All language subtitles for Ripley.Under.Ground.2005.1080p.WEBRip.DDP.2.0.H.265-iVy

-Open up.

Open up.

I know you're in there.

I'm staying right here,
till you pay me.

Three months
back rent! I know your sort.

If you don't open up right now,

I'm calling my son Angus.

You know how Angus
feels about you.

Mm.

-Open this door.

Morning.

-I'm not a charity...

-Edelweiss! There you are.
-Yeah, he just crawled

through my window.

Oh, I've been looking for you
all week.

About the rent, Miss Collins,

I should be getting
my trust fund check any day now.

Oh, pay me when you can.

You are a very naughty boy.

Yes, you are.

Just a matter
of purely academic interest,

ever heard
of the word integrity?

How's that?

When your fees
for last term

failed to materialize,
I took it on myself

as principal of this college
to make some enquires.

-Allow me to summarize.
-Uh-huh.

You did not attend
Yale University,

nor the Actor's Studio

and as for that
trust fund of yours

with the First National Bank
of Toledo, Pennsylvania,

not only does the bank
not exist,

nor does Toledo, Pennsylvania.

I'm intrigued
to know how you thought

you could possibly
get away with it?

I thought once you saw
how good I was

you might just offer me
a scholarship.

No, there will be
no scholarship, Mr. Ripley.

Nor indeed
will you be returning

for tomorrow
night's performance.

Tomorrow night,
when the talent agents come.

You've forfeited your right
to be seen by them.

Conscience! But a word
that cowards use,

devised at first
to keep the strong in awe.

How strong arms...

Wonderful, Cynthia.
Just wonderful.

I couldn't take my eyes off you.

I had to sneak back
and tell you.

-Oh, you're so sweet, Bernard.
-"And if not to heaven,

then hand in hand to hell."

He's such a pompous ass.

There you are.

-My love, you were exquisite.
-Thank you.

Vulnerable
and a little sluttish...

-...which I liked.

And you, you were,
you were such a psychopath.

I've always had a soft spot
for psychopaths.

-Oh, yeah?
-Even wannabes like you.

Ah, stick it up your arse.

Um, shouldn't you be
at the gallery?

Um, yeah.
I'm a little bit late.

Oh, God. Jeffrey's gonna be
losing his mind.

Do you have to drive so fast?

I'm not driving fast.

-We're gonna crash.

You know
your problem, Bernard?

You're uptight.

You should see what happens
when you just kind of let go.

-Derwatt!
-Oh, no.

-No!

Do you have to drive so fast?

I'm not driving fast.

It's the Earth that's spinning
out of control.

Get out of my way.

What?

-You want to shake my what?
-You're a bloody lunatic.

No, I wouldn't let you
anywhere near it.

-I'll catch up with you, guys.

-I've got to pick something up.
-All right, love.

Darling, thank you very much.
Coming in, coming in.

-Jeff.
-Where the fuck have you been.

Why did you have to bring
your family, Jeffrey?

All right,
they have to grab you now

or they'll miss their deadlines.
Please behave.

I have everything riding
on this, my house, my car,

-my facelift when I'm 40.
-Are you wearing mascara?

-You are.
-Fuck off.

Excuse me.

-Miss, excuse me.
-Qu'est-ce qu'il y a?

I'm sorry.
I didn't mean to frighten you.

Get out. What,
what are you doing in here?

Well, I was walking by.
I saw you sleeping.

-I thought I should wake you.
-Why?

Well, what if someone
not so nice came along, right?

Okay, thank you.

Now-- now please,
get-- get out of the car.

-Are you okay?
-Yes. I'm fine.

This whole thing
backfired on me.

I'm worried about your safety

and now you're worried some
lunatic's in your car, right?

No,
I just don't like

thieves breaking
into my car, you know?

I was-- I was going
to a gallery opening over here.

My friend's the artist.
I didn't mean to scare you.

-Are you talking about Derwatt?
-Yeah.

I'm actually here
for the opening, too.

He's what-- he's like the new
sensation, isn't he? Yeah?

Yeah, so they say.

He sure seems to keep
you awake, huh?

No, I'm just exhausted.

I was up studying all night
for my finals

-and I fell asleep--

-Nigel, stop!
-Hey.

Leave him!

What the hell do you think
you're doing?

Nigel! I fell asleep.

He was just seeing
if I was all right.

You fell asleep in this
neighborhood?

-Sorry.
-That was smart.

Well, you took so long
as always.

-What do you expect?
-Who is this person anyway?

You should apologize
to him first.

-Accidents happen.
-Yeah. No problem.

We've spent 10 years now

tasting the equivalent
of the Sahara Desert,

and then the Tate decides
to buy two of my pictures,

and here you all are.

So what does that mean to you?

It means I can pay my rent.

It means I can feed my face.

It means I can buy good paints
and canvasses.

And I'm here to tell you

that the price of a tube
of Crimson Lake is shocking,

nowadays.

And I need to sell
a lot of these pictures

to feed my habits.

That's what it means to me.

I've done my bit,
now get me out of here.

See, now that was a hell
of a performance.

I am so glad
he's going to be famous.

He wants so badly to be a star.

Tom, honestly,
who'd buy one of these?

I mean, how could you
possibly live with it?

I don't know.

Thank God I'm over him at last.

What do you mean?
He loves you.

He's devoted to you, you know.

He's not devoted, Tom.
He's obsessed.

There's a difference.

Really, I can't breathe.

Once you get past the sex
and the hero worship

all you're left with
is one bloody scary individual.

Guess what he wanted me
to do in bed last night?

He wanted me to choke him again.

This time, he wanted me
to take him over the edge,

so that he passed out
when he came.

I mean, is that sick or what?

Did you do it?

I'll try anything once.

...places, meeting these
pretentious people...

50,000 quid, Jeff?

Do you know,

I can't decide which makes you
the more jealous, Bern.

That Derwatt's artistic career
has eclipsed yours,

or that he's screwing
our slutty little Cynthia.

That's not a nice way
to speak about an ex-girlfriend.

Give her up, Bernard.

Cynthia's life
is just like one big safari.

She's always looking
for the best game to bag.

Derwatt's
just the prey du jour.

Yeah, well, why is she spending
so much time with Tom then?

Do you know, I don't know.

She's way out his league.
He's a nobody.

I've never been charmed
by American nobodies.

One never knows
where they've been.

But I know I'm over him.

-I recognize the signs.
-What signs?

Well, I slept with someone else
for one thing.

-You know, the guy that makes

those big iron sculptures.

Anyway, it's a sign.

-You have to admit.
-Mm-hm. True.

Accidents happen.

Physics, huh?

It's philosophy, actually.

I'm finishing my Masters.

You know, it proves
there is no absolute truth.

Everything is relative
to your position

in the universe, right?

Exactement.

You know,
we're all going to go celebrate

if you'd like to join us.

I'd love to, but unfortunately
my friend made plans.

Sorry.

I'm sorry you're with him.

He did think
you were robbing me, you know.

No, I think he thought
I was robbing him.

-Well, maybe he was right.
-Maybe from his position.

Not mine.

What about yours?

My position is known to change,

but at this moment,
I'm with him.

So what would alter that?

I'd say I might change my mind

in two minutes
if he doesn't appear.

Let's give him five
just to be fair.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Hello!

Hello!

Hello!

Hello!

To Derwatt!

Whoo!

Solange...
come here.

Now as you all know,

that I'm just another
desperate artist slash madman.

full of wind and hype
and rage for fame.

Oh, but tonight,
I want to say something simple,

and I want to say it
to my great love, Cynthia.

You are the mistress
of my dreams.

Sweet.

You're the missing half
of my soul.

I ask you-- no, I beg...

with every cell in my body,
I want you to marry me.

Be my wife forever and a day,
and the mother of my children.

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

Look at this,

I bet that fool wasted
his whole advance on this.

He never fails
to surprise, right?

What are you going to do?

I'm going to protect
my investment

before that bitch destroys it.

Come on.

Christ, marriage.

I mean,
where did that come from?

-Oh, God.
-Come on, hurry up.

Everybody, quick!

You certainly topped
yourself this time.

What was I supposed
to do, Jeffrey?

Look, I'm not going
to beat myself up over this.

Good, then let me.

Oh, God.

Oh, my God.

Oh, my God.

Oh, my God.

Oh, s-- shit.

-Derwatt?
-No, stay back.

-Derwatt?
-Stay back.

Derwatt!

Derwatt! Can you hear me?

Derwatt! Derwatt!

Derwatt! Why!

Come on! Come on!

Come on!

Tom?

-It's okay, it's okay.

It's okay. It's not your fault.

Damn right it wasn't my fault.
You sick fuck.

He was a beautiful, sick fuck.

Oh.

Shouldn't we call an ambulance?

What's the point?

The prick's still probably
laughing at us.

You don't get it, do you?

-He-- he was the real thing.
-Maybe.

No one will ever know it,
though.

-What do you mean?
-It's over.

We won't sell
a single painting tomorrow.

What are you talking about?

Once they find out that he's...

Well, there'll be
a feeding frenzy, won't there?

Only if the artist
is already famous.

He is. The Tate--

Won't even bother
to hang those two paintings.

Museums and collectors buy
paintings by artists

like Derwatt as investments
for the future.

Now they'll dump him.

His future's over
and so is mine.

You mean, none of his paintings
are gonna sell now?

They're as dead as he is.

-Want some, Cyn?
-I want a lot.

-Bernard?
-Oh, yeah, right.

Snort it off
his bloody forehead.

How can you do that
at a time like this?

Cocaine was invented,

-for times like this.
-Yes.

Oh, my God.
That's Derwatt's.

What?

Yes, as a matter of fact,

it is an inconvenient time
for you to call.

No, I believe I've given you
bloodsuckers

all the interviews that will be
given for quite some time.

So do me a favor,
would you, and piss off.

What?

You're sick.

You're sicker than he ever was.

No, you were good.

I thought it was Derwatt.

Me too.

For a moment, I thought that...

Well, what if he wasn't
dead, Jeff?

Then he's a better actor
than you are.

No, no, no. I'm serious.

What if he isn't dead yet?

Then what?

Are you suggesting that
we postpone the announcement?

-Oh, no.
-For God's sake, Jeff.

I was talking about through
the weekend, Bernard.

I don't-- I don't like this.

His paintings would sell out.

Then we re-stage this tragedy.

Yeah.

Only Jeffrey benefits.

It's not about that.
I barely cover my costs.

I can't believe you.

Derwatt's corpse
is sitting here, staring at me

and you're talking
about selling his paintings.

All right, fine.

You know what,
Bernard's probably right.

We can't do this.

Not while he's lying here.

We've got to move
the body, Jeff.

Better get rid of the car first

-Is anyone listening to me?
-Shh!

You're going to wake Heloise!

Bernard, get the flashlight.

This Is immoral.

Just keep telling yourself,

it's the only way that
Derwatt's work will survive.

Okay, maybe.

Or maybe it's the only way
Jeff will survive.

Jeff, give me a hand.
Take his legs.

Shh!

Okay.

Okay.

-Oh, oh, watch it.
-Shh!

The light's on the left.

Here, you hold him a second.

This suit's ruined.

Is there anything in there?

-Pork pie.
-Ugh.

'97. High time
you clean this out, Jeff.

Oh, come on, Tom.

This isn't right.

This isn't right at all.

He's slipping.

All right, give him to me.

Okay.

Oh, God.

Whatever.

-Ready?
-Ready.

One, two, three.

God.

Come here.

We loved him, too.
That's why we're doing this.

You can see that, can't you?

And not a word about this
to sleeping beauty, all right?

Not a word.

So, we drop everybody off
Jeff loans me the Jag,

I drive Heloise home.

The hell I will.

Yeah, you know what?

Maybe Bernard's right.

Maybe it's wrong
to keep Derwatt alive.

Thank you.

Mademoiselle,you are home.

Merci.

But you knew
how that I live here, Tom?

I, uh, checked
your student card.

I didn't want to wake you,

so I took the liberty
of checking your purse.

Wow, that's very considerate
of you.

Thank you.

Good luck, Tom.

Okay. Goodbye.

-Am I so unpleasant?
-What?

Am I too unpleasant
that you wouldn't ask

to see me again?

Well, actually,
to tell you the truth

I took your number, too.

Well, I see, huh?

You should tell a woman these,
so she doesn't worry.

Yeah, I suppose.

Did my purse
also happen to tell you

that I leave first thing
in the morning for Paris?

No.

-For how long?
-Forever.

Well, so I guess
this really is goodbye.

Goodbye, Tom.

Goodbye.

-Am I so ugly?
-I'm sorry?

Am I so ugly
you wouldn't try to kiss me?

I don't know you well enough
for that, Tom.

Goodbye.

45-31-22-45.

Wait, wait! What? What?

My number in Paris.

All I'm saying is

Oh, hold on.

Neil Murchison.

And you are Ms. Parker,
Jeff Constant's assistant.

I remember you very well,
Mr. Murchison, sir.

-So nice to see you again.
-The pleasure is all mine.

And what a pleasure to be here
on this special day.

-Please.
-Thank you.

Hello, my darling.
How are you?

Thanks so much for--
Oh, serpentine lady.

Claire, isn't it?
Thank you for coming.

Mr. Constant.

-Look who's here.
-Congratulations, sir.

We're as delighted as you are.

But of course,
what did I tell you?

What did you tell me?

That Derwatt would be a success.

Neil Murchison, remember?

Yes, yes. Of course,
Mr. Murchison

-from, uh, Iowa.
-Close.

-Ohio, actually.
-Ohio. Ohio.

Dayton Museum
of Contemporary Art.

Or as we like to call it,
the Bilbao of the mid-West.

-Yes. You're the curator.
-No, no, no.

I'm strictly an amateur

writing checks
and raising money.

But I know what I like
and I want to remind you,

that the Dayton Contemporary
start collecting Derwatt

full two years
before the Tate.

Well, then,
I should congratulate you, sir.

Your people got a bargain.

Oh, it's not a question
of money.

We regard Derwatt
as a significant artist.

His work represents
an important return to painting

and we enjoy it.

Myself and Mrs. Murchison.

We sit and look
at his paintings for hours,

until the pigment
starts to speak.

Our relationship to paint
is very intense.

Yes, I can imagine it is.

All I meant was,
that the, uh, market has changed

since you bought.

The prices have gone up
considerably.

I read the papers, too,
Mr. Constant.

That's why,
I wrote this check,

without even trying to haggle,

as much as I hate to pay
full freight for anything.

Oh, but this one's sold.

You're kidding.

No, no. I was just going
to put the red dot on.

To one of the buyers
from the Tate.

There must be something else!

I'm sorry.
We're sold out.

-Sold out?
-Mm-hmm.

-You knew I was coming.

I flew 4,000 miles
for this show,

to finally meet Mr. Derwatt

and to buy
a couple of paintings.

I'm terribly sorry,
but there's nothing I can do.

Oh, I see.

You're holding something back,
waiting for the prices to go up.

Believe me,
if I had anything,

I would love
to sell it at these prices.

Good.
Why don't you take this check

in exchange for his next
piece of work?

-Oh, no, I couldn't possibly.
-Well, what's the problem?

It's not like Derwatt is going
to stop painting.

No, of course not.

Well why won't you
accept my check?

I am his first collector.

Yes, of course you are.

Good.

So, then,
the next Derwatt is yours.

Oh, yes.

Thank you.

Now, if you'll excuse me.

Tom!

-Sorry to keep you waiting.
-No problem.

Oversold.
What a difference a day makes.

And this
is for a Derwatt painting,

that doesn't even exist.

Make a killing,
then, did we?

Lots of profits to divvy up?

No.

I sold enough to nearly
pay off my debts,

what with the overdraft,
the taxes...

Oh, so Derwatt gets his fame

but you get his fortune?

You are going to screw him,
Jeffrey.

Will you two stop bickering,
please?

We need to get down
to business, Jeff.

The poor bugger
needs a proper burial.

Absolutely, yes.

Tom, this was your idea.
What were you thinking?

No, no,
you're his business partner.

I thought you'd like
to take care of it.

What are these, Jeff?

My brilliant partner's
unfinished works.

Could've been worth a mint.

Christ. I could drop this one
downstairs.

It looks complete to me.

-Yeah.
-Oh, God, Jeff, it does.

Run it down
and cover some more expenses.

No! It's clearly not finished.

How can you say that?

It's art.
Who's to say what's finished

-and what's not?
-Derwatt always added a grid

of some sort to the painting
at the end.

Now you're just being
argumentative.

No, I'll show you.

Look...

if we start with some Derwattish
style images, say,

a nude,

or, um, or a scar,

a bird, whatever.

Derwatt's easy to imitate.

His technique with rudimentary.

It was his balls
that made him a star.

Now, a lot of painters
start with one

but he always finished
with a grid of some sort.

That's a Derwatt.

My God, Bernard,
that's amazing.

Wow.

How long would it take you
to do this in oils, Bernard?

Well, um...

Why?

Well, what if Derwatt
wasn't dead

and all of these were complete,
all of these?

Imagine how enriched
the world would be.

At least how enriched
Jeff would be.

-And Derwatt's heirs.
-What heirs?

You know he's got no family.

Exactly, Cynthia.

Which is why he would have
wanted his money

to go
to his four closest friends.

A four-way split,
after expenses.

It is what Derwatt
would have wanted.

He actually often spoke
about it.

Bullshit.
He never did.

Cyn, tell them.

I think that he'd be happy
for us to have the money.

Provided that got the fame,

-that was what he cared about.
-I can't believe you.

-Are you serious?
-And look.

Don't even have to return it.

No!
No, no!

Stop, you wanker!

Power kill switch.
Security feature.

Bernard, could you excuse
us for a second?

Obviously,
we can't do this

-without Bernard.
-Mm-hm.

He'd do anything
if you'd sleep with him.

Hmm.
Well, what do you think?

One shag per painting?

Might take more than that.

Mm. I'm joking!

-I'm not.
-Shh.

We're going to have to pull
together

to make this work, all right?

I'm talking an even split
a no expenses, Jeff.

Oh, what are you going
to give him, Tom?

A reason.

Everyone's been focusing
on Derwatt's talent.

His hype, his flash, whatever.

The real question is
what about your talent, Bernard?

What's your point?

Who was the better artist,
you or Derwatt?

-Me.
-Yeah, of course you were.

But who got the shows,
the attention,

the galleries, the critics,
the girls? He did.

Why is that?

Because things don't always
work out fairly in this world.

Exactly.
Life isn't fair for real talent.

Fate isn't fair.

People as sure
as hell aren't fair.

Answer me this.

How many of Derwatt's great
inspirational ideas came to him

when he was having
a pint with you?

A lot of them.

Except I don't see your name
any of his canvasses.

-Do you, Jeff?
-No.

No, the hard fact
is that you could die

and no would even know
you're a genius.

I'm talented.
I'm not a genius

Oh, yes, you are, darling.

It's clear
from your work.

It's subtle, sophisticated,
much more than Derwatt's.

You don't know how many times
I wanted to give you a show,

But, oh, the critics.

-Too risky.
-Well, the fact is,

we can give you
your shot of greatness

because you deserve it.

You're bastardizing Derwatt.

Not at all.
We're immortalizing him.

And this time
it's just the work, no bullshit,

no superficial
focus personalities.

It's just your work.

-With his signature.
-Exactly.

Exactly.
We're deconstructing Derwatt.

Oh, how postmodern.

You just said it yourself.

Life isn't fair.

So now all you gotta do
is decide.

You going to go
on being a victim

or take what's yours?

You know,
you're not alone in this.

We'll hold your hand
through the entire process.

We're going to be richer
than God.

"Each new canvas
displayed a purity of vision

with his explosive passion
and reclusive ways,

Derwatt is that near-extinct mix
of satire profit

and pied piper."

"Derwatt's paintings reflect
the same courage

with which he skewers
the pretention

of the art world."

Yeah, it's me again.

Could you tell her
that I'm coming to Paris

on business
and I'd love to see her.

You're coming to Paris?
When?

Tomorrow afternoon.

Oh, one moment.

I believe I hear
Mademoiselle Plisson.

Un, deux, trois, quatre.

Hello, Tom.

It's so wonderful
to finally speak with you.

Merci.

Merci.

-Hello, Tom. Welcome.
-Hi! Hey!

Attila! Attila!
Allez-vous en!

Hey.

Sorry, Tom.
They're very protective.

They're worse
than Papa sometimes.

Hi there.

Hello.

Oh, I got something for you.

For your garden.

Nothing much, but...

Got a little battered
on the way over, but--

Well, then,
let's find it a home. Come.

Well, let's hope they make it.

Ah, you don't have to worry.

There's something magical
about the soil at Belle Ombre.

What do you mean magical?

There's actually a legend
about it.

The story goes that a beautiful
witch enchanted a marquis

into building this place
for her.

She cast a spell
on everything here that you see

so that it would flourish
and grow.

I like that.

So when did your family
move here?

The first day.

That witch
was my great, great,

great, great grandmere.

Antoine Plisson.

Delighted to meet you.

Pleasure to meet you, sir.

Forgive my English.

I'm rather rusty,

but I expect you
to remedy this

-while you're here.
-Oh, I don't know.

Your English impeccable, sir.

Heloise told me
a little about you.

I'm dying to hear more.

Ever since
Heloise's mother died,

we prefer to stay here
at Bell Ombre.

St. Tropez is not what it was.

Too much glitz and stuff.
So vulgar.

And all the fakes,
the fortune hunters...

Hmm.
Shameless, like bad actors.

Yes, I do have a problem,

or more precisely,
you have problem.

This Derwatt
is not painted by Derwatt.

We are rich as sin.

To Derwatt.

Oh, and of course,
to Bernard, too.

To you,
and me and Bernard.

We've all come so far.

Mm.
Time to take a break.

We don't want to flood
the market after all.

And it's time for Bernard
to start working

on his own things
for his own exhibition...

as promised.

You've made me
so deliriously happy.

I feel stronger,
more, well, me.

Oh, I'm so glad.

It's always good to end
on a high note, sweetheart.

To the end of our beautiful
relationship.

Hello.

Yes, this is he.

Jesus H. Christ.

C'est jolie.It's lovely, Tom.

It was my mother's.

I had to leave home
when I was really young.

She gave it to me
before I left.

Am I so repulsive?

What?

Am I so repulsive that
you wouldn't try to kiss me?

Kiss me.

Time to say good night, Tom.

Thank you, Tom.

You're welcome.

Hi.

Back before you know it, okay?

Where the hell are you?

What's your problem?

Our problem, Tom.
Our problem.

A Herculean problem.

Our American friend is back,

claiming his new Derwatt
is a fake.

All right, calm down.
What American?

Murchison.

The one who gave me the check
for the future Derwatts.

Well, I convinced him
to wait until I talked to him.

But what are we
going to do, Tom?

I don't know, Tom.

Faking a picture's one
thing, but this...

It's all forgery, Jeff.

I don't get the distinction.

Uh, where are you going?

I need to lie down.

He's on edge.

Yes, well...

If you painted Derwatt's
nightmares nonstop,

you'd be half mad as well.

And you didn't exactly
help things did you?

Wait a second.

I thought Cynthia
and Bernard were fine.

She cut him off before
the last painting was dry.

-Enough is enough.
-Oh, for fuck sakes, Cyn.

You are sitting on a fortune.

Literally.

Once these paintings
have been sold,

the collectors will be begging
for more.

You fuck Bernard.

Bernard paints Derwatts.

We all die very, very rich.

And Bernard can paint Derwatts
from scratch now.

We could keep this
going on forever.

You're not my pimp.

No, but that does not stop you
from being a whore!

-Shut up.
-Bastard.

Just shut up for a second
and listen to me.

All right.
Here's a letter from Derwatt

authenticating the painting.
You give that to Murchison,

he'll be on the next plane
for home happy as a clam.

I'm going back to see Heloise.

Here's her number.

You have any problems,
you call me, all right?

Okay.

Is everyone satisfied?

Will it work?

Yes.

If Jeff can keep the coke off
his lapel.

It's very trying managing
a crisis.

That's for calling me a whore.

It's not important
who this is.

Um, just don't buy
any more Derwatts.

Ask to see Derwatt.

Forget about how I know.

No!

Ask to see Derwatt.

You know word gets around,
whatever. Just do it.

Hey, Bernard.

Did you spill
a little turpentine?

What are you doing, man?

Oh, God.

What's with the turpentine?

Get away.
Get away!

-Oh, is he--
-Give me the lighter.

-No, get away.
-Good God.

-Get away from me.
-He's going to kill himself.

-Calm down.
-Give it to me.

-He's going to kill himself.
-No please. Stay away from me.

-It's all right.
-Stop him!

I'm begging you, or I'll light!
I'm dead anyway.

And leave me alone.
You lying-- go away, go away!

-Stop it!
-Go away!

Give me-- give it here.

It's okay, it's okay.

"And if he
is dissatisfied,

he would do better to ask
for the return of his money

than to put it about that
this is some kind of fake."

Strong letter.

So many artists these days,
they're practically illiterate.

It makes me feel
a little better.

Oh, good. It certainly put
my mind at rest.

There's nothing worse
than questions of authenticity.

Nothing worse
than thinking

you've been take for a fool.

Yes, of course. If you
have any further doubts...

Uh, I'd like to hang onto that.

The thing is actually--

Why don't I just make a copy
for you?

All right.

You know what does occur to me?

Yeah, what's that?

If Derwatt's abroad and sending
the paintings back,

then perhaps something
is happening with the shipping.

Maybe they aren't getting
recorded correctly.

Wouldn't it be amazing
if Derwatt himself

was being cheated?

I don't understand.
What do you mean?

Well, what if Derwatts
are being forged?

Being painted right here
in London?

Amazing.

I thought
about going to the Tate

to ask their opinion
and even going to the police,

but I thought
that might get messy.

Might I say how much
I appreciate

that you understand
the delicacy of this situation?

I do.

And that's why I decided to wait
until I spoke with you,

and of course,
Derwatt himself.

Speak with him?

I have a little theory
I'd like to try out on the man.

Do you have his phone number?

-Whose?
-Derwatt's.

Well, he's still abroad.

You must have a contact number.

Well, actually, the thing is I--

I prefer to talk to Derwatt

before I talk to the police.

Don't you think that's wise?

Yes, of course.

Good thinking.

I think I may actually have
that number over here.

Oh, look.
Yes. Here it is!

Uh, uh, that's okay.
I'll copy it myself.

Chateau Belle Ombre.
Where is that?

Oh, it's in France somewhere.
Could be anywhere.

It's an enormous country,
France.

Not by American standards.

Yeah, it's open.

Disgrace, ruin!

What? Murchison didn't buy
the letter?

He wants to see Derwatt
face-to-face, man-to-man.

Tough shit. Tell him Derwatt
doesn't want to see him.

He has the address, Tom.
He's off to France.

What address?

I had to give him
that phone number you gave me.

-Oh, Jeff.
-What else was I supposed to do?

Tell him to call Bernard.

Next thing I know
he's on the bloody Internet

and got the address.
Christ, I hate the Internet.

When's he leaving?

Went straight to Waterloo.
I hate the Channel Tunnel, too.

All this faster
communications crap

has caused us nothing but grief
if you ask me.

Monsieur?

Monsieur Tom!

Hi.

But she is gone.

Monsieur Plisson took her
to Paris this afternoon

-then they have dinner.
-Oh.

Mademoiselle
will be so disappointed.

Do you think it'd be all right
if I stayed and surprised her?

She'd be so happy to see you!

Only I was just leaving.

I have to go to the village.

-Will you need me?
-No, no.

If you're from the press,

piss off!

Mr. Derwatt?

No, I'm not a reporter
or a critic.

I'm Neil Murchison.

And I gotta tell you,
it's a real honor

to finally meet you.

Would you like a drink?

No, thanks. Only weddings
and holidays for me, sir.

So, I believe I wrote you
a letter about Faust's Bargain.

What can I tell you?

Well,
I believe you painted

a painting
called Faust's Bargain

but I just know
that the picture sold to me

is 100% fake.

Now why would you think that?

A picture's worth
a thousand words, right?

Do you mind?

No question that's my work.

It's close, sure, but...

look here.

Cobalt blue.
And there.

And here.

And all through here.

Cobalt blue!

So?

Whenever I start a new project

I like to go down
to the library,

or go online
and read every damn thing.

And I love cobalt blue.

No, you used to.

But then, no cobalt blue
for the last year,

not in any of them.

And now it's back
and it's in my painting.

It's not a conscious choice,
you know.

Stick with me on this,
will you?

This is my theory.

Once an artist has used
a certain color

at a certain period,
then consciously

or unconsciously,

abandons the color
in a later period.

He never reverts
to that abandoned color again.

You see?
Do you see?

What did you do for a living,
Mr. Murchison, huh?

I'm in construction.

But you're not an artist,
are you?

No, well,
I wasn't trained

as an architect either,
but when I donate something

to the city of Dayton

I want to make damn sure
we're not getting screwed.

This is my work.

Definitely.

And I would believe you,
if you were Derwatt.

You forgot what turpentine does

to an artist's fingernails,
didn't you?

You don't even have
any calluses.

Where is he?
Why are you doing this?

It was an accident.

Derwatt's dead.

-When?
-The night of his opening.

Oh, I knew it. You're a friend
of Jeff Constant.

You're in it together.

You've betrayed
an artist's vision.

I'm not going to let you cheat
the good people of Dayton.

This painting will put Dayton
on the map.

Dayton is on the map,
you little shit.

What are you doing?
Hey! Hey!

Give it to me.

Get off me.

No, you can't.

That's evidence.

-Get the hell off.
-That's evidence!

-Just listen to me please.
-Stay away!

Just listen to me for a second.

Nietzsche!

Nietzsche.

The name's, uh, Murchison.

I need to change
my reservation tonight.

Uh,15.

Come on.

Merci.

Come on, guys. Let's go.

Nietzsche, Attila, Caesar.
Come on.

Come on, boy. Let's go! Come on!

Tom? You came back already.

I had to see you.

I hope this is all right.

Annette told me
to just make myself at home.

Of course,
there's no problem.

Ah.

I am so sorry.
I, uh, I'm so clumsy.

Yes.

I think my great,
great grandfather

paid hardly anything for it.

I'm so clumsy.
I feel terrible.

It's okay. It's okay.

Marvelous, those tomatoes.

You must be Tom,

uh, one of the partners
in Derwatt Limited.

I'm sorry. You are?

Oh, uh, my name is Webster.
I'm a detective of sorts.

London Metropolitan Police.
How do you do?

Bit of a way from Scotland Yard
isn't it?

Now, what do you use
to get them so perfect?

-Sunshine, water and love.

You were saying?

I was saying?

What a British policeman
is doing in France.

-Vacation?
-Oh, alas, no.

I'm here officially working
with the local authorities,

of course.

It seems a certain
well-connected

American businessman
by the name of Murchison

was supposed to arrive
in London a few days ago

and failed to do so.

Now, according to his wife,
Murchison was coming here

to talk with this painter,
Derwatt,

about some possible forgery.

Mm, not exactly.
Murchison was here,

but to talk about Derwatt
not with him.

-Oh, really?
-Mm-hmm.

Well, his wife
was very clear on that point.

No, no. Fact is,
these days, uh,

Derwatt doesn't see anybody.

Oh, oh, right.

So Mr. Murchison
came to see you, Tom?

And what transpired
between you two?

Well, I was able
to put his mind at ease

and he left here completely
reassured of his painting.

I don't believe you.

How's that?

There is no way you could get
such marvelous tomatoes

without some special
fertilizer.

Well, they do say
there's something magical

-about this soil here.
-Oh, gosh,

it wouldn't be hard to get
used to this kind of life,

now would it?

So how do you know
Murchison didn't just cut loose?

Men like Murchison don't go off
on spur-of-the-moment sprees.

They like their sprees
to be scheduled.

They keep their demons
on a tight rein.

-Oh, was there an accident?
-What's that?

The dust on top
of this pedestal.

The clean circle
in the middle of it.

Did something fall off?

Yeah, I knocked off a vase.

Oh, ho, ho. Naughty boy.

It was a nice one.

So, after you allayed

whatever fears
Mr. Murchison may have had

about his painting,

what happened?

Oh, well, he stayed a little
longer than he expected,

so he had to change
his train reservation.

So after he made the call,
I drove to La Gare du Nord

and that was the last time
I saw him.

What time did he book
his reservation?

Oh, it was30-ish.

Oh, what a remarkable memory
you have.

The phone records say32.

You checked the phone records.

Yes.

Oh, speak of the devil.
Do you mind?

Oh, sure. Please.

Hello?

Yeah, I'm here.

We're in a really nasty jam,
do you hear me?

Yeah, I'm a little distracted
at the moment, Jeff.

Just-- Just take it slow,
all right?

How do you do?
My name is Webster.

Shit.

I've had the police around.

It seems Murchison's
been kidnapped or something.

What do you mean kidnapped?
Are you kidding?

Yes, well, th-- they say
he never made it back to London.

You didn't knock him over
the head or anything, did you?

Yeah, and I buried him
in the backyard, Jeff.

Could you just focus?

The thing
is before he went to see you,

he made several phone calls

and I've already had reporters
calling me here.

I-- I told them that Murchison
would set them straight

but if he's disappeared
we're going to have

the press
all over us, Tom

and our trousers
around our ankles.

Tom?
Tom, are you there?

Look, just schedule
a press conference

for tomorrow night
at the gallery.

I'll meet you
at the studio beforehand.

-Okay?
-Have you been listening to me?

I'm trying to avoid the press.

Just tell them
Derwatt will be there.

He'll answer
all their questions.

Derwatt?

He'll answer
all their questions.

Tom, are you insane?

Shit.

Tom? Tom?

Christ, I hate mobile phones.

Sorry about that.

It must be frustrating for you.

So little to go on.

Oh, I'm not worried.
Not at all.

Clues are rather
like cigarette ash in bed.

Sooner or later
the smoke begins to rise.

Hey, Bernard.

Oh,
y-- you wouldn't happen

to be Mr. Bernard Sales

of Derwatt Limited, would you?

What a stroke of luck.
Why are you doing here?

My girlfriend just left me
and I came to see Tom.

Aw.

Well, hey.
Come in.

All right.
Let me cut straight

to the heart of the matter.

These alleged forgeries
to your knowledge,

was there anyone,
absolutely anyone at all

who might have borne
Mr. Murchison ill will

-because of them?
-No.

No one at Derwatt Limited?

Well, surely,
Surely he could be seen

as a threat
to the firm's reputation.

-That's ridiculous.
-Bernard?

Well, of course,
not to my knowledge. No.

You must know
that, uh, Mr. Murchison

called his wife several times
when he was in London.

-She's most insistent on that.
-Huh.

He wasn't very well liked

by your company,
was he?

-Some people thought--
-No.

Mr. Murchison was dissatisfied
with one painting,

not the entire gallery.

-Bernard?
-No.

Well...

Hello!

-Bernard!
-Hello.

-What a lovely surprise.
-Yeah.

And who is our guest?

Um, Mr. Webster
of Scotland Yard.

-How do you do?
-Pleased to meet you.

He's, uh, here, apparently,
because one of our clients

has gone missing.

That's awful.

If you think of anything,
anything at all,

contact me at the Hotel Duchamp

which is, just down the road.
I shall be having supper

with my French colleagues.

Here, let me give you my card.

-"Little Bombay Take-Away."

Please forgive me.
I'm terribly sorry.

Give you that one.

Mademoiselle,
would you be so kind

as to speak to me
on the way out?

Of course.

Nietzsche.

To the right.

Tell me, Mademoiselle,

what exactly do you know
about your boyfriend?

I know his childhood
was very painful.

I make it my job
that his time with me is not.

-You understand, no?
-Yes, I do.

-So, you're amused by me?

No, no, no, on the contrary.
I'm, I'm, most impressed.

Good day, Mademoiselle.

Good day.

I wish you would have
let me call a cab.

No way.
I'm driving you myself.

I thought you were going
to confess the whole

-bloody thing back there.
-It's driving me mad.

But most of the time
I feel like I'm Derwatt.

And now it's as if I'm faking
me now, you know?

I can't bear it any longer.

I'm going to tell Webster
everything,

just like I told Murchison.

-You told Murchison what?
-To ask to see Derwatt.

You're an idiot, Bernard.

You know, you have no idea

what you're talking about,
do you?

Tom, you can't just do
something like this

-without paying a price.
-No? Why?

The universe won't allow it.

-God won't allow it.
-Oh, you need absolution.

Fine, Bernard.
I'll show you absolution.

What would you be willing to do
for love, Bernard?

I'm cold, Tom. Please.

I mean true love.

The kind that can lift a man

from the darkest depths
of hell.

The kind that isn't--
that isn't worth living without.

What would you be willing to do
for a love like that?

I suppose I'd be willing
to sacrifice

just about anything.

Anything? Well, then you won.

You're scaring me.

Shine the flashlight
right here.

What are you doing?

You're the one
who really killed him, Bernard.

The minute you told him
to see Derwatt,

you dug his grave.

You can confess
to God Himself

but you will not get clean
in this.

No, no. God, no!

You can't run from this,
all right?

Uh, look, it's very important
that I need to see--

I need to look to see the, uh...

-the policeman.

It's him! I'm not sorry.

You're not sorry about what?

I'm not sorry I killed Tom.

No, no, no, no, no, no,

this is wrong.
This is-- This all wrong.

The man was buried here.

No, no. It was-- It was--
The body, it was buried here.

No. A-- And Tom--
Tom was on that spot over there

and he was dead.
He was dead. I'm certain.

Are you?

Look, the-- the rain.

The rain must have filled up
the pit.

No, no!

It can't be true now.

There.

That's a Derwatt, right?
I'm not mad.

I want a body, Bernard.

I'm not interested in some
flipping little art fiddle.

I want a body.

Murchison, Derwatt.
I don't care which.

And if you don't help me now
I won't help you later.

Derwatt's body's
in Jeff's cottage.

It's in the countryside
somewhere

about an hour's drive
from London.

I can't tell you precisely
where it is

but I-- I know I can find it.

What happened to you?

Oh, I had an accident.

Let me do it.

Here, let go.

Oh, it's bad.

How did this happen?

Well, you know
when you want something...

something so extraordinary,
but it's out of your reach?

Well, sometimes you just have
to do very difficult things.

What more difficult things
are left for you to do?

Just one.

I have to go back to London
immediately.

Then I'll go with you.

Bonjour.Thank you.

You wouldn't think I used to be
a boxer, would you?

To look at me, I mean.

Oh, well. Such is life.

You know, Bernard, all I had
to do is take this card

with your friend
Tom's fingerprints on it

and give it to my French chums.

And my goodness,
he's got quite a lot of form.

There's forgery,
credit card theft,

identity fraud.

He thinks he's
a very clever lad, I'm sure.

Bonjour, MonsieurWebster.

Oh.

Oh, you stupid

You stupid clumsy fellow!
What's...

He's on the train.

Hey.

Come on. Wake up.

I'll go this way.
You go that way.

-Come here. Come on.
-Slow down.

If you see him,
come and find me immediately.

-Now go.
-Excuse me.

-Sorry.
-Tom.

You see, I have this--
this mortal fever

and the cure's on your lips.

-Come on.
-Wait.

Come on. Come on. Come on.

And what motor
would you like, sir?

Whatever you have is fine.

How about something sporty?

Just go straight ahead.

Back in a second.

Do you need any help?

No. I'm good, thanks.

Okay. Whatever you say.

I shouldn't be long.

Sorry.

I think it's on the right.

Hey there.

Mm-hmm.

Oh.

All right.

I'm sorry, I-- yeah.

I think it must have been
on the left.

Sorry.

Hey, did you get
what you needed?

Yeah.
It's all good.

Your hands are like ice.

There it is!

Let's go out the back way.

I want to see more
of the forest.

Yes, ma'am.

I seem to remember it
from a dream.

So strange.

Oh, no!

If you drive any faster,

time will start
to go backwards.

-What?
-If you drive any faster,

we'll go faster
than the speed of light

and time will start
to go backwards.

That means I get to fall
in love with you all over again.

Yes, I think our friend Tom
is behind this

and I think we ought
to bring him in.

And the other one, too.

What?

What, a press conference
with Derwatt?

According to, uh, to Bernard,
he's as dead as a doornail.

So it'll be really fascinating
to see who turns up.

Well, of course
I'm going to go.

Yeah, I might be able to bag
the lot of them.

Oh, bloody hell.
He's done a runner.

When the rabbits run,
that's when the dogs show up.

All right.

I'll be back soon.

-But if I'm not...
-Mm-mm-mm.

You'll be back soon.

You are not always careful,
Tom.

Promise me you'll be careful.

I promise.

You could be involved
in a murder investigation.

-Murder?
-Murder?

Murder, fraud,

body snatching too,

according to your associate,
Bernard Sayles

Of course he'll walk away
from most of this,

having been so very helpful
to the police.

As for this proposed press
conference with Derwatt,

if Mr. Ripley shows up

don't let him know
anything's amiss.

Whatever he says,
go along with it.

I want to give him
enough rope

so that he can hang himself.

So to speak.

So to speak.

Oh, God.

Sorry.

Do you think we should lay on
some drinks for the press?

Absolutely.

It's my funeral and after all,

what's a good funeral
without tons of booze?

Now don't start
spiraling, Jeffrey.

It's all falling down
around our heads.

You're coked off your head,
aren't you?

Darling, if I were any higher,
I'd be talking to Jesus.

Listen!
We tell the police everything!

Really?

Murderers force people
to do things.

We were frightened
for our lives. Hold this.

Well, now that you mention it,

I mean, he did scare me
a little.

And after all, what are a few
extra charges

when you're accused
of murder?

And anyway,
it'll serve him right

for dragging us into this
bloody train wreck.

-Kicking and screaming, huh?

Oh, my God. I think
I've just had a stroke.

You see as I recall,
I dragged you guys

kicking and screaming
all the way to the bank.

So what'll "serve me right,"
Jeff?

It'll serve
you right if...

-if they laugh at you.

-I mean...
-Yes.

...I don't know
what you have in mind,

unless you plan to go
into a room full of journalists

and try to impersonate Derwatt.

Oh, my God! You are!

-You're not. Are you?
-Shut up.

Oh, hey.

I just saw Inspector Webster
leave here a minute ago.

-Really?
-Oh.

So, I assume
he got to you, did he?

That's right, Tom, he did.

Well, you're a murderer.

Darling, you know that I would
do anything for you,

but we really do need
to take care of ourselves here.

Oh, hey, just for the record,
I'm not a murderer.

Right. Okay.

Even though I do have
a dead body in the car.

Anyway, I don't have time
to argue about all of that

if I'm going to get ready
to meet with the press.

But I just can't have you guys
talking to the police anymore.

Yes, Tom.

I mean, who knows what
you're liable to tell them.

-Nothing.
-Really. Absolutely nothing.

-We wouldn't say a word.
-My lips are sealed.

-Oh.

Ah, I really wish
I could trust you guys.

Because if you kept
your mouths shut,

everything could turn out
just fine.

So just take some time
to think about it, all right?

Well, at least
he didn't kill us.

I never thought
he was going to.

Yes, you did!

Take me to see Derwatt's body.

What are you doing with that?
Are you crazy?

So they say.

Go on, get in, get in.

It's Oliver, Sir.
They're just leaving.

Thank you.

How much farther?

Oh, very close, Bernard.
Very close.

I can't believe I did it.

Did what?

Stopped you
before it was too late.

Oh, yeah? How do you figure?

You're evil, Tom.
You know that?

Everything you do is evil.
You're not human, Tom.

Well, it's true.

I haven't always been
a good person, Bernard.

But an angel descended,

and since then
I've really tried.

An angel?

What, you don't believe
in angels?

No, I don't believe
you'll ever see one.

See that's where you're wrong.

A beautiful, golden angel
descended upon me

and has led me to the path
of righteousness.

-How can that be evil, huh?
-Shut up!

Everyone says I'm crazy.
I'm the crazy one.

-But it's you, Tom.

You're fucked in the head,
mate.

In one ear and out the other
going backwards.

You're fucked in the head.

Tom, for God's sake, stop it!

Tom, I'm serious.

Turn that fucking thing down!
I'm serious!

Shit.

Tom. What's that?

We're getting fumes in
from the tank, Tom.

No, no.

It's just the gasoline
in the back seat, Bernard.

What?

There's a can of gas
behind your seat.

Well, why is there a can of gas
behind my seat?

So the car can burn
when we crash.

-But why would you crash it?
-Oh, I'm not going to crash it.

But what?

Derwatt is.

Bloody Christ!

I can't feel my legs, Tom.

Tom!

Tom, what are you doing?
What are you doing?

Don't leave me in here
with him.

Get me out of here.
Tom, please.

What are you doing?
Get me out of here.

Stop, Tom.

I can't feel my legs, Tom.

I can't move my legs, mate.

What you doing?

Tom, get me out!

You got to help me, mate.

You're a monster.

Get me out!

Tom, get me out of here!

Oh, you bastard!
You sick bastard!

I just saved
your miserable life, Bernard.

So he starts yelling

and waving his gun around
like a lunatic saying,

"I'm Derwatt.
I'm the real Derwatt."

You know,
and he really believes it.

So they're screaming
back and forth,

and Derwatt's driving
like a maniac as usual.

And Bernard's waving the gun
around like a lunatic.

Now, wait.
Derwatt was in the car with you?

Yeah.

Fascinating story.

There's someone's in there.

You're telling me
that that's Derwatt?

Oh, yeah, of course.
It's like I've been telling you.

We were on our way
to the press conference.

They got into an argument,
and the next thing I know,

we're wrapped around a tree.

And I suppose, uh,
quite conveniently,

that Derwatt's life is insured
for millions by your company?

That, I wouldn't know,
but that's entirely possible.

And you think this
little house of cards

would stand up
in a court of law?

Yeah, I do.

In fact, I think the evidence
will speak for itself.

What about Bernard?

What about
what he says happened?

Personally, I think Bernard
suffered a nervous breakdown.

Just last week,
he tried to kill himself.

if it wasn't for Jeff
and Cynthia and I,

he wouldn't be here.

And here's the kicker.
Tonight he tells me I'm evil

and that he thought
that he'd killed me.

I did kill you,
and I'll kill you again...

-you evil bastard!
-I don't think it would be fair

to drag Bernard into court.

I'm going to get him, I am!

I can't see how his testimony
would hold weight.

Oh, this dance isn't over yet.

Not by a stretch.

Hey, you guys.

I thought you could use
a little bubbly.

You are an angel.

-Good luck.
-Enjoy the show.

Bye.

I always knew
that Tom would land on his feet.

Absolutely.

You know what this room
really needs?

-What?
-A great big Derwatt.

There's a gentleman
waiting downstairs for you.

Oh, merci,Sophie.

Ah, what impeccable timing.

If my timing was impeccable,
you'd be behind bars now.

Did you know that invitations
were required

-for these occasions?
-Oh, don't be inhospitable.

I've brought you
a wedding present.

Remember this?

No.

Well, how could you?

Bernard painted it
while he was relaxing

in the sanatorium.

Yeah, I see he signed
Derwatt's signature, too.

Sure hope he wasn't arrested
for forgery.

No, on the contrary.
I was most appreciative.

Well, obviously
it's-- it's a crime scene.

-Mm-hmm.
-There you are

lying on the ground,
knocked unconscious by Bernard

and there is the late
Neil Murchison.

Now, I didn't recognize him
at first.

So, on a hunch,
I called his wife.

Now, according
to Mrs. Murchison,

hardly anyone knew that
her husband wore a toupee.

-Really?
-Bernard knew.

Bernard had seen him
without his toupee.

Bernard was painting him
from life...

or rather death.

Hmm.

Let me show you something.

I've always wondered whether
you really had green fingers

or whether, as you say,
there was something magical

about the soil of Belle Ombre.

Well, let's see
if it's magical enough

to make a body vanish.

Mr. Plisson has taken
a keen interest

in all the gardening
you've been doing recently.

Well, you're welcome to play
in the garden all you like.

But you'll have to excuse me,
because it's my wedding day.

I'm not beaten yet.

So that'll be
your little secret.

Am I so ugly
you don't want to kiss me?

Did you know that her father's
a widower?

-Really?
-Mm.

Oh, by the way, darling,

what did you do
with our friend from Ohio?

I'm glad you reminded me.

We have to make a stop
before the airport.

Sweetheart,
you think of everything.

I try.

Such a perfect place
for a wedding.

We should really find a way
to thank your father.

I think the nicest way
we could thank Papa

is help him to move on...

to a better world.

And all of this will be ours.