Original subtitles

Let's go.

Help!

You like to swim, eh?

I slipped. Don't do it again,

if you know what's good for you.

Keep it nice and low, Monsieur Couteau.

But I don't get it.

He's letting 'em take him to Devil's Island.

Yeah. So far, so good.

But why would he want to spend 20 years in hell?

Probably just a whim.

"Emile Croulac."

Emile Croulac. To the road gang.

Now then, look alive.

"Henri Couteau."

Henri Couteau.

To the-

To the commandant?

What would the commandant want with vermin like you?

To join him for a cup of mint tea

or watercress sandwich, I suppose.

And make my usual undercover report

about the inefficiency of prison personnel.

Alors, I myself

will conduct you to the commandant.

That's more like it.

Look alive.

How do you do, commandant?

It's a nice place you have here.

Take it off.

Get into that.

Thank you. It's, uh-

It's a definite improvement.

Odd. I thought you'd look older, Monsieur Couteau.

I'm sorry to disappoint you. Maybe in time.

Ah, yes.

Time.

We, um- We have a great quantity of that around here.

Oh, forgive my lapse of manners.

Th- That is Cochon,

my social director.

And I am Gustave Mauvais,

commandant of our little retreat.

Our clients usually arrive at our recreational center

for, oh, various reasons.

Murder most foul, for instance.

And of course, there's arson.

Embezzlement, if it's on a grand enough scale.

But yours, monsieur,

your offense, monsieur,

was indeed a monstrous fall from grace.

Oh, it, uh, wasn't as bad as all that.

You, uh- You think not, huh?

Devil's Island',

"beginning a sensational exposé

by that celebrated journalist, Henri Couteau."

You went so far as to argue that the colony be abolished,

and to propose a national trial

for that arch villain, Gustave Mauvais.

It seemed like a pretty good idea at the time, Mauvais.

Instead of which you found yourself on trial

for impugning the honor of your nation.

The verdict was, um, never in doubt.

Well, I could plead youthful high spirits.

May I see the rest of that-

Aghh! Egh!

Never reach out your filthy hand to me.

Understand?

I'm beginning to.

Cochon.

I hope I'm not interrupting, Gustave.

Oh, nonsense, my dear.

Come in and have a better look at the young man.

What- What young man?

I just stopped by to ask for your opinion.

My gown for the reception:

Uh, the gold brocade or the beaded one?

Well, they're both very lovely, my dear.

Whichever you pref-

Fine-featured, hard-muscled,

and that engaging tousled hair

just made to run your fingers through, huh?

I don't know what you're talking about.

Oh, forgive me, my dear Camille.

May I present our latest guest, Monsieur Couteau.

My, um- My devoted wife.

I certainly didn't mean to-

To interrupt.

For you, monsieur,

my wife's entrance was a most fortunate reprieve.

Let me illustrate how close you were

to a violent death.

Cochon,

the bench.

Impressive, is it not, monsieur?

You see, when Cochon was a young man,

he was unfortunate enough

to lose his right leg in a train accident.

Don't tell me.

When it came time for him to choose an artificial limb,

he chose one made of iron.

Precisely.

One, um...

One final word, monsieur.

You saw what happened to the bench.

The time will come when I shall say,

"Cochon,

Monsieur Couteau."

And then Cochon's foot of doom

will come whistling your way.

But, uh- But that time is not yet.

No.

In the meantime, we must make sure that, uh-

That you enjoy our island facilities

to the fullest.

The fresh air, pleasant sun,

and all those joyful little tasks

waiting to be performed.

Until then,

monsieur.

Take it off.

Here we go again.

I'm looking for a prisoner named Reed.

Get out of here, mon.

Hey, you know a prisoner named Reed?

Thanks, mate.

Some of these blokes

got a bloody lot to learn about manners.

So I noticed.

If I can ever return the favor,

just give me the nod.

You might be able to.

Ever hear of a prisoner named Reed?

Don't recall the name.

Formal handles get lost in this hole.

Here.

Hold everything.

I recall now.

He got hauled off to the pit.

What's that?

Halfway house to hell, that's what.

Yeah. Dropped out of sight about two weeks ago.

Anyone buried in the pit that long...

"Kindly omit flowers," as they say.

Really, Monsieur Couteau.

I'm afraid you're rather an unsettling influence

on our other guests.

I respectfully submit that you order this-

This man to step aside.

Request denied.

You realize, of course,

that the men pushing that roller

are traveling blind.

Quite.

Perhaps that is why,

in spite of all our precautions,

accidents continue to happen.

Now you order the men to stop that roller

before I soil you for good with my dirty little hands.

Cochon! Stop it!

Agh! Agh! Aghh!

Well, Monsieur Couteau,

you had us all dancing to your tune.

Now let's see about paying the piper.

I think 20 lashes for our gallant young friend

to start with,

then a prolonged stay in the pit.

Have a pleasant stay, Monsieur Couteau.

Vincent Reed, I believe.

Why, yes.

Who are you?

I've been looking for you.

Nature's poultice mud.

Oh, you got some jim-dandy welts here.

Old Cochon himself must have taken a hand in it.

Nothing but the best for me, I always say.

My feelings precisely.

By the way,

you know my name.

What'd you say yours was?

Couteau.

Henri Couteau.

♪ Old master Jip ♪

♪ He liked his nip ♪

♪ Of rum and cowslip brandy ♪

♪ He'd- ♪

How's the rest of that go?

♪ He'd polish off his cup ♪

♪ And then he'd sup ♪

♪ On beets ♪

♪ And licorice candy ♪

That's right, isn't it?

You couldn't be righter.

You're James West?

Oh, good Lord. Heh.

I- I can't tell you. I...

There was no hope for me. I made myself accept it.

Department wasn't gonna let you down,

especially after you kept your cover

all through that rigged trial in France

and Devil's Island.

I wasn't so sure,

as my date with Matilda the guillotine

grew closer and...

Yeah, I'm a lucky fella.

The big day is...

approximately 18 hours from now.

18 hours from now.

Whoo! Whoo! Whoo! Whoo! Whoo!

Waaaagh!

What's that?

Le Fou.

He's been here too long.

Well, in his own way,

he's managed to escape his environment.

I almost envy him.

Don't envy him.

You'll be doing the same thing very shortly.

What do you mean?

How? It'll take some kind of a miracle.

Nowadays, miracles come in the oddest shapes and sizes.

♪ Old master Jip ♪

♪ He liked his nip ♪

♪ Of rum and cowslip brandy ♪

♪ He'd polish off a cup ♪

♪ And then he'd sup ♪

♪ On beets ♪

♪ And licorice candy ♪

On your feet.

Stand at attention.

"And so the bearer of this letter,

"Pierre Gaspard, is hereby assigned to guard duty

"at the prison on Devil's Island

for a term at the discretion of the commandant."

Hmm.

Pierre Gaspard.

That salute is just about what I'd have expected

from one with your service record.

My record?

Is something wrong with my record, commandant?

"Fighting in barracks,

"theft from company funds, drunk on duty,

"malingering,

"insolence to superiors.

"discharged from the Foreign Legion

for the good of the service."

Oh, that is quite an accomplishment,

to be thrown out of the Foreign Legion.

Yes, well-

Well, uh, just a knack, I suppose.

All in all,

this is one of the worst service records I've ever seen.

It's a testimony to your treachery,

cowardice, cruelty

and dishonesty.

You should do well here.

Thank you, commandant.

I know I'll like it here,

very much.

Splendid.

Of course, we can't hope to rival

the metropolitan establishments.

No, no, not at all. Your place is charming,

absolutely charming.

Thank you, Gaspard.

And we do have our little diversions

from time to time.

I hope you noticed Matilda in the square.

Oh, who could overlook something that beautiful?

Well, when do I start?

Oh, there's the rub.

Yeah. There's still the nagging question

of your suitability for guard duty,

but that's easily settled.

You see, um,

I suffer from an embarrassment of riches.

Yes.

There are, uh,

two other applicants for the same job.

Oh.

Both of them, like yourself, with sterling characters

and the kind of impressive records

that our organization absolutely demands.

However, we have an amusing way

of settling these little contretemps.

The solution?

The Chamber of Togetherness.

The other two gentlemen are already inside waiting.

You will enter, the door will be bolted shut,

and, um,

after an appropriate period of meditation,

one of you will emerge.

That one gets the job.

Agreed?

It seems eminently fair to me.

Splendid.

Hi, fellas.

First we get rid of that one, agreed?

Agreed.

Oh, now gentlemen, gentlemen.

Look,

why don't we all just sit down calmly,

discuss our differences like sane, reasonable people

who are prepared to face their differences

without resorting to anything like physical violence?

This poor Gaspard.

Yes.

It's a pity in a way.

On the other hand,

I never really quite trusted him in spite of his record.

I seem to detect some lingering shred of decency.

Ah, then you were saying, commandant?

Welcome home, Gaspard.

♪ Old master Jip He liked his nip ♪

♪ Of rum or cowslip brandy ♪

♪ He'd polish off a cup ♪

♪ And then he'd sup ♪

♪ On beets ♪

♪ And licorice randy ♪

That was- That was-

Oh. Wait a minute. Wait a minute.

Hey.

You down there.

On your feet and snap into a salute.

I have seen filthy pits in my time,

but this pit-

Pound for pound and smell for smell,

this is the filthiest

and least fragrant hole in the lot.

Of all the places I've seen.

Now, listen.

By tomorrow morning,

I expect to see it not merely spick,

but span.

Idiot.

What's the matter,

don't you like hard-boiled eggs?

Interesting.

What is?

Well, the kind of punishment the authorities give out here.

A man tries to escape,

and ends up in milady's boudoir.

You've got it all wrong, Monsieur Couteau.

You're not being punished for trying to escape.

I've been trying to escape for years.

Ah, I'm beginning to see daylight.

Then the exciting episode of the guards

foiling my attempt to escape was, uh, staged,

shall we say?

Of course.

Your escape merely saved them the trouble

of releasing you and bringing you here.

Fantastic.

Not really.

I've never found it too difficult

to win men's loyalty.

Somehow I believe you.

Join forces with me.

We'll escape together.

Nothing personal, madame, but-

Oh, please,

call me Camille.

As I was saying,

when it comes to breaking out of dungeons, Camille,

I prefer to work alone.

Well, you're strong,

probably brave too,

but you can't escape alone.

Too many have tried and failed.

I can arrange for a boat, maps,

money to buy provisions.

Everything, it would seem, except your husband's blessing.

But be assured, my dear, your-

Your spirited appeal moves me deeply.

Uh, let me guess.

You resent another man in your wife's, uh, boudoir.

It would be useless to deny it.

You see, periodically, I allow my loving wife

the, uh-

The indulgence to think

that she's about to make her escape.

You're not the first young stalwart

she's tried to enlist in her campaign.

Gustave, let me go, please.

You've got a whole island full of people you can torture.

You don't need me.

Fire ants.

Precisely.

So named because their bite calls to mind pincers,

heated red-hot in a fire.

I'll let you know if your description's accurate.

Most kind of you.

This is the regular route

the little beasties take at break of day.

Should anything happen to be in their path...

Like an object like me.

Precisely.

As in the case of, uh, Hercule, here,

another of my wife's would-be rescuers.

Oh, I- I assure you, monsieur,

it will be a most memorable way to die.

Good evening, sir.

Good evening.

May I show you something?

Uh, yes, I was wondering if you had anything

like a music box or something similar,

suitable as a gift for a young lady.

Oh, I'm sorry, sir.

The only musical mechanisms we have are in watches.

Oh, well, I'd have no need for that.

You see, I already have one of those.

What a fascinating watch. Heh.

May I see it? Of course.

Are you, uh,

interested in watches?

Oh, yes.

I too, am a collector.

Fancy this for a coincidence.

My watch plays the very same tune.

What about the boat?

All set, Mr. Gordon.

It's waiting in this cove,

stocked with provisions, maps, instruments,

as per your department's list of desiderata.

Oh, as a matter of fact,

I think it would be much too expensive.

You see, uh,

I'd have difficulty in shipping it as well.

It's your Mr. West.

I think you'd best attend to him very quickly indeed.

That was playing it close, Artie.

Those ants were just about to give me a working over.

Listen, I'm sure it's a fascinating story, Mr. West,

but there's still the matter of getting Reed

out of the pokey before Cochon comes to.

Can you walk?

Not very well. Let's try running.

Right.

So far so good.

Have a little bit more of a prisoner shuffle in your walk,

will you, James?

That's better.

Halt.

Keep an eye peeled for trouble.

All right, you down there, look alive.

What is it?

Commandant wants to talk with you.

When he's through with you...

Exactly what is it that I want to say

to Mr. Reed?

Gentlemen, did you ever get the feeling

things were closing in on you?

Good morning, Mr. West.

Did I get that right?

Yes, sir, James West.

And this one is Artemus Gordon.

As I told you, all three are members

of the United States Secret Service.

Thank you, Le Fou.

Le Fou.

Can that be our Le Fou

that we became so fond of in our little pit?

So it is,

but, uh, rather than strain your credulity...

Whoo! Whoo! Whoo! Whoo! Whoo! Whoooo!

Whaaagh!

That's our Le Fou, all right.

Cleaned up very nicely, didn't he?

Yes, and, uh, now that we've settled that question,

may I remind you, Mr. West,

of a promise I once made you.

Perhaps you recall.

Something about Cochon's foot of doom

or some such melodramatic nonsense, wasn't it?

You have an excellent memory, Mr. West.

This way, please.

Now, Mr. West,

you have a pair of fleet legs,

and, I suspect, an equally agile mind.

It will be interesting to see

how long they can delay the inevitable.

At my command, Cochon.

Now.

Bravo, Mr. West.

I'm beginning to think you may last a little bit after all.

I'll try not to disappoint you.

Artie, fire when ready.

Fire!

Come on. Over here!

Mr. West. This way, quickly.

Come on, you first.

Hey, wait. I'm going too.

Like that?

Oh, that's better. Much better.

You, um- You haven't told me, Cochon.

Did you have much trouble

persuading our friend Mrs. Grimes to talk?

Hmm?

Ah, isn't that sweet?

I wish I'd been there.

However, Mr. West and his party

should be here soon.

Ah,

just as I thought.

No, no.

No, Cochon.

This is my treat.

Aagh, aagh! Cochon, quick!

Quick, Cochon.

Cochon, help!

Help, help!

Help! Cochon!

James, my boy,

you'll never guess who we have approaching

from outside at this very minute.

Give me a clue, Artie:

Animal, vegetable, or mineral?

Well, think of silks, satins, laces,

uh, tassels, blond hair.

Oh, that could be almost anyone.

How about a feather boa?

Camille.

Right. Wait here.

Enter. Oh.

Jim.

Oh. Mwah.

I want you and Artemus to be the first to congratulate me.

Oh, don't tell me you're getting married.

No. Engaged.

Oh, that's wonderful.

When do we get to meet the lucky fellow?

Oh.

Hubert?

Oh.

Jim, Artemus,

I want you to meet the one man

that I've always waited for,

Hubert Crandy.

I'm- I'm glad to meet you, gentlemen.

Delighted.

Absolutely delighted.

Delighted.

At least this one doesn't mind shaking hands.