All language subtitles for 1923 S02E03 1080p WEB H264-SuccessfulCrab

♪ MTV ♪

I am needed in Montana.

My wife is lost to me.

It's a war over my family's
land, and I'm losing it.

Get my whiskey to Fort Worth,

and you can get back
in time to save it.

No!

I swear, girl, if it
weren't for bad luck,

you'd have none at all.

No! Oh!

This isn't living.

This is surviving.

When the storm passes,
I'm going home.

Is there a marshal present
who does field work?

Just the one you're looking at.

We seek a murderer

we believe has fled to
the Comanche nation.

We should move.

Zane, we're taking
your family home.

They've been released.

We gotta flip the wagon!

Let's go look for the horses.

These kids are gonna
freeze to death.

We need a fire.

You ain't gonna find any
wood to burn out here.

- Use the wagon.
- If I use the wagon,

I got nothing to get you out in.

I ain't getting
out of this anyway.

You will not talk like
that, you hear me?

Don't quit on them, Zane.

They didn't quit on you.

Burn the wagon.

We'll ride out.

You can't ride.

I can sleep horseback.

Ain't nothing to sittin' on one.

All right, then.
Hang in there, huh?

Let's get this over with.

Darlin', you'll die
if you don't get them.

You don't know that.

You don't know
that it was rabid.

We know.

Wolves run from men.

They don't seek them,
they don't attack them.

They don't come
into their homes.

Madness drove this animal.

And it will drive
you to your death.

It's driving me already.

This is not madness,
this is fear.

And you need to overcome it.

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

No! Please! No!

Please don't make me.

- Just sit, little miss.
- No!

- Please, no!
- We got... Yeah, we got...

- Let go of me!
- Grab her! Grab her leg!

I suppose you'd have me
shoot you in the living room.

Like an animal driven
wild with fever.

The world is not a fair place,

as you've surely
realized by now.

But it has been
far kinder to you

than to the woman lying in the
back of Dr. Miller's buggy.

That I can assure you.

Now you're a woman.

Whether you're ready
to be one is debatable,

but a woman you are.

It's time to act like it.

Now, lay back.

I'll stand.

Leave us.

Lift your gown.

I'm making a stew.

I'll call when it's ready.

Good morning. This is
your captain speaking.

New York Harbor is in view,
and we will be docking shortly.

Please collect your
personal belongings

and your travel documents.

First and second
class passengers,

please muster on the upper deck.

Tourist class on the main deck.

Thank you.

Attention on deck.

You will follow me off the ship

and follow the U.S. Immigration
officers to the ferry

docked at the bow.

What ferry?

Ferry to where?

Immigrant processing
at Ellis Island, ma'am.

Why must we be processed and
they're free to wander the city?

Because they secured their

travel documents
at the U.S. Embassy

in London prior to departure.

Had you done the same, you'd
be free to wander as well.

Follow me, please.

You will walk single
file behind me.

Walk off.

Single file.

Walk straight ahead.

- Speak English?
- Of course I speak English.

I am English. We invented it.

Got a special boat for
people who give us lip.

Takes you right back where you
came from. Open your mouth.

- Say, "Ah."
- Ah.

Deep breath in.

Hold it.

Down to your right.

Name?

Alexandra.

Last name?

- Alexandra of Sussex.
- Is "Sussex" your last name?

Sussex is the region
where my family's from.

I didn't ask where you were
from. I asked your last name.

Dutton.

Alexandra Dutton.
That's your name?

That is my name, yes.

What's your business in the
United States, Miss Dutton?

I'm meeting my
husband in Montana.

- Bozeman, Montana.
- He lives in Montana?

- Yes.
- Is he from Sussex, as well?

He's American.

Did he not secure you travel
papers for your journey?

We became separated
in Marseille.

He must journey here
on another vessel.

Are you unwell?

Scared.

The soldier said pregnant
women cannot come in.

They send us back.

Why didn't they tell us
that before we book passage?

Why won't they let you in?

Because I am two mouths to
feed with no means to work.

I can work.

Women have been working
with baby at breast

since Christ was in the cradle.

Dutton.

♪ Slow, somber music ♪

- Date of birth?
- The first of April, 1901.

Set your belongings
down, please.

Remove your coat.

Any cough, fever,
rashes, nausea?

- None.
- See the stool to your left.

Will you step up on the
stool for me, please?

Step down, please.

Can you bend over, keeping
your legs straight,

and pick the stool up?

What would be the
medical purpose of that?

The medical purpose would
be to see if you can do it.

America has no need for
mongrels or invalids.

Raise it above your head.

Very well.

If you would disrobe, please.

Remove your clothing.

It is not a request,
Miss Dutton.

It is a requirement.

Turn around, please.

Arms out.

Sit on the table, please.

Deep breath in.

I already did this.

You didn't do it for me.

Exhale.

Lungs are clear,
heartbeat normal.

Reflexes normal.

Lie back on the table, please.

Open your legs.

Gives me no joy to
look between the legs

of another mick immigrant

in search for venereal diseases,

which I find at
an alarming rate.

It seems the whole of Ireland
is inflicted with them.

You will not.

Then back to the ocean you go.

Close your legs.

Something you forgot to tell me.

You're pregnant.

And they wonder
why we check them.

Note her chart.

What did you write on me?

I'm noting your pregnancy
for the next examiner.

There's another one?

There's three.

Can I get dressed?

Not yet.

Stand for me, please.

Arms out.

Face me.

Did you know you were pregnant?

I knew.

How many months?

Four, I think.

Sit on the table.

Fetch me a speculum, please.

Deep breath in.

You need to stop crying.

Sit here.

Got any food?

You, blondie.

Do you have any food
in that fancy bag?

- No.
- No?

No crisps, no
biscuits, no nothing?

I have no food.

You got to buy your way in,
you know that, don't you?

Or trade your way if you
got no coins to spare.

How are you set for coins?

What I have or don't have
is none of your concern.

Trade, then.

With that face, I know what
he'll want for passage.

What's your last name?

Just trying to find out if
you're before me or after me.

Pregnant.

Looks like you've
already been trading

with some lucky bloke.

Give that back.

Maybe the officer
won't mind biting

from a used loaf of bread.

Collins.

I hope you brought
plenty of coins, love,

'cause I'm gonna work all
the trade right out of him.

Dutton.

Dutton?

That's me.

Have a seat.

State your purpose in America.

I'm joining my husband
at his ranch in Montana.

His ranch?

Yes.

Cattle ranch.

That is correct.

I suppose this rancher
is tall and handsome

and walks with a slight limp

from some war wound received

while ridding the great
plains of savages and thieves.

Think you're the first woman
to come through this office

with a dime store
novel and a dream?

America is not the
land of dreams.

It is the land of opportunity.

Opportunity is something
that must be seized.

It must be earned.

In short, you must work.

You question my honesty, sir?

Questioning your
honesty is my job.

Do you have a marriage license?

Right.

A land of opportunity
can only exist

if those who seek a
better life in America

are willing and
able to work for it.

America needs another
beggar or prostitute

like it needs
another Spanish flu.

How do you plan
to earn a living?

I will work,

alongside my husband
and his family.

Enough with the fucking husband.

If you had a husband,
he would be with you.

What kind of husband buries
his bride in the hull of a ship

alone for a month

with the rats and the peasants?

America runs ads inside
every newspaper of London.

Boasting of the endless
opportunity here.

The welcoming arms of America

"Give us your tired, your poor,

your huddled masses
yearning to breathe free,

the wretched refuse
of your teeming shore.

Send these,

the homeless,

tempest-tost to me.

I lift my lamp beside
the golden door."

A sonnet by Emma Lazarus

donated to raise
money for the platform

your Statue of Liberty rests on.

A statue

which stares down on you...

...as you strip us
of our dignity...

...and inspect us like cattle.

You regard me with no
decency or compassion,

all in the name of preserving

a freedom I've seen
no example exists.

In fact, I would say
this is the least free

I have ever felt in my life.

If you wish to deny me entry...

...deny it.

But deny it with some courtesy.

You must display some
marketable skills to gain entry.

Do you have any?

Define a marketable skill.

Can you read?

I can read.

Prove it.

Whitman.

Just start from the beginning.

I'm seeking a passage
with a bit more relevance

to our current situation.

Ah, here it is.

"Oh, while I live to be

a ruler of life, not a slave.

And nothing exterior of me
shall ever take command of me.

Re-examine all that you've
been told and dismiss

that which insults your soul."

Which is exactly what I
will be doing with you,

regardless of your decision.

You have lipstick on your neck.

You might want to remove that

before you head
home to the missus.

W-Welcome to America.

Pardon me?

Where may I find
the train station?

- Where are you trying to go?
- West.

- Montana.
- Montana? Where is that?

Good question.

Do you sell maps?

Not to Montana.

How about the whole country?

Uh...

- Here it is, look.
- It's far.

It ain't close.

Looks like it takes
you up through Chicago

to Minneapolis, to Fargo

to Bismarck, up to Billings.

- Where in Montana?
- Uh...

Bozeman.

You need to get up to
Grand Central Terminal.

Where is that?

Uptown.

Too far to walk.

Take a cab.

Cabs are expensive.

Not as expensive as
getting that bag stolen.

You're a pretty lady.

You might as well

carry a sign that
says "tourist."

This city ain't
easy on tourists.

Hide your money in your shoe.

Keep your eyes open.

Don't wander any empty streets.

And the nicer somebody's being,

the less you can trust 'em.

You're being nice.

I'm too old to be anything else.

Grand Central for the lady.

I'm keeping the map.

- Thank you.
- All right. Go on, now.

Where you headed?

Meeting a friend

Destination?

Bozeman, ultimately.

- Montana?
- Yes.

Hmm. This is going
to be a trick.

I believe it's through...

...Minneapolis, then Bismarck.

You know what it's going to be
like up there this time of year?

Hope you got a fur coat and
gloves tucked in that bag.

I'm from England, thank you.

I'm no stranger to cold.

Lady, that ain't cold.

But you are traveling to it.

You want a sleeper
car, I assume.

Please.

Solo or shared?

How much is a solo?

It's a hundred
twenty-four and 50 cents.

How much is shared?

Ninety-two.

If you can spare the extra 30,

I highly recommend it.

You could end up bunked

with an Irish woman and
six screaming rug rats,

or worse, if there
is such a thing.

I can't spare it, I'm afraid.

You'll have to rebook
in Billings for Bozeman.

I can't secure
that leg from here.

It's too much risk of
snowdrifts shutting the line.

When do I depart?

I got you on a 10:55 via Boston.

Why Boston?

Because of that pesky thing

to the west called
the Hudson River.

I could send you down
through Philadelphia,

but that means a change,

and you don't want
to be in Philadelphia

in a train station at
2:00 in the morning.

Hmm.

Put that somewhere
different now.

Every pickpocket in the terminal
just saw your hiding place.

Is there a restaurant
in the terminal?

Oyster Bar, upstairs.

I suppose I should
hide this, too.

You should absolutely hide it.

No pickpockets in London?

Depends where you are.

Don't matter where
you are here, ma'am.

A young woman traveling alone.

Don't wait on the platform.

You wait up here till you see
the porters and other passengers

- move this way.
- Thank you.

Afternoon.

Cowboy rode by our camp,
looking for strays.

Didn't know we was
camped on someone's land.

Figured it'd be best
say we was there.

We could leave if you like.

Or help you look for
strays, then leave.

Well, if you're gonna
hunt up some strays,

you can camp there
as much as you want

and draw a wage while
you're doing it.

How many's in your crew?

No crew.

Just my daughter and
a boy I look after.

Whereabouts you camped?

Where the river bends like
a snake, in a narrow valley.

Red rocks on one side,
timber on the other.

Yeah.

Well, you're down in it.

When we start to drive, we're
gonna push to that valley,

then take 'em east
onto the Llano Estacado

and run 'em right into the
rail yard there in Claude.

We're gonna start first thing,

so once you start seeing them
cattle filter into that valley,

go ahead and hold
'em right there,

and we'll run 'em right
across that river.

Ah.

We could do that.

You hungry?

Should get back to my people.

See you in the morning.

Says two lawmen and
a priest did this.

Did it to the boy's parents
at their homesite, too.

Priest?

You know them?

I know 'em.

They move east.

Tell these men to leave
the justice to us.

♪ Slow, suspenseful music ♪

He said, "Justice
isn't what they seek.

If it's justice you want,

you need to find them first,

because they'll give
them something else."

What's with the horse?

Belonged to one of the boys.

They should give
it to the family.

They did.

Where are we?

Uh, town of Shamrock.

Should be ten miles that way.

Uh, that's Texas.

All these Comanche are starving.

Starving on a plain,
starving at the fort.

They travel a thousand
miles to starve.

What's the only job in
America they don't care

the color of your skin or
what's 'tween your legs?

Mine.

Cowboys. They don't care.

Man, woman, Indian.

Can you ride? That's
all that matters.

Mexico is where they'll head.

They need some
money to get there.

I say we check out cow camps,

get to Amarillo, make
sure that bitch's face

is on every corner post.

I must get her remains to town.

One shot a day, Mrs. Dutton.

- If you miss even one...
- I won't.

I won't miss one.

I know the process troubles you.

That's not what
troubles me, Doctor.

They should be home by now.

Snow hampers travel.

They should be home.

Shouldn't we all?

Seems you have one less worry!

There's no buggy.
There's something wrong.

You're late.

Storm caught us.

That the doctor?

- Yeah.
- How did you know

- to call him for us?
- I didn't call him for you.

This winter just won't end.

I need everyone out.

Took a knock to the head.

I took a few.

Headaches?

It's worse when I sit up.

Show me where it hurts.

Nauseous?

Yes, sir.

Follow my finger with your eyes.

- Vision blurred?
- It comes and goes.

Oh. Does it hurt

when I touch it?

- No more than usual.
- Oh.

When, uh, someone suffers

a severe brain injury,

fluid... blood... can build
up and cause swelling.

It's called acute hematoma.

But when the
swelling is delayed,

showing up a week or more later,

it's an subdural hematoma.

It builds up against your skull
and pushes against the brain.

So, what do you do?

We must drain it.

And this is not
the place to do it.

They should have done
it at the hospital.

They weren't doing
much at the hospital.

Clearly.

I must drill into his skull

and suction out
the blood, but...

I don't have the
supplies or the staff.

Won't go away on its own?

On its own, it will kill him.

Oh, I guess we ought to
find you a drill, Doc.

Well, I have a drill...

but I have no anesthesia.

Let me have a word with him.

Zane, we got some good
news and some bad news.

Good news is,

there is a way to
get you better.

Uh...

Doc has to, uh, drill a hole,

uh, relieve the pressure.

That's the good news?

Compared to the bad news, it is.

What's the bad news?

What are you doing?

I'm packing.

Where are you going?

Back East.

- Can you tell me why?
- This place is why.

This life is why.

Cara said that I had to want,

I had to want more than the man,

that I must want
the life, and...

I want no part of it.

What about for
better or for worse?

Nowhere in our vows did it say
to live in this frozen hell

and fight for my
life at every turn.

It's your turn for worse.

If you want to be my
husband, be him in Boston.

This is my home.

It's not mine.

This place has made that clear.

Honey, it's time.

Jack, you should step out.

No, let him watch.

You're getting much
better at this.

Eight more and I'm
done with this place.

Sorry, Jack.

She told me to.

Where was that in our vows?

You ever see so many cows?

I have.

Where are there more?

I don't know if there's more,
but Montana has its share.

Look how fat.

Everything in America is fat.

The cows, the bugs, the
people. Whole place.

I'll be in a skinny
country soon enough.

In Sicily, everyone
is skinny, starving.

Only the grandmothers are fat.

I don't know why.

Aren't they the cooks?

Too much sampling.

Sounds like the problem.

You can't change that, though.

Never trust a skinny cook.

Let me see that map.

I think this is where
we meet the pavement.

That's the road to Fort Worth.

You think maybe a
wreck, up ahead?

I think it's a roadblock.

- We have money for that.
- I'm gonna get eyes on them

Shit.

What are you doing?

It's a roadblock.

My cousin, he gave us
money for the roadblock.

I have the money.

He also gave us pistols for
those who don't accept it.

We have to find another road.

Turn right up here.

Another right.

We stay on this for a while.
Going to be a big loop.

We have to get
rid of this truck.

It will be fine.

I'm not dying for a
bunch of fucking booze.

We sit here, wait till
dark, then keep moving.

We have a head start.

They will never catch us.

They don't even
know where to look.

Keep driving.

Drive.

You out of your mind?

After all the shit you
suffered through to get here,

this is what you do? Be a
bagman for your cousins?

My cousins came from nothing.

And look what they built.

They are sharing it with me!

This isn't sharing with you.
This is getting rid of you.

You got two choices.

Walk with me to a train station

or take your chances
with this truck.

They're my family.

Right or wrong,

they are family.

Look what you do
for your family.

Best of luck.

- I need my pistol.
- No, you don't.

I can't defend
myself without it.

Can't defend yourself with it.

I need it. Please.

I highly recommend not using it.

My dearest Spencer,

I have reached New York.

Soon, I board a
train for Billings.

In a week's time, I shall
stand on your doorstep.

I dream of mountains now.

I dream of snow and
a fire to warm us.

It has been months

since I have tasted your lips
or felt the fire of your touch.

And yet it is this last week
that seems the most unbearable.

Are we not done proving that
we have earned each other?

What calamity awaits
to keep me from you?

What fresh hell has
the devil devised?

I suppose it is not
anticipation at all.

It is fear.

It is absolute terror

that the world will
not let me have you.