All language subtitles for Out Of The Unknown S02E01 - The Machine Stops - 1965.english

[theme music plays]

[recorded male voice]
Above you, beneath you,

around you is the Machine.

The Earth, carrying you,
speeds through space,

turning you now
to the invisible sun,

now to the invisible stars.

But deep down in the Machine,

you have your own darkness,
and your own light.

Thanks to the universal
establishment of the Machine,

each of you, in your room,

is in touch with all
that you care for in the world.

And if you have any queries,

refer to the book published
by the Central Committee.

ln the book are instructions

against every,
possible contingency.

If you are hot, or cold,
or dyspeptic,

or at a loss for a word,

or how to phrase a sentence,
go to the book. [electronic buzzing]

I suppose I must see who it is.

Who is it?

Mother? It’s Kuno.
I want to speak to you.

Very well.
I will isolate myself.

I do not expect
anything important

will happen
for the next five minutes.

Yes, I give you
fully five minutes, Kuno.

Then I must deliver
one of my lectures on music

during the Australian period.

[whirring]

Be quick. Be quick, Kuno.
Here I am in the dark,

wasting my time!

I’ve called you before, Mother,

but you were always busy
or isolated.

I have something
particular to say.

Why couldn't you have sent it
by pneumatic post?

Because I prefer
saying such a thing.

I want you
to come and see me.

But I can see you!

From the other side of the Earth
I can see you.

What more do you want?

Pay me a visit.
Come and stop with me.

I want to see you,
not through the Machine.

I want to speak to you,

not through
the wearisome Machine.

Shh! You mustn't say
anything against the Machine.

- Why not?
- One mustn't, that's all.

You talk as
if God had made the Machine.

Men made it, do not forget that.
Great men, but men.

The Machine is much,
but not everything.

I see something like you
in this plate,

but I do not see you.

I hear something like you
in this receiver,

but I do not hear you.

That is why I want you to come,

so that we can meet
face to face, and talk...

about the hopes
that are in my mind.

I can scarcely spare the time
for a visit.

It barely takes two hours to fly
between Australia and Devon.

- I dislike the aeroship.
- Why?

I dislike seeing
the horrible brown Earth,

and the sea,
and the stars when it is dark.

I get no ideas in the air.

I do not get them anywhere else.

What kind of ideas
can the air give you?

Do you know four big stars
that form an oblong?

And three stars close together
in the middle of the oblong?

And hanging from these stars,
three other stars?

I had an idea
they were like a man.

I don't understand.

The four big stars are
the man's shoulders,

and his knees.

The three in the middle are
like belts that men wore once,

and the three stars hanging
are like a sword.

It doesn't strike me
as a very good idea,

but it's certainly original.

- When did it first come to you?
- In the aeroship.

I want to see those stars again,
not from the aeroship,

but from the surface
of the Earth,

as our ancestors did.

I want to visit
the surface of the Earth.

- Kuno!
- Mother, you must come.

If only to explain to me,

what is the harm of visiting
the surface of the Earth.

No harm, but no advantage.

The surface of the Earth
is only dust and mud,

no life remains on it.
You would need a respirator,

or the cold of the outer air
would kill you.

One dies immediately
in the outer air.

I know. Of course
I shall take all precautions.

- And besides...
- Well?

It is contrary
to the spirit of the age.

You mean, contrary to
the Machine!

ln a sense but... Kuno! Kuno!

Kuno!

[fragmented voices
in Vashti's head]

[Kuno] Men made it,
do not forget that.

[Kuno] I want you to come--

[Vashti] I dislike--

[echoes]

[Vashti] No ideas...
ln the air--

[Kuno] I want to see you...

The Earth,
he surface of the Earth--

[Vashti] Kuno!

[fragmented echoes]

[Vashti] No harm,
but no advantage.

[recording of Vashti]
And there was, at one time,

in one of the civilisations
before ours,

high hope of neutralising
the Earth's diurnal revolution.

But that hope,
together with hopes

that were possibly higher,
have passed.

Those were the old days,

when men went out
for a change of air,

instead of changing the air
in their rooms.

Today I will do it.

[whirring]

I will not use the Machine,
I will do it myself.

[steady beeping]
I must... I must!

I must!

[beeping continues]

I wish to put in an application
to the Central Committee.

I wish to put in an application
to become a father.

[Machine] Your application
will be considered.

You will be informed
of the result in due course.

[running water]

[recorded voice]
To keep pace with the sun,

or even to outstrip it,

had been the aim
of the civilisation

preceding our own.

Racing aeroplanes were built
for the purpose,

capable of enormous speed.

Horrible accidents occurred,

and the committee
of the Machine,

at the time rising
into prominence,

declared the pursuit illegal,
unmechanical,

and punishable by homelessness.

O machine, O machine, O machine.

I have not the time.

[laughing]

[laughing]

[whirring]

[rush of air]

Air!

[whirring]

Air...

[whirring continues]

I shall do it yet.

[woman over the Machine]
What is that new food like?

Can you recommend it?

The new food is horrible.

The new make-up is a success.

Have you had any ideas recently?

None of my own.
But I have just been told one.

That four stars
and three in the middle

are like a man.

I doubt there is much in it.

Who gave you that idea?

One of my sons.

But I suppose
it's just the nonsense

of a youthful man.

Have you seen him

since his removal
to the public nurseries?

Yes, I made one visit there,
and he came to visit me,

until the Machine
assigned him a room

on the other side of the Earth.

He visited you?

Yes, there was something special
about Kuno.

[whirring]

[electronic pulsing]

[Machine] Citizen Kuno,
it is noted that

you have a certain
physical strength.

ln these days,
it is a demerit to be muscular.

Each infant
is examined at birth,

and all who promise
undue strength are destroyed.

Man must be adapted
to his surroundings,

and the strong
must suffer euthanasia.

There would be grave danger,

that, in the event of
your becoming a father,

your physical characteristics

would be transmitted
to your son.

Therefore your application
to become a father is refused,

that the Machine may progress...

That the Machine may progress...

That the Machine may progress
eternally... [echoes]

I wish to summon a respirator!

[Vashti]
Kuno!

Kuno!

Kuno, have you been
to the surface of the Earth?

Not yet.

Tell me what you wanted
to tell me.

I will not talk to you
until you come.

Use the communication system.

I know all about the
obsolete communication system.

I’ve studied the civilisation
immediately preceding our own,

and I know that it mistook
the functions of the system,

and used it for
bringing people to things,

instead of
bringing things to people.

Nowadays, spiritually minded
people don't travel.

- Mother!
- Rapid intercourse,

from which previous
civilisations hoped so much,

has ended up defeating itself.

What's the good
of going to Pekin

when it's just like Shrewsbury?

Why return to Shrewsbury
when it's just like Pekin?

Nowadays,
men seldom move their bodies.

Yes, all unrest is concentrated
in the soul.

And besides... it would mean
direct experience.

Why do you not
come to me instead?

Because I cannot
leave this place.

Why not?

Because any moment something
tremendous may happen.

What?

I will not tell you
through the Machine.

Kuno.

Kuno.

Kuno, I cannot come to see you.
I am not well.

Doctor...

[whirring]

[Vashti's heartbeat]

[air rustling]

[electric motor and rush of air]

[thunderous explosion]

[birds cawing]

[gasping]

[breathing]

[deep, slow whirring]

[birds cawing]

[rustling]
[pants]

[gasps]

[cawing continues]

Ah!

[faint beeping]

[faint electric fizzling]

[loud electric fizzling]

[loud electric fizzling]

[screaming]

[screams]

[fizzling continues]

[muffled screaming]

The duties of parents cease
at the moment of birth,

when the baby is removed
to a public nursery.

Kuno.

Kuno.

O Machine...

Attendant?

Attendant!

Who are they?

Young males sent out
from the public nurseries,

to inhabit the rooms of those

who have died in the various
parts of the Earth.

He is on a homeward journey,

sent to Sumatra for the purpose
of propagating the race.

- Where are we now?
- We are over Asia.

Asia?

You must excuse
my way of speaking.

I’ve got into
the habit of calling

places over which we pass,

- by their unmechanical names.
- Oh, I remember Asia.

Those mountains on the right,
let me show you them.

[whirring]

The Himalayas.

Once called...

'The Roof of the World'
those mountains.

What a foolish name.

Advanced mechanical language
is much more convenient,

as taught in the Book.

You must remember that
before the dawn of civilisation,

they seemed to be
an impenetrable wall,

that touched the stars.

It was supposed that
no one but the gods

could exist above their summits.

How we have advanced,
thanks to the Machine.

How we have advanced,
thanks to the Machine.

And that white stuff
in the cracks.

What is it?

I’ve forgotten its name.

Cover the windows, please.

These mountains
give me no ideas.

We have indeed advanced.

[whirring]

I have had
the most terrible journey, Kuno,

and greatly retarded
the development of my soul.

It’s not worth it, Kuno,
it's not worth it.

The sunlight almost
touched my face.

I can only stay
a few moments,

so say what you have to say
and then I must return.

I’ve been threatened
with homelessness.

I’ve been threatened
with homelessness.

I could not tell you such a
thing through the Machine.

Homelessness means death!

They will kill you!
What have you done?

I’ve been outside
since I spoke to you last.

And they discovered me.

But why shouldn't you
go outside?

It’s perfectly legal to visit
the surface of the Earth,

perfectly mechanical.

One simply summons a respirator
and gets an Egression permit.

It’s not the kind of thing that
spiritually minded people do,

and I begged you
not to do it,

but there is
no legal objection to it.

I did not get
an Egression permit.

Then how did you get out?

- I found a way of my own.
- I don't understand.

A way of my own.

A way of your own!
But that would be wrong.

Why?

You're beginning to
worship the Machine.

You think it irreligious to have
found out a way of my own.

I worship nothing.

I am most advanced.

I do not think you irreligious,

because there's no such thing
as religion left.

All I meant was...

And besides,
there is no new way out.

So it is always supposed.

Except through the vomitories,

for which one must have
an Egression permit,

it is impossible to get out.
The Book says so.

Well, the Book's wrong,
for I have been outside on foot.

Do you know that we have lost
the sense of space?

Well,
I determined to recover it...

...and I began by walking

up and down
the tunnel outside my room.

That was my first lesson.

Man's feet are the measure
for distance,

his hands are the measure
for ownership,

his body is the measure
for all that is lovable,

and desirable and strong.

I developed my sense of space,
and my muscles.

I think I should have been
content with this,

but as I walked
and brooded, it occurred to me,

that our cities had been built

when men still breathed
the outer air,

and that there had been
ventilation shafts

for the workmen.

Had they been destroyed,
by all the food tubes,

and medicine tubes,
and music tubes,

that the Machine had evolved?

Or did traces of them remain?

One thing was certain.

If I came upon them anywhere,

it would be in the tunnels
of the topmost storey.

Don't think that l
was not a coward.

It is not the proper thing,
it is not mechanical,

it's not decent
to walk along a tunnel.

I did not fear
that I might tread

on a live rail and be killed.

I feared something far
more intangible...

...doing what was not
contemplated by the Machine.

Then I said to myself,

“Man is the measure”,
and I went.

Don't. Don't talk
of these terrible things.

You are throwing
civilisation away.

But I’d got back
the sense of space.

I climbed out
into the outer air.

As I climbed, silence came.
The Machine hums.

Did you know that?

I thought, “This silence means
that I am doing wrong.”

But the spirits of the dead
comforted me.

I felt that, for the first time,

a protest had been lodged
against corruption,

and all these tubes and buttons
and machineries,

neither came
into the world with us,

nor will they follow us out,

neither do they matter supremely
while we are here.

Kuno, there is no room
for such a person in the world.

You are fated.

I am ashamed to have borne
such a son.

Don't touch me!

We are too different, Mother.

I don't think
this is interesting you.

There are no ideas in it.

You have brought me
across the world to hear you.

So tell me what happened.

I came out
in the hills of Wessex.

I knew it was Wessex,

because I had taken care
to study a lecture

on the subject before starting.

I was in a hollow.

The air filled my hollow
as water fills a bowl.

I could crawl about.

I breathed a mixture
in which the air that hurts,

predominated whenever I tried
to climb the sides.

I saw low, colourless hills.

And I felt that
those hills had called

with incalculable force
to men in the past,

and that men had loved them.

Now they sleep,
perhaps for ever.

But happy the man,
happy the woman,

who awakes the hills of Wessex.

For though they sleep,
they will never die.

You talk like
the old literature.

We have harnessed
Leviathan, Kuno.

All this praise of nature,
all this fear of nature,

they ring false
as the prattle of a child.

Cannot you see,
cannot all you lecturers see,

that it is we who are dying.

We created the Machine
to do our will,

but it cannot do our will now.

It has robbed us of
the sense of space,

the sense of touch.

It has blurred
every human relation--

Nonsense!
I know several thousand people.

Human relationship
has advanced enormously.

ln certain directions.

But what of love?

The Machine has reduced love
to a carnal act.

Oh, the Machine develops,
but not on our lines.

The Machine proceeds,
but not to our goal.

If it could work without us,
it would let us die.

- Blasphemies, blasphemies!
- Oh, I have no remedy...

...or at least, only one.

To tell men,
again and again...

Blasphemies. Blasphemies.

...that I have seen the hills
of Wessex, as Alfred saw them

when he overthrew the Danes.

That is not what I meant.

Tell me how you
returned to civilisation.

You crawled along the surface
of the Earth to a vomitory,

and there your conduct was reported
to the Central Committee?

By no means.

I had a pool of air,

which was escaping
from the ventilation shaft.

But by evening,
the air had begun to stop.

Not until it was too late,
did I realise

what the stoppage implied.

You see, the gap in the tunnel
had been mended.

Yes. The Mending Apparatus.

The Mending Apparatus
was after me.

Worms, long white worms...

I cried out, I cried for help.

I was dragged away
from the living hills...

...and the last thing I saw

before the stopper
closed over us...

...were certain clouds,

and I knew that a man of my sort
lived in the sky.

Then I woke up in this room,

surrounded by artificial air,

artificial light,
artificial peace.

- It will end in homelessness.
- I wish it would.

The Machine
has been most merciful.

I prefer the mercy of God.

By that superstitious phrase,

do you mean you could live
in the outer air?

Yes.

Have you ever seen
round the vomitories,

the bones of those who were
extruded after the Great Rebellion?

- Yes.
- They were left

where they perished
for our edification.

A few crawled away,
but they too perished.

Who can doubt it?

And so with the homeless
of our own day.

The surface of the Earth
supports life no longer.

Ferns and a little grass maybe,

but all higher forms
have perished.

Has any aeroship
detected them?

No.

Has any lecturer
dealt with them?

No.

Then why this obstinacy?

Because I have seen her
in the sunlight.

Because she came to my help
when I called.

Because she, too, was entangled
by the worms and,

luckier than I,
was killed by one of them

piercing her throat!

[whirring]

He is mad.

[low humming]

I want to summon a respirator.

[Machine]
That, and nothing else?

Nothing else.

No gloves for your hands?
No hygienic clothes?

- No dietetic tabloids?
- No.

Respirators have been
abolished.

Abolished! But why?

Advanced thinkers
have always held it foolish

to visit the surface
of the Earth.

It is unproductive of ideas,

and has no connection with
the habits that really matter.

Those who still want to know
what the Earth is like,

have only to look
into some cinematophote.

[whirring]

Who's there? Who's there?

[electric fizzling]
[steady bleeping]

[fizzling and bleeping
becoming louder]

[woman over Machine]
Have you seen him?

[Vashti] No. I haven't
communicated with my son

for nearly two Machine years.

- We have nothing in common.
- What happened?

He was reverting
to some savage type.

The very hair
on his head showed that.

On atavism
the Machine can have no mercy.

What did he do?

He wanted to go outside,
to the surface of the Earth.

He went,
without an Egression permit.

How extraordinary.

What did the Central Committee
think about that?

They were most displeased.

They threatened him
with homelessness.

- Only threatened?
- Fortunately for him.

What a distressing time
it must have been for you.

I find comfort in the Machine,
my friend.

A strange feeling of peace
comes over me

when I handle the Book.

I believe I am growing
more spiritual.

Naturally.
The Machine feeds us,

and clothes us, and houses us.

The Machine
is the friend of ideas

and the enemy of superstition.

The Machine is omnipotent,
eternal.

- Blessed is the Machine.
- Yes.

I think it is
the Mending Apparatus,

that most impresses me.

I often ask it to intercede
on my behalf.

- For me it is the Book.
- Praise the Machine.

Praise the Machine.

I asked for euthanasia
again today.

Why?

My lecture was unsuccessful.

I wanted the homelessness

that is beyond
all human conception.

I am easily depressed
these days.

The death rate is not permitted
to exceed the birth rate.

- Were you refused?
- Yes.

Oh, there was never a more
unfortunate woman than myself.

I can't even be sure
of my lecture music these days.

It gets worse and worse
each time I summon it.

l, too, have my troubles.

Sometimes my ideas
are interrupted

by a slight jarring noise.

What is it?

I do not know,

whether it is inside my head
or inside the wall.

- Complain, in either case.
- I have complained.

My complaint was forwarded

to the Committee
of the Mending Apparatus.

What did they say?

They said the defect would be
put right shortly.

- Praise the Machine.
- Praise the Machine.

[high-pitched whirring]

[Vashti] I wish to complain

to the Committee
of the Mending Apparatus.

It’s about my music.
It still gets worse and worse.

[Machine] The defect
will be set right shortly.

Shortly? At once!

Why should I be worried
by imperfect music?

If you do not
mend it at once,

I shall complain
to the Central Committee.

No personal complaints are
received

by the Central Committee.

To whom should I make
my complaint then?

- Through us.
- I complain then.

Your complaint shall be
forwarded in its turn.

Have others complained?

That question is unmechanical.
The Committee cannot answer it.

[buzzing]

Who is it?
I’m tired.

Mother?

- Who is it?
- Kuno.

[Vashti] Where are you?
What happened to you?

[Kuno]
I’m well.

I was transformed
not far away from you.

We are quite close.

Visualise your face.

The Machine has been
most merciful.

You could have been
rendered homeless.

I know.

Instead they have
merely kept me in my cell,

denied me all human contact,

refused me permission
to become a father,

abolished respirators--

Why have you called me?

I have discovered a new thought.

Tell it to me then.

It’s a terrible thought,
it will frighten you.

Fear is out of date.
Tell me.

The Machine stops.

What do you say?

The Machine is stopping.
I know the signs.

[scoffs]

Can you imagine
anything more absurd?

[chuckling]

I know the signs, I tell you.

The bath water
is no longer fresh,

the artificial fruit is mouldy.

There are defective
rhymes emitted

- by the poetry machine.
- Don't be angry.

I couldn't help laughing.

Even if your ridiculous ideas
were true,

the Mending Apparatus would soon
put all these things right.

No one understands the Machine
as a whole any more.

What nonsense!

There are master brains
who understand every part of it.

Those master brains
have perished.

They have left full directions.

True, but their successors have
each of them only mastered

a portion
of those directions.

This is the madness, Kuno,
madness of another kind.

Have you had no troubles?

I have detected a slight...

sigh at the crisis
of the Brisbane Symphony,

that is all I have
to complain of.

What does it sound like?

Like someone in pain.

But the Committee
of the Mending Apparatus

tell me that it shall be
remedied shortly.

Have you complained to the Committee
of the Mending Apparatus?

Of course.

Complain again,
and see what happens.

Kuno! Kuno!

Ridiculous boy.

Absurd! The Machine stops!

The phrase means nothing,
nothing at all.

[random voices echoing]
Someone is meddling with the Machine!

Someone is trying to make himself king,
to introduce the personal element.

Punish the man
with homelessness.

To the rescue!

Avenge the Machine!
Avenge the Machine!

War!
Kill the man!

[laughing]

[clanking]

What's happened?

It will not work.

Are you there?

Are you there, my friend,
or are you asleep?

[woman over Machine]
How can I sleep?

Over the whole world, Vashti,
think of it,

over the whole world.

ln Sumatra, in Wessex,

in the innumerable cities
of Courtland and Brazil,

beds failed to appear.

[buzzing]

[Machine]
Your attention, please.

This is
an official announcement

by the Committee
of the Mending Apparatus.

There has been
widespread failure

in the appearance of beds.

There should be no panic.

Repeat,
there should be no panic.

The reason is simple
and un-alarming.

The Mending Apparatus
is itself in need of mending.

[woman over machine]
I see.

A frank confession.

ln its own good time
it will resume its duties.

Don't worry.
The Machine still links us.

Under the seas, beneath
the roots of the mountains,

run the wires through
which we see and hear.

- But have you heard the rumour?
- What rumour?

- About euthanasia.
- I’ve heard nothing.

There is a rumour that
euthanasia, too,

is out of action.

And that pain and suffering
have reappeared among men.

Impossible!
I cannot believe it.

You have been listening
to subversive gossip, Vashti.

It will land you in trouble
one day.

Why?

I have heard talk of 'measures'.

- What measures?
- Oh, it was hysterical talk,

of course, but someone
was mentioning

the possibility
of a 'provisional dictatorship'.

The inhabitants of Sumatra
have even been asked

to familiarise themselves
with the workings of

the central power station...
in case.

If the Machine has any enemies,

I’m sure they will
soon be got under.

I have heard that
new nerve centres are evolving,

to do the work even
more magnificently than before.

Yes, courage...
Courage!

What matters so long as
the Machine goes on?

To it the darkness
and the light are one!

Excuse me,
I have a lecture to give.

[Vashti over recorder] I shall continue
my lecture on Australian music...

[becoming crackly, distorted]
...in the pre-Mongolian period.

Describing the great
outburst of song

that followed
the Chinese conquest.

[Vashti's voice becomes
increasingly fragmented]

Remote and primeval...
[crackling]

as were the methods of l-San-So
and the Brisbane School.

Yet, I think that study of these

might repay
the musicians of today.

They had, above all, freshness.
They had... ideas.

At last.

What's happened?
I complain!

Friends! Friends!

There was no applause,
it's most distressing!

I am greatly
in need of sympathy... Friends!

[crackling]

The Machine stops...

[speaking quickly] I wish to make
a complaint to the Central Committee,

I wish to complain to the Committee
of the Mending Apparatus,

I wish to complain...
[repeating rapidly]

[whirring]

What's wrong?

Silence!

[high-pitched sonic wailing]

[man screams]

[high-pitched sonic wailing]

[sonic wailing continues]

[thunderous explosion]

I am trying to find the way
to the cell of Vashti,

daughter of Morder.

Sacred Book!
Holy Book! Save me from this!

I pray, I venerate you...
Bring back civilisation!

Don't let it end!

[weeping]
Kuno! I want to see my Kuno!

Kuno!

Kuno!

Kuno! Kuno!
[wheezing]

Kuno! Kuno!

[whirring]

[screams]

[crash]

[Vashti]
Kuno! Kuno!

Kuno!

Kuno!

Kuno!

[Kuno]
Mother.

- Where are you?
- Here...

- Is there any hope?
- None... for us.

Century after century
we have toiled.

Is this our reward?

- Where are you?
- Over here.

Quicker...
I’m dying.

The air is going.

[panting]

Man is dying, Mother.

Man, flower of all flesh,

the noblest
of all creatures visible.

Man, who has once made God
in his own image,

and has mirrored his strength
on the constellations,

man is dying, strangled
in the garments he has woven.

But we touch, we talk,
not through the Machine.

Yes, you were right, Kuno.

I know now
what was important on Earth.

We have come back to our own.

We die, but we have
recaptured life.

We know what they know outside.

Kuno, is it true?

Are there still men
on the surface of the Earth?

Is this tunnel really not the
end, this poisoned darkness?

I have seen them, Mother.

They are hiding
in the mist and the ferns,

until our civilisation stops.

Today, they are the homeless.
Tomorrow...

Oh, tomorrow!

Some fool will start
the Machine again tomorrow.

Never. Never!
Humanity has learnt its lesson.

[thunderous explosion]

[air rustling]

[wind blowing loudly]