All language subtitles for The_Enchanted_Islands

Here is an engraving
that I long sought for my collection.

This isle suddenly emerged
from the seas in 1812.

The English yielded to a conquest impulse,
and planted their flag there.

They were unaware of the
malignity of these isles.

A few weeks later, the Santa Isabel
disappeared back into the waters.

One would suspect the archipelago
was doomed to the same fate.

These islands might seem
fleeting and shifting,

but, once you set foot on them,

they reveal themselves to be
invariable, frozen, welded,

as if frozen in the grip of death.

Back then, when I maintained this logbook,

I was too close to what I
wrote to truly grasp it.

And now,

I am no longer certain
that any of this happened.

When I recall my wanderings
in those enchanted isles,

the power of my imagination is such...

that I ask myself, in regards
of this archipelago,

If I was not the victim of a hallucination.

The Enchanted Isles
Based on a novella by Herman Melville.

Behold the Enchanted Isles.

Sailors on the Gazelle,
all men on deck!

Furl sails!

Sailors to their posts,
to the mast!

Sailors of the topmast!

Sailors! To your posts!

Everyone to their post!

My name is Manoel de Abrantes.

I am Portuguese.

How strange to recall myself
as a young officer on this boat.

Oh, youth and the sea.

It was during this voyage
that I learned it all.

What I recall most vividly
is not the picturesque facts,

but those that taught me
how to observe, and feel.

I remember stopping by an island that
used to be an infamous pirate spot.

How strange to find such a
graceful seat in such a place.

It must have been the work of pirates,

built with purely peaceful intentions.

And yet, one can't forget they
were bloodthirsty brutes.

My friend, the world never
ceases to amaze me.

In my travels, how many times

have I studied it, like
a chemist in his lab,

to deduce its forms and substances?

An acquaintance used to tell
me I had a curious occupation.

I still marvel at the
connections between things.

Take those pirates.

One day, they're pirates.
The next, they're poets and philosophers,

and builders of stone seats.

Their double nature is in the image
of the isles they visited.

A site of desolation,

as well as a harbor of rest.

For many weeks,

driven by our sense for
adventure and scientific quest,

we sailed by those desolate shores.

Some of the passengers derisively
referred to them as enchanted.

What I admire most about
those isles is their nudity.

One thing is certain:
That is all the work of the devil.

DOMAIN OF TURTLES

Driven by whimsy, and by a desire
to explore such a strange place,

a boat was sent ashore to explore the land,

and to bring back as many
turtles as possible.

They are blacker than coal!

Who knows what they are?

How could one even imagine
them to be part of creation?

Things like these turtles
make you nervous...

Or is it I who scares you?

Don't tell me that you think
these sailors will disobey me.

Hell, I'm not completely evil...

I'm just like the turtles...

of this archipelago.

GREEN ISLE

A long time passed, and I
still thought of the turtles,

and their monstrous appearance.

They seemed to me like
victims of a malediction.

For what creatures, unless coerced,

would choose to live in a place
that has long been established...

as a sight of death, and of desolation?

We sailed for three long
months among those isles.

Things gradually took
on a fantastical aura.

That isle lives on in my soul,
as a land both cursed and noble.

In 1826, I was a witness...

to a strange affair.

Here, in 1826, a lieutenant died
in a duel, at dawn, at the age of 21.

Black Cape Island.

Paralyzed by the absence of wind,

how could we avoid feeling
the oppressive weight of the air?

We were all haunted by a cruel memory.

Don't abandon me here!

Kill me if you want,
but don't let me die like this!

Come back here!

Have pity!
Throw me to the sharks!

You are scared, cowards!

You are rubbish! Wretches!

Do anything you want to me,
but don't leave me here!

Don't leave me!

Companions! Companions!

Stay there, my brother,
you still have a chance!

Be brave!

Mateus, you are my friend,
don't leave me!

I can't do anything to help you!
Wait!

To suffer worse than death?

I'd rather die at once!

No, brother! Don't do that!

SAVAGE ISLE

As we went further along those isles,
the stories became more implausible.

I resisted believing them.

Little did I know that I was
about to live through such a story...

that others would disbelieve.

On September 15th, 1830,

convinced that the isles no longer
held any more discoveries in store,

we made a discovery.

Look, Lieutenant!

It's just a bird,
a bird with white feathers...

It looks like... like... a handkerchief.

Yes, a handkerchief.

Halt the ship.

Look, Captain.

Drop anchor.

Lower the rowboat.

Please follow me.
The captain is waiting.

There was something strangely
haughty in her expression,

as if a proud essence was
subjugating a tortured essence.

Please have a seat.

We're all anxious to know the story...

of how it was that
you've come to this island.

At least tell us your name.

I can't tell you much.

I had a husband and a brother.

My name is Hunilla.

She told us her story.

I'll tell it as best I can.

Her exact words have faded away,
but not their meaning.

Hunilla left the continent
with her husband, Felipe,

and her brother, on a Dutch boat.

They were bound for one of these isles.

They arrived and went to shore.

The captain promised to
return in four months.

There was foul play, or maybe fickleness,

or perhaps it was due
to shipwreck and death,

but the boat never returned.

Hunilla!

They sunk before her eyes.

And before her eyes, they died.

I buried him.

But my brother... never.

I've buried my life, my Lord.

But God also brought happiness.

I am very alone. Very alone.

What day was it?

What month?

She no longer knew.

Hunilla was completely lost
in the labyrinth of time.

And no other boat ever
passed by the island?

I don't have to tell you, sir.

But I saw...

Saw what, Hunilla?

You saw ships sail by?

You tried to signal them,
but they sailed on?

Is that it, Hunilla?

I don't have to tell you, sir.

It was like you said.

Fate has sent me a companion.

He's on the other side.
I'll have to go find him.

There is also food and turtle oil.

I was so afraid.

I thought you abandoned me.

I was afraid.

Pierre Ducheman. Previously a sailor on
the French ship The Lamentable.

I thank your captain for sending you here.

The source is weak, and the water
was often insufficient.

They became accustomed to thirst.

When I saw her for the first time...

Pierre did not go into the
details of his adventure.

Too young to hide his most inner thoughts,

he dwelled not so much on the facts,
but on how they made him feel.

The boat's crew had stopped
on shore for some maintenance work.

This brief stop would not
have changed things...

if that isle had not been...

the one where Hunilla was living.

Do not be afraid. The men are gone.

I've left my boat.

You do not understand me.

But how can I say this...
See, I left those men.

Forgive them.

Do not be afraid.

There are certainly
people who can save us.

I'll find them.

Let me help you. I want to do that.

Excuse me.

I've explored the island.
It is utterly deserted.

We are alone, you and me.

There's the water.

Do you not understand?
How long have you been alone?

This is unbelievable.

I would never have thought it.

I could never imagine this.

I was a fool to escape.

It'll be months before a ship passes by.

We must be rescued.

But say something.

You have no right to stay silent.

We should speak to one another.

I don't know what to do.

The days passed by.

Hunilla, Pierre told me, never spoke.

They lived as if they were alone.

Doubly alone.

I was thirsty.

The sea is beautiful.

I've never seen it so calm.

That is not what I meant to say.

You don't understand me.
I could tell you anything.

And yet...

I love it when you bend your neck.

Yes, I love it.

I would like to see your hair down.

In some paintings, women
have their hair undone.

You look at me in such a perplexing way.

Pierre talked in his mother tongue.

He knew she could not understand.

He told her his innermost secrets.

Hunilla, however, sometimes
suspected a meaning...

and sometimes understood his feelings.

It frightened me to see you in the water.

I can no longer abide the sea.

It has become difficult for me.

It has been a long time
since I have spoken.

The last time...

The last time it happened was up there,

when I signaled to my brother.

Your voice sounds so calm.

I'm happy you are no longer sad.

The loneliness was too much.

Hunilla felt like she was on trial.

But a companion has come to me...

and my solitude has become light.

I feel so much joy.

Oh Pierre, your youth.

Good night.

Good night, Pierre.

You're quite moved.

Please forgive me.

No need to apologize.

The following day...

I did not dare approach her.

I thought I lost her by
loving her too much.

She was the first to speak.

"Pierre," she said, "your
presence is sweet."

But I should remain alone.

My death like my life will be solitary.

'Is it unjust, Pierre?', she asked.
'My heart says no'.

I barely made sense of her words.

Weeks passed before your arrival.

Her demeanor was friendly,
mine was passionate.

I stayed by her. I was often happy.

Sometimes I forgot the
strangeness of our life.

I refused to imagine that
we'd one day separate.

I dare to tell you...

I wonder what I would have done
if I had been the first to spot your boat.

Now...

I am a sailor, sir.

If your captain accepts me,
I will bow down to this ship's flag.

I thank you for listening...

I must sound foolish.

Don't believe it.

I am grateful we spoke.

But, I believe the boat
will be leaving. Come on.

How many can you take on board?

We cannot take all of them.

We are struggling to survive,
and the winds are uncertain.

So just choose one.

And now the sea...

once more.