Ten Little Indians 1989 subtitles – 100+ languages (SRT)

All language subtitles for Ten.Little.Indians.1989

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Original subtitles

You

Victoria Point coming up this.

Thank you, Jordan.

You

James Wampard.

Anyone here for their own party?

Mrs. Fari.

Done.

I'm Bloor. How do you do?

Mr. Justice Wargre. Please delete you.

I'm going to go to the

city.

Sasha, quickly.

This way.

Hey, uh, you know this horn?

I mean, do I know him personally?

I'm a doctor.

What?

I'll take a look when we get to some place

more reasonable.

I hope.

I haven't been eaten alive by then.

What are these things? They're horrible.

I'm

little

Don't you remember? Vira Claythorn.

That's it, my daughter, all right?

Yeah.

Yes. Yes, it is the heat I must keep out of the heat.

It's the heat.

And the memories. They can be terrible.

In the end, I suppose.

It does not matter what you did to people.

It matters who you held here.

This I know.

And I will wait for her.

Look, I don't know too much about these things.

But as you say, why don't you stay out of the heat?

Yes. As I must stay out of the heat, that is important.

Doctor! Doctor!

Come quickly! My wife!

Quickly!

I can't believe what to say.

What? What?

It's Mrs. Rogers.

I'm afraid she died in her sleep.

No. That's impossible.

Yes, it is.

In Serbia, we have an old saying.

More than only once.

And... and...

And keep out of the heat, of course, that's important.

Give us a...

Learn in Hades' this Mr. Rogers.

I don't know.

But who touched that?

Nine little Indians set up very late.

One over slept, and then there were eight.

Couldn't be.

Well, how many are there of us?

That's right. Eight.

She has a point.

I'm afraid she's not.

She has a point.

I do not like this.

Doctor told his priest, Doctor Kinkar.

How did she die?

I don't know.

We'd have to have an autopsy.

If I'm remembering right,

weren't you the one who gave her the sedative?

No.

I didn't. I gave it to Aspen.

You bastard!

She was my wife.

Who's next? We're being picked off like flies.

I think we should leave right now.

We're in the middle of Africa. There's nothing out there for miles.

Anyway, there's no way back over the ravine.

Oh, my God.

What's that way?

Wild, hungry, vicious animals.

Why don't you just trust in the good Lord, Miss Marlover?

What do you provide?

Mr. Lombard, thank God.

We've got to get out of here. Radio for a plane.

What is it?

Radio's down. Someone smashed the back.

Oh!

Well, I don't know about all of you, but I'm not going to set you.

What do you propose?

Look,

all those deaths are natural.

All right, but if they're not,

it looks like it must be the work of our infamous, Mr. Hone.

He's around here someplace.

I'll trick him.

Your Honor,

it's a millionaire's idea of a joke.

Look, we'll get to the bottom of it.

Are you ready?

Mr. Blaw, you stick with me.

If it's Owen and he's out there,

you won't be out there long.

Let's go.

Okay, Doc, let's go.

Thank you, General.

She will be here soon.

Are you all right, General?

Yes.

She will come.

I was too old for her, you know,

but we were happy together for a time.

You mean your wife?

Yes.

The Moratsky was more her age.

I was too old for her, you know.

But, uh, we were happy together for a time.

The Moratsky was more her age.

It was my second lieutenant.

And do you know how I, uh, how I found out?

We were at the front.

She wrote to both of us.

And she put the letters in the wrong envelopes.

So, I sent him to Belgrade.

I picked him. I picked him to die.

I knew he would die. It is what I wanted.

This Mr. Owen is right.

It was murder, in a way.

His murder.

And, uh, Katana, she lived on for a few years.

I never told her.

Then she died.

As we are going to die.

I am waiting.

Here is as good a place as any.

What do you mean, General?

None of us are going to leave.

That is the plan. You know it, of course.

You will be glad, too, when the end comes.

You must keep out of the heat, General.

Yes, that is.

Oh, let me.

It is all right, General. I will get it. Stay there.

Journalists have Cellcontrol.

Help!

Ah!

I'll you have to.

Well, let's do everything.

Ah!

Ugh!

The

main

Shit!

Damn!

Son of a bitch!

Shit!

Wechtitz!

No better than blanks.

Alright, somebody switched on and I'd like to know who.

What do you mean who?

You know perfectly well who?

Owen!

To be determined.

What are we going to do without weapons?

Come on, Judge.

You know a gun is not the only way to kill.

You know, Judge?

That guy's nuts.

Where the hell is that way out?

This case on the slide.

Eight little Indians.

Travelling in Devon.

One said it stayed there.

Oh, son.

Well, shall we begin?

Now we know.

Know what?

Oh, Mr. Owen is...

Who?

One of us.

Come on for crying out loud.

Yeah, it wasn't Mr. Rogers, you know, of these.

He just mysteriously disappeared.

Then reappear, suddenly.

He was the only one unaccounted for when the general died.

Perhaps he should confront him.

That's a good idea.

Come on.

I'm sorry.

Don't say anything.

I'm sorry.

Don't say anything.

Tell me.

What are you thinking?

I don't know.

Stupid it all is.

You see, I've been a governess for the past five years.

And suddenly this opportunity came along,

and I thought how lucky I was to have the chance

to get out and see the world at last.

Now look, ironic.

Now here you are, and here I am, and everyone's suspicious.

Not everyone.

I don't think it's you.

You don't?

No, I don't.

Are you sure?

Yeah, I'm sure.

But, uh, what about me?

Oh.

I think it's the doctor.

What?

And, uh, shall we begin?

Just a minute.

What is it, Ms. Marshall?

I don't understand this.

Why do we have to vote?

What difference does it make who we think Mr. Owen is?

I don't understand this.

Why do we have to vote?

What difference does it make who we think Mr. Owen is?

I think it's a good idea.

Could say some light.

I don't approve.

It's speculation.

We need proof.

It's ridiculous.

Look, Ms. Marshall,

maybe that's the way they do things in Hollywood,

but we're nowhere near there.

Come on, Judge.

Move it.

One vote for the good doctor.

And one for Mr. Bloor.

Mr. Lombard.

You haven't been excluded?

Let me see there.

Um, neither has Ms. Marshall.

Oh.

Somebody voted for me here.

Two votes left.

They both honor Mr. Rogers.

Get off my back, all of you.

I'm not going through this again.

You only have to go through it once.

Oh, by the way, who is this, uh, Miss Brady?

Who is she, yeah?

Who is Miss Brady?

The woman though, in a Houston of murder.

She's an old lady at Mrs. Rogers and I spent years and years looking after.

She was very, very sick.

We were with her when she died.

She left all her money to us.

There were no relatives.

Just a moment, Mr. Rogers.

What did your wife mean when she said that soon or later,

somebody would find out?

I have no idea what she was talking about,

except the possibility that there was some conversation at the time.

But the doctor certified that she died of a massive stroke.

And if you don't believe it, you can check the dissertive, you know.

I've had enough. I believe me.

Why are you going?

I'm going out on top of that hill.

I'm going to sit at the top and watch so that none of you can sneak up behind.

Hold on.

Hold on, Mr. Rogers.

No one is pointing a finger.

Really?

We are all desperate and we are trying to understand.

Now, it seems to me, whenever someone dies,

we seem to lose a little Indian.

If you are going to sit on top of the hill, Mr. Rogers,

I'm sure you wouldn't mind taking the key with you.

We'd all sleep better that way.

My pleasure.

I won't be sleeping.

Bring it.

One last suggestion.

That we all keep our tents closed during the night and open them to no one.

No one?

There is on the top of the hill.

You should be safe, then.

I hope so.

I do hope so.

Good night, doctor.

Good night.

MUSIC

Oh.

Marion!

It's Marion. She's not in her tent.

Okay, don't worry. We'll find her.

Alright, everybody, let's spread out.

Damn you, Owen!

I'm going to get you.

There you are.

Are you riding me?

Did I?

Yes.

We were worried about you.

Hey!

Yes, she is!

Everybody, Miss Marshall is here!

You shouldn't be out alone, you know.

Thank you, darling.

I'm not alone.

The Lord is with me.

I'm going to get that.

I'm really good at that.

Where's she going?

What's going on?

Good heavens.

Seven little Indians chopping up sticks.

One chopped himself in hell.

And then there were six.

So where's Mr. Rogers?

I'm going up.

I'm going to get you.

Hey, alright.

The devil is amongst us.

You okay?

Did you have a hair of a bee sting being fatal?

No.

Six little Indians playing with a hive, a bumble bee stung one.

Only makes it worse.

We must get out of here.

We must take a shot, Doctor.

I'm going calm.

Your hand is trembling.

Is it nerves?

Or alcohol?

This, er, er,

this, er, er,

a margared policeman, was it?

Do you remember?

The voice on the gravophone.

Did you operate?

Perhaps you were drunk.

This is Lander.

Oh, yes.

What does it matter?

We are all under sentence of death.

For that,

the idea of who it can be.

Oh, I wouldn't quite say that.

Do you know something?

As a matter of practical evidence, I have none.

But it seems to me that one particular person is sufficiently indicated.

Opportunity and means.

Surgical skills, access to dangerous drugs and implements.

You have your own way of killing, Judge.

Sentence of death.

Yes. You would know about it.

You cooked, it was Sittin's goose.

An innocent man.

The hanging charge.

Yes.

I have been called that.

Is Marshall?

Oh, come in.

Yes, please.

I wish I was in so frightened.

Don't worry, it'll pass.

We'll be out of here soon.

I hope.

Yes.

Whoever is out there killing us one by one is laughing.

And we're still here stranded and helpless.

That's why we have to stick together.

It's the only thing left to reassure us.

Playing down the burden of guilt is the only thing that's going to reassure me.

It wasn't true, you know what they said in all the papers.

What wasn't?

About Beatrice Taylor.

She wasn't charming, she wasn't fun, she wasn't a saint.

She was vulgar and ruthless.

I thought she was supposed to be great friends.

We were lovers.

And when I tried to break away, she threatened me.

She said she'd go to the studio and tell them about us and ruin my career forever.

Her resolve, her mind was just beginning.

She was found floating in her pool.

Yes.

What else was that to do?

She was drunk, we had a terrible fight.

She fell.

I left her there.

Quietly.

No one ever knew.

I pray to God every day that he will forgive me and delete us.

I know I won't forget.

I need to sleep for a while now.

It was Miss Marshall, alright?

Yes?

She shouldn't be alone.

No one should be alone.

Well, that's what I've just told her.

Well, maybe we should go to her.

No.

Well, she's sleeping.

She's better off with the rest.

What you think this place was, uh, awfully nervous?

Yes.

Any luck?

No.

RXQ, RXQ, can you read me?

RXQ, RXQ, come in.

Can you read me?

This is RXQ, this is RXQ, I can read you.

Come on.

As he's received, sending a spotter plane in the morning.

Over now.

I'm going to go to the bathroom.

reminding you about what happened to your Locked

Don't forget,

Who does it look like?

He's trying to light the fire.

He's facing his time.

It's cold.

Perhaps we should all go into the tent.

All right, I love her this crap.

All right, Doctor.

Who else here has a hypodermic needle?

Detective Bloor.

Anybody could have stolen it for my bag.

Anybody, including you,

it is not too hard to be a thief.

What did you say?

Please.

Miss Claython, would you ask me to decant her?

Perhaps Mr. Bloor and the Doctor and yourself.

Will you join me in the drink?

Oh, by the way.

Weren't you the last person to see Miss Marshall alive?

That is right.

Feasts so you're coming out of her tent.

Well, you did see me coming out of her tent.

But then I left and you two stayed.

Just a few feet from her doorway, in fact.

Yes, I remember.

But I left immediately to relieve myself.

And I...

Feasts has gone far enough.

I don't know.

But it's cold.

I'm going to go put something warmer.

Perhaps.

I should go with you.

It's all right, Mr. Lombard's out there.

I'll only be a minute.

Go for it.

What am I?

I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.

Come on, there's something we'll show you.

Come.

Can I trust you to keep a secret?

Mm-hmm.

When Marston arrived, I remember him saying they brought his own bullets.

You mean you're the only one with a loaded gun?

That's right. I don't want you to tell anyone.

We have a better chance of making it through the night.

And if we do make it through the night...

Do you think it would have made any difference if Mr. Marston Hat had a gun?

Or Marion or the General or Rogers?

Even if they had had a gun that all still be dead.

Wait, where are you going?

I'm sorry.

I just don't trust anybody anymore.

I'm all right now.

Good night.

If you were a betting man,

would you bet someone else would die tonight?

I never bet.

I've all...

Well, that's all he fair.

I want to tell you about me.

Landor.

You're familiar with the name?

He was a bank robber and I was a cop.

I was a bank robber.

He was a bank robber and I was a cop.

Many years before that, we grew up together on the same block.

My testimony.

Send him up the river.

Mr. Owen accused you of murder.

Did Mr. Landor die?

In prison a year later.

Called on the feds.

He was about to make a confession about something.

And you were about to be implicated?

You're right.

That's why I'm here.

And he's dead.

The fact is, I lost my license offer.

He was guilty.

And I was doing mine, Tony.

That's all that any others can hope to do.

Howl, duty?

Ooh.

Gold card. What's happening?

The judges disappeared.

Oh no.

Look, the shot keeper over there. Let's go. Come on.

No!

Don't bury him now. Not until it clears.

You take care of him.

We'll put him in the store tent.

Five little Indians going in for law.

One got into chancellery, and then they were for...

What's so funny, Doc?

Oh.

Laura, you're here?

She's feeling much better.

I brought her in half because I didn't want her to be alone.

I want to go get the Doc.

Don't.

What's wrong with you, too?

It's not what you think.

You were the only one who had any bullets. Of course it's you.

Look.

Feel it. Smell it.

Go ahead.

Now, if I were to shot him, that gun would be hot,

and you'd smell the gunpowder.

Well, do you?

Do you?

No.

Vera, I have a hunch. It's a doctor.

Couldn't be Bloor. Bloor used to be a cop.

Look, I don't know what all of this is about for you, but I know what it's about for me.

There was a little boy. I was his governess. He was forbidden to swim out too far.

It won't help.

I'm guilty.

Well, damn it, I'm not.

We were on the beach one day, and he just started off.

Somebody said something, and I just turned away just for a second.

When I look back, it was just gone.

I tried to swim out after him. It was too late.

I've never been able to forgive myself.

But it was an accident.

Why do you keep doing this to yourself?

Why, you so nice.

Who's Jack Hutchinson?

Why?

There was a letter I saw it. It was addressed to Jack Hutchinson.

You wouldn't believe me if I told you.

Maybe I would. Try me.

Okay. I'm Jack Hutchinson.

Where's Lombard?

Lombard's dead.

There's a real good friend of mine, Lombard.

He knew this country like I know this country.

You know, there's not too many of us left.

I wrote you a call, a dang breed.

But anyway, this guy Owen already paid his way out.

I came instead.

Why did you wait so long before you told?

It's a difference. It wouldn't change anything.

How do you know? Maybe it would. Maybe it would have saved somebody.

Where are you going, dear?

I'm going to find the doctor in blue.

I'm going to tell them what you just told me.

Give me a call.

Vera!

Listen to me. You're wrong.

Mr. Bloor.

Oh, but Christ's sake.

I think I know who Mr. Owen is. In fact, I'm sure a bit.

Here, wait a minute.

He's got real bullets.

Wait a minute.

Where's it done?

I can't believe it.

Look. We have to stick together. He's right.

He's right.

No, thank you.

Wait.

Where's the sputter plane you promised?

Well, did you lie about that toe?

If you want to kill me, go on.

Go on!

I read Harry.

The sputter one.

And then they were...

Three.

Oh my God.

Ahhhh!

Vera!

What happened?

He's in the tent.

What happened?

He's in the tent.

Very neat.

Really?

Read little Indians off to the zoo.

Bear hugged one, and then they were too.

Nice drive, Vera.

But I'm not by.

Arms up.

I was right.

It was you.

Come on.

Don't move.

I'm warning you.

Mary and Marta suspected you and the judge.

Trying to get me on your side.

Let's keep the bullets a secret you've said.

It's sordid.

And what's worse is, just for a time there in the beginning,

I thought that you...

It turns my stomach.

Let go!

Good morning, Miss Claython.

You.

I'm so glad that you were the last one to survive.

You must forgive my appearance.

My judicial ropes for my very last sentencing of death.

Oh, that...

The blood...

Tomato sauce.

A bit left over from my little charade with the doctor.

We rigged up my supposed death so that I could get a little bit of a shot.

I'm sorry, but I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

A bit left over from birth, but my supposed death so that I could be free

to spy on the rest of you.

Potter, doctor.

He swallowed my red herring beautifully one little Indian left

all alone.

She.

Went.

And.

Dang.

And then, you know, we're none.

Oh, come on.

Come on.

Come with me.

Slip this over your head.

Come on.

Mount the scaffold, and Berlin.

Come back.

You must be insane.

Do it.

Or I shall kill you now.

Is the spotter plane?

Oh, yes.

Yes.

That's good.

Why good?

They'll arrest you.

No.

I shall be dead.

Now pay attention.

When I pull on this rope, he will hang.

This wine contains hemlock.

They tell me that if I drain the glass,

it will be no more than three minutes until death.

You see, a short while ago,

a doctor gave me only a little time to live.

But I've been able to reflect

and to plan the safari.

My own private, big game art.

And you shall be the last to die.

Very good try.

My dear Ms. Kayser.

I wonder how long you can hold on.

I always wanted to see her hanging.

Please, don't leave me here.

Save your breath.

Listen.

For some time now, I have noticed a change in myself.

After 25 years on the bench, I decided to act instead of the judge.

I wanted to commit a murder.

I wanted to be a judge.

I wanted to commit a murder.

Kill on a huge escape.

I chose my victims carefully.

Well, didn't I?

My ten little Indians who had escaped the hangman.

Save the hangman.

Eeeease!

I'm beginning to feel dizzy.

Good-bye.

My dear Ms. Kayser.

All ten little Indians.

Oh, good.

Vera!

Well, we get out of here.

I'm going to teach you how to shoot straight.

In tropical climates at a certain time of day,

when all the citizens retire to take their clothes off and to smile,

it's one of those rules, the greatest fools obey.

Because the sun is far too sultry and one must avoid its ultraviolet rays.

The natives grieve when the white men leave their huts,

because they're obviously definitely nuts.

Mad dogs and Englishmen go wild in the mid-day sun.

The Japanese don't care to. The Chinese wouldn't dare to.

Hindus and Argentine sleep firmly from 12 to 1,

but Englishmen deterstors, yes, sir.

In the Philippines, they had lovely screens to protect you from the glare.

In the melee states, the rats like plates which the producers won't wear,

a 12 noon, a native spoon, and no further work is done,

but now dogs and Englishmen go wild in the mid-day sun.

It's such a surprise for the Eastern eyes to see,

that though the English are a feat, they're quite impervious to heat.

When the white man rides every native hides in glee,

because the simple creatures hope he will impale his solar topy on the twee.

It seems to shame when the English claim the earth,

that they give rise to such hilarity and mirth.

Mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the mid-day sun.

The toughest Burmese bandit can never understand it.

In Rangoon, the heat of noon is just what the native shunned.

They put the scotch awry down and lie down.

In a jungle town where the sun beats down to the range of man and beast,

the English garb of the English sard merely gets a bit more creased.

In Bangkok, at 12 o'clock they foam at the mouth and run,

but now dogs and Englishmen go out in the mid-day sun.

Mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the mid-day sun.

The smallest melee rabbit deplores its foolish habit.

In Hong Kong, this trica gong and fire of an unday gun,

to repremange each inmate who's in late.

In the mangrove swamps by the python rumps, there is peace from 12 to 2.

Even caribou's lie around and snooze, there's nothing else to do.

In Bengal, to move at all, it's seldom it ever done.

But now dogs and Englishmen go out in the mid-day, out in the mid-day, out in the mid-day, out in the mid-day, out in the mid-day sun.

MUSIC