All language subtitles for Alfred.Hitchcock.Presents.4x27.The.Waxwork

Good evening.

This is called a rack.

A kind of medieval chaise longue.

The victim lies down, and his limbs
are fastened to the rollers at each end.

The body is then gradually stretched
to and past the breaking point.

They were quite droll
in those days.

You see a Latin inscription,

placed so the victim
can't read it.

NUNC POTES ALTIOR QUAM ILLAM

Meaning, "Now you can be
taller than she is."

Tonight we are presenting a
play entitled, "The Waxwork."

First, however,

we have the 20th century
equivalent of the rack.

Now, please, no screams.

After all, this hurts me
more than it does you.

LONDON 1954

Marriner's Waxworks

A guide book, please.

It is a shilling,
isn't it?

- She's wax, sir.
- She's what?

Of course, wax.

It happens all the time.

That's a comfort.

Would you care for
our souvenir booklet?

- Ah, yes, please.
- They're two shillings.

I'm looking for Mr. Marriner.

His office is over there.

Uh, hold on. I believe
you'll find him next door.

Oh, thank you.

Now, don't move!

Please! Please!
Watch what you're doing!

Albert! Albert!

He shouldn't
have been left here.

Albert, he shouldn't have
been left here. It isn't safe.

Take him out,
will you, please?

Yes.

You really must be
more careful...

Wait.

What are you doing here,
young man?

The public isn't allowed
in this part of the building.

My name is Raymond Houston. I'm from
the illustrated weekly, This World:

I wrote you about
doing a feature story.

Oh, yes.
Yes, I remember.

Well, shall we have
another look at this? Come.

May I?

I'm afraid that's
rather out of drawing.

Yes, I turned your letter
over to Mr. Roberts,

our public relations man.
He...

I spoke to Mr. Roberts
yesterday, but...

Well, I simply
had to see you,

so I took the liberty
of finding my way up here.

Yes, that's a liberty you
hadn't ought to have taken.

I wanted to persuade you to let me
spend the night in the Murderers' Den.

Oh, I'm sure Mr. Roberts has told you
that that would be quite impossible.

I have an idea for a very
interesting layout with photographs.

It'd be good
publicity for you.

Well, I mean, not that your
famous museum needs it, of course.

You know, in order to
become an artisan in wax,

one must turn oneself
into a combination

artist and surgeon.

One must...

one must learn the relation
between bone and muscle,

the precise strain which movement
places upon tendons and joints.

You see?

I'd call my article,

"A Night with
Marriner's Murderers."

Ah, would you now?

Yeah. A heading like that
would attract a lot of readers.

I'm sure it'd cause
a lot of interest.

I'll take that.

Herbert.

I want you to see this.

She is removing the lines and bubbles
that the mold leaves on a cast.

Well, everybody knows that
a Marriner waxwork is perfect.

Wrong.

It's the imperfection,

the blemish, the wrinkle,

the thousand signs by which nature
writes the diary of a human life.

May I?

Vile botchery!

Botchery!

Mr. Houston,

why is it so important to you to
spend the night in my Murderers' Den?

Well, I...

Perhaps I better
give you the real reason.

You see...

Well, I like to gamble.

Ah. Cards or horses?

Cards.

Well, the other night
I lost a good deal of money

to an Englishman
I know very slightly,

a man called
Dicky Morrison.

Well, to cut the story short, I gave
him a check which I knew would bounce.

That is a criminal
offense, you know.

He notified me yesterday
that he intends to prosecute,

unless I can pay.

Now, my editor wants
this story very badly.

I know that if you'll let me spend
the night here and write my article,

I can earn enough
to pay the debt.

Mr. Houston, you put me in
a very difficult position...

Her Majesty looks rather
well today, don't you think?

What's that, sir?

Each one of our wax figures gets a
beauty treatment every four months.

And the Virgin Queen has
just returned from hers.

Good day, Mrs. Nobbs.
How is your rheumatism?

Much better.

Thank you, sir.

It's quite all right.

You'll notice that hair
is put into a wax head

one strand at a time.

Look, Mr. Marriner, my job, my
future, everything depends on this...

Now, look, young man,

I can't be made to feel
responsible for your predicament.

Haven't you any friends?

You mean, friends
I can borrow from?

Is that your definition
of friendship?

Well, the answer's no.

Actually, you see,

I've only been in London
for a few months.

This is the young man

that you had an encounter
with a little while ago.

His name is Bourdette.
Or was.

Yes, I'm afraid

he'll be the last star
boarder in my Den of Murderers.

Oh, why?

Well, any day now,
Parliament will pass a law

putting an end
to capital punishment.

This fellow was
executed this morning

and so obliged us
in the nick of time.

He was a barber by day.

By night, a murderer
ten times over.

And always

with a razor.

I know.

I covered his trial.

I lost a bet on him, too. I...
bet he wouldn't be convicted.

Oh, why do you
think that?

Oh, I don't know.

He used to practice mesmerism.

I see.

And you thought he might
mesmerize the jury

or the witnesses
or perhaps even the judge?

I know it sounds ridiculous, but...

he had extraordinary eyes.

Yes, a fact the prosecution brought out.

And according to the evidence
developed at the trial,

he was said to have hypnotized his
victims before dispatching them.

Really quite humane
of him, I think.

His eyes are
extraordinarily life-like.

Well, in a wax figure,

the eyes are of
the utmost importance.

There.

As you can see, Mr. Houston,
this eye is definitely blue.

But you have no idea how difficult
it is to get the exact shade of blue.

Yes, we take a great deal
of trouble with the eyes.

Look, Mr. Marriner,

I don't seem to be able
to get through to you.

I've got to write this article.

For the last time, please, may I spend
the night with Bourdette and the others?

I shall have to
think about it.

It's 8:00. We're closed.
Murderer's Den

On the house.

Oh, the writer fellow.

Good luck, sir.

Thank you.

Harry's been with us
for over 50 years,

before we had
the fire in 1925.

Oh, that reminds me, sir,
Mr. Marriner said to be sure,

no smoking.

The wax, you know.

It's gloomy enough
down here.

Just right
for these beauties.

I guess I'll find all the
information I need in this guide.

Well, if there's anything special you
want to know, I'd be glad to tell you.

Ah, here's an
interesting chap.

Jack Sheppard, in the
cell of Newgate Prison,

from whence he
made his escape.

Good evening, Mr. Houston.

I trust that everything
is to your liking.

And I hope that
you will be comfortable,

locked in here
with my little creatures.

Locked in?

What do you mean?

Who said anything
about being locked?

But my dear Houston,

you could hardly expect me to leave
these valuable creatures of mine unlocked.

Well, of course, I'll be here.

- But I'm afraid that...
- I know it sounds silly,

but I have a kind of funny
feeling about being closed in.

- Once when I was...
- Claustrophobia?

Yeah. Yeah, I...

Something like that,
I guess.

The morbid fear of being
in confined places.

That's too bad.

Well, I suppose we'd best
forget the whole thing.

No, no, no.
No, I can't do that.

All right. I'll stay.

Locked in?

Locked in.

Good night, Mr. Houston.

This is no place for anyone
with a weak heart... or weak nerves...

"Torture was widely used
in medieval times

as a judicial instrument
for the extraction of evidence

from unwilling witnesses.

It was also employed
as a form of trial

to determine guilt or innocence.

Fifty seven, Petiot, Marcel.

Guillotined in Paris,
20th of May, 1946."

Landru.

Morrison.

Armstrong.

Seddon.

Bourdette.

Why, of course,
you're the new boarder.

You only arrived
just yesterday.

Group of 5 under scaffold

"The figure of Bourdette appears
to be moving menacingly toward me."

Good evening.

You cannot move or speak
without my bidding.

But you can hear me
perfectly well.

Something tells me that you
are, shall we say, nervous?

My dear sir,
have no illusions.

I am not one of these
contemptible effigies.

I am the barber,
Bourdette himself.

They did not
execute me this morning.

I escaped.

I was walking
past this building

when I saw a policeman
eyeing me with curiosity.

And I did not know whether
he would recognize me or not.

So I decided to mingle
with the crowd in here.

And once inside, I realized I
had an ideal means of escape.

As you may understand, this has
been a tiring evening for me.

But fortunately your
attention was drawn elsewhere.

And you were
not looking at me,

so I could occasionally draw
a breath and ease my pose.

And now I'm looking
at your throat.

You have a skinny neck, sir.

If you will forgive
the personal remark.

I like thick necks.

Thick, red necks.

This is a little
French razor.

They are not
much used in England.

One strops them on wood.

The blade, you notice,
is very narrow.

It doesn't cut very deep,

but deep enough.

And now, I must ask you
the usual question

all the barbers
ask the customers.

Does this razor suit you, sir?

Would you please
lift your chin a little?

A little more.

Ah, perfect.

Thank you. Thank you.

I never heard
a sound all night.

But when I opened the gates at 6:00
this morning, like he told me to,

there he was,
sitting in that chair.

He's dead, all right.

What do you suppose caused him
to be sitting like that, sir?

You mean, as if awaiting
the attention of a barber?

Well, yes. He looks like
he was waiting to be shaved.

"The figure of Bourdette appears
to be moving menacingly towards me.

Power of imagination
amazingly strong."

I'm afraid we must credit
another victim to Bourdette.

Bourdette, sir?

Bourdette and
an overactive imagination.

But it couldn't have
been Bourdette, sir.

He ain't never been here!

Well, you know
as well as I do,

he was only hanged
yesterday, sir.

Well, look for yourself, sir.
They're just bringing him down now.

So much for our
museum memories.

In the earlier
part of this program,

I referred to the commercial
as the 20th century rack.

Unfortunately,
our sensitive sponsor

mistakenly interpreted this
as a veiled insult.

I certainly want to apologize.

Furthermore, I'm going
to turn over a new leaf.

There, I feel much better.

Now, ladies and gentlemen,
before I return...

A moment ago, I apologized for
comparing the rack and the commercial.

But I neglected to mention
to whom I was apologizing.

I think I shall leave it that way.

As for this charming device,

it is being returned to the athletic
department of Arcadia University.

I especially wish to thank
the Arcadia basketball coach,

Stretch Mulligan, for his generosity.

Good night.