Original subtitles

[mysterious orchestral music]

[gong crashes]

- 1,000 years ago, at sunset,

a wise and elegant judge returned home from court

to dine with his young wife in their summer house

by the sea.

His steward, a sober and serious man,

met him at the door and said,

"I went to put away your winter robes in the old

"cedar wood trunk, sir, and found your wife had locked it.

"I believe there is a man inside it."

[tense percussive music]

[sitar music]

Not wishing to contradict the servant he trusted most,

the judge confronted his wife and asked her why

she would not let him open the trunk.

"Don't you trust me to manage our home as I please?"

she replied.

The judge feared the worst but decided to face up to it,

so he sent his servant away and asked his wife

to give him the key.

Perhaps the trunk held a thief.

Or did it contain a lover?

Or another woman, even?

Or nothing at all.

[percussive sitar music]

Holding the key in his hand, the judge considered

the trunk through the long hours of the night.

At dawn, he summoned the strongest members of his entourage

and told them, "This trunk is a curse upon our household."

He instructed them to take the trunk to a field,

some way from the summer house, and there they dug

a deep pit and buried it, unopened.

Later that day, the judge went to a high cliff

and threw the key into the ocean.

[epic orchestral music]

[mysterious music]

For 1,000 years, these eyes have been hidden

in the blackness of time.

That is to say, 1,000 of your years.

But on certain occasions,

I have been able to revisit the scenes of

my own brief existence and observe

once again, the endless struggle of the sexes.

I have always felt a certain sympathy for the more

bizarre aspects of human behavior.

Due, no doubt, to the peculiar circumstances

under which I departed from that struggle.

But who could have predicted the extremities

to which mankind, and more particularly, womankind would go

in the pursuit of, shall we say, satisfaction.

Nevertheless, I find upon my periodic visits

to the battlefield that the basic strategies

in this long fought campaign have altered little.

This young lady, for example,

whilst the clothes she's removing are unbecoming to my eyes,

the purpose she hopes to achieve

and the tactics she has chosen are as old as Adam.

Still, one must admit that it was wisely chosen,

for on this battlefield, the rules are different.

Not armies grappling with armies,

but male with female.

The fruits of victory do not go to the strongest

or the cleverest.

As I myself have good cause to know.

[organ music]

Since that first resounding defeat in the Garden of Eden,

the male sex has not yet regained the initiative.

[organ music]

Such seemingly impersonal displays are rarely suggesting

something rather more direct.

For example, imagine you were making love to this girl.

Imagine you were making love to this boy.

Imagine you were making love to this girl.

Imagine you were making love to this boy.

Imagine you were making love to this girl.

Imagine you were making love to this boy.

Imagine you were making love to this girl.

Imagine you were making love to this boy.

Imagine you were making love to this girl.

Imagine you were making love to this boy.

Imagine you were making love to this girl.

Imagine you were making love to this boy.

Imagine this girl was making love to you.

Imagine this boy was making love to you.

Imagine this girl was making love to you.

Imagine this boy was making love to you.

Imagine this girl was making love to you.

Imagine this boy was making love to you.

Imagine this girl was making love to you.

Imagine this boy was making love to you.

Imagine this girl was making love to you.

Imagine this boy was making love to you.

Imagine this girl was making love to you.

Imagine the consequences.

[water splashing]

Desirable and unattainable.

The torment of the damned whereby the sufferer

is alternately aroused and disappointed.

The promised paradise where every desire,

every fantasy will be gratified becomes a torture chamber.

I too once suffered those torments and the memory remains

across the long centuries.

What promises that are continually denied fulfillment

will in the end turn rotten?

The provocation cannot last forever.

Revenge becomes the only answer.

[sunny rock music]

[crowd booing and jeering]

[food smacks woman] [gasps]

[food hits women]

[gasping]

[crowd jeering]

[crowd cheering]

["When the Saints Go Marching In"]

[grunts] [women cheering]

Here is something that I beheld.

An episode which shows how some people will go

to any lengths to get what they want.

[man yelps]

[ragged breathing]

[groaning and panting]

- It wasn't always knights and fair damsels, you know.

I learned quite a bit about how to

inflict pain in those days.

Surprisingly, I only know just a little about

human physiology.

- How long would it take?

- You mean the book?

These big art books can take months.

A year, perhaps.

It's up to me how I go about it.

But I'm very fussy about having the right models.

They must look reasonably strong.

They must be sensitive as well.

- Sensitive?

- Well, intelligent.

Generally speaking, the more intelligent a person is,

the more they react to pain.

Oh I must admit, withheld pains are very variable

and interesting subject.

We're been appointed torturing a weakling.

- But we're only taking pictures.

- Of course, that's why I chose you.

I wanted an ordinary fellow who was intelligent enough

to express pain even though he'd never experienced it.

- It seems an odd subject for a woman.

I mean a book on medieval tortures.

Do you know a lot about it?

- I just do what I'm commissioned to do, you know?

- All the same, you seem to know a lot about

the human body.

What it likes.

And what it doesn't.

- I've studied it from time to time.

One of us may as well be comfortable at any rate.

In the old days, men in the navy used to be able to survive

two or 300 lashes.

Of course, sometimes they didn't.

Not many could today.

But I wonder what the reason for that was.

[snaps fingers]

Probably because of anesthetics.

Pain inflicted during anesthesia

and not consciously experienced, but still recorded

by you and can be re-stimulated at a later date.

Such recordings are called N grams.

And in a fairly general way I think,

lower your tolerance to pain. [camera shutter clicks]

Tell me, do you find it a little warm in here?

- A little. - Too much perhaps?

- Not really.

- Good.

I want you on form for our last chart.

I think we can do it before lunch.

Norma.

Go and get me the Spanish horse.

[dramatic music]

- Is that the one with the weights?

- Yes, that's the one with the weights.

It's very important.

It's for the front cover of the advertisement.

It took me a long time to work out

how it should be arranged.

- Yes, you explained it to me yesterday.

The one where I'm strung up over a sharp blade,

charming, with death in an hour.

- Two hours probably, but anything can happen.

It was a little uncomfortable I understand,

so I hope you're feeling athletic.

Now go and wash and change.

Your steed awaits you.

[gothic organ music]

[chains rattling]

[gothic organ music]

[fabric rips]

[suspenseful music]

[chain clicking]

[chain rattles]

- Hold on, don't hang about, this is torture.

- Exactly, dear boy.

And furthermore, your expression is beginning to

capture the mood completely.

- [Model] No!

[gasping]

- Practice hard until I'm ready for the shot.

In the meantime, I'll be back after lunch.

- No, no!

No!

[crying]

- I know we haven't come here for quite a long time.

As you say-- - It's dirty in here.

- It's not that clean.

Of course the lack of choice.

- Oh my God.

My God.

My God.

[women chatting indistinctly

- A job like that.

It's just [mumbles].

I always mistrust anything that they can do is a [mumbles].

There must be something wrong with it.

They only like to use the very best quality.

[sighing]

[scraping plate] [groans]

[moaning in pain]

But you can't help to keep things up.

- No, of course not.

- It's nearly time now.

[patrons chattering]

I thought we might make a start on

another job tomorrow morning.

[suspenseful music]

[light clicks on]

Perfect, dear boy.

Quite perfect.

[camera shutter clicking]

[suspenseful music]

Norma, come and help me.

That's just how I like it, old man.

[suspenseful music]

- A terrible death, you would say.

As you look at her unique illustrations,

recreated with such pain and loving care by the authoress,

and yet, the agony of a soul mutilated in manhood

will continue long after the body has ceased to bleed.

Scientists in pursuit of knowledge can also inflict anguish,

even as in this case, on those they hold

most precious to them.

[thunder crashing]

- You-- [blows match]

Were the star of my partage night, Mary-Clare.

- On the contrary, I think I probably annoyed

some of your guests.

- You out-charm them.

Women, their looks, men with your brains.

And you're not afraid to antagonize people.

Ha ha, I like that.

Even clever women sometimes pretend to be stupid.

- My work as a scientist has made me honest.

Your friends only know about making money.

I know about other things, that's all.

- I only know about making money.

Do you despise me as well?

- No, I should like to be rich too.

- Now you disappoint me, Mary-Clare.

You have brains and beauty.

What more does a woman need?

- How old fashioned you can be, Sacha.

The days have gone when a woman can rely on being

pretty and gay and witty to get her own in the world.

Your wife was like that, Sacha, wasn't she?

Where is she now?

Besides, I have responsibilities.

The responsibilities of a man.

- Your mother? - Yes.

- How is she?

- She has a disease.

A disease that will get worse, more ugly,

more demanding and more expensive.

It is called a degenerative disease,

and that describes it exactly,

the degeneration of a human being.

- But with your brains and training,

you can make money, enough I mean to ease the burdens and--

- How naive you are, Sacha.

Your brains make money, mine don't.

What interests you exactly, Sacha?

I've been your lover now for nearly six months

and yet in a way I know hardly anything about you.

The house in which my mother and I live is palatial,

more than enough for us.

Yet three months ago it was teeming with poor families.

You cleared the way.

We'll go to fashionable clubs and restaurants together,

and there's always a table waiting for you.

Everywhere you go, the path is cleared for you.

Or is it you who has already cleared the path?

- Hm, you shouldn't ask so many questions

when you and your mother moved into your new home.

- No, I'm not interested in your business activities,

that's understood.

But I am interested to know that there are

not enough for you, you want something else.

What is it?

- I had a son once.

He was killed.

- Yes, I know, he was killed in a car accident.

- My wife was driving.

She killed him.

- It was an accident. - Oh, yes, yes.

Of course, an accident.

- But you could have had more children.

- Has it happened?

No.

Now, should we change the subject?

- But you could have had a child.

- Could have had a child.

Could have had a child.

Don't you think I'd have given everything I own

to have a child?

After my son was killed,

I was too old to have more children.

I've been cheated and robbed of the only thing

I ever really wanted, a child.

A son.

I'll probably insult you, Mary-Clare, but for me,

women are just a vehicle for the most important thing

in a man's life, his son.

- Don't apologize.

It's quite a scientific point of view.

But you can still have a son.

- At my age?

At 68?

You're laughing at me.

- Yes, I'm laughing at you.

Didn't you know that a man of 70 can be as fertile

as a boy of 20?

For a woman it's different.

Our fertility starts to decline after the age of 30.

You men are very lucky.

- Well. - It's perfectly possible.

I thought everybody knew the facts.

- Well I, I don't have time to read every medical paper.

So, to keep abreast, I'm a busy man.

Besides, I don't want anything to go wrong again.

- What should go wrong? - I don't know.

Anyway, tell me how many men have suddenly become fathers?

- [chuckles] Most men of 70 don't want to,

and usually they have wives who are too old.

- But in my case-- [chuckling]

Oh now you are laughing at me.

- In your case, dear Sacha, in your case,

I should say everything was possible.

And I say that as a woman and a scientist.

[liquid bubbling]

- So you're going to leave us, Mary-Clare.

And at such an interesting time.

- What time is this?

For five years now, I've been working on the blood groups

of mice, rats and monkeys.

And so far my findings have not benefited

the human race to the extent of one single aspirin.

- You know very well, Mary-Clare, how long it takes

to establish any research program.

Especially in the case of genetics.

So much depends on luck and chance.

A paper has just been published in America

which ties in exactly with the blood groupings

you have been dealing with.

Look, read this.

- But this consigns-- - The very disease

your own mother suffers from.

- But it shows a hereditary factor.

- Yes, we've always suspected it.

But this shows exactly how the defective gene works.

From these conclusions it is almost certain

that the gene first shows deterioration in the female,

as in your mother's case, and it's finally transmitted

to the male line in the form of

serious malformation at birth.

[mysterious music drowns out speaking]

- And the hereditary disposition?

- Well, as you know, you yourself are perfectly normal.

And of course, the defective gene has a habit

of skipping a generation.

It may disappear entirely from the female line.

Mary-Clare, are we discussing this on a personal

or a professional level?

- Professional, of course, Dr. Rilke.

Naturally I'm interested to know the link between

the blood groupings that I have been working on

and the disease that you are now discussing.

In your opinion, what exactly are the risks

of producing a congenital malformation

in the third generation?

I mean, if I had a child.

- Well they can be calculated.

Firstly they would only affect a male child.

This makes it 50/50. - And then?

- The chances of a male child being affected

are very high, almost one in three, it seems.

Altogether a woman with this factor in her background

would do better to avoid having children.

You see, Mary-Clare, why are you leaving us?

This research could help establish your name.

It could open the field to many future programs.

- And how much would that be worth?

To me, I mean.

Another $500 a year, perhaps?

That is if the department doesn't mean some more

expensive equipment.

There, Dr. Rilke.

I'm leaving in order to get married.

- Oh my dear child.

What can I say?

- Dr. Rilke, my fiance will be coming here soon

to collect me.

When you see him, you will have no need

to say anything at all.

[suspenseful music]

Ah, there you are.

Dr. Rilke, I'd like you to meet Mr. Sacha Seremona,

my fiance. - How do you do, Dr. Rilke.

- Mary-Clare has spoken to me of you.

- Already factoring.

I sometimes wonder if she ever takes my mental image

picture beyond that door over there.

- [chuckles] I can assure you, she does.

Come, Mary-Clare.

Goodnight to you, Dr. Rilke.

Hope we should have the pleasure of

meeting one another again.

- Goodnight, Dr. Rilke.

[liquid bubbling]

And have you received the result of your test yet?

- They tell me that my [clears throat] virility

is the equivalent of that of a man in his 30s.

Aha.

[triumphant orchestral music]

[bell ringing]

[mysterious music]

[suspenseful music]

- You are concerned for Mary-Clare, no doubt.

Do not be too unhappy for her.

The child will only live a few days at most.

It's a terrible thing to happen to any mother.

But Mary-Clare is also a scientist.

She knew the risk she was taking.

- She knew? - Of course.

It was almost the last thing we discussed

in the laboratory.

[menacing chuckling]

- The next skirmish in this battle of the sexes

takes place in a dwelling near a vast, barren field.

Here, day and night, the great flying machines

circle and ascend, shriek and scream,

filling the air with their fearful cry.

[plane whooshes]

[uplifting classical music]

[plane whooshes]

[uplifting classical music]

[applause on radio]

- [Radio Announcer] That performance--

[indistinct radio chatter]

Hamburg.

Our next program is a personal impression

of a Kensington flower show which opens up tomorrow.

The speaker is Dame Henrietta Elfred Bobbin,

better known as the columnist Caroline--

[thumping up stairs]

The talk was recorded earlier today at the flower show.

- [Henrietta] Fabulous is the only word for the display

of the flower show this year--

- Christ, a bird!

[plane whooshing]

[grunts]

- Just a minute, what'd you want to do

a thing like that for?

You can deal with a girl, can't you?

[grunts]

Why you wouldn't want to call the police, would you?

- Why wouldn't I, why not?

- Because, because they'd only spoil our fun, that's why.

- [Henrietta] Nowhere to begin.

I'd say that much to Lady Mimi

and her charming younger son--

- Do you have a bathroom?

- Why?

- Because I got a bit dirty downstairs,

and I'd like to go and wash.

- Over there, behind you.

- [Henrietta] A little further on,

Mrs. Antonia Gordon Gordon, elegant and petite

in a see through satin cat suit was exhibiting

several red flowering red currant bushes from her estate

in Long's Norton Green.

I was invited to pluck some of the fruit myself

and taste the firm, juicy flesh.

It always comes as such a surprise for so decorative a bush.

Eversmore annex next door is a special section

of carnivorous plants,

very popular with the younger visitors.

I saw the honorable Timothy Noteworthy,

six year old heir to the old water,

quite absorbed by a sundew plant that was catching

and devouring the unfortunate creatures that flitted past.

Timothy was accompanied by his elder sister,

the lovely Lady Patricia.

Lady Patricia, formerly Lord Patrick,

gave me a fascinating account of her, his,

recent operation in Denmark.

His, her, engagement to the brilliant young film producer

Peter Walking was announced last week,

and I hear that her fiance has offered her the leading role

in his new film Whatever Turns You On, Betty.

A complete contrast is the old world English garden

in the Albian Pavilion.

Here, one is transported back to the fairytale enchantments

of childhood, and I almost think I saw a fairy or two

slipping through the dreaming, shadowy glades.

Perhaps my favorite old English flower is

the evening primrose, opening at dusk

and staying sensibly closed during the day.

My companion, the dour [mumbles]--

- I don't expect you to believe a word I say,

but I can stand anything except being dirty.

- [Henrietta] The English gentleman.

The dour [mumbles] who since the death of her husband

has devoted herself to animal welfare.

- I don't believe a word you say,

but if you must lean up, I have some very exclusive

lemon and cucumber soap.

My wife orders it from the health food store.

Smells good, even tastes good.

- Go ahead then, baby.

Eat me up.

- [Henrietta] Of course these luscious tropical growths

don't acquire a great deal of water,

and consequently the atmosphere is rather--

- It's cold!

Take it away, it's cold!

Turn the hot on. - All right, all right.

- Oh!

- [Henrietta] My word, how they respond to it.

I swear you can almost feel them sucking in

the moisture in great, thirsty gulps.

I always look forward to the display of Ramosa.

Such a variety, and awakening so many lovely memories.

One of my young acquaintances pointed out

a specimen that I've not seen here at all.

[plane whooshing]

If you touch one of the end leaflets,

or the other leaflets close together one after the other,

until the whole leaf is folded,

finally, the stalk itself turns slowly downwards,

shrinks, and withdraws from contact.

- Oh, lovely.

- [Henrietta] And the effect upon my young acquaintance,

who remain there for several hours,

wrapped inside detention.

And the cactus house is never short of admirers,

and no wonder. - Now it's your turn.

- [Henrietta] Yeah, nature demonstrates the extraordinary

diversity possible within the familiar cycle

of seed, fruit, and flower. - Yeah.

Yeah!

- [Henrietta] Particularly by sharp spines

and crowned with coarsely perfumed flowers.

Any mind as that, as so often in life,

the struggle to win through is richly rewarded.

[plane whooshes]

One of the judges in this section is that popular hostess

Lady Gwendolyn Blunt.

And I've often wondered if her great love of cacti

is not in some measure due to the many years she spent--

[plane whooshing]

[orchestral music]

[softly moaning]

[plane whooshing]

[orchestral music]

[woman moaning]

- [Man On Phone] Hello, hello?

Hello, hello?

[woman moaning]

[indistinct talking on phone]

Will you please repress your receiver.

Hello subscriber.

Subscriber?

Will you please repress your receiver.

Hello subscriber, subscriber?

Are you in trouble?

Are you in trouble?

Do you require any help?

Hello subscriber.

Do you require some assistance?

Hello, hello?

Hello subscriber, do you need any emergency service?

Hello, hello?

Hello subscriber.

Hello, hello!

Will you please repress your receiver--

[woman moaning]

[both moaning]

[jovial music]

- I'll be back in a second.

Be good.

[jovial music]

[whip cracks]

I'm entitled to some return for my night's work, aren't I?

- [Man] You've got it, didn't you?

- Now what are you going to do?

- Call the police.

What I should have done in the first place.

- You've left that a bit late, haven't you?

- Oh yes? - Yes.

Yes I really think you have.

What would the police make of a case where

the wicked burglar was invited in to take a shower,

provided with clean towels and cucumber soap.

And even more important, invited into bed.

That of course could be proved.

I don't think they'll believe your story.

But on the other hand.

Your wife might.

She looks a very serious-minded woman to me.

[plane whooshes]

[mysterious music]

- Your republic has brought great confusion to the sex war.

Life is so steeped in fantasy

that it ceases to have a reality.

[urgent music]

- Agent 28, this is your first assignment.

All your predecessors have failed.

Get the defense detail of the Yellow River Project.

They keep it at the Maranian Embassy.

- But how do I get inside the embassy?

- Ask our man Phil Pott

He's resourceful and full of ideas.

[lively music]

- The eyes of our enemies are everywhere.

To mislead them, we must pretend we are just friends,

and at no time must we give the impression

we are conducting business.

- How very clever.

- We'll discuss things and listen tomorrow.

[quirky music]

[suspenseful music]

- How am I doing, do you think people suspect

the secret agents in conference?

- You're doing swell, baby, keep it up.

Create the right public image.

[dramatic piano music]

[energetic piano music]

[spring bouncing]

[head thumps]

[energetic piano music]

[metallic clanging]

[cranking]

[indistinct high pitched chattering]

[energetic piano music]

[bangs head]

[metallic clanging]

[energetic piano music]

[soft piano music]

[dramatic music]

- You really think it's necessary to keep up

the image here inside your flat?

- Absolutely essential, baby.

Absolutely essential.

- But how am I going to get into the Moranian Embassy?

[dramatic music]

[exciting music]

- I thought of a way to get in.

Use that invitation they sent us with a gala reception.

Be careful.

All your predecessors have failed in this job.

[trumpeting music]

[cork pops] [woman laughing]

- Tell me, Lady Willinston, is Lord still

out in the boy scouts?

- Well he must have his little hobbies, you know.

- Oh mustn't we all, after all.

- [Lady Willinston] Yes, it's the joy of life.

[indistinct crosstalk]

- For the forest on nuclear stripe power.

- You would? - After breakfast.

- Control yourself, Forrest, you're not a member

of the CIA anymore.

[orchestral music]

- I like to dance with pretty dollies.

- Who are you?

- I'm your host, Dale Bazidone,

but you can call me what you like.

[orchestral music]

- [Lindy Voiceover] For a moment, I thought I'd come

to the wrong place.

It was difficult to imagine anything important

being handled by these dodgy old lunatics.

- Excuse me sir, or madam.

Have you seen a dolly about so high with bedroom eyes

and breasts like Brazilian sun dunes.

[dramatic music]

[crowd chattering]

[dramatic music]

- Get lost-- [woman screams]

[crashes to ground]

- Where have you been all my life, my darling?

- Who are you, creep?

- I am Fritz, the military attache.

- As I said, what an interesting face.

So manly, so appealing, so soothing, so wow.

- Why am I cursed with this instant sex allure?

[mysterious music]

[woman laughing]

- [Lindy Voiceover] So manly, so wow.

- [Fritz Voiceover] Another little drink

and she can't say no no more.

[mysterious music]

- [Lindy Voiceover] I can see the safe.

Time he took the pill.

Sleep well, sweet jerk.

[mysterious music]

Now for the secrets in the safe.

[Fritz snoring]

Man, is this heavy.

I bet it's chock o' block with top secrets.

- [Fritz Voiceover] Ah, little does she know,

I never swallowed the pill.

[slams safe shut]

[mysterious music]

- Boy, who are you?

- Welcome, you must be Agent 28.

- How did you know?

- I am Agent 27.

We are all here down to number one.

- That military attache wasn't so stupid after all.

[dramatic music]

- The deepest wounds often lie

beneath the surface, and a crippled sensibility,

like a crippled limb, has need of artificial aids,

the fantasies evoked by these unnatural passions

are still capable of fulfillment.

An appetite to be satisfied, like any other.

Necessity, however, can make curious bed fellows.

[water dripping]

[water running]

[phone dial whirs]

- Hello?

Do you have girls?

Oh you do, all kinds.

Well, I'd like a nice one, please.

Age, I'm 19 but I only look 29.

I have dark hair.

I do not wear glasses, blue eyes, and I'm clean,

six foot two, I've got all my own teeth.

Oh I see, the girl's age.

Well the girl, as long as she's sweet and she likes

the sort of things I do, she must like pets, and petting.

Yes, I'm a visitor.

When do I want her?

Right now!

There's no one free.

Well what do I do then?

You?

Sit down, pigeon.

Now, put out your mitt and close your eyes

and you will get a groovy surprise.

Shut your eyes.

Your mitt, stupid.

- Surprise, surprise, big spender.

That's my usual.

Thank you.

- You get twice that when you leave.

- I want to see what I'm doing.

- All right then, pigeon.

You'll see.