All language subtitles for Dread (2009).en

Maybe I'm not being clear enough.

Maybe I need to be honest with you
and tell you what I want.

What is it that you want?

I want your soul to open up for me.

Frustration or unhappiness are caused by
the unrealized potential in a person.

Cyrenaic hedonism
supported immediate gratification.

Even fleeting desires were encouraged

regardless of the pain
or expense to others.

- Can I bum a cigarette?
- Yeah.

I don't see you
in any of the other philosophy lectures.

Ethics fulfills one of my requirements.
I'm actually a filmmaker.

Are you the real deal or someone
who thinks he's the next Scorsese

because he spent his Friday nights
at the multiplex instead of getting laid?

I'm definitely not the next Scorsese,

and I wasn't getting laid on Friday nights

for reasons far more humiliating
than being at the movies.

- Quaid.
- Stephen Grace.

- Hey.
- Hey.

The philosophy major here is shit anyways.

What we should be doing is flirting with
the subject of any worthwhile philosophy.

You know, the things we don't understand,
the things we fear,

because if we don't, then we risk...

Doesn't matter.

We risk what?

If you don't go out and find the beast,

sooner or later,
the beast will come and find you.

Well, I really don't think I have fears
that justify a two-hour lecture.

No? What's the worst thing
that's ever happened to you?

My brother, my older brother,
he died when I was 15.

How did he... How did he die?

A car accident.

He was drunk.

Losing an older sibling must have
given your life a sense of frailty.

Come on. No fear of your own mortality?

No, there's not fear.
It was anger, and it was sadness.

Not fear. Fear would've been selfish.

I'm telling you, I lead a pretty dull life.

Fear doesn't cross my path very often.

- Okay, I'll drop it.
- Thank you.

That's me missing my train.

That's like the 10th time
that alarm's gone off since I've met you.

- I'm just being practical. I...
- Maybe you're afraid to live.

Hey, wake up, honey. We're home.

You tired, baby?

What storybook do you want tonight?

Can I help you?

I was in an accident,
and I need to use your phone.

I'm sorry. My phone is not working.
You'll have to go somewhere else.

Sarah! Sarah! Get out of the house!

Please!

Mama.

This is your mother,

your father.

- Hey.
- Hey.

I didn't sleep well.

Calculus or ethics?

I went out.

- You don't go out when I ask.
- I didn't plan it.

Just... Just kind of happened.

Stephen, there's a police officer here.

He asked me if I knew
where you were last night.

- So much for the golden future, son.
- That's funny.

What are you doing here?

I want you to come by my place tonight.

- Is that everything?
- Yeah.

For what?

I want to talk to you about something.
Proposition.

- What, why don't you just tell me now?
- No, I can't. I gotta go.

Come after work. 64 Pilgrim Street.

- Change.
- Thanks.

Nice to meet you.

Cool birthmark, by the way.

That's it for today.

It's good.

The painting? It's a hobby.

- You have any others?
- No.

I trash them when I'm done.

I can't stand all these eyes staring at me.

Let me change.

So... So, I've been thinking
about something.

So, you've heard of Kinsey, right?

Yeah.

- The guy who did the sex studies.
- Yeah. What if we did a fear study?

Compile a survey on people's fears
and what causes them.

You have access to equipment
through the film program, right?

- And you need a project for your thesis.
- Yeah.

Call it an experiment in catharsis.

To live another's dread vicariously,
that's the...

That's the safest way to touch the beast.

Yeah. See, I don't think I really want to
touch the beast that you're talking about.

Well, then, let's just do it

because it will be fucking fun
to do something worthwhile.

Well, since you put it that way.

Yeah, that summer my brother died
he bought this old beater of a car.

It was really cool, though.

It was a 1965, eye-shadow blue Mustang.

We drove around all summer in that thing.

I didn't want to admit it that night,
but you're right.

When my brother died,
the first thought that came to mind

was that I could've easily been
in the car with him,

that at 15 I could've died.

So, you're in?

Yeah. I'm in.

Good. Let's celebrate.

- Hey, this is Samantha.
- Hi.

- And this is Zooey, right?
- Yeah.

It's a really cool name.
Have you ever seen the film Killing Zoe?

What?

I said I like your name.

You shit.

Don't we use computers for that now?

Don't you know only pricks and terrorists
wear sunglasses indoors?

So, I need an editor for my thesis.

- What do you think about partnering?
- What would be the topic?

Dread.

We're gonna chase the beast,

discover the origins
of people's deepest fears.

Reveal the dark behind the door.

Okay, I'm in.

How old were you
when you had your first nightmare?

The first nightmare I really remember...

I hate moisture.
The worst is when you spill a drink

and your napkin gets all wet
like a fleshy mass.

- Have you ever been mugged?
- Do you believe in the devil?

Have you ever been harmed
by a family member?

Have you ever seen a person die?

What's your strongest memory
of feeling fear?

Fuck. Fuck.

- At first it started like a fungus...
- I don't believe in anything.

...but then there was this discharge.

God is man, and man thinks he's God.

When my baby sister was born, my
mother's vagina ripped, like, three inches.

They had to sew her up with frigging twine.

I was 10.
On that day, I vowed to never have kids.

Can we stop?

It turned out there was a worm,
and it had crawled up there

when I was swimming in the lake
by my grandparents' house.

And my pubes,
they started to grow this cheese.

I think we have everything we need.

You know we've had
five classes together. Five.

And this is the first
meal we've ever shared.

Well, it's not really a meal.
That's more like a botanical garden.

I'm sorry if I offend you with my roughage,
Mr. Triple Bypass.

- So good.
- I just don't like meat.

Your burger

makes me want to vomit.

Gross. That's lovely.

First meal. Two years.

To be honest, you know, you're probably
one of the people I talk to the most.

Wow. You're such a loser.

What's up?

It's not good enough.

It's a start.

But, "I'm scared of spiders,"
"I'm scared of clowns,"

"I'm scared of Mickey fucking Mouse."
Who cares?

Relax.

I don't believe in anything.
What is there to believe in?

Do you set that thing
to tell you when to take a shit?

- Give me the fucking thing.
- No.

...been like ghosts.

Give me the fucking watch, Stephen.

- I'm not...
- Give me the watch.

- Hey, hey! Wait.
- God. What up, you two? Come on.

You fucking asshole.

Stop!

Interview me.

What?

I want to sit.

I grew up in a small town
in upstate New York.

My mom worked at the local supermarket,

and my dad...

And my dad worked at the...

At a meat-packing plant
about 20 miles outside of town.

They'd slaughter cattle there

and supply our markets
with corn-fed organic beef.

And he'd work late.

And by the time he'd get home,
my mom would always be asleep.

I'd lay there on my pillow

and listen to the sound of his boots
walk to my bedroom door.

I don't know if my mother

just pretended not to know
what the fuck was going on

or if she was just too weak.

You don't... You don't need to do this.

But...

What I remember the most about it
was the way...

The way his flesh smelled
when he'd come home from work.

This heavy, metallic smell

that would follow him home from the plant,

like warm blood on the grass,

cold fat in the freezers.

I can hardly stand to look
at a piece of meat now,

let alone think about eating it.

Looks like I'll be taking iron supplements
for the rest of my life, huh?

That's what I'm talking about,
some fucking, honest-to-God trauma!

Yeah? I showed you mine,
now you show me yours.

Come on, Quaid.
How'd your parents fuck you up?

I just don't want...

Hey. I'm gonna go ahead and stay the night.

I've already missed the last train.

Wake up. Stephen, he's in the house!

Quaid, Quaid, Quaid, what is it?
What is it? You okay?

Hey, what is it?

Just a dream.

That didn't sound like just a dream.

No, it was nothing. Just go back to bed.

No.

You practically know my whole life story.

Yeah, but when it comes to you,
I don't know much at all.

My parents were killed
when I was six years old, Stephen.

They were murdered
right in front of my eyes.

Killed with the axe
from my father's tool shed.

Never caught the man that did it.

I don't know how I got away, but I did.
I ran and I ran,

and I've never really stopped.

Don't tell anyone, Stephen.

- Promise me.
- I promise.

Well, hello, creepy.

Quaid came in looking for you yesterday.

- Yeah, what'd he want?
- Don't know.

But he asked me if I'd model for him.

- What did you say?
- I said, "Fuck, no."

Politely, of course.

But for a while,
I thought he might actually convince me.

- Can I pay for this?
- Yeah, sorry.

- Hey.
- What's this?

It's therapy.

1,200 bucks on Craigslist.

- Why do you have this?
- You know why I got it. It's for you.

Find the beast. Drive it when you're ready,
not a moment sooner.

Come up. I think we got a good one today.

Joshua, what is your strongest memory
of feeling fear?

When I was six years old,
I was hit by a car,

and the concussion left me deaf
for three years.

So, I went from being, you know,

a normal kid
to being completely cut off from the world.

When it got really bad, I had a prayer.
My mom taught it to me.

It's, "Gentle Jesus..."

Something...

"Look upon this little child and..."

You know, it was...
It was that sort of thing, you know.

I can't remember it anymore.
Haven't needed it in a while.

Then one day, my hearing came back.

I mean, you know, I... Still, you know,

I hear any volume of sound,
and the ringing comes back, and...

Even talking about it,

you know, it brings back

a feeling of dread.

I mean,
I suppose that is the worst part of it all.

You live with the notion

that the thing that causes you
the most terror

could come back at any time.

Yeah? Hi.

This way.

Hey. Will you sit for me tomorrow?
Same price as usual.

I can't. I have plans.

Just ask one of the other girls.

This is your mother.

Your mother.

So, I have a surprise for you.

- A gift?
- A necessity.

- Awesome.
- It's virtually indestructible.

At least shatter-resistant
and possibly waterproof.

Thank you, Cheryl.

So, I was thinking

that if you ever wanted me to interview
for the fear study, I could.

Yeah? Okay.

I'll talk to the guys,
and we can set something up.

I was kind of hoping you would just do it.

- I'd feel more comfortable.
- Sure.

- I can come by tonight after class.
- Great.

- Is this your family?
- Yeah.

My mom and my two older sisters.

- They're pretty, huh?
- Yeah, they're pretty,

just like their sister.

Should we get started?

You know, I can vividly remember
my first day at kindergarten.

I was wearing a light blue dress,

and I was there no more than 10 minutes

before some boy asked me
what was wrong with my face.

That was the first time I realized
I had something to be ashamed of.

You have nothing to be ashamed of.

Stephen, you're supposed
to be impartial, remember?

Yeah.

Listen, I could have a lot worse
than a birthmark covering my body.

But that's kind of hard to swallow

whenever I have to look
in the mirror to fix my hair.

Or when I look at my sisters.

What that boy asked me
when I was five years old

is what people want to ask me
every day of my life.

And every time I have to meet someone
for the first time,

I'll always be that 5-year-old girl again.

I'm so sorry
you have to go through that, Abby.

Can I show you something?

Something that it takes a lot for me to do.

Something that I don't show many people.

Abby.

Abby, I can't.

Why?

My heart is somewhere else right now.

What does that even mean?

Abby.

Just go.

- Abby...
- Please, just go.

Will you just go pick up the camera?
You don't need to talk to her.

- Why didn't you just fuck her?
- Because I don't feel that way about her.

You're afraid Cheryl will find out.

- That has nothing to do with it.
- So, I can show her the tape, huh?

Can you just cut me a break?

Look,

Cheryl carries a lot of baggage,
and I don't wanna see you get hurt,

not to mention I don't like you
pissing in the well, but...

Quaid, it's a school project, okay?
It's not like we're curing cancer.

Is that all this is to you, Stephen,
a school project?

You know what I mean.

- We're friends, right?
- Right.

Right, so, of course I'm going to help you.

I'll get the camera, I'll toss the tape,

- after I've watched it.
- Thank you.

- Anything else?
- Yeah.

- I'm taking the car tomorrow.
- Good for you.

Look, I know you thought it was gonna be
some great cathartic challenge for me,

but it is just a car, Quaid.

Yeah, I know. It's just a car,

when you're trying
to get into a girl's pants.

Shut the fuck up.

- Do you want the tape?
- No.

- You are sexy, you know.
- No, I'm not.

Why?

Sexy is all kinds of things. It's...

It's short dress and high heels.

It's... It's morning breath and messy hair.

It's covered in dirt
from cleaning out the garage all day.

It's...

It's a winter coat
that hides everything but this.

Sexy is unique.

So,

you wanna stop feeling sorry for yourself?

Will you paint me?
Will you paint me normal?

Hey.

- You're a fucking psycho.
- No, you!

Go down on me. Please.

What's wrong? Did you have a nightmare?

What is your strongest memory
of feeling fear?

My life is a labyrinth.

A map of its complexities is etched
on my face in 1,000 tiny expressions.

Waking up at night...

Thank you.

What's your strongest memory?

There is an answer in what we're doing,

a remedy that no fucking medication

or quack therapy could ever compete with.

Potentially losing my mother.

Sometimes I get discouraged.

- That's bad.
- See, everybody's like that.

Maybe I'm not being clear enough.

Maybe I need to be honest with you
and tell you what I want.

What is it that you want?

I want your soul to open up for me.

Spread-eagled like a split beaver
so that I can gaze into its secrets.

Last one. I got some beer and shit,

but we really gotta cram the night
if we wanna get everything done.

- How many did you get?
- Six-pack.

You can't really have one.
They're all six for me.

Come on, give me a beer.

I'll be downstairs.
I'm gonna get set up, all right?

I was confined to a house
for the better part of 20 years.

It was my mother's house.

I was professionally diagnosed
with agoraphobia.

So, you would never leave the house.

How did you do anything
like get food or toilet paper?

Well, I was completely dependent
on my mother,

and I had developed
a severe hatred for her.

She was the cause
of everything horrible in my life,

but she was my only friend.

She died when I was 21. Heart attack.

I never told anyone.

I didn't call anyone. I never had.
I couldn't.

About three weeks later,
the neighbors noticed the smell, I guess,

and they came over
and called an ambulance.

After that, they came
and checked on me quite frequently.

It's a good thing they did, too,

because the day I tried to commit suicide
they found me.

Would you mind talking about that?

I cut my throat with a razor.

I was dead for five minutes.

But that's why I'm here.

Three years ago,
I could not step out of my house.

And now the world is at my feet,
and it's because when I came back,

I came back completely fearless.

You're a fucking liar.

- Quaid.
- Excuse me?

You don't come in here and lie to me
and tell me you're fucking fearless!

- Quaid, stop!
- Hey, what are you doing?

- Quaid!
- Quaid, what the fuck?

- Get off of me.
- It's fucking makeup.

You asshole.

I thought it'd be good for my reel.

This isn't reality television!
Get the fuck out of here!

- Fuck you!
- Fuck you!

Fuck you!

Have you completely lost
your fucking mind?

You can't just attack someone like that.

- I was right, wasn't I?
- Who cares?

What's it to us?

I don't feel like
getting arrested for assault.

"Who cares?"

"Who cares?"

- This is just a school project, right?
- Yeah, exactly.

- Quaid, what the fuck?
- Quaid!

This was never about a school assignment!
I could give a fuck about your thesis!

Quaid. Quaid, please stop.

No. No!

No! No! No!

- Cheryl.
- Just leave me alone.

Cheryl, I...

Did you ever fuck her or what, huh?

What does she sound like
when she comes?

- That's enough.
- She's a quiet one, I bet.

Lets it build up in her cunt.

What you just did...

See, you don't even give a shit!

It's a good thing
I didn't try to take your watch.

Hey, Cheryl. This is Stephen.

Look, I'll pay for the damaged equipment.

Just call me back.

Good job, Grace. Fucking B+.
Kessler kicked my ass.

- What do you... What do you mean?
- The grades are out, for the thesis.

Hey, I'm sorry.

I fucked up. I'm fucked up, I know.

Why did you turn in the film?

I couldn't let you fail.

I had backups on an external.
It was...

It was missing the last
interview, of course.

I'll give you the money for the equipment.

- I'll pay for everything.
- Yeah.

- That's right. You will.
- I will.

Now get in and let me apologize
for being such an asshole.

Stephen, I want us to...
I want us to finish our fear study.

What are you talking about? It's finished.
You... You turned it in.

No, it's not about what we've already done.
It's about what we still need to do.

Yeah, I can do this alone,
but I don't want to.

Quaid, the assignment's done. I'm done.

All right, if you want to continue it,
then continue it.

The study was your idea anyway.

So, where we going?

To the limits.

Wow. This is some great apology.
Pull the car over.

Drink it.

No, I'm not drinking it.
Pull the car over.

- Okay, what is this, some sick game?
- It's not a game, Stephen, okay?

It's life, you know. It's you
facing your fears and fucking living.

Haven't you ever wondered
what it was like for your brother

those final few moments
before he crashed his car?

- Before he completely lost control?
- No, Quaid, I don't.

I avoid having to think about those
moments like any rational person would.

What are you trying to do?
You gonna drive us into a brick wall?

- Is that gonna teach me some life lesson?
- Hey, you never know, Stephen.

There could be a solution
in those final moments, you know.

A resolution. A way out.

- A way out of what?
- Of your dread.

Come on, let it take you, Stephen.

- You can't always have control.
- Yes, I can!

- No, you can't!
- Pull the car over!

Hey, Stephen, man. Come on.

Hey, look, I'm sorry, okay?
I'm... I'm drunk.

Please, come on.
Just get in and drive me home.

Fuck off.

I need help. Stephen, I need...

I need help.

Shit.

What are you doing here?

I came to try and salvage
some of the hard drive.

Down here?

I was looking for a light bulb and...

If it looks like madness,
it must be, right?

Is that what you're thinking?

I don't know what I'm thinking.

- I'm gonna go.
- Ask me what I want.

No.

Go ahead. Ask me.

What do you want?

I want us to take our study
to the next level.

Can you go and sign me in...

Hey, this is Cheryl. Leave me a message.

Hey, Cheryl. It's Stephen.

I haven't seen you in, like, a week and...

Look, I promise
I'm not gonna complicate your life.

I just wanna talk. Okay?

Just call me back. Bye.

Hey.

Hey.

I'm going home for break tomorrow,
and we didn't say goodbye.

And I didn't want to leave things
how we left them.

What's this?

...that's kind of hard
to swallow whenever...

- What's going on?
- Hey.

This weird video started playing
on the campus channel.

...a light blue dress,

and I was there no more than 10 minutes...

This is on every TV
across campus right now.

I'll always be that 5-year-old girl.
You know, I can vividly remember

my first day at kindergarten.

...covering my body.
I had something to be ashamed of.

...every day of my life...
What was wrong with my face.

What was wrong with my face.
What was wrong with my face.

- Abby.
- Hey, watch it!

Abby?

Abby!

You made it.

- Thanks for coming.
- That's all right.

When I... When I was reviewing your tape,

I realized there were a few more questions
we should have asked you.

Your interview was so compelling
I didn't wanna leave any stone unturned.

- Stephen and Cheryl not here?
- No, they couldn't make it tonight.

- Can I get you a drink?
- Yeah.

- Jack and Coke?
- Sure.

- You want ice, right?
- Yeah.

You have a really cool collection. I mean,
you have Nausea by Jean-Paul Sartre.

I've read No Exit,
but I always heard this was better.

Good. You're awake.

I was getting tired of waiting.

Can you hear me?

Can you hear me?

What? No.

I think you can still hear me.

Please. Okay, you've proved your point.
I'm scared.

I'm scared. Please.

Let me go.

Take this fucking thing
off my head, please.

Well, you look like a goddamn fool.
Fucking spaceman.

I don't know what I was thinking.

Thank you. I'm sorry.

Fuck, no, please.

I'm sorry. What have I done?
What have I done?

I'm sorry. I'm... Don't shoot me.

No. No. No!

No! Fuck!

Mommy!

Mommy!

Oh, God!

Mommy! Mommy!

Hey. Take solace in this.

You faced the beast. The beast won.

- Hello?
- Stephen.

Abby. Where are you?

Would you like me if I was pretty?
Perfect like my sisters?

What are you talking about?

Abby.

Tell me where you are.

Where are you? Abby?

Oh, Christ. Oh, shit.

Abby. Abby, Abby.
Someone call an ambulance!

Abby. Abby, Abby. Oh, my God. Abby!

Call a fucking ambulance, somebody!
Help me!

"Gentle Jesus, meek and mild

"Look upon this little child
Pity my simplicity

"Suffer me to come to thee"
That would make it all better.

What's John Doe's story?

Still no news from the officer
who dropped him off.

What seems to be the problem?

Doesn't respond to the doctors at all.

All set.

Joshua, what is your strongest memory
of feeling fear?

Quaid!

Face the beast! You did that to her!

Come on out! Get out here!
I won't let you get away with that!

You wanna face the beast?

This is your mother...

Face me!

...and your father.

Abby's in the fucking emergency room.

She's in the fucking emergency room,
Quaid!

All because of you.

Get the fuck out here! Now!

You think you can fucking scare me, huh?

You think you can scare me, Stephen, huh?
Toss the axe!

Down on your knees.

Hey.

Got something to show you.

Results from this school project of ours.

They've been much more rewarding
as of late.

It's beef. Slightly salted, well-cooked.

What the fuck did you do?

Cheryl.

Help!

Cheryl! Cheryl! Cheryl!

She's not here, Stephen.
I've already let her go.

- I don't believe you.
- I swear she's not here.

I just wanted you to see
the next phase of my study.

I'm beginning to get the results I need.

It's starting to make me feel
a little fucking better, you know?

My nightmares have stopped cold.

I think she believed she could outwait me.

She hated even the smell of it.

And all those memories of her father
are flooding back to her, I'm sure.

Flooding back as if they were yesterday.

How long did you keep her in there?

Till the point was proven.

God, she looks sick.

She's hungry, of course.
It's been a day and a half.

This is where the cracks begin to show.
This is where the dread begins.

You motherfucker!

See? She always ended up cursing me out

whenever she had a confrontation
with the meat.

Go to hell, fuckhead!

Quaid! What are you doing?

Why are you doing this?

I'm not gonna do it.

I'm not gonna give you what you want.

I'm not even hungry anymore.

I'd rather die than eat your fucking meat.

About now she began to hallucinate.
Little mental ticks.

She'd think that
she'd felt something in her hair

or something on the back of her neck.

- God, the meat looks...
- Ripe?

It's warm in her little room.

And there's a few flies in there with her.

They found the meat and laid their eggs.

- Was that a part of your plan, too?
- Yes.

Well, that's the crux of her dilemma,
isn't it?

The longer she waits, the worse it gets.

You're sick.

You're nothing but a fucking sadist, Quaid.

You motherfucker!

How long now?

Five days. Six. Six days.

Six days!

Quaid.

Sorry, Quaid.

Sorry.

Whatever I did,

I'm sorry.

Please just let me out.

Please.

I'm sorry.

It startled me how suddenly she gave in.

Fuck...

She sat in the middle of the room
and ate the meat down to the bone.

Just like that.

Where did she go?

Well, she wandered downstairs.
She came into the kitchen,

drank several glasses of water.

Then she sat on a chair
for three or four hours,

and then I cooked her something to eat,
potatoes, and then she left.

You're fucking lying. I know it.
Where is she?

Look, if it'll make you feel any better,
check the house.

- Who's with you?
- No one. Cut me... Cut me out.

Come on, cut me out, cut me out.
Hurry the fuck up, Quaid.

You motherfucker!

Watching the fear of death,
the pinnacle of all dread approach,

that was the limits.

Someone once wrote that no man
can know his own death.

But to know the death
of others, intimately,

to watch the tricks that the mind would
surely perform to avoid the bitter truth,

that was a clue to
death's nature, wasn't it?

That might, in some small way,
prepare a man for his own death.

To live another's dread vicariously
was the safest,

cleverest way to touch the beast.

Steve. No!

No, Steve.

Let's see how hungry you have to be
to get through that.

No.

No!