All language subtitles for The.Laughing.Woman.1969

You really hurt me this time.

All right. See you next Friday,
same time, same place.

It's unheard of. Something like
this hasn't happened in years.

I'm sorry but the decision of the Executive
Committee hasn't been in your favour.

But...

Didn't they consider my diligence?

In a year, I could repay
the amount I've withdrawn.

It's not a question of reimbursing
what you've embezzled.

It's a matter of principle.
A philanthropic foundation doesn't need

a manager
who's just pocketed $100,000.

You surely know that.

I wonder, sir, if I could lodge
an appeal to the Board.

The decision of the Executive Committee
is irrevocable.

You should be grateful that the matter
won't be taken to court.

We don't want scandals.

I thought highly of you.

No, I really can't tonight.

Yes, we agreed but
I really can't this once.

I'm so sorry for leaving you
in the lurch at the last minute.

Hold on, will you?

But, darling, it's not my fault.
It's just...

I don't feel well.

Yes, all of a sudden.

It's my liver. That's what it is.

Where am I?

At the doctor's.
You know I'd never lie to you.

Oh, no. Of course it's not
a money matter.

I don't feel well. I've a fever
and I've got a high temperature.

I can't...

Let's put it off until next Friday.

I'd like to speak to the director.

- Miss Ergstrom is here.
- Who?

- Miss Ergstrom, from the press office.
- Let her in.

He'll see you now.

Ergstrom.

- A Swedish surname, isn't it?

- I'm always forgetting it.
- I've only been working here a month.

Tell me.

I'm sorry to bother you

but I need more material for my bulletin
on male sterilisation in India.

I need trade publications.

I'd gladly give them to you,
but I've got them at home.

- I can drop by and get them.
- There's no hurry. I'll bring them Monday.

I hate to insist but I was hoping to get
the article completed over the weekend.

You've a very odd way
of spending your weekends.

I seem to concentrate more
on weekends.

I can shut myself off from people
and not be distracted.

Are you personally
for or against sterilisation?

I'm all for it. A man who
already has two or three children

can be perfectly sterilised.

Why should the women always be
the ones to take precautions?

The pill is harmless. The sterilisation
means permanent incapacity.

It's a monstrous barbarity.

I agree that the great increase
in population must be curbed.

But only by means that
don't lessen man's potential.

Like, through modern
educational programs.

Through...
a repeated appeal to responsibility.

Publication and diffusion
of various methods.

And if that isn't enough,
through the use of the pill.

It is essential that
the fertility of the man

should remain absolutely intact.

- Is that clear?
- My personal opinion apart,

I'll write a report
to your satisfaction.

- I sincerely hope so.
- May I come for those publications?

Alright, do come.

The address is rather hard to find.
I'll expect you at 8.30.

Thank you. Goodbye.

I can't understand their meaning,
but they're charmingly decorative.

They were painted by a missionary.
He copied the microscopic slides

of various types of
bacteria and protozoa.

Bubonic plague.

Leprosy.

Typhus.

Cholera.

Carbuncles. Tetanus.

Diphtheria. Rabies.

What's this one?

Trypanosoma gambiense.

It causes the sleeping sickness.

It's the one I like the best.

Would you like a whisky?

No ice.

- Do you like my little collection?
- Yes, it's very interesting.

I've never thought
you had such a hobby.

After all,
we don't know each other well.

The only thing I know about you is

that you're a pretty and
very enthusiastic journalist.

I know a little more about you.

You're a philanthropist, a bachelor,

and you've a very impressive
collection of daggers.

They're nothing special.
The valuables are few.

This one, for instance.

A Florentine work, 15th century.

Apparently, it belonged to
Giuliano de' Medici.

It has an inside groove, for poison.

Please, untie me.

Why?
From an aesthetic point of view,

your position is perfect.

You shape a long, sinuous line

against the grid's straight bars.

Very feminine.

You are mad.

No, darling.

I'm not mad.

You are.

You and all the other women.

You want to rule the world.
You're making yourselves self-sufficient.

Socially and sexually self-sufficient.

Do you realise what you're saying?
Enough of this buffoonery.

There are specialised units

where the sperm of
the most intelligent men is frozen.

So that in 10, 20,

or 50 years, a woman
can pick the child she wants.

Blond or dark.

Blue-eyed or brown-eyed.
Athletic or intellectual.

Football fan or music lover.

What does it matter if the father's dead?

What does it matter
if there are other living men

and sexually useful?

It doesn't matter at all.

Woman won't need them.

She'll only need a tube of sperm
to be chosen from a rack,

like an aperitif or a tonic.

Please, I beg you, let me go.
Come to your senses.

And you won't even have
the unpleasantness of seeing

your beautiful belly
distorted by pregnancy.

Four weeks after fertilisation,

you'll deposit the unripe fruit
in a special incubator.

Please.

Stop it.

Female rabbits have already learnt
how to reproduce by parthenogenesis.

All on their own.

Without any help from the male.

They breed exclusively
female offspring.

And you, women, will learn
to reproduce like that.

Giving birth to females only.
A world populated by females alone.

The tranquillising influence of
the full moon at the moment of birth

channels the onanistic instinct
toward extroversion.

Gemini with Mercury on ascendant
will accentuate masochism and sadism.

Those born in the early morning,
will have a tendency towards masochism

with sublimation of sadistic urge.

Cancer with the Moon on ascendant
gives rise to necrophilia.

However, it'll never be
put into practise

and it will be replaced by scopophilia.

Lion with the Sun on ascendant
is responsible for pederasty

as a never-accomplished taste,

and for sodomy which is instead
widely practised at an adult age.

If the Moon was in the first quarter
at the time of birth,

these tendencies will be manifested
in a rather mild way.

You've been listening to:
"Sexual Aberrations and the Stars"

You have to make love with him
and prove that you enjoy it.

Use all your femininity.

Hold him. Hold still.

Hug him.

Come on, hold him tight.

Kiss him.

On the mouth. On the mouth.

More heatedly.

More heatedly, I said.

Are you deaf?

Very gently, mind you.
With a touch of gracefulness.

Especially between the toes.

Pay a very special attention.

Good girl.
Now, further up.

Ankles take more energy.

Energy.
Haven't you any strength in your arms?

That's better.

Now, the other foot.

Well done.

Obey my orders promptly
and do everything with diligence.

You must be aware
that you're my slave.

I can do with you whatever I want.

Even kill you, if I feel like it.

Understand?

Please, take me back to town.
I swear I won't do anything against you.

No one will ever know
what happened here.

I've done everything you wanted me to.

I can't stand it anymore.
Let me go.

But why? Why me?

I'm not sexy.
I'm just like other girls.

Why you?
It happened by chance.

Nothing but chance.

You've replaced the victim
I missed at the last moment.

The poor girl felt sick.
A liver attack.

I needed a woman for the weekend

and I took advantage of the fact
that you were there.

At an arm's reach.

You can drink it.
There's no narcotic.

It's too soon to kill me, isn't it?

You had too little fun with me.
It'd be a pity to waste me.

Eventually...

I've sworn that I wouldn't say a word.
That I'll forget all this forever.

But, you don't want believe me.

I see. Why taking the risk?

It's so much simpler to kill me.
And much more exciting.

It can't be the first time. This is just
another of your amusing weekends.

How many women have you dragged here?
Tortured and killed, then disposed of?

You may as well admit it,
for all the difference it will make.

Talk. Say something.

At least have the courage to
look me in the eye. Coward.

Why don't you kill me now?
Here I am.

Kill me. What are you waiting for,
you murderer?

Please, go get my cigarettes.
They're in a box, on the sideboard.

Well? My cigarettes?

Coming.

You thought I was so foolish?

You're such a fool.

I set a little trap for you
and you walked right into it.

You need to cool off a little.

Turn around.

Come closer.

You can't imagine the pleasure
it gives me to look closely

at a woman gripped by fear.

I'd be wonderful to feel, perceive,
what is going on inside you right now.

The adrenal glands are secreting
a greater discharge of adrenalin.

The adrenaline is contracting the
blood vessels, slowing the circulation

and producing

that livid pallor in your face.

At the same time, your blood pressure
and cardiac rhythm are intensifying.

Your heart is pounding,

and an aching emptiness
fills your stomach.

The sweat glands are over-active.

Your hands are soaked in cold sweat.

But the salivary glands
seem to be blocked.

Your mouth is dry.

Your throat is hoarse and raspy.

Your tongue...

Your tongue is glued to the palate,

as you taste the bitter taste of gall.

Your personality no longer exists.

You're ready to obey blindly.

I can give you any order
and you'd obey me, won't you?

To have under one's observation

a woman prisoner

knowing that she's at death's door

is a spectacle of rare charm.

But it's even more exciting to know
that, in her brain,

despite the gnawing terror,

there's still a grain of hope.

This is where the pleasure comes in,

from nurturing that
prospect of salvation. And then,

at the moment when the victim is under
the delusion that her life is saved,

you crush her under your foot.

- How many women have you killed?
- Quite a few, I suppose.

You join carnally with your victims?

I kill them at the moment of climax.

Have you always had sex this way?

Always.

You're not tired of that yet?

Do you know that you're not here
to do an interview?

Don't worry. I'm won't use this
for a news article.

I only wanted to see if you're ready
to switch to another game.

What do you mean?

Stop it while there's still time.

Until now, you got away with it,
but it won't last long.

The same tortures,
the same screaming...

In the long run, all the victims
end up looking alike.

And blood is still only blood.

I'm sure you're no longer
getting the same thrills.

Even if that were true,

- I have no alternative.
- Yes, you do. Think about it.

You're a handsome, rich
and intelligent man.

You can have all the women you want.

You can have hundreds of them
with the least effort.

You could make them yearn for you.

Make them suffer or cry.
Or even drive them to suicide.

Believe me, you don't have to torture
and kill to satisfy your sadistic drives.

There are erotic techniques that are
just as enjoyable and a lot less risky.

- Interesting.
- Yes, it is.

One day, you'll discover that you like
a woman in a new, special way.

She'll become the woman of your life.

You'll be happy. You'll be cured.

So you want to cure me?

Admit that you only want
to save yourself.

No. I want to cure you
of your disease.

I'm not afraid of death.
I believe in reincarnation.

Hindu or Pythagorean?

- Hindu.
- That's interesting.

You must get over it.

You must free yourself from
your complexes and fears.

Have faith in your own virility.
Think how exciting that could be.

Think of the satisfaction of dominating
a woman with your male strength.

With your manly appeal.

Try to imagine the beauty
of love-making at liberty.

In a field,

on a beach, in a high grass,
in the water.

It can be wonderful in the water.

- When do we begin this cure?
- Even now.

It's a summer night.
Scent flowers from the garden.

The gate leads into
a dark, deserted park.

I'm waiting for the man I love.

I'm shivering from excitement.
I'm so happy.

He's coming up to me
and he's smiling at me.

I can feel his strong arms
holding me tight.

I'm tingling all over.

I'm light as a feather.
It's as if I've plotted out the world.

Enough.

The role of a romantic girl
doesn't suit you.

You're acting it out awfully bad.

You must find a sexual character.

More dynamic. More...

Forget it.

You'd better think of your afterlife
now that you're so close to it.

Think what you're going to be
in your new reincarnation.

A man? Yellow or black?
A Persian cat or a sewer rat?

A laughing hyena, perhaps?

No. You'll reincarnate to
a scorpion. Female, naturally.

A huge, voracious, deadly
female scorpion.

Shut a woman in there and she will
go mad and die in just a few hours.

I haven't tried it yet
but I guess it's quite amusing.

The victim can barely breathe

and can't make the slightest movement.

She can only roll her eyes.

By their expression, you can read all
the phases of madness, agony and death.

All that in a complete silence.

In an absolute immobility of the body.

No, please.

Don't be afraid.

I don't want you to try it on.

I've got another dress for you.

Something more comfortable.

Do you want to play something?

Let's hear it.

Go on. Don't stop.

You whore.

What's wrong?

Shut up.

No, please.
What are you going to do now?

Go ahead, kill me. Kill me.

I'd rather die now than go out of
my mind, waiting to be murdered.

What are you waiting for?

I can't stand it any more.
Do it.

Kill me.

Mary.

Come on, drink.

It'll do you good.

Another sip.

Good.

You have to move around.

Try to walk.

Come on.

Don't stop.

You must try harder.

That's right.

Keep waking.

Why didn't you let me die?

Don't be foolish.

- How do you feel?
- Better. I feel a little warm right now.

It's all over now.
I won't hurt you anymore.

That's what you say now
and you probably believe it.

But you'll kill me just as
you killed all those women.

I've never killed anyone.
The photos were all staged.

The blood was fake.

The victims, screaming...
It was all fake.

They're professionals.
They do it for money.

I normally spend the weekends
with one of them

so I can give vent to my manias.

I went off my head last night.

That was the first time
I'd ever kidnapped a woman.

I had a real victim in my hands.

For the first time,
it wasn't fiction, it was real.

You cannot even imagine
how exciting it was.

I could finally make
my obsession come true.

To kill a woman for real.

Just when...

I raised those scissors,

I felt I wouldn't...

ever be able to do it.

You know,

I like you better with the short hair.

Don't move.

Quick.

No, please. Not here.

You know how scorpions make love?

Just as they're about to reach the climax,
the female eats the male.

I saw it once when I was a boy.

I must've been 12 or 13.
I still remember it.

I thought they were fighting.

My father explained all to me.

It came as a terrible shock.
I picked up a rock...

and I pounded that
greedy female to a pulp.

I couldn't get that sight
out of my head.

I was convinced that
all women made love like that.

Eating the male.

Glad to see you again, sir.

Do you wish to go straight
to your table,

or the young lady would rather
visit the castle first?

I do want to look around.

The dwarves slept here.
They were the court jesters.

Look.

After you.

About 400 years ago, a duke lived here
and he was suffering from insomnia.

So, he'd call the dwarves
during the night.

They'd come through that passage
and they entertained him.

Somebody might come in.

Don't you worry.
Visitors never come up here.

We're lost. It isn't easy finding a way
out of all these rooms and corridors.

- We'd like to go to the restaurant.
- Come with me.

I love you.

Cats are keen on me.
They seem to know me.

Maybe they sense I love them.

Extraordinary creatures.
So beautiful, sensual, gentle...

And then suddenly they become
aggressive, dangerous.

When I was a girl,
I must have been 14 or 15,

a cat fell in love with me.
I mean it.

He looked at me with that
mysterious desire that cats have.

He came running up behind me
and suddenly leap on my shoulder,

purring and brushing his whiskers
all over my ears.

He had long whiskers,

incredibly sensual.

Whenever he found me in bed,
he almost made love to me.

You don't believe me?

Yes, of course.

He'd press his claws into my belly,
but softly, without hurting me.

He'd nuzzle his little nose
into my breasts, purring.

His eyes shut tight,
his whiskers all fingertips.

Cats feel with their whiskers, you know?

Did you know that?

Yes, I know.

He'd fan my legs with his tail,

trembling all over.

Can I take your order now?
An aperitif, to start with?

Hors d'oeuvres? We have
some very fresh oysters from Ostend.

For me, eggs tartare and
a little venison.

Royal pheasant à la Gonzaga.

Perfect.

Your order, sir?

Try to imagine the beauty
of love-making at liberty.

In a field,
on a beach, in a high grass,

in the water.

It can be wonderful in the water.

Think how exciting that could be.

The satisfaction of dominating
a woman with your virility,

with your manly appeal.

With your male strength.

One day, you'll discover that you like
a woman in a new, special way.

She'll become the woman of your life.

You'll be happy. You'll be cured.

I must get over it.

I must free myself from
my complexes and fears.

I must have faith in my male strength.

Are you satisfied?

Absolutely.
Word for word as you described it.

It wasn't a fair play game.

You knew what would happen to you,
before you even started.

It's true. I knew it.
Anyway, our man wasn't tough.

Now I've lost one of my best customers.

He was like the rest.

Don't worry. You'll find as many
men of that kind as you like.

They'll pay to beat you up and
humiliate you, just to feel superior.

Dreamers.

Don't be content with their money.

Learn to hit back and destroy them
at their own game.

You'll enjoy it.