All language subtitles for The Artist s01e02 The Truth Will Fuck You.eng

[static]

- ?
- [bird squawks]

?

Marian Henry: What is there
to say about Thomas Edison

that hasn't already
been written?

- [smack]
- [Norman yells]

- ?
-Marian: Well, let me tell yo.

- [Thomas moaning]
- Oh, hey, hey, hey.

Marian: The year was 1867,

and I was the very first female
student chosen to participate

at a very prestigious
Ivy League institution.

They called this--

The dawn of a new era.

[applause]

?

[distant chatter]

?

Excuse me, I'm looking
for Bioanthropology 215.

I'm curious if any of you lot might be--

Do you mind if I take a look?

Bioanthropology, hmm.

215.

215.

- 215.
- Yes, 215.

You can read numbers quite well.

You know, I don't recall
where that one is.

Marian: Even though you're
holding a bio textbook

right there?

That's for something different.

Oh, I see.

I see.

You know, if the lot of you
can't muster up a decent retort,

how do you expect to charm
your future wives one day?

Well, we can--we can retort.

Oh, sure, you're telling yourselves it'll be all about

the money, huh?

But the truth is,
women all over the country,

the good ones, anyway,
they are just like me.

They're challenging themselves
to find unique purpose,

to do better, to be better
enlightened women.

I don't want enlightened women.

Thomas Edison: I don't think
you'll have much say

in the matter after long.

All right.

- Are you disagreeing?
- Marian: Yes, they disagree.

It seems they disagree.

Come on. Look at her.

I mean,
she's not a serious person.

- Look at her.
- Marian: Look at me.

I am.

?

Of the 6,072 submissions this
year, there were 908 admissions.

Which makes you all very smart
and very elite.

But this fine lady--your name,
fine lady?

Marian.

Miss Marian here applied against
an entirely separate pool

of applicants.

900 applicants, one slot.

I'm sure I don't have to explain
how ratios work,

but that makes her even more
elite than you.

And I believe that, Marian--may I call you that?

Okay.

I believe the difference between
you lot and Marian

is that she doesn't believe
that any of this is owed to her.

You see, Marian knows that there
are plenty of women

who deserve to be here,
but there needs to be

a first,
a catalyst that sparks

change throughout
the world.

So I suppose what I'm trying to
say is that you're absolutely

right about women.

They don't need
to be enlightened,

but in fact, most already are,

just simply waiting in the wings
for the right moment.

Marian: Rest assured
I most certainly was not in need

of his saving.

- ?
- [passionate moaning]

Marian: If anything, you might
say, that I unknowingly

saved him.

So--

Marian: Dear reader
I must warn that if it is indeed

this narrow love story
that you yearn for,

I might encourage you
to look elsewhere.

- [fire crackling]
- [breathless gasping]

?

- [fire crackling]
- ?

?

Marian: The story is a bit
more complex and sinister.

That was nice.

[fire crackling]

- What's this?
- Marian: What's what?

That's nothing.

Nothing, nothing, nothing.

It's nothing.

I--I just mean to say
it's--it's--it's not ready, yet.

It's--I don't know,
it's far-fetched.

Please--please don't judge me.

I truly am a realist.

You know, I don't expect it
to go anywhere.

God, listen to me
talking myself in circles.

I should--I should really
just shut up

and--and stop talking
myself in circles.

But here I am.

It's--it's really nothing.

?

On the contrary, Miss Marian.

On the contrary.

- [fire crackling]
- ?

? [theme]

?

?

?

?

?

?

[dog barking]

[rooster crowing]

Maid: You're not allowed
in front of the property, Celia.

Celia:
Choke on your mother's tit.

Maid: Tell me I didn't just
see what I just saw.

Celia: What do you think
you saw?

Maid: Don't tell me, Celia.

?

Maid: Filthy, filthy place.

??

[speaking French]

Marian, I implore you
to leave this alone.

Well, I think you're all fucking
cunts and leeches.

- That's what I think.
- Thomas: Shut up!

Shut up!

Thomas: I never lied to you, please.

Marian, shut up!

A woman was never
to be published.

I did you a favor.

They lie to us
with their kind eyes.

Thomas: Quite a brazen.

You are never gonna go to Paris.

Norman Henry: Shut up, Marian!

I'm getting the sense
this isn't entirely about me.

Norman: Marian!

- [smack]
- [Thomas grunts]

?

Well, would you look at that?

He's out cold.

[laughs]

Where's my fucking room?

Where is my fucking room?

My chamber!

Norman! Norman!

- Norman!
- Where is my fucking room?

Where?

Sir, I'll show you to your room.

This way, sir.

To your right, sir.
To your right.

?

Maid: Sir?

- [rooster crows]
- ?

- Maid: Sir?
- Norman: What?

Maid: Sir?

Edgar: Open, you piece of shit!

The bell is broken,
Norman.

Norman: Doctor! Doctor!

I'm trying to tell you that the
bell is broken.

The bell is broken, sir.

But you're in a manic spin.

You see, this is why he losall of his businesses.

He can't keep it together
under pressure.

Marian, I'm begging you
to use discretion.

- Wait. Look at that.
- Norman: I am begging you.

I am begging you.

Oh, you don't want Thomas
to hear?

Anybody who doesn't need
to be here, please go away.

Thomas can't go to the window
right now

as it appears
that he's truly cold under.

Norman: Doctor, doctor, doctor.

Doctor! Doctor!

Marius: Lily, Lily.

Lily, where are you going?

Lilith: To my tent.

- To wait.
- For what?

To be called.

Because I am a whore.

You said I'm a stupid whore.

Because I'm not even paid.

Marius: Oh, don't be so dramatic.

We're all whores.

Lily, don't you do anything brash.

Lily!

Oh, you cunt.

He's nothing but smoke and mirrors.

He's better off dead.

Marian, if you can contribute at
least one thing to this family,

it will be to help me
revive this man.

Well, um, I think you should
get that bell fixed.

Now, that's a meaningful
contribution,

if you ask me,
'cause, you know--

- Norman: Doctor! Doctor!
- I shall fetch him, sir.

Marian:--you never know when
you're gonna need him.

Norman: Doctor! Doctor!
Doctor! Doctor!

Doctor! Doctor!

[Thomas grunts]

Oh, hey, hey, hey, hey!

Your wife's a cunt.

?

Thomas: Look, please.

This is tremendous foolishness
now, please.

How long was he out cold?

Probably ten minutes or so.

Thomas: I have to be on my way,
all right?

This is foolishness.

Mr. Edison, please,
follow my finger.

Would you like me to lead
with my chin or?

No, only the eyes.

- But--okay.
- That was the chin.

Well, I wouldn't recommendhe drive tonight.

Norman: Fine, it is settled.

No, nothing's settled.

What's "settled?"

There's something called
a cerebral oedema.

Do you know what that is?

Never in my life have
I been more accosted.

I was assaulted, really.

My lawyer is going to be my
first letter upon my release

from this prison stint,
that is this hellscape

that you call Rhode Island.

Oh, Mr. Edison, please.

It was nothing more than
the slip.

Let's leave the fine state of
Rhode Island, quite out of it.

Oh, it was a slip of nothing.

It was positively intentional.

And she needs
a real talking to--

Sir, I would never punch
you intentionally.

- What?
- What?

What did you say?

Your wife, sir,
needs a real talking to.

Call me
if you feel any dizziness

or you see black spots.

I should sue is what I should do for libel.

Mr. Edison,
it feels a bit brusque.

That feels terse to you,
does it?

Can I ask you something?

- Yes.
- Honestly.

- Please.
- Are you a serious man?

I believe you know
the answer to that.

Look around.

I drove for hours
to the middle of nowhere

because I was told
that you were someone

who would not waste my time.

And for that, I shall write you
a big, fat check

at favorable
terms, of course.

Yeah, you're going to award me
more than that?

Well, what are you implying?

I'm going to need a formal
apology from your wife, sir,

before a deal can be done.

And let me tell you something,
any deal that could be done,

so it shall be done.

And when it is, it's going to make you more money

than you've ever
seen in your life.

And let me tell you,
that's saying something,

ask your robber baron friends.

Well, of course, she'll apologize, Mr. Edison.

She's not a--a peasant.

She's a Henry.

She's a Henry, for fuck's sake.

A few other things too.

[chuckles]

- ?
- [dog barks]

?

?

Norman: Marian?

Are you awake?

Yes, Norman. What is it?

You got us into trouble today,
Marian.

And I mean that in the most
constructive way I can

because I'm your wife.

My husband.

Instigated madness
in this house.

Madness that's bled through
into my business.

Thomas Edison
is not a business dealing.

He is an ass fucker.

I told you that.

You don't tell me what a
business dealing is.

You don't tell me what
a business dealing is.

Norman, I would ask you to take
two big, deep breaths

before you speak to me again.

You're acting with such savagery
and barbarism

that it's hard to understand--

Savagery and barbarism, Norman,
you're the one who's frothing.

Let me finish.

- I beg you--
- Warthog.

You might think me a dim-witted opportunist,

but you need to set your
differences aside now

for the betterment of
the Henry name.

Mr. Edison has asked
for an apology.

I, for one,
think that's a good idea.

I owe him nothing.

And you're the one
who punched him.

Norman: Do you know
what I think it is?

I think you can't conceive that
an uneducated man like him--

- Uneducated.
- Norman: Uneducated--

Say that again.

--may try to claw his way out of
the rat-infested rungs of--

The rungs of society
where he belongs.

Norman: On his own accord
and make something of his life

without having to marry up.

?

Norman: You will apologize
in the morning.

I know you can hear me.

I know you're not asleep yet.

You think you're the first
artist who's ever whored herself

for a warm bed
and a loaf of stale bread?

You disgust me.

Do you know that I loathe you?

And not because you're an
unadulterated cunt,

but because you somehow actually
believe that your talent

means something more
than all the others.

You believe that you're better than all of us girls,

and you're not.

You're nothing.

You're a passionate nothing.

So don't you fuck us.

Do you hear me?

Don't even think
about fucking this all up.

Look at me.

Look at me.

?

I had ambition once, too.

You know that, don't you?

I was reviewed byThe Times.

- ?
- [Marius whimpers]

- ?
- [heavy breathing and impacts]

Marian: When you create
something, even if it lasts,

but only for a moment,
something you believe

to be truly remarkable
and singular in this world--

Maid: Best to stay outside the house.

Wait until you're summoned,
Lily.

Do you hear?

Marian:--and then to have it
ripped away without an ounce

of acknowledgement by a complete
and utter nobody,

you'd think, perhaps, that one
might feel rage, bitterness.

?

Marian: But the truth is--the truth is,

I could never get past the shame
because it was always my fault.

All of it.

Tell me she's a liar.

[Marian breathing heavily]

Lilith: Tell me she's a liar.

I will go to Paris, yes?

?

Norman: I will see you
on that stage in Paris

if it's the very, very
last thing I do.

Marian: Annoying self-hatred
that rattles you to your core.

Because deep down, you know
that you're better

than the bed you've made.

?

Student: Did you hear the news?

He did it.

- Tommy did it!
- Tommy did what?

What did Tom do?

Student: He figured
the whole damn thing out.

Direct current.

Using direct current,
we can generate heat

just like the candles in
this very room,

only it is enclosed
within a glass tube.

Student: But what does it mean?

Just speak plainly, you louse.

Marian: It's a candle that can burn forever

without ever needing tending.

?

?

?

Congratulations, Thomas.

I am so very proud
of what you have accomplished.

?

We'll continue this another day.

?

Pardon me, miss.

Oh, it's okay, Ida.

Ida: I--I thought you were
asleep by now.

I didn't realize, I--I drew
your curtains about half past.

- I'm very sorry.
- Marian: It's fine.

I suppose that's the reason.

I'm very sorry, Miss.

Ida?

Are you frightened of me?

Pardon, miss?

I sense a liberal amount of
anxiety pulse through your veins

every time I turn a corner.

I see.

Is it like that with Mr. Henry,
too?

It's okay. You may go.

I'm not frightened, miss.

You just confused me,
that's all.

?

Ida: Good evening, ma'am.

?

I'll be right back to the west
in a jiffy.

You, sit in at the table for me, take my place.

- [dog barking]- Maid: I know.

[Edgar speaking French]

Madame?

[Edgar speaking French]

Maid, are you with hound?

Am I with what?

The poodles.

Are you with the poodles?

Yes, sir.

Their evening walk.

Are they the very same poodles that I paint?

Yes, sir.

Edgar: Oh, they seem less fidgety in the twilight.

Well, I suppose maybe they are
perhaps a little more relaxed

in the evening.

So we paint in the evenings.

Ah!

Do you hear? Bon.

?

Edgar: What's this fidgety?

[Edgar mumbling]

?

Oh mon dieu.

- Oh.
- It's--it's all right.

I'm--

Je suis d�sol�.

Um--

Madam.

Bon soir.

Marian: For an artist
who painted poodles,

his passion was
surprisingly palpable.

Passion I hadn't felt in years.

And for just a moment,
I felt like a woman again.

?

Marian: A dangerous woman.

With her own thoughts
and her own ideas.

?

Marian: And quite a bit of power.

?

Marian: I asked myself if anyone
might hear him

gasping for breath

if I strangled him right then
and there with a pillow.

[Edgar speaking French]

[Edgar speaking French and laughing]

[Edgar speaking French
and laughing]

- [kissing noises]
- ?

- [barking]
- [laughs]

?

?

I don't care about you.

I don't care about you.

[heavy breathing]

- Handsome fucker.
- [Thomas grunts]

Marian: But the truth remained,
I didn't hold the power.

He did.

Oh, how history might have been
written differently

had I not lost myself in him.

- Student: Copper wire.
- No.

What's inside of a barometer?

Marian: But in both of them.

- ?
- [laughter]

?

Marian: Instead,
I sat empty, powerless,

on the floor of a home that
was in my husband's name.

A home that we would not be ableto afford without the proceeds

from a deal with this man
who had ruined me.

Oof!

I told myself, at no point would
I wallow in self-pity

as I write to you.

So I believe it best we break
for an intermission

so that I might regain
my composure.

[film reel clicks]

Reporter: Come one, come all
to the city that never sleeps.

New York City.

Rub shoulders
with the high society elite

at the Madison Square Garden
Rooftop Theatre,

designed by acclaimed architect
Stanford White.

Feast your senses upon the greatest arena

in this world-famous metropolis.

The only building on the island with a rooftop cabaret,

now open Sunday.

- ?
- [film reel clicks]

Marian: The following morning
was a Tuesday.

I knew this
because there had been

a murder in the city
the night before.

This was one of those
unconnected events

that would ultimately contribut
to my husband's untimely demise.

?

- [chatter] - ?

?

Cook: Is there anything interesting?

There's been a killing in the city.

Oh, I fucking hate the city.

?

Oh!

Cunt.

Oh!

Cunt.

Oh!

?

[speaking French]

??

[speaking French]

?

Maid: Hey, Maria.

Hey, you know,
I think that the missus

was shagging Mr. Edison
yester eve.

- ? - [chatter]

?

Edison: Oh, deplorable.

Absolutely deplorable.

- Have you seen this?
- Huh? What?

Thomas: The murder
of Stany White.

Absolutely unbelievable.

He was so proud of
the--the rooftop at the Garden.

Have you been up there?

- ?
- Evelyn Nesbit: Harry! Harry!

Madison Square Garden?

Of course, of course.

Yeah, but have you been up top
to the cabaret there?

The--it's absolutely wonderful.

A view of the city
in every direction.

Mr. Edison,
I've just said I've been.

I wasn't exactly sure
if you had.

What made you unsure?

I think it was your tone, sir.

Norman: Mm.

- Good morning, Marian.
- Marian: Morning.

- Morning, Marian.
- Marian: Morning.

Norman: Have you heard?

Uh, yes, it's deplorable.

It is absolutely deplorable.

Harry always struck me as a man
I'd never want to find myself

alone in a room with.

Norman: Well, of course not.

You're a married woman.

Oh, yes, I agree with that.

Married women should definitely
not be left unattended in rooms

and such.

Well, he has just
murdered a man,

so I imagine
it's more than just,

you know,
the married woman thing,

wouldn't you think?

I'm sorry.

- Do you know the murderer?
- Yes, yes, we do.

Well, you know, he is
an associate of, um, Norman's

to some degree or other.

So we've had them over,
and they've had us over,

you know the way it goes.

Well, isn't thata little bit troubling?

I'm one signature away
from being the associate

of an associate of a murderer.

Norman: We're just mere
acquaintances.

Harry's always had
a screw loose.

Darling, you remember
the time--

Marian: At the race horses?

Yeah, but, you know,
was that even his real mother?

Well,
not when he was done with her.

Well,
not when he was done with her.

- Mr. Henry, sir?- Yes.

This message came in for you,
sir.

Marian: It was a note
on prison letterhead

from the murderer himself.

Take care of poor Evelyn
until it's time for her

to testify on my behalf.

I'm afraid she's my only way out of this mess.

This mess? Murder?Misunderstanding?

Write that, "misunderstanding."

Thomas: May I suggest
that you distance yourself

Thomas: May I suggest that you distance yourself

from this person?

I mean, he's a madman, isn't he?

Playing devil's advocate a moment because--

Weren't you meant to be
on your way?

I was meant to, yes.

Stanford White did rape her,
if I'm not mistaken.

Marian: The incident happened--

- Norman:--plenty of times--
- --before they even met.

So why linger?

Norman: What's a man to do,
idly sit by?

Well, it's morning out here,
Marian.

Norman: But a raping
is a raping, if you ask me.

Marian: Yeah,
but Harry is a murderer.

Do you not find your wife's tone
a little bit of trouble?

Why are you still here?

Tone, Marian.

- Marian: I--
- Tone, tone.

Thomas: You just seem so bitter,
Marian.

So very bitter,
and yet, apparently,

you've been handed the world.

How dare you?

You just don't seem happy, Marian.

Well, I am happy.

Well, you sure there's not an
ounce of regret?

Not a shred.

Nothing?

Wow.

You bitter, lonely little man.

Is that all you have left?

Is it?

The need to placate
your wrongdoings

by trying to force me

to admit that I might
have been better off?

I'm not following.

- What does "placate" mean?
- What?

- To--to--to--
- It's to mollify.

Marian: To appease.

Norman, I have told you
what this man is.

Why won't you believe me?

I mean, I knowI am--I am tempestuous,

but have you ever known
me to be a liar?

What the fuck
does "mollify" mean?

Thomas: What am I, Marian?

Hm?

No, what am I?

- Step away from me.
- Norman: Don't shout, Marian.

Marian: I'm not shouting.

I'm calm.

I am completely calm
and collected.

You know he's the man
who invented the light bulb.

For heaven's sake,
give him some respect.

?

- [glass shatter]
- Norman: Jesus fucking Christ!

Don't touch that glass.

You don't touch that glass,
Gretchen.

It's not your mess to clean up.

No, you're right about that.

You are absolutely right about that.

Well, I guess that's my cue.

Norman, he did not invent
the light bulb.

Oh, Marian, for fuck's sake.

Norman, please.

He did not invent
the light bulb.

I suppose you know who did.

[Norman scoffs]

?

Look at me.

Look at me.

?

You can't, can you?

?

?

Pardon, ma'am.

Norman: I'm so very sorry
that you've had to endure

such preposterous ridicule.

You have my sympathy
for what you have to put up with

on a daily basis.

?

?

[Marian screaming
from outside]

[Marian screaming
from outside]

?

[Marian screaming]

Crazy twat.

[screaming]

Thomas: You left your books.

Just leave them.

Thomas: Here, you will need
these, I assure you.

- Just leave them.
- Marian!

Just fucking leave them!

Marian, you need to calm down.

The nerve.

And I want to say, men,
the nerve of men.

But no, I've come to
the realization

that you are not men.

No, no, you are so much worse.

You are an abomination.

And you can take this
entire institution

and fuck it.

What am I even saying?

You're not even a member
of this institution.

You're a squatter,
a research assistant.

Yeah, you're nothing.

How can you do that after what
you just did to me?

You smile?

You stand there with a smugness
that permeates to my very core

and makes me
want to take up boxing.

I'm very sorry, Marian,
but I'm entirely confounded

by this behavior.

It's not very ladylike at all,
I'm afraid.

Oh, you're confounded.

Are you dumb?

Are you mentally retarded?

Keep your voice down.

I said, "Are you mentally
fucking retarded?"

Marian, I would just watch
my tone if I were you.

Mariam: Or what?

Marian, I was always gonna add
your name to the work,

but you know as well as I--

--that women can't publish
on their own.

Yes, but they will.

I will.

You've stolen my work, Thomas.

- We're a team, you and I.
- No, no, we are not.

We are not a team at this.

My mind, my thoughtsare not communal.

They are holy mine!

- Thomas: Marian--
- No!

Marian, will you--will you just--just marry me?

[Marian scoffs]

?

I will never, ever marry you,
Thomas.

Not ever!

?

?

?

?

[bird squawks]

[Marian screams]

[Marian screams]

[speaking French]

Shut up!

[screaming continues]

Ah, merde!

[speaks French]

Shut up!

- [screaming] - [yelling in French]

Shut up!

- [screaming] - [yelling in French]

- Shut up!
- [smack]

Don't you ever
speak to me like that.

Do you hear me?

Ever!

I have had quite the morning
of abuse.

And I will not be spoken to
by a fake fucking artist

who paints fucking poodles?

Do you hear me?

Do you hear me?

Oui, I hear you.

I hear you.

- ?
- Edgar: Ah, oui.

- ?
- [speaks French]

- [door closes]
- [bird squawks]

Everything all right?

Lilith: Lookie look.

Now he comes to rescue her
from the crazy Frenchman.

He's so possessive of her.

- Oh, he doesn't love her.
- Lilith: I believe he does.

Well, you're stupid.

Honey, if he loved her, why
would he be parading you around

like his little pony?

He is a complicated man.

The painting is finished.

- It is?
- It is?

Would you like to see it?

She thinks it a foolish venture,
my commissioning poodles.

Yes, well,
I don't usually paint poodles.

What do you usually paint?

Marius: Oh, look at her.

She's just begging to be fucked.

You see how she looks
at the artist?

She can't help herself.

This, we both agree on.

Why don't you have the painting
brought to my study,

and then we'll settle up
and get on your way.

Now, now.

Good time, now.

Now, please.

Marius: Oh,
she's a terrifying woman.

I mean,
I can understand why he can't,

you know,
make the whole thing work.

Are you scared
of powerful women?

Not all of them.

She's the reason
I'm not whizzing back to Paris.

I can't understand that logic.

She doesn't believe
I deserve to succeed.

She'd rather seem trapped
in a cage with her

living in a circle of hell over
and over again.

Oh, darling,
it just doesn't add up.

If it were up to Marian, she
would have sent you back to

Paris months ago.

She hates you, Lily.

All right.

Les Saisons,Gunther, please.

From the top.

You know, for a smart girl, you're really quite daft

about the dynamics here
in the country.

Norman: Marian.

[sighs] Yeah?

I'm sorry.

What for?

For not understanding you
and the way a husband should,

I suppose.

I do wish sometimes,
just sometimes,

you could simply
speak truth and honesty

instead of--instead of dancing
around your thoughts like

a romantic.

Maybe I am a romantic.

Well, you're not French,
thank God.

I told you the truth, Norman.

In simple terms,
I told you the truth.

He left Marian.

You can quit the charade.

He's gone about his business.

All done now.

Truth doesn't matter anyway.

You're my wife, you know?

Here we are.

Marian: Ironically, the feeling
of resignation that sat

squarely between his eyes that
day was the very same emotion

that I had wrestled with
for most of our marriage.

Well, um--

[sighs]

I appreciate that, Norman.

Uh, you know, for--for trustingme on this one.

Thank you.

Marian: There will be other
deals, I promise.

But unfortunately
the truth was for Norman Henry,

there would be no other deals.

Not ever again.

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