All language subtitles for Les autres (1974) eng

Cut!

Hey, old man!

I came to Touraine, almost every year,
to stay in my grandfather's village.

- He had arrived at...
- Stop!

Built by medieval Freemasons
to ensure the transmission

of symbols and the
hermetic doctrine,

our great cathedrals exerted
a remarkable influence on

many more modest examples
of civil or religious architecture.

In the western jamb of the portico
we see a small sculpted angel

holding a stone circle in his hands.

Flamel had had a black marble
circle inserted there

with a fine gold fillet in
the shape of a cross.

Kill him!

Kill him!

Kill him!

- Go!
- Cut!

The hermetic topics of the stylobate are
developed on two overlapping rows

to the right and left of the portico.

The lower row consists
of twelve medallions

and the upper row of twelve figures.

Do you see? It represents characters
sitting on plinths

adorned with vertical flutings that are
sometimes concave, sometimes angular,

and are located between the columns
on trilobular arches.

I thought you had gone
to the countryside.

I passed by the bookstore the other day

and the employee told me you had gone
to the countryside to get some rest.

Yes.

I'm trying to get some rest.

Cut.

LIBRARY OF THE AMERICAS

THE OTHERS

THE OTHERS
a film written

THE OTHERS
directed by

Here's your Ovid.

But you don't have to buy it.

Tournier's translation
is still the best.

- But the other one is more recent.
- And more expensive.

These days people spend
too much on books.

Stick to Tournier!

I... Okay, I'll think about it.
Excuse me, I'll be back.

He won't be coming back.

Mathieu, your father
intends to go bankrupt.

Don't you want a good translation
of Ovid? I'll give you a discount.

Who's gonna help me dress up?

I need a costume for tonight.

Are you allowed to dance with me?

This guy's got her.
Not him, not you.

Which guy?

And then I die.

If we cast shadows, we must
also have a dark side.

Change, madam, from darkness.

Come on, Mathieu.
Darkness is mine.

See you later, then.

Vidal wants to play another game.

I don't agree. He'd lose.

Who knows in a game of chance?

In poker, the cards matter
less than the player.

Less than luck?

No. It's the player that matters.

Whenever you want, I'll show you.

Vidal got himself a partner.

That's two of them wanting to
beat me now.

Allah is great.

- Can you accompany me?
- Sure.

- Are you coming?
- Yes.

What are you doing here, Mr. Spinoza?

- Mathieu hasn't returned.
- Good for him!

It's almost ten o'clock.

You know what? I had a dream
about you tonight.

You were at a costume ball.

You wanted to reach for a big mirror
at the back of the room.

You were in danger.

You had to get through a crowd.

But those people were also
pushing towards the mirror.

You can't tell me I didn't
work tonight.

I managed to lose 2,300 francs playing
poker against an imbecile.

And I held the better cards.

I see. It's a triumph.

I feel the same way.

Let's celebrate.
Drop the money!

To pay for it?

Your jokes seem to be what
everybody else takes seriously.

It's a certain kind of humor.
Come on. Let go.

Furthermore, it's quite an idea to play
poker when you're half a turkey.

I always plucked you.

It's about time for you to get
out of that suit.

I like it. I'm not taking
it off anymore.

That's it, everything's ready.

The actors, the settings...

an excellent crew.

I even selected the extras one by one.

Right now we're finishing the costumes

and the three sets.

My God, it's amazing:

Those guys are from another world.

They don't understand
a word of your script

and yet they give me
everything I ask for.

They spent a lot of money, you know?

- By the way, if you want an advance...
- No, I don't need money.

It's great, your script, Mathieu.

And I'm gonna turn it
into a great movie.

One can't write great things, Durtain.

One can't make great movies either.

You're not the same
person with those rags.

But expect your character to have...

Bye, André.

Mr. Spinoza...

Agnès, did you notice anything
on the past day?

I mean... if there was something
in his voice or his face.

When you came up to talk to me,
you know? Did you notice anything?

I didn't notice anything.

- Mr. Spinoza, you should...
- You know what's wrong with me, Agnès?

It's as if Mathieu had never
been my son.

As if I wasn't really Roger Spinoza.

Last night he must have
come to my house.

- But I didn't see him.
- Then how do you know?

In the morning I found
this piece of paper.

It's his handwriting.

I don't even remember the face I had.

Mathieu had written a script, you know?

And Durtain was about to film it.

I had a role.

The leading role.

None of that matters now.

He didn't always make idle talk.

Let's admit that he left us speechless.

They told me he was kind of weird.

Suicide always turns someone
into his killer.

It's a form of revenge.

I'm Mathieu Spinoza's father.

Follow me, please.

My visit may surprise you,

but since my son died I've been
trying to see his friends.

You know, ma'am, now I think...
they knew him better than I did.

I don't think I have it. Very few
people are looking for it.

If you want I can try
to find it for you.

Don't be like that, Mr. Spinoza.

I'm not well.

I feel like I'm sick.

I don't know how many times we've met.

Not so much on the whole.

He enjoyed being aggressive and
yet we felt he was very close.

He was a friend.

I saw him the day before at the club.

I know.

- There was a costume ball.
- Yes, I know.

We danced. He looked very lively.

- Then we talked about poker.
- Mathieu didn't play very well.

He believed in luck, above all.

To show him he was wrong,
Moreau invited him to play.

It's weird.

Back then none of that mattered.

Lucien Moreau, Mr. Spinoza.

Please, have a seat.

I apologize, I have to go.

Come and sit down, Lucien.

What was that guy doing here?

Come on, Agnès.

Sit down, please.

Come on!

What can I do, Agnès?

I feel worse and worse.

What if I left for a few days?

I could go to the countryside.

Well then, you're the boss now.

Maybe your sister can come help you?

Of course, Mr. Spinoza. You can
leave without worrying.

How are you doing, Mr. Spinoza?

So you know Moreau?

We've been introduced.

He's my producers' lawyer.

A vulture, that guy.

Mr. Spinoza, don't you want us
to go to my house?

It's next door.

We'll be able to talk more quietly.

Do you know what it's about?

No, Mathieu never told me
about the film.

There were things he didn't tell me.

A man dies.

And from that moment on, terrible
things happen to his wife,

to his friends, to all those who
were with him the last few days.

As if death were
a magical force, you know?

As if everyone else was
infected by death.

It's marvelous.

And it seems to be going well?

Yes! They even started paying us.

I had offered Mathieu an advance.

You, Durtain? You offered him money?

When?

On the last day. Why?

No. No reason.

It's all set.

We even bought the negative.

Actually... The only problem left to
solve has to do with Béatrice.

Béatrice Alain.

She was supposed to play a leading role
and now she doesn't want to.

It doesn't go well with her.

I thought you had gone
to the countryside.

I passed by the bookstore the other day

and the employee told me you had gone
to the countryside to get some rest.

Yes.

I'm trying to get some rest.

You know that my pact with you
matters more to me than you do.

And now...

- But what are you're imagining?
- I'm not.

You're seeing each other all the time.

I told you I ran into him by chance.

Valérie, I can't stand
you lying to me.

Excuse me.
I've been wanting to see you.

- What's wrong with you, Valérie?
- Lucien.

Moreau. Do you remember him?

He's angry.

Do you like to ride horses?

I haven't done it in 20 years.

Lucien and I rode horses in
the forest of Vincenne.

Tomorrow I'll have to go alone.

I guess, gentlemen, you're
still at the stage

where presentations are necessary.

I'm the professor Alexis Artaxerxès.

Magician, charlatan, psychic...
As you like.

After I enchanted California,

I'm here to make my debut in the
capital of Julian the Apostate.

And my informants assure me that
the best place for that is

the honorable circle to which
they confer such wide prestige.

Well then.

When do we sign the contract?

Guess, since you're a sorcerer!

I don't guess.

I read the thoughts directly.

Do you read very often?

What am I thinking about then?

A person thinks he's thinking of
one thing and thinks of another.

You're thinking of a dead man.

That's too easy.

You read the papers.

Let's find something more difficult.

For example...

I can guess the cards a player
has in his hands.

We can do the test.

Do you play poker?

One card.

The same.

Three thousand.

Three thousand to see...

With two pairs of aces.

Three sevens.

- High card.
- Without me.

Without me.

It's worth a thousand.

Plus two thousand.

That's it for me.

You'll have to wait until tomorrow.

I owe you 27500 francs.

No.

You owe me exactly 2300.

Except that you don't owe me anything

since these cards are unreal.

My cards are very real.

As real or unreal as
the game we just played.

Tomorrow I'll pay you the 27500 francs.

Tell me where to bring them.

To the Hotel Michelet.

That's where I live.

But maybe it won't be so
easy to find me there.

That's where I live.

But maybe it won't be so
easy to find me there.

To the Hotel Michelet.

That's where I live.

Don't apologize.
You're half drunk.

What a lucky encounter!

I need to talk to you urgently about
something you already know.

Hey! You there...
The man with the ear.

Please don't take advantage.

A shrimp cocktail.

Without vinegar!

Well then...

A glass of red wine.

Would you hand me the salt shaker?

You, that bowl!

Now that flower vase.

And now that lamp, on your left.

Go on! Without fainting.

It's time to go to sleep, pal!

No touching!

You're leaving right now.

They don't even respect
newborns anymore.

You are all witnesses to an assault!

Leave him be, Mr. Boileau!
He's a friend.

- Yeah, he's a good guy.
- Of course he is. - Leave him be.

Then take him away.

Don't worry, I'll take care of him.

And what he broke?

Let's have a drink.

Where does it come from
that we're friends?

You've never even seen me.

What does it matter, if I see you now?

You seem to be in a good mood.

No.

Actually, I'm very sad.

- What do you think you're doing?
- Test material for my film.

I'm making a film.

What exactly are you playing at?

I'm looking for the face I had

before the world was made.

That's what I thought.

I don't care that someone's dead
as long as it's not me.

I want a coffee with cream and
egg breads every morning.

What do I care about a stubborn,
lusty old man?

Lusty!

Because every particular thing
wants to persevere in its being.

Who said that?

That's something.

At least I feel pain.

Alone.

I'm going alone.

I'm very upset.

I still don't have all the money
for that man... Artaxerxès.

Wait until tomorrow, for God's sake!

- Let's try to make a...
- No. I want to pay tonight.

How much do you need?

Leave it. I'll manage.

If I came to see you,

it's because I feel much better.

Things have been cleared up.

I met the person who played
with Mathieu the day before.

I blamed him for a while.

Not anymore.

And you? How are you doing?

At last!

I thought you weren't coming back.

I need to borrow 8000 francs.

You're giving me this because
you can't give me anything else.

It's you, Spinoza.

When you don't come to see us
anymore, we'll miss you.

Let's assume, Béatrice Alain,

that we know each other to exhaustion.

How do you know my name?

I also know you're sad, and
you have reason to be sad.

I know everything.

I know that a movie had to be filmed
and that you were the protagonist.

You were on the screen and
now you want to disappear.

Is Durtain sending you?

No. Mathieu Spinoza, rather.

Béatrice Alain!
Béatrice Alain!

Mathieu still wants you to be
the woman he imagined.

Professor Artaxerxès?

Ah, yes!

He's waiting for you
in the winter garden.

You're looking for Artaxerxès.

You have something to
give him, don't you?

He felt obliged to leave for Villeneuve.

We're supposed to wait for him
at Saint Lazare station.

We're late.

The stupid fat man must
have had enough.

He had to go to the magic circle.

He's not here. Let's go!

Go on!

Wait for me here.
I'll ask if they've seen him.

Now I know where he is.
Come on.

How are you, doctor?

I've been looking for you
for several days.

- We have to meet to...
- I'm sick of your business.

Sorry, but we have to
draw up the contract.

Dr. Moreau is very busy, Durtain.

- Do we know each other?
- Leave us alone. Okay?

- I'm sick of it.
- Come on, Moreau.

Artaxerxès is waiting for us.

I lied to you.

Nobody told me Artaxerxès
was going to be here.

We're almost there.

I'm sure you've understood.

Give me the money.

Don't bother, I'm just passing through.

I wanted to leave you this book.
I didn't know if you already have it.

It's to say goodbye.

I'm going away for a few days.

See? I was leaving you a little message.

To say goodbye.

You probably think I shouldn't
come visit you.

And you're right.

Why should I think that?

The last time I was here...

When did you come here?

No, I didn't go inside...

I saw Mr. Moreau leave, and
I understood that you...

First I assumed that...

Anyway, I just came by today
to bring you this book.

And to say goodbye.

Come in, Mr. Spinoza.
Sit down.

I'd like to go to Saint-Julien
for a few days.

Do you know Saint-Julien?

It's an isolated little village.

Some houses.

On the Atlantic coast, in Landes.

There's the sea,

the pines and the sand...

And the wind that blows the sand,

and it's like nothing had an end.

When I was a child

I once went to Saint-Julien.

I was walking alone in the dunes,
trying to get lost.

I thought I was born in the sand
and was going to die there.

I was feeling good.

I thought living was like that
back then. And that it was easy.

Now I have to go back.

Do you recognize that
music, Mr. Spinoza?

Of course, it's a tango.

You know, Valérie...

at my age...

we learned to believe that we
don't feel like saying

what we feel like saying.

And we also think it's great.

The translucent hands of the Jew

grind the lenses in the twilight.

And the dying afternoon
is fear and cold,

and all afternoons are the same.

The hands and the hyacinth-blue air
that whitens at the Ghetto edges

do not quite exist for
this silent man

who conjures up a clear labyrinth,

undisturbed by fame,

that reflection of dreams in
the dream of another mirror,

nor by maidens' timid love.

Free of metaphor and myth,

he grinds a stubborn crystal lens:

the infinite map of the One

who is all His stars.

Yes.

The One who is all His stars.

Do you know that poem, Mr. Spinoza?

Yes, of course.

It's from a fellow librarian.

Do you know Spinoza, Valérie?

Yes, of course.

Baruch de Spinoza
was a small Jew

grinding lenses in a
suburb of The Hague.

Hello.

Valérie, I'm leaving.

I have to go, Valérie.

I have to be alone for a few days.

I have to try to understand what's
wrong with me.

Don't ask me anything, please.

Maybe you'll feel like waiting for me.

Leave it, Luciana! Go away!

Antonio!

Here it is, Valeria. I finally
found it. For you.

It can't be.

One moment, Antonio!
Where are you going?

Tell me what I owe you!

- Nothing, Valeria. It's for you.
- Please, Antonio!

Excuse me, ma'am,
can you help me?

There's an injured woman in the woods.

Come, please.

Let's go. Come on.

There's no one here.

I'm leaving.

Are you in a hurry?

Don't ever lay a hand on me again.

Didn't I tell you there was an
injured woman in the woods?

Monday we were supposed to
start filming, you understand?

Seven days from now!

And today these guys come and
tell me like it's nothing:

"Listen Durtain, you have to
add two characters,

delete the planetarium sequence
and change the ending."

I couldn't believe it!

I talked to them all morning,
but there's no point.

They have nothing to say but
that the money is theirs.

Mathieu was right, you can't
make movies with such idiots.

Now they can take their
sets and costumes

and put them where the
sun doesn't shine.

I'm quitting everything.

I get the script back and
I take it with me.

They won't see me again.

Yes. His name's in the book.

But I've never seen him.

You can't not have seen him.

An illusionist. A magician.

But yes, Artaxerxès.

That's the one who shares
Mr. Spinoza's room.

- Spinoza?
- Yes, Spinoza.

A 50-year-old man, gray hair.

He looks kind of sad.

He left the hotel this morning.
I think he was going on a trip.

I can't find the key.

Artaxerxès must be upstairs.

He must have left.

There he is.

That's Artaxerxès.

No way.

That picture was always there.

I came to Touraine,

almost every year,

to stay in my grandfather's village.

He had arrived in Buenos Aires in 1896.

My father was born there.

Me too.

After the accident...

I was left alone.

I was nine years old.

They put me on an airplane.

In Paris an old lady was waiting for me.

My grandfather's sister.

I like the house.

She wanted me to keep it.

I was going to tell you.

A man I've never seen before
stopped me near the observatory.

He asked me to help someone
injured in the woods.

I followed him

and all of a sudden he started
hitting me with a branch.

It's unbelievable, but
that's what happened.

I didn't tell anyone.

I want to forget it.

I want to tell you something
and I don't dare.

Monday I have to be
at the observatory.

Can't you stay one more day?

It's not so serious, Valérie.

I don't feel like going back.

I'm coming with you.

- Listen to me...
- Stop babbling.

Say what you want to tell me at once.

Lucien, Valérie went to
Landes with Spinoza.

She told me so herself.

I don't understand anymore.

That boy kills himself,

a charlatan beats me at poker,

a madman steals a lot of money from me
and burns it in front of me,

and now I find out it was
all the bookseller's setup.

And Valérie,

the only one that matters to me,
is going with him.

Not so long ago

things were always happening
in a way that I could foresee.

Now I'm starting to think I never
understood anything.

But it can't be. It can't be!

I need to talk to Valérie.

- Are you staying here tonight?
- Yes, sir.

A journalist will be coming,
to write an article.

I told him he wasn't going to see
anything extraordinary, but he insisted.

Take it.

Look at the pictures.

Thank you. You can go, Jacques.

See you tomorrow, Valérie.

Does it interest you?

Have you seen a man?

Short.

- A bit...
- Yeah, I ran into him.

Everything should be like that.

Everything should be like a gift.

Suddenly we have to offer
ourselves to someone.

And then everything
that happens is a gift.

Yes, it's true.

Everything should be like that.

From now on we'll only have gifts.

We're gonna take out that crazy museum
where you're wasting your life,

that senile bookseller,

that sinister guy who
hit you in the woods.

and that fat idiot Artaxerxès you
don't know and who ignores you.

How do you know all that?

Don't worry about it anymore.

Never again.

I'll pick you up at noon!

I'm staying here.

Mr. Moreau!

Mr. Moreau, Miss Valérie isn't here.

What time did she leave?

She didn't leave.

The thing is, she didn't
come back, Mr. Moreau.

She called in the evening.

Whatever you tell me will
remain between us.

Durtain has been missing
since yesterday at noon,

and the police wants to
interrogate Spinoza.

He's a friend and I want to help him.

Can you tell me where he was last night?

With me.

I don't understand what
happened tonight.

I'd rather we didn't see
each other anymore.

I must seem a little strange to you,

but I love a man.

Spinoza's not here, is he?

The old man is never here!

He should stay home and drink his tea.

He could be dead by now,
the old fool.

Sir, please!

Come to the observatory.

Come right away.

The Meudon Observatory.

Yes, I'll wait.

Spinoza.
Roger Spinoza.

Why are they taking you away?

I told them it wasn't you

because you had spent the night with me.

They know it's not true.

They know that all night
Valérie was with a man.

They know I killed her this morning.

I don't care what happens now.

You shouldn't be surprised
to see me here.

I know you didn't kill Valérie.

How do you know?

Because I'm the one who killed her.

And having killed her, it's
too unbearable for me

to bear with another man
accusing himself of her death.

I was expecting you, Moreau.

Here I am.

Now you're free.

But what actually happened?

Tell me.

I looked for you and you
were nowhere to be found.

Men appeared who
no one had ever seen

and then disappeared.

I've been all those men.

I was the one who discovered
himself in the mirrors.

I've been the magician Artaxerxès.

I was the madman who killed Valérie.

I've been Valérie's other lover

and the deceived lover was also me.

After my son's death

I went from being one man
to becoming another

and then another.

It wasn't my choice:

all that was happening to me
and I was being dragged along.

Suddenly I was someone else.

And you should know all that.
You were a witness.

I don't know what those
who I have been wanted.

I don't know if other men
are waiting for me.

I don't know if I myself, here,

Spinoza,

am one of the others.

Now Valérie is dead.

Here or there...

I don't care where I'll be
to remember her.

No.

Now you have to go.

I know that everything you've
told me is true.

It's strange.

Valérie's death, and you,

those are the only real things
that have happened to me.