Original subtitles

You're not bringing that muck in here. It's only clay, madam.

I'm a sculptor. A sculptor. But that's just an excuse for getting women to get

their clothes off. Those women, as you call them, are mothers.

You're not coming in here until you pay the rent you owe me.

But everything I own is in that room.

Get out. Get out before I go to police.

Figaro? Is that you?

Figaro?

Figaro?

Welcome back to mama.

In here.

What are you doing to my beautiful walls?

Covering the holes in your beautiful plaster.

I hope you are not having a party. Oh, absolutely not, madame. You know my

rules about the noise?

I'm sorry, I didn't hear you. You were saying... My rules about the noise.

Yes, we know.

Thank you.

Oh, please, Miss Rebecca.

You're supposed to be wheeling in the chair. I'm far too unperfectly capable

walking upright. But the doctor said that you... Actually, I don't give a

what the doctor said.

Ah, Rebecca.

Demure and ladylike as always.

I've just been showing Hugo Paris from the air.

So he can admire all the fine buildings he's designed.

The architects curse to see only the flaws.

I intend to remedy them.

Well, it all looks pretty perfect to me.

Paris is anything but perfect, Miss Fogg.

Filthy streets.

Disease -ridden slums.

Future generations will be shocked to know that we lived in such squalor.

Remind you of anyone?

You sound exactly like Jules Verne.

Jules Verne? Who was he? Well, he must be the only man in Paris whose ideas are

as vast and complicated as yours.

Well, I'd like to meet him.

Well, you shall. We're seeing him tonight. It's his birthday.

Should be a hell of an experience for you.

Well, that's interesting.

What is it?

Oh, it's just how I see the city of the future.

Big, beautiful buildings made of glass and steel and copper. Full of light,

streamlined and spacious with no dark corners for evil to hide in.

Evil will always find a place to hide, my friend.

In the future, cities will expand vertically, like so.

Buildings will...

stretch into the sky.

Looks like a lot of stairs to climb.

But if we can harness the power of electromagnetism, we can take people

ground to the highest floor in a matter of minutes.

Imagine the view from up there.

But you've already got the best view in Paris.

I'm Jamaican. No wonder every artist in Paris wants her to pose.

Anjali! Jules wants to talk to you.

Oh, no.

Yes, I do.

I'm like an idiot.

Wait, wait, wait. Don't... No wonder you sleep alone.

Thomas!

Another caja.

Mm -hmm.

I'm afraid our little friend Jewel here is hopelessly lost.

He is in love with the divinely unattainable Angelique.

Unattainable for some, she falls for three of my pieces.

Of course, she was your Madonna. And your nude, Venus, one of my personal

favorites.

How can you talk about naked models when there's a monster loose in the street?

She has a point.

This killer is costing me business.

Nobody wants to stay late or get too drunk in case they meet him on the way

home. Poor Madame Dupuy.

May God have mercy on her soul.

Wasn't she always trying to evict you? And locking you out if you weren't home

by midnight.

Have some respect for the dead.

They don't charge any rent.

Wait, wait, wait.

Isn't that mud under your nails?

What else would it be?

I'm a sculptor. How convenient.

Your landlady dying so suddenly.

Go to hell, Nadal. Oh, come on, Duval.

It's just a joke.

What an idiot.

Thank you, Rebecca.

These are wonderful.

They are stereoscopic, which I'm told is an excellent thing.

Hello.

Sorry, Rebecca.

All right, what's she called?

Just the neighbor.

And, um, is she pretty?

Beautiful.

Lovely.

Radiant.

The bar.

I was hoping she'd come tonight, but I... I guess she forgot.

Hugo!

Delighted you came. Delighted. Come meet the...

Sir Hugo Basil, Jules Verne, and Brigitte.

Brigitte, sorry.

I'm so sorry.

Ciao.

Sir Hugo Basil, the architect.

It's an honor to meet you, sir.

I thought that Sir Hugo might be interested in seeing some of your

Verne. Now, this one, for example.

What materials do you

envision?

Copper, glass, the taller buildings would have frameworks of steel.

I'm impressed by her.

I think I found a way to build a multi -story building that's both safe and

stable. So have I, in fact.

Sky's the limit.

But there is one problem, isn't there?

How to get to the top.

Exactly.

Exactly. Which is why I've been working on this.

An electromagnetic lift.

Everybody, please.

We are here to honor the birthday of our good friend, Master

Jules Verne.

Break it now, it compounds fracture.

We'll have to immobilize the leg.

Do you hear that, Rebecca?

Immobilize? As in keep still?

Well, never mind the leg.

What was that thing I saw?

I'm going to get you back to shilling with Magna. Absolutely not.

I'm not leaving Paris while that thing is out there.

You're right, Monica.

You're not leaving Paris.

In fact, you're not leaving this room.

What? I'm afraid your condition is very serious.

There must be somewhere more comfortable that I can recuperate.

Not that your room is not charming, Jules.

You do want to walk again?

Yes, I do.

Then you will not leave this room until your leg has a chance to heal.

Now look, I'll lend you passport too.

Vern and I will plan for ourselves on the Aurora.

God help us.

You might be the only one left in the street, Rebecca.

We have to hurry.

Come along, everyone.

I'd call it mass hysteria if I hadn't seen the bodies myself.

Some of these people are old.

They're terrified.

I'm sorry. You must believe me.

I didn't mean to do it.

Not to mention superstitious.

You didn't mean to do what, Madame Le Duc?

That creature outside. I didn't mean for people to die. What are you saying?

A few months ago, we were all approached by a Monsieur Barbiloff to sell our

properties. But he offered so little, we said no.

Very, very wise. He frightened me.

He gave me nightmares like when I was a child in Praha.

And my mother would call me with stories about the golem. The what? The golem.

I've heard of it.

A myth about a Czech rabbi who created a monster out of clay and water. But it's

not a myth, monsieur. It's true.

Rabbi Lowe brought the golem to life to protect us against the pogroms.

I didn't mean to do it, but the words, they came back to my mind.

I spoke them aloud.

Let there be a living soul in this body of earth.

Oh, it was nothing, just words, but oh.

Now, you can't really believe that you summoned up a golem, have you? Some kind

of creature from the night, some beast. But as soon as you... I brought back the

golem, and now instead of helping us, he is killing us.

These powders appear to be unpressed. We found three samples.

This was found on the wall outside my window, and this was found near the body

of Madame Dupuy.

But they're both clay, like in the statutes.

And very special clay.

It's red because of the ironing. Ironing? Speaking of ironing, why would

need so much iron?

For sticking to magnets?

Anyone listening to what I'm saying? It would take a very strong magnetic field.

I take the results from Mr. Rebecca.

I am her legs.

And she is my brain. Before you go past her, do you care to make a pot of

coffee? I'm sorry, Master. Mr.

Rebecca is waiting. Mr. Undrinkable Man.

Don't worry, Fox.

Mr. Hugo has invited us to lunch.

I see it is.

Leave all that.

I want you to find out all the information you can about golems.

Golems? Mm -hmm. Oh, but first... Let me take you away from the window.

Passpartout, put me back.

Oh, and fetch me my gun.

Over there. Next time a golem happens to be passing, I intend to be rather more

ready for him.

But this is not good for a monster.

You need a cannon?

Thank you.

These ideas are decades ahead of their time. A bird throws away more ideas in a

week than most men dream up in a lifetime.

May I borrow this?

Uh, no.

No, I'm sorry. I don't think I can think without it.

You know, I wish I could feel more excitement about this bright, shining

of yours.

Well, Phileas thinks the slum I live in has character.

Of course, he's never had to chip the ice off his own shaving water.

The tenements under Rue de Spree should be torn down years ago.

Barely fit for human habitation.

Yes.

Thank you.

A broth?

Very good, sir.

And if I may add, very tasty.

Mm -hmm.

Alas, not everyone agrees with my visions of the future.

Yes, and what precisely is your vision, Hugo?

Triumph. Order and purity over filth and decay.

Straight lines, right angles.

The architecture of the rational mind.

Yes, yes. Beautiful, tall buildings.

Full of light.

Bright, clean homes, schools, hospitals.

You're thinking too small now.

My parish will stand as a monument to everything that is great and powerful.

Fast, public buildings.

Glittering towers rising into the sky.

What about the ordinary people?

Oh, forget them. Most of them prefer to live in squalor anyway.

I disagree.

Well, perhaps we could change the subject.

Despite your lamentable lack of direction, I am very taken with your

I'd like to see more of your designs.

I don't think so. Then?

Ordinary people live in squalors because people like you give them no

alternative.

You insult me.

You insult the people of Paris.

What are you doing here, Felix?

I'm moving in.

I've been evicted.

Well, as you can see, I'm afraid I have beaten you to it.

Believe me, I would leave if I could.

But can I at least leave my camera equipment here?

No. No, you can't. Not there. You can leave it up there where it won't be in

way.

Anything else you'd like me to do?

Yes. Whilst you're here, you can tidy all that mess up up there. I can't get

those damn steps. It's been driving me mad.

Well, as much as I've enjoyed our little visit... Don't go!

I, uh... Well, I wanted to ask you... Where

were you last night?

I had some business to attend to.

What sort of business?

Are you interrogating me now?

Yes, I suppose I am.

What's he doing at Angelique?

The old battle axe stole my home out from under me.

And when I run for refuge to my good old friend Jules here, what do I find?

His room has been taken over by some crazy woman in a wheelchair.

Mr. Barbala bought your building.

Uh -huh.

Oh, now, perfect.

Oh, it's a leak!

I'm dying for a drink.

What have you two been up to?

That's none of your business.

Wait, wait, wait.

Isn't that reddish clay?

What if it is? Leave her alone, Nada.

So, Jewel, how was your meeting with Sir Hugo Bezel?

As a matter of fact.

Angelique, something wrong?

Nothing.

You know Bezel?

A little.

Angelique knows everyone a little.

Shut up, Nada.

Of course, they know her even better since she's usually posing in the nude.

Somebody should teach you respect.

Stop it, Snow.

Let's get out of here.

I'm sorry, Jules.

Let go of me.

Don't touch me.

Come on, let's go back up.

You're just like the others.

Suffocated. Same as the others.

Lungs and nasal passages full of mud.

Not a very nice way to die.

Tell me, Monsieur Verne, did he beg for his life before you killed him?

I didn't kill him.

You were found with the body.

Your hands were covered in clay.

And several people saw you fighting with him not 20 minutes before his death.

Are those not the facts, monsieur?

I didn't kill him.

Mademoiselle, are those the facts?

Yes.

Was the victim your lover, mademoiselle?

No.

I'd advise you to tell me the truth.

He was my model.

He was your model.

You're just like all the artists I pose for.

You only see my body, you don't look deeper.

Claude took me seriously.

We had an agreement.

I pose for his class and he pose for me.

Bloody artists.

What are you doing?

Perhaps you'll make a burst of your head, monsieur.

After you lose it to the guillotine.

I didn't kill him, Park.

I'm not the golem. Of course you aren't.

For one thing, you're far too sure.

I feel like I'm in a nightmare.

I can't wake up.

Jules could never murder anybody.

I'm going to tell that police inspector myself.

Ah, now that's an excellent idea. Excellent!

But with any luck, it might even break the other leg.

Jules is our friend.

Which is precisely why the police won't believe you.

Well, why the hell aren't you out there trying to prove his innocence?

Well, I was rather enjoying my coffee.

Oh.

Phileas, I saw the golem and it was not Jules Verne.

Well, I saw something.

It is my leg that's damaged, not my powers of observation.

She is lovely, isn't she?

My friend is in prison, Phileas.

Where are you going?

To prove he's innocent.

Ah, Professor Sue. Yes, sir.

Wonderful coffin.

If I ever get you back, remind me to give you a raise.

With pleasure, Master.

Oh, damn this leg.

Oh. Passport two, you're going to have to do some investigating for me.

I don't mean to disturb your breakfast, but I just would like to know your

whereabouts at around ten last night.

We were here, in the cafe.

Oh, except... Ah, except... Me?

I left right after Jules did.

Did you go, Monsieur Nadar?

Well, that is none of your business.

Do I have to remind you that Jules Verne is currently confined to a prison cell

on a murder charge?

I went for a walk to cool down.

You hated Duval, didn't you?

I didn't... I was in a bad mood.

His landlady evicted him. She sold his building.

How's Jules?

He's no murderer.

I can swear to that.

Are you satisfied now?

Just don't tell Bridget, okay?

No, honey.

You know it's you I know.

Paul. Hello, man. I have an idea on how the creature might be formed. Thank you.

First, I couldn't figure out how to use clay to adhere to its body. But then I

figured, if the creature could generate enough electromagnetic force to hold its

form, and with sufficient iron in the clay, we have gold.

Now, I wonder where this special clay originates.

Angelique would probably know.

Be careful, Fox.

I don't trust her anymore.

Come on, get up.

What?

Looks like you've got friends in high places.

Let me go.

Just till you're tired.

Then I intend to personally see you executed.

Now this is fine work.

Do you think so? Yes, I do.

You're clearly a woman of remarkable talent.

Thank you.

But you didn't come here to admire my sculpture.

No, no, I didn't. How did you do it for this one?

No, no, I'm here to help Jules Verne.

You don't really believe he's a murderer, do you?

I don't know what to think.

He was standing by poor Claude with hands covered in clay. Yes, this clay,

fact, which is the very same clay that Verne found outside his window and the

police found on Madame de Pou's body. And the same clay, in fact, that...

that you'd use in your sculpture.

That's impossible.

Claude has it... had it... mixed specially.

He said the iron gave it the great vibrancy.

Did he indeed?

Do, um... Do you know where he got it from?

Sir Hugo?

Yes, sir.

I'm sorry I had you brought here in such an unconventional manner, but I guard

my privacy quite jealously.

Where is this place?

I discovered it when I was surveying the sewers for a subterranean transport

system.

You work down here?

Think of it as a sort of an experiment, sir.

To prove that people can live happily underground.

I believe that one day everyone will live down here and only surface to do

work.

I don't understand.

Well, imagine it, sir.

Every day or every night, a team of workmen would clean and repair the city,

making it perfect.

And every day, Paris would sparkle like new.

Perfect.

As in no people.

Cities are a monument, Vern.

To art and aspiration.

In your heart, you know that.

Which is why I'm inviting you to become my partner.

Your partner?

Yes.

You're a very talented young man, Vern.

And I'm afraid my ideas don't flow as freely as they once did.

You're the greatest architect in Europe.

In the world, Monsieur Vern.

And the witches.

Your tea, sir.

Thank you, Morgan. But I'm afraid I have a rather pressing engagement.

Some tea, Vern.

We can continue this discussion later.

Morgan will make sure that you have everything you need.

Wait.

I'll go with you.

Morgan will take good care of you.

And when I return...

You will tell me how to get to the top of a multi -story building.

Perhaps I could just...

Did

you make this promise?

A private pupil of Claude's.

A very rich and powerful man.

I modeled for him and he gave us all the clay we needed.

In Paris, good clay is so expensive.

Oh, God.

I just came to see if...

Can I give you a hand?

Got the time?

Mr. Byrne, you're even cleverer than I gave you credit for.

You're going to use my watch to frame me for another murder?

Come now, Byrne.

You're not a killer.

You won't shoot me.

He might not.

But I certainly will.

Do you have any idea how much good I've done in this city?

How many disease -ridden slums that I've eliminated?

I've given my life to Paris.

And that entitles you to play God?

As a matter of fact, yes.

Or the devil.

Why, Hugo?

How could a man of your vision descend to this level?

City of the future.

This is where it would have begun.

And you, Var.

You could have been a part of this.

I could never be part of your diabolical plan.

He tastes your food.

Risk poisoning.

Does anything you ask of him?

He's no good to anyone anymore.

Nothing there.