All language subtitles for The.Beautiful.Prisoner.1983.FRENCH.1080p.BluRay.H264.AAC-VXTThe.Beautiful.Prisoner.1983.FRENCH.1080p.BluRay.H264.AAC-VXT

It was a wasted night
just like other ones.

I was in between strangers
who would pretend

to dance, to laugh and whose
shadows would appear

like a shaky tango.

I was alone.

I don't remember how long
or what I'd been waiting for.

I felt empty, translucent.

I was one too many amongst
those fake dancers.

I might have drank
too much to kill time.

The organization wasn't giving me anymore
work as if they were suspicious.

I was... useless... I was waiting.

I'll have a tomato-vodka please.

You mean a Bloody Mary?

Yes Sir.

I was watching without
thinking of anything.

There was a pretty blonde girl laughing in the
nightclub I've never seen before,

even though most of the nights
I ended up there.

The slightly drunk stranger
was flirting with me.

I thought why not.

I had nothing to lose.

I don't have a name.

I'm sorry. I lost it.

I'll let you know if I find it.

I have a phone but it's not working.

Nobody can call me.

You'll hear: "The number you called
is not in service."

I'll find you if I need to.

Maybe tonight.

Maybe never.

Or maybe yesterday.

Time doesn't exist for me.

What is this horrible thing
you're drinking?

No.

No, she didn't want to tell her name.

No, she didn't want to give me
her phone number.

No address. No first name.
No last name.

She was making fun of me.

I was wasting my time.

I was wasting my time.

Then Sara called me.

Are you Walter Raim?

Yes.

Somebody is on the phone for you.

Thank you.

Yes, boss.

Ok, boss.

Ok.

You got it, boss.

In 15 minutes, same place,
at the crossing of the graves.

No, I'll go from there.
I don't need to go back home.

I don't need to go home or anywhere,
because nobody was waiting for me.

I was free.

It was the one condition
the agents ask for,

even for the juniors who work
for the organization.

Have no relationship,
of any kind,

and be able to leave at anytime.

Yes, boss.

Goodbye, boss.

While I was on the phone,
my beautiful partner disappeared,

and I had no way to get
in touch with her ever again.

However Sara Zeitgeist was waiting
for me with new orders,

and unfortunately I had no choice.

Hello Walter.

Good evening boss.

Do you know Henri de Corinthe?

The senator?

Yes, from the old majority.

You must meet him,
as soon as possible.

You have to find an excuse.

Any excuse.

Alright boss.

Tonight if you can.

It's an emergency.

Somebody is in danger?

In a way. Yes.

You'll give him this letter and make sure
he opens it in front of you.

Does he need to give you an answer?

It would be better for him.

Bye.

Good luck.

I'm driving at night again.

The trees are lit with the headlights of the car,
and they look like they suck you in.

I turned the Fifteenth Quartet on again.

To Sir Count Henri of Corinthe.

Are you hurt?
Can you hear me?

Do you have anything broken?
Do you understand what I'm saying?

If you understand and you can't talk,
give me a sign with your eyes,

or your mouth.

I'll help you get up.

Do you think you can walk?

I'll take you to a doctor.

What's that?
I'll take them off later.

You're safe now.

Let's get in the car.

I'll take care of you first.

After a long drive that flew by
like a dream

I finally saw the gate of a house
with lights on.

Wait here.

A woman is injured in my car.

Please let me in to make a phone call.

Here you go.
You're safe now.

You should go lay down
and wait for the doctor.

Good evening gentlemen.

Excuse me, I'm looking for a phone
to call a doctor.

This young woman is injured!

Sir, do you understand
what I'm saying?

It's a good thing you brought her here,
handcuffed and barefoot.

Very interesting, isn't it?

Yes, not bad!

The most beautiful prisoner
was brought here tonight.

Indeed.
What can she do?

Training her would be a charming thing.

Can I make an offer?

Is she a regular?

No. She must be new.

The first fruits should be honored.

How much is he asking for?

I have a feeling he already has a buyer.

He should say the price,
but I'm sure you can raise it.

Move away!
Let me go through!

What's that?
What kind of drink are you giving her?

Sir, I'm looking for a phone
to call a doctor!

I am a doctor.

Doctor Morgentodt.

Come with me.
I'll take you in a more quiet room.

Wait for me here.

I'll go get my case and check her out.

Try also to find something
to cut those off of her wrists.

Doctor?

Doctor!

Help me Walter.

Come save me.

Come closer.

Come.

LA BELLE CAPTIVE
Adapted from Rene Magritte

Marie-Ange
Van de Reeves

The whole house seemed to be blasted.

Like a hurricane hit it last night.

Or maybe more like a tidal wave that came
through the gates and the columns,

leaving rubble on its way out.

Like on the coast of the Atlantic Ocean.

I barely remember those men last night.

They were still and didn't seem
to understand what I was saying.

They were saying things
that sounded like my language

but it did not make any sense.

I did not even recognize
the sound of my own voice.

There was no sign of the tragedy in the park,
only broken branches and trees pulled out.

Probably because of the thunderstorm
that broke last night

right after I came into the house.

Nothing else happened,

and I had to face the fact that I drank
way too much in that nightclub.

Suddenly I remembered the letter
Sara gave me.

I had an important mission,

an urgent message I had to give
to the count of Corinthe.

I'll go right now.

I couldn't wake him up in the middle
of the night anyway.

The tape-cassette was still playing the quartet
of Schubert since last night.

It was "Death and the Maiden" or
"The Young Captive" or something like that.

I pictured her hands handcuffed
and her provocative smile.

Did I dream about her arms and legs
hugging me like moving algae?

Her warm body and her insatiable mouth were
taken away by the tidal wave last night.

I didn't know exactly where I was.

I was disoriented because the streets
were too big or too narrow.

And soon the streets became dirt roads
in this area that I've often driven through.

I finally saw a little bar
that looked lost as well.

Good morning.
I'd like to have a coffee.

Espresso please.

ABDUCTED THE DAY BEFORE
HER WEDDING

Weird story.

This guy must be a drug addict or crazy.

Maybe he's hiding something.

He couldn't tell the police the name
of the girl who was living with him.

And that he was supposed
to marry the next morning.

Sir, are you ok?

Is there anybody?

Is there anybody?

VILLA SECONDE

Besides the sign saying "Villa Seconde"
it was hard for me to recognize this weird hotel

used for prostitution where I spent the night
with this complex fiancee of Corinthe.

This beautiful stranger
the police was looking for.

Don't bother ringing the bell.

It's not working anymore.

It's been broken for a long time

and the gate doesn't even
open anymore.

So how do you come in?

You don't come in.

It's been centuries now.

It's been three years since I've driven
by this house twice a day.

I've never seen the gate opened.

Never.

Does somebody live here?

No.

What do you want?

It's totally empty.

The windows flap in the wind
and the inside is falling apart.

That's what I've heard.

You should ask the neighbor
for information.

But just so you know,
he's a little weird.

Goodbye.

And good luck!

You should ask the neighbor.

But just so you know,
he's a little weird.

Goodbye.

And good luck!

Excuse me madam,
the house next door...

Yes?
The house next door?

But it doesn't exist sir!
The house next door doesn't exist!

Excuse me, do you have an idea of how
I could get into the house right next...

People next door are crazy, sir!
Crazy!

Sometimes we hear them
screaming all night long!

Screams coming from...
a crazy woman.

Or maybe they're fighting.

They also play music.

They must be dancing or something.

What kind of music?

Maybe you're just hearing the wind...

Or maybe there are dogs!

Hundreds of lost dogs that scream
to death all night long...

Calm down.

Calm down.

Who are you talking to?

Excuse me Sir, the house next door...

What about the house next door?

What are you doing here?

Who allowed you to come in?

The house next door has been empty
for at least ten years.

If you want to rent it go to
the real estate agency.

What agency?
There's no sign!

I don't know, sir!
I'm not a real estate agent!

Can't you see that there
are sick people in here?

Get out!
You should have never come here!

Sorry to insist, sir,
but was it you last night...

I sleep at night Sir!

Are you hurt?

You should have told me
you were looking for help.

You can trust me.

I'm a doctor.
Have a seat.

It's nothing.

It's just a little flesh wound.

Don't be scared.
You just lost a little bit of blood.

Hurry up!
I've been called for an emergency.

There was a huge deserted beach,

with small successive waves
coming from the sea, far away.

Hurry up!
I've been called for an emergency.

There were heavy red curtains
half opened in the foreground,

like an Italian theater.

Where did they come from?
What were they doing here?

I was very confused with
that picture in mind,

like a dream coming back every time
you close your eyes.

As if it meant something important
I didn't understand.

Then I thought of it again.

Sara gave me a letter
for Henri of Corinthe.

"As soon as possible", she said.

Like it was a matter of life or death.

I already wasted a lot of time,

and now Corinthe was the only way
for me to understand my own story.

Sir Henri of Corinthe please.

Sir of Corinthe is dead.

You're his cousin, aren't you?

Heart attack.

It was probably due to the extreme
fatigue of the patient.

You must be a postcard collector, Sir.

Me?
Why?

You just took one that belonged
to the count of Corinthe.

Inspector Francis.

As you know we're investigating
a missing woman.

Sir Corinthe's fiancee.

You're the cousin.
You can help us.

No, it's a misunderstanding.

I'm not his cousin.

This is exactly what I thought.

May I ask what are you doing here?

I came here for business.

Indeed.

So you had a business relationship
with the deceased.

Do you know his fiancee?

No.

I saw her face for the first time
this morning in the paper.

Perfect.

By the way this picture was a mistake.

She's not the woman
who disappeared,

but she's an old time
girlfriend of the count.

You must have been confused
because they look alike,

or because the patient
was distracted last night.

One last question and you're free to go.

Could you show me what you have
in the right pocket of your raincoat?

I wouldn't want it to be a gun.

No it's not.

It's just a woman's shoe.

I see.

You're a fetishist like everybody.

It makes sense.

No.

A friend told me to give the shoe
to the cleaner to get rid of stains.

It seems like a bloodstain.

The woman we're looking for
was wearing the same shoes.

It doesn't mean that you kidnapped her.

You wouldn't carry an incriminating object.

You must have taken it here, in a hallway.

You must be part of a private police force
and you're doing your own investigation.

It all makes sense.

Unfortunately I have to take it from you.

I'll give you these in compensation
for your collection.

Mr. De Corinthe had lots of those.

The soul breaking up.

The high tide.

Shoes on the sand.

An easel.

Red curtains.

An urgent message
for a dead person.

Sand.

Shoes,
And blood.

"My dear count,
she doesn't remind you of anyone?"

"Sara Zeitgeist"

Symbolic exchange.

Drop cloth.

I didn't know what to do with this letter because
I couldn't give it to Corinthe anymore.

So I'm waiting for new orders.

Why did you take the postcard on his desk?

And why are you showing it to me?

What does it have to do
with the mission I gave you?

Is that a possible lead?

Or does it remind you of something?
Or what?

No. Nothing. I don't know.

I brought it to you because
the inspector had duplicates.

I thought it was weird.

I thought maybe you knew why.

But I took this postcard without thinking,

without any particular reason.

No reason.

Be careful Walter.

Are you trying to hide
something from me?

No. Hide what? For whom?

But you're right.
I haven't felt good since last night.

Like somebody drugged me
at this nightclub.

And I don't really know
what I'm doing now.

Maybe I should...

What's happening now?

Here I am.

Here I am Walter.

What do you want from me?
How did you get here?

Is this the way you're welcoming me
after this long trip?

You look like you're scared.

Scared of me,
your fiancee.

You told me your wish
was to see me again.

Here I am.

You don't recognize me?

Can't you see these eyes,

these arms and this mouth
you were so attracted to?

What old crime are you, demon dressed
like a bride, haunting me for?

What's happening to you?
Are you crazy?

Why did you lock the door?
I couldn't get in!

The door was not...
I didn't...

And you're bleeding!

Are you hurt?

It must have been during my struggle.

Why did you struggle?
With whom? You were alone.

Did you see something?

Are you scared?

You look like a child after a nightmare.

No.
I didn't see anything special.

I felt like I was choking.

Like something was squeezing my throat.

Does it happen often?

No. Sometimes,
since last night.

You should go see a doctor.

No!
Not a doctor! Not a doctor!

Calm down!

There's nothing wrong
with going to see a doctor.

How do you feel exactly?
Are you choking to death?

Yes something like that.

The pain comes from the bottom of the throat,
as if somebody was choking me.

And then I fall and drown.

But don't worry.
It will go away.

I need to go back to the Matchu club.

What for?
I didn't ask you anything.

Now that Corinthe is dead,
your mission is over.

Over by default.

What we were planning
is not possible anymore.

I have to go back.

I'd like to know something.

What thing?

I don't really know,
but I have to go back.

Hello.

Could you do me a favor?

Man to man.

I danced with a pretty blonde girl last night.

She was wearing a black dress.
Very see-through.

And she was laughing a lot.

I'm trying to contact her.

Do you remember?

She was a regular maybe.

It was crowded last night.

And I had better things to do
than watching who was with whom.

You were not busy.

I didn't see only one girl dancing with you
or with anybody else.

No blonde and no see-through.

Here is her picture.

It was in the paper this morning
regarding something...

...a small incident.

Yes I know her.

She used to come here very often.

But she couldn't have been here last night.

Why?

She's been dead for maybe
six or seven years now,

in an accident.

She was the daughter of
Professor Van de Reeves,

an old crazy man
who's into spiritualism.

What kind of accident?

Very strange.

She died on a fishing boat.

Rumors say that
they never found her body.

And she was on her honeymoon
with the count of Corinthe

or something like that.

Rumors has it that the investigation
was not done properly,

for the funeral.

You never heard that story before?

Yes I did.

It rings a bell.

The girl from last night
looks exactly like her.

It was crowded.

We found it while we were
cleaning the room.

One client must have been drunk,
hopping on one foot going home.

I'd love to keep it as a souvenir.

One of your colleagues just
asked me for the same favor.

Your investigation is making progress.

Here we are with three shoes
that belong to the same pair.

Maybe we'll find more.

If you want to know what I think,
someone is trying to make it confusing

by putting shoes on purpose in front of us.

And you are, dear collector,
directly implicated in their discovery.

I'm not saying that you did it.

But despite what I said this morning,
you are the main suspect.

How is Sara Zeitgeist?

You know Sara?

Indeed.

The different police organizations
meet all the time.

You are also related
to Doctor Morgentodt.

Strange guy.

We might arrest him as well.

Here, now you seem to be interested in
Professor Van de Reeves.

He will probably tell you
his secret of spiritualism.

I'm giving you his address so that
you don't have to look for it.

So even if you don't
really want to say it,

you think you danced
with my daughter Marie-Ange.

I'm not surprised.

I was at the movie theater last week

and I realized I was sitting
next to Marcel Proust.

You look sick.

A few people told me they met
Marie-Ange since she died.

Apparently she still looks the same.

Proust did not change either,
even with his illness.

He was there that night with an old lady
who looked like my grandmother.

Unfortunately she drowned in 1927.

Do you know, sir, that most of the people
you see in the street are dead?

That's why it's crowded everywhere.

And to avoid making a fuss
they dress like us.

Almost.

Are you ok?

It's nothing.

My stomach is empty.

Empty stomach, mind full.

You should eat something
here before you go.

You could even sleep here.

I have an empty bedroom right there
waiting for you.

Otherwise you might get lost
in the area.

It's dark, the streets don't have
a lot of lights

and there is no sign.

Yes you're right.

I'm exhausted.

Your hospitality is a relief.

The door at the back...

With relief.

With anxiety.

Or with hope.

...on your right.

Or with the worst fear.

Good night!

Or with quietness, finally recovered.

It's you Walter?

It's you Walter?
Spending the night in my house?

You're so far away Walter.

You're far away.

Come closer.

Where is he now?

Final scene. With the soldiers.

On this deserted beach.

There's a parasite noise.

Like an engine,
that stops from the execution.

Finally.

I thought you would be here.

Yes.

I wasn't sure about the appointment
but you told me...

Why would I be here if we had
an appointment somewhere else?

Yes, obviously.

Or maybe something else is controlling us.

Maybe somebody is manipulating us.

What are you talking about?

I feel like I end up every time
in the same places.

Like in a bad dream.

Or like if I was trapped.

You lost your mind Walter.

I don't know if I'm worried about you
or if you're getting on my nerves.

Where did you spend the night?

I tried to call you,
everywhere you could have been.

I slept at a crazy man's house.

But nothing special happened.

I don't know anything else.

Forget about it.

I can't.

Why did you want to show a picture of a
bloody shoe to the count of Corinthe?

To remind him.

One of his political opponents thinks
that Henri of Corinthe killed his lover,

who he called his fiancee,
six or seven years ago.

He camouflaged his crime
as as an accident.

It was on a deserted beach in the south
Atlantic around Uruguay.

Now that he's dead
it doesn't matter anymore.

You never know what matters
and what doesn't.

You should rest.

Yes you're right.

I'll go to sleep.

Always at the right place
at the right time.

You're mission is over.

Over by default.

What a nightmare!

You were the boss of an execution
organization that was about to kill me.

It was on the beach again, high-tide.

It was always the same beach
with fine sand,

with successive and regular waves,
one at the time.

You were wearing a black leather suit
and riding a motorcycle.

I think it's the noise on the street
I was hearing in my dream.

There was also a doctor.

He was doing some kind of psychological
experiment on me.

Or he was looking for a way
to communicate with the after-life.

I don't know. Something like that.

I also remember... barely...

I don't know.

I don't remember.

Are you tired?

No. I'm feeling good.

But I didn't sleep very well.

The beach had big red curtains half opened,
like drop cloth in a theater.

You screamed.

You scared me.

You were screaming for a long time,
like a child haunted by his nightmare.

It's funny.

I wanted to scream in my dream but
no sound came out of my mouth.

Some invisible hands were choking me.

I remember now that I was dreaming too.

Your scream was in my dream.

I think.

You never dream.

I heard that it doesn't exist,
people who don't dream.

Are you sure you don't need anything?

Do you want me to get up?

What for?

I'll have a coffee next door.
I have to hurry.

I'll call you from the office.

All right.

You have a tough day today.

What time is the moving company
coming by?

They said 9.30am.

Call me if you have a problem.

"Greetings from Corinth"

The angel of death.

Nobody can guess what it looks like.

And when you see it for the first time
you can't tell.

It has a sweet and caring face.

But when you know what's behind it,
it's already too late.