur, please?

- Who?

- [Nero] Vasseur.

(unsettling music)

(receiver dings)

- Well, who was it?

What was it? A wrong number?

- Yes.

Wrong number.

Go back to sleep.

(light music)
(Nero whistling)

- [Li-Lang] Well?

I hope you know what you're doing.

- My dear, I always know what I'm doing.

That's the reason why we came to London.

Oh, but you must be patient, my dear.

Just a little more patient.

Before I'm through with
him he'll be on his knees,

begging to give us every centime he's got.

- Unless he kills himself first.

- Yes, it might be a
little difficult if he died

before I could get my hands on his money.

Isn't it, Mephisto?

- Think what you like,

but I've done too much already.

If you go on, you go alone, without me.

My dear little Li-Lang,

I picked you out of the gutter.

You want me to throw you back?

- I don't need you.

I could earn a living all right.

- Oh yes, yes, of course you could...

With a scar on your face, hm?

Sweetheart?

- [Felix] Felix here.

Nero and Li-Lang on stage for rehearsal.

- Coming, Monsieur Felix.

(swords clattering)
(Dixieland music continues)

(door opens)

(door closes)

(phone ringing)

- Yes?

- This is Monsieur Orlac's apartment?

- I'm afraid he's out at the moment.

Can I give him a message?

- You are Madame Orlac?

- Yes.

- I must speak with you, please.

It is very important.

- Very well, come in, please.

Sit down, please.

- Thank you, Madame, thank you.

As you see, Madame, I am a widow.

My poor husband died in the
most tragic circumstances.

- [Louise] I am sorry.

Can I get you something?

- Perhaps a glass of water.

- [Louise] Yes, of course.

(paper ripping)

- Thank you, Madame.

I have come to bring you a message

from the other world.

- A message?

- Madame, my husband cannot rest.

He told me, "Find Monsieur Stephen Orlac.

Implore him to give back
that which belongs to me."

- My husband's got something
which belongs to him?

Have you any idea what it can be?

- Oh, I don't know, Madame.

You will ask Monsieur Orlac?

- I'll ask him, but--

- Oh, thank you, Madame.

- [Louise] Just a moment.

You haven't told me your name.

- It is an unhappy one, Madame.

But perhaps it will be familiar to you.

My husband was Louis Vasseur.

Good day.

- I don't believe in it.

- Hello, Maurice.

- Oh, hello, Graham.

- Am I interrupting you?
Don't be angry.

I want to meet your guest.

It is Mr. Orlac, isn't it?

- Don't you two know each other?

Stephen Orlac, Graham Coates, sculptor.

- How do you do, Mr. Coates?

- How do you do, Mr. Orlac?

I was sorry to miss
your recital last night.

Have I said the wrong thing?

- What?

Oh no, no, my dear chap.

Not at all.

- I've been in Brussels.

Flew back this morning.

- Then you're fortunate.

You've missed a fiasco.

- I can hardly believe that.

I'm going to ask you a
big favor, Mr. Orlac.

I want you to let me use your hands.

- My hands?

- I'm not asking you to sit for me.

I know you've been much too busy for that,

but if you could spare
me a couple of hours,

I'd like to photograph them
and take some wax impressions.

- I'm sorry--

- Now, don't say no until
you've heard me out.

This is a major work.

It's the most ambitious
thing I've ever tackled.

It's going to stand in
(indistinct) Cathedral.

The raising of Lazarus from the dead,

above the high altar.

Now, this is how I see it.

On the left, Jesus, his arm outstretched.

"Lazarus, come forth."

Behind him, Thomas,
doubting Thomas, Martha,

Mary, the Disciples,

over to the right the two of 'em,

a gaping void, the stone rolled away.

All we see of Lazarus is his hands.

His hands.

Your hands, Orlac,
projecting from the tomb,

the moldering grave clothes
trailing behind them.

What do you think of that?

- No!

No!

No!

(door slams)

- I don't know what to believe.

(cup clinks)

A woman called today.

I'm frightened to tell
Stephen what she said.

She said she was Madame Vasseur.

- Madame Vasseur?

- Oh, Uncle, it couldn't be true.

Stephen couldn't have
the hands of Vasseur.

- I should say that at the present time

it would be utterly impossible.

But surgeons have done
some remarkable things.

- Uncle Francis, if
Professor Volcheff told you

that he had grafted the
hands of Louis Vasseur

onto Stephen's wrists,
would you believe him?

- I suppose I should have to.

- I have to be sure.

- Hello, Stephen.

- [Stephen] Hello.

- Forgive my intrusion.

- Hello.

Where's Louise?

- She left a message for
you. That's why I'm here.

Cigarette?

- No, thank you.

- How do you like the case?

Gift from a grateful patient.

Rather a touching inscription.

- Very nice.

Now, what's this about Louise?

- Oh, nothing much.

A wee green, a little
out of sorts, that's all.

However, purely as a
precautionary measure,

I've sent her into the Maryburn Clinic

for a complete checkup.

- You're keeping something from me.

- My dear Stephen, it's a
simple routine procedure.

There's absolutely nothing
to be alarmed about.

- You're sure?

- She may be back tomorrow
with a clean bill of health.

- Thank God for that.

- Go a little gently with her, that's all.

- What makes you think I
don't go gently with her?

- Nothing, nothing at all.

You know, a lot of Americans

have a checkup every six months.

You know, if you ever thought of it,

I could always arrange
for you to have one.

- Why me?

- Why not?

- I thought British
doctors weren't allowed

to drum up trade?

- That's rather an
offensive remark, Stephen.

- It was an offensive suggestion.

- Well, then perhaps I'd better be going.

- [Stephen] As you wish.

- Fool that I am,

I've left my cigarette case on that table.

(case clicks)

- [Stephen] Here you are.

- Thank you.

Goodbye.

- Goodbye.

(dial spinning)

Hello, the Maryburn Clinic?

Could I leave a message
for Mrs. Orlac, please?

Orlac.

O-R-L-A-C.

She's not there?

Are you quite sure?

Thank you.

(phone dings)

(Stephen groaning)

- [Nero] I am Vasseur.

Give me back my hands.

Volcheff gave you my hands,

but he also gave me back my head. (laughs)

(mask clinks)

- Nero.

- I fooled you that time,
didn't I, Monsieur Orlac?

It was a very convincing
performance, wasn't it?

I should've been famous, too, you know.

As famous as you are.

But you were always the lucky one.

It was lucky for you that
you met me in Marseilles.

- What are you after, blackmail?

- Oh, how unkind, Monsieur Orlac.

Surely, you must know
that I'm your friend.

Besides, I came here
on an errand of mercy.

Did you know that your
charming little wife

and her wise old guardian

were planning to have you certified?

They want to put you away.

- Get out.

Get out or I'll kill you.

- How murderous we are.

Last night Beethoven,
and tonight poor Nero.

Ungrateful, Monsieur Orlac.

But Nero is generous.

Here, take these.

And I will leave you your hands.

Or should I say the hands of
the unfortunate Louis Vasseur?

Goodbye, Stephen.

I hope that the next time I call on you

it won't be in the madhouse.

(Nero laughs)

(engine rumbling)
(horn honking)

- Excuse me?

- You've come at a bad moment, Madame.

Professor Volcheff has
suffered a cerebral hemorrhage.

These gentlemen are about to
perform an emergency operation.

- Forgive me.

I hope it will be successful.

- Are they clear prints?

- Yes, they're very good.

- Are they identifiable?

- Oh, yes.

- What are you relations of the
French (speaking in French)?

- Oh, usual entente.

Not so cordial.

Why?

- Could you check those prints against

the records of a man called Vasseur?

Louis Vasseur?

- Vasseur?

Oh, yes, I remember, The Strangler.

Oh, but he's dead.

He was guillotined almost a year ago.

- I want those prints checked against his.

- You need a spiritualist,
not Scotland Yard.

- I know it sounds odd but can you do it?

- Yes, very simple.

Would you like to tell me why?

- Not just at present.

- Darling, I'm back.

Miss me?

- [Stephen] Where have you been?

- Didn't Uncle Francis tell you?

- [Stephen] Oh, yes, he told me.

It was a most affecting little tale.

I was quite worried about you.

- Darling, what's wrong?

- I spent the time looking at this.

- How horrible.

Who did it?

- Don't you know?

- I can't imagine.

Surely, you don't think I did.

- Didn't you?

- No, no, of course not.

Darling, you must believe me.

- Why should I believe you?

- Stephen, don't turn against me.

You need me.

- (sighs) If it wasn't you
then it must've been Nero.

- Nero?
- Yes.

A man I met in Marseilles.

Now he's here in London.

(light music)

- Excuse me, Miss, are you from the press?

- Yes, that's right.

- Mr. Felix just went up on the stage.

I'll call him.

- No, don't trouble.

I'm in no hurry.

I'll watch the show.

- Please yourself.

The girl's not bad.

(light music)

(music continues)

(locks clattering)

(music continues)

(swords tapping)

(sword thudding)

(music continues)

(music continues)

(music ends)

- Nero, I want a word with you.

You can come along, my dear.

- Oh, joy!

- But, Miss?

- Good afternoon, Madame Vasseur.

- You?

You are mistaken, Madame.

My name is not Vasseur.

- No, I didn't think it was.

- Go away.

You have no right to come in here.

It is private.

- [Louise] I'm only returning your call.

- I tell you, I have
never seen you before.

You are taking me for somebody else.

- I don't think so.

What about this?

- I told him it would not work.

I warned him.

- Look, all I'm saying is we want

to see a bit less of your conjuring tricks

and a bit more of your fair lady.

See what I mean?

- Yes.

Yes, I see what you mean.

- Well, do something about
it for tonight, okay?

(Li-Lang speaking indistinctly)

- You don't know what I've been through.

Like living with a wild beast.

Gets a kick out of hurting people.

Madame Orlac, bring the police.

Bring them tonight.

I will talk to them.

- [Louise] Yes.

- But please, they must
protect me from him.

- [Louise] I'll tell them.

- What was that?

I thought I heard something.

You must go now, quickly,
before he comes back.

Go by the back way at
the end of the passage.

- [Louise] Yes.

- Expensive perfume you're using, my dear.

- Like it?

- I could smell it all
the way down the passage.

- What did Felix want?

- Felix?

Felix informed me with his usual tact

that his patrons are less
interested in my brains

than in your delicious body.

- What did you say?

- My dear, what could I say?

An artist has a duty to his public.

If they want your body,
then they must have it.

- You mean we've got to
change the act before tonight?

- It's only a minor alteration.

But the effect will be sensational.

- Well, hadn't you better let me in on it?

- Oh no, my dear.

I want to surprise you, too.

(door closes)

(dial spinning)

(phone ringing)

- Yes?

- This is Walter 5780.

I'm giving you my number, Monsieur Orlac,

before you hang up,

in case you should want to
talk to your friend, Nero.

And I'm sure you will want to talk to me.

(phone dings)

(dial spinning)

(phone ringing)

Hello?

Yes.

Yes, I know who it is.

- What have you to say to me?

- I told you Madame Orlac and her guardian

were planning to put you away.

Well, it's going to happen tonight.

Unless you act first,

you will wake up tomorrow in
very unpleasant surroundings.

A bientot, dear Monsieur Orlac.

(phone dings)

- These fingerprints are
Stephen Orlac's, aren't they?

- Why do you say that?

- Mrs. Orlac is a relation
of yours, isn't she?

She was here a few minutes ago.

- Here?

- Inspector Jagger saw her.

Tell Dr. Cochrane.

- Well, the lady was in a
very excitable condition, sir.

She said that some fella called Nero

was persecuting her husband.

- Do you know anything about this, doctor?

- No.

- Go on, Jagger.

- It was something about her
husband's hands, she said.

She wanted me to have this man arrested.

It wasn't until I'd had a
word with the super here--

- That it began to make sense,

if you can call blackmail making sense.

Anyway, I'm having this man Nero picked up

and brought in for questioning.

- When?
- Tonight.

These fingerprints are
Stephen Orlac's, aren't they?

- His mind's tottering on a razor's edge.

Anything might happen.

I thought that if his fingerprints

were compared with Vasseur's
and proved to be different,

it should relieve him
of his morbid fixation.

- This was the reply from France.

As you see, they won't let
us have Vasseur's prints.

- Oh.

But this is of the utmost importance.

We must let Louise know at once.

- Stephen?

Stephen?

(intriguing music)

(phone ringing)

Hello?

Uncle Francis!

I've been trying to get you.

Scotland Yard?

But I just came from there.

Yes, I told them but I
don't think they believe me.

Uncle Francis, he must be stopped.

He's out of his mind.

Well, they're going to, tonight.

Oh, thank God.

What a relief.

- So, Nero was right.

(suspenseful music)

- Louise?

Louise, what's happened?

- [Louise] No!

- Louise?

Louise?

(lever clicking)

- Tell them to get my car around, hurry!

(suspenseful music)

(phone dings)
(pensive music)

(Li-Lang singing in French)
(light, playful music)

(singing continues)
(music continues)

(audience applauding)

(alarm ringing)
(engine rumbling)

(singing continues)
(music continues)

(singing continues)
(music continues)

(doorbell ringing)

- The porter will have a key.

I'll fetch him.

- Wait, there's someone coming.

- Where's Louise?

My dear, are you all right?

He hasn't hurt you?

- He tried, but he couldn't do it.

He couldn't do it.

Uncle Francis, Stephen loves me.

He loves me just as before.

- Stephen.

Where is Stephen?

(horn honking)

- He's gone.

(patrons chattering)

(patrons applauding)
(snare drum rolling)

(light music)

(music continues)

- Maestro.

(music continues)
(drum rolling)

(music continues)

(audience applauding)

(cape rustling)

(Stephen grunts)

(audience chattering)

- [Man] Murder!

(woman screaming)

(all screaming)
(all clamoring)

- Curtain! Curtain!

- Come on.

(both grunting)

- [Stephen] She was innocent.

I saw it in her eyes.

It was you.

(all clamoring)

- All right, break it down.

(chair clattering)

- All right, all right, that's enough.

Take him away.

(Nero laughing)

- Aren't you going to arrest me?

- No, I don't think so.

- Well, you should.

Didn't my wife tell you?

I tried to kill her.

It's these hands...

I can't seem to control them.

- There's nothing wrong
with your hands, Mr. Orlac.

Here.

You'd better read this.

It's from the (indistinct) in Paris.

The case of Louis Vasseur
has been officially reopened.

It's a nasty business but there seems

to be no doubt that he was innocent.

- Innocent?

- Yes.

- They've got the real murderer.

He's confessed.

- Louis Vasseur was innocent.

My hands are innocent.

(light piano music playing)

(light orchestral music playing)

(music continues)

(music intensifies)

(music ends)

(upbeat music)
(Li-Lang singing in French)

(music continues)
(singing continues)