Original subtitles

Show yourself!

I know you're out there.

Help!

Help me!

Somebody help me!

Help!

Dear Mr. Talbot,

I believe your brother has mentioned me to you in his correspondence.

I'm Gwen Conliffe, Ben's fiancée.

I'm writing to inform you of your brother's disappearance.

He has been missing now for several weeks and we fear the worst.

It has come to my attention that you are currently here in England

with your theater company, but that you return to America soon.

I understand that you have not spoken to your family in many years,

but I implore you to help us find Ben.

Please come home to Talbot Hall.

Hello?

Samson!

Lawrence?

Hello, Father.

Lo and behold, the prodigal son returns.

I hope you're not expecting the fatted calf.

Stay!

We don't have many visitors.

You seem well.

I've often wondered what you look like.

You've come about your brother, have you?

Stay.

Yes.

Miss Conliffe learned that I was in London...

- Samson. - And sent me a letter

saying that Ben has disappeared.

I thought I'd offer my help in any which way I can.

Yes, what a splendid idea, Lawrence. A splendid idea.

Too late, I'm afraid.

Unfortunately, your brother's body

was found in a ditch by the priory road yesterday morning.

I assume you have something to wear for the funeral.

Sir John.

You remember my son, Lawrence?

Singh, my servant.

Master Lawrence.

It's nice to see you, Lawrence.

It's good that you're here.

Has Miss Conliffe been notified?

She's upstairs in her bedroom, asleep.

Where are they keeping Ben's body?

Your father instructed me to bury your brother's effects with him.

It seems a shame.

Thank you.

I wouldn't, sir. It's...

I missed his whole life.

What if it wasn't a beast at all, but a cunning murderer?

Someone who bore a grudge against one of these men.

To misdirect the authorities, he kills the men,

and then he tears up the bodies to make it look like a wild beast was responsible.

Ridiculous! Who would go to such lengths?

What about that gypsy dancing bear? It could have done it.

That mangy thing?

Kill three men? I doubt it.

I saw the bodies with my own eyes.

Unnatural wounds. Most unnatural.

Made by a fell creature, I say.

Damn gypsies wandering the countryside, bringing their woe and deviltry with them.

They show up, and two weeks later this happens!

My guess is Ben Talbot went to their camp to have it off with a gypsy whore.

The bear gets hold of him, and they dump what's left of him in the ditch!

Got nothing to do with the gypsies.

Twenty-five years ago now,

me Pa found him.

Quinn Noddy and all his flock.

Brains and guts and God-knows-what lying all over the moor for a quarter mile.

And, Quinn, the look on his face.

Like he'd been eaten alive.

Whatever did it was big, had claws, and didn't mind a load of buckshot.

After that, me Pa went home and melted down me Ma's wedding spoons

and cast silver bullets on them.

Wouldn't leave the house on a full moon from then on.

I still say that bear's to blame.

Can I help you, sir?

I was hoping to have a word with Miss Conliffe.

Just a moment, sir.

Miss Conliffe.

I am Lawrence.

I know who you are.

I'm sorry we're meeting like this.

These were Ben's.

He'd want you to have them.

If there's anything you need, anything at all, please let me know.

I want to know what happened to him.

I'll do everything I can.

Thank you.

Thank you for coming.

I saw Ben's body today.

What kind of animal could have done such a thing?

I've seen the work of a Kodiak bear and a Bengal tiger,

nature at its most vicious,

but I must say, I've never seen anything like this.

People in town say it was a man.

You mean a raving lunatic at loose on the moor?

Yes, it's possible, but I think I would have run him down with my dogs.

On the other hand,

the wounds are so terrible that only something human

would seem capable of such wanton malevolence.

I found a strange medallion among Ben's belongings.

Yes, Saint Columbanus. He was an Eastern saint.

He was also a gypsy.

So did Ben have dealings with the gypsies?

Yes, he was our negotiator.

The local gentry would pay a fee,

and the gypsies would keep their criminal activities to a minimum.

And they would move on once they'd sold the local lads all the wine

and dark-haired ladies they could stand.

That orbed maiden with white fire laden, whom mortals call the moon,

glides glimmering o'er my fleece-like floor...

By the midnight breezes strewn.

She exerts enormous power, doesn't she?

I wish things were different.

Never look back, Lawrence. Never look back.

The past is a wilderness of horrors.

Lawrence, I'm glad you're home.

Mother!

Mother!

Lawrence.

Lawrence.

Lawrence, wake up.

I heard something.

Lawrence.

Lawrence, I'm scared.

Go back to bed.

Mother?

Mother!

- Hello. - Hello.

Ben said that you played here as children.

It was our refuge.

From what?

You mean from whom.

Your father,

he has a way with being distant.

Ben told me it was because I reminded him of your mother.

He said you did, as well.

Which is why he put me in an asylum for a whole year,

then shipped me off to my aunt in America.

You sure you won't stay one more night?

My father has lodgings at the inn,

and that's more convenient for the train, so...

When do you return to London?

Not till I find out what happened to my brother.

Lawrence, that's all well and good,

but I think your inquiry could wait until tomorrow.

The moon is full tonight, and I'd prefer that you stay inside

in the event that your raving lunatic theory is correct.

I don't want to lose you too.

Take your horse, sir?

Good evening.

He says you must stay in the camp. The woods are not safe.

Ask him if he knows anyone who sells these.

You want to talk to Maleva.

- To who? - Maleva.

It was found on my brother's body.

Your caravan shows up, three men are killed.

I don't think it's a coincidence.

There is no coincidence.

Only fate.

But she plays a hidden hand.

Tell me about my brother.

Run round the back!

Give us the bloody bear, you old snake handler.

We know what's been going on.

Nonsense. He dances, that's all.

Come on! Get off! What's going on here?

We've come for the bear, Nye. It done all the killing.

For goodness' sake! He's harmless.

- What happened? - It's the Devil! The Devil!

Mama! Mama!

Maria!

Maria! Where are you, Maria?

Maria!

Over there!

Maria!

Maria!

Mama!

- Mama! - My baby.

Take the girl. Stay in the camp.

Boy!

Boy!

Go back, get help!

Get Maleva!

Once he is bitten by the beast, there is no cure.

You should let him die.

You would make me a sinner.

There is no sin in killing a beast.

Is there not?

Sometimes the way of fate is a cruel one.

He can only be released by someone who loves him.

Lawrence.

Holy Mother of God.

Help me with him, Singh.

Do thou but thine, and be not diffident of wisdom.

She deserts thee not if thou dismiss not her.

Lawrence?

Get Dr. Lloyd.

Are you all right?

Yes, I feel better.

I thought you were leaving.

Well, this place is impossible to escape.

Besides, it's the least I could do.

What did the gypsies say?

Some nonsense about the Devil being at Blackmoor.

It's remarkable.

A week ago, I would have said you'd never use that arm again.

And now?

It seems to have healed itself.

I'll be back to check on you at the end of the week.

Thank you, Doctor.

- Miss Conliffe. - Yes?

- I want to thank you. - For?

For prolonging your stay here at Blackmoor with us during this difficult time.

Had there been some sense of filial obedience,

well, you would not have been inconvenienced.

Well, Lawrence was trying to find out what happened to Ben.

And now we know it's still out there.

Nevertheless, I thank you.

Not at all.

You should be asleep, Lawrence.

So should you.

Is there anything I can get for you?

Are you expecting a war?

A Sikh is a warrior of God. He must always arm himself against evil.

Do you believe in curses?

This house has seen more than its share of suffering.

Your mother. Your brother. Yes, I believe in curses.

How could you stand it here all these years?

You didn't have to stay.

Silver.

I didn't know you hunted monsters.

Sometimes monsters hunt you.

Yes, he's been quite seriously injured, Inspector,

and he's suffering from a loss of memory.

I don't think he could be of any use to you now.

Well, I think, at some point, he is going to want to talk about...

- No. - I do understand.

Only if I could have just a few words with him.

- No. - A completely unofficial interview.

Even the briefest exchange could be infinitely helpful to me.

Francis Aberline, Scotland Yard.

Honored to meet you, Mr. Talbot. I'm a huge admirer.

I'm sorry to hear of your troubles.

I do hope they won't impede your return to the stage.

- Thank you. Shall we? - Please.

I understood your injury was quite savage.

Yes.

I hope you don't find this prurient, but would it be possible for me

to arrange for a specialist to examine you?

It's amazing what we can discern by scientific means these days.

And at your convenience, of course.

Of course.

No, a great mystery, it is,

given that there are no natural predators left in England

capable of inflicting such horrific injuries.

Well, the savagery of the attack would suggest the action of an animal.

Or a lunatic, perhaps.

Someone with a history of mental disturbance,

who'd spent time inside an asylum

and who may have suffered injuries at the hands of his victims.

I get your implication and resent it.

You're clearly aware of my personal history, as I believe I am aware of yours.

Weren't you in charge of the Ripper case a couple of years back?

Well, you're a direct man, so I'll be equally direct with you.

I'm not your enemy, Mr. Talbot.

But you've been seen as Hamlet, Macbeth, Richard III, all with that same face.

Now a prudent man would ask who else might be living inside that head of yours.

Good day, Inspector.

So you won't mind if I establish

your whereabouts on the nights in question?

Feel free.

Good day, Mr. Talbot.

I'll be sending my specialists to examine you at your convenience, of course.

Lawrence?

- Yeah. - You all right?

- Yes. - What did the Inspector say?

Well, he asked a lot of questions.

I'm sorry. I feel so responsible for what's happened to you.

If I hadn't sent that letter, you'd be back in New York.

No. No. It was right that I came back.

You mustn't feel like that.

No.

Try it.

Well, I can't make it skip like you.

You have to flick it.

- May I? - Yes.

When you throw it, turn your wrist up and whip it.

Wrist up and whip it.

And make sure you swing your hips.

What's it like in New York?

Did you hear that?

What?

Horses.

Hello, Doctor. I thought our appointment wasn't till Friday.

Come with us.

It's nearly the full moon.

You were bitten by the beast. You bear his mark now.

Mr. Talbot.

There are many of us here who are looking for a natural explanation.

- Help us. - Come on, Talbot. Show us your wound.

We are told it heals in an unnatural way.

Get your hands off of me.

Will you let him murder your wives and children?

My eyes! Damn you, Talbot!

Sorry, Colonel. I meant to shoot you.

Sadly, I'm not the marksman I used to be. I must be getting old.

He's cursed. God has forsaken him.

Let us deal with him.

You know you're trespassing on my land,

and I could shoot you on the spot right now.

My Sikh manservant, he's on the roof,

and he happens to be a crack shot with a repeating rifle.

And he will kill you.

He'll kill the next eight of you before he has to reload,

so please take yourself off my land.

And if I see any of you trespassing this way again,

I won't be so civil, if you take my meaning.

Good day to you, Colonel.

Lawrence.

You're bleeding.

How could they possibly think he's a threat to them?

Well, he's a stranger here in Blackmoor, Miss Conliffe,

and that makes him very dangerous.

Thank you.

Yes. You can also thank Singh when he returns from the village.

You're not the only one in the family who can act.

Samson!

Let's get something to clean that.

Did they hurt your shoulder?

No.

On the contrary, it feels much stronger than before.

That's good.

I was able to hold them... All three of them back.

You know, you mustn't listen to them. The villagers.

They're backward and foolish.

Everything I hate about this place.

This might sting a bit.

Lawrence.

Excuse me.

- What's happened? - You have to leave.

Please pack your things.

Did I do something?

It's not safe here.

You must return to London tonight.

I'll be out here waiting.

Lawrence, wait.

What are you afraid of?

If anything ever happened to you, I'd never forgive myself.

There are those who doubt the power of Satan.

The power of Satan to change men into beasts!

But the ancient pagans did not doubt.

Nor did the prophets. Did not Daniel warn Nebuchadnezzar?

But the proud king did not heed Daniel.

And so, as the Bible says, he was made as unto a wolf and cast out from men.

A beast has come among us.

But God will defend his faithful.

With his right hand, he will smite the foul demon.

I say to you, the enemy's ploy is a devious one.

Twisting the accursed into beasts, he seeks to bring us low.

Make us as animals.

Teach us self-loathing,

so we forget that we are made in the image of Almighty God himself!

Samson.

Why does our Lord tolerate this mockery?

Pride goeth before destruction,

a haughty spirit before the fall.

I say it is because we have sinned against him.

Because our crimes reek to heaven, and they demand vengeance.

Pint of bitter, please.

Mrs. Kirk.

Why aren't you out with MacQueen,

trying to catch that thing what killed my husband?

As I don't know where the lunatic will strike,

it seems the practical thing to do

is to stay as near as possible to the potential victims.

And seeing that 214 of the 309 residents of Blackmoor and its environs

live within, what, 500 yards of this tavern,

I was planning to spend the evening here.

Not Talbot Hall?

Why would you say that?

They're cursed, all of them.

Unfortunately, cursed does not give me a warrant

to wander about Sir John's estate at night.

Rules, Mrs. Kirk.

They're all that keep us from a dog-eat-dog world, you know.

Pint of bitter, please.

It is a shrine to your beloved mother.

She was truly a beautiful woman.

I know that losing her wounded you deeply.

And it is monstrous, a young boy seeing his mother like that.

And I would have given my life, Lawrence, that you hadn't found us that night.

You must believe me when I tell you this, Lawrence.

You do believe me, don't you?

I loved your mother with a passion like the burning of the sun.

Her death finished me. I was devastated.

I still prowl the house at night, searching for her.

I'm dead all the same.

Look into my eyes, Lawrence.

You see, I'm quite dead.

My dear fellow, I wish I could tell you

that the tragedy that has beset your life was over.

But I'm afraid the darkest hours of hell lie before you.

I don't think they'll kill you, Lawrence, but they will blame you.

The beast will have its day.

The beast will out.

We've got him, men! We got him!

Mind the pit, Johnny!

Johnny?

MacQueen!

Lawrence.

Lawrence.

Lawrence!

Wake up.

Lawrence.

Terrible things, Lawrence.

You've done terrible things.

Hold your fire! We want him alive!

Get down! On your knees!

Ah, it is as you said, Inspector. It is as you said.

I'm sorry, Sir John.

Be strong, Lawrence.

Be strong.

Where is my father?

I am sorry to see you back here with us, Lawrence.

You disappoint me.

But we have made enormous strides

in the treatment of delusions such as yours.

Where is my father?

Bracing, is it, guv'ner?

Where's my father?

Where's my father? Where is my father?

I said if you don't kill my father, he will kill again and again

and again and again.

Prithee, Horatio, tell me one thing.

Dost thou think Alexander looked o' this fashion i' the earth?

And smelt so? And smelt so?

I hope this won't impede your return to the stage.

Alas, poor Yorick!

Lawrence, wake up.

I heard something.

Terrible things, Lawrence.

Terrible things.

Father!

Look into my eyes, Lawrence. You see, I'm quite dead.

It's all right, Lawrence.

Everything's all right. I'm going to take you home.

Come with me.

It's all right. Come on.

It's all right.

Hold me.

Just hold me.

It's not real.

It's not real.

Lycanthropy.

Yeah, lycanthropy.

I contracted the disease, if that's what it is, in India in the Hindu Kush.

The natives directed me to a cave high up in the mountains,

where, according to legend, lived a strange creature.

A very strange creature.

And after a great many days of climbing and searching,

finally, I came upon it. I found it.

I found the cave, and the strange creature that lived there.

It was a little boy,

a little wild feral boy, powerfully strong,

who suddenly attacked me and bit me.

So I returned to my hunting companions in the valley below

thinking I'd been made the butt of a joke.

I soon discovered otherwise.

You killed my mother.

Yeah, I suppose I did.

You should kill yourself.

Oh, I cannot tell you how often I've considered that.

But life is far too glorious, Lawrence,

especially to the cursed and the damned like myself.

Yeah.

Every night of the full moon,

for many years, I've been locked away in that crypt

by Singh, my faithful servant.

Twenty-five years.

Then she came, didn't she? Hot and burning like the face of the moon.

Gwen?

Yeah, she would have taken your brother away from me,

and they would have both vanished into the night forever.

And although I was resigned to it, the beast in me was not.

And, Ben, you understand, had come to tell me

that he was quite resolute in his decision to leave Talbot Hall for good

and to take Gwen away from me.

I became drunk and violent, and extremely violent.

And I struck out at Singh, who was trying to restrain me,

and I knocked him out cold.

Poor... Poor old Singh.

Bam!

Yeah.

Anyway, as a consequence, I was unable to lock myself in the crypt that night.

And I found your brother's body in a ditch not far from the house.

He'd been torn to pieces.

I know now it was a mistake to lock up the beast.

Don't you think so, Lawrence?

I should have let it run free. Kill or be killed.

I'll kill you!

You have a long way to go yet, my young pup.

I'll kill you.

Oh, your chance is coming soon enough.

She'll be full tonight, the moon.

I have a small gift for you, Lawrence, in the event you don't find life

as glorious as I find it to be.

Or not to be.

I'm deeply sorry about this, Lawrence. I do love you, dear boy.

You may find that hard to believe, in the light of what has happened.

I'll kill you.

- Sleep now. - I'll kill you.

Rest.

- Guard? - I'll kill you!

I'll kill you!

I attempted to remove these mental fabrications,

but now, 25 years later,

I find that young Lawrence's harmless hallucinations

have manifested themselves into delusions of a horrific nature.

Mr. Talbot.

We are here tonight to illustrate conclusively

that Mr. Talbot's fears are quite irrational.

So we will remain in this room together,

and once Mr. Talbot has witnessed

that the full moon holds no sway over him,

that he remains a perfectly ordinary human being,

he will have taken his first small step

down the long road to mental recovery.

Now, we are all aware that Mr. Talbot

has suffered quite traumatic personal experiences.

He witnessed his mother's self-mutilations.

His young mind, unable to accept it, created a fantastical truth,

that his father is to blame.

That his father is literally

a monster.

But your father is not a werewolf.

You were not bitten by a werewolf.

You will not become a werewolf

any more than I will sprout wings and fly out of that window.

Please, please, help me.

I think that Mr. Talbot has something to say to us.

Stop it.

Speak up, Mr. Talbot.

Forgive me, but we can't hear you.

You moron.

Tonight, I will kill all of you!

I will kill all of you!

Yes, well, as you can see, lycanthropy...

- is a disease of the mind... - Please do something about it!

- Kill me. Kill me. - Existing somewhere in the deep recesses...

of Mr. Talbot's thoughts.

To him, it seems very real.

The subject before you has, for the past month,

undergone both pharmaceutical and physical desensitizing

in order to reduce the nervous exaggerations.

Dr. Hoenegger?

This malady derives from...

Doctor!

Doctor!

Let me pass!

For God's sake, hurry up!

- Open... Open this door! - It seems to be locked, sir.

Idiot! Open it!

Smash open this door!

Help me!

- Davis? - Yes, sir?

- Are you armed? - Yes, sir.

Give me your revolver! Quickly!

Pardon me.

Excuse me.

As you were.

- Carter! - Sir.

- Have you got a pistol? - Yes, sir.

Follow me.

- Telegraph the Yard. Issue weapons. - All right, sir.

- Now! - Right away, sir!

- I don't suppose we have any silver bullets. - What?

Clear the street!

Oh, my God!

You two, with me.

Steady.

God help us.

Up ahead!

Start checking the docks!

Who's there?

Lawrence?

What are you doing here?

What have they done to you?

I am what they say I am.

I'm a monster.

And so is my father.

He killed Ben.

And my mother too.

I can help you.

There's no help for me.

If such things exist,

if they are possible,

then everything is.

Magic.

And God.

I can find a way to stop it.

I must confess,

I envy my brother for the days he had with you.

What joy he must have felt.

I would have given anything I own

to have known you in another life.

I must get back to Talbot Hall and end this.

Lawrence.

Please let me help you.

You already have.

Lawrence, don't. Just stay here with me.

Stay here with me!

Miss Conliffe, good morning.

Inspector.

May I impose?

I must ask you directly, have you seen Lawrence Talbot?

I'm sure by now you've heard of his escape.

Yes, I've heard. And, no, I haven't seen him.

Miss Conliffe, I cannot stress to you enough the mortal peril you're in

should you find yourself in his presence.

Thank you. I'll be careful.

Miss Conliffe, I admire your noble intentions.

You think you can save him, but you can't. I must insist you come with me.

- Insist? He's not... - Carter!

He's not here, Inspector!

Take your hand off me.

- Come on! - Take your hand off me!

Come on now, woman!

Talbot?

Raise your arms and step out where I can see you.

Talbot?

- No! - Come now! Come along!

Now there's some bad luck for you.

I'm looking for a woman called Maleva. Do you know her?

Thank you.

What is it you want from me?

Lawrence Talbot.

You know what happened to him. You understand it. Listen to me.

I need you to help me.

Leave him to his fate.

I have to save him.

Do you love him?

Just tell me what to do.

Will you condemn him?

Or will you

set him free?

Do you know what that means?

Yes.

But I can't. I can't do that. He's still there.

I know he is. I know I can save him.

I'm begging you, tell me what to do.

There is no cure.

You are risking your life.

May the saints protect you and give you strength to do what you must.

Whoa, there!

You're sure he'll come?

Yeah, quite sure.

Right.

Take the priory road.

Railway station.

South garden to the river.

Tell Sir John we're here,

and then stay close to the estate, but not too close.

If you see Talbot,

don't get caught in a conversation.

Shoot him and kill him.

On sight!

Carter hasn't reported.

He's not at his post in front of the house.

Miss Conliffe?

Wait!

Get the others.

I will arise and go to my father,

and I will say unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven and before thee.

I am no more worthy to be called thy son.

And lo and behold, there he stands.

The prodigal son. For he is returned.

Shall I have my own robe brought to be placed upon your shoulders?

Rings for your fingers? Shoes for your feet?

What you should do is pray, but we both know it wouldn't do any good.

Are those Singh's silver bullets in my gun?

I'm sorry.

You have me at a disadvantage.

It makes me happy.

What does?

Seeing you here like this.

My son returned.

It is glorious, isn't it?

No. It's hell.

Hell?

No. The beast is the beast.

Let it run free.

Poor little Lawrence.

You were the fragile one.

I removed the powder from those shells many, many years ago.

But I confess,

I was quite overwhelmed by your enormous courage.

Finally, you're the man I always wanted you to be.

Lawrence! My boy.

Here.

Do you see her, Lawrence? Do you feel her presence? Her power?

She'll be here soon.

Coming from darkness into light.

You're heir to my kingdom, Lawrence.

You've always been heir to my kingdom.

Lawrence. Lawrence!

No!

Run! Run!

- Are you sure you're all right, sir? - Go on.

Look at me, Lawrence. You know me.

You know who I am.

Don't. You know who I am!

Lawrence! Don't.

Look at me.

Lawrence, you know me. You know me, remember me, look at me.

It's Gwen.

Lawrence, it's Gwen. Please.

No!

Gwen...

I'm sorry.

It had to be this way.

I'm sorry.

Thank you.

It is said there is no sin in killing a beast,

only in killing a man.

But where does one begin and the other end?