All language subtitles for Anyone.But.My.Husband.1975.BRRip.x264-ION10

- Slower, Bonnie. Slower.

That's it.

Yeah, yeah, keep doing it just like that.

Just like that.

Oh yeah, just like that.

Oh, oh, I can't wait.

I can't wait.

I'm coming.

I'm... oh, oh, hold on, hold on.

Oh, oh, oh, oh, yes, keep doing it.

Just like that, keep riding it like that.

Keep riding it like that.

Oh!

That's good, that's good.

- Okay.
- Oh, oh, oh.

Just like that. Oh, oh, that feels good.

Oh, that feels good.

- Oh, no, no.

- Oh, how young you feel.

Oh, yes, a nice little 15 year old.

Oh! Oh!

I haven't had one... oh, oh.

- Yeah.

- Oh, oh.
- Yeah.

- Oh, oh.
- Yeah.

- Oh, oh, yeah.

- Make it count.

- Now.

Now let it go deep inside of you.

Ah, how many years since I had a tight,

young virgin pressing down on me?

Yeah, you can feel all the thrusts.

That's it. Oh...

You feel like a virgin.

That's right, keep going.
Deep down, that's it.

Keep pressing harder.

Harder, keep pressing harder.

Oh, let's go... no.

Make it loud.

- Make it...
- Oh, I can't breathe.

Make it.

- Hello?

Oh, it's you Sylvia.

Look, I really can't talk.

I've got a capon in the oven

and Sam will be home in a minute.

- Better.

- What's that supposed to mean'?

He's at a teacher's conference.

Keep up with my rhythm.

There's no rush.

- Of course I believe him.

Look, I really can't talk.

That's a rotten thing to say.

- Now slowly, slowly, slowly up and down.

Yeah.

Want to feel that tight
little cunt of yours.

Oh, I'm gonna fill you up, you bitch.

Oh, yes! Oh yes, around, that's it.

In a circular motion,
yeah, yeah. Around, around.

Yeah! Yeah, just like that.

Fuck me.

Fuck me.

Oh, Mr. Pelham!

You don't stand a chance tonight, Sam.

Ooh! Ah, ah!

I'm gonna fill you up.

You're gonna be full of my semen,

you little, cunting bitch.

You twat.

Oh, oh, ican't wait. I
can't wait, I can't wait.

I can't wait! I'm coming,
I'm coming!

Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!

- Well, Sam, here's to our new beginning.

- Hey, you're too young
to drink. Cut that out.

You've gotta
be kidding, Mr. Pelham.

You know, I always wondered
what it would be like

to fuck my history teacher.

Ah, don't kid me.

I've seen you looking at
all them tits and asses.

And how come you're always
hanging out at the gym, huh?

- Hey, look.

That's quite enough
out of you, young lady.

- Bonnie?

Bonnie, are you home?

What the hell are you doing
in there with the door closed?

- Who the hell is that?

- That's my mother.

- Your what?

- My mother.

Well, everybody's got one.

- Have you got a man in there?

- Oh, don't worry about it.

She was at a friend's house.

She just came home early.

- Fuck you, you little cunt.

How am I going to get outta here?

They usually go
down the fire escape.

- Oh, help me, this is the last time.

I'll fix you so you won't
even be able to walk again,

you little tramp.

Wait 'til your father gets home.

So... and down the fire escape again.

Yeah, I'll fix this one.

I'll see that he winds up behind bars.

My own daughter... a whore.

God, where have I gone wrong?

- Sam, I prepared all this for you.

Come, let's have some
champagne before dinner.

- Come on. Leave me alone, will you, Nora?

Look, I had a rough day today at school

and I'm in no mood to celebrate.

I suppose you think it's easy teaching

those little bastards, huh?

Some soft life, a college degree I needed.

- Oh, please, Sam.

It'll be just like it
was on our honeymoon.

Remember? I was too young to drink,

so you had to bring a bottle of champagne

up to the hotel room.

- Jesus, knock it off, will you?

- Oh, honey.

- Oh, come on, get outta here.

Ugh, boy, I could sleep for seven days.

- Please have some champagne with me.

Champagne?

That's just beautiful.
That's just beautiful.

That's just what I need.

I work like an idiot all day long,

trying to teach history
to homicidal morons,

and you want me to drink
champagne.

Only I have a wife who
buys caviar, champagne,

anything else on a high
school teacher's salary!

- What's the matter, Sam?

Have I gotten too old for you?

- Yeah, too old in the wrong places.

Caviar?

What the hell do you
think this is, anyway?

The ss. France?

You know, your body may have gotten old.

You're not the cute little high
school cheerleader anymore,

but your brain hasn't
gotten past the third grade.

Now will you turn off that damn record?

Sure, sure, Sam'll pay for it.

Sam'll pay for anything.

The pelham to the jet center to block.

Oh, will you shut the fucking lights?

Another thing...

- This is really very
embarrassing, Dr. Malcolm.

I've never been to see
a psychiatrist before.

- But Sylvia...
- Yes, that's right.

Nothing to fear when you sit in here.

Now, why do you think your
husband won't touch you?

- Because I'm too old.

- You don't look very old.

How old are you, Nora?

- You don't understand.

I'm 22.

We were married when I
was 16, but my husband...

Well, he has this hangup.

He likes young girls.

- Well, I can understand that.

I like them myself.

Now, as to your problems,
say the first thing

that comes into your mind.

Oh, no, on second thought,
that'll take too long.

We have to deal with
this problem directly.

- Dr. Malcolm, do you
think I'm unattractive?

- Of course not.

I find myself attracted
to you quite easily,

but you needn't worry.

I can control my feelings.

Now, you seem to think that
this is your fault. It isn't.

I don't think it's Sam's fault, either.

These things happen in marriages

when the partners have been very close.

- What does that mean?

- It means what it means.
- Don't worry about meanings.

That will only confuse the
issue. Just try to be subjective.

Don't try to figure out your
problems. Just solve them.

- Well, what should I do?

There's only one thing for
it. The answer is very simple.

You must have an affair.

This will prove that some men
still find you attractive,

and this will undoubtedly
change the pattern of your life.

- You, a psychiatrist, advising
me to cheat on my husband?

- He probably does the same thing.

Anyway, you're paying me
for my professional opinion.

That is my professional opinion.

Take it or leave it.

- I guess I'll have to take it,

but how do I go about having an affair?

- Oh, Nora, I'm surprised at you.

You know I can't advise you on that.

It would be unethical.

- And then what did he say?

- He said he couldn't
advise me on how to do it.

How do you go about
having an affair, Sylvia?

- Ugh.

Don't you think it's about
time you grew up, my dear?

I bet you still don't know anything.

Well, of course, how could you

with that jellyfish of a husband you have?

- Sylvia!

- Oh, never mind.

At any rate, we must first
decide what kind of a man

we wanna have an affair with.

Let's see... an intellectual,
a hard hat, truck driver?

- What do you mean, "we?"

- Look, sweetie, you don't think

you're in this alone, do you?

Darren makes
love to me once a week.

On sundays, if I'm very lucky.

He says that it's terribly
gauche and recherché

during the week.

He says that his mind is too full of art

and inspirations during the week.

Yeah.

I know what his mind
is full of, all right.

So we're both looking for affairs.

Now what's it's going to be?

The intellectual or Stanley Kowalski?

- Who's Stanley Kowalski?

- Please.

Never mind.

I think we'll start
with the creative type.

Darren went to an art gallery
opening just the other day.

The artiste, as they
say, is simply divine.

- Sylvia, I just don't know.

- Oh, look, there he is.

Now come on, let's go over
and I'll introduce you.

- Sylvia, what would he want with us?

- Nora, don't be such an arse.

- How do you do?

My name is Nigel farthington.

How very charming of you
to come to my gallery.

Charming, mmm.

Well, I've told you my name.

You must tell me yours.

- Oh, I'm so delighted to
meet you, Mr. Farthington.

I'm Sylvia, darling.

- Just charming.

- And this is Nora pelham.

-Mmm.

Charming.

I can only hope that you
will be mildly amused

by my modest attempts.

You show very good taste
in coming to my gallery.

The most important thing in life is chic,

and of course, a discerning eye.

- How very delighted I am to
meet you, Mr. Farthington.

- And now, my darlings,

I shall take you and show you everything.

- This is all breathtaking.

I don't know very much about all this,

but I'm sure you're a very great artist.

- Yes, I can just see the
greatness all over the place.

- My dear Nora, every
moment I live, I'm creating.

Everything to me is art.

I shall now take you and transform
you into my own creation,

and then you will see my true genius.

- You two darlings run along and create.

Aunt Sylvia is late for her dog show

and she expects to win the first prize.

Ta-ta.

- Your friend is a little
too cynical for my tastes.

But you? You're charming.

Now come with me.

I'm terribly sorry.

The gallery is closed for today.

Thank you for coming.

Good afternoon.

Now, Nora, let us go over
there and we will create.

We're wasting time.

Remove your clothes.

- Well, can't you paint
me with my clothes on?

You're joking, surely.

You Americans.

To think that I would be so
pedestrian as to use canvas.

No, this masterpiece
will be a moment in time.

Now remove your clothes.

- Stop it, you must be mad.

I'll scream, really.

You must be crazy!

- You can scream all you like.

You'll not be heard, for
this room is soundproof.

Yes, it caters to my eccentricities.

Scream, twist and turn. Help
create my new masterpiece.

Scream!

Keep bleeding, Nora! Struggle! Struggle!

You are my work of art.

Your fear is my greatest creation.

- Stop, please!

- Nora, please!

- Please, I won't tell anybody.

Let me go!

Fight!

How 'bout some more?

Yes. That's it, Nora. More.

Now keep fighting me.

It isn't any good unless...

That's it.

Just see your stomach
rising with mournful turns.

That's it.

Come on.

Scream! Louder!

That's it.

Scream, Nora, as your sweet flesh

is caressed by my artistry.

Keep bleeding, Nora. Struggle!

Moans of ecstasy, of greatness,

know the ultimate pleasure of pain.

That was rather charming, Nora.

You have just the right
amount of fear and passion.

I have given birth to a great new work.

How pleased you must be to know that.

Why don't you come back
tomorrow afternoon, around 3:00?

I shall need the same
sort of inspiration again.

Nora?

Nora?

Nora?

Nora?

- You know, you look different somehow.

- How?

- Oh, I don't know.

Never mind.

- When are you leaving?

- Tonight.

I'll be back in about a week
after the teachers' convention.

Will you miss me?

-Mmm.

- I was thinking, maybe you
should go to your mother's.

-Hmm.

- Well, the least you could
do is say that you'll miss me.

Maybe even ask me what
hotel I'm staying at?

- I'll miss you, but
must I know what hotel

you'll be staying at?

- Never mind.

That's the thanks I
get for making a living

and change that goddamn
wall back to a normal color.

This whole place looks
like a bubble gum factory.

It's shit.

- I waited until Sam left.

Now I want you to tell me everything.

- You sure know some crazy people, Sylvia.

Come on in.

- Well, did it happen?

Did you have an affair?

- Well, it was fun until
he started whipping me.

- He whipped you?

Oh, that's marvelous.

That's even better than I dared hope for.

How was it?

Did you like it? Did he hurt you?

Was it fabulous?

Did he make love to you?

- Are you nuts?

I was terrified.

Well, actually, it was little exciting.

- Oh, really?

Were you really turned on?

I mean, really turned on?

Are you going back?

- You must be out of your mind.

I want to go to bed, not to the hospital.

That man should be locked up.

I don't think I wanna meet any
more of your friends, Sylvia.

- Well, I mean, Nora, what
are you going to do now?

- Sam is leaving.

He won't be back until next week,

so I'll have plenty of time to experiment.

I think I'll try something
a little less violent.

- "For thy sweet love
remembered such wealth brings,

but then I scorn to change
my state with kings."

Oh, Nora, my love, we are
the children of our spirits,

the souls of spring to come.

We must consummate the rites of spring

and let our bodies and souls rise together

in a communion to the gods.

- Is all this really necessary?

- This?

Why, this is my shrine to
all the gods of poetry:

Keats, shelley, wordsworth, Tennyson.

Oh, lord Byron, longfellow.

Frost.

I must speak, Nora.

The words are burning in my mouth,

or maybe it's this chicken.

Nora, we were meant to be
together for all eternity.

Can't you see?

- What are you talking about?

- It's our destiny.

The fates have thrown us together.

You must marry me, Nora.

You must marry me today.
Today, Nora. Please.

Or I will not be
responsible for my own life.

- I should've known you were off the wall

when you asked me to dress this way.

And this set, it's like a
reject from south pacific.

- You cannot deny what is ours.

Come, Nora, we will marry this afternoon.

Hmm?

- Oh, fuck off.

Aren't there any sane
men left in this world

who just want a good lay?

- Nora, Nora, you will marry me?

It is inevitable.

We will be married this afternoon.

Nora, marry me.

Marry me!

- You know, I'm beginning
to think the only sane

and uncomplicated man
left in this world is Sam.

- Oh, for heaven's sake, Nora.

Don't be like that.

Just because you ran
into a couple of freaks

doesn't mean you're going
to give up, does it?

- I don't know.

I've begun to realize
just how much I love Sam.

- Ugh.

- Don't worry.

I'm not gonna give up.

- That's the spirit.

Onto the hordes!

Nora, have you ever had your fortune told?

- No, of course not.

- Well, it just so happens
that I have a friend

who has given me the address

of a very special fortune teller.

- Wait a minute.

Not another friend of yours.

- Oh, but I'll be there.

So it'll be just fine.

Don't worry about a thing.

- Oh, well, what have I
got to lose except my life?

- I see a man.

I see a man entering your life.

I see a man who is more than a man.

I see two men. No... I see
a man who is 13 feet high.

No, no, no. He's not high, he's long.

Yes, that is it. A man
who is 13 inches long.

- Impossible.

- He's 13 inches long.

Oh!

- Good heavens.

And he's called... he is called...

El goncho, yes.

- El goncho.

Now what does that mean?

- I don't know, it's cloudy.

I can't see.

- Oh, come on.

Bring him back, come on.

- Yes, yes, it is getting
clearer now, I see.

It means, "the schnook."

No, no, no, no, no, that cannot be.

I look again.

It means... it means, "the hook."

Yes, he is called the hook,

and the crystal tells
me that he's here now.

He was here and he is looking for Sylvia.

- Oh, really?

Oh, but that's impossible.

I haven't seen anybody here, have you?

- Not since you've come in.

But the crystal never lies.

He is here now and the crystal gives me...

- Can you imagine?

Isn't that the most absurd
thing you ever heard?

Is that thing for real?

- Madame chaney is never fake.

Everything in her house is real.

Here, pull on it.

You'll see.

The voice speaks normally, but his cock,

this is international.

He seems to have taken a fancy to Sylvia.

Very well, that's fine.

The crystal ball never lies.

You may take him up to room 8.

The door is open.

- Well, what the hell?

I can only live once, right?

- I see two women.

I see you and me.

- Now wait a minute.

- No, no, no, there's nothing you can do.

It's written in the stars.

Come, come, darling.

Take off your clothes and
we'll see what we have here.

- But I've never been with a woman before.

I mean...

- Come, I will clean you out first,

and then we will see
how well you make love.

I haven't had a good piece in over a week.

- Oh, boy.

- Nora, my sweet, this
boy must have his fun.

Open your mouth.

- Oh, god.

- He must've had an operation.

- Oh my god.

- My throat will never be the same.

It should only happen to Linda lovelace.

I'm beginning to think I
should've never strayed.

And now that Sam is in Chicago

and can't even defend himself,

I'm having these terrible
feelings of guilt

about these affairs, but I'm addicted.

I can't give it up. I never
felt so alive in years.

- This feeling of being
alive is good, Nora.

Now you begin to understand
some of your problems.

Your father was the key figure

and your oedipal problems
all stem from him.

This hysterical laryngitis
is a manifestation

of that very symptom.

Now, Sam was a substitute
father that you never had,

and your incestuous feelings towards Sam

made you tired and unresponsive.

So you see, the ramifications
of what you have...

- I don't know what the
fuck you're talking about.

Hysterical laryngitis, shit!

If you had just given
head to 13 1/2 inches,

you'd be a little hoarse, too.

- I am merely saying that
now that you're cured,

go back to your husband
and resume the marriage

that every young girl
dreams about, and then...

- What garbage!

You don't hear a word I'm saying.

You're nothing but a textbook.

Forget it, doc.

You're a pile of bullshit.

- And as you see, your oedipal
motivations are easily within

the grasp of your own mind,
no matter how subconscious

your fears might be, or even were.

For that matter, you might as
well forget the whole thing.

I early in the morning I

- surprise!
- Hey!

- Whoo!

- Hey.

- Turn on the light here so you can see.

- Hey, this is really nice.

Wow.

- You like it?

- Yeah, who pays for this place?

- Daddy, who else?

- Daddy.

This is really such a beautiful place.

- Make yourself at home.

- Oh, sure, Nora, oh..

- Nora?!

Who the fuck's Nora?

- Nora... no, never mind.

Nora.

- Get rid of this shit.

- Oh, but I like that.

- You like it?

I who's afraid of Virginia woolf I

I Virginia woolf I

I Virginia woolf I

- Nora, Virginia woolf?

Nora's afraid of Virginia woolf.

Have some wine.

- Nah.

You work on that thing.

I'll work on this.

- Yeah, you can't get it off, eh?

Oh, that's very nice, mmm.

- I'm in a mood, baby.

You were hot to trot before.

Let's get going, huh?

- Air conditioning, all right.

Very good.

Oh.

- Oh, baby.
- I can't get

this thing untied.

- You turn me on.

- Oh.

- Ah, you turn me on.

- Ah, thank you, Nora.

Nora.

Oh, Nora, Nora, I love you.

Oh.

- Who the fuck is Nora?

- Oh, Nora, Nora.

- Who the fuck is Nora, shit?

- I've been so bad to you, I'm so sorry.

- Oh, eat me, Charlie.

Oh, suck me.

- The name is Sam.

- Oh, Charlie.

- Sam.

- Charlie, suck me.

- Sam.

- Oh, Charlie, that's it.

Ooh, get it, Charlie.

- The name is Sam.

- Oh, Charlie.

- If you call me Charlie once more,

I'm gonna bite your clit off.

Sam!

Oh, Nora.

Nora, I love you, Nora.

- Oh, dang it.

- Oh, Nora.

- Oh, Nora.
- Sam.

- Nora.
- Charlie.

- Abby, Abby.
- Sam, Sam.

- Nora.
- Sam.

- Charlie.
- Oh.

- Sam - Nora, oh.

- Charlie.
- Nora.

Oh, Sam, Sam.

Oh, Sam.

- Nora.

Nora, honey, come out.

Let's have some wine to
celebrate my first night home.

- Please, Sam, some other time.

I'm much too tired.

- Yes, but I've been neglecting you,

and I wanna change all that.

- Not right now.

Anyway, you forgot the caviar.

Boy, am I beat.

I could sleep for seven days.

- Yeah, but I thought...

- What did you think?

Do you think you had a rough day?

Well, I have it tough.

Washing and cleaning and then
trying to look beautiful.

I've never been so worn out.

Sure, Nora will be there, her body waiting

for her lord and master.

Sure, buy wine, buy wine.

But nobody even asked me if I want wine.

And Sam, turn off the damn light.