All language subtitles for committed.2011.720p.hdtv.x264-regret

[♪]

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[Answering machine]:
Hello. It's Anne Marie.

When you hear the beep,
leave me your bona fides.

[Beep]

Anne Marie, it's Celeste.

I am doing it, girl.

I have taken the position
at millburn

and getting out of New York.

I wanted to thank you again
for everything you did.

You were a rock.

I can't imagine how
I would've got through it all...

Anyway,
I will talk to you soon,

but maybe not too soon,

because I think a little time
in the country will do me good.

[♪]

Dr. Williamson?
It's Dr. Celeste dupont.

I know that we've already
been over the patient profiles,

and I really appreciate
your Patience with me,

it's just... I worry
about Joey and Melissa...

The two p.D.D. Kids.

It's hard to leave them behind,
but it's for the best right now.

Please call
if anything comes up.

Thanks.

[♪]

[♪]

Hello?

It's Dr. Dupont.

Hello?

Hello, Dr. Dupont!

My name is Jones.

I can drive from here.

Oh, no. That's all right.

I'm afraid
it's the rules.

Oh. All right.

That's some weather coming.

Yes. You've arrived
during the stormy season.

They blow in
from the ocean,

always head for US.

Thank you.

Hello there.

You must be Dr. Dupont.

I'm miss donneymede,

director of staffing
and admissions

here at millburn.

It is nice to meet you,
miss donneymede.

Pleased to be here.

Well, we're happy
to have you.

Dr. Quilley has been
waiting for you.

What a beautiful
old place.

We call it home.

Now, did you want to...

Go to your room
and have a lie-down

or change or...?

I am anxious
to meet Dr. Quilley.

Very well, then.

I know the feeling
is mutual.

[Knocking at door]

Magnus?

Dr. Dupont.

Dr. Dupont.
A great pleasure.

For me too,
Dr. Quilley.

Take your coat?

Yes. Thank you.

Found US all right?

We're rather
out of the way here.

No trouble at all.

Seat?

You are so beautiful.

I expected
somewhat of a...

Of a what?

A plain Jane.

[Laughs]: I don't know
what I expected.

You are precisely
as I imagined you.

Really?

Your books have been
such an inspiration to me.

I've recently
lost faith

in my ability
to help people.

Let me express
my deep condolences

for your recent
tragedy.

To lose a fiance...
I can't imagine.

How are you
coping with it?

Uh, it hasn't
been easy...

But I've been throwing
myself into my work.

I understand you were
getting married this month.

When you mentioned
in your letter

that a position
was available,

it seemed like
the perfect opportunity.

Credentials made it
an easy choice for US.

I have several guests
I'd like you to meet.

I love that you call
the patients "guests."

It's more dignified.

They're, uh... of an
interesting variety.

Black coffee. Thanks.

[Electricity crackles]

[Sighs]

We're, uh...
Rather remote,

and there's a power issue,
as you can see...

Thanks for warning me.

You might have noticed,

we're in a corridor

where cell phone reception
is poor, at best.

Yes. My GPS and my BlackBerry
both went out.

There's a land-line
on my desk.

[Door creaks shut]
And Internet?

Mm.

My friends won't expect
to hear much from me,

but I will need to make
an occasional call.

You know
our philosophy, of course?

"You are
who you think you are."

And the guests take on the jobs
and identities they wish.

Here, you can be
a philosopher

or a gardener,

a king or a cook,

whatever
the guest chooses.

It gives them
a... a comfort level,

a sense of direction.

[Ring]

[Sets bell down]

But you care for them?

Of course.

Now... are you ready
to commit yourself?

Yes. Completely.

Good.

At dinner, you'll meet
some of the staff.

Just sign right there.

You don't have

any, uh... food
allergies or anything?

No. Thanks.

Let's go and meet
some of the guests.

Isadora, I'd like you to meet

a distinguished
colleague of mine,

Dr. Celeste dupont.

Celeste will be with US
for a while.

Isadora, it is a pleasure
to meet you.

Oh, a pleasure
to meet you, doctor.

Isadora is america's
poet laureate.

Translated into
dozens of languages.

She is currently
preparing a reading

here at millburn.

I love
the smaller venues,

so much more intimate,

where one can
really connect

with one's audience.

Well, poetry
is a wonderful gift, Isadora...

To translate
the complex human emotions

through the simple tools
of words...

How beautifully put,
doctor.

The "simple tools
of words."

I hope you won't mind
if I steal that?

[Others chuckling]

Not at all.

I find millburn such
a fertile place to write.

Here, well, one finds...

Perspective.

A sanctuary.

Exactly!

Well, I look forward
to our future conversations.

Oh, as do I.
As do I.

Celeste,

let me present
congressman Lionel Roberts.

He's the president's
personal advisor

on foreign affairs.

Well, hello,
congressman.

And how are things
in Washington?

Oh, you know, it's always
two steps forward, one back.

The responsibility is huge.

Oh, I can't imagine the stress,

but I guess someone
has to do it.

Yes. Yes, that's it exactly.

Someone has to do it.

Well, we are in good hands.

This young man is, uh,
Herbert willowby.

He's, uh, a fine actor
and dancer.

Hello, Herbert.
It's nice to meet you.

Pleased to meet you.

Will you excuse US?

So... Shirley temple?

That's my stage name.

Oh, I love
the little Princess.

That's my favorite!

And we think that
your father's dead in the war,

and you're a servant
in the orphanage,

and then he comes back...

Oh, yes!

And queen Victoria.
I loved her.

She was just like
the real one.

Oh, my god, wasn't she?

Oh, I look forward
to movie night.

Hi. I'm the one

you've been
wanting to meet.

I'm Bobby gow.

Well, hi, Bobby.
And how are you doing?

I'm good.

You have
gorgeous hands.

So soft skin.

And I'll bet
your panties

are black silk.

French. Am I right?

I am right, aren't I?

Cut nice and low...
With a little bow,

about four inches
below your belly-button,

right where it starts
to get very interesting.

You haven't really had
a lot of luck with women,

have you, Bobby?

Um...

[Quilley]: Are you
behaving yourself, Bobby?

Yes, sir.

Let's get you settled in
before dinner.

We painted your room
a few days ago,

but the fumes
should be gone by now.

I keep meaning
to number these...

So many of them.

It's on my to-do list.

Ah, this is the right one.

[Keys jangling]

Here we are.

Oh, it's so nice.

Here... are your meal times

and laundry schedule
and Dr. Quilley's rounds.

Great.

[Thunder rumbles]

You've come
in the stormy season.

They blow in
from the sea.

So I've heard.

Oh, do not forget your keys.

[Sighs]: I'd forget my head.

You know about
our electricity challenges,

so keep this handy.

And... another thing,

we have a guest residing
down and across the hall,

in the lock-up.

Evan Franklin.

Dr. Quilley will tell you
more about him.

[Sighs]

He witnessed the murder
of his entire family.

He's violently aggressive,
quite hopelessly insane.

Even Dr. Quilley's
all but given up on him.

Occasionally,
on stormy nights, Evan...

Carries on a bit.

But don't worry.
His door is quite secure.

Um, so is this part of
Dr. Quilley's technique?

Keeping the guests
and the doctors

in the same wing?

I don't remember
reading about that.

No, there are no doctors
in this wing.

Well, then, why am I here?

You're a guest, my dear.

No. I am a doctor.

I know you're a doctor, pet...

But you're also a guest.

Is this your idea of
some sort of a joke?

I'm afraid not.

Dr. Quilley.
Miss donneymede

seems to think
that I'm a patient here.

A guest.

Yes, no, I know
what you call them,

but could you please
clear this up?

I would like a room
with the other doctors.

Why don't we find some time
in the morning

to talk about this?

No, I would like

to clear this up now.

Plenty of time
to sort it out.

But what is to sort out?

I just want a proper room.

Celeste, you're a guest.

No. I'm a doctor.

I came here
to work with you.

Yes.

Of course.

And I'm sure you'll find
the work fulfilling...

But you can't leave.

I would like my car, please.

Now.

I'm afraid
we can't have our guests

driving around
all over the countryside.

I am calling the pol...

[♪]

What is going on here?

I know this may be...
Hard to comprehend, but...

You are committed.

And you'll stay with US
until you're well.

This is crazy.

I am leaving.

[Jones]: Dr. Dupont?

Dr. Dupont!

Dr. Dupont!

Dr. Dupont!

Please, stop!

Stop! Do not
touch the fence! Doctor!

Stop! Don't!

[Grunting]

[Zapping, she screams]

[Celeste breathing rapidly]

[Clock ticking, chiming]

[Distorted, crying out]:
I am a doctor!

I am a doctor!

[Clock ticking,
sounds distorting]

[Bell ringing]

Celeste?

Celeste?

Dr. Quilley?

Hello, doctor.

You slept all night
and all day.

[Grunts]

Why would you put me in a cage?

In a cage?

A steel cage.

I heard you ringing your bell,
and...

I heard voices...
And chimes...

You've been through a lot.

Don't patronize me.

This is all
a huge mistake.

I-I want to call my lawyer,
and he will vouch for my sanity.

Celeste...

Listen to me.

There is no cage.

And no bells, no voices.

You've had
a traumatic experience

in the death
of your fiance.

Now, you've had
a nervous breakdown.

In a lucid moment,
you called US for help,

and that was a good decision.

We can help.

But you have to trust US.

Do you remember

any of the events
around Paul's death?

No.

You see?

You have to work through
these traumatic memories

that you've hidden
from yourself.

Now, in the meantime,

you're a doctor,

and a good one.

You can help US
with the other patients,

just as you want to.

It'll help ground you
while you uncover the past,

perhaps end
these delusions

and help you
get healthy again.

When that happens, well...

Of course you can leave.

Or stay,
for that matter.

Now...

I think
that's quite reasonable.

Don't you?

I'll see you at dinner.

[Dialing]

["No service" beeping]

Come on.

["No service" beeping]

[♪]

There you are!

Just in time
for dinner.

This way.

The cross-country
skiing trip

has been canceled.

[Jovial laughter]

Oh! Friends and colleagues,

let me formally introduce
our newest staff member,

Dr. Celeste dupont.

This is Dr. Fraser-Wilson.

How do you do?

And, uh,
Dr. Herman bessemer.

It's a great
pleasure.

And Dr. Esther bloom.

Hello, Celeste.

And, of course,
Dr. Desmond Moore,

who you bumped into
in my office yesterday,

also a recent arrival
here at millburn.

How do you do?

Good. Thank you.

May I suggest
we raise our glasses

in a toast
to our newest staff member?

To Dr. Dupont.

Welcome.

[♪]

The prime purpose
of the institute

is to keep the patients
comfortable and content.

If that is all we do,
we are frauds.

But most of
our patients,

guests,

don't want to go back
to society.

Their only desire
is to be what they are,

or what they believe themselves
to be.

My duty to my patients
is to cure them

and get them
back into society,

not maintain them
in a state of derangement.

Let's consider the consequences
of your, uh, good intentions.

You know why the guests
are here at millburn?

They are embarrassments.

Yes.

Their families pay large fees

so they can be stored away
and forgotten.

And you want to
send them home?

Well, will they be met
with love and compassion?

If there was love
and compassion,

they wouldn't be sent
to millburn in the first place.

Now, do you want to
send your patients

into an atmosphere
like that?

Yes.

If my patients are cured,

let them contend
with that atmosphere.

I suggest that your motives

have less to do
with the patient

and more to do
with the doctor.

The issue is not my ego.

A doctor's duty is to cure.

Then cure away, my friend.

Have I ever stood
in your way?

What do you think,

Dr. Dupont?

Should our
ultimate goal

be a cure?

Of course.

But, the question is,

how is it
to be determined

when a patient
is cured?

And, when the time comes,

who decides
if the patient is ready to go?

[♪]

[Rattles window,
lock holds fast]

[Rattles window,
lock holds fast]

[Thunder crashing]

[Man wailing and sobbing
down hall]

[Sighing]

[Man's crying continues]

Hello, Evan?

My name is Dr. Dupont...

And I know that it's scary,

but the storm
will pass soon.

[Evan has fallen silent]

I heard that
you lost people you loved.

[Wailing sadly]

And I lost someone too.

[Sighs]

It's hard.

It's like having a bad dream
that you can't wake up from.

[Sobbing]

[Thunder rumbles]

You keep that, Evan.

Don't be scared.

I'm close by.

You know, Celeste,
it's not a sin.

20% of the world's
population

has some sort of
psychosis

at some point
in their lives.

But what evidence
do you have

that I have a psychosis?

Loss of memory.

Hallucinations.

Maybe it was just
a vivid dream.

I see.
A vivid dream now.

Not reality?

I mean, that's
a wonderful first step.

You realize
you've come through

a period of
substantial trauma.

Look, Dr. Quilley...

[Exhales]

Look. I just want to get
back to New York.

Okay? I'm not going
to hurt myself

or anyone else.

But you chose
to come here.

You have to trust US
and cooperate.

Even with your
professional expertise,

it's difficult
to remain objective.

I respectfully disagree.

There is nothing wrong
with my mind!

Try and stay calm.
We have an agreement.

We all want
what's best for you.

And what is best for me

is for you to give me
my damn car keys

and let me get the hell
out of here!

I'm sorry, Celeste.

We'll have to continue this
when you're less upset.

Trust... and cooperate.

Excuse me. I have to
see another guest.

[Sighs]

[♪]

Ahem.

[♪]

Hi there.

I'm a doctor.

Could you
give me a lift

to the next town, please?

Sorry. No.

Look, there's been
a huge mistake.

They're keeping me here
against my will,

but I am not crazy.

Please, you've got

to help me.

Please, please, please,
if you can drive...

Come on, come on,
just get up!

[Leans on horn]

Get out!

Okay! Okay.

[Starter chugging,
failing to ignite]

Come on!

No! Get off me!

[Struggling loudly]

No! Stop it!

Stop it! Let me go!

[Squeals briefly, falls silent]

[♪]

[Sound distorting]

[Crying out, echoing]:
Dr. Quilley!

Dr. Quilley!

Are you there?

[Bell ringing]

Stop it!

[Grunting, sobbing]

Dr. Quilley!

Stop it!

[♪]

[Gasping]

[Breath slowing]

Hello.

[Gasps]

That was quite
an escape attempt.

You scared the driver
half to death.

[Exhales shakily]

Dr. Quilley, in his wisdom,
has assigned you to me.

I hope you have no objections.

I am not a patient.

As old quilley pointed out,

I have a bit of
a savior complex.

I like making people well.

Well, there are plenty of
opportunities here for you.

You know, I realize
that this is a catch-22.

You know,
until I say that I'm crazy,

I can't get well.

Well, there is that...

But you did sign
the commitment papers.

I thought
that it was a contract.

I just didn't read it properly.

I've been briefed
about your case.

There was a traumatic incident,
the death of your fiance.

You remember nothing?

[Exhales shakily]: No.

Well, I think that's key

in making sure
you get healthy again.

I suggest you settle in,

carry on in your
capacity as doctor...

And, um, let me help you
sort things out.

You'll help me get out of here?

I will do my best.

[Quietly]: Thank you.

Good.

This has been a good start.

[♪]

[Sighs wearily]

[♪]

Oh, no...

[♪]

Oh, my god.

Oh, my goodness.

What is it?

Now, why would
you do that?

I did not do this!
I was having a bath.

And a patient must have...

You know, or Mr. Jones...

'Cause he wants you
to think that I'm crazy,

or to make me think
that I'm crazy.

We can
check for fingerprints.

They'd be yours.

Look, I can't believe
that you think that I did this.

I didn't do this!

You know, sometimes,

when a person subconsciously
knows they have misbehaved,

like trying to escape,

they can punish
themselves.

That is ridiculous!

Why would I do this
to punish myself?

I'll find her some clothes.

These'll do for now.

Where did they come from?

The storage closet.

They fit perfectly.

[Footsteps approaching]

Dr. Dupont.

[Chair scrapes floor]

Hello, Celeste.

Hi.

Oh, not again.

That suit
looks good on you...

From what I could see
before we lost the light.

So you all know what was done
to my clothing?

Yes. Dr. Quilley told US.

I was accused
of doing it myself.

[Electricity crackling]

Ah! Heh. There we go.

Celeste, you don't think

you slashed the clothing
yourself?

Of course I didn't.

Someone came into my room

and maybe you know
something about it.

Are you suggesting
I had someone do it?

Maybe it was
a patient.

My first thought
was punishment.

She's punishing herself.

[Quilley]: I don't see
punishment here...

Rather, a...

Calculated destruction.

Is there a clue in there?

Destruction
of the clothes

is a desire to be naked.

And what is
to be naked?

To return
to the womb...

To go so far back

as not yet
to be born.

To be not born is...
Not to be.

I did not slash my clothing.

Dr. Moore, can you understand
what I'm suggesting?

I understand it,
but I can't yet accept it.

Will you concur

that there is a parallel

between committing oneself

to millburn

and the desire
to discard the "old"

and Don the "new"?

Destroying the old clothing
is to be done with the old self?

It's possible,
but unproven.

I see no evidence
to suggest

that Dr. Dupont
slashed the clothing.

How are we to interpret

the manner in which
the clothing was destroyed?

Just gotten rid of?

The tearing, the ripping,
the violence?

A deep hatred

of the old self.

[Quilley]:
So is there a link...

Oh, for god's sake.

Between this act

and the death
of Dr. Dupont's fiance,

Dr. Paul Bernard?

You know, I am not
going to sit here

and have myself dissected.

I did not slash that clothing,

and I suggest that
you figure out who did it,

and then insult them
with your theories.

[Evan wailing and sobbing]

Evan?

Evan, it's me.

You all right?

Of course
you're not all right.

At least I have
the freedom to walk around.

I'm just gonna...
I'm gonna open this, okay?

So we can talk easier.

You there?

Well, if you need anything...

[Shrieks]

Evan! No!

Help! Help!

Oh, help! Help!

[Struggle continues]

[Grunting and straining]

[Gasping for breath]

Are you all right?

[Moore]: You know,

you can't let
your guard down.

Some of these
patients

are potentially
very violent,

as you can see.

Oh, I was going to
ask you something.

Would you like

to come in as a consultant
on some of my cases

tomorrow?

Yes.

I'd like that very much.

Okay. Good.

My office by 9:00.

[Door opens, shuts]

You see,
few women know this,

and even fewer men,

but what all women want
is to be handled rough.

They all want to be treated
like whores.

Well, right
there, Bobby,

we have a fundamental
delusion to deal with.

Oh, come on, Dr. Dupont.

If you were honest
with yourself,

you'd admit it.

'Course, we could try
a little experiment,

me and you.

Let me prove my point,
so to speak.

Bobby.

Be respectful.

She won't admit it,

but we understand each other,
don't we?

All women want
to be punished.

Every woman
at millburn.

And I would
punish them, too...

If it weren't for Jones.

Mr. Jones?

What do you mean?

No, he's...

Not a very nice person,
Mr. Jones.

He likes to hurt people.

Why do you think Mr. Jones
would want to hurt you?

Because Mr. Jones wants to
punish all the women himself.

You've met Isadora snow?

Yes.

She prefers our sessions
up in her room.

Her poetry has been
a lifeline for her.

A lifeline?

Mm, yes.

You see, Isadora
killed her own baby,

smothered it.

We're not sure
how or why.

We're working on that.

She hid the body

and then began
kidnapping other infants,

three in fact,
before she was caught.

Were the babies
all right?

No.

[♪]

[Knock on door]

Right.

Celeste!
Oh, come in, come in.

How lovely
to see you again. Mm!

Likewise.

Yes. Oh, I see.

You're working
with Desmond.

Lucky girl!

You make quite
a cute couple.

Please, sit down,
sit down.

How are you
feeling, Isadora?

I'm feeling...

Well, I'm feeling
quite frazzled, actually.

Can I offer you tea?

- Please.
- Right.

Well, you see,
my copy editor,

he's driving me crazy
about the new volume.

You see, I'm trying to get ready
for a reading here at millburn.

I have no time,

and I have no idea
what to wear.

Well, perhaps

you could help me
with that, Celeste.

Oh, I'd like that.

Someone extremely famous
is coming here

to hear me read.

Who?

It's a surprise.

Oh.

Well, I would love to start
by hearing one of your poems.

Oh, you want me to...

You-you-you... want me
to read one of my poems now?

Yes, if that's all right.

I couldn't possibly.

Uh, because, um...

Well, because I'm not ready.

[Chuckles awkwardly]

I'm awfully sorry,
but I can't.

No, that's all right.

You know, maybe another time.

Yes, but I'm going to be
totally prepared on the night.

Totally prepared,

and I'm very
excited about it.

Maybe we could talk about

what sort of subjects
you like to write about?

What inspires you?

Oh, yes. Inspiration.

Well, oh... uh...

Birds in flight...

The changing seasons...

And baby carriages.

Baby carriages.

Now, that's interesting.

Can we talk a little bit more
about that?

No.

[Knocking at door]

Dr. Moore?

Sorry to interrupt.

Mr. Gow
is bothering cook again,

and I can't find Mr. Jones.

Excuse me.
I'll be just a minute.

[Chuckling]:
Don't be long.

You know, I understand

that you've just come to poetry
recently,

yet you've already written
enough for a reading?

And you've
accomplished so much.

Well, it was as if a...

A-A-A creative dam burst,
and the words just flowed out.

And was that Dr. Quilley's idea?

Well, no...

But he was very supportive
of the idea.

I owe him a lot.

Well...

Not this Dr. Quilley...

The real Dr. Quilley.

The real Dr. Quilley?

I don't understand.

[♪]

You see...

The Dr. Quilley you've met
is not really Dr. Quilley.

No, we lost him, I'm afraid,

some time ago.

This quilley...

Is an imposter.

And what happened
to the real one?

They killed him

and buried him in the dungeon.

[Knocking at door]

Oh! Shh.

[Handle turns]

There we are.

Mr. Jones is back.

Now, where were we?

The inspiration...
For a poem?

Yes.

I was so curious about
her poetry. Aren't you?

Yes, if only we could
pry some out of her.

Oh, she's so geared up
for the reading.

She said something funny to me,
today, while you were gone,

and apparently it's a secret,

but she thinks
that quilley is an imposter.

Really? What does she suppose
happened to him?

She thinks that he has
been buried in the dungeon.

She's quite convinced.

I-I think about her connection
to the child...

You've been working with me
all day.

Do you think that I'm insane?

Absolutely.

Seriously, Desmond.

You don't think

that I slashed
my clothing, do you?

It is hard to believe.

You've seen me work.
You know that I'm competent.

You definitely
know your stuff.

Look, this has all just
been a horrible mistake.

Help me
to get out of here.

I can't do that, Celeste.

If you keep progressing

as you did today,

maybe in a while,
we can work on a day-pass.

I thought that
you were on my side.

I am, Celeste.

I won't help you escape,
but I will help you get better.

[♪]

[Knocking at door]

Thought you might like some tea,
Dr. Beresford.

What did you call me?

[Sighs]: Oh. Dr. Dupont.

Sorry. My old head!

Who's Dr. Beresford?

Um...

She was the doctor
here before you.

Took a leave of absence.

Good night, then.

Good night. Thank you.

[Footfalls receding]

[Keys jangling]

[Dials]

[Officer]: Police.

Hi there.
This is Dr. Celeste dupont,

and I'm at
the millburn institute,

and I'm being held here
against my will,

but I am perfectly sane.

Uh, I can give you references
in New York.

Please. Please, just send a car?

[Mildly amused]: Right.

I'm sorry...
"Dr. Dupont," was it?

Just try to stay calm

and they'll look
after you there.

They're very
nice people...

No, no, no...
I am telling you the truth.

You go and find
the nurse

and she'll give you
something

to make you
feel better.

No, no! Please! I'm telling you
that I need help.

[Line clicks, dial tone buzzes]

Hello?

No, no...

Ahh... so here you are.

I've been looking
for you.

You're a bad girl,
making outside calls.

Who you calling?
Are you calling the police?

They never listen.

Well, now you gotta be punished,
doctor.

Don't worry... it's not really
punishment with me.

You're gonna love it!

Get off of...

Hey!

Get off of me!

[Struggling]

[Loud crashing]

[Celeste whimpering,
Bobby laughing]

Take it easy!

[Celeste yelps]

No! Let me go!

We were just
having some fun...

[Head-butts gow,
who hits the floor]

My god...

[Phone beeping off-the-hook]

[Celeste gasping for breath]

I was...

I was just calling a friend...

I was just
calling a friend.

No, no, please!

No, please. Please, no!
I'm sorry.

[Phone still beeping]

[Celeste crying out, echoing]:
Let me out!

[Clock chiming]

[Siren wailing]

Dr. Quilley, let me out!

[Celeste crying]

Let me out!

[Incoherent whispering]

Good morning, Celeste.

Or, um, afternoon.

You had quite
a rough night.

You were calling out
and crying.

Do you sleepwalk,
normally?

Because we found you

unconscious,
down the hall.

He put me in the cage again.

Mr. Jones again?

Now, don't you
do that to me.

I was in Dr. Quilley's
office last night.

Now, why would you
do that?

To use the phone,

and Bobby gow...

He followed me.

[Voice wavers]:
He followed me...

And he attacked me.

And then Jones came,
and he knocked him out,

and then he drugged me,

and he put me
in the cage again...

And there was quilley's bells
and...

The chimes... and the sirens
that wouldn't stop.

Celeste...

That's just not possible.

See, I know for a fact

that Mr. Jones was
in the city last night,

and Bobby gow was in his room.

No, don't you
do that to me!

I locked him in there myself.

Don't do that to me!

Celeste...

At the time
of Paul Bernard's death,

was there a siren...
Police or ambulance...

No!

You might've heard and now
associate with Paul's death?

No! You follow me,
and I will prove it to you.

No, it happened here.

Good morning.

But it was...
There was glass.

And it was...

It was... it...

[Breathing loudly, trembling]

[♪]

[Celeste]: My... my dad
had a family practice,

and he was warm
and interested in his patients.

I like to think
that, if I have some of that,

it's because of him.

How did you
meet Dr. Paul Bernard?

[Takes a breath,
chuckles sadly]

Paul was my prof
in fifth year.

I always had questions
after class,

and we often went for coffee.

And then, one day,
at the same time,

we just both reached out...

And grabbed each other's hand.

That's very romantic...

But now we have to talk
about Paul's death.

You see, you haven't
told the truth

to me or yourself.

What?

It's time to tell
the truth, Celeste.

D... don't.

Paul's death
wasn't an accident.

He killed himself,
Celeste,

and you found him.
Do you remember that?

[Sobbing]: No.

You have to.

You have to go back
to that moment.

[Sobbing]

[♪]

He killed himself...

And you found him.

[Sobs deeply]

Oh, my god.

And there was blood...

And he didn't move.

Oh, my god.

I touched him...

But he didn't move.

Why didn't he come to me?

Why didn't he talk to me?

Why didn't I see it coming?

You feel
as if you have failed him

as a doctor and as a lover.

Yes. Oh...

You see, you were attracted
to quilley's methods

because yours had failed

to diagnose
your own lover in time.

Does all of this
make sense to you?

Yes.

And you knew that.

That's why you came here
as a patient.

[♪]

That's good.
That's good.

That's very good.

This has been
a big breakthrough,

Celeste,

the first step
in your getting well.

Thank you, Desmond.

Thank you for telling me
the truth.

Thank you.

Well done.

[Sighs heavily]

[Muted background
dinner conversations]

[♪]

[Celeste]: Well, you often
write your poems

from a child's point of view.

Why is that?

We are all
children at heart.

In our last session,

you were telling me
a little bit

about your family.

Could we talk about that again?

No.

Your husband?

[Snaps angrily]: No!

Your child?

You know...

You really do remind me a lot
of Dr. Beresford.

So pretty, so concerned.

Perhaps it's because
you're wearing her clothes.

Her clothes?
What do you mean?

The clothes that miss donneymede
gave you to wear,

they belong to Dr. Beresford.

That scarf... she used
to wear it a lot.

I always admired it.

Could I try it on?

Sure.

Why doesn't Dr. Beresford
have her clothes?

She doesn't need them anymore.

She's buried in the dungeon

with Dr. Quilley.

Isadora, we have been working
on changing your beliefs

that Dr. Quilley

is not the real
Dr. Quilley,

and I thought that
we were making progress,

but you still believe
that he is buried down there?

Well...
I don't like to disappoint you.

And now you think

that Dr. Beresford
is buried beside him?

I'm afraid it's true.

She took
a "leave of absence."

I've seen
the graves.

Now, I've decided,
I like this one.

Could I please borrow it
for my poetry reading?

Sure.

You're very nice.

Don't let them
kill you, too.

[♪]

Ladies and gentlemen,

I give you

our esteemed poet,

Isadora snow.

Thank you.

Thank you!

I am... I'm so excited
I'm quite breathless,

but I am
completely ready

to perform for you
this evening,

and that is because
we have with US

a very special,
very famous guest...

Please,
put your hands together...

In applause,

for...

Miss winfrey!

Miss... Oprah Winfrey.

[Hesitant applause rises]

Now, my first poem
is called "cold floors."

[Silence descends]

"There's the responsibility,"
he told me.

He had always
admired his nanny...

But the floors were cold.

They drove the nail
into the wood!

I could feel
the movement-like zen.

There's the lady
with the baby carriage again.

Clean on Saturday,
sleep on sunday.

All this restlessness inside me!

"I only wanted my Dolly."

And that's the tragedy.

The fish is not good!

[Bobby gow chortling]

[Others start snickering]

[Applause drowns out laughter]

Thank you.

Why was the floor so cold,
and whose nanny was it?

E-Excuse me.
What kind of doll?

I ate bad fish once,
in Shanghai.

I'm so sorry, Oprah.

Please, could you stop talking?

But you're awful.

- Well...
- Terrible.

My second poem
is called "black and white."

Nothing
is black and white.

Oh, bessemer, why
don't you shut up?

I am trying to associate
this "fish" business.

Who played a trick on her?

Please, could you stop talking?

That should have been

the therapeutic
line for her.

[Chastising]: Desmond!

[Man]: I didn't eat fish again
for years.

[Man #2]: I'd like
to go back to my room.

I like cold floors.

You have embarrassed me
in front of Oprah!

[People murmuring]

[Celeste]: Everyone, quiet!

Do you not understand

this is art!

[Isadora sobbing]

[Room falls silent]

That was the rudest display
that I've ever seen,

guests and doctors both.

You know how important
Isadora's poetry is to her,

and you should be
ashamed of yourselves.

[Thunder crashing]

[Thudding down the hall]

[Door creaks]

[♪]

Evan?

[Thumping]

[♪]

Mr. Jones?

Mr. Jo...

[♪]

[Moaning]

[♪]

[Crying]

[Gasping]

[Crying approaching]

[Handle rattling, Evan grunting]

Please, Evan...
Please, don't hurt me.

Please...

[Footfalls and crying
receding]

[Thunder crashing]

[Screams and cries]

[Sobbing]

[Quilley]:
Were you not aware

that Isadora was restricted

from having any belts
or scarves?

Anything that she could
harm herself with?

No.

Well, it was in the file.

Did you even read it?

The scarf seemed like
an innocent request.

[Sighs]

How was it
that you found Isadora?

It... it was during
the power failure.

I-I heard a crash,
I went out to the hall,

and I saw that Evan's door
was open.

His door was open?

Yes. He'd escaped.

And so I was worried

that he might hurt somebody
or himself.

So I called Mr. Jones
for help...

And... and then he was coming,

and I ran upstairs.

Up the stairs?

Yes.

To hide.

I hid in a room,

and then I
heard him leave...

And then I saw her.

Celeste,

Evan couldn't possibly
have escaped.

You must have imagined
the door being opened,

or possibly dreamt
he was chasing you.

No, I saw the door open!

He must be able
to get in and out of his cell.

No, he followed me.

Look, he gave me back
my handkerchief.

What handkerchief?

He gave back my handkerchief.

Desmond, he did.

Celeste.

The idea that Evan can get in
and out of his cell at will

is, um...

Unrealistic.

I think

what you both fail
to recognize

is that even though Celeste
is still highly functioning,

she is still deeply ill,

perhaps even more
delusional

than we thought.

I'd like you to cancel
your session with Desmond

and rest in your room

for the remainder
of the day.

Miss donneymede will
bring you your meals.

[Knock on door]

[Door opening]

Hello, my dear.

I've got your laundry.

How are you coping?

What a thing for you
to have to go through.

Tragedy.

Well... at least
she's at peace now.

Isadora told me

that this clothing
belonged to Dr. Beresford.

Is that true?

Isadora had quite
the imagination.

Bless her.

Goodnight, my dear.

[Door shuts]

[♪]

[♪]

[Cat meows]

[Gasping]

[♪]

[♪]

"Beresford"?

[♪]

[Gasps]

[Bobby]: Hey there,
sweet buns.

What brings you
down here?

This where you come

with the good
Dr. Moore?

You know, we've all
been speculating.

Ain't much of a love nest,

but there's no accounting,
is there?

What are you doing down here?

[Celeste gasps]

[Cries out]: Jones!

"Jones!" they can't
hear ya down here.

You can call
all you want.

[Panting]

[Door rattles]

Are you hiding
from me?

You stay away from me.

Where are you going?

[Rat squeaking]

There's a beauty.

[Celeste gasps
as he fires weapon]

Look at that sweetheart.

You almost made me
miss my shot.

Dr. Quilley says

I'm the best rat-catcher
they've ever had.

It always
gets me excited...

After a kill.

[Whimpering apprehensively]

I... I agree
with Dr. Quilley.

Yeah?

I know you're
a terrific shooter.

Yeah, it must feel
good to...

To rid the place
of them.

It does feel good.

[Cringes]: Ugh!

How do you feel?

Do you get excited
after a successful hunt?

Yeah, but you
only just started.

- Hmm?
- You've only just started.

Yeah, I have only
just started.

- Oh! There!
- What?

Uh, th-there's a rat,
behind the counter.

[Loads rifle chamber]

[Gun fires]

[Door opening]

[Panting breathlessly]

Desmond?

What is it?

I was just down in the cellar.

Down in the cellar?
For what?

It's the middle
of the night.

No, I needed
to see for myself.

There are graves down there,

and there are labeled
boxes and suitcases

with personal belongings,
including Dr. Quilley's.

Now, why would Dr. Quilley's
personal belongings

be in the basement,

unless what
Isadora said was right?

The real Dr. Quilley
was murdered

and the current Dr. Quilley...

I think that he killed Isadora

for telling me.

And Dr. Beresford...

Why are her suitcases
down there,

and miss donneymede
has her clothes?

So I think that
they may have killed her

when she found out
about quilley.

Okay, all right.

All right,

just take it easy, okay?

It's all right.

Let's just think
this out logically.

I want you to just
start breathing deeply

for a minute, okay?

Okay, now, look
at this with me

as if you were
the doctor, hmm,

and you're analyzing a patient.

Now first consider the patient's
previous behavior.

The patient
has experienced things

that may not have been real...

The cage
with the clock,

and the bells...

The question of who
ripped up your clothing,

the attack by Bobby gow
when he was locked in...

And then being
chased in the dark

by Evan Franklin,

when he never left his cell.

No, I believe
that Evan was there,

and he gave me back
my handkerchief.

You're a professional
psychiatrist, Dr. Dupont.

But I saw the graves.

Okay.
Let's start there.

Did you know that

they were repairing
the foundation in the basement?

The plans

are on quilley's desk.

They're not graves.

They're part
of the construction,

and the suitcase
with quilley's name

no doubt is just

some unneeded personal effects.

There's a whole storeroom
of donated clothing

on the third floor

for the guests.

Beresford herself
donated some

before she went
on leave.

You just
happen to fit

Dr. Beresford's clothes.

You're her size.
That's how you got them.

You're a doctor.

You also have
a mental illness.

You know that,
don't you?

And you're struggling

to separate fantasy
from reality.

You're doing
so well.

This is just a minor
step backwards.

Okay, we're still
in the early stages

of your therapy.

No, you're going to get cured.

We...

Are going to get
through this together...

Until you are well again.

I promise.

I'm going to walk you
back to your room.

Please...
Don't be an illusion.

[♪]

[Quilley]: Dr. Moore and I
have decided

it's time for you to move on

to the final stage
of your treatment.

I'm worried that
it's too soon, but...

What is the "final stage?"

The truth.

The truth about Paul Bernard.

I know the truth.

You told me.

The suicide story

was an interim
first step, I'm afraid.

It got you
half the way there.

You've blocked the deeper
memories from your mind.

As a psychiatrist,
you'll find this fascinating.

Okay, for god's sake,
what are you talking about?

Paul's dead.

Paul's dead, isn't he?

Yes. He's dead.

But not by suicide.

You see, uh...
You killed him, Celeste.

You shot
Paul Bernard.

No...

No, it was suicide.

No.

You had to accept Paul's death
in stages.

This is the final stage.

You were arrested
for his murder.

You were found

mentally incompetent
to stand trial.

You were declared

criminally insane,

and you were committed here
to millburn.

Okay, I don't remember
any of this.

I didn't kill Paul.
Why would I kill Paul?

I remember finding him...

In flashes...

And there was blood...

And he was lying forward
in his desk...

The gun...

That's good, Celeste.

That's what
you remember.

We'll need to keep

going deeper
into that memory.

But I-I couldn't have
killed him.

I wasn't arrested.

I remember driving here alone
to take my position here.

You were brought here
in handcuffs,

by two court officers.

Don't you remember?

I don't remember
any of this.

Your lack of memory
about the, uh, murder,

your subsequent
psychological evaluation,

and your being brought here...

It can all be explained
by your deep-seated guilt.

[Moore]: It appears Paul
had been carrying on

different affairs
for some time...

Two with patients.

You found out.

[♪]

[Gunshot echoes]

I... I blocked it out...

It's the key
to all your delusions, Celeste.

You've made the final big step,
Celeste.

Let the true
healing begin.

[♪]

I forgot how much fun
it can be.

You know, when I was
a little girl,

I used to muck out
the stables for free rides.

Oh yeah?

You look like you've been
riding your whole life.

It's just like
riding a bicycle.

Thank you for suggesting it.

You are doing so well.

I owe it all to you,
Desmond.

Well, I'll see you later.

All right, boy.

Now, where do they put
your oats, huh?

[Horses whinnying]

I said there was stuff to do,
but she said it didn't matter.

[Door bangs open]

Desmond! I have to talk to you.

Can't it wait?
I'm in a session...

No.

Would you please
forgive me?

I'll be right back,
Herbert.

I found my car.

Do you know
what that means?

That means that
I did drive myself here,

like I remember,

that means
I was not in custody,

and that means
I did not kill Paul.

Okay, Dr. Quilley
has been lying,

and manipulating me.

I am not a murderer.

Celeste, you know what the mind
can do.

Please, just come
and see the car.

[Sighs]

I was getting oats
for the horses.

And then...

[♪]

No. It was right here.

The car was right here!

[Sniffles]: I swear,
it was right here.

[Sobbing]: No...

[♪]

[♪]

After all this
good work...

She was coming along
so nicely.

Now she's backsliding.

We have to be
proactive.

It doesn't help

that she's so familiar
with analysis.

Perhaps it wasn't a good idea
to bring her here to millburn.

[♪]

[Clunk]

It was all going
so well.

How could she
have found the car?

Don't blame me!

That's Jones' territory.
He's usually so efficient.

I'm afraid
we're going to have to

deal with Dr. Dupont

the same way we did

with Dr. Beresford.

[♪]

[Celeste's screams echoing]

Let me out!

You're becoming

a liability
I can't afford.

Don't be such an ass,
Desmond.

We always see our way
through these things.

It's never a good idea

to get close
to the guests.

I've warned you
about that.

We'll sort this out
like we always do.

Yes. We will.

[Quilley choking]

[Sighs, pours drink]

[♪]

Desmond...

Celeste!

Sorry to startle you.

Come. We're late
for dinner.

Um, my stomach's
a little upset.

I think I'm just
going to take a walk.

I really think you should
join US for dinner.

Sit.

Your hair smells
marvelous.

Now, then, doctors, staff.

I have an announcement to make.

Dr. Quilley has, uh, decided
to take a leave of absence,

and I will now be
the acting director at millburn.

Congratulations, Desmond!

Yes. Excellent choice.

No.

No, he is lying. Okay?

Okay? Dr. Quilley is dead.

He did not take
a leave of absence.

His body is in Desmond's office!

D-Did you hear me?

[Cutlery clinking]

Quilley is dead!

And I think
that Desmond killed him.

[Cutlery scraping plates]

[Paper rustling]

Quilley...
He's an... he's an imposter.

Okay?
And I think that Desmond is too.

And I think
that they killed Dr. Beresford

and probably others.

Okay,
we have to call the police.

[Celeste erupts]:
Did you hear me?

I saw the body!

And we have to call the police!

Desmond is an imposter
and a murderer.

Could you pass the buns,
please?

Of course.

[Others continue eating]

[Quiet realization]:
Dr. Fraser-Wilson...

Where did you take
your post-graduate studies?

I...

I can't remember.

Dr. Bloom...

In which hospital
did you do your residency?

I have no idea.

You aren't doctors...

[Desmond]: That's
very smart, Celeste.

You don't
disappoint me.

You see...

Years ago,
here at millburn,

the patients grew tired
of the incompetent doctors

analyzing them
and medicating them,

telling them what to do...

[Takes a breath]

So, we decided
to replace them.

Replace them?

Yes. You know
quilley's philosophy...

"You are who
you think you are."

The former patients
are now doctors.

[♪]

[Quietly]: What happened
to the doctors?

Ah, well...

[Smacks lips]

They took, um...

Leaves of absence.

[Takes a deep breath]

I think this is probably
an appropriate time

for some re-introductions.

Dr. Fraser-Wilson...

His real name
is ed rickets.

Pushed a car with his wife
and children

off a cliff in Vermont.

Dr. Herman bessemer...

Is actually Joseph pyper.

Murdered five prostitutes
in New Jersey.

Dr. Ester bloom...

Her real name
is Molly onderdonk.

She poisoned four wedding guests
in Toronto.

We all have our stories.

And miss donneymede?

Felicity Morgan.

She went into
her accounting firm

and shot
half of middle management.

And who is Desmond Moore?

His name is Damon bushby.

Tortured his wife
and her lover to death.

[Damon/desmond]: You see...

We're all patients,
like you, Celeste,

but the question is...

Will you join US

and continue on
here at millburn,

or resist...

Like Dr. Beresford did?

[♪]

That's too bad.

That's disappointing.

She'll be missed.

She was down in the basement.

Would you just go see

if she didn't turn off
the power grid?

Of course.

[♪]

Get off me!

[Kick, groan]

[Lever clunks]

[Zapping]

[♪]

[Clock ticking]

Oh, good!

I was worried about you.

How do you feel?

I don't like
to rush you,

but you never did really answer
my question.

I've grown rather fond of you,
Celeste, so, uh...

You have another chance.

It's the question

I asked Dr. Beresford
and all the others.

Would you accept the situation
here at millburn

and stay with US?

I need to know the truth.

Did I kill Paul?

[Chuckles]: Paul!

Paul, Paul...

I'm so sick of hearing
about Paul!

[Blurts]: No!
You didn't kill Paul!

He killed himself.

But you had to think
that you killed Paul

so that you could be one of US.

You could go on

being who you
thought you were,

a murderer.

[Pacing]

Now it's all falling apart
because you won't play the game!

You know,

I just don't think

you're really a good fit
here at millburn, Celeste.

In fact...

I think maybe it's time...

That you took
a leave of absence.

No...

I can help you.

No, I could give you treatment.

[Laughs]: Treatment?

You're going
to give me treatment?

I don't need treatment, Celeste.

I'm perfectly sane.

[Kick, groan]

Aah!

Help! Help! Somebody, help...

[Door slams]

[Struggling]

They always tell me
I don't have to do this...

But I do.

[Grunting]

[Gagging]

[Desmond/damon gasps]

[Furniture crashing]

[Blows landing]

[Grunting]

[Smack, groan]

[Panting]

[Dispatch radios crackling
indistinctly]

[♪]

Have you found
donneymede and Jones?

No, no, they cleared out,
but we'll find them.

What about
the graves in the cellar?

Well, forensics
is down there now.

Listen, we I.D.Ed the body
you knew as "quilley."

It was a Rupert Preston.

He was
a patient here.

Damon bushby
killed him.

Lucky he
didn't kill you.

I had some help.

Evan?

[Quietly]: It's okay.

So this is Evan Franklin...

And he saved my life.

How do you do, Mr. Franklin?

What are your
plans, doctor?

Are you going
back to the city,

or...?

Well, the o.H.M. Has asked me
to stay on

as interim director

while they find
new staff.

What'd you tell them?

I haven't given them
an answer yet...

But...

A little time in the country

might do me good.

Come on, Evan.

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