All language subtitles for The.Man.From.UNCLE_128.The.Girls.of.Nazarone.Affair_DVDRip.avi

Gard�nias.
Gard�nias, madame et monsieur.

Gard�nias.
Gard�nias, madame et monsieur.

Gard�nias, madame?

I wonder, monsieur,
whether I may take your picture.

It would be an honor
to pose for madame.

Does madame wish
to pay a little something?

For the taking of the photograph.

Would you take this, please?
For contrast.

Ouch!

Hold it, please.

Thank you very much.

- Oh, pardon.
- Quite all right.

Madame, you forgot your corsage.

I do love the Riviera.

You just like blonds.

Brunettes.

- Dr. Kellwin's room, please.
Kellwin's.

Room 221.

But he has checked out
only this morning, monsieur.

Are you positive?

Quite positive.

And no forwarding address.

May I see his room please.

I'm sorry, that is quite impossible,
monsieur.

Well, there you are, old boy.

Take care!

Hello.

Hello?

This is Lavinia Brown in 221.

There are two strange men in my room.

Could you please send someone up
right away?

Thank you.

There, now.

I said, "There, now."

It's mechanic's grease spot here
and another.

There's another one here.

I don't suppose you're a racing driver,
Ms. Brown?

Just the raciest teacher
at the Pikes Fall Grammar School.

That's not saying very much, I'm afraid.

Now, if you don't mind...

Mademoiselle.

Would you please
show these gentlemen out?

When was the last time
you had a mechanic here?

Mechanic, monsieur?

Last year, I believe.

Two members of the British team.

Would you mind discussing this
in someone else's room?

Thank you. If we need anything,
we'll give you a buzz.

Oui, monsieur. Merci beaucoup.

Don't you dare move from here.

Napoleon.

Now, see here, Mr. Napoleon.

Solo. Excuse me.

Ah, yes. Something heavy
was either hauled up to...

...or lowered down from this balcony.

And recently.

- Is there anything else?
- Yes, this.

I found it wedged in the drainpipe there.

- It isn't weathered.
Ugh!

Get a doctor.
Get a doctor.

The gardenia vendor.

He looks a little dead.

Yeah, quite dead.

- I wonder?
- So do I.

Look where that flower stand is.

Now, from this balcony, obviously...

...there's some very funny things
have been going on.

Coincidental, isn't it?

Too much so.

I wonder what he'd seen.

Mr. Solo.

Coming, Ms. Brown

Who has the room above this one?

Why, I believe it is unoccupied.

The guest checked out this morning.

Naturally. Thank you.

Your fleeing friend had an excellent idea.

Your room is ready now, Ms. Brown.

- Mr. Solo.
- Mm-hm.

Do glance at it from time to time.

Flash cards still work
with children of all ages.

Pardon. Pardon, s'il vous pla�t.

Excuse me, I'm a doctor.

Please, would you stand back.

Would you ask them to please
stand back.

Pulse?

No pulse.

Heartbeat?

Oh, no heartbeat.

Please circulate.

Twenty-five thousand francs.

Not bad for a peddler of gardenias.

Oh, well, he paid rather dearly for it.

You sure it was poison?

Methylated cobrox.

The flower in his hand reeked of it.

So, what report do we send
to Mr. Waverly?

Listen, hold off on that call.

Listen, what was the formula
Dr. Kellwin was working on?

Why did he want U.N.C.L.E.'s protection
in the first place?

Well, obviously, the formula he was
working on disappeared with him.

Wait a minute.

What is it?

That disk we found
down on the balcony...

...I knew I'd seen
something like it before.

It's a modification disk
for a solenoid on a racing car.

A big one, I think.

Mechanic's grease on the floor,
solenoid disk for a racing car.

Well, Illya, how many garages do you think
there are on this part of the Riviera?

This, I believe, makes number 15.

Anyone home?

Hello?

Hello?

Hello. Hello.

Hello. Someone's home.

The garage is closed, gentlemen.

Yeah, we were just wondering,
are you the owner here or?

That is my racing car. I am Nazarone.

The garage is, I repeat,
closed, gentlemen.

Oh, you being a lady race driver...

...perhaps you can tell us
what the blazes this is?

My friend here says it's from a Bugatti,
but I say it's from a Delahaye.

I have told him to put his money
where his mouth is.

My buddy here is Russian, you see.

He's very stubborn
about things like this.

And how did you come by this,
may I ask?

I don't know. He picked it up
in the street in front of the Louis.

Tovarich here,
he always thinks that he knows...

I'm sorry, gentlemen.

I'm afraid I've never seen
a solenoid disk of this type before.

And now if you will excuse me
and allow me to carry on with my work.

Yeah. Hey, baby, you got
some pretty wild wheels there.

The garage is closed, gentlemen.

You recognize anything in there?

Anything or anyone?

The car.

It's the one she was driving when her friend
took a picture of the gardenia vendor.

Yeah, let's take a look around here,
shall we?

Speak of the devil.

Our picture-snapping, fashion plate friend.

And her all-girl orchestra.

You are ready, Nazarone?

I do not know.

To die in a racing accident,
that is one thing, but this...

Nonsense. Dr. Baurel prepared you.

Yes, he has.

Then take your position.

Start your motors.

Did you see that gun?

Yeah, there's only one kind of army
that issues that type of weapon.

- Thrush?
- Yeah.

Gone?

Ms. Brown, about our barging in
on you yesterday...

Do not disturb.

I will not ask. I will assume
Mr. Waverly loved our report.

Napoleon, how do you feel
about hallucination?

Why?

We saw an extremely attractive
female racing driver...

...become thoroughly murdered,
did we not?

- We did not.
- No.

Early edition.

"Renowned female racing driver,
Nazarone...

...entered the Baurel Clinic last evening...

...for a final checkup
before next week's...

...race."

Is it possible monsieur
did not hear the nurse?

Actually, yes, I did.
She has excellent lungs, you know...

...but my high school French...
Difficult to understand.

Sorry, girls, but I'm spoken for.

You again.

Signor, I neither know you
nor like your face.

I've paid for a private room here.

I do not know what you're seeking...

I am seeking to find out why you are not
a might more chilly than you are.

- Chilly?
- Chilly.

Seems to me the last time I saw you
you were rather well-ventilated...

...by a number of bullets.

Obviously, you are mistaken.

Confused...

...not mistaken.

You're not being very feminine.

May I ask what you are doing here,
monsieur, exciting my patient?

I'm terribly sorry, doctor.
What seems to be your patient's trouble?

Malnutrition, loss of energy,
vitamin deficiency or...?

The condition of any patient is always
highly confidential, monsieur.

He is a stranger to me, Dr. Baurel.

Yet for a reason I do not know,
he visited me once before.

Last night at the garage.

This young lady is here for a complete,
routine physical checkup...

...and absolute relaxation.

Now, if you'll be kind enough
to leave my clinic, monsieur.

Oh, okay, fellas.

All right, all right. Listen, guys...

Nazarone wasn't there, of course.

Alive?

And definitely kicking.

But that's impossible.

She had her own personal
Saint Valentine's Day Massacre.

Oh, she's still there.

Bored, lonesome and doggedly determined
to enjoy every minute of it.

I've been thinking...

...that formula Dr. Kellwin developed,
it's supposed to be a serum, isn't it?

To accelerate the normal healing processes
of the human body.

Well, if you saw Nazarone alive and kicking
after we saw Thrush kill her...

Yep. Obviously, Thrush got there...

...and got both Kellwin and his formula
before we did.

That accounts for that messy scene
in the hotel balcony.

And they injected some of it
into their girl Nazarone.

And then shot her...

...to see if the stuff really works.

Apparently, it does.

Bizarre little beggars, aren't they?

And now they're going to take
the formula home with them.

Unless...

Unless Thrush believes that somebody else
has Kellwin's formula.

Suppose we keep them around here
for a day or two...

...trying to guarantee their exclusivity.

Please, speak English.

Well, we were too late to get the formula
from Kellwin.

Maybe we can get it from Thrush...

...if we keep them around long enough
to get a shot at it.

That's a rather large "if."

Oh, I don't know.

Hi, there.

Hey, don't call the porter again.

If I were to say to you that
you were someone special to me...

...what would you think?

I'd think that my suspicions
were confirmed, that's what I'd think.

You're an escaped maniac.

If you don't mind,
I'd like to finish my postcards.

Lavinia Brown,
you and I have a rendezvous with destiny.

Stay away from me!

"U-N-C-L..." Hey.

You're one of those
international thingamabobs.

Yes, who needs your help.

My help?

Fifth-grade geography, history
and social studies.

Oh, come on, Mr. Solo.

I just wanna finish my postcards
and go to sleep.

It's really very nice that you're
not a real maniac and all that.

You just relax.

You must have been a rollicking success
at the Baurel Clinic.

- Hi.
- Oh, good.

One of you learned
how to knock on a door.

There is presently
a charming blond creature...

...crawling around under both our beds,
planting microphones.

Shall we go up and embarrass her?

Let's not disturb the sweet little thing,
shall we?

In a short time,
we will have plenty of things...

...for Thrush to eavesdrop on.

- How did the security check come out?
- Well...

Here we are.
527 Maple Street, Pike Falls, Arizona.

- That's my address.
- Unmarried. Not engaged.

Father's name: Charles Edward.

- Mother's name: Gertrude.
- Stop that.

Does teach fifth grade
and the Pike Falls Travel Bureau...

That's my very own private information
in that thing.

Now, you stay out of there.

Security precautions are necessary,
Ms. Brown.

- She's all right.
Hm.

Twenty-five thousand dollars.

I want you to deposit it in the morning
and start spending it.

Buy things, expensive things:

Clothes, cars, fur coats, wolfhounds.

Literally, throw your money around.

- My money?
- All yours.

On one condition:

Keep away from women with blond hair.

We'll take care of the rest.

The rest of what?

All right, we know where
the microphones are.

Let's check for booby traps.

I say you're wrong.

Thrush went through a lot of trouble
to get that copy of the formula.

If Kellwin had left another copy
they'd have secured it...

...before the girl who moved in found it.

Lavinia Brown
quoted me a part of the formula.

Well, I still say you don't pay
someone � 100,000...

...for something you haven't even
seen yet.

We'll see it.
She won't get the rest of that money...

...unless she delivers the formula to us
tomorrow night.

It's infuriating.
That sweet, innocent face of hers.

Lavinia Brown, indeed.

Whatever else she is,
she's a dangerous, sly young woman.

But at least Thrush won't be
the only one with the formula.

Unless Thrush hangs around
this little paradise...

...and nails our lovely Ms. Brown.

How could they?
They'd have to find out about her first.

To Ms. Lavinia Brown.

Just the microphones.

Can't find anything
that goes "hiss," "boom" or "bang."

How very un-diabolical of them.

This can't be a very well-disciplined
Thrush satrap.

It's just as well,
we need a good night's rest anyway.

Uh...

What was the name of that poison
that killed the flower vendor?

Methylated cobrox.

Methylated cobrox.

Well, thanks for renting me the place,
Ms. Sophie. It's so beautiful.

And I thank you, mademoiselle.
You'll be moving in tomorrow perhaps?

What? To my own cottage on the Riviera?
Tonight.

But of course.

Well, thanks again for renting me the place.
Bonjour and everything.

Ah!

What's the matter with you?

Forgive me, wealthy lady,
but I had to make sure it was you.

Now, if you don't mind,
I have to kidnap you.

You what?

Since we've made our point with Thrush...

...the time has come to deposit you
somewhere out of the line of fire.

- For your own protection.
- Protection?

What's a "thrush"?

You mean
there are some people somewhere...

...who are looking for me
with evil intent?

There's nothing to fret about
as long as we keep you hidden...

...and you don't talk to any blonds.
You haven't, have you?

Oh, no. No.
The real estate lady was a brunette.

- Hello.
- lllya, is she back?

Yes. Where are you?

Okay, hocus-pocus, make her disappear.

I'm on my way back
to Dr. Baurel's clinic.

Right. Ms. Brown and I are about
to drop out of the picture.

Good luck.

"Out of the picture"? Where?

There's a little village
in the Alpes-Maritimes.

Should do very nicely.

The Alps? But it's freezing in the Alps.
What about my new cottage?

No, definitely not.

Well, I absolutely refuse to be found
frozen to death in some craggy, old Alps.

Here's your cottage.
I hope it makes you happy.

- Won't you come in?
No!

You've got that sweet, innocent
business down pretty pat, haven't you?

Help the gentleman up.

Throw it away.

We know that you were to deliver
your copy of Dr. Kellwin's formula...

...to U.N.C.L.E. This evening.

You will deliver it to me now.

Or I promise you,
you won't ever see the evening.

- You don't understand. Honest, I don't...
- Honest, you don't.

Then where, may I ask, did you get
the sudden wealth to rent this cottage...

...and to buy the shiny, new car
that's sitting outside?

It won't work, Lavinia.

"Lavinia." My goodness, it sounds like
a spinster schoolteacher.

Now, see here, you...

Shall we?

We're taking Little Miss Muffet here
to the clinic.

Get rid of him.

Clinic?

I've never had so much energy
in my life.

I feel marvelous

What's the matter?

- Has Madame Streigau returned yet?
- No, she's due any moment.

She just telephoned to say she was bringing
the American girl in for interrogation.

I think we have an uninvited guest.

What's up, doc?

You. What right have you...

...to come sneaking in here...?
- No, no, no.

Nobody likes a tattletale, doctor.

What do you mean?

First, you tell me about Dr. Kellwin.

He died of natural causes. L... I swear it.

She was furious when he died.

She?

Come on, talk, little man.

Dr. Egret. She calls herself
"Madame Streigau" here.

Dr. Egret. That is a name I do know.

Another identity, another face...

...but always Thrush.

You expect me to believe
with Thrush involved...

...that Dr. Kellwin died of natural causes.

- Come on, doctor.
- No, it's true.

They found the formula in his briefcase
when they took him from the room.

But they only intended
to hold him long enough...

...to test the serum on Nazarone.

But the doctor, he...

He just... Just died.

He simply wasted away.

It seems a burnt out shell.

Severe exhaustion, perhaps.
I don't know.

Oh, so you took over...

...and prepared the serum
for Dr. Egret, n�e Streigau...

...and her Thrush friends
to test Nazarone.

Well, I was going to
lose my clinic to creditors and...

...they paid me very well.

All right. That's all I wanted to know,
doctor.

What do you mean?

What do you want?

Oh, what I want is to kill you, doctor.

But why? Why? I merely put
the serum together for them.

Exactly.
And U.N.C.L.E. Also has the serum.

So if you're not around to prepare it
for Thrush...

...we're firstest with the mostest. So...

No, I can... I can mix the serum for you.
I will work.

Doctor, we don't need you.

I will get you Thrush's copy
of the formula.

I know where it is. It's the only copy.

Now, you take me to Nazarone's garage,
I'll show you.

All right. Come on, come on.

Stop it right, Nazarone. You'll kill him.

- What's come over you?
- Strength, doctor.

Strength that sings inside me
like a racing engine.

Let go of him.
Madame will want him alive.

Let go.

Perhaps when madame
is through with this one...

...she will leave him for me.

Nazarone,
what is the matter with you, huh?

For me to tear apart with my bare hands.

Madame, one of our U.N.C.L.E. Friends...

...has been attempting to question
Dr. Baurel.

We have detained him.

Ask Dr. Baurel to prepare an injection
for this lady.

She seems a bit reluctant to cooperate.

It's true that Thrush
already has the formula...

...as evidenced by Nazarone's rapid recovery
from the bullet wounds in her body.

But we must make sure
that no one else has it.

Exclusivity brings the highest price,
as you know.

Of course, Madame Streigau.

You're working your way up in the world
through the use the pseudonyms.

Is that right...

...Dr. Egret?

Stand still, Nazarone.
What's the matter with you?

- Doctor, prepare it, please.
- No.

Merely a little Pentothal, my dear.

A truth serum. Harmless, really.

Unless of course it were to prove...

...that you don't have a copy
of the formula.

Then it could be fatal, I'm afraid.

Are you ready, doctor?

No! No! No!

The formula,
you received money for it, Lavinia.

Oh, yes. Money.

Marvelous.

What must you do to get your money?

Where must you go tonight
to earn your money?

Earn my money.

History, geography.

Teaching little boys and little girls.

And now $25,000...

...for doing nothing.

Nothing?

"Just have a ball.

We'll do the rest," he says.

Who said?

Nice, pretty, Mr. Solo.

The mattresses will float
for a few moments.

Then they will become saturated...

...and you will sink to the bottom, slowly.

There will be no marks on your bodies...

...only salt water in your lungs...

...from your accidental drowning
in the Mediterranean.

Oh, well, easy come, easy go.

All right, girls.

Salt concentrate, huh?

Hey, Lavinia,
don't move around so much.

You'll go under faster.

Where's Dr. Baurel?

Nazarone was all worked up.
The doctor went after her.

Get him.

He mustn't be out of my sight...

...until he's finished with the formula
and I'm finished with him.

Stop. Nazarone, where are you going?

One cannot just sit around
when one feels like this.

Come, little man.

We take a ride
around the concourse, huh?

Oh, my hair.

Did you bring a car?

Yes, Lavinia's new one.
Where do you want to go?

To the garage.

Baurel let it slipped
that the formula was there.

Come on.

What's the matter with Nazarone?
She must be mad driving off like that.

- Something has been happening to her...
- They've escaped, Madame.

Hold on to your hats.

The concourse area on the road to town
has already been sealed off for the race.

Stupid fools. Can't anything be done right
unless I do it myself?

Get the car.

But we can't overtake Nazarone's
racing car. We don't know...

Blast Nazarone and the prisoners
and Baurel.

We will go back to town to the garage,
pick up the formula...

...and leave the rest of them to the devil
of each other.

I'm burning up inside.

What have you done to me
with your serum?

What have you done?

There goes the fellas
in the black hats again.

Everybody out.
It's Madame Streigau herself.

And headed into town.

We seem to have lost our fatal charms.
She didn't even stop to shoot us.

She's after the formula.

And Nazarone is running a race,
using this part of the concourse.

I'll go after Streigau.
You stop Nazarone and get Baurel back.

How do you suppose I stop
that female rocket?

Why don't you try showing him your legs,
all right?

Come on, Lavinia. We have work to do.

Is this Nazarone?

What...? What happened to her face?

The formula.

Kellwin's serum.

It speeded the rate of metabolism
to such an extent...

...that she just used herself up
from inside.

Burnt herself out.

That's what happened to Kellwin.

I'm sure of it now.

Now we know about Kellwin's formula.

It accelerates recovery, all right.

And it goes on accelerating
until you're devoured by your own energy.

Is she...?

I mean...

She was dead the minute
the serum entered her body.

Ladies... Come on, back off, girls.

Now, ladies. Girls.

Ladies. Good girls. Come on.

Gentlemen's discretion. Ah!

Come on, girls, please.

Dr. Egret.

Think we'll ever know
what she looks like?

Today she's Madame Streigau
and tomorrow Sadie Kornblatt.

I can understand how you feel.

I'd be miserable, too, if I had to explain
to Mr. Waverly...

...how I let Dr. Egret and the formula
get away from me.

Hi, fellas. I'll be leaving in about an hour.

I shall be driving to Paris in my
own new, stylish car.

Napoleon, what's the matter?

Well, that formula is not the end
of the world, you know.

And after all, you did manage
to subdue...

...those two poor, defenseless,
innocent girls finally.

Thank you.

Why are you so concerned
about that formula?

If I were you, I'd be hoping
those Thrush people would feed it...

...to every single one of their personnel.

What was that?

Uh, Lavinia, would you care
for something to drink?

I mean, really, Napoleon,
after all, the stuff is deadly.

- Oh, is that right, Illya?
- Yes.

- Didn't I mention it?
- No, no, no.

You didn't mention that. No.

Oh, I'm sorry, but I couldn't resist it.

And after all,
you did say you like blonds.

Hold it.