SPIRITS 0F THE DEAD
Hughes!
Hughes!
Are the horses ready?
Whenever you wish, Madam.
Get them, now!
Your guests are still in bed,
Milady.
I slept badly last night!
Wake them! I need fresh air!
I want to ride, to forget
this dream I had!
Are you sure it was a dream?
Sometimes you need me...
to tell you what you did
was real.
Get out!
You're always lurking about!
At the age of twenty-two,
Frederique,
Countess of Metzengerstein
inherited the entire family fortune.
Rarely had a noble of this land
come into such a legacy.
She ruled over it capriciously:
Both night and day
according to her whim.
That morning, haunted by her
nightmare of the dawn,
she decided to take her guests
to the castle
where she had spent
her childhood.
Marquis!
Give me something to drink!
Blood!
Swine!
Milady!
What! Can't I enjoy myself?
Surely one can still laugh.
I love this place.
It's beautiful!
You have ten finer castles.
Finer than childhood?
Fool!
Is that boy still annoying you?
Shall I throw him out?
And supposing he flies...
It would be a pity!
Shoot straight and true!
The cord must break!
Shameful debaucheries,
flagrant treacheries,
unheard of cruelties soon taught
her vassals
that nothing
could guarantee them security
against the remorseless fangs
of this petty Caligula.
Come!
Come on!
Give me the necklace, boy!
- Is this our room?
- I have a surprise for you.
What is it?
There she is.
Don't be silly!
I knew him long before you did!
The other way!
All encouraged her in her whims,
not only her depraved friends,
but many others who feared
her displeasure.
The sole exception to this rule,
was the less well to do branch
of their related Berlifitzing
family,
who were traditional enemies
of the Metzengersteins,
and openly critical
of Frederique's behavior.
These two families had been
locked in discord for centuries,
and their deadly enmity
reaching so far back
that none could remember
its origins.
At this time the young
Baron Wilhelm of Berlifitzing
lived alone in his family's
castle.
Although he was her closest
neighbor,
he had never spoken to his
appalling cousin,
Frederique of Metzengerstein.
For her part, Frederique, if
by chance she caught sight
of her cousin from afar,
would mock at him and openly
show her scorn.
But Wilhelm seemed not to
notice her.
His lively intelligence would have
made him a great success in society
but nothing interested this
young misanthropist
who divided his life between
hunting and his stables.
Help me!
Quickly!
If I find the idiot who
set this trap,
he'll be flogged for two hours
and I'll apply the vinegar
myself.
Hurry!
And stop staring!
When a vixen gets caught,
she plays dead.
even if she's injured.
Does it hurt?
Chance alone brought Frederique
and Wilhelm together.
The girl would have preferred
to hate this face
that she knew not, but instead
she was unable to forget it.
Something within her had changed.
Haunted by the memory of
a gloomy, mocking glance,
she had but one desire- to see
Wilhelm again.
Hunting the vixen,
Wilhelm Berlifitzing?
Sultan!
Sultan!
He'll be back.
I'm cold!
A Metzengerstein offers
his cloak to a lady.
You don't, apparently!
You never speak, Cousin.
My ankle still hurts
from the trap.
Prince!
Do you only speak to animals?
Come this evening.
You'll find what you need.
Most of my guests are boars,
buzzards and bears.
It should amuse you.
I won't be part of
your collection.
I'm not accustomed to being
refused.
- Do not keep bad habits.
- Who do you think you are?
A happy man.
Frederique!
Wilhelm!
Rejected and ridiculed when
she'd never been so sincere
Frederique angrily suppressed
the emotions
that had drawn her towards
her cousin.
Hughes!
Her only thoughts were
her vengeance.
Hughes!
Yes, Milady?
How did he come here?
He galloped here through
the flames.
- Whose is he?
- Nobody knows.
Not even the Baron Wilhelm's
servants.
No one knows this horse.
- No one can approach him!
- I'll try.
Milady...
The Baron Wilhelm is dead!
What?
He tried to save the horse
he loved and died.
Everything went up in flames.
Everything.
Hughes!
Hughes!
Hughes!
Yes?
You will repair this...
as it was before.
But that's impossible, Madam!
You will, because I wish it!
Find the best tapestry-maker.
Frederique had ordered the stables
to be set on fire
without imagining that
Wilhem would perish in the flames.
His death satisfied neither her
love, nor her bitterness.
She felt a dark foreboding.
Terror took hold of her.
What are you thinking?
Nothing. Go on.
From that time forth, a marked
change took place
in the outward behavior
of the young libertine.
She no longer left her estate,
excluding all companions.
Qr could the wild, unearthly
horse that she rode constantly
have claimed some mysterious
right of friendship...
Frederique remained faithful
to him.
In the glare of noon,
at the dead hour of night,
in sickness or in health,
in calm or in tempest,
Frederique seemed riveted to the
saddle of that colossal horse,
his audacities so well
accorded with her own spirit.
I don't know.
Some days, the threads sing.
and tie themselves in knots.
I asked you how long.
Weeks... months perhaps.
This spell, which she accepted
with all her being,
reached even
into her solitary moments.
She would spent hours before
the tapestry
that was slowly taking shape.
Fascinated, she watched
the agile hands of the old man,
bringing back to life
the great black steed.
His fingers, so deftly knotting
the threads,
seemed to be weaving with
a fatal logic,
her own destiny.
Help me now, my hands.
You always served me well.
Do not betray me.
Have you worked it out?
- Is it blood?
- No, fire!
Frederique had accepted
and now desired her own end.
She rushed toward the flames.
Like Wilhelm, with Wilhelm,
she will die by fire.
- I want to confess!
- After Mass. People are waiting.
- No! Right away!
- Please...
- After Mass.
- Now, I said!
Proceed.
I don't know how.
Tell me what to do. Help me.
I'm not a Catholic.
In that case, my son,
we'll talk after Mass.
I want to confess,
you must hear me!
Do not shout.
You're in God's house.
I don't care about God!
I need to understand.
I want to talk.
I've killed a man.
Someone from this town?
I don't know...
I don't think so.
- Ah, a stranger?
- Yes.
Well... no. I know him.
I have always known him.
You're drunk!
Listen to me!
It's your duty.
Why did you kill him?
I'll tell you everything,
from the beginning.
Franz von Lowenstein.
William Wilson!
It's from Italy.
It must be from your Mother.
Attention!
At ease.
Silence! Stop that!
Wilson did it!
Wilson!
Down.
Up.
Down.
Up.
Down!
Who's that?
He's the new boy.
- What is your name?
- Wilson. William Wilson.
- What's your name again?
- William Wilson.
His name was Wilson?
The same as yours?
Same name, precisely.
- A coincidence.
- Unacceptable.
Power cannot be shared.
Suddenly I had a rival.
A rival, or rather a companion
who beat me in everything,
but who watched me
from a benevolent distance.
He exasperated me
but I felt extremely curious
about him.
Good God!
Wilson!
You again, as usual!
We were both expelled.
It took me a long time to forget.
has always haunted you.
- Before you leave...
- Let me finish!
Several years later
I enrolled in medicine,
out of curiosity.
I remind you that a doctor
is also a sorcerer.
We shall seek life
in the depths of matter.
And now I have the pleasure
of dissecting before you
a human body
which has always been
the dream of priests,
poets or philosophers.
To be precise, I shall open
a human heart.
If we were dealing with
a live body,
we'd process in this fashion.
Going laterally from the sternum,
between the 6th and 7th rib,
we'd find the apex of the heart.
But in the present case,
we shall section
all the ribs of the sub-auxiliary
region on the left
and the right
as far as the sternum.
Then we will separate
the diaphragm
and fold back the rib cage.
This will reveal the contents
of the thoracic cavity.
The heart, gentlemen,
is a hollow muscle
composed essentially of a firm
ventricular mass
and a softer auricular mass.
This pump
which gives forth
as much as it receives,
has come to be seen
as a symbol
of courage and generosity.
Does Mr. Wilson have
a comment?
No. In that case,
we may proceed.
Thank you!
Even in dealing with a corpse,
always be sure of the
cleanliness of your instruments.
It is said, gentlemen,
that the heart is the seat of
the emotions, the passions.
Indeed.
But experience shows that it is
the seat of our cares,
our sorrows.
Its only generosity lies
in the suffering it gives.
So, when we have cut the ribs,
separated the diaphragm
and folded back what is
commonly called the rib cage,
we can deliver our patient
from the source of her woes.
The doctor is a benefactor.
We will thus bring her relief.
Along with the heart...
No!
We'll remove despair
and the pain of love.
Gentlemen, we shall restore her
her pristine purity,
the peace of paradise lost.
Even if it's a living person,
make sure your instruments
are perfectly clean.
Here, put this on!
Cover yourself.
Did she die?
Forget about the girl!
It's him, don't you see?
I had to leave the University,
and I joined the Austrian Army.
To fight.
But no one fights anymore.
The twin garrison is infamous.
Thanks to me.
People have told me all about
the trouble. The poor women.
All was well...
until that night.
Don't. It's Wilson!
You recognize me?
I'm flattered.
There were many of us
the other night.
It was dark,
and you were so busy.
Good evening, Mr Wilson.
- Is that Wilson?
- Be careful, Tonina.
This Wilson is surely not
the lover you dream of.
He's made his reputation
from men...
not from us.
He loves parades, the theater,
dressing up.
He needs an audience.
But in private,
he puts on a poor show.
- Have you met him before?
- No... and I don't want to.
I hate wasting my time.
- Are you referring to me?
- You... you.
You are not the only
man alive, Wilson.
Are you taunting me?
Are you threatening me?
I'm challenging you.
Ace.
She loved cards. But I could
always keep my hand up.
I decided to teach her a lesson.
Court card!
Two hundred.
Double.
I'll see you.
Ace, Jack.
Wilson has lost.
Are you sure?
Ace, King.
I thought you were bluffing.
Bluff and window-dressing...
That's you, Wilson.
The card-player resembles
the lover.
He gets tired.
No staying power, my dear.
Court card.
Ace.
Will you accept my watch?
It has three jewels.
I'll see you, my dear.
Ace, King.
The same.
The game continues.
Court card.
Court card.
Ace.
Pour me a drink
while I collect.
From then on, she lost
inexorably until morning.
Ace.
All of it.
I want to see you.
Top card?
Top card.
Franz, count this up, please.
Thank you, sir.
Add a thousand.
Four thousand thalers,
plus a thousand...
- I can't pay you, Wilson!
- No problem.
I propose double or nothing.
It's your last chance.
If you win, we're even.
And if I lose?
You'll still owe me nothing.
But you'll be mine.
How? 0n what conditions?
Whatever conditions I choose.
Decide. Quickly.
It's six o'clock.
I accept.
Ace.
King.
Now we pick up from the deck.
Jack.
Your luck is returning.
No.
I was wrong!
You've lost, Giuseppina!
Where? When?
Here. Now.
We shall leave you both.
There's no need, in fact...
stay, gentlemen.
Your turn, Gino.
Well?
You would like something else?
He wants something else,
Giuseppina.
May he?
Madam,
you owe this man nothing.
He cheated.
Here is the proof.
All the cheat needs to do
is distract people's attention.
Simply empty a glass...
light a cigar...
take out a watch.
You are not known to us, sir.
Who are you?
Wilson knows my name.
Your jacket. Your watch.
Get out of here.
Wilson, I demand
your resignation.
You will leave town today.
We're not against pleasure, but
no cheat may wear our uniform.
For us, you no longer exist.
Wilson!
Wilson!
This is the end of your
following me.
This is the end of your
hounding me to death.
This is the end of your
torturing me. It's over!
Wilson!
Wilson...
You shouldn't have killed me.
Without me, you no longer exist.
Dead to the world.
Dead to hope.
If I die, you die as well.
My son...
I think it's a relief for you
to tell me these nightmares.
Promise the Lord never to
drink again.
Drunkenness makes man
like a beast.
You don't know
what you say or do.
- You don't believe me?
- Yes, I do. Be sensible.
Get some sleep.
Tomorrow you'll forget it.
You'll be ashamed
and ask God's forgiveness.
Give up your debauchery.
Seek the chaste love
of a good wife
and you'll no longer suffer
these hallucinations
which stem from your pride,
and only turn you in on yourself.
You cretin!
You don't believe me.
To hell with you!
The plane kept
circling the airport
seemingly unable
to decide to land.
It was the first time
I had been to Rome
and I had the odd feeling
that this trip,
put off for so long
was to be very significant
in my life.
For a moment, I even had
the absurd hope
that the plane wouldn't land...
but would take me
far from Rome.
It was not to be.
The airport's invisible nets
had already snared the plane
and were dragging it
helplessly towards earth.
Control tower, request authority
to disembark passengers.
Mr. Edwards...
There he is! Toby Dammit!
No! Stop it!
Please!
Bastard! What a jerk!
I'm sorry. Forgive me.
All those lights.
Those blinding lights...
I just can't stand them.
It's true.
I'm a night person.
I hate light. Yes, I hate it.
You swore you'd leave me alone.
I am Father Spagna.
Welcome to Rome.
Then you would be...
I represent the film production.
These are two directors,
the Manetti brothers.
Maurizio and Ernestino.
My secretary...
And this is Vicky Rosenthal
who will be your guide.
I trust you had a pleasant trip.
He is not bad at all.
Yes, just right for the role.
We couldn't have chosen better.
Please, step this way.
It's the first Catholic Western.
Christ's return to the
bleak, desolate prairie.
And is this not
the secret desire of all men?
A new incarnation of Christ.
in concrete, tangible form.
Christ already lives in us,
but to show him in
a violently mundane context...
It may seem a desperate
gamble.
Blasphemy, almost, I agree.
But I know an artist such as you,
whether a believer or not,
will understand
that structuralist cinema
can recapture sublime poetry
through primal images
that are spare,
eloquent in their poverty -
syntagmatic, as my friend
Roland Barthes would say.
Something between Dreyer
and Pasolini
with just a hint of John Ford,
of course.
As long as it reflects
the death throes and decay
of our capitalist system...
a Western can claim
to be militant.
That's what Lukacs says.
We'll create historical characters
sociologically contextualised.
Thus, our two outlaws represent
irresponsibility and anarchy.
The busty girl is the illusory
escape into the irrational.
The prairie is beyond history
and the bisons are
man's struggle for subsistence.
This film will be in color.
Harsh colors, rough costumes
to reconcile the holy landscape
with the prairie.
Sort of Piero della Francesca
and Fred Zinneman...
An interesting formula.
You'll adapt to it very well.
Just let your heart speak.
The producers promised me
a Ferrari -
latest model.
Where is it?
Yes, the Ferrari...
You'll get the Ferrari.
After the show.
You'll get it
after tonight's gala.
I can't hear you.
- Are you going to a funeral?
- Take some Librium.
Go ahead, don't stay here.
Stop the car!
I have to speak to him.
A thousand lire. Show me.
I see luck and happiness.
Here, read mine.
Curiosity, the need to know...
They're very human responses.
But to think that
one can influence fate...
I don't want to.
It scares me.
I'd rather not know.
I had seen her once again.
She was waiting for me
at the airport.
With her big, silent ball.
I told her to go away
but she kept coming back.
She seemed convinced that
eventually I'd join in her game.
You swore you'd leave me alone.
It's nothing. It will pass.
Tonight's guest
is an English actor
who needs no introduction.
His last film is still fresh
in our minds.
He's here now in Rome
to act in a film which treats
the biblical story of redemption
as a Western.
Ladies and gentlemen,
please welcome Toby Dammit.
What do you want?
What's going on?
I believe you've never been
to Italy before.
No.
What made you decide
to come now?
The Ferrari I was promised.
Do you use LSD or other drugs?
All kinds of drugs.
- Why?
- To get back to normal.
What do you like most in life?
No idea.
- What do you despise most?
- My audiences.
Some say you no longer have
any audiences. Is that true?
How did critics like
your Hamlet?
understand a thing.
Was your childhood
unhappy?
No. My mother always laughed
when she hit me.
Not her fault. She drank.
I've heard
you can't stand criticism
and that you have
a violent temper.
If you repeat that again, watch out
for that big nose of yours.
Will you marry me?
Do you think you're neurotic?
It's my one quality.
What is amiss in your life,
Mr. Dammit?
I'm happy
and it drives me to despair.
Is it true you've done
unsavory jobs?
Yes... yes...
but... l've never been
a TV reporter.
Pity.
- Do you know Italian cinema?
- I claim not to.
Why do both
men and women like you?
I'm feminine enough for women...
and masculine enough for men.
- Why hadn't you visited Italy?
- I went to Africa.
- Do you think you're witty?
- No. Do you?
Do you believe in God?
No.
What about the devil?
Yes, in the devil, yes!
How interesting!
And have you seen him?
Yes, I have.
Describe him for us.
Is he a goat, a bat
or a black cat?
I'm English... not Catholic.
For me the devil is friendly
and joyful.
He's a little girl.
He's a funny fellow.
What do you think?
If I had your cute looks,
I wouldn't have to act the fool.
He's certainly ugly...
but he makes you laugh.
Good evening,
ladies and gentlemen.
Welcome to the Italian 0scar
presentations.
Firstly, I thank the celebrities
from show business,
politics and the arts
who are here tonight.
I also thank the Minister
of Culture for his telegram...
Here's to my producer.
Allow me to shake your hand.
Bravo, Mr. Dammit.
Mr. Dammit, I'm known
as D'Artagnan.
I do voice imitations.
I'm a poet...
Can't I even say hello
to a friend?
This is my daughter Elizabeth.
An exceptional child.
- Smile, Elizabeth.
- Mr. Dammit.
Is she a virgin?
She's a child, Mr. Dammit,
believe it.
Lombardi. Assistant producer.
They're about to present the
Golden She-Wolves on stage.
Right after the fashion parade.
It would be good if you could
just before the awards,
say something, recite
some poetry.
A bit of Shakespeare, perhaps.
But keep it short.
Make it snappy.
The boss is right.
Shakespeare's a winner
as long as it's not too long.
I'm proud to present now
the highlight of the collection...
"Queen of Sheba."
"Nicht Plus Ultra."
"Flux within Flux."
"Humiliation."
"Lady Hamilton."
It's your turn, Mr. Dammit.
Stay there. I'll be right back.
Robert, please go on
with your star.
I'm your stand-in.
Could I have a photo with you?
Don't mess this up.
Yes, a photo of us three!
I know London very well.
I'm so glad to be
your stand-in.
I did Thomas Millan too.
I'm a stunt man too.
Machine-guns.
Keep twenty for me.
So, is London great?
As far as manners go,
the English are lords.
You wear a mini-skirt
and they don't turn a hair.
You'll be more
comfortable over here...
Just a little glass.
No. Calm down.
Later on,
if everything goes well.
You shouldn't drink so much.
I am the painter Stagni.
I won the prize
for the best film script.
For "Take Your Carcass Home."
You haven't read it?
I'm delighted to meet you.
I admire you so much.
Sit here, darling.
The poor fellow is almost blind.
Hello!
Don't you recognize me?
My magazine is putting together
a special edition.
It will be about
the ancient pagan gods.
The editors have chosen you
to represent
the young Greek god Mars.
Eight large photos.
Almost completely naked.
Can I look forward to it?
Bravo!
And now for tonight's
moment of truth.
But first let me again thank
our distinguished panel
who have selected the winners
of the highest award.
A Golden She-Wolf
to Marylou Lolo.
Her first film revealed
a generous nature
and a superlative ease.
A Golden She-Wolf to that
great duo,
the waltzing twins...
Lion and Tiger.
Come to the microphone, Miki
and share your feelings
with us.
Even if we expect it, it's always
an unforgettable moment.
I'm overcome with emotion.
All I can say is... thank you.
And you?
I'm overcome with emotion.
All I can say is... thank you.
I'm overcome with emotion.
All I can say is... thank you.
Bravo... young ladies!
Now let's hear it for the woman
who has won everyone's heart...
the most warmly human
of our actresses.
A Golden She-Wolf
to Annie Ravel.
Hello...
And now, please forgive me
if my voice trembles
more than it should
but how can one not be moved
when one has the honor
of inviting onto this stage...
Yes, you've guessed it.
An artist who for so many years
yes, for so many years
has brought us laughter and joy,
who has made us laugh
by giving his all
with the enthusiasm
of the truly great artist.
You always look so young.
Will you say a few words or
would you rather mime for us?
Don't ask too much of me.
Do you know I have a cat's eye?
If I heard you correctly,
you have a cat's eye.
- And how is your sight?
- Better than with the other one.
Isn't science wonderful?
- But it's bad luck for me.
- I don't get it. Why?
Because I only sleep
with one eye.
With the other one,
I chase mice.
Don't be afraid anymore.
I'll take care of you. Always.
Yes, always. I understand you.
I know you.
I've always known you.
You won't be alone any more
because I'll be with you always.
Whenever you put out your hand,
you will find my hand.
You are no longer shipwrecked,
no longer a fugitive.
No more loneliness.
No more selfishness.
We will share a life
of serenity and devotion.
The one you and I
were waiting for.
You had no faith,
but you trusted
and found me.
I am the one you were
waiting for.
And I am here with you.
For ever.
And now we have another
wonderful surprise for you.
Ladies and gentlemen,
Toby Dammit!
Bravo... bravo... bravissimo.
Come on up, Mr. Dammit.
Let me through.
Here he is, with us tonight,
Toby Dammit,
the great English actor
who has contributed so much
to British film
and now honors
Italian cinema.
It gives me great pleasure
to present this statuette
which is a symbol of our highest
civic honor, to Toby Dammit...
incomparable exponent of
the art of Shakespeare,
one of the giants
of world poetry,
certainly the greatest
after our Dante.
Congratulations.
May I?
It's not true.
I'm not a great actor.
I assure it's not true.
I could have been...
But I haven't worked
for a year.
My last director...
my last director complained
because...
he said I was drunk.
Why am I telling you this?
Why did you ask me here?
What do you want from me?
What do you want from me?
That woman...
She wanted to marry me.
It's funny.
Doesn't it make you laugh?
I just sat there and cried.
It often happens to me...
especially...
when I've been drinking...
I cry... yes, I cry.
Wine makes me sad.
Too much light here.
But whisky...
whisky is different.
It's so strange.
A wonderful woman...
she took my hand...
she stroked my hand.
She said "I'm here for you."
"I'm the woman of your dreams."
But I'm not waiting for you.
I'm not waiting for anyone,
got it?
You give me the shits.
Here are the keys.
She's been run in.
Come back, Mr. Dammit!
Hey! How do I get out of here?
I want to go to Rome.
He's crazy.
Where's he going, the idiot?
The bridge is down.
You have to take the detour.
Go back! Take the detour
at the mill.
The way is closed.
Wait! The car.