All language subtitles for The.Forbidden.Room.2015.LIMITED.720p.BluRay.X264

Hello. I'm Marv.

Today we're gonna
discuss baths.

More specifically,
how to take one.

Baths have been around
for a long time.

The ancient Romans
built fancy ones,

like Caracalla.

In the Middle Ages
they were called stews,

because you had to be stewed
in order to take one.

They were open
to both sexes.

Today the Japanese
have bisexual bathing.

Here in America we didn't
bathe so much until recently.

The Saturday night bath
used to be a ritual.

Today it's more like
every other day

or... even every day.

How do I know this?

People have told me.
That's how.

Start drawing your bath

until it gets to
the temperature you want.

Meanwhile,
remove clothing.

Carefully insert your big toe
in the waters.

This will tell you
if it's too hot or too cold.

Hopefully
it'll be just right.

Once in the tub,
start soaping.

Start with the armpits

and work down
to the genital area.

Work carefully
in ever-widening circles.

Breathing, breathing.

In short, gentlemen,

because of
the destabilization

the blasting jelly
has become depressurized...

All 500 pounds of it.

The only thing

that keeps it from going off
and destroying us all

is the 50 fathoms of ocean
pressure above our heads.

If we were to rise
any higher,

we'd be blown to Nep...

We haven't surfaced
in months.

We need food.

-We need oxygen.
-We should tell the captain.

No. No!

He hates

to be bothered.

But this is important!

Let's make a break
for it!

Let's head for the surface
and hope for the best!

Are you mad?

We'd be blown
to Neptune's daughters!

We are doomed anyway!

Is it really so mad?

Two days. Forty-eight
hours of oxygen.

Breathing.

Breathing, breathing.

Why always flapjacks?

I told you,

there are air pockets
in the batter

of these flapjacks.

Our oxygen will last
almost twice as long

with these babies.

No. Leave it.
Leave it! Leave it!

He's wet!

Why...
this is freshwater!

If he got in,

maybe we
can get out.

How did you... Wh...
How did you get here?

I can't remember.

I was in a forest.

I saw... a woman.

-Who is this man?
-Why, that's our captain.

I know him.

Twelve hours.

In just 12 little hours...

Breathing, breathing,

breathing,

breathing,
breathing,

breathing.

Wait! Maybe we shouldn't
bother the captain after all.

We're the jelly boys.

Our place is here in the back,
protecting the jelly.

What the stuff is
I couldn't tell you,

but it's our job
to take care of it.

Should he be here?

Should be in the forest.

Four men in the forest,

as the old bard wrote in one
of his lesser-known plays,

trying to rescue
a kidnapped woman.

They can't agree on anything.

Or so the story goes.

Now see here, boys.

I know we've been rivals
for Margot in the past.

This is an emergency.

We must put aside
all the dirty tricks

we've been happy to play to
each other and work together.

Yes,
but the Red Wolves...

The most feared forest bandits
in all of Holstein-Schleswig.

Yes, I know, but we can't let
that stop us. They have Margot.

And who knows
what they're doing to her.

We are aspiring lumberjacks.
Strong men.

Saplingjacks
are four fine here standing.

We know a hundred more
woodmen in these parts.

We all have our axes
and our brawn.

We just have to
get together and attack.

We can get her back and put an end
to these Wolves once and for all!

I can make a list of all
the lumberjacks we could ask.

We have no time for lists!

I can go to the various camps
and see if anyone's interested,

see how many people we can get.

Make sure you tell them that it's Margot
that's missing. She's so beautiful.

There's bound to be
more volunteers

if they know they're going
into the forest for Margot.

No. No questions.
No surveys.

We go now. We crush the Red
Wolves and we get Margot.

I can't go. I can't come.
I-I-I'm...

I would... I want to,
but I-I-I-I can't.

I'll come. I just have to finish the cord.
It'll take two minutes.

Then I'll come with you, even
if it's just the two of us.

I love Margot, and I resent
you suggesting I don't.

They say the Red Wolves
have fled to Mergel's Cave.

Fled?

Look!
A model of Mergel's Cave!

We can use it
to make a plan!

Which one of you is Wolf?

I am... Wolf.

You are Wolf,
the leader of the Red Wolves?

Yes, I am
their leader.

But who are you that risks his life
to ask such an obvious question?

I am Cesare, and I'm not
worried about risks.

I seek to join your men
and serve you.

How do you expect to
earn a robber's trust?

Obey you. Obey you.

Obey you.

Then obey me now.

Starting now,

every night you must perform a
task exactly as I describe it.

Terrifying ordeals

that have winnowed the
weaklings from our number

since the days
of my father.

If you pass through
this terrifying ordeal,

you will then
earn the right...

But only then...

To rob by my side

and wear the pelt
of the Red Wolves.

I'm ready
for your worst.

-Yeah!
-Yeah!

You have earned
our trust and devotion.

Welcome,
brother wolf.

Saplingjack,
return tomorrow night

and move that rock

from there to here.

And return
the night after that

and drink the boiling water
from this cauldron.

And again the night after

to challenge this gazelle
to a foot race.

Wouldn't that be a test
more worthy of the Red Wolves?

Yes, saplingjack.

Tomorrow night,

and night after night
till you've earned our trust.

And I'll tell you
when you've earned it.

In the meantime,

daybreak comes.

Sleep among us if you will,

but not with us.

Come to sleep.

I don't
understand you.

You beg me to come meet you
here, you need to talk,

and then you make me
wait for hours?

A man could easily
kill you.

Ladies and gentlemen,
put your hands together

for...

Good evening. Thanks very much.
My name is...

Got a little song for you.
Goes something like this.

Master!

Master!

Thank you!
You've been a great audience.

See you next time, everybody.
Drive carefully. Good night.

You know
I love you anyway.

See, now, that's a story.

As for what's going on here
in this submarine,

I don't know what it is,
but it makes me nervous.

Hey, you know
the old joke...

What's the difference between a woman
in a bathtub and a woman in church?

Give you a clue.

The woman in church
has hope in her soul.

Be careful about passing gas
when you're in the bathtub.

It doesn't just go away.

Look. He hasn't even
eaten his flapjacks.

He is not here.

Everything's chained
and locked.

We shouldn't be in here.

His mother's room.
He sleeps there sometimes.

The fights they have!

It's an old struggle
with scars on both sides.

Hot magma
flows between them,

for the whole earth
is not solid,

but everywhere
gaping and hollowed

with empty rooms and spaces

and hidden burrows.

Let's get that parachute
on you!

Sorry about that.

Who are you? Go!

Dream, volcano.
This is for you.

Fish.

Fowl.

Psst. Psst.

Tire.

Hip necklace.

Sweet tapioca.

"Gardener boy sought."

Is good for me.

What you do hear?

Why can't I tell you something
that you will actually remember?

Nothing is ever the past.

He has past.

Yes.

No!

No, I...

No!

Devil! Devil! Devil!

Devil! Devil! Devil!

Knock, knock, knock.

Devil!

Please accept
my most humble apologies,

poor, beleaguered

Devil!

-And most lovely fellow traveler.
-Devil! Devil!

I am Deane. Dr. Deane.

Train psychiatrist.

And I'm afraid that the man
who is disturbing your peace

with those unearthly howls

Devil!

Is my responsibility.

He is my patient.
Quite mad.

And I am taking him on
to Bogotá.

I assure you...

he is harmless.

Though I'm sure it doesn't seem
so to a young lady like you.

I just wanted to...

I've come to offer you
sanctuary.

My compartment
in the next car

is as quiet as a...

Devil! Devil!

-Humidor.
-Devil!

And,

I would feel so much better
if we traded.

I could be closer
to my patient.

You could have
the peace you deserve.

On the return trip
to Berlin,

the train will be
as your garden.

No madman, I promise.

Devil! Devil! Devil!

I've lost my childhood?

You were...

robbed of it.

After careful listening,

thoughtful...

and meticulous
reconstruction

and everything only I can

bring to bear
in our professional,

and so much more
than professional

friendship,

I must now insist
that you close your eyes...

and await

what next I will

reveal to you

as...

most...

pleasantly euphoric

surprise...

of your young,

young...

life.

I present you...

your inner...

child.

It's okay.

Stop. Stop.

There, there.

I'm afraid I must tell you,
prisoners, boys,

that you all suffer from an
extremely rare form of amnesia,

an illness that leaves
your memory unaffected

but which nevertheless affects the
memories of your friends and families.

You may find yourselves totally
forgotten when you return home.

It is called
pan-fallopian neglect amnesia.

There is little hope
for a cure.

What should I do?

Doctor. Doctor.

Other side of the mill.

Hello!

Aha.
So we have caught you.

You thought you would get
away, but you did not!

You will face the justice
of the volcano.

Beautiful volcano.

To liberate, volcano,
dream the molten dream

of justice.

Dream, volcano.

Dream!

Volcanoes are nothing
but the vent holes

for breath pipes of nature
to give vent

to the superfluous
choking fumes

and smoking vapors

which fly upwards.

Hey. Did you ever hear the one about
the man who checked into a hotel room

and got into the tub
and farted?

The bellhop heard him, and brought
him a bottle of beer on a tray.

The man said,
"Hey, I didn't order that."

The bellhop said,
"You did too.

I distinctly heard you say, 'Bellboy,
bring me a bottle of Bud.'"

Is she alive?

I-I can't tell.

Check her pulse.

Master!

Hello!

He's not here.

One hour left.

No more talking, just...

breathing.

Breathing... breathing...

breathing... breathing...

breathing...
breathing... brea...

Wait! I haven't finished
telling you.

The forest. The snow.

The convict. The birthday.

Why do you stand
with your eyes skyward?

I've shot an arrow,

and I'm waiting
for it to reappear.

Forget your arrow. I am without
a companion. Come with me.

I will come.

Why do you tie these great
rocks to your ankles?

I wish to chase buffalo,

yet every time I do,
I go beyond them,

and so I'm tying
these stones to my feet

so that I may not
run so fast.

My friend,
you can run some other time.

Come with us.

What for do you listen
so earnestly?

Forest is full of stone,

and I'm listening
to its breathing.

It whispers too.

The ice has stories to tell.

A long time ago...

You know I love you anyway.

Let's go to your place.

Hello!

Le cygne.

The guitar turtle.

The Chihuahua.

Happy birthday, darling.

You remembered.

Yes.

Look.

I know you always admired my
taste, so this is for you.

I looked everywhere... the city,
the country, high and low...

And built a special collection
that is the identical of mine.

The Chihuahua.
The guitar turtle.

The boar heads. Le cygne.
The embalmed flowers.

It was quite a task
to find exact duplicates.

But where is your boar's head?

What?

And your Chihuahua.

Thad, I don't get it.

It's all gone!

-It's been stolen!
-What?

Those miserable thieves!

-It's all right.
-Miserable thieves!

What's going on here?
Are you all right?

Miserable thieves!

Come on! Come on.

Sorry. Did you steal
my boar's head?

I didn't steal anything, sir.

Yes, but my wife
will think that you did.

Sir, I did not.

Sir!

I lean in close,

and she runs
the peaks of her fingers

along the dry strings
of my mustache.

And all I say

is yes, no,

maybe.

Are you hungry?

Yes.

No.

Enjoy your breakfast.

Yes.

Would you like to listen
to your program?

Would you? Is it time for
your favorite program?

Yes.

I heard it on the radio itself,

the wars
that tore the planishings.

You're lying.

I do not lie.

You would shoot
at your own shadow,

or voices in the woods.

We shoot
whether we like it or not.

We have a lot
to shoot with.

We draw blood from you and cut
out all the scars of your past.

Go ahead. Condemn.

You cannibals.

We will
cut them loose.

Look. You cry.

That's right.

Why are you crying?

You dare to cry.

I can see your tears.

Curse you.

Quietly. Quietly.

Into a trance you're born,
right before your own eyes.

I don't want to talk to you.
Let me alone.

I want to think
before I die.

The world is ours.

Not ours.

No.

Maybe.

No.

Yes.

No.

No.

Yes.

I was the junior
chargé d'affaires,

not yet the master
of myself,

in consular service
at the town of B...,

a young man of light consigned
to a dark, dark outpost,

when one day I found myself upon
the threshold of an antique shop.

I have a present for you.

How thrilling.

It's heavy.

Let me open it.

Why does it have
two faces?

It is the god Janus.

I've never heard of him.

He is the god
of thresholds.

But of course,
not only thresholds, no.

Thresholds, yes,
but many other things besides.

He is the god of beginnings,

of transitions,
of gates and doors.

He looks into the past
and into the future.

He is the god
of two-sided coins.

The month of January
is named in his honor.

He presides over the sun,
the moon, over bridges

and time and movement.

When drawn bridges unfurl for an
arriving procession of noble explorers,

when gates un-gate at the beck
of a charitable king's whim,

when... when time moves on,
all of time ticking,

it is Janus, Janus, Janus,
the motive force.

Always facing frontward and
back, north and south,

defiantly facing
Notos and Boreas.

Yes!

With a quick pivot
east and west too,

the sun's fanfare
and refuge.

He is...
that kind of god.

When omens caution,

when auspices beckon,

it is Janus we praise.

Certain traditions have

Simon Peter
guarding heaven's gate.

But no.

Such heavenly keeping

is the work of Janus.

It's ugly
and frightening.

Take it away, please.

I brooded over
Jane's rejection of my gift

and plunged myself
into a brown study over Janus,

that great god.

God's the terminus
of the ways of the road.

Master of time.

Convulsed into a monster
by the Janus bust,

I was now Lug-Lug,
hideous impulse incarnate.

I called at Jane's,
the scene of my cruel crime,

hoping she had somehow
recovered from,

or even forgotten,
the previous night's attack.

Sewing.

Stitching.

Darning. Mending.

Sweeping.

Scrubbing. Washing.

I'll give you 200 for it.

All right, do I have 200?
I have two... 200? I have 200.

225. I have... Do I have 250 for
this excellent two-faced Roman...

250. I have 250.
325 right here.

325. I have 325.

375, ladies and gentlemen.
375 for this sculpture.

You're not gonna see a second one
like this for years to come.

From the bowels of hell!
Now what?

No, no, no. 375.

To further complicate matters,
my own double...

Of all people...
Arrived at the night auction

to bid against me
for the Janus bust.

500. Do I have 500? No...
500! 500!

Do I hear 525?
Five... 525.

550? I have 550.

575. I have 575. 600!
I have 600.

625?
I have 625. 650?

I'm looking for 650.
625.

Going once. Going twice.
Three times.

And the god is sold.

I won back the unhallowed
trophy from my double.

Soundly thrashed
in the bidding,

the repulsive duplicate wandered
off to God knows where.

Irked at his very existence,
I compelled myself to stalk him

as Lug-Lug!

Wait. Before you do
what you must do...

For I'm sure
you have your reasons...

Allow me one word
in my own defense.

Not because I deserve any, for I am sure
whatever it is you think I have done,

I have done it 10 times
worse than you even know.

But please, allow me
one short story

by way of illustrating
your own convictions.

Preparing to spend
the night at H...,

on my way through
southern T...,

I engaged a horse groomsman to currycomb
the fatigue from my Dutch Gelderlander,

which I had that day
ridden hard.

At the threshold of the stables,

the ostler accosted me
with a tale.

Just four birthdays ago...

-I'm sorry, sir.
-I haven't the time this evening.

-My mother...
-Step aside, I beg you.

One night I was sent
for her medicine.

Ostler!

At the pharmacist's,
I met her.

Felicia.

I felt she needed my help.

She asked for laudanum.

The druggist tossed her
out on the street.

I gave her half
Mother's laudanum,

Mother, I have it.

I have it.

Be quiet.

It's your birthday,
little ostler.

Have you anything
you want to tell me?

No, Mother. No.

You should
take some more.

And then I have her three-quarters
of Mother's laudanum

and filled the rest
with water.

Breathing... breathing...

breathing... breathing...

breathing...
breathing...

And then I have her
all of Mother's laudanum

and gave my mother water.

Thank you for listening.

Please,

get on with it.

Self-mastery at last!

One moment, please.

Come in.

The Minister
of the Interior.

Well, no. Yes.
This is not my fault.

There's an explanation,
clearly.

Don't you see? I...

He... She tried
to murder me!

She tried to strangle me
with her blouse.

And this butler...
It was his idea.

He organized everything.

Please!

No!

No! Aaah!

Surprise!

Aswang.

You have never been baptized.

I can help you.

Such is the tale
of the snow.

You may listen again
when the occasion arises.

Come and join us.

What's the meaning
of this?

I found you.

The captain's daughter.

My only memory.

Dreams.

Visions.

Madness!

Breathing...

breathing...
breathing...

breathing... breathing...

Once you're done,

you wanna dry yourself
on a big, fluffy Turkish towel.

The Turks were heavily
into baths too,

hence the expression, "Hoo! It's
like a Turkish bath in here."

Now, you probably want to
curl up with a nice book,

or maybe get together
with a special someone

who, hopefully, will have bathed
too in the fairly recent past.

Whatever. Enjoy.

That's what bathing
is all about,

in spite of what you may
have heard to the contrary.

Have a nice day.