Dr. Caligari (1989) - full transcript
Mrs. Van Houten has shown signs of losing touch with reality, and her husband discusses possible treatment with Dr. Caligari, who says Mrs. Van Houten has a disease of the libido. The staff want Dr. Caligari removed from their facility due to her controversial experiments with electroshock and hypothalamus injections. As Dr. Caligari continues experimenting with her patients, her daughter and son-in-law attempt to stop her.
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I know you're watching me.
I feel your eyes, like wet fingers,
touching me in special places.
I'm so moist I can't stop.
I'm feeling so...
so open.
Do you know what shame is?
When you feel your sex like a live thing
doing its own bad, little dance.
My feelings are like filthy prayers.
I want to scream in your face.
Expose me Mr. Gone Gone.
Make me squirm like your eyeballs
in their sockets.
I don't care if Caligari sees.
Oh, I can hear them breathing
at the asylum.
And do you really know.
I'm juicy bad.
I know someone who has to tango.
I know someone who has to move.
when all the eyeballs
scream "stand still".
Wanna, wanna watch?
You wanna watch me shimmy?
I've got a shimmy-button really low down.
Take me daddy, please.
The universe is vast.
I am a tongue bomb.
I am life on Venus.
Life as we know it -- over.
I know how to make it sizzle.
Only appetite survives.
Pleasure will short your circuits.
I could leave you an erotic husk.
Every cell has needs.
Am I your sex dream
or maybe a whole new me?
Someone hurt me.
Make it slow.
CIA...
That you, Dr. Caligari?
This is Les Van Houten.
We've got to talk about the Mrs.
Of course, Mr Van Houten.
How can I be of service?
She's... slipping again.
I was afraid there might be
another episode.
But this time it's worse.
She's worked herself
into a complete frenzy.
She's got to be sedated.
Mr. Van Houten, if you want
your wife to rediscover pleasure
you've got to learn to just say yes.
But last time she...
she almost didn't survive.
And the scandal... I can't deal
with another episode like that.
Perhaps I should prescribe
a sedative for you?
Now just hold on, sister.
He thinks I'm dirt.
Meanwhile, one look at me
and all the tiki boys gel drooly.
Wanna touch, buster?
Wait, wait, I can hear her.
I swear I can feel her heat
from the next room.
Get a grip-
Try and remember.
How many times
did she reach her plateau?
If you're taking about orgasms,
I ran out of fingers.
Clitoral or vag?
I don't know.
Single or multiple?
I don't know.
Dammit, I'm in a situation here.
It's important.
Did she have more than one orgasm
or did she just have one?
I said I don't know
I know I'm not alone.
They pick my bones.
They sniff their fingers.
They howl.
For God's sake, she's raving.
You got me into this, doctor.
They plant things
in my Louis Vuitton valise.
While you sleep they inject things...
the libido patrol... regulating.
You only think you sleep.
Calm down, sweetheart.
Mr. Snake Face, Mr. Pig Snout,
don't give me tender-tender.
You want bush.
New precious,
we're having a little relapse.
Don't worry,
everything's gonna be an right.
I see that face
and I'm a love-slut, uh-huh.
You bastard, you lovely,
lovely, bastard.
What am I supposed to think?
You ring me out of the blue
in some kind of adrenal panic
and then just as suddenly you hang up.
Lord in heaven, my wife
was having some sort of sex fit.
From ail indications your wife's problem
is in complete remission.
Something set her off.
- Oh, you don't think that I...
- Chinchilla... chinchilla... chinchilla.
Do we have to talk about this
in front of her?
Miss Koonce?
She's presently under massive sedation
for post-traumatic stress.
She's less aware than
the chair you're squirming in.
- Well, I'd like to review Eleanor's files.
- That's impossible.
If you're gonna lay out
a lot of red tape...
Your wife's files have been destroyed.
I destroyed them.
Terrific, now what the hell
do I tell Blue Cross?
Did you tell my wife
that you terminated her files?
Mrs. Van Houten and I agreed
such a measure would be in order.
I should we been kept abreast.
Why? What makes you think a man
could ever understand?
She's my wife.
I have a right to know.
Alright, if you insist
erotic trauma.
You live with a deeply disturbed woman.
You mean, disturbed upset
or disturbed insane?
Your wife has a disease of the libido.
There you go... speak American.
She's completely out of control.
My prognosis is
two weeks in the asylum.
Two weeks?
That's kind of drastic.
If you love your wife
you'll put her in my care.
Chinchilla...chinchilla... chinchilla
Seems to me we've tried
your brand of therapy.
Was it effective?
I admit you changed her,
but I'm not gonna risk my wife
just so you can get your puss
in Psychology Today.
I don't have time for your paranoia...
Chinchilla...
Mind your nerve ends, love-bunch.
I'm afraid Miss Koonce
needs my undivided attention.
So until later this evening...
Hold it, you.
How do I know...?
I'm the most celebrated
psychotherapist in the country.
Dr. Wilhelm Reich, Dr. C. J. Jung,
Dr. Caligari.
Save the resume.
I know you helped my wife,
but just some of your methods are...
Unconventional?
Well, there's nothing conventional
about your wife.
The nightmares... the hallucinations...
the severe nympholepsy.
OK, I've heard enough.
I just don't want you doing
anything extreme to Eleanor.
You'll be here at ten...
you'll sign the release...
and you'll hand over your wife.
Do I have a choice?
Ramona... Adrian... Come in, please.
Good morning, father.
Your psoriasis seems
to have cleared up nicely.
Sure has dad...
thanks for squeezing us in.
Come now, I always
have time for you two.
That is nice of you.
But I'm afraid what we have to say...
Won't exactly make you
want to tickle us behind the ears.
Why? Is it indecent?
Vulgar?
Yes... as a matter of fact, she is.
Dr. Caligari has crossed the line
between radical therapy...
and outright human experimentation.
She has a total disregard
for patient's rights...
And a morbid fascination
with pain and suffering.
Why, it's all all so...
so unbelievable.
She's no longer a research doctor.
She's a flat out sadist.
An outright perversion
of medical laws... a sex Nazi...
you remember their doctors.
They used living beings
to achieve their own twisted aims.
I think you both are being
monstrously ungrateful.
Dr. Caligari is doing the
most significant work in the field.
Why she is responsible
for 92% of our recent grants.
She's worse than incompetent.
She's evil.
If you won't listen to us, then watch.
Aren't they pretty?
Dr. Caligari made me a custom blend.
Extra-strength fatty tissue.
It's the best.
She's floating enough estrogen
to give Jimmy Stewart curves.
Caligari's responsible
for that aberration.
And you two are losing sight of the fact
that this woman came to the CIA
less than a month ago
in a pronounced psychotic state.
Now she's well on her way
to the road to recovery.
I call that success.
I call it disgusting.
Not to mention immoral and mad.
As head nurse
I demand Caligari's dismissal.
Never.
Dr. Caligari developed her theory
of hormonal interfacing
within the walls of this institution.
You think I'd terminate her now when
she's on the brink of medical history?
I think you should know...
we have most of the staff behind us.
Staff is expendable, genius is not.
Father...
Need I remind you that this asylum
bears the Caligari name.
I may be director,
but it was one man... Caligari...
Dr. Caligari's grandfather
who had the vision.
It's his legacy.
Father, you leave me no choice,
but to write a formal complaint
to the board of directors.
That's your right, dear.
Do what you think is necessary.
Coming to dinner tonight?
Of course.
Good deal I'm whipping up your fave.
No, no, no, don't tell me.
You guessed it.
Tender little sheep trotters.
Par boiled.
Name: Gus Pratt.
The crime: murder, cannibalism.
The diagnosis: acute dissociative.
Recommend: electro-convulsion therapy.
ECT... my favorite three letters
in the alphabet.
E-C-T.
You enjoy shook therapy?
I like the tingle.
Juice me, I'm a shiver boy.
I got secret needles in my...
pokey-globes.
You've implanted needles...
in your buttocks?
Pins and needles... the shiny kind.
I'm ridin' a zillion happy volts.
Wanna see?
You've dreamed of this, haven't you?
Oh, like forever.
In my dream you strap me
in the big chair, okay.
And you push me down and I go
like whoosh, them sewin' needles.
Then you sneer at me.
Then you turn the power on till it
makes me screech like a little bunny
with a car antenna stuck
plumb thru its beating heart.
Oedipal hysteria, Mr Pratt?
Pathological daddy lust...?
a little cognitive dysfunction.
But we're not gonna let that
make us late for the parade, are we?
No ma'am, I'm spunky.
My pappy was spunky.
Used to call him Bongo
around the neighborhood.
Bongo or Glug-Glug
cuz every Saturday he'd give us kids
each a nickel to bongo his glug-glugs.
Histrionic... narcissistic.
Like birthday parties?
How'd you know? I love 'em.
Fact, right now, I'm gonna
sit in this here frying seat,
squeeze my eyes right shut
and pretend it's you and me
just a hummin' and a buzzin',
side by side, havin' a race, like,
to see who's brain starts to smoke first.
Look Caligari, there's a puff
comin' out of your ears
pretty as a mountain sunset.
Mr. Pratt,
some pretty important souls
have squirmed where you're strapped in.
I never meant to do... bad things.
I never meant to be
any more than sociable.
Hey, I'm tired of talkin'.
When you gonna do me, huh?
Oh, you're gonna savor this.
Uh-huh, uh-huh...
I wanna a real long one.
You do?
I wanna smell myself.
Can I taste my skin when it gets crispy?
Sweat's what makes it tasty,
don't you know?
Now who's the chatter box?
Now who's moving his lips?
I'm sorry, I'm sorry.
Still gonna do me now, aren't ya?
Still gonna?
Maybe...
Chinchilla!
Chronic insult to the frontal lobe.
This one will write me a thank-you note.
It's like a thousand points of light.
130 volts brain via scalp...
generalized electrical seizure.
I like the dirty talk.
All that volt and electrode stuff.
You wanna buzz me more.
When I get a little I always want a lot.
You're a piggy little thing.
You want more?
I told you I got the itch.
I'm burnin' up.
I'm a hunk of electric corpuscles.
First we work.
You scratch my itch.
That's not fair.
I'm a juice-dog, I'm a twitchin' skee-ball
and you won't let me shiver.
Quiet... watch.
Looky...
I know her.
Girls named Tinky always
taste better on the second day.
You wanna snip the arms and legs
for easy storage.
Double wrapped to retard spoilage.
And this little snippet?
They ought a put this one
on the cover of the Denny's menu.
You like what you see?
She looks religious.
Is it Easter already?
Gus likes to kiss...
Gus loves to nibble.
Nothing makes a man like you
feel alive like...
Soft supple American girl-patty.
Slice it thick, ma.
Feel happy... feel sad?
I feel... in love.
I just loved that girl too much.
You loved?
I loved little Grace Butter.
I did...
I can still see the pink in her eye as she
parked her fat'n'sassy in my kitchenette.
Her face buried in
the current issue of Watchtower.
When she saw that jumbo tureen
I had sittin' on the floor...
"What's that for, Mr Pratt?"
That's for you, little Gracie.
To make me a stew...
to make you stew, little Gracie.
She was actually 33...
a kindergarten teacher
at a home for wayward tots.
I was a wayward tot.
I told her, and then I smiled and said...
Surprise!
Cracked a bottle of ketchup, family size,
right across her pretty wrinkled brow.
Violence, Mr. Pratt?
I want to be gentle as a lamb-pie,
but you know,
the way she wrinkled
her pretty kindy-garten brow,
it always looked like she was thinkin'.
Her face kind of floated
on top of the stew.
You know, kind of like a lotus-blossom.
Seen one on a calendar once.
Her face just floated like a Grace posy
lookin' up at me with them
maraschino cherry eyes.
You don't think I'd
boil her peepers, do ya?
Kind doctor, sautéed is
the only way to serve an eyeball.
Love lurks in peculiar places.
You put her in the pot?
Wearing her Sunday best.
♪ Carrots and peas and polka
dots, taters and dumplings and beauty spots ♪
♪ That's the kind of girl I adoooore ♪
♪ Lip smacking good
Gracie galore ♪
I always sing when I'm making stew.
That's the fun part.
Well, I think that's a wonderful story.
Simply wonderful.
Do I get my treat now?
Huh...huh... do I?
You said I could have a treat now.
Now don't grovel.
I want you to ask me politely.
Yessem.
Dr. Caligari, ma'am...
can I please get a bang
that'll make my spine snap?
Excuse me... I mean...
may I please get a weensy tingle?
Their eyes tickle me
like little insect feet.
Vile little insects.
Hope I didn't startle you, hon.
Are you feeling better?
I like it here.
Nothing beats setting up camp
in the desert at night...
just toasting s'mores and getting glowy.
Baby, we have to talk.
I'm on a radiation vacation
soaking up the gammas.
All the he-men do their bomb testing
just over the ridge there.
Can't you smell it?
Baby, I talked to Dr. Caligari
thus morning.
She wants you back there for
a couple of days, a week at the most.
I know you're watching me.
There's a possibility...
that your problem is coming back.
Dr. Caligari would like you in
for observation.
There's nothing wrong with me.
I'm just little Miss Suburbia.
Two gene pods and a
purse full of credit cards.
My husband had an erection once.
Silly, really.
I want you to go upstairs
and pack a suitcase.
I'm taking you back there.
This flicker is my vortex.
See the neon?
I've got an EKG you can dance to.
Everybody limbo.
I had a legendary twitch in Nagasaki.
Uh-huh.
I wanna tell you a secret.
I'd drop my panties to see you
buck naked, all saddled up.
Kiss a psychotic...
a psychotic kisses back.
Dr. Caligari, this is Les Van Houten.
It's an emergency.
I know you're
watching me, I know you're watching me.
I know you're watching me...
I know you're watching me.
Welcome back Mrs. Van Houten,
I'm so pleased to see you.
I know you're watching me.
I know why.
Of course, you're a fascinating woman.
I wish to learn more about you.
There's much to be warned from a
despairing shriek.
For instance?
That you can't trust doctors.
But you can trust love.
Doctors neither love nor hate.
Profits, not sentiment, direct them.
Describe your life in three words or less.
Unending torment.
Elaborate please.
Blankety, blank, blank.
Thank you for being specific.
What do you want from me.
I can't love.
And sex?
A sideshow on a trip to the abyss.
Aren't we bitter.
Not at all.
Even eternal hell needs an opening act.
How do I make you feel?
Oh, I'm delighted.
I get a kick out of the third degree
from buxom fascists.
What's next, the rubber hose, a few
volts of electric shock to get me chatty?
Mrs. Van Houten...
I love psychiatry.
It's such an innocent hobby.
Blah, blah, blah...
I know just what it's
like when a girl needs her prescription fitted.
Like the voice?
A dash of the young Pat Nixon.
a hint of the Raelettes,
and a whole lot of you know who.
Go away.
You can't fool me.
I know your little secret.
I said, leave me alone.
Funny thing about desire.
If it's not crude, it's not pure.
Still, ashamed?
Uh-huh.
Eleanor, you're being watched.
Yes, I know.
Faceless strangers
even now devour you.
Uh-huh.
Eyes you'll never see.
Tongues and mouths consuming
exposed flesh... yours.
I know.
Your special friend... right now...
would you... some on the floor...?
Amorosa?
An instant fix... with him...
with you watching?
Yes, yes and yes.
Is this for general release
or just a private view?
Strictly confidential.
Your lips, the doctor's eyes.
All right...
all right... I'll play... I'll play.
Is there a problem, Mrs. Van Houten?
I want his boy-thing.
I'll twist it like a rubber band
till it snaps.
Help me, Dr. Caligari... help me.
That aroma... burned flesh always
reminds me of something.
Eleanor Van Houten is back.
Dot in admitting called me.
- Van Houten?
Ms. Libido, 1985... remember?
The competition was stiff as I recall.
Garden fresh,
I don't taste no insecticide.
The Van Houten clan
were all hormone cases.
With startling hallucinations...
I won't put but two different
kinds of beans on my plate.
I'm talkin' green,
I'm talkin' wax, I'm talkin' navy.
Finito!
According to Caligari...
So now she gets to treat her again?
And treat herself to more grant money
while she destroys Van Houten's mind.
And you can't forget the potato salad -
German, of course.
My grandma Heidi used to make all the
potato salad for Himmler's picnics...
Kugel, too.
I saw Mrs. Van Houten's chart.
It's marked cured by Dr. Caligari.
And the husband... that idiot...
Demands that Caligari
treat his wife again.
Plus charlie-chokes.
You'd remember if you had 'em...
cute little green things...
hard as little green...
teeth.
The only way to save
Mrs. Van Houten is...
- To stop Caligari, which means
- No time for the board of inquiry.
- I say we try direct...
- Confrontation.
Ever had mouse meat?
Some folks hate it... not me.
Smothered in onions...
I'd make it a holiday meal.
Enter if you must.
I'd like to see my wife.
Are we getting enough sleep, Lester?
We don't sound well.
We sound fine.
I just wanna see my wife
and I don't want any run-around.
Mrs. Van Houten was signed
into my care for two weeks...
- It's hardly been 2 days.
I don't give a damn.
I want to see her.
I haven't had my morning coffee yet.
Why don't you join me?
Not a chance.
But I insist.
It'll give us a chance to talk.
Please, be seated.
But I still don't understand
about this whole isolation business.
On my desk, Cesare.
Mr. Van Houten, this is Cesare.
Cesare... is that Italian?
What an unhealthy smell.
Are you by any chance
attempting to digest goat cheese?
Native feta?
Cesare's a budding osteopath,
as well as a talented actor.
That is interesting.
I used to dawdle in front of the footlights
myself.. .dinner theater, mostly.
As piquant as the young Raymond Burr,
with just a hint of Shelly Winters...
saucy yet American and dumb.
A lump or two?
Gimme a pair, it's been a big day.
So when is she gonna be normal again?
Her EKG is back to earth.
Serotonin is still elevated,
that's to be expected.
And of course, there are the orgasms.
Her what?
Thank God, it's a poly-blend,
stains come right out.
What orgasms?
Actually, I was just testing your reaction.
Trying to get a sense of your,
shall we say, 'erotomania.
I don't have to stand still
for this kind of slander.
For five happy years my wife
and I had a normal sex life
in accordance with church values.
Now, I wake up at 4:15... she's buck
naked and squawking for Sinatra.
She wants me to pretend I'm Frankie, Jr.
Well, I'm not, I'm not and I never will be.
Mr. Van Houten, you're married
to a very disturbed woman.
A week ago Tuesday we were so happy.
She was whipping up
an apple brown Betty.
Then the world fell in.
How's that coffee?
Huh?
Oh, it's fine, fine.
Mr Van Houten...
Les, please...
Les, do you mind if I probe you?
I beg your pardon?
How does talking about
your wife's orgasms make you feel?
Getting a little hot in here or is it, me?
I hadn't noticed.
Won't suppose you have a problem
you'd like to discuss?
Can you open a window?
I'm suffocating.
I'm beginning to get the impression
you don't know how to satisfy your wife.
I think I'm going to faint.
Have something to eat...
you'll feel better.
Em gum-Mira.
Get away from me.
You can at least taste ii before saying
no.
I'm sorry, I'm feelin' weird.
That's obvious, Les.
Considered anti-depressants?
A stint on Elavil wouldn't
hurt you at all, Mister.
I gotta take a nap.
Here comes Uncle Snoozy.
(Counts in German)
10-9-8-7-6-5-4-3-2-1
Dr. Caligari, please... open the door.
I'm burning UP!
Darling...
is that you?
That man fouls the air
with the smell of decaying flesh.
Eleanor, please, help me.
I'm sick.
It can't be.
What's the matter, don't you like it?
I did it for you... for you, Les.
Eleanor, no...
Bounce me, daddy.
Bounce me like a big old beach ball.
Enter...
How can I be of assistance?
You can begin by removing yourself
from the Van Houten case.
And then turning over her medical
records to Dr. Avol.
In the nine years you we been
experimenting on living, feeling brains...
17 of your patients
have been irreversibly...
WARPED!
Neural mayhem.
They can't be saved.
Mrs. Van Houten can.
We intend to save her.
But Mrs. Van Houten is my...
thrill machine.
What's that supposed to mean?
It means put away your hams and crawl
back to bed.
You may have Dr. Avol persuaded...
But we'll go to the APA. ..
the morality board.
I'm so happy for you.
Will there be a scandal? A humiliation?
You must produce Mrs. Van Houten.
We're entitled to interview her.
That would be nice, but I'm afraid
she's up to her elbows in therapy.
Smile... we've got enough to mail you...
To malpractice land...
I'll tell Mrs. Van Houten you were
concerned about her affairs...
she'll be aroused.
- We must have dinner sometime.
- Not likely, Caligari.
Don't you want to sample
my culinary prowess?
- I can't picture you...
- In the kitchen...
I make a mean sheep trotter.
The secret is finding sheep like you.
Dad, would you say grace?
♪ Bless this house Oh Lord
we pray, keep it safe by night and day. ♪
Thank you for these trotters.
They look great.
Amen.
Call me sentimental,
but when I see a fresh sheep trotter,
I can't help but think there is a God.
Oh dad,
you say that every Thursday.
Adrian, would you please...
Take a little off the top? Of course.
I still get misty when I see you
handle those clippers.
Remember, dad,
I did my graduate work in Australia.
A toast...
to the downfall...
Of Dr. Caligari.
I'll drink the wine,
but I told you both already
Caligari stays.
Are you expecting company?
Are you expecting company?
No, I'll get it, dear.
Ramona looks a little peaked,
don't you think?
She's such a worrier.
We did it, dad.
Today we fired volley number one
at Caligari.
I wish you two would get over
your obsession with Caligari.
Adrian, do you say you were expecting a
package?
I said no such thing.
The messenger said it's from the asylum.
I guess you should open it up.
"Roses are red, violets are blue,
trotters are tasty, what about you?"
"Love and XXX."
What does that mean?
XXX? It means kisses.
My guess is Caligari's
saying life imitates bad art.
Wouldn't that look nice on velvet?
Caligari's so obvious.
The mind of a shoplifter.
Disgusting...
Mind if I have seconds on the sheep
tips, dear?
What is it, Ramona?
Hold me, Adrian.
- Tell me?
- Jesus.
Uh-oh. Bad dreams?
- Breathe.
- I'm dripping... the fear.
Valium will eat that fear.
I have to go to the asylum.
Now? It's three in the morning.
Caligari works all night.
Was the bad doctor in...
My hell dream?
Yes, I have to see her now.
In a few days the board will make their
recommendations.
It can't wait.
I have a feeling
something monstrous is going on.
Perhaps I'll crunch a tranquilizer.
Adrian, you can't relax.
We have to save
Mrs. Van Houten from Caligari.
Just a weensy yellow one until...
Sleep comes by to pat me on the head?
I can't think about sleep.
We can't wait.
You suffered a shock
to your unconscious
don't try and move.
Adrian, I'm going to check on things.
If you want to sleep, sleep.
If you think it's right.
The dream makes it right.
That forehead, like, motel rubber.
The name's Pratt, that's right, Gus Pratt,
the studded butt guy, used to
whomp myself with a studded paddle
till my butt looked like
seventy pounds of Alpo.
Paid kids to do it on payday, then, I got
too familiar with a 12-year old peach
and squeezed the juice right out of her.
Put her in a stew, of course.
Nothing hides evidence like a stew.
Scrape the nerve ends of the skin,
eyes like electro-worms.
When you watch me, I get tingle-shocks.
I'm all breast... all hunger...
Mr. Van Houten,
ever seen a cannulation?
It's such a unique operation.
Woo-wee, my fuzzy-button
feels floppy good.
I got a bucket of goofy fish in my belly.
See this implant, here?
Just kisses your spouses
hypothalamus.
It's my favorite part of the brain.
Controls all the primal urges --
appetite, fatigue, body temperature, sex.
Can you hold a mirror
while you do that, sexy lady?
I want to watch my kissy-space
get all squished up.
This hypo's brimming with fluid
extracted from Mr. Pratt's hypothalamus.
One plunge and splish-splash.
Mr. Pratt's gland juice
becomes Mrs. Van Houten's.
Big fun with the
autonomic nervous system.
I got no joy squeezing
the life outta the pre-teen.
The fun was slappin' on the oven mitts
and watching the old iron pot hit full boil
and dicing carrots into the bubbles.
You like Maine potatoes or Idaho's?
I'm an Idaho man.
Fact is, when that stock turns ruby red,
I get warm all over.
Relax, Mr. Van Houten... be a man.
We're simply going to insert fluid from
Mrs. Van Houten's happy limbic system
directly into Mr Pratt's fore-brain.
Hey... hey... hey...
this is kooky.
I've got prancy feet.
I'm crazy in love with li'l ol' me.
Mr. Van Houten,
I gaze about enraptured,
overwhelmed by the brilliance
of this holy room.
Oh, Dr. Caligari...
I didn't know you were
working down here.
Oh, Dr. Avol, I'm very busy right now.
Can we speak later in your office?
What's going on here?
What is all this?
This Dr. Avol
is the neurological event of the decade.
Hypothalamus interfacing,
the melding of two psyches
with a single glandular squirt.
Co-mingling bodily fluids.
And Mr. Pratt, Mrs. Van Houten,
they've OK'd this?
Petty concerns.
It's typical when brain history's
in the making.
What you're saying is impossible.
Why you're defying the laws of reality.
This is the only reality
and I write the laws.
And this one... in costume?
He plays an important role.
Psychodrama's a subtle art.
He wants to speak.
Let him.
My dear Dr Avol, it's best
if we meet later when...
Remove the bandage, please.
Anything for a colleague.
Dr. Avol, help me please.
She's holding me against my will.
I'm being used as a lab rat.
A goddamn lab rat!
What is the meaning of all this?
He's a hysteria, off the street.
I'm seeking ways to relieve his anxiety.
She's lying, Dr. Avol.
I'm not a hysteric, I'm a CPA... got my
own firm.
Look at me...
I'm Les Van Houten!
My God! Release this man.
She's turned the woman I love
into a flesh eater.
Oh please, that man is a walking
argument for Thorazine.
Ramona and Adrian were right.
You are insane.
Hurry, doc.
I'm dying in here.
Darling, one look at those earlobes
and I knew I had to nibble.
Dr. Caligari?
Has anyone seen, Dr. Caligari?
Chinchilla... chinchilla... chinchilla.
I don't need this tie.
Got by for thirty years without it.
(in Spanish)
Caligari is bewitched.
Damn!
"Also known as mountain oysters,
"testicles are a favorite
epicurean delicacy.
"To prepare, first cut into
the loose outer skin
"for the entire length
of the swelled surface.
"Remove the skins in the same manner,
disturbing the meat as little as possible
"during the peeling process.
"An oval flesh form will remain.
"Soak the peeled testicles
in cold water for 3 hours, drain.
"Cover testicles
with fresh lemon slices.
"Fry in deep fat at 360 degrees
until golden."
Hey, Mr. Van Houten.
These plump wads taste better
than a stack of Jemima's.
Go after that sorry bobo.
I see you have a yen for Dr. Avol.
Well, go ahead... touch him.
Ooh, gross. He's icky.
I never want to touch a yucky man-thing.
Now go away... I'm scooting.
What's the matter, Doctor?
Maybe you long for a mommy's breast.
A soothing stream of love fluid.
Yes?
Well, we can oblige you, sure.
100 percent pure glandular extract
from Mrs. Van Houten.
In a moment or two, you'll be a new girl.
It must be wonderful to be reborn
as the same creature,
but different in every way.
Maybe you were born for this moment.
To be... transformed.
To be... Miss Destiny.
No... I'm Babs.
Tease me, squeeze me, never let me go.
Cesare, I'm asking you once again.
Have you seen Dr. Avol or Dr. Caligari?
I've been looking all over for them.
So what?
I've got my hands filled
with this lodge meeting.
Are you by any chance a Kiwana?
No, but I'd like to be.
If you help me, I'll join.
Why would I want you to join?
You're not Kiwana's material.
I'm not?
I don't think so.
I see you more as an Odd Fellow.
Is that good?
It's better than being a Moose.
They wear each other's drawers.
Give me your drawers.
I'll show you where they are.
You can leave them in my mailbox
in an envelope.
Anyway, Avol's been lab-napped.
Dr. Caligari's in him her secret place.
Where?
The basement, where Caligari's
monsters lap water from bowls.
Thank you, Cesare.
We're having a rummage sale.
Raising money for Jerry's kids.
Bring all your old glands.
Give us your endocrine system.
Every night the same scum
come to soak their eyeballs.
They don't know where beauty sleeps.
They've never seen desire in her high
heels and violet mascara.
Oh no...
Toxic waste...
that's all they are...
toxic waste poisoning a noble soul.
♪ Falling in love again,
Never wanted to ♪
♪ What am I to do
Can't help it... ♪
Look mommy, there's a funny man...
Dorothy... you cover your eyes
this instant.
It's getting so a decent person
can't walk down the street anymore.
I know what I am.
But I know I'm not what I am.
Beauty lives inside me.
Oh, but when beauty is trapped...
it gets ugly.
That Caligari is a mean doctor.
She doesn't understand,
I mean, about people like us.
I see my face and I think
who is that stranger?
Whose eyes are these?
Are these hands connected to me?
And the worst part...
the worst part...
where's the rest of me?
I know you're watching me.
Naughty, naughty, naughty...
Oh, I'm sorry sweetness.
I hope it didn't hurt too much.
Wouldn't it be perfect...
to open up
a vein and watch the waterfall.
Oh my
you always hurt
the one you love.
Oh, I know what I must look like to you.
I'm not rich... I'm not celebrated...
just a regular girl.
You know what it means
to be a prisoner in your own skin?
Of course you do...
then you know there are some truths
that are too unspeakable.
I know it hurts.
I promise I'll buy you both a box of candy
as soon as we pass a shop.
What's your favorite... mixed nuts or
chocolate covered cherries?
There are some states of being
for which there is no name
because the people who experience
them do not come back.
My skin has wrapped me
in this gruesome mistake.
I know you're watching me.
Night after night the Caligari stench.
The breath of animals.
Superior beings should not kill,
but then superior beings should not
have to live with vermin, either.
Oh no.
I've got a clock in my head that says
'tick-tock, do the world a favor.'
Oh my... you always hurt
the one you love.
Mr. Van Houten, where are you?
Do you realize when raising opossum
it's best to feed them on milk and bran
ten days before butchering?
After field-dressing woodchuck
leave them hanging for 48 hours,
skin as for rabbit.
But remove the seven small kernel-like
glands under the genital organs.
You're maudlin and full of self-pity.
You're magnificent.
Take a luscious willing creature...
Take her and make her extremely happy.
Grin while you can, Caligari.
Once my father gets wind of this
you're history.
You can fill him in now.
Ramona, be a doll.
Take some Polaroids, will you.
I wanna remember this moment.
Why? Why? Were you lonely, daddy?
What has she done to you, daddy?
Ramona, did I ever tell you
I do a mean can-can?
What say?
Oh please, this can't be happening.
I know, I know.
Our little Babs
just can't control herself.
Ramona, be my very own
personal love goddess...
my very own Princess Di.
Your father loves you.
What a fortunate child you are.
Sweetsie, the only duty
we have to history is to rewrite it.
Dad, I'm getting you outta here.
Babs! If you love me you'll call me Babs.
Dammit dad, listen to me.
Babs! Babs! Babs!
That's my very special name.
What do you think of Babs, Ramona?
Perhaps a tuck here, a tuck there...
a couple of sessions of electrolysis.
I'm taking you home.
You just wanna trick me.
Bab's knows.
If you let me inflate your nay-nays,
I'll be your hamper girl for good.
I don't know what you did, but this can't
prove anything except how sick you are.
Wanna rub my snuggle-bucket?
Come on.
I can transplant moods...
inclinations... taste,
all in the discharge of a rogue gland.
That's cruel.
Why turn my father into some
hopped up Ethel Merman?
As if I care about your father.
Once the board sees his condition
their only choice will be
to make me the director.
You should be proud.
Your daddy helped me
reach the final solution.
Up to now I produced mutations, but...
But...but what?
Now what are you saying, Caligari?
Gaze upon this pure and holy relic...
the brain of my late grandfather,
Dr. Caligari the first.
It can't be true.
Oh, but it is.
I shall bear not only grandfather's name,
I shall possess his incredible
mental prowess as well.
We're getting outta here, Caligari.
Don't try to stop me.
I wouldn't dream of it.
I think every couple
deserves a stab at happiness.
Remember kids... this isn't Utah.
Nobody wants incest on their block.
Excitement's the essence of life.
When it's over, you're dead.
For Gods sake, keep your hands
to yourself, daddy.
Am I being a scamp?
You wouldn't spank me would you,
if I told you how dizzy hot I get,
just hearing your dress crinkle?
For Christ's sake, Babs.
Just behave yourself
Success...
it tastes minty on my lips.
My grandfather knew that tingle...
(in Spanish)Caligari's got
a new pair of shoes.
- Thank God, you came.
When you didn't call, I got worried.
You won't believe what has happened.
Who's the sluggo
playing Mamie Van Doren?
It's dad!
That's my father-in-law?
Dr. Lodger, you big hunk of man.
What say we float into the cloakroom
for a little hokey-pokey?
Ramona, what the hell
happened to him?
Caligari...
We can make Jell-O... watch TV...
I love Andy Griffith.
Aunt Bea still gives me randy pants.
It's Caligari... she's behind everything.
She's somehow planted
Mrs Van Houten's libido... in our dad!
That can't be... where's Caligari now?
Caligari has a lab in the basement,
but that's not all...
There's more?
Mr. Pratt and Mrs. Van Houten
are both on the loose and...
And?
I think Mrs. Van Houten's
mesquite grilled her husband.
Wow.
- Take me to Caligari's lab.
- Don't make me...
Go back? All right, take this...
take father home.
Why don't we...
Call the police?
We can't. Not yet
If they find dad like this,
his next job will be...
Popping out of party cakes.
Don't go to that lab... promise me.
I couldn't handle both the men in my life
going Mamie on me.
Does Caligari have a...
Weapon? Just remember, she made
a killer out of the Van Houten woman.
I'll stop them... I'll stop them all.
I'll tell ya, sweet chips.
We shake a tail feather,
we can grab the next land cruiser
to Boca Raton.
I love going Greyhound, don't you?
A hundred percent glandular extract
from Dr. Caligari the first.
Brain fluid
compliments of Mrs. Van Houten.
I learned how to do this
watching you.
See what it feels like
to be my patient?
Mrs. Van Houten, put that down.
Have you ever seen a baby doll
shaved clean down there?
Cleopatra did it... you bet.
Only sometimes, you get a rash.
A rash is not a very pretty thing.
You've got to keep your...
skin moist.
Uh-huh.
Lend me a hunk of tongue,
so I can stay...
damp.
How's about it?
I know you're watching me.
Of course, you're a fascinating woman.
I wish to learn more about you.
There's much to be learned
from a despairing shriek.
For instance?
That you can't trust doctors.
But you can trust love.
What do you want from me...
I can't love.
Describe your life in three words or less.
Unending torment.
---
I know you're watching me.
I feel your eyes, like wet fingers,
touching me in special places.
I'm so moist I can't stop.
I'm feeling so...
so open.
Do you know what shame is?
When you feel your sex like a live thing
doing its own bad, little dance.
My feelings are like filthy prayers.
I want to scream in your face.
Expose me Mr. Gone Gone.
Make me squirm like your eyeballs
in their sockets.
I don't care if Caligari sees.
Oh, I can hear them breathing
at the asylum.
And do you really know.
I'm juicy bad.
I know someone who has to tango.
I know someone who has to move.
when all the eyeballs
scream "stand still".
Wanna, wanna watch?
You wanna watch me shimmy?
I've got a shimmy-button really low down.
Take me daddy, please.
The universe is vast.
I am a tongue bomb.
I am life on Venus.
Life as we know it -- over.
I know how to make it sizzle.
Only appetite survives.
Pleasure will short your circuits.
I could leave you an erotic husk.
Every cell has needs.
Am I your sex dream
or maybe a whole new me?
Someone hurt me.
Make it slow.
CIA...
That you, Dr. Caligari?
This is Les Van Houten.
We've got to talk about the Mrs.
Of course, Mr Van Houten.
How can I be of service?
She's... slipping again.
I was afraid there might be
another episode.
But this time it's worse.
She's worked herself
into a complete frenzy.
She's got to be sedated.
Mr. Van Houten, if you want
your wife to rediscover pleasure
you've got to learn to just say yes.
But last time she...
she almost didn't survive.
And the scandal... I can't deal
with another episode like that.
Perhaps I should prescribe
a sedative for you?
Now just hold on, sister.
He thinks I'm dirt.
Meanwhile, one look at me
and all the tiki boys gel drooly.
Wanna touch, buster?
Wait, wait, I can hear her.
I swear I can feel her heat
from the next room.
Get a grip-
Try and remember.
How many times
did she reach her plateau?
If you're taking about orgasms,
I ran out of fingers.
Clitoral or vag?
I don't know.
Single or multiple?
I don't know.
Dammit, I'm in a situation here.
It's important.
Did she have more than one orgasm
or did she just have one?
I said I don't know
I know I'm not alone.
They pick my bones.
They sniff their fingers.
They howl.
For God's sake, she's raving.
You got me into this, doctor.
They plant things
in my Louis Vuitton valise.
While you sleep they inject things...
the libido patrol... regulating.
You only think you sleep.
Calm down, sweetheart.
Mr. Snake Face, Mr. Pig Snout,
don't give me tender-tender.
You want bush.
New precious,
we're having a little relapse.
Don't worry,
everything's gonna be an right.
I see that face
and I'm a love-slut, uh-huh.
You bastard, you lovely,
lovely, bastard.
What am I supposed to think?
You ring me out of the blue
in some kind of adrenal panic
and then just as suddenly you hang up.
Lord in heaven, my wife
was having some sort of sex fit.
From ail indications your wife's problem
is in complete remission.
Something set her off.
- Oh, you don't think that I...
- Chinchilla... chinchilla... chinchilla.
Do we have to talk about this
in front of her?
Miss Koonce?
She's presently under massive sedation
for post-traumatic stress.
She's less aware than
the chair you're squirming in.
- Well, I'd like to review Eleanor's files.
- That's impossible.
If you're gonna lay out
a lot of red tape...
Your wife's files have been destroyed.
I destroyed them.
Terrific, now what the hell
do I tell Blue Cross?
Did you tell my wife
that you terminated her files?
Mrs. Van Houten and I agreed
such a measure would be in order.
I should we been kept abreast.
Why? What makes you think a man
could ever understand?
She's my wife.
I have a right to know.
Alright, if you insist
erotic trauma.
You live with a deeply disturbed woman.
You mean, disturbed upset
or disturbed insane?
Your wife has a disease of the libido.
There you go... speak American.
She's completely out of control.
My prognosis is
two weeks in the asylum.
Two weeks?
That's kind of drastic.
If you love your wife
you'll put her in my care.
Chinchilla...chinchilla... chinchilla
Seems to me we've tried
your brand of therapy.
Was it effective?
I admit you changed her,
but I'm not gonna risk my wife
just so you can get your puss
in Psychology Today.
I don't have time for your paranoia...
Chinchilla...
Mind your nerve ends, love-bunch.
I'm afraid Miss Koonce
needs my undivided attention.
So until later this evening...
Hold it, you.
How do I know...?
I'm the most celebrated
psychotherapist in the country.
Dr. Wilhelm Reich, Dr. C. J. Jung,
Dr. Caligari.
Save the resume.
I know you helped my wife,
but just some of your methods are...
Unconventional?
Well, there's nothing conventional
about your wife.
The nightmares... the hallucinations...
the severe nympholepsy.
OK, I've heard enough.
I just don't want you doing
anything extreme to Eleanor.
You'll be here at ten...
you'll sign the release...
and you'll hand over your wife.
Do I have a choice?
Ramona... Adrian... Come in, please.
Good morning, father.
Your psoriasis seems
to have cleared up nicely.
Sure has dad...
thanks for squeezing us in.
Come now, I always
have time for you two.
That is nice of you.
But I'm afraid what we have to say...
Won't exactly make you
want to tickle us behind the ears.
Why? Is it indecent?
Vulgar?
Yes... as a matter of fact, she is.
Dr. Caligari has crossed the line
between radical therapy...
and outright human experimentation.
She has a total disregard
for patient's rights...
And a morbid fascination
with pain and suffering.
Why, it's all all so...
so unbelievable.
She's no longer a research doctor.
She's a flat out sadist.
An outright perversion
of medical laws... a sex Nazi...
you remember their doctors.
They used living beings
to achieve their own twisted aims.
I think you both are being
monstrously ungrateful.
Dr. Caligari is doing the
most significant work in the field.
Why she is responsible
for 92% of our recent grants.
She's worse than incompetent.
She's evil.
If you won't listen to us, then watch.
Aren't they pretty?
Dr. Caligari made me a custom blend.
Extra-strength fatty tissue.
It's the best.
She's floating enough estrogen
to give Jimmy Stewart curves.
Caligari's responsible
for that aberration.
And you two are losing sight of the fact
that this woman came to the CIA
less than a month ago
in a pronounced psychotic state.
Now she's well on her way
to the road to recovery.
I call that success.
I call it disgusting.
Not to mention immoral and mad.
As head nurse
I demand Caligari's dismissal.
Never.
Dr. Caligari developed her theory
of hormonal interfacing
within the walls of this institution.
You think I'd terminate her now when
she's on the brink of medical history?
I think you should know...
we have most of the staff behind us.
Staff is expendable, genius is not.
Father...
Need I remind you that this asylum
bears the Caligari name.
I may be director,
but it was one man... Caligari...
Dr. Caligari's grandfather
who had the vision.
It's his legacy.
Father, you leave me no choice,
but to write a formal complaint
to the board of directors.
That's your right, dear.
Do what you think is necessary.
Coming to dinner tonight?
Of course.
Good deal I'm whipping up your fave.
No, no, no, don't tell me.
You guessed it.
Tender little sheep trotters.
Par boiled.
Name: Gus Pratt.
The crime: murder, cannibalism.
The diagnosis: acute dissociative.
Recommend: electro-convulsion therapy.
ECT... my favorite three letters
in the alphabet.
E-C-T.
You enjoy shook therapy?
I like the tingle.
Juice me, I'm a shiver boy.
I got secret needles in my...
pokey-globes.
You've implanted needles...
in your buttocks?
Pins and needles... the shiny kind.
I'm ridin' a zillion happy volts.
Wanna see?
You've dreamed of this, haven't you?
Oh, like forever.
In my dream you strap me
in the big chair, okay.
And you push me down and I go
like whoosh, them sewin' needles.
Then you sneer at me.
Then you turn the power on till it
makes me screech like a little bunny
with a car antenna stuck
plumb thru its beating heart.
Oedipal hysteria, Mr Pratt?
Pathological daddy lust...?
a little cognitive dysfunction.
But we're not gonna let that
make us late for the parade, are we?
No ma'am, I'm spunky.
My pappy was spunky.
Used to call him Bongo
around the neighborhood.
Bongo or Glug-Glug
cuz every Saturday he'd give us kids
each a nickel to bongo his glug-glugs.
Histrionic... narcissistic.
Like birthday parties?
How'd you know? I love 'em.
Fact, right now, I'm gonna
sit in this here frying seat,
squeeze my eyes right shut
and pretend it's you and me
just a hummin' and a buzzin',
side by side, havin' a race, like,
to see who's brain starts to smoke first.
Look Caligari, there's a puff
comin' out of your ears
pretty as a mountain sunset.
Mr. Pratt,
some pretty important souls
have squirmed where you're strapped in.
I never meant to do... bad things.
I never meant to be
any more than sociable.
Hey, I'm tired of talkin'.
When you gonna do me, huh?
Oh, you're gonna savor this.
Uh-huh, uh-huh...
I wanna a real long one.
You do?
I wanna smell myself.
Can I taste my skin when it gets crispy?
Sweat's what makes it tasty,
don't you know?
Now who's the chatter box?
Now who's moving his lips?
I'm sorry, I'm sorry.
Still gonna do me now, aren't ya?
Still gonna?
Maybe...
Chinchilla!
Chronic insult to the frontal lobe.
This one will write me a thank-you note.
It's like a thousand points of light.
130 volts brain via scalp...
generalized electrical seizure.
I like the dirty talk.
All that volt and electrode stuff.
You wanna buzz me more.
When I get a little I always want a lot.
You're a piggy little thing.
You want more?
I told you I got the itch.
I'm burnin' up.
I'm a hunk of electric corpuscles.
First we work.
You scratch my itch.
That's not fair.
I'm a juice-dog, I'm a twitchin' skee-ball
and you won't let me shiver.
Quiet... watch.
Looky...
I know her.
Girls named Tinky always
taste better on the second day.
You wanna snip the arms and legs
for easy storage.
Double wrapped to retard spoilage.
And this little snippet?
They ought a put this one
on the cover of the Denny's menu.
You like what you see?
She looks religious.
Is it Easter already?
Gus likes to kiss...
Gus loves to nibble.
Nothing makes a man like you
feel alive like...
Soft supple American girl-patty.
Slice it thick, ma.
Feel happy... feel sad?
I feel... in love.
I just loved that girl too much.
You loved?
I loved little Grace Butter.
I did...
I can still see the pink in her eye as she
parked her fat'n'sassy in my kitchenette.
Her face buried in
the current issue of Watchtower.
When she saw that jumbo tureen
I had sittin' on the floor...
"What's that for, Mr Pratt?"
That's for you, little Gracie.
To make me a stew...
to make you stew, little Gracie.
She was actually 33...
a kindergarten teacher
at a home for wayward tots.
I was a wayward tot.
I told her, and then I smiled and said...
Surprise!
Cracked a bottle of ketchup, family size,
right across her pretty wrinkled brow.
Violence, Mr. Pratt?
I want to be gentle as a lamb-pie,
but you know,
the way she wrinkled
her pretty kindy-garten brow,
it always looked like she was thinkin'.
Her face kind of floated
on top of the stew.
You know, kind of like a lotus-blossom.
Seen one on a calendar once.
Her face just floated like a Grace posy
lookin' up at me with them
maraschino cherry eyes.
You don't think I'd
boil her peepers, do ya?
Kind doctor, sautéed is
the only way to serve an eyeball.
Love lurks in peculiar places.
You put her in the pot?
Wearing her Sunday best.
♪ Carrots and peas and polka
dots, taters and dumplings and beauty spots ♪
♪ That's the kind of girl I adoooore ♪
♪ Lip smacking good
Gracie galore ♪
I always sing when I'm making stew.
That's the fun part.
Well, I think that's a wonderful story.
Simply wonderful.
Do I get my treat now?
Huh...huh... do I?
You said I could have a treat now.
Now don't grovel.
I want you to ask me politely.
Yessem.
Dr. Caligari, ma'am...
can I please get a bang
that'll make my spine snap?
Excuse me... I mean...
may I please get a weensy tingle?
Their eyes tickle me
like little insect feet.
Vile little insects.
Hope I didn't startle you, hon.
Are you feeling better?
I like it here.
Nothing beats setting up camp
in the desert at night...
just toasting s'mores and getting glowy.
Baby, we have to talk.
I'm on a radiation vacation
soaking up the gammas.
All the he-men do their bomb testing
just over the ridge there.
Can't you smell it?
Baby, I talked to Dr. Caligari
thus morning.
She wants you back there for
a couple of days, a week at the most.
I know you're watching me.
There's a possibility...
that your problem is coming back.
Dr. Caligari would like you in
for observation.
There's nothing wrong with me.
I'm just little Miss Suburbia.
Two gene pods and a
purse full of credit cards.
My husband had an erection once.
Silly, really.
I want you to go upstairs
and pack a suitcase.
I'm taking you back there.
This flicker is my vortex.
See the neon?
I've got an EKG you can dance to.
Everybody limbo.
I had a legendary twitch in Nagasaki.
Uh-huh.
I wanna tell you a secret.
I'd drop my panties to see you
buck naked, all saddled up.
Kiss a psychotic...
a psychotic kisses back.
Dr. Caligari, this is Les Van Houten.
It's an emergency.
I know you're
watching me, I know you're watching me.
I know you're watching me...
I know you're watching me.
Welcome back Mrs. Van Houten,
I'm so pleased to see you.
I know you're watching me.
I know why.
Of course, you're a fascinating woman.
I wish to learn more about you.
There's much to be warned from a
despairing shriek.
For instance?
That you can't trust doctors.
But you can trust love.
Doctors neither love nor hate.
Profits, not sentiment, direct them.
Describe your life in three words or less.
Unending torment.
Elaborate please.
Blankety, blank, blank.
Thank you for being specific.
What do you want from me.
I can't love.
And sex?
A sideshow on a trip to the abyss.
Aren't we bitter.
Not at all.
Even eternal hell needs an opening act.
How do I make you feel?
Oh, I'm delighted.
I get a kick out of the third degree
from buxom fascists.
What's next, the rubber hose, a few
volts of electric shock to get me chatty?
Mrs. Van Houten...
I love psychiatry.
It's such an innocent hobby.
Blah, blah, blah...
I know just what it's
like when a girl needs her prescription fitted.
Like the voice?
A dash of the young Pat Nixon.
a hint of the Raelettes,
and a whole lot of you know who.
Go away.
You can't fool me.
I know your little secret.
I said, leave me alone.
Funny thing about desire.
If it's not crude, it's not pure.
Still, ashamed?
Uh-huh.
Eleanor, you're being watched.
Yes, I know.
Faceless strangers
even now devour you.
Uh-huh.
Eyes you'll never see.
Tongues and mouths consuming
exposed flesh... yours.
I know.
Your special friend... right now...
would you... some on the floor...?
Amorosa?
An instant fix... with him...
with you watching?
Yes, yes and yes.
Is this for general release
or just a private view?
Strictly confidential.
Your lips, the doctor's eyes.
All right...
all right... I'll play... I'll play.
Is there a problem, Mrs. Van Houten?
I want his boy-thing.
I'll twist it like a rubber band
till it snaps.
Help me, Dr. Caligari... help me.
That aroma... burned flesh always
reminds me of something.
Eleanor Van Houten is back.
Dot in admitting called me.
- Van Houten?
Ms. Libido, 1985... remember?
The competition was stiff as I recall.
Garden fresh,
I don't taste no insecticide.
The Van Houten clan
were all hormone cases.
With startling hallucinations...
I won't put but two different
kinds of beans on my plate.
I'm talkin' green,
I'm talkin' wax, I'm talkin' navy.
Finito!
According to Caligari...
So now she gets to treat her again?
And treat herself to more grant money
while she destroys Van Houten's mind.
And you can't forget the potato salad -
German, of course.
My grandma Heidi used to make all the
potato salad for Himmler's picnics...
Kugel, too.
I saw Mrs. Van Houten's chart.
It's marked cured by Dr. Caligari.
And the husband... that idiot...
Demands that Caligari
treat his wife again.
Plus charlie-chokes.
You'd remember if you had 'em...
cute little green things...
hard as little green...
teeth.
The only way to save
Mrs. Van Houten is...
- To stop Caligari, which means
- No time for the board of inquiry.
- I say we try direct...
- Confrontation.
Ever had mouse meat?
Some folks hate it... not me.
Smothered in onions...
I'd make it a holiday meal.
Enter if you must.
I'd like to see my wife.
Are we getting enough sleep, Lester?
We don't sound well.
We sound fine.
I just wanna see my wife
and I don't want any run-around.
Mrs. Van Houten was signed
into my care for two weeks...
- It's hardly been 2 days.
I don't give a damn.
I want to see her.
I haven't had my morning coffee yet.
Why don't you join me?
Not a chance.
But I insist.
It'll give us a chance to talk.
Please, be seated.
But I still don't understand
about this whole isolation business.
On my desk, Cesare.
Mr. Van Houten, this is Cesare.
Cesare... is that Italian?
What an unhealthy smell.
Are you by any chance
attempting to digest goat cheese?
Native feta?
Cesare's a budding osteopath,
as well as a talented actor.
That is interesting.
I used to dawdle in front of the footlights
myself.. .dinner theater, mostly.
As piquant as the young Raymond Burr,
with just a hint of Shelly Winters...
saucy yet American and dumb.
A lump or two?
Gimme a pair, it's been a big day.
So when is she gonna be normal again?
Her EKG is back to earth.
Serotonin is still elevated,
that's to be expected.
And of course, there are the orgasms.
Her what?
Thank God, it's a poly-blend,
stains come right out.
What orgasms?
Actually, I was just testing your reaction.
Trying to get a sense of your,
shall we say, 'erotomania.
I don't have to stand still
for this kind of slander.
For five happy years my wife
and I had a normal sex life
in accordance with church values.
Now, I wake up at 4:15... she's buck
naked and squawking for Sinatra.
She wants me to pretend I'm Frankie, Jr.
Well, I'm not, I'm not and I never will be.
Mr. Van Houten, you're married
to a very disturbed woman.
A week ago Tuesday we were so happy.
She was whipping up
an apple brown Betty.
Then the world fell in.
How's that coffee?
Huh?
Oh, it's fine, fine.
Mr Van Houten...
Les, please...
Les, do you mind if I probe you?
I beg your pardon?
How does talking about
your wife's orgasms make you feel?
Getting a little hot in here or is it, me?
I hadn't noticed.
Won't suppose you have a problem
you'd like to discuss?
Can you open a window?
I'm suffocating.
I'm beginning to get the impression
you don't know how to satisfy your wife.
I think I'm going to faint.
Have something to eat...
you'll feel better.
Em gum-Mira.
Get away from me.
You can at least taste ii before saying
no.
I'm sorry, I'm feelin' weird.
That's obvious, Les.
Considered anti-depressants?
A stint on Elavil wouldn't
hurt you at all, Mister.
I gotta take a nap.
Here comes Uncle Snoozy.
(Counts in German)
10-9-8-7-6-5-4-3-2-1
Dr. Caligari, please... open the door.
I'm burning UP!
Darling...
is that you?
That man fouls the air
with the smell of decaying flesh.
Eleanor, please, help me.
I'm sick.
It can't be.
What's the matter, don't you like it?
I did it for you... for you, Les.
Eleanor, no...
Bounce me, daddy.
Bounce me like a big old beach ball.
Enter...
How can I be of assistance?
You can begin by removing yourself
from the Van Houten case.
And then turning over her medical
records to Dr. Avol.
In the nine years you we been
experimenting on living, feeling brains...
17 of your patients
have been irreversibly...
WARPED!
Neural mayhem.
They can't be saved.
Mrs. Van Houten can.
We intend to save her.
But Mrs. Van Houten is my...
thrill machine.
What's that supposed to mean?
It means put away your hams and crawl
back to bed.
You may have Dr. Avol persuaded...
But we'll go to the APA. ..
the morality board.
I'm so happy for you.
Will there be a scandal? A humiliation?
You must produce Mrs. Van Houten.
We're entitled to interview her.
That would be nice, but I'm afraid
she's up to her elbows in therapy.
Smile... we've got enough to mail you...
To malpractice land...
I'll tell Mrs. Van Houten you were
concerned about her affairs...
she'll be aroused.
- We must have dinner sometime.
- Not likely, Caligari.
Don't you want to sample
my culinary prowess?
- I can't picture you...
- In the kitchen...
I make a mean sheep trotter.
The secret is finding sheep like you.
Dad, would you say grace?
♪ Bless this house Oh Lord
we pray, keep it safe by night and day. ♪
Thank you for these trotters.
They look great.
Amen.
Call me sentimental,
but when I see a fresh sheep trotter,
I can't help but think there is a God.
Oh dad,
you say that every Thursday.
Adrian, would you please...
Take a little off the top? Of course.
I still get misty when I see you
handle those clippers.
Remember, dad,
I did my graduate work in Australia.
A toast...
to the downfall...
Of Dr. Caligari.
I'll drink the wine,
but I told you both already
Caligari stays.
Are you expecting company?
Are you expecting company?
No, I'll get it, dear.
Ramona looks a little peaked,
don't you think?
She's such a worrier.
We did it, dad.
Today we fired volley number one
at Caligari.
I wish you two would get over
your obsession with Caligari.
Adrian, do you say you were expecting a
package?
I said no such thing.
The messenger said it's from the asylum.
I guess you should open it up.
"Roses are red, violets are blue,
trotters are tasty, what about you?"
"Love and XXX."
What does that mean?
XXX? It means kisses.
My guess is Caligari's
saying life imitates bad art.
Wouldn't that look nice on velvet?
Caligari's so obvious.
The mind of a shoplifter.
Disgusting...
Mind if I have seconds on the sheep
tips, dear?
What is it, Ramona?
Hold me, Adrian.
- Tell me?
- Jesus.
Uh-oh. Bad dreams?
- Breathe.
- I'm dripping... the fear.
Valium will eat that fear.
I have to go to the asylum.
Now? It's three in the morning.
Caligari works all night.
Was the bad doctor in...
My hell dream?
Yes, I have to see her now.
In a few days the board will make their
recommendations.
It can't wait.
I have a feeling
something monstrous is going on.
Perhaps I'll crunch a tranquilizer.
Adrian, you can't relax.
We have to save
Mrs. Van Houten from Caligari.
Just a weensy yellow one until...
Sleep comes by to pat me on the head?
I can't think about sleep.
We can't wait.
You suffered a shock
to your unconscious
don't try and move.
Adrian, I'm going to check on things.
If you want to sleep, sleep.
If you think it's right.
The dream makes it right.
That forehead, like, motel rubber.
The name's Pratt, that's right, Gus Pratt,
the studded butt guy, used to
whomp myself with a studded paddle
till my butt looked like
seventy pounds of Alpo.
Paid kids to do it on payday, then, I got
too familiar with a 12-year old peach
and squeezed the juice right out of her.
Put her in a stew, of course.
Nothing hides evidence like a stew.
Scrape the nerve ends of the skin,
eyes like electro-worms.
When you watch me, I get tingle-shocks.
I'm all breast... all hunger...
Mr. Van Houten,
ever seen a cannulation?
It's such a unique operation.
Woo-wee, my fuzzy-button
feels floppy good.
I got a bucket of goofy fish in my belly.
See this implant, here?
Just kisses your spouses
hypothalamus.
It's my favorite part of the brain.
Controls all the primal urges --
appetite, fatigue, body temperature, sex.
Can you hold a mirror
while you do that, sexy lady?
I want to watch my kissy-space
get all squished up.
This hypo's brimming with fluid
extracted from Mr. Pratt's hypothalamus.
One plunge and splish-splash.
Mr. Pratt's gland juice
becomes Mrs. Van Houten's.
Big fun with the
autonomic nervous system.
I got no joy squeezing
the life outta the pre-teen.
The fun was slappin' on the oven mitts
and watching the old iron pot hit full boil
and dicing carrots into the bubbles.
You like Maine potatoes or Idaho's?
I'm an Idaho man.
Fact is, when that stock turns ruby red,
I get warm all over.
Relax, Mr. Van Houten... be a man.
We're simply going to insert fluid from
Mrs. Van Houten's happy limbic system
directly into Mr Pratt's fore-brain.
Hey... hey... hey...
this is kooky.
I've got prancy feet.
I'm crazy in love with li'l ol' me.
Mr. Van Houten,
I gaze about enraptured,
overwhelmed by the brilliance
of this holy room.
Oh, Dr. Caligari...
I didn't know you were
working down here.
Oh, Dr. Avol, I'm very busy right now.
Can we speak later in your office?
What's going on here?
What is all this?
This Dr. Avol
is the neurological event of the decade.
Hypothalamus interfacing,
the melding of two psyches
with a single glandular squirt.
Co-mingling bodily fluids.
And Mr. Pratt, Mrs. Van Houten,
they've OK'd this?
Petty concerns.
It's typical when brain history's
in the making.
What you're saying is impossible.
Why you're defying the laws of reality.
This is the only reality
and I write the laws.
And this one... in costume?
He plays an important role.
Psychodrama's a subtle art.
He wants to speak.
Let him.
My dear Dr Avol, it's best
if we meet later when...
Remove the bandage, please.
Anything for a colleague.
Dr. Avol, help me please.
She's holding me against my will.
I'm being used as a lab rat.
A goddamn lab rat!
What is the meaning of all this?
He's a hysteria, off the street.
I'm seeking ways to relieve his anxiety.
She's lying, Dr. Avol.
I'm not a hysteric, I'm a CPA... got my
own firm.
Look at me...
I'm Les Van Houten!
My God! Release this man.
She's turned the woman I love
into a flesh eater.
Oh please, that man is a walking
argument for Thorazine.
Ramona and Adrian were right.
You are insane.
Hurry, doc.
I'm dying in here.
Darling, one look at those earlobes
and I knew I had to nibble.
Dr. Caligari?
Has anyone seen, Dr. Caligari?
Chinchilla... chinchilla... chinchilla.
I don't need this tie.
Got by for thirty years without it.
(in Spanish)
Caligari is bewitched.
Damn!
"Also known as mountain oysters,
"testicles are a favorite
epicurean delicacy.
"To prepare, first cut into
the loose outer skin
"for the entire length
of the swelled surface.
"Remove the skins in the same manner,
disturbing the meat as little as possible
"during the peeling process.
"An oval flesh form will remain.
"Soak the peeled testicles
in cold water for 3 hours, drain.
"Cover testicles
with fresh lemon slices.
"Fry in deep fat at 360 degrees
until golden."
Hey, Mr. Van Houten.
These plump wads taste better
than a stack of Jemima's.
Go after that sorry bobo.
I see you have a yen for Dr. Avol.
Well, go ahead... touch him.
Ooh, gross. He's icky.
I never want to touch a yucky man-thing.
Now go away... I'm scooting.
What's the matter, Doctor?
Maybe you long for a mommy's breast.
A soothing stream of love fluid.
Yes?
Well, we can oblige you, sure.
100 percent pure glandular extract
from Mrs. Van Houten.
In a moment or two, you'll be a new girl.
It must be wonderful to be reborn
as the same creature,
but different in every way.
Maybe you were born for this moment.
To be... transformed.
To be... Miss Destiny.
No... I'm Babs.
Tease me, squeeze me, never let me go.
Cesare, I'm asking you once again.
Have you seen Dr. Avol or Dr. Caligari?
I've been looking all over for them.
So what?
I've got my hands filled
with this lodge meeting.
Are you by any chance a Kiwana?
No, but I'd like to be.
If you help me, I'll join.
Why would I want you to join?
You're not Kiwana's material.
I'm not?
I don't think so.
I see you more as an Odd Fellow.
Is that good?
It's better than being a Moose.
They wear each other's drawers.
Give me your drawers.
I'll show you where they are.
You can leave them in my mailbox
in an envelope.
Anyway, Avol's been lab-napped.
Dr. Caligari's in him her secret place.
Where?
The basement, where Caligari's
monsters lap water from bowls.
Thank you, Cesare.
We're having a rummage sale.
Raising money for Jerry's kids.
Bring all your old glands.
Give us your endocrine system.
Every night the same scum
come to soak their eyeballs.
They don't know where beauty sleeps.
They've never seen desire in her high
heels and violet mascara.
Oh no...
Toxic waste...
that's all they are...
toxic waste poisoning a noble soul.
♪ Falling in love again,
Never wanted to ♪
♪ What am I to do
Can't help it... ♪
Look mommy, there's a funny man...
Dorothy... you cover your eyes
this instant.
It's getting so a decent person
can't walk down the street anymore.
I know what I am.
But I know I'm not what I am.
Beauty lives inside me.
Oh, but when beauty is trapped...
it gets ugly.
That Caligari is a mean doctor.
She doesn't understand,
I mean, about people like us.
I see my face and I think
who is that stranger?
Whose eyes are these?
Are these hands connected to me?
And the worst part...
the worst part...
where's the rest of me?
I know you're watching me.
Naughty, naughty, naughty...
Oh, I'm sorry sweetness.
I hope it didn't hurt too much.
Wouldn't it be perfect...
to open up
a vein and watch the waterfall.
Oh my
you always hurt
the one you love.
Oh, I know what I must look like to you.
I'm not rich... I'm not celebrated...
just a regular girl.
You know what it means
to be a prisoner in your own skin?
Of course you do...
then you know there are some truths
that are too unspeakable.
I know it hurts.
I promise I'll buy you both a box of candy
as soon as we pass a shop.
What's your favorite... mixed nuts or
chocolate covered cherries?
There are some states of being
for which there is no name
because the people who experience
them do not come back.
My skin has wrapped me
in this gruesome mistake.
I know you're watching me.
Night after night the Caligari stench.
The breath of animals.
Superior beings should not kill,
but then superior beings should not
have to live with vermin, either.
Oh no.
I've got a clock in my head that says
'tick-tock, do the world a favor.'
Oh my... you always hurt
the one you love.
Mr. Van Houten, where are you?
Do you realize when raising opossum
it's best to feed them on milk and bran
ten days before butchering?
After field-dressing woodchuck
leave them hanging for 48 hours,
skin as for rabbit.
But remove the seven small kernel-like
glands under the genital organs.
You're maudlin and full of self-pity.
You're magnificent.
Take a luscious willing creature...
Take her and make her extremely happy.
Grin while you can, Caligari.
Once my father gets wind of this
you're history.
You can fill him in now.
Ramona, be a doll.
Take some Polaroids, will you.
I wanna remember this moment.
Why? Why? Were you lonely, daddy?
What has she done to you, daddy?
Ramona, did I ever tell you
I do a mean can-can?
What say?
Oh please, this can't be happening.
I know, I know.
Our little Babs
just can't control herself.
Ramona, be my very own
personal love goddess...
my very own Princess Di.
Your father loves you.
What a fortunate child you are.
Sweetsie, the only duty
we have to history is to rewrite it.
Dad, I'm getting you outta here.
Babs! If you love me you'll call me Babs.
Dammit dad, listen to me.
Babs! Babs! Babs!
That's my very special name.
What do you think of Babs, Ramona?
Perhaps a tuck here, a tuck there...
a couple of sessions of electrolysis.
I'm taking you home.
You just wanna trick me.
Bab's knows.
If you let me inflate your nay-nays,
I'll be your hamper girl for good.
I don't know what you did, but this can't
prove anything except how sick you are.
Wanna rub my snuggle-bucket?
Come on.
I can transplant moods...
inclinations... taste,
all in the discharge of a rogue gland.
That's cruel.
Why turn my father into some
hopped up Ethel Merman?
As if I care about your father.
Once the board sees his condition
their only choice will be
to make me the director.
You should be proud.
Your daddy helped me
reach the final solution.
Up to now I produced mutations, but...
But...but what?
Now what are you saying, Caligari?
Gaze upon this pure and holy relic...
the brain of my late grandfather,
Dr. Caligari the first.
It can't be true.
Oh, but it is.
I shall bear not only grandfather's name,
I shall possess his incredible
mental prowess as well.
We're getting outta here, Caligari.
Don't try to stop me.
I wouldn't dream of it.
I think every couple
deserves a stab at happiness.
Remember kids... this isn't Utah.
Nobody wants incest on their block.
Excitement's the essence of life.
When it's over, you're dead.
For Gods sake, keep your hands
to yourself, daddy.
Am I being a scamp?
You wouldn't spank me would you,
if I told you how dizzy hot I get,
just hearing your dress crinkle?
For Christ's sake, Babs.
Just behave yourself
Success...
it tastes minty on my lips.
My grandfather knew that tingle...
(in Spanish)Caligari's got
a new pair of shoes.
- Thank God, you came.
When you didn't call, I got worried.
You won't believe what has happened.
Who's the sluggo
playing Mamie Van Doren?
It's dad!
That's my father-in-law?
Dr. Lodger, you big hunk of man.
What say we float into the cloakroom
for a little hokey-pokey?
Ramona, what the hell
happened to him?
Caligari...
We can make Jell-O... watch TV...
I love Andy Griffith.
Aunt Bea still gives me randy pants.
It's Caligari... she's behind everything.
She's somehow planted
Mrs Van Houten's libido... in our dad!
That can't be... where's Caligari now?
Caligari has a lab in the basement,
but that's not all...
There's more?
Mr. Pratt and Mrs. Van Houten
are both on the loose and...
And?
I think Mrs. Van Houten's
mesquite grilled her husband.
Wow.
- Take me to Caligari's lab.
- Don't make me...
Go back? All right, take this...
take father home.
Why don't we...
Call the police?
We can't. Not yet
If they find dad like this,
his next job will be...
Popping out of party cakes.
Don't go to that lab... promise me.
I couldn't handle both the men in my life
going Mamie on me.
Does Caligari have a...
Weapon? Just remember, she made
a killer out of the Van Houten woman.
I'll stop them... I'll stop them all.
I'll tell ya, sweet chips.
We shake a tail feather,
we can grab the next land cruiser
to Boca Raton.
I love going Greyhound, don't you?
A hundred percent glandular extract
from Dr. Caligari the first.
Brain fluid
compliments of Mrs. Van Houten.
I learned how to do this
watching you.
See what it feels like
to be my patient?
Mrs. Van Houten, put that down.
Have you ever seen a baby doll
shaved clean down there?
Cleopatra did it... you bet.
Only sometimes, you get a rash.
A rash is not a very pretty thing.
You've got to keep your...
skin moist.
Uh-huh.
Lend me a hunk of tongue,
so I can stay...
damp.
How's about it?
I know you're watching me.
Of course, you're a fascinating woman.
I wish to learn more about you.
There's much to be learned
from a despairing shriek.
For instance?
That you can't trust doctors.
But you can trust love.
What do you want from me...
I can't love.
Describe your life in three words or less.
Unending torment.