Original subtitles

They say the truth will out.

But is it always that easy to see?

"Beyond Belief, Fact or Fiction."

Hosted by Jonathan Frakes.

We live in a world where the real and the unreal

live side by side, where substance

is disguised as illusion, and the only explanations

are unexplainable.

Can you separate truth from fantasy?

To do so you must break through the web of your experience

and open your mind to things beyond belief.

When we attempt to separate reality and illusion,

it's best not to trust our senses.

For example, this drawing.

Our eyes tell us that the line in the lower segment

is definitely longer than the line in the other one.

But let's-- let's look at the truth.

They're exactly the same length.

Tonight, we'll show you stories that

will cause you to challenge what your senses are telling.

Are the stories real or unreal?

We'll let you know at the end of our show.

In the meantime, be forewarned.

In order to tell the difference between reality and illusion,

you have to read between the lines.

Anyone who who's ever visited a theme park

knows how real they can make animatronic figures these days.

If you didn't know better, you'd swear

the same displays that are set up to amuse you

are a living, breathing things.

Ted Beeman works in a special effects house that

makes figures for theme parks, children's museums,

and the movies.

His skill at creating these lifelike creatures

would certainly earn the admiration

of the early pioneers in this field,

people like, for instance, Doctor Frankenstein.

If the masks and models on display in this workshop

look familiar to you, they should.

For this fantasy factory, located somewhere

on the outskirts of Hollywood, is responsible for creating

many of the special effects creatures

and monsters you've seen on your favorite TV shows and movies.

The goal of the craftsman here is

to get you to suspend your disbelief

and accept their work as a real.

And purely as a figure of speech, of course,

they want to scare you to death.

That was my fault. I'm sorry, Kirby.

Meet Ted Beeman.

He's the one wearing the glasses.

The hairy fellow is Ted's latest creation, Kirby.

When Ted and Kirby play their game of monkey see,

monkey do, millions of dollars are at stake.

Ted is obsessed with his work.

He's driven, involved, neurotic.

But one thing Ted is not is bored.

Tired too, Kirby?

Yeah.

Me too.

It's been a long five months.

But we've both been working real hard.

It's been great.

You've really been like that true friend to me.

You're the best.

Beeman.

Did you hear that?

It's Perry.

All right.

What's up with the lousy monkey?

His name's Kirby.

And he's not a lousy monkey, Perry.

He's a giant lowland gorilla. - All right.

He's a work of art. You feel better now?

Is he-- is he ready?

I'm still having some problems.

Great.

The studio's been calling me all morning.

I mean, they start shooting next week.

They want the ape now or they are going to hold up payment.

Now, I'm not gonna take the hit for that, Beeman.

I know what I'm doing. I'll get him to work.

It's a software problem.

I just need more time.

Time is up.

OK?

I want that piece of junk working.

Do not call him a piece of junk, not in front of him.

What?

What am I gonna do?

Am I gonna hurt his feelings?

You know, you-- you're one weird dude, Beeman.

In my day, we did not have to rely on computer geeks,

like you.

I mean, you're sitting around here all day, all night.

You never go anywhere. You never do anything.

You don't even have a life.

I enjoy my work.

Uh huh.

Well, I don't think I don't hear you

talking to these things in here, like they were really alive.

You're a real freak case.

But you listen up, I want that big ape

ready to ship first thing tomorrow morning

or you are gone.

And I will make sure that you don't work

at any other shop in this town.

What are we going to do, Kirby?

I can't let you go.

It'd be like selling a friend.

Best friend I ever had.

I have an idea.

Sorry, Kirby.

We won't be able to play for a while.

But this will give us more time.

The story goes that Ted

Beeman took something home with him from work that night.

See you in the morning, off buddy.

In the corridors of Hollywood,

they still talk about what happened that night,

something seen only by artificial eyes,

set in artificial heads.

Beeman.

Beeman?

Beeman.

Where is that jerk?

Oh, come on.

He should be working on that thing.

Beeman.

All right. That's it.

He's finished.

He-- oh, look at you, you half a million

dollar pile of worthless junk.

OK.

What's going on here?

Yeah.

OK.

It looks like you're working just fine to me.

OK.

Baby, I'm shipping you off tomorrow morning.

And I'm gonna fire that idiot, Beeman.

Huh?

OK.

Let's put you away now, huh?

Oh, great. Great.

Malfunction.

Well, I'll just shut you down.

Hey. Come on.

Shut down.

Hey. Hey, shut down.

Come on.

Shut down.

Come on.

Shut--

Hey.

Hey. Hey.

Hey.

Hey.

Open up.

Help.

Beeman, let me out.

Beeman.

What happened?

Owner's dead.

Fell down the rolling stairs.

Broke his neck.

Perry Burke is dead?

Wait a minute.

I left you-- no.

That's impossible.

I pulled your driver board.

So how did you get here?

What happened here?

Did Ted's creation really kill Perry?

Kirby's driver board had been removed.

So how could he have moved?

Did he actually come to life on his own?

Or did Ted Beeman kill his boss and concoct this entire story

to fool the police?

Or is it we who concocted this story to fool you?

We'll find out if this story is true or false

at the end of our show.

Next, two young men encounter a mysterious woman

of haunting beauty on "Beyond Belief, Fact or Fiction."

Attraction.

It's a curious phenomenon, both in nature

and in human behavior.

The saying opposites attract isn't just some cliche.

It's elementary science.

Magnetic poles of the same quality

naturally pull away from each other.

But change one and the attraction

is impossible to stop.

The next story is about magnetic attraction

between a man and a woman, an attraction so

strong it defies explanation.

Matt and I like to go for a run each day

after our last class at Polytech.

We always follow the same three mile

route through the neighborhood that bordered our college.

Only this day, for some reason, we chose a different path.

Look at that, a gorgeous girl in a miniskirt is in trouble.

Pinch me.

I think I'm dreaming.

How do you know she's in trouble?

Did you ever think she might be breaking into the house?

Maybe there's a guy with a gun in a car waiting for her.

I don't care.

I just want to meet her.

I knew Matt was right.

And we probably should've minded our own business.

But I couldn't help myself.

Hi.

Do you need any help?

I locked myself out.

Are you sure this is your house?

Ignore him.

He's very distrusting.

I've lived here my whole life.

I left my keys right there on the table.

Hey, it happens.

I lock myself out all the time.

Don't worry.

I'll get your keys.

I didn't even know how to break into a house.

But I wanted to impress this woman.

She was so absolutely beautiful.

Got them.

I got a bad feeling about this.

You got a bad feeling about everything, Matt.

OK.

I'll give you that.

Would you look at this place.

Not only is she gorgeous, but she's rich too.

Why is there an echo?

It's a big room.

But it's furnished.

Oh, hi.

We didn't hear you coming.

I didn't know how to thank you.

You both have been so helpful.

It's no big deal.

By the way, I'm Ben.

And this is Matt.

Weird.

Beautiful place.

Do you live here alone?

No.

I live with my parents.

They're away on business in Europe.

Well, here's to misplaced keys and great new friendships.

So do you go to school around here or anything like that?

No, not anymore.

Oh.

Interesting.

What kind of music do you like?

Donna Summer, The BeeGees.

Great.

Cool. Retro.

Very hip.

It's-- it's cool.

So I guess we'll see you around sometime.

What was your name again?

Thank you very much for your help.

That was the weirdest woman I ever met in my entire life.

She wouldn't tell us her name.

Yeah, she's a little weird.

But that's what I like about her.

She's like a challenge.

Yeah.

Maybe she'll let your shake her hand on the fifth date.

The next day, I insisted we take the same jogging route.

I wanted to see her again.

What happened to this house?

Hey.

What happened to this house?

We were inside just yesterday and it was like new.

Not this house.

Wait a minute.

I mean, maybe we're on the wrong street.

You must be.

No.

This is the house.

I-- I'm sure of it.

That's impossible.

This house has been closed up ever

since a young girl committed suicide in in 20 years ago.

Her parents moved to Europe right after it happened.

They died early this year.

And now, the bank wants to sell it.

No.

We sat inside that house and drank lemonade

with a beautiful, living woman.

Well, I got a key, if you guys want to go take a look.

Yeah.

Let's go.

This has got be some kind of joke.

Look at that.

Footprints.

Somebody's been here.

That's my footprint.

But this isn't how it was.

I don't like this.

I don't like this at all.

Hey, Ben, that's where our glasses were.

Look.

What happened to the other imprint?

Ben this is really freaking me out.

Hey, guys, the floor.

Come here.

Look at the floor.

Did Ben and Matt really encounter

a spirit from the hereafter?

Were they really in that house the night before?

If so how could the house have been boarded up and unused?

Maybe they had their streets confused

and actually had visited a similar house on another block.

But then, how do you explain those footsteps in the dust?

Is this story real?

Or have we constructed a house of lies?

We'll find out if this story is true or false

at the end of our show.

Next, a baffling crime on the beach

reveals a surprise killer on "Beyond

Belief, Fact or Fiction."

This is a stamp used by some police departments

to mark their case work as solved.

Too many times, this stamp can't be

used, due to blind leads, clever alibis, or unwilling witnesses.

Many crimes remain a mystery forever.

Detective Hank Reese is a legend among detectives.

He's never had an open ended case.

But he's about to be faced with the most

baffling crime of his career.

And he must call upon all his experience

to put his stamp on it.

The Southern

California beaches are the most beautiful in the world.

That's why I moved to a house on the water

almost five years ago.

Maybe it's because I'm a cop, but I like it

when the beaches are clean and free of litter,

especially dead bodies.

She was my neighbor.

But now, she was the victim of a bullet in the chest.

Hey, Hank, don't you live around here?

A couple doors down.

I've seen her a couple of times, running

on the beach with her dog.

What a waste.

Shot point blank at close range.

No sign of a struggle.

Somebody just walked up and blew her away.

I wonder why she didn't run.

Either she knew him or else he surprised her.

Got some footprints.

Stocking feet?

They head off down the beach and disappear

at the high tide line.

I wonder why he took off his shoes.

Maybe he didn't want to leave shoe print?

Maybe.

I don't suppose there any witness?

No.

Nobody even heard the gunshot.

Waves probably muffled it.

She lived with her boyfriend.

He's pretty shook up.

I probably should've

stayed out of this one.

It was literally too close to home.

But like I said, I don't like people who litter my beach.

So she wanted to go out jogging on the beach,

but you were too tired?

Yeah, that's it.

I usually go, but I was too wiped out.

I had a 18-hour recording session yesterday.

I should've gone.

Then, this never would've happened.

Say, how was your relationship?

What's that supposed to mean? I loved her.

We were going to get married?

No arguments?

No fights?

Sure we had arguments.

Everybody has arguments.

Don't you have arguments?

Did you ever hit her?

Never.

I don't do that.

You think I killed her, don't you?

Did you?

I don't want to talk to you anymore.

I'm calling my lawyer.

I loved her.

I didn't kill her.

Dino.

I didn't like this guy at all.

But I guess we were even.

His dog didn't like me.

What is it about dogs and me?

It's been the same since I was a kid.

That's weird.

He's usually very friendly.

I guess he doesn't like cops.

I pored over every detail of the crime.

The boyfriend took a polygraph test,

but it proved inconclusive.

I hated the pretty boy and his mutt,

but I wasn't sure he was a murderer.

If he was guilty though, he wasn't going to get away

with it, not on my home turf.

Harve, there is something not right about this case.

I can't put my finger on it.

Tuna?

You got anything?

Well, I found some blood in the skin tissue

under her fingernails.

You find a suspect, we can go for a DNA match.

Anything else?

So far, that's it, besides the slug.

You're not gonna get much out of this.

It's a 9 millimeter.

Every crook in the country carries a 9 millimeter.

It's standard equipment.

All right.

Thanks.

Hey, Hank. DETECTIVE HANK REESE: Yeah?

Drop this in evidence for me, would you?

Save me a trip. - All right.

I'll take it into them tomorrow morning.

I was exhausted.

For the past several months, I'd been waking up tired.

My supervisor had been begging me to take some time off.

And maybe I would, but only after I took care of this mess

on my beach.

For some reason, all my dreams were turning

into horrible nightmares.

I would relive each crime that I was investigating,

in every grisly detail.

I felt like I needed a nap.

And I feared inside what my dream would be.

It was like all my other dreams.

Too real for a cop to feel every time he closes his eyes.

It was the victim running along, full of youth and life.

And then, suddenly, she sees somebody she knows.

Maybe it was that lousy boyfriend of hers.

And then, it's always so damn real.

It was a panic attack.

I'd had them before.

I had to calm down so I could think clearly.

My clothes were soaked with sweat.

I had to get out of them.

That's when I saw it, for the first time.

I must've done it myself in my dream.

Where the hell did these come from?

Oh, man.

I need a shower and some sleep.

My socks were damp and Sandy.

I still had the bullet with me.

Every crook in the country carries a 9 millimeter,

but so do the cops.

I had to find out if what I was thinking

could possibly be true.

I found the spent slug in the page

that lists emergency numbers.

I held it up against the murder bullet, a perfect match.

I wake up tired every morning, because I

sleep walk every night.

The murderer was me.

Could this be true?

Could a man commit a crime and not know it?

Have you ever experienced a sleepwalking episode, either

by you or somebody near you?

It can be quite startling.

Sleepwalkers have been known to get dressed, drive a car,

even eat dinner, all while sound asleep.

Did this story of the cop who discovers his own guilt

sound true to you?

Or are we guilty of deception?

We'll find out if this story is true or false

at the end of our show.

Next, a church choir has a rendezvous with destiny

on "Beyond Belief, Fact or Fiction."

Time is on our minds, perhaps too much these days.

Timers, alarm clocks, calendars, day planners all geared

to tell us where we have to be.

Of course, sometimes we actually look

forward to these appointments.

We make sure we set time aside for them.

For some, it's a bowling night.

For others, a card game or, perhaps, a weekly lunch

with close friends.

For the members of the St. Mordecai Baptist Church,

it was the weekly choir practice.

7 PM every Thursday, a joyful time to create a joyful noise.

Sister Louise Pittman and her mighty rays

of joy had been singing together for the past 10 years

at St. Mordecai's Baptist Church.

They pride themselves on their perfect pitch.

And Sister Louise prides herself on having perfect control.

I will pray every time.

Feel the spirit.

Moving in my heart.

I will pray.

Yeah, well, how was that, Louise?

Sounded good to me.

Excuse me, James, is your name Louise?

And are you the head of this choir?

I don't think so.

I'm sorry, Louise, I got a little carried away by my solo.

I think it sounded particularly clear this evening.

Particularly.

After

Oh, it was clear all right.

It was clear you were going for a solo career.

You know what I would do, baby?

I'd pull back just a little bit.

Because remember, you are a part of a group.

Yes, ma'am.

All right.

You know, it's getting late.

So I don't see any point in starting a new song.

I'll see you all on Sunday.

First service, 8 AM.

Yes, ma'am.

Hello.

There she goes again.

Every week, she tells us the same thing.

I mean, we've been together 10 years.

We know the schedule.

You know how she is about punctuality.

Be on time or lose a dime/

Remember, that's Sunday 8 AM.

And on Thursday, rehearsal as usual, 7 PM sharp.

Be on time or lose a dime.

The week passed quickly

and then it was Thursday.

Choir rehearsal night once again.

Laurence left an important business

meeting early so that he could get to rehearsal on time.

And Shelly was preoccupied on the phone.

You can't keep letting him push you around.

Oh, wait a minute.

No, choir practice tonight.

Oh, I've got plenty of time.

Now, where was I. Oh, yeah, if he was my man,

the line in the sand would be drawn.

Calvin was waiting in front of his house

for James to pick him up.

It was always like this, Calvin pacing impatiently

while James shows up at the last minute.

The same ritual they went through every Thursday night.

But this time, James was actually ahead of schedule.

Well, I think we're gonna be early.

Hey, better early than late, right?

You know that's right.

However, Laurence

was not having any luck at all.

His engine refused to turn over.

Come on.

This can not be happening, not on Thursday.

Lord.

Sister Louise lived within walking

distance of the church.

Every Thursday night, she would leave promptly at 6:40,

knowing that she would hit the first step of the church

at exactly 6:55.

She always liked arriving five minutes early,

to set a good example.

Do you believe this?

Two blow outs the same time.

What are the odds of this happening?

We better take pictures, man.

Sister Louise is gonna want proof.

Right on schedule.

I already told you what I thought you should do.

OK.

I understand you love the man.

Uh huh.

Wait a minute.

What time do you have?

10 to 7?

Oh, no.

My clock stopped, on a Thursday. Girl, I got to go.

I'll talk to you later.

Excuse me, you're gonna have to move that barricade.

I got to get through here right now.

I'm sorry, ma'am.

But that's not possible.

See, the rain last night undercut the street.

And now, we've got a big sinkhole.

I mean, it's just not safe.

But that means I'm gonna have to take the long way around

to St. Mordecai.

That's right, ma'am.

Well, that's gonna make me late for choir practice.

I'm sorry. - No, darling.

You don't understand.

I haven't been late once in 10 years.

Give me strength, Lord.

Give me strength.

What the Lord did

provide for Sister Louise was a lift on an emergency vehicle.

And even with that, she arrived at the church

after her sacred starting time of 7 PM.

What happened?

Gas main broke.

Church blew up 10 minutes ago.

Is everybody all right?

Yeah, we're all right.

I'm OK.

Strangest thing happened.

It's first time we've all been late in 10 years.

Praise the Lord.

Praise the Lord.

Every member of the choir

had a problem that night, an ironic circumstance that not

only kept them from being in the church at 7 PM,

it also kept them alive.

Is it mere coincidence that every member of the choir

was saved on the same night?

Or is it possible that a higher spirit

was protecting this group of inspirational singers?

What's your judgment on this story of the choir

who escaped certain tragedy?

Is it a work of fiction or gospel truth?

We'll find out if this story is true or false

at the end of our show.

Next, a chair comes complete with a rich history

and a terrible curse on "Beyond Belief, Fact or Fiction."

Do you believe in the power of a curse?

Lava rocks from a volcano in Maui

said to be ruled by the goddess Pele have been

known to bring misfortune to people who

take them home as souvenirs.

Precious jewelry, like this diamond,

has brought misfortune to its wealthy owners

through the centuries.

And what about this unusually shaped chair?

It was originally designed for cold rooms

to protect people from drafts.

But as for this particular chair,

protection is the last thing it provides.

Steel magnate George

Talbot III inherited a billion dollar

business from his late father.

He spent most of his time traveling the world

in search of priceless relics.

Like so many sons of the rich, he was spoiled rotten.

That's why he was one of my favorite clients.

But this time, George's obsession had gone too far.

It's here.

Right through here.

And we're going through right through this archway.

Even though I was making a sizable commission by procuring

this chair on his behalf, I was very afraid of the reputation

that came along with it.

Just put it right over there.

Care-- care-- careful.

George Talbot had just become the current owner

of the hooded chair.

I could only pray for his well-being.

It's really the perfect addition

to your collection, Mr. Talbot.

Yes.

Yes, it is.

I tried to put up a good front,

but I was frightened by his behavior.

As he circled his latest possession,

he seemed to be falling under some kind of spell.

I only hoped he wouldn't be tempted to defy the fates.

You're not going to sit-in that, are you?

Why not?

I certainly don't believe in that ridiculous curse

that's attached to it.

If I did, I wouldn't have had you buy it, now would I?

See?

Nothing.

It's not very comfortable.

I certainly don't feel cursed.

Now, I'd like to see that list of the previous owners, please.

Oh, I'm working on it.

But it's been really hard to track all of them down.

This chair is over 300 years old and there

have been a lot of owners.

Just get me the list Ms. Weissman.

That's what I pay you for.

Yes, sir.

I wasn't there the next day.

But I've heard the story many times.

Jenny, the downstairs maid, let her curiosity

get the best of her.

It's too hard.

That chair is not for you to sit in, Jenny.

It is for me and my guests.

Do you understand?

Yes, sir.

I just wanted to see what it felt like.

Another week went by at the Talbot house.

And then, came the news. - Hello?

What?

How-- how did it happen?

Jenny was killed by a drunk driver

while crossing the street, just one week after George Talbot

found her sitting in the hooded chair.

It's impossible.

He refused to believe

that the chair had anything to do with Jenny's untimely death.

But in the deep recesses of his mind, he had his suspicions.

The next week, his close friend Eric came to visit.

He insisted on sitting in the chair over Mr.

Talbot's strenuous objections.

Two days later, Eric Cates was piloting

his private plane to a meeting in upstate New York.

The plane's engines suddenly failed for no reason,

sending him to a fiery death.

The chair had claimed another victim.

For the next month, George Talbot's life continued

to get increasingly worse.

Talbot Steele was besieged by lawsuits

and teetered on the brink of bankruptcy.

It was becoming too much for Talbot.

Everything his father had built, he was about to lose.

Mr. Talbot?

What do you want?

Are you all right?

I found the documentation about the chair.

I could come back.

No.

I want to see that right away.

You won't believe it.

Amazing, isn't it?

It's Napoleon.

Look at the date.

June 17, 1815.

Napoleon was in a farmhouse

in Belgian planning strategy for his battle the next day.

That battle was in a place called Waterloo.

Mr. Talbot, this chair is part of history.

Napoleon used it before the greatest

military defeat of all time.

It is cursed.

That chair is cursed.

Mr. Talbot, can I get you anything?

Are you all right?

No.

Leave me be.

I will not be destroyed by a chair.

So what is the truth here?

Was the hooded chair really cursed?

Was it the same chair Napoleon sat

on before he met his Waterloo?

Or was that just another chair with a similar design?

And what about the misfortune that befell Talbot?

Was it due to the chair or just coincidence?

Maybe this story is totally made up

and this chair has no curse at all.

But then, again, why take chances?

It may stand up as truth.

Coming up, we'll find out which of our stories

tonight were fact and which were fiction

when "Beyond Belief" returns.

Now, it's time to review our stories

and reveal which ones were false and which ones

were inspired by actual events.

The story of the animatronic gorilla with a mind of its own.

Did this one really happen?

Hey, hey. Come on.

Shut down.

Hey. Hey.

Shut down. Come on.

Shut down.

Come on.

Hey, come on.

Come on.

Did you guess that a similar story to this one did occur?

Not this time. It never happened.

And how about the two men, the mansion, and the spirit

of a woman they met?

So I guess we'll see you around sometime.

What was your name again?

Thank you very much for your help.

If you thought this one was based on a real event,

we got you.

It never happened.

And what about the detective that found that the murderer

he was seeking was himself?

Is there really a recorded case of a policeman

who found himself guilty and then booked himself for murder?

Yes, there is.

A similar event took place.

Now, let's take a second look at the story

of the church choir that mysteriously escaped tragedy.

True or false?

What happened?

Gas main broke.

Church blew up 10 minutes ago.

Is everybody all right?

Yeah, we're all right.

I'm OK.

Strangest thing happened.

It's the first time we've all been late in 10 years.

Praise the Lord.

Did a similar incident to this one actually

happened to a church choir?

Yes, it did.

This one took place.

And how about the chair whose curse had been

handed down from the days of Napoleon?

I will not be destroyed by a chair.

If you thought we made this one up,

you've met your Waterloo.

The tale of this chair was inspired by a true story.

Were you able to spot the truth tonight?

Or were you taken in by illusion?

Sometimes the difference can be so slight,

who can blame one for finding the conclusions beyond belief?

I'm Jonathan Frakes.

Join us for more stories, next time,

on "Beyond Belief, Fact or Fiction."