All language subtitles for the.twilight.zone.335.i.sing.the.body.electric_e

You're traveling
through another dimension-

a dimension not only of sight
and sound, but of mind,

a journey into a wondrous land

whose boundaries
are that of imagination.

Your next stop,
the twilight zone.

I understand
how you feel, nedra.

Well, george,

i'm going to
tell you this,

and i want you
to hear me out

because i'm
not going

to repeat it.

Baby-sitters
and nurses

are not the same thing
as parental care.

It's been a year
since their mother died,

and little anne has
become more sickly

and hostile
every day.

She's unhappy and
she's insecure.

Well, you're right
about anne, nedra,

but tom and karen
are happy enough.

Oh, nonsense.

They're only
covering up.

They're sad,
unhappy children.

They have no base,
they have no anchor.

They have no direction.

They're like little
flotsam and jetsam.

Nedra, it takes time.

Anne needs more time.

So do i.

You'vehadtime.

This is ridiculous.

Anne's problem is
a kind of sickness,

and it's getting
worse and worse

and without guidance,

she isn't going
to be any better

two weeks from now
or a month from now.

Nedra...

where are my dears?

Your father and i
have had a very probing talk.

A very revealing one.

And i told him,

and i see
no reason

why i shouldn't
tell you.

I'm not at all pleased

with the way things have gone
in this house

since your
poor mother died-

not at all pleased;
not at all pleased.

I'll be in touch
with you.

George, you can be sure

i won't lose touch.

I'm sure of that, nedra.

Well, good-bye
for now, then.

Good-bye, anne, dear.

Oh, you poor,
poor little dears.

Poor, unhappy
little dears.

Good-bye, children.

Bye, aunt nedra.

She wants to
take us away,

doesn't she, dad?

Does she, daddy?

Is that what
she was here for?

She doesn't approve

of the way i'm
bringing you up.

She says
i'm too busy.

Perhaps i am.

She says that your sitters
and nurses have been, uh,

well, too mean
or too nice...

or too young
or too old.

She says that
you're unhappy.

Are you unhappy?

Oh, of course not.

Well, love
you don't need.

Love i can give you.

But guidance...

how do you buy guidance
for your children?

Someone here
all the time.

Someone around
who cares.

What do you do, advertise?

Some kind, gentle soul
who will care."

Dad?

Hmm?

Listen to this:

"I sing the
body electric."

What does that mean?

"Sing the body electric"

is the motto of
facsimile limited.

"I sing the body electric"?

Let me see that, tom.

"Inventors and makers
of electrical shadows,

"effigies, mimics,
mannequins. Dr. Cheyney.

"To parents who worry

"about inadequate nurses
and schools,

"who are concerned

"with the moral and social
development of their children,

"we have perfected

an electronic
data processing system."

An electric...?

Well, what does
that mean, daddy?

"An electronic
data processing system

in the shape
of an elderly woman built..."

a woman?

Yeah. Sort of a robot.

"...a woman
built with precision.

"With the incredible ability

of giving loving supervision
to your family."

Can they build
a machine

like a human?

I don't know.

It doesn't...
it doesn't sound so good.

But maybe we ought
to investigate.

I sing the body electric.

They make a fairly
convincing pitch here.

It doesn't seem possible,
though,

to find a woman who must be
ten times better than mother

in order to seem half as good,

except, of course,
in the twilight zone.

Are they going
to make her out of wicker?

Well, l-i
don't know.

Let's wait and see.

Won't you come in, please?

We've been expecting you.

Just to convince you
that facsimile limited

can do everything
that it claims that it can.

This way, please.

Eyes- soft brown, vivid blue.

Any color you choose.

Hair- white, grey, red, brown.

Aren't they beautiful?

Ears- all sizes,
all shapes.

Slender or sturdy.

Short or tall.

This can't be...

oh, no.

These are just
the bits and pieces.

Just the eyes,
the lips, the limbs

from which you will choose
the elements

which will become your, uh...

grandmother?

You mean we get to
pick out the color

of eyes
she'll have?

And how tall?

Exactly.

You will pick them out...

and put them down this chute

where they will be conveyed
to our factory.

I think she should
have blue eyes.

These eyes here.

No, these.

They're like
the brown aggies

i play marbles with.

Look! Those hands
are nice and plump.

I want
thin fingers.

Hey, her voice.

Listen.

"I sing the body electric."

From walt whitman's
poetry.

Her voice
is too high.

"I celebrate myself
and sing myself."

Again, walt whitman.

Too low.

"The armies
of those i love engirth me,

and i engirth them."

That's just right.

That's it.

Could you build her
like my mother?

If you wish.

Exactly like her?

Yes.

Then i don't
want her.

I don't want her
to be like my mother.

I'd hate her.

Anne, please.

Excuse me.

Tom, you want her to look
like mother, don't you?

Sure.

Then we don't care
what anne thinks.

Nah, she's crazy.

I can win any game
of marbles with those,

and if she had eyes
like these... gosh.

Oh, if she only had long hair.

Hey, aggies.

Brown aggies.

I can win any game
of marbles with those.

You must be tom and karen

and that's anne,
of course.

Who are you?

Give me any name.

Melissa, lavinia, melvina...

what would you like?

Grandma.

Say it a few times.

It'll sound fine.

I know you're thinking
i'm not a robot,

but i'll prove it.

Here.

Wind me up.

A key.

You don't wind

robots up.

They run
on electricity.

But you do want proof
though, don't you?

And if she had eyes
like these...

oh, if she only had long hair.

I see you
have a kite.

Get it.

But i'm all out of string.

No, you're not.

There.

It's flying!

What did you say
my name was?

Grandma!

Hey, anne,
look what grandma's done! Look!

How high shall
we fly it?

The moon.

The moon it is.

Oh, grandma!

Dad! Dad!

Grandma, is that
a new car out front?

Ask your father.

Dad, is that our car?!

It sure is.

I came home early
to surprise you.

Can we take a ride in it?

Well, of course we can.

Where's anne?
She wanted to stay
in this afternoon.

Oh. Well, you children
go on out and play

for a little while.

I'll be out in a few minutes.

Then we'll take a run
down to the soda fountain,

how about that?

Wonderful!
Come on, tom.

I'm sorry about anne.

You've been good to us,

and for us.

Now, don't worry
about anne.

She'll accept me...
eventually.

You see, mr. Rogers,

children are the most
complicated things in the world.

I could be the greatest
cook in the world,

the finest,
most exciting playmate,

the most incredibly
interesting companion,

but those
are very tiny niches-

a shelf in the stomach,
a very small ledge in the brain.

It's the heart
i have to enter-

the child's heart-

and this is a deep place,
difficult to reach.

But that too
will come.

Anne, we're
going for a ride.

Will you come
with us?

I want to stay home.

I don't want
her here.

Anne, you mustn't
say that.

I don't want her here!

Do i bother you,
anne?

I never wanted
you here.

It was them- father
and tom and karen.

They wanted you,
but i didn't.

They needed you, but
i never needed you.

Anne.

But it's true.

You sit

and you talk to her,

and you eat the food
she makes,

and you make believe,
father.

That's what you do.

You make believe

as if it
were a game.

As if she were real.

But she's not real.

She's a machine.

Nothing but an
old machine!

Anne. Anne,
you'd be surprised, my dear

how much
a machine can do

besides playing
and cooking.

This machine, for example-
this machine can love.

Love? Love who?

You, anne.

I can love you,
and i do.

I love you more than...

more than tongue can tell.

You don't love me.

You can't.

She said
she loved me.

She?

My mother.

She said,
"i love you,"

but she lied.

She lied!

And you're
like her.

I hate her,
and i hate you!

She's run away before.

I'll go after her.

There's no place
for her to go.

No place to go,
except to me.

Anne.

Get away.

You're just old junk.

Anne, why
do you hate me?

Because you're like her.

Your mother.

I hate her!

Why do you
hate her, anne?

Because.

Because?

Because she lied.

She said she loved me.

Didn't she?

She ran away.

Ran away?

She left me!

You mean... she died.

No!

You mean she died.

Yes.

But she let herself die.

She shouldn't have
done that to me!

She shouldn't!

She left me!

She left me.

Anne!

Anne, darling,
don't cry, don't cry.

Take it easy,
take it easy.

Anne. Anne, look!

Look, she's...

you're just old junk.

Old junk!

Get away. Get away.

Old junk.

That's my voice.

Your voice, anne.

Grandma.
Grandma, you're alive!

Alive.

But the car.

Nothing
can hurt me.

Then you're not
like mother?

In this way, no.

You can't run away?

I can't. I won't.

You'll never die?

Never.

Oh, grandma.

Your mother died too

when you were young.

How did you know that?

Did you ever forgive her
for running away like that

and never coming back?

No, i never did.

Anne...

now, she'll
be all right.

She had nowhere to turn.

She was afraid that aunt nedra
and everybody would run away

and leave her alone.

Everyone except you.

To live forever.

Now, let us
all go home

and finish
our lunch.

Last one home
is an old maid.

An old maid?

Hey, dad, are we going
to be old maids?

Not on your tintype.

As of this moment,

the wonderful
electric grandmother

moved into the lives
of children and father.

She became integral
and important.

She became the essence.

As of this moment,

they would never see lightning,

never hear poetry read,
never listen to foreign tongues

without thinking of her.

Everything they would
ever see, hear, taste, feel

would remind them of her.

She was all life,

and all life was wondrous,
quick, electrical-

like grandma.

Thank you, tom.

We're going to miss you,
grandma.

And i you.

More than tongue can tell.

Why do you have
to leave?

You're going off
to college now,

and you won't need me.

That's the way
it should be.

I'm not the world.

The world's out there,
and it needs you.

What's going to happen
to you now, grandma?

I'll go back to...

facsimile limited,
"i sing the body electric",

and be sent out to help raise
another family like yourselves

or perhaps... i'll be
taken apart, redistributed.

They won't
destroy you?

Oh, no, darling.

My mind... my soul,

you might say,
will go for a while

into a room
of voices.

A room of voices?

A great, dim room
where the minds and souls

of all the other
mechanical grandmothers

are brought and stored
for a month or a year.

And in that room,
we'll talk to each other,

and we'll tell
what we learned from the world

and from the families
we lived with.

And i'll tell
what i learned from anne...

and karen... and tom.

But you taught us.

Do you really think
i learned nothing

from you in return?

No.

Everything you ever said
or did,

everything you ever laughed
or cried about,

i'll share
with the other machines

in the room of voices,
and someday...

someday what, grandma?

For a reasonable
creature,

i have
an unreasonable dream.

Someday, after 300 years,

if i'm very wise
and very good,

perhaps i'll gain
life.

Oh, grandma,
you don't have to wait.

You've always been
alive to us.

I'll get it, grandma.

No, no, no, now.

Do me a favor,
would you?

Go on upstairs.

I've never been
one for good-byes.

I'm a silly,
sentimental,
old grandmother,

but i want to take
with me the past.

Now, go ahead.
Quickly.

But, grandma...
darling, go on.

That's fine.

Quickly. There.

Run on.

Go on.

A fable? Most assuredly.

But who's to say
at some distant moment,

there might be an assembly line
producing a gentle product

in the form of a grandmother,
whose stock in trade is love.

Fable? Sure.

But who's to say?

Rod serling,
creator ofthe twilight zone,

will tell you
about next week's story

after this message.

And now, mr. Serling.

Next week onthe twilight zone,
two incredibly talented people

join forces to show us
what happens

when an accident-prone,
discombobulated lady

with six thumbs
and two left feet

meets a hapless guardian angel

who knows more about martinis
than miracles.

Miss carol burnett
and mr. Jesse white.

They're the chief ingredients
to a very funny stew.

Next week, "cavender is coming."

For america to flower
spiritually and intellectually,

we need more
and better college facilities.

Help the college
of your choice.