All language subtitles for Damned If You Don t

This is the good nun.

She's being appointed Mother Superior
of a new convent set high in the Himalayas.

She's told that she'll have to work
with a certain Mr. Dean, the local agent.

He writes a letter of warning:

The wind blows seven days a week,

the convent was once a palace
for the general's concubines,

and the highest peak
is called the Bare Goddess.

Other nuns are assigned
to accompany her:

A gardener, a cheerful one,

a strong one and a bad one.

The good nun, being good,
doubts the intentions of the bad nun.

She's reminded that she herself
might not make a good Mother Superior

and she's told, "Work them hard and remember:

the superior of all
is the servant of all."

And so their new life
atop the Bare Goddess begins.

And they do work hard,
day and night,

bringing aspirin and the English language
to Indian peasants.

However, the bad nun doubts
the peasant's abilities to learn anything.

The good nun disagrees.

They discuss their differences.

Finally, the good nun
and Mr. Dean get acquainted.

Hitherto unsuspected emotions arise.

But things aren't going well
for the new Mother Superior.

The wind's constantly howling,
the plumbing's broken,

and the bad nun's got boils
on her hands and can't sleep.

In a conversation with the strong nun,
Mr. Dean's name comes up.

"Maybe he could help?"

"I think not."

But there's a certain inevitability
about Mr. Dean.

She asks him why the local people
can't be more disciplined,

which somehow raises the question of
whether or not she likes children.

And now, an interesting
moral dilemma and a chance

for the bad nun and Mr. Dean
to meet coincide:

the bad nun saves the life a peasant.

If the peasant had died, the very existence
of the convent would have been jeopardized.

She gets no thanks from the good nun,
but Mr. Dean is grateful and shows it.

Now the gardening nun has a problem:

it seems you can see too far here.

The good nun suggests that she work until
she's too tired to think of anything else,

and that they pray together.

The good nun tries to pray alone,

but suddenly remembers an engagement
present from her grandmother.

Sometimes the bad nun gets up earlier
than usual to ring the bell.

The good nun doesn't sleep late either.

Neither does Mr. Dean.

But the sound of the bell
lifts their hearts once again to God.

After the Christmas service, the good nun
explains to Mr. Dean that he's drunk.

"If you have a spark of decency left in you,

you won't come near us again!"

He goes off singing:

"No I won't be a nun,

no I shall not be a nun,

for I am so fond of pleasure,

I cannot be a nun."

The bad nun has begun to agree with him,
so the good nun calls her in for a chat.

They discuss whether a fondness for pleasure
might preclude being a nun.

Suddenly, the bad nun
dispenses with theory

and accuses the good nun
of wanting Mr. Dean herself.

Feigning coolness,
she dismisses the bad nun

and tries working until
she's too tired to think of anything else.

And now, another crisis:

a baby dies while under their care
and the nuns' lives seem to be in danger:

Call Mr. Dean!

They forgive him for arriving naked,
given the state of emergency.

The good nun is finally falling apart.

He insists that they all leave
before something terrible happens.

Something terrible happens:

The bad nun has become a bad woman.

Her dress is red, to match her lips.

That same night,
she descends the Bare Goddess

to the home of Mr. Dean.

She loves him.

He doesn't love her.

He asks her to go home and be a good girl.

She agrees to go back.

"No I won't be a nun..."

"Oh, and I remember one nun,
Sister Elsa, 7th grade...

She loved to talk
about sex

to this room full of girls and boys,
twelve to thirteen years old....

When she was supposed to be talking
about religion, she was talking about sex!

She would tell us about the...
the uh...

what actually...the anatomical...
uh... what was done.

She even brought this guy
from Cook County Hospital to give us a talk,

and he had all these charts
and he was drawing these penises

and vaginas and uteruses
on the board and

we were so... I was so...

I didn't know what to do!
I mean, we're all sitting there like, hmm,

what're we supposed to do about this?"

Thanks be to you, oh God
for this day of days,

when all the world seems
filled with light and hope

and trembling with an expectation
it cannot quite name.

We praise you that out of darkness and despair
you have brought something new to our world

with the resurrection of Jesus Christ.

Bring it in us too, oh God, and make this
a day of resurrection for all of us -

a day of new beginnings and of new life.

We confess that many Easters
have come and gone

and we've celebrated them but felt
no sense of resurrection in our lives.

We have felt the excitement
of Christ's resurrection

but have failed to connect it with our own.

And on Monday we go back to the same
old lives we've known before.

Help us to break out of
this pattern, oh God.

Help us to experience your newness
and to live with a daily vision of

what our existence could mean
in the light of your purposes for us.

Resurrect in us some new hope,

some new behavior,
some new dream.

Sister Benedetta was the Abbess
of a convent in Italy.

From 1619-1623 she was under investigation

for alleged misconduct.

After the trial she spent 35 years
in a prison within the convent,

where she finally died.

One of the nuns implicated
in the scandal was Sister Crivelli,

who lived with her.

She testified against Sister Benedetta
and managed to escape punishment.

What follows is some of her testimony.

Because Sister Benedetta
was in pain at night...

Oh shit, I did my toe,
so let me do it again.

I don't know why I pop my toe,
I never realized I did...

Because Sister Benedetta
was in pain at night,

I went to stay with her
in order to help her.

She had violent pains in her heart
and often throughout her entire body.

She would ask me to put
my hands on her heart,

because she seemed to feel
less pain that way,

and while my hand was there,
it felt as if a dagger were hitting it.

When she had the pains, she moaned softly
and kept her mouth closed...

Yea, but see, you're not going
to say "kept her mouth closed".

Oh, I'm sorry, I thought I was supposed to say
that whole sentence then...

I can still do it,
but I can't I just start with...?

Yea, after "a dagger were hitting it" you can say...

Okay...

I should say "a dagger were hitting it"?

-No.
-Okay...

When she had the pains, she moaned softly
and kept her mouth closed.

I would often work so hard
that I would sweat.

The pains lasted two years,
for 9 or 10 hours a night,

but during the day
she did not have them.

On the second night of Easter,
her heart was removed by Jesus.

I was present and heard her say,

"I see Jesus approaching,
but it might be the devil's work -

pray for me."

Shortly thereafter
she began to laugh

and became all happy
and spoke to him.

Then she laid down on her back
and suffered a great deal of pain

and I heard her say,

"Oh my Jesus, show it to me.
Yes, that is it.

No wonder I felt such pain."

And then she said,
"How can I live without a heart now?

How will I be able to love you?"

Say that more as a question.

Instead of...a statement?

"How can I live without a heart now?!"

-Well why not?
-Really?

You know, I just had a funny idea that

Sister Crivelli said this
millions of times too.

At a certain point, she was
just reading the fucking testimony!...

And I saw all these things
because I was hiding beside the bed.

I realized that she was not herself
because she seemed like one who dreams.

Then I went to her and put my hand
on the side of her heart,

and there seemed to be a hole there.

She remained lying there...

I think I should just say
"there seemed to be a hole".

Because now it's awkward to say

"she remained lying there"
in the hole...

Right, that's true...

She remained lying there,
apparently out of her senses.

I made the sign
of the cross and knew

that for God it is possible
to live without a heart.

She was without her heart for three days,

and I was present
when Jesus put it back in.

I had gone to see if she needed anything
but she said I should go to bed.

I didn't want to leave
and indeed I couldn't leave,

feeling as if I were being held.

I pulled the curtain of her bed
and placed myself behind it

and shortly thereafter
I heard her say,

"Oh my bridegroom, did you come
to give me back my heart?"

And she remained thus,
a bit quiet.

Then she opened her arms
and cried out,

"My Jesus don't show it to me
because I will lose my sight,"

and she turned her head
in the other direction,

saying that it was so beautiful
that she couldn't look at it.

Then I heard her say,

"Put it back in the same place
you took it from."

And she uncovered her side
and I saw that

it was larger and redder
than at other times.

Then when he put the heart inside her,

I began to see
that the flesh rose up,

and she moved slowly...
slowly...

and all the ribs which
I could see were lifted up.

It was so large that one
could see it would never fit,

and it raised her flesh.

And when it arrived at the place
where the heart belongs, it stopped.

And she turned slowly
with her forehead bent down

and the heart re-entered its place.

Then she covered herself up again,

but before she did I touched it,

and it felt so large and so hot

that my hand could not stand it.

And I heard her say,

"Oh my Jesus,
what greater gift could you give me

than to have given
my your own heart?"

And she was completely happy.

While I was there watching,
I did not have any fear,

but rather felt deep contentment.

But, yea, definitely, I think growing up
Catholic has a lot to do with it....

I remember I had this affair...

well, actually I lived with him,
for about a year,

with this guy,
and every time...

I mean, it's not that
I didn't want to have sex - on the contrary,

I did, but every time I did,
it was like, well, I kept hoping,

'Well, this time
it's going to be different.

Let me keep doing it till I get it right or something.'

I would just, like,
split out of my body...

I would be... my spirit or something
would be sitting over there

watching all of this going on.

I could not stay in my body
and perform this sexual act...

But I never told anybody
except my therapist.

I said, 'Well, you know,
I can split off,'

and she said,
'What do you mean by that?'

and I said 'Well, if things get
too rough I can just sort of go away

and I'll sit over there
and watch all of this going on.'

I think it also has to do
with not feeling safe,

and if you're in a situation...
at least with me,

if I'm in a situation
where I don't feel safe

and if I can't physically
get out of the situation,

I'll just open the door
and let the spirit out.

Can you still say the Hail Mary
and the Our Father?

-Yes.
-Okay, say them.

Okay. Hmm...

Hail Mary, full of grace,
the Lord is with thee.

Blessed art thou amongst women
and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.

Holy Mary, mother of God,
pray for us sinners

now and at the hour
of our death, Amen.

Our Father, who art in heaven,
hallowed be thy name.

Thy kingdom come,
thy will be done,

on earth as
it is in heaven.

Give us this day
our daily bread

and forgive us our trespasses,

as we forgive those
who trespass against us...

I say it every Sunday,
God, I can't remember it!...

Hmm... For thine is
the kingdom and the power...

I could sing it!
...and the power and the glory,

forever, amen...
something like that...

Okay, sing it.

I'd like to hear it, because
I don't know how it is in music.

...And lead us not into temptation,

but deliver us from evil,

for thine is the kingdom,

and the power, and the glory,

forever, Amen.

For two continuous years,
at least three times a week,

after disrobing and going to bed,

Sister Benedetta would wait
for me to disrobe also

and then call me over for help.

When I would come over,
she would grab me by the arm

and throw me
by force onto the bed.

She embraced me,
put herself on top of me,

and kissing me
as if she were a man,

she would speak
words of love to me.

And she would stir
on top of me so much

that both of us corrupted ourselves.

And thus by force she held me,
sometimes for one

or two or even three hours.

And she did these things
during the most solemn hours,

especially at dawn.

Sister Benedetta, in order to
have greater pleasure,

put her face between my breasts
and kissed them

and wanted always
to be thus on me.

Also at that time, during the day,
pretending to be sick,

she grabbed my hand by force
and putting it under herself

she would have me
put my finger on her genitals,

and holding it there

she stirred herself so much
that she corrupted herself.

And she would kiss me and also by
force would put her hand under me

and her finger in my genitals
and corrupted me.

And when I would flee,

she would do the same
with her own hands.

Many other times she locked me in the study
and making me sit down in front of her,

by force she put her hands
under me and corrupted me.

And up to twenty times
she kissed my genitals by force.

She always appeared to be
in a trance while doing this.

Her angel, Splenditello,
was really the one doing these things,

appearing as a boy of
eight or nine years of age.

Splenditello called me his beloved;

he asked me to swear
to be his beloved always

and promised that
after Benedetta's death

he would always be with me
and would make himself visible.

He said, "I want to you to promise me
not to confess these things

we do together.

I assure you that
there is no sin in it."

And many times
he said to me,

"Give yourself to me
with all your heart and soul

and then let me do as I wish."

Jesus also spoke to me
through Benedetta several times.

The first time, he said
that he wanted me to be his bride.

At another time,
it was in the church,

and he held my hands
together and told me

that there was no sin
involved whatsoever

and that Benedetta
while doing these things

had no awareness of them.

All these deeds I confess
with very great shame.

Oh, I remember this one,

Sister Carol,

oh, she didn't go by 'Sister',
you just called her Carol.

She was the head
of the drama department

and senior year
I was in "Godspell",

and oh, she was wonderful...

God, I used to get
all these crushes on these nuns,

I can't believe it!

Before, I used to remember
all the awful parts,

but now I'm remembering

all the wonderful parts!

She and Sister Carmel...

they still do...
they have this white house...

they don't live in where
the other nuns live,

they have their own house
on the campus

and Sister Carmel is
head of the Art Department.

They have to be lovers....

I mean there's no...

I mean especially when they're at parties
and they start drinking and

they get really friendly with each other...
so you know.

Oh, she was wonderful,
I loved her."

And, oh, there was this other nun,
Sister Mineev,

who taught music lit.

Oh, she was wonderful.
She left the convent that year,

and I still remember the stuff
that she taught me.

She was the first one who said,
'You have to rely on your own instincts;

you know a lot more
than you think you do.'"