All language subtitles for The Magus

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Excuse me.

- Mr. Nicholas Urfe?
- Yes.

Welcome to Phraxos.

Welcome to the Lord Byron School.

How did you know I was coming today?

We Greeks, we know everything.

No, no. I just happened to be here.
I guessed.

Myrivilis. Also teacher of English.

I hope you'll call me Meli.

That's Greek for "honey."
My nickname.

Uh, you must be tired.

The school is not far from here.

- Did you have a nice journey?
- Yes.

I'm sorry you are here
in such sad circumstances.

- They told you in London?
- Yes.

We are very lucky to have you
on such short notice.

I wanted to get out of England.

Why did this chap,
Williamson, kill himself?

A complete mystery.

After Christmas, he was
a little strange, moody, but nothing.

About a month ago,
he went to Athens for the weekend.

And the next thing we hear,
he's dead.

A whole bottle of Seconal.

I hope you like simple pleasures.

Nothing to do here except swim...

walk, drink ouzo.

No women.

- Good.
- Good?

Good.

It's not much, I'm afraid.

It'll do.

- Was this his room?
- I'm sorry. It was the only one-

Forget it.

- What's "The Waiting Room"?
- An evening duty perhaps.

Who knows?

Uh, the headmaster
would like to see you later.

I've been hearing
that sentence all my life.

He is going.

We are going.

You are going.

They are going.

Now, once through, on your own.

I am going.

He is going.

We are going.

You are going.

They are going.

A post for you.

You need this more than I do.

What's wrong?

I don't love you.

Deep down.
Deep, deep down in you...

there's somebody totally different.

That's who I love.

Nicholas, meet Anne.

My quite but absolutely
favorite air hostess.

- And what's Nicholas?
- Now Nicholas is one of the new elite.

Impeccable background.
His father was a bus driver.

A bus conductor, actually.

Scholarship to university.

Cracked up. Bad degree.

Huge chip on his shoulder.

- Now classless, rootless.
- And jobless.

All the symptoms
of contemporary genius.

I may even publish him one day.

I may even let him.

- He deserves it.
- Are you a writer?

I've got everything
a poet needs... except poems.

I've got everything
an air hostess needs...

except illusions.

Twin spirits.

"We shall not cease from exploration.

"And the end of all our exploring...

"will be to arrive
where we started...

and know the place
for the first time. "

Good afternoon.

Good afternoon.
I found this on the-

I chose well?

I built on the site
of a medieval chapel.

Very nice. I came to return this.

You came here to meet me.
Please, life is short.

My name is Conchis.

My name is Urfe.
From the school.

I find life long.

- Oh, tea is ready.
- How did you know-

There is a poem of the Tang Dynasty.

"Here on the frontier
there are falling leaves.

"All of my neighbors
are all barbarians.

"And you,
you're a thousand miles away.

There are always
two cups on my table."

Full of China tea?

The best darjeeling.

I believe you knew Williamson.

Oh.

My housekeeper, Maria.

My manservant, Andreas.

Please.

You did know him, didn't you?

Enjoy your tea, please.

Do you live here alone?

What some would call alone.

What was it?

Nothing.

I must go.

And you have a long walk.

Do you mind telling me
now what the game is?

- The game?
- Yes.

I don't understand.

That's my line.

How did you know
I was coming over here today?

I am psychic.

I should like you to come next weekend
and stay with me.

I think we have
many things to discover.

- "We shall not cease from exploration."
- You read the passage.

- Wasn't it left for me to read?
- Until next weekend.

Thank you.

Tell no one over there
you have met me.

Believe nothing they say.

They understand nothing.
They know nothing.

They mean nothing.

- How long have you known Conchis?
- Who?

The old nutcase who lives in the villa
over on the south side.

Oh, come on.

It must have been you
who told him I was going over there.

- But-
- Like Williamson.

Williamson? He never
set foot out of the school.

You never met this man, Conchis?

Someone's been pulling
your leg, my friend.

That villa belongs to a man
from Athens- a Dr. Lambros.

- Just a minute, Meli-
- I remember now.

Yes, there was a man named Conchis,
but he died years ago.

"Death is-"

Death is, like, not true.

- A lie.
- A lie.

Some people say
he helped the Germans in the war.

But no one knows.

The truth-

I was admiring your gravestone
the other day.

You have heard of
a marriage of convenience?

There are also
deaths of convenience.

- The war?
- Mm-hmm.

Aren't you taking a risk,
telling me who you are?

Aren't you taking a risk
coming back?

Knowing my name is Conchis
is not quite the same...

as knowing who I really am.

Do you like Modigliani?

Mmm, very impressive.

Bonnard.

Do you play some other instrument?

Of merely sentimental value.

These were done by some Byzantine.
Fra Angelico.

Oh. Same period.

It belonged to her.

We were once to be married.

She died during the first World War.

- I've missed you.
- Careful. You'll be in love next.

I never use four-letter words.

- Did you send out your application?
- Yes.

- And you told them you're bringing your French mistress?
- Of course.

How was the flight?

If one more dirty old man asks me
to show him around swinging London-

But, darling, we need the money.

Honestly, if I didn't know
you'd be here-

I must have a bath.

- Cigarettes?
- In my bag.

Why exactly do you carry
a paperweight around?

Please put it back.

It's rather nice.
I think I'll keep it.

Please.

Another man?

It's- It's a sort of-

I never fly without it.

So-

About two years ago, I...

had to have an abortion.

I wanted to kill myself.

One day I saw this
in an antique shop.

It seemed to say something I needed.

Still need sometimes.

Go on.

It says...

that right at
the very heart of things...

there's something not spoiled-

un-betrayed.

Everything I'm not...

and the world's not.

It's-What does an apple have?

A core?

It's the core.

- The core of what?
- Of everything.

It's the one thing
I shall never give away.

If I ever lost it,
I think I would die.

Is something wrong?

No.

It reminded you of someone.

Being psychic, Mr. Conchis?

One does not have to be that to see
you are not the happiest of young men.

I am just a child of my century.

Now, I will show you something.

The ultimate reality.

Not the hammer and sickle,
not the stars and stripes...

not lysergic acid, not the sun...

not gold, not yin and yang.

But...

the smile.

And what have you got
in store for me now?

Shall we leave it to chance?

Let us see what the, uh, cards say.

The tarot.
You must cut three times.

Oh. The Hanged Man.

He stands for selfishness.

The High Priestess.

She stands for mystery and wisdom.

The Magus, or the Magician.

He stands for-

for many things.

Oh. I think we need more brandy.

Who was that?

Who's just gone round there?

Questions are wasted on Andreas.

He's a mute.

- Who was it?
- Won't you sit down?

If you won't answer
any of my questions...

you could at least explain why.

I will explain many things
if you pass the test.

Nicholas, how highly do you...

value your life?

There's a fairly
widespread impression...

which I share,
that it's not worth much.

Then you would risk death
without any qualms?

Why not?

All men feel the need to risk death
at least once in their life.

War is a very unscientific answer
to that need.

If I had my way,
all young men would go to a clinic...

and throw a dice.

Numbers two to six would mean life.

Number one, death.
A painless death.

No mess, no cruelty...

no destruction of innocents.

One throw of the dice.

These were issued
to certain special agents during the war...

in case of interrogation.

Prussic acid.
Death is immediate.

A war in one second.

Wouldn't a corpse
be rather embarrassing for you?

Not at all.
Another suicide.

If you mean what I think you mean...

you go first.

I am not playing at make-believe.

Swear to me that
if the number is one...

you will take the pill.

Yes.

I congratulate you.
You have passed the test.

You refused to die
on the throw of a loaded dice.

Many years ago, so did I.

I was an only child.

We lived in London.

I, uh-

I had the misfortune
to be a musical prodigy.

No time for games or friends.
Instead...

endless hours of practicing,
practicing, practicing.

When I was 17...

in the year 1913...

we had new neighbors.

Her name was Lily.

It seemed as if we were destined.

She, too, was an only child.

She, too, was musical.

The happiest year of my life passed.

We became engaged.

There seemed no cloud
on our horizon.

But a terrible cloud was forming...

in a little town called Sarajevo.

We were on the brink
of the first World War.

The great majority of those
who volunteered were like sheep.

They simply conformed.

I'd been brought up
outside the flock.

So when Lord Kitchener
pointed his finger at me...

I shook my head.

In short, Nicholas...

I decided as you decided
a few minutes ago.

Of course, there was a difference.

On the table in 1914...

these were real.

Not just kirsch...

in colored candy.

I tried to make Lily understand
why I refused to enlist.

I poured out my feelings to her.

All the arguments, the reasons...

why she must go with me to America.

But I was condemned.

Not by her, but by her idealism.

That look.

That last look,
it will never be past.

It's in my every second till I die.

I selfishly thought
there was always time on my side.

I would return.

I was young and I was wrong.

She died?

In the early hours
of February 19, 1916.

There was a typhoid epidemic.

She was working in a hospital.

Poor girl.

Hmm. The dead live.

How?

By love.

No, no.

Nice work.

Ah, Nicholas.
I trust you slept well?

Very well.

It must have been the "Kleine Nachtmusik"
that you and your friend provided.

- You saw her?
- Mr. Conchis, you don't expect me to believe-

I knew I was right
the moment I saw you.

You cannot believe you are psychic.
That's normal.

Believing doesn't come into it.

I am not psychic.

I saw a girl, not a ghost.

Once bitten, twice shy.

She must like you.

Where is she?

I am not psychic.

Yours is a characteristic reaction
of your century to disbelieve, to disprove.

You are like a porcupine.

When it has its spines up,
it cannot eat.

If you do not eat, you will starve.

My dear Lily.

Oh, may I present Mr. Nicholas Urfe.

Miss Montgomery.

It is very warm.

Yes, it is.

Mr. Urfe is the young schoolmaster
I mentioned.

Teaching must be
a most interesting profession.

Is there any news from Flanders?

Nothing of importance.

Maurice has told me
of your weak heart. I am sorry.

I ventured to explain to Miss Montgomery
why you were unable to volunteer.

I see. Thank you.

They also serve
who only stand and teach.

Excuse me.

Been here long?

I've not been anywhere long.

I meant, uh, on the island.

Island? What island?

Excellent return of service,
Miss Montgomery.

- Come on.
- Come on where?

Which delightful old English county
do you hail from?

Massachusetts?
California?

My father works for the Times.

Until two years ago,
he was their American correspondent.

- I was brought up there.
- Two years ago being?

I'm surprised, Mr. Urfe,
that a person of your education...

is unable to subtract two from 1915.

Game and set.

Smoke? May I?

It cannot be very good
for your heart.

I can pinch your bottom...
or kiss you.

- Which shall it be?
- Mr. Urfe!

Do you love Maurice?

We all love him so deeply.

- We?
- His other visitors and myself.

You mean there are more ghosts?

Maurice does not
like the word "ghost."

Or "actress"?

We're all actors and actresses,
Mr. Urfe.

You included.

Of course.
On the stage of the world.

Mr. Urfe is very understanding.

Understanding?

Nicholas, would you care
for a cigar before you go?

- Thank you, yes.
- Would you, dear?

Your cigar, Mr. Urfe.

What is this?

What is what?

Okay.

I'll play.

I'd just enjoy it more
if I knew what it was all about.

Man has been saying that
for the last 10,000 years.

But the one common feature
of all the gods he has said it to...

is that not one
has ever returned an answer.

- But why me?
- Why anyone?

Why anything?

I said I'll play,
but not unless I know the rules.

Then, my friend,
this world is not for you.

All right.

You win.

But you might tell me
whether I'm your guest or your victim.

You are neither.

Is there any news from Flanders?

Nicholas? Nicholas?

Nicholas, wake up.

- What time is it?
- 7:00.

Where were you last night?

I was just wandering about
and I got lost.

What a shame.

Nicholas, I congratulate you.
She is charming.

She?

Anne.

Anne?

Last evening. She had just one hour
before the boat went back.

What did she want?

Not forgiven.

Not forgotten.

Take it easy.

It's not the end of the world.

Just the end of the affair.

One day you'll meet
someone much better.

By which you mean
you think you will.

Somebody respectable and English.

On a remote Greek island?

You're running away.
That's all it is.

Look, in this country
I am the typical nowhere man-

belonging nowhere,
going nowhere and wanted nowhere.

Oh, Nicko, this is life,
not an existentialist novel.

- We've discussed it.
- We've evaded it.

You'll miss your flight.

- I'm sorry.
- No.

That's what I can't forgive.
You're not sorry.

You are glad.

I don't love you.

Deep down.
Deep, deep down in you...

there's somebody totally different.

That's who I love.

How would he behave?

- Marry you?
- Just take me with him.

I'll have to postpone my flight.

I can get back by Wednesday.

Okay.

I don't need it anymore.

Reservations, please.

Oh, my name is Nicholas Urfe.

And I have a seat to Athens...

on Olympic Flight 063...

for Wednesday.

I want to change it.

That's right.

Can you get me on tomorrow?

Fine.

Thank you.

She's flying
the Middle Eastern route now.

She'll be in Athens the weekend after next,
Friday, 6:00, at the airport.

Thanks.

There was no one at the house.
Where are they?

You may sit down,
but you must not wet my dress.

- Where are they?
- Give me your hand.

I'll read your fortune.

Your happiness line is very broken.

Bull's-eye.

And your soul line is very crooked.

I fear you are deceitful, Mr. Urfe.

What are you?

- His mistress?
- That is most rude.

Most ill-bred!

I want to be your friend.

You make it all so difficult.

I've never been
in a lunatic asylum before.

How dare you!
How dare you!

Let me go!

It was only a joke.

Nicholas, it tolls for thee.

- Let it toll.
- You must go.

Come with me.

It doesn't toll for me.

Please. I'll wait here.

If that's a promise,
I want a guarantee.

Mr. Urfe, are you asking me
to commit osculation?

From the Latin, osculum,
meaning "mouth."

Where's Mr. Conchis?

Nicholas.

My apologies.
I was delayed on business in Athens.

Or just getting out of your costume.

So-Well, sooner or later,
it had to happen.

Of course Lily is no ghost.

And I am no more psychic
than you are.

What are you doing to that girl?

My name is really Lambros.

I'm a psychiatrist.
This is my clinic.

This film shows her
before she came under my care.

She was then at a clinic in Zurich.

This advanced type of schizophrenia...

is usually considered hopeless.

And yet, look.
Here she is today.

And in great part
because of you, Nicholas.

Still far from normal, God knows.

But not the terrible nothingness
you saw in the clinic.

The fast developing is a contribution...

of one of my most gifted students,
Dr. Soula Androutsou.

How do you do, Mr. Urfe?

You see how much Julie has improved
under Dr. Lambros's care.

That is her real name-Julie Holmes.

But you must under no circumstances
reveal that you know it.

Many of my colleagues
find my theory highly suspect.

You see, it involves not checking...

but pandering
to the patient's fantasies.

By turning monsters into play things,
she escapes her condition.

Therefore, this morning's little trick.

- And all that 1915 stuff?
- Pure fantasy.

We are always trying
to stimulate her invention.

We make a search for new ways
to surprise and deceive.

What I can't understand is...

how you could let anyone
come blind into this.

I had no reason to discuss my patient
with you before this... morning's episode.

Dr. Lambros fears a repetition
of the Williamson affair.

So he was here.

Oh, yes.
And he fell in love with her.

I must tell you. Young female schizophrenics
are often highly sexed.

He ran away with her.
Of course, we had to bring her back.

The shock could have killed her.
It killed him.

Didn't he realize
she was a mental case?

Did you?

We are taking Julie
to Zurich for some clinical tests.

We'll be back in about two weeks,
perhaps sooner.

It'll give you time to decide
if you wish to continue.

- I think I have decided.
- Hmm.

Then I must warn you.
No emotional involvement.

You see, Nicholas, you have been
neither my guest nor my victim...

but my colleague.

Catch me.

It's all right.

They want it to look
as if we're falling in love.

Oh, for heaven sake, don't tell me
you believed all that schizophrenic nonsense.

Come on.

Now listen.
They won't give us long.

First of all, I may be mad to be here,
but I'm not here because I'm mad.

- Why then?
- There isn't time.

Anyway, you wouldn't believe
anything I said.

- But my real name is Julie Holmes.
- I know. They told me.

Oh. I might have guessed.
Did he tell you his medical name?

Check that. Check anything
about him that you can.

All I want you to realize is it's not
just you who is the victim here.

We both are.

- Come away with me now then.
- We wouldn't get 50 yards.

Oh. Armed guards with Alsatians.

Of course not.
I could get away.

It's like being halfway
through some fantastic book.

And now that you're part of it-

You must believe me.

- Is this how the script goes?
- The what?

You could be working for him.

- Bonjour, l'Angleterre.
- Bonjour, la France.

I thought you missed your plane.

I didn't think you would come.

Curiosity.

Just couldn't think why you'd wanna see
a bastard like me again.

How are the dirty old men?

No younger and no cleaner.

And you?
Some lovely Greek peasant girl?

She gave me the weekend off.

Good. I want to do
something mad.

The next time you say mad...

remind me to remember
that you mean it.

Hey!

Tell him we are dying of thirst.

You've got to drink.
It's an insult to refuse.

Finish it. He's gonna get more for me.

I'll never be the same.

Just a minute.

Uh-

I told him I'd love a drink,
but it's against doctor's orders.

Oh, you traitor.

Hey!

- What is it now?
- It's a cheese.

You take it.

Nicholas?

Right!

No!

- Mm.
- Now...

for a long passionate kiss.

Water.

- It's freezing!
- Yee-haw!

What's wrong?

Do you know how many men
I have slept with this year?

Fifty?

If I had slept with 50,
I'd just be an honest professional.

I suppose to you
I'm just like all the others.

I don't compare birds in the hand
with birds in the bush.

But you are that sort.

- What sort?
- Just after bird.

You're not still a Catholic?

But I'm not just bird either.

Nicko?

I know what we are today...

but what about tomorrow?

I have to go back.

I didn't mean
that kind of tomorrow.

I know you didn't.

Still living that existentialist novel?

I've been trying to
find a way to tell you.

It's a whole group of people I've met.

- But there is a girl?
- It's not as simple as that.

This thing, it's like being halfway
through a book.

You can't just throw it
in the dustbin.

- So you throw me instead?
- I'm trying to be honest.

Honest?

It's just like in London.

You haven't changed.

I'll always be that French girl
who slept around.

A human boomerang.

Throw her away and she'll always
come back for another week of duty-free sex.

- That's below the belt!
- Your natural territory.

Or so you think.

But let me
tell you something.

If all I needed you for was that...

I'd have left you
after the first night.

I'll walk out of my job tomorrow.

Or?

You say no,
and for the last time.

- You can't just finish it like-
- Yes or no?

- Anne, if you'd only lis-
- Yes or no?

- You can't decide these things-
- Yes or no?

No.

Don't be so stupid.

Anne, let me in.

You'll never see me again.

Never!

Never again!

Anne!

Miss?

Please, I must speak to you.
We want to help you.

We arrive at Phraxos
in a few minutes.

Father?

Do you remember telling me that Conchis
helped the Germans during the war?

What did he do?

That beach-You see it?

That is where it started.

- Zigarette?
- Nein. Danke.

Achtung!

Because of that in your school,
a great killing...

they say it was Conchis.

It was because of him.

Ah, Nicholas!

I told them you would return.
Oh, this is Dr. Anton Meyer from Zurich.

He is, uh, observing my methods.

Dr. Lambros has told me
how valuable your assistance can be.

Anything to further
medical knowledge.

How is the patient?

We feel very optimistic,
provided we're all careful.

Well, you can depend on me.

Nicholas is very intelligent.

I think we can rely
on his good judgment. Can't we?

Implicitly, Dr. Lambros.

You've come back!
Thank God.

- Did I ever say I wouldn't?
- No. But they did.

They said you'd gone back to England.

They told me
you'd gone to Switzerland.

I've just met one of the doctors
who treated you there.

Anton? He's no more
a doctor than I am.

Did you check the name Lambros?

I knew I'd forgotten something.

You did.

Then you know everything
I've said is true.

Here. I wanna talk to you.

Isn't it time you stop
making a fool of me?

It's my profession.
I'm an actress.

I studied in America.

But nothing happened for me,
so I came to Europe.

I got one or two small parts
in French pictures.

And then I had this offer
to do a film on location in Greece.

You don't have to tell me the producer's name.

And the director was Anton.

We spent a week here on tests.

My dear Lily.

May I present Mr. Nicholas Urfe.

Miss Montgomery.

Anton played your part.

It is very warm.

We're surely not going to
talk about the weather.

Mr. Urfe is the young schoolmaster
I mentioned.

That first meeting.
What happened then?

That's just it, absolutely nothing.

I never saw a script.
All the equipment vanished, all the crew.

And then one day-

Of course we intend
to make the picture...

but in a completely new way.

The leading actor, whom we have
already selected, will not realize he is acting.

He'll have absolutely
no idea what's happening.

- But surely he must see a script.
- Ah, on the contrary...

we will not write a script
until we have watched his reaction...

to the role
we will ask you to play.

- The days of set plots are over. Finished.
- Of course.

Julie, surely at drama school
they taught you to improvise.

Julie, please.

Trust me? Hmm?

It seemed fun.

You came, I improvised,
they were excited by your reactions.

But I don't understand
what's going on anymore.

I even think they know
you've guessed what I really am.

There's still no script, still no preparation
for any kind of filming.

Well, haven't you asked him,
"What happens now?"

Of course, a thousand times.

My dear Julie, be patient.

Answers kill.

In a way,
I know what he means.

Do you remember
being here before?

That day you disappeared.

I'll tell you when you're warm.

I don't know.
I give up.

Julie?

Julie?

Good Lord.

Did he have this built?

The Germans.
They were here during the war.

Maurice only had to make this.

Wasn't I more fascinating
as a ghost?

The wardrobe department.

You know he's already
taken film of us.

He can't have.

I've seen it.

- You and me on the jetty together.
- But it's impossible.

The cameras and the crew
all disappeared before you came.

It was shot with a telephoto lens.

It's weird.

It's what I keep on feeling.

He's some kind of voyeur,
and we're his puppets...

his toys.

You are frightened.

Sometimes.

And sometimes...
I love every minute of it.

Nicholas, I can't.
Not here.

It's this feeling
that he sees everything.

But you can never get away.

Well, as a matter of fact,
I think I could.

At night.
Not for long, but-

- Long enough?
- Mr. Urfe, are you asking me to commit-

I'll go into details of the crime
when we meet.

There's a chapel in the forest.
Follow the path, okay?

Midnight. What day?

I'll send you a sign-
Fruit from the Garden of Eden.

Nicholas, I wonder if you would help me
fell a dead pine.

And, dear,
it's time for your treatment.

I don't want to go.

Come, come.
You will soon see Nicholas again.

I see she's revealed
one of our little tricks to you.

Which of her fantasies has she been
regaling you with this afternoon?

The incredibly innocent
film actress...

or something less far-fetched?

Nothing quite as far-fetched
as Dr. Lambros...

who doesn't appear
in any medical register.

Well, how could he?
My name is Dr. Maurice Conchis.

Ah. I think when I marry,
I shall pray for daughters. And you?

I'll just pray for myself.

This was handed in
at the gate, sir.

Oh, and there's a letter, sir.

You know what's wrong with marriage, Meli?
It kills the fun in life.

It's the timid, little people
who can't gamble...

who always want to know
where they are.

It's for mice, Meli,
not for men.

What is it? Nicholas?

Julie?

Julie, stop mucking about.

- Did you find a boat?
- What?

This way!

Hey, hey, what's going on?
Who the hell are you?

- Enjoying yourself?
- Good. Thank you.

Traitor!

Freedom!

Take them away.

My dear Nicholas.

Has something happened?

You know damn well what's happened.
I went to the chapel.

Chapel? What for?

I am sick of your mysteries.
Sick of pretense.

You are right.
Nothing here is what it seems.

- You have entered the Metatheatre.
- The what?

A theater with no set plot,
no set dialogue and no audience.

Our play is for the actors alone.

Some Greek millionaires find their pleasure
inviting famous people on their yachts.

I- I prefer less banal amusements.

- Amusements?
- I hoped at least you would find them entertaining.

- Where's Julie?
- Ah.

A very promising actress,
is she not?

She did not feel
like performing this evening.

And you're the bloody director?

Directors do not appear
on the stage.

What am I, the unpaid clown
of the production?

You will not go unpaid.
I assure you of that.

Fine. Well, take a look at the latest bill
for your amusements.

- Who was she?
- A girl I knew.

And if it hadn't been for you and
your damn game, she'd still be alive.

She loved you?

I never realized how much.

- If I-
- My dear Nicholas.

Oh, if I'd only known.

I am most profoundly sorry.

Another death
to add to your collection.

Wait!

What I said before is partly true.

But it is not true that we do
what we do just for fun.

The chapel was to set the scene
for something that proves that.

Something that may help you
come to terms with this tragedy.

I beg you to sit down.

Please.

During the war here...

I, too, was cast as the clown
of a production...

in the theater of real life.

I hated my role.

But it taught me
the greatest lesson life holds.

In 1941,
after the fall of Greece...

they sent a small German garrison
to Phraxos.

They set up an observation post
here at the villa...

and took over your school
for the headquarters.

One day, I was ordered to report
to the garrison commandant...

- Captain Wilhelm Dietrich Wimmel.
- Ah, Herr Conchis.

He told me I was to be mayor.

I was given no choice.

For two years,
nothing happened.

It seemed we were to be spared
the worst horrors of the occupation.

Then one day in 1943...

one typical, calm
Aegean summer day-

The Germans had a system.

For each German
killed by the Resistance...

20 civilians had to be executed.

We, therefore, owed them 80.

You know they were
from- from Crete.

We have no partisans
here in Phraxos.

But they were Greeks,
Herr B�rgermeister.

One of them,
who had relatives in the village, went for help.

The other two hid.

Their comrade was unfortunate enough
to be captured alive.

Gut. Danke sch�n.

Prodotis!

Eleutheria!

Eleutheria
is the noblest word in the Greek language.

It means "freedom."

The Greek for "traitor"
is prodotis.

Herr B�rgermeister,
I wish certain information...

from the leader
of these murderers.

And he's being obstinate.

You, as mayor,
will order him to speak.

Under Occupation Law,
I'm not obliged to be-

The only law on Phraxos now,
lieber Herr Conchis, is my law.

Now, speak.

If you make him talk,
I will give you 80 lives.

Wimmel told me
to ask him the name of his superior...

the methods by which partisans were
smuggled from one island to the other...

why they had come to Phraxos...

what their real mission was.

As much as I hated asking him
to cooperate with the Germans...

I was certain no information
he was hiding could be worth 80 lives.

Eleutheria!

Well, I could make you
watch the dialogue...

between my men
and this animal.

- No, thank you.
- Do you think I'm a sadist?

No, I'm a realist.

My purpose is a German
historical purpose-

To bring order...

into the chaos of Europe.

Hmm.

Herr B�rgermeister?

Order.

We will meet tomorrow.

Herr B�rgermeister.

The responsibility for the fate
of these peasants rests with you.

I will change the sentence
of death to deportation...

on one condition.

That is...

that you yourself carry out
the execution of these three murderers.

It's forbidden for Greeks
to have loaded weapons.

But I don't understand.

Well, you have 15 seconds
to understand.

Ten seconds.

Eleutheria!

Eleutheria.

Fire!

You see what he had condemned me to.

Alive, I could be only one thing-

a collaborationist.

That is why Maurice Conchis
had to die.

What would you have done?

- God knows.
- God never has to choose.

You and I do.

You have one death
on your conscience.

I have 80.

More than 80.

No, no more, my friends.

Our activities for this year
must come to an end.

Madame Catherine Foug�re
of the French National Theater.

Enchant�e, monsieur.

Mr. Andreas Paskalis, who has made
a specialty of servants' roles.

Thank you.

Why was I cast as the traitor?

We are all cast as the traitor
for one simple reason:

We have all failed to love.

The comedy is over.

I can't stand any more.

I'm never going back.

- But you knew all about it.
- I thought I did.

You weren't the only one who was told
not to get emotionally involved.

I'll never be able
to make you believe me now.

Try.

Try harder.

- Julie?
- I'm frightened.

Frightened?

In case you do to me
what you did to Anne.

Anne? To hell with Anne.

No.

- To hell with Nicholas.
- Julie!

There is no Julie.

What?

What the hell-

All gods.

Ancient gods.

If it hadn't been for you and
your damn game, she'd still be alive.

I fear you are deceitful, Mr. Urfe.

Marriage is for mice,
Meli, not men.

Why did you cast me
as the traitor?

You'll never see me again.
Never.

Never again.

To hell with Anne.

Prodotis.

And this is the latest god.

Into it, we have fed
all the known facts about you.

Now we shall proceed
to instant analysis.

The subject is devoid of interest.

Except as a familiar type
of male parasite.

His only law
is his own pleasure.

His only morality
is his own good.

He is a machine
for self-gratification.

Not a human being.

I recommend that he be sterilized.

- Is there no hope for him?
- He is shallow.

He is vain.
He is egocentric.

He is a liar.

There is no hope for him.

Except as an actor, of course.

This is a trial, my friend...

but you are not the prisoner.

You are the judge.

And now...

we come to the case
against the accused.

You are not only the judge...

you are also the executioner.

- Yes or no? Yes or no?
- Anne, if you'd just listen.

- You can't decide these things-
- Yes or no?

This isn't my room.

You are in Athens.

You have been very ill.

But I think you have recovered.

Due to your expert treatment?

Due to your excellent cooperation.

Aw, come on.
How long is this game going on?

Are you so sure
it's a game?

- Well, good-bye.
- Answer one question.

What you do...

is it for us or for yourself...

because of what you did
in the war?

Just once... the truth.

What is truth?

Anne!

Anne.

Anne.

Anne!

Anne!

Anne!

"We shall not cease from exploration.

And the end of all our exploring"-

"Will be to arrive where we started...

A.A.K

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