Original subtitles

Hello. I'm Marv.

Today we're gonna discuss baths.

More specifically, how to take one.

Baths have been around for a long time.

The ancient Romans built fancy ones,

like Caracalla.

In the Middle Ages they were called stews,

because you had to be stewed in order to take one.

They were open to both sexes.

Today the Japanese have bisexual bathing.

Here in America we didn't bathe so much until recently.

The Saturday night bath used to be a ritual.

Today it's more like every other day

or... even every day.

How do I know this?

People have told me. That's how.

Start drawing your bath

until it gets to the temperature you want.

Meanwhile, remove clothing.

Carefully insert your big toe in the waters.

This will tell you if it's too hot or too cold.

Hopefully it'll be just right.

Once in the tub, start soaping.

Start with the armpits

and work down to the genital area.

Work carefully in ever-widening circles.

Breathing, breathing.

In short, gentlemen,

because of the destabilization

the blasting jelly has become depressurized...

All 500 pounds of it.

The only thing

that keeps it from going off and destroying us all

is the 50 fathoms of ocean pressure above our heads.

If we were to rise any higher,

we'd be blown to Nep...

We haven't surfaced in months.

We need food.

-We need oxygen. -We should tell the captain.

No. No!

He hates

to be bothered.

But this is important!

Let's make a break for it!

Let's head for the surface and hope for the best!

Are you mad?

We'd be blown to Neptune's daughters!

We are doomed anyway!

Is it really so mad?

Two days. Forty-eight hours of oxygen.

Breathing.

Breathing, breathing.

Why always flapjacks?

I told you,

there are air pockets in the batter

of these flapjacks.

Our oxygen will last almost twice as long

with these babies.

No. Leave it. Leave it! Leave it!

He's wet!

Why... this is freshwater!

If he got in,

maybe we can get out.

How did you... Wh... How did you get here?

I can't remember.

I was in a forest.

I saw... a woman.

-Who is this man? -Why, that's our captain.

I know him.

Twelve hours.

In just 12 little hours...

Breathing, breathing,

breathing,

breathing, breathing,

breathing.

Wait! Maybe we shouldn't bother the captain after all.

We're the jelly boys.

Our place is here in the back, protecting the jelly.

What the stuff is I couldn't tell you,

but it's our job to take care of it.

Should he be here?

Should be in the forest.

Four men in the forest,

as the old bard wrote in one of his lesser-known plays,

trying to rescue a kidnapped woman.

They can't agree on anything.

Or so the story goes.

Now see here, boys.

I know we've been rivals for Margot in the past.

This is an emergency.

We must put aside all the dirty tricks

we've been happy to play to each other and work together.

Yes, but the Red Wolves...

The most feared forest bandits in all of Holstein-Schleswig.

Yes, I know, but we can't let that stop us. They have Margot.

And who knows what they're doing to her.

We are aspiring lumberjacks. Strong men.

Saplingjacks are four fine here standing.

We know a hundred more woodmen in these parts.

We all have our axes and our brawn.

We just have to get together and attack.

We can get her back and put an end to these Wolves once and for all!

I can make a list of all the lumberjacks we could ask.

We have no time for lists!

I can go to the various camps and see if anyone's interested,

see how many people we can get.

Make sure you tell them that it's Margot that's missing. She's so beautiful.

There's bound to be more volunteers

if they know they're going into the forest for Margot.

No. No questions. No surveys.

We go now. We crush the Red Wolves and we get Margot.

I can't go. I can't come. I-I-I'm...

I would... I want to, but I-I-I-I can't.

I'll come. I just have to finish the cord. It'll take two minutes.

Then I'll come with you, even if it's just the two of us.

I love Margot, and I resent you suggesting I don't.

They say the Red Wolves have fled to Mergel's Cave.

Fled?

Look! A model of Mergel's Cave!

We can use it to make a plan!

Which one of you is Wolf?

I am... Wolf.

You are Wolf, the leader of the Red Wolves?

Yes, I am their leader.

But who are you that risks his life to ask such an obvious question?

I am Cesare, and I'm not worried about risks.

I seek to join your men and serve you.

How do you expect to earn a robber's trust?

Obey you. Obey you.

Obey you.

Then obey me now.

Starting now,

every night you must perform a task exactly as I describe it.

Terrifying ordeals

that have winnowed the weaklings from our number

since the days of my father.

If you pass through this terrifying ordeal,

you will then earn the right...

But only then...

To rob by my side

and wear the pelt of the Red Wolves.

I'm ready for your worst.

-Yeah! -Yeah!

You have earned our trust and devotion.

Welcome, brother wolf.

Saplingjack, return tomorrow night

and move that rock

from there to here.

And return the night after that

and drink the boiling water from this cauldron.

And again the night after

to challenge this gazelle to a foot race.

Wouldn't that be a test more worthy of the Red Wolves?

Yes, saplingjack.

Tomorrow night,

and night after night till you've earned our trust.

And I'll tell you when you've earned it.

In the meantime,

daybreak comes.

Sleep among us if you will,

but not with us.

Come to sleep.

I don't understand you.

You beg me to come meet you here, you need to talk,

and then you make me wait for hours?

A man could easily kill you.

Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together

for...

Good evening. Thanks very much. My name is...

Got a little song for you. Goes something like this.

Master!

Master!

Thank you! You've been a great audience.

See you next time, everybody. Drive carefully. Good night.

You know I love you anyway.

See, now, that's a story.

As for what's going on here in this submarine,

I don't know what it is, but it makes me nervous.

Hey, you know the old joke...

What's the difference between a woman in a bathtub and a woman in church?

Give you a clue.

The woman in church has hope in her soul.

Be careful about passing gas when you're in the bathtub.

It doesn't just go away.

Look. He hasn't even eaten his flapjacks.

He is not here.

Everything's chained and locked.

We shouldn't be in here.

His mother's room. He sleeps there sometimes.

The fights they have!

It's an old struggle with scars on both sides.

Hot magma flows between them,

for the whole earth is not solid,

but everywhere gaping and hollowed

with empty rooms and spaces

and hidden burrows.

Let's get that parachute on you!

Sorry about that.

Who are you? Go!

Dream, volcano. This is for you.

Fish.

Fowl.

Psst. Psst.

Tire.

Hip necklace.

Sweet tapioca.

"Gardener boy sought."

Is good for me.

What you do hear?

Why can't I tell you something that you will actually remember?

Nothing is ever the past.

He has past.

Yes.

No!

No, I...

No!

Devil! Devil! Devil!

Devil! Devil! Devil!

Knock, knock, knock.

Devil!

Please accept my most humble apologies,

poor, beleaguered

Devil!

-And most lovely fellow traveler. -Devil! Devil!

I am Deane. Dr. Deane.

Train psychiatrist.

And I'm afraid that the man who is disturbing your peace

with those unearthly howls

Devil!

Is my responsibility.

He is my patient. Quite mad.

And I am taking him on to Bogot�.

I assure you...

he is harmless.

Though I'm sure it doesn't seem so to a young lady like you.

I just wanted to...

I've come to offer you sanctuary.

My compartment in the next car

is as quiet as a...

Devil! Devil!

-Humidor. -Devil!

And,

I would feel so much better if we traded.

I could be closer to my patient.

You could have the peace you deserve.

On the return trip to Berlin,

the train will be as your garden.

No madman, I promise.

Devil! Devil! Devil!

I've lost my childhood?

You were...

robbed of it.

After careful listening,

thoughtful...

and meticulous reconstruction

and everything only I can

bring to bear in our professional,

and so much more than professional

friendship,

I must now insist that you close your eyes...

and await

what next I will

reveal to you

as...

most...

pleasantly euphoric

surprise...

of your young,

young...

life.

I present you...

your inner...

child.

It's okay.

Stop. Stop.

There, there.

I'm afraid I must tell you, prisoners, boys,

that you all suffer from an extremely rare form of amnesia,

an illness that leaves your memory unaffected

but which nevertheless affects the memories of your friends and families.

You may find yourselves totally forgotten when you return home.

It is called pan-fallopian neglect amnesia.

There is little hope for a cure.

What should I do?

Doctor. Doctor.

Other side of the mill.

Hello!

Aha. So we have caught you.

You thought you would get away, but you did not!

You will face the justice of the volcano.

Beautiful volcano.

To liberate, volcano, dream the molten dream

of justice.

Dream, volcano.

Dream!

Volcanoes are nothing but the vent holes

for breath pipes of nature to give vent

to the superfluous choking fumes

and smoking vapors

which fly upwards.

Hey. Did you ever hear the one about the man who checked into a hotel room

and got into the tub and farted?

The bellhop heard him, and brought him a bottle of beer on a tray.

The man said, "Hey, I didn't order that."

The bellhop said, "You did too.

I distinctly heard you say, 'Bellboy, bring me a bottle of Bud.'"

Is she alive?

I-I can't tell.

Check her pulse.

Master!

Hello!

He's not here.

One hour left.

No more talking, just...

breathing.

Breathing... breathing...

breathing... breathing...

breathing... breathing... brea...

Wait! I haven't finished telling you.

The forest. The snow.

The convict. The birthday.

Why do you stand with your eyes skyward?

I've shot an arrow,

and I'm waiting for it to reappear.

Forget your arrow. I am without a companion. Come with me.

I will come.

Why do you tie these great rocks to your ankles?

I wish to chase buffalo,

yet every time I do, I go beyond them,

and so I'm tying these stones to my feet

so that I may not run so fast.

My friend, you can run some other time.

Come with us.

What for do you listen so earnestly?

Forest is full of stone,

and I'm listening to its breathing.

It whispers too.

The ice has stories to tell.

A long time ago...

You know I love you anyway.

Let's go to your place.

Hello!

Le cygne.

The guitar turtle.

The Chihuahua.

Happy birthday, darling.

You remembered.

Yes.

Look.

I know you always admired my taste, so this is for you.

I looked everywhere... the city, the country, high and low...

And built a special collection that is the identical of mine.

The Chihuahua. The guitar turtle.

The boar heads. Le cygne. The embalmed flowers.

It was quite a task to find exact duplicates.

But where is your boar's head?

What?

And your Chihuahua.

Thad, I don't get it.

It's all gone!

-It's been stolen! -What?

Those miserable thieves!

-It's all right. -Miserable thieves!

What's going on here? Are you all right?

Miserable thieves!

Come on! Come on.

Sorry. Did you steal my boar's head?

I didn't steal anything, sir.

Yes, but my wife will think that you did.

Sir, I did not.

Sir!

I lean in close,

and she runs the peaks of her fingers

along the dry strings of my mustache.

And all I say

is yes, no,

maybe.

Are you hungry?

Yes.

No.

Enjoy your breakfast.

Yes.

Would you like to listen to your program?

Would you? Is it time for your favorite program?

Yes.

I heard it on the radio itself,

the wars that tore the planishings.

You're lying.

I do not lie.

You would shoot at your own shadow,

or voices in the woods.

We shoot whether we like it or not.

We have a lot to shoot with.

We draw blood from you and cut out all the scars of your past.

Go ahead. Condemn.

You cannibals.

We will cut them loose.

Look. You cry.

That's right.

Why are you crying?

You dare to cry.

I can see your tears.

Curse you.

Quietly. Quietly.

Into a trance you're born, right before your own eyes.

I don't want to talk to you. Let me alone.

I want to think before I die.

The world is ours.

Not ours.

No.

Maybe.

No.

Yes.

No.

No.

Yes.

I was the junior charg� d'affaires,

not yet the master of myself,

in consular service at the town of B...,

a young man of light consigned to a dark, dark outpost,

when one day I found myself upon the threshold of an antique shop.

I have a present for you.

How thrilling.

It's heavy.

Let me open it.

Why does it have two faces?

It is the god Janus.

I've never heard of him.

He is the god of thresholds.

But of course, not only thresholds, no.

Thresholds, yes, but many other things besides.

He is the god of beginnings,

of transitions, of gates and doors.

He looks into the past and into the future.

He is the god of two-sided coins.

The month of January is named in his honor.

He presides over the sun, the moon, over bridges

and time and movement.

When drawn bridges unfurl for an arriving procession of noble explorers,

when gates un-gate at the beck of a charitable king's whim,

when... when time moves on, all of time ticking,

it is Janus, Janus, Janus, the motive force.

Always facing frontward and back, north and south,

defiantly facing Notos and Boreas.

Yes!

With a quick pivot east and west too,

the sun's fanfare and refuge.

He is... that kind of god.

When omens caution,

when auspices beckon,

it is Janus we praise.

Certain traditions have

Simon Peter guarding heaven's gate.

But no.

Such heavenly keeping

is the work of Janus.

It's ugly and frightening.

Take it away, please.

I brooded over Jane's rejection of my gift

and plunged myself into a brown study over Janus,

that great god.

God's the terminus of the ways of the road.

Master of time.

Convulsed into a monster by the Janus bust,

I was now Lug-Lug, hideous impulse incarnate.

I called at Jane's, the scene of my cruel crime,

hoping she had somehow recovered from,

or even forgotten, the previous night's attack.

Sewing.

Stitching.

Darning. Mending.

Sweeping.

Scrubbing. Washing.

I'll give you 200 for it.

All right, do I have 200? I have two... 200? I have 200.

225. I have... Do I have 250 for this excellent two-faced Roman...

250. I have 250. 325 right here.

325. I have 325.

375, ladies and gentlemen. 375 for this sculpture.

You're not gonna see a second one like this for years to come.

From the bowels of hell! Now what?

No, no, no. 375.

To further complicate matters, my own double...

Of all people... Arrived at the night auction

to bid against me for the Janus bust.

500. Do I have 500? No... 500! 500!

Do I hear 525? Five... 525.

550? I have 550.

575. I have 575. 600! I have 600.

625? I have 625. 650?

I'm looking for 650. 625.

Going once. Going twice. Three times.

And the god is sold.

I won back the unhallowed trophy from my double.

Soundly thrashed in the bidding,

the repulsive duplicate wandered off to God knows where.

Irked at his very existence, I compelled myself to stalk him

as Lug-Lug!

Wait. Before you do what you must do...

For I'm sure you have your reasons...

Allow me one word in my own defense.

Not because I deserve any, for I am sure whatever it is you think I have done,

I have done it 10 times worse than you even know.

But please, allow me one short story

by way of illustrating your own convictions.

Preparing to spend the night at H...,

on my way through southern T...,

I engaged a horse groomsman to currycomb the fatigue from my Dutch Gelderlander,

which I had that day ridden hard.

At the threshold of the stables,

the ostler accosted me with a tale.

Just four birthdays ago...

-I'm sorry, sir. -I haven't the time this evening.

-My mother... -Step aside, I beg you.

One night I was sent for her medicine.

Ostler!

At the pharmacist's, I met her.

Felicia.

I felt she needed my help.

She asked for laudanum.

The druggist tossed her out on the street.

I gave her half Mother's laudanum,

Mother, I have it.

I have it.

Be quiet.

It's your birthday, little ostler.

Have you anything you want to tell me?

No, Mother. No.

You should take some more.

And then I have her three-quarters of Mother's laudanum

and filled the rest with water.

Breathing... breathing...

breathing... breathing...

breathing... breathing...

And then I have her all of Mother's laudanum

and gave my mother water.

Thank you for listening.

Please,

get on with it.

Self-mastery at last!

One moment, please.

Come in.

The Minister of the Interior.

Well, no. Yes. This is not my fault.

There's an explanation, clearly.

Don't you see? I...

He... She tried to murder me!

She tried to strangle me with her blouse.

And this butler... It was his idea.

He organized everything.

Please!

No!

No! Aaah!

Surprise!

Aswang.

You have never been baptized.

I can help you.

Such is the tale of the snow.

You may listen again when the occasion arises.

Come and join us.

What's the meaning of this?

I found you.

The captain's daughter.

My only memory.

Dreams.

Visions.

Madness!

Breathing...

breathing... breathing...

breathing... breathing...

Once you're done,

you wanna dry yourself on a big, fluffy Turkish towel.

The Turks were heavily into baths too,

hence the expression, "Hoo! It's like a Turkish bath in here."

Now, you probably want to curl up with a nice book,

or maybe get together with a special someone

who, hopefully, will have bathed too in the fairly recent past.

Whatever. Enjoy.

That's what bathing is all about,

in spite of what you may have heard to the contrary.

Have a nice day.