All language subtitles for Another.Woman.1988.iNTERNAL.BDRip.x264-LiBRARiANS

If someone had asked me,
when I reached my 50s, to assess my life,

I would've said that I had achieved
a decent measure of fulfillment,

both personally and professionally.

Beyond that, I would say
I don't choose to delve.

Not that I was afraid of uncovering
some dark side of my character.

But I always feel, if something
seems to be working, leave it alone.

My name is Marion Post.

I'm Director of Undergraduate Studies in
philosophy at a very fine women's college,

although right now, I'm on leave
of absence to begin writing a book.

My husband is a very accomplished
physician, a cardiologist,

who some years ago examined my heart,
liked what he saw and proposed.

It's the second marriage
for both of us,

and he brought
to it a 16-year-old daughter

who lives with his former wife,
but visits us frequently.

She's a sweet girl who can be
a little undisciplined at times,

and I've tried to take her
under my wing as best I can.

I also have a married brother.

My mother died recently,
but my dad's still alive and healthy.

Not much else to say,
except normally I write at home,

but construction noise next door
has become so terrible,

I subleased a one-room flat
downtown as an office.

A new book is always
a very demanding project

and it requires that I really shut
myself off from everything but the work.

As I settled down to work that first
morning, a strange thing occurred.

I don't know.

Something about him just got
to a deeper thing in me. It's...

So, this was my big experience
with another man. My first one.

And I've never been able to get it out
of my mind. I still have fantasies about it,

which are sort of bugging me.

What do you mean, fantasies?

Well, sometimes when I'm masturbating,
or when I'm just...

Well, sometimes when I'm...
when I'm working,

I find myself thinking about Giles.

And it's not that
I'm not attracted to my wife anymore.

I mean, I still am. I really am physically
moved by her, and other women too, but...

While I'll admit
that eavesdropping

on the intimate revelations
of a psychiatrist's office

might be fascinating to some people,
it was not exactly what I had in mind

when I rented the place.

Well...

I don't really have to use him
like a piece of pornography...

I worked hard all day,
and the work came very slowly.

Beginning a book is always
the most difficult part for me,

and by late afternoon
I'd become tired.

I lay my head down and closed
my eyes, and I guess I dozed off

I don't know
exactly how long I was asleep,

but one of the pillows must
have slipped down off the vent,

because I gradually became
aware again of a voice.

It was a woman's voice, and it was such
an anguished, heart-wrenching sound

that I was totally
arrested by its sadness.

I just know that

I woke up
during the middle of the night.

And time passed,
and there were strange shadows.

I began having
troubling thoughts about my life.

Like there was
something about it not real.

Full of deceptions.

But these deceptions
had become so...

so many, and
so much a part of me now,

that I couldn't even tell
who I really was.

And suddenly I began to perspire.

I sat up in bed with my heart
just pounding.

And I looked at my husband next to me,

and it was as if he was a stranger.

And I turned on the light
and I woke him up,

and I asked him to hold me.

And only after a long time
did I finally get my bearings.

But for one moment, earlier,

it was as if a curtain had parted,

and I could see myself clearly.

But I was afraid of what I saw.

And what I had to look forward to.

And I wondered...

I wondered about ending everything.

Please, please.

It is with a mixture of some joy,
but mostly paralyzing anxiety,

I hereby plunge into the big five-o.

I was fine till last week.

Then my son said to me, gee, Dad,
don't your options begin running out?

He's very funny, my son.

Marion, I was telling Lydia
about your little adventure today.

Oh, yes.

Those new buildings are built so thin.
You can hear everything...

- No, this is an old brownstone.
- Well, there's no privacy left.

Last week Lydia and I were at home.
It was a Sunday morning.

Mark.

This is true.
And we started kissing each other...

and the next thing you know,
we were on the floor...

- Are you crazy?
- and I was having her...

- You know, he's drunk. Look at him.
- on the kitchen floor.

The living room floor,
the living room floor.

- I gotta admit, it was a surprise.
- Did it not happen that way?

So the door opens,
and the superintendent,

he has the key...

Oh, no.

- Stop it.
- barges in, some kind of plumbing leak.

And we are in flagrante delicto.

Do you know what this one does?

He gets up, stark naked,
and says, Mr. Banducci,

this is not the pipe that needs fixing.

That was quick, Ken.
That was very quick.

Could you have come up
with anything that quick, Ken?

- No.
- That was grace under pressure.

- Did he laugh?
- Oh, no.

He turned very red
and he crossed himself.

Sad.

One good thing about becoming 50.

You don't have to do it again.

I know.

It's Laura. She...
She's had another fight with her mother,

wants to sleep at our place again.

It's not fair to Kathy.

Well, you tell her, because once again,
I can't get through to my daughter.

I know. Just hold on a minute.

Will you talk to Marion? Okay.

Laura? This is not
a good habit to get into.

You know your mother's high-strung.
She's just gonna get frantic.

Well, it may not seem fair to you,

but it's up to you to deal
with her moods.

Well, if she can't,
then you just have to rise above it.

Okay?

I'll see you at my father's tomorrow.

We'll talk about it then. Okay.

Bye-bye.

See, she listens to you
because she looks up to you.

Me, there's no communication.

It's just...
It's a terrible situation.

Hey.

Take you back?

God, yeah.

Would you ever think of making love
to me on the living room floor?

Would you want me to?

I don't know. Would you want to?

I don't know.

Actually, I don't think I see you
as the hardwood floor type.

No?

Hey, Ken, what are you doing in there?
Have you eaten?

- Hello.
- Hello, Lydia.

Look, you know my wife pretty good.

Would you say that she was the type
to enjoy sex on the living room floor?

- Oh, Ken!
- Oh, my God. You know, you guys...

- I'm only teasing.
- That was really embarrassing before.

But not unpleasant
if you don't get splinters.

The following morning,
I had agreed to meet with my sister-in-law

who wanted to see me.

I waited for her as long as I could,

but when she didn't show up,
I decided to leave.

- Marion, I'm sorry.
- Oh, Lynn.

- I got stuck in traffic.
- Oh, yeah.

The thing is, I'm really late now.

- Sorry. I just need a few minutes.
- Well, I'm so behind schedule.

You said 8:00, and I waited,
but I really gotta get going.

- Stupid bus wouldn't move.
- You know, maybe some other time.

I've just gotta be disciplined
when I'm writing, Lynn,

otherwise I'm not gonna
get it done in time.

I need to borrow some money.

You know,
Paul and I are getting a divorce.

I heard. I'm sorry.

Are you?

Why do you say it like that?

Because I know,
you never really approved of me.

Why, I hardly know you.

It's not from my lack of trying.

Oh, look, I know this must all be very
upsetting to you. But, you know...

I'm sorry.

If you needed money,
how come Paul didn't ask me?

Well, he wouldn't.

Well, why not? He has before.

Marion, don't you know
how he feels about you?

Sure. We've always been very close.

You're deluding yourself.

Of course, in a way,
he idolizes you, but he...

He also hates you.

I'm sorry, I don't accept that.

You're such a perceptive woman.

How can you not understand
his feelings?

Look, I'm late, and, and...

to tell you the truth,

I just make it a practice of never
getting into these kinds of conversations.

You know, they're fruitless, and people just
say things that they're sorry for later.

Why don't you just tell me
how much you need

and I'll discuss it with Ken, okay?

The encounter with my sister-in-law
had left me a little angry,

but I refused
to let it interfere with my work.

I had a reasonably productive day,
but as late afternoon approached

I began to feel anxious somehow.

I really can't believe
I'm saying this.

Lately, I've had odd feelings
about my marriage.

It's as if it's been coming apart.

And I've just been, in so many ways,
denying it.

I must admit,

I have moments when I question
whether I made the right choice.

I've told you
there was someone else once.

The last time I saw him
was several years ago,

before I was married, at a party.

Stop it. No. Just stop it.
This is just crazy.

I'm marrying Ken and that's all
there is to it.

How can you marry Ken?
You love me.

I... What? You're so conceited.

What makes you think
that I love you?

I know. There are some things
one knows just so surely as...

Well, I'm... It's...

You're wrong,
and I'm sorry if I've misled you.

It's you you're misleading.

Look, I'm surprised at you.

I mean, Ken is your close friend.

I love everything about you,
and I want you

- to come and live with me...
- Oh, stop it. Just stop. Stop it.

Stop it! Stop it. Right now.

Marion? We're toasting!

Just go away.

To Ken and Marion
on their big day next week.

Hear, hear.

And to Marion's new book.

German philosophy
will never be the same.

Let's hope not.

You'll go on forever.
Heidegger definitely got what he deserved.

Hey, I'd like to propose a toast.

- To good health and happiness.
- Cheers.

Aren't you gonna drink to Marion?

Yes, why not?

I drink to Marion with my eyes.

Smoothie, old smoothie.

I was just returning some things.

You could stop staring.

I'm not a ghost.

We did spend a few years together,
had a child together, in this house.

I wish you'd called.

I'm not staying.

Although some of these people
used to be my friends too.

- Would you like a drink?
- Kitty...

Don't panic, I'm not accepting.

These are artifacts from
more civilized days between us.

I think perhaps you
should just leave them and go.

Which one's Marion?

I am.

Kathy, this is
in terrible taste, you know.

Oh, my ex-husband
is an authority on taste!

Now what does Emily Post say about
adultery with a philosophy professor

in a Holiday Inn while his wife
is in the hospital

having her ovaries removed?

Okay, that's enough.
Now please leave.

I realize that you've been hurt,

and if I've done anything wrong,
I am sorry.

Forgive me.
I accept your condemnation.

I'm so sorry.

What can I say
to change your heart?

I'm really amazed at you.

He's your friend. He's just...

He's just had
an embarrassing experience.

Yes, he is my friend.
And I love him.

But he's a prig.
He's cold and he's stuffy.

Can't you see that?

I accept your condemnation.
Jesus!

He handled a very difficult moment
quite well.

Or too well. Do you like that?

He's a snob.

He's a wonderful man.

And he's a terrific doctor.

He's cultured and he's honorable.

And I love to be with him. I...

- I love reading books with him, and...
- It's all up here. All up here.

And he's sexy.

Adultery in the Holiday Inn?
Did they take a credit card?

He would never try to
undermine you.

Even if he loved a woman
passionately?

Maybe we should join the others.

Maybe I was wrong about you.

Maybe you're two of a kind.

Maybe you've had too much
champagne.

Maybe this conversation
is scaring you.

I have to go.

Why don't you do that?

I often wonder about real love.

Or should I say,
I keep myself from thinking about it.

I don't mean the kind I've experienced.
You know, it's something much...

Much deeper, much more intense.
And then I become frightened.

Because I feel too much...

- Hi, how are you?
- Oh, fine.

This is great, this is really nice.
I like it a lot.

So are you ready?

- Sure.
- I'm sorry, am I too early?

- Oh, no.
- Okay, so I'm here on time?

- Yeah.
- Okay, great.

You know your dad's not
coming up with us, don't you?

Yes. I know, I spoke with him.

- Okay.
- Are you all right?

- Me?
- Yeah, you just...

- No, sure, I'm fine.
- Okay.

All right, well, we should get going
then, so we can beat the traffic.

- I'll get my purse.
- Great.

I've gathered a number

of your mother's possessions
and mementos.

Pictures, letters.

You may as well have them.

I just can't seem to bring myself
to throw them away.

Has it been unbearable,
these past few months?

I've managed to keep myself busy.

I wish you'd consider moving
into the city.

I'm fine right here.

Clara comes in.

She cleans and cooks for me
the way she always has,

so that's no different.

Twice a year the board
of the Smithsonian meets.

It gets me down to Washington,
and takes up some of my time.

I'm all right.
I'm fine right here.

But you want nothing around
to even remind you of mother?

Well, there are times when even
a historian shouldn't look at the past.

Do you think at your age you can meet
someone and fall in love again?

One hopes, at my age,
to build up an immunity.

Are you aware that Paul and Lynn
are getting a divorce?

Nothing Paul does would surprise me,
and I'd much rather not hear about him.

He's had bad luck.

He's had exactly
the same chances as you've had.

It's just that he doesn't have it
inside him to stick with anything.

I hope you're not
still giving him money.

No, just, you know, now and then.

I've salvaged him from
more financial messes,

and I've spent more money doing it
than I care to tell you.

Someday he's gonna
defraud somebody

in one of those so-called
business ventures of his

and he'll go to jail.

I noticed you sort of gave me
a disapproving look at dinner.

Well, I didn't think it was very
sensitive of you to ask my father

whether at his age he could still
meet somebody and fall in love.

Well, he didn't take it badly.

No, but it just isn't very tactful.

He's old now.
He doesn't have to be reminded of it.

I'm sorry.

It's okay, it's just...

Never mind, it's... Youth.

Here are the photos.

And here's my mother's jewelry.
Such as it is.

They were never ones
for sentimental possessions.

Here's her book of Rilke's poems.

You know, she was the one who first
introduced me to German poetry.

And there's a picture of the house
in the fall.

Oh, that's really nice.
Oh, there we are in the kitchen.

Oh, and there's Clara.
Look how young you were here, Clara.

Oh, you were so good to us.

I can still taste
the cookies you used to bake.

And the way you used to sit up with us
when we had those miserable colds.

You were a saint.

Oh, and here I am, older.

I could go up to the spare room
and paint for hours.

The time would just fly by
when I was doing a picture.

And there I am with my friend Claire.
You know, she became an actress.

We used to be so close,
but I haven't seen her in years.

And there's my mother.

She loved strolling around the grounds.

She loved all beautiful things.
She loved nature, music, poetry.

That was her whole existence.

Paul? I'd like to discuss
something with you.

Yes, Dad?

I've had a talk
with my brother Ben.

And he has promised me

that he will find a position for you
next season in his firm.

I don't wanna work
in a cardboard box factory.

It's paper products, Paul,
it's not just boxes.

But I tried it once.
I go nuts.

Paul...

There are some obligations
one must accept.

This has not been a good year.

Your mother is very ill,
and I have decided to take time off

to finish my study on
the Continental Congress.

And it's important
that there is enough money

to see that Marion can go away
to college.

I want her to take advantage
of that scholarship.

She is such a brilliant girl.

But I had other plans.

And I'm sure those plans included
card-playing and time-wasting.

That's not fair.

Paul, your grades are mediocre.

And it's not because
you're not smart enough,

it's simply
that you don't apply yourself.

I know. And Marion's a genius.

She has the opportunity
to go to Bryn Mawr.

Do you want to prevent her?

No.

She's going to be something,
that girl.

She's got what it takes.
There are no limits for her.

If only I could get her to stop
daydreaming in the woods

with her beloved watercolors.

Paul?

What's wrong?

He's making me go to work
in the paper box factory.

Well, what do you wanna do?

I don't know.

Move out of the house, travel,
find some interesting business,

anything but work
in a paper box factory.

I hate him.

Both of them.

They live in their own world.

- Is this close enough?
- Yeah, this is fine.

I'm meeting Scott right up here.

Listen. Why don't you come?

He'd love to meet you,
and I've told him a lot about you.

Thank you, honey,
but I'm really tired.

- Can I take a rain check on it?
- Come on, just for one beer.

I mean, it's really early,
and Dad's not gonna be home yet.

What, do you see someone?

- I do.
- Who?

Oh, it's just...

It's an acquaintance of mine,
just a woman I know.

All right, well, thanks a lot.
I had a terrific time.

- Okay.
- Okay. Bye.

I forgot half of that speech tonight.

I know, I had...

Marion. I...

- Claire?
- It's you. It is you. It is.

- Claire? I was just talking about you.
- Yes?

I was going through some old photos
at my father's house.

What are you doing here?

Sorry. I'm doing a play.
And it's closing, but...

You're in a show?

Yes. I guess you don't read
the theater section of the paper.

Well, yes, I do,
but I just had no idea.

I'm sorry, what am I doing?
I'm sorry.

This is my husband, this is Jack.

- Hello. Marion Post.
- Hi. Nice to meet you.

Oh, my goodness. Claire,
I have wondered about you so often.

- Well, we just, we live in Monterey now.
- Really?

- We do. We moved...
- Listen, do you have time for a drink?

Sorry, I don't. We're just...
We're meeting some friends.

- No, we have time till our appointment.
- Do you?

- Do we really?
- Oh, that's great.

- There must be a place right around here.
- Oh, sure.

- Come. Come on, this way. Straight ahead.
- I just...

Amnesty International and ACLU.

Then it turned out
they were both on the same day.

Listen, you gotta be kidding me.
Are you saying that you are

a member of Amnesty International
and the American Civil Liberties Union?

Marion always had the urge
to save humanity, didn't you?

That's right. Just give me a flood
or a famine. Ken too.

Where do you find the time?
I don't understand.

It doesn't work out perfectly
all the time.

And head of the philosophy department.
Impossible.

I took two years of philosophy,
University of Chicago.

Oh, they've got a great department.

It was good,
before they asked me to leave.

And Claire, you never told me
that you had this chapter in your life.

- I thought I had.
- Oh, we were so close.

It was always clear

- she was going to be a gifted actress.
- No.

She never said a thing about it.

Don't you believe her. Don't you believe her.
This woman always had that flair.

Do you get to the theater much?
I guess not with your schedule...

- Yeah, I do.
- Probably not possible.

I do. My husband really prefers the opera,
but, you know, there's so little to see.

Actually, I used to be
a devoted Brechtian.

I staged some Brecht.

- Did you?
- Yes. Mother Courage.

- Not the one here?
- Yes, the one here. Did you see it?

Oh, sure I saw it.
That was... That's the...

That's the most intelligent rendering
of that play I've ever seen.

Oh, that's very sweet of you.

I did have some problems
with the translation.

I thought that some of the speeches
could have been a little better.

Exactly.
The translation was awkward.

Yeah, but you did a terrific job.
Really terrific.

Hey, hey. Hey.

Look at me once in a while.
I'm your wife, not her.

I mean it. You've been hanging on her
every word since we sat down.

Darling, you're embarrassing me.

My husband is very impressed
by certain things

which I apparently cannot give him.

Claire, take it easy.

Do you deny?

He's been looking
into your eyes for over an hour?

I don't think that you've heard
one word that I said.

You're a little drunk.

If you'd rather be alone with her,
why don't you just say...

Hey, Claire, now just stop it,
this is foolish.

- We're just having a nice chat.
- Don't. Don't do that.

Don't play so innocent with me.

This wouldn't be
the first time it's happened.

Stop this.

- What does that mean?
- Let's go, Claire. I'm sorry, Marion.

We've been in this situation before,

where you so innocently wound up
causing me to doubt my whole life.

Claire, you're being awfully theatrical.

I don't know what you're talking about.

We didn't just drift apart, Marion.
I withdrew.

You're not talking about David?

Then you do know.

I know I never had
the slightest interest in him.

But you knew how much I cared for him.

I never had anything to do with him.

And I never gave him
a shred of encouragement.

Yes.

That's not true.

Your conversations
were full of subtle flirtations,

full of meaningful little looks,

and little gambits designed
to seduce.

That's so untrue.

And you've held that against me?

He couldn't see anything,
except how infatuated he was with you.

We never spent a single moment alone.
I never had anything to do with him.

And I say that you seduced him.
You just...

You turned it on whenever he was around.

Maybe you didn't even know
that you were doing it.

Claire, let's get off the subject.

I must have seemed very bland to him
after he met you.

Oh, this is nonsense!

I mean, to have backed off
of a close friendship

because of some fantasy?

I'm sure I brought it on myself.
I was so proud of you.

You were my best friend.

You were so witty and so quick,
and I was so naive.

Of course, you would want David
to fall for you. He was exceptional.

But I never accepted any of his overtures.

I told him he was going with you
and it was out of the question.

But by that time you had what you wanted.

That's absurd.

I really believe that you may not
have realized what you were doing.

This is outrageous.
You should never drink.

I swear to you, it was never in my mind.
Not consciously or subconsciously or...

Think about it.
Just think about it sometime.

You should be the actress.

When I got home, Ken was asleep.

I was too shaken up to go to bed.

The incident with Claire
had left me edgy and uncomfortable.

I thought if I read for a while
it might relax me.

I thumbed through
my mother's edition of Rilke.

When I was 16, I had done a paper
on his poem about The Panther,

and on the image that the panther saw
as it stared out from its cage.

And that image, I concluded,
could only be death.

Then I saw my mother's favorite poem,

Archaic Torso of Apollo.

There were stains on the page,
which I believe were her tears.

They fell across the last line.

For here there is no place
that does not see you.

You must change your life.

You got in late last night?

I ran into an old friend.

Then I didn't sleep.

I don't think
I closed my eyes for 10 minutes.

I don't know how you do it.
I'd collapse.

We're going to the concert
with Mark and Lydia tonight.

Oh, I'm good for today,
it's, you know, it's tomorrow, I'll feel it.

Yeah, but not tomorrow. We're going
to Tom and Eleanor's for dinner.

And Friday, Mark and Lydia
are taking us out for our anniversary.

Is it our anniversary already?

Yeah. Goes quickly, doesn't it?

What's the matter?

I don't know.

What is it?

Well, you know, shouldn't we
spend our anniversary alone?

We could go to the restaurant
where we had our first night together.

Something like that.

In Philadelphia?

Hold me.

Hey.

Honey.

I've already found your present.

Did I seduce you away from your wife?

No, I seduced you, don't you remember?

And then I was worried
in case you wouldn't consider me

because I was a married man.

Well...

So how was it with Laura last night?

You know that kid idolizes you.

Yeah.

Well, I'd better get going, I guess.

I have to stop at the library
on my way downtown.

Okay.

You're silent today.

Usually you're quite talkative.

Yeah, I have nothing to say.

I guess I have nothing to report.

Are you angry?

No, not that I'm aware of.

But you have nothing to say?

No.

She saw us, Scott.
I asked you to lock the door.

You said you thought
they were walking in the woods.

Dad said
he was really uncomfortable

about us being here for the weekend,

and I tried to explain it to him,
make him trust me,

and I said everything would be
all right, and this... I...

Come on, I'm sure she's
sophisticated.

Yeah, you don't know Marion.

- I thought you said she was pretty hip.
- Yeah, she is, she's great. She's...

She's great. She...

I don't know, it's just that she's...

She's a little judgmental.

You know?

She just... She sort of stands above
people and evaluates them.

I've heard her make remarks
about her brother, and...

I always think that she's gonna
judge me that way. I don't know.

I just... Now, I feel
really cheap for some reason.

- Cheap?
- Yes.

- Cheap?
- Yes.

- I thought it was very romantic.
- It was.

With the fire, and the wine...

Yeah. It was.

I couldn't work anymore that day.

I felt I needed some fresh air.

I walked the streets aimlessly,

just trying to put
some jumbled thoughts in order.

I don't know how long I wandered,

but when I looked up,
I was quite far from my writing room.

What's happened?

I don't know.

Well, what are you doing here?

Something must be wrong.

Oh, don't say that.

Marion, you don't seek out
my company very often.

You must need something.

Yes, I do need something.

Only I don't know what it is, exactly.

Yeah, well, what do I have?
Take a look.

To be honest with me, Paul.

You and I were so close
when we were young.

Well, how honest
do you want me to be?

It was just today that I realized

how long it's been
since we've even spoken.

Well...

Marion, I think I sort of
gave up pursuing you

when I realized how uncomfortable
it was making you feel.

- That's not true.
- Don't deny it. Come on, Marion.

You know...

I realized that I disappointed you.

And worse,
I realized that I embarrass you.

How I live and who I marry, and...

Of course, that's falling apart now,
so we don't have to worry about it.

She wants me
to work for Cousin Andrew.

But she's right, you know,
because

I never have supported her
and the kids properly.

Well, would that be so awful?
Working for Andrew?

You used to say that.

I know. I know I did, but...

You know, times change.

Yeah, they certainly do.

Do you remember, some years ago,

when I showed you
something I'd written?

You remember what you said?

No, I don't remember.

I was probably just trying
to be truthful.

Yes, I'm sure.

You said, this is overblown.

It's too emotional. It's maudlin.

Your dreams may be meaningful to you,

but to the objective observer
they're...

It's so embarrassing.

I said that?

Exactly your words.

So, I try not to embarrass you anymore.

I should go.

I've spent all afternoon
trying to think of a great place

to take you two
to celebrate your anniversary on Friday.

What's wrong with
the hotel in Philadelphia

where you had your first
illicit moments of passion?

You see?
He thinks like you think.

He drinks, not thinks.

I should drink. I should drink.

If I ever started drinking...
This is not drinking.

Excuse me,
I'm sorry to disturb you, but...

I was a pupil of yours
20 years ago. Vermont?

Cynthia Frank?
You probably won't remember, but...

Yes, I do.
I do remember you.

- You changed my life.
- I did?

You were the...

Well, she was the inspiration for
every woman in the philosophy department.

I can understand that.

- That's very kind of you.
- I still remember those lectures so clearly.

There was a particular talk you gave
on ethics and moral responsibility that...

Well, your ideas were amazing to me,
and they're still amazing to me.

Well, didn't mean to interrupt you,
but I wanted to tell you.

I've seen you here before, and I never was
able to say that you changed my life.

Thanks.

Hey, all right. All right.
Well done.

Do you remember that lecture?

It's terrific that
she just turned around and, you know...

It's very touching.

I had spent
a second sleepless night,

and the following day at work,
I really felt it.

I couldn't write at all,
and what little I did try was forced.

Usually, I can't sleep in the day,
but I was exhausted.

I closed my eyes for a few minutes,

and that's when the dream
must have come.

You're not going to say anything?

You haven't said a thing,
and your hour's almost up.

I don't believe
you have nothing to say.

I think it's because you're angry.

Too choked with rage to speak.

What is it that enrages you?

Life.

Life?

The universe.

The cruelty, the injustice.

The suffering of humanity.

Illness, aging, death.

All are very abstract.
Humanity.

Don't worry about humanity
all the time.

Get your own life in order.

- Yeah.
- We'll continue this tomorrow.

What would you say
she was suffering from?

- Self-deception.
- Good. It's a little general.

But I don't think she can part
with the lies.

No? Too bad.

Not that she doesn't want to.

It's precisely that she doesn't want to.

When she wants to, she will.

- It's all happening so fast.
- I have to hurry.

I'm trying to prevent her
from killing herself.

- You don't think she would?
- She's already begun.

- She has?
- Oh, not very dramatically.

That's not her style.

She's doing it slowly
and methodically,

and has been
since she was very young.

Now, if you'll pardon me,
I have another patient.

Now that my life is drawing
to a close, I...

I have only regrets.

Regrets that
the woman I shared my life with

is not the one I loved
the most deeply.

Regrets that there is no love
between my son and myself.

That is my fault.

Regrets that perhaps I've been
too severe with my daughter,

too demanding, that I haven't

given her enough feeling.

But I was so unhappy myself,

so caught up in those stupid studies
of historical figures.

Even though I have achieved
some eminence in my field,

I asked too little of myself.

Suddenly the dream shifted and I found
myself on a street that was familiar.

It seemed to be where I had run
into Claire, in front of the theater.

- What's going on?
- Come on in. It's okay.

Would she like to observe
the rehearsal?

Claire is such a good actress.

She plays innumerable roles.

Would you ever think of making love
to me on the living room floor?

- Would you want me to?
- I don't know.

Would you want to?

Well, somehow I've never
seen you as the hardwood floor type.

No.

That's a pretty insulting thing
to say.

I think it's you that's the type
not to make love anywhere

but in the bedroom
with all the lights out.

Well, now, who's being insulting?

I suppose that you're going to take out
all of your clothes now and go to bed.

Well, it's 1:00 a.m.

Look, let's just try being honest
with one another.

There's not much passion left
in this marriage anymore, is there?

Is there not? I haven't noticed.

Oh, don't be so aloof.
I'm trying to tell you something.

It's not erotic anymore.

- Well, was it ever?
- Was it not?

Marion, I'm tired.

We rarely sleep together anymore,
and when we do it's by the book.

It's the same routine. I know exactly
what you're going to do and in what order.

Yeah, it's true,
we are both creatures of routine.

Now, could we go to sleep?
It's late.

And could you please try not
to toss and talk in your sleep?

Last night you kept saying Larry.

I assume you're having
some kind of dream about Larry Lewis.

At the mention
of Larry Lewis' name,

I experienced odd feelings
of melancholy and longing.

I wanted to weep in the dream,

but the tears wouldn't come.

- Are you married?
- Yes.

You knew I got married.

Oh, yes.

Yes, I had heard that.

Larry wants us to move back
to New York, but I don't.

We've had such a nice time
in Santa Fe.

Are you happy?

I'm happy.

Why don't I leave you two?
I'm sure you have a lot to talk about.

I see your by-line
now and then in magazines.

Did you read my novel?

I have it, but I am embarrassed
to say I haven't read it yet.

You inspired one of the characters.

- I hope you weren't too rough on me.
- No.

I wrote of you with great love.

Your wife is lovely.

Yes. I met her
right after you said goodbye to me.

Her name is Jennifer.
She's also quite a good writer.

- Do you have any children?
- Yes.

We have a daughter.

It's been the greatest,
most beautiful experience of my life.

Do you ever think of me?

Once in a while.

I hope you're happy with Ken.

I ran into him on the street
not too long ago.

He must have told you.

I think of you more than
once in a while.

But without regret.
Please,

don't tell me you have any regret.

Darling, you must
come in here for a moment.

I want to show you a beautiful sunset.

Which character in your novel
did I inspire?

Hlenka. I gave you a beautiful name.
Hlenka.

I described our times together.

You'll recognize it.

I have to go now.

My wife needs me.

Marion, please, don't cry.

Although I am glad to hear
our little scene is moving.

I'd like to go home.

And you will.

I just thought you might like
to see our second act finale.

Your first husband's suicide scene.

It's touching.

Sam was not a suicide.

How do you know?
It was 15 years after you divorced.

He died in his sleep from
mixing pills and alcohol.

I was at his funeral.

Well, you know,
that's always a gray area.

Alone in a hotel room, depressed.

Sam was a wonderful man.

We had such lovely times together.

You taught me so much.

You were a wonderful pupil.

Certainly the most
interesting one in my class.

Still, the age difference...

I shouldn't have seduced you.
Intellectually, that is.

I should have resisted that temptation.

I shouldn't have made you adore me,
but you were such a dazzling pupil,

the temptation was too great.

And so I paid the price.

We both paid the price.

Inevitably there comes a time when
the pupil absorbs all that he or she can.

And then what seemed like the constant
joyous imparting of knowledge and opinions

becomes suffocation.

Ironically, that's what they wrote
on my death certificate.

Suffocation.

Oh, Sam.

Wait, there's another important
scene between you and Sam.

No.

No more.

That night we had what was
supposed to be a charming dinner

with Tom and Eleanor Banks.
Doctor Banks.

Everyone was full of energy,
and I must have seemed drab contrast.

Not only was I tired,
but the dream had put me in a foul mood.

Tom and Eleanor are funny,
aren't they?

All that carrying on about ESP
and parapsychology.

You'd think they'd be more sensible.

And then when you put it down
so unequivocally, I thought they'd die.

You were a little cruel,
however correct.

I was so tired,
I was in a stinking mood.

And who knows? Maybe they're right.

Maybe there is more to life
than meets the eye.

What the hell do I know?

Well, their beliefs are one step
ahead of Ouija boards.

And all that talk about
their trip to Greece.

You'd think no one had ever
sailed around the Greek islands before.

If we're so contemptuous of Tom
and Eleanor, why do we go out with them?

I'm not contemptuous of them, it's just
when they get on to certain topics.

Next week it'll be flying saucers.

Why do we have to see people
every night anyway?

We never spend any time alone.

- Well, that's not so.
- Yes, it is so. Every night it's friends.

Yours, mine, people we meet,
we hardly know.

We've known Tom and Eleanor for years.

- And you don't even enjoy him.
- Of course I do.

Oh, come on,
you've spoken contemptuously

many times
because he's a radiologist,

which you don't take seriously.

- I'm joking.
- No, you're not.

You disguise it as joking,
but you're serious.

Marion, I don't know why you're trying
to provoke an argument with me.

Why are we afraid
to be alone with each other?

I didn't think we were.

Is it really because we really have
nothing to say to each other anymore?

We talk.

And why do we have to go out
with Mark and Lydia

on our anniversary anyway?

Listen, if that's all that's
bothering you, we won't go.

But neither do I think we should
drive all the way to Philadelphia

and check into the hotel
where we had our first tryst.

Don't do that.

Don't make something romantic
sound infantile.

Okay, but it's the same level
of maturity as sex on the floor.

We might as well have it on the floor.
We certainly don't have it in bed anymore.

I don't believe we're having
this discussion.

Why've you stopped sleeping with me?

We are simply going through a less active
period, that's all. It's not uncommon.

Why? I just wanna know why.

Why don't we just go to bed?

There was a time
that we were dying to be together.

Marion, you're still the most
desirable woman I know.

But we won't make love tonight
because there'll be some excuse.

I hadn't realized how much of that
had slipped away until today.

I'm really sorry.

If I've done anything wrong,
forgive me.

I accept your condemnation.

You were a wonderful pupil.

Certainly the most
interesting one in my class.

Still, the age difference...

I love you.

I love you too.

- Happy birthday.
- Oh, I told you not to bother.

Oh, I wanted to. Open it.

While you were out,
I read your paper.

It was quite brilliantly written.

It's your work that's brilliant.

And more important, it's original.

- Oh, what is it? From a play or something?
- Yes.

It's an original from a French
production of La Gioconda.

- Oh, I love it.
- I thought you'd like it.

It was all I could afford
from that great store.

The following morning
on the way to work,

I realized I'd forgotten
to get an anniversary gift for Ken.

I thought it would be a simple thing,
but it took surprisingly long.

The truth was, I couldn't really think
of what he might like.

After window-shopping for an hour or so,
I came across an old antique store.

At first, I didn't think there'd be
anything special for him there,

but somehow I was drawn
to look further.

The place was empty and dusty,
and in the back a radio was playing.

It was full of odd pieces, and I found
browsing in it quite fascinating.

Excuse me. Are you all right?

Thank you. I'm okay.

Can I help you?

I'm sorry.

I don't know why I'm so emotional.
I was...

Oh, thank you.

Thank you. I was just looking
at that picture there, and I...

And I just felt so sad.

Oh, but this is a very optimistic work.

You know, I saw the original of this once.
In fact, its title is Hope.

I think, of all of the paintings Klimt did
during that period,

that this is the most positive.

I'm sorry.

Are you an artist?

Yes, I... Well, I used to do
some painting when I was younger.

I was absolutely in love
with this whole school.

It's funny.
Just this morning I was thinking about...

That I missed painting.
I'd like to get back into it.

Really?

I guess we all imagine
what might have been.

But that was a long time ago.

Well, anyway...

- Are you feeling better now?
- Yes, I just wanna get some air.

What kind of paintings did you do?

Oh, watercolors, mostly.

We left the store
and walked along together.

I wanted to know her better
without seeming pushy.

We talked about art, and the discussion
seemed to cheer her a little.

We stopped at a gallery and spent
some time marveling at the pictures,

and I took a chance
and invited her to lunch.

I was excited when she accepted.

She suggested a little out-of-the-way place
that was charming and quite private.

We ordered a bottle of wine, although
she hardly touched it, being pregnant.

The result was that
I wound up drinking most of it,

and while I really wanted
to find out about her,

it was me who wound up
doing most of the talking.

Fifty.

I didn't think anything
of turning 30.

Everybody said I would.

Then they said I'd be crushed
turning 40.

But they were wrong.
I didn't give it a second's thought.

Then they said that I'd be
traumatized when I hit 50.

And they were right.

I'll tell you the truth.

I don't think I've ever recovered
my balance since turning 50.

Fifty's not so old.

No, I know it isn't, but...

You just suddenly look up
and see where you are.

You're in a good spot,
aren't you?

Well, I thought I was.

And then there's chances gone by
you can't have back again.

Well, like what?

I don't know.

Maybe it would be nice
to have a child.

You really think that?

I do.

I've never said it before,
but I do.

How arrogant!
How self-centered and feeling-less!

I told you I didn't want
to have a baby!

What do you mean?
You didn't want to have a baby?

It was partly mine!

Except it's my life that gets
derailed.

- I'm just destroyed!
- You go right on doing

all of the things you want,

and I have to stop, and take care
of it, and bring it up.

But we'd share the responsibility.

That's what you say, but you know
it would devolve down to me.

I wanted this baby!

I told you,
it was not part of my plan.

Well, that could you do it
without even consulting me?

Consulting you?
It's my baby!

Why do I have to consult you
for every move I make?

It's only your ego that's
hurt anyway.

- You said you loved the idea of children.
- I do, but not now.

Well, I don't have the future stretched
out in front of me indefinitely.

It's easy for you to say.
You've done your work.

You've accomplished your goals.

I'm just starting out,
I'm trying to make something out of myself!

It wouldn't be fair to the child.

But you could do it without
even asking me!

Without even giving me a chance
to argue you out of it!

I didn't want to be argued
out of it.

We've talked this to death!
It was unwanted!

Oh, do you want to bring a child
into this world? Really?

You're the one that hates
it so much.

You're forever lecturing me
on the pointlessness of existence.

- Oh, I hate you so!
- Stop it! Stop! Let me go! Stop it!

I can't stand this anymore!
Let me go!

To be capable of such a lack
of feeling!

Knowing how I felt!

Caring only about how you felt!

Your career.
Your life of the mind.

I feel a little depressed.

I met a really sad woman today.

A woman you'd think
would have everything,

but she doesn't, she has nothing.

And it made me feel frightened.

Because I feel...

I feel if I don't stop myself,

as the years go by,
I'm gonna wind up that way.

She can't allow herself to feel.

So the result is she's led this

cold cerebral life, and
has alienated everyone around her.

Well, you know,
we've talked about this before,

how I only hear and see
what I want to.

That's exactly what she does.
She...

She's pretended for so long
that everything's fine,

but you can see clearly
how lost she is.

She had an abortion years ago,
which she regrets.

She rationalizes it
in many ways,

but I think the truth is she was afraid of
the feelings she would have for a baby.

And she's a very bright woman,
very accomplished.

But like me, she...

Well, you know,
emotions have always embarrassed me.

I've run away from men
who I felt threatened me

because the intensity of their passion
just frightens me.

I guess you can't keep deep feelings
closed out forever, you know, so...

I just don't want to look up
when I'm her age and find my life is empty.

Anyhow,

while we were at lunch,
a very upsetting thing happened.

In the midst of a conversation,
she noticed her friend Lydia.

Marion?

You're late.

Hey, I got you an anniversary
present.

I know it's tomorrow,
but why don't you open it now?

I didn't know what to get you.

As I said, I always like an opera.

Happy anniversary.

Hey, come on, let's get dressed.

I'm not going anywhere.

What are you talking about?

I saw you and Lydia
in the restaurant today.

You didn't notice me, but...

I watched the two of you.

Afterwards, I went walking
for a few hours to calm myself down.

Actually, if I'd had any perception,

I would have been suspicious
from the start.

Because you and I
committed adultery for months

when you were married to Kathy.

That was a very different situation.

I don't think it was.

I guess it wouldn't mean much
if I said to you that it's passing.

It was never very serious.

And it was utterly foolish
of Lydia and myself.

I feel sorry for you, Ken,
because

in your way you've been as lonely
as I have.

Have we been lonely?

At least I've come to recognize it.

The following days,
I didn't get any work done.

Mostly I walked the streets
and just thought about my life,

trying to put everything in order.

I felt the need to talk
to my brother Paul,

who had made an important decision
about his life too.

Strange. Lynn and I go through hell
and we're staying together,

you and Ken never fight and
you're breaking up.

Yeah. Yeah.

So, will you move out? Or will he?

Oh, no, I will.

I really do want a clean start.

I wanna do a lot of things differently.

And that does mean between us too.

I'd like to spend a lot more
time with you and Lynn.

I'd like to get to know everyone.

If that's okay with you.

So, was it Dad's fault?
Did he do anything wrong?

Oh, we both did, you know?

I mean, I'm just
as much to blame as anybody.

- Maybe more.
- Well, it's too bad, you know.

I just wanted to make sure that the shock
of it didn't upset you too badly.

Well, I... To tell you the truth,
I'm... I'm really...

I'm not shocked,
I'm just surprised, you know? I mean...

If I can be completely honest,

I always felt that there was something
between you two that was...

I don't know.
Maybe too comfortable, or...

No, that's not the right word.
I don't...

Just something, you know?

Well, I hope that this isn't
going to have any bearing on us.

- Yeah.
- I really value your friendship.

Yeah, and I value yours.

- Yes?
- Hello.

I'm your next-door neighbor,
and I thought you should know

that through some acoustical oddness,

I can hear all of your patients
quite clearly.

Really?

Well, thank you.
I'll take care of it.

I've had the problem before.
I know what to do.

By the way, you have a young woman
that you see. The pregnant one?

I wonder if you could tell me
how I could get in touch with her.

Oh, yes. She's terminated
her treatment.

She's gone away.
I don't have any way of reaching her.

I'm afraid I can't say any more.

I resumed work.

It went well and I was undisturbed
by extraneous distractions.

The writing seemed to flow
and I was full of energy.

Once, on a sunny morning,
I paused for a break

and I thought I would look through
Larry Lewis' novel, which I'd never read.

I was curious
about the character named Hlenka,

which was rumored
to have been based on me.

I opened the book, leafed through,

and sat down
as my eye was caught by her name.

Hlenka and I accidentally
ran into one another one day

while we were both
buying tickets to a concert.

I knew her because she was the lover
of a man I knew quite well.

Recently they had decided to marry.
This was a catastrophe for me personally,

because from the first moment

he had introduced me to her,
I was in love with her.

I convinced her to have
a drink with me.

It was the only time I'd ever been
alone with her since we met.

She was lovely, and I spoke
too much and mo rapidly

because I was embarrassed
over my feelings toward her,

which I felt were painfully obvious.

We walked around in Central Park
and talked about lots of things.

I told her about a book I was planning
to write, and my wanting to live out west.

She spoke enthusiastically
about her upcoming marriage,

but I thought
it was too enthusiastic,

as if she were trying to convince
herself rather than me.

Soon it began to rain.

We ducked into an underpass
to avoid the cloudburst.

I remember thinking
how wonderful she was,

and how beautiful
she looked at that moment.

And I wanted to tell her so many things
because my feelings were swirling so.

And I think she knew everything,
and that frightened her.

And yet some instinct told me that
if I kissed her she would respond.

Her kiss was full of desire,

and I knew I couldn't share
that feeling with anyone else.

And then a wall went up, and just
as quickly I was screened out.

But it was too late, because I now knew
that she was capable of intense passion

if she would one day
just allow herself to feel.

I closed the book, and felt a strange
mixture of wistfulness and hope.

And I wondered if a memory is something
you have or something you've lost.

For the first time in a long time,
I felt at peace.