All language subtitles for The Collector - S03E02 - The Chef

You choose your fruit carefully.

You're a big fruit lover, huh?

I'm shopping for a friend.

Oh!

Well then, perhaps you'd like
to give her a nice firm banana?

What is your hesitation?

You're worried about being out of
wedlock, huh? I could marry you.

I'm a deity in the Hindu religion.

Do you have a name for me? Oh, yes.

And I'm delighted to say that he
too is a purveyor of fine foods.

A grocer? Oh, no. Not a lowly grocer.

A chef.

The finest chef in the world.

In fact, some people say his cooking
is so good, it's almost supernatural.

He's had an excellent run of good
luck, but nothing's free in this world.

And you will be the errand boy sent by
a grocery clerk to collect the bill.

What's his name?

Maxwell Gunn.

You asked to see me.

I'm here about your
deal. When does it start?

I'm going to lose everything, right?

How do you know that? Why else
would you be here two days early?

I'm not here to collect. I'm here
to offer you a chance at salvation.

Salvation?

I've been terrified,
waiting for the end to come.

I'll do anything.

Anything.

Actually, you're not my
first chef. A long time ago,

I collected from a man named Vatel.

The Vatel?

But that was... He died in 1671.

I never met anyone who
cared more about one thing

than Battelle cared about
making the perfect meal.

But wait, he committed suicide.

His last 48 hours started just as
the king arrived to eat his food.

Battelle kept trying to hold on to the
devil's gifts right to the very end.

Don't make his mistake.

There's one thing that
doesn't make sense to me, though.

Why here? I mean, why not Paris?

North America's the new frontier.

I knew no one could compare to me here.

The devil promised me secrets.

Recipes for delicacies that no
one has seen in 2,000 years.

Once news of my abilities began to spread,

people began to fly in from all
over the world just for a single meal.

My deal has brought
joy into people's lives.

We need to focus on who could
have been hurt by your deal.

Someone who got enough bad
luck to balance your good luck.

There isn't a chef in the world
that doesn't hate me for my success.

Is there someone in
particular in Vancouver?

There's one man, Reggie Brooks.

I never thought of it, but he's taken
a big fall in the last several years.

I don't even know where he is. Max,
Brad has a question about the venison.

Is everything okay?

Fine.

I'm Darla. And you are?

Morgan Pym.

What's your business with Max?

It's a private matter, but I'll call you.

Well, Max's private business is
my business, too. I'm his wife.

It's okay, honey. Morgan's an old
friend. We were just getting caught up.

Oh, well, if he's an old friend,

then he'll have to come to dinner
tonight so we can get to know each other.

We eat at 1 a.m. after
the restaurant closes.

Thanks, I don't eat after midnight.

Friends make exceptions.

I can't make it.

Look, Mr. Pym, my husband's been
looking over his shoulder for a year now,

and he won't tell me what he's afraid of.

If it's you, I will find out who
you are and what you're up to.

And in the meantime, I won't
let you get within a mile of Max.

Or you can come to dinner tonight,
and we can talk about old times.

Sure.

I'd love to.

Good.

And since this has nothing to do
with business, you'll bring a date?

Someone who knows you personally?

As soon as you can.

What was I supposed to do? Tell her
you're a messenger from the devil?

I'm gonna find out what I
can about Reggie Brooks.

See you at dinner.

Gabe, dinner's ready.

It's Chinese.

Wash your hands.

Actually, I was reading kids are
better off eating a little dirt.

It builds up their immune systems,

which makes me feel a lot
better about my housekeeping.

You haven't been invited to dinner for
centuries. Will you be dressing up? Get out.

I was only bringing you a
little something to take to dinner.

It's always good to bring a gift.

I'll skip the poison apples, thanks.

It's not poisoned.

It's my own special
variety, plucked, you might say,

from the tree of
knowledge you'd rather not have.

Care for a bite?

I have some work to do.

So, have you decided?

Decided what? Whether
the possibility of saving

one soul is worth endangering another.

Morgan?

You gonna bring your bike in?

Oh yeah, right.

So how's work?

It's okay.

I took tonight off to study.

For what?

My GED.

Just me, 500 high school
dropouts, and a number two pencil.

Oh, right.

So are you any good at algebra?

Want to show me some equations?

Mm-hmm.

I have some work to do.

But I got invited to a
dinner tonight by an old friend,

and I'm supposed to bring a date.

Why don't you lay back, buddy?

You think it's something you did at
school? I know you didn't touch your dinner.

I was only in Paris once, a
family trip when I was 14.

Traveling didn't really
bring out the best in us,

but we sort of kept it together until
I met a French guy in the hotel lobby.

He was only 16, but he
was smoking a Goulasse,

and I thought he was so sophisticated.

I was only gone for a few hours,
but my dad had a total meltdown.

So what were we eating? It was delicious.

Thank you. It's not very
fancy. It's fried trout.

We had turtle soup and
cream chicken for starters.

Does that mean the entree is
going to be roast pheasant?

I told you we knew his history.

What history?

This was the menu for the last
meal Vatel cooked for Louis XIV.

So, how long have you two been together?

Oh, I'm surprised Morgan
didn't fill you in. After all,

he and Max have known
each other, what is it?

Ten years.

But we've been out of touch.

Morgan never tells me anything.

Well, I started working for Max
about five years ago as a sous chef.

We fell in love on the job and
got married a couple years later.

How long have you two been together?

I'm not sure I could
put an exact date on it.

Did you meet at your restaurant?

No.

Morgan got me the job there, though.

We actually met.

She saved my life.

I was lost, and she
made me feel human again.

Oh, cool.

Looks delicious.

You did yourself again,
darling. This looks fantastic.

Thank you.

Please, bon appetit.

Look, I'm sorry about tonight.

It's not your fault your
friend's out of his freaking mind.

Or was he really a friend?

I figured he might be one
of your hobbies, you know?

Like the ones you seem
to pick up all the time.

Like you picked me up.

Don't worry about it. It was
nice to spend the evening with you.

Even if I was just providing social cover.

Good night.

Wow.

This is nice.

I know, it's a work in progress,

but change the inside and you'll change
the outside. That's what my sponsor says.

Maybe it's the other way around. God,
I'd like a drink right now, you know?

When you come home after a weird night,

you just want to relax
with a friend or whatever.

Then again, there are other ways to relax.

Such as?

Such as a warm bath.

Maybe you care to join me?

I, uh... I have to get up early tomorrow.

I'll be there as soon as I can. No,
it's not Gabe again. Okay, yes it is,

but what do I do? He's sick.

Come on, Gabe. It's just a little
of it. What do you want me to do?

Lock him in the closet while I'm gone?

He's a kid.

No, I know it's not your
fault. Look, how about I bring

him in with me? He's
quiet, he's really neat.

He'd probably just line up
everything on the shelves.

But you let Sally bring her
daughter in on the weekend.

Why should I...

You say that?

How can you say that about him? Fine.

I'll solve this right now.

I quit.

Okay.

Now if I can give up
eating too, we'll be fine.

It was fresh when we
put it away last night.

Everything was fresh.

Yeah? Then how did all this
fresh food rot overnight?

Well, obviously it didn't.

Someone must have brought it in.

Someone broke into your restaurant,
stole nothing, but left bad food.

Look, it's obvious we're being framed.

Anyone can see that.
Why else would you just

happen to show up on
this particular morning?

Because we had three reports
of suspected food poisoning

from people who ate in
your restaurant last night.

I have to go for a while.

What? Max, you can't leave now.
They're trying to shut us down.

I'm not trying. I'm doing it.

I'm sorry, but I have to go.

Max, for God's sakes,
tell me what's going on.

I can't.

Reggie?

Sorry, closed.

What are you doing here? You're one
of the best chefs in North America.

Yeah.

Best dog in town, fresh
horse meat with a ketchup

mustard glaze and a relish reduction.

Just get the hell out of
my way. Look, Mr. Brooks,

we've worked very hard to find you.

We want to help you if you'll let
us. Yeah? And who the hell are you?

I know you're not a sous chef.

You're not pretty enough.

I'm an advisor.

Please, Reggie, I need you to tell me,
how did you get here? You should know.

My place went out of
business because of you.

I had all the high-end
customers as regulars,

but they said my food just
didn't compare to yours.

So after that, I worked for
some other people, but I...

I had some accidents.

Maybe it was the antidepressants. Maybe
it was the booze I was mixing them with.

After a while, I
couldn't even get arrested.

Or actually, I could a couple of times.

So I didn't have a lot of career options.

I know this cart is crap, I know I'm
crazy, but at least I'm cooking, you know?

What am I supposed to do?
You have to make him an offer.

Like what, money?

No, it's too easy.

You have to help Reggie
get back what he's lost.

You have to help him become a chef again.

How the hell am I supposed to do
that in the time I've got left?

I can't offer him a job at my
restaurant. The devil just shut it down.

You know other restaurateurs? Other chefs?

Look, it doesn't work like that.

No one that owns a fine
restaurant is going to

hire a derelict just because I ask him to.

Well, there must be something
you can do. How do you know?

Because.

It's the only rule the devil can't break.

Amends are always possible.

The devil makes his own rules. I
think you would have learned that by now.

If there's anything that
we can do to help, call me.

I don't know why I did
it. It was an okay job,

and I actually had it
for three weeks. That's

a record for me. You'll find another job.

Do I complain a lot?

Compared to who?

Well, you, for instance.
You're always so upbeat.

Come on, you gotta have something
you want to complain about. Pass.

How about Morgan?

What about him?

Well, you're in love with him, right?

Who told you that?

The death laser that you aimed at
me when you thought we were dating?

So how's that going?

It isn't.

Why?

Is he gay or something?

I think I can safely say he's
into women. So what's the problem?

I don't know.

Sometimes he wants me so bad I can
feel it coming off him like heat.

And then he'll turn
around and just walk away.

I know it isn't going anywhere,

and that I should blow him off
and find someone else, but I don't.

I just keep trying and trying,

because there's this voice in my head
that tells me that we're meant for each other,

and I don't even believe in
soulmates or destiny or whatever.

And every time I put my heart
out there and he steps on it,

I just feel like
sticking a needle in my arm,

just stepping off the edge and
calling, quit now that I'm straight.

I can't even do that.

Some good complaining.

My boss called him a freak.

That's why I quit.

I think about it, and
yeah, it makes sense.

And the only reason I have
any meaning in my life is him.

I'm the freak.

Fiddling my apples door to door is
proving an excellent way to get new clients.

As I showed Mrs. Highbush
the awful truth about herself,

it made her much more open to
self-improvement. Stay out of my building.

It's a little late to
get territorial, dear boy.

I'm afraid the sanctity of your
homestead has already been violated.

They're lowering us to one star.

Do you know what it means for any
chef to lose his Michelin rating?

Bernard Loisac committed suicide over it.

Max is the only rated chef in North
America. How do you think it makes him feel?

Why are you here, darling?

I want to know who you are.

I want to know why
someone powerful enough,

rich enough to control the health
department, to control Michelin,

would live in this outhouse.

What makes you think I have
anything to do with this?

It started when you came.

What do you have against Max?
Why are you destroying him?

I'm not doing it.

You don't think I'm
capable of pulling this trigger?

You are wrong. I have done it before.

I will do it again,
anything, to save my Max.

Max has to save himself.

Shooting me will only
make his situation worse.

He's never kept a secret from me.

I want to know what's going on.

She shot at you?

She thinks she missed,
but she meant to kill me.

She seemed to be saying that she's
killed before. No, that's impossible. Well,

maybe it would have been impossible
without your deal. You think this is my fault?

Reggie Brooks lost his career, but
apparently your wife has lost her mind.

Or at least her conscience.

I'm betting that's the
bad luck from the deal.

Do you know where she is?

No, I haven't seen her all day.

How did you meet her?

I was visiting the Culinary Institute
here. She was a student, a brilliant one.

Said she wanted to be
my sous chef one day.

But she already had a
sous chef, Marie LaChapelle.

I did some research.
LaChapelle died about five years ago.

I couldn't have been.

The police said it was a gang shooting
outside of a club. Wrong place, wrong time.

I think it was Darla. No.

The devil can influence people to
make choices if they're vulnerable.

She obviously idolizes you. He
played on that. It wasn't her fault.

What can I do?

Find her.

Then we can talk about amends.

I just wanted to be close to you.

Yeah. I want to talk to
you about last night.

Some other time.

Look.

I'm sorry.

I shouldn't have taken you to that dinner.

I don't care about the dinner.

God, I have spent a lot of time
thinking about what a bastard you are,

but if you knew the things I'd done,
you wouldn't be knocking on my door.

You hate me.

Nothing you can do could make me hate you.

I don't know if I ever told you,

but I used to get strung out first thing
in the morning when I was on the streets.

It didn't affect me like it did my
friends. It put me in this kind of dream world.

I mean, I could tell
what was really happening,

but at the same time,
I was somewhere else.

Let me do what I
needed to do to stay alive,

and later I'd forget about
what I let people do to me.

But today, I remembered something.

I was with that guy I told you about,
Lucas Milford, the one that got me hooked.

One day, we didn't have any money to
buy, you know, so the dealer, big surprise,

wouldn't give it to us on credit.

So Lucas jumped him.

He stomped him.

His head. There was blood
everywhere. And I just let him do it.

We left him there in the
streets. He was dying.

But I didn't call 911.

Didn't tell anybody.

I shot up and forgot.

What kind of person could do that?

Come on, Gabe.

You love this stuff. There's
enough fat and cholesterol

on this table to kill an elephant.

Gabe, you haven't eaten anything in
a whole day. You're gonna get sick.

Then you're gonna faint during P.E., and
your principal's gonna give me detention.

Enough already.

It's not poison, see?

Mmm, mmm.

Yeah, tastes good.

Gabe, you can't do this.

Things are screwed up enough as it is.

We gotta keep the basics together.
We gotta sleep, we gotta get dressed.

And we gotta eat. Now, eat something.

Gabe. Gabe, please.

Care for some crudités?

Try the carrots. Very good for the eyes.

I don't know why you're
bothering with all this research.

I don't think your
client wants to talk to you.

He'll call.

Surely, it must have occurred to you
that he may be willing to go to hell

rather than risk exposing his
beloved wife to a police investigation.

Is that what you're planning?
You're going to expose her murder?

By Jove, no, not a bit of it. Unlike
you, I'm very considerate of women.

Yeah, that's why I gave
Maya the black apple.

I didn't give it to her. She
paid 35 cents a pound on special.

And dredging up the past is part of
that 12-step mumbo-jumbo she's up to.

I'm just pitching in.

You're rigging the game.

Punishing her by trying to distract
me from saving my clients. You see?

This is exactly your problem.

You've lost all sense of
perspectives on these mortals.

Maya leaves a man to die in an alley,
and you blame me for bringing it up.

Some people are just evil, you know?

Doing evil things
doesn't make a person evil.

You'd like to believe that, wouldn't you?

Yeah.

Morgan Pym, Reggie Brooks.

Mr. Brooks, what can I do for you?

You can tell me the real reason
you and Maxwell Gunn came to see me.

I told you, Maxwell wants to
help you. Oh, that's a lie.

Everything about this guy
is a lie. Like he tells

everybody he's from here, but he's not.

I don't know what you mean.

Every article about him talks
about how he was born and raised here.

The media just bought into his lies.

I didn't start thinking about
it until he came to see me,

but I've always known it
was just a load of BS.

So where did he come from?

Where else do chefs
like him come from? Paris.

And how long ago was this?

I don't know, years. I was still on
top then. Maybe nine, ten years ago.

What else do you know about him?

Oh yeah, I bet you'd
like to know, wouldn't you?

Exactly what kind of an advisor are
you? Is this some kind of mob thing?

I told you, I'm just trying to
help. Yeah, well, you know what?

I'm going to help myself.

Maxwell Gunn drove me out of business,

and now I am going to expose that
prick for the fraud he is. Mr. Brooklyn.

Hello.

You don't have much time left, Mr. Gunn.

We'd have a better shot at saving your
soul if you'd start telling me the truth.

I already know you moved here at the
start of your deal and the devil covered it up.

What else should I know? Yes,
it's best if you know the truth.

I'm at the restaurant.

Darling, I love.

No problem is so big that it can't be
solved with a good glass of champagne.

Anchovies Savina.

That's the appetizer Vitello was
planning to serve the day he died.

I was a good chef, you
know, before I made my deal.

Not a great chef, but a
good one. Where's Darla?

She killed someone to work with me.

When she confessed, you
know what she was ashamed of?

She was ashamed that she couldn't cook as
well as me, even when she used my recipes.

She was ashamed she'd let me
down. We still have some time.

We can save her, and you too. How?

I turned my wife into a
murderer. How do I make up for that?

Let's talk to her.

We'll figure something out.

Where is she, Max?

Tarla isn't my first wife, you know?

I had another.

Colette.

I met her in cooking school.

She was a pastry chef. So talented.

How could we create
paintings to the smallest

detail out of the most delicate frosting?

I loved her so much.

But I wanted to be a great
chef more than anything.

So I made my meal.

My first deal.

Your first?

No one remembers now.

The devil covered it all up.

But I was the greatest chef in Paris.

I cooked for kings. No
one could even touch me.

Till the last two days.

It all started to come apart.

It was horrible.

The terror of knowing the end was coming.

I prayed to God, and he
didn't answer. I said I'd

do anything to save my
soul, anything he asked.

But in the end, it wasn't
God that made me an offer.

The devil offered to renew your deal.

At what price?

He said I had to kill Colette.

And I did.

I did.

Where is Darla, Max?

You said you wanted to know the truth.

Max?

Max, what the hell are you doing?

Max, open the door.

The truth is, the truth is he offered
to renew again a few hours ago. No.

He can't do this, Max. Come on.

I'm sorry.

He said that you did the same thing.

That you sacrificed the woman that you
love to stay out of hell. I didn't kill her.

He did.

Judge me if you want.

But it's what I have to do.

You can't win, Mac.

If you kill Darla today, you'll
still go to hell. I'm your only chance.

There is no chance.

Not for me.

Max?

Max? Max!

Max, open the door!

Whoa!

It's colder than January in Delhi in here.

Another hour, and you'll
be a collector sickle.

There have to be rules.

Rules are for children's games.

This is impossible.

You can't just condemn
innocent people to death.

Well, Darla's hardly innocent.

She killed that poor sous-chef in
the prime of her sauce-making ability.

So I thought it only fair to make
cooking her a condition of Maxwell's new deal.

I actually got the idea
from your Christian deity.

Body of Christ, body of
Christ, body of Christ.

Personally, I always thought
transubstantiation smacked of cannibalism.

So how long does he
plan to have me locked up?

Another 30 years. What?

Well, he's rather fond of Darla. I had to
sweeten the deal with a triple renewal.

Of course, he'll have to offer me
another sacrifice every 10 years.

I had the same
arrangement with the Phoenicians.

Well, actually, he made me
promise that I'd keep anyone

from stumbling over you
as long as he's alive.

It drives a very hard bargain.

Wouldn't it be easier for you?

A 30-year vacation from all your regrets?

All those thoughts of Katrina
that plague you every night?

Sorry, no pun intended.

Because I have nothing else.

I promised no one would
find you by accident.

I didn't promise to keep away
people who know you're here.

Morgan, we have to talk to the
police. He tried to kill you.

Look, I can't explain it.

Thank you for saving my life again.

When I, uh...

When I killed Colette, I had to
boil her head to get the flash off.

One of her eyes floated to the surface
like she was looking at me, pleading with me.

But it was too late.

Too late. I said to myself that it
was okay, because she was innocent.

Because she was going to go to heaven.

I've been thinking,
what if that wasn't right?

What if she had secrets like darling?

Goodbye, my love.

Thanks.

Grape?