All language subtitles for Robinson.Crusoe.1997.1080p.BluRay.x264.AAC5.1-[YTS.MX]

I am a journalist, Robert.

I assure you,
I have very little interest

in your flights of fancy.

You, Daniel Defoe,
are a writer.

It is your destiny as such

to bring
this remarkable man's story,

a story of intense struggle,
extraordinary friendship

and undying love, to the world.

Well done, Robert.
Well done.

Full of life,
death, passion.

You could indeed give up
publishing for the stage, sir.

Tell me, though, what relevance
has this fine story

to an impoverished scribe
like myself?

Because, Daniel, you are
my favorite impoverished scribe.

And what is this?

The recently discovered journal
of one Robinson Crusoe.

Then this tale
you tell me is true.

Every word of it.

"The travelogue
of a wayward seaman"?

Read this journal, Daniel.

I am confident, sir, you
will find a great interest

in the story
he has to tell.

And so my story begins,

like so many other stories,
with a woman.

For as long
as I can remember,

Mary McGregor and I
had planned to marry.

However, as the McGregor family
grew more prosperous,

so, too, did the fortunes
of the Crusoe family dwindle.

As a result, the woman
whom I greatly loved

found herself betrothed
against her will

to my dear friend
Patrick Connor.

Though Patrick knew
of our lifelong bond,

he refused to release Mary
from their arrangement.

It need not end this way,
Patrick.

How, then?

Shall I cease the engagement
and disgrace my family?

Unh! Patrick!

We were friends once.

Does not that
count for anything?

We were friends, Crusoe.

But we are friends no longer.

Then we shall fight.

She is to be my wife, Robin.

It is God's will.

You know Mary and I loved
each other since childhood.

Patrick.
This is not your fight, James.

You're not like
your brothers, Patrick.

Don't be like your brothers.

You will never be together!

Patrick.

No. No.
Dear God, forgive me. No.

He's dead, sir.

Murderer.

Take to your horse, sir.

I'll not leave.
Go, sir, now.

Murderer!

He knew I did not love him.
I told him as much.

Yet he chose to fight.

You both chose
to fight, Robin.

What are you saying, Mary?

Do you believe I would
willfully kill my friend?

I walked away.
You accepted his challenge.

Would a wiser man have known
better than to fight?

His brothers
will seek vengeance.

They have already.

He was my friend, Mary.

I would never have wished
such a terrible fate on Patrick.

You must leave now.

It is not safe
for you anymore.

Will it ever be safe
for me, Mary?

Time will heal
this wound, Robin.

I will explain
to Patrick's family.

They will come
to understand.

Go with the coachman.

You can trust him.

He will take you
to Edinburgh

and arrange for
your safe passage.

Come back wiser
for the experience.

In a year,
I'll return.

Then we shall be wed.

If it is 13 months, Robin,
then shall I marry another?

I love you.

I will always see your face
before me.

A year.

No longer.

Walk on. Come on, boy.

And so I took to the seas,

the one place
where I knew I would be safe.

For many months, we sailed
the great oceans of the world.

We docked at mysterious
scented islands

under the Southern Cross.

We swam with mermaids,

and we carried fabulous cargos
of silks and spices,

jade and mahogany.

And once even, we carried
a human cargo of slaves.

Providence had decreed me
a man without a country,

yet I was not
without a purpose.

Though I had formally served
in His Majesty's army,

it was my academic background

and my intimate knowledge
of history

that lead the captain
of our ship to call on me

to chronicle our journey
through the written word.

Enter.

Captain's compliments,
Mr. Crusoe.

Thank you.
Shut the door.

Though Patrick's death
brought about my exile,

it was the thought of Mary,

of the knowledge that I would
have her hand in marriage

upon my return,

that kept my spirits strong
as our voyage continued.

Our little ship had met
and bested foul weather

and high seas
on three oceans.

Sometimes the storms
would last a week or more.

But I grew
ever more confident

in the skills of our captain
and his crew.

What do you see
in the crow's-nest?

Over there.

We'll get back into it, sir.

- Haul your weight.
- Haul your weight.

Batten down the hatches.

Batten down the hatches.

Aye, aye, sir.

We're going down!
We're going down!

Give me your hand!

Don't be foolish, sir.
Give me your hand.

Give it to me now.
I can't.

Give me your hand.

Somebody help me!

We've run aground!

As I took my first steps
in that unknown land,

a dread came over me.

I began to realize in truth
how terrible was my condition.

Hello!

Hello!

As I laid my poor companions
to rest,

I confess my thoughts
were for my own soul.

I did not know
in what land I had been cast,

in what country,
among what nation.

Nor whether I might endure
a single night here.

Let alone a week...
or a month.

I spent that first night
not daring to imagine

what dangers might prowl
or crawl beneath me,

and sleepless for thinking how
I might survive the next day

without food or weapons
or human company.

But as the sun rose,
so did my spirits.

For then I saw
that the hulk of our vessel

had caught fast on the reef
where she had foundered.

Onboard, I might find food
and drink for my sustenance...

and this gave me fresh hope.

Hello?

Is anyone there?

I found that our ship
lay so on the reef

that only half of her
was filled with water.

The forward parts were dry,

and there I found powder
and weapons and provisions.

I discovered
the carpenter's chest

and being a gentleman,

I had little experience
with the tools of the trade.

Nevertheless,
there and then,

I resolved
that I would learn.

The ship's longboat had been
dashed to pieces by the storm.

But I found a part
of an upper deck torn away.

I used this
as a makeshift raft.

Thanks to an incoming tide
and a gentle breeze,

my modest craft took me
straightaway to shore.

I began to feel
not a little proud

of my achievements...
so far.

And so I reckoned
my fortunes were on the up.

I had provisions
for a month or more,

tools and good timber.

Even good company in
the captain's old dog, Skipper.

There you go, Skipper.

That's it.
No more.

From now on,
you find your own food.

I was now making
daily excursions

away from the shoreline,

penetrating further and further
into the interior of my domain.

I knew only
that we'd been sailing

some miles
from the coast of Guinea.

And I had in mind
the possibility

that my soil was somehow
connected to a mainland

where I may happen upon
some human civilization.

I'm on an island.

In order to keep watch daily

for the first ship
that would pass at sea,

I resolved to situate myself
as near the coast as possible.

The weeks turned to months

and still no sighting
of a ship.

But I truly believed
it must come to pass.

Some vessel
would sail by my shore

sooner rather than later.

Skipper.

Quiet.
Quiet, Skipper.

My God.

No! Come back!

Come back!

I'm here!

I'm here! Come back!

Fire! Fire, fire!

Come back, please!
Please!

Please, come back!
No!

Come back, I'm here!

It was on that day
I came to see

I must no longer rely
upon chance

or fate or divine intervention
for my survival,

but solely on my own efforts
as a man.

And I found as time went by,

I began to grow even fond
of my island kingdom.

I have not been idle
with my time on the island.

Even so, my thoughts
continually turn

to the life I left behind.

Skipper, come here.
What you're about to hear

is the sweetest sound
in the whole world.

The spirit of Scotland.

Robin.

My thoughts of Mary
inspired me,

for I knew that someday
I would return.

I erected a monument
to mark my landing here.

Upon it, I've been
scrupulously recording

the days of the week
and the months

as they pass since my arrival
on the island.

One year, Skipper.

A whole year.

How many wild fantasies
tormented my mind

as I made for the security
of my own castle,

fancying every bush
and tree stump to be a man,

afflicted with such terror
I could imagine Satan himself

had taken human shape and
left his print upon my shore.

From somewhere on my island
came sounds

I believed
I would never hear again.

Human voices, to be sure.

But voices unlike
I'd ever heard before.

Stay.
Stay here.

Don't be afraid.

I'm your friend.

I'm your friend.

Give it to me.

Come on.

What do you think
you're doing?

I saved your life
back there.

I wanna be your friend.

How can I
make you understand?

Friend.

I am your friend.

Food.

Aye, food.

Food, food.

Here you go.

A gift, peace.

Aye, you want the gun?

No, it's very powerful.

And if you try to take this,

I will use this power
to kill you.

And I don't wanna kill you.

You're my friend.

Food.

Food.

No!

Blasphemy.

Blasphemy.

Blasphemy.

How could I ever have imagined
being a friend to this savage?

I saw now he was
from another world.

One surely ruled by Satan.

I, Robinson Crusoe,

would guide and protect
my kingdom against all evil.

Skipper? Skipper,
prepare yourself.

Seems we have a very unfriendly
heathen on the island with us.

Little did this pagan know,

but his adversary
was once trained as a soldier.

So he would be facing
one skilled in strategy

in the military arts.

It is hard to describe
my conflict of emotions.

In all these two years,

I'd longed for the company
of another human being.

And now we were enemies.

Hunter and prey.

And he was out there,
somewhere on my island.

Stay away from me,
you black heathen bastard.

Leave it alone.

Leave the bloody thing alone,
you hear me?

That's right,
blow your bloody brains out.

Go on. Come here.
Give me my gun.

That's it.

Give me the gun.

Give me the bloody gun.

Come here, come here.
I'll give you this.

Look, look.

Aye.

Up. Up.

Take it easy.

You understand danger?

Death.

Who are you?

What are you?

Look. Look.

Aye.

Aye.

That he was a savage
was indisputable.

And yet he seemed to be
a decent fellow at heart.

In time, I might even turn him
from his pagan ways.

Perhaps this was my mission.

What's your name?

What about Hamish?

I had a brother
called Hamish.

What day is it,
Thursday?

No, it's not.
It's Friday.

Friday.

Friday.

Friday.

Friday.

Friday. Master.

Master.

Master. Friday.

Master.

Friday.

Aye.

Friday.

Friday.

You sleep here.

You sleep here.

Just till the morning.

Food.

Stay there.

Food.

Master.

Stay.

Stay, stay.

Come here.

Come here.

I had wronged
this poor honest savage,

and I was truly sorry for it.

It became clear to me

that I could not have found
a better creature

to be subject
to my benevolent rule.

At least,
that was how I saw it then.

Friday became constant
and diligent in his work

and proved to know
a great deal

about planting
and harvesting our crops.

Indeed, to my surprise,
he even began to instruct me.

In turn,
I made it my mission

to teach Friday
the King's English.

And after six months,

I was astonished
that he learned the language

with such great proficiency.

Yet other aspects of Friday's
education proved more arduous.

Friday, I'd like to talk
to you about God.

God?

Your maker and creator.

God.

He made everything.

He made you.

Pakia.

Pakia?

Pakia, God.

Crocodile.

Before long time,
no land, only water.

That's in Genesis.

Pakia live in the water.

He make tingpopo.

He make tangpopo.

He made the sun and moon, aye.

Sun and moon marry,
they make baby. Man.

Make all men.
Make me.

No. God made you.

Pakia.

You can't worship
a crocodile.

Why not?

Teeth of crocodile.

Does this crocodile,
this Pakia,

tell you to eat the flesh
of your enemies?

Make strong.

You eat fish,
swim good.

You eat lizard,
climb good.

You eat heart,
make strong.

This is pagan blasphemy,
Friday.

The true God is greater
and more powerful.

The true God is love.

He teaches us
to love our enemies.

Pakia is not God.

Show me God.

I cannot show you God.

I show you Pakia,
you show God.

You cannot see God.

He's in the spirit.
He's in the soul.

I see spirit in the trees.

I see spirit
in trees and animals.

I see everywhere.

Here, here is God.

Here is the living proof of God,
his sacred word.

This is the living testament
to his love,

his wisdom, his divine plan.
Here.

Where?
I see no God.

No, you fool,
you have to read it.

Now, look what you've done,
you heathen savage.

This blasphemy,
and your soul

shall be damned
to eternal torments.

I no like your God.

I no like you.

Forgive all those
who trespass against us,

against you, Lord.

Against you, O Lord.

I knew I should come
to regret my harsh words.

Whether Friday was the better
for our meeting,

I do not know.

But I had good cause
to thank Providence

for sending him
to serve me.

And so I'm alone again.

I manage well enough
without him.

I eat well enough,
I live tolerably well.

But I find I begin to miss him
as a companion.

It's been several weeks now.

Our paths cross
from time to time,

but we do not speak,
we do not communicate.

In my studies of history,

I had chronicled
the religious wars

that have plagued mankind
since the beginning of time.

And how sad, I thought,
that in this universe of two,

religion had now put us
at our own war.

Yet something
had to be done.

Friday.

We can't carry on like this.
It's silly.

The two of us
on the same bloody island

not talking to each other, not
sharing what we have.

I'm sorry
for all the things I said.

Everything I did.

I was angry.

I apologize.

I want you to come back.

Good fish. Eat.

- Right, there she goes.
- Steady, now. That's it.

Come on, now. Straight ahead.
That's it, come on.

So now we were three.

And I heard once again
the sound of human laughter.

His and mine.

Straight ahead.
Come on.

- That's it.
- The first one.

I win. I win.

Go, I win.
I win.

Go in the water yourself.
They'll go with you.

Let's get the big lizards.

I finally win.
Winner.

I had not forgotten
who it was

that had brought Friday
to my island,

nor the likelihood
of their return.

The Nimas, it seemed,

were the dominant tribe
on Friday's island.

And Friday had been offered
by his own people

as a tribute
to these savages.

Powerful.

Sunguna, power.

Gunpowder.

This. Power.

This is what
the Nimas come for.

This dust that
makes them powerful.

Make great warriors.

Then they will come back.

And so I determined
to be ready for them.

Like hunters
setting traps for animals,

we prepared our welcome.

I explained to Friday

that this particular
white man's magic

would ensure that our enemies
go to meet their god, Pakia,

rather sooner
than they anticipated.

Skipper!

Skipper!

Skipper!

O dear Lord,

I thank you
for the time I shared

with this faithful creature.

He was my friend.

Does Skipper
goes to Crusoe's heaven?

Dogs don't have souls,
Friday.

Only people
have mortal souls.

Only people go to heaven.

Too bad.

Good dog.

Aye.

Friday ask Pakia
to look after dog's spirit.

Pakia. Pakia.

The lessons of humility

do not come easily
to a stubborn soul.

Once I had thought
mine was the only true path.

Now I was no longer sure.

Pakia.

The Nimas will come back.

With new moon,
many, many warriors will come.

Want your magic.

Well, we can't
fight them all.

We could build a boat.
Go away, go to your island.

No.

We cannot go to my island.

Why not?

Cannot go.
Can never go.

I am a dead man.

This island of dead people.

Aye, well, we will be
if we stay here.

Well, we build boat.

You go to your island.

If only I could.

My island's on the other side
of the world.

Many, many moons away.

What name your island?

Britain.

Great Britain.

Britani?

Yes.

Nua Britani.

You know Britain?

Not so long.
One moon, maybe.

You mean New Britain?

Nua Britani.

Right name,
Uua-ma-tupiit.

White man call it
"Nua Britani."

Have you seen white men
before me?

My father told me
about white men long ago.

Not good.

White man,
he take much everything.

Not give back.

Take land, take people.
Tanga people.

Make people slaves.

You not white man, Master.

You a good man.

If your island
is close to New Britain,

we could build a boat
and go there.

I cannot.
Do not ask me, Master.

My name is not "Master."

My name is
Robinson Crusoe.

Rob--

Robina Crus--

Crusoe, aye.

What name is "master"?

White man.

I am slave to you?
No.

It was a mistake.

I'm not your slave.
No.

No, you're not my slave.

We are friends,
and we can live as friends.

We can build a boat.

We can build a boat
and leave this place.

You gave life.

I cannot kill you.

Better I go kill myself.

Then stay on this island
and die.

But I will build a boat.

And I will live!

So my stupid arrogance
had lost me my dear companion

for a second time.

And I was alone again.

If what Friday said was true,

I was less than one month's
travel from New Britain,

one of His Majesty's colonies
off the coast of New Guinea.

But my time was short.

I had to leave
before the next full moon,

and the typhoon season
would soon be here.

I knew I would have
to leave soon

or miss my chance.

If I had not
already done so.

How I regretted
my thoughtless words.

The chances were that I would
never see my friend again.

I am not slave.

I know, Friday.

You're my friend.

I tell you my spirit name.

Only spirit,
me and Tanga big men know.

Why are you telling me this?

Crusoe gave life.

Not say more.

Give power of bird.

Fly safe to land.

Quickly. Quickly.

Fearing
that this might be a tempest

as violent as that
which cast me on the island,

we brought our livestock to
what shelter we could devise.

We waited together
to brave the storm,

which indeed proved more
fearsome than any before.

No time to build new boat.

Moon nearly big.

Nimas come.
Many, many warriors.

Yeah, well,
there's no place to hide.

We'll have to fight them.

We may die.

Dying not important.
All men die.

What matters
is how you die.

Then we'll die
like warriors.

At the time
of the last full moon,

I knew that several
of the Nima warriors

had escaped our trap.

So this time, the enemy
would know we were there.

Our only ally
would be our ingenuity

and what gunpowder
remained to us.

Pakia.

Our Father, who art in heaven,
hallowed be thy name.

Give us this day our daily bread
and forgive us our trespasses,

as we forgive those
who trespass against us.

Lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil.

For thine is the kingdom,

the power, the glory,
forever and ever.

Amen.

I do not know
how long I had lain there

while Friday ministered to me.

I felt little pain now,

but a coldness spread
through every limb.

I don't wanna die here.

You stay with me till...
Please?

Then go back
to your own people.

Cannot go.
Can never go.

You must.

Friday's dead man.

Cannot go back from here.

I am dead to my people.

I am tanuang.

This island of dead men.

No one ever leave.

I don't want to die here.

Because he was offered up
for sacrifice,

Friday was considered dead
to his own people.

In many ways,
a fate worse than death,

as he could never again be
accepted amongst his own tribe.

Ironically, this dead man
was my only chance for life.

Fri...

Friday.

Mary.

Robin.

Robin.

Mary, Mary, Mary.

Mary, Mary.

No, no, no, no, no, no.

You live.

No.

Friday take care of you.
No, no.

No, the...

Friday take you home.

Aye, aye. Home.

Having neither the provisions,
nor, in my case,

the strength to aim our sails
for New Britain,

Friday and I set out
for his nearby island.

While Friday
believed his people

could cure me of my ills,

his own fate
was far less certain.

I could not count the days
we were on the sea.

With God's grace,
we encountered only fair winds.

And with Friday
as our guide,

we sailed safely
to his island home.

Friday!

Friday!

You be better.

She use magic leaves.

Thank you.

Your wife?

Was my wife.

She think I dead
when Nimas take me.

Not come back,
she marry a new man.

Am I an evil spirit?

They think
you are a slave trader.

Many times, white man come
and take many warriors.

Many young men for slave.

Take my son.

Friday.

They think I bring you here
to make them slaves.

If I'm an evil spirit,
why does she help me?

You sick man.

Not good to kill sick man.

Bad manner.

He prays to the gods.

Aye.
What are they saying?

We fight.
One of us die.

If I kill you,
I can stay.

If you kill me,
you can go.

I cannot kill you.

I will not kill you.

I am a dead man.

No wife, no man child.

Is better to die
like warrior.

I will not fight you.

You must.

Or they kill both of us.

I can't do this.

Almighty God, welcome me
to paradise if I am worthy.

Kill me and live.

Cannot kill friend.

Do it.

Do it.

Come on. Over here.

This way. Come on.

Don't worry, me hearty.

These savages
can't harm you now.

No!

No!

No!

And so fate had saved
her harshest trick to last.

Just as a duel had caused me
to flee my native land,

so, too, did the battle
between friends

bring about my return.

I was to owe my freedom

to the men
who had killed my friend.

Who had ravaged
his people and his family.

The slavers
nursed me back to health

and then put me ashore
at Lisbon.

There I was taken aboard
a merchantman.

Six years after my departure
from Scotland,

I came home.

It was he
who gave you the journal.

Yes.

Robert,
I must write this.

You miss him,
don't you?

He saved my life.

He brought you back to me.

A wiser man?

Perhaps.

And so Mary and I
settled down to marriage

and a family of our own.

We were blessed
with happiness and prosperity.

But for the rest of my days,

I would think often
and long of the man

who had given me
the greatest gift of all,

my life,

when I'd all but lost it,

and his friendship...

unto death.