All language subtitles for Eugenia (1974) DVDRIP XviD Maestro CG

Eugenia has come to.

Okay, I'm coming.

I'm toId Eugenia
is still alive.

Good evening, Mr. Tanner.

Can I speak with her?

Not just now,
she's still too weak.

You'd better wait.

Yes, I understand.

I can wait,
provided of course,

you think
that she'll survive.

It's far too early to tell;

there's no way of knowing
before this evening.

Eugenia?

Can you hear me?

Then listen.

You recognize me,
don't you?

I'm Attila Tanner,
the writer.

I'd like to write a book
based on your father's life.

I'd like to understand him.

He was still human...
as we are.

ineed to know everything.

You've got to tell me
everything about him.

I promise I won't say
a word about you.

I'm going to try...

On one condition.

Listen to me.

I will tell you everything...
if you swear...

that when I've told you...
you must... you must kill me.

You think that
what I'm asking is horrible.

But living
would be even more...

- horrible.
- Alright.

Tell me everything.

Father and I, we lived...
just outside Berlin.

Our life was...
a dialogue.

Life was
a permanent dialogue

between my father
and me.

The truth is, the man
I called my father

was really my stepfather.

He'd married my mother
right after meeting her,

three months
before I was born.

She died two days
after giving birth to me.

It's late; you should
be going to bed.

I love to see you work...

My stepfather
was a renowned writer.

Misunderstood
by the public at large,

but a great writer,
nonetheless.

He had brought me up
with care and devotion,

and I had come to acquire

an unreasoned
admiration for him.

Since his creative work

didn't meet with
the success it deserved,

he took refuge
in essays, book reviews,

and fortunately,
well-paid conferences,

living in the hope
that someday,

his real work would be
widely recognized.

He dreamed of being
carried in triumph.

These past few years,
his interest focused mainly

on eroticism,
on erotic writers,

on erotic traditions
throughout the world,

and throughout the ages.

He also studied
all the sciences

involved with eroticism.

I often stayed alone
in our big house,

dreaming, waiting for
my stepfather to come back.

The sound of his footsteps
on the stairs

made me jump for joy.

I often went on long walks,
thinking about him,

about his work, about
our quiet and peaceful life.

When I felt lonely,

I'd rummage through
his well-stocked library,

sure that I would find
some new book to read,

or perhaps
an old, rare edition

of an erotic book,

which had survived
many generations,

and had become a classic.

"Oh, her breasts pressing
against my chest!

Oh, her eager mouth!

Her sex opening like
a flower before my own.

Her look...

in which pain and pleasure
was so intimately entwined

so as to be
indistinguishable.

A bloody string of pearls
graced her neck,

dropping one by one
on my body,

each leaving a stain upon it.

The gaping wound
in her chest..."

How are you, darling?

What are you reading?

Oh...
'A Barbarian in Asia'.

Do you like it?

No, not really...

I'll never forget the first time
snow fell that winter.

As if by some enchantment,
everything became white,

the trees, the roofs,
the earth!

Father had gone into town.

He came back
earlier than usual.

I'd curled up on the couch
before the fireside,

and I felt
a strange sensation...

a mixture of well-being
and apprehension.

Eugenia...

inoticed that while I was
gone this morning,

you took the book
that I'd hidden there.

I did.

How did you find out?

There's nothing to it.

I left it standing
this way,

and I found it standing
that way.

Are you angry?

No.

On the contrary,

it's high time
you read such things.

I think so, too.

You did like it, I hope.

More than anything
I've read in my whole life...

inever would have
imagined

that our conversation
could end this way.

I felt as if I'd been jolted
into another form of reality,

and better yet,
that I'd had the revelation

of my father's true nature.

I felt that he had put himself
within my reach.

We had created
a form of complicity.

Yes, that's exactly
what it was; complicity.

I was my father's
accomplice,

allowed to share
with him

things that I though t
were forbidden.

I didn't sleep well at all
that night.

I got up at dawn,
and went out for a long walk.

I strode through the snow
with deliberately large steps,

my head
empty of thought,

as if I were trying to
shake off the feeling

which had made me
so ill at ease

the night before.

By the time I came home
at around noon,

my father had left the house.

He'd left a message for me
on his desk;

"I'll be coming home late
tonight.

Read this book,

which I personally found
quite interesting.

I'm certain
you won't be bored."

Eugenia
had opened her eyes.

Before her stood her father,

who had surreptitiously
come into her room.

She was naked,
and she knew

that her small,
pointed breasts

often caught his eye.

That's why she offered them
to her father's lips

as he knelt by the bed and
began to bite her nipples,

his desire showing

while his hand
sought out her sex...

fresh, wet...

His caresses made her
realize for the first time

that she had
become a woman,

and now,
at this very moment,

her father was but a man
breathing hard with desire,

a Machiavellian look
in his eyes.

Eugenia,
you've just discovered

life's deepest purpose:

The quest, the grail
mankind has sought

through the ages:

The ultimate power
over human beings.

Yes,
the power which comes

through pleasure
and giving pain,

living each moment
with intensity and awareness

while they suffer.

You'll find out
that the key to life

is nothing
but your own pleasure.

You'll be amazed to find out
that pleasure

is always
at someone else's expense.

We'll carry this
to its ultimate expression

through wounds,
and blood and death.

I know you'll love
every moment of it.

You'll revel in
the secret knowledge

of having done something
savagely beautiful

but forbidden.

I accept.

I'll do absolutely anything
you want me to do,

anything you say.

Your will, will be mine.

We'll act as one.

I had a premonition...

that life would be full of
passions.

Oh, it's marvelous what
we've become to each other.

Father,
I promise to obey you.

I'm going to Paris tomorrow
for an important conference.

I'm going to take advantage
of the occasion

to commit
the perfect crime...

and I know it's possible.

There is a secret

in committing
the perfect crime,

and that is the absence
of any visible motive.

We won't have
any visible motive

in as much as we
won't know who our victim is

'till chance
puts her on our way.

We're going to pick a model,

one of those girls
who pose naked

for amateurs of so-called
'artistic nudes'.

Poor imbeciles!

There are quite a few
such joints in Brussels.

We'll rent one and take
whatever model they give us.

They'll pick
our victim for us.

Another important thing
is making sure

that witnesses end up
totally co nfused.

The way we'll do it
is simple:

We will simply not try to hide.

No one ever sees
the obvious.

Real killers always try to
cover up their tracks,

but they're always
missing clues on their way.

We, on the other hand,

have to make sure
that we are seen.

I'd never made
such a long trip before.

But that's not why
I felt so strangely

overcome by emotion.

The Eiffel Tower
and the Champs Elysees

were nothing
but mere back drops

to the adventure
which was about to begin.

Father was silent too,

but I knew he felt
the same way I did.

Can I help you?

I reserved a room;
my name is Mr. Radeck.

Oh, yes, of course.

Here's your key, Mr. Radeck.

Thank you...

Maybe you'd like to
freshen up a bit?

A few people were
waiting for us at the hotel;

friends,
newspapermen,

somebody from
the publisher's office...

people like that.

I didn 't see the point
of sticking arou nd,

and decided to go up to the
room and wait for my father.

Why don't you rest awhile?
I'll be right up...

I'm sorry I won't have
much time to spare.

What newspaper
did y ou say

- you worked with?
- The Gazette de Puteaux.

The what?

Do you mind if I take a
picture of you in the lobby?

I'd rather be
photographed

reading
one of my own books.

That's all I ever read,

so I know the quality
of what I'm absorbing.

Who's there?

Albert.

You can come in.

Did you reserve a table
at the nightclub?

Darling, of course I did.

At the Taboo.

Just in time
to catch the show.

I hear it's the best
in Paris these days.

Does that suit you?

Suits me fine.

Hand me the towel, will you?

I love to see you like this:
Naked.

Your body is just
like your mother's.

Got to change;
I'll pick you up later.

Just a moment.

Alright Eugenia,
let's go.

We'll use the artists'
entrance.

You're with the show,
I'll bet?

Yeah, we're putting on
a rain dance.

Oh, I see!

Every detail had been
worked out to perfection.

Father had worked
everything out

as if it were mathematics.

We caught a flight
to Brussels,

and got there
at the exact time,

so that the rest wouId
naturally fall into place.

A session, please.

How many do you want?

One model
cost you a hundred.

A girl and a man
cost you two,

more than two
is four hundred.

One girl is just fine.

Step right in.

Thank you.

How are you?
I'm ready if you are.

Sit on the piano...

Could we add
some sadistic twist to it?

Sure! But that's an extra
hundred francs.

Allright.

You mind giving me a hand?

Eugenia!

Bye!

We took the last plane
back to Paris,

and made it
back to the nigh tclub.

It was late ;
the show wasn 't over yet.

A man who thought
he was a comic

was putting on the worst act
I'd ever seen.

Now, why should
a fool musician

be banging away on cymbals
in the middle of a zoo?

"Bang", he said,

"They don't like
the trombone."

"How do you know?" I said.

"Well," he said,
"When the monkeys like it,

they throw me
whole bananas.

And when they don't,
they just throw the peels.

No one
paid any attention to us.

Why are you laughing?

It ain't funny!

No one seemed
to have missed us,

and most anybody
probably would have sworn

we'd spent the whole
evening in the club.

I'll pick up the story
where I left off.

Seals like cymbals,

Monkeys seemed to be
his favorite audience,

and I asked him why.

He said,
"You idiot! I was testing you!

And every once in a while,
they throw you a fish!

So, there was this idiot
blowing cymbals:

Bang, bang,
bang and bang,

moving like this
all the while.

Will you stop laughing
so that I can get a word in?

Everybody knows
monkeys like trombones!

"There," he said,
"that's a seal of approval!"

You see what I mean?

The whole thing
was much like a game.

A few hours later, we were
attending a cocktail party

at my father's
French publishing house.

The women
hovered around my father

like a bunch of silly bees.

I was terribly jealous.

Do you like horse racing?

We have some great tracks
in Paris.

I love to bet,
but I always lose.

It doesn't bother me,
I continue anyway.

Another dedication?
It's for...

Would you care for
a cup of Scotch, Mr. Radeck?

Thank you.

To your health.

Cheers!

Whom should I
autograph it to?

My brother, Andre.

You're not I istening,
are you?

Oh, the mystery
that is woman!

Such eyes,
limpid yet enigmatic.

Women are such
an unfathomable mystery,

such a charming mystery.

Earth to Eugenie,
come in please, come in please.

Excuse me.

Sure.

I'm aware of that.

Miss, just a moment, please!

Are you talking to me?

Yes, you!

You're Eugenia Radeck,

and I know many things
about you and your father.

What do you mean?

Oh no, nothing special.

However, I'd like
to have a chance

to talk a little
with your father.

Tell him I'm inviting him
home for a drink,

after the cocktail.

That way, we'll all be
able to talk far more quietly.

Why don't you
talk to him here?

Here?
Oh, no!

I hate crowds and I'm not
dressed for the occasion.

I hate putting on a tie,
you see.

Please try to set it up,
would y ou?

I know I can count on you.

I'm Attila Tanner.

You're Attila Tanner,

- the famous writer?
- Yeah, that's right.

That's what they say.

I'll see to it
Father accepts.

I'm certainly glad that you
accepted my invitation

to come over
to my place.

I'd like to tell you
that I've read all your books.

That's right.

I've been
following your career,

and admiring you
for many years.

I'm flattered.

I feel quite rewarded
by the fact

that a man such as you

should be interested
in my modest endeavors.

inever would have
believed it.

Would you have me believe

that you consider your work
as insignificant?

You're highly intelligent,
and you know it.

Here's your drink.

You've got me cornered.

If I admit
that I'm intelligent,

I'd sound pretentious,
isn't that right?

And, if on the contrary,

I should counter
with some pat phrase,

I'd sound like a hypocrite.

But you are.

I beg your pardon?

Here's to your success.

Yes, you are a hypocrite.

It happens that I know you
better than you think.

Yes, I know.

You've read all my books
and likely, all my essays.

You're quite right.

And I know you inside out.

Here, you once wrote,

in the 'Black Arts',
Chapter Three:

"Only awareness of the
harshness of natural laws

can slow us down

before the powerful
attraction of black magic."

What's hypocritical
about that?

Nothing.

But, in 'Necromicon',
you write... -

"By the very virtue
of its immense power,

black science can draw you
deep into demonic life,

and once you're on that path,
nothing can ever stop you."

There's a flagrant
contradiction.

When were you sincere?

in the first case,
or in the second?

in both cases.

You're aware

ten years has gone by
since 'Black Arts,'

while 'Necromicon'
is hardly a year old.

Surely you recognize
the possibility of change.

You mean that you have
evolved much in ten years?

It's obvious.

Only an idiot
wouldn't change his mind,

and I am sure you wouldn't
dare suggest the opposite.

From what you just said,
may I conclude

that you lead
a demonical life?

I am not sure though,

whether you make
your daughter share it.

So what?
It bothers you?

Why should it?

But, what about the law?

Are you referring to
the natural law?

Well, I was thinking
of man-made laws;

laws made to impose
some form of social order.

What about you,
Mr. Tanner?

Were you never tempted
to transgress those laws?

Of course, I was.

But it never went beyond
the stage of wishful thinking.

I'm only an intellectual.

I don't indulge
in wishful thinking.

It's been said
that mankind

is divided into
two main categories:

Those who submit
to the circumstances of life,

and those who act.

Among the latter
are those who think first.

That doesn't stop them
from acting afterward.

The others act by instinct,

and stop to think
after the action.

That's the major difference,

but they're both
men of action.

The world of tomorrow
will belong to us.

And you, Mr. Radeck?

I suppose that you act

only after thinking
things out thoroughly.

Does your daughter
share these feelings?

Passionately.

Then I suppose
that you, let's say,

collaborate closely
with your father?

Yes.

I see.

I often wondered

exactly what sort of
relationship you two had.

I should have guessed.

But I tend to beware
of my imagination.

My mind plays the weirdest
tricks on me.

That's why I'm glad
you clued me in.

We didn't tell you anything,
Mr. Tanner.

No, of course!

You didn't come out
and say you were lovers.

But I'm warning you
that from this moment on,

I'm going to keep
a close watch on you,

and everything you do.

I must say I'm very much
interested in your schemes.

There's nothing unhealthy

or moralistic
about my curiosity.

A writer needs
to dip into genuine,

extravagant characters

to add texture
to his own.

You can watch us
to your heart's content.

Father decided
we'd drive back.

The trip turned out to be
very pleasant.

We drove very slowly.

Father looked almost happy.

He was boiling over
with energy.

I'd never seen him
that way before.

The people we met along
on the way probably thought

we were a newly married
couple on a honeymoon.

Was there anything
in the newspapers?

Did they run a story
about it yet?

Yes, but they
don't say much.

A model murdered
during a photo shoot.

The girl was found dead
in a studio in Brussels.

She was killed sadistically

by a 'bizarre couple
dressed in red'.

That's all?

It's working out
exactly as you said.

How could it have been
otherwise?

I spent years
figuring out everything,

working out every detail.

No one will ever find out
we did it.

Impunity.

We can do whatever we want
with a total impunity.

And Tanner?

Oh, yes, Tanner.

He's a harmless maniac.

What do you think?

I'm not so sure.

He's intelligent;
a highly refined intelligence.

He understands us.

in the days that followed...

- our complicity deepened.

I was so glad;
I was happy.

The papers were devoting
less and less space

to the murder.

The Belgian police
were following

all sorts of false leads.

All the while,
on my long, lonely walks,

I kept on seeing
the dead woman's face.

At night, it sometimes came
to haunt my dreams.

I looked for my father then,

so as to touch him
and feel his touch...

Why don't you get
some sleep, Father?

No, not just yet.

I have some things to do.

By the way,
would you rather

I went on
calling you 'Father',

or would you like me
to call you 'Albert'?

That's funny.

You know, nobody
ever called me 'Albert'

except your mother.

You never told me
how Mother died.

I told you, darling.

She died a couple of days
after giving birth to you.

Yes, but you never
told me how.

That's true.

And today, you've got a right
to know the truth.

It's a sordid tale.

I had to wait...
till you were born,

so I could kill her.

Does that horrify you?

I simply wanted to know.

If I had known her,
it might have been different.

Do you mind telling me
why you did it?

I had found out
that she was cheating on me,

and I'd been suffering
the pains of hell

for a long time.

I can't bear
being cheated on.

I can't bear it.

But I waited...
because of you.

I wanted you.

I knew I'd have a girl,

and I had to wait
to see you born.

The rest was easy.

My life changed entirely
when you were born,

and there was
no part in it for her.

If you thought
I'd been untrue to you,

would you kill me?

I'd do worse than that.

But I wouldn't survive you -
I'd kill myself.

I'd kill myself

because nothing in the world
would matter to me anymore.

I'd do hara-kiri.

That's the only way
of killing yourself,

if you want to die
with dignity...

Forgive me.

Now, let's talk over
all these plans I made.

How about it?

Oh, how your eyes shine
when I say this.

Oh, yes!
Tell me all about them!

Let's do something
different this time,

and have fun doing it.

The occasion turned up
quite unexpectedly,

within a few days.

We'd gone to see
some very average movie

in a nearby town,

and were driving back home
early in the evening,

when suddenly,
I saw a girl

standing on the side
of the road,

trying to thumb a ride.

Did you see her?

Did you see her?
Let's pick her up.

I'm going to Hamburg.

- So you are.
- I knew it!

Oh, sit in front.
There's room for three...

She was Austrian, a student,
and an utter idiot.

She was tickled pink
having run into us,

and told us so,
effusively.

You look like
such nice people!

How lucky can a girl get!

I usually get picked up
by creeps... -

or, at least they try,
but no go.

I wait for some nice people
like you to come along,

and this time, I didn't
have to wait around at all.

Are you married?

Yes.
How could you tell?

I'm psychic.

My friends at school
can't believe it.

I can judge a person
just by seeing them.

If I'd been a boy,
I'd have been a cop.

Nobody puts anything
over on this girl.

I know whom I'm dealing
with at first glance.

That's why I don't mind
hiking.

Anybody I don't like,
I'm out like a shot!

We invited her
to have dinner with us,

and then spend the night
at our place.

She was very
happy about it.

Kitty!
Come here.

Sure.

And she was even happier
when I suggested

she put on some of
my things for dinner.

Try it on;
it's about your size.

Thank y ou!
I'll try it on.

Yeah!

Okay.

I'm sure it fits.

It's awfully sweet of you.

- Give me a hand.
- Okay.

There!

Careful!

There's some hair
caught in the knots.

Buttons! Buttons!

Life's got too many buttons!

I think it will look
very good on you.

I like it.

It really suits me.

What do you think?

Black really suits me;
I look like someone else.

Do you know how to play
the King Edward game?

No!
How do you play it?

Wait a minute.

You take a glass,
and then you say,

"To King Edward the First".

Then you do this:

One, one, one, one
and you drink up.

The next player does it twice
for King Edward the Second.

And thrice
for King Edward the Third,

and so on.

The penalty for a mistake

is emptying your glass
in one gulp.

It's easy to play and it
gets to be funny in no time.

Alright, let's play.

And I say
you start first.

Oh, alright.

It's the silliest game
I ever heard of.

But let's go: One, one, one,
one and one.

To Edward the First.

Alright, I guess
it's my turn to try.

To King Edward the Second!

One, two, one, two,
one, two, one, two.

To King Edward the Second.

All together now!

My turn now: A toast
to King Edward the Third.

One, two, three;
one, two, three;

one, two, three;
one, two, three;

one, two, three...

Let's drink to the health of
King Edward the Sixth...

One, two, three,
four, five, six.

You're one tap short there!

Down the hatch now!

Go on!

Go on!
Let's see you do it!

A toast to Edward the Sixth.

One, two, three,
four, five, six;

one, two, three,
four, five, six;

one, two, three,
four, five, six;

one, two, three,
four, five, six;

one, two, three,
four, five, six;

one, two, three,
four, five, six...

Alright, once more
around the block.

Well, I guess
it's my turn now.

Let's drink to the health of
King Edward the Sixth.

One, two, three,
four, five, six;

one, two, three,
four, five, six;

one, two, three,
four, five, six;

one, two, three,
four, five, six;

one, two, three,
four, five, six...

To the health of
King Edward the Sixth!

One, two, three,
four, five, six; .

One, two, three,
four, five, six...

You know what?
I've got it!

I understand!

Let's drink to
Edward the Seventh!

One, two, three, four,
five, six, seven;

one, two, three, four,
five, six, seven;

one, two, three, four,
five, six, seven...

Oh, that's fast!

- Go on; hey, you fluffed!
- Stop, stop, stop!

Sorry, bottoms up!

Alright.
If you say so.

I guess I've got to
believe you.

Alright,
to Edward the Seventh!

Yeah, yeah!
Hear! Hear!

Let's play
another game.

Alright. What?

Let's play dead.

I'm sure you will like it.

It's really funny.

Oh no,
that game will scare me!

Hang on.
Let me show you.

Alright, I'm dead.

And if I move,
let me be punished.

Because the dead
never flinch.

Now, try to make her react.

And if she does, we'll devise
some horrible punishment.

- Alright, I'm dead.
- Go on.

Are you ticklish?

Tickle, tickle, tickle...
won't you move?

Oh, she is dead!

You lost, and punished
you shall be!

What are you going
to do to me?

I'll think of something.

Oh, I've got an idea.

The punishment
fits the crime!

You're sentenced
to watch...

I mean,
to do a striptease.

- What?
- That's it.

That's right.

You were great.

Are you happy?

It's your turn now.

I don't m ind.

At dawn, the girl's body
disappeared forever

in the lake.

It was the first time
we used the lake

to dispose of a body.

Eight others...
five girls and three boys...

followed her
in this watery grave,

all hitch hikers.

We were never
worried about it.

One evening, Father took me
along to Berlin.

Though it wasn't far,

I almost never
went to Berlin.

The Church of Remembrance!

Ugly remembrance!

Why the devil should anyone
want to remember?

I mean, wars
or massacres or epidemics.

Why are churches
built for that?

Men don't want to forget
the fact that they're beasts.

And what's more,

they'd rather turn
to a glorified past

rather than
a happy future.

Come on,
it's getting cold.

Do you like it?

Window-shopping
seems to be a pleasure

only town folk
are apt to enjoy.

How are you, Mr. Tanner?

Nice to see you, Mr. Radeck.
How are you?

What are you doing
in Berlin?

Well, I told you I'd be
following your experiments.

That's the reason I'm here.

Is that so?

That's quite interesting!

And, what have you
found out, Mr. Tanner?

A couple of
fascinating things:

I'm referring to
two murders.

Two?
Isn't that a lot?

So it is.

Do you think
we're responsible

for these murders?

Yes, they stand out
as masterpieces.

You must be insane, Tanner,
making such an accusation!

I'm convinced
that no one but you

could have committed them.

Flattery will get you
nowhere, Mr. Tanner.

Oh, I'm not trying
to get anywhere

beyond where I got already,
my dear girl.

I know about as much
as I need to.

But someday, you're going to
fall into your own trap.

Despite the intelligence
you give me credit for?

You are smart, Mr. Radeck.

in fact, so smart
that someday,

you'll outwit yourself.

Life always gets back
at those who despise it.

Remember,
I warned you.

We've got some shopping
to do.

Goodbye, Mr. Tanner.

See you soon, Mr. Radeck.

Tanner's words had left
their impact on me.

Had we gone too far?

How was it all
going to end?

You're upset.

You mustn't worry
about a thing.

Trust me, darling.

That madman is
powerless against us.

You'll see!

We're going to do
better yet.

You'll see!

I thought
we should film everything.

Yes, it's a good idea.

Something new!

I need a special prey.

We'll get someone

who believes that you have
fallen in love with him.

The meeting with you

didn't seem
to have taken place.

It seemed that
my father wasn't worried...

for he wanted to continue
despite all.

Eugenia, it'll be
fascinating and exciting,

a brand new game.

I believe I've found the man
who fits my plan to a T:

A half-baked musician
who plays trumpet

in some small club in town.

He tries to come on strong,

but he's naive
and hypersensitive.

He doesn't
go out with women,

and he might even
be a virgin.

You won't have any trouble
seducing him,

and maneuvering him.

Then, when all's said and
done, we'll film his death.

Did you hear me?

It'll be our masterpiece!

He lived like a damn fool,
and he'll die like a fool.

He'll be so miserable,
he'll kill himself.

And we're going to
watch him kill himself.

You're going to bewitch him
right out of his life.

It won't be much fun
making love with him.

No, it won't.

But that's how it is.

I will if you want me to.

I will if you ask me to.

I'll do absolutely anything
you ask me to do.

I know I can count on you.

His apartment
is on the second floor.

He lives alone.

Do you want me
to try to meet him

tonight at the club?

That night, I went to the club
and let myself be picked up,

at least that's what he thought,

by our next victim, Paul.

That's where he played,
and not too badly at that.

Don't tell me you do
your own laundry.

No.

There's this movie star,
Brigitte Bardot,

who comes once a week.

Keeps the place clean;
does the laundry.

You know, all that shit.

And, when I feel like it,
she hops into bed,

and we make love.

I'm a great artist
and I live like one.

Damn Miles Davis!

I'll never come
within a mile of him!

Oh, here's somebody I know.

Wait a minute...

I know!
It's Che Guevara!

That's right, baby;
except it's Gue-vara.

It sounds like
you admire him a lot.

Sure I do.

He knew what he wanted:

Revolution against

a continent's exploiters
and sundry tyrants.

They got him in the end.

But he fought them,
and he fought 'em well.

And yet, they killed him
as if he were a mad dog.

They thought they'd
cripple the revolution.

And all they did
was give it a hero.

Why did you come up here
with me?

To make love.

That's right.

That's pretty funny.

Really?

I didn't know
I had such a reputation.

That's not funny.

It's true;
I want you.

Paul was an ideal victim.

Father had been right;
he was highly sensitive;

a fact which he tried to hide
behind tough-guy attitudes.

Deep inside, he was
a hopeless romantic,

a little shy and more than
a little secretive.

At first, we met
just to go to bed.

But his romantic side
had taken over,

and he had come to trust me.

He was opening up,
becoming

more and more candid,
more and more himself.

And he was beginning
to love me.

He still hurled himself

headlong into
political monologues.

I'd qualify his views
as dreamy idealism;

a quality which suited him
perfectly well,

and, made him
a passionate lover.

I could hardly understand
the transformation

which was coming over me.

Paul's love for me

was like fresh water
from a clear spring.

I felt so incredibly
different.

And yet,
I did once again

exactly what my father
expected of me.

Did you make love with
many women before me?

What do you want
to know for?

Because you still have
a lot to learn.

If you don't like it,
get your ass out of here.

Come back
in a couple of years.

Maybe you'll find I've learned
a few more tricks by then

to keep you satisfied.

Oh! I've hurt his vanity.

What's more,
you're a liar.

You'd never act this way
if you loved me.

You know what you are?

A son of a bitch

who wanted me to believe
his idiocies!

Just to impress me!

But in reality

you are nothing but
a poor fool!

According to
my father's plan,

I was supposed to stay

away from him
for a couple of weeks.

But it didn 't take me long
to realize that I missed him.

I thought about him
all day long,

and it upset me.

I had to face the fact
that I was in love with him,

that I needed him,
that I needed to see him,

that I needed
to be close to him.

One night, I sneaked out
of the house.

It was the first time
that I did something

against my father's wishes;

the first time I felt
I was deceiv ing him.

You know, I was
supposed to leave you.

I was supposed to tell you
it was all over,

that you and me
weren't made for each other,

that a man like y ou couldn't
expect anything from me.

I was also
supposed to tell you

that I'd met someone else:
A real man.

And that I was
getting married.

That he was handsome...

a real man
with a real job.

I was also supposed
to humiliate you,

make you feel
utterly miserable.

Why?

Don't ask me.

The thing...
where you're concerned,

the main thing is
that I'm here,

here for you completely
because I love you.

Yeah.

Paul, I need your help.

Oh, Paul!
Darling!

I love you.
I so need you.

I give myself to you,
body and soul.

I'm sure you will help me
to relive again.

Only you exist, for me,
in this world.

Before you
I lived in the dark,

it's true,
and it's only now

thanks to you
that I discovered love.

I can finally breathe...

it's as though
I have been delivered...

How would you like
to go away with me?

I'll take you
far away from here.

Yes, yes!

Take me.
Far from here!

Oh, I love you.

How are you, Mr. Radeck?

Excuse me,
I'm in a hurry.

You seem a little flustered.

Look, I've about had it!

Get off my back, Tanner!

I won't stand
for your persecution!

Take it easy, Mr. Radeck.

That's one strange way
to behave.

I had just left Paul,
and I felt so nervous.

I knew
I had to talk with Father,

and I apprehended
his reaction.

I had to tell him the truth.

I had to tell him
I loved Paul,

and couldn't live
without him.

I knew it wasn't
going to be easy,

but I didn't want to postpone
our conversation.

I wanted to get back to Paul
that very evening.

What's the matter, Father?

I've told you everything.

Do what I asked.

You said
you'd kill me, Tanner.

Do it. Please.

Eugenia,
you don't need me.

Eugenia, you're dying.

Help me, please...