All language subtitles for La storia di Lady Chatterley (1989)

THE STORY OF LADY CHATTERLEY

"My wish is Charles May,
Tom Miliuk and Arnold Hammond

to attend the reading,
but not the verses.

And at the reading of my will,
which, again, will be no fun for them.

Because of the favor with which
they have repeatedly accepted my invitations,

I leave to each of the gentlemen
a leaf from the park.

A poetic gift that I hope,
their noble souls will appreciate.

The aforementioned friends
will witness for the last time

of what I believed in my lifetime
and in death I reaffirm.

The only real healthy relationship
is that between a man and a woman.

I therefore designate as heir
of all that I possess,

my wife
Constance Reid Chatterley.

The only condition is
Constance has to stay to live here.

I declare that I am
in perfect mental health."

Signed: Sir Clifford Chatterley.
5 October 1924.

I think congratulations
are more appropriate than condolences.

Directed by
LAURENCE WEBBER

What were you thinking about?

Don't you remember?
- Maybe. He's risen quite a bit.

They say you're very
scandalous writer.

It means money and success,
right, dear Herbert?

From what I hear,
everything's going well for you, too.

Lovely, as always.
Then why did you call me?

Not me, poor Clifford.
- I wasn't mentioned in the document.

No Clifford wanted me to come.
The idea was yours.

I only took care
for his one little oversight.

He was so distracted,
always forgetting something.

To go to the front,
he forgot to consume our marriage.

And when he thought of it,
it was too late.

Too late.

Poor Clifford.
He only regained his memory.

Honestly, it wasn't much.
But after a bayonet shot

in the spine, was something.

He consoled himself with our mutual
sympathy. He began to write the long ones,

boring poems for the soul.
Like a path to eternity.

Two perfect halves,
but without a body.

Connie, you had a body.
I helped you find it.

I was the first.

Gorky! Five years ago I thought,
you were pretending to be kind.

It would have been fun, but it was pathetic.
- What do you mean?

I'm sorry to disappoint you.
I lost my virginity at 16.

with a German seminarian.

As it seems,
I have been presumptuous.

Rather naivety.
But don't be upset,

all men have this defect.

Including Clifford?
- He wasn't kidding about anything.

So he knew?!
- That I'm not a virgin? Yes.

And it made me feel frigid.
"We are above good and evil."

To force you to be faithful to him.
Is that so?

Herbert. Here was not the oasis of
of intellect as it seemed in your eyes.

Tom Miliuk, Charles May,
Arnold Hammond.

Literary critic, associate professor at
Oxford and a well-known comedian.

Like you, and they took advantage of the
Clifford's gifts and invitations.

In return they had to listen
his boring verses.

You only met them today,
but it's nice to have

a more complete picture of them.

And Minerva, the goddess exalted
of wisdom supreme.

The Apple of Olympus
immense grief, death everywhere sown.

Because of a fool's carnal lust.

That's wonderful, Clifford.
- Yes, indeed.

You look tired, Connie.

Gentlemen, I hope you will not
if I withdraw.

But please, my lady.

Good night, gentlemen.
- Good night.

Mutual sympathy, dear Herbert,
is not confined to spiritual intercourse.

Е?

Let's play with face-up cards!
What do you want to prove to me?

If you haven't figured it out yourself,
I can't explain it to you.

I must admit that Hammond
was a lot sharper than you.

Good day, my lady.

Excuse me, but this philosophy
is due to your disability, Clifford.

You're wrong. I admit that sex
isn't always an unpleasant incident,

but it may not be decisive for
mutual attraction in a couple.

If the spirit is strong, the flesh can be
the luxury of being very weak.

The spirit always prevails.
This is my deep conviction.

And if your wife takes a lover,
would you say the same?

I admit that Connie
can have his "accidents".

But our attachment is strong.
I will always be a part of her life.

I have not the slightest doubt about that.
- Is there?

Clifford was calling the sex,
as the medium calls

the ghost of a dearly departed.
With the same brilliant madness.

Come on!

The puppeteer pulls the strings
and the puppets dance.

He invents their desires
and they do manifest them.

As disgusting
they may be, they manifest them.

And he looks at them.

You can't drink
with the thirst of another.

Now we will make a
lovely party, Lady Chatterley.

Congratulations, Connie! The model wife
always submits to the husband.

Congratulations to you, Herbert.
You finally figured it out!

In the depths of incomprehensible sadness,

where fate decided to imprison me,
where no ray penetrates,

urged by hunger so piercing,
I boil and eat my heart.

From time to time a ghost comes,
filled with tenderness and radiance.

Her! A lover touches his beloved body,

of the most wonderful flower!

I love Baudelaire.

And I loved those breaks
of restorative boredom.

When everyone was leaving
and our home was dying.

Lady bowl and pop a spade
took off their masks

and finally endured without grief
the shortcomings of the bodies.

But one day
Clifford took that away from me too.

I was sure that Nicholas
would appeal to Charles May.

Nicholas is really attractive.
Too bad his preferences

are so obvious.
- Try to change them for him.

This is a worthy task
for Lady Chatterley.

Your tea, my lady.
- It will wait.

Now Lady Chatterley wants
to play with you, Nicholas.

This was the woman for whom the month
you thought you were gonna deflower.

So I was Clifford's plaything!

He wasn't my first man,
but the first spark, maybe.

It is to your credit that I realize,
that Clifford is limiting me.

And that feelings do exist.
- Connie, honey.

So it was different with me?
- Honestly,

in bed was even worse.
- How so?

It was different before.

You were in love with me. And you made me
to fall in love with your love.

Connie, I give you Mr. Lawrence,
a promising writer.

He will be our guest.
- I'm charmed, my lady.

Welcome, Mr. Lawrence.

For me, a celebration began,
like I was getting drunk on champagne again.

I experienced the pink novels with you,
I read at 15.

The flowers, the birds, the sunsets.
My valiant and brave hero!

Yes, nothing was missing.

Almost nothing.
But it wasn't a tragedy.

And in the pink novels
you only sleep in bed.

Or dream. Two things,
I could do on my own.

Come on, eat!

Have a nice walk!
- Who is this?

Mellers - our new forester.

It's getting cold, I want to get in.

You only have to see the fire to know,
it burns. Clifford is right about that alone.

Spare me the rest of the story.
It's the talk of London.

Talking doesn't mean you know.
- Sorry to disappoint you,

but you're wrong.
Everyone found out about your scandal!

From the finest salon
to the lowest brothel!

Is that where you go to write?
Gallant as always!

Forgive me, but I'm not like the horseman.
- He's a forester.

Admit it, Connie!
You only wanted to punish me!

The fault is mine! If I hadn't left you,
this wouldn't have happened!

If I had stayed,
you wouldn't have even noticed!

You felt betrayed!
Admit it!

What you know. What they know
in London about the real man.

What they know at all.

What do you know about his anger.

For his tenderness.

I spied the passion, Herbert.

I didn't know her.

I didn't know she was...

Everything.

And you, you little parlor worms,
what do you know about passion?

You turned it into a pink novel,
into an obligation, into intrigue!

Anything but that,
what love really is!

Yes, go back to the saloons and brothels!
The truth hurts!

Okay, now I know you hate me.
And that I was nothing to you.

And I never will be.
I came all the way from London.

It's worth finding out the rest.

I'm not running away, Connie. No.

What's up, Connie?
- Nothing.

Connie, tell me the truth.
- I'm fine, Clifford. Really.

No, thanks.
- And you're not going to eat tonight?

Did I ask you a question?
Are you with us again, darling?

I want you to sleep with me tonight.

Horses!

Connie, come back!

A gravedigger who grows worms.
That's what Clifford had become.

But I couldn't stand his dirty
games. I couldn't stand that body anymore,

which was vegetating like rotten algae.
I couldn't even pretend.

I had wanted the life, but always
I was chained to death.

Fortunately
life doesn't give up easily.

Life never gives up.

You have to shout! Come on!

So... More!

Yeah, right!

Mine.

It was hell.

I watched you secretly for days.

Your eyes, your mouth...
They were constantly in front of me.

I thought about them when I was with another.
But I didn't have you.

And now?

You're mine now, Lady Chatterley.
Whether you like it or not.

I'm trying to understand,
but I can't.

Aren't you afraid of getting dirty?

Am I that funny?

If you could see yourself.
Culture is buried in the mud

of a decent lady,
protecting herself with a white handkerchief.

You're funny, Herbert.
- One's funny, one's...

Say it, gather courage.

Е?

Then I will tell you something,
that your white handkerchief doesn't know.

Because she doesn't know,
that you right now

you don't think about your surroundings
and virtue.

No, poor thing, she doesn't.
You must tell her.

Tell her you're obsessed
on a black sock.

You're a slut, Connie!
- And you're a pig in disguise.

So we're queer.
- No. Because you really are a pig.

Now it's my turn to laugh.
- Do it if you want,

but put your handkerchief away first.
It got very dirty.

What have I done to you?
Why do you like humiliating me?

I don't want to humiliate you,
but just to show you,

that the real dirt lies in
thoughts. Passion never hides.

I want to give you everything.

Passion gives and takes without shame.

Passion is something simple.

Passion is love.

Always.

A very good and capable sister.

She took care of me
in the field hospital.

But this is your home, not a hospital.

You mean,
that you don't appreciate my gesture to you?

What does he mean? I don't understand.
- On the contrary.

Do not be afraid,
you don't have to be ashamed.

I prefer to pay
for a sister's disgust,

rather than endure grace
that of my wife.

To be heard in the salons of London
talk of Mrs. Bolton?

It seems to me no.
- Are you sure?

Yeah. Why are you asking me?
- Just out of pure curiosity.

Mrs Bolton.

We were expecting you. Did you have a good trip?
- Terribly, actually.

The war is over,
but the railways are not improving.

What will you love?
- Only roast beef.

You look well, Sir Clifford.
- Thank you, sir.

The proximity of your wife
has a rejuvenating effect.

She had been in for five minutes,
and it was like she was the mistress of the house.

He ignored me like a piece of furniture,
out of place.

But I had the strangest feeling,
that I was occupying most of her thoughts.

It's weird.
- What?

I was thinking about your letter.

If I'm not mistaken,
you want my help,

not to load unnecessarily
your fragile wife.

Well?

You are a very caring husband.

Lady Chatterley is the most vital
and contented woman I know.

And perhaps the most beautiful.

Excuse me, but I need
to unpack my bags.

If you don't mind,
I'll need your maid.

So long, Sir Chatterley.

Ma'am.

Well, Connie, what do you say?

He looks like a Prussian officer,
I was with before the war.

I assure you, Connie, you will not laugh,
when you get to know her.

Wait! Underwear first.

You have to be very careful.

Well, what is there?
- Ma'am, excuse me, but...

What? Come on, Emmy, tell me.
- I'm just asking for a little respect.

That's enough, whore, it's immediately obvious
what a commodity you are!

It's written all over your face.
- But whores get paid!

Or get fired.
Shall I go to Sir Clifford?

Come here.

You will see that you will like it.

Hold it right there.

Is there a problem?
Or do you want to replace it?

Careful, don't touch me again,
for it will be the last time.

Beautiful mouth.
But every thing in its time.

Well, Connie, are you still thinking,
she's a lot of fun?

So he's a dangerous type?
- Very.

And you did what?
- Nothing.

Isn't it?
- Were you expecting me to escape immediately?

Yeah.
- You're starting to think like Clifford.

Quite the same technique.
- I mean?

The game of cat and mouse.
Is it familiar to you?

I don't understand.
- It was very good.

One gesture, one reaction was enough for him.
- Really?

But then I surprised him.
I pretended there was nothing.

Why?
- Because Clifford was going to crush me.

As always before.

My love!
- Connie.

My love! My love!
We always have so little time.

When?
- I have to decide.

I recommend you
not to wait too long.

Mrs Bolton, keep to yourself
your filthy desires.

I can always satisfy them.
And you...

This paper cutter is quite sharp.

As if it were a dagger.
But if I stick it in your dead member,

you will not have the pleasure
even to cry out.

And pain is a luxury
for suckers like you!

You have to leave. It's getting late.
- No.

I want to stay a little longer
with little Thomas.

Can't you see he's asleep already?

Who knows, maybe he's dreaming.

Hey now I'll ask him.

Are you dreaming, little Thomas?

Yeah, seen Princess Jane!
- Okay, Connie.

Wake him up and take him to Jane.

How are you, my lady?
Did you enjoy the walk?

How strange.
You haven't plucked a single flower!

A decent ladies
always do.

But not those who get carried away
on "little Thomas."

Relax, I won't give you away.
I love secrets between women.

Let me go!
- Stop it, Connie.

The game went on too long.
You know why I was called.

Let me go!
- Be good. Don't be afraid.

And I don't want to divide you
with that larva your husband.

Leave everything to me.
You'll see how pleasant it is.

You're a real bitch.
I knew it as soon as I saw you.

Save your strength for the moment,
when you scream with pleasure.

My lady, what happened?
- You think yourself very clever,

but my husband can't be fooled.
If you plan to blackmail me,

and I can do the same with you.
- You are very stupid.

It will get worse with him.
You will regret it!

The fault is yours!
Shut your mouth! You will pay!

I don't know what punishment you gave him.
I was sorry that nobody

didn't care for poor Nicholas.
But there was nothing I could do.

And Miss Bolton?

He behaved towards me as he promised.

Here I am. Why did you call me?
- I insisted.

Sir Clifford is not pleased
with my care.

Everybody has their methods, my lady.
Show me yours.

Horses!

Clifford, please let me
to withdraw, I'm not feeling well.

Connie.

Have you experienced such pleasure
with that animal?

Don't kid yourself, Connie.
Nothing will ever be the same again.

There is no "little Thomas."
better than a woman's tongue.

Shall I stop her, Sir Clifford?
- No, I won't.

If you knew where it was going...
- Mrs. Bolton! I always knew.

Unfortunately,
larvae always know everything.

Your salary.
- What does that mean?

That you are fired.

I can retaliate very well.
I assure you that this story

will not remain between us,
Sir Clifford.

Mellers!

My love! Take me!

Take me right away.
- Yes, darling.

Mrs. Bolton's prophecy proved to be
as false as her womanhood.

We left the same day. Mellers lent me
his clothes. I was funny, but happy.

I left here without taking
my shoes and my dignity.

And this time?
- I can get my shoes now.

And that's a luxury.
- You won't give it all up!

How do you not understand that Clifford
is trying to tie me up again?

I feel sorry for him.
He really believed in our relationship.

I didn't expect him to be so naive.
Even more than you.

Why from me?
- Are you sure,

that you don't know Mrs. Bolton?
- I already told you that...

You must have offered her some, otherwise
she would have helped you blackmail me.

Damn bunch!
- Did you need three years,

to write such nonsense?
Poor Mrs. Bolton!

Who knows how hard she tried
to describe her ordeal to you here.

And here's a middle-aged pimp.
You can't treat the ladies like that.

And Clifford wouldn't thank you,
if he found out you turned him

into a pathetic provincialist.
But you've described yourself perfectly.

Exotic name, you have become
A misunderstood genius, a desperate lover.

You must really like it,
only you see yourself that way.

But the most interesting are me and Mellers.

Two concubines from vaudeville
don't make me laugh so much.

I finally understood why you made me
to come. You wanted revenge.

Right? Why?
You can post it whenever you want.

But I want to see, after learning
the truth, will you call things

with their real names. I doubt it.
Not even the title.

Actually, I took the liberty of correcting him.

I'm terribly smug, Herbert.

Goodbye, dear.

You are so pathetic and miserable,
you don't even make me angry.

I'm curious. With Mrs. Bolton where are
met? In a saloon or a brothel?

"Lady Chatterley's Lover"

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