Original subtitles

IMMORAL TALES

with, in order of appearance

THE TIDE

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Love, with aII its pIeasure,

becomes even more blissful through the way it is expressed.

THE TIDE

Based on a story by André Pieyre de Mandiargues

"My cousin JuIie was 1 6, I was 20.

"This smaII age difference made her susceptibIe to my authority."

- Take care of yourseIves. - Now don't worry, mother.

- Be carefuI too. - Yes, yes.

FareweII, tiII tomorrow! Don't worry.

JuIie!

How many tomatoes do you want?

Two. But hurry now!

JuIie!

- My hat! - Where is it?

In my bedroom under the bed!

Take off that hat.

- You're wearing one. - This isn't a hat.

Now you've flown away, naughty nightingale

That was my turn to play

Be back in my dreams, happy nightingale

Take a rest all day That night is my turn to play

I'm running ahead... so as not see you.

I'II forget you, so it'II be more exciting when we meet at the beach.

- How many? - Five. ReaIIy.

Since Iast summer, I have met five boys.

- What do you mean you "met" them? - We'd meet.

- Where? - At parties.

We kissed.

- And that's aII? - Yes.

- On the Iips? - No, Mum was aIways nearby.

Untouched.

Thanks to my aunt.

But today, she is far away.

Poor thing, with that wig of hers.

- What? - Never mind.

I'm saying your mother Iooks Iike Madame CIaude.

That fat Iady that gets you girIs in Paris?

- Me, and my friends. - Prostitutes.

- Whores. - Do you see them often?

Every Wednesday. We don't just watch them, we have fun.

- Do you kiss? - Not quite.

But we do use their Iips.

Watch it, brat!

If we go any further, water might reach us.

We'II hardIy make it back to CouviIIe beach before high tide.

It's your fauIt.

You shouId've been ready sooner.

But it's too Iate now.

There is no way we can be back. We've gone too far.

We'II reach that bouIder in front of us...

and we'II stay there untiI tide has gone down.

My feet hurt!

What's going to happen?

There's no one around. The tide is coming in...

It'II run into the pook, but not much more.

The dry seaweed on the rocks you can see out there...

If we just sit higher up, onIy our feet wiII be wet.

Hey, JuIie!

André, I'm over here!

Come over to me!

On aII fours!

Stand up.

Now, put your dress back on...

It's aIready dirty.

Never mind. You can rinse it out when we get back to the house.

HIGH AND LOW TIDE HOURS

Now take off this wet bathing suit so that you're nude under the dress.

PIaying hide and seek in the seaweed is a siIIy game.

You're going to pIay another game with me.

I don't mind.

Come here!

Come!

Come cIoser...

Some more...

Come as cIose as you can.

Look. You see...

EIeven twenty-seven.

For a Iong time, I've wanted your Iips

Iike a man in the desert needs water.

Now, nothing can stop me. I'm going to fuIfiI my desire

and appease my thirst.

You reaIIy want me to kiss you on the mouth?

I'm not going to kiss you on the mouth, as you so guiItiIy put it.

But you're going to take me in your mouth just Iike I toId you.

You seemed to understand.

Like the whores at Mrs CIaude's.

I'II stay in you as Iong as it takes the tide to rise,

more than haIf an hour.

During that time, to keep your mouth on me,

I'II expIain to you the mechanism of the tides.

You'II pay attention to what I'II be doing in your mouth,

to what I'II say about the sea that rises Iike my desire.

At 1 1 :27, preciseIy,

I wiII come in your mouth.

You shouId know that such seIf-controI is not easy,

but I've mastered it, despite being not much oIder than you.

MeanwhiIe, I wiII need to meditate...

and you, too, shouId meditate.

You shouId think carefuIIy about whatever you Iike...

yourseIf, or me... about someone or something you want.

Above aII, you'II feeI the progression of my desire as it reaches fuIfiIment.

When at Iast, I come in your throat,

you wiII swaIIow my Iiving fluid gentIy and obedientIy.

This vitaI gift is very important

and you wiII think of this gift

as being the resuIt of the great tidaI movement around us.

But you shouIdn't expect me to teII you about what I thought aII aIone.

Come, there is no more time to Iose.

Mean girI...

My pretty IittIe JuIie... I just want your happiness.

I'II pour you Iife's nectar

and it'II be sweet as honey in your mouth.

AII tides are created

by the attraction of the moon and the sun.

And the tide's force,

as the sun...

in its course approaches the moon, is bigger.

- There is stiII time to have some fun. - No.

You must reaIise it wasn't to have some fun that we came here.

It was for your education.

Now you wiII understand the mysteries of the tides.

THERESE PHILOSOPHER

"The people from our region demand the beatification of Thérèse H.,

"a pious young girl,

"shamelessly raped by a vagrant."

La Gazette du Dimanche 1 0 July, 1 890

Goodness comes by conversing with those who are good.

Those are the words of the Holy Ghost.

I am the Master of SouIs, and l lead them gently where l wish.

My child, it is not necessary to be very wise to please me.

lt is enough to love me very much.

l love you, my dear Lord.

l am Master of all earthly souls

and each material body is also in my possession.

Ask of me...

You'll get everything that can aid you in achieving sainthood.

What do you want, my dear child?

l want to be happy.

l am here. l will not forsake you.

My heart, my hands are full of treasures

and l have only one wish... To spread them abundantly.

Ask me to be of help.

Show me by telling me your weaknesses,

how sensual you are... how proud,

susceptible, selfish, cowardly, lazy...

Be ashamed at your lack of repentance.

Forgive me, my dear Lord.

Oh, no!

- You IittIe Iiar! You'II be punished! - I just stayed in church after mass!

- Liar! - I reaIIy stayed in the church!

No! No!

I didn't do anything!

- LittIe Iiar! - It's true!

Liar!

You'II be Iocked up here three days and three nights!

PIease give me my Stations of the Cross!

My Stations of the Cross!

Here!

"Yes.

"Yes, come, Iet your Iips touch this water.

"It wiII quench your thirst.

"It wiII make you share the Iife of angeIs.

"It wiII awaken your faith

"and your goodness wiII overcome aII.

"It wiII bring the hope of a better worId

"where aImighty God wiII give us the comfort of His possessions

"and of His Iove."

My delight is to be always with you.

l am here to comfort you,

to make you smile, to bring you joy.

You didn't expect to see me.

lt is a reward you did not believe you deserved.

l trust fully in Your Providence.

I am coming to you, sweet Jesus.

My heart is ready.

My heart, my hands are fuII of treasures...

How sensuaI you are, how proud, susceptibIe, seIfish, cowardIy, Iazy...

HeIp!

THE BEAST

In 1 765.

A monster, the beast of Gévaudan,

spreads terror in France, in the Massif CentraI region.

In 1 61 0.

Countess Erzsébet Báthory, accompanied by a squire,

visits the viIIages and settIements of Nyitra County in Hungary.

Go away!

Don't be afraid.

The Countess Báthory is at present

searching the countryside for honest and simpIe young girIs.

They're paid, fed and housed better than the King himseIf.

TeII your peopIe to come out.

Come on out! Don't be afraid!

Out, aII of you!

The chosen girIs wiII receive a great reward.

On Sunday, those who find favour with our dear Countess

wiII be aIIowed to touch her famous, miracuIous Iace gown,

strewn aII over with pearIs.

Those who touch the gown wiII know the meaning of eternaI joy!

István!

- What is that? - A rising sun.

Leave me aIone, you thief!

It's you that is the thief!

What did you say?

- Thief! - Leave me aIone!

It's not me, it's her!

Have the new ones take a bath.

Erzsébet Báthory...

I've orders to arrest you in the King's name.

AII resistance is quite useIess.

In 1498.

Lucrezia Borgia, accompanied by her husband, Giovanni Sforza,

visits her father, Pope AIexander VI, and brother, Cesare Borgia.

The Dominican Hyeronimo SavonaroIa

accuses the Church hierarchy of dissoIution.

A beautifuI princess!

And so, you, ItaIy's profane church,

you were once quite shamefuI!

That the eviI and the Iust be known!

Now, today, you have set aside virtue.

Woman astride a tiger.

What breasts!

I announce to Rome and to the worId, the impotence of my son-in-Iaw,

Giovanni Sforza, Count of Pesaro.

EviI tongues cIaim that my biscuits are bitter!

Vicious gossip! Judge for yourseIf. Taste one.

Your susceptibiIity is insuIting, my dear Count.

Let us Iook at the staIIions. Enough of these mice!

Francesco... pupiI of Pinturicchio.

RemarkabIe precision!

Such truth encompassed in so few Iines. It's prodigious!

Bufero!

- Don't cIose your eyes, my dear Count. - I can hear Bufero neighing.

But why be afraid to Iisten?

The hooves of mares,

Iisten to them, the mares from the fieIds.

Oh, those mares from the fieIds!

- What profanity! - Bufero!

Bufero, my Iove.

My dear son, caIm yourseIf, young man.

Oh no! PIease don't compIain, my son!

Just Iisten to Ariosto.

Lucrezia Borgia wouId aIso gIadIy have reIations with such a beast.

You know weII...once... if priests had fathered infants,

they named them their nephews!

However they name their sons now...

Sons of sin! Infants of shame!

Father, you said the Church was prostituted?

Not the HoIy Church!

You are so ignorant.

Listen to Saint Jeremy commenting EzekieI. He says it cIearIy:

"It's to the HoIy Church that we must aIways turn!"

Go back home,

meditate, and Iater you might ponder on this seriousIy.

This is my mother.

Her body is covered.

BeautifuI IittIe ears.

As tin by siIver, brass by goId,

As corn-poppy beside the deepIy-crimsoning rose.

WiIIow by IaureI evergreen, as shorn of Iight.

Stained gIass by gem that richIy gIows...

And we're not onIy taIking about the abuse of women and young boys!

They're interested onIy in dogs or in muIes...

Virgo in gIoria!

The one, whose praise I sing, is not yet born.

She wiII be at aII times of great renown,

of singuIar beauty,

of great wisdom, endowed with aII the rarest quaIities...

And above aII other iIIustrious merits,

with which she wiII be bIessed now and hereafter,

as praises had once been sung of HercuIes and his royaI suit,

and of his sons of great renown.

Great state was given then to rich ornaments, but it mattered IittIe

whether their dress was armour or toga...

for whether good or bad, the true taste of wine changes IittIe

even when decanted into new bottIe.

Sancta Lucrezia!

The Chosen Lamb has descended from heaven,

a goId and purpIe crown upon his head.

AII comes from me.

Caesar, you are aIso my creation.

Tempus fugit... Bring my horse!

The dear Lord has permitted his garden to be trampIed.

Come ye, head of the Church!

Come ye, priests! Come ye, cIerics!

At night, you're abed with concubines.

Yet, at matins, you dare approach the hoIy tabIe of Christ.

Our Lord, Jesus Christ, has ordained me to defend the truth.

And I wiII do so to my Iast breath!

So, mark my words, this very truth wiII burst forth!

The End

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