Original subtitles

Thank you, Grosvenor.

Thank you, sir.

-It's a cold night tonight, Grosvenor. -Oh, yes, sir.

God! It's on nights like this, I wish Lady Agatha were here still.

-I miss her so much, Grosvenor. -Yes, sir. We all miss her, sir.

Yes, yes. I suppose we do.

She had such a fabulous body, sir.

Yes, she was a lovely woman.

Yes, sir. She was a real dish.

Yes, and such a kind creature.

Not a trace of guile or malice ever crossed her pretty face.

Yes. And in the evenings,

sometimes when she used to wear that black transparent...

Yes, you may go now.

Very good, sir. Thank you, sir. Good night, sir.

-Oh, uh, sir? -Yes, Grosvenor?

Would you be requiring the naughty books tonight, sir?

No. No, thank you.

Very well, sir. Thank you, sir.

Good night, sir.

-Uh, excuse me, sir? -Yes, Grosvenor?

Uh, if you won't be requiring the naughty books tonight, sir, may I?

Yes. Oh, yes, yes, of course, Grosvenor.

Oh, thank you very much indeed, sir. Good night again, sir.

Oh, my God!

Leave me alone. Leave me alone!

Please, leave me alone! Stop tormenting me!

I'm awfully sorry to get you up at this time of night,

but I'm afraid I'm lost.

That's all right. Come in.

Thank you very much. Um...

Do you mind if I bring in the rest of the expedition?

No, no, no, please do.

Ah, well, actually, some of them aren't awfully decent.

What do you mean?

Well, you see, their tribal outfit is pretty basic

and if there are any ladies in the house, it might be...

No, no, no, there are... There are no ladies in the house.

Good.

I've asked them to wipe their feet.

My name is Merson, by the way. Captain Merson.

-This is awfully good of you. -Not at all.

What's your expedition looking for?

We're looking to see if there is a channel, a river passage,

linking the Ganges with the Brahmaputra River through Bhutan.

But this is Maidenhead.

Yes, I know. It's only our first day.

You see, we were supposed to change at Woking,

and the damn, stupid ticket collector put us on the Swindon platform.

There, of course, we all piled out over the bridge

and caught the next train back. Well...

Take them into the library, there's a fire.

Thank you very much.

-Grosvenor? -What is it, sir? Crumpet?

No, it's not, Grosvenor.

Could you bring some towels and hot drinks to the library, please?

And, uh, the robe, sir?

No, Grosvenor. Just the towels and the drinks.

Very well, sir.

Come on, come on.

We only left Paddington at 4:30 and I've already lost three men.

Well, please, sit down.

Thank you.

Yes, they went on to Bristol.

Trouble is, you see, they're head-hunters. That's what really worries me.

Ahh!

Ahh!

What's the matter with him?

Ah. Yes, um... I'm not quite sure, actually.

You see, they do tend rather to go into these fertility, ahem, dances,

some of which, to the Western eye, are a little frank.

But they are a very frank tribe actually.

What is he doing now?

Oh, yes, I think this is the one about the three ladies and the gentleman.

Disgusting! You see, where they come from in the Naga Hills,

which is in northwestern Burma, is practically inaccessible. And therefore...

Where did you say?

I said, where they come from is practically inaccessible...

Where did you say they came from?

-Northwestern Burma. -The Naga Hills?

Did you say the Naga Hills?

Yes, about 400 miles from Mandalay, going north.

Yes, I know.

-Do you know them? -Yes.

Captain Merson, I think these men have come here tonight for a purpose.

No, no, no. It's just that that stupid man at Paddington was so...

They've come here to help me.

-To help you? How? -Yes.

Captain Merson...

I want to tell you a story, Captain Merson.

It is a story of fear, tragedy and terror.

It is the story of a curse,

a curse that is upon this house.

I was born in Cheltenham in 1881,

where my parents lived a comfortable but austere existence

in which they had little time for me.

They exerted an iron discipline upon their children.

They had my sister imprisoned for putting too much butter on a scone.

And my younger brother, David, was killed for walking on the flowerbeds.

I hardly dared to think what they would have done to me

if they ever discovered I had a sweetheart, Agatha, who lived next door.

But this passion, like all my passions, had to remain a dark and guilty secret.

I dared tell no one, not even Agatha herself.

The only person I could talk to, outside this drab and suffocating world,

was my Uncle Jack.

Uncle Jack was my childhood hero.

He was so strong and brave.

Ever since I'd been able to understand about hernias,

I'd envied the carefree way he'd lift up bits of fallen masonry.

If some section of his house looked like falling down,

Uncle Jack would run like the wind

without a truss or surgical appliance of any kind.

Oh.

He was also totally unconcerned about contagious diseases.

Tetanus, beriberi, yellow jack,

yaws, typhus, pyorrhoea, dinge and black lung

were all old friends of Uncle Jack.

The monthly visits to his strange, old house

were the only breath of life in the sterile world my parents inhabited.

Mark me, sir. Back at six o'clock on the dot.

You know what will happen if you fail.

-Yes, sir. -Very good.

Uncle Jack!

-Uncle Jack! -Hello, Kev!

How are you, boy?

What are those, Uncle Jack?

Oh, they're buboes, lad. A touch of bubonic plague I picked up at the weekend.

Gosh, weren't you scared?

Oh, a bit of bubonic plague? I should say not.

So long as you got a rabid dog to let the poison out.

Want to see the rats?

-Rather. -Come on, then.

Hey, you see that?

-Spots on the tongue? -Yeah.

Yellow jaundice, first symptoms.

Oh, terrific, Uncle Jack.

-And that? That's mange. -Wow!

Sometimes I'd stay till the evening

and Uncle Jack would sit me in front of a roaring fire

and tell me stories of his travels around the world,

of the women and the diseases that he'd had,

how he'd given mouth-to-mouth resuscitation

to cholera victims in Valparaiso,

how he'd gone to Kazakhstan to catch a rare kind of plague,

and how when he lived in London, he'd contracted pellagra, lockjaw and scurvy

as a protest against the postal charges.

But the years passed.

I was sent away to school and saw less and less of Uncle Jack.

Until one day I heard he'd suddenly been taken ill.

It was the first summer of the Boer War and it was his birthday.

I'd bought him a brand-new bedpan and I couldn't wait to see him.

-What's the matter, Grosvenor? -Oh, Mr Kevin, sir.

He keeps asking for you, sir.

Happy birthday, Uncle Jack.

Are you all right?

I'm not long for this world, nephew.

Is it the bubonic plague, Uncle Jack?

Oh! No, no, that's nothing.

It's just an itch.

No, this is something far worse.

It's my birthday.

Yes, I know. I brought you a present.

The day I've dreaded for years.

It's not my time yet, boy.

Go over to the dressing table.

Open the second drawer.

Now, put your hand in.

-Now, what can you feel? -Sort of furry thing.

No, not the rats, no. Feel again, feel again.

-A wooden box. -That's it.

Now, don't open it whatever you do. Bring it over to me here, quickly!

Stand well back, nephew.

On no account must you touch the thing that's in this box.

-Do you understand? -Yes.

-Do you promise? -Yes, Uncle Jack, of course.

What is it, Uncle Jack?

It is...

the claw!

-Looks pretty ordinary to me. -No, don't touch!

There's nothing ordinary about this claw.

When I was given this, I was in Burma.

I was a young, fit man.

I only had malaria.

We were cut off by the monsoons in a hill village

and what with the heat and the damp,

the malaria turned to gangrene

and I was about to bite my leg off and spit it out.

Oh, God! I wish now that I had.

When into my hut crawled a tribesman,

wearing only the head dress and decorated briefs of the holy ones.

He thrust this into my hand.

Gosh, like a fool, I took it from him.

-Well, why not? You didn't die. -Because there is a curse upon it!

This is the claw of the Burmese vulture,

sacred to the men of the Naga Hills,

and from which they draw their amazing sexual powers.

-Uncle Jack. -Oh, it's true, lad.

I haven't tried it myself but my manservant, Grosvenor, has.

-Is that why he's always... -When the missionaries arrived in Burma,

they destroyed every holy vulture.

This claw is all that remains.

The owner must return it to the holy men before his 60th birthday...

or death and misfortune will fall on all who touch it.

And I'm 60 today, boy.

I'll take it back, Uncle.

Burma is 10,000 miles away, Kev.

I've got a new bicycle.

Don't touch!

Please, Uncle. Let me try and take it back.

It wouldn't be easy. The claw is cunning.

Its power is strong.

Give it to me, Uncle.

All right, lad. But keep it tight shut.

Never hold the claw itself, whatever you do.

I'll save you, Uncle. Don't worry.

Uh, Kev?

If I'm still alive when you get back, I'll show you my cyst.

Gosh! Thanks, Uncle Jack.

The only problem now was my parents.

What are you making, Mother?

Something that will cover the entire human body, dear.

Father?

Yes, my boy?

Where's Burma?

It's in the Midlands, my boy, in Warwickshire.

Burma?

Birmingham.

No, Burma.

There's no such place as Burma, my boy.

It's a country with mountains and jungles...

Your father has spoken, dear.

Oh!

What you doing, Mother?

The needle went straight into my finger.

Oh dear, I've never done that before. How careless!

The sooner the entire human body is clothed, the better.

Yes, dear. Oh!

I think I shall detail that very incident in our next newsletter.

Then those who scoff and belittle our ideas will smirk on the other side of their cheeks.

Good Lord!

What, dear?

There's a typhoon warning in the newspaper.

In the Maidenhead Advertiser? Are you quite sure, dear?

It's in very large type on the sports page.

Probably a misprint, dear.

Hmm, the work of evil men.

Isn't it near India, Father?

-What? -Burma?

-Who on earth told you that? -I saw it in an atlas.

You are not to look at the atlas, my boy.

It is an evil book.

-No, it's not. It's very useful, it's... -It is filled with lewd and lascivious ladies

who know no better than to disport themselves for the carnal delight...

That's not the atlas, dear.

Hmm.

Why are you so interested in Burma, Kevin?

I have to go there, Mother, as soon as possible.

-Of course you can't go to Burma, dear. -I could join the navy.

I will not have you debase yourself amongst those perverts.

I could go as an apprentice cook or...

You'll stay here, my boy, where we love you.

Father, you don't understand.

That's it, I have spoken.

Look.

Put that away at once!

I have to return this to the tribesmen of the Naga Hills.

Put away that object of sin and shame!

-It's a claw, Father. -A claw? A clamp, you mean!

A sexual device to tickle the jaded senses of old men.

-No! -Give it to me.

-There's a curse on anyone who touches it. -Give it to me at once, sir!

-No, Father. -I will not have the trappings

of whoremongery and free love-ism under this roof!

No, don't touch it!

Turn away, woman, lest it arouse you to unseemly lubricity.

This is the devil's work!

-No! -And to the devil it shall return!

What's the matter, dear?

-I've broken my leg. -Oh, how could you, dear?

I was standing there and it just broke.

Oh! There goes the other one!

I've broken two now!

Kevin, dear?

Kevin!

Kevin! Please help us!

The claw had already begun its evil work.

-I knew that now there was little time left. -Kevin!

I had to get to Burma, somehow.

I was lucky.

I got the job as Captain upon the Greasy Bastard,

a tramp steamer which carried rubber goods and things for the weekend

between London and Rangoon.

It seemed an unbelievable stroke of luck.

But I knew that sometime, somewhere,

the claw would start to work its evil influence.

Fourteen starboard, Mr Jenkins.

Three degrees south-southeast.

-But even I was totally unprepared... -Steady.

For the way in which the curse was to manifest itself.

We were four days out of London,

when I began, to my horror,

to notice what an extraordinary, beautiful Chief Petty Officer Mr Russell was.

Could the claw be taking its revenge in this cruel way?

My shameful passion for the Chief Petty Officer grew and grew

and I was helpless in its grip.

Come.

Ah, Mr Russell.

Permission to speak with you, Captain.

Yes.

Well, it's... It's just that I...

I've noticed you looking at me, Captain.

Well, I... I look at all the men, Mr Russell.

Just a born starer, I suppose.

Not the way you've been looking at me, Captain.

Please don't be offended, Mr Russell.

I'm not offended, Captain.

That's what's worrying me.

Worrying you?

I, uh... I don't know how to say this, Captain.

What?

Ever since you first took over the ship,

I've, uh, felt attracted to you.

-Oh, my God! -Does that repel you?

I wish it did, Mr Russell.

I only wish it did.

May I touch you, Captain?

No! Oh! It's bad enough with a girl

but you're a... You're a man!

I know. I know.

You are a man, aren't you?

Of course I'm a man!

I'm sorry.

Don't be sorry. It's me that's sorry.

You don't know what it's like, trapped in this man's body.

Um, what are...

What are those?

-These? -Yes.

Oh, I've been putting on weight there ever since I was 16.

It's a recognised medical condition.

-Have you been to a doctor? -Doctors, surgeons.

There's nothing they can do. They just say I'll grow out of it.

Well, Mr Russell, since you are a man,

maybe it'd be all right for me to...

rub something on them?

It seemed as if the evil influence of the claw

was tearing away the last shreds of my manhood and dignity.

Would you, Captain?

Oh, yes,

Chief...

Petty...

Officer.

And yet, at that moment something changed.

As if the power of the claw seemed for a moment to be suddenly weakening.

That night we discovered that Russell had been wrong.

He was a woman after all.

It was a mistake anyone could have made

in the sort of society in which we'd been brought up.

We discovered that most of the rest of the crew were women as well.

Freed from the repressions of the world we left behind us,

we began to talk frankly about ourselves and our bodies and our needs.

I was happy for the first time in my life.

Until one day, with the coast of Burma almost in sight,

I realised once again, I'd underestimated the power of the claw.

Come.

Ah, well, be in Burma by tomorrow, eh, men? All packed?

We're not going to Burma, Captain.

-Hmm? -We're not going to Burma, Captain.

What do you mean? We're practically there.

It's too good here, Captain.

We've all found a freedom and happiness we can never find anywhere else.

Let's not just throw it all away.

Why can't we sail on like this forever?

Because I have to go to Burma. Look, I know we've been happy here.

I've learnt lots about...

Well, all sorts of things I didn't know about before.

What, like stoking the boiler, sir?

Yes, that. And, uh, other things.

Oh, I meant metaphorically, sir.

Oh. But I'm trusted to return this to its rightful owners

and I can't betray that trust.

You wouldn't let that come between us and our happiness?

A man's life depends on it.

Our happiness depends on it too, Captain.

Mr Russell! Mr Russell!

Mr Russell! Mr Russell! No, Mr Russell!

Mr Russell!

No, Mr Russell! You don't know what you're doing!

I do, Captain, I'm saving you. I'm saving all of us.

No, Mr Russell!

I was the only survivor.

When I finally got home, a dreadful sense of foreboding gripped me

as I returned to the house I'd loved so much.

During my absence, Uncle Jack had grown weaker and weaker.

He had caught a rare Spanish skin disease which cheered him up momentarily,

and a bout of myxomatosis, but apart from that, it had all been downhill.

Uncle Jack?

Did you return the claw, Kevin?

I'm sorry, Uncle Jack, I didn't.

Where is it?

It's in the Indian Ocean.

I'm sorry, Uncle Jack, I tried. Honestly, I was nearly there.

No, I know you couldn't, boy. I told you so.

The claw is too strong, too cunning.

-I'm sorry. -I'm done for now, boy.

I want you to promise me one thing.

Yes, Uncle Jack.

The claw must be stopped.

If it's allowed to go loose in the world, it could do untold damage.

One day, it will return to this house.

I want you to be here, always,

ready for when it comes.

But how can it, Uncle Jack? How can it?

It will.

It will.

Come here, boy.

I'll show you my...

So Uncle Jack passed away.

Within a year, a series of strange misfortunes befell my family.

My father suffocated

when a flock of starlings became entangled in his body cover.

And my mother was carried off by a golden eagle

at the Highland Games in Braemar in 1921.

And was never seen again.

As for me, I was named Uncle Jack's only heir.

He left me his house

and enough money to enable me to marry my childhood sweetheart, Agatha.

Since then I've hardly slept a single night.

My hair has turned white, and I've grown old before my time

waiting, just waiting for the claw to return and wreak its terrible revenge.

Do you think it will return here?

It has returned.

Today was my 60th birthday.

I came down this morning as usual.

There I found Lady Agatha, my wife,

my lovely wife, dead.

And beside her, on the trapeze,

was this.

-The claw! -Yes, the claw.

It has returned, just as Uncle Jack said it would.

They... They knew it was here.

Well, they were almost too late.

Now take it, take it. Take it with you!

And lift the curse that is upon this house forever.

What's the matter, Grosvenor?

There's a man in my bed, sir.

-I thought you liked that sort of thing. -He's a smelly old man, sir.

And he claims to have myxomatosis.

-What? -Yes. He's got a...

The claw had one final hideous trick to play on me.

Uncle Jack!

Oh, yes, sir!

I'll go, Grosvenor.

Very good, sir.

It's all right, dear, I'll answer it.

Agatha!

Agatha?

Agatha?

Agatha?

I say, Agatha!

Kevin, you will return home this instant.

Oh, please, Daddy, we're having such a super time at Uncle Jack's.

Your father has spoken, dear.

I will not have you showing off your body in this house of depravity.

You will come home, away from these lascivious dancing harlots and old men...