All language subtitles for Intimate.Affairs.2001

I don't leave my
house much these days.

I prefer to stay in my study.

I work my mind,

doing my best
to unravel the mysteries.

Actually,
it's not really my house.

I draw from my subconscious
without shame.

Most human contact
seems trivial to me,

unconvincing,
overly sentimental,

especially male contact
with women.

I'm searching for
the purest kind of love

in the opposite sex

and the purest
kind of sex in love.

Where are you going, Chloe?

Where have you been, Edgar,

making love with your fantasies?

You don't think I love you?

You only love ideas.

You're a mental masturbator,

a diamond with a great big flaw.

And I know.

I'm a jeweler.

I didn't mean that.

What part of love
belongs to sexuality?

Sex is the last great
unexplored human mystery.

Lose yourself.

Trees, rocks...

Faster.

What are you talking about?

Cherry pie.

Faster. Oh!

Is there another guy?

Oh, faster!

Oh.

Is there another guy?

Zoe.

Is that him? Just ignore it.

Is that the guy? Faster!

Telephone for you.

It's a man.

Oh.

What's his name?

What's his name?

I don't know.

Hello?

Yes.

To day?

You mean this afternoon?

Yes, I know where that is,
near the university.

What?

No, I'm not married.

Who was that, Zoe?

Him?

I have to work later.

I need to sleep.

Well, you just lost

the best thing
that you ever had.

And I'm never coming back.

Bye—bye.

Working the faldo house?

I'm sorry?

Are you working
at the faldo house?

Yes.

Listed with the agency? Yes.

That's funny. The client didn't
say there'd be somebody else.

Did he say what the subject is?

A discussion between
several men is all I heard.

I hope they're doctors
or professors.

Is that what you're used to,

doctors and professors? Used to?

How fast are you?

How fast?

Oh, 130 shorthand,

you win.

Yes.

Go ahead.

Oh, excuse me.

What is this?

We're the stenographers.

Oh, no, no, no.
This is horrific.

You're very rude.

I'm Oscar, and I'm leaving.

This is very disconcerting.

I'm convinced, somehow,

that you would've stimulated me

into saying something
entirely unforgettable.

I'm sure you'll remember it.

I think you're right.

Oh, excuse me, I—...

Thank you...

For being punctual. Come in.

Everyone's assembled.

Alice? Zoe?

I'm Zoe.

Alice.

Alice.

Wait to be invited.

Alice. Zoe.

If narcissus
stays in the garden,

there will be chaos.

There'll be no more peace,

no escape...

(Edgan Alice, Zoe, come here.

Hysteria. Hysteria.

Monty and Peter.

Monty's a German novelist;

Peter, a former student of mine.

And if the thermometer breaks,
there'll be Mercury.

And sew is
a painter from London.

Memorize their names, please.

What are they doing?

Ah, automatic writing,

direct messages
from the subconscious.

It's one of our
favorite experiments.

We're not transcribing
that kind of stuff, are we?

It's hard enough
when people are awake.

I agree, exactly.

So you are a professor.

Was.

No escape. No solution.

And that day
down by the riverbank,

below the surface,

there was
so many horses went by.

What happened? Was I any good?

Decadent.

Let me guess. Alice.

Zoe.

She knows what she wants.

And it isn't you.

I'm not looking,
or I'd prove you wrong.

A man is always looking.

Careful.

So, sevy, do you
paint that one upside down?

My hand has wings.

It works by itself.

The muse of automatic writing.

What's a muse?

Very good question.

I like her hair
and her little skirt.

I'm glad you approve.

Our investigation
will begin momentarily.

What is this?

Your uniform.

I'm sorry.
We're wearing uniforms?

The search for objective truth
requires certain sacrifices.

But there was no mention
of a uniform.

Feel free to leave.

No, that's fine.

I wonder if we get to keep them.

What do you suppose he meant
by ”certain sacrifices”?

Don't worry.
I think you're right.

They're doctors
or professors or something.

He said ” investigation.“

I hope they don't use
too many technical terms.

Alice? Mm—hmm?

Can you really do 130?

Yes.

I'm only able to do 64,
so mathematically,

I think you should take
three of the men,

and I'll take one,

Peter.

All right, that's fine.

Take your seats.

Alice.

I want this
on the record, please.

You're helping me write
a groundbreaking study.

This group project
marks the first time

that our subject's
been researched

by men other than
individual doctors

or psychoanalysts.

The university,
as well as society,

would frown upon
these undertakings,

so we should keep our sessions
secret until published.

Would you switch seats, please?

Sit here.

I've chosen each of you
because we're closely acquainted

and presumably can be open
with one another.

But we'll need rules,

guidelines, if you like.

Uh, Peter,

you're here to probe
your most intimate relations,

discarding all romantic notions.

Excuse me.

No jokes or slang.

Take a clinical approach
and stick to the concrete.

Oh, and never include
the stenographers

in our discussions.

They're here merely
to record our words

and stimulate
certain intangibles.

Excuse me.

For the record,
I'd like to thank

our host
and loyal patron, faldo,

who might join us later.

So shall we begin?

A man and a woman make love.

To what extent is the man aware
of the woman's orgasm?

Sevy.

Hardly at all.

Any objective ways of telling?

Mystery to me.

Why?

How can a man be objective
about a woman's climax?

You can't, Edgar.

No, not really.

I only have
subjective ways of telling.

Su bj ective ways?

Which I trust to the extent
that I trust the woman involved.

And how much does
Edgar trust a woman?

To the extent
that I love her, monty.

That much?

(Edgan peterm

Peter? What?

How is a woman aware
of a man's orgasm?

I guess when she notices
a change in his posture.

A subjective and useless answer.

Oh, right, so it's okay

for you to be subjective
but not me?

The woman can find out
for herself

by examining the man.

Okay, I've thought about it,

and now I have an answer.

An d?

A man is the best judge
of a man's orgasm.

And a woman?

A woman is the best jury.

No jokes, I said.

Sevy, what do you
think of onanism?

Is it something sad?

Does it imply the lack...

Zoe, what did he say?

Exactly the opposite.

An abundance.

And always accompanied
by images of women.

On giraffes, possibly, sheep...

Puppies.

Animals?

I'm not discussing that.

Diti'o. What?

Afraid of what you might find?

Onanism has to be accompanied
by images of women.

There's nothing sad about it.

It's a legitimate compensation
for some of life's sadnesses.

As legitimate

as homosexuality?

Th ey've nothing in common,

and we're not discussing
homosexuality.

Why not?

If two guys love each other,
let them do it.

No, no, no.

I can accept it,

but I have no interest in it.

Although I can imagine
the idea of going to bed

with a young man I found
particularly attractive.

The heterosexual male point
of view means exactly that.

I insist that this remain
as consistent as possible.

Edgar,

do you often experience
nightly sexual episodes

caused by female fiends?

Fiends, Peter?

You mean the succubus...

The female creature that haunts
life's other side...

Excuse me, I—...

The side that we experience

with our eyes shut.

She's generally described

as physically repulsive
yet strangely beautiful.

No man can resist her advances.

This kind of sex

can't possibly be as good
as with a real woman.

Oh, much better.

I was asking Edgar.

Much better, sevy?

Lack of control, surrender...

Very enticing.

Very, very enticing.

A monster of the mind
is better than a real woman?

Only a pervert would think that.

Or a dreamer.

Or a dreamer.

This must be faldo.

One moment, please.

Ladies.

Erotic art from europe——
Sasha and I bought it.

Shipping it all here.

We can't have the servants
drooling over it

up at our estate
in Montreal, can we?

No, no, you can't.

No.

Dark rumors on wall street.

Got to leave
for Manhattan immediately.

Dire predictions, Edgar.

Plunging stocks,
falling brokers...

Dark rumblings.

It's thrilling times
for us speculators, huh?

Christ, who redecorated,
hieronymus bosch?

Who?

Did you do this, zezzy?

Sevy, and no.

Edgar, you didn't tell me
you had company.

We've begun the investigation
for my manifesto,

than ks to your generosity.

My generosity?

Is that what you think it is,
is generosity?

It's guilt, Edgar, guilt. Guilt.

Say, uh, fellas,

would you remove
some of this junk

off the mantle

so we can get
this painting up there?

Thank you.

Yes, my family

made its money in real estate,

made a killing.

And real estate
is a broad foundation

of most guilt.

So that's why I make
my killing in the arts.

Oh, you kill artists?

No. No, no.

Not exactly.

I just give them loaded weapons

to, uh, play with.

Then if they happen
to expire in the process,

well, it just
raises their value.

Artists are like...

Wanted criminals,

wild animals, trophies.

They're worth more dead
than they are alive.

Sometimes I feel
like a criminal animal,

Billy the kid gloves.

(Edgan gentlemen, this is faldo,

a genuine patron of the arts.

You know sevy. This is Peter.

Oh.

Sir, I think your
painting is marvelous.

I'm a novelist from Germany.

I work in sports.

I'm Zoe.

She's Alice.

Hello, ladies.

Oh.

Hello, Zoe.

Hello, Alice.

So...

What subject you investing in?

Investigating, faldo. Sex.

Beg your pardon?

For my book, the one
I wrote you about,

researches into male sexuality.

What are the ladies doing here
if it's male sexuality?

They're missing
the vital organ, Edgar.

We're muses.

Muses. Oh, muses.

You know, Edgar,
I always suspected

you got canned
from the university

for fooling around
with young coeds.

Now I'm sure of it.

I've never fooled around.

Each time, I was quite serious.

You've always
been quite serious.

Nothing much has changed.

Well, please, please, please,

continue your inspection
or your interrogation

or whatever you're calling it.

I'm just gonna admire
my painting before I go.

It's just——
It's beautiful, isn't it?

She's beautiful. Yes.

Can I give you my card?
No, no, no.

Thank you, sir.

Zezzy... sevy.

Are you still painting
these little wormlike figures?

Don't you think you ought
to change your style, grow?

Sew! Gentlemen,
should we continue?

Monty, please be seated.
Monty, please.

Edgar. What?

Is a woman's orgasm
more intense than a man's?

More evanescent.

Evan escent?

Jesus, Edgar,

you use words like that
in the book,

and nobody's gonna
understand you.

How do you know
something like that?

I don't know that,
and I've got more experience

than all of you put together.

Join us, faldo.

You might find it therapeutic.

Oh, no, no, no.

I get my kicks in the market

with the bulls and the bears.

Unfortunately, we've excluded
bestiality as a topic.

Oh, well, don't mind me.

A man is more violent...

Than a woman...

And so is his orgasm.

I've heard that a woman's

can be deeper and longer.

Sounds like you boys
really know your stuff

listen to this, Mr. Faldo.

Sevy, when you're with a woman,

what is your
favorite place to caress?

Well, I like to do

everything possible
with the anus.

Oh, Jesus!

What's wrong with you?

Zezzy... sevy.

All right, sevy.

You do love women, don't you?

Yes, of course.

Well, how do you figure
your taste for buggery?

Taste for buggery?

Sodomy with a woman
is a delicacy...

Oh, so appealing.

Well, I—...

Well, if you ask me,

you buy into buggery,
the bottom drops out.

Ha—ha.

Well, I'm sorry to leave

this naughty liti'le
sewing circle, but I—...

So you won't participate?

Mr. Faldo?

Do you think you could
learn anything from this?

Oh, no, no, no.

I doubt it, no.

How can you be so sure?

Because my women
are satisfied already.

Every one,

every time,

guaranteed.

How do you know that?

I know what females like.

What do females like?

Well, they—...

They like, uh,

a man who knows what he's doing.

And they like him

to go slow, not to rush things.

But most important, gentlemen,

they like him to know

about the little man
in the boat.

You mean the c—c—c—...

Clitoris?

You always know where it is?

What are you really doing
in there, Edgar?

I explained it all in my letter.

You sent word that you approved.

I never read mail
unless I can cash it.

We're doing research.

Research?
On who, those two dollies?

I don't want to leave
the subject of sex

only to Freud and his cohorts.

My goal is an absolute reality

in the interpretation
of one's own thoughts.

You're right, Edgar, right.

This penis envy
and wanting to have sex

with your mother,
it's ridiculous.

But the important thing is,

who's your audience
for the book?

Every intelligent man

interested
in the mystery of sex.

Oh, you think intelligence

has something
to do with sex, huh?

Well, pictures—...

Are you gonna
have pictures, photos?

Well, maybe Oscar will do some.

Oh, that's good.

That's good, because sex sells.

And if it's any good,
we'll publish it at faldo press.

Oh.

And I'll give you 1/2 of 1%...

N et.

I'm overwhelmed.

Keep an eye out
for those paintings.

They'll look good in the book.

Let's go. Yes, sir.

I will never subject myself

to such perversion again.

Who are you kidding?

You liked it.

No, they're lewd and disgusting.

See, you were interested.

No, I wasn't.

I'm a professional; I do my job.

But not here.

This whole place
makes me uncomfortable.

And that man who owns the house,
faldo, he's a bully.

Very naughty.

Chloe told me
what happened, Edgar,

that she's moved out.

Makes her available
to come back to me.

Wasn't she always?

Did you tell him
you want Chloe back?

He knows.

He's worried, insanely jealous.

I wonder if our girls
undress for him

or give him kisses.

I'd hate that.

Excellent.

Very good material.

Next session
is Thursday at 4:00.

Yes.

I'll make sure
there are no interruptions.

Alice, you're blushing.

No, I'm not.
It's just hot in here.

Why did we get into this
in the first place?

Faldo. Exactly.

Plus, look at the girls.

It's worth it.

They're so delicious.

So Alice?

I told you, I'm not interested
in anyone but Chloe, okay?

I'm meeting her right now.

Fine, I'd take Zoe too.

Monty, do you know
where the clitoris is?

The clitoris?

Who cares?

Oh.

Academics.

Like to have a cup
of tea with me, Zoe?

Can't. Roger gets angry
when I'm late.

He'll never leave me, though,

no matter what
I put him through.

He's predictable, really.

But like they were saying today,

you just have to keep
trying new ways, right?

Oh, I suppose—— yes, yes.

If you can't do it,

you might as well
hear about doing it

until you can do it.
What do you mean?

I'm just glad
you're coming back.

Yes, well, e—each young man
appears to be very frank

and——and, well...

Sexy?

No, desperate, actually.

I'll see you next week.
It's been swell.

Obsession about sex,

because you don't
know anything about sex.

I know just as much as
Edgar about sex, don't I?

No, you know,

but it's fine.

You know, it's just that...

It's a misunderstanding.

You think he's better than me?

Aren't I as good as him?

Do you prefer being
in bed with him?

It was your first time,
and I was barely conscious.

What do you expect?

You weren't that drunk.

So you like peeping
as much as transcribing.

You are a strange bird.

What are you doing?

Your lips, they really quiver.

Maybe your lips
need to be kissed.

Yours ought to be sealed.

I won't tell anyone
you were watching.

What?

I'm not a virgin!

Shut up! You're mad!

I'm notavirgin!
You're embarrassing me.

I'm not a virgin!

You're not going there.

No, no, no, please.

Please, please, I'm so sorry.

Kiss me, kiss me.

Why not come out
of your cage, little bird?

Just promise me you won't...

Marry me; Marry me.

Are you crazy?

Okay, we're
going to get arrested.

Okay, now...

This session will
take place in this room today.

Gentlemen, lend a hand, please.

I hope the rain doesn't cause
too much of a distraction.

Pity that Oscar and I
missed the first session.

The subject is far from
exhausted, lorenz.

What?

There you go.

"A man and a woman make love.

”How often can they arrive

at orgasm simultaneously?"

Your shorthand
is quite lovely, Alice.

"And is such
simultaneity desirable?"

Or even necessary, I could add.

What do you think, Oscar?

Desirable, indispensable,
commendable, if not necessary.

Well, how frequently for you?

75%.

You and a woman climax in unison

75% of the time?

Couldn't be.

It'd have to be 80%.

Well, I have neither the mental
nor the physical capacity

to delay my own orgasm,

which makes it impossible
to discuss percentages.

Perhaps 1%.

Making love with a woman:
Is a game whose object

is to arrive at orgasm together.

Gentlemen. Yeah, we're
finished in that room.

We're gonna patch in here now.

We're conducting

a very serious discussion
in this room.

We don't patch that ceiling,

y'all going to be swimming.

We ain't going to bother nobody.

Nobody.

Well, if you insist.

To what extent is the man's
erection necessary

in the accomplishment
of the sexual act?

Oh,

thank you. Lorenz?

I've never experienced anything

but a semi—erection.

Do you regret that?

I don't regret it any more

than being unable to lift pianos

or walk on water.

When making love,
a third person,

is this a hindrance?

I think another woman
might be welcome.

A voyeur might be nice.

I'd even like to be one myself.

You'd like to watch, sew?

Yes. If they were both
very beautiful, yes.

What if it was your wife
you were watching?

Oh, I only find her
beautiful in the dark.

Is she that ugly?

No.

Edgar, what's your position
on themenage a trois?

I do not like the presence
of a third person.

I believe that love

is made by two people

in different kinds of solitude.

Mm, zombies.

Can't you people
go to another room?

We got some work to
do. Yeah, we got work to do.

Edgar, what do you think
about having sex with one woman

whilst you're
in love with another?

When I love a woman,
I don't look at others.

Bollocks.

Do you even know what it means
to love a woman, Peter?

You can't define
a mystery like that

at the drop of a hat.

Monty?
I've never fallen in love.

I've had to settle
for making it.

I know when I'm in love,

when my hand would rather
caress crevices

than canvases.

Curious. No one here can say
what it means to love a woman.

It's to see her
as the unique preoccupation

of one's life...

I'm sorry.

A preoccupation
above all others.

Or an invitation
to mutual exploration

seized during moments
of visual emotional contact

accompanied by the removal
of any artificiality...

That sounds to me like
you're describing photography.

And sometimes accompanied
by a flash of light.

What if she's faking?

Who's faking?
The woman you're with.

I don't trust women,
but it's like poker.

I don't care if they cheat
as long as I win.

If a woman is pretending

in order to give
a man satisfaction,

well, that's not
cheating in my book.

And you, Edgar?

The day I stop trusting a woman,
I stop loving her.

There's nothing that can be said

about physical love

until we can start from the fact

that men and women
have equal rights in it.

Has anyone here
claimed otherwise, lorenz?

Everything I've heard so far
seems to be dominated

by this male point of view.

Left to themselves, men tend
to suffer from gross myopia.

Bollocks. You must continue
to grace these sessions.

Oscar's the one.

When he looks at me,
I get so nervous.

I can't even flirt properly.

Have you noticed monty's legs?

He'd be the bee's knees
standing ur

don't be vulgar, Zoe.

I've seen the way
he looks at you.

Tell me you haven't
thought about

his legs wrapped
around you like...

If I think of monty at all,

it's only
in a professional manner.

Oh, come here, my
littlefraulein. Zoe.

Monty, monty! Zoe, please.

I like the way Edgar
fights off his challengers.

His dedication is heroic.

He's just freeloading off faldo.

He hasn't even got a job.

I heard it's true, you know.

He was kicked out
of the university

for having several affairs.

Apparently, he brought up sex
right there in literature class.

Well, he's an idealist.

I'm sure he's not completely
comfortable with people.

He's got secrets

he'd never share with any woman.

Excuse me.

There's a small bonus
for the added participants.

Hope it wasn't too painful
on your fingers.

Her fingers can take
a lot more than that.

Until tomorrow at noon.

Thank you.

By the way, you two are invited

to a screening
of Oscar's new films

at the library tonight

on the back stairway.

I'll just, uh, make a note.

You're beautiful.

That was better than sex.

The fantastic in reality
is the whole reality.

Oh, yes, it is.

What is it?

Oh.

Play it again.

Play it again.

Show it again! Show it again!

I will not play it again.

Boo. Why not?

Because I have another one
to show you first.

Hooray!

Oscar, my wife thought your film
better than fudge sundae,

didn't you, Janet?

Yes, it was like Chestnut cream.

Chestnut cream?

Yes, images like this

you have to force people
to swallow.

Yes, she really got it,
didn't she?

My dear, you've gotten more
than I could've ever hoped.

Excuse me.

Oscar, another triumph.

And where is faldo?

I need him to like it, Edgar,

especially the next one

and the one I haven't made yet.

They'll be here soon.
And don't worry.

I'll tell him
how much he enjoyed it.

Yes, how much he enjoyed it
and how little...

How little he spent on it.

It cost him. Smashing, Edgar.

Very, very good.

This is Janet.

Yes, hello.

You were exquisite.

How about me?

Who are you?

Oh, butcher.

Funny. Very funny.

Oh, sevy.

You can't face
your true feelings, Chloe.

Edgar—— what?

I mean, Peter—...

You see, you're
confusing me again.

I face my feelings
all the time, all right?

I just—...

Can we just forget about this

and remember when
things were good?

I don't know how
you can be so nostalgic

when you're so willing
to forget everything.

Did you call me Edgar?

No.

Edgar, I wanted to ask
about your stenographers,

Alice in particular.

No, they're not our subjects.

No, not directly, but...

Come.

I'll have you know that
I spent the rest of my day

with the lovely scent
of Alice upon my hand.

And I tell you,
it allowed me to masturbate

in a way I haven't
masturbated for years.

I mean, I should've been
arrested for how I abused myself

then you're disqualified from any
further participation. Oh, nonsense.

You tell me you haven't had similar
thoughts concerning this girl.

You can't distort this work

with your personal
obsessions, lorenz.

Isn't that exactly
what you're doing?

And besides, I tend
to see sexuality as personal.

It's what part of love
belongs to sexuality.

I see.

So you're saying
you won't venture

into Alice's little wonderland

until you're madly
in love with her?

Excellent, Oscar.

Thank you, my friend.

My dear,
are you attracted to negros?

Oh, thank you.

She's delightful.

Enjoying yourselves?

Yes, thank you.

I find modesty in a woman
to be very attractive.

Was that a compliment?

You two, you have all the drama
of a coitus interruptus.

Go away, monty.

Look, if you're having troubles,

just blame it all on Edgar.

I'll even do it for you.

Edgar, come here for a second.

I've got to talk to you.

Monty. Monty.

Edgar!

It's going to be fun, I promise.

Hello, monty. This is Janet.

We're married.

Nice to meet you, Janet.

Hello.

Oh, no.

Did you enjoy the film?

I haven't seen it.

I was on the loo. Oh.

Listen, Edgar,

we've been talking
about what lorenz said today,

that we need a female
perspective in our discussions.

No, bad idea. It's a good idea.

I volunteer jan et.

She said she'd like to join.

No, I never said that, sevy.

Didn't you?
I'd be too intimidated.

Don't be shy. We keep
it small, no strangers.

No, I'm not shy.
No, she's not shy.

Timid, perhaps,
but definitely not shy.

I'm not timid either.

But as a woman, I might
confuse sex with love.

Edgar's doing that already.

So what do you think, Edgar?

Should we invite this
lovely creature to join us?

I think you should
drop the matter.

He's right.
I'd feel so inferior.

Jan et?

Intellectually speaking.

Don't worry about that.

Some people may
have better sex than others,

but they aren't any experts.

Right, Edgar?

I think anyone
could be an expert

on the subject of sex,

sharp as a diamond.

Yet is a single flaw enough

to discount the value
completely?

That make you feel
like a big man?

I'm not good with people, Peter.

That was a totally
inappropriate thing to say.

Then he shouldn't have asked.

Maybe I should ask you
to step outside.

You want to go
look at the stars?

You have the most
beautiful eyes in the world.

It was stupid.

Good evening, faldo.

Sasha, how are you?

Edgar.

Oh, yeah,
it was tedious, darling.

You should have been there.

Blood in the gutters
out there, Edgar.

Blood in the gutters.

Dark rumblings.

May I take that for you?
There we go.

Wh ew!

There's just been
a slight delay on those—...

These boys...

Are investigating
the dark continent of sex.

Oh, that's my favorite subject.

The heterosexual male
point of view.

It was my
first lesson in school.

But we're
conducting the investigation,

bit of a clinical setting.

Clinical?

Edgar, you taken up gynecology?

I'm going to go see
about Oscar's sprockets.

I'll be...

Take your coat off.

Everybody be quiet, please.

I think the maestro

wants to say a couple of words.

Oh, Joey.

Um, yes, um...

Give me your hand.

My next film... Oscar.

Lights.

Oh.

Zoe?

Hm?

How many men
have you known all together?

I've lost count.

Really?

Excuse us.

I wonder if that's
the speakeasy.

The laundry?

Would you like to go in?

They know me.

No! I mean, I don't even drink.

Of course not, silly.

It's illegal.

Alice?

I'm sorry?

What's the first thing
you look at

when you look at a man?
The eyes?

Oh, yes, his eyes, yes.

Mm—hmm, their eyes.

Do you ever look
at their behind,

just when they're walking?

Why did you become
a stenographer?

Why do you think?

To be a writer?

Not exactly.

Oh, well, that's
what happened to me.

But the more
I started transcribing

other people's stories,
the more I realized

I didn't have any
of my own, so...

I did it to meet boys.

Oh. Mm—hmm.

Boys are the reason
why I've done most things.

I haven't lost count.

I'm sorry?

Of men.

There's only been three.

And enough sex for 33.

Really?

I love it,
and I'm not embarrassed

just because I'm a girl.

Zoe?

Hm?

You've had three more men
than I've had.

I thought so.

You're very lucky.

Lucky?

I feel like a fool
most of the time.

I'm a freak, an outcast.

I'm a virgin, Zoe.

They're giving you an education,

and they're paying you for it.

Yes, well,

I certainly hope
I graduate one day.

Where you been?

Where have you been?

Roger.

Where you been?

Contemplating
the mysteries of raw meat.

I knew it. What?

You're picturing someone else.

Mm, commendable, recommendable,

if not necessary.

Making love to you
is just a game.

A game whose object it is
to reach orgasm together.

Love means a man and woman
wanting to settle down,

have children,
and grow old together.

When they do sex, they do it
as Adam and Eve did it,

straight, simple, safe.

Someone made you sick, Zoe,

filled your head
with twisted ideas.

You had a good thing,
and you lost it.

(Edgan Peter.

Thank you. We're ready to begin.

Peter.

Zoe, I like your hair
and your blouse.

Thank you. Sevy.

Pants.

Sevy, be seated.

Who said you could wear pants?

You look so lovely. Danke.

Bitte.

You look lovely too.

But, then, you always do.

You're wearing lipstick.
It's nice.

Thank you. Ready to begin.

First question:

Gentlemen, describe
your first time.

How old were you, and where
was your mother at the time?

Oh, shit.

Sasha, good afternoon.

Good? What's good about it?

Edgar, sit down.

Gossip or whatever it is
you're doing.

I need my medicine.

Bad news makes me sick.

Bad news, Sasha? What happened?

Have to ask faldo, if he hasn't
already jumped out a window.

Sasha, it's me.

Edgar, it's me, Sasha.

Are we in the dark here?

No. I got bad news.

I mean, really bad new—...

What the hell
are you looking at?

Never seen
a thirsty woman before?

Uh...

Boo!

Do you think she's drunk?

I think that's the least
of her problems.

Zoe, I really like what you
did with your blouse today.

It's just the three
buttons. You could do it.

Oh, no, I couldn't possibly.
Do you think I could?

I think Edgar would like it.

Would he?

Men are simple, Alice.

Now, come on.

All right.

Sasha, we're going
right back in there.

Well, come on.

Oh.

Now, tell them.

My confusion is exceeded
only by my hangover.

Sasha. Babe, what?

Sweeth eart,
you know what to say.

I apologize.

Cheer up, girls.

Fine. Fine.

Fellas, help me
with this, will you?

Let's take it in this room.

Sir.

It'll look best in here.

Our session's taking...

Let's find a place
where we can hang it.

Yeah, right there on the mantle.

Get zezzy off of there.

Sevy, and no,
I'm not coming down.

Zezzy, get down.

No, I won't. Come down.

Grab your equipment.

Is she from Brooklyn?

I thought she was Russian.

Get off me! Get off! Get off!

Stop it! Get off! Fine.

All right, let's
get these paintings down.

Philistine!

Bourgeois!

It doesn't iviatter,

because my art will live on,

and you're just a bunch
of imperialist, philistine,

bourgeois shits.

Excuse me.

Sorry.

Gentlemen.

Gentlemen,

if those boys on wall street
are telling me the truth,

the only thing I haven't
lost is my manhood.

Serves you right.

So whose deal?

Does this mean
you've finally decided

to join our discussion, faldo?

Sure. Why not?

I might learn something.

So how you play this game?

Just tell secrets?

All right, fine.

My introduction to sex
came about through a relation,

a very close relation,
when I was 14.

It lasted almost a year.

She was young, very young.

I watched her
since the day she was born.

How young was she?

Mere child.

She had brown hair,
sturdy legs for her age,

all four of them.

An animal?

Faldo, we
discussed bestiality briefly

in an earlier session,
and since everyone said

they had no tendency toward it—...

I made no such declaration.

Most everyone.

We decided there
was no point pursuing it.

Well, there is now.

Let me tell
you fellows something.

I have a vast collection of art

which is dismissed
as pornographic.

But all through history,

there are images of human beings

copulating
with every known species.

Books had illustrations in them,

hand—drawn illustrations,

of people having sex,
masturbation,

and everything else.

So don't forget, gentlemen...

Psst. Yes?

First and foremost,

the human being is an animal.

Mr. Faldo, sir,

what kind of species
was this one,

you r partn er?

A female donkey.

Oh.

Faldo, describe the situation
as precisely as possible.

Well, I would put
a harness on her

and lead her into the woods.

And when I would
take off her harness,

it was like stripping
the clothes off of someone.

And then I'd indulge my passion
through a handkerchief.

What was the donkey's attitude?

Well, she liked it,

I mean, the first few times,

and then she wouldn't—...

She wouldn't allow it.

I guess I wasn't her type.

Um, excuse me.

Mm—hmm?

What position did you use?

You stood on top
of something, I expect.

No, no, no.

I was tall for my age,

so we were a perfect match,
height—wise.

Oh, that's good. Yeah.

What emotions
did you feel after the act?

What did I feel afterward?

I was perplexed,
at first, anyway.

And then I was
frightened to death

that my old man would find out.

But I just couldn't stop.

I mean, I couldn't stop.

Can anyone stop when it comes
to sexual gratification?

And why this particular animal?

Well, because she was
the one I saw most often,

Tuesdays and Thursdays
on my way home from school.

Though there was
a goat on Wednesday,

and I climbed the fence,
and I ran after him,

but he was too fast.

Zoe.

Are you sick, young lady?

Sore throat.

I'm sorry.

If I told you

what I've done with women,

you would probably
get pneumonia.

Sevy, I'm sorry

about giving you hell
for buggery the other day.

That's all right, I suppose.

You've inspired me to relate

that I had pleasure
several times

with a puppy when I was a youth.

A dog, sew?

I let him nip my private parts.

I became very, very aroused.

Good Christ, sevy.

Well, I'm glad you said that.

Now it makes me feel
that I'm not alone in this.

Yes.

Ver —— it was very pleasant,

very pleasant indeed.

No man of character
would have sexual intercourse

with an animal.

You might be right, son.

Because for me,
to be perfectly frank,

a donkey is just

a dumb fucking ass.

Oh, you fell for it, didn't you?

What?

You went right along with it.

You should've seen your faces.

You should've seen your faces.

No cause for alarm, ladies.

This was just a test.

A test.

Are you saying that
you've been putting us on?

Oh, there's no harm
in a joke, Edgar.

These sessions require
you tell the truth, faldo.

Oh, the truth.

I've seen the truth, Edgar,
and it doesn't make any sense.

That may be your viewpoint,

but you can't influence
the others with it,

not in my research.

Your research, maybe.

But my house.

Now, relax.

We got zezzy there—...

Sevy.

To tell about
his shaggy dog story.

That'll help your research.

Oh, woof, woof, woof.

Look, Edgar,
ask me one of your questions,

and I promise you
a straight answer.

Ask one that's
really important to you,

the most important.

What's the matter?

Afraid the question
might reveal too much?

There's one question
that's above all others.

Which is?

What does faldo think
about the succubus?

The what?

An imaginary female demon.

Edgar's obsessed with it.

The succubus isn't
an imaginary creature.

I've experienced her visits
many times at night.

In fact,

I look forward to them.

He's in love with her.

I know what
you're talking about.

You mean a creature
that sneaks in on you

and steals your seed.

Well, I've known
plenty of those.

For Christ's sake,
I'm married to one.

We don't know her.

And we don't solicit her.

Convinced she intends
no harm to her victims...

Unless he resists.

And that's your most
important question, Edgar?

Some sexual compulsion
for a female myth?

This concerns
deep psychic energy.

It's sexual voltage.

But it's not real.

She's not imaginary.
Do you understand?

I understand, Edgar.

It's rewarding to love
the whore of your mind,

isn't it?

But only if

she drives you
back to real women.

Some women
are more real than others,

wherever they appear.

Perhaps she's trying
to rescue you, Edgar.

Or perhaps Edgar's
afraid of real women.

Well, Edgar,
just how far will you go?

Just how dark will it get?

That's a good question, Edgar,

really good question.

Maybe this bizarre sexual
creature of yours will turn you

into something really ugly,
unfit for society.

Edgar the criminal.

But what if she
exists only to warn him,

to drive him back
into the real world

of flesh and blood?

No, no, no, no, no, no.

It's quite simple.

All men are in love
with this creature.

And she, quite naturally,
is in love with all men.

Well...

Love is a bolt from the blue,

isn't it?

I'm sorry for bothering you.

Did you forget something?

Well, no.

Actually, I was wondering
if I might be able

to look at that book
of engravings.

Why?

Well, I was curious about them

and thought perhaps
you wouldn't mind if I—...

Come in. Yes, okay.

You know where it is, Alice.

Yes, I found them
very compelling.

They are very compelling.

Yes, I've never seen anything
quite like them before.

Are you interested in the
nocturnal side of eroticism?

Faldo brought up
animal eroticism today.

What did you think of that?

I thought it was
rather distasteful.

I've thought about it.

I've come
to several conclusions.

May I hear them?

I'll just—...

Excuse me.

I must congratulate myself

on encountering
the perfect muse.

Oh, well, it was
a chance encounter.

All that's marvelous
in life happens by chance,

don't you think?
Well, I suppose—...

Man's libido differs
from animal sexuality

in that it calls
his whole being into question.

I'm not much
of an expert on the subject.

Yes...

But you have desires,
aspirations.

Everyone does.

I liked what
you said about destiny.

As I look at you now, Alice,

I'm reminded
of the amorous radiance

in every young woman.

I'm afraid I'm not very good
at receiving compliments.

I haven't
tried to know you, Alice.

Yet in some surreal way,
I sense you, as in a dream,

a visitation.

I've always cherished my dreams.

I hope so.

As a little girl,
I couldn't wait to fall asleep

so I could enter the dreamland.

Things in dreams
are so much more natural

and appealing to me
than what happens in real life.

I —...

I haven't asked you
to expose yourself, Alice.

No, you haven't.

Edgar, my friend.

Lorenz.

I have something
of some importance to ask you.

Do I have a choice?
No, you don't.

And I'm not staying.

Oh, by the way, while I'm here,

I wanted to suggest
something to you—...

No, I think demand—...

That for your next session

you invite a candid,
uninhibited, desirable—...

Excuse me. Thank you.

Good—bye.

Wo man.

Tell me I'm
interrupting something.

Oscar, do I look the way
you wanted me to?

Well, you're in
my portfolio, aren't you?

Zoe.

Oscar.

What a surprise.

Hello.

Oscar?

I'm sorry. Linda, this is Zoe.

Zoe is Edgar's associate.

She's helping him
survey sexual attitu des.

I bet she is.

Actually, I just
write down what they say.

I model for Oscar—...

I think you
underestimate yourself

I think at the very least,
you keep everyone's attention

properly focused.

Nude.

Nothing but pictures
of me and my body.

All for sale?

Was that an insult?

No, no, no, Linda.

Zoe was just pointing out
that in photography,

as you, yourself,
are a gorgeous example,

the successful marketing—...

Can I tell you
that I loved your films?

Yes, please.

I found them very,
very enticing.

Thank you very, very much.

What are you doing right now?

Me? Yes.

Nothing. I'm going home.

Can I tell you, your hair,
by the way—...

I love what you've done—...

Was I rude? I think so.

Mm.

Tell me something.

Yes?

Edgar's sessions...

What about Edgar's sessions?

We should film them.

Edgar's sessions...

You mean an all—talking picture?

All—singing, all—dancing.

It really doesn't matter.

I like this idea.

You like it?

Would this be endorsing
Edgar's rules, Edgar's methods?

What do you mean?

I mean, don't you think
if you have to explain—...

If you try to explain
how to make love like Edgar,

I don't think
you know how to make love.

And if you do know
how to make love—...

You probably don't
want to explain it.

Don't want to explain it.

Or maybe you shouldn't
be able to explain it,

how to make love.

And sound might be a problem.

It doesn't iviatter
what they say.

It's what they don't say.

It's what they hide.

Words are just masks anyway.

And I could be your assistant.

And you could be my assistant.

Yes. Do you have—...

And would you please be my
assistant beginning right now?

Hold still.

What about love itself?

And what about love itself?

If you could make
a picture of that,

you'd be very successful.

I think I already have.

What?

I think you've
stimulated me beyond images.

We should play
at something else.

Oscar?

What?

Is this another game?

This is the most
serious game of all.

When you define something,
create something for us, only—...

Oscar?

Yes?

Promise me something.

Yes.

Whether this lasts or not,

you'll never try
and explain it to anybody.

Doesn't Alice look beautiful?

Ready.

Do certain images
come to mind during desire?

Faldo?

Faldo. Care to answer
the question?

Oh, images during desire.

Well, give me a piece of paper
and I'll doodle for you.

Sevy?

What?

Save us.

Well, it's never
one single image.

The last time,
it was underwater imagery,

very nautical.

Nautical?

I imagined mermaids
with their scaly behinds.

I imagined hovering
over giant oysters,

many, many oysters,
waiting to swallow me,

and flippers.

Chloe, what about you?

What about—...

Do you want to be included?

Well, I don't think you can ask
the same question of women.

Their minds are not
like glass—bottom boats.

In any case, my images
aren't physical ones.

I have an image.

Describe it. Describe it.

Someone blonde,
slim, distinguished,

different from me.

Different from her husband too.

Ow.

I can't help it.

Oh, no. It's not my fault.

I always imagine a woman
I want to sleep with.

I imagine the gasp
that she makes.

A woman fully clothed
who says nothing at all.

She wears perfumed gloves,
though, sometimes.

Chloe's face.

The most direct—...

What the hell's
that mean, Sasha?

It means

that you like to see
what you're getting into,

and I like to see
what's getting into me.

Move over.

Now, what if I were to sa ——
And sometimes, only sometimes,

when we're together,
I'm imagining another woman?

Well, I might be
imagining the same woman.

What are you
trying to say, sash?

What trying?

What trying?

What are you trying to say?

Listen, Edgar instructed
us to follow the rules.

And I'm following the rules. And
you got to play by the rules too.

I never follow
the damn rules any time.

And we suddenly find ourselves
in complete financial ruin.

Oh, bullshit!
We're not in financial ruin!

We've got that estate
up in Montreal,

faldo studios in Hollywood,

tax write—offs.

Get the hell out of here!

We've got those
sexual paintings.

They're the greatest
paintings in the world.

Oh, I hate those. W—w—what—...

We have nothing.
We have paintings!

What part of the body
most excites you, faldo?

If you don't mind.

What part of the body?

Yeah, see, we're going to talk
about something else now.

We're not going
to talk about anything.

Now, sit down, Sasha.
Oh, goddamn it, you.

Now, sit down. I'm not going—...

Sit down!

Uh!

All right.

Edgar,

what gets you started?

Get out of here.

I can't stand you.
I cannot stand you.

A woman's desire.

Dreams, of course.

Cleavage in
a very low—cut dress.

Buttocks.

The eyes.

The eyes,

Chloe's eyes.

Beautiful, sensuous,

loving eyes.

The eyes are the most sexual.

No, the sex is the most sexual.

For god's sake, a woman's sex.

That is so true.

A man is an animal
looking to drop his seed

in some warm female belly.

That's right.

Dear, did you tell them

about the time
you seduced the mule?

Shh, Sasha.

He said it was a joke.

Well, of course he did.

Y—you mean, it wasn't a joke?

Well, how can you do that?
It's disgusting.

I thought the whole
episode was rather sweet.

It's sickening. What mule?

He had sexual intercourse
with a donkey.

You mean he put his cock
in a donkey's pussy?

What?

Sex is in the groin
of the beholder.

I like a woman's breasts
when her nipples are hard,

especially a beautiful woman
whose nipples I'm about to lick

or suck.

In other words, you love
to arouse a woman.

What about you? Oscar?

Yes.

What about me?

I believe the question was,
what arouses you, Oscar?

For me, it's something
completely indefinable.

It's her expression, suggestion,

sensuality, eyes.

But the thought
of a woman's orgasm,

this is the most
important thing.

Well put.

Sex.

Who likes to see the sex?

I like to look at mine
when I'm alone...

With an erection.

Yes.

Well, aren't we
all great masturbators?

This is turning
into something else here.

Sensuality
has a light all its own.

It glows, and it radiates.

It's always pure.

Oh, excuse me.

Sex is only pure with someone
I love, who I'm with,

someone I love.

I thought this was

an investigation
of sex, not love.

That's what I was afraid of,

confusing the two.

Monty, let's go to the bar.

We've been married 20 years.

Well, you know,
I am not confused.

When I think of having sex,
most men are the same.

Love, however, is my delusion

that one man
is different from another.

Yes, I meant my own confusion.

You're confused
about love too, Janet?

Oh, it's confusing.
Are you kidding?

Me too.

I know that it should be fun,

at least as fun as sex
when sex is fun.

Sex can be fun.

Love mostly...

Hurts. Yes.

I don't know
what to do about it.

It's vicious.

It's scarier.

It's a nightmare.

So sex is only pure
with someone you love, huh?

You've never had sex
with someone you didn't love?

I've never slept with a woman

I didn't believe I could love.

Naturally, I've been
mistaken a time or two.

Is it always mental
with you, Edgar, even sex?

I've told you,
I'm not looking for lovemaking.

I'm looking for a woman to love.

If you had a choice

between sexual pleasure——
Accompanied with love

that you could satisfy
right now, immediately—...

Or mental satisfaction,
which would you choose?

There's no choice.

Desire accompanied by love

would give me
complete satisfaction.

I'd be willing to surrender
my freedom for it.

Even to something inhuman?

I'm looking for something
that hasn't happened before

and never will again.

Well, I just want
the ultimate sexual thrill,

because there's something

between a man and a woman.

And it's this tremendous
physical attraction.

And when I'm with a woman,

I get more excitement
and satisfaction

than money

or art or anything in the world

could possible give me.

If you love her.

I love faldo so much sometimes
I could kill him.

I mean, I would gladly
see him dismembered.

Sasha, that's awful.

I know it's awful,

but he does awful things to me.

Perhaps you can only
love a man if you hate him.

I wish that wasn't true.

But why is it?

Because love is warfare.

I got to get back.

Sasha's going to cut off
my ultimate sexual thrill.

So did you
ladies learn anything?

Did you learn anything, ladies?

Does sevy ever tell you

what an attractive woman
you are?

He paints me as a ghoul.

But to sevy,
everything is monstrous.

Here you go. Oh, yeah.

This is ridiculous.

I don't think you can
investigate sex or love

like it was some
kind of experiment.

At last, a human voice is heard.

You still afraid
of experimentation, Chloe?

No, Edgar, not if it's romantic.

Romance is false.

It's delusional.

Let's get out of here.

Okay.

Edgar, you're just upset

because Chloe doesn't
love you anymore,

if she ever did.

Peter, it's not
for you to talk about.

No, I want to talk about it.

Edgar, you don't know how
to romance a woman, but I do.

When I love a woman,
I need something

more substantial than romance.

How do you know?
You never loved.

You don't respect anyone,
Edgar, especially women.

Respect has to be earned
in women as in men.

If you mean me,
just say it to my face.

I've nothing to say to a man
who's had sex once.

I didn't say anything.

Uh! Uh!

Oh! Ah!

Get in.

Go where? Get in.

Now. I want it now!

What are you doing?

I want to make love with you.

Like this? Yes, yes.

I want to make love to you.

No, no, no. Yes.

It doesn't work like this.
Turn around.

What are you doing?

I want to make love to you.

Like this? Yes.

But I've—— I've never, never—...

Are you faking?

Can I trust you? It's important.

Don't fake.

Shut up!

Somebody's in a hurry.

Oh, babe.

You can keep the painting.

Peter.

You all right?

Edgar, I'm so sorry.

I'm so sorry, Edgar.

I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.

I hurt you, didn't I? Probably.

Well, you'll get used to it.

You all right?

Chloe? What?

Marry me. What?

Marry me, Chloe.

(Edgan I'm sorry

to have wasted
your time with this.

I don't feel as though
I'm wasting it.

Marry me; Marry me;
Marry me; Marry me.

Oh, shh.

Was that a yes?

I don't... know.

"I don't know" or "no"?

Oh, babe.

Maybe this is
an appropriate time

to terminate this.

Why don't you have Oscar
take a picture?

It'll last longer.

Believe me, sev,
your marriage is a mess.

It didn't mix with my research.

Oh, yes, it did.

Probing our
most intimate behavior,

exploring each
of our darkest secrets.

I hold you
personally responsible

for its current debasement.

And I thank you
very much for that.

Alice. Yes?

I owe you

a sincere apology

for a gross perversion
I committed

against the innocence
of your nature.

You've been nothing but kind,

and please don't change.

Thank you.

Still on for squash?

Tuesday, 4:00.

Let's do it for the first time
once again, yes?

Let's do it.

Oh, baby.

Bollocks.

Oh, hello, sevy.

Your wife and I
are going to a place

that you wouldn't understand.

Yes.

I'm going on an expedition now,

searching for my share
of happiness.

You don't need me anyway,

do you, sew?

No, I don't need you.

But I love you.

Poor guy.

I feel terrible.

Time to go.

I think your being
so fond of yourself

is wonderful, Edgar,

because then you can give
so much pleasure

to other people.

One of your goals should be

someday to have
your own billboard.

Everyone could see it
and feel a little happier

knowing you're
looking down on them.

Sorry.

Ooh. Oh, god.

It isn't easy, Alice,

trying to reshape
this corrupt world of ours.

I don't know that
you can reshape something

that has no shape.

Humans are more
or less helpless.

I'd like to visit you, Edgar.

A visitation?

I feel that we have
a lot in common.

I'd like to visit you.

Only if I summon you.

If you don't summon me soon,
perhaps I'll summon you.

Look, Edgar,
I'm willing to admit

that sometimes
thinking about your desire

is better than satisfying it.

Love's a bolt from the blue.

Bolt from the blue, huh?

Well, there must be
a lot of bolts

from the blue out there,

because around us right now,

there are thousands of couples
having sex and making love,

and they don't think
anything about it.

Yeah. But I'm willing to bet

they're a damn sight
happier than you are.

Everyone's happier

than I am, faldo.

But I believe that's better
than living a lie.

Well, truth is elusive, Edgar.

You scared away that pretty
little Alice, didn't you?

Chose your mythical creature
over a real woman.

You didn't have to go out
in the world, take a risk,

get hurt, break your heart.

She didn't even fall in love
with the whole of your mind,

just a small
little part of it, Edgar,

a little compulsion obsession.

When you love that thin,

it's very difficult
to know what is real.

But you got your phantom.

Well, you have your phantom.

Well...

God bless you.

Bless you.

I believe in the
future resolution

of the two states,

dream and reality,

which are
seemingly contradictory.

Nevertheless, I reserve
the right to change my mind.

No, wait.

Don't go, please.

Come back.

I love you.

I'll have to finish this
one of these days.