Lunacy (2005) - full transcript
A horror movie testing two approaches to running an insane asylum - absolute freedom versus control and punishment - within the context of a world that combines the worst of both. Jean Berlot, a young man subject to a nightmare of being forced into a straitjacket by two orderlies, is befriended by a marquis. At the marquis's estate, Jean witnesses a black Mass, buries someone alive, and is invited to try preventive therapy. He's willing to enter a sanatorium because he believes he can rescue a young woman from there who has told him that the real director and staff of the clinic are locked in the basement. Jean conspires with her to set them free: the horrors have only begun.
No!
No! No!
No!
Leave me alone!
Go away!
Leave me alone!
Open up! Do you hear?
- Leave me alone!
- Open up this minute!
Wake up!
Are you raving mad?
You're in luck, though
you don't deserve to be.
The Marquis says
he'll pay for the damage.
What Marquis?
- I'm most grateful...
- Don't mention it.
Sit down and eat.
You must be starving
after a night like that.
He's my guest!
And a glass!
So my friend,
what am I to call you?
My name's Jean. Jean Berlot.
Well, my dear Jean... Cheers.
- Cheers.
- To your good health!
Your good... mental health!
In you get!
We've a long drive ahead of us.
Come along, you too!
Right. Let's go.
- Where are you heading?
- Home. I'm going home.
Going home? So am I.
Lormes. I'm going to Lormes.
That's on my way.
I'll give you a lift.
I don't know what I've done
to deserve such kindness.
You don't know me.
Give me your hand.
It's alright, I won't bite.
The left one.
Someone very close
to you died recently.
My mother. I'm on my
way back from her funeral.
This is the only keepsake
I have of her.
Why are you burying her
so far from home?
She died in an institution.
What kind of 'institution'?
What kind of 'institution'?
The asylum at Charenton.
My mother was insane.
And your father?
He died years ago.
He was much older.
Mother never got over it.
And you take after your mother.
Do you often have that dream?
Only when I'm unhappy
or under stress.
When something upsets
my routine...
- That's when they come.
- They?
Do you have any
brothers or sisters?
Just as well.
So, young man, this is
the parting of our ways.
Fetch some clothes for Jean,
light the stove
and make some tea.
Get out of those wet things
or you'll catch cold.
It was just a harmless prank.
I apologise.
Never mind me and do as I say!
Don't argue. Just go!
- They cut out his tongue.
- Who?
Tell young Jean
who cut out your tongue.
Why are you hesitating,
my dear Jean.
May I call you Jean?
You can relax for a few days.
No one's expecting you.
Or are they?
- Well then.
- It's a kind offer.
But I cannot
abuse your goodness.
Never utter that word!
Fools and hypocrites
talk of goodness to mask
their evil intentions.
I am neither fool nor hypocrite.
If I offer you hospitality,
I have my reasons.
O Christ, prince of impostors,
thief of our noblest pleasures!
Listen to me!
All you've done since you
crawled from that Virgin's belly
is shirk your responsibilities
and break all your promises!
For centuries we've waited,
but still you remain silent!
You promised salvation, but not
a single soul have you saved!
You monster, who in
your cruelty created life
and inflicted it on every
innocent soul, then cursed us,
in the name of some unknown
power, with 'original sin',
only in order to punish us in the
name of that same 'authority'!
We demand you confess!
Admit you lied to us!
Confess to your heinous,
inexcusable crimes!
We shall drive new nails
even deeper into your flesh
and crown your brow
with even sharper thorns,
until your agonized blood spurts
from your dried-up wounds!
Worthless being,
in whose name
so much blood has been spilt!
You are nothing, a mere figment
of man's foolish hopes and fears!
You only exist
to torment mankind!
What suffering we could
have been spared
if we had strangled that first
idiot who uttered your name!
Show yourself! Go on,
punish me for insulting you!
I despise your glory!
I scorn your bounty!
You claim to work miracles,
so let's see one now!
If you exist, God, appear to us!
Don't hide from me, you whore!
Come back at once!
- I'm leaving. -Sit down
and have some breakfast.
Under the circumstances
I can stay here no longer.
And what circumstances
would these be?
Last night I happened
to witness certain...
So you were snooping?
Sit down.
Sit down, have some food
and stop sulking like a child.
I thought you were a grown-up.
It's got nothing to do with being
grown-up. That was blasphemy!
It was a crime!
And that bothers you...
blasphemy and crime?
Are you still a virgin?
We must do something about that.
Stop!
Sit down!
What exactly did you not like
about last night?
Was it that we were acting as
free, unprejudiced individuals?
Rejecting false morality
and slavish convention
in favour of pleasure?
Using our imagination, rebelling?
Is that what you object to?
It's against nature.
It's against God and religion.
Wait... one thing at a time.
What does nature give us?
Is she not greedy, destructive,
cruel, fickle
and utterly callous?
Wouldn't you say that what she
does best is murder and maim?
Don't you see that evil
is her natural element?
That she uses
her creative powers
only to fill the world with
blood, tears and sorrow?
She is our mother.
What kind of mother expends all
her energy causing disasters?
Mercilessly and systematically
murdering her own children?
Just look at that
'mother' of yours
and you'll see she only creates
in order to destroy.
All she does is murder!
So why should we, her children,
behave any better?
I would kill a mother like that!
And as for God...
Nature at least exists independent
of our will and desires.
But God is merely a figment
of human fears and hopes.
People have always been unhappy.
They've always been afraid.
They look for the cause of their
suffering and hope it will end.
So they dream up a mythical God
hoping he will grant their wishes.
God is no more than a fantasy
- born of our fear and weakness.
- But religion teaches us...
What does Christian dogma tell us
about this mighty God of yours?
What does your religion
have to say about him?
All I see is a fickle
and barbaric being,
who creates the world one day,
only to regret it the next,
a feeble creature incapable of
making people do what he wants!
But if God made us perfect, why
strive to be worthy of salvation?
What banality! Why should
people be worthy of their God?
Making us incapable of evil,
that would be
an act worthy of God!
But give a man freedom of choice
and you give him temptation.
God in his infinite wisdom must
have known where that would lead.
He leads his own creatures
astray simply to amuse himself.
What a terrible God!
What a monstrous God!
A mischievous God who deserves
only our hatred and vengeance!
But don't you fear God's wrath?
His retribution?
God will never forgive
such terrible blasphemy.
And aren't you a monster, forcing
defenceless, innocent girls to...
Defenceless and innocent!
What a joke!
I warned you...
I shouldn't have watched.
I shouldn't have listened.
God forgive me...
Our Father, which is in heaven,
Hallowed be Thy name...
Do... mi... nic!
Dominic!
Dominic!
Dominic!
Dominic! Hurry!
Your master needs you!
Quick, he's dying!
Call for a priest. We can't let
him die in such terrible sin!
Come on!
Do you hear?
I know you're there!
Open the door!
Do you hear?
He's dying!
Come on!
Hurry!
Come on!
Dear Friend, you are doubtless
puzzled by all you have seen here.
I apologize if I have caused
you any distress,
though perhaps my apology
will mean little to you.
Chance brought us briefly
together. Now, before we part,
I ask for your help.
You owe it to me.
Go with Dominic, help him.
Follow his orders,
however strange they may
seem to your naive soul.
Your Marquis.
You can't just bury him!
How do you know
he's really dead?
Has a doctor seen him
or even a quack?
What if he's only unconscious?
Call a doctor, quickly!
He may still be alive.
Do something!
You won't get away with it.
You'll end up
under the guillotine.
You can't just
bury him like that!
You villain... you evil rat!
They should have cut off your
head, not just your tongue!
You're even more of
a monster than your master!
God, how did I get into this?
You nearly killed me!
They used to do this
in ancient Egypt.
Only they would chuck in
a couple of dead slaves too.
What's the idea?
Listen to me! Are we going
to spend the whole night here?
You've just been using me
for your disgusting games.
You wanted to frighten me.
Just to amuse yourself.
Not content with blasphemy
and debauchery and rape,
you're also a...
I understand you're upset.
Perhaps I owe you an explanation.
The 'disgusting game' that you
saw and took part in last night,
that monstrous spectatcle,
was not for your benefit.
I merely needed
your physical strength.
You saw what hard work it was
pushing the cart to the graveyard,
much too hard for one man.
And as for the tombstone...
That clown nearly killed me!
But I asked you in my letter to
help Dominic and do as he said.
It was your fault.
Besides, he's is an excellent
shot. That's only a scratch.
Goodbye.
Without waiting
to hear my story?
That's not very courteous.
I listened to your story.
It may make you think
more kindly of me.
You will see that you and I are
not as different as you think.
In fact our stories are
very similar... identical.
Like you, I had a loving mother.
She died when I was five. We
buried her in the family vault.
My father was devastated and
died of grief a few years later.
Does that remind you of
anything? Now listen to this:
When we took my father's coffin to
the vault and removed the stone,
we found Mother's decomposed body
on the steps, her nails all torn.
Yes, we had buried her alive.
She'd had a cataleptic fit
and the doctor
had pronounced her dead.
But she woke up in the coffin.
She managed to push open the lid,
though not the heavy stone slab.
I have been reliving her
ghastly ordeal ever since.
You've heard of
reflex psychosis?
My identification
with her was so strong
I too became cataleptic.
I'd go into trances.
Briefly at first...
then for hours, even days.
I started to have another phobia.
That I would end up like her,
that like her I would
be buried alive.
But I also yearned to experience
the same suffering as her.
That's how much I love my mother.
Are you reminded of anything?
This desire became an obsession,
that couldn't be suppressed.
In time a found a way to satisfy
it, which also lessened my fear.
At least for a while.
That is what you witnessed last
night: my purgative therapy.
Now I can live normally again,
at least for a while.
Excuse my for dragging you
into my private affairs.
You aren't the only one who
still uses his mother's comb.
No, leave me alone!
Let me go!
Wake up!
Was it them again?
It's all right, I was going
to have it redecorated anyway.
Do stop crying.
It's my fault.
The excitement has upset you.
I'll work to pay for the damage.
I have a better idea.
I think I can help you.
Don't worry.
The director, Dr Murlloppe,
is a friend of mine.
It's all arranged. But you
needn't feel under any pressure.
Just look on it as
an experiment.
If it doesn't help you,
call me and I'll take you
away at once.
Knowing you can leave at any time
should in itself be therapeutic.
You've seen how my own
preventive therapy has helped me.
Most of all we fear the unknown.
What we know, we no longer fear.
And you can satisfy your
secret urge to suffer
as your mother did
in a similar institution.
- No, I...
- Be honest with yourself!
Don't deny
your repressed desires!
Marquis...
I am Dr Murlloppe.
Welcome to the sanatorium.
- Berlot.
- This way, gentlemen.
Charlotte!
This way please.
Charlotte! We have important
visitors! Charlotte!
Why didn't you tell me?
I want nothing to do with him!
I'm not fooled
by his false beard!
- I can't possibly stay...
- My daughter Charlotte.
She helps with
the patients and paperwork.
Go and make some tea, my dear.
Mr Berlot, our mutual friend
has told me why you are here.
I believe you are a suitable
case for 'preventive therapy'.
But it will only work if applied
of the patient's own free will.
Even then the effects may be
only of limited duration.
Medical science has yet to find
a permanent cure
for obsessive states.
Follow me.
Before you finally commit
yourself let me show you round.
We believe in modern methods
rather than fancy new equipment.
There is no coercion...
Yes, yes... There you go!
No punishment, no straitjackets,
no electric shocks.
We treat the patients as equals.
Let me show you something.
Well? What do you think?
Our art therapy.
- The ball. Please.
- No thank you.
Excuse me.
They seem happy, don't they?
Good girl!
- Mine! Mine!
- May I?
Right or left?
Gentlemen, please.
Where are your clothes?
And what's that? Give it to me!
Those are dangerous.
Take them back
to the kitchen. Go!
Go on, off with you!
Get back to bed
before you catch cold.
You must rest.
Charlotte, dearest.
Look after them, will you?
So... what's your decision?
I'll stay.
Wait here while I see about
the admission formalities.
I'll be right back.
So you knew she was his daughter
and he was abusing her!
My dear fellow, you mustn't
believe everything you're told.
She's asked me to help her.
If I've decided to stay
it's only for her sake.
My own problems are secondary.
- You think it's funny?
- Little bitch!
- Don't speak about her like that!
- I do believe he's in love!
Don't tell me
I didn't warn you.
She's a nymphomaniac
and a hysteric.
Just going to bed with
somebody's not enough for her.
Normal sex isn't enough for her.
She likes it special... kinky.
She's a devious whore,
like the rest of them.
- I forbid you to speak of her...
- That's all taken care of.
Come, I'll show you
to your room.
It's me, Charlotte.
Thank you. It was very noble
of you to say you'd stay.
I don't know what to do.
Terrible things go on here.
- Doctor Murlloppe is a madman.
- Your father?
He's not my father. He's a violent
maniac. So is the Marquis.
Some time ago they stirred up
a revolt among the inmates.
They locked up the real director
and staff of the sanatorium.
They're still down in the cellar.
They only spared me because...
...you saw what happened
at the Marquis' castle.
You are our only hope.
I trust you.
My life is in your hands.
So, what exactly
did you have in mind?
A tableau vivant
representing Liberty.
Like Delacroix' painting.
An interesting idea.
I think it will reflect
the spirit of our celebrations.
And our philosophy! All our
resources are at your disposal.
Thank you. I intend to
make full use of them.
- When do you start? -At once.
The anniversary of our...
of your sanatorium is on Sunday.
There's no time to lose.
What do you think of the
Marquis' idea, Mr Berlot?
I think it's splendid.
Charlotte dear, I hope you will
also take part in the project.
Hold that arm a bit higher.
To the right.
No... back a little.
That's it!
Now your other arm.
Further from your body.
Hold it there! You, Sir.
It's a rifle, not a broom!
You're fighting for liberty,
not clearing snow!
That's it!
No gentlemen, please!
That's no way to work!
Break!
Well? Any progress?
With Charlotte.
Knowing her,
she'll be in no hurry.
Foreplay, you know. Some women
absolutely insist on it.
Some even prefer foreplay
to actual intercourse.
That's all they want...
foreplay. For a long, long time.
Nothing but foreplay.
You're disgusting.
You know nothing about her.
Wait! Has she given you
her party piece yet?
All that guff about a mutiny.
It really turns her on!
The libido can take strange
forms. Once again I warn you:
She's a cunning nymphomaniac.
You'd be way out of your depth.
Ask Dr Murlloppe about her,
before you do anything silly.
He's the real expert. Her
medical record is that thick.
Why did he lie about her
being his daughter?
I don't know. Ask him. Maybe
it's part of the treatment.
Break's over, gentlemen.
Let's continue.
I couldn't get away sooner. The
Marquis kept changing everything.
He terrifies me.
- When was this mutiny?
- A year ago... exactly.
That's why
they're celebrating...
Didn't you realize? And now
they want me to take part.
Those madmen have been in charge
for a year and no one's noticed?
Does no one ever visit?
Relatives, inspectors,
the postman...?
Who brings your food?
Surely someone
must have noticed?
Don't you believe me?
Of course.
It just seems rather...
You think I made it all up?
Why would I do that?
I thought that you at least...
- No! -You've ruined everything.
- I didn't mean to...
You want proof?
I'll give you proof!
Come with me.
Dr Coulmiere... Sir...
Before they locked them up they
covered them in tar and feathers.
- Whatever for?
- To humiliate them.
To degrade the authority
they stand for.
It's a custom from
the French Revolution.
- I bet it was the Marquis' idea.
- I've never found the cell keys.
I'm sure they're in Murlloppe's
study. We must find them.
O holy passion...!
O holy passion...!
O holy passion, proud emotion
'Tis you we hold
in deep devotion
Wise men bow before your might
To be uplifted in your sight
Thus Nature...
Thus Nature...
Thus Nature kindles our desires
And Her command
to 'crime' inspires
Sweet acts and
sensual diversions
Said by fools to be perversions
Give us the joy
that Nature loves
Lust and vice fit us like gloves
And all our being swells sublime
When we commit a bestial crime
When after years
of carnal pleasure
She gathers us back
to Her treasure
Mocking the gods
we'll hasten home
To the great bounty of Her womb
She's whore and
mother to us all...
She's whore and
mother to us all
Alike embracing great and small
Wicked or good,
on us She'll smile
Our noble deeds or murders vile
- Marvellous! Congratulations!
- Thank you.
Didn't you like it?
It's wicked to brainwash the
mentally ill with stuff like that!
- Luckily they don't understand.
- Are you sure?
And now... the crowning
glory of the evening!
Bravo! Long live Liberty!
Long live Liberty!
Long live Liberty!
Long live Liberty!
Long live Liberty!
Long live Liberty!
Long live Liberty!
The festivities are over!
Now all go back to your rooms!
Thank you for rescuing me.
Now my dear Marquis, it's time
we thought about ourselves
and our own celebration!
I trust you're coming
with us, Charlotte.
Charlotte is staying here.
She's my fianc?e.
As her father, I think
I might have been informed.
Alright, we'll take Mlle Rosset.
Mademoiselle Rosset!
No, I'll go!
The coach is ready.
This is your chance.
Tonight you must set them free.
I'll make sure we don't get back
till the morning.
Yes, Father...
I want it now!
She's whore and mother to us all
Alike embracing great and small
Wicked or good,
on us She'll smile
Our noble deeds or murders vile
Long live liberty!
Long live liberty!
Long live liberty...!
Thank God, he's coming round!
Now all is well.
Your heroic deed will go down
in the annals of the sanatorium.
We are free at last! Soon this
will seem like a bad dream.
This is the man who hit you on
the head. He'd like to apologise.
Now back to work!
Make us some tea, my dear.
It must have been ghastly for you,
in the clutches of those lunatics.
We've already caught Murlloppe,
and we'll soon catch the Marquis.
He's a dangerous criminal,
a pervert and a libertine.
If he hadn't been sent here
he'd have gone to the guillotine.
A complex case. But I have
no sympathy for him.
Murlloppe was a fine psychiatrist.
One of the very best.
His prevention therapy
is quite brilliant
if used in conjunction with
other techniques such as
electric shocks, solitary
confinement and punishment.
But the 'free will' method
he began to introduce latterly,
based on a more liberal attitude,
that was bound to fail.
There's no place for freedom
in a lunatic asylum.
Without the evil influence of the
Marquis, he'd have realized this.
But the rogue only encouraged
him in his efforts,
using some perverse philosophy to
justify his monstrous experiments.
In the end Murlloppe, too, became
a psychotic and a libertine.
That's when he was dismissed as
director, and became my patient.
My method is based on traditional
conservative principles:
strict supervision
and punishment.
Aren't you interested?
As a deeply religious man,
I believe our whole life is
a constant struggle between
the mind and the body.
A struggle for our mental
and physical well-being.
If the mind gains the upper hand,
the body becomes susceptible
to illness: infectious diseases,
coronaries, cancer...
In this state people even become
more prone to accidents!
If the body proves the stronger,
the result is mental illness.
That's why my method is based
on corporal punishment.
Yes! If the mind is sick
we must subdue the body.
Only by weakening the body
can we restore the balance.
The more severe the illness,
the more severe the punishment.
Do drink your tea.
It's horrible cold.
We've caught them!
- Where did you find them?
- In Avalon, at a roadside inn.
They didn't get far.
Bring them in.
Do you still not understand?
You won't be laughing long.
Charlotte, get me his file.
Yes... treatment number eight.
Seems to have healed nicely.
So we can go on
to treatment nine.
Take him away!
I know your case history
by heart.
In your case, my dear Marquis,
I must make a rare exception.
I am reluctant... in fact
I have never done this before.
But you leave me with no choice.
Last time we applied number five,
so now it should be number six.
But now
for the promised exception.
Prepare the operating theatre
for treatment number thirteen!
No! You can't do that!
Yes I can.
In fact I must.
Jean...
Charlotte... don't let him!
No! No! No!
What is treatment
number thirteen?
As I said, my method
is to weaken the body
to restore its harmony
with the mind.
This is achieved this by a series
of 13 corporal punishments.
These are applied progressively
until we find the right balance.
Go too far, and the body becomes
sick. Pneumonia, prostate cancer.
- What is treatment thirteen?
- We always begin with number one.
Twenty strokes of the whip.
This usually cures 50% of
all non-acute new cases.
Mostly malingerers
and neurasthenics.
Treatment eight, as you saw,
is the removal of the tongue.
And number thirteen?
That's a treatment I always
administer personally.
Come along, Charlotte dear.
I'll need your help.
What is treatment thirteen?
I wish to leave at once.
Charlotte is coming with me.
That's not possible.
It's against the rules.
Patients may be discharged
only at 8 a. m.
- It's now... 9 p. m.
- But that's absurd.
I'm not a patient!
I'm here voluntarily. I was told
I could leave whenever I liked!
- Who told you that?
- The sanatorium director.
I am the sanatorium director.
Besides, it's ten miles
to the nearest coach stop.
There's one coach a day,
at 11 a. m.
You can leave in the morning,
after being formally discharged.
That's the usual procedure.
And now I have work to do.
- Where's Charlotte?
- She went to lie down.
She went to have a rest.
She sends her apologies.
How is the Marquis?
- He's alright now.
- Poor fellow.
You're sorry for him,
after how he treated you?
Read this.
You were to be a guinea-pig
for their monstrous experiments.
He'd have kept you here for ever.
And still you pity him!
Take Mr Berlot to his room.
Charlotte!
Charlotte, it's me, Jean!
Have you come to admire
your handiwork?
- What did they do to you?
- Treatment number ten.
Coulmiere made an exception
in my case, too.
What about the Marquis?
He screamed terribly,
but now he's calmed down.
You let that whore manipulate
you. This is the result.
That's a lie! I love her
and I'm going to marry her.
In a few hours we'll be leaving
this madhouse forever.
Then I ought to give you a few
tips for your conjugal life.
I bet the whore's in bed with
that madman Coulmiere as we speak.
And now, darling Charlotte,
for the climax of our soir?e.
It arrived today from Paris,
special delivery.
Let me see!
- Shall I open it?
- Yes! I can't wait!
You can't back out now...
after we've waited so long.
No of course not.
Let's do it... now!
Leave me alone!
Leave me alone!
I'm not mad!
Leave me alone!
Wake up!
You did this!
It's all your fault!
My friend, your vital equilibrium
is seriously disturbed.
Your body has become
too dominant.
And now your mind is sick.
But don't despair, I'll cure you.
Let's start at the beginning.
Apply treatment number one!
No! No!
No!
Leave me alone!
Go away!
Leave me alone!
Open up! Do you hear?
- Leave me alone!
- Open up this minute!
Wake up!
Are you raving mad?
You're in luck, though
you don't deserve to be.
The Marquis says
he'll pay for the damage.
What Marquis?
- I'm most grateful...
- Don't mention it.
Sit down and eat.
You must be starving
after a night like that.
He's my guest!
And a glass!
So my friend,
what am I to call you?
My name's Jean. Jean Berlot.
Well, my dear Jean... Cheers.
- Cheers.
- To your good health!
Your good... mental health!
In you get!
We've a long drive ahead of us.
Come along, you too!
Right. Let's go.
- Where are you heading?
- Home. I'm going home.
Going home? So am I.
Lormes. I'm going to Lormes.
That's on my way.
I'll give you a lift.
I don't know what I've done
to deserve such kindness.
You don't know me.
Give me your hand.
It's alright, I won't bite.
The left one.
Someone very close
to you died recently.
My mother. I'm on my
way back from her funeral.
This is the only keepsake
I have of her.
Why are you burying her
so far from home?
She died in an institution.
What kind of 'institution'?
What kind of 'institution'?
The asylum at Charenton.
My mother was insane.
And your father?
He died years ago.
He was much older.
Mother never got over it.
And you take after your mother.
Do you often have that dream?
Only when I'm unhappy
or under stress.
When something upsets
my routine...
- That's when they come.
- They?
Do you have any
brothers or sisters?
Just as well.
So, young man, this is
the parting of our ways.
Fetch some clothes for Jean,
light the stove
and make some tea.
Get out of those wet things
or you'll catch cold.
It was just a harmless prank.
I apologise.
Never mind me and do as I say!
Don't argue. Just go!
- They cut out his tongue.
- Who?
Tell young Jean
who cut out your tongue.
Why are you hesitating,
my dear Jean.
May I call you Jean?
You can relax for a few days.
No one's expecting you.
Or are they?
- Well then.
- It's a kind offer.
But I cannot
abuse your goodness.
Never utter that word!
Fools and hypocrites
talk of goodness to mask
their evil intentions.
I am neither fool nor hypocrite.
If I offer you hospitality,
I have my reasons.
O Christ, prince of impostors,
thief of our noblest pleasures!
Listen to me!
All you've done since you
crawled from that Virgin's belly
is shirk your responsibilities
and break all your promises!
For centuries we've waited,
but still you remain silent!
You promised salvation, but not
a single soul have you saved!
You monster, who in
your cruelty created life
and inflicted it on every
innocent soul, then cursed us,
in the name of some unknown
power, with 'original sin',
only in order to punish us in the
name of that same 'authority'!
We demand you confess!
Admit you lied to us!
Confess to your heinous,
inexcusable crimes!
We shall drive new nails
even deeper into your flesh
and crown your brow
with even sharper thorns,
until your agonized blood spurts
from your dried-up wounds!
Worthless being,
in whose name
so much blood has been spilt!
You are nothing, a mere figment
of man's foolish hopes and fears!
You only exist
to torment mankind!
What suffering we could
have been spared
if we had strangled that first
idiot who uttered your name!
Show yourself! Go on,
punish me for insulting you!
I despise your glory!
I scorn your bounty!
You claim to work miracles,
so let's see one now!
If you exist, God, appear to us!
Don't hide from me, you whore!
Come back at once!
- I'm leaving. -Sit down
and have some breakfast.
Under the circumstances
I can stay here no longer.
And what circumstances
would these be?
Last night I happened
to witness certain...
So you were snooping?
Sit down.
Sit down, have some food
and stop sulking like a child.
I thought you were a grown-up.
It's got nothing to do with being
grown-up. That was blasphemy!
It was a crime!
And that bothers you...
blasphemy and crime?
Are you still a virgin?
We must do something about that.
Stop!
Sit down!
What exactly did you not like
about last night?
Was it that we were acting as
free, unprejudiced individuals?
Rejecting false morality
and slavish convention
in favour of pleasure?
Using our imagination, rebelling?
Is that what you object to?
It's against nature.
It's against God and religion.
Wait... one thing at a time.
What does nature give us?
Is she not greedy, destructive,
cruel, fickle
and utterly callous?
Wouldn't you say that what she
does best is murder and maim?
Don't you see that evil
is her natural element?
That she uses
her creative powers
only to fill the world with
blood, tears and sorrow?
She is our mother.
What kind of mother expends all
her energy causing disasters?
Mercilessly and systematically
murdering her own children?
Just look at that
'mother' of yours
and you'll see she only creates
in order to destroy.
All she does is murder!
So why should we, her children,
behave any better?
I would kill a mother like that!
And as for God...
Nature at least exists independent
of our will and desires.
But God is merely a figment
of human fears and hopes.
People have always been unhappy.
They've always been afraid.
They look for the cause of their
suffering and hope it will end.
So they dream up a mythical God
hoping he will grant their wishes.
God is no more than a fantasy
- born of our fear and weakness.
- But religion teaches us...
What does Christian dogma tell us
about this mighty God of yours?
What does your religion
have to say about him?
All I see is a fickle
and barbaric being,
who creates the world one day,
only to regret it the next,
a feeble creature incapable of
making people do what he wants!
But if God made us perfect, why
strive to be worthy of salvation?
What banality! Why should
people be worthy of their God?
Making us incapable of evil,
that would be
an act worthy of God!
But give a man freedom of choice
and you give him temptation.
God in his infinite wisdom must
have known where that would lead.
He leads his own creatures
astray simply to amuse himself.
What a terrible God!
What a monstrous God!
A mischievous God who deserves
only our hatred and vengeance!
But don't you fear God's wrath?
His retribution?
God will never forgive
such terrible blasphemy.
And aren't you a monster, forcing
defenceless, innocent girls to...
Defenceless and innocent!
What a joke!
I warned you...
I shouldn't have watched.
I shouldn't have listened.
God forgive me...
Our Father, which is in heaven,
Hallowed be Thy name...
Do... mi... nic!
Dominic!
Dominic!
Dominic!
Dominic! Hurry!
Your master needs you!
Quick, he's dying!
Call for a priest. We can't let
him die in such terrible sin!
Come on!
Do you hear?
I know you're there!
Open the door!
Do you hear?
He's dying!
Come on!
Hurry!
Come on!
Dear Friend, you are doubtless
puzzled by all you have seen here.
I apologize if I have caused
you any distress,
though perhaps my apology
will mean little to you.
Chance brought us briefly
together. Now, before we part,
I ask for your help.
You owe it to me.
Go with Dominic, help him.
Follow his orders,
however strange they may
seem to your naive soul.
Your Marquis.
You can't just bury him!
How do you know
he's really dead?
Has a doctor seen him
or even a quack?
What if he's only unconscious?
Call a doctor, quickly!
He may still be alive.
Do something!
You won't get away with it.
You'll end up
under the guillotine.
You can't just
bury him like that!
You villain... you evil rat!
They should have cut off your
head, not just your tongue!
You're even more of
a monster than your master!
God, how did I get into this?
You nearly killed me!
They used to do this
in ancient Egypt.
Only they would chuck in
a couple of dead slaves too.
What's the idea?
Listen to me! Are we going
to spend the whole night here?
You've just been using me
for your disgusting games.
You wanted to frighten me.
Just to amuse yourself.
Not content with blasphemy
and debauchery and rape,
you're also a...
I understand you're upset.
Perhaps I owe you an explanation.
The 'disgusting game' that you
saw and took part in last night,
that monstrous spectatcle,
was not for your benefit.
I merely needed
your physical strength.
You saw what hard work it was
pushing the cart to the graveyard,
much too hard for one man.
And as for the tombstone...
That clown nearly killed me!
But I asked you in my letter to
help Dominic and do as he said.
It was your fault.
Besides, he's is an excellent
shot. That's only a scratch.
Goodbye.
Without waiting
to hear my story?
That's not very courteous.
I listened to your story.
It may make you think
more kindly of me.
You will see that you and I are
not as different as you think.
In fact our stories are
very similar... identical.
Like you, I had a loving mother.
She died when I was five. We
buried her in the family vault.
My father was devastated and
died of grief a few years later.
Does that remind you of
anything? Now listen to this:
When we took my father's coffin to
the vault and removed the stone,
we found Mother's decomposed body
on the steps, her nails all torn.
Yes, we had buried her alive.
She'd had a cataleptic fit
and the doctor
had pronounced her dead.
But she woke up in the coffin.
She managed to push open the lid,
though not the heavy stone slab.
I have been reliving her
ghastly ordeal ever since.
You've heard of
reflex psychosis?
My identification
with her was so strong
I too became cataleptic.
I'd go into trances.
Briefly at first...
then for hours, even days.
I started to have another phobia.
That I would end up like her,
that like her I would
be buried alive.
But I also yearned to experience
the same suffering as her.
That's how much I love my mother.
Are you reminded of anything?
This desire became an obsession,
that couldn't be suppressed.
In time a found a way to satisfy
it, which also lessened my fear.
At least for a while.
That is what you witnessed last
night: my purgative therapy.
Now I can live normally again,
at least for a while.
Excuse my for dragging you
into my private affairs.
You aren't the only one who
still uses his mother's comb.
No, leave me alone!
Let me go!
Wake up!
Was it them again?
It's all right, I was going
to have it redecorated anyway.
Do stop crying.
It's my fault.
The excitement has upset you.
I'll work to pay for the damage.
I have a better idea.
I think I can help you.
Don't worry.
The director, Dr Murlloppe,
is a friend of mine.
It's all arranged. But you
needn't feel under any pressure.
Just look on it as
an experiment.
If it doesn't help you,
call me and I'll take you
away at once.
Knowing you can leave at any time
should in itself be therapeutic.
You've seen how my own
preventive therapy has helped me.
Most of all we fear the unknown.
What we know, we no longer fear.
And you can satisfy your
secret urge to suffer
as your mother did
in a similar institution.
- No, I...
- Be honest with yourself!
Don't deny
your repressed desires!
Marquis...
I am Dr Murlloppe.
Welcome to the sanatorium.
- Berlot.
- This way, gentlemen.
Charlotte!
This way please.
Charlotte! We have important
visitors! Charlotte!
Why didn't you tell me?
I want nothing to do with him!
I'm not fooled
by his false beard!
- I can't possibly stay...
- My daughter Charlotte.
She helps with
the patients and paperwork.
Go and make some tea, my dear.
Mr Berlot, our mutual friend
has told me why you are here.
I believe you are a suitable
case for 'preventive therapy'.
But it will only work if applied
of the patient's own free will.
Even then the effects may be
only of limited duration.
Medical science has yet to find
a permanent cure
for obsessive states.
Follow me.
Before you finally commit
yourself let me show you round.
We believe in modern methods
rather than fancy new equipment.
There is no coercion...
Yes, yes... There you go!
No punishment, no straitjackets,
no electric shocks.
We treat the patients as equals.
Let me show you something.
Well? What do you think?
Our art therapy.
- The ball. Please.
- No thank you.
Excuse me.
They seem happy, don't they?
Good girl!
- Mine! Mine!
- May I?
Right or left?
Gentlemen, please.
Where are your clothes?
And what's that? Give it to me!
Those are dangerous.
Take them back
to the kitchen. Go!
Go on, off with you!
Get back to bed
before you catch cold.
You must rest.
Charlotte, dearest.
Look after them, will you?
So... what's your decision?
I'll stay.
Wait here while I see about
the admission formalities.
I'll be right back.
So you knew she was his daughter
and he was abusing her!
My dear fellow, you mustn't
believe everything you're told.
She's asked me to help her.
If I've decided to stay
it's only for her sake.
My own problems are secondary.
- You think it's funny?
- Little bitch!
- Don't speak about her like that!
- I do believe he's in love!
Don't tell me
I didn't warn you.
She's a nymphomaniac
and a hysteric.
Just going to bed with
somebody's not enough for her.
Normal sex isn't enough for her.
She likes it special... kinky.
She's a devious whore,
like the rest of them.
- I forbid you to speak of her...
- That's all taken care of.
Come, I'll show you
to your room.
It's me, Charlotte.
Thank you. It was very noble
of you to say you'd stay.
I don't know what to do.
Terrible things go on here.
- Doctor Murlloppe is a madman.
- Your father?
He's not my father. He's a violent
maniac. So is the Marquis.
Some time ago they stirred up
a revolt among the inmates.
They locked up the real director
and staff of the sanatorium.
They're still down in the cellar.
They only spared me because...
...you saw what happened
at the Marquis' castle.
You are our only hope.
I trust you.
My life is in your hands.
So, what exactly
did you have in mind?
A tableau vivant
representing Liberty.
Like Delacroix' painting.
An interesting idea.
I think it will reflect
the spirit of our celebrations.
And our philosophy! All our
resources are at your disposal.
Thank you. I intend to
make full use of them.
- When do you start? -At once.
The anniversary of our...
of your sanatorium is on Sunday.
There's no time to lose.
What do you think of the
Marquis' idea, Mr Berlot?
I think it's splendid.
Charlotte dear, I hope you will
also take part in the project.
Hold that arm a bit higher.
To the right.
No... back a little.
That's it!
Now your other arm.
Further from your body.
Hold it there! You, Sir.
It's a rifle, not a broom!
You're fighting for liberty,
not clearing snow!
That's it!
No gentlemen, please!
That's no way to work!
Break!
Well? Any progress?
With Charlotte.
Knowing her,
she'll be in no hurry.
Foreplay, you know. Some women
absolutely insist on it.
Some even prefer foreplay
to actual intercourse.
That's all they want...
foreplay. For a long, long time.
Nothing but foreplay.
You're disgusting.
You know nothing about her.
Wait! Has she given you
her party piece yet?
All that guff about a mutiny.
It really turns her on!
The libido can take strange
forms. Once again I warn you:
She's a cunning nymphomaniac.
You'd be way out of your depth.
Ask Dr Murlloppe about her,
before you do anything silly.
He's the real expert. Her
medical record is that thick.
Why did he lie about her
being his daughter?
I don't know. Ask him. Maybe
it's part of the treatment.
Break's over, gentlemen.
Let's continue.
I couldn't get away sooner. The
Marquis kept changing everything.
He terrifies me.
- When was this mutiny?
- A year ago... exactly.
That's why
they're celebrating...
Didn't you realize? And now
they want me to take part.
Those madmen have been in charge
for a year and no one's noticed?
Does no one ever visit?
Relatives, inspectors,
the postman...?
Who brings your food?
Surely someone
must have noticed?
Don't you believe me?
Of course.
It just seems rather...
You think I made it all up?
Why would I do that?
I thought that you at least...
- No! -You've ruined everything.
- I didn't mean to...
You want proof?
I'll give you proof!
Come with me.
Dr Coulmiere... Sir...
Before they locked them up they
covered them in tar and feathers.
- Whatever for?
- To humiliate them.
To degrade the authority
they stand for.
It's a custom from
the French Revolution.
- I bet it was the Marquis' idea.
- I've never found the cell keys.
I'm sure they're in Murlloppe's
study. We must find them.
O holy passion...!
O holy passion...!
O holy passion, proud emotion
'Tis you we hold
in deep devotion
Wise men bow before your might
To be uplifted in your sight
Thus Nature...
Thus Nature...
Thus Nature kindles our desires
And Her command
to 'crime' inspires
Sweet acts and
sensual diversions
Said by fools to be perversions
Give us the joy
that Nature loves
Lust and vice fit us like gloves
And all our being swells sublime
When we commit a bestial crime
When after years
of carnal pleasure
She gathers us back
to Her treasure
Mocking the gods
we'll hasten home
To the great bounty of Her womb
She's whore and
mother to us all...
She's whore and
mother to us all
Alike embracing great and small
Wicked or good,
on us She'll smile
Our noble deeds or murders vile
- Marvellous! Congratulations!
- Thank you.
Didn't you like it?
It's wicked to brainwash the
mentally ill with stuff like that!
- Luckily they don't understand.
- Are you sure?
And now... the crowning
glory of the evening!
Bravo! Long live Liberty!
Long live Liberty!
Long live Liberty!
Long live Liberty!
Long live Liberty!
Long live Liberty!
Long live Liberty!
The festivities are over!
Now all go back to your rooms!
Thank you for rescuing me.
Now my dear Marquis, it's time
we thought about ourselves
and our own celebration!
I trust you're coming
with us, Charlotte.
Charlotte is staying here.
She's my fianc?e.
As her father, I think
I might have been informed.
Alright, we'll take Mlle Rosset.
Mademoiselle Rosset!
No, I'll go!
The coach is ready.
This is your chance.
Tonight you must set them free.
I'll make sure we don't get back
till the morning.
Yes, Father...
I want it now!
She's whore and mother to us all
Alike embracing great and small
Wicked or good,
on us She'll smile
Our noble deeds or murders vile
Long live liberty!
Long live liberty!
Long live liberty...!
Thank God, he's coming round!
Now all is well.
Your heroic deed will go down
in the annals of the sanatorium.
We are free at last! Soon this
will seem like a bad dream.
This is the man who hit you on
the head. He'd like to apologise.
Now back to work!
Make us some tea, my dear.
It must have been ghastly for you,
in the clutches of those lunatics.
We've already caught Murlloppe,
and we'll soon catch the Marquis.
He's a dangerous criminal,
a pervert and a libertine.
If he hadn't been sent here
he'd have gone to the guillotine.
A complex case. But I have
no sympathy for him.
Murlloppe was a fine psychiatrist.
One of the very best.
His prevention therapy
is quite brilliant
if used in conjunction with
other techniques such as
electric shocks, solitary
confinement and punishment.
But the 'free will' method
he began to introduce latterly,
based on a more liberal attitude,
that was bound to fail.
There's no place for freedom
in a lunatic asylum.
Without the evil influence of the
Marquis, he'd have realized this.
But the rogue only encouraged
him in his efforts,
using some perverse philosophy to
justify his monstrous experiments.
In the end Murlloppe, too, became
a psychotic and a libertine.
That's when he was dismissed as
director, and became my patient.
My method is based on traditional
conservative principles:
strict supervision
and punishment.
Aren't you interested?
As a deeply religious man,
I believe our whole life is
a constant struggle between
the mind and the body.
A struggle for our mental
and physical well-being.
If the mind gains the upper hand,
the body becomes susceptible
to illness: infectious diseases,
coronaries, cancer...
In this state people even become
more prone to accidents!
If the body proves the stronger,
the result is mental illness.
That's why my method is based
on corporal punishment.
Yes! If the mind is sick
we must subdue the body.
Only by weakening the body
can we restore the balance.
The more severe the illness,
the more severe the punishment.
Do drink your tea.
It's horrible cold.
We've caught them!
- Where did you find them?
- In Avalon, at a roadside inn.
They didn't get far.
Bring them in.
Do you still not understand?
You won't be laughing long.
Charlotte, get me his file.
Yes... treatment number eight.
Seems to have healed nicely.
So we can go on
to treatment nine.
Take him away!
I know your case history
by heart.
In your case, my dear Marquis,
I must make a rare exception.
I am reluctant... in fact
I have never done this before.
But you leave me with no choice.
Last time we applied number five,
so now it should be number six.
But now
for the promised exception.
Prepare the operating theatre
for treatment number thirteen!
No! You can't do that!
Yes I can.
In fact I must.
Jean...
Charlotte... don't let him!
No! No! No!
What is treatment
number thirteen?
As I said, my method
is to weaken the body
to restore its harmony
with the mind.
This is achieved this by a series
of 13 corporal punishments.
These are applied progressively
until we find the right balance.
Go too far, and the body becomes
sick. Pneumonia, prostate cancer.
- What is treatment thirteen?
- We always begin with number one.
Twenty strokes of the whip.
This usually cures 50% of
all non-acute new cases.
Mostly malingerers
and neurasthenics.
Treatment eight, as you saw,
is the removal of the tongue.
And number thirteen?
That's a treatment I always
administer personally.
Come along, Charlotte dear.
I'll need your help.
What is treatment thirteen?
I wish to leave at once.
Charlotte is coming with me.
That's not possible.
It's against the rules.
Patients may be discharged
only at 8 a. m.
- It's now... 9 p. m.
- But that's absurd.
I'm not a patient!
I'm here voluntarily. I was told
I could leave whenever I liked!
- Who told you that?
- The sanatorium director.
I am the sanatorium director.
Besides, it's ten miles
to the nearest coach stop.
There's one coach a day,
at 11 a. m.
You can leave in the morning,
after being formally discharged.
That's the usual procedure.
And now I have work to do.
- Where's Charlotte?
- She went to lie down.
She went to have a rest.
She sends her apologies.
How is the Marquis?
- He's alright now.
- Poor fellow.
You're sorry for him,
after how he treated you?
Read this.
You were to be a guinea-pig
for their monstrous experiments.
He'd have kept you here for ever.
And still you pity him!
Take Mr Berlot to his room.
Charlotte!
Charlotte, it's me, Jean!
Have you come to admire
your handiwork?
- What did they do to you?
- Treatment number ten.
Coulmiere made an exception
in my case, too.
What about the Marquis?
He screamed terribly,
but now he's calmed down.
You let that whore manipulate
you. This is the result.
That's a lie! I love her
and I'm going to marry her.
In a few hours we'll be leaving
this madhouse forever.
Then I ought to give you a few
tips for your conjugal life.
I bet the whore's in bed with
that madman Coulmiere as we speak.
And now, darling Charlotte,
for the climax of our soir?e.
It arrived today from Paris,
special delivery.
Let me see!
- Shall I open it?
- Yes! I can't wait!
You can't back out now...
after we've waited so long.
No of course not.
Let's do it... now!
Leave me alone!
Leave me alone!
I'm not mad!
Leave me alone!
Wake up!
You did this!
It's all your fault!
My friend, your vital equilibrium
is seriously disturbed.
Your body has become
too dominant.
And now your mind is sick.
But don't despair, I'll cure you.
Let's start at the beginning.
Apply treatment number one!