All language subtitles for Ilektrikos angelos (Electric Angel).1981.Greece.720p.english

Fafana is a colossal nebula,

whose time of life
is counted in abahadays.

Every abahaday has
12 airzibios.

Each airzibia corresponds to
100 millions years.

Every fourth airzibio of the Abahaday,

a tiny being comes from the
depths of the universe,

whose name is Ahnaris.

He flies for a little while
over Fafana,

and then he says "hfff".

After that he vanishes,
to visit other nebulas

with which
he maybe has similar relation

His "hfff" impregnates
the Fafana

and keeps it in life
forever and ever.

Then it starts to ferment
by orgasm of expectation

and Ahnaris apears on time,
to make "hfff".

Innumerable abahadays
have passed, until now.

But this time,

after Fafana has reached
the limits of its endurance

instead of make a "hfff",

he makes "hthh".

Why? Maybe we will
never know.

Did he do it on purpose?

Unconsciously?

Or because of
a short-circuit?

For Fafana, the consequences
are tragic.

Sharp nebulatic twitch,

which leads to

a kind of unstopable
galactical epilepsy.

As once I wove a garland,

I saw Eros 'mong the roses ;

So by his wings I caught him,

And in my wine I dipp'd him,

And took and fairly drunk him ;

And now my limbs for ever

Are tickled with his pinions,

�s once I wove a garland,

I saw Eros 'mong the roses.

She opened her breast like a fan

and she lied down

when the legends

of the darkest cities rise.

Only a denture rattled

and the present got lost forever.

At his old steps,

remained someting from something else.

The night blew the other branches

and at the root of the tree,

remained ashes.

Prone, and with sugar on the lips

was laid down, on the bright
garland of love.

The call didn't take long to be heard.

The response of the foreign elements
was lost

and with craving, with fragant
seaweed and with brilliant sighs,

she came, unbridled and clean

like a substantial and
sustained nebula.

Now they are both named Meropi.

Karagiozi, the topic is
what is woman.

Hadjiavati, this topic is philosophical,

because, when you ask me
what is woman,

my answer should be
general and vague.

No. The topic is historical

It is philosophical and religious.

Take for example the baker.

Like he makes a nice loaf
from the dough,

so the creator made the woman
from Adam's flank.

So she is a creation.

No. She is an effigy.

What efiggy, you oaf?

-Idol
-What idol?

-A construct.
-What construct?

Evil.

Like my hand and my hump.

-Really?
-Really Hadjiavati.

Woman is evil
and takes thousands of forms

So, isn't she an angel and deity?

She is an evil angel
and deity.

And, as prophets say,

she causes grumble
at the bowels.

Yes Karagiozi.
Woman is a deity,

and thank you for making me
understand it.

You are a good man,
and that's why I told you.

The little girl who excited everyone,
doesn't exist anymore.

She bacame a woman,

and a mother, who feeds a baby.

What are you doing?
-?????

-?????
-Yes. I will explain you.

???

In a way, I beheave like my parents.

their room was made of glass.

When I was a child,
I was wondering as like you.

Now, I understood.

Through glass you observe yourself.

You ask me about

the relation between the glass and the video.

Well, video is a glass too.

You record your behavior,

and you observe it better than in the glass.
Isn't it obvious?

When I saw myself on video
for first time, I found it funny.

Glass is diferent.

More personal.

Is more poetic to have a bath
in front of the video camera.

Why not? It's a habit.

It is a way to see yourself

in everyday life, as you said.

For example when you makeup.

Or even to have a more general view
of what you are.

Through the glass,
you can't observe your beheavor

in its entirety.

With video,

you can record yourself without seeing.

At glass you see your eyes and that's it.

It doesn't allow you natural movements.

So, video is a glass?

Glass. I discovered and realized

what I didn't ever suspect before.

Of course, video is more recent.

But don't believe that glass

has an old history.

We always return to our first loves

We always return to our first loves