All language subtitles for Night Gallery - 01x00 - The Cemetery - Eyes - The Escape Route

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Good evening, and welcome
to a private showing...

of three paintings displayed
here for the first time.

Each is a collector's
item in its own way.

Not because of any
special artistic quality,

but because each
captures on a canvas--

suspends in
time and space--

a frozen moment of a nightmare.

Our initial offering-- a small
gothick item in blacks and grays,

a piece of the past
known as the family crypt.

This one we call simply The Cemetery

Offered to you now--six feet of
earth and all that it contains.

Ladies and gentlemen,
this is the Night Gallery

Anything more you need, Mr. Hendricks?

Then I'll move you to the
window, sir, for a few minutes.

[ Moans]

Oh.

[Brush Clatters To Floor]

[ Murmurs]

Aw.Appetite not so good today.

It never is at lunchtime, sir.

Then why do you load it up that way,
Portfoy? That is wasteful, Portfoy.

Mr. Hendricks doesn't
complain, Mr.Jeremy.

And heal so pays for it.

Tell me something, Portfoy.

During all those 30 years you
have been waiting hand and foot...

on that dying blobo fflesh upstairs,

you didn't know there was a nephew
in the woodwork, did you, Portfoy?

Nor did your uncle, sir.

Well, now you do.

So dwell on it, Portfoy.

Tell me something, Portioy.

When did my uncle...

paint that one?

Just before his last stroke,sir

Hmm. How festive. Yet which
brings to question, Portioy,

not only my uncle's minimal talents:.

but also his somewhat morbid preoccupation
with all things dead and dying.

Tell me something. What did my uncle do
for kicks before his several illnesses?

I mean,with all that money,

what other interests did he
have besides, um, painting?

His painting has been
his only pleasure, sir.

And the house. That's all he'scared for

Oh,yeah. So my dear late
mother used to tell me, Portioy.

She herself died at a relatively
early age from overwork...

and a surplus of pride.

She couldn't bringher self to crawl across
to that rich recluse of a brother of hers.

She had her dignity
to consider, Portfoy.

That was her long
suit--dignity.

As a result, I have spent
a good deal of my life...

acquiring a taste for the good life
but somehow never acquiring the means.

How sad, sir.

Ah, it's only a passing
sadness, Portioy. [Chuckles]

If painting was my
uncle's only indulgence,

I anticipate a much more
carefree existence...

as of the day he stops staring at
this particular point of view...

and becomes a part of it.

Why don't you say what
you're thinking, Portfoy?

I am a scoundrel, am I not?

You're a swine, sir.

[Chuckles]

What refreshing candor.

Well, now you just get that right
out of your system. You hear, Portfoy?

Because as of the day I take over here:.

And you bare those ancient fangs at me,

I'm gonna pull them... one by one.

[Door Closes]

Hmm.

Uncle?

Uncle? I've come to have a
little chat with you. [ Murmurs]

Ah. [Chuckles] [Scoffs]

Now, now, now, now. Don't
you move. No, sirree.

You just sit right there and you
let me handle all the conversation.

Oh,you know, I have had the
most interesting morning.

Oh, I have. I went through all
the correspondence in your desk.

Yeah. Guess what I came across.

Yeah, correspondence.

Letters between you and your lawyer.

Having to do with?

Yes. Having to do with your will.

Oh, Uncle, I tell you, I was really
impressed by your literary style.

Yes, sirree. Cogent,
right-- right to the point.

I mean,you say what you have
to say. I'm veryi mpressed.

And as to the contents, more impressed

I mean, to discover that you had
made my mother your beneficiary--

I tell you now that touched
me, Uncle. I was deeply touched

Now what was the other thing?
Yeah, I know I wrote it down.

I got it right here.

""That should she not believe,

it would go to her sole survivor'"

Oh, now, Uncle.

Now you believe me when I
tell you that,when I read that,

I wept-- I
actually wept.

Oh,what a good heart.
What massive compassion.

It's stuff yin here, isn't it?

Don't you think it's
stuffy in here, Uncle?

Yeah, all right.

[Chuckles]

There. Oh,yeah.

That's better [ Moans]

I wouldn't call for Portfoy, Uncle.

Now, really l wouldn't.

Why disturb that old gentleman? He has been
waiting hand and foot on you for 30 years.

So why don't we just give
him the afternoon off.

Huh. Now,

I have been told by
your medical advisors...

to keep you away from drafts.

It seems that you are susceptible
to colds, perhaps even pneumonia.

Well now let us just put that
medical advice to the test,

shall we?

Let us see just how susceptible you are.

Voila. Isn't that refreshing, Uncle?

[Shudders] Ch, the cold

The wind. Isn't that refreshing?

And think of this, if you will, Uncle.

Your last
view of life--

that family graveyard down there.

Now you remember it well.

Drink it all in, Uncle,
like a new tenant:.

Investigating his new abode.

[Chuckles]

Very well. I shall leave you now...

undisturbed.

And neither Portifoy nor l shall come back
in this room for, let us say, an hour, Uncle.

Or perhaps two--
however long it takes.

However long it takes to, uh,

simplify things.

[Door Cpens, Closes]

[Clock Chiming]

No change.

The doctor says he may remain
in a coma for some time.

Pity.

I'm told you've become
acquainted with, uh,

certain aspects of the will.

Only certain aspects that
were lying around loose...

and unattended in my uncle's desk.

Tell me,who told you of
my comforting discovery?

A little bird.

A little bird in a butler's suit...

who should watch out that he
doesn't get his little beak smashed.

However, Mr. Carson,

seeing that my mother was
the major beneficiary...

and I am her sole survivor,

well, that would mean that
everything would come to me.

The man's not dead yet!

Do you suppose you might stife those great
expectations of yours til lthe body's cold?

[Door Cpens]

Mr. Hendricks has passed on.

He, uh, never regained consciousness.

May l claim my inheritance now?

Would it be too much trouble to first
go through the motions of a funeral...

and a reasonable period of mourning?

Is that a legal requirement, counselor?

Let's say it's just what might
bee xpected of a civilized man...

as an act of respect and appreciation.

Well you see, Mr Carson,

I'm not a civilized man.

I'm a black sheep nephew...

with an itch.

And now, Doctor, if I may impose up on you
to take care of the burial and all that.

Put it on the bill. He'll
be buried in the family plot.

He mentioned that to
me many times. Lovely.

And now, if either one of
you gentlemen should need me,

I will be in there.

Doctor!

Doctor, shouldn't he be covered
or somethin', or his hands folded?

I mean, isn't that part of the
ritual, that he look at peace?

He should be resurrected-- foras long as
it takes to cut you off and boot you out.

That would give him peace.

Never mind Portfoy
We'll show ourselves out.

Would you care to pay your
last respects, Portfoy?

- He's gone, sir?
- Permanently.

Oh, uh, item of interest, Portfoy.

There is a small stipend
mentioned in the will for you.

I believe it's, oh, $80 a month
foras long as you shall live.

Eighty dollars?

Eighty dollars... a month.

I'd like to stay, sir,
with your permission.

Oh, excellent. Crazy.

Well now I'll tell you what, Portfoy

First thing on the agenda will be to
remove the bulk of this grotesquerie and--

Something, sir?

Well, that's odd. Odd, sir?

- Look at this.
- Look at what, sir?

The picture.The painting,
stupid. Look at it.

It's been altered.

I don't understand.

Haven't you got eyes? Can't you
see? Now that has been altered.

It's a freshly dug grave.

I see nothing wrong, sir.

Well, forget it. Just forget it.

Uh--

You may go now. I'd like
my dinner at the usual time.

[Woman Laughing]

[ Both Laughing]

Oh,yeah.

[ Laughing]

[Chuckling, Sighs]

[Whistles]

Well, as I breathe and live,
if it isn't Osmond Portfoy.

Osmonde Portfoy.

If there's nothing else, sir, I
thought I'd lock up and retire.

That is your life, isn't it,
Portfoy-- locking up and retiring.

[Chuckles] You know,

to my dying day, I'm gonna
carry a picture of you...

wallin' through life--
stiff-backed, straight-legged,

carrying a tray and
towels over your arm...

and that reproving look in your eye.

Hey,you know that look,
now, don't you, Portfoy?

How shall I describe it?

Ah,yeah.
Like, uh--

Like a bank manager finding
an incorrect balance.

It-It-It-- It's
changed again.

It's changed again.

Portfoy?

There is a casket in that painting now.

There is a casket in there now!
Now that was not there before.!

[Groans]

What-What is happening'? What
in God's name is happening'?

[Grunts]

[Sighs]

[Chuckles]

[Screaming]

[Whistling]

I brought you some hot tea, sir.

I don't want any hot tea.

Suit yourself, sir.

Portioy. Yes, sir?

Did you look at the
painting like I told ya?

Yes, sir. It's hanging there as usual.

[Shouts] As usual?

[Exhales]

Well, I-I-- I
don't understand.

I burned it. I threw it on the fire.

And I watched it bubble and
crinkle up. I watched it disappear.

And there it is on the wall... as usual.

Imagination, sir.

Imagination?

You burned me. Deliberately.

Oh, no, no, Portfoy.
That was your imagination.

The tray, the teapot,
your scalded wrist--

that's all your imagination.

Isn't that the catch-all explanation to cover
all the phenomena that goes on around here?

I tell you, this is not a haunt.
It's a prolonged hallucination.

Get out of here. If I
want you, I'll call you.

If you call me, Mr.Jeremy

you call long distance.

What are you talking about?

I do not intend to spend
another night in this house.

- No?
- No.

In life, he needed me.

But in death, it's obvious he's
strong enough to take care of himself

Now you look here, old man.
Death is final. Death is it.

I think not, Mr.Jeremy.

I think the reare things stronger than
death and more lasting than the grave.

Portfoy? I think hate is
stronger than death, Mr.Jeremy.

And I thinky ou're
beginning to realize that.

I shall spend the night in the hotel
in town and send formy things later.

But what about me? What
am I supposed to do?

Who's gonna tend to my wants now?

Use your imagination, Mr.Jeremy.
You're rather good at that!

[Door Closes]

Tell me something, Uncle.

Why don't you stay where you belong?

That is as close to a toast as you'll
ever get from me, alive or dead!

[Gate Opens]

[Cate Closes] Portioy?

[ No Audible Dialogue]

Portfoy?

[Stammering] Portfoy!

Portfoy!

Portfoy!

Portfoy!

[Gasps]

Operator,would you put me
through to the hotel in town.

Yeah, I know, I know. But you
see, I don't have the number.

I would be grateful.

Hello? Hello?Would you connect
me with Osmonde Portfoy?

He checked in there this afternoon.

What do you mean you can't
ring his room?You gotta ring--

Well, I don't care if it's 3:00 in the
morning! Now,you-- [ Line Disconnects]

Oh!

[Footsteps Approaching]

[Gasps]

[Footsteps Continue]

[Shudders]

[Footsteps Continue]

[Whimpers]

O-Operator?

My name is Jeremy Evans.
I'm-I'm at the Hendricks house.

And there's an intruder here. Now,would you
call the police and have them come over right--

right away?

No! I tell you, I can hear him outside.

Now,will you please-- please call the police
right now and have them come over right away.

Yeah.Yeah.

[Footsteps Continue]

[Porch Steps Creaking]

[ Doorknob Rattling]

Who--Who
is it?

[Pounding]

Who is there? [Doorknob Rattling]

[Shouting] Who is out there?

[Pounding]

[ Moaning]

[Screaming]

-[Pounding Continues]
- You.!

You don't belong here!
You belong in the ground!

You!You're dead!

You belong in the grave! You're dead!

Hello. Doctor?

This is Portfoy at the Hendricks house.

I'm afraid there's
been an accident, sir.

Yes, sir. Mr.Jeremy seems to
have fallen down the stairs.

I believe he's dead.

It appears his neck has been broken.

Thank you, Doctor.
I'll leave a light on.

[Portifoy Laughing]

So I think a long vacation would
be in order for you, Gibbons.

You have performed your
task... extraordinarily well.

You really have.

Fifteen paintings at $500 apiece.

Cheap at the price, I'd say.

Indeed, indeed.

Thank you.

Should I count it? If
you like. It's all there,

plus 500 extra.

You're no Rembrandt, Gibbons, but
you do have an uncanny knack...

of imitating other people's style.

You can afford it, I take it.

The savings of a lifetime.

But just a temporary inconvenience.

Perhaps I neglected totell you...

Mr. Hendricks was a
most-thoughtful old gentleman.

In his will, he stipulated that if
there were no surviving family...

six months after his demise,

his entire estate would be inherited
by his old family retainer--

yours truly.

Run along now, Gibbons. Enjoy
the fruits of your labors.

What if the nephew
hadn't broken his neck?

What would you have done then?

Put something in his brandy?

Don't be crude, Gibbons.

If, uh, that unfortunate
accident hadn't happened to him,

he would have gone
slowly out of his mind.

And once he was committed,

I would be just where I am now.

Same end,just different means.

Would you... throw this
in a ditch some place?

The trappings of death depress me.

From now on, this is going
to be a place of cheer.

Well, good night, Gibbons.

Good night,
Portfoy. Uh--

Mr. Portfoy.

Mr. Portfoy.

[Chuckling]

[Sighs]

Rest easy Mr Hendricks.

Rest easy.

Back,Jeremy.

Back,Jeremy Back,Jeremy

Back,Jeremy Back,Jeremy

Back into the ground where you belong!

[Shouts] Back.!Back,Jeremy Back,Jeremy

Back. Back.!

Back,Jeremy. [ Murmuring, Indistinct]

Back.!

Back,Jeremy

[Shuddering]

[Screaming]

Objet d'art number two.

A portrait. Its subject--
Miss Claudia Menloo.

A blind queen who reigns in a
carpeted penthouse on Fifth Avenue.

An imperious, predatory dowager...

who will soon find a darkness
blacker than blindness.

This is her story.

[Flevator Bell Dings]

Oops. I'm sorry. You're
looking for Miss Menloo?

Mm-hmm. Penthouse.You can't miss her.
She's the only one in the building.

Yes, I know. You know her?

I've been her doctor for years.

Say that's a very good likeness.

Not really, Doctor. There was
one thing I couldn't capture.

What's that? Her cruelty.

Well, Miss Menloo has
been blind from birth.

-Cause and effect,
huh? - Mm-hmm.

I'll tell you, Doctor. I was
commissioned to do this a month ago.

One final application of
lacquer and l am finished.

I used to wonder what kind of woman built
an apartment house on Fifth Avenue...

and then installed
herself as the only tenant.

Well, I'll tell you what
kind of a woman it is, Doctor.

A tiny, fragile little
monster-- that kind of woman!

Afternoon.

Hello, Dr. Heathertonn. Miss Menloo's
expecting you. Can I take your coat?

That's all right.Thanks.

[Woman] How deliciously
prompt you are, Doctor

You're only an hour late. I saw your painting:
I think the artist has done you justice.

If he has, Dr. Heathertone,

he's the only one in the 54-year
history of my sojourn on earth.

No one has ever done me justice,

beginning with God.

I'm sorry to be late. I've
been in surgery most of the day.

I'm impressed.

I alway sam with you. You're
constantly and eternally:

the gentle healer

[Chuckles] Now then,what
are we to talk about?

What we've already talked
about on the telephone.

Well, as I've already
told you, Miss Menloo,

the surgical procedure you questioned
me about has been tried only on animals.

-Successfully.
-A chimpanzee and a dog.

Both subjects had optic nerves regrafteed from
donors whose visual organs were unimpaired.

In both cases, they
were able to see--

one for a few moments, the
other for a period of hours.

The donors, of course, were
rendered permanently sightless.

So,you see, Miss Menloo, this is nothing
more than a breakthrough, a beginning.

If it can work on animals, it
can also work on human beings.

One doesn't have to be a
high-priced Fifth Avenue surgeon...

to make this altogether
reasonable assumption.

High-priced or otherwise, Miss Menloo, no
surgeon would ever make such an assumption.

Nor would he put it to a test. You
must understand something, Miss Menloo.

In the first place, the
best you could expect--

assuming the transplanting of the
central optic nerve was successful--

would be roughly 11 to 13
hours of sight, no more.

Then you'd be blind again.

And then of course there's that
other insurmountable obstacle.

What is the insurmountable obstacle?

To put it simply, Miss
Menloo, you need a donor,

someone who'd be willing to part with
his sight for the rest of his life...

to give you roughly 12 hours of it.

I don't believe there's
such a person around.

Nonsense, Doctor! Everyone has a price.

For their eyes? I seriously doubt that.

Well, that's where you're wrong.

My lawyer has found
such a person for me.

He represented him in a
criminal case sometime ago.

The man needs the money desperately.

He's agreed to become the
donor and part with his eyes...

fora sum of cash. How much cash?

$9,000. That's what the individual
required. That's what I'm paying.

Miss Menloo, listen
to me very carefully.

There are four men who could conceivably
perform the operation you're talking about.

I'm one of the four but l can
speak for the others as well

I would no more remove the
eyesight of an other human being...

so that you might enjoy a few hours of
sight than I would deliberately kill a child.

Is that clear to you?

I want you to read
something, Dr. Heathertone.

In this envelope, I
have a complete file...

on one Dr. Frank Heathertone.

The impeccable Dr. Heathertone.

The respectable Dr. Heathertone.

Go ahead. Read it.

I told you all men had a price.

That's becaus eall men
have something to hide.

And you, Doctor

you have more than most.

All there, I believe.

Do you recall the young woman?

Miss Grace Reardone, age 22,

who died on a kitchen table
because the abortionist...

had the hygienic habits of a pig
and the surgical deftness of a--

of a paperhanger.

She made the trip to that
butcher at the behest of you--

that rigidly moral,
antiseptically pure physician who--

who might on occasion, as
he did on this occasion,

reveal a slightly gamier
side to his character.

The release of this information:.

Would not enhance either
your professional standing...

or your marriage.

Would it, Doctor?

No. No, it would quite obviously
destroy me as a physician...

and it would wreck a
25-year-old marriage.

If that's what you've set
out to do, Miss Menloo,

you've got all the proper ammunition.

As must be obvious over your
many protracted loyal years:.

Of hand-holding with this
dull, imperious woman,

I have no interest in
helping or hurting anyone.

I couldn't care less about your
extracurricular activities...

or myl awyer's off-Wall
Street productions...

or anything else that
doesn't involve me.

My abiding concern, Doctor, and
my singular preoccupation is...

myself.

Fleven hours or 12-- fewer or
more--it makes no difference.

I want to see
something--

trees, concrete, buildings,

grass, airplanes, color!

The idle rich.

A little something to ease the boredom.

Like scrounging around in the
dirt, like a dog looking for a bone,

and finally unearthing whatever it
is that a man must keep secret...

to guarantee his survival.

All right, Miss Menloo.

Why? I don't know, but I
put a premium on my survival.

I'll perform the operation.
The donor,who is he?

I'll have my lawyer contact
you and give you his name.

He's an inconsequential little hoodlum.

You can arrange with Packer as
to where it will all take place.

Because I want it to take place as quickly
as possible. Is that clear to you, Doctor?

What's clear to me, Miss Menloo,
is that you're to be satisfied--

for a whim, a fancy a few
sweeps of some clock hands.

While you indulge yourself, a man
will deliver up his eyes, thanks to me.

I just hope
the poor--

realizes how much he sold for so little.

[Door Cpens]

[Door Closes] [Man] Lou,
don't play games with me.

My stomach's coming
up through my throat.

[Lou] Hey maybe you'll luck out
and choke on it, huh, Sidney?

Please. Will you have a heart?

I'm dizzy I'm telling you,
this thing makes me sick.

Hey this makes you sick? Well you
don't know the meaning of the word

I'll tell you about ""sick," Sidney.

You owe 9,000 bucks and
you've owed it for too long.

That's sick, baby.
That's terminal,you know?

Lou, I'm-- I'm gonna get
the 9,000 bucks tomorrow.

I'm gonna be some kind of
a guinea pig for a doctor.

I'm gonna have a-- have
an operation of some kind.

I'm gonna get the whole
9,000 bucks for you.

You don't stop, do ya,
Sidney? On my father's grave.

The truth-- nothing
but the truth.

I'll give you this. You
got some imagination.

[ Laughs] It's to laugh, huh?

What kind of operation?

I'm not allowed to say.

Ahh. I swear to God, Lou, that's it!

It's an operation, and I'm not
allowed to say anything about it.

[Chuckles] It's illegal or something.

But I swear, that's the goods.

I'm supposed to have a meeting
about it tomorrow afternoon...

with a lawyer and a doctor.

And then tomorrow night, I'm supposed
to check into a private hospital.

And I get my money when?

As soon as they give it to me.

Anytime after 3:00.
You come to my place.

I'll have it for you.

All right, Sidney.

I'll be in your room tomorrow afternoon.

If the 9,000 isn't there with you,
you get 15 seconds to say your prayers.

It's been nice having
this little chat with you.

Well,what do you think,
Doctor? Will he pass?

Yeah, I think so. I'll have to do some more
extensive tests at the hospital, but I think he'll do.

After all,we're not asking too much of
him. Just his damned eyes, that's all.

She's got you too,
huh? That's her style.

She knows precisely what
wheels to put in motion,

this fragile bird-like little thing.

The threat to destroy,
passed down through channels--

you do it to him, or
l'll do it to you--

till it reaches the bottom echelon.

Then there emerges one
poor hapless soul...

who can find no one lower or
more vulnerable than he is,

and this is the one who is destroyed.

Mr. Resnicke, a little
something for you to sign here.

Oh. [Chuckles]

Hey, it's to laugh. I
swear, it's to laugh.

You gotta be a Philadelphia
lawyer to read this thing.

On the bottom line, Mr. Resnicke,
just above the word ""donor."

Hey,just
for kicks--

really,just for kicks,

what am I givin'' and
what are you gettin''? Huh?

Well, Mr. Resnicke, you
are donating youre yes--

specifically, the central optic nerve.

Now, I could give it to you medically.

I could talk about the nerve fibers
or the axons of the ganglion cells--

I believe it. I believe it.

[Chuckles] I got no choice.

No choice.

Here,you take the eyes.
Outside, they take the body.

[Packer Sighing] Here
you are, Mr Resnicke.

Yeah.

Mysone the donor, huh?

Sidney...

the sight giver.

So,what's left to
see, huh? Mr. Resnicke.

Mm.

I seen everything there is.

I seen the second Louis-Schmeling
fight, and oh, I won a bundle.

I seen the Kentucky Derby three times.

And I seen the home run that Bobby
Thomson hit that killed the Dodgers.

Oh, I seen everything, man. Everything.

But, uh, the
thing of it is--

May l? Yes, of course.

The thing
of it is--

What's it gonna be like when
it's midnigh tall the time...

and nobody's paid the
electric bill, huh?

So-So, what do l do?

White cane, tin cup, pencils?

So, what's to do?

Grieve a little maybe.

Plenty of time for
that. Oh! Plenty of time.

I'll still be able to
cry out of'em,won't I?

To your heart's content, Mr. Resnicke.

To my heart's content. Oh,
Doc, baby,you do turn a phrase.

I swear,you turn a phrase.
Here's your money, Mr. Resnicke--

with an extra 500 thrown in by the doctor
and myself-- and the address of the hospital.

You're to be there at,
uh, 7:00 this evening.

It's got a nice heft to it.

I,
uh--

I hope I don't meet a bookie on the way.

I-I'm a sucker for a game of chance.

Honest. It's a fact. Anything at all.

For example,gentlemen,
I'l llay you 5-to-I:.

That 24 hours after you make me blind,

I'm gonna want to cut my throat.

And l'll lay you even money I do it.

[Door Closes]

[Menloo's Voice] When l see,
I shall drink up Central Park.

I shall let it pour through
my eyes untilit foods my brain.

I shall maintain a reservoir of things
that-- that l've seen during that brief time:.

To remember for the rest of my life.

[Resnicke's Voice] So,
what's to do, huh? Nothin;

That's the story of
simple Sidney's life.

Hey put it on the tombstone,
will you, fellas, huh?

"'Here lies Resnick.

"'He wanted Miami Beach
and a 50-cent cigar

and that's all he really wanted'"

So, learn the lesson, huh?

This is what you get for cheap tastes.

You get your eyes cut out.

[Music Box]

[Heathertone] Miss Menlo, the
anointed hour can be any moment now

as l told you, any time after 5..00.

But may l make a few suggestions?

Remove the bandages very gradually.

I'd keep my eyes closed, if I
were you, throughout the process.

Also, I'd keep the room dark.

The introduction of light should
come in stages, in degrees.

It's sort of like becoming
used to an artificial limb.

It may--may take time
for the eyes to focus,

to accept light.

Perhaps hours.

What's the matter Doctor?
Looking at my gallery are you?

[Chuckles] You've got it all
planned, haven't you, Miss Menloo?

Indeed.All the paintings
and all the statues--

they're right there
where I can see them,

and so is the rest of
the evening and the night.

My eyes will take
pictures, Doctor--

pictures of everything to be
filed for future reference.

A rather long
future reference--

what ever is the length of my life.

And now, if there's
nothing else, Doctor?

Miss Menloo,

I hope you enjoy the next 11, 12 hours.

I hope:.

That your eyes will see what
ever is important to see.

I hope that my efforts
have made it possible.

For both our sakes, I hope they have.

- I'll say good evening
then. -Say good-bye, Doctor.

-We'll not be seeing one another again.
- How sad.

How revealing: I'm to be discarded then.

The used lightbullbs
of Miss Menloo's life--

when they cease lighting
her way-- out they go.

Of course. Doctor.

Flick on the light switch if
you will, the one in the hall.

Of course.

Perhaps if you're around
town this evening, Doctor,

you might introduce yourself

It occurs to me that
I've never seen your face.

[Scoffs] Oh,you can't
miss me, Miss Menloo.

I'll be the tall man with the sick eyes,

the one with the ache in his gut,

the infection in his conscience
so miserably incurable.

You can't miss me, Miss Menloo.

[Door Cpens, Closes]

[Thinking] Thank you.
Thank you, Heathertone.

No.!

No.! [Whimpers]

Ch, Cod no.!

Heathertone!

[Screaming] Heathertone!

You witch doctor! You quack!

-You charlatan! Butcher!
-[Cbjects Crashing]

[Phone Jangles]

[Cbject Clatters] Heathertone!

I'll destroy you!

Heathertone! I want you! You
come back here! [Cbject Clatters]

[ Pounds] Elevator!

[ Pounding]

Heathertone! [ Footsteps Echoing]

[Whimpering] [Thinking]
Heathertone, please come back.

[Continues Thinking]
It-- It didn't work.

[Crying] It just didn't work.

[Thinking] Everything's dark again.

Heathertone, please.

[Door Opens] [Vehicle Horns Honking]

[People Shouting; Indistinct]
[Menloo] Who's there?

[Street Noise, Shouting Continue]

Somebody's there. [Honking Continues]

Can anybody see me? I
need help! [Clattering]

[Crying] Heathertone. Please.

[Street Noise, Shouting
Continues] [Honking Continues]

[Honking]

[People Shouting, Indistinct]

Hey, Officer,what's goin''
on? What's happening?

Blackout. No power, no nothin'.
Where you headin'', mister?

Uh, home-- Westport,,
Connecticut.

Lots'a luck.

Goon over to Columbus Circle and
see if you can take 79th Street out.

But get out of the city if you can.

- How long is it gonna last?
-Ask the mayor.

Come on, get movin''.

[People Shouting;
Indistinct] [Horns Honking]

[Thinking] I can see.

That's the sun l'm seeing:

And sun is-- It's
a golden yellow.

That's color

Ch, Cod it's beautiful!

It's going away.

No.

No,wait.
Not-- Not yet.

[Clock Chiming]

Eleven
hours--

all gone, all finished

That's not fair!

It's simply not fair!

I'm not ready Comeback.

I won't let you go.

Please come back.

I want it! I want the sun!

[Screams] [Music Box]

[Music Box Continues]

[Music Box Fading]

And now the final painting.

The last of our exhibit has
to do with one Josef Strobe,

a Nazi war criminal
hiding in South America--

a monster who wanted to be a fisherman.

This is his story.

[Man's Voice, Speaking Cerman]

[Voice Continues, Echoing]

[Siren Wailing]

[Man's Voice Continues]
[Jack boots Marching]

[Man Shouting] [Cbject Clattering]

[Shouts Command] Halt.!

[People Crying; Screaming]

- [ Fan Clattering]
-[Crying; Screaming Continue]

[Man Shouts Commands] [Machine Cun Fire]

[Clattering] [Machine
Gun Fire Continues]

[Gunfire Stops] [Fan Clatters To A Stop]

[Water Dripping]

[Dripping Reverberates] [Crowd
Shouting] Heill!Heill!Heill!

Heill!Heill!Heill!

Heill!Heill!Heill!

[Man, Woman Laughing
Drunkenly In Corridor]

[Laughing Continues]

[Man Speaking Foreign Language]
[Woman Humming Boisterously]

[Woman] Ole.!

[Both Laughing; Talking Loudly]

[Coughing]

[Continues Coughing]

[Laughter Loud Talking Continue]

[Boisterous Singing]

[ Both Laughing] What
is this, a bus station?

Oh, go back to sleep, old man,

or l'll put you there.

Bravo.

Next time, less noise
please. [Clapping] Bravo!

You are so persuasive, Herr Strobe.

My proximity to a noisy
tramp makes that imperative.

But if someone were
to cut off your fists,

how would you ever prove a point?

[Gasps] You must learn to live
with a little pain, my dear.

[Whimpers] It's what
the world is made of.

Hmm? So get used to it. [Swallows]

[Soft Gasp] I am quite used to it.

It is the nature of my business.

It's what gets deducted from my body.

But, uh, weall of us suffer a few
deductions along the way don't we?

Instead of, uh,

a few thousand a day in the gas chamber,

Now--Oh, now
it is, uh--

It must bean occasional
drunk in a sailor suit.

Ora lady of commerce
who speaks my language.

That is an accident
of birth, Herr Strobe.

The language, that is
all we have in common.

So?

Good night, Herr Strobe.

Go in to your room...

and have one of your
frequent nightmares.

When I hear all that fear
coming through the wall,

[Sighs] it is a lullaby.

[Man] Gruppenfuhrerr Herme
Arndt. Alias Josef Strobe.

Last known whereabouts--
Caracas,Venezuela.

Known to have left the
country April, 1961.

[ Exhales] Assumed present
whereabouts-- Buenos Aires.

Is there anything on him here?

Usual thing-- seen
here, seen there.

Supposed to have been
working in a steel mill.

I checked them all
out. Nothing connected.

I checked out beer gardens,
German social groups--everything.

Nobody remotely resembling him.

Avrame, he is here.

This time, I goon my instincts.

He could have had plastic surgery,

wear a beard or a mustache...

or a black homburg hat...
and sell securities.

He's here,

and we will find him.

[ Engine Starts]

[ Engine Revving]

[Horn Honks]

-[Horn Honking]
- [Tires Screeching]

[ No Audible Dialogue]

[ Man,Woman Speaking Spanish]

[Man On PA., Speaking Spanish]

Nightmare. Huh?

He has captured a nightmare.

I saw such a thing. I was there.

My friend,Jacob Sternbach--
they crucified him that way.

It took him two days to die.

Forgive me. I was
affected by the picture.

It brings back certain--
certain memories.

Ihope l haven't disturbed you.

Excuse me. Yes?

I've--

That is,we've met before, haven't we?

I think not. I've
only just arrived here.

You're German, aren't you?

No. Hungarian.

You look-- You
look familiar.

You were never in a camp, were you?

Auschwitz or: Oranienburg:

I was at both places.

My name is Bleume.

I told you I am not German.

Excuse me.

[Man On PA., Speaking Spanish]

[Man On PA. Continues]

[Woman's Voice, Singing ln Cerman]

Senor, the museum is closed.

Kindly leave the building, please.

Senor Kindly leave the building:

Please.

[Bell Tolling Hours]

[Woman's Voice, Singing ln Cerman]

[Bottle Clatters To Floor]

Nightmares again, Herr Strobe?

-Go to hell, my dear.
- [ Laughing]

I hear you've become quite an art lover.

My girlfriend told me that she
saw you this morning in the museum.

[ Knocking]

What disturbs you tonight?

Gretchen.

Talk to me fora moment.

What do you want to talk about?

Something happened last
night... and again today.

What? I was looking
at a picture--

picture of a:. fisherman:.
on a mountain lake.

And after a while,
it seemed as if--

As if what?

As if it were me in that boat...

just fishing:

No pain.

No running away. No...

looking over my shoulder.

What do you expect to see?

Ghosts.

Israeli ghosts.

They have a list, it appears.

[Sighs] They have a list.

And, after Eichmann,

it is you who are on the top
of that list, Herr Strobe?

Very likely.

What would they do with you?

[Sighs]

-So.
- [ Exhales] What do I ask of anyone?

So much is it to stop running;

to stop trying to
find shadows to hidein?

[Breath Quavers]

Where is this compassionate
and forgiving God they talk of?

Let him show himself to me now

Let him give me a chance to survive.

Only that--just
\survive.

Like on that boat...

and that lake.

[ Exhales]

-Gretchen.
-Ja..Ja..

You know, if I had...

concentrated...with all my might,

if I had exerted all my will,

I could have moved into that picture.

You surprise me, Herr Strobe.

Who would have thought...

that all you hunger for is a rowboat?

Yes.

[Voice Quavers] That's all.

You black-uniformed gods...

who put barbed wire around the Earth...

and all you want is a rowboat!

[ Laughing]

You know something, Herr Strobe,

your tastes are really quite expensive.

You yearn
for the most--

the most expensive and
unobtainable things--

peace and immortality.

Forget it, Herr Strobe.

The price is a soul and a
conscience, and you have neither!

Go to
hell,you--

[ Murmurs]

After you, Herr Strobe.

[Laughing]

[Laughing Louder]

Good afternoon.

Rather taken with it, aren't you?

It has a quality.

And the concentration
camp picture--

that has no quality, Herr Arndt?

I beg your pardon?

I think you've made a mistake.

My name is Strobe.

Josef Strobe. You
called me something else.

Forgive me. I guess I did.

You reminded me of someone,

a certain Herme Arndt.

Herr Arndt was not an admirer of Jews.

He would stand by the
front gate at Auschswitz.

With a riding crop in his hand,

he would indicate which of
the incoming people would die:.

And which would temporarily stay alive.

And how were you so
fortunate, Herr Bleume?

A concentration camp can be a
university of higher learning...

when it comes to teaching
a man to stay alive.

Good day to you, Herr Strobe.

[Footsteps Slowly Receding]

[Woman's Voice, Singingln Cerman]

[Singing Continues]

[Singing Continues]

[Man On PA., Speaking Spanish]

[Man On PA. Continues]

[Thunder Rumbles]

[Lightning Crashes, Thunder Continues]

dd[Singing In Spanish]
[People Chattering]

Ay ay ay ay

dCanta y no lloressd

Porque cantando se alegran

Cielito lindo los corazones

dAy, ay, ay, ayd

Canta y no llores

d Porque cantando se alegrand

dCiellito llindo loss corazonessd

dAy, ay, ay, ayd

Canta y no llores

Porque cantando se alegran

dCiellito llindo loss corazonessd

dAy, ay, ay, ayd

dCanta y no lloressd
dd[Singing, Indistinct]

d Porque cantando se
alegrand d Uber allesd

[Singingln Spanish Continues]
d Uber alles in der Weltd

Wenn es stets zu Schutz und Trutze

Bruderlich zusammenhalt

dVon derr Mas bis an die Memell d

dVon derr Etschs bis an den Beltd

-Deutschlandd Deutschland uber alles
- [Shouting In Spanish]

[ People Shouting, Indistinct]
Uber alles in der Welt

Deutschlandd Deutschlandd uber alles

-Uber alles--
- [Screams]

[People Chattering]

[Stick Raps] Deutschlandd Deutschlandd

Uber alles

Uber alles in der Welt

[Continues Rapping Stick] dWennn
es stets zuu Schutzz und Trutzed

[Thunder Lightning]
Vonder Ftschbisanden Belt

Deutschlandd
Deutschlandd--

Uber alles. [Sighs]

Wie geht es lhnen, Gruppenfuhrer?

Cut, dankee.

Und lhnen?

I knew who you were.

One doesn't forget a
man like you very easily.

I'm touched.

Well, shall we have
a drink, Herr Bleume,

or shall we talk
of old times or--

What shall we do, hmm?

What would please you?

Tell me and see if I
can't accommodate you.

Tell me, Herr Bleume,

have I changed much?

No. No, Gruppenfuhrer

You've changed very little.

[Lightning Crashes]

Excellent.

Excellent, Herr Bleume.

The memory is still intact. Hmm?

The, uh, body is somewhat...
the worse for wear, hmm?

The body has had much done to it.

This was done to me
with a lit cigarette...

during an otherwise dull afternoon.

Your kind of sport, Gruppenfuhrer

something you would understand.

Tell me, Herr Bleume,

have
you, uh--

Are you content to
reminisce about these things?

-Or have you seen
fit to-- -Tell others?

What do you think?

I think, Herr Bleume,

that if you have something
to say to the god of lsrael,

-[Stick Clatters]
- now is the time.

I've made
my peace--

something you shall never
be able to do, Gruppenfuhrer

You have put too many
Christs on crosses...

for any god to give you an audience.

Still the martyr, huh? No. I am simply:

[Gasping] the six millionth plus one.

[Voices Singingln Hebrew.Mourning]

[Woman On PA., Speaking Spanish]

[Woman On PA. Continues]

[Man Speaking Spanish]

De nada.

[ Raps] What time is the next bus?

The next bus to where?
Where would you like to go?

Just--Just anywhere.
Out of the city--

as far as this will take me.

Well, uh, that will take
you to Mar Del Pllata.

Lucky for you it stopped raining.
You have kind of a long wait.

After 20 years, it's not so long.

Excuse me. I believe we
have a mutual acquaintance.

Do you know a man named Bleume?

Listen to me. I don't
care what Bleume told you.

He's-He's mad. He's out
of his mind. Let's go.

Listen--
Listen to me.

I'm not the one you want.

There are others, big ones.

There's-There's Borman. Martin
Borman-- he's still alive.

Believe me, he's-he's still alive.

And Muller. Heinrich Muller
is still alive in Silesia.

Listen to me. I know these men.
I can find these men for you.

Please.There must be a price, huh?

There's some price. Any price!

[Voices Singingln Hebrew]

[Men Conversing ln Spanish]

[Man# 3] Estupidoss! Don't
let those paintings get wet.

You were hired to put them in the
truck, so put them in the truck.!

[Men Muttering] All right, all right.!

No wonder we have no
culture in this country

Sure,sure. Get a uniform,
and right away you are a king:

Nobody cares for paintings.
All right.We take them in.

Be sure and dry them when
you get them in the truck.

Now get moving:! Get
moving:! All right, all right.

Come on, come on. Hurry up.
It's getting late. All right.

And be careful when you set
them down. Please.!Please.!

-[Statue Clatters]
- [ Door Creaks]

Who is in there?

Who is in there?

[Man] Shalom, Gruppenfuhrerr. Shalom.

[ Both Grunting, Straining]

Please. If there is a God,
let him show himself now.

Get me into the picture.

I must get into the picture.

[Woman's Voice, Singingln Cerman]

Please. Please.

God,
Christ--anyone.

Get me into the picture!

I must get into the picture.

[Gasps]

[Screams]

[Speaking Spanish]

At this hour?

[Howling; Faint]

What's the matter? What do you hear now?

Don't you hear it? [Howling Continues]

A dog or something. It
must have been run over.

Everything seems intact.

Maybe there was someone here,
but they're not here now.

What happened to The Fisherman?

Was that one of the loaners? Yes,
sir. It was taken a way tonight.

The director had that concentration
camp thing putt here in its place.

Hateful-looking thing.

Luizz. Luizz.

[Howling; Faint]

Good evening.

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