Original subtitles

red shoes.

Some say all the good men are taken.

Not true.

I see them every day.

I work alongside them, teaching, debating.

They're successful, smart, handsome,

and totally uninteresting.

So I hope that gives you a very clear and concise idea of how both sides work

this case.

Okay, for your assignment, I want you to write a summary on the case of Harvey

v. Kelly.

Now give me your opinions on what compensations, if any, should be awarded

the prosecuting party and why.

Okay? It's due Friday. You can come pick up the case studies on my desk on the

way out.

That was until I met Davis Bateman.

Beautiful.

Intelligent.

Single.

Absolutely perfect.

Unfortunately, he was a student of mine.

Off limits within my own personal code of ethics.

An absolute no -no.

Excuse me, Professor Manning. Could I have a word with you?

Of course, Mr.

Bateman. David Bateman.

Professor, I missed your lecture on civil basics last week.

So I was wondering if you had a moment or two just to explain some of the

that I missed.

My lectures aren't optional, Mr. Bateman.

David, attendance is mandatory.

I realize that, Professor, and I do apologize.

I had some personal business back home to take care of. Oh?

Where is back home?

London. London, England, actually. Yes.

My father's a barrister, actually. Just recently appointed.

Our attraction was instant.

Mutual.

I could see it in his eyes.

His every move.

And even though it was never spoken, his respect for me as a teacher, I know,

weighed heavily on him.

I'm going to need some coffee first.

He, too, was a victim of his own integrity.

So, Davis, what brings you to America?

My parents, actually.

It's always been their wish that I study abroad.

And what do you plan to make your specialty?

Business.

Really?

Yeah. Oh, gosh.

That can feel disappointing.

Not necessarily. I mean, in order for a country to work, the economy has to

work.

And where did your parents study?

Oxford, actually, yeah.

Unfortunately, that didn't give us much time together as a family, but, you

know, we're very proud of them.

There's six of us altogether, actually.

Two of them are lawyers.

The rest are doctors.

So, yeah, as you see, it evened itself out along the way.

Well, I just want to thank you for your time. Thank you so much.

Listen, David.

A friend of mine is in a play tonight, and she just sent me two tickets, and I

promised to go.

Would you like to go?

Um, well... It isn't an ethical question here. It's just a play.

Sure.

Yes? Okay.

Well, why don't you pick me up at my place at 7 .30?

7 .30? Yes.

I'll see you there.

Okay.

I knew I loved you.

Ever since one night when your voice I never would have known breathed your

to me.

You must have suffered, but you must have seen how careless I was.

To be loved for the mere disguise, the body you went about in, to a soul like

yours must have been agony.

Forgive me.

For I have only loved but one man in my life.

And I've lost him twice.

Everything was unsaid.

A look.

A smile.

A meeting after class.

Listen, thanks for coming with me tonight.

You look like you really enjoyed yourself.

Actually, I should be thanking you.

The pleasure was all mine.

I really did enjoy it. Thank you. Great.

Thank you for a lovely evening.

Absolutely perfect.

Student or no student.

Good night.

I must have been nuts.

Another day.

Another class.

I couldn't shake the thought of him.

He haunted me.

My work was suffering.

I was suffering.

And then I began receiving letters in the mail.

Anonymous letters.

Love letters.

The writer was bold.

Poetic.

Tender.

Generous.

Every line, every word hit its mark.

It had to be Bateman.

I'm in a hotel room in a strange city.

A bed.

A chair.

A desk.

A siren wails.

The flashing blue and red lights dance across the walls

as the ambulance passes.

I shut my eyes.

Everything disappears.

The room.

The light.

All sound.

Nothing else exists but the thought of you.

Your eyes.

Your lips.

Your silent breath.

I kiss you.

Tenderly. Gently.

You do not witness.

You slide beneath me.

You enter me.

You do not move.

I feel your heart beating.

No walls.

No time.

Another day.

It's raining.

It's sunny.

Windy.

Cold and hot all at the same time.

We begin to dance.

I dance you outside.

Trees, blue sky, the ocean, the clouds. A train passes.

I break away.

I dance alone.

I dance for you.

I dance alone.

I dance for you.

I feel your heart beating.

No walls.

No time.

Since practice finals are approaching, I thought I'd see how you all react under

a little pressure.

So, I prepared a hypothetical case for you to analyze.

Evaluate the situation, list case histories, and summarize any

monetary damages.

Now, don't forget emotional damages.

Now, you guys, I realize that this can't be typed, so obviously handwriting will

be acceptable this time.

Okay, you have the rest of the class, period.

Now, forgive my spontaneous cruelty, but believe me, it's good for you.

Okay, that's it.

Your time is up.

And in your work, on the way out.

It had to be Bane.

But I needed proof.

I gave a pop test.

I matched his handwriting to the letter.

It was him.

Are you ready to get out of here?

Hey, Tony.

You need to slow down.

How about slowing down over a drink or two?

Hey, that would be great.

Why don't we do that someday?

You lean back onto the bright white sheets.

The bed is in the center of the room.

My lips trace your chest.

Your stomach.

The inside of your thighs.

I lean back.

Your eyes lock with mine.

We do not need words.

Tears of joy well.

Roll down my cheeks.

Taking my face in both your hands.

I kiss them away.

The school bell rings.

Children's voices fill the air.

There's a hill beyond my father's house.

And beyond the hill, a grove of trees.

I dream of taking you there.

Someday.

My arm intertwined with yours.

Your head on my shoulder.

The sweet smell of your hair.

Your skin.

Billowing clouds.

Mist.

The dress I'm wearing is sheer and light as a feather.

I can see the outline of your body through it.

You take my hand and bring my fingers to your moist lips.

I shut my eyes.

Everything disappears.

The room.

Nothing else exists but the thought of you.

I kiss you.

Tenderly. Gently.

You do not resist.

You slide beneath me.

I answer you.

We do not move.

I feel your heart beating.

Your eye.

Your lip.

Your eyes lock with mine.

We do not need words.

We do not need words.

Beautiful, intelligent, single.

Everything was unsaid.

What was I going to do?

You wanted to see me?

Sit down.

Excellent line of attack for the defense, David.

But you're extremely unsympathetic to your client.

I feel that you've...

neglected to consider the repercussions of one's actions.

You're going to want to write this down.

Your client's letter to the shareholders was to inform them that

their dividends wouldn't be as large as they originally anticipated.

He wasn't trying to rip them off. He was only trying to...

Correct a mistake that's been made by a clumsy typist.

But the legal question here isn't about the typo, but more about how words are

perceived by the people who read them.

Like Serenade de Bergerac, a man who nature has been so cruel to

in one respect, but so generous in another.

Imagine if he had been as beautiful as his words.

We do not need words.

Your eyes lock with mine.

I shut my eyes.

Everything disappears.

The room, the light, all sound.

Nothing else exists but the thought of you.

The school bell rings.

Children's voices fill the air.

Your eyes, your lips, your silent breath.

I kiss you, tenderly, gently.

You do not resist.

I feel your heart beating.

No time.

You slide beneath me.

I answer you.

We do not move.

I feel your heart beating.

No walls.

No time.

It's sunny.

Cold and hot all at the same time.

We begin to dance.

I dance you outside.

Tree.

Blue sky.

The ocean.

The clouds.

My lips trace your breath.

Your stomach.

The inside of your thighs.

We do not need words.

So there you have it, red shoes.

Longing.

I haven't had feelings that intense since I was a teenager.

It was like a dream.

Safe and cozy.

Romance with a capital R. Good old -fashioned romance.