All language subtitles for 17 The Modern Prometheus

Step by step

Old enough to realize

That there's no

Destiny

No, there's no

Destiny

No, there's no

Byron! Byron! Byron! Byron!

Did you get my tape?

I'm Jerry!
Jerry Jeremy!

"In the confusion,
Love a man, not an illusion"

"I could never be
all that you dream."

You listened to it.

Come on, Jerry.
Let's go for a ride.

This is for real!

As real as it gets.

And when it's up, you die

And when it's up, you die

And when it's up, you die
And when it's up, you die

And when it's up, you die

Come on, Jerry!

Spit out the fear
and taste the glory!

Just one more step.

Help!

Feel it, Jerry!
Revel in it!

This is to be mortal
and to seek the things
beyond mortality!

The world is watching,
Jerry.

Can you fly?

Sure.

Can we talk
about the music?

Are you ready?

First we jump--
then we lay down some tracks.
You and me, Damon and Pythias.

Batman and Robin.

All you need to do
is soar, Jerry,
like an eagle.

If you're not living,
you're dying, Jerry!

Jerry! Jerry! Jerry!
I'm cool.

Good.

Jerry! Jerry! Jerry! Jerry!

- Batman and Robin.
- No guts, no glory.

Geronimo!

That...

was a very good try.

He is Duncan MacLeod,

the Highlander.

Born in 1592,
in the Highlands of Scotland,

and he is still alive.

He is immortal.

For 400 years,
he's been a warrior,

a lover,

a wanderer,

constantly facing
other Immortals
in combat to the death.

The winner
takes his enemy's head...

and with it, his power.

I am a Watcher,

part of a secret society
of men and women...

who observe and record,
but never interfere.

We know the truth
about Immortals.

In the end,
there can be only one.

May it be Duncan MacLeod,
the Highlander.

Here we are

Born to be kings

We're the princes
of the universe

I am immortal

I have inside me
blood of kings

I have no rival

No man can be my equal

Take me to the future
of your world

We're late, you guys.

This kid's great.
We picked him up
in London.

Came to every show,
every night.

Well, well.
Look who's here.

Good to see you, man.
All right.

- Byron?
-TheByron?

Hey, Doc.
Hey.

- It's been a long time.
- You've become
kind of famous again.

Yeah, I, uh, just
can't seem to shake it.

Uh, Duncan MacLeod,
Joe Dawson.

Any friend of Doc's.

-That kid's not bad.
Who is he?
-That's Mike.

He's from London.

- You were great, Mike.
- It's a rush.

It was beautiful, man.
Thanks, Joe.

Great chops, kid.

I'm sorry.
Hold on a minute.

You're who I think you are,
aren't you?

I've got every CD.
Imports, everything.

Man, I've been
a fan of yours
forever.

You mean to tell me
you knew him all this time
and you never told me?

Yeah, "Doc."

It seems the good doctor
grows weary
of our entertainments.

As spectator, surely.
As participant, never.

Dr. Adams,
your effrontery
shocks me.

You aren't shocked,
are you?

You would be
if you saw him at his labors,
cutting up corpses,

up to his elbows
in rotting flesh
and maggoty entrails.

There are
some questions about life
that only the dead can answer.

Only the dead
and poets.

Well, then I shall
have my answers
when the Shelleys arrive.

Or rather,
Percy Shelley...

and that woman Mary
he calls wife...

that he seems
so interested
in seducing.

Oh, look, Byron!
What do we have
here?

Byron, sit down.

This band which,
bound by yellow hair,
is thine, sweet girl,

thy pledge of love.

It claims my warmest,
dearest care,

like relics
left of saints above.

Oh, I caught it!

Oh, I don't know--

I'll cherish it
forever.

You know him?

Hans Kershner.
He thinks I slept
with his wife.

Did you?

Of course.
Hold on.

- Haah!
-Hyah! Hold it there,
you scoundrel!

Hyah! Come on!

You can't get away!
You can't escape!

Come on!
Go on!

Hyah!
Giddap!

Next time,
send your wife!

Am I as dangerous
as my reputation, Doctor?

You are mad, sir.
Are you trying
to get us killed?

You speak of death,
yet note how quickly
your heart beats.

You seem more alive
than ever, sir!

"So to the last,

"and in the verge
of our decay,

"some phantom lures
such as we sought at first,

"but all too late,
so are we doubly cursed.

"Love, fame,
ambition, avarice,
'tis the same.

"Each idle and all ill
and none the worst,

"for all are meteors
with a different name,

"and death
the sable smoke...

who vanishes
in the flame."

Bravo!

It's all drivel!

My God,
I bore even myself!

I thought it was wonderful,
Lord Byron. You are
too critical of your poetry.

And for the evening's
entertainment.

It'll take more
than Morpheus' smoke to
quiet me today, Shelley.

I trust you had a pleasant
journey this afternoon, sir.

Only if one enjoys dancing
near the halls of death,
Mrs. Shelley.

I love to dance.

What have you to quiet
a troubled soul, Doctor?

The mind has been wounded
in life's battles.

You cannot wound
a spirit.

How ridiculous, Lord Byron.
Shall we test your theory,
my little nymph?

Shall I kill you
here and now?

- Lord Byron, no.
- I think you've
taken this jest far enough.

Shall I watch your spirit
rise up before me
and pluck it from the air?

I only--

Shelley,
the laudanum.

Next time
preserve your ignorance
for one more deserving than I.

Is there no relief
to this eternal boredom?

We need
better diversions.

What exactly
did you have in mind?

New stories.

I say we call forth
the armies of the night...

and do them battle,
soul to soul,

till they, or we, cry,
"Hold, enough"...

and give over the field.

Sounds thrilling.

Sounds morbid.

Stories of horror...

to bring forth
our own ghosts...

from deep within us,

from those dead humors
rattling around
the midnight of our souls.

Yes, but who
shall be first...

to amuse
and frighten us
tonight?

The quiet Mrs. Shelley,
perhaps?

You mock me, sir,

yet I have felt
death.

I've held it
to my arms.

I hope never to
feel the like again.

Yes, but feel it you did.

In tasting grief,
in tasting fear,

is that not the time
we truly live?

And so, fair muse,

what ghosts have you
to share tonight?

I am-- I am afraid
my imagination fails me
at present.

Ah, but look,
dear lady.

Your neighbor greedily gulps
the nectar of creativity itself.

Drink the laudanum,
my love.

Drink.

To stimulate your imagination,
my dear.

-What melodrama is this?
-Your wife has had enough, sir.

Take care of her,
good Doctor.

Into your hands
I commend her spirit.

Clara?

My baby Clara.

I dreamt
she came back to life.

She had a beak for a mouth.
And I was in the forest.

There was a man--
a monster, a beast.
I couldn't tell what it was.

Sometimes--

Sometimes I w-- I wonder
who's the more unhappy,

those who die, or--

or those who live.

Perhaps, dear Mary,

death is not truly
journey's end,

but just another
turn in the road.

If we believe that,

we can live
without fear.

Bravo.

Bravo.

Be still!

Still.

So still.

Almost like...

death.

Yet look, she stirs.

Is she not...
beautiful?

That she is.
Now let her rest.

Ah, but does she
want to rest?

I say we take her...

and push the bounds
of our passion
to heaven itself.

And I say we leave
before we push
the bounds of decency.

Decency means nothing.

All that matters
is this moment--

the three of us
here in this room.

Look at her.

Feel the hunger.

What is the point of living
if we don't taste
what life has to offer us?

Come on!

Enough.

I said, enough!

How dare you!

This is my home, my life.
I will do with it as I choose.

Unless, of course,
you choose to stop me.

Put it away and let her be.
I would rather have your poetry
than your head.

Very well.

As a favor to you.

Man,
that was amazing.

It's like Jimi Hendrix
was in my head,
and I was just playing along.

You wanna open for us
tomorrow night?
Maurice says it's okay.

Of course, man.
I'll do whatever it takes.
You already did.

So come by in the morning.
We'll run a couple of tunes--

Hey, Mike,
you wanna come jam?

Serious?
I'm only asking once.

Yeah, sure.
I'll see you
in the morning.

I'll be there, man.
I can't believe
this is happening to me.

Take it easy.
Don't get crazy.
Now or never, Mikey!

Okay. Yeah, uh--
I gotta go.

He's an arrogant
son of a bitch.

A lot of geniuses are.

He's connected.
He could make that kid's career
with one phone call.

Yeah.
He's in the big time now.

How do you feel?

I'm too scared to think.
Of course you are!

You're scared to death!

Suck it in, man!
Savor the fear!

Jump!

You can do this.

Look deep.
Let it fly.

That's it!

Life, death, fear!

Hang on, Mike!

Now you're alive.

Now we play.

Bravo.

- You're the man.
-Come play with me, Mikey.

- You really think so?
- I said so, didn't I?

Didn't I say so?

Oh, yeah.

So, uh, you're gonna
run by the studio tomorrow
and lay down a few tracks,

meet some people?

You know it, man.

Nightcap, anyone?

No, I'm okay.

I gotta get goin'.

That's cool.
-Mikey!

So, what time tomorrow?

Actually,
tomorrow's a little busy.

So maybe I'll get my manager
to send by a couple tickets
for tomorrow night's show.

Oh, Mikey,
stay and play.

Please?
Can't you play
with me?

You don't know
what you're missing.

Come on, baby.

What's the story?

You're the man.

Hey.
You're late, brother.

Sorry.

You know,
you don't wanna do this,
we don't have to.

No, no, I'm ready.
Take a look.

Come on, tune it up.

Okay?

-You with us?
- Yeah.

All right.
Let's give it a whirl.

Two,
one, two, three.

- What?

Why don't you
get a little sleep?
We'll try this later.

Tough night?

No-- Uh, uh, yeah.

Yeah, it was hot.
Byron thought I was great.
I was flyin'.

It looks like you still are.

Hey, uh, he give you
a little something
to help you fly?

What are you trying to say?

Look, maybe this is
none of my business--

We're talking
about Byron here.

You should be happy for me,
not bitchin' at me. All right?

I'm out of here.

Take five, guys.

Boy, oh, boy,
I sure screwed that up.

Somebody did.

I'm gonna talk
to Byron.

Wait.
I'll go with you.

Worried about
the kid, huh?
Yeah.

He's in a tough spot.

To make great music...

you have to
experience life.

The good and the bad, huh?
Hallelujah.

Sometimes the man
is not as strong
as the music.

Life, my friend,
is in the details.

I like almonds.
Not cashews, almonds.

Shelled, roasted,
unsalted.

And fed to me by women--
tall, beautiful women
with long, black hair.

I know you want
to make me happy.

Afternoon, boys.

Still lacerating the help,
I see.
It's good being the star.

You and Mike had
quite a session last night.

Yeah.
Kid's got a good shot.

That's why we're here.

Gotta rev the engine,
or you're just idling.

Don't understand
how you guys
can live without it.

Just fine, thanks.
So did Mike,
until last night.

Oh, that's better.

Immortality gets
pretty damned dull...

after the first
couple of centuries,
doesn't it?

What's the secret, Doc?

What do you do when there's
nothing left but the dark,
cold emptiness...

that stretches out
for centuries
behind you...

and when you look in the mirror
all that you see...

is the abomination
that you are?

The sun will set...

and oppose the enemy.

Shall we?

I confess,

I'm afraid to go in.

It's just his way
of being entertaining.

They're only
ghost stories.

Told by
master wordsmiths.

Lord Byron's words
will live forever.

What have I to offer
in such company?

Your heart.

Your dreams.

Your nightmares.

Is that where you found
your story?

Pray, tell me.

Not now.

Come.

Let us show Byron and Shelley
that they do not have the only
creative minds of the day.

We'd almost despaired
of your company.

Hark, Percy.

The good doctor
is in love
with your Mary.

What do you say
to that?

I say run,
and fleet be thy feet.

Fly from love,

that horned beast
that impales all men.

It seems
my destiny awaits.

With your permission,
my friends,
I take my leave.

Jealous husband?
Uh-huh.

Hans, my good friend.

Come in, man,
and warm thy sodden self
by my fire.

That is for my wife.

This is for me.
Defend yourself.

Alas, my good man,
I am but a poet,
not a warrior.

What you are
is a cuckolding cripple.

You are not
ready for this.
Give way.

Try me,
and you shall see
a poet's mettle.

Think, man,
who you would kill.

Would you be
Lord Byron's murderer?

You shall be
Lord Byron's
first conquest.

Well, then, try me, boy.

Come on.

He lives!
Yet-- Yet I thought--

It was a trick
of the storm.

I'm not Claire.
Do not speak to me like a fool.

I've seen him die
and live again,

while my daughter Clara
lies buried in her grave.

How can he live
while my flesh and blood
turns to dust?

Explain.
There is no explanation.

He is not governed by
the rules of mortal flesh.
He is of a different kind.

How do you know this?

How can you know it?

Because I am like him--

immortal.

I beseech you.
Tell no one.

We must live in secret.

Or you would be hunted.

For the perversion of nature
that we are.

Poor, tormented creature.

The sad hero
of a never-ending story,

resurrected by lightning
to eternal life...

and eternal loneliness.

An interesting bit
of entertainment this was,
I'll wager.

Come.

There's a fire inside
and stories to tell...
if you have one.

I do.

Mine will be about
the anguish of immortality.

What will you call
your story, Mary Shelley?

Frankenstein--

the Modern Prometheus.

A man born of fire.

"Light, feeling and sense
will pass away,

and in this condition
must I find my happiness."

Frankenstein, gentlemen.

Mary Shelley's
greatest work.

The point is that we are all
Frankenstein's monster,

doomed to walk
the frozen tundra
for eternity.

Or the streets of Paris,
as the case may be.

But at least this gives us
the illusion of life.

If you think that's
what life is all about,
then you're already dead.

- So speaks the hero.
- You listen to me.

This is no illusion,
no poetic fantasy.

This is real,
and it's a warning.

Leave the kid alone.

Your friend's a mess.

He's a genius.

He's pathetic.
It's very easy
to think that way.

Did you ever
starve to death,
MacLeod?

Byron feels hunger like that
every day.

Twenty thousand people
screaming his name,

it's not enough to fill
the hole inside him.

He always wants more.
He alwaysneedsmore.

- You should try it sometime.
- Yeah, well, I know
what it's like to be empty.

It's no excuse.

"She walks in beauty, like
the night of cloudless climes
and starry skies."

"And all that's best
of dark and bright meet
in the aspect of her eyes."

Yes, I know the poem.

How do you think like that,
how do you write like that...

and not be a little...
larger than life?

Charlie Parker,
van Gogh, Mozart--
messed-up guys.

Yeah, da Vinci, Bach--
normal guys.

And still great artists.

Yeah, and Byron
is also a great artist.

He's given the world
great poetry.

But at what price?

Come on, old man!

Come and get me!

Are you still there?

Missed me!

That's the difference
between you and me, kid.

I embrace life,
and you run from it!

Daddy doesn't want you
playing in my sandbox!

I didn't tell them to come.
I swear.

Details, kid!

They just don't get it.
Well, of course
they don't get it!

They never will,
because they're dead
and they don't even know it.

The world
is full of small men
with small dreams.

What do you want,
Mike?

Are you ready
to grab onto life
with both hands...

and squeeze it till
it screams for mercy?

I'm ready.

I don't think so.

You wanna play
in the big time,
you gotta be a big boy.

Go home, kid.

I said go home!

Come on!

What are you waiting for?

- Hey. Thanks
for nothing, guys.
- What's the problem?

Did I ask you
to mind my business?
Stay out of my life.

If he wants to play
in little clubs like this
the rest of his life, fine.

- I'm not. All right?
- Hey, Mike!

Mike! You think Byron
gives a damn about you?

You think he cares
whether you live or die?
He's my shot.

Yeah, maybe.

Hey, Mike.
You're still opening for us
in a couple of hours.

All right?

Keep your mouth shut

I'm hooked

I'm hooked

I can't turn you off

So...

Mummy say you could
come out and play?

I don't need
anybody's permission.

By George,
I think he's got it.

Let's celebrate.

Name your poison.

Now, Mike,

I hope you're not going
to let me down again.

Mike never show up?

No.

I should have figured.

I mean, who would choose
my life over Byron's?

You would.

Yeah, but he wouldn't
be in this spot
if it wasn't for me.

Don't hold yourself
responsible for him.
Hey, you would.

I'll see you later.

Damn him.

Damn him!

Byron! Byron! Byron!

Hey, Doc.

It's gonna be
a killer show tonight.

I'm not here for the show.

Well, the party
doesn't start till later,
but, hey, make yourself at home.

Leave town.
Say what?

MacLeod's
gonna be coming here.

I'm telling you
as an old friend...

that it would be a good time
to go on tour...
in another country.

And disappoint my fans?

I told you.
I've got a show to do.

Used to be
more than a show.

There was a time
when you were reaching
for the heavens.

There is no heaven.
It's just an illusion
for fools and innocents.

I have no hope,
no dreams,

no poetry left.

All I feel
is this raging hunger.

And all I hear
is my own voice
screaming my failure.

You know what I've become.

Yes, I know.

But you know
who you are, Doc?

You're the guy in the audience,
and I'm the guy
on the flying trapeze.

Who do you think's
having more fun?

Who do you think's
gonna live longest?
Who cares?

I do.

Do you want a tombstone
that says,
"He lived for centuries,"

or do you want one that says,
"For centuries he was alive"?

You're not listening to me.
I don't want a tombstone.

You hear that?

They're playing my song.

Paladino's dead.
I know.

Byron didn't force him
to do anything.

That's a lot of crap.
Mike's dead
because of Byron.

No, Mike is dead
because of Mike.
- Move it, buddy!

Comin' through, bud.

The kid idolized him.

Maybe he didn't
pull the trigger,

but he sure
put the gun in his hand.

"To live like me,
you have to be like me"?
Mike couldn't do that.

He wasn't immortal.
Which is not
Byron's fault.

Mac.
Mac, wait!

Think-- Think--
Think about the poetry.

Think about the music
that he's made,
that he will still make.

You gonna kill all that
as well?

And what about Mike?

What music
could he have made?

Want me
to take care of him?

Leave me.
Go on.

All right,
let's get outta here.
Give him some room.

Come on.

Let me guess.

You want an autograph.

You hear that?

They love me.

Doesn't help, though,
does it?

Tell me, is there
anything you despise
more than yourself?

Byron! Byron! Byron! Byron!

Well, guess you won't
be needing this.

Makes us even.

No.

Now we're even.

"Foil'd, bleeding,
breathless,

"furious to the last,

"full in the center
stands the bull at bay!

Byron! Byron!
Byron! Byron! Byron!

"Mid wounds,
and clinging darts,
and lances brast,

"and foes disabled
in the brutal fray.

"And now the matadors
around him play,

"shake the red cloak
and poise the ready brand.

"Once more through all
he burst his thundering way--

Vain rage!"

"The mantle quits
the conynge hand,

"wraps his fierce eye--
'tis past--

he sinks
upon the sand."

You're the one that was

You're the one that is

You're the one
that always

Will be

No one mortal is able

To lift your veil

I can see your light
in the distance

I can see you shine
in the distance

Isis, mighty mother

I can feel your presence

I know you're with me

I know you're with me

I know, I know, I know, I kno
I know, I know, I know

You're with me

Dead, but undead I'll be

Osiris is my name

And our love

And our love

I can see the light
in the distance

And our love
I can see you shine
in the distance

And our love

And our love

Conquers all

I can see your light
in the distance

I can see you shine
in the distance

I can see your light
in the distance

I can see you shine
in the distance

Matter and antimatter.

Byron knew that too.

His life had become
one long tragedy.

We all know
how those end.

"My task is done.

"My song has ceased.

"My theme has died
into an echo.

It is fit."

And here we are

We're the princes
of the universe

Here we belong
fighting for survival

We've come to be the rulers
of your world

I am immortal

I have inside me
blood of kings
Yeah!

I have no rival

No man can be my equal

Take me to the future
of your world

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