All language subtitles for Fantasy Island S01E01 Pilot.DVDRip.NonHI.cc.en.SNY.EN

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.