Original subtitles

This is basically a very nasty tale.

But if I've managed to learn one thing

in my 35 years of storey writing, it

is this.

Nastiness and horror must be handled with great

circumspection, because if left on their own, they

will always taste bitter in the end.

But if humour is added to the mixture,

then the tension is relieved by laughter, and

the bitterness is banished.

In this storey, we have an actress who

knows a tremendous lot about the importance of

humour.

So I don't think you need worry.

Come along now, Mrs Powell.

It's for the best.

Happy release.

Would you like to come into sister's office?

That's right.

Quietly now, dear.

In midst of life, we are in death.

Of whom may we seek for succour but

of thee, O Lord, who for our sins

art most justly displeased?

For as much as it hath pleased Almighty

God to take unto himself the soul of

our dear brother here departed.

Mary.

My dear.

Hello, Arthur.

I'm sorry you'll have to forgive me.

Oh, I understand.

It's nice to see you again, Arthur.

It's very nice to see you too, Mary.

I wish you could have been under happier

circumstances.

You mean William didn't leave me very much?

It's a joke, Arthur.

Just a little joke.

Oh, yes.

Yes, of course.

Won't you sit down?

Yes, of course.

Well, life goes on.

Yes.

Yes, of course.

Poor William.

I've been his lawyer and his friend for

almost a quarter of a century.

Great loss, both to you and to the

university.

The university.

Yes.

Well, all that was in the obituary notices.

I'm sure you must have felt extremely gratified.

The greatest academic brain of his day.

Academic?

Yes.

Well, it's all fairly straightforward, but I'm afraid

you're quite right, my dear.

William didn't leave a great deal.

This house and about three thousand pounds.

I see.

I'll just have to go on living in

the style to which I have been accustomed.

That's another joke, Arthur.

Oh, yes.

Yes.

There is something else.

A sealed letter.

It's addressed to you, but I'm instructed to

open it and to read it aloud in

your presence.

I expect it's something to do with the

college.

Some wives compete with other women, Arthur.

I had to compete with the university.

Ah.

Well, yes.

To be read to my widow, Mary Luella

Pearl, by my lawyer, Arthur Baxter, exactly one

week after my death.

I hereby instruct my widow, Mary Luella Pearl,

to telephone Dr. John Landy and to make

an appointment to see the said doctor.

This is to be executed in Mr. Baxter's

presence.

Dr. John Landy, he works at the hospital

where William died, doesn't he?

I think.

Do you know him?

No, I don't.

He's some kind of neurosurgeon.

Rather distinguished.

And Mr. Baxter is further charged with making

certain that my widow keeps the appointment.

Signed, William Pearl.

Good gracious me.

Why would William want me to see a

neurosurgeon, I wonder?

I've no idea.

This letter was sent to me through the

post some two or three days before William

died.

I've suddenly got a kind of nervous feeling.

Sort of shivery.

P.S. I also urge my widow to

continue to observe those precepts which have guided

our life together.

Do not drink alcohol, avoid television at all

costs, do not use makeup, do not smoke

cigarettes, keep my rose beds and rockery well

weeded in the summer, and incidentally, I suggest

that you have the telephone disconnected now that

I have no further use for it.

He really did genuinely care about me, didn't

he, Arthur?

Well, like the dead man says, in the

presence of Mr. Baxter, I have to make

a phone call.

Yes?

Mrs. Pearl and Mr. Baxter are here.

Show them in.

Mrs. Pearl?

It's Dr. Landy.

Well, I have discharged my duty.

I've seen to it that you have kept

this appointment.

I bid you a good day.

Do sit.

Thank you.

It was good of you to see me,

Dr. Landy, at William's request.

Would you like to tell me why he

wanted us to get together?

He told you nothing about me?

No.

Well, yes, he may have mentioned your name

once or twice.

His research into criminal psychopathology brought us into

contact.

I had developed a new prefrontal lobotomy technique,

in certain cases, to remove the abnormal portion

of the brain.

It was not unsuccessful.

I'm glad to hear that.

Did he tell you I'd been to see

him about six weeks before he died?

No, he did not.

I admired him enormously.

First-class brain.

Yes, he was clever, all right.

William, I said, you're just the one I

want.

Want?

For what?

Mrs. Pearl, do you believe in life after

death?

Dr. Landy, you're making me very nervous.

I didn't mean to do that.

Yes, well, it's just that ever since Mr.

Baxter read me William's letter, I had this

feeling.

Yeah?

About William.

Yeah?

I've had this feeling, you'll probably laugh at

me, but I have had this feeling that

William is watching me.

Extraordinary.

Thank you.

I expect it's the after effects of grief.

Perhaps.

Perhaps not.

You'll understand more when I tell you about

the agreement William and I reached.

Agreement?

Shortly before his death.

About what?

What would you say if I were to

tell you that William is alive?

Well, I'd say that you were in need

of one of your prefrontal lobotomies.

That's what I'd say, I think.

I'm not joking.

We buried William, Dr. Landy, remember?

Nevertheless, he's alive.

He's in there.

I didn't mean to upset you.

Feeling better now?

Dr. Landy, may I ask you a question?

Please.

If William is alive and behind that door,

why don't you ask him to come in

here?

It's not quite like that, Mrs. Pearl.

Don't you think you ought to tell me

what it is quite like?

Now what does that look like to you?

I don't know.

It's a dog.

On a plate.

On a plate?

Dog's head is on a plate.

His name is Igor.

He's Russian.

The head has been completely severed from the

body.

Oh God.

But it is alive.

As you can see, normal blood supply is

being maintained from an artificial heart.

The brain is functioning.

Now, as you can see, food is being

offered.

The dog's tongue comes out to lick it

away.

Wait a minute.

Wait a minute.

What in God's...

Not so fast.

What in God's...

I put it to William.

I said, if it is possible for a

dog's brain to remain alive, why should the

experiment not be perfected upon a human being?

Oh my God.

You've got William's head in there.

I put it to William.

I said, what I need is a guinea

pig.

A human guinea pig, of course.

And he agreed.

He what?

Yes, he agreed.

I don't believe you.

I don't believe you.

William would never have agreed to anything.

So he was much too...

Cautious.

I put it to him exactly how I

would proceed.

First, I would have to enlist the aid

of an artificial heart.

Second, I would have to step in at

the right moment, just before death, and remove

the brain from the skull.

Because the object, you see, was to keep

the brain alive.

But William is dead.

How can his brain be alive?

It was rather tricky.

We only had three minutes to complete the

transfer of blood supply to the brain.

That's all we had, just three minutes.

God, what about the pain when you started?

William asked me that question, so I agreed

to give him a shot of procaine, just

in case.

You gave it...

You gave a dead body an anaesthetic?

No, no.

At that moment, the body was not yet

dead.

So William insisted.

Well, I won't go into the vast amount

of technical problems we had to overcome, but

suffice it to say that the experiment was

a complete and unqualified success.

I don't understand.

What...

What is the point of just having a

brain?

Because it continues to function.

It continues to function?

Yes.

We've got it hooked up to an encephalograph.

The slightest response is recorded.

Now, I have transferred it to a basin

containing what we know as Ringel's solution.

It's used for irrigation in neurosurgery.

The stubs of the arteries and the veins

are connected to the heart machine, and all

the stinking processes are working beautifully.

You mean to tell me that...

that this brain...

I mean, William can...

can talk?

I knew I'd forgotten something.

I hadn't told you about the eye.

The eye?

Yes.

We kept one of the optic nerves intact,

together with the eye.

William wanted an ear as well, but that

wouldn't have been practicable.

Now, we know it's seeing, because the slightest

response is recorded through the deflections on the

encephalograph.

It was in there?

Yes.

In a basin?

Yes.

I see.

And now...

I want you to go in and talk

to it.

Oh, no.

No, Doctor.

If you want to do all we can

to keep it happy...

What do you mean, if?

You mean him, don't you?

Oh, keep him happy.

I beg your pardon, of course.

Yes, yes, it would do him good to

see you.

You could smile at him, blow him a

kiss, that sort of thing.

Oh, God.

Look, you mustn't be too surprised by what

he looks like.

It's bound to be a little bit of

a shock at first.

He's not very attractive in his present state,

I'm afraid.

I didn't marry him for his looks, Dr.

Landry.

Good, good.

Well, then.

All right.

This way, then.

Look, he won't be able to see you

when you come into the room until you

put your face directly above his eye.

The eye is always open, but he can't

move it, so the field of vision is

narrow.

Oh, he's worse.

Come along, then.

No need to whisper.

He can't hear a thing.

All right.

Move a little closer.

That's right, this way.

Now, you see?

His eye.

Right eye.

Now, the brain, the ring of solution, in

the basin is contained by this box which

leads to the artificial heart.

His eye is floating, ring of solution again,

in this plastic container.

There's a lens attached, similar to one that

he had in his own spectacles.

So, at the moment, he's looking up at

the ceiling.

Not much to look at, is it?

Oh, don't worry about that.

No, no.

We're going to rig up another device to

widen his vision.

Working out an entire programme to keep him

amused.

He wants to read television.

Not television.

He disapproved.

I mean, he disapproves of television.

I'm most grateful for the information.

Don't want to upset him, do we?

No.

Now, shall we come quite close?

There is William.

Now, you have to put your face right

above his eye.

Now, he can see me.

Yes.

And he can see you.

You can smile at him.

Of course, he can't smile back.

Hello, William.

It's me, Mary.

He's seen you.

He's recognised you.

He can't hear a word you're saying.

But he can see me.

Perfect.

He must be wondering what's happened to him.

Not at all.

He knows perfectly well where he is and

why he's here.

You mean he knows he's in this box?

But of course.

William is his brain.

There is no difference between this William here

and the one you were married to.

As a matter of fact, quiet now, isn't

he?

Naturally, he's quiet.

Odd, William, quiet.

It's not like him.

Not like him at all.

You'll get used to it.

I don't know.

Funny feeling, that eye.

Still watching me after 22 years.

Exactly.

You know something, Dr. Landy?

What?

I'm beginning to feel an affection for William.

I mean, an enormous affection for William, like

this.

Now, does that sound strange to you?

Not at all.

I'm delighted to hear it.

He's like a baby, isn't he?

He's just like a little baby.

We never had any children, Dr. Landy.

William didn't like children.

Did you, dear?

Well, Mary's going to look after you from

now on.

When can I take him home, Dr. Landy?

I beg your pardon?

I said when can I take him home,

to my home, to our home?

Oh, he couldn't possibly be moved.

I don't see why not.

This is an experiment, Mrs. Bell.

One man's experiment is another woman's husband, Dr.

Landy.

You're joking.

No, I'm not joking.

But this entire equipment.

I had plenty of room in my house

for all this equipment.

I couldn't possibly permit it.

Dr. Landy, you mustn't come between a husband

and wife.

But, you're a widow.

But that's not what you said.

William is alive.

There is no difference between this William here

and the one you were married to.

But.

No more buts, Dr. Landy.

He bequeathed his brain to me.

Nuts, Dr. Landy.

He's my husband.

And I want him home.

Now, come on, William.

Admit it.

Perfect, isn't it?

The two of us.

Alone.

Here.

Together.

Take it easy, William.

You'll do yourself an injury.

I don't know about you, but I feel

one way.

I mean, we don't argue anymore.

You don't criticise me all the time.

I don't have to wash an eye on

your shirts.

I don't have to cook your meal.

All I have to do is to listen

to the throb of your heart.

You know, it's a rather soothing sound, actually.

And not loud enough to interfere with the

television.

Oh, I'm sorry.

There.

Easy, all right?

Now, don't look cross, William.

It's no good looking cross.

Cheer up.

There's mud in your eyes.

I just have to say, William.

It's heaven having you home.

It's like they say.

Life goes on.

And on.

And on.