La Dame d'outre-nulle part (1965) - full transcript

THE LADY FROM BEYOND NOWHERE

NUCLEAR FACILITY

Evening.

Evening, Mr. Morgan.

It's open.

Morgan's not very friendly tonight.

He's on night shift.

The bigwigs like it

even less than we do.

He's not usually in so late.

What do you care?

Bernard Morgan.

RADIATION

NO SMOKING

Hello? Emergency services?

Abnormal opening of door G49.

Yes, G49.

No, nothing was scheduled.

OK, triggering the alarm.

What's going on?

Let us in.

I don't give a damn

about your press passes.

Oh, boy.

National radio here.

Just tell them that the guard Walker

is still alive.

Who's Walker?

I'm Walker.

That's not smart.

So...

Director!

Let it through.

Thank you.

A statement for the press, sir?

And then?

The explosion occurred in G49, sir.

- Are you certain?

- Almost, sir.

A few seconds beforehand,

the door to G49 was signalled

as having been opened abnormally.

- Any victims?

- Shouldn't be.

Shouldn't!

Building G was empty.

No one works there at night.

Security guards?

They had just left the building.

Their report?

Nothing, sir.

Wonderful.

- Damages?

- Significant, certainly.

But we can't get a good estimate

until building G has been isolated

by the security services.

Brendon,

you were in charge of security?

The explosion couldn't have happened,

sir.

And yet it did happen.

It couldn't have been an accident,

sir.

The explosion of the kind of grenade

that was put in G49

requires two steps:

first, the pin is pulled,

and then it must receive an impact.

Are you saying

that all the grenades were pulled?

Surely not.

But if just one goes off,

it can cause a chain reaction

throughout the depot.

I meant that the grenade

that caused the explosion

had been thrown intentionally.

And, therefore, by someone familiar

not only with the

operation conditions,

but the consequences?

Yes, sir.

By someone suicidal.

Who had access to G49?

Besides me, just three people.

The engineers Sebl?, here,

McDonald, who's in Washington,

and Morgan.

Morgan has been on sick leave

for 8 days.

I know. I'm the one

who suggested he take some time off.

Have you contacted him?

He's not answering his phone.

Of course, Morgan isn't under

suspicion, sir.

He's not under suspicion, Brendon,

or he's dead.

Morgan had no reason to kill himself.

I'd hesitate to say that

about anyone.

What do we really know

about other people?

In any case, gentlemen,

the first issue

is to give something to the press.

The journalists are already outside.

Any suggestions?

The statement needs

to reassure the public.

That's impossible.

What's impossible, Dopson?

Let me put the director on.

Yes? McGowan.

What?

Yes.

Yes.

Yes.

OK.

I'm on my way.

A 40-year-old woman

has been taken to the hospital.

She was wondering through

the ruins of building G,

past the security line.

In a sorry state, but alive.

Despite the fallout.

That's not all.

She kept repeating the name

Bernard Morgan.

Bernard Morgan?

Who is she?

Bernard...

Don't say it was Bernard.

I didn't know.

I didn't know we'd be separated.

Forever.

I didn't know.

I didn't know the opposite

would happen to me.

Bernard, Ber...

The speaker is turned all the way up.

She's not talking anymore.

She's catching her breath.

How much is the oxygen at?

- 60, Doctor.

- Go to 70.

Strange case.

No sign of wounds or burns.

But her blood pressure

and temperature are abnormally low.

Look.

Anyone else would be dead.

I don't have radiation levels yet.

Hence all the precautions.

It would seem...

It would seem?

It would seem this woman

is rejecting life.

No, it's not that.

She isn't in the conditions of life.

She can't adapt.

That's not medicine,

you'll say it's poetry.

Be that as it may,

medicine will catch up.

If she dies, we'll call it leukemia.

Confidently.

She can't be allowed to die.

The blood we give her

is immediately broken down.

Look: her temperature is down again.

Until we know what happened in G49,

we have everything to fear

for the center and the region.

But this woman knows something.

She cannot die, Doctor.

Not before she's told us

what she knows, anyway.

What can you do?

Not much.

Increase the rate of transfusion.

And oxygen at 80.

Not much.

Try to keep this life

from slipping away.

I need to question her.

- Sure...

- I must!

Very well.

Put the patient in listening mode.

May I?

Go ahead.

Listen, ma'am.

I'm begging you.

The lives of a great number

of children,

of men and women,

depend entirely on what you,

and likely only you, know.

Can you hear me?

Can you hear me?

Yes. I can hear you.

What do you want?

We are very worried

about Bernard Morgan,

whom you seem to know,

or knew.

- Bernard...

- What happened to him?

Where is he?

Bernard, I'm begging you,

come to me the way I came to you.

- She's lost her mind.

- We have to hear her!

I know you're very tired,

extremely tired,

but I'm asking you

to make another effort.

Talk to me.

Tell me simple things first,

if it's easier.

How did you know Bernard Morgan?

Where did you first meet?

At his home.

Nearly a month ago.

That's where it all started.

That night...

Go on.

That night,

Bernard Morgan,

like every night when he worked late,

went for a walk along the lake.

He was coming home...

More experiments? You crack me up.

Like we've got money

to try new experiments.

I wonder how television

ever came into being.

If I told you the conditions...

I know, you didn't come

to listen to me complain.

When I think of all the money

we let you waste

at your damn center,

to make what, exactly?

Yeah.

Right.

Look at this condenser.

Where were we?

Something's wrong with the image?

Every night, at the same time?

For four days now.

After the normal programming.

What do you mean exactly?

You can adjust the image.

I tried. Nothing doing.

The buttons don't work.

The image gets clearer

on its own sometimes.

Could be a broadcast

being reflected by the stratosphere.

It's a technical anomaly,

but it happens.

I thought of that,

especially since the images

look Japanese.

What kind of antenna do you have?

Normal, interior.

Pretty far from Japan...

What channel is it on?

Both of them.

At first, I didn't check,

but then I did.

Could it be my set?

Certainly not.

The set transmits images, or not,

but doesn't produce them.

But I feel like only my set

is transmitting this program.

How do you know?

Most people don't turn the set on

when there's no programming.

I asked a few friends to hazard it.

- And?

- Nothing.

They asked me

if I wasn't seeing things,

or if I'd had a bit too much

to drink.

I don't drink, Rowlands,

and I wasn't seeing things.

If it's not the set, then it's me.

The characters seem to be speaking

to me.

That's not uncommon on television.

Remember the last presidential race?

I'm not being clear.

It's like they're speaking...

to me, Bernard Morgan, personally.

Say, old boy,

might you be attaching

a little too much importance

to something

that surely has

a technical explanation?

But the brilliant engineer

that you are

can't seem to give me one.

Right.

You, too,

you're wondering if I'm depressed.

No, no.

- How's the condenser?

- Fine.

This mystery is obsessing me.

I have to know.

OK, Morgan.

I'll come by tonight.

I have a portable device.

What do you say?

- I have to resign.

- That's what I think.

You should have sacrificed your queen

before,

but no one ever wants

to sacrifice their queen.

3 AM. And I'm back at work at 7.

Sorry I kept you so late.

With no results.

What about my chess win?

It's strange, though, isn't it?

The one time I have a witness,

and a competent one,

nothing happens.

Now you're convinced

nothing ever happened?

Not at all.

But I do think

you're taking this too seriously.

Maybe you're right.

Oh, your set.

Keep it a few days. I don't need it.

And keep me in the loop.

- Purely technical interest.

- OK.

Bye, thanks.

Right after he leaves!

- Rowlands!

- No!

Please don't call your friend.

We only want to talk to you.

Who are you?

Where are you? What do you want?

You're probably asking who I am?

Yes, and where you are?

We can't hear you.

Hang on.

CAN YOU READ THIS?

Yes, great idea.

WHO ARE YOU?

One second.

CAN'T HEAR YOU

That's normal.

The language we're using

can't reach you.

But I'm authorized

to answer your questions.

My name is Mary Seymour.

I'm from Hull, in Yorkshire.

WHERE ARE YOU NOW?

You're not going to believe me,

but we're nowhere.

We're... beyond nowhere.

We're not part of your world anymore.

ARE YOU PRISONERS?

Please don't do that!

It's dangerous.

Dangerous? For who?

No, these people are friends,

so to speak.

Don't try to understand

until we explain.

Then give me an explanation!

- Sorry, but this is all...

- First, Mr. Morgan,

we need you to swear

to keep our interactions secret.

YOU KNOW ME?

YOU KNOW ME?

Yes and no.

We know who you are,

and what you do in your

atomic facility...

Can you make that commitment?

One moment.

Three theories:

a prank from a TV studio,

you are forgiven,

you are charming.

Attempt at...

TV STUDIO PRANK. I FORGIVE YOU;

YOU'RE CHARMING.

That's not what this is,

but thank you, Mr. Morgan.

"Attempt to get atomic secrets.

Don't count on me."

SCIENCE FICTION EXPERIMENT

I'M NOT SKILLED

IN ANY CASE,

CANNOT MAKE THIS COMMITMENT

Excuse me, I need to consult

my friends.

Would you at least agree

not to tell anyone

without telling us?

My friends

will take your word for it.

If not, they'll cut us off.

They'll look for another contact.

I...

I'd regret that.

OK STAY

Your decision makes me personally

very happy, Mr. Morgan.

I very much like you.

As do I you, Miss Seymour.

My friends would like to make

our conversations easier.

They want you to hook up

a microphone to your set.

A microphone?

They're very smart.

They're sure your voice can reach us.

OK. Microphone hook-up tomorrow.

But tell me...

...something...

...right...

...now.

OK. BUT TELL ME SOMETHING

RIGHT NOW

It's difficult.

We're not part of your world anymore.

What more can I say,

if you don't believe me?

This world,

we left it in Nagasaki, where we were

when the atomic bomb

went off, twenty years ago.

But we're not dead.

What's going on?

Mary?

No use talking!

Tomorrow night!

Tomorrow night.

Tomorrow morning,

the regional broadcasts

will begin at 9:30,

with the student broadcast.

That's all for this evening.

Have a great night.

Goodnight.

Night.

Morgan?

I'm calling from the studio.

Night shift.

What can I say...

I'm being exploited.

Exactly.

Are you sure it's connected properly?

I'm wasting my time,

and whose fault is that?

I'm not upset,

but you have to admit...

OK.

OK.

No, I've got nothing.

Yes.

What about now?

Are you getting something?

No, me neither.

Usually it's right after

the broadcasts.

This is two nights now

nothing's been on.

Whatever was happening

must not be anymore.

Right.

No, I'm not worried about it anymore.

I'll let you go.

I'll let you know tomorrow.

OK.

Goodnight.

Hello, Mr. Morgan.

Hello, Mary.

Can you hear me?

Yes... very well.

You left so suddenly last night.

What happened?

Before anything else,

can you turn off the other set?

- Why?

- Please.

Thank you.

Last night, one of us

decomposed.

Decomposed?

How can I explain...

What should have happened to him

in Nagasaki finally did.

To use your language, he's dead.

Actually dead.

But what's that got to do

with the other set?

The transformation we go through

to appear here

is already very tricky.

On multiple screens at once,

it has proved dangerous.

As you might have noticed,

my friends refused to appear

as long as two sets were on.

But you, Mary... you agreed.

Someone had to maintain contact.

Even with the risks.

Didn't I already tell you

I liked you, Mr. Morgan?

My friends call me Bernard.

In any case, Bernard,

I can't stay long.

Even on one screen.

Don't worry if I have to leave

suddenly again.

- But you'll come back?

- As much as I can, yes.

- Let's not waste any time, Bernard.

- OK.

First, Mary, is there any way

we could meet

other than this way?

I can't answer you.

So it is possible?

I can't answer that, Bernard.

You're forbidden to?

Please, ask me something else.

Understood, but I'll come back to it.

What did you mean last night,

and just now,

when you referred to Nagaski?

It was during the Nagasaki incident

that my friends and I... disappeared.

As luck would have it, we were

right in the middle

of the molecular disintegration.

You mean, at the epicenter

of the explosion?

Yes.

But that's impossible.

You'd have been killed.

We weren't killed,

not in the sense you mean,

precisely because we were

at the epicenter.

Explain.

I don't understand much

of the science,

but Professor Okamura

prepared an answer.

The chain reaction

that produced the disintegration

reached the time of speed.

Reached the time of speed?

Those are the professor's words.

In other words,

it happened much faster,

at a speed much faster

than the speed of light.

What are you talking about?

That's impossible. The speed of light

cannot be surpassed, by definition.

The professor is sorry

he only speaks Japanese.

He's surprised

that you lack the imagination

not to be able to imagine

other truths than your own.

The speed he's referring to

is such that,

according to the only theory of

relativity, with your units of time,

disintegration was complete

before, or at least nearly before

having begun.

Let's say that's the case.

Then what were the consequences

for you?

First, Bernard, don't forget that

I'm just reciting a lesson,

and that I don't very well

understand what I'm saying.

Go on.

From being in a three-dimensional

state in a four-dimensional

universe, we were shifted

into a four-dimensional state

in a five-dimensional universe.

Anti-matter.

Yes! You see that it's possible,

since you thought of it.

If everything we thought

were possible...

But our appearing here, 20 years

after Nagasaki... isn't that proof?

But you're appearing to me

in a perfectly normal form.

It's thanks to the cathode-ray tube

in your television,

by integrating an image of ourselves

in a flow of electrons,

that we can temporarily appear

in this form.

That's it? How can you prove it?

I...

I don't have to prove anything.

It's Professor Okamura's discovery.

Way too easy.

The professor feels that you're

getting lost in the details.

He thought he was dealing

with a scientific mind,

not one that relies on anecdotes.

Put yourself in my place, Professor!

Would he have a scientific

outlook in the same circumstances?

You've seen the professor.

It's a question I cannot

allow myself to ask him.

Regardless, Mary,

I'm convinced

that my first hypothesis

yesterday was correct.

This is a prank,

one that's been pulled off

quite well,

but a prank all the same.

I'm delighted, by the way,

since it introduced us.

You are somewhere Mary,

very much alive.

And before long,

I'll probably be with you.

I could take your hand,

touch your face...

No, don't touch me.

Don't touch the image.

I don't exist, Bernard.

Not in the way you'd like me to,

anyway.

Then give me some scientific proof.

Give me proof.

How old do you think I am, Bernard?

Mary, I'm asking for proof.

Exactly. Answer me.

You're young. Very young.

19, 20?

Not only was I born in Hull,

like I said before,

but I worked as a nurse there.

And as a nurse,

I was taken prisoner in 1943,

by the Japanese, in Singapore,

and wound up in Nagasaki in 1945.

You can go to Hull, Bernard.

They'll tell you that a Mary Seymour

died at the age of 20

in the explosion at Nagasaki.

I have an old aunt there.

She can even show you photos of me.

You'll recognize me.

Isn't that sufficient proof?

How do you know this old aunt

is still alive?

I've seen her many times.

We can move quickly

and easily.

Have you ever appeared

on her television screen?

The poor woman,

it would have driven her mad.

What about me?

You're scared I'll lose it?

But you're a man of science, Bernard.

You can bear the shock of science.

Indeed!

You're what I'm interested in, Mary.

Nothing but you.

What do you mean?

- Are you happy?

- Happy?

The professor is confused why

I'm not asking him more questions.

He fears, as he should,

that our conversation isn't

strictly scientific.

Make him go away, Mary, please.

You should at least ask him

a question, Bernard.

Fine.

I want to know why

he established contact with me.

Because of his personal work,

and the means at his disposal

in this universe,

he believes that your atomic

research is on the wrong track.

An interesting and fruitful path

seems to have completely escaped you.

He hopes...

I have to go, Bernard. Goodbye.

Wait! Please, one moment.

Be quick.

You told me you'd follow me anywhere.

- Yes.

- Please, Mary, don't leave me.

Don't leave me.

Since we first met,

Bernard, I have always been near you.

Always.

What happens at the epicenter

of a nuclear bomb?

Yes.

It can get pretty damn hot.

I'm asking for a serious answer.

Then

start by asking a serious question.

How can we know?

What happens at a precise point

right when it goes boom.

- No one has ever seen it.

- Yes they have.

Are you messing with me?

The people in Hiroshima

and Nagasaki.

Poor bastards.

And not just the ones

at the epicenter.

They didn't have time

to write a report about it.

What's gotten into you, Bernard?

You know it's not possible

to get measurements

closer than a certain distance away.

Obviously I am aware that

in practical terms

I'm asking a stupid question.

But theoretically?

Theoretically, I'm not sure

it's good to ask that question.

There are nightmares

it's not healthy to relive.

What if I proposed a theory?

Oh, because you have one?

If the speed of the chain reaction

at that precise point,

at the time of the explosion,

surpassed the speed of light?

And that as a result,

all the matter present,

whether living or not,

was transformed into anti-matter?

Tell me, dear friend: Are you really

writing a science fiction novel

by chance?

Exactly.

Judging by your reaction,

I think I might have a knack for it.

In any case, I should probably

change the subject.

No, not at all.

When it comes to science fiction,

we can go exploring.

I read them myself,

and would you believe it,

I believe them three times

out of four!

- Tell me about your novel.

- Another time.

Really I came

to ask another favor of you.

Could you take over my department

for a day or two?

Sure, if you need it.

Thank you.

I have to go to Yorkshire

for a family matter.

Anything wrong?

Not really. Or, I don't know yet.

Seymour, Seymour...

You wouldn't believe how many

Seymours we lost

in the wars, sir.

You don't have to believe me,

but I can't get used to the idea

that all these people are dead.

I've asked to be transferred over

to the wounded section.

It's less depressing.

But someone high up

always keeps me here.

They must have their reasons.

With my poor health,

I feel less and less comfortable

here.

Mary Seymour, you said?

Yes.

Hm...

Here she is.

Poor girl, she was barely 20.

She was in Nagasaki the day when...

Oh, Christ.

Miss Mary Seymour,

volunteer in the marine nurses,

was taken prisoner by the Japanese

army in January, 1943.

We weren't informed

of the circumstances of her death

until after the Japanese army

surrendered.

You can't take this out of here,

but if you'd like to look...

Was she a relative, sir?

No.

They took her from me at 15, sir.

She had yet to become

the adorable young woman

you met

before she left for Singapore.

Were you quite close with her,

sir?

Not exactly.

We met the summer before.

Just before the war.

In France, then.

Yes, that's right.

If you don't mind, ma'am...

you'll think I'm ridiculous.

Tell me, sir!

At my age, the same things

don't seem ridiculous anymore.

That summer, Mary wore a dress

I very much liked.

Simple, but pretty. The kind that,

now that the fashion is back in,

you could almost wear these days.

You mean the little printed one,

with flowers?

Yes.

Please.

I'd like to see it again.

Alas.

Alas?

The dress disappeared, too.

Mary was quite fond of it,

and she packed it with her.

She might have even been wearing it

at the moment she...

Hang on.

Come.

Here she is, wearing the dress.

She hasn't changed.

Pardon?

Excuse me, ma'am.

I mean she looks just

as I remember her.

Would I be wrong, sir,

to presume you loved her?

I love her now.

And I'm sure she can hear me

saying it.

Mary.

I was in Hull with you, Bernard.

I heard what you said to my aunt.

- That I love you.

- How can that be, Bernard?

I don't exist, and now you know that.

Probably, Mary.

And yet I love you.

No, Bernard. Not me.

An image of me from 20 years ago.

The frozen image you're holding.

I stole it from your aunt.

Soon, the fact that it's frozen

will make you depressed.

And the other one?

The other image that's right here

in front of me,

warm and alive...

It's the same.

It's cold, too!

It's no more alive than the other.

It's even worse.

It's a suspended image,

one that's already lost,

floating around in a universe

you can't even imagine.

That's a mistake, Mary.

Don't move.

Don't move.

You could mistake them.

I mean, if you don't look carefully,

you'd see the same image.

But not me.

What you call a lost image,

I tear it away from the mysterious

universe.

I heat it up with my love,

I nourish it.

I give it life.

For me, you're full of life.

I'm scared.

You're caught, Mary,

right down to your fear,

which proves it to me.

You're caught in the trap of love.

This is crazy, Bernard!

- You don't know a thing about me.

- So what?

Love is the contempt

for whatever it is not.

It's that huge, immense force

that makes us reinvent the person

we love, for ourselves alone.

No, I don't know anything about you,

Mary,

but I expect to.

And I'm sure I will.

- And if the one we love...

- Shh.

I'll say everything.

If the one we love,

if we love them enough,

they become, truly and naturally,

the person we've invented.

Love brings us to another universe,

too, Mary.

But at the same time,

in spite of all that,

I didn't know until a moment ago.

I just discovered it,

but I'm sure of it, all of it.

You're not still wondering

whether I love you.

Now,

I wonder why.

You're very demanding, Mary.

You wouldn't ask me anything

if I took your hand in mine.

But you can't take my hand, Bernard!

That doesn't matter, Mary.

I'll love you anyway.

It's almost abhorrent, Bernard.

Maybe, but it's true love.

I love you because I need you, Mary.

But I could never have loved another.

I want to give you everything I have

to give.

But what can you give me?

Where I am, I don't need anything.

But the desire to need something,

something that would come from me.

And life, first of all.

- Life...

- Yes...

I want to save you, Mary.

I want to...

I want to give you back

your flesh and blood,

give you your destiny back.

It's impossible, Bernard.

No. I'll find a way.

I'll study what caused you to

disappear. I'll do research.

I'll find a way to reverse it.

I'll seek out the best minds.

I'll bring you back.

You gave your word

you'd keep this a secret!

Or to let you know first.

And I will let you know.

I'll get help from Professor Okamura

if needed.

He'd never agree to help you.

He established the premise

that our transformation

was irreversible.

Do you hear that?

Irreversible.

Why?

Do I really have to tell you?

Yes.

Because of the horror of humankind.

The professor only remembers

his own self,

and his actions 20 years ago,

with disgust.

Don't forget, Bernard,

that we see you living.

Everything that has happened

on earth since then

only increased this disgust

for humans.

Do you share that disgust,

Mary?

No.

No, but I depend on the professor.

I'll convince him.

I'll convince him.

I'll remind him that he was the one

who made contact.

Only for scientific purposes.

- And even...

- What?

Haven't you noticed anything,

Bernard?

I came alone today.

Indeed...

Professor Okamura and our friends

are at this very moment discussing

whether to further pursue

this experiment

of communicating with Earth.

You mean they might decide

to stop it?

I'm afraid so, especially since

it is proving to be

very dangerous for us.

I've already come too often.

I've lost a part of myself.

A part of yourself?

How can I explain?

In this universe,

I exist less.

I've become blurry, if you will.

If I came back again,

I might decompose entirely.

Don't you see

that I'm farther away than usual?

Farther and farther...

But, then...

Yes, Bernard. You won't see me again.

This is the last time.

That can't be! I don't want that!

Unless you want to lose me entirely.

But I'm losing you entirely

if I won't see you again.

I love you, Bernard.

You won't see me again.

But I'll always be with you.

With you.

In you.

In the air you breathe.

In your thoughts.

How can I be satisfied with that?

I want to be able to see you

and hear you.

Better yet, I want to hold you

in my arms and kiss you.

I'll find a way.

I'll find a way.

I don't need the professor.

I don't need his support.

Or mine, Bernard.

It's you, Mary.

You won't come?

No.

But why not??

You should understand.

On your screen, I appear

the way I looked when I disappeared,

twenty years ago.

If I came back to earth...

Oh, Bernard...

Farewell.

Mary!

Mary, come back anyway!

Mary, please.

Mary...

Come back.

Mary.

I love her, Professor.

I'm begging you,

helping me get her back.

Send her back to us.

I speak your language

to a certain degree.

Since Miss Seymour isn't here,

Professor Okamura

asked me to interpret for him.

He has asked me to tell you

that, with our agreement,

he has decided not to further pursue

this attempt at a scientific exchange

with the people of Earth.

His reasons, sir...

Let's just say

that the initial results

seemed to him not only pointless,

but could be the cause

of a dangerous degree of chaos.

As a result,

he offers you his regrets

and bids you forgive him

for his unwelcome intrusion

into your life.

Mary, sir.

You haven't told me anything

about Mary.

The professor is aware

of his responsibility,

and deems it just

to offer Miss Seymour,

with her full understanding

of the risks entailed,

the possibility to appear

as she wishes

on your screen.

Miss Seymour

declined. She was very clear.

One other thing, sir.

We in no way forbid you

to discuss what happened here

with anyone you'd like.

But we advise against it.

We feel it necessary

to bring your attention

to the fact that you will not

be believed,

and, given the strange nature

of your experience,

people might fear

for your mental stability.

And now, sir, please allow me

to take leave of you.

Chance has bestowed upon me

a kind of afterlife.

It would be disagreeable to me

to risk losing it by debating

the affairs of a world

to which I am now indifferent.

My valedictions, sir.

To put it bluntly,

you're worrying me.

Your department,

at least what you oversee,

hasn't been making progress.

You've been absent quite a bit.

It isn't the policy here to

ask colleagues of your rank

to justify their absences.

But I hold you in high esteem,

and given the quality

of your reports,

I feel justified in noting that

your absences are not justifed.

Or, if you'd rather,

they aren't justified by reasons,

forgive the term,

by reasonable reasons.

I forgive the term,

since it is correct.

I just decided to stay home.

Doing nothing.

That said, you don't look too good.

I'm surprised,

given how well dressed you usually

are,

not to say your vanity of style.

You're looking shabbier by the day.

You didn't even shave this morning.

Something's not right.

Is there anything I can do to help?

Understand. I like you, Morgan.

Don't feel obligated

to confide in me,

but I do have to make a decision.

I'm putting you on leave, Morgan.

Right away.

A month, for now.

If it needs to be longer,

we'll discuss it.

Take this time to get better.

I'd say your batteries

could use some recharging.

What about taking a trip?

All right, Director.

Thank you.

But if you need me,

I'll be at home.

I'm not leaving.

A little trip, though,

to the Mediterranean, say?

I'd rather stay home.

It's up to you, Morgan.

But it's a shame.

Hello?

Yes, it's me.

Yes, we haven't met.

No, sir.

I never listen to the radio.

And I don't watch TV, either.

A personal message?

After the news bulletin?

From whom?

Miss Mary Seymour?

Please repeat that, sir.

"That I make sure to get in touch

"tonight, at the usual hour,

"with Miss Mary Seymour."

Thank you, sir.

Oh, Mary.

Mary.

Thank you.

Yes?

OK.

Yes, from Miss Mary Seymour.

They just told me.

I'm glad you're confirming.

Yes, that's right, at the usual hour,

after the television program.

Thank you, ma'am.

Oh, my God!

Ten minutes. Rowlands.

- Mr. Morgan?

- Yes, sir.

The radio just played a message

for you.

Since I was around, I figured...

- Thanks, I heard.

- In that case, my respects, sir.

Excuse me, sir.

Would you do me a favor?

I need to borrow something from

my friend's television station.

It's urgent... since your car

is already ready...

- Of course.

- Thank you.

Gym class begins at 6:30.

That's all for tonight.

Have a wonderful evening.

I understand your disappointment,

Mr. Morgan.

Know that this

isn't any more pleasant for me

than it is for you.

I'm taking a risk for her,

and one that I don't find

particularly useful.

I don't care about your feelings.

I was supposed to meet Mary.

Why didn't she come?

Think of me as serving

as an intermediary.

I will stick to telling you

what I've been asked to.

OK, go ahead.

Miss Seymour, much good it did her,

was so sensitive to your state

that she won over Professor Okamura.

The professor wants to offer you

the chance to join us here.

I mean, join Miss Seymour,

since that's what this is all about.

How? Tell me.

Understand that to you,

it looks like suicide.

Spare me the commentary.

I've been asked to tell you this.

But I won't insist.

I know what a futile being you are.

Out with it!

Please, don't do that.

You'll destroy me.

OK, I'm listening.

You just need to place yourself

at the center of an atomic explosion.

Nothing could be simpler for you.

That's insane.

You're scared?

Not for me.

There could be other victims.

You're clearly a brilliant mind,

Morgan.

Anyone else in your situation

would immediately

have thought of the atomic grenades

in your facility,

where you're a manager.

The explosion of a grenade,

even an atomic one,

is fairly restricted.

But why didn't Mary tell me this

herself?

It's a tough decision.

Miss Seymour was afraid

her being here would influence you.

One last thing.

I have to tell you that I cannot

explain in your language

what form you will find.

Miss Seymour in our universe.

The same form you yourself

will find yourself in.

In any case, love, in our universe,

can't mean the same thing,

nor have the same embodiment,

if I may, as in yours.

See you soon, sir.

See you soon, Mary.

Evening.

Bernard enters the facility.

He doesn't see anyone.

He doesn't reply to anyone.

His office...

He hesitates a moment,

destroys his pass,

heads to the facilities,

avoids the security guards,

gets to G49, and...

And then?

That's the end. Leave me.

I don't know enough.

What happened then?

Then...

Make an effort, ma'am.

He takes a grenade,

pulls the pin,

throws it down,

and it explodes.

Explodes.

Bernard disappears,

and I... I, who had never left him.

I, who wanted to be near him,

with him,

in him.

I, Mary Seymour!

I woke up in my old form!

You look at me

and ask how Bernard could have loved

this old woman!

Don't you understand? In this body,

I regained my true age.

That's why.

This is why I said no to Bernard.

So he wouldn't see me like this.

That's why.

What's going on?

It's over.

Poor woman. Probably mad.

A madwoman with some very

precise information.

She recounted nearly word for word

a conversation I had with Morgan.

Well.

Morgan surely knew this woman.

He could have told it to her.

So, Dawson?

What did you learn about Morgan?

Some interesting things, Director.

That he came to the facility

last night

at 1:10 AM, to be precise.

He had no reason to be here.

He tore up his pass.

Here's the pieces.

We found them on his desk.

He's gone, of course.

Didn't leave a trace.

- What about at his house?

- Nothing out of the ordinary.

See,

he really tore up his pass.

- Anything else?

- Nothing special.

A little messy.

Oh, his television set was broken.

- The screen, you mean?

- Yes.

He had made some strange

adjustments to his set.

He had a mic on it.

But that has nothing to do with this.

There was a second, portable set,

too.

It was Rowlands's.

- Excuse me, sir?

- Go on, Dawson.

Nothing odd among his papers.

Except, perhaps...

But it makes no sense.

It might lead us somewhere.

"Attempt to get atomic secrets.

Don't count on me."

What do you think about this?

"Science fiction experiment?

I'm not skilled."

We could agree on that.

"TV studio prank. I forgive you;

you're charming."

A prank that went sideways.

No, I don't think so.

If you call Hull,

and go to see Rowlands,

and go to the police station,

we'll get other,

equally troubling confirmations.

You should have brought the photo.

The photo?

The photo of a young woman

in a summer dress

that should have been on the shelf.

This one, sir?

- I don't follow.

- Don't worry. I'll explain.

If I can. Come, Dawson.

What do you think?

It's her, and yet it isn't.

It's the same dress.

We'll never have the last word

on this.

I must ask you to keep this secret.

I'm counting on your staff as well.

Understood, sir.

I asked for a press statement,

Dawson.

- Here it is, sir.

- Thanks.

Sir...

Gentlemen, excuse me.

Thank you.

Mr. McGovern,

Director of the Eurefalls Center,

will read an official statement

regarding tonight's accident.

The director

will not be taking questions.

Rolling.

Director's statement, take one.

On Wednesday night

at 1:43 AM,

there was a minor explosion

at the Eurefalls

nuclear reserach facility.

The explosion occurred in a sector

that is highly protected.

One of our most distinguished

colleagues,

the engineer Bernard Morgan,

who was doing routine checks

in a neighboring area,

was hit by the blast

and was, sadly, killed.

Fortunately,

there were no other victims.

As the facility's director,

I can assure you that

no fissionable materials

were exposed to any risk.

The explosion,

which hit only normal explosives,

was produced by an abnormal

overheating of these explosives,

which was caused by a short-circuit.

There is no risk of radioactivity.

These are, by the way,

under constant surveillance,

and we have no abnormal measurements

in the hours following the accident.

We are aware of all the circumstances

surrounding the accident

and have taken steps to ensure

that such an accident

will not occur in the future.

THE LADY FROM BEYOND NOWHERE

Adam Lozier

Subtitling: Hiventy