Original subtitles

In 1953, Earth experienced a war of the worlds.

Common bacteria stopped the aliens,

but it didn't kill them.

Instead, the aliens lapsed into a state of deep hibernation.

Now the aliens have been resurrected,

more terrifying than before.

In 1953 aliens started taking over the world.

Today, they're taking over our bodies.

This is Harrison Blackwood.

These may be the last words I ever speak on this Earth.

Hey, Larry!

I got your favorite... Bologna on white with mayo.

Ah.

Last of the great absent-minded professors.

Always look your best for the overnight guests.

Oh, my God!

Larry?

Larry?

Larry...!

The Advocacy is indivisible,

a trinity of undisputed strength and wisdom.

But now we are less than three,

capable of only the most simplistic activity.

The counsel we give is less than perfect

and becoming increasingly unreliable.

We took one brief journey among the humans,

and now the survival of our race...

A race superior to any organism in this galaxy...

Is threatened by an insignificant disease.

What is the diagnosis?

The disease... one the humans call chicken pox...

Has been purged, Advocate.

You're saying that soon the Advocacy will be three again?

Yes... if the final critical procedure

with the human brain matter is successful.

We don't understand!

It seems that the degenerative effects

of the human disease continue to plague

the sick one's mental capacity.

We're attempting to freeze the degenerative cycle

so the healthy cells can rebuild.

If we can reduce this human brain matter

to its essence, we feel we can accomplish this.

This healing must work.

If not, our invasion force will be left without leadership,

without our counsel.

Proceed!

Suzanne. Hmm?

We got a problem.

Somebody call off the reggae festival?

I said a problem.

That's it? That's all you can say?

Well, if I could say much more,

it wouldn't be a problem, now, would it?

Okay. I'll get the others.

Advocate, our resources are woefully inadequate.

We have failed!

We must find more power to heal us,

or our mission to this planet will fail!

Now, for the last few weeks,

we all know that the alien transmissions

have multiplied and increased in number and strength.

The final push. I hate it when you talk like that.

You're depressing me now.

Come on, Harrison, they could be having

a very big problem.

That's what we all thought, Colonel.

But two hours ago, it turned into this.

Weirdness.

It's the calm before the storm.

Are you sure this isn't an equipment failure?

Maybe you're just misreading these.

I mean, what about sun spots or... interference from

ion storms in the outer atmosphere?

Borrowing books from my library, Colonel?

Just trying to keep up, Doctor.

Sorry folks, it is not sun spots.

And it is not ion storms.

It's nothing we have ever seen before.

And my equipment is checking out 100%, Colonel.

Now, their transmissions went from precise and predictable...

If you can call anything alien "predictable"...

To totally random.

Like the coyote.

Winning the Obscure Reference Award.

More reading? No. Living.

The Indians understand the coyote.

The coyote, it seems to...

bark wildly, with no rhyme or reason.

But it only seems that way.

The barking coyote is really exercising

sophisticated communication skills, about... protection,

about territory, about mating, defense.

I thought research

hadn't proven any clear communication pattern.

We really don't know what they're saying.

You may not.

We do.

What's going on here?

What are they doing?

This is not working.

We have no other choice.

At least none that our reduced mental capacity can figure out.

If we hope to cure the sickness,

we'll need more brains... Living brains...

And we'll need more power.

That means moving openly among the humans.

We will be vulnerable, without any support.

How can we give guidance to others

when we can barely guide ourselves?

I'm only thinking of the dangers.

The dangers of failure far outweigh

any other consideration.

We are nothing without your counsel, Advocate.

A most prophetic observation.

Originally we'd intended to put your brain matter to good use.

Now you vile creatures can serve a higher purpose.

Now we will use

your bodies.

Bring us the three strongest.

As you wish.

We aren't well... our collective consciousness is wavering. Yes.

One dies, all die.

We're not doing this right.

We've made the wrong decision.

Yes. But what?

I think... I think we're walking

when what we really need is a vehicle.

When we need our own counsel more than ever,

we are increasingly indecisive.

Come.

This is too strange.

What?

They've stopped transmitting.

Not a peep. Nothing. Silence.

It's a silence like death.

How can they fill the sky with transmissions one minute

and then nothing the next?

What the hell are they up to?

It's bad enough when you can see them;

- it's worse when you can't. - Maybe they are gone.

Maybe they were infected by the virus like in 1953

and they're all dead.

Maybe that last flurry of transmissions

were their appeals for help before they died.

What do you think, Doc?

I don't know. I don't know what to think.

Maybe they...

they've gone back to where they came from.

How? Walk?

Hello?

Dr. Blackwood, please.

It's for you.

Hello?

Dr. Blackwood, it's, uh, Nurse Hamilton at Whitewood.

Yes. I-Is there anything wrong?

Well, there's been a change

in Miss Van Buren's condition.

Is there any way that

you could come up here?

Evening.

I was wondering if you could do us a favor.

Sure!

What do you

need?

Why am I

here?

Because I want you to hear what Sylvia has to say

with your own ears.

I don't need to hear anything.

I've seen the evidence.

That's real.

Still think this is all over, huh?

All over but the shouting.

Boy, I wish I could buy that assumption.

Well, you'd rather buy an old woman's nightmares.

Colonel, those nightmares are alive and breathing out there,

and they're scheming to take over this planet.

It isn't safe out there.

Dr. Blackwood?

Surprise Harry, Colonel Ironhorse.

Guess what!

What, Sylvia?

Wh-What's wrong?

Oh, come on, Harry.

Look!

Can't you see a difference?

Can't you see it in my eyes?

Oh, I haven't felt this good in years. Look.

Look at my hands.

They're as steady as a rock.

I even gave myself a manicure.

Oh, Harry, what's wrong?

You look terrible.

He's been very

depressed, Miss Van Buren.

Oh, please call me Sylvia, Colonel.

What's the matter?

What are you afraid of?

Aliens, Sylvia.

Oh.

Yeah, I know.

I know, Harry.

God knows I know how that feels.

But you don't have to worry, not anymore.

They're gone, aren't they, Sylvia?

Can't you feel the difference?

God, I wish I could!

Oh, Harry, do you know how long it's been

since I've been out of this place?

Years.

Just years and years!

But that's all over with now.

Sylvia, where are you going?

I'm going out.

I'm going outside, and I'm...

Well, it's just for a few days... But I'm going

to go out, and I'm going to breathe it all in, and...

I'm free, Harry.

I'm free!

Now, of all people,

I would think you'd be happy for me.

I am.

You feel better?

Why should I?

Now, wait a minute, Harrison.

You dragged me all this way to hear what Sylvia had to say.

I heard it. It's over.

It's not over, Colonel, until they're all dead.

Even the dead aren't safe.

Now, who in hell would do something like that?

20 years on the force, Roberts!

I thought I'd seen everything,

but now, they're stealing brains.

Oh. Counting the murdered attendant

and, uh, and all those rooms down here,

I make it an even three dozen.

Uh, plus they're missing some bone saws.

What the hell is going on here?

What would you do if you had all those brains?

Make detective, sir.

Well, at least we don't have to take the bodies

to the morgue.

Blackwood!

I've heard of morbid curiosity, but there is a limit!

Look at this.

It's incredible!

Who the hell are you?

Colonel Ironhorse.

Special Forces.

Special Forces, huh?

Somebody declare a war and forget to tell me?

Now, listen, Colonel, this is my investigation.

You don't just waltz onto a crime scene.

Call the White House. They'll clear us.

The top of his head was literally torn off.

Thank you for sharing, Doctor.

Until the President returns my call,

how about you two getting out of here?

How many brains were taken?

Uh, three dozen.

And all they took were brains?

Right, except for five they left behind.

The skull tops were removed, but they didn't take the brains.

Do you mind?

I'd like to see your identification!

Get the medical histories of all the bodies.

Include the five cadavers that still have brains.

Do you mind?

It's nice to see you up

and around, but now...

The intriguing thing is why

they left those particular brains behind.

We can't go around just jumping in...

It's fair to assume

they rejected them for some reason.

I want to know why.

Are you telling me that this was done by...

aliens?

Try and keep up, Colonel.

You coming? It's dinner.

Why don't you start without me?

Mrs. Pennyworth has made a vegetarian

chili just for you.

Suzanne, there has got to be a reason

why the aliens have suddenly stopped transmitting.

Harrison, you have to eat sometime.

Oh, it just means more for us if he doesn't.

I've got the medical

reports of the cadavers in the morgue.

Pretty gruesome stuff.

Harrison.

Look, why don't you close the door behind you?

And I don't want to be disturbed

for any reason.

You're Out of Your Mind.

Go on in.

Thank you.

You're Out of Your Mind.

What can I do for you?

I need brains.

This place is full of airheads.

You're out of luck today, honey.

Don't count on it.

You're finished now.

I am?

I thought a perm took a whole hour?

Not anymore.

We don't have time.

I hate it!

What are you going to do with this?

How about a little off the top?

Why don't you just go in there and...

and talk to him?

Harrison said he did not want to be disturbed,

period.

You know, if he keeps acting like this, they're gonna

give him Sylvia's old room.

He's done this before.

Look, maybe he'll listen to me.

Oh. I'll pay to watch that!

Fire!

Oh!

Oh my God!

Harrison!

Is he all right?

Well...?

I don't know.

Harrison!

Harrison, can you hear me?

He's not

breathing, and I can't get a pulse.

He looks dead to me.

I'll give him C.P.R.

Lasagna for lunch, Colonel?

Blackwood!

If this is your idea of another practical joke,

it's not the slightest bit funny!

Hey, it had its moments!

You weren't even breathing!

I was, too,

breathing, and I was breathing very slowly.

It's an ancient Hindu technique

of lowering your heart rate to become one with the problem.

You are fixated,

a victim of your own obsessions.

I'm fine, Suzanne.

I'm just trying to figure all this out.

If I were you, I'd stop worrying so much about me,

and I'd start worrying about what the aliens are up to.

And what are the aliens up to, Doctor?

Look, I was this close

to figuring it out my own way alone

when suddenly the room was filled with people.

You haven't figured it out yet, Harrison?

You're losing your touch.

I'm afraid he's lost more than that, Mr. Drake.

Look, Colonel,

I'm fully aware of your opinions about my theories.

Now, either get out of my head,

or go with it, all right?

If you think that will help, Doctor.

Thanks.

All right.

What's wrong with this picture?

Well, if it is

the aliens, uh,

what do they need human brains for?

Mm, prehistoric finds indicate

some cultures ritually eat their enemies.

To celebrate victory,

warriors of certain tribes would eat the liver of their foes.

Chopped or with onions?

Raw.

They did it to gain power.

That's it!

We've got it!

We do?

It has to be the aliens!

Don't you see?

The only common denominator of the brains

that were left behind are those brain diseases.

Why not a satanic cult?

Because devil-worshippers

and maniacs and wolves have one thing in common.

They would have taken all the brains.

But by process

of elimination, the only ones on that list who would

limit themselves to healthy brains

has to be the aliens!

Theoretically.

Sounds pretty slim to me, Doctor.

What do they want to do

with those brains anyway, Harrison?

That's what I was putting together

when you all got together and decided to rescue me.

Hey.

Don't follow me, please.

Units 31, seven, and 14,

report to Eastman Street, north of Braddock.

Multiple DBs, perps unknown and dangerous.

Proceed with caution.

Coroner's wagon is on its way.

Okay, step back.

Everybody back.

Hey, hold on.

I want to ask you a question.

You any idea what's going on around here?

I really don't.

I'm sorry.

Still two more left inside the beauty parlor.

At last we've reached our destination.

Let's hope there's still time for the cure.

Uh, something I can help you with?

Yes, I think there is.

You want a cup of coffee?

You buying?

Frankly, we didn't want to sedate her,

and she kept calling for Dr. Blackwood.

Any change?

She's barricaded herself in there.

Okay, let's go in.

No, no,

no, no.

Oh, no!

No! No! No! Don't do it!

Sylvia! Sylvia!

It's Suzanne McCullough, Harrison's...

Harry's friend! Oh, Suzanne. Oh, Suzanne.

I was free. I was free.

Oh, no, no free lunches.

There's no free lunches. Sylvia, it's all right.

It's all right. It won't be all right again.

I thought I was all right, but I'm not.

I was wrong... oh, no, oh, God.

I-I can feel them.

I can feel them!

We're here.

It's all better now.

It's all better.

We're going to take care of everything.

You have nothing to worry about.

It's all right.

I'm so tired.

I'm so tired.

Oh.

We've stepped in.

She's released all responsibility

for this trauma to us now.

She'll sleep.

We should leave, and let her rest.

Something has caused her to react this way.

Something important is going on.

What would Harrison do?

Your guess is as good...

No, better than mine.

Maybe there's a clue here...

in something she's written or drawn.

Do you remember that speech you gave to Harrison

about obsessions?

What was the last thing

you remember Sylvia doing?

Maybe she was working on a particular drawing.

The last thing that we caught Miss Van Buren doing was that.

Had to take her crayons away.

Can't have the residents drawing on the walls.

Even those who have been here as long

as Miss Van Buren.

This is Harrison.

Doc?

People have been looking all over for you.

Hang on, I'll put you on the box.

Go ahead.

I'm coming back.

Where are you?!

I'm at a beauty salon at the west end of town.

They've struck again.

23 victims this time.

23 living victims.

I don't have a clue as to what's going on.

I don't even know if it's the aliens anymore.

Be sure.

Sylvia's had another relapse...

Bad anxiety attack.

She did? What did she say?

She said...

She said they're back.

Back.

Where?

Apparently, too nearby to tell.

But she's made some drawings, Harrison,

a triangle with a kind of lightning bolt inside.

We can't figure out

what it means.

Or if it means anything.

I think I might.

Doc?

Harrison.

Doc?

He hung up.

Come on, baby, boot it up.

Norton, the television.

I finally get five minutes to my...

Norton, what's going on?

I'm working on it myself, all right?

Did you guys mention something about a lightning bolt?

This is an awfully big coincidence,

even for a skeptic like me.

Who are you calling?

Harrison.

You didn't get hold of him, did you?

"We're sorry, your party is away from its unit

or out of our service range."

Where is he?

We'll find him.

It's just a matter of time.

Isn't it more important for us to go back to the cavern

so that we can lead our followers back into battle?

The human bore witness to our healing.

He needs to die.

Our brethren need us alive.

Let's do both.

First, we will retrace our steps.

Okay.

It's 3:13 on the seventh.

This is Harrison Blackwood,

and these may be the last words I ever speak on this Earth.

Aliens in human bodies are outside the door.

They're about to break through my barricade.

The message that I want to get

to the people who may come after me

in this fight against these invaders

is that the aliens can be beaten.

I know that now.

I've been watching them attempt

to heal one of their own.

That's what they've been doing here.

Some microbe or disease or virus or some bacteria

has infected them and made them sick.

That means that they are vulnerable.

It's up to the Blackwood project

to exploit this vulnerability, whatever it may be,

and to continue this fight.

It may be the end for me,

but I'm going to take a few of you with me.

Whoa!

Ironhorse!

Where are they?!

We didn't see anything or anyone!

You're all right!

When we didn't hear from you, we...

Let's go!

They're gone.

What is that?

That's alien medical science, Colonel.

It works like a distillery.

Somehow they're able to reduce the brains

to their very essence,

and then one very potent drop of this extract,

and the sick alien is cured.

This is a perfect example of the alien logic systems

and problem-solving abilities.

It's absolutely amazing.

It's so complex, and it's so simple.

I'll look around and see what I can pick up.

Oh, Suzanne, look at this container.

What could it possibly be made of

to withstand so much voltage?

Something... not of this world.

I can't even tell if it's elemental or synthetic.

We are going to learn so much.