Original subtitles

THE MASK OF MEDUSA A drama in two acts

I am not risking anything. Snakes and birds of prey don't talk.

Since they are mute, I can play without being annoyed.

Who are you?

I am a Gorgon.

My name is Medusa.

Medusa who? Medusa what?

Just Medusa.

What does Medusa do?

She mesmerizes.

How come?

For no reason. She just does.

If there ever was a reason,

I forgot it.

The Medusa knows no memory.

Here, look!

THE MASK OF MEDUSA

It's like they were still here.

The young, beautiful sick girls.

Every row of seats gone mad.

Doctors gone insane.

Body snatchers...

murderers, victims...

amputated, cut up...

dragging their pathetic stumps on the stage.

Along with what remained of their existence.

They relived their death throes every night,

shivering uncontrollably.

Listen to the soldier in The Ultimate Torture:

"They cut off my hands!"

"They cut off my hands!"

What about you, poor specter?

Who are you?

You are Maxa's ghost.

You played in this theater,

where you once suffered innumerable bloody, tragic deaths.

The queen of Grand-Guignol's red tragedies.

Who died for real

before rehearsing for the role of the Medusa.

Your body as an offering to the cold blade.

Revealed from the tragic nudity of those

who meet sudden, violent death.

You came back...

Where have you been?

Wherever my missing memory had led me.

In these wrecked, dead places are hidden those I think I know.

Thus, it is possible

that my siblings appeared there.

There was, I think...

Euryale was here.

And also Stheno, my youngest sister.

My mind is not cluttered by anything, except for the blurred memory

of those who were part of me.

My two sisters,

wandering through this seedy, abandoned theater...

looking for sustenance in dirt and rubble...

emerging only at night onto this deserted stage.

Yes.

They are here.

Somewhere.

Outside, light is declining. They will soon come out.

Dwellers of the night, creatures of darkness...

crying over their loneliness.

I can almost see them, hear them.

But the memory of their faces already vanished.

I do not remember their appearance. Do they look like me?

Do they also mesmerize? Do they kill?

But you, who are the keeper,

do you know them?

And me?

Do you recognize me?

Do you know that I am called Medusa?

Do you know what I do?

What my memory kept?

Against my will, maybe.

This strange happiness I feel

when this uncanny light shines through my pupils,

transforming whoever faces me.

And, after brief death throes...

See?

Remnants of my stolen memory somehow come back to me.

I guess...

I think I know who took it from me.

But the past stays diffuse.

This theater, this stage

are just old memories

emerging from this lingering memory.

Wrecks of a show from long ago,

which stay on my mind without a reason.

I just picked it up like you would an abandoned object

which reminds you of a toy you had in your childhood,

and left unattended.

But this show

is a blood red show.

Look.

Is he the one

about to come out from behind this curtain?

It's nothing.

Just one of the people living in the basement.

In a cave...

once lived three sisters.

The three Gorgons.

Can you see them?

Look closer.

I can see them.

Time is just a human concept.

It does not exist.

Places and times are confused in my mind.

The three Gorgons now live in this sinister suburban house.

Death does not exist.

We built a cabin for our sister Stheno.

This must remind her of the wild times she was born in.

You way you feed is as disgusting as ours.

What Stheno and I eat may indeed seem offensive...

Your food may be more intellectual,

more influenced by the mind it comes from,

but we only eat dead things.

You kill to eat.

Look what we are doing.

It may seem dreadful,

but we are not using living elements.

You went too far, Euryale.

I cannot stand the sight of your abject doings any more.

I shall send you back into the horror you are coming from.

You, Euryale,

shall from now on only see what is inside your head:

Evil.

You, Stheno,

your mind shall turn dark.

Your mouth shall only let out your characteristic pig grunting.

Look at me.

Look at Medusa.

I put a curse on you, Medusa. I shall strip you of your memory.

I shall keep it enclosed within me.

My eyes!

My eyes!

I do not need my eyes to take your memories.

Look at me, Medusa. I challenge you.

You can do nothing against me. I am Stheno, I am the strongest.

I am the youngest. I am temptation.

And you will give in to it.

Look at me, Medusa.

I am alive.

You are dead!

No, stop!

Please! I do not...

We once were three sisters...

I think.

But now,

who are you?

One of them disappeared one day.

She was called Medusa.

The two others, who were hiding in their lair,

are now dragging themselves, unknown to the world.

They still hope to find their sister Medusa.

But she lost her memory.

It was taken from her.

They come out at night.

Here they come.

So, you are back.

My dear sister.

Our long-running battle will maybe reach its climax at last.

You took my sight away.

I stole your memory.

Stheno lost her voice along with her mind.

Give me my memories back!

Euryale, give me my memory back!

Without your memory, your thoughts are incoherent.

The remaining fragments keep you from losing your mind,

but they will soon fade out.

You will soon turn into a mere shadow.

Your only reality will be the present,

which you will forget

as time will flow.

Time...

is perpetual.

Without any traces left, your actions will disappear

as soon as you complete them.

You will become insane, Medusa. You will meet your end.

You lost, Euryale.

I can live without any memories.

Even if I am not able to remember what I do.

My memory may be dead, but I am alive.

And I still have consciousness.

Even if I ever forget who I am,

I can still feel a sensation

which you cannot take from me:

the consciousness of being alive.

Of which I cannot be robbed.

I will not know who I was, am, or what I was thinking...

the moment before,

But I will be.

Self-awareness is stronger than memory or recollection.

And this self-awareness is me.

Enough, Euryale!

No, don't touch her! Don't hurt her!

Is that you again?

You followed us into this theater.

Do you think you can court my sister? She cannot even see you!

Begone. You have nothing to do here.

She turned you blind, Euryale.

You can't see Stheno and I.

I'm taking her to the basement.

You don't know what's down there.

But I do, I do.

Leave, Medusa.

I was wrong to bring you in this place you had forgotten.

We are doing very well without you.

The keeper...

Stheno...

Thomas, her lover. He always fails at taking her from me.

I always find them.

The statue collector,

who follows you everywhere to retrieve the petrified people

you left behind.

And I,

poor blind woman,

am watching over this world filled with lunatics.

The deranged world haunting this theater.

In times past,

play characters,

mad people

nightmarish doctors,

people strangled, mutilated,

stabbed in every way possible

were amazing the audience.

I only need a gesture, a single glance

to burst your eyeballs out and make your blindness permanent.

The three of us, face to face,

we fought against each other.

That was because of your jealousy.

The three of us mutilated each other's flesh and mind.

I fled from the battlefield.

But today I came back looking for my lost memory.

I can take away your eyes, Euryale.

Not my eyes. Not my eyes!

I'm begging you.

Find Stheno.

Find her before this demented monster cuts her head off!

He abducted her!

He took her.

He is in love with her.

Since he broke into this theater,

he keeps on trying to take her away.

Find them.

This trap door leads to the basement.

They are down there. This is where his den is.

I'm just an amateur.

A statue collector.

I collect them

during their death throes.

I talk to them. I listen to them.

I hear their last whisper

before they pass away.

I watch them die.

It's a little pleasure of mine.

An innocent pleasure.

But sometimes, I arrive too late: they are already dead.

However,

when they are still fresh, I can...

listen to them.

This one, for instance.

Within the three Gorgons' lair, Stheno

was trying to rob Medusa of one of her preys.

Leave her.

She belongs to our sister.

To Medusa.

You have your own food.

Go away.

What did you do to me?

Please... Please kill me.

Set me free.

I can't feel my body anymore.

My limbs are numb.

My mind

is not able to think coherently anymore.

Let me move.

It's not my fault.

I'm not responsible for your illness.

The culprit is Medusa.

But don't worry,

you will soon be dead.

You will turn to nothing.

You won't feel anything anymore, and above all...

you won't miss anything anymore.

You'll be absent.

Free, but absent. You'll see...

when everything is absent, you can experience completeness.

A kind of happiness.

An almost divine state.

Here, it's over.

The petrification is complete.

She is dead.

Now I'm listening to them being quiet.

Their silence is like a confession.

In the state they remain in,

that is the sad existence of a statue,

without any thoughts or independent existence,

plunged in an unusual nothingness,

they are still screaming, but...

their calls don't mean anything

because they are forever trapped in death.

In order to escape from their screams,

I go close to that painting.

I go and melt myself in it.

I infiltrate it, I slip into it.

I enter the canvas.

Then I delight in becoming every single character in the painting.

And God knows how many there are.

I am this noble man, who draw his sword in vain.

I am this swooning lady.

And then, the time arrives.

I am the dead.

The triumphing dead

who rose up to eat the living.

Who never dreamt of the dead rising to eat the living?

Dreadful meal, terrifying feast,

horrendous Agape.

And I,

I leave my gorgeous statues,

submissive and pale,

and I become the clamour of the horde of skeletons,

whose rattling bones smother the screams of the dying.

This bizarre symphony

marks the end of time.

You are Medusa, aren't you?

Look.

My collection. Your statues.

They are somewhere in this room.

Here,

I'm penetrating this wood structures.

Do you want to come with me?

I am settling in it.

I curl in it. I am at home.

I am inviting you in.

Such peace...

Such tranquillity...

However, fear remains hidden in this quietness.

Others

live in there, I can feel it. Others...

I can't see them, but they are hidden in there.

They don't say anything. They accept me.

Sometimes,

I see shadows moving around stealthily.

The wind blows through the cracks

and it howls around meanders and crevices.

But...

I am alone.

Surrounded by a peopled blank. Encircled...

by the absence of those watching me, observing me.

Waiting for some unknown sign to jump at me.

That's it.

Such is my life.

The statues, the paintings, these wood structures...

torn to shreds!

I sometimes damage one of these statues.

This one is broken.

The one you are holding. Do you recognize it?

Who is it?

Or rather, who was it?

Don't you remember her?

Well, well. Thomas?

And this is... Stheno, I believe?

Come.

Come here, Miss.

You were hiding under that table.

And now, you pop up!

This theater is like a labyrinth.

Don't be afraid. This statue is dead.

I like dead objects.

I'm listening to their last words

and take it with me.

And what are your last words?

My statues...

My beautiful statues...

I knew you all when you were alive.

And now...

you are watching me die.

Were you waiting for me?

I'm coming. I'm coming.

I can see you!

You're smiling.

You are alive.

Here I come.

Do you still want to kill?

You don't remember, do you?

I will give your memories back.

Then you'll remember all those you petrified.

I hear within me the shrieks of all the people I petrified.

Their lives went through me when they died.

They scream through my mouth.

One after another, or all at the same time.

They pray for mercy, or threaten.

Such an awful racket.

All these dead words

are looking for a passage before dissolving.

Who were you?

You? And you?

And you, too?

Where did I meet you?

Why did I glance at you with my stone eyes?

I hate you, Medusa.

I once took your memory...

now i will take your life.

I can feel your power pierce through my dead eyes.

Help...

Help!

All the people you killed will come and blame you.

All these innocent women are waiting for you.

Go, Sister.

Go.

But before you go, kill me.

My memories are overwhelming me.

You are here.

The people I killed...

my glance, my eyes meeting yours.

You are now part of me.

All within me.

You are dwelling in me like I am dwelling in you.

Medusa, who is me...

Medusa, swallowing you up and loving you.

You are all around me.

You are looking at me dying like you were still alive.

But you are mere ghosts.

I can still hear the litany of your double-bass;

you are playing, you are stone, you are still.

I can hear your music.

I am going to die.

Alone..

with this piece of broken statue.

Who was it?

I do not remember.

My memories are mingled together, but it does not matter.

Why would one need memories at the end of one's life?

For what?

There is no such thing as real memories.

In my head was such a jumble.

Such a hotchpotch of old memories.

Like a deserted attic where no one goes anymore.

Were they memories?

Did I really need them?

Memory, recollections...

Just old, useless things we drag along with us.

Everything is useless.

Everything is lost in my head.

My end is coming, I can feel it.

Let me...

Let Medusa experience death.

I love you, Stheno.

What did they all become?

From one film to another, they walked around this graveyard.

The oldest graves, where the names have been erased.

Near the tombstones which are no longer visited,

some characters are still wandering.

These unsettling shadows have been seen at times,

declaiming some endless speech their beginning long gone.

Their end never to come.

Like in some scenes from La Nuit des horloges.

What about the survivors from The Mask of Medusa?

Maybe they're hiding here.

In some corner...

Or maybe they're lying in ambush under a gravestone,

waiting for some careless passer by.

Medusa and Euryale.

One was petrified and her throat was slit,

the other was beheaded.

And you, Stheno? What did you do with your companion?

He who survived the basements of the Grand Guignol?

Are the specters from Chaptal street still alive?

Don't go this way.

There are strange noises.

I am still going.

Did you see Zozo's new hat? It's a hat,

a real funny pat

On the front were put three peacock feathers

On the side is a lovely parrot

Who are you?

My name is Cornelius.

Are you trying to scare people with that fake head?

It's not a fake. It's my sister's head.

I'm not the one who cut it off, mind you.

Come, I'll show you where I live.

Come.

This is my other sister, Euryale.

Medusa turned her into stone and slit her throat.

She keeps on bleeding. On and on.

Forever, maybe?

Medusa is still inveighing against her with her stiff, ireful mouth.

They are both alive, you know.

We are the three Gorgons, and we will live forever.

How about that!

This night I slept in a mausoleum, amongst coffins.

I wanted to know fear, but I felt nothing.

This actually was funny.

Gloomy, but not frightening.

There were just dead people. I'm not afraid of them.

I entertained them with the song about Zozo's hat.

What are you doing here?

This is where I live.

There isn't much to eat, though.

Don't tell me you eat the dead? Are you a ghoul?

No, not really.

I grind the skulls into a powder, then I mix it with some blood.

It's tasty.

Where do you find the blood?

I cut myself. Here.

It's the only way.

There are only dead in the graveyard, and they don't bleed.

You can have some of mine, if you want.

Okay.

Choose any part.

You've got a gorgeous ass.

I don't have any knife... May I bite you?

Go ahead, don't be afraid.

Thanks. That will be tonight's dinner.

Why are you dressed that way?

I made this.

I've got nothing else except from Medusa's trench coat.

I can't take the clothes of the dead.

I'd love to have a flower dress like this one.

I've got another one.

Here.

The two orphan vampires danced on the graves in P�re-Lachaise.

We'll dance under it.

What about her? Who is she?

That old body? She was already here when I came.

The poor girl committed suicide, or maybe she was murdered?

Doesn't it bother you?

No... Look at what's left of my sisters.

Aren't they pretty?

They are alive.

No. This one is stone.

And Medusa, there's just her head.

They're not alive anymore.

Come on, let's see them.

They are living somewhere else. In there.

They are lost in this labyrinth. In these giddy corridors.

They are wandering in meanders, one looking for the other.

Still hating each other.

Euryale, her hand against her slit throat.

Medusa, beheaded.

They're looking for each other to resume their endless fight.

Only I can spot them.

Only I can hear their breathless running,

the noise of their hastened steps.

They're chasing each other without ever catching up.

Their steps echo.

These bizarre structures are the antechamber of death.

As long as they hate each other,

they will remain trapped in these corridors where they're lost.

They run, and walk,

to fight each other again and again.

But they never meet.

One isolated from the other, forever.

Loneliness is their fate.

They can hear each other, they're about to fight,

but they never meet.

Maybe they will remain in these corridors,

without ever finding peace in death.

Never, ever. Do you understand?

Not really.

Why don't you come with me? We can live together if you want.

You don't understand. My home is here, with her.

She keeps me from going out.

I'm powerless against their will.

Everyday when I wake up I see the rotting body of this woman

which no one have found.

I see the remains of my companion.

- What's his name? How did he die? - Thomas. I killed him.

He's in this coffin.

- Poor guy. Why did you kill him? - I am a Gorgon.

Plus, he's not really dead.

Look. Open the coffin.

Bitch! You bitch!

Bitch!

He calmed down.

He's alive!

Not really. It's a fit of catalepsy.

I think he's going to snuff it.

I live nearby.

Come to my place.

I can't.

They won't let me.

Who?

Why, my sisters.

Medusa and Euryale.

I'm trapped forever in this graveyard.

Until they meet and fight each other.

Not that it'll ever happen.

This is nonsense.

Come on. I will take you out.

This won't work. You'll see.

But let's go anyway.

Come on.

Make an effort.

Come on, jump!

I can't.

They're holding me back.

They're stronger than me.

We'll find a way.

I'll take you with me, you'll see.

I'm going to visit you every day.

Wait for me up these stairs.

Translation: JohnnyP Proofreading: Goupil66