Original subtitles

The plane! The plane!

Our guests are arriving on time, to the second.

They always do.

And you always act like it's a miracle.

My dear Tattoo, when each guest is paying $50,000...

for a three-day stay on Fantasy Island, he or she deserves miracles.

Right, boss.

I find it exhilarating each time they come, Tattoo.

New people with new problems,

new hopes, new fears.

They are so... mortal.

Smiles, everyone. Smiles. Company's coming.

Smiles.

Button your jacket, Tattoo.

Mr. Arnold Greenwood... All the way from World War II.

Paul Henley...

Not so long ago, the most famous hunter in Africa.

Hemingway would've loved him.

Who is Hemingway?

Mrs. Eunice Hollander-Baines.

Time magazine's Woman Executive of the Year.

Who's Time magazine?

All the way from Pennsylvania for a funeral.

My drink!

Dear guests, I am Mr. Roarke, your host.

Welcome to Fantasy Island.

Music, Tattoo.

♪♪

Welcome to Fantasy Island indeed.

Thank you.

Fantasy Island.

It's a wonderful name, a wonderful place.

Your idea? I was consulted.

I see you'd rather not say. I respect that.

I-I made a fortune keeping the other guy guessing.

Chain drugstores.

Well, as you know, I was a journalist during World War II.

Well, um, a reporter anyway.

But two months after the war, I quit.

I couldn't spell, let alone write. Excuse me.

I'd like to go to my room. Oh, certainly. Tattoo.

Yes, sir?

Show Mrs. Hollander-Baines to her bungalow please.

Yes, sir. This way, ma'am.

She never said word one on the plane.

Who is she?

A firm rule on Fantasy Island, Mr. Greenwood...

No questions ever about another client.

Your paths won't cross again.

I understand. Her fantasy is personal, like mine.

Well, where was I? Oh, yes. Wholesale drugs.

Mr. Greenwood, I already know your past...

Completely... Or you wouldn't be here.

You are rich and alone, wife deceased, children grown and gone.

Your only interest in life now is the past.

Specifically, reliving a brief but beautiful romance...

which took place in London about 30 years ago during the war.

Yes.

Two days that I never forgot.

Francesca.

Does it sound crazy? Oh, I make no judgments.

When I accepted your check for $50,000, I accepted your fantasy.

And you... you found a girl...

who looks exactly like Francesca?

You-You briefed her.

All details have been taken care of, Mr. Greenwood...

Francesca, the London flat, the pub where first you met.

They're all here on Fantasy Island.

Everyone knows his or her role. You're a magician.

Some call me that.

Mr. Henley, I trust your first sight of Fantasy Island isn't a disappointment.

We have most creature comforts.

If you don't see what you want, simply ask for it.

Mr. Roarke, your words remind me of my own...

when I used to greet each new safari.

Why don't we just skip it?

Skipped. Let's get down to business.

Your fantasy is that we try to kill you. We are ready.

Perhaps. Were you able to secure expert hunters?

The ice bucket, Mr. Henley.

Oh!

Nothing at all, nothing at all.

Just a little trick, a little joke.

Carry on. Carry on.

Expert enough, Mr. Henley?

So he's a good shot, but that doesn't prove much.

Is he a professional hunter?

Professional? Um, no, I wouldn't call him that.

I wouldn't call any of the three hunters I've hired to kill you professional.

I'd say, rather, they were, um,

dedicated.

The hunt begins tomorrow morning at 8:00 sharp.

When you take to the bush from the beach house,

you are allowed no weapon save a hunting knife.

The hunt is divided into three phases. They will be detailed to you one by one.

You may quit before or after any phase, but not during one.

You may have your money back now or nevermore. How say you?

Tomorrow morning it is.

Fine.

I'll walk you to your Jeep if you like.

Your bungalow... we call it a beach house... is a good way off.

You will find further instructions there.

Question to you, Roarke.

What did you mean back there about "dedicated" hunters?

You'll see, Henley.

You'll see.

Your room satisfactory, ma'am?

I don't appreciate the humor, Mr. Roarke.

This is not a practical joke nor simply idle curiosity.

Oh, I had no way of knowing.

The arrangements over the telephone were quite brief.

"Mr. Roarke," you said to me, as I recall,

"my fantasy is that I attend my own funeral.

Arrange it. Thank you. Good-bye".

Very well. I will say this much, and I will say it only once.

I suggest you say it slowly...

and as from one executive to another.

The organization I run is,

shall we say, larger than meets the eye.

Hollander Woolen Mills...

is the third largest fabric manufacturer in the country.

The business was started by and has been sustained by Hollanders...

Handed down from father to son to father to daughter.

And each one, at some time or another,

has had to worry about who is loyal...

Who can be trusted to carry on the Hollander tradition.

And now your time has come. Is that it?

All I know...

All I feel is...

that some sort of conspiracy is going on.

Ah. Thus, your fantasy.

If I were to die suddenly, what would happen to all of it?

As you requested,

your husband, brother and personal secretary...

are arriving for your funeral.

There's also an unexpected mourner...

that you should know about.

Your sister Elizabeth.

Who asked her to come?

She's got nothing to do with the family. She left us long ago.

Thrown out is the way I heard it.

At any rate, it seems she read the newspaper account.

We had to put out a news story, you realize,

telling that... Yes. I heard it on the radio.

Uh, I was drowned at sea... A boating accident...

And would be buried here on this island that I loved.

My secret hideaway.

Apparently, your sister read or heard the same story.

I suppose she's coming here to make sure she gets her share of the inheritance.

Possibly.

Well,

we'll find out, won't we?

I mean, isn't that what this is all about?

What would people say,

what would people do if you were dead?

That's it, isn't it?

Precisely.

Now is there, uh, is there some way I could be close by,

see and hear what they have to say?

Indeed.

Over here please.

You will be...

Miss Martin, one of the higher-ranking servants.

What about my voice?

I'd say you're here to listen rather than talk,

wouldn't you?

My dear Mr. Henley.

These are the weapons to be used to kill you tomorrow.

I'm told any of them can stop a charging rhinoceros dead in its tracks,

or a famous hunter.

Since the hunt doesn't start until the morning,

a relaxed evening has been planned for you.

Excellent food, excellent wine,

an excellent partner for the night.

Eat, drink, and be merry, old man.

It's the last chance you have.

Yeah.

Not bad, Arnold.

Not bad at all.

You never looked better.

Hello, Francesca.

How do you do, Mr. Baines? Please accept my condolences on your tragic loss.

Thank you, Mr. Roarke.

This is my sister-in-law, Elizabeth Hollander.

"Liz" will do. Flying shakes me up.

Can I have a drink? Oh, certainly. Miss Martin,

see what Miss Hollander wants, please.

Scotch on the rocks... And not too many rocks.

This is Charles Hollander, my brother-in-law.

A beautiful place, Mr. Roarke.

I can see why my sister loved it so.

- And Connie Raymond, my wife's secretary. - How do you do?

Where are we anyway? What is this place?

And why the mystery in getting here?

Come on, Liz. It was Eunice's last request.

Your drink, Miss Hollander. Thanks.

Uh, dinner will be served at 8:00.

I'm sure you'd all like to rest a bit now and freshen up.

Oh, uh, Tattoo will show you to your rooms.

Thank you. Neat.

Anyone care to join me for a drink?

Refill please. Catch up with us, huh?

Lead on, Tattoo.

I'm sorry, Mr. Roarke. I didn't know she was gonna be here.

There was never any love lost between my wife and her sister.

I tried to stop her coming, but...

Grant, don't let it get to you. Excuse us please.

She never called him Grant in front of me.

Well, life goes on for the living.

So soon?

Madam, I conduct... arrange, if you will... these fantasies.

But I am not, as the saying goes, responsible for their content.

Excuse me.

Here we are, Lieutenant.

This is it? Go inside. You'll see.

She'll be there? Everything will be exactly as it was.

Exactly.

♪♪

Ah, don't.

How are ya? Thirsty in me throat, dear.

Oh, you.

Arnold, I hope you got paid today.

Really doesn't matter. Tonight I'm a winner.

All right, lads and lassies, you heard it.

Jerry's on his way. Bar's closed.

Down the shelters we go.

Now, keep track of your own bill, all right?

And if there's a direct hit... a direct, mind you...

Drinks are on the house.

Come on, Daisy. Where's Sis? Where's Bill?

Come on, Rose. Here we go.

Jerry's not far behind.

Get you lot downstairs. Go on.

That'll be sixpence, Yank.

Francesca.

You did hear the air raid siren?

I'm a fatalist about German bombs.

A thirsty fatalist. Parched.

Are you a fatalist too?

Mm-mmm. Just curious.

You ducked away instead of going down.

He's a very brave man, I said to myself.

Well, you were wrong to yourself.

He's a claustrophobic.

Just hates small rooms with a lot of people in it. Me too.

I go nuts in a shelter. That's really why I'm still up here.

My name is Francesca Hamilton.

Arnold Greenwood.

Well, um,

what's an American girl doing in London?

My folks came here a few years back and loved it.

We decided we wouldn't let a little war scare us away.

I'll toast that. Cheers, Francesca.

Cheers, Arnold.

Music?

Only if I don't have to sing along.

You don't have to dance either, but it'd be nice.

Oh. I don't mind dancing. That's my profession.

Oh, really? You teach, like Arthur Murray's?

No. I'm in the ballet. A ballerina.

No, no, no, no. Chorus.

But don't worry. I promise to dance badly.

I don't think...

you would know how to dance badly.

♪♪

You dance beautifully. Must be the uniform.

No. No, they've been showing us Fred Astaire pictures instead of training films.

I like that, Alan.

Arnold.

I'm sorry. That's all right.

I'll be Alan if you want me to. Oh, no, no. No, I like Arnold.

Good. Arnold like you too.

Have dinner with me tonight, Francesca.

But, sir, this is so sudden.

So is my two-day pass. Please?

We'll cook in. My apartment okay?

If you insist.

It's a nice air raid...

Terrific.

Very nice.

Mr. Henley. Compliments of Mr. Roarke.

Well, this is a fantasy I didn't expect.

- Enjoy. - I'll try.

My name's Michelle.

Hello Michelle. I'm... I know.

Paul Henley. Hunter, mountain climber, jet-setter in khaki.

Boy, that really sounds terrible.

Are you a friend of Mr. Roarke, or did he hire you?

Anybody who hires me is my friend.

- Did he tell you why I was here? - Everything.

Except why you want to kill yourself.

Is that what you think I wanna do?

A hunter who wants to be hunted?

Isn't it obvious?

I'm sure Mr. Roarke wouldn't want us...

to waste a whole evening discussing my motives.

No. What would Mr. Roarke want us to do?

Well, I think he'd say...

let's enjoy the wine.

1961... a very good year. Here's to Mr. Roarke...

and his usual excellent taste.

To your fantasy.

♪♪

Come in.

Ah. Welcome.

I've got three more demi-pliés to do. Do you mind?

Well, that depends... on what a demi-plié is.

It's one of these. I've already done 30.

They're sexy.

I should've come earlier.

There. Ah!

I feel as if I were born on Swan Lake. ♪♪

For me?

Thank you.

They're sweet.

You're sweet.

Well, if you're gonna kiss me every time I give you flowers...

Here. No, thank you.

I already have some.

You really are Francesca.

Yep, that's me.

Odd name, isn't it?

My grandfather was Russian.

Which brings me to dinner.

I bet you can't guess what we're having. Lasagna.

How did you know?

You must be psychic.

The swami sees... something burning in the oven.

My lasagna! That's how you knew.

All is well. Saved by the swami.

Now, Arnold Greenwood, tell me all about yourself.

How many words? You see, that's the way they assign our stories.

They say, um, "Give us 1,500 words on Eva Braun."

"Give us 2,000 words on General Montgomery.

"But make it something personal.

What does he wear to bed?"

What do you wear to bed?

Well, if it's cold enough, I wear a flannel nightgown.

And a funny, flannel hat too?

- I would if I had one. - You will. For Christmas.

Now, tell me all about yourself, Arnold Greenwood.

Take all the words you need.

Well, I'm unmarried.

I'm unengaged.

I am a combat correspondent attached to Ike's staff. That's it.

Were you a reporter in civilian life?

No. But I was on the college paper...

until they kicked me out of college.

And I was 4-F for the army, bum eardrums. How about you?

My eardrums are fine.

No. Married?

No. Engaged?

No. Going steady?

Nope. Why?

You're bright, you're bubbly, and you're beautiful.

And bored with the men I meet.

Or met, anyhow.

I haven't met anyone who's interested me either until this afternoon at the pub.

But then, you're not new to me.

What do you mean? Déjà vu or something?

No. No, nothing spooky or anything like that.

It's just that I, um,

I've searched...

Um, waited, waited is a better word.

I've waited...

all of my grown-up life...

for someone like you to come along,

and now here you are.

I think I'm already falling in love with you, Francesca.

Ah.

You don't have to say anything just because I did.

Except maybe, um,

"Excuse me, I'd like to go check the lasagna."

You're a nice man, Arnold.

Excuse me.

I'd better check the lasagna.

Mmm!

Yummy.

May I have more?

Oh, I am afraid that it might keep you awake.

And I have to get up with the sun tomorrow.

Hunt starts at 8:00.

Oh. I'll pack you a picnic lunch tonight.

Well. Don't wake me.

Mmm.

Where did Mr. Roarke find you?

Please, no questions.

Mm-mmm.

Psst! Psst, psst!

Now, you got the clothes and...

They're right here.

And you didn't forget...

No, I didn't forget. Do I ever forget?

I forgot.

Good morning. - 00 and time for the hunt.

Wake up, Mr. Henley. Soon your life is on the line.

Oh. Mmm.

Hey, come on. Let me get these off, huh?

I didn't do it. The-The clothes.

The brandy. They must have put something in the brandy.

Mr. Henley, there's no time.

The hunt is on.

You can be seen even now by the first hunter through your open terrace window.

Stay down!

Stay down and shut up! Shut up!

Stay down.

Roarke, you never said anything about her being handcuffed to me.

That wasn't in the rules.

There are no rules on Fantasy Island, except as I make them.

Now I suggest you move. Out the front door and to the jungle.

It's dangerous where you both are now.

The next shot will be fired in, uh, five seconds.

Come on. Come on!

Mr. Henley.

I'm the hunter for phase one.

Don't shoot, please.

I won't. Not for 20 minutes yet.

Phase one, Mr. Henley, a hunting preserve.

Surely you remember those.

Usually they're owned by kings and maharajas.

This one is owned by me.

One hundred yards directly to the north, there is a red flag.

You must get there in 20 minutes time,

or the hunter will start shooting to kill.

Twenty minutes to go 100 yards, Roarke? What's the catch?

Traps.

Surely you remember animal traps, snares.

Very cute. You still have a choice, Henley.

Phase one... go or no go?

Why the girl? Why put her through this?

Yes or no?

Yes, damn it. Don't I have anything to say about this?

You had your say when you took this job.

- You dirty... - Sticks and stones.

Twenty minutes, Henley.

Oh, allow me to introduce you to the first hunter,

the first dedicated hunter.

His name is Mr. Adams, Hugh Adams.

Do you remember him from Africa, in Kenya? You should.

You cheated him out of $100,000 worth of land in 1966.

We begin, Henley.

Good, Adams. That's what I came for.

Now you walk when I walk, you stop when I stop,

or I'll cut your arm off and go alone.

Do you understand that?

Twenty minutes, Henley, or the hunter will start shooting to kill.

Oh! What is it?

That vine. The leaves are withered, dead.

Well, leaves die on vines, don't they?

No. The vine usually falls first.

It's an animal trap. Dead vine used as a release wire.

To release what?

All kinds of nasty, little surprises.

We can go under it, can't we?

We're gonna have to.

Oh! Now what? Don't move and shut up.

Tricky little devils.

While we're trying to avoid that vine up there, we stumble over this.

This is the real release wire.

Watch.

Good show, Henley.

He's really insane. Ten minutes are gone, Henley.

Ten minutes to go.

You've only covered 50 yards. Fifty yards to go.

We're never gonna make it.

Come on. You're insane too.

How does it feel to be the hunted, Mr. Henley?

Exhilarating, Mr. Roarke. Never felt better.

Look out!

- Help me! - Hang on!

Help me!

Quite a dilemma, eh, Henley?

Fourteen minutes gone.

Good boy. Cut her arm off.

Try to take my hand.

Yes! Come on.

That's it, baby.

Come on. You can do it.

Now grab my wrist.

Come on now.

Come on. Come on.

One more.

Elapsed time, 16 minutes.

Jungle standard time...

18 minutes gone.

Come on. Come on.

That's it, sweetheart, around the tree.

That-a-girl.

Splendid! Superb! Genius!

Thirty seconds left.

Time!

Cease firing! He's made it.

Don't pull that trigger.

Congratulations, Henley.

You were superb.

To hell with you, Roarke!

Do you hear me? To hell with you!

Come on, buddy. Fill her up and check the oil.

Hey, can't we even talk?

I didn't ask for a rock group, just a little dinner conversation.

Let's talk about Eunice.

Let's remember her and not bury her.

That comes the day after tomorrow.

Now, who's gonna be first?

Connie, how about you?

Miss Raymond, I understand that...

you're Mrs. Hollander-Baines's personal secretary for six years.

Do you have any comment?

Yes. I hated the job.

Oh, why is that, Miss Raymond?

Because she had a sharp tongue and a short temper.

Oh, Connie, how can you sit there and say that?

Please, sir, only one interview at a time.

Miss Raymond, are you trying to say...

that Eunice Hollander-Baines was a...

Dreadful person.

But then I'm sure you know that.

I have the distinct feeling it runs in the family.

At least on the female side.

I see.

Well, if that's the way you felt, why did you stay?

Him?

- Oh, Liz, cut it out. - No, no.

Let her go on. I have nothing to hide.

No, I didn't stay for him,

but while I was there, I used him.

I did everything I could to make Eunice jealous,

to make her suspicious.

Every slinky move I could make.

Every "come hither" look I could give.

I did anything I could to further the illusion.

That's very interesting.

You wasted a lot of time.

I hardly noticed you. But Eunice did.

She never mentioned it. She wouldn't.

It would give you power.

Anyway, I got that off my chest.

Connie, baby, tell me, if that's the way you felt,

why did you come here to the funeral in the first place?

Curiosity.

Did she remember me in her will after all?

You know, along with the servants?

No, she didn't.

You read it? The will?

When she wrote it.

I'm the executor, remember?

You don't get a penny.

Surprise.

Speaking of wills, Mr. Baines,

how did you come out?

Liz, you have two options.

One, get out of here, or shut up. Take your choice.

I loved my wife. Loved her?

You ran with other women. You wasted her money.

I loved her!

My, my. You're something else when aroused, aren't you?

You even affect old lady housekeepers.

I don't suppose you ever have anything to say.

Oh, don't start up with Charles.

Charles can take care of himself. Thank you, Grant.

Well, the mouse that roared.

I find you vulgar.

What's a little sister for?

Tell me, Chuck, how was it all those years after Mom and Dad died...

being run by big sister Eunice?

Being run at home,

at the office, cocktail parties, golf courses,

Christmas, New Year's, Fourth of July.

Didn't it hurt your masculinity?

Not a bit. Nor my sanity.

This may come as a surprise to you, Liz,

but I was happy to be number two in the company...

as long as Eunice was number one.

She had the brains, the drive and the guts...

to run the mill just fine.

To tell the truth, Liz,

I never really gave a damn about the business.

Eunice knew that,

and she never pushed me.

I loved her for that.

Yes, I loved her.

We all know you never did.

You do, huh?

Well, I guess you do at that.

Why wouldn't you? I said it enough times, shouted it from enough rooftops.

Eunice Hollander-Baines.

Imagine keeping your maiden name after you're married.

We didn't lose a sister; we gained a hyphen.

It wasn't always like that.

She raised me like a mother.

And I loved her too,

even after she had me thrown out of Hollander for being the town drunk.

Our own town too.

Why did she have to come to this insipid, fat-cat place and get herself killed?

Why?

The effort, the time, the trouble, the expense...

was so worthwhile if I find out nothing more...

than my sister Liz doesn't hate me.

She really loves me. You wish to end the charade?

No, not yet. Not with the others,

but, uh, I do want to end it for Liz.

Tomorrow? Tonight. Now.

I can't stand her grieving over my death any longer.

I, uh... I'm gonna tell her.

I just wanted you to know. I would have.

How?

You're in my world, Miss Martin.

Come in.

Who is it?

Oh, my God! It's Eunice!

You're alive! It's all right. It's all right.

It's really me. Oh, I can't believe it.

Oh, Eunice. Why?

It was all just a trick to find out who my friends are, who my enemies are,

and whom I can trust.

I just couldn't go on anymore with you thinking I was dead.

Well, shouldn't we tell the others? Oh, no, not yet.

There's so much I have to learn yet. It's important they don't know.

Promise me you won't tell them. You understand? Yes.

Oh, Eunice.

I can't believe it. You're alive.

Oh, thank God.

I love you, Liz.

Good night.

Good night.

She's gone.

That's unbelievable.

You were right.

You bet your little booty.

I knew that something was wrong from the beginning.

It's a funny place to die and a funny way to die...

and a funny way to have a funeral.

Only the joke is going to be on her.

All we have to do now is kill her.

What?

Her death has been announced and verified.

Grant, it is our one chance.

Whoa, whoa. Wait-Wait a minute.

Let's run that through again.

You were right about her pulling a little trick, but...

But what? We should just give up?

She has her laugh and we all go home?

Home to where you see me every other week.

Maybe. Home to "Yes, Eunice. No, Eunice."

Home is hell for us. And sooner or later,

she's going to catch us, and then we are both dead.

Do you think it'll work?

Mm-hmm.

And for the lady.

Paul, why don't you quit?

You don't have anything more to prove. You were magnificent back there.

What else is there?

More of the same. Fun and games.

That's why I'm here. I don't buy that.

It's something else, like some kind of guilt you're trying to get rid of.

You're a very beautiful lady.

Well, was breakfast satisfactory?

Excellent, Mr. Roarke. Excellent. Good.

Uh, this is Mr. Gitu Umba, hunter for phase two.

- A dedicated hunter? - Oh, yes.

Who also knows me? Indeed.

Of course, there is no reason you should know him, recognize him.

He was away from his village on safari the day of the, uh, accident.

What accident?

Don't you remember? In Kenya?

You were driving recklessly through his village. Drunk, some say.

Cracked up, hit a parked truck. His truck.

His child was playing inside.

Broke both his legs.

Little toddler.

Um, you needn't worry about the young lady this time.

Looks like you're fired.

What are the conditions of this hunt? Ah.

Uh, you start from the edge, over there,

down the hill some hundred yards or so to...

To the red flag, without getting shot by Mr. Umba.

And where will he be during all this?

Anyplace he chooses along the drop,

but at no time closer to you...

than 200 yards... or so.

Or so.

Yes or no?

No.

Well, I'd like to take a little look before I leap.

Certainly. Please.

Well, Mr. Henley?

Okay, fine.

Oh, smashing.

I guess there isn't anything I can say or do that will stop you.

My shield.

That's going to protect you against bullets?

No, it's gonna protect my tender bottom against the ground.

I'll see you.

I'd certainly like that.

What's he doing?

A sled!

Fire!

Here's your flag, Roarke!

You're beautiful, Paul Henley!

Inventive rascal, isn't he?

So far, so good, Henley.

Phase three will begin tomorrow morning.

Another tent will be set up for you to spend the night.

And, uh, rest well, Henley,

for phase three is, uh...

Uh, what do young people say today?

Um, a grabber.

Liz, I'm afraid. What of?

Look, all you have to do is be waiting here, waiting for her.

I'll get her out here. She'll never get to you.

Look, I'll take care of... Oh!

Liz. Liz!

You've got to understand it's not that easy for me.

If you don't want to do this, it's not going to work.

Now you decide, Grant, yes or no, and decide now!

Yes.

♪♪

♪♪

Will you do something for me? Yes.

Go turn the record over.

If you'll do something for me.

What? Scratch your back again?

Marry me.

We've just met.

I mean, I-I don't marry men that I've just met.

I love you, Francesca.

Right after the war, we could go to the States.

Oh, no, no, wait a minute. You're going too fast.

Let's just take one day at a time.

You love me. I know you do.

I know it. I can feel it.

Go turn the record over.

Liar!

Cheap, lousy liar!

Arnold, what is it? Not married?

Not engaged? No boyfriend?

You and Tim?

Why did you lie to me? Why?

Well, I didn't want you to know. I thought it would be easier.

What were you after? Money? Do you do this every night?

Air raid. We'd better get to the shelter.

To hell with the shelter. We don't believe in them, remember?

We're not going anywhere! Arnold, we'll talk about it later.

No, we will talk about it now. Now why did you lie to me? All right!

I lied. I am married.

So what of it? He's away fighting.

By now, he could be killed for all I know.

All I wanted was a cozy weekend here with you.

With anybody! What's so wrong in pretending?

Liar!

Liar! Liar!

Liar! Liar!

Liar.

Oh!

Anybody hurt here?

Yes!

Do you need some help?

Yes! Yes!

Up here!

Up here!

There's a woman in here. She's been hit by a beam.

She's badly hurt. She could be dead. Call an ambulance.

Righto!

You liar. You liar.

Look! What?

You liar. You filth! Wait a minute!

What did you do this for?

Money?

Do you do this all the time?

Why did you lie to me?

Not married?

Not engaged?

Stop it! No boyfriend!

Roarke! Stop it! This isn't real! Liar!

You liar! You're crazy! Roarke, help me!

Good morning, Henley.

You slept well, I trust?

Can you hear me?

Good.

The, uh, helicopter over you is phase three.

He's going to try to kill you from the air.

You remember chasing animals that way, don't you, Henley?

Antelope, lions, giraffes.

Great sport, eh, Henley?

To the east, over that rock,

you'll see a red flag again.

You must get there to the flag or in line with it...

to be home free.

You can be shot anyplace this side of the flag.

Now that much is more or less the same as the previous hunts.

The differences are as follows:

One, the hunter has an automatic rifle this time.

Two, you have no option. The hunt is on.

Wait a minute, Roarke. That isn't a hunt. That's murder.

Sorry, I can't hear you. I've got a helicopter in my ear.

Stay down!

Paul!

At last we meet, Mr. Henley. Who are you?

I thought Roarke told you. He was supposed to.

Well, I guess he was in too much of a hurry to get things started.

Well, I'm not in a hurry to finish them.

My name is Alex Davidson.

You'll excuse me if I don't get up.

The name means nothing to you?

I'm sorry. I'm bad with names.

Well, let's try another one then.

My wife... My former wife's name is Priscilla Davidson.

Priscilla, whom you stole, used and threw away.

Priscilla, who couldn't come back to me...

and who wouldn't go anyplace else for her shame.

She just disappeared, Henley.

Is there anything you want to say before you die?

Yeah.

I am now across the line, Mr. Davidson.

The red flag.

According to the rules, I'm home free.

To hell with the rules.

To hell with you.

I make the rules on this island, Davidson.

All of them. All of the time.

Only I break them. Nobody else.

The rules be damned. He used my wife.

Wrong. Your wife was used long before Henley...

many times by many men.

But your way of avoiding the truth...

was to single out the notorious,

the infamous Paul Henley and blame him.

You had no justification for that blame.

Neither did the other two. The first hunter, Hugh Adams from Kenya,

who claimed he was cheated on a land deal, was a liar.

He himself was trying to cheat Henley and failed.

The second hunter was equally guilty.

His child was injured because he neglected him.

Gitu Umba wasn't away on a safari.

He was drunk in his girlfriend's hut on the other side of the village.

You knew the truth in each case, didn't you, Henley?

You knew the truth.

But you thought if you told it,

they might not want to kill you, right?

You wanted to die...

for all the killing you did as a hunter.

Animal killing. Trophy killing.

Futile killing.

It finally got to you.

Right or wrong, Henley?

I'm speaking to you. Yes or no?

Well, it doesn't work that way.

You're just not that rotten apparently.

You're not even all bad,

or you wouldn't have had any sense of guilt in the first place.

Good luck, Mr. Henley.

And take care of that leg, huh?

What is he?

God only knows.

I wonder if he does.

Mmm! Good morning, Mr. Greenwood.

Morning. Yes.

Last night,

I murdered Francesca.

Have you been drinking all night, Mr. Greenwood?

I'm not drunk.

Last night, I murdered my beloved Francesca.

I choked her to death.

I murdered her just like I murdered the real Francesca...

in London a long time ago.

Well, Mr. Greenwood, it's quite possible...

you did commit that murder back in London, but...

I killed that girl too. The one that you sent me.

Where?

In the flat.

When? Last night.

You couldn't have killed her last night, Mr. Greenwood.

She left by seaplane this morning. I put her aboard myself.

She was in perfect health.

I killed her.

I can show you her body. The body on the bed.

I wrecked the flat.

Mr. Roarke, come. I'll show you.

All right.

It was the photograph. It was just like the photograph...

Poor Mr. Greenwood.

I'm afraid he'll just keep killing Francesca...

for the rest of his... life.

You'll see for yourself, Eunice. You'll decide.

I've already decided.

If Grant is as upset over my death as you say...

Despondent and suicidal...

I'd want him to know I'm alive.

The charade is over.

Oh, no! What is it?

What are you looking at?

Eunice?

Everything that I said to you last night was a lie.

I don't love you.

I detest you.

And Grant detests you too.

We just wanted you to know that...

before you die.

♪♪

In the absence of an ordained minister,

I shall conduct the service myself.

The 23rd Psalm.

"The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not want.

"He makes me lie down in green pastures.

"He leads me beside still waters.

"He restores my soul.

"He leads me in the path of righteousness...

"for his name's sake.

"Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

"I fear no evil.

"For thou art with me.

"Thy rod and thy staff,

they comfort me."

Amen.

We commend to thy bounty, O Lord,

the remains of the deceased...

Elizabeth Hollander.

The service is concluded.

Well, Mrs. Hollander-Baines,

it seems you didn't realize your fantasy after all.

You did not attend your own funeral.

I didn't miss by much either.

But for the grace of God and Elizabeth losing her footing...

Which may also be the grace of God.

Granted. I would be there, not she.

Well, it's time we were leaving.

Shall I collect your things, Mrs. Hollander-Baines?

I think all you can do for me, Connie,

is to write a check for your salary for two weeks...

and leave it for me to sign and send to you.

Somewhere far away, I trust. Good-bye.

I'll look forward to your next funeral.

I'll take care of your things, Eunice.

Thanks, Charles, for everything.

I just thank God you're back.

I'd have ruined the mill in three weeks.

Eunice, for what it's worth,

if it'll help, it wasn't all me.

It was Liz.

I was weak.

Mr. Roarke,

it seems to me I have one of two options...

The police, attempted murder and all that sort of thing,

or, uh, I've always wanted a perfect husband.

I'm too busy a woman to settle for less.

I've always wanted a man who was...

considerate and attentive,

selfless, dedicated,

virile and romantic.

Each in its proper place and time.

May I remind you, Mrs. Hollander-Baines, it's your fantasy.

So it is.

I choose the latter.

If you fail, if you falter ever for any reason,

I will change my mind like that.

Well, Grant, do you accept those conditions?

I do, Eunice.

I pronounce you both still man and wife.

Your plane leaves at 2:00.

I shall make arrangements for the others tomorrow.

I'll see you at home. Don't be late.

Thank you, Mr. Roarke. I enjoyed my stay.

Mr. Roarke,

do you have any other good prayers?

For the living or the dead?

It doesn't really matter.

Well, another day, another dollar. Right, boss? No, no, no, no.

Don't start relaxing, Tattoo. There's been a change in the schedule.

The new guests are arriving early. How soon?

Now. They're on that plane.

But the servants, the drinks!

I notified everyone.

- My-My-My white jacket! - Also notified.

Miss Angel Sherman.

The most beautiful girl in the world.

James Hoyt, penniless ranch hand...

who inherited two million dollars last week.

Dr. Martin Sironsky, who thinks he's Dr. Frankenstein.

My drink.

Dear guests,

I am Mr. Roarke, your host.

Welcome to Fantasy Island.