Il fascino dell'insolito (1980–1982): Season 2, Episode 2 - La casa della follia - full transcript
A Fascination For The Unusual
Journeys in Literature
From Gothic to Fantasy
The Mad House
Hello?
Hi, John.
How are you?
The same as usual.
No, Chris has already gone to school.
I still haven't spoken to him.
But I will.
He'll never believe you.
I think you're right.
I'm worried about him.
But he'll never listen to me.
He'll never admit his violence.
You can keep trying.
Try to talk to him.
Yes, I know.
We don't have much time.
Thank you, John.
Four stubborn mules.
They'd be better off working the land.
It's their fault I've come to
hate the literary greats.
Because I'm forced to do it every day.
To talk about them to narrow
minded people.
Incapable of appreciating them.
Of understanding.
You look at me without ever smiling.
You look at me
and you won't speak to me.
Your eyes persecute me.
Fifteen years we've been living
together...
and you've never given me anything.
You've never helped me.
You've destroyed my life.
I hate you.
I hate you and your easy life.
Look at me.
I can't write with you here.
Your presence prevents me
from working!
Without you...
Without you...
You've got an opinion about
everything I say and do.
And you're always playing the victim.
And I'm the monster, right?
Who shouts!
Who's violent!
You're hurting me.
I'll leave tomorrow morning.
Finally.
Then I'll be able to write.
Sally.
Sally, please stay.
Please.
Are you really leaving?
Yes, I'm leaving.
Yes.
You're free to do what you want.
Whatever you like.
And just so I know,
how long will this separation last?
I don't know, Chris.
It depends on you.
On me?
It always depends on me, right?
Please, I don't want to fight.
I'm too tired to argue.
Right, it's much easier to pack
your bags and run away.
Run away?
After fifteen years
you accuse me of running away?
Fifteen years watching you
destroy yourself.
And while you tried to destroy
me as well.
But that's not why I'm leaving.
It's because I've had enough of being
hated for something that isn't my fault.
When you shout at me.
When you hit me.
It's not me you're trying to hurt.
You've no idea of everything
I've lost during all these years.
I had dreams.
I had so many dreams.
I dreamed of writing things
that would leave people breathless.
Things that perhaps people
needed to hear.
Who knows?
I could have written a timeless work.
But instead, when I die
I'll simply be dead.
Dead and nothing more.
And you think that most of all
it's my fault.
But it isn't, Chris.
It isn't.
Maybe I should have spoken
to you sooner.
But for years I preferred to keep quiet.
To put up with it, wiping myself out.
Believing that this was
the only way to help you.
But it was no use.
And if I stayed with you now...
I don't know what to do anymore.
So I'm leaving.
I'm leaving before you...
Before you...
I'm leaving because I don't want
to watch you kill yourself.
Sally!
Sally help me, I'm sick.
Why don't you get it?
I'm sick.
I'm sick, I'm sick...
Today as well, we've managed
to make it through the morning.
Whatever it takes.
Whatever it takes so I don't have
to sit in front of a typewriter.
You can't even bear to look at me?
- Which train are you getting?
- The 11:38
The only morning train, as you know.
You've got nothing else to tell me?
No, nothing else.
I'm leaving because I don't want
to watch you kill yourself.
Have fun at your mother's place.
Have you thought about what I said?
If you're alluding to your stories
about my house, no.
- It wasn't worth the trouble.
- You're behaving erratically.
How can you question something
you know nothing about?
Listen, I'm tired of listening
to idle chatter.
I'm your best friend,
at least I think so.
And like hell am I going to just
watch you destroy yourself.
What must I do to persuade you?
Do you have to die first?
Save your words for the poor
fools who'll listen to you.
The great professor John Morton
with his modern futuristic theories.
It's pointless insulting me.
Don't you realise you're in danger
precisely because of your temper?
Where do you think your explosive
outbursts end up?
Do you think they just disappear?
Not at all.
They communicate to the rooms,
to the furniture.
They transmit through blood and they
poison everything, including you.
No one knows exactly what
matter is composed of.
Atoms, electrons.
Pure energy.
We all have our theories
but the truth is, we don't know anything.
For the human brain it's even worse.
Think of its still unknown capacities.
It's like an unexplored continent.
Perhaps it will stay that way
for some time.
But in the meantime,
its unknown powers...
will continue to have their effect on us,
and on matter.
That's why I'm convinced you're
poisoning your house.
Your neurosis, your violence.
They've infiltrated the structure.
Every object is infected!
Because it's become hostile.
If it weren't for Sally's presence
as a stabilising force...
You could be physically attacked.
You don't believe me, right?
A house that attacks?
That kills?
Who knows what happens when you shout
and release all your negative energy?
Your inability to be
what you'd like to be.
But that house isn't my enemy.
I've lived there for fifteen years,
Not always happily, admittedly.
Please, talk to Sally
before ignoring my advice.
Sally's gone.
She might not be coming back.
She couldn't put up with my rage.
My violence, as you call it.
Now I'm all alone in that house.
Don't talk to me of need, even the most
miserable of beggars have something.
Which now remains superfluous.
Don't concede to nature more
than what is strictly necessary.
And a man's life is worth the
same as an animal.
You are a lady.
However...
All those fineries.
If you did it to keep you warm...
then nature wouldn't need all
the fineries that you wear.
Whether they keep you warm or not.
But as for real need...
Shall I continue?
No, thank you,
You can go back to your seat.
When will we get our results?
When I've corrected them
and graded them.
Miss Forbes.
You can go.
- Why?
- Perhaps you didn't hear me? You can go!
- But I haven't done anything.
- Get out!
Silence!
Would you come next door for a moment?
Tomorrow you'll finish reading
the entire book.
Will you please come here?
- What's going on here, Neal?
- What do you mean, sir?
Miss Forbes insists you kicked her
out of the room for no reason.
Miss Forbes isn't telling the truth
because she's a liar.
- I won't let you insult me like that.
- You can return to the classroom.
You can go in, I authorise you.
You don't have any objections.
Right, Neal?
I hope you can give me an explanation?
I'm waiting.
I've already given you an explanation,
Miss Forbes is a liar.
Based on my previous experiences I'm
inclined to believe the exact opposite.
- Believe what the hell you like.
- I'll report you to the council.
- My patience has a limit!
- Great!
You don't want the students
to hear us arguing!
They know exactly who you are, Ramsay!
You're a fool! A blundering idiot!
You're an ass!
Enough!
You command a school composed
of a herd of ignorant fools!
Go to Hell!
Neal!
Subtitled by Daniel Mann
and Truck Driver
Journeys in Literature
From Gothic to Fantasy
The Mad House
Hello?
Hi, John.
How are you?
The same as usual.
No, Chris has already gone to school.
I still haven't spoken to him.
But I will.
He'll never believe you.
I think you're right.
I'm worried about him.
But he'll never listen to me.
He'll never admit his violence.
You can keep trying.
Try to talk to him.
Yes, I know.
We don't have much time.
Thank you, John.
Four stubborn mules.
They'd be better off working the land.
It's their fault I've come to
hate the literary greats.
Because I'm forced to do it every day.
To talk about them to narrow
minded people.
Incapable of appreciating them.
Of understanding.
You look at me without ever smiling.
You look at me
and you won't speak to me.
Your eyes persecute me.
Fifteen years we've been living
together...
and you've never given me anything.
You've never helped me.
You've destroyed my life.
I hate you.
I hate you and your easy life.
Look at me.
I can't write with you here.
Your presence prevents me
from working!
Without you...
Without you...
You've got an opinion about
everything I say and do.
And you're always playing the victim.
And I'm the monster, right?
Who shouts!
Who's violent!
You're hurting me.
I'll leave tomorrow morning.
Finally.
Then I'll be able to write.
Sally.
Sally, please stay.
Please.
Are you really leaving?
Yes, I'm leaving.
Yes.
You're free to do what you want.
Whatever you like.
And just so I know,
how long will this separation last?
I don't know, Chris.
It depends on you.
On me?
It always depends on me, right?
Please, I don't want to fight.
I'm too tired to argue.
Right, it's much easier to pack
your bags and run away.
Run away?
After fifteen years
you accuse me of running away?
Fifteen years watching you
destroy yourself.
And while you tried to destroy
me as well.
But that's not why I'm leaving.
It's because I've had enough of being
hated for something that isn't my fault.
When you shout at me.
When you hit me.
It's not me you're trying to hurt.
You've no idea of everything
I've lost during all these years.
I had dreams.
I had so many dreams.
I dreamed of writing things
that would leave people breathless.
Things that perhaps people
needed to hear.
Who knows?
I could have written a timeless work.
But instead, when I die
I'll simply be dead.
Dead and nothing more.
And you think that most of all
it's my fault.
But it isn't, Chris.
It isn't.
Maybe I should have spoken
to you sooner.
But for years I preferred to keep quiet.
To put up with it, wiping myself out.
Believing that this was
the only way to help you.
But it was no use.
And if I stayed with you now...
I don't know what to do anymore.
So I'm leaving.
I'm leaving before you...
Before you...
I'm leaving because I don't want
to watch you kill yourself.
Sally!
Sally help me, I'm sick.
Why don't you get it?
I'm sick.
I'm sick, I'm sick...
Today as well, we've managed
to make it through the morning.
Whatever it takes.
Whatever it takes so I don't have
to sit in front of a typewriter.
You can't even bear to look at me?
- Which train are you getting?
- The 11:38
The only morning train, as you know.
You've got nothing else to tell me?
No, nothing else.
I'm leaving because I don't want
to watch you kill yourself.
Have fun at your mother's place.
Have you thought about what I said?
If you're alluding to your stories
about my house, no.
- It wasn't worth the trouble.
- You're behaving erratically.
How can you question something
you know nothing about?
Listen, I'm tired of listening
to idle chatter.
I'm your best friend,
at least I think so.
And like hell am I going to just
watch you destroy yourself.
What must I do to persuade you?
Do you have to die first?
Save your words for the poor
fools who'll listen to you.
The great professor John Morton
with his modern futuristic theories.
It's pointless insulting me.
Don't you realise you're in danger
precisely because of your temper?
Where do you think your explosive
outbursts end up?
Do you think they just disappear?
Not at all.
They communicate to the rooms,
to the furniture.
They transmit through blood and they
poison everything, including you.
No one knows exactly what
matter is composed of.
Atoms, electrons.
Pure energy.
We all have our theories
but the truth is, we don't know anything.
For the human brain it's even worse.
Think of its still unknown capacities.
It's like an unexplored continent.
Perhaps it will stay that way
for some time.
But in the meantime,
its unknown powers...
will continue to have their effect on us,
and on matter.
That's why I'm convinced you're
poisoning your house.
Your neurosis, your violence.
They've infiltrated the structure.
Every object is infected!
Because it's become hostile.
If it weren't for Sally's presence
as a stabilising force...
You could be physically attacked.
You don't believe me, right?
A house that attacks?
That kills?
Who knows what happens when you shout
and release all your negative energy?
Your inability to be
what you'd like to be.
But that house isn't my enemy.
I've lived there for fifteen years,
Not always happily, admittedly.
Please, talk to Sally
before ignoring my advice.
Sally's gone.
She might not be coming back.
She couldn't put up with my rage.
My violence, as you call it.
Now I'm all alone in that house.
Don't talk to me of need, even the most
miserable of beggars have something.
Which now remains superfluous.
Don't concede to nature more
than what is strictly necessary.
And a man's life is worth the
same as an animal.
You are a lady.
However...
All those fineries.
If you did it to keep you warm...
then nature wouldn't need all
the fineries that you wear.
Whether they keep you warm or not.
But as for real need...
Shall I continue?
No, thank you,
You can go back to your seat.
When will we get our results?
When I've corrected them
and graded them.
Miss Forbes.
You can go.
- Why?
- Perhaps you didn't hear me? You can go!
- But I haven't done anything.
- Get out!
Silence!
Would you come next door for a moment?
Tomorrow you'll finish reading
the entire book.
Will you please come here?
- What's going on here, Neal?
- What do you mean, sir?
Miss Forbes insists you kicked her
out of the room for no reason.
Miss Forbes isn't telling the truth
because she's a liar.
- I won't let you insult me like that.
- You can return to the classroom.
You can go in, I authorise you.
You don't have any objections.
Right, Neal?
I hope you can give me an explanation?
I'm waiting.
I've already given you an explanation,
Miss Forbes is a liar.
Based on my previous experiences I'm
inclined to believe the exact opposite.
- Believe what the hell you like.
- I'll report you to the council.
- My patience has a limit!
- Great!
You don't want the students
to hear us arguing!
They know exactly who you are, Ramsay!
You're a fool! A blundering idiot!
You're an ass!
Enough!
You command a school composed
of a herd of ignorant fools!
Go to Hell!
Neal!
Subtitled by Daniel Mann
and Truck Driver