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(somber orchestral music)

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(thunder rumbling)

(somber orchestral music)

(breathy muttering)

(low rumbling)

- You really thought you could stop me? (laughing)

(banging)

(pained shouting)

You think that it would be that easy?

(laughing)

(pained groaning)

(morose orchestral music)

(watch chiming)

(dramatic orchestral music)

(clattering)

(traffic rumbling)

- Oh, Marcus Cavendish, it's the end of the world.

- Which one's yours?

- Just give me a second, okay?

- Okay.

- Go get a drink down the road, okay?

- [Woman In Fur] Really?

- Yeah, I'll come find you in a bit, I got a...

Where the fuck are my paintings?

- In the trash.

- It's in the trash?!

Are you fucking serious, man?

- Relax, man.

I'm just joking; come here.

They're here.

Take a look.

- And the rest?

- Downstairs.

- Why?

- Why?

Because you are not selling.

- You fucking kidding me?

I always sell!

- People don't like you anymore.

- [Marcus] They don't like the work?

- No, they don't like you!

Marcus, look at yourself.

Look in the mirror.

What are you doing all of your life?

Your PR?

Come on, forget about it.

Now, listen, there are a lot of artists in town.

- That's bullshit, man.

- Your life has gone to bullshit.

- Do me a favor man, come on.

- I did a lot of favor.

Tony, a favor, please!

A favor!

Now, I'm doing the last favor.

Take all this shit, and get out.

- You know, Antonio,

fuck you, man!

- You're welcome.

(traffic rumbling)

(ragged breathing)

(repetitive instrumental music)

(water splashing)

(groovy rock music)

- This is shit!

(muttering)

(smashing)

(rhythmic throbbing)

- My seed is cursed.

Cursed be all the Cavendishes.

We will all be damned to hell.

(terrified screaming)

(watch chiming)

(knocking)

- This came for you.

Everything okay?

- Yeah.

Just, just having a bad day.

- Bye.

- Yeah.

- [Woman's Voice] Dear Sir Marcus Cavendish,

after a long research, it is my duty to inform you

that you are the son of Simon and Costanza Cavendish,

and nephew of Peter Cavendish, twin brother of your father,

you are heir to the heritage of the Cavendish family.

I know that you are unaware of your belonging

to the Cavendish family, so I attached to this letter

the evidence of your descendance.

You are kindly invited to appear next Friday,

at the Cavendish Castle in Tuscany, Val di Chiana,

to complete the paperwork and enter lawful

possession of your inheritance.

Thank you for your attention,

and I remain at your disposal for any further information.

Trusting that such a sort of delay

will not be an impediment to your presence this Friday,

with all best regards,

Chiara Conti, an author in Florence.

(plane engines rumbling)

(somber piano music)

- Hello?

Anybody home?

Hi.

- Good morning, Baron.

Allow me to come down.

Welcome, Baron, it is an honor to have you here.

I'm Oreste, your humble servant.

- Do you know me?

- Of course, sir.

- Then you know I'm no baron.

- The Baron must be joking, right?

You are master Marcus, son of the poor Lord Simon.

- You knew my father?

- Yes, my lord, and also your mother.

- [Marcus] What happened to them?

- It is better if you talk of these matters

with the solicitor; she will arrive later.

As will your other guests.

- Guests?

- [Oreste] Those who are named in the will.

- Okay.

Look, Oreste, don't call me "Baron" okay?

Just "Marcus" is fine.

- Okay, my lord.

As you wish.

(pensive instrumental music)

It's beautiful, no?

- Who is that?

- That is John Cavendish, one of your ancestors.

It was he who built this castle, in the 18th century.

- Huh.

(dramatic instrumental music)

- Allow me to show you to your room.

(dramatic instrumental music)

- Shame it's not the original.

- But it is original.

Your uncle painted it.

The baron was a great artist.

During the last 10 years of his life,

painting was his sole occupation.

And now, my lord, I'll leave you to make yourself at home.

- Thank you, Oreste.

(somber string music)

The baron was a great artist!

(chuckling)

(gleeful shouting)

(laughing)

Hey, Oreste?

Oh.

- May I present to you, the Baron Cavendish.

Your first guests, my lord, the Ferrettis.

- Hi, nice to meet you.

- I'm Elena, nice to meet you, too.

- [Marcus] I'm Marcus, hi.

- Lord Baron, what an honor.

Paolo Ferretti, a humble journalist.

- Okay, I'm Marcus; I'm a painter.

- I know.

I write for The Watcher in Edinburgh.

- Oh, you're that Paolo Ferretti.

- I'm the chief editor of the arts and culture section.

- That's strange, isn't it?

- [Paolo] How's that?

- Well, first I found out I'm part of a family

I knew nothing about, and then I come here

to inherit their castle, and who do I find?

The only journalist who's panned my work.

- You know, I'm the only journalist ever,

I believe, to have actually wasted time

to say anything about your work.

- Paolo, don't be rude.

- So, what brings you here Paolo?

Do you stand to inherit something here, as well.

- No, not him.

Me.

The solicitor summoned me because my name is also

in Peter Cavendish's will.

I don't know why, but I'm sure I'll find out soon enough.

- Okay, did you ever meet him?

- No, I never met him.

But I'm a researcher at the university in Edinburgh,

and after Peter Cavendish's death, we discovered

that he had been anonymously funding my projects for years.

- What subject do you do?

- Quantum physics and astronomy.

- Mr. and Mrs. Ferretti, you will find your room down there.

- Okay, let's go.

- Oreste, how come there's a picture

of my graduation in my room?

- Ah, yes, my lord, that was one of your uncle's favorites.

He was so proud of you.

He followed you through every step of your life.

I know you never met him,

but I suppose he thought of you as a son.

(horn honking)

I believe your other guests have arrived.

Can I be excused?

- Of course, Oreste, you go ahead, go ahead.

- Madam and monsieur.

Bonsoir, good evening.

- Bonsoir.

- You must be madam Sonja Valenti,

and monsieur Thomas Villeneuve.

- And you must be Oreste.

- That's right, at your service.

- We had a long, long journey.

We're so happy to be here.

- Allow me to assist you with your bags.

- Oh, thank you.

- Please do follow me.

(thunder rumbling)

- [Thomas] Here you are.

- [Marcus] Thank you, Thomas.

- And, salute.

- Oh, salute.

- [Women's Voices] Salute!

- So, Marcus, you really didn't know

that you owned all of this?

- Yeah, really.

It's weird, you know?

I still feel like I'm a guest here.

- And what were you doing with your life

before you became a baron?

- Well, I'm a painter.

- Well, wow.

It sounds like you're definitely in the right line then.

Look at this place.

Wow.

- Yeah, I know, right?

And you?

- Oh, me, oh I do a few illusions.

- Oh, a few illusions.

He's so sweet; he's selling himself so shortly.

He's the best illusionist of the world.

He's playing in Paris right now.

- [Marcus] That's great.

- Yes.

And I just think of something.

But this place would be amazing for your show, no?

- Yeah, I'll think about it, hun.

She's crazy.

- No, I'm not crazy, but I'm totally crazy about this place.

I wish it was mine.

You're so lucky, Marcus.

- Maybe madam Conti will make you a surprise.

- [Sonja] What?

- Your names are in the testament.

- But none of us knew Peter Cavendish.

Not even his nephew.

- But it's Peter Cavendish who called us here,

after his death.

- Sonja's a biologist.

Maybe he wanted to do a final donation

to both our institutions.

- Oh, yes, that's amazing.

A good idea.

- He would have wanted to continue the family tradition.

- What tradition?

- How come you know so little about your family?

- Because he didn't know they were his family.

He already told you.

- I haven't known about the Cavendish family

until last week, but when a solicitor calls up my wife,

pretending--

- He did his homework.

- Why are you always treating me like this?

- Because you're showing off.

- No, no, wait.

What do you know about his family?

- Well, looks like not all the people

are interested in my story here.

- Come on, Paolo, tell us what you know.

We're all interested.

- Please.

- Well, according to my research,

John Cavendish was an adventurer, from Scotland.

Who fell upon hard times.

He reached the land of Horns Harbor in the mid-18th century.

And he worked on the docks for a while.

He spent every night in a tavern.

A hotel, rented by gamblers, cutthroats, and assassins.

(dramatic instrumental music)

(coins jingling)

Where you could, sometimes, find a noble

that was looking for strong emotions.

A poor, dumb clod.

- No.

- [Paolo] He owned just only one estate in Val di Chiana.

He bet it.

And he ended up losing the game.

(somber piano music)

John reached his new estate,

a crumbling manor, enclosed in a swamp.

John showed his expert knowledge of botany

and agriculture, reclaiming the marsh

and reconverting his land into fertile ground.

He made his own fortune and his scientific contribution

opened to him the doors of the Giorgopholes Academy.

The Grand Duke of Tuscany

conferred to him the title of baron.

John demolished the crumbling manor,

and he built this castle.

He was obsessed by his studies about botanic,

and he imported from Oregon a lot of sequoias,

making the park of the castle

an incomparable attraction in Europe.

(birds calling)

(rhythmic string music)

By that time protagonist of the Florentine Society,

during a ball, he met Annabelle Stuart.

A noble girl, so much younger than him

that she could have been his daughter.

And he married her.

(waltz music)

Then he left the public life, and he obsessively

dedicated himself to his botanical experiments.

- Your lips are petals to kiss.

Your eyes are mirrors,

into eternity.

(dramatic instrumental music)

- And that's when the rumors started.

- [Marcus] What rumors?

- Just the usual small-town gossip.

Affairs and betrayals.

- From what I understand,

he had a particular taste for young women.

- And what man doesn't?

(chuckling)

- Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you the Cavendish

family solicitor, Chiara Conti.

(thunder rumbling)

- Hello, Cavendish.

Your father, Simon, was the twin brother of Peter Cavendish.

Your father died before you were born.

Peter and Simon were joint heirs to the family inheritance.

So when you were born, you became sole proprietor

of half of the wealth.

Your uncle was, however, the executor of the entire estate

and was your patron.

He remained anonymous, to the express wish of your father.

- No, I'm sorry, madam.

You're wrong.

I grew up in an orphanage, and my studies were paid for

by winning grants; I did it all myself.

I'm sorry, Lord Cavendish, but the orphanage

that you refer to was an exclusive nursery,

and the school for children of wealthy parents.

And the study grants were all covered by Peter Cavendish.

In any case, the result is that you are now

the proprietor of the 50 percent of the Cavendish estate.

The other half is split between the two daughters

of Peter Cavendish, Elena Ferretti, and Mrs. Sonja Valenti.

- Daughters?

- Yes.

You were named in Peter Cavendish's will as his heirs,

which I have investigated and discovered that you were both

his offspring, born out of wedlock to different mothers.

Here's the evidence.

(electricity crackling)

- Madam Conti, do you not think it would have been better

to reveal this sensitive information

to the relevant parties in private?

- I'm only following the demands

of the final will and testament.

I realize that some of this news is shocking.

But it was important that everyone concerned

should be present, so that the will would not be challenged.

Challenged by whom?

By Marcus Cavendish.

- Why would I want to challenge it?

- So you could have it all to yourself.

- Look, I'm glad to be able to share this place

with my two, new, wonderful cousins.

- [Paolo] We shall see about that.

- Paolo, shut up, please.

- Look, you might think you know me, but you don't, okay?

I'm just glad I finally found my family.

(dramatic instrumental music)

(thunder rumbling)

- Wow.

What a strange room.

- Peter Cavendish called this room The Portrait Room.

As you can see, the walls are adorned with many

great portraits of the descendants of John Cavendish.

- Why are they made in vegetables?

- They're all imitations of work by the artist Arcimboldo.

- Precisely.

Peter had an interesting sense of humor.

He said that, given that the Cavendish family

had set down their roots in Tuscany,

and that they had become a part of the earth here,

and that they would never leave, indeed, Peter himself

hardly ever set foot outside the castle.

(thunder rumbling)

- Are there any portraits of my uncle Peter?

- Peter was working on a self-portrait,

in the days leading up to his death.

The work is unfinished, and it is currently here,

and is sat in the tower.

- There is something I don't understand, Ms. Conti.

You haven't told us about the circumstances

surrounding Peter Cavendish's death.

We're walking around this castle

as if his suicide is of no consequence.

- He killed himself?

- Technically, yes.

Peter did take his own life, but he was gravely ill.

He had a tumor in his brain and was in constant pain.

Went through periods of having little ability of movement.

He had to take his own life.

As in this country it is against the law

to have a dignified death, Peter simply

didn't want to suffer any further.

He had so much suffering in his life, already,

having lost his wife and daughter.

And he always carried himself with dignity.

But his illness was taking this away from him.

- But why is this one in a different style?

- Because Harry Cavendish was not

a descendant of John Cavendish.

Genealogists doubt he was even a part

of the same family at all.

But Peter believed very much that he was.

Or maybe wanted to believe it, as he was such

an important figure in scientific history.

- Is that the same Harry Cavendish

that we named a lunar crater after?

- Yes.

- Oh, amazing.

I could be a descendant of Harry Cavendish!

(electricity buzzing)

- Oh, don't worry.

It happens sometimes.

I'll bring you downstairs to the generator,

and I'll show you how to restart it.

Ms. Ferretti, this may be of interest to you,

because the generator is the hydrogen machine

that Harry Cavendish invented.

(tense instrumental music)

From here, you access the crypt

where all the Cavendish family are buried.

(bubbling)

As you can see, this machine never switches off.

It was only a drop in pressure.

(machinery whirring)

This is the machine that Harry Cavendish invented.

Peter bought it 30 years ago and made his own

modification to the prototype.

It now operates as a generator that heats

and gives energy to the entire castle.

- That's impossible.

- Well, it's true that hydrogen might be

the best source of alternative energy,

but I've never heard of it being used this way.

- [Chiara] This, professor, is your subject, not mine.

All that I can tell you is that Peter explained to me

that this machine is a kind of boiler

that functions similar to a combustion engine.

But it produces electrical energy, rather than kinetic.

Then from the combustion of hydrogen you can get water vapor

that is currently used to maintain the winter garden.

- It's extraordinary.

This man is a genius.

- This is the laboratory of John Cavendish.

Apart from the generator, Peter always wanted

to conserve it as a kind of shrine.

- Excuse me?

Is this design by John Cavendish?

- Yes.

- It's impossible.

- [Chiara] Ms. Valenti, I can assure you--

- The paper and the ink seems to be antique,

but those formulas, it's like plant DNA he was working on.

And he could alter it.

The scientists didn't discover that yet.

- That's crazy.

- Exactly.

- You sure that's what that means?

- I have to study it more in detail,

but it seems to be that.

- Wait a minute, wait a minute.

What the hell is going on here?

I find it hard to believe that a family has been

hiding what appears to be the keys

to the fucking universe in this castle.

- What is this place?

- It looks like a torture chamber.

- That's pretty fucked up.

(tense instrumental music)

- This is the room where Peter hung his own paintings.

- [Elena] He's such a great painter.

- But they're all reproductions and copies.

Nothing about them is original.

- It's true.

They're all reproductions of great works of art.

- It's not art, it's emulation.

As if I were to spend time rewriting

Beethoven's Fifth Symphony.

- Yes, and we don't like simulation, eh honey?

- They say if you don't have anything original to say,

it's better to do something else.

- That's exactly what I said about your exhibition.

- [Sonja] Frankly, I agree; they all look the same.

- You're not being fair.

In recent years, Peter studied these masters

in order to improve his own technique.

- [Paolo] (scoffing) You keep defending him.

- He was a man worthy of admiration.

- Ladies and gentlemen, dinner is served.

(thunder rumbling)

- Thank you, Louisa.

- Louisa is mute.

(ringing)

- To my Sonja, and Elena and Marcus,

and to this special day, and to your fortune,

and of course, to your inheritance.

Long health and love.

Salute.

- [Together] Salute.

(thunder rumbling)

- Thomas, what was it you were saying earlier?

Art is representation.

Art is illusion.

It's very seductive.

What was it again, exactly?

- Art is the experience of memory, transformed from

our dreams, and unveiled by the illusion of our senses.

- [Marcus] That's fantastic.

- I am convinced that an artist doesn't create

anything original, as such.

He merely reworks the elements of his own experience,

and a reality that he chooses, and shares these things

with a perception of the evidence.

Just as walls and the illusionist.

He's speaking to you, he's distracting you.

In order to perform the trick,

which then appears as magic.

(clapping and laughing)

- [Marcus] That's amazing, man.

- No, I'm serious; that was good.

Your words seem like a rehearsed pattern.

A recycled wisdom.

Not unlike Peter Cavendish's paintings.

They're for effect,

but maybe underneath there's no truth there.

- You really can't help being unpleasant, can you?

Why don't you brush the chip off your shoulder

and come down here to the level of us humans?

(laughing)

- I was wondering how long it was gonna take

for you to start reprimanding me.

- So, I'm the only one who likes Peter's painting?

Thank you.

I love them.

I think they are powerful, beautiful,

and especially the one with the old man and the daughter.

I think it's erotic and carnal.

- But they're just reproduction.

- Yeah, Paolo, no one's arguing with you

about the fact that they're copies.

But you can't deny that they're brilliant reproductions.

You know, in days gone by, artists would try

and insert symbols into their work to try and communicate

something with the viewer, despite the fact that,

if their people that commissioned the work,

the despots, if they knew what they put in there,

they'd have their hands cut off.

I noticed in all the paintings by Peter Cavendish,

there's something that links them together.

And the fact is that all his paintings are reproductions

of works that people who study the theories surrounding UFOs

say give evidence of the existence of extraterrestrials.

- Oh, come on!

(thunder rumbling)

- And what would these theories be, exactly?

Give us some concrete examples.

- Okay, well, first of all, he's reproduced

The Lost Sheep, by Caravaggio, okay?

Now, (sighing) some theories say that the biblical parable

of the lost sheep, it describes the human race,

lost in the cosmos, with no way of getting back

to their original ethnic roots.

Second of all, you've got that one by Paolo Uccello,

where there's a cardinal's hat.

And that's supposed to represent a flying disk.

Thirdly, you've got the one with the rays

of light coming down, and the rays are supposed to be

rays from a UFO, on the Madonna and Child.

Now, obviously, what it represents is the Holy Spirit,

which is entirely in line with

the religious iconography of the time.

What I'm saying is that these people,

they see whatever they want to see.

What I'm trying to say, Paolo,

is that Peter Cavendish was obsessed with UFOs.

(thunder rumbling)

(laughing)

No, it's in there.

- [Paolo] You said you all believe in extraterrestrials?

(laughing)

- [Marcus] No!

- Please, don't confuse things.

In my work, I'm absolutely convinced that life must exist

beyond our planet, but it's one thing to believe

that life exists in other places in the universe,

and quite another to believe in space ships

and reptiles that secretly govern us.

- However it is possible that there could be flying saucers.

For example, what do you think about the idea

that we are of this Earth?

- What does that mean?

- Who thinks that we were created on this Earth?

- [Paolo] Darwin.

- Think about it.

Amongst all of the created and monsters

that have been invented from the human imagination,

there is just one only kind

that has actually existed, for real.

The dinosaurs.

And they are formed from a type of life

which is virtually incompatible with humans.

So what if we killed the dinosaurs

in order to colonize the planet?

Maybe because our star, our planet, was dying?

And we had to find somewhere new.

- No, no, no, no, no, no, hold on, hold on a second.

You're saying that we are the aliens?

(laughing)

- Why not?

You in fact, are telling me that we are descended from apes.

And even if that were true, don't you think that maybe

these apes were brought here from another planet?

Not unlike Noah's ark?

- Ah, come on!

You must be joking, right?

- No, quite the opposite.

No one has proved that there was human evolution.

- It's true; there is no proof of evolution.

The head size of homo sapiens didn't change.

There is only genetic differences.

But can we call that an evolution?

- Look, before we lived in caves and ate raw meat.

Today, we fly in planes, we use computers.

I should say there has been a kind of evolution.

- And if there is a cataclysmic event?

Or if we lose our ability to generate power, what happens?

We return in the caves,

and we became hunter gatherers again?

We didn't evolve, we are just more domesticated.

- Look, I don't know anything about biology or anthropology.

I'm just telling you what I feel

about Peter Cavendish's paintings.

I think it's pretty cool.

(laughing)

Salute!

- [Together] Salute!

(thunder rumbling)

(muttering)

I beg your pardon, my lord.

Ms. Chiara, Louisa has prepared your room for the night.

- Thank you, Oreste.

You and Louisa are always so kind to me.

- It's a pleasure, Ms. Chiara.

My lord, if you have no further use for me,

I shall retire for the evening.

- Yes, thank you, Oreste.

- My lord?

You are the true, rightful heir.

A pure Cavendish.

- Okay.

Thank you, Oreste.

(thunder rumbling)

- Yeah, thank you very much, my lord, for your hospitality.

(coughing)

But what I want you to know, my lord,

is that here, there are two other baronesses,

that should be equal in line with your lordship.

- Yeah look, Paolo, I don't have a problem with any of this.

Maybe if you do, you should have a conversation with Oreste.

(thunder rumbling)

Fuck, I'm married to a Cavendish.

- Look, Paolo, if you've got something stuck in your throat,

it's better to just spit it out.

- You, madam Conti, you keep defending Peter Cavendish,

saying that he had a tumor in his head.

What about his wife, Viktoria?

- Please, Mr. Ferretti.

- What are you talking about?

- Viktoria would have been your stepmother,

if she hadn't died 10 or so years ago.

(thunder rumbling)

You lot don't know the first fucking

thing about your family, do you?

Viktoria also had a brain tumor.

The newspapers of the time maintain that,

first of all, she shot her daughter,

who would have been your stepsister.

And then she killed herself.

If I were you, I wouldn't worry about

having an eventual mastectomy,

but I'd just have my head removed.

As a precaution.

Just as a preventative measure. (laughing)

- Hey, easy Paolo.

Why don't you just sit down?

You've probably had a bit too much to drink, huh?

- Oh yes.

In vino veritas.

In your position, my lord,

I wouldn't be so calm and collected.

Your father had a brain tumor as well, didn't he?

(laughing)

- Please, Simon, have pity.

He's your child, please!

(watch chiming)

- My seed is cursed.

Cursed be all the Cavendishes.

We will all be damned to hell.

(terrified screaming)

(gun firing)

- If it wasn't for the paramedics, you'd be dead as well.

- You want a fight, huh?

Is that what you want?!

- [Thomas] Marcus!

- [Paolo] Afraid of the truth, Baron?

- Hey, let him be!

Don't you see, he's just drunk!

Come on.

Come on.

Stop it.

(thunder rumbling)

- I apologize for my husband.

His behavior has been inexcusable all day.

Good night; see you in the morning.

- Oh, hang on, we'll come up with you.

- Okay, let's go.

- Okay, now we'll go.

It's been a long day, full of emotion.

We'll go and celebrate my beautiful baroness's inheritance.

(laughing)

(thunder rumbling)

Hey, you. (laughing)

Is that alright, you okay?

Would you like to get better?

- Yes.

- Because I've got an idea.

And look what I found.

Wow!

(unintelligible muttering)

I like this a lot.

(dramatic musical theme)

- It's strange.

You never met, but you have so much in common

that reminds me of Peter.

Even in the way you move.

- Well, you know, all of this,

castles, land, property, it doesn't mean anything.

What really gets passed on, it's in the blood.

- Even this observation is the typical

sort of things that he would say.

- You really cared about him, didn't you?

- My family have looked after

the Cavendish family for generations.

The first time that I met Peter, I was an only child.

He and my father were friends, and when my father died,

he looked after me like a daughter.

Don't blame him for not revealing his identity to you.

This was an arrangement that he had with your father.

And I believe that it was a way of protecting you.

As if he thought that your family was cursed in some way.

- Well, if what Paolo says is true,

that could be the case.

- It's a shame that you never got to meet him.

You two would have certainly got on well together.

(dramatic piano music)

(thunder rumbling)

(thunder rumbling)

(door creaking)

(ominous instrumental music)

(eerie instrumental music)

(heavy breathing)

(maniacal laughter)

(mocking laughter)

- [Ghostly Voice] Isn't that, for a living being, a face?

But you, you'll forget it.

- You!

You!

(frightened shouting)

- [Ghostly Voice] When you have an orgasm, you get yourself

disappointed by thinking you are immortal.

Your mouth has talked too much.

Your eyes have seen too much.

(panicked grunting)

(clock ticking)

(ominous rumbling)

(ragged breathing)

(pained groaning)

(sticky ripping)

- Welcome home.

(rain drumming)

(ominous instrumental theme)

- Good morning.

- Oh, hey.

- How are you on your first day of being Baron Cavendish?

- I'm better now.

Thanks.

Hm, that's really strong.

(laughing)

- It's Italian coffee.

Did you sleep well?

- Ah, I had some weird dreams, actually.

- Oh, I'm sorry.

- It's okay, I'm used to it.

Hey, look,

can I ask you a question?

- Yes, of course.

- Can you take me to where my uncle Peter was, at the end?

- Sure, it's your place.

Do you want to go now?

- Hm, no.

Not now.

Wow.

What's this?

- 30 years ago, it was your mother's room.

- It's beautiful.

- Have you seen my husband?

- No.

Something happen?

- We had an argument about his behavior last night.

And when I woke up this morning he was gone.

(somber orchestral music)

- What's that?

- It's better that you don't know.

- After last night, you're now keeping secrets from me?

- Come on, it was only one night.

It's a vitamin supplement.

- They are not drugs, are they?

- No.

- Your uncle died right here.

- Why is there blood everywhere?

- Oh, your uncle's illness, the tumor.

It manifests itself in strange ways.

- I've never heard of that before.

- He used to cut himself.

It depends on the areas of the brain that are affected.

They are Viktoria and D'Allessia,

the wife and daughter of Peter.

- This, ah,

this is an interesting one to choose for the end.

It's better than the others.

It's Gustave Courbet as a young man.

- It's a shame he didn't finish it.

(dramatic instrumental music)

- What's through there?

- After Viktoria's death, Peter often used to sleep here.

He said that the artist must always be near to his work.

What is it?

- It's nothing, don't worry.

- [Sonja] It's such a nice day,

we're going to do a walk in the estate.

- [Thomas] Will you join us?

- No thank you, I'm going to find

that stupid husband of mine.

- Well, okay.

We will go to Oreste's place and ask him

if he has seen Paolo.

- Okay, thank you.

Enjoy your walk.

- Hey, Elena!

- Hi.

- Good morning.

- Have you seen my husband this morning?

- No, why?

- We argued and he disappeared.

If you see him, can you tell him I'm looking for him,

and I'm a bit worried?

- There's no need to worry, Mrs. Ferretti.

This is a large estate.

He's probably down for a walk in the park.

- Maybe, but if he did, he has gone in his pajamas.

- Well, maybe he's gonna take a walk around

the castle and get a look at some

of my uncle's paintings and write a bad review.

I'm joking; I'm sorry.

Look, which way are you gonna go?

- That way.

- Okay, and where are Thomas and Sonja?

- They're in the park.

They told me they would ask Oreste on the way through.

- Okay, well, why don't we go west, have a look out there?

- Okay.

- Yeah, okay.

- Okay.

- Catch you later.

- Marcus?

- Yeah?

- Thank you.

- You're welcome.

(dramatic instrumental music)

- I doubt that he's here.

- Yeah, he doesn't seem like the kind of guy

who's gonna get up early to come here and pray.

(laughing)

- I don't think he'd be down in the crypt.

Marcus, are you okay?

- What?

Yeah, ah, look,

seeing as we're here, why don't we just go and check anyway?

- I think it will be locked down there.

I need the keys from Oreste.

I'll call Thomas, maybe he's with him.

Okay, thank you.

- What did they say?

- Sonja's bringing the keys.

But they also said there are lots of secret passages here,

and if Paolo found one of them, it's really difficult

to get out, and also to find him.

As the only person who knew them well enough was Peter.

- Oh dear.

Well, he might be down there a long time,

but he's not gonna die there.

Well, in the meantime,

we can enjoy the fact that he's not here.

(watch chiming)

Sorry.

- Why have you got Peter's watch?

No one could find it after he died.

- This isn't Peter's, this is my watch.

I've had it since I was born.

It was given to me by my father.

- Marcus, what's the matter?

- Oh my god.

You two?

You were lovers?

- What are you saying?

- You and my uncle were lovers.

- [Chiara] What?

- Yeah, I can't believe I didn't realize before.

I can see it so clearly now.

- What?

- That's why you spoke about him with such passion,

isn't it?

- [Chiara] No.

- Yes.

Yes, you were with him the night that he died.

- No, no.

- Yes you were.

It couldn't have been any other way.

You were with him.

(dramatic instrumental music)

(ragged breathing)

- How do you know this?

- Because I have visions.

I've had them since I was a child,

and since I got here, I have them even more.

- You are on drugs.

- No.

- You're on fucking drugs, just like your uncle!

- And then what happened, huh?

And then what happened?

Yeah, then you tried to change the last will, didn't you?

- No, no, Marcus, I promise you.

- Yeah, that's what happened.

That's why Oreste keeps telling me

that I'm the one, true heir.

He knew something that my uncle had told him.

- No, I promise you that I've done nothing of the sort.

I was also surprised when I read Peter's final will.

- What, the last one?

- Yes, the last one.

In the preceding one, you're the sole beneficiary

of the entire estate.

Also, you don't know this, but your uncle has always

given you everything that you needed,

throughout all your life.

- That's not true; you're lying!

- Yes, it's true.

- No!

- Come with me.

(sniffing)

(somber instrumental music)

As Oreste said,

there are a lot of secret passages in this castle.

(rattling)

(uptempo instrumental music)

(struggling gasps)

- Marcus?

Chiara?

- Chiara?

Chiara?

What the fuck?

- Here you are.

- Hey, Sonja.

- Finally.

Here is the key to the crypt.

- Thanks.

- Hey, where's Chiara?

- I don't know, she left.

- No, her car's still outside.

- Hey, did you find Paolo or Chiara?

- [Elena] Chiara?

No, but it did find this.

It's my husband's notebook.

- Where was it?

- In the torture chamber, and it looks like

someone down there cleaned the instruments with bleach.

- Bleach?

- Wow, Marcus, it sounds like

you have some explaining to do.

- Excuse me?

- Yeah, yesterday evening, you, with Paolo.

And he's missing.

Today, you are with Chiara, and now she's missing as well.

So, what?

Have you got something to tell us?

- I don't know where they are.

Last time I saw Paolo was last night.

- Yeah, and what if last night,

you bumped into each other and something happened?

- Last night, I was with Chiara.

- Hm, nice, because she has gone missing.

What was it, Marcus?

Did she refuse to be your alibi?

- If it's such a big thing for you guys,

why don't we just call the police?

- Good idea, Baron.

- [Elena] Yes, I think we should.

- I have nothing to do with any of this, okay?

- The fact remains that two people are missing,

and my husband would never leave this lying around.

- Well, you're the only one saying

you found it in the torture chamber.

Look, admit it, you and your husband, you don't get on.

Okay?

Who's to say you didn't have some fight last night

and something happened?

- How dare you!

You don't believe his insinuations, do you?

- Okay, the police aren't coming.

There are floods in the town from the storm last night,

and they have no one available,

so we have to sort ourselves out.

Marcus, I have an idea.

With your permission, we will contain you in a room

and continue the search of the house ourselves.

- Well, that's very convenient.

Then you can plant evidence against me, can't you?

I see what's going on here.

This is a plot.

You guys are trying to take away my 50 percent

of the estate with these kinds of accusations.

- No one's gonna do that, Marcus.

- Yeah, well I don't trust you.

- I don't trust you, either.

But, unfortunately, you're the prime suspect, here.

- You hate my husband, and you spent the night with Chiara.

- I don't hate your husband.

- You have the motive.

It's safer for everyone this way.

- [Sonja] Yes, it's safer.

- You guys,

are fucking crazy.

(morose string music)

(discordant instrumental music)

(shattering)

(sawing)

(clattering)

(rattling)

(waltz music)

(dramatic instrumental music)

(pained shouting)

(melancholy instrumental music)

(uptempo orchestral music)

- Well, he's not in the castle.

Sorry.

- Look, if I wanted to hide a body, sorry,

but it seems that we are talking about that,

I would bury it in the garden.

Yeah, maybe, with all this rain and wind,

something might have been uncovered.

Hey, what's going on?

- It's nothing.

I have low blood pressure.

I just need to go and lie down for a while.

- Oh, okay.

Let's take you upstairs then, that's okay.

- No, no, that's okay.

You keep looking, I'll go by myself.

- We said we'd stay together.

- Yes, but we don't have to be worried about Marcus,

now that he's locked in.

- Well, that's true.

- Really, I'll be fine.

You can go.

- [Sonja] Okay.

Take care.

(strained grunting)

(clattering)

(strained grunting)

(clattering)

(ominous instrumental music)

- What the fuck?!

(pills rattling)

(ragged breathing)

You did all these pictures for me, right?

(ragged breathing)

You watched me from afar?

You put me through my studies.

You wanted to make sure I understand

the messages you've been leaving for me.

Now, this is the last one.

Self portrait of Courbet.

The desperate man, the crazy man.

But who are you hiding these messages from?

The crazy man; why were you crazy?

Because you were fucking your daughters, huh?

The other one about incest is Lott and his daughters.

The crazy man.

The crazy man sees the truth.

- Marcus.

You killed Paolo for me, didn't you?

- [Marcus] What?

No.

- You wanted me.

And you couldn't bear to see him touch me.

- [Marcus] What's happened to you?

(laughing)

I'm crazy in love with you.

I'm yours now.

Kiss me, Marcus.

Kiss me, Marcus!

Kiss me, Marcus!

(straining grunts)

(pained shouting)

- It's gonna hurt, okay?

(screaming)

(pained shouting)

Keep your hands on it, it'll stop the bleeding.

I'm gonna try and put you in the bed, okay?

(pained groaning)

Come on.

- I'm sorry.

- No.

- I don't know what happened to me.

- [Marcus] It's not your fault.

- It was like I was sleepwalking.

Like someone was controlling me.

- No, it's not your fault; there's something not right here.

- My husband!

(coughing)

Check his notebook!

He discovered something.

- Don't strain yourself, shh!

- Our (coughing) our family tree!

- What?

- The crypt.

He wanted to go to the crypt. (sobbing)

- Oh, my god!

Oh, my god.

No.

No, Elena!

(funereal instrumental music)

(sobbing)

(rustling)

No!

What are you doing, huh?

- The baron was wrong.

You are not his successor!

You're not the heir!

Louisa and I, we only serve the Cavendish family!

- So why are you burning it?

Who told you to do that?

- The baron! (maniacal laughing)

- Who is the baron?

Who is the baron?

(ominous instrumental music)

(pained screaming)

You're a monster!

(grunting)

- [Elena In Voiceover] The crypt!

He wanted to go to the crypt!

(eerie instrumental music)

(dramatic rock music)

- John Cavendish.

(somber piano music)

(scraping)

(dramatic instrumental music)

Well, if you're not here,

then where are you?

- I hate you.

And I will destroy you!

- You can't.

I'm inside you.

I am you.

- Why didn't you stop Viktoria?

- I'm not omnipotent, and neither are you.

Today, you lost three of your offspring,

because of one simple slip of the tongue by that servant.

- Viktoria didn't know she was my daughter.

- Of course she knew!

Everyone knows, and I am proud of them.

Viktoria didn't know how to deal with her daughter

being her rival, and you didn't have the courage

to punish that servant.

I had to get Oreste to do it.

- Viktoria did what I should have done,

if I had an ounce of humanity left.

- You are human.

You are more human than that subspecies

that diluted our genetic heritage.

- Goddamn you!

(dramatic instrumental music)

- When will you learn that it is pointless,

trying to oppose me?

(laughing)

(slapping)

(laughing)

(ragged breathing)

(clicking)

- Oh, my god!

- [Chiara] Marcus.

- What the fuck happened?

- Marcus.

Help me!

Please!

(grunting)

- Merci.

Merci, Marcus.

Merci, Marcus.

(grunting)

(laughing)

(eerie instrumental music)

- Right on time.

So proud of you.

- Well, that's Peter's watch; how did you get that?

- I took my inheritance.

- What, you're also one of Peter's sons?

- Yes, I am.

And so was Chiara.

The fruit of an affair between my father and his solicitor.

- And you knew this?

- Of course.

You don't think that this is my

first visit to the castle, do you?

I was born and bred specifically to be the new heir

to the Cavendish inheritance.

The direct descendant of John.

We are all John's children, apart from him.

This is why I have not fed him to our father.

His DNA's impure.

- So why did you kill him?

- Well, partly because he was fucking my sister,

and partly because I enjoyed it.

But mostly because John ordered me to.

Paolo was out of control.

- I don't understand.

- The DNA, Marcus.

D-N-A.

This is the true inheritance that John has passed on.

Paolo has no Cavendish DNA, and he could not control him.

Just as he can't control you.

Paolo was discovering too much,

but his skepticism was stopping him

from realizing what it all means.

At dinner, I put him to the test.

Regarding our extermination of the dinosaurs,

and the colonization of the planet.

- You mean, the Cavendishes,

that we, are aliens?

- No, not "we" Cavendishes.

We humans are all aliens.

Or, as Elena put it best, we are extraterrestrials.

This planet is not adapted well to support human life.

We had to colonize and transform it.

There was a great disaster,

and we lost contact with our brothers.

Only a few of us remained and began to breed

with the local humanoids.

Contaminating our genetic inheritance, and losing,

over the course of thousands of years, our great powers.

- What, like telekinesis?

- Exactly.

The things that humanoids of today call "magic"

were originally something that came naturally to us.

Humanoid food and drink, ah,

inhibit these powers.

But, LSD reactivates all the beautiful things

that you managed to experience.

What did you think?

That it was all just an illusion?

Anyway, enough of the history lesson.

Come here.

Allow me to introduce,

our father.

John Cavendish.

(tense instrumental music)

- Oh, my god.

You're a fucking tree.

- I wasn't always a tree.

But it has survived for centuries and waited

for the return of our brothers from other planets.

I combined my DNA with the plant DNA.

Which lives longer and is more recessive than ours.

When the time comes, I will return to being human again,

and all of my powers shall return.

- So that's why you eat your descendants?

To re-nutrify your soil?

- In every generation, I chose just one of the offspring,

and it is they who will pass on my genetic lineage.

- The one you can control like a puppet master.

- If you want to call it that.

- You eat them all.

Your sons, your daughters, your nieces, your nephews.

Your grandchildren, your great-grandchildren!

- And the rest of them.

- The Cavendishes,

we're monsters.

- No.

We are descended from pharaohs, from the kings of Israel!

We are the descendants of God!

Thomas, out of all of you,

is my favorite son.

- And me?

- You are an error.

The fruit of a separation of the genetic information.

I have been trying to destroy the shame of you

since the day you were born!

I tried to get your father to kill you,

but my control over him was weak.

And he was able to resist my power.

Then your uncle sent you far from here.

And you escaped my influence.

I lost my mobility, in exchange for my longevity.

The closer you are, and the purer your DNA,

the more power I have over you.

- And he sent me far away from here,

so that I would inherit everything.

And then you and the rest of your line would be destroyed.

And this is why I forced them to write a new will.

Bringing you all here,

so that I could enact my next regeneration.

- So, if Thomas dies, you have no more heirs.

(dramatic rock music)

(pained groaning)

- You are forgetting that I am the pure one.

You are weak.

The one that is watered down.

(grunting)

Forgive me, father.

I will be more specific.

(groaning)

(strained gurgling)

(laughing)

- John?

Peter's fucked you.

(valve squeaking)

(hissing)

(dramatic music)

(pained shouting)

(somber piano music)

(engine sputtering)

- Welcome home.

- Thank you, Oreste.

- Can I ask you something, Baroness?

- Yes, certainly.

- Have you thought of a name?

- I think I'm gonna call him John.

(ominous music)

- [Thomas] What did you think?

That it was all just an illusion?

(uptempo rock music)