All language subtitles for Gods.and.Monsters.1998.1080p.BluRay.H264.AAC-RARBG

[Thunder]

[Birds squawking]

[Faint conversation]

He had a live-in nurse but...

She was nothing but a bother.

I not like her.

Mr. Jimmy not like her.

Would be better if you
live in again, Mr. David.

Hanna, stop it.

Shh.

If there's any emergency,
you call me in New York.

Yes, I call.

Uh, Mr. Jimmy, more coffee?

What?

Oh, well, yes. Why not?

Just half a cup, Hanna.

Isn't Hanna a peach, hmm?

But she tells me that you
haven't been sleeping very well.

Well, it's these ridiculous
pills they prescribe.

For instance, the luminal.

If I take it,

the next day I go around
as stupid as a stone,

and if I don't take it,

well, then my mind's going off
in a hundred directions at once.

Then take the luminal.

[Sighs]

Well, yes, but today I wanted
to be alert for your visit,

particularly as I saw so
little of you at the hospital.

Jimmy, look, I'm sorry,

but with this picture and
two difficult stars...

[Laughing] Dear David.

It's no pleasure
making you feel guilty.

Go on, off you go.

You don't want to
miss your aeroplane.

I like your new Cezanne.

Oh.

Well.

Good-bye, Hanna.

I get the door.

[Door opens]

[Clears throat]

[Whistle blowing]

Who is this new yard, man?

Mr. Boom...

I-I don't...

Something "B."

I hire him while you
were in the hospital.

He came cheap.

♪ Bells of hell go
ting-a-ling-a-ling ♪

♪ For you but not for me ♪

♪ O death, where is thy
sting-a-ling-a-ling? ♪

♪ Grave where thy victory ♪

Good morning.

My name is Whale.
This is my house.

And your name is?

Boone.

Clay Boone.

I couldn't help but
notice your tattoo.

That motto..."Death
before dishonor."

What does it mean?

It just means that
I was a marine.

Ah, the marines.

I suppose you served in Korea.

[Grunts] Yeah.

Well, I'm gonna
get back to work.

Well, when you're through,
feel free to use the pool.

And we're quite informal here.

No need to worry
about a bathing suit.

I got another lawn
to do this afternoon.

Oh, well, then
some other time.

Yes, keep up the good work.

[Whistling]

[Sighs]

[Rain falling]

Woman: Jimmy! Privy
needs cleanin'.

I have me class tonight.

Don't get above
yourself, Jimmy

leave the drawing
to the artists.

Quite so, mum.

To the privy.

[Clicks heels]

"Quite so"?

Jimmy Whale.

Who are you to put on airs?

Jimmy Whale.

Is there iced tea, Hanna?

Yes, Mr. Jimmy.

Ah, cucumber sandwiches.

Mmm.

An interview, after
so many years.

Very exciting.

Oh, don't be daft.

It's just a student
from the university.

Mm-hmm.

[Doorbell rings]

[Man talking, faint]

Hanna: This way, please.

Mr. Kay, sir.

Huh?

Oh, yes, of course. Mr. Kay.

I'd almost forgotten.

My tea-time guest.

Mr. Whale, this
is such an honor.

You're one of my favorite
all-time directors.

[Laughs]

I can't believe
I'm meeting you.

No, I don't suppose you can.

And this is your house.

Ah! The house of Frankenstein.

I thought you'd live

in a great big
villa or a mansion.

Ah, well, one likes
to live simply.

I know.

People's movies
aren't their lives.

[Imitates Frankenstein's
monster] "Love dead.

Hate living."

[High-pitched giggle]

That's my favorite line

in my favorite
movie of yours--

"bride of Frankenstein."

Is it indeed?

Yes.

Hanna, I think we're
going to take our tea

down by the swimming pool.

Would that be good
for you, Mr. Kay?

Sure.

Well, lead on, won't you?

Mm-hmm. [Giggles]

Oh, I love the
great horror films,

and yours are the best.

"The old dark house."
"The invisible man."

They have style,
and they're funny!

So, Mr. Kay, what
do you want to know?

Everything.

Just start at the beginning.

Well, I was born
just outside London,

the only son of a minister,
who was also a schoolmaster.

Grandpapa was a
bishop, church of...

[Bell tolling]

Stop lagging behind, Jimmy.

We'll be late for church.

Man: Come on!

Stop lollygagging!

[Bell continues tolling]

Straighten up, son.

They'll think
you're a Nancy boy.

[Men, women talking, faint]

Mr. Whale?

Your father was
a schoolmaster?

Yes, of course.

And I was going to
go up to Oxford.

[Sighs]

But the war broke out
and I never made it.

You cannot imagine what life
was like after the armistice.

The 20's in London.

A break with everything
dour and respectable.

I had a knack with
pencil and paper,

so I was hired to design
sets for stage productions.

Ah.

Yes. Help yourself.

Cucumber sandwiches.

[Sighs]

Thank you, Hanna.

And you can go now.

There was one play
in particular,

a beautiful, grim study of
war called "journey's end."

Every experienced
director turned it down.

Not commercial.

So I offered myself.

"Journey's end"
made the careers

of everyone
associated with it.

It was only a matter of time
before Hollywood beckoned.

How much longer before we
get to the horror movies?

Am I right in
assuming, Mr. Kay,

that it is not me that
you are interested in,

but only my horror pictures?

No, but it's the horror movies
you'll be remembered for.

I'm not dead yet, Mr. Kay.

No.

Uh, I never said you were.

Or w-will be soon.

So, "journey's end"
brought you to Hollywood.

I've got a little proposal.

This line of questioning
is getting old.

Don't you think?

I don't mind.

Well, I do.

Let's make it more
interesting for me.

I will answer truthfully any
question that you put to me,

and in return,
for each answer,

you will remove an
article of clothing.

I thi...

That's funny, Mr. Whale.

Yes, it is, isn't it?

My life as a game
of strip poker.

Shall we play?

So the rumors are true then.

Oh? What rumors
would those be?

That you were forced to retire

because of, um, a sex scandal.

A homosexual
scandal, you mean.

For me to answer a
question of that magnitude,

you'll have to remove
both your shoes and socks.

You're a dirty old man.

Oh.

Oh, it is kind of you to indulge
your elders in their vices,

just as I indulge
the young in theirs.

No, there was no scandal.

My only other vice.

I expect you'd like a Fuller
answer to that question.

It'll cost you your jacket.

Too warm for a jacket anyway.

You must understand how
Hollywood was 20 years ago.

If you were a star,

nobody cared a tinker's
cuss who you slept with,

so long as you kept
it out of the papers.

As for us directors,

well, outside Hollywood who
even knows who George Cukor is,

much less what he gets up

to with those boys
from the malt shops?

George Cukor?

Who made "a star is born?"

Take off your shirt, and
I'll tell you all about it.

George is famous for his
Saturday dinner parties.

Great writers,
artists, society folk,

all rubbing elbows
with Hollywood royalty.

But how many of those
oh-so-proper people

know about the Sunday
brunches that follow?

Armies of trade eating
up the leftovers,

followed by some strenuous
fun and frolic in the pool.

[Snickers]

Can we talk about the
horror movies now?

Certainly.

Is there anything in particular
that you want to know?

Will you tell me
everything you remember

about making "Frankenstein?"

[Whispers] Ohh.

Can that count
as one question?

Of course.

I can't believe
I'm doing this.

Just like going
swimming, isn't it?

Well, maybe you'd like a
swim when we're through.

I don't swim myself, so the
pool tends to go to waste.

OK. "Frankenstein."

Who came up with the
monster's makeup and look?

Oh, my idea, mostly,
from my sketches.

Big, heavy brow.

The head flat on top

so you could take out the
old brain and put in the new

like tinned beef.

[Laughs]

He's one of the great images

of the 20th century,

more important than
the "Mona Lisa."

Oh, don't be daft.

It's just makeup and
padding and a big actor.

It's hardly the "Mona Lisa."

Boris Karloff.

How did you ever think of
casting him as the monster?

He'd never even starred
in a movie before that.

Mr. Whale?

Is something the matter?

[Grunts]

Mr. Whale?

Please excuse me.

Mr. Whale, are you all right?

[Groaning]

Just...

Need to lie down.

Studio.

There's a day bed
in the studio.

[Gasps] Oh, my god.

Mr. Whale, wh-what's wrong?

Is it your heart?

No, head, not heart.

Water. Glass is in sink.

Which ones? I bring them all.

Luminal.

Mr. Kay, you're not dressed.

I was gonna go swimming.

So you were.

Mmm.

You should probably go home.

[Clicking tongue]

[Screen door opens]

[Door closes]

[Inhales deeply]

You must think I'm
terrible, Hanna.

I don't think you're
anything anymore.

Just back from the hospital,

already you're
chasing after boys.

Oh, shut up.

All we did was talk.

Perhaps I should
get you uphill

before the pills
knock you cold.

No, no, no, no, no.

Please, no.

Let me stay here.

Thank you.

[Soldiers shouting]

[Gunfire, bombs exploding]

Man: Quiet on the set, please.

Father: You're a disgrace!

Second man: Mr. Whale?

Mother: Jimmy, privy
needs cleanin'.

Mr. Whale.

Open your eyes.

Now look left.

That's right.

And breathe out.

[Exhales]

Good.

Let's see what we've got.

You're a lucky man, Mr. Whale.

Whatever damage was
done by your stroke,

it left your motor abilities
relatively unimpaired.

Yes, Dr. Payne, but what
about from the neck upwards?

What's the story there?

That's what I'm
trying to explain.

The central nervous
system selects items

from a constant
storm of sensations.

Whatever was killed
in your stroke

seems to have short-circuited
this mechanism.

So you're saying there's
an electrical storm

going on inside my head.

Well, that's as good a
way as any to describe it.

I've seen far worse cases.

What about all the rest?

The killing headaches.

The phantom smells.

My inability to close my eyes

without thinking of a hundred
things simultaneously.

I've never encountered the
olfactory hallucinations before,

but I'm sure they're related.

So, what do I do?

Take the luminal to sleep

and whenever you feel
an attack coming on.

What you're saying is
that this isn't just

a case of resting
until I'm better,

but that my condition
will continue

to deteriorate until
the end of my life.

You will take them
all, Mr. Jimmy.

Yes. Don't you worry, Hanna.

Good night.

Thank you.

[Whispers prayer]

Ohh!

[Continues praying]

[Chuckles]

[Equipment thuds]

[Equipment rattling]

Clay: Shit.

Everything all
right, Mr. Boone?

Yeah, sorry.

I didn't mean to disturb you.

It got away from me.

I was just going to buzz Hanna

to bring down some iced tea.

I'd like it very much
if you'd join me.

I kinda stink to high
heaven right now.

Let me ask Hanna to
bring tea for two.

Or would you prefer a beer?

Uh, no.

Thanks. But tea is fine.

Splendid.

Come in, Mr. Boone.

This is my workshop,
my studio.

Hardly somewhere
where a sweaty workman

should feel out of place.

Are these your paintings?

Excuse me, but,
uh, are you famous?

Oh, well, you know
what they say,

if you have to ask...

Look, I'm just a
guy who cuts lawns,

but, uh, some of these
do look kind of familiar.

Well, that's because they were
familiar when I painted them.

The one you're looking at is
a copy of a Dutch still life

done nearly 300 years ago.

And there's a Rembrandt
here somewhere.

Yeah, copies. I got ya.

But before I retired,

you might say I had
my time in the sun.

Fame, as it were.

Tell me, do you like
motion pictures?

Yeah, sure.

Everybody does.

Why? Were you an actor?

Oh, good lord, no!

No. Well, actually,
I was in my youth.

But never in
Hollywood, no, no.

No, here I was
merely a director.

Really?

Well, what were
some of your movies?

Oh, this and that.

The only ones you
may have heard of

are the "Frankenstein" movies.

"Frankenstein?"

And, um, uh, "bride
of Frankenstein?"

And son of, and the
other ones, too?

Uh, no. I-I just
directed the first two.

The others were done by hacks.

Yeah, but still, I mean,
th-those were big movies.

I mean, you must be rich.

Well, merely comfortable.

Look, Hanna's here
with our refreshments.

Could you get the door?

Y-Yeah.

How are you
feeling, Mr. Jimmy?

How's your mind today?

My mind is lovely.

And yours?

You remember what
the doctor tells us.

Yes, yes, yes.

I have invited Mr. Boone
in merely for a cup of tea.

[Sighs]

We'll have a brief chat,

and then he'll
finish the yard.

I am not forgetting
your last "brief chat."

Will you go away?

We can manage.

He looks plenty big.

He won't need my help if
anything goes "flooey."

Go.

Avaunt.

[Chuckles]

Comic maid.

No, she's a love, Hanna.

But when they've been in
your employ for too long,

servants begin to think
they're married to you.

Please sit down. Oh, and do
help yourself, Mr. Boone.

So, what did she mean by
things going all "flooey"?

I'm recently returned
from a spell in hospital.

What happened?

Nothing serious.
Touch of stroke.

Huh.

You must excuse my staring,

but you have the
most marvelous head.

Huh?

To an artistic eye.

Have you ever modeled?

What, you mean, like,
posed for pictures?

Sat for an artist?

Been sketched?

Mmm...

[Laughs] No. What's to sketch?

You have the most...

Architectural skull.

And your nose, it's...

Very expressive.

Broke is more like it.

Mmm.

Oh, sorry to go on like this.

It's just the Sunday
painter in me.

I quite understand
your refusal.

It's a great deal
to ask of anyone.

You mean, you really
want to draw me?

I would pay for the privilege
of drawing that head.

And it's just my head
you want to draw?

I mean, nothin' else?

And what are you suggesting?

That you'll charge extra

if I include a hand
or a bit of shoulder?

No, I mean, you don't wanna...

Draw pictures of me in
my birthday suit, do you?

I have no interest in
your body, Mr. Boone.

I can assure you of that.

Well, uh...

[Chuckles]

Yeah. Why not?

I mean, hell, I
could use the money.

Excellent.

Here are the trade
papers you wanted.

Hello?

Hi. Look, I know
you already paid me.

I'm just here to...

The master is waiting for you.

He's down in his studio.

Here. Take this with you.

Uh, I'm sorry, lady.

You're gonna have
to take this.

I'm just here so he
can draw my picture.

I'm keeping away.

What you are doing is
no business of mine.

What are you talking about?

What kind of man are you?

Are you a good man?

Yeah. I'm a good man.

Something about me
make you think I'm not?

You will not hurt him?

Lady, I'm gonna
sit in a chair,

and he's gonna
draw my picture.

Is that gonna hurt him?

No.

I'm sorry.

Forget everything I said.

I will take the tray.

Yeah, you do that.

Ah, Mr. Boone. Come
into my parlor.

Ah, Hanna. Good.

Thank you.

And, Hanna, good-bye.

Well, now, I'm sure
you would like to wet

your whistle while I work.
Hmm?

Oh. Beer.

And we'll take it,
uh, slowly today

because this is your
first time modeling.

Oh, hey, did you see this?

Hmm?

They're showing one of
your movies tomorrow night.

You don't say. Which picture?

Uh, "bride of Frankenstein."

Ah. Hmm.

No, I much prefer "the
invisible man" or "showboat."

Right. Now, shall we begin?

Yeah. I'm, uh...

I'm ready when you are.

Oh, that shirt, Mr. Boone.

Hmm?

Oh, it's new.

Yes, I-I am sorry.

It's just too white.
It's too distracting.

W-W-Would it be asking you
too much to take it off?

Well, I'm not wearing
an undershirt today.

Oh, pish posh.

I'm not your aunt tillie.
[Laughing]

You did say that you just
wanted to draw my face, right?

Oh, well, if it's going to
make you feel uncomfortable,

perhaps we can find something
else for you to wear.

Now, um...

Yes, we could drape this across
your shoulders like a toga.

Would that help you overcome
your schoolgirl shyness?

All right, all right.
I'll take the shirt off.

Kinda warm in here anyway.

Oh, yes. That's better.

Now...

And if you'd like to
sit slightly sideways...

To me. That's right.

And then just put your
arm on the box there.

Just so.

Why don't you take a picture?

It'll last longer.

That's exactly what
I'm going to do.

[Mutters] Yeah.

Hmm.

It's just like
being at the doctor.

You have to remain
perfectly still

while I examine
and scrutinize you.

[Sniffing]

Dripping.

Huh?

Do you ever eat dripping
in this country?

The fats from roast and such.

Kept congealed in a jar,

and then used like butter
on bread and toast.

Sounds like something
you'd feed the dog.

Yes, it is.

Only the poorest
families ever ate it.

We used to keep ours

in a large, blue crockery jar.

Your family ate, uh, dripping?

Oh, of course not. No, no.

As I said, only the
poorest families.

God, it's ironic.

What is?

I've spent much of my
life outrunning the past,

and now it floods all over me.

There's something about
the openness of your face

that makes me want
to tell the truth.

Yes, our family ate dripping.

Beef dripping.

And four to a bed.

And a privy out
back in the alley.

Are you also from
the slums, Mr. Boone?

Well, we weren't rich, but
w-w-we weren't poor either.

No, well, you were
middle class, hmm?

Like all Americans, hmm?

Well, I don't know.

I guess you could say we lived

on the wrong side
of the tracks.

Well, in Dudley, in
the north of England,

there were more
sides to the tracks

than any American
could imagine.

Every Englishman
knows his place,

and if you forget,

there's always
someone to remind you.

Our family had no doubt
about who they were,

but I was an aberration
in that household,

a freak of nature.

I had imagination,
cleverness, joy.

Now, where did I get that?

[Chuckles]

Certainly not from them.

They took me out of
school when I was 14

and put me in a factory.

They meant no harm.

They were like a
family of farmers

who've been given a giraffe

and don't know what to
do with the creature

except to harness
him to the plow.

Hatred was the only thing
that kept my soul alive

in that soul-killing place.

And amongst the men I hated

was my own poor,
dear, dumb father...

Who'd put me into that
hell in the first place.

Mr. Whale?

[Groans]

I apologize, Mr. Boone.

Since my stroke, I am often
overcome with nostalgia.

Well, I'm not that crazy
about the old man myself.

You know what I mean?

Um...

Shall we just have a break
for five minutes, hmm?

[Sniffs]

Woman: Spooky movie.

Just what this
place needs tonight.

Couldn't get any deader, doll.

Set me up.

Your friend want one?

Yeah. One for
what's-his-name here.

Thanks, doll.

I say we let lover
boy watch his movie

and be grateful he's not
cuttin' Shirley temple's lawn.

Why is everyone breakin'
my balls tonight?

Jesus, Boone.

You walk in here
proud as a peacock

'cause some old coot wants
to paint your picture.

We're just bringin'
you back to earth.

Sounds screwy to me.

Can't imagine a
real artist wanting

to spend time lookin'
at that kisser.

Oh?

Yeah? Well, this
kisser wasn't so bad

that you couldn't lay
under it a couple of times.

[Laughing]

I bet he's just some fruit
pretending to be famous

so he can get into
the big guy's pants.

What makes you say that?

Just thinkin' out loud.

Well, why don't you just keep
your dirty thoughts to yourself?

All right, then.

He's interested in you
for your conversation.

We all know what a
great talker you are.

Fuck you.

Not anymore, you don't.

We're watching the
damn movie, Harry.

OK, we're gonna
watch the movie.

Calm down. We'll watch it.

[Dramatic score playing]

James Whale! Right there. Huh?

What'd I tell ya? Huh?

What should I do then?

Aah!

This looks corny.

If you don't wanna watch it,
just go wash some glasses.

All right?

[Growls]

Good old una.

[Screaming]

Gobbling like a Turkey hen.

[Laughs, imitates
una screaming]

Oh, that monster. How could
you be working with him?

Don't be daft, Hanna.

He's a very proper actor.

And the dullest
fellow imaginable.

To a new world of
gods and monsters.

[Laughs]

[Laughing]

Man: The creation of
life is enthralling.

Simply enthralling, is it not?

These old movies
were such a hoot.

They thought they
were being scary,

but they're just funny.

Maybe it's supposed
to be funny.

Scary is scary.
Funny is funny.

You don't mix them.

Woman.

Friend.

Wife.

Sick stuff. Necrophilia.

The monster's lonely.
He wants a friend.

A girlfriend, somebody.

What's so sick about that?

Man: Do you know who
Henry Frankenstein is,

and who you are?

Monster: Made me from dead.

I love dead.

Hate living.

Man: You are wise
in your generation.

It's beating perfectly.

[Gasps]

Oh, she's horrible.

The bride of Frankenstein.

She's beautiful.

Monster: Friend?

[Mutters]

Aah!

You don't want him.

I can't leave them! I can't!

Yes.

Go.

You live!

[Growls]

[Sniffs]

Ugh.

I'm sorry, Mr. Jimmy.

Your movie is not my teacup.

Still, glad it has
a happy ending.

The bad people are dead,

and the good people live.

[Applause]

My god!

Is the audience to presume

that Colin and I
have done her hair?

I thought we were
mad scientists,

not hairdressers.

Only a mad scientist could've
done this to a woman.

Oh, no, my dear. You
look absolutely amazing.

There's no way I can
compete with you.

The scene is yours.

In the sequel, James,

two lady scientists
should make a monster,

and our monster
would be Gary Cooper.

I'd have thought
Mr. Leslie Howard

would be more your line.

More your line, I think.

My line nowadays
runs to Rin tin tin.

Colin! Here!

It's time! How is he tonight?

Stiff as a board.

Yes, Colin, come see what
they've done to our Elsa.

I'm not quite
myself today, Jimmy.

A touch of the flu, you know.

Now, you just relax, dear boy.

You can do this
scene in your sleep.

Hmm?

I gather we not only did
her hair, but dressed her.

What a couple of
queens we are, Colin.

Yes, that's right.

A couple of flaming queens.

Pretorius is a little bit

in love with Dr. Frankenstein.

You know? Hmm?

Uh-huh?

Yes. I think we're
pretty close.

Mm-hmm. Shall we give it a go?

Why not?

Quiet on the set, please.

[Bell rings]

Lights!

Sound!

Man: OK for sound!

And camera.

Scene 215, take one.

Action.

The bride of Frankenstein.

Well, that was a weird movie.

Let's take a little walk, huh?

What do you say?

A little walk and talk?

I really feel like
talking tonight.

This old guy's exactly
the sort of person

I expected to meet
when I moved here.

You know? He's really
done things with his life.

Do you realize you're more
interested in this old goober

than you ever were in me?

That's different he's a man.

Besides, you got no business
callin' him a homo. You know?

It never crossed your mind?

He's an artist, but, you know,

he's too old to be
thinkin' about sex.

All the old men I know
think about nothing but sex.

Hey, hey, hey.

What is eating you tonight?

You picked up that girl
right in front of me.

I didn't mean
anything by that.

No, I'm actually kind
of glad it happened.

It made me wonder what the
hell I was doin' with my life.

I still have time
to get things right,

get married again.

Y-You don't mean...

[Giggling]

You're not marriage material.

You're not even
boyfriend material.

You're a kid.

A big, fun, irresponsible kid.

No, I'm not a kid.

No? What are you, then?

What'll you be ten
years from now?

Still cuttin' lawns?

Still bangin' horny
divorcees in your trailer?

Huh?

So I guess this means
you don't want to fuck.

Is that all this
conversation means to you?

Whether I put out or not?

Yeah, you're damn straight.

I'm tired of playin' games.

Hey.

Hey, Betty.

Look, this is comin'
out all wrong.

Betty! Forget it, Boone.

From now on,

you're just another loser on
the other side of the bar.

Hey. Hey! Hey, Betty!

Oh.

Man: We are
friends, you and I.

Monster: You hurt
my poor friend.

Woman: Isn't the
monster dead yet?

[Elsa laughing]

Monster: Alone.

Elsa/Shelley: Perfect night
for mystery and horror.

Monster: Bad. Friend good.

Friend! Friend!

Elsa/Shelley: The air itself
is filled with monsters.

[Electricity
buzzing, crackling]

[Groaning]

[Urinating]

Does the yard man come today?

Of course. This afternoon.

Hey!

Can I do something for ya?

The master wants to know
if you are free for lunch.

I tell him you'll be
having other plans,

but he insists I ask.

Well, I do have a
lawn this afternoon,

but I'm free until then.

Expect nothing fancy.

The master is dressing.

I'm to offer you a drink.

There is whiskey.
There is iced tea.

Yeah, tea's fine.

No, no, you're a guest now.

You go sit in the living room.

Um, I'm more comfortable
in here, Hanna.

It is Hanna, isn't it?

[Sighs]

So, uh, Hanna, how long have
you worked here for Mr. Whale?

Oh, long enough.

Fifteen years. Yeah?

You have people, Boone?

Yeah, people.

They're all back in
Joplin, Missouri.

Oh, your wife?

Uh, I'm not married.

Why?

I don't know.

I guess because, uh...

No girl in her right
mind would have me.

A man who is not
married has nothing.

He is a man of trouble.

You need a woman.

Are you proposing what I
think you're proposing?

Don't you think I'm just a
little bit young for you?

Oh, men!

Always pulling legs.

Everything is comedy.

Oh, how very amusing.

How marvelously droll.

So, uh...Have you
ever been married?

Of course. I'm married still.

What does your husband do?

He's dead now.

Twenty years.

Well, then you're
as single as I am.

No, no, I have children,
and grandchildren, too.

I visit when I can.

Of course, now Mr. Jimmy
cannot be left alone

for long, so I do
not get out much.

[Sighs] Poor Mr. Jimmy.

There is much good in him,

but he will suffer
the fires of hell.

It's very sad.

You sure of that?

That's what the
priests tell me.

His sins of the flesh
will keep him from heaven.

Hell, everybody's got those.

No. His is the worst.

The unspeakable.

The deed no man can
name without shame.

What is the good English?

All I know is "bugger."
He's a bugger.

Men who bugger each other.

A homo.

[Chuckling] Yes! You know.

That is why he
must go to hell.

I do not think it's fair,

but god's laws is
not for us to judge.

So, what you're telling me
is that Mr. Whale is a homo.

You did not know?

Uh...

No. I wasn't very sure.

You and he are not--

Oh, no, no, no.

Hanna. [Laughing]

[Gasps]

That's what I hope.

I did not think you
were a bugger, too.

Whale: Hanna?

Oh. You must go in quickly.

He would not like to think
I've had you in the kitchen.

[Clears throat]

Oh. How are you, Mr. Boone?

I'm all right, I guess.

I'm so glad you
could come for lunch.

Princess Margaret.

"Her majesty's loyal subjects
in the motion picture industry."

"Cordially invited to a reception
at the home of Mr. George Cukor."

The pushy little-- [sighs]

Horning in on the
queen's little sister,

and then offering to share
her with the whole damn raj?

This is a world I
finished with long ago.

I've paid them no mind,

and I expect them to
return the compliment.

Cheers.

I, uh, I watched your movie the
other night with some friends.

Did you, now?

Yeah.

Did anyone laugh?

No.

Pity. People are so
earnest these days.

Why? Was it supposed
to be funny?

Yes, of course.

A picture about death,

I had to make it interesting
for myself, you see.

So, a comedy about death...

The trick is not to
spoil it for anyone

who's not in on the joke.

But the monster never
receives any of my jibes.

He's noble. Noble
and misunderstood.

In Korea, Mr. Boone...
Did you kill anyone?

I don't like to
talk about that.

It's nothing to be ashamed of.

In the service
of one's country,

something to be proud of.

Any jerk with a gun
can kill someone.

Well, that's true, yes.

Hand-to-hand combat
is the true test.

Did you ever slay
anyone hand-to-hand?

No.

But I could have, though.

Yes, I believe you could.

How free is your
schedule this afternoon?

Well, I gotta trim the hedges,

and then I got another
lawn out on La Cienega.

Suppose we say
"phooey" to the hedges.

Can you spare an hour
after lunch to sit for me?

Um...I can't.

Well, I'll pay you
our going rate,

plus whatever you would
have got for the hedges.

I-I just don't feel like
sittin' still today.

All righty.

I understand.

You ever been
married, Mr. Whale?

No.

Well, not in the legal sense.

What other sense is there?

Well, one can live
as husband and wife

without getting
the law involved.

So then you did have a wife?

Or a husband,

depending on which
of us you asked.

My friend David lived
here for many years.

Oh.

Does that surprise you?

No, um...

You're a homosexual.

Mmm!

If one must use
the clinical name.

I'm not, you know.

I never thought you were.

You don't think of
me that way, do you?

And what way would that be?

Well, the way that
I look at women.

Oh, don't be ridiculous.

I know a real man like you

would break my neck if I so
much as laid a finger on you.

Besides, you're not my type.

So we understand each other.

Hey. Live and let live.

I hope this has
got nothing to do

with your refusing
to sit for me today.

Oh, no.

No, no.

What are you afraid
of, Mr. Boone?

Surely not a frail
old man like me.

Tell me more about
yourself, Mr. Boone.

Have you a steady companion?

Not at the moment.

Oh? Why not?

Well, 'cause I guess
you gotta kiss ass

just to get a piece of it.

Nicely put.

A man's gotta make
up his life alone.

A philosopher. Mmm.

Thoreau...

With a lawn mower.

I like it.

Yes. But do be
careful, Mr. Boone.

Freedom is a drug, you
know, much like any other.

Too much can be
a very bad thing.

Is that why you and, uh,
your friend split up?

'Cause he wanted to be free?

Yes, I suppose.

I know it's why I
stopped making pictures.

You might not think
it to look at me now,

but there was a
time when I was

at the very pinnacle
of my profession.

The horror movies
were behind me.

I'd made "showboat."

Major success.

Big box office.

So now I was to do
something important.

The picture was called
"the road back."

It was an indictment of the great
war and what it did to Germany.

It was going to
be my masterpiece.

What happened?

The fucking studio
butchered it.

They took the guts
out of my picture.

They brought in another
director to add some slapstick

and the movie laid an egg.

A great, expensive bomb
for which I was blamed.

And after that I
was out of fashion.

I could no longer command
the best projects,

so I walked away.

Why should I spend my time working
in this dreadful business?

Do you miss it?

Mmm.

Oh, it was all so long ago.

Fifteen years.

Making movies is the most
wonderful thing in the world.

Working with friends,
entertaining people.

Yes, I suppose I miss it.

But I chose freedom.

David, of course, was
still in the thick of it,

a life chockablock with
anxiety and studio intrigue.

I didn't fancy spending
my golden years

as "the friend,"

so I finally drew down the
curtain and closed the show.

And, um, when the
fetters are loosened,

a certain hedonism creeps in,

don't you think?

Oh, there was a time when this
house was full of young men.

Some of them even
posed for me,

right where you're
sitting now.

Of course, they weren't
nearly so bashful.

Oh, no, this studio was full

of bare buttocks and pricks.
Mmm.

Hard, arrogant pricks.

OK, just cut it out. OK?

Isn't it bad enough that you've
told me you're a fuckin' fairy?

And now you're gonna
rub my face in it?

Mr. Boone, I assure
you, I didn't mean--

fuck this!

I can't do this anymore!

From now on, I'm just the
guy that cuts your lawn.

Got it?

[Door swings shut]

Man: Jimmy?

Come on, Jimmy.

Watch me dive.

Clay: Hey, Harry. Set me up.

[Jukebox country swing]

Where's Betty?

Took the night off.

Heavy date.

Some guy she's had her
eye on for a while.

Hey!

Hi!

[Panting, moaning]

Hello, Helen. It's Clay.

No, I'm not in jail.

No, I don't need any money.
Thanks.

Is sis there? Put her on.

There's this movie
guy I met out here.

She'd get a real
bang out of it.

Just let me talk--
where is she?

You don't know.

Yeah, I'd give you my phone number
if I had a phone, wouldn't I?

Put the old man on.

Yeah, you know, forget it.

Just let him sleep it off.

All right. Yeah.

Time's up, Helen, now.

[Voice on phone, faint]

I'm out of dimes.

Uh-huh.

Have one for me.

Mr. Boone.

Thank you, Hanna.

I wanna sit for you again.

Only if you promise to ease up
on the locker room talk, OK?

Scout's honor.

[Chuckles]

I'm curious, Mr. Boone.

What convinced
you to come back?

I don't know.

I like your stories, I guess.

Oh, everyone's got
stories to tell.

Not me.

Hmm.

And the fear that you
displayed at our last session.

How did you overcome that?

More like disgust.

Oh, same difference,
Mr. Boone.

Disgust, fear of the unknown

all part of the great Gulf
that stands between us two.

Am I right in assuming that
you have little experience

with men of my persuasion?

No teammates in football?

No.

No comrades in Korea?

You must think that the
whole world is queer.

Well, you know what? It's not.

And war certainly isn't.

Oh, there may be no
atheists in the foxholes,

but there are,
occasionally, lovers.

You're talkin'
through your hat now.

No, I'm not. I was in
the foxholes myself.

You were a soldier?

I was an officer
in the trenches.

Was this world war I?

No, my dear, the Crimean war.

Well, what do you think?

The great war.

There were trenches
when I arrived

and trenches when I
left two years later.

Just like in the movies,
only the movies, ahh,

they never get the
stench of it all.

The world reduced
to mud and sandbags

and a narrow strip
of rainy sky.

What were we talking about?

Oh.

Love.

Love in the trenches.

Barnett.

Was that his name?

Leonard Barnett.

He'd come straight to
the front from school.

From harrow.

And he looked up to me.

Wasn't like the others.

He didn't care that I
was a working-class man

impersonating my betters.

How strange to be
admired so blindly.

I suppose he loved me.

I remember one
morning in particular,

a morning when
the sun came out.

It's odd how, even there,

there were days when the weather
was enough to make one happy.

He and I stood
on the fire step.

I was showing him the
sights of no-man's-land.

It was beautiful.

Beautiful.

And I was shoulder-to-shoulder

with a tall, apple-cheeked
schoolboy who loved me...

And trusted me.

You will not do this
to me again, Mr...

[Gasps] Mr. Boone.

You will not set me on
another walk down memory Lane.

I...I won't.

I absolutely refuse.

[Sniffles] Oh, why do
I tell you all this?

I never told David.

I never even remembered
it till you got me going.

You started in on this.

You can't understand.
You just sit there.

You let me talk.

"Yes, the poor old man,"
you're thinking to yourself.

Yeah. "The crazy old poof."

Why are you here?

Let's get this straight.

What do you want from me?

You wanted me to model.
Remember?

Well, of course I remember.

What do you think I
am, so fucking senile?

Uh, uh, Mr. Whale?

[Murmuring quietly]
Oh, I'm so stupid.

Stupid, stupid.

Mr. Whale, you all right?

What was I thinking about?

Oh, would you go?

I'm sorry. Please.

Why don't you just go?

I just don't get it.

First you creep me out
with this homo shit.

Then you hit me
with war stories.

And now you're upset with me
because I listened to you?

What do you want?

I want...

More than anything else,
I want a glass of water.

Sick.

Thank you.

I do apologize. I'm...

No harm done.

I have no business
snapping at you.

It was foolishness to start
this portrait, you know.

You mean you don't want
me to sit for you anymore?

Would you like to come
to a party with me?

A reception for
Princess Margaret.

I thought you said
you weren't gonna go.

If you don't mind driving...

I'd like to take
you as my guest.

Yeah, sure, I'm game. Why not?

Very good, Clayton.

May I call you Clayton?

Clayton?

Yeah, sure. Clayton's fine.

Mr. Boone, he's an
interesting friend.

I'd hardly call our
yardman a friend.

Oh, no, but someone
you can talk to.

That needs pressing, hmm?

Do you miss having
someone to talk to, Hanna?

I have my family.

Also our lord, Jesus Christ.

Ah.

Tell me, how is the
old boy these days?

We need a hat with that.
There's a Panama.

Oh, maybe in your old room.

[Telephone rings]

No, no, in the storage closet.

[Sighs]

[Ringing continues]

Hello.

Oh, Eva.

Mmm.

[Speaking Scandinavian
language]

[Soldiers shouting]

[Gunfire, explosions]

Whale: Gas masks on!

[Shouting continues]

[Gunfire, explosions continue]

Oh, Mr. Jimmy.

That is my daughter.

She said she and her husband are
coming to town this afternoon.

Here. I'm sorry, Mr. Jimmy.

I will make it short.

I will be out myself
this afternoon.

Remember?

I suppose you'd
like the top down.

If that's all right with you.

Nothing would please me more.

[Engine starts]

[Speaks Scandinavian language]

Whale: Oh, good old George.

He loves to put on the dog.

Slim pickings.

Mind you, it's early yet.

Perhaps this is a good time for us
to go and pay our respects, hmm?

Thank you. Thank
you for coming.

Charming.

[Gasps]

I had no idea you
would be here.

How are you?

Fine. I'm just fine.

And your royal highness?

Splendid, now that I
know that you're around.

Can we get together
while I'm in town?

I so badly want to
sit for you again.

Sit?

I've changed my hair,

you see, since
our last session.

Those old snaps look
rather dowdy now.

Oh, dear. Have I
made a blunder?

The pleasure is mine.

James Whale.

I am such a goose.

I mistook you
for Cecil Beaton.

It's the hat.

You're wearing one of
Cecil's hats, you know.

George, James Whale.

David Lewis's friend.

Oh.

I used to make
pictures myself, ma'am.

Yes, of course.

One can't throw a
rock in this town

without hitting one of
us old movie directors.

[Both chuckling]

Ma'am, may I introduce
Mr. Clayton Boone.

My gardener.

How do you do?

Clay-- Clay Boone.

Quite.

I adore gardens.

[All chuckling]

He's never meta Princess.

Only queens.

Well, George, ma'am,

this has been an honor,

and one that I shall remember

for the rest of my life.

Great place.

Mmm.

[Chuckles]

Hello.

What was that all about?

Oh, don't worry.

Nothing of any importance.

Just two old men slapping
each other with lilies.

I'm sorry.

[Woman laughs]

Who's that?

David.

The friend I thought
was in New York.

No, the girl.

Oh, it's Elizabeth Taylor.

Oh, thank you.

Yes, David produced
her last picture.

What are you doing here?

I was just going to
ask you the same thing.

Thought you were
still in New York.

I was, until last night.

I was going to call.

David Lewis.

Hey. Clay Boone.

Our yardman, who's been kind
enough to serve as my escort

to George's little do.

Should you be drinking
in your condition?

Oh, David, will you
stop being a nanny.

I think I'm gonna go
and get another beer.

[Giggles]

You should've seen George's
face when he saw Clayton.

Oh! [Giggles]

You didn't, Jimmy.

I did.

Mind you, Princess
Margaret's an absolute doll.

Well, we're all
equals in her eyes...

As commoners, I presume.

You only embarrass yourself.

Oh, dear.

I'll never work in
this town again.

You know what I mean.

Your reputation.

I have no reputation.

I am as free as the air.

But the rest of us aren't.

Can't you remember that?

No.

I never could.

I suppose you regret
having got me invited here.

I didn't ask George
to invite you.

Oh. Well, then, who did?

I have people here
I need to speak to.

You'll be all
right on your own?

Yes, yes, perfectly.

I'll drop by tomorrow
for breakfast.

Oh, yes.

Oh.

Oh, I say.

Thank you very much.

Just the one. Hmm.

[Sighs]

Mr. Whale!

[High-pitched giggle]

Mr. Whale.

Mr. Kay.

Bet you never thought
you'd see me again.

[Laughs]

I didn't know if you'd be well
enough to come to this party.

You didn't?

I'm the one who got you
on Mr. Cukor's guest list.

You, Mr. Kay?

But how do you
know George Cukor?

I interviewed him
after I met you.

I'm his social secretary now.

Well, assistant
to his secretary.

Yes, I commend you. Yes.

If you're going
to pursue poofs,

go after those who
can do favors for you.

You just waste everyone's
time when you court dinosaurs.

Don't think like
that, Mr. Whale.

I love your movies.

That's why I
wanted you to come,

so I could see you
with your monsters.

My monsters?

Don't go away.

[Giggles]

Uh, excuse me.

Miss Lanchester. Yes?

[Whispers]

Elsa.

Jimmy!

Elsa.

How are you?

Mmm.

[Giggles]

I saw una O'Connor
a few weeks ago.

She said you'd been
under the weather.

Oh, well, nothing
out of the ordinary.

Getting old.

Nonsense!

Ah, what's our pesky
friend up to now?

Mmm?

Is that Boris?

[Whale sighs]

Our little chum appears
to be arranging a reunion.

Oh, dear.

Boris, darling.

Elsa. Elsa!

And James.

James.

How good to see you.

I didn't know you were here.

These public revels are
hardly up your alley.

Actually, I'm here for
the sake of Miranda,

my great-grandniece.

Koochie-koo.

[Baby coos]

And what do you make
of our royal visitant?

Perfectly charming.

A real lady.

What did you expect,
a hussy in tennis shoes?

[Laughs]

Hey, you, with the camera.

We got a historical
moment here.

Come, get a picture of it.

This is Mr. James Whale,

who made "Frankenstein"

and "bride of Frankenstein,"

and this--forget
the baby a second--

is...the monster...

And his bride.

Oh, Karloff. Right.

Don't you just
love being famous?

To a new world of
gods and monsters.

[Gunfire, explosions continue]

[Screaming]

Are you all right, Jimmy?

Yeah. Yeah.

Got it.

Clay: Mr. Whale.

Are you OK?

I'm tired. I'm a bit tired.

Are you enjoying yourself?

No.

Actually, I feel a
little out of place here.

Well, neither of us
really fits in here.

That must've been funny for
you, seeing your monsters again.

Monsters?

The only monsters are here.

[Thunder crashes]

[Guests chattering, screaming]

Oh, fuck. We left
the top down.

You wanna run for it?

"Run for it"?

It's raining.

Woman: Hurry! Hurry!

Whoo!

[Hooting, laughing]

Mr. Whale?

Mr. Whale.

Let's get out of
this fuckhole.

You sure you don't
want to wait it out?

We aren't made of sugar.

We won't melt.

[Thunder rumbling]

"Oh, that this too, too
solid flesh would melt."

I'm getting you home before you
catch your death of pneumonia.

Catch my death?

Are you OK, Mr. Whale?

Jimmy, please, hmm?

Call me Jimmy.

[Engine starts, revs]

[Thunder continues]

Hanna, we need some towels!

We're soaked to the bone!

Oh, blast it.

Well, if we soil your floors,
it's your own bloody fault!

Oh, I don't believe it.

Oh, don't worry.
She'll be back.

She just can't say
"no" to her daughter.

Well, you certainly
have better things to do

than to baby-sit an old man.

I didn't have
anything planned.

Well, you go and get
a shower upstairs

and I'll get you
something dry to wear.

[Thunder continues]

Well, what do you think?

Hmm?

Mr. Whale?

Where are those
clothes you promised?

Mr. Whale?

He trusts me, you know.

Mr. Whale?

Jimmy?

Oh, yes.

Mr. Whale?

Huh?

Yes, of course, uh, Clayton.

Do come in.

Now, I promised to get
you some dry clothes.

The trouble is,
you're so large.

You wouldn't want to attempt
to get into my pants.

Uh, n-no. Definitely not.

Very good, Clayton.

Now...

Oh, I know!

This--this absolutely
swims on me,

so that should deal
with your upper half.

And now we just need to deal
with the rest, don't we?

Um...

Do you have any baggy
shorts or pajama bottoms?

Uh, no. I'm sorry.

Uh, my pajamas
are all tailored.

Would it be too
distressing for you

to continue with that towel?

It's hardly more immodest
than a kilt, you know.

Yes?

How very sporting
of you, Clayton.

Say, is this, um...

Yes, it's the only
memento I ever kept.

My original sketch
for the monster.

Uh, shall we?

Yeah.

[Thunder continues]

When we've finished eating,

if Hanna's not back, shall
we try a few more sketches?

I thought you'd given
up on my drawing.

Yeah, but I'd
like to try again.

It'll give us something
to do while we wait.

Tell me something, Clayton.

Do you believe
in mercy killing?

I never really gave
it much thought.

You must've come across
such situations in Korea.

A wounded comrade, or
perhaps even an enemy.

You know, someone for whom
death would be a blessing.

I never went to Korea.

I never even made it
through boot camp.

But you said--

that I was a marine,
which is true.

You filled in the rest.

Oh, I see.

My old man was a marine.

Lied about his age,
and he enlisted.

Is this the great war?

Yeah. Yeah.

By the time he was
ready to ship out,

all the fighting
was over, though,

so, he felt like
he'd missed out.

Well, it was Avery
lucky thing he did.

That's not the way he saw it.

To him it was like his life
never really got started.

Nothing else seemed to matter.

Certainly not his family.

Is that why you became a
marine, for your father's sake?

I figured it'd be
the next best thing.

I mean, but, you
know, I loved it, too.

I really--I did.

It was a chance to be a
part of something important,

something that's
bigger than yourself.

So, what happened?

Didn't have the guts for it.

Hmm?

Literally.

My appendix burst.

They gave me a
medical discharge.

And the only thing
I can think is,

how the hell am I
gonna tell my father?

And you know what happened
when I finally did tell him?

He laughed at me.

Well, them's the breaks, huh?

So...

No war stories for this pup.

That's where you're
wrong, Clayton.

You just told me one.

A very good story indeed.

[Thunder continues]

Whew. This storm
is getting worse.

"A perfect night for
mystery and horror.

The air itself is
filled with monsters."

That's from one of
your movies, right?

Very good.

"The only monsters are here."

Don't remember that one.

James Whale.

This afternoon at the
party when you said,

"the only monsters are here,"

I was wondering which
"here" that was.

No, I--I don't recall.

Memories of the war, perhaps.

Barnett.

Barnett on the wire.

Your friend.

Yes.

He caught his one night coming
back from reconnaissance.

I wouldn't take
him, but McGill did,

"just to give the
laddie a taste."

They were nearly home when
a Maxim gun opened fire.

Barnet's body
landed on this wire

that was as thick as briers.

It was hanging there
the next morning.

It was only a hundred yards
from the line, but too far...

For anyone to fetch it.

So we saw him every
morning stand-to

and every evening stand-to.

"Good morning, Barnett,"
we used to say to him.

"How's old Barnett
looking today?"

"He seemed a little peaked.
Looks a little plumper."

And if he hung there...

[Exhales]

Well, at least until
we were relieved.

We introduced him to the new
unit before marching out,

speaking highly of
his companionship.

God, we were a witty lot.

Laughing at our dead, feeling
that it was our death, too.

But I tell you, for each
man who died I thought,

"better you than
me, poor sod."

You know, a whole generation
was wiped out by that war.

[Thunder continues]

You survived it.

Can't hurt you now.

No good to dig it up.

Oh.

Friend, it's
digging itself up.

There is nothing in the here
and now to take my mind off it.

The parties...

Well, you were there.

Reading...I can't--

I-I can't concentrate.

There's no work, of course,

and, uh, love and, uh,
painting and, uh...

Drawing, I mean.

Look.

Your portrait, Clayton.

It's all gone for me now.

All gone.

They're nothing but the
scribblings of an infant.

There's nothing.

Nothing.

You said you wanted to
draw me like a statue.

There.

It's going to
happen after all.

What did you say?

No, it won't do.

What won't do?

You're much too human.

Well, what do you
expect, bronze?

Don't move.

[Grunting noise]

I want you to wear this.

Why?

Just so I can see
the artistic effect.

Your very human body
against the inhuman mask.

Oh! Very striking.

Mmm.

I don't know.

Oh, come on, Clayton.

Just for a minute, so
I can see the effects.

From the first
world war, isn't it?

Mmm, yes. Yes.

Fasten this around the back.

Let me help you.

There.

Hmm?

[Sniffing, gasping]

Uh...

Now what?

All right, let's take it off.

Uh, it's too tight.
I can't breathe.

Oh, no, l-l-leave it.
I'll help.

Leave it to me.

Wha-can you--

I'm still here.

Um...

Mr. Whale.

[Panicked breathing]

Oh, what steely muscles
you've got there.

Just take the fuckin'
mask off me now, OK?

What a solid brute you are.

Oh. Hey! Hey!

Hey, just get your
fuckin' hands off me!

It's no use, Clayton.
I can't hear you.

I can't hear a word.

Oh, well, then, maybe this.

Hey, hey, hey, hey!

[Whale groans]

Ohh!

Yes!

Now I've got you! Get off me!

How will you ever
get yourself back?

I told you, I'm not that way!

Get it through your
fuckin' head, all right?

You feel so good, Clayton.

Uhh!

Didn't even sting!

[Grunting, laughing]

Wait till I tell my
friends about this.

Won't they be surprised.

I haven't done
anything with you

[gasps] You undressed for me.

I've been kissing you.

I even touched your prick!

How will you ever be able
to live with yourself?

What do you want from me?

[Laughing hysterically]

I want you to kill me.

What?

Break my neck.

Come on, strangle me.

It'll be so easy to
choke the life out of me.

Come on, Clayton.
We've come this far.

I'm losing my mind.

Every day a new
piece of it goes,

and soon there'll
be none of it left.

But if you kill me,
death will be bearable.

You could be my
second monster.

Come on.

Please, do it now.

Make me invisible.

[Panting, groaning]

I am not...

Your monster!

[Sobbing]

[Grunts]

[Sobbing continues]

You're a bloody pussycat.

My deepest apologies.

Can you ever forgive me?

No, I suppose not.

[Exhaling]

I've got to go to bed.

Are you OK?

Oh, Clayton.

Do you need some help?

Pray, you undo this button.

I don't seem to be able to
manage it when I'm tired.

Do you believe people come
into our lives for a purpose?

OK, I can manage now.

[Groans] Oh.

When you die, make sure that your
brain is the last organ to fizzle.

You'll feel better tomorrow.

[Grunts]

[Groaning]

Good night.

Good night.

[Exhaling]

[Thunder continues]

[Gunfire, bomb whistling]

[Explosions,
gunfire continues]

[Telephone ringing]

[Snorts, gasps]

Hanna: Hello?

Oh, hello, Mr. David.

No, he did not tell me,
but that's no problem.

I make the breakfast.

Yes, very good.

Good-bye.

[Groans]

Hanna, this is not
what you think it is.

[Shoes land on floor] Aah!

I brought you your clothes.

All I ask is you
get dressed and go.

We have guest for breakfast.

Hanna, I need to talk
to you about Mr. Whale.

There is nothing you could
say would surprise me.

Maybe, but I still need
to talk to you about him.

Let me have a cup of coffee.

[Scoffs] I blame my daughter
for keeping me out so late.

Thank you.

I only hope you did
not get him excited.

You could give him new stroke.

Why do you do it, Hanna?

What I do?

Why do you take care of him

like he was your
own flesh and blood?

It's my job.

I did it when he was happy.
It was easy.

It's only fair I do
it now he is ill.

Oh, enough of this talk.

I must go wake the master.

Mr. Jimmy, good morning.

Mr. Jimmy?

What have you done with him?

You look for him.

I put him to bed last night.

Mr. Jimmy?

Mr. Jimmy!

[Grunting]

Mr. Jimmy!

Crazy son of a bitch!

Oh! No! No! No!

Mr. Jimmy!

Jimmy! Jimmy!

H-He wanted me to kill him,
and then he did it himself!

I didn't do this!

Mr. Jimmy.

It says here, "good-bye."

I find in his room.

Sorry, he says.

He's had wonderful life.

Oh, my Mr. Jimmy.

Poor, foolish man.

[Moaning]

You could not wait for god
to take you in his time?

You must leave.

You were not here
this morning.

Look, I did not do this.

Police will not know that.

They will want to investigate.

W-We got a note.

You want them to question
you about Mr. Jimmy?

Please, Clayton, it's better
that I find the body alone.

How are you gonna explain how
you got him out of the water?

[Muttering in
Scandinavian language]

You're right.

[Sniffles]

Uh, we must put him back.

Wh-uh...

Oh, Mr. Jimmy, we do
not mean disrespect.

You will keep better in water.

[Grunting, groaning]

[Muttering in
Scandinavian language]

[Violin playing]

[Moaning]

[Growls]

[Moaning]

Who are you?

I think you're a
stranger to me.

I cannot see you.

I cannot see anything.

You must please excuse
me, but I'm blind.

[Moans]

Blind man: Perhaps
you're afflicted, too.

We shall be friends.

It's very lonely here,

and it's been a
long time since

any human being
came into this hut.

I shall look after you,
and you will comfort me.

[Monster grunting]

[Blind man laughing]

[Monster growling]

No, no. This is good.

Smoke. You try.

Smoke.

[Blind man laughs]

[Grunting happily]

Good! Good!

[Grunting, chuckling]

I was all alone.

It is bad to be alone.

Alone bad.

Friend good.

Friend good!

[Blind man laughs]

[Orchestra finale]

Time for bed, sport.

[TV off]

What did you think
of the movie?

Pretty cool.

Better than most
monster movies.

Yeah? I knew the
guy who made it.

Come on, dad.

Is this another one
of your stories?

No.

It's the original
sketch of the monster.

Is this for real?

Clay, the trash,
before it rains.

Come on.

[Grunts]

[Thunder rumbling]

Captioning made possible
by Lions Gate Entertainment