Mad Love (1935) - full transcript

In Paris, the great surgeon Dr. Gogol falls madly in love with stage actress Yvonne Orlac, and his ardor disturbs her quite a bit when he discovers to his horror that she is married to concert pianist Stephen Orlac. Shortly thereafter, Stephen's hands are badly crushed in a train accident- beyond the power of standard medicine. Knowing that his hands are his life, Yvonne overcomes her fear and goes to Dr. Gogol, to beg him to help. Gogol decides to surgically graft the hands of executed murderer Rollo onto Stephen Orlac, the surgery is successful but has terrible side-effects...

Male narrator: Ladies
and gentlemen,

Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer feels
it would be a little unkind

to present this picture
without just a word

of friendly warning.

We're about to unfold a story
which we consider to be

one of the strangest tales
ever told.

We think it will thrill you.

It may shock you.
It might even horrify you.

So if any of you feel that
you do not care to subject

yourself to such a strain,
now is your chance to...

Well, we warned you.



[instrumental music]

[instrumental music]

[music continues]

Woman 1: No, I won't.
Let's get out of here.

There's nothing to be afraid of.

When I go out to a play,
I want to have some fun.

You bring me to a place
like this

where they make you
scream and faint.

But it's a fillip
to jaded nerves.

It's a new shudder.

Well, if that's the kind
of a man you are,

you can take me home.

Oh, now, wait a minute, darling.

You've got it all wrong.



Flowers again.

A gentleman
of the old school, Marie.

Old or new, they all try
the same things.

"Tonight I'm sad.

For no longer will I be
able to watch you every evening

from my lonely, shadowed box."
And no signature.

A man can't take the same box
every night for 47 nights

without the whole theatre
knowing who he is.

Gogol. Nasty,
foreign-sounding name.

That was very mean of you.

You ought to be ashamed
of yourself, making fun of

a famous man like Dr. Gogol.

Well, if he's so famous,
what's he doing

hanging around here
all the time?

Why, Marie, my public.

No, he really is
a great surgeon.

He cures deformed children
and mutilated soldiers.

Hmm, soldiers?
I wish he'd fix one up for me.

Your usual box, professor?

- Will you do me a favor?
- Of course.

Call Dr. Wong at my clinic
and tell him

I'll be there before midnight,
will you?

Man 1: Most happy, doctor.

[instrumental music]

Beautiful.

Beautiful.

I've been meeting you in dreams
all my life,

standing just like that.

You know me.
Raoul, your own little cabbage?

Take your hands off.

Why didn't you warn me, my dear?

My card, monsieur.

I'm perfectly willing
to give you satisfaction.

Don't be a fool.

And don't you be jealous,
my friend.

[laughs]

She's not for either of us.
She's only wax.

Good evening, doctor.

What time is it?

- Just on the hour.
- Mm.

What number's the station?

Madame, I only told you
four times tonight, 12.50.

After I was married a year,
I remembered things like

radio stations
and forgot my husband.

Male host: Continuing our
concert from Fontainebleau,

we shall now hear
one of the most brilliant

younger English pianists,
an artist with a great future.

How about mentioning
that he's married

to an artist
with a great future?

Louder, Marie,
he didn't hear you.

[knock on door]

- Curtain call, madame.
- Mm, yes, yes.

Male host: ...for the first time
on any concert stage,

an original composition
of Monsieur Orlac.

- Hurry please!
- His enviable reputation...

...for purity of tone
and brilliance of technique.

Monsieur Orlac is now
on the platform.

[audience applauds]

- Curtain call, Yvonne.
- Oh, yes, Charles.

You listen, Marie.
You know the signal.

If he coughs twice,
it means "I love you.”

[Orlac coughs twice]

[instrumental music]

Sir, how dare you threaten
your Duchess with torture?

- Duke.
- You see my warrant.

You only have one question
to answer.

Who was the man who escaped
from your balcony in the palace?

Oh!

[music continues]

[groaning]

Yvonne: No!

Don't! No!

How you must love him.

Oh, Nicolo, you're my husband.
You loved me once. Oh.

His name?

Yes, he was there.
Yes, I do love him.

Do you think I'd betray him
to your vengeance? Never!

How very unpleasant.
Bring the irons.

[groaning]

[chuckles]

[screams]

Yes, yes, it was your brother!

[screams]

[applause]

- Did he cough?
- Oh, certainly.

- How many times?
- Six, eight, ten times.

I lost count.

Yvonne: Oh, maybe he has a cold.

If he doesn't cough,
he doesn't love you.

If he coughs too much,
he has a cold. What a system.

Yvonne: From now on,
we won't need any more systems.

Maybe we'll miss all this.

Curtain calls,
grease paint, an audience.

Yvonne: Stephen will
be my audience.

It's a waste, one person.

Yvonne: No, no, not waste,
Marie. Happiness.

Marie, come on, we need help
at the party.

Yvonne: You go,
I can dress myself.

And don't get too near
the punch bowl.

Male host: Monsieur Orlac's
last number will be

the G Minor Ballade by Chopin.

[Orlac coughs twice]

And I love you, darling.

[piano music]

[music continues]

Madame Yvonne,
would it be possible?

[indistinct chatter]

[knock on door]

Come in.

Oh.

Oh, it's you, Dr. Gogol.

- You know me?
- We all know you.

You've kept the theatre running
by buying that box every night.

Won't you come in?

Thank you so much
for all the lovely flowers.

Every night I have watched you
and tonight, the last night,

I felt I must come and thank you

for, for what
you have meant to me.

Oh, I'm very flattered, doctor.

And when the theatre reopens,
I shall be in my box again.

Every night.

I do hope so,
for the theatre's sake.

I won't be here, I'm afraid.

Oh, you are playing
somewhere else?

Never again.

- Never again?
- No.

I'm going to England
with my husband.

Your...

Your husband?

Yvonne: Yes, that's he
playing now from Fontainebleau.

Stephen Orlac.
I'm meeting his train tonight.

- Stephen Orlac.
- How do you think he plays?

That's his own composition,
you know.

Very modern music.

Yvonne: We've been married
a year, but he's been on tour

and I've been busy
with the theatre.

So you see, this is really
going to be our honeymoon.

You know, I've come to depend
oh seeing you every night.

But I'm going to England.

But I must see you again.
I must.

Yvonne, we're all waiting.
Hurry.

Dr. Gogol, why not
join our party?

You represent our public.
Come on.

[indistinct chatter]

Oh! Lovely!

[indistinct chatter]

A wedding cake for the bride
who's been married a year.

Man 2: Who hasn't been
on her honeymoon yet.

What am I bid
for the first slice?

- A kiss for the bride.
- Sold.

[indistinct chatter]

I want to kiss the bride, too.

The line forms on the right.

One kiss, one piece
of cake for each.

- I'm next.
- Me, too.

What... Doctor.

No champagne, no cake,
and no kiss?

- No, thank you.
- Come along. Yvonne. Yvonne.

Yvonne. Yvonne,
don't forget our public.

- Dr. Gogol.
- Dr. Gogol.

[indistinct chatter]

All: Oh!

That's a good one.
Oh, I wish I had one like that.

Man 3: You would, eh?

- Who's next?
- I'm next.

- No, I...
- No, I am next.

How about me? How about me?

[instrumental music]

Where are you taking
that figure?

- To the melting pot.
- Melting pot?

Yes, 50 francs of wax
in that thing.

And no doubt you'd take
$75 for it. Would you?

What's the idea?

Did you ever hear of Galatea?

Galla-who?

Not wanting a statue of him,
are you?

I don't want a statue
of Galatea.

You see,
she was a statue herself.

Pygmalion formed her,
out of marble, not wax.

And...

Then...

She came to life... in his arms.

Start the motor, Henry.

There's queer people
on the streets

of Montmartre at this time
of night.

Here, a 100 francs, if you'll
deliver the statue to my house.

It's a go, Dr. Go. Gogol.
First thing in the morning.

[train chugging]

You see, monsieur, 20 francs
extra for the dog in the van.

Of course, monsieur, the guard.
You will keep my confidence?

Well, if my silence is worth
20 francs to you, buy it.

I'm hungry.

[train horn hooting]

[screeching]

- Who is that man?
- Rollo, the murderer.

Rollo. You read the case,
monsieur?

The American threw knives
in a circus.

Stuck one in his father's back
because of a woman.

He was convicted last week.

His autograph.

I have here autographs
of a hundred famous persons

and not a single murderer.

May I use your pen, monsieur?
Thank you.

- Pardon me.
- Come on in, fat boy.

- Monsieur Rollo?
- Yeah.

Don't you stick
your nose in here.

Yes. You might get it pinched.

Oh, give a guy a break.
You boys won't gab with me.

I followed your case
in the papers.

Yeah? For once,
I got top billing.

Boy, I bet it burned
those guys in the circus.

How did you happen to become

such a great expert
at knife-throwing?

Practice. Learned to toss
a penknife when I was six.

Run away with the circus at 10,
and made my living with a knife.

- May I have your autograph?
- Sure. Give me.

[train horn hooting]

Say, you can't talk
about her like that.

I loved that dame,
even if she did two-time me.

The pen.

Well, old hands can still do
their stuff, eh?

What do you want here?

Well, this happens to be my pen.

Well, take it and get out.

What about that call
for Dr. Gogol?

They're still trying to get him.

Here's the American journalist
you sent for.

Hiya, kid.

- Hello, chief.
- Oh, Monsieur Reagan.

You're the gentleman who's
going to cover this execution?

Yeah. I wish they'd cover it
so I can't see it.

You know, I got a weak stomach.

This Rollo is an American.

Yes. That's why it'll make
a good story for our paper.

The fact is,
we are anxious to avoid

undue sensationalism
in the American papers.

Oh, I know what you mean.

- I'll use a soft pencil.
- Thank you.

And if, as you say, your nerves
are a little weak,

I suggest you bring
a flask of cognac.

No. Gin, chief. Gin for
executions, beer for birthdays,

wine for weddings and champagne.

- Oh-ho, champagne.
- For what?

You ask that
and you're a Frenchman?

[beeping]

Woman 2: Dr. Gogol's clinic
on the wire.

Her first natural sleep
in weeks.

Poor little thing.

Tomorrow you can take
the boards out from under her.

- Telephone for you, professor.
- Don't disturb me now.

The brace will give
sufficient support.

Yes, professor.

But, it's the Prefect of Police
himself. He insists.

Oh.

Yes, Monsieur Rosset?

Yes.

Rollo? Tomorrow at 6:00?

[crying]

Of course, I'll be there.
Thank you.

Is that Dr. Gogol,
the famous surgeon?

You're very inquisitive.

Well, it's my job
to be inquisitive.

I wonder if I get him to write
some articles for our newspaper.

You'll see him at the
guillotine. Why not ask him?

- Good idea.
- Oh.

Rollo's train gets in from
Fontainebleau in 20 minutes.

Like to come
to the station with me?

Why, certainly,
a welcome committee

and a farewell party
rolled into one.

[chuckles]

Hey, chief,
let's get out of here.

This thing's a Turkish bath.

Can you please tell me
when the

Fontainebleau Express
will arrive?

Go ahead and tell her, chief.

No one seems to know, madame.

It's 20 minutes late already.

Hey, chief, look.

What's the matter?
Has this whole town gone crazy?

[hurried chatter]

Man 4: Wrecked!
Number 18 is wrecked!

[indistinct shouting]

What train is wrecked?

Sorry, madame,
I can't give any information.

Then give it to me.

Fontainebleau Express,
Monsieur le Prefect.

- Is it serious?
- I don't know, madame.

- Where was it?
- Near Geron, 20 miles out.

Relief train leaving on Track 9.

- Er, please.
- Can I see you a minute?

[indistinct chatter]

Please. Please, may I go
with the relief train?

Sorry, madam,
it's against the orders.

Come on, we'll get a taxi.

Alright, fellows.
Come on, everybody.

[indistinct chatter]

[indistinct chatter]

[chatter continues]

Stephen! Oh!

Oh, help me, please.
Please help me.

Help me somebody! Please, here.

- Well, doctor?
- Your husband will live.

Madame, what joy.

The head injury is not serious.

- It's only his hands.
- Only his hands?

I'm afraid we shall
have to amputate.

Ah! Amputate! No, no!

No, doctor,
you don't understand!

His hands...
He's a great pianist!

But even so, madame,
what are hands

when it's a matter
of saving life?

- But his hands are his life!
- Excuse me.

- Madame, Dr. Gogol.
- Oh, no, not that man.

But he's a genius, madame,

and if it means
Monsieur Stephen's life?

Yes. Yes.

Doctor, doctor, can you get
an ambulance to take my husband

to Paris to Dr. Gogol's house
immediately?

- But, madame...
- I know the risk.

I'll take
the responsibility.

Woman 3: Dr. Marbeau, there are
two operations waiting.

As you wish, madame.

It's great to start the day off.

Oh, alright. Alright.
I'm coming. I'm coming.

Oh, ring your head off.
Alright. There.

Hello? Hello?

Yes, this is the
Professor Gogol's housekeeper.

Yes. Well,
the professor isn't here.

If you want to know,
he's visiting Madame Guillotine.

[laughs]

He never misses
one of those head choppings.

[laughs]

Attention!

Present arms!

Attention!

Say, chief, I barely made this.

You know, they had me
in the jug.

They said I insulted one of
those gendarmes at the wreck.

Quiet, Monsieur Reagan,
if you please.

Okay.

Boy. Ain't that something.

He's an American, ain't he?
Can I ask him a question?

- Hiya, buddy.
- Hiya, partner.

Tough luck, kid.

Huh, we all get it
in the neck some day.

Say, tell me something,
will you?

Anything you want to know.

Well, I'm from Las Vegas

and I hear they finished
the big dam.

Biggest in the world, and it's
making a lake 200 miles long.

It's the gospel truth, kid.

Well, what do you think of that?

So long. Come on.

Mm.

Oh! Oh! Mm.

[sighs]

Not ill, my friend, are you?

Oh, doc, on the level
I'm as sick as a bedbug.

Come here a minute. How'd you
like to make a couple of bucks

by writing some articles
for the magazine section

in our paper back in New York?

Why buy articles about me?

You can get all you want
from the medical journals.

Wait a minute.
Who reads the medical journals?

The stuff I want
is the stuff you do

you don't put in the journal.
You catching on?

And I'm not interested
in your publicity, young man.

Well, doc, you want to make
a couple of dollars, don't you?

Chief, will you talk...
Oh, ain't that murder.

[engine revving]

Suzanne.

- Yes, professor?
- Why that ambulance?

I ordered no case here
for experiment.

They brought a man whose hands
were smashed in the Fontaine...

What man? What wreck?

How dare you let people turn

my clinic into
a public hospital?

But, professor, his wife
brought him, a Madam Orlac.

- What?
- She said you were her friend.

- Where is he?
- In the ward with Dr. Wong.

- Oh, has he come yet?
- Yes. He's with your husband.

Oh, thank heaven.

Prepare for amputation.

Doctor. His hands?
Can you save them?

Calm yourself, madame.
He's in no danger.

There are other outlets
for musical talent

besides playing.

He's also a composer.

I understand.

You mean to amputate.

And I believed
you could save them.

Believed you would help me.

If it would help, I'd gladly
give my own two hands, but...

Alright, then.

Now you must rest
and when you awaken,

everything will be over.

[crying]

If I could only help her.

If I could only find a way.

- There must be a...
- Impossible, professor.

- Impossible?
- Impossible.

Napoleon said
that word is not French!

Suzanne! Suzanne!

Call the Prefecture of Police.
Get Prefect Rosset himself.

Emergency call!

Stop the anesthetic.

Stop the anesthetic.

Of course I want to
help you, Dr. Gogol,

but I've got to get a release.

Don't worry about it.

I'll have Rollo's body

at your clinic
within 30 minutes.

Good luck with your experiment.

[clattering]

[instrumental music]

[piano music]

[train chugging]

[intense music]

[instrumental music]

Increase the carbon dioxide.

Congratulations, professor.
You've done it.

Once I felt the blood pulsing
through the hands,

I knew the operation
would succeed.

- Thank you.
- Goodnight, professor.

Goodnight.

Whatever made him
bring you here?

There's never been any woman
in this house but me.

And if he must have them here,
I prefer live ones to dead ones.

- Francoise.
- Oh!

Oh, yes, Monsieur Professor.
Pretty, isn't she?

- Get out.
- Yes, monsieur.

- Hello, there. How are you?
- Well, who are you?

Oh, that's no way
to talk to a gentleman.

Ain't that a pretty bird?

You know, I got a parrot
of my own.

- Well, what do you want?
- I got to see Dr. Gogol.

- It's a very important matter.
- Nobody comes in here.

Come here. Come here, queenie.
Lookie here.

Now, there's a 50-franc note.

I'll give it to you if you'll
answer me one question.

Now, they brought a stiff
in here. What did he do with it?

Well, I don't know.

He's upstairs fussing
over it now.

There's your answer.
Now get out.

Shh. What are they doing
with the head?

- Playing football with it?
- The head?

Yes, the head's off.
I saw it come off myself.

Well, the head was on
when they carried it in here.

- Are you sure of that?
- I'm sure of it.

Holy jumping catfish!
What's going on in here?

Now, now, you can't
come in here!

Do you want me to lose my job?

Come here a second,
will you, please?

[instrumental music]

Galatea.

[instrumental music]

But I am no Pygmalion.

"The face of all the world
is changed, I think,

since first I heard
the footsteps of thy soul.”

[music continues]

"Guess now who holds thee?

"'Death.,” I said.

But, there,
the silver answer rang.

'Not death, but love.'"

[instrumental music]

You know, it was wonderful
having you to myself

all these months.

You're a selfish little thing,
aren't you?

Look.

Spring in Paris.

I feel so helpless.

Never mind. You won't
have them much longer.

- They... They feel dead.
- They will for a time.

You see, the muscles
are atrophied at present

from lack of use.

But they...
They don't look like mine.

You forget they were
badly crushed. Alcohol.

No one in the world but you,
doctor, could have performed

this miracle.
We can never repay you.

I had to find a way
because you trusted me.

We can't possibly express
our gratitude.

Don't. Please.

Now, try to move your fingers.

There. Splendid.

Well, I began playing the piano
with one finger.

I can start that way again.

Of course, there's still much
to be done.

You'll need
some regular massage,

some ultra-violet treatments,
graduated exercise.

I'm afraid it will prove a long
and expensive business.

[dramatic music]

[instrumental music]

[piano music]

[piano music]

You're an angel.

You know we'll pay you
just as soon as.

Monsieur Stephen is well again.

I understand, madame.

[piano music]

I used to play rather well once,
didn't I?

- And you will again, dear.
- No, not with these.

Wonderful invention,
the phonograph.

Keeps a man alive
long after he's dead.

Please, don't say things
like that, darling.

Sometimes I feel
that these records are all

that's left of Stephen Orlac.

All of Stephen Orlac is left.

His tenderness, his genius,
and his arms.

The arms that hold me
close to him.

Oh, forgive me, darling,
for thinking so much of myself.

More practice,
that's the answer.

Yes, that's it. More practice.

Well, but if it weren't
for these money troubles...

I know what you're doing.
Selling everything.

Even your rings.

Yvonne, I'm so sorry.

- We'll be alright.
- Yes, of course, we will.

- Stephen.
- Yeah?

I know how proud you are, but...

why don't you go
to your stepfather?

No. No.

I swore I'd never see
that man again.

But, darling,
this is an emergency, surely.

It wouldn't mean a thing to him.

Have we heard one word from him
since my accident? No.

I tell you, darling,
it isn't a question of pride...

Then don't go.
We'll manage somehow.

Marie: You have no right
to force your way in here.

Man 5: The piano is still our
property till the loan is paid.

Sorry, madame,
he pushed his way past me.

I want my money.

Yvonne: But, monsieur,
we really intend to pay you.

I want my money
or I'll take the piano.

But you can't take it. It means
everything to my husband.

Man 5: So, you can't pay, eh?

Very well, I'll return tomorrow
with a court order.

This happens to be my pen,
gentlemen.

[car engine rumbling]

Monsieur Stephen.

Hello, Pierre. Is my father in?

- Hello, father.
- Well, the great musician, eh?

- What do you want?
- Can't you forget?

- Can't we be friends?
- Can't.

And how is the piano-playing?

Well, since my accident,
I haven't been able to play.

Uh-huh.

- Can we go into the office?
- So that's it.

- You've come here for money.
- I never said so.

But I thought you might have
a little understanding.

- Sympathy...
- Sympathy?

Oh, alright, father. Alright.

- I don't want your money.
- That's good.

Because you won't get a franc,
not a sou.

For years I've wanted you
in business with me.

But being a tradesman
wasn't good enough for you.

Now that your hands
are smashed up,

you can't thump
a piano any longer,

you come crawling back to me.

And that actress you married.

Why don't you let her
help you now?

Her pay may be small,

but she could, uh, supplement
her earnings, eh?

Stop it!

[glass shatters]

No!

[traffic bustling]

Monsieur! Monsieur!

To be near you like this,

is more happiness
than I've ever known.

But, Dr. Gogol, quite frankly,

I asked you to come here
to talk about Stephen.

And you must tell me the truth.

Will he ever be able
to play again?

I mean, as he used to play?

Her thoughts are only for him.

He's my husband and I love him.

Is there no room in your heart,
even pity for a man

who has never known
the love of a woman,

but, but who has worshipped you
since the day

he first walked by
that absurd little theatre?

Dr. Gogol, please.

Well, I can't be silent
any longer.

You're a woman.
You must have known.

Yes. Yes, I knew of your feeling
for me. I traded on it.

And since you saved Stephen,
I feel deeper friendship for you

than for anyone, but...

I can give you
nothing else in return.

- Nothing?
- Nothing.

Even if I didn't love him,

there's something
about you that...

- Repulses you?
- Frightens me.

You are cruel.

But only to be kind.

Oh, thank you for trying
to understand.

And now see what he's gone
and bought you, dearie.

It cost him a whole month
of my wages.

But what's that to you.

I hired out as a housekeeper,
and what am I now?

Lady's maid to a waxwork.

Now...
And flycatcher for a plant.

Wait a minute now.
Just wait a...

Now, here's your dinner.

You'll be dead soon, dearie.
He likes dead things.

[phone ringing]

Now who can that be?

Now, you stay here,
Josephine, go on,

till I go and see who it is.

I'll see who that is
ringing the bell.

Alright, alright.
Coming. I'm coming.

It's a woman's pace
to carry her all the way down.

If I could only get
to that bell, I'd be alright.

That's fine. That's it.
Now I can be alright.

- Oh, so, it's you again.
- Shhh!

Now, how many times
am I to send you away?

I've got to see the doctor
or I'll get fired.

- Listen, queenie...
- You can't see the doctor.

I got a present for you.

- Napoleon Brandy.
- Cognac?

- Oh, I like cognac.
- Well, I like you.

You do like that cognac.
Oh, I like cognac.

You know, I used to go
with a girl like you.

Only, she drank.

Now, tell me,
what did he do with it?

Oh, you...
You said it had no head.

Well, I looked at the head

and there ain't no marks
on the neck.

When did you look at the head?

I look at it every day.

He makes me brush its hair
every evening.

- Brush his hair?
- Mm-hmm.

Where does he keep it?

Upstairs in his drawing room,

just like it was alive.

He sits at his organ

and he plays music to it
every night.

- He plays to it every night?
- Every night.

- And you brush his hair?
- Every...

Well, I got to see this.

Sorry, I gotta see
the whole thing...

Wait a minute.
You can't go up there. My job...

Francoise: I'd get into an awful
row with the professor.

You know, I can't do this.

- What are you doing?
- Ooh!

- Madam Orlac.
- Yeah, but you can't go in.

- What is she doing in there?
- The professor...

Dr. Gogol: Francoise!

Monsieur Professor.

Hiya, doc.

I'm sorry to butt in like this,

but we newspaper fellas
have to barge in places

we're not really welcome.

I didn't know there was
anything going on

between you and Madam Orlac.

- Get out of here.
- I'll go.

I got a business proposition.

I got a proposition
to offer you $2000

to write some articles
for our paper.

You know, of your experiments.
I want to...

- Get out of here!
- I'll go.

Will I be able to walk after?

Yes, my child.

Then, I'm not afraid.

I have saved 50 francs.

- All I have in the world.
- I do not operate for money.

Thank you, doctor.

Stephen: I must see him. I must.

- What have you done to me?
- Monsieur Orlac.

- What have you done to me?
- Come in here.

- You and your black magic.
- What's wrong?

You know very well.

Now, what is it?

I've just come back from Geron.

I've seen Dr. Marbeau.

He told me that my hands
were crushed beyond saving

and that these aren't mine.

Marbeau? Who is this Marbeau?

- Well, whose hands are these?
- What's wrong with them?

Ten fingers, every nerve,
every muscle works perfectly.

What's wrong with them?
They have a life of their own.

They feel for knives.
They want to throw them.

And they know how to.

Watch.

Stephen: And that's not
the worst.

They want to Kill.

And today they tried
to kill my father.

- With a knife?
- Yes.

Hm.

Now, my friend,
I understand your case.

And I think I can help you.

Well, go on.

Ready for operation, professor.

First, forget that
provincial fool.

I am Gogol, and I tell you
those are your hands.

- Yes, but why...
- Don't interrupt.

After the shock of the wreck
came a second shock.

Your hands were altered
by my knife.

You could no longer play.

As a result, your disturbed mind
was ready for any phobia.

But the knives?
The wish to kill?

Your case is one
of arrested wish fulfillment.

But why should I wish
to throw knives?

Perhaps, as a little child,

some playmate threw
a knife cleverly.

You wished you could do it
like him.

Now, that wish
was not fulfilled.

It festered deep
in your subconscious.

If you could bring that
forgotten memory,

whatever it is,
into consciousness,

you would be cured instantly.

Knife.

Stephen Orlac: Knives.

No.

I remember nothing.

Marie, has he come home yet?
I've looked everywhere for him.

No, madame.
But Dr. Gogol called.

He wants you to come to him
at once.

Dr. Gogol? When?

Half an hour ago, madame.

Half an hour ago?

You told him the truth?

Oh, I told him a lot of nonsense
I don't believe myself.

I didn't dare to tell him

his hands are those
of a murderer.

That would probably drive him...

To commit murder himself.

Madam Orlac to see you,
professor.

Have her come in.

- But the operation, professor.
- Leave me.

What's happened? Where is he?

I sent him home.

I think if he follows
my advice...

What advice?

To go away, burrow himself
in the country.

It's absolutely necessary
for his cure

that he go alone.

But, do you mean that

I'm not to go with him?

Yes.

Why did you give him
that advice?

I did what I could for him.

I've failed.

The shock has affected his mind.

His life is ruined already.

Yvonne, get away from him

before he ruins
your life as well.

Now I understand.

You don't. How could you?

I, a poor peasant,

have conquered science.

Why can't I conquer love?

Don't you understand?

You must be mine. Not his.

You are mine.

Liar. Hypocrite.
You disgust me.

[door slams]

Start the anesthetic.

[water gurgling]

[silence]

[instrumental music]

Yvonne: Liar!

Hypocrite!

You disgust me!

[breathing heavily]

[music continues]

Dr. Gogol: They are laughing
at you in there. Go back.

They are laughing. Go.

Let them laugh!

Nothing matters to you

but one thing.

Yvonne.

Yvonne in your arms.

You can conquer love.

Of course you can.

Think.

You've thought for others,

now think for yourself.

Power of suggestion.

See how easy it is?

Already working.

Splendid. Splendid.

He's a weakling, anyway.

Do it.

And then, she'll be helpless.

She must come to you.

Oh!

Doctor, thank you!

My little girl will walk again.

You saved her.
Oh, you saved her.

Oh, I'm so happy.
Thank you, doctor.

Thank you.

[instrumental music]

Man 6: Extra!
Read all about it!

Rich jeweler murdered!

Extra! Read all about it!

Rich jeweler murdered!

[indistinct chatter]

Rich jeweler murdered! Extra!

Yes, Monsieur Stephen,

he grabbed the knife
from the counter.

He threw it at his father.
And then, he ran out.

Is this the, the knife?

Yes.

Take it to Varsac
to check for fingerprints.

Tell me,

why should Stephen Orlac
want to Kill his father?

They were arguing
about money, monsieur.

There were hot words.

[footsteps crunching]

[doorknob clicks]

Was it you who telephoned me
to come here?

Rollo: [whispers] Yes.

You said you'd tell me
the truth about my hands.

Rollo: [whispers]
They throw knives, huh?

How did you know that?

Rollo: [whispers]
I have no hands.

Yours, they were mine once.

I knew it. He lied.

Rollo: [whispers] And so,
when you knifed your father

in the back last night,

you killed him with my hands.

I killed my father?

No. No.

I threw a knife at him
yesterday, but I, I...

Last night...

Last night, I...

- No.
- Rollo: You remember now?

No. Since I left Dr. Gogol...

I can't remember anything.

Rollo: [whispers] Pick it up.

Feel the balance.

Use it.

When they try to arrest you.

Who are you?

Rollo: [whispers] I am Rollo.

- The knife thrower.
- No, no.

Rollo died in the guillotine.

Rollo: [whispers] Yes,
they cut off my head,

but that Gogol,
he put it back here.

[laughs]

[indistinct chatter]

[speaks in foreign language]

Arrest Stephen Orlac.

151 Avenue Colbert.

Wanted for murder.

Bring to General Headquarters
immediately.

Repeat.

[clattering]

Stephen.

It wasn't I who did it.

- It was Rollo's hands.
- What is it?

What's the matter, darling?

I've murdered my stepfather.

[gasps]

I've just seen Rollo.

You remember Rollo?

They cut off his head,

but Gogol put it back on.

It was Rollo who told me
that I did it.

Oh, Stephen, my darling.
You're not well.

All this is some wild dream.
You're with me now.

Everything will be alright.

Oh.

So you don't believe that
these are Rollo's hands.

Alright then. I'll prove it.

They may not be able
to play the piano,

but you watch how
they can throw a knife.

Gogol.
That's what it is.

He's trying to drive you mad.

Marie: You can't take him
this way!

Pardon, madame.
These men insist!

They say they are
from the police!

- The police?
- Yes, madame. I'm very sorry.

- Monsieur Stephen Orlac?
- Yes.

In the name of the law,
I arrest you

for the murder of your father.

Murder?
There must be some mistake.

It isn't true.

Oh, when did this awful thing
happen?

- Last night.
- Oh, Stephen.

Tell her how my father
was killed.

Stabbed with a knife.

Oh. Throwing knives seems to be
a hobby of yours.

- Oh, no, no, no, please!
- It's no use, darling.

Alright, officer. I'm ready.

If you like,
I can put these on downstairs.

Thank you.

Yvonne: Wait! I'll go with you.

- I'm sorry, madame, but...
- Yvonne.

There's nothing you can do,
darling.

Alright, officer.

No, no, there's some mistake!

Yvonne: He didn't do it!
Stephen, tell them!

You can't, you can't do this!

Stephen, my darling!
Let me go with you!

Monsieur Rosset,
there are no two sets

of fingerprints alike
in the world.

These two prints are those
of the same man.

How can that be, Varsac,
when Rollo is dead?

I don't understand you at all.
You must have made a mistake.

There can be no mistake.

Fortunately,
our case against Stephen Orlac

doesn't depend on fingerprints.

Here's... to you, Josephine.

Come on. You come in
and have a party.

That's your perch.

'Cause you say he's a...

...as vain as...

[chirping]

[hiccups]

♪ You're a jolly
old girl, Josephine... ♪

[doorbell ringing]

Well, I'll tell you,
if it's that man again,

I'll show him.

I'll show him what it's like

getting the doorknob with...

Ah! That's it. Now I'll show...

How did you get out?

Go upstairs quickly
where you belong,

before he comes back and finds
you wandering around loose.

Upstairs, I say. Go upstairs.

Get up there because I've got
to see you in there

before he comes back.
No, no. Not in that one.

Get into that one.
Get in the room.

I'll get all the blame when
the doctor comes and finds...

But I must see Dr. Gogol.
Nobody answered at the clinic.

[screams]

It talks! It's come alive.

- Please, I must see him.
- It's come alive!

Oh! It's come alive! Oh!

Dear, oh, dear, oh, dear.

Oh, dear.

It went out for a little walk

and then it started to talk.

I'm not going back there.

Not me. Not me.

Who went out
for a little walk?

The wax statue.

It came to life, I tell you.

They often come back to life,

and go out for little walks.

- Yes.
- They do?

Now, you come
for a little walk with us.

I know a doctor who wants
to have a word with you.

Well, I never saw a statue
come to life.

[gasps]

[shrieks]

[squawking]

Uh...

[laughing]

That fool.
[laughs]

He believes he murdered
his father.

[laughs]

He'll kill now.

[squawking]

Power of suggestion.
[laughs]

How easily it worked.

[laughs]

[squawking]

[continues laughing]

[squawking]

[continues laughing]

Triumph, Galatea.

[laughing]
Triumph.

He thinks he murdered
his father.

When it's I who killed him.

Galatea, she'll come here now,

flesh and blood,
not wax like you.

And he, he shall be shut up
in the house

where they keep the mad.

I, Gogol, will do that.

He shall be shut up
when it's I who am mad. [Laughs]

But nobody knows that.

Excepting you and me.

It's our little secret.

And now I shall play to you...

for the last time.
[laughs]

No, you don't understand,
these are Rollo's fingers,

Rollo's hands.

It was Rollo who told me
that I killed him.

My friend, Rollo's head
was cut off months ago.

Yes, but Gogol put it back
for him.

He took off his hands
and put them onto my arms. Look.

The fingerprints on the knife.

The prints of Rollo,
and this man's prints,

they are all the same.

I got it. Man without head
Kills rich jeweler.

What an eight-column spread
that'll be on the front page.

Why, that's the greatest story
since Lindbergh flew to Paris.

Oh, boy, it was only true.
Let me see those hands of yours.

Say, you were in a bad
railroad wreck, is that right?

Chief, I don't like the marks
on this guy's hands.

You sent Rollo's body
to Dr. Gogol,

and I've been trying to find out
for months what he did with it.

Never mind about his head,
but I believe

this hand stuff is true.

- You say you saw Rollo tonight?
- Yes.

And he's got his head fixed up

in a sort of steel
and leather brace.

Rollo's got his head back.
Orlac has got Rollo's hands.

And what has Dr. Gogol got?

If I don't find out,
I got no job.

Chief, let me talk to you
a minute.

This is private. Come here.
Hey, chief.

That Dr. Gogol is a 100% crazy.
He tried to strangle me.

You know why, don't you?
I found a woman in his house.

- Now do you catch on?
- But surely he...

Wait a second, please.
This is important.

You know who the woman is,
don't you?

Yvonne, the actress,
this guy's wife.

Now do you catch on?
It's the old story.

The old family doctor's stuck
on a girl and tries to plant

a murder on her husband
to get rid of him.

He's been doing something
mighty queer with Rollo's body.

I begin to think you're right,
Monsieur Reagan.

We'll look into this
immediately.

- Order my car.
- Now you're talking.

[eerie piano music]

[bird squawking]

[screams]

[laughs]

[laughs] There's blood
on your cheek, Galatea.

[chuckles]

So it seems that wax can bleed.

[screams]

Galatea, I am Pygmalion!

You were wax, but you came
to life in my arms.

Dr. Gogol, please!

You speak. You speak to me.

My love has made you live.

Galatea, give me your lips.

Let me go! Let me go!

Reni, Reni.

Don't drive so fast,
there's no hurry.

Why are you afraid of me?

I love you, I love you.

You came to life for me.

- Don't you know me, Galatea?
- Yes.

Yes, I am Galatea.
But let me go now, please.

I promise to come back.

- You are lying.
- No.

You wouldn't come back.

- You hate me. You despise me.
- No. No.

Yvonne: Liar! Hypocrite!
You disgust me!

B... but I love you!

Dr. Gogol: Each man kills
the thing he loves.

Each man kills
the thing he loves.

Each man kills
the thing he loves.

Yes, yes.

Each man kills
the thing... he loves.

Wait a minute.

My wife.

Reagan: Oh, It's wax.

And I thought I had
a front page murder.

Yvonne: Help! Help!

[Yvonne screams]

Yvonne!

[squawking]

[screams]

- It's locked.
- Break it open.

"And so I find a thing to do

with all her hair.

In one long
raven string I wind

three times her little throat
around...

and strangle her.

[door rattling]

No pain feels she.”

It's bolted from the inside.

We've got to get it open.

"I am quite sure

she feels no pain.”

[gasping]

He's killing her!

Get out of my way!

[gasps]

Yvonne, are you alright?

Yvonne: Oh, Stephen.

Stephen: My darling.

[instrumental music]