All language subtitles for Penny.Dreadful.City.of.Angels.S01E04.Josefina.and.the.Holy.Spirit.720p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.H.264-NTG

Previously,
on "Penny Dreadful"...

City of Angels.

Sister Molly
was fucking Hazlett.

- You don't know that.
- Take the valise.

You run it down
and tell me I'm wrong.

My boy Tom
is having a birthday party

this Sunday.
Bring Frank,

and he will have friends.
Do say you'll come, yeah?

No, no.

Councilwoman Beck's
opened fire

on me and the motorway.

We need to do something
about her.

Really, sir, your audacity
is truly as Herculean

as your appetite.

You know what he'll do now.

Let him sneak
a chocolate malt.

If it were only a malt.

You need to conclude
the Hazlett case.

You want us to conclude
the Hazlett case,

not solve it?

That is entirely correct.

What are you crying about?

Officer Reilly.

I never seen
anything like it.

He was so smooth.

Brother, when are we
gonna get active?

We have to fight.

First we make them look.

Then we make them scared.

Men talking in Hebrew...

City of Angels
Penny Dreadful

*Penny Dreadful City of Angels*
Season 01 Episode 04

Episode Title:
"Josephina and the Holy Spirit"

Aired on:
May 17, 2020

Sync corrections by srjanapala

Get back!

Get back!

What the fuck?

It's got nothing
to do with you.

You cuffed him
to a chair?

Cocksucker tried to bite me.

Stay away from him,
or I'll fucking kill you!

Detective!
My office.

Reilly, put him back
in the pen,

and get the blood off him.
Jesus Christ.

Are we arresting every goddamn
Chicano in the city?

You want me to go
into the cells?

Sit down and shut up.

Close the door.

Look at them, Detective.

I've seen them.

Look at them.

What are the kids' names?

‐ Detect...
‐ Steve and Marion.

Steve's about the same age

as that boy you had cuffed
to a chair.

Officer Reilly was
interrogating a suspect,

and he'll go on doing that

till he gets someone
to confess.

What the hell
are you doing, Detective?

Lewis said Hazlett might have
been cooking the books,

shacking up with some gal
in a love nest, right?

I'm running it down.

When's Lewis back?

Couple of days, he said.

Oh, Jesus, you two.

Work the case.

Give me something, Tiago.

Will you stop
the interrogations?

Give me a reason to.

Go do your job.
Dismissed.

So I'm pleased
to report

that Via Hermosa Development
has agreed

to take over the construction
of the motorway

at no additional cost.

We should be able
to break ground

as soon
as the full City Council

votes
next month.

I expect the Council
will approve

our recommendations in full

because they understand

the Maynard West
Memorial Motorway

will begin the process
of healing this city

and will be a legacy
of which we can all be proud.

Now, if there's nothing else...

Point of order,
Mr. Chairman.

Councilwoman Beck?

You know what's interesting?

I took a little drive
out to Belvedere Heights

the other day,
stretch my legs a bit,

and something
sort of struck me.

Ken, if you will.

Now, you all recognize
this line here.

That's the route
of the motorway.

But I talked to some engineers,

put some questions to them,

and those clever gentlemen
came up with this.

As you can see, this route

entirely bypasses
Belvedere Heights

and goes
through the hills here,

the hills
where no one lives

but a few coyotes
and jackrabbits,

none of whom vote.

Now, I'll grant you this.

It'll add about four minutes

to the drive to Pasadena.
Four minutes.

But if our goal
is truly to heal this city,

as you said,
Mr. Chairman,

I can't imagine
those four minutes

will make much of a difference.

Don't you agree?

And after speaking
with my many old friends

on the City Council
and in the mayor's office,

I can assure you,
they also agree.

Sir, we can fight this,
put our own engineers...

Cancel my speech
tonight.

Oh, we can't cancel
this evening, sir. We need...

Do what I tell you, woman!

This Nazi...
I know he killed them.

I just can't prove it yet.

So what do you do now
about Anton and Sam?

I talk...

to Benny Berman.

This doesn't surprise you?

You know who was president
when I was born?

Ulysses S. Grant.

Not a lot surprises me.

But this is a gangster
you're talking about.

‐ He's a Jew.
‐ You better hope

he's a good Jew.

This is about a lot more
than Anton and Sam now.

These Germans...

It's terrible, what I know.

I need help.

You got me.

I know.

Lewis,

this Benny Berman...

you be careful.

At my age, I can't afford
to lose any more friends.

No, no, no, no.

That is Old World,
19th‐century thinking.

The Bund has to get
on the radio.

We can make as many speeches
as we want in Pershing Square.

Who hears us?
A handful.

We get on the radio,
who hears us?

Everyone, all at once.

The Jews own the radio.

Not the Catholic stations.
We talk to them.

We talk to the Episcopals.
We talk to the Baptists.

We talk to that woman
with the temple.

So now you have us working
with a radio show cult, huh?

With the devil himself,

if he will give us
a microphone.

You will excuse me.

So pleased you could come.

Yeah, you're good
to ask us.

You have a beautiful home.
My heavens.

Oh, yeah.
Thank you, yeah.

Hey, Frank.

‐ Hello.
‐ Come on over.

We've got a piñata.

- ‐ May I?
- ‐ Have fun.

That smile I've not seen
in too long.

We did not know what gift
to bring for your Tom.

I made a cake,
and I left it inside

with the Mexican woman,
but

you have
so much food already.

You didn't need
to bring anything.

I left Frank's sleeping bag
inside as well.

Ah, good.
Yeah, he'll have fun tonight.

I won't let them stay up
too late.

Don't worry.

Where's the fun in that?

I should perhaps meet
Mrs. Craft, ja?

And who now is this?

You keep her hidden,
Herr Peter.

Uh, Mrs. Elsa Branson,

may I present
Mr. Herman Ackermann.

Speaking German...

It is a pleasure,
Mr. Ackermann.

Wait, wait, let me guess.

The accent is Berlin, ja?

But I can do better.

We don't need
your party trick now.

No, please, tell me who I am.

Now I have it.
Kreuzberg.

With the artists you lived, ja?

Ja.
That's wunderbar.

It's marvelous.

You are a Berliner?

Grunewald, born and bred.

Now walk with me and tell me
everything about yourself.

No.
Uh...

She must meet
the other fellows.

Uh, you will like them.

We're, um, sort of
a... political club.

Oh, I'm not much
for politics.

That's okay; they also
drink beer and sing and...

Speaking German...

Yes, typical
Bayerische, huh?

You have turned
Dr. Craft's pretty backyard

into a beer hall, gentlemen.

Away from their wives.

Ah, you're not married.

Not for me the handcuffs, Elsa.

I keep my wings free.

Can I get you more beer?
Another stein, yeah?

No, no, no.
Give us a song, girl.

Yeah, you know
the beer house songs.

We didn't learn
your filthy songs

in Kreuzberg, sir.

Oh, leave the poor girl alone,
now, huh?

‐ She doesn't want to...
‐ Ja, okay.

You will help me
with the words.

‐ It's been so long.
‐ Oh, I'll help you, I promise.

Singing in German...

Another whiskey sour.

Yes, ma'am.

So you know.

Why'd you lie to me?

‐ Did I?
‐ Knock it off.

You were having
an affair with Hazlett.

It's no business of yours.

You were having an affair
with a married man

who ends up dead.
That makes it my business.

Oh, so I murdered him
and his wife and his children?

You embarrass yourself.
Get out.

Not until I get
some answers.

All right.

I was sleeping with him,

and he wasn't the first,

and I didn't kill him,

and I don't know
anything about it,

and you can slap handcuffs
on me

and take me down
to the station.

Is that what you want?
‐ I want the truth.

Oh, I see.

I'm not who you want me to be.

Well, I'll tell you, friend.

I'm not who anyone
wants me to be.

I am only who I am,

and that woman
needs you...

needs you to leave her
in peace.

If poor James Hazlett
let me have

a quiet life for ten minutes

somewhere safe
where I could just breathe,

then you must allow me that.

I cannot be what you want.

Molly...

We were someone else
for a day.

Now that's over.

It doesn't have to be.

Listen to yourself.

Don't you want more?

"Want"
doesn't enter into it.

I am Sister Molly.
That's who I am.

It's all the value
I have in life.

We are who we are.

I never want to see you
again, Detective.

Linda, where might I find
the powder room?

Oh, it's just down the hall,
past the kitchen.

Hey.

You know, Elsa,

my husband,
your friend, Dr. Craft...

he's not who he pretends
to be, dear.

Ask him about Essen.

Ask about his family.

Shhh...
Just between us girls.

Before you start measuring
the fucking drapes,

find out
who he really is.

You know,
just between us girls.

My dear,

I will not let you
turn me

into anything so banal
as the rejected wife.

Are you all right,
Mrs. Branson?

You have such
a beautiful life here.

You know how I live.
You've seen my house.

This is the life I dream of.

Beruhre mich, schatz.

Ja, ja.

Verletz mich.

Verletz mich, liebes.

You give me a moment, huh?

Sure, honey.

You take your time.

You are one annoying Jew.

Now, when a policeman
is banging on doors

all over the city,
looking for me,

I find it disquieting,

and I do not like
disquietude.

What do you have to say
to me?

That man was killed
by Nazis.

‐ In LA?
‐ Oh, yeah.

And this is what
we're to converse about,

you and me?

You and I.
You and me.

‐ You and I.
‐ Hey, Jane Austen,

shut the fuck up.

All right, talk.

You ever heard of a man
named Wernher von Braun?

He's a rocket scientist
in Berlin...

you know, payloads and apogees
and the such‐like.

So he's working
on a new rocket

with a big engine
called the V‐2,

and everyone's racing
to catch up,

including a bunch of kids
at Caltech over in Pasadena.

So just for the sake
of argument,

let's say these kids
beat the Krauts to it.

They figure out how to make
this big new rocket fly.

And say the Germans
steal that science

and get it back to Berlin.

And what do you know,

Mr. Hitler
suddenly has a rocket

that can reach London

and Jerusalem

and New York.

That's why the Nazis
are in LA.

I'm here because they killed
two of my friends,

and I'm scared,
and I don't know what to do.

In what fanciful cogitation

does this have anything
to do with me?

Everybody knows your boss,
Meyer Lansky,

sends guns and money
to the Irgun in Palestine,

supports the Zionists there
against the Arabs.

‐ So if he...
‐ Amigo.

That is a name

which should never escape
your lips with such felicity.

There is no Mr. I.
There is you,

and there is me,

and if you continue
to waste my time,

there won't be you much longer.

Then answer me this.

Why are you in LA?

‐ What?
‐ You arrive here

and kick out the wops
in spectacular style.

Why do you do this?

Because you and your associates
see opportunities here.

City's wide open.
Police are fucked.

Mayor's office is on the take.

City council only wants
to make money.

The Nazis are here
for the same reason.

New York is closed to them

'cause Mayor LaGuardia's
half‐Jewish,

and he's not letting
a pack of Germans

take over his city, but LA?

Oh, it's the promised land.

Is it not, Mr. Berman?

Oh, what have the Jews
ever done for me?

You know how many temples
I tried to join here?

All of them.

And you know how many took me?

None.

There's your fucking tribe.

Look around.

They've been burying Jews here
for a hundred years.

Had to build our graveyard

out in godforsaken
Elysian Park.

That's how much they hate us.

No one gives a shit
about the Jews

but the Jews.

My friend, look, I have
enough battles to fight.

The Germans get that rocket,
the fight's over.

To them, you're not
Murder, Incorporated.

You're just another greasy yid.

And a broken‐down cop

a couple years away
from retirement

is gonna take down
the Third Reich?

Fucking right, I am,

and you're gonna help me.

Ah, just go back
to your precinct, officer.

You see that grave?

He died to save Jews.

"Son of Palestine."

Was he from the Holy Land?

Van Nuys.

But all his life,

he dreamed of Judea.

As do we all.

I'll be in touch.

And slowly, Danny crept
to the door,

leaving behind
a trail of blood

and oozing guts,

step by step.

Reaching out for the doorknob,

his skeleton hand
turned the knob.

Creak!

I'm home!

Suckers.

Come on, who has another one?

I do.

May I?

It's not a ghost story.

This is a true story.

The little girl's name
was Florence Moore.

She was 12 years old
when the man kidnapped her

right outside her school.

She must have been scared.

The father arranged
to pay the ransom

and drove to meet
the kidnapper.

It was a dark night,

like tonight,

and he saw Florence

sitting in the passenger seat
of the man's car,

staring at him.

She looked so scared.

The father paid the ransom
to the kidnapper,

who said he would drop
Florence off.

Then the man
drove off with her,

but he stopped
at the end of the street

and dumped Florence
out of the car

and drove off.

Her dad ran up
and saw her.

He had cut off her arms,

her legs,

and held her eyes open
with wires

so she would look alive...

...But she was just
a bloody torso.

Florence Moore
lived in Pasadena...

just a few blocks from here.

Tommy?

Tommy!

It hurt
when he cut me up.

I was still alive.

You said five.

Did I?

You said five.

No, I didn't.

Fuck you, faggot.

When you're a big movie star.
Can I be your bodyguard?

‐ Stop it.
‐

What happened to your hand?

Hold on.
Hold on.

‐ What you got in there?
‐ What?

We had some kids

spray‐painting over there
at the construction site.

That's against the law.

Hey, I know you.

Huh?
Huh? Huh?

Not such a tough little monkey

without your Pachuco pals.

Leave us alone.
We didn't do anything.

Hold him.

You know the drill, kids.
You carrying any weapons?

No!

How about you, honey?

What?

"What?"
Grab the fence.

Grab the fucking fence.

‐ Don't touch her!
‐ Pipe down, Pancho.

We gotta be sure, you know.

You senoritas...

hide weapons
all over the fucking place.

Don't touch her!

Have a nice day.

'Fina...

You can't tell Mama...

or Tiago, or anyone else.

Promise me, Mateo.

I'm so sorry.
I could...

Shh.

Just don't talk.

I don't know what to do.

This woman,
she's... complicated.

I don't know if I'm coming
or going...

mostly going, I guess...

but then she acts differently.

I don't know
if I should trust her

or not trust her or what.

Jesus.
You're dating a white woman.

How do you know that?

Chicanas, you always know
where you are.

They make you chase them
until they catch you.

Gringas are crazy, man.

Give up the idea
of having a big family.

Ruin their figure.

I'm not dating anyone.

We just had one afternoon.

But it was special,
you know?

Don't worry.

I'm gonna give a good speech
at your wedding.

Maria speaking Spanish...

Don't start eating.
Wait for the kids.

Tiago's dating a gringa.

Ay Dios, this now!

I'm not.

What took you so long?

Come on, it's getting cold.

Your brother's dating
a gringa now.

God.

Hey, your hand's bleeding.

Give me that.
Come on.

Ma... Mama, no.
It's just...

Give me that.
You're not gonna bleed

over my good tablecloth.

Jesus Christ.

Que es esto?

Fucking Pachuco mark.

You let them do this
to your skin?

Who are you, boy?
You're a gangster now?

What is this?

I could pull you in right now.

Any damn cop in LA
sees that shit...

‐ You gonna arrest me?
‐ You shut up!

Mateo, you explain this
to me right now.

No, no.

Don't even bother.
I'm ashamed of you!

Well, I'm not.

I'm fucking proud
for once in my life.

‐ Hey, you calm down.
‐ So you're gonna fuck up

your life, Mateo, being
a goddamn Pachuco?

That's right; better than being
a goddamn cop.

I'm not ashamed
of being Chicano, not anymore.

You think you know
what you're talking about...

You don't understand
one thing about it!

You clean
their fucking toilets,

and you kiss their ass!

You are all
so fucking weak,

and I am tired of being weak!

Get out, then!
Go to your gangsters

and get killed!

Speaking Spanish...

Mama...

‐ I have to talk...
‐ Not now, Josefina.

I don't do it
all the time.

I just...

They just blow me

when I don't have time
for a date with a woman.

You know, all that time.
I just... let them blow me.

Don't do that.

They lock from up here.

You're American.

I'm a lot of things.

Please don't hurt me.

No, no.

No, no, please.

No...

No, please.

Please, please don't.

Top or bottom?

Bottom.

What do you expect?

Things like this happen
all the time, Mateo.

This was two blocks away
from our house,

and I couldn't do
a fucking thing.

My sister, man.

Reilly's one bad cop.

Are there any other kind?

My brother's a cop.

Oy.

Someone gotta teach
that fat man a lesson.

Fucking right.

But we sit here,

and we talk, and we talk,

and we play cribbage.

What do you have in mind, baby?

Make him look like Diego.

Reilly keeps
these little girls

down Sonoratown,

puts them on smack,
and they're his bitches.

I know the one now, Sofia.

She was a good girl.

You know the place?

Over on Alameda.

This was my sister, Rico.
Yes.

So you're gonna bust him up,
hmm?

I'm gonna do something.

I'm with you.

Let's do what Pachuco do.

Raise your voice!
I hear you.

Raise your voice.
The Lord hears you.

You are silent no longer!

You are heard.

You must be heard.
Sing out!

Sing out!

Let me hear you!

These are the days
of roses and thorns,

and we need your voice,

we need your prayers,

because Satan walks
outside that door...

...that beast who tempts us

and teases us

and pulls us

down, down,

down to the everlasting pit

where the crown of thorns

rips at our skin.

We must fight him.

We must stand up
and be heard!

We can no longer
be weak and powerless.

Women, do you hear me?

Yes.

I was once
as you are now,

afraid and unheard.

But sisters, I learned
to stand up.

Yes!

Who will stand up with me now?

Stand up and be heard!

Raise your head.

Raise your voices!

‐ Amen!
‐ Lord, children,

do it now,

for the beast, Satan,

is here!

Can't you hear him walking?

He is here.

He is here.

He is here!

Children, you are not safe.

You are not safe.
Lord, save us.

Save us!

Save us!

Come...

and be sanctified.

Come and be saved.

Come and follow
the Lamb of God

to paradise.

‐ Who will be saved?
‐ Yes.

Who will be saved?

Child of God,

come with me
on that holy road.

Will you do that, Sister?

What the...?

What the fuck?
Get your monkey ass...

Jesus fucking Christ.

Good evening,
Detective Michener.

You'll forgive
the rather baroque subterfuge,

but necessity requires
certain, well, protocols.

Fucking hell.

Will you come with me?

Like I have a choice.

May I introduce you
to Leonard Schiff,

a member
of our organization

on the outs right now,
you could say.

Now, at our last interview,

you mentioned
Mr. Lansky's support

for the Zionist cause.
You recall?

Yeah.

Well, couple days ago,

our Mr. Schiff here
makes his way

down to old Mexico

and hijacks a shipment
of Mr. Lansky's weapons

intended for Palestine...

kills two good guys
in the process

and a boatload of spics.

Now, can you guess

what he did
with those weapons?

Go on, guess.

I don't know.

I'm sorry.
Can't hear you.

I don't know.

Why, he sold them
to your friends, the Nazis,

right here in LA,

probably the same ones
that murdered your friend.

You stupid fucking putz!

Now, Mr. Schiff, he's a...
he's a good Jew,

you understand.
Every temple wanted him.

Kill him.

Do we do business,
my friend?

Go fuck yourself.

By blood and fire Judea fell.

By blood and fire

Judea shall rise.

Kill him.

He's seen us, Mateo.
He knows who we are.

Do it.

She's your sister.

Let's hope
we don't have to use it.

Better he's with your guy
than hustlers on the street.

This way, we protect him
from himself.

Kurt will see to that.

He knows precisely
what to do.

Ah, love.

What it does to us.