All language subtitles for agnes.of.god.1985.DVDrip.Xvid.VCDVault

Agnes!

I'm just gonna put something here
to stop the bleeding.

Excuse me, Sister. She'll be fine.

Here they are now.

One question:
Are you guilty?

Are you guilty?

-Martha, it's you.
-What about Roger? He's free.

They want a woman.

All you have to do is meet with her
and tell the court she's insane.

Are you dictating my position?
This is sticky territory.

Nobody wants this case to go to trial.

Not the Church, the Crown,
least of all me.

-Eve, she strangled a baby.
-Nobody wants to send a nun to prison.

We're not telling you what to decide,
or even to take it.

Is there any reason why you feel
you shouldn't take it?

Today's my birthday.

I always make bad decisions
on my birthday.

Happy birthday.

Hi, kitty.

It's Helen. Mrs. Davenport confirmed
her appointment at 9:00 tomorrow.

Okay? Bye-bye.

Wait a minute.

-Yeah.
-It's Roger. Call me at the hospital.

I'd like your opinion on a case.
And happy birthday.

Helen again. I cancelled
your Wednesday appointment...

...so you can visit your mother.
Bye-bye.

Hello, Martha. Guess who?

Bonjour. I'm Dr. Martha Livingston.

Hello. I'm...

...Dr. Martha Livingston.
I....

Excuse me.

I'm a...

...court-appointed psychiatrist.

Thank you.

I believe your Mother Superior's
expecting me?

Dr. Livingston, I presume?

I'm Mother Miriam Ruth.
You needn't call me "Mother."

Most find it uncomfortable.

I'm afraid it brings up
unpleasant connotations.

-So you can call me "Sister."
-Thank you.

You must have tons of questions.

You may smoke.
Just don't tell any of the sisters.

They wouldn't understand.
Especially Marguerite.

She'd scare the pants off
Queen Elizabeth.

Besides, I miss them.

-You smoked?
-Two packs a day.

I can beat that.

Unfiltered.

Well, you have questions.

Fire away.

-Who knew about Agnes' pregnancy?
-No one.

-She hid it?
-She undressed and bathed alone.

-Is that normal?
-Yes.

-And during the day?
-She could've hidden a machine gun.

Did she have any physical exams?

Once a year.
Her pregnancy fell between the visits.

-Who is the father?
-I haven't a clue.

-What men had access to her?
-None, as far as I know.

-A priest?
-Yes, but--

-His name?
-Father Martineau.

-I don't see him as a candidate.
-Was there anyone else?

Obviously, there was.

-You didn't find out who?
-I've done everything but ask Agnes.

-Why haven't you?
-She can't even remember the birth.

-Somebody gave her the baby.
-Yes, 1 0 months ago.

I fail to see how that somebody
has anything to do with this trial.

Why do you think that?

Don't ask me questions.
I'm not the patient.

Well, I'm the doctor.

I'm the one who will decide
what is or is not important.

I don't know how to tell you this,
but I don't approve of you.

-Not personally--
-Psychiatry.

Exactly. I want you to deal with her
speedily and easily.

She won't hold under
cross-examination.

-I'm not the Inquisition.
-I'm not from the Middle Ages.

I know what you are.
I don't want that mind cut open.

Hello.

I'm Dr. Livingston.
I've been asked to talk to you. May l?

Yes.

You have a lovely voice.

No, I don't.

I just heard you.

That wasn't me.

Was it Sister Marguerite?

You're very pretty, Agnes.

No, I'm not.

Hasn't anyone ever
told you that before?

Let's talk about something else.

-What should we talk about?
-I don't know.

-Anything. May I sit down?
-Yes.

The first thing that comes
to your mind.

God. But there's nothing to say
about God.

-Second thing that comes to mind?
-Love.

-Have you ever loved anyone?
-Yes.

-Who?
-Everyone.

-Who in particular?
-Right now?

I love you.

Have you ever loved another man?
Other than Jesus Christ?

-Yes.
-Who?

There are so many.

-Well, do you love Father Martineau?
-Oh, yes.

-You think he loves you?
-I know he does.

-He's told you?
-No, but...

...when I look into his eyes,
I can see.

-You've been alone together?
-Yes.

-Often?
-At least once a week.

-And you like that?
-Oh, yes.

-Where do you meet?
-In the confessional.

-Do you ever see him outside--?
-You want to talk about the baby?

-Would you like to?
-I never saw a baby. They made it up.

-Why should they?
-I don't know.

-Do you remember the night?
-No, I was sick.

-How?
-Something I ate.

-Did it hurt?
-Yes.

Where?

Down there.

-What did you do?
-I went to my room.

-What happened there?
-I got sicker.

-And then what?
-I fell asleep.

-In the middle of all the pain?
-Yes.

-Where did the baby come from?
-What baby?

-The one they made up.
-Their heads.

-That's where they say?
-No, the wastebasket.

-Where was it from before?
-From God.

-After God, before the wastebasket.
-I don't understand.

-How are babies born?
-Don't you know?

Yes, I do, but I want you to--

I don't understand! You want to talk
about the baby, everybody does.

But...

...l never saw the baby,
so I can't talk about it...

...because I don't believe in it.

-Let's talk about something else.
-I'm tired of talking.

Nobody believes me when I tell them.
Nobody listens to me.

I don't want to answer questions.

Would you like to ask them?

-What do you mean?
-You ask and I'll answer.

Anything?

Anything.

What's your real name?

-Martha Louise Livingston.
-Married?

-No.
-Would you like to be?

-Not at the moment.
-Do you have children?

-Would you like some?
-I can't have them.

Why not?

I've stopped menstruating.

Why do you smoke?

-Does it bother you?
-No questions.

Smoking is an obsession with me.

Maybe I'll become obsessed with
something else and I'll stop smoking.

-Do you have any more questions?
-One.

-What?
-Where do you think babies come from?

From their mothers and fathers,
of course.

Before that, I don't know.

I think they come when an angel...

...lights on their mother's chest
and whispers to her.

That makes a good baby start to grow.

Bad babies come when a fallen angel
squeezes in down there...

...and they grow, and grow...

...until they come out down there.

I don't know where good babies
come out.

And you can't tell the difference.

Except bad babies cry a lot.

And they make their fathers go away.

And their mothers get very ill.
Die sometimes.

Mommy wasn't very happy
when she died.

I think she went to hell,
because every time I see her...

...she looks like she
stepped out of a hot shower.

And I'm never sure if it's her...

...or the lady who tells me things.

They fight over me all the time.

The lady...

...l saw when I was 1 0.

I was lying on the grass,
looking at the sun.

The sun became a cloud...

...and the cloud became...

...the lady.

And she told me she would talk to me.

Then her feet began to bleed.

And I saw there were holes
in her hand and in her side.

And I tried to catch the blood
as it fell from the sky...

...but I couldn't see
because my eyes hurt...

...because there were black spots
in front of them.

And she tells me things. Like...

...right now she's crying,
"Mariel Mariel"

But I don't know what that means.
She uses me to sing.

It's as if she's throwing a hook...

...and it catches under my ribs
and tries to pull me up.

But I can't move.
Mommy's holding my feet.

All I can do is sing in her voice

It's the lady's voice

God loves you
God loves you

God loves you.

-Do you know a Marie?
-No.

Do you?

Why should l?

I don't know.

Well, what do you think?

Totally bananas
or slightly off-center?

Or maybe perfectly sane
and just a very good liar.

What's your opinion?

-I believe Agnes is different.
-From other nuns? I've noticed.

From other people.

I believe that she's not crazy
nor lying.

How could she have a baby
and know nothing of sex or birth?

She's an innocent. She's a slate that
hasn't been touched except by God.

Ridiculous.

Not in her case.
She's had little school.

Her mother kept her home.
When she died, Agnes came to us.

She's never been out there.
She's never seen a movie or TV.

-Never even read a book.
-Then why did she murder a child?

It's manslaughter, not murder.
She didn't consciously kill it.

She lost a lot of blood.
She was unconscious.

-Someone else could've done it.
-Not in the eyes of the police.

-And in your eyes?
-I've told you.

She was unconscious.
Someone easily could've--

-You honestly believe that?
-It's possible, isn't it?

Who?

Another nun found out
and wanted to avoid a scandal.

That's absurd.

-The possibility never occurred to you?
-No one knew about Agnes' pregnancy.

Not even Agnes.

You've been listening to
"Mostly Music."

This is CBC radio.

Is Father Martineau in, please?

Wipe your feet.

They rise at 5 in the morning.

Please.

And they're in bed...

...by 9:00 at night.

Even if a man could get to them...

...he would probably
find them praying.

That's why I say
that the real question...

...is not only how he got in,
but when.

And you're the only man to see them?

I promise you, doctor...

...even if I had the inclination...

...how could I possibly catch her?

She would have to be a very slow...

...and patient nun.

They're a very special
and rare people...

...those sisters.

Only a few of them left
in this modern world...

...consecrated to the praise of God.

That's why we were chosen
by the president himself!

The president?

Come on, lizard brain,
can��t you tell it's really us?

Hello, Mama.

-Brought you something.
-Shut up, I'm trying to watch this.

It's your favourite.

Who are you?

It's Martha, Mama.

Here you go.

Marie brings me ice cream too,
you know.

Chocolate. My favorite.

I thought cherry vanilla was.

Not anymore. Now I like chocolate.

-Are they treating you all right?
-Martha never comes to see me.

Watch, she's going to hell.
After the things she's said to me.

Then she marries this son-of-a-bitch
Frenchman, has an abortion.

I knew that one wouldn't work out.

Not like you, Marie.

You got married to God.

Marie's dead, Mama.

When you was little, Marie, you'd
come back from the movies and say:

"Mama, that ending was so sad."

I'd tell you they had the happy
endings in a vault in Hollywood.

And you believed me.

Mama...

...that wasn't Marie, that was me.

Who are you?

I'm Martha, Mama.

The convent was built for over 50.
Not many of us left.

-Us and the chickens.
-How do you survive?

We own the land, but we rent it out.

We keep a few acres.
Some wheat, corn, some vegetables.

That's a lot of land.
You have field hands?

No, we work the land alone.

Only Sister Marguerite and I
are permitted public contact.

Sister Anne, which was Agnes' room?

That one there, in the corner.

-The one up on the third floor?
-Yes.

This convent is locked solid.

Only Marguerite has a key.
She wouldn't let Christ in after dark.

It happens in the day too.
Maybe Agnes went to him.

She doesn't know how babies
are born, let alone made.

When did you first learn about...

...her innocence?
The way she thinks.

-When she came to us.
-You weren't shocked?

I was appalled. Just as you are.

-What happened?
-She stopped eating completely.

-This was before her pregnancy?
-About two years before.

Agnes, it has come to my attention
that you've stopped eating.

-Why is this?
-I've been commanded by God.

-He talked to you himself?
-No.

-Through someone else?
-Yes.

-Who?
-I can't say.

-Why?
-She'd punish me.

-One of the sisters?
-No.

Who?

Why would she tell you to do this?
Look at me.

-Because I'm getting fat.
-Oh, for heaven's sakes.

There's too much flesh on me.
I'm a blimp.

You needn't worry about
being attractive here.

I have to be attractive to God.

-He loves you.
-No, he hates fat people.

-It's a sin to be fat.
-Why?

-Look at the statues. They're thin.
-Agnes.

They're suffering. It's beautiful.
I want to be beautiful.

Who tells you this?

Christ said,
"Suffer the little children."

-I want to suffer like a little child.
-That's not what he meant.

My body keeps getting bigger.

Soon I won't be able
to squeeze into heaven.

-Heaven is not a place with bars--
-Look at these. I'm a blimp

Oh, my dear child.

God blew up the Hindenburg.
He'll blow me up, she said.

-Who?
-Mommy. I'll get bigger until I pop.

But if I stay little,
it won't happen.

Your mother tells you this?

Agnes, your mother is dead.

-She watches, she listens.
-Nonsense. I'm your mother now. Eat.

-I'm not hungry.
-You've got to eat something.

No, I don't.
The host is enough.

A wafer doesn't have enough
daily allowance of anything.

Of God.

Yes. Of God.

I'm being punished.

-Why?
-I don't know.

Dear Jesus

It started this morning.
I can't stop it.

-Why didn't you send her to a doctor?
-It healed the next day--

She had a hole in her hand
What if she bled to death?

But she didn't, did she?

If anyone had seen what I'd seen,
she'd be ridiculed.

-She doesn't deserve it.
-She has it now.

You think she's a hysteric,
pure and simple.

-Not simple, no.
-I saw it.

Clean through her palm.
Can hysteria do that?

It's been doing it for centuries.
She's not unique.

-She's just another victim.
-God's victim.

That's her innocence.
She belongs to God.

And I intend to
take her away from him.

It's what you're afraid of, isn't it?

You bet I am.

-Sorry to keep you waiting.
-Here they are.

Don't let anyone
know where you got them.

Thanks.

Last Tuesday, I didn't eat
all of my lima beans...

-...but hid them under my spoon.
-Yes.

I had ugly thoughts about
Sister Marguerite.

Speak up.
I can hardly hear you.

I thought ugly thoughts
about Sister Marguerite

Why the hell is this
taking so long?

There are many unanswered questions.

Your job is to diagnose,
not to play detective.

Don't tell me my job, Lyon.
My duty as a doctor is--

You must make a decision as quickly
as possible, and not interfere with--

As quickly as I see fit.

The longer you take,
the more difficult it'll be for us.

Why?

The bishop is breathing down
our necks.

The sooner she's in prison,
the better

-I don't bloody believe this
-Well, the bishop will be very upset--

I'm fighting for this woman's life
Not some bloody bishop

You liked Sister Paul?

She was kind to me.
She told me I was beautiful.

What else did she tell you?

She said all the angels would want
to sleep beside me if they could.

I liked that.

She lived here for almost 70 years.

Every day she'd ring the bell,
wake us up...

...call us to God.

She took me to my secret place.

Where's that?

I promise I won't tell.
Would you take me?

Sister Paul was in her 80s?

-Did she come here often?
-Only when she felt like it.

She brought me up here last winter,
and the next day she died.

No wonder. Wait.

-Agnes?
-What?

Agnes, how do you feel about babies?

They frighten me.
I'm afraid I'll drop them.

They have a soft spot, and if you
drop them, they become stupid.

-That's why I don't understand things.
-Like what?

Numbers. You can count
and never reach the end.

I don't understand them either.
Think I was dropped on my head?

I hope not. It's a terrible thing
to be dropped on your head.

Oh, I gotta give up smoking.

Agnes? Wait a minute.

Agnes, slow down.

She said you could see
the whole world from up here.

That it looks much better
far away than it does close-up.

-Beautiful.
-And sometimes, I get under here.

It makes a wonderful sound.

-What happens if the bell rings?
-It's even more wonderful then.

It's like hiding from my mother
as a girl.

-Where did you go?
-No place as wonderful as this.

Have you ever thought of leaving
the convent for something else?

No.

There is nothing else.
Being here at night helps me sleep.

-You have trouble sleeping?
-I get headaches.

Mommy did too.

Oh, but she wasn't stupid.
She knew things nobody else knew.

What things?

She knew what was going to happen
to me. So she hid me.

-How did she know?
-Somebody told her.

-Who?
-I don't know.

Agnes.

You'll laugh.

I promise I won't laugh.
Who told her?

An angel during one of her headaches.

-Did she see angels often?
-No.

-Do you?
-No.

Do you believe she really saw them?

-No. But I could never tell her that.
-Why not?

She'd get angry.

Agnes, did you love your mother?

-Yes.
-Did you ever want to be a mother?

-I could never be a mother.
-Why not?

I'm not old enough,
and I don't want to have a baby.

Why not?

Because I don't want one.

-If you did, how would you get one?
-From someone who didn't want a baby.

-Like you?
-No, not like me.

How would they get one?

-A mistake.
-Agnes.

-Your mother--
-It was a mistake.

-That's what she said?
-You want me to say she was bad...

...but she was a saint

-You know nothing about sex?
-I'm stupid.

You don't remember getting pregnant
or carrying a child?

-It was a mistake
-A child?

Everything Nuns don't have children

Don't touch me like that

I know what you want from me.
You want to take God away.

You should be ashamed. They should
lock you up, people like you

Don't let her take me away.

-You hate us, don't you?
-What?

Nuns. You hate nuns.

-I hate stupidity.
-And the Church.

-I haven't said--
-The Church isn't on trial.

Deal with her without prejudice
or leave the case.

-This is my affair
-And mine.

-How dare you try to bully me?
-I only want you to be fair.

You expect applause for the way
you've treated this child?

She's not a child.

She should know the world is filled
with people who don't believe in God.

People who've never bent
their knees once, to anybody

People who fall in love
and have babies, and are happy

She has a right to know that,
but the Church has kept her ignorant.

Ignorance is next to virginity
Poverty, chastity and ignorance

I'm not a virgin, doctor.
I was married for 23 years.

I even have grandchildren. I was
a failure as a wife and a mother.

My children won't even
see me anymore.

They tell their friends that I'm dead.

I'm not making up for past mistakes,
Dr. Freud

-Then help her.
-I am.

Let her face the world.

Why? It's either prison or a nut house
and the differences are pretty thin

-There's another choice.
-What?

-Acquittal.
-How?

Legal innocence.

I know the judge wants any reason
to throw this case out of court.

-What do you need?
-Answers.

When would Agnes have
conceived the child?

Sometime in January.

Remember anything unusual
happening at the time?

Earthquakes.

-Visitors to the convent?
-Nothing.

-Do you have a daybook?
-Yes.

-Take a look at it.
-There's nothing here.

Was it full-term?

-Oh, dear God.
-What is it?

-The sheets.
-What sheets?

Oh, dear God. I should have guessed.

I should have suspected something.

Marguerite says you've been sleeping
on a bare mattress. True?

-Yes, Mother.
-Why?

In the medieval days,
nuns and monks slept in coffins.

-It's not the Middle Ages.
-It made them holy.

It made them uncomfortable.

The next day they were
cranky as mules.

Sister, where are your sheets?

Do you think a bare mattress
is like a coffin?

No.

Then tell me,
where are your sheets?

-I burned them.
-Why?

They were stained.

How many times have I told you
and your fellow novice...

...that menstruation is natural
and not to be ashamed of?

-Yes, Mother.
-Say it.

It is a natural process
and nothing to be ashamed of.

-Mean it.
-It is a perfectly natural....

Years ago, one of the sisters came
to me in tears, seeking comfort...

...because she was too old to have
children. Not that she wanted to.

But once a month she'd been reminded
of the possibility of motherhood.

Dry your eyes, Sister,
and thank God for that possibility.

It's not that, it's not that.

-What do you mean?
-It's not my time of month.

-Should you see a doctor?
-I don't know what happened.

There was blood on the
sheets, but I don't know why.

I don't know what I did wrong.

I don't know
why I should be punished.

-For what?
-I don't know, I don't know.

That was the beginning,
the night of the conception.

When was that?

The 23rd of January.
One of our elder nuns passed.

-Sister Paul?
-Yes.

I don't know where Agnes was.

I was needed in the sickroom.

His Excellence expresses his
gratitude for the care you're taking.

-She shouldn't return to the convent?
-No.

You're probably right.

It can't help Sister Agnes
to have this investigation continue.

I never called it an investigation.

Your mother was a resident
of Saint Catherine's.

-What does--?
-Your sister died in a convent.

-Who told you this?
-Do you still go to church?

-What business--?
-We wonder if you can be objective.

Look, just because I don't
subscribe to your beliefs--

Your beliefs make no difference
to us whatsoever.

But they do to Agnes.

-You expect me to just condemn her?
-Someone's got to suffer for this.

You've got to be merciful and quick.
Excuse me.

Agnes, I want to help you.

-I'm not sick.
-You're troubled, aren't you?

Because you keep reminding me.
Let me forget.

-You're unhappy.
-Everyone is, aren't you?

-Agnes--
-You never answer me.

Sometimes, yes.

Your mother never said things
to you or did things to you.

-But that was because I was bad.
-What did you do?

-I'm always bad.
-Why?

I breathe.

Agnes.

What did your mother do to you?

If you can't answer, just
shake your head. Did she hit you?

Did she make you do something
you didn't want to do?

Did it make you feel uncomfortable
to do it?

Did it embarrass you?

Did it hurt you?
What did she make you do?

-You can tell me.
-I can't.

-She's dead. She can't hurt you.
-She can.

-How?
-She watches.

Agnes, I don't believe that. Tell me.
I'll protect you from her.

-She...
-Yes?

-...makes me...
-Yes?

...take off my clothes, and then....

-She makes fun of me.
-She tells you you're ugly.

-That you're stupid.
-Yes.

-That you're a mistake.
-My whole body is a mistake.

Why?

She says if I don't watch out,
I'll have a baby.

-How does she know?
-Headaches.

Oh, yes.

-And then....
-What?

She touches me down there
with her cigarette.

Please, Mommy.
Don't touch me like that anymore.

I'll be good.
I won't be a bad baby anymore.

Oh, Agnes.
I want you to do something.

I want you to pretend
that I'm your mother.

-Tell her what you're feeling.
-I'm afraid.

Please, I want to help you.
Let me help you.

All right.

"You're ugly"
What do you say?

-I don't know.
-Yes, you do

"You're ugly"
What do you say?

-No, I'm not.
-Are you pretty?

Yes.

-"You're stupid"
-No, I'm not.

-Are you intelligent?
-I am

-"You're a mistake"
-I'm not

How can I be a mistake if I'm here?

God doesn't make mistakes
You're a mistake

Oh, Agnes, it's all right.
It's all right.

I love you. I love you.
It's all right.

Do you really love me
or are you just saying that?

I really love you.

As much as Mother Miriam loves me?

As much as God loves you.

I've been watching.
We were fine until she came.

She brought the devil here.

There was blood on her hand
that night. I saw.

Agnes?

Who? Mother Superior?

What?

-Look into the convent records.
-Sister

Good afternoon, Sister.

I'm looking for some biographical
data on Sister Agnes.

Mother said I might find it here.

Thank you.

-You lied to me
-About what?

Your niece

-I didn't think it was important.
-It just makes you doubly responsible

I never saw her until she came.
My sister ran away from home.

We lost touch. When I came here,
she asked me to take care of Agnes.

And Agnes' father?

Any of a dozen men,
from what my sister told me.

She wanted to prevent Agnes
from following in her footsteps.

By keeping her home,
listening to angels?

-She drank too much.
-You know what she did to her?

-I don't think I care to know.
-She molested her.

There is more than meets the eye.
Lots of dirty little secrets.

-If I'd known--
-Why didn't you?

You knew she was an alcoholic.

-I knew that after the fact.
-But why didn't you stop her?

Because I didn't know.

Oh, God.

-Larry.
-Marty, what are you doing here?

There's gotta be something missing.

I gave you the pictures.
What else?

-Maybe something they overlooked.
-What, you think she's innocent?

-I don't know.
-You gotta be crazy.

-Larry.
-You've seen the report. Cut and dry.

-Maybe something's not in the report.
-You're too involved.

Jesus. Turn this case over
to someone else.

I'll see what I can come up with.
For now, go home and get some sleep.

Thanks.

If I find anything, I'll call you.

It's Helen. You missed
Mrs. Davenport's appointment.

Call her at home.

And some reporters were
trying to get a hold of you.

They seemed persistent
and may call you.

I didn't give them your number.

My name is Jean Martin. I'm writing
an article on Sister Agnes.

I'd appreciate it if you'd
give me a phone call at 942-2424.

Hi, it's me.
I just talked with Detective Crowley.

There was one thing
that didn't make it in the report.

The wastepaper basket
in Agnes' room.

None of the other nuns had one.

Bye.

--didn't make it in the report.

The wastepaper basket
in Agnes' room.

None of the other nuns had one.

Bye.

I've gotten the court's permission
to hypnotize her.

-And my permission?
-I'd like yours too.

We'll see about that.

-You'll deny it?
-I haven't decided.

-Her health is at stake.
-Spiritual health.

-I don't give a damn.
-I know you don't.

Sentence her and be done with it?

-She's a simple woman.
-An unhappy woman.

She'd be happy with us if
she were left alone.

Why did you call the police?

Why didn't you just burn the baby?

-I am a moral person.
-Bullshit

-Bullshit yourself
-The Church doesn't--

What the hell does the Church
got to do with you?

-Nothing.
-What have we done to you?

I can smell an ex-Catholic miles away.
What did we do? Burn heretics?

That was when the Church was a
ruling body. So what did we do to you?

You wanted to neck
and you couldn't because it was a sin?

-So instead of questioning--
-It wasn't sex.

It was a lot of things,
but it wasn't sex.

My friend was run over
in the 1 st grade.

The nun said she died
for missing morning prayer.

-Stupid woman, that's all.
-That's all? That's enough.

-She was beautiful.
-What has that to do with it?

I wasn't. I wasn't.

The pretty one died. Why not me?

I never said my morning prayers.
And I was ugly. I had freckles.

Sister Mary Cleatis
called me "Polka Dot" Livingston.

-So you left because you had freckles?
-No, because l--

Yeah.

Yeah, I left the Church
because I had freckles.

As a child I could hear
my guardian angel.

She sang to me
until I was 6 years old.

That's when I stopped listening.

But I remember the voice.

A few years ago,
I was a nun certain of nothing.

Not even of heaven.

Not even of God.

And then one evening, I saw Agnes
standing by her window, singing.

And all my doubts about myself and God
were gone, in that one moment.

I recognized the voice.

Please don't take it away from me
again, Dr. Livingston.

Those years after 6 were very bleak.

My sister died in a convent.

And it's her voice I hear.

Does my smoking bother you?

No, it reminds me.

Would you like one?

I'd love one.

I'm out of practice.

-All right?
-Fine, thanks.

-Suppose the saints would've smoked?
-Undoubtedly.

Not the ascetics, of course, but...

...well, Saint Thomas More.

Long, thin and filtered.

Saint Ignatius would stub out
cigars on the soles of his bare feet.

-And the apostles?
-Hand-rolled.

Even Christ would partake socially.

-Saint Peter?
-Pipe.

Mary Magdalene?

"You've come a long way, baby"

Saint Joan would chew tobacco

All right.

What do you think
today's saints smoke?

There are no saints today.

Good people, yes.
But extraordinarily good people?

-Those, we are sorely lacking.
-Do you think they ever existed?

Yes, I do.

You wanna become one?

To become? One is born a saint.

Well, you can try, can't you?
To be good?

Yes, but goodness has very little
to do with it.

Not all the saints were good.
In fact, some of them were crazy.

But they were still attached to God.

Left in his hands at birth.

No more.

We're born, we live, we die.

No room for miracles.

Oh, my dear, how I miss the miracles.

You think Agnes is still
attached to God?

Listen to her singing.

I'd like to begin.

-Begin what?
-The hypnotism. You still disapprove?

-Would it stop you if I did?
-No.

May I be present?

Of course.

Then let's begin.

You're listening
to a chorus of angels.

Their music surrounds you like a...

...warm and comfortable
pool of water.

And while you're sleeping,
you're going to be able to recall...

...all the things
that we want you to remember.

And when I count to three
and clap my hands...

...you'll no longer be hypnotized.

-Can you hear me?
-Yes.

-Who am l?
-Dr. Livingston.

-And why am I here?
-To help me.

Good. Would you like to
tell me why you're here?

-Because I'm in trouble.
-What kind of trouble?

-What kind of trouble, Agnes?
-I'm frightened.

-Of what?
-Of telling you.

But it's easy.

It's just a breath with sound. Say it.

What kind of trouble, Agnes?

I had a baby.

-How did you have a baby?
-It came out of me.

-You knew it would?
-Yes.

-Did you want it to come out?
-No.

-Why?
-Because I was afraid.

-Why were you afraid?
-Because I wasn't worthy.

To be a mother?

-Why?
-May I open my eyes now?

No, not yet, Agnes.
Very soon, but not yet.

-How did the baby get in you?
-It grew.

-What made it grow? Do you know?
-Yes.

-Would you like to tell me?
-No.

-Did anyone else know about the baby?
-I can't tell you that.

-Will she be angry?
-She made me promise not to.

Who? Who made you promise?

It's all right, Agnes.
It's all right.

Let's go to your room.

It's a night about six weeks ago
when you were very sick.

-I'm afraid.
-Don't be, I'm here. It's all right.

Tell me what you did
before you went to bed.

-I ate.
-What did you have for dinner?

Fish. Brussels sprouts.

-You don't like Brussels sprouts?
-I hate them.

-And then what happened?
-We went to chapel for vespers.

I left early because
I wasn't feeling very well.

-What?
-I'm being followed.

-Sister Marguerite.
-It was her who knew about the baby?

See your room as you saw it
on that night.

-Open your eyes. What do you see?
-My bed.

-What else?
-A crucifix.

Above the bed?

Anything else?

-What do you see? What is it?
-A wastepaper basket.

-Know who put it there?
-No.

-What's it for?
-My sickness.

-What do you feel?
-As if I've eaten glass.

-What do you do?
-I have to throw up.

I can't.

-One of the sisters has fed me glass.
-Which one?

-I don't know. They're all jealous.
-Of what?

Of me. Oh, God

Oh, God

Water. It's all water.

-Why isn't anyone coming?
-They can't hear me.

Oh, God, no, please
I don't want this to happen.

-I don't want it.
-Stop her

-What?
-Get away from me.

-Who?
-I don't want you here.

-Is someone in the room with you?
-No, don't touch me. Please

-Stop her She'll hurt herself
-No, let her go

-You're trying to kill my baby
-I said, leave her alone

No, stay in. Please, stay in

It wasn't my fault, Mommy.

It was a mistake, Mommy.

All right, Agnes. It's all right.
One, two, three.

It's all right.
It's me, Dr. Livingston.

It's all right, it's all right.

-Thank you, Agnes. How do you feel?
-Frightened.

Do you remember what just happened?

-Yes.
-That's good.

-Do you feel well enough to stand?
-Yes.

There you go.

It's all right.
Yes, it's all right. It's all over.

It's all right, Agnes. That's right.

That's right.

That's right.

Excuse me. Hello?

I'm looking for some ground plans
for the...

...Saint Mary Magdalene Convent
in Berthierville.

Oh, very interesting, I guess.

Excuse me.

This has everything.

Even the secret entrances.

They all had them.

Usually to get from building
to building in the snow.

That's how he got in.
Or she got out.

Excuse me. What did you say?

Nothing. May I take some notes?

Okay.

-Is the doctor in her office?
-Who is calling?

-General MacArthur.
-Just a minute. You can't go in there

-It's okay. Close the door.
-We're taking you off the case.

If we want to hire a psychiatrist,
we'll find our own.

-Who'll ask questions you want asked.
-One with objectivity and respect

-For the Church?
-For Agnes.

-Think she's a saint?
-She's touched by God.

How? She hallucinates,
stops eating, and bleeds.

That's why she can't be touched?
Give me a miracle

-The father.
-Who is he?

Why must he be anybody?

-My God. You're crazy.
-I'm saying it's possible.

-How? A white dove?
-Don't be ridiculous

-Give me an explanation
-A miracle has no explanation.

If she can put a hole in her hand
without a nail...

-...she can split a cell in her womb.
-This is insane.

No man could have gotten in
that night.

-God did it?
-That's like saying Martineau did it.

-I'm saying God permitted it.
-But how?

-You won't find all the answers.
-You don't believe in miracles.

But I want the opportunity to believe.

You believe a lie because you won't
face that she was raped or seduced...

-...or was the seducer
-She's innocent.

She's not an enigma. What she's done
is explainable through psychiatry...

-...one, two, three.
-That's what you believe?

-That's what I have to believe
-Why are you so obsessed with her?

You think about her all the time.
You're bent on saving her. Why?

I'm not accusing, I'm recognizing.

There's a tunnel out of the crypt
into the barn. Did you know that?

There's an answer.
That's how she got out.

-How could she find out?
-Somebody told her.

-It hasn't been used for 50 years.
-Stop lying, Mother

-Why would I lie?
-Because it's murder

She told us there was another person.

Who was that person, Mother?
Was it you?

If it's murder, then it's the Crown
Attorney you have to talk to, not me.

And definitely not Agnes.

Not too fast. No.

-All I want is one more week.
-Why?

Mother Miriam is very adamant
about this.

-You haven't shown any progress.
-I'm getting to her.

You're getting to all of us.

-I'll have a decision by next week.
-It's gone on long enough.

-Joe, she didn't kill the baby.
-You have proof?

-I will.
-When?

Next week, I'll get you new evidence.

No.

Tomorrow. I'll get it by tomorrow.
I will.

Yeah.

Excuse me, Mother.
Dr. Livingston's here.

-You'll take her apart.
-Where is she?

-Hasn't she had enough?
-I have more questions.

-You're determined.
-Who knew she was pregnant?

-Why do you persecute her?
-Was it you?

-Did you know she was pregnant?
-Yes.

-You didn't send her to a doctor?
-It was too late.

For an abortion?
Too late for what?

-To stop it.
-The baby?

-The scandal.
-You went to help.

-She didn't want help.
-You wanted it gone.

-No.
-The wastebasket.

It was for the blood and sheets.

And the baby. You used the cord.

No, I wanted her to have the baby
when no one else was around.

But there was
so much blood, I panicked.

-After you killed the child?
-I left it with her to go for help.

-I doubt that's what she'll say.
-Then she's a liar

-Agnes, can you hear me?
-Yes.

I want you to remember
a night last January.

The night Sister Paul died.
Do you remember?

What's the matter?

-She said, "Michael."
-What did she mean?

The statue. She had shown it
to me the day before.

-And the passage to the barn?
-Yes.

-Why?
-So I could go to him.

-Who?
-Him.

-She knew about him?
-She'd seen him too.

-Where?
-From the bell tower before she died.

-So she sent you?
-Yes.

What happened?

-He's here.
-Are you frightened?

Yes.

Hello?

Where are you?

Is it you?

But I'm afraid.

Yes. Yes, I do.

Why me?

Wait. I want to see you.

What do you see?

Halos. Dividing and dividing.

Feathers are stars falling.

Falling into the iris of God's eye.

It's so lovely. It's so blue

Yellow, black wings, brown, blood

No. Red His blood

My God, I'm bleeding

I'm bleeding

It won't stop
I can't get it to stop

-Let go of me. I wish you were dead.
-Agnes.

-Stay away from me
-Agnes.

That man in the barn
did a terrible thing to you.

He hurt you. It's not your fault.

It's his fault. Tell us who he is.

-We'll stop him.
-It's your fault.

-Who did you see?
-I hate him.

-Who?
-I hate him for what he did to me.

-For what he made me go through.
-Who?

-Agnes, who did this to you?
-God

It was God

And now I'll burn in hell
because I hate him.

You won't. It's all right to hate him.

-Enough.
-And the baby?

-She can't remember
-The baby.

-It was dead.
-It was alive.

-I don't remember.
-It was alive, wasn't it?

Yes

-Mother Miriam was with you?
-Yes.

-She took the baby.
-Yes.

You saw it all, didn't you?
And then, what did she do?

Agnes, what did she do?

She...

...left me alone
with that little thing.

I looked at it.

And I thought, this is a mistake.

But it's my mistake, not Mommy's.

God's mistake.

I thought I can save her.

I can give her back to God.

-What did you do?
-I put her to sleep.

How?

I tied the cord around her neck.

Wrapped her in the bloody sheets...

...and stuffed her in the trash can.

In view of the situation
as it now stands...

...and the testimony given here
this morning...

...it seems quite clear
that the defendant...

...was in no manner responsible
for her actions.

It is the judgment of this court...

...that she be returned
to the convent of Mary Magdalene...

...where she will be cared for
under proper medical supervision...

...by a visiting physician.

Do you have something to say?

I stood in the window of my room...

...every night for a week.

And one night, I heard
the most beautiful voice imaginable.

And when I looked...

...l saw the moon shining down on him.

For six nights he sang to me...

...songs I had never heard.

And on the seventh night,
he opened his wings...

...and lay on top of me.

And all the while he sang.

Please remove her from the court.

Would someone please remove
the defendant from the courtroom?

I don't know the meaning
behind the song she sang.

Perhaps it was a song of seduction,
and the father was a field hand.

Perhaps it was a lullaby she
remembered from many years ago...

...and the father was hope
and love and desire.

And a belief in miracles.

I want to believe
that she was blessed.

And I do miss her.

And I hope that she's left something,
some little part of herself with me.

That would be miracle enough,
wouldn't it?