Original subtitles

The plane! The plane!

Good morning, boss.

Oh, you look so great. You look so fantastic.

Well, thank you, Tattoo.

The, uh, boutonniere, may I ask what it's for?

Oh, the boutonniere, it's for you, boss.

Bend down. There you are.

You're going to look smashing.

There you are. Oh, you look fantastic.

Really beautiful.

Can I do anything for you, boss? Anything else?

Tattoo, why am I suspicious?

Suspicious? You?

Uh, well, gosh, uh, boss, I don't know.

Uh, perhaps it is because you seem to be trying to kill me with all this kindness.

And that usually means something is definitely wrong.

Wrong?

Oh, here comes the rover.

Come on, boss, we don't want to be late. Let's go.

Wait, boss.

Oh, hold it.

Uh, Tattoo... Hey, boss.

We don't want our guests to be waiting. Come on, let's go.

There you are. Are you all right, boss?

Yes.

Okay, let's go. Go.

Smiles, everyone. Smiles.

Mr. and Mrs. Peter Rawlings from Hollywood, California.

Hollywood? Yes.

Are they famous movie star or something?

Or something.

Huh?

Yes, you see, while Mr. Rawlings isn't exactly famous,

you have seen him in many of your favorite movies and didn't notice.

I didn't? You didn't.

You see, for the past 23 years before his retirement,

Mr. Rawlings was Hollywood's premiere stuntman.

What's his fantasy, boss?

Mrs. Rawlings believes they are here so Mr. Rawlings can be reunited with his son,

who is currently one of Hollywood's top stuntmen.

You see, after a bitter argument,

father and son haven't spoken in the last five years.

But there is something more.

Something that Mr. Rawlings didn't tell his wife.

Oh, indeed there is, Tattoo.

You see, Mr. Rawlings' real fantasy is to save his son's life.

His son's life? Is he in danger?

Mr. Rawlings thinks so.

You see, he feels that his son has never stopped competing

with the legend Mr. Rawlings left behind.

With each picture, his stunts become more dangerous, more daring.

Until now, Mr. Rawlings has stayed on the sidelines and remained silent.

Until now? What will happen now?

Mrs. Marjorie Gibbs, all the way from Santa Fe, New Mexico,

where she operates the Ace Truck Stop Fast Food Grill.

Mrs. Gibbs' fantasy is to compete in and win

the Fantasy Island Grand Cuisine and Cookery Contest.

Her? In our cooking contest?

Yes. Well, you see, a new freeway bypassed her establishment,

so all of her old customers, the long-haul truckers on Highway Five,

have contributed money to send her here.

Mrs. Gibbs hopes that winning our cookery contest will give her the money

to relocate her restaurant on a new route.

But, boss, some of the most famous chefs in the world are here for our contest.

How does she hope to win?

My dear guests, I am Mr. Roarke, your host.

Welcome to Fantasy Island.

All right, and action!

Look, there's Bill.

Cut it! Print!

Hey, made you look like a million dollars.

Dynamite! Oh, kick-block!

You guys all right? No.

Hank might've broke his arm, boss.

Come on, he's a tough old boy.

Easy, Bill.

Bill, I told you somebody could get hurt.

Don't be so uptight, Paul.

Well, I see retirement agrees with you both.

You look like an ad for a health spa.

Did you ever consider getting off your royal duff

and getting back into harness?

Uh... Hi, Mom.

Oh, Billy!

You look great. Excuse me.

Hey, Jim, I got a small problem on the next gag.

Oh? Billy.

Aren't you gonna say hello to your father?

Hi, Pete. Uh, like I said, Jim,

I've got a problem setting up the next stunt.

Cleve Mitchell was gonna take the fall, right?

He was supposed to be in on last night's plane,

only he missed connections and now I'm one man short.

If it's okay with you, I'd like Butch to take that fall.

I thought Butch was gonna be your safety man in case you had a problem?

Not gonna have a problem.

Besides, this way it'll be a more spectacular stunt.

Perhaps Mr. Rawlings could fill in.

What?

No way.

Aren't you letting your personal feelings interfere

with your judgments, Mr. Rawlings?

But he hasn't worked in five years.

Still in pretty good shape. I could handle it.

I said no way.

I'm the stunt coordinator and I said no.

Bill, I'm sorry to pull rank on you,

but you know the kind of schedule that we've got.

And I just can't afford to lose any more men.

Now, you're the stunt coordinator and you call all the shots.

But let's let your dad fill in on this one.

Get yourself to wardrobe, get outfitted and meet me at the cliffs.

Pete, exactly what are you doing?

Look, it's all right. I can handle it.

And it might give father and son the opportunity

to view each other from a somewhat different perspective, Mrs. Rawlings.

Exactly.

You go on with Mr. Roarke, honey, and don't worry about anything.

I'll see you after we wrap.

Mr. Roarke, my fantasy was for a father and son reunion,

not for a twin funeral.

Thank you.

You're welcome.

Oh, my goodness. Look at all that beautiful food.

Yes, it is rather impressive, isn't it? Oh, yes.

Ah, Mr. Lange, so nice to see you again.

Ah, Mr. Joe Lange, this is Mrs. Marjorie Gibbs,

one of your competitors.

Charmed, I'm sure.

Likewise.

We're gonna have a very tasty fantasy.

Oh, I would say so, yes.

We have the superstar of the gourmet world.

Does that mean that I don't have a prayer?

Oh, Mrs. Gibbs, where is your faith?

This is Fantasy Island.

I wouldn't have agreed to your fantasy if you didn't have a chance.

However, as Tattoo said,

they are the best chefs in the world.

Carlo Franconi from Italy.

Mikael Gabor from Budapest.

Oh, look at that.

Yes. Antoine de Vouvray, one of the great chefs of France.

Isn't that so, Tattoo?

Oh, yes, boss.

At least he was.

His famed Paris restaurant, Chez Antoine,

was recently demoted from three stars to one on the gourmet guide.

You might be wary of him, Mrs. Gibbs.

It is said he is a desperate man.

He can only regain his reputation by winning this weekend here.

Well, I'm not afraid of competition.

Not too much.

That's the right attitude.

Now, the grading will be continued under the direction of our chief judge,

George Boufetu, the world famed authority on haute cuisine.

Come, let me introduce you.

A bit thin on the bourbon, yeah.

George.

George Boufetu.

I did not know that you were going to do the judging.

Might even be hard-pressed on this one, old boy.

You've only one star left to lose.

After this, it's running one of those junk food franchises

that are so infesting the colonies, boy.

Oh, look how cute we are.

She's too cute to cook.

I'm not going to cook it.

Idiot.

Fresh pate.

Patty.

What a super name for a goose. And she's a girl.

Good heavens. Who's this? The scullery wench?

Mr. Boufetu, may I introduce our last contestants?

Must you?

Mrs. Marjorie Gibbs and Mr. Joe Lange.

Charmed, I'm sure.

I am certain our new contestants would like to see the kitchen.

Tattoo, will you show the way?

This way, please.

Mr. Roarke.

Oh, really, Roarke, if these two oddities give me ptomaine,

I shall sue you for this entire island.

I am certain that will not be necessary, Mr. Boufetu.

Well, couldn't you simply tell these peasants that pate is goose liver

and not the silly bird's name?

Somehow I got the impression they wouldn't like to know.

Hey, old timer!

Hey, let's wreck something, huh?

The world's oldest semi-living stuntman.

Thought they'd have you stuffed and hanging in a museum.

Now, how are you, Snuff?

I'm doing better now that you're here.

Maybe you can talk some sense into boy wonder.

Yeah. Listening to me was never one of that boy's strong points.

But I appreciate your telegram.

Well, you know, I figured somebody's gotta talk to him

or else he's gonna get himself killed.

Which one do you think he'll buy it on?

Here, come on.

Good guys in one boat chasing the bad guys in the other,

played by two dummies.

One is a department store mannequin and the other one is your kid.

We get going about 50, 60 miles an hour,

take a couple of shots at him.

Billy takes a hit, veers off, goes up a ramp,

explodes through a fuel storage hut,

lands on the other side in a big ball of flames and, uh,

he's got a switch triggered in the boat which sets off the charges in the hut.

Gonna need a full burn suit for that, all right.

Yeah. Airtight and sealed. Minute and a half air bottle.

He's also got fire extinguishers in the boat

to put out the fire when he lands.

It's a great stunt, though.

Almost ingenious.

I agree with you. It's far too dangerous.

If he doesn't blow himself up, he'll suffocate.

We're calling it Rawlings' Folly.

Or suicide.

Well, anyway.

See, I'd never cooked for anybody but my husband, Matt.

Oh, he just loved good food.

So, when he passed away, I started up the grill.

I had to do something to, you know, fight the loneliness.

Yeah, I know. It helps keep you busy.

Oh, yeah.

Mmm.

Oh, you've got a little smudge there. Right there.

So you own your own place, huh?

Well, not for too much longer, I guess.

I don't have much chance against all the pros around here.

Around people like you.

I'm nothing.

I run an all-night joint in Trenton, New Jersey, called the Pleasure Palate.

I sort of specialize in my own spare ribs.

Yeah, anyway, the guys like what I dish out,

so they took up a collection to enter me in the contest.

Fat chance against the French flesh over there.

Oh, Patty, Patty.

Easy.

Oh, Patty.

No!

Joe!

Are you all right, Joe?

Oh, wait, wait. Wait, wait!

You'll only frighten her.

Oh, Patty, darling.

Look who's here. It's Margie.

Yeah, sweetheart. There, there, there you are.

Oh, good girl. Come on, now.

She's all right. See that?

I never saw a goose go crazy like that.

What's the matter with her?

Matter?

Nothing is the matter with the goose, monsieur.

It just refused to eat. That is all.

Come along. Come on, come on.

Well, maybe she's not hungry.

Yes, but when she's not hungry, that's...

I'm surrounded by imbeciles.

Out of my quarter, into your area.

Into your area!

Come, cherie.

Open your mouth. Come on, now. A little bit more.

Come on. Now you like it, yes.

Yeah, yeah, yes. Don't say no. Open your mouth.

Well, any man that wants to play a nursemaid to a goose

can't be all bad.

Uh, yes, Mr. Besler, I am certain we can fulfill your fantasy.

Yes. Uh-huh.

Uh, how many mermaids?

How many?

Well, that's more than I anticipated but...

But I'm sure we can accommodate you, yes.

When do you wish to experience your fantasy, Mr. Besler?

Well, let me check my calendar. Just one moment, please.

Um...

Yes, yes, I think those dates will work out very satisfactorily.

Uh-huh.

Yes. Um...

How many will there be in your party?

Mr. Besler, something unexpected has come up.

May I call you back in a few minutes?

Thank you.

Tattoo.

Yes, boss.

Precisely, what is going on here?

I'm just trying to light your pipe, boss.

I haven't smoked a pipe in years.

All right, out with it.

Just why are you trying so desperately to kill me with kindness?

Oh, I'm just trying to earn my keep, boss.

Well, then I will appreciate it very much

if you earn your keep in some other less distracting way.

Hmm? Do you understand?

Uh, yes, boss.

Good, Tattoo, good.

Marker.

Action!

There's nowhere to go except down.

Cut and print.

All right. Let's get the stunt doubles over here, Bill.

Look, if you think I'm gonna do that explosion gag tomorrow, you're crazy.

Well, good. Fine.

While you're at it, why don't you go pick up your paycheck

and take a hike?

Bill, Pete, you two guys ready?

Yeah, come on. This is where you earn your money.

Yeah. Done this gag a million times.

- You guys ready? - Quiet.

Ready when he is.

Roll.

Ready.

Marker.

And action!

Well?

Had enough?

What's next?

You may be sorry you asked.

Action!

Are you all right, Pete?

Look, um... Look, I've been thinking.

Maybe you ought to quit before something...

Well, you know, how things can go wrong and...

Well, you're no kid.

Since when are you concerned with other people's health?

You gonna make that same speech to the fellow that's gonna drive that boat

through that inferno tomorrow?

Listen, that's my gag, so you leave it alone.

I even had him write it into the script before I agreed to do this picture.

It's the one stunt that's gonna set me apart from the rest of you.

The rest of you.

You mean me.

You think it's the one gag that'll finally erase the legend of your old man?

You'd drive a boat through the fires of hell to do that, wouldn't you?

Mmm. I think it's done. Let's try it.

What's cooking, good-looking?

Well, I'm just testing out my spinach pie recipe.

I'll cut you both a piece if you'd like.

Oh, no, that's not fair. I shouldn't taste your entree.

Oh, go on, try it.

You'll love it.

Mmm.

Wow, this is great.

My own secret recipe.

I guess that's the best thing I have ever tasted.

Well, if you want the recipe, it's right over there on the table.

Not before the judging.

Maybe later, when it's over.

Something wrong?

Oh, no.

I was just thinking.

It's the first time I've been comfortable with any man since Matt died.

I feel real comfortable, too.

Say, how would you like to take a walk by the lagoon?

Sure. Lead the way.

See you later, Tattoo.

Have fun. - Delicious!

Can you not read English? You have no right to be here.

This is a gastronomic top secret.

Sorry, but you will have to go a long way to beat this.

Have a bite.

What is this? An insult to Antoine?

Why, I would not even feed it to my goose to make him sick.

What is this pap?

This concoction. This...

Good luck with the contest, mon ami. You're gonna need it.

Antoine must win.

Antoine must have that recipe.

Hmm. Spinach pie, yes.

Half a cup of bread crumbs.

But, of course. Of course.

This will win Antoine the four-star rating that he needs.

Yes, of course.

Pete, what's this really all about?

I mean, what was the real reason that you came to Fantasy Island?

Was it to be reunited with Bill?

Or was the real reason that you wanted to pick up

where you left off five years ago

and continue your insane version of Russian roulette?

Honey, I love you.

But you're no kid. And you gotta realize that your career is over

and that Bill is the best.

The best.

Craziest perhaps, but being the best entails a responsibility.

All he cares about is being better than his old man.

Half of the stunt men in Hollywood won't work with him.

Three more that quit today.

Pete, it may sound selfish,

but I really don't care that much about those other men.

I care about my husband and my son.

And I don't want to see either one of them hurt or killed.

I want us to be a family again.

We will be.

But on this one, you're just gonna have to trust me.

But where would my spinach pie recipe be?

Think, Marge, where did you last see it?

It was right here on this table.

Oh, here you are.

I've been looking for you all over the place.

Antoine has changed his menu at the last minute.

You better read it.

Look.

Does that mean what I think it means?

It does if you think that it means spinach pie.

Antoine stole your recipe.

He's not gonna get away with this.

I'm afraid it's too late. He already has entered it as his own.

And that means that no one can use his recipe.

You mean, I can't enter my spinach pie?

I'm sorry.

You said Patty was on the menu.

Not exactly. Only her liver.

Her liver?

It's not Patty, it's pate.

You see, to make pate de foie gras,

first you take a goose and you make her liver grow big.

And then you kill her, and then you serve her liver.

And that's what you call pate de foie gras.

Over my dead body. He may have stolen my recipe,

but he's not gonna touch Patty.

Oh, I don't care whose goose she is.

Oh, poor baby.

Oh, Antoine's not gonna touch a hair on your head.

Actually, it's feathers.

She looks green around the gills.

Let's get her out of here.

Okay.

My goose.

Marge.

They took my goose. My goose was there. I...

Hey, stop! Give me that! Give me that!

There goes another wild goose chase.

Stop! Stop! Give me that goose.

This is the most insulting thing that has ever happened to me!

I demand your resignation!

My ducks! My ducks! You spilled my ducks!

My duck. My feet! My goose!

Chop suey!

There you are, Mr. Vouvray.

I thought I'd find you in the kitchen.

My friend, it is of no use.

No, no, no. My goose, she is cooked.

Well, that's not unusual in a cookery contest.

No, you do not understand. I don't mean cooked, cooked.

I mean cooked, gone.

They stole my goose.

But, Antoine, he's never ruined, no.

Because I have another hole up my sleeve.

Antoine will have his revenge, monsieur. Ah, yes. Ah, yes.

Well, Tattoo, it seems what is sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander.

Huh?

Morning.

Morning, Jim.

I had a visit from two of the stuntmen this morning.

They wanted me to know that the stuntmen got together

and took a vote last night.

About Billy?

They want me to replace him as stunt coordinator.

He's gonna buck like a bronco, you know that.

Yeah, well, there's one more thing.

They want you to replace him.

Jim!

There is a rumor that you're pulling me off this picture. Well?

Listen, Bill, great stuntmen don't necessarily make great stunt coordinators.

Besides, I'm nine days behind schedule and I can't afford any more delays.

So, let me guess. You asked him to take over, right?

Yeah, that's right.

But you can stay on and work with him, if you like.

I'd sooner be dead.

Sorry about your kid, Pete. It was bound to happen.

Now we can relax. Forget about Rawlings' Folly

and finish this picture.

The stunt will be on, Snuff.

You're kidding.

You're not.

The stunt will be on. We'll do it first thing in the morning.

I'll be in the lead boat.

You and Casey'll be in the second boat.

Get everything ready and I'll see you there.

You're crazy.

You said it was suicide. Now, what in the hell are you trying to prove?

Maybe I'm trying to prove I'm a father.

She looks better, don't you think?

Yeah.

But she still looks green around the quills.

Ah, there you are, my friends.

Don't you know that a contest is about to be decided?

We're both withdrawing, Mr. Roarke.

Withdrawing?

Well, are you convinced that it's the proper thing to do?

What would your customers at the Pleasure Palate think of man

who quits after they pay your entry fee

with their own, hard-earned money, Mr. Lange?

Oh, he's right.

Just because I'm out of the contest doesn't mean you have to be.

Mr. Lange?

We'll try it on one condition.

What is that?

That you keep Patty safe for us.

And we can be entered as a team.

It's a deal.

And now, ladies and gentlemen,

the surprise you've all been waiting for.

Spinach pie a la Antoine de Vouvray.

Boss, that's it. The dirty rat.

He stole Marge's recipe.

Tattoo. Tattoo.

Forget it, boss. The fix is on.

Bravo, Antoine.

A canvas of classic beauty.

You know, I'm satisfied, no matter what comes now.

I've tasted the garden of paradise.

Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention, please?

A last minute announcement.

Our contestants, Mrs. Gibbs and Mr. Lange,

have combined their talents and are now entered as a team.

Good luck. Thank you.

Enjoy. Enjoy, sir.

Spare Ribs a la Joe and Marge.

You must be joking.

This looks like the leftovers from a cannibal tribe's leftovers.

In any way, I've already had several full meals...

Perhaps you should try a small taste.

You wouldn't want to embarrass them in front of all these people.

They are, after all, the final contestants so, uh...

Very well, Roarke. My stomach will be on your head.

We did it! We did it!

Ladies and gentlemen, there hardly is any dissent.

The winner of the Fantasy Island Grand Cuisine and Cookery Contest

is the team of Mrs. Gibbs and Mr. Lange.

They stole my goose!

Antoine claims foul!

Foul? Yes!

You've got a lot of nerve after what you did!

I?

What you do not understand, monsieur,

is if I could have won, it would have meant everything to Antoine!

If I could have won, I could have saved my restaurant!

Antoine's papa was the founder of the restaurant.

And so, what neither of you...

So, you think that's fancy?

Oh, you would not dare. You would not dare...

Mr. Roarke, I'd like to know what's going on here.

Mr. Rawlings,

I assure you I had nothing to do with your losing your job.

As for your stunt...

I put a lot of time into that stunt.

I have visualized every millisecond

of how I'm gonna do that stunt a thousand times.

I know everything that'll happen.

I know everything that can go wrong.

And I'm telling you, he can't do it, Mr. Roarke. He'll get killed.

Well, why are you telling me?

Why don't you tell your father?

Are you kidding? He wouldn't listen to me.

The same way you wouldn't listen to what he was trying to tell you

five years ago, huh?

What? What are you talking about?

Isn't it possible that you have misunderstood

your father's motives all along?

No, no. please, please. Let me finish, let me finish.

That maybe, as far as he was concerned,

there never was any competition between the two of you.

That he was trying the only way he knew how

to do what every loving father tries to do.

To give his son the benefit of his experience.

To teach him his limitations. Yes, Mr. Rawlings.

To help him mold his future.

Your father believes that if you try your stunt,

you won't have any future.

Well, if he thinks that it'd kill me,

what makes him think he can live through it?

Perhaps he doesn't.

But maybe he feels it's the only way to make you understand.

To make you stop competing with his legend.

Well, that's crazy.

Why?

I think the word is love.

This is too close. We're gonna have to take it back.

Pete, this is suicidal.

Talk Jim Heston into dropping this stunt, or at least modifying it.

It's too late, Dorma.

Now, it's something I've got to do.

Pete, please.

Pete, I don't want you to do this stunt.

It's too dangerous

and now that I've had a chance to analyze it,

I don't think it can be done.

And I don't think I understand.

Well, uh,

let's just say that I understand now

what you've been trying to show me all these years.

Oh!

What do you say? Can I tell Jim the stunt's off?

No.

No, I never signed up for a stunt I didn't try, Son.

But, now that we have a chance to be honest with each other,

I gotta agree with you. I don't think I could do it, either.

I think we'll both agree that this gag is suicide for one man.

But I'd think about two.

One drives, the other sets off the charges

and activates the fire extinguishers when we hit the water.

It can be done!

It is still too dangerous!

No, Mom, we can do it.

We really can, honey.

Besides, we never signed on for a stunt we didn't try.

Give us a go-ahead when you're ready, Pete.

You got it, Snuff.

Good luck, partner.

Okay, roll the cameras. Got speed?

Pete, Bill, it's all yours.

Let's go for it, Son.

Bill, can you handle it?

Cut. Terrific!

Snuff, get that backup boat in there right away.

Pete.

You all right?

Yeah. You all right, son?

Oh, yeah. Dad, we did it.

We're the best! We're number one!

Well, I hope your stay was a pleasant one.

Oh, it certainly was, Mr. Roarke.

Yes, yes. Two fantasies for the price of one.

Two fantasies?

Yeah, I've always wanted to participate in one of those pie-throwing fights.

Me, too.

Oh, and I would say that Patty's health seems much improved.

Yes. And I'm keeping her on a strict no junk food diet.

If you ever get up to Trenton, New Jersey, will you look us up?

We will, we will.

Well, have a pleasant journey.

Goodbye. Goodbye.

Bye-bye.

Goodbye.

Hello.

What a pleasant sight it is to see you all reunited.

You know, it feels good, too,

now that Dad and I have bridged the communication gap.

Mr. Rawlings, what are you going to do?

Are you going to go back to stunt work?

No. I don't think so, Tattoo.

Matter of fact, Bill and I are talking about opening up a stunt school.

I can see it all now. "Rawlings and Son."

I don't know. Maybe "Rawlings and Father." Huh?

Come on, you.

Thank you so much, Mr. Roarke.

You're very welcome, Mrs. Rawlings.

Thank you. Mr. Rawlings.

Goodbye. Goodbye, Mr. Rawlings.

Boss, you know what? You're really the greatest.

Really, Tattoo?

Uh-huh.

In what way?

In every way, boss. You make so many people so happy.

Well, that's the business I'm in.

But you do it so well.

Well.

Uh-oh.

What's wrong?

Nothing that I cannot fix. Wait.

Thank you.

All right, boss.

Put your foot there.

Tattoo, I'm getting suspicious again.

Boss, stand still.

I'm gonna make your shoes look like they were new.

All right, Tattoo, this is it.

I insist that you explain why you are still attempting to kill me with kindness.

You pinned a boutonniere on me, brought my slippers,

tried to light my pipe, which I no longer smoke,

feather dusted me, shined my shoes and I don't know at all why.

Why? Why?

Boss, don't you get it?

No, I most certainly do not get it.

Well, it's because of this newspaper article.

The ad you put in it.

Read it.

"Wanted. Assistant manager."

Tattoo? Yes, boss?

Tattoo, did you think... Oh, now, now. That's impossible.

That's all right, boss. Say it. I can take it.

Tattoo, are you under the impression that I was planning to...

Fire me? That's what you wanted to do?

Now, listen to me, Tattoo, now listen.

It is true that I placed an ad for an assistant manager.

Now, that's true. But it was for the hotel.

Hotel? Yes.

You mean you're not gonna fire me?

The day I fire you, my dear Tattoo,

will be the day that birds no longer fly.

Oh boss, thank you so much.

Fly. Hey, come on.

Get away from here. Fly.