The Ray Bradbury Theater (1985–1992): Season 2, Episode 12 - And So Died Riabouchinska - full transcript
John Fabian and his famous ventriloquist dummy Riabouchinska perform at the Champs Elyssse, and are the primary suspects when a man turns up murdered. John soon discovers that Riabouchinska has her own take on the murder and who is responsible.
[music playing]
RAY BRADBURY:
(VOICEOVER) People ask,
where do you get your ideas?
Well, right here.
All this is my
Martian landscape.
Somewhere in this room
is an African velt.
Just beyond, perhaps, is a small
Illinois town where I grew up.
And I'm surrounded on every
side by my magician's toy shop.
I'll never starve here.
I just look around, find
what I need, and begin.
I'm Ray Bradbury and this is--
Well, then.
Right now, what shall it be?
Out of all this, what do
I choose to make a story?
I never know where the
next one will take me.
And the trip, exactly
one half exhilaration,
exactly one half terror.
[applause]
[police sirens]
[jazz music playing]
Can we have some
rear light, please?
Thank you.
Detective Lieutenant Krulwich.
Mr. Fabian?
FEMALE VOICE: Let me out.
Let me out.
Oh please.
Oh please.
Please, listen.
Won't someone let me out?
Won't anyone listen?
Please?
Rita!
[speaking french] This
is a serious business.
Silent.
Quiet now.
There's a good girl.
(LAUGHING).
FEMALE VOICE:
Please don't laugh.
After what has happened,
you should be kind.
If you don't mind,
Mr. Fabian, we'll
have your dummy act later.
Dummy?
She's the finest handmade
porcelain China puppet actress
doll in the world.
Yes, Yes I'm sure.
Now, please.
Mrs. Fabian?
Mr. Howard Douglas?
Mr. Fabian's promoter
and press agent.
And this is Robert Henri.
Ockham, known to
any or all of you?
Well.
Ockham knew you ir one of you.
Said so at this stage door many
times in the last week, yes?
So, by God, someone is lying.
FEMALE VOICE: They are.
It's sad, but they are.
Dammit, Fabian.
Pay no attention
to her, Lieutenant.
Her, or you.
You, or her.
Get together you two.
FEMALE VOICE: We'll never be
together again after tonight.
Careful.
[jazz music playing]
FEMALE VOICE: Thank you.
Touch her, if you wish.
FEMALE VOICE: No, no.
My lovely one.
Made from the finest
rare imported woods.
And porcelain worthy of
Napoleon's gifts to Josephine.
She's appeared in London,
Rome, Paris, Istanbul, Cairo.
Loved across the world
by thousands who simply
cannot believe that
her beauty was once
just simply a piece of clay.
FEMALE VOICE: Enough, please.
Such praise makes others sad.
Ah, yes.
Others.
Damn.
What are you up to?
I am helpless.
Oh, I know what you think.
You think that she's
here in my throat.
But no, she's not.
She's somewhere else.
Maybe, here.
Certainly, here.
She is not there.
No.
She hides herself so easily.
She waits and watches me.
She tells me what to do.
I do it.
She speaks when I cannot.
She is good when I am evil.
She's open when I am closed.
She's all around,
about, and sometimes she
builds a wall and hides herself,
and doesn't say a word to me.
But then again, sometimes,
like tonight, she speaks.
Mr. Douglas.
Aren't you and Mrs.
Fabian very close friends?
See here.
I do see.
When the press agent sits where
the husband should be sitting,
well.
The way you look at the
marionette, Mrs. Fabian.
You make a face when she talks.
If you think for one moment
that I'm jealous of a thing
like that.
Alice.
Don't.
FEMALE VOICE: - Let her.
Let her.
I married John
because I loved him.
But, over the
years I saw that he
had lived all his life for her.
[music playing]
And finally, I saw that if
there were two parts to John,
why the best part, the good
part, was Riabouchinska.
FEMALE VOICE: Tell
about Mr. Douglas.
What is there to tell?
It's an old story.
When one door shuts,
another opens.
Yeah, of course.
And, Holcoumb, here, a
poor man, knew about you.
Came here to night.
Blackmail.
Threatening to
tell your husband.
That's even sillier
than all the rest.
I didn't kill him.
Why should she?
Mr. Fabian already
knew about us.
Oh, I did indeed.
Didn't I, Riabouchinska?
Oh, god help me.
That's enough for one night.
Let's take the body out of here.
[music playing]
Look familiar?
Well.
Well, indeed.
[speaking french]
is a great place.
Tell me this.
So you had two different acts.
Sweet William.
That's not all.
How's this?
[speaking french]
Well.
FEMALE VOICE: Well.
Speak.
Tell him.
No comment?
Allow me.
Iliana Ramonova,
born New York City.
1958.
Not paper machie, not
wood, not a puppet,
but a woman, who once lived
and moved around and then
disappeared.
Like 10,000 other
ballet lovers,
I fell in love with her.
I watched her dance 100 times.
How could I not?
[ballet music]
And so I made a doll.
Like her.
FEMALE VOICE: No.
No, no.
That makes two of us
who don't believe you.
You love and knew
the real woman.
FEMALE VOICE: Yes.
Time for the truth.
Very well.
The truth.
We were lovers.
We traveled the world.
She with her dancing.
I with Sweet William.
But I was mad with love.
We quarreled violently,
and she ran from me.
Vanished forever this time.
I hated myself.
I wanted to bring
her back forever.
I searched for her
everywhere for months
but she was gone like a
piece of tissue paper,
blown over the sky.
But somehow, some way, I knew
that I would have her back.
Only one way.
To shape, form,
carve from memory.
Brow.
Eyes.
Incredibly delicate nose.
Chin.
The lips.
Soon.
Soon.
Yes.
Yes.
[gentle music]
Days and nights, and then
weeks and months I worked.
Obsessed.
My voice.
Hey, what's happening?
It's going.
Going.
Gone.
FEMALE VOICE: Hi.
Yes.
FEMALE VOICE: Hi.
I'm here.
Yes.
FEMALE VOICE: Here.
Yes.
So, that's it?
You loved a rare woman.
You drove her off
with your jealousy.
She ran and you made
the doll just like her.
Nothing more?
No.
FEMALE VOICE: Yes.
No.
FEMALE VOICE: Yes.
Which still leaves us with the
murdered man, damn it, Ockham.
As you all claim you
never saw him before,
yet he came here asking
for you a dozen times.
A dozen times.
He knew something.
I smell blackmail.
If it was this easy for
me to find these posters,
maybe he did to.
Dug up your past,
suspected the worst.
Showed up here and--
FEMALE VOICE: The first
letter came a month ago.
The letter said,
Riabouchinska, Born 1958.
Died 1978.
Born-again 1979.
Ockham had once worked
for us years ago.
He was there when I vanished.
And now, years
later, he showed up.
[yelling]
FEMALE VOICE: I lay in
my box and heard him die.
You cannot hear.
You cannot speak.
FEMALE VOICE: I
wish that were so.
But I do hear.
I must speak.
Those were fine
and terrible times.
His jealous rages.
And then a strike.
The blow.
He didn't mean but it done.
No!
FEMALE VOICE: Yes.
At long last the truth.
We have lived twice, but
you killed us both, now.
It's over.
No.
FEMALE VOICE: I've
lived with your weakness
and your lies since
you killed me.
But when you killed him, we
both knew it was finished,
I can't stay.
You must.
FEMALE VOICE: No.
You're alone now.
Goodbye.
No!
FEMALE VOICE: Goodbye.
Ria!
FEMALE VOICE: Goodbye.
Ria!
Make her come back.
I can't.
And neither can you.
Mr. Fabian, I must
place you under arrest.
[gentle music]
RAY BRADBURY:
(VOICEOVER) People ask,
where do you get your ideas?
Well, right here.
All this is my
Martian landscape.
Somewhere in this room
is an African velt.
Just beyond, perhaps, is a small
Illinois town where I grew up.
And I'm surrounded on every
side by my magician's toy shop.
I'll never starve here.
I just look around, find
what I need, and begin.
I'm Ray Bradbury and this is--
Well, then.
Right now, what shall it be?
Out of all this, what do
I choose to make a story?
I never know where the
next one will take me.
And the trip, exactly
one half exhilaration,
exactly one half terror.
[applause]
[police sirens]
[jazz music playing]
Can we have some
rear light, please?
Thank you.
Detective Lieutenant Krulwich.
Mr. Fabian?
FEMALE VOICE: Let me out.
Let me out.
Oh please.
Oh please.
Please, listen.
Won't someone let me out?
Won't anyone listen?
Please?
Rita!
[speaking french] This
is a serious business.
Silent.
Quiet now.
There's a good girl.
(LAUGHING).
FEMALE VOICE:
Please don't laugh.
After what has happened,
you should be kind.
If you don't mind,
Mr. Fabian, we'll
have your dummy act later.
Dummy?
She's the finest handmade
porcelain China puppet actress
doll in the world.
Yes, Yes I'm sure.
Now, please.
Mrs. Fabian?
Mr. Howard Douglas?
Mr. Fabian's promoter
and press agent.
And this is Robert Henri.
Ockham, known to
any or all of you?
Well.
Ockham knew you ir one of you.
Said so at this stage door many
times in the last week, yes?
So, by God, someone is lying.
FEMALE VOICE: They are.
It's sad, but they are.
Dammit, Fabian.
Pay no attention
to her, Lieutenant.
Her, or you.
You, or her.
Get together you two.
FEMALE VOICE: We'll never be
together again after tonight.
Careful.
[jazz music playing]
FEMALE VOICE: Thank you.
Touch her, if you wish.
FEMALE VOICE: No, no.
My lovely one.
Made from the finest
rare imported woods.
And porcelain worthy of
Napoleon's gifts to Josephine.
She's appeared in London,
Rome, Paris, Istanbul, Cairo.
Loved across the world
by thousands who simply
cannot believe that
her beauty was once
just simply a piece of clay.
FEMALE VOICE: Enough, please.
Such praise makes others sad.
Ah, yes.
Others.
Damn.
What are you up to?
I am helpless.
Oh, I know what you think.
You think that she's
here in my throat.
But no, she's not.
She's somewhere else.
Maybe, here.
Certainly, here.
She is not there.
No.
She hides herself so easily.
She waits and watches me.
She tells me what to do.
I do it.
She speaks when I cannot.
She is good when I am evil.
She's open when I am closed.
She's all around,
about, and sometimes she
builds a wall and hides herself,
and doesn't say a word to me.
But then again, sometimes,
like tonight, she speaks.
Mr. Douglas.
Aren't you and Mrs.
Fabian very close friends?
See here.
I do see.
When the press agent sits where
the husband should be sitting,
well.
The way you look at the
marionette, Mrs. Fabian.
You make a face when she talks.
If you think for one moment
that I'm jealous of a thing
like that.
Alice.
Don't.
FEMALE VOICE: - Let her.
Let her.
I married John
because I loved him.
But, over the
years I saw that he
had lived all his life for her.
[music playing]
And finally, I saw that if
there were two parts to John,
why the best part, the good
part, was Riabouchinska.
FEMALE VOICE: Tell
about Mr. Douglas.
What is there to tell?
It's an old story.
When one door shuts,
another opens.
Yeah, of course.
And, Holcoumb, here, a
poor man, knew about you.
Came here to night.
Blackmail.
Threatening to
tell your husband.
That's even sillier
than all the rest.
I didn't kill him.
Why should she?
Mr. Fabian already
knew about us.
Oh, I did indeed.
Didn't I, Riabouchinska?
Oh, god help me.
That's enough for one night.
Let's take the body out of here.
[music playing]
Look familiar?
Well.
Well, indeed.
[speaking french]
is a great place.
Tell me this.
So you had two different acts.
Sweet William.
That's not all.
How's this?
[speaking french]
Well.
FEMALE VOICE: Well.
Speak.
Tell him.
No comment?
Allow me.
Iliana Ramonova,
born New York City.
1958.
Not paper machie, not
wood, not a puppet,
but a woman, who once lived
and moved around and then
disappeared.
Like 10,000 other
ballet lovers,
I fell in love with her.
I watched her dance 100 times.
How could I not?
[ballet music]
And so I made a doll.
Like her.
FEMALE VOICE: No.
No, no.
That makes two of us
who don't believe you.
You love and knew
the real woman.
FEMALE VOICE: Yes.
Time for the truth.
Very well.
The truth.
We were lovers.
We traveled the world.
She with her dancing.
I with Sweet William.
But I was mad with love.
We quarreled violently,
and she ran from me.
Vanished forever this time.
I hated myself.
I wanted to bring
her back forever.
I searched for her
everywhere for months
but she was gone like a
piece of tissue paper,
blown over the sky.
But somehow, some way, I knew
that I would have her back.
Only one way.
To shape, form,
carve from memory.
Brow.
Eyes.
Incredibly delicate nose.
Chin.
The lips.
Soon.
Soon.
Yes.
Yes.
[gentle music]
Days and nights, and then
weeks and months I worked.
Obsessed.
My voice.
Hey, what's happening?
It's going.
Going.
Gone.
FEMALE VOICE: Hi.
Yes.
FEMALE VOICE: Hi.
I'm here.
Yes.
FEMALE VOICE: Here.
Yes.
So, that's it?
You loved a rare woman.
You drove her off
with your jealousy.
She ran and you made
the doll just like her.
Nothing more?
No.
FEMALE VOICE: Yes.
No.
FEMALE VOICE: Yes.
Which still leaves us with the
murdered man, damn it, Ockham.
As you all claim you
never saw him before,
yet he came here asking
for you a dozen times.
A dozen times.
He knew something.
I smell blackmail.
If it was this easy for
me to find these posters,
maybe he did to.
Dug up your past,
suspected the worst.
Showed up here and--
FEMALE VOICE: The first
letter came a month ago.
The letter said,
Riabouchinska, Born 1958.
Died 1978.
Born-again 1979.
Ockham had once worked
for us years ago.
He was there when I vanished.
And now, years
later, he showed up.
[yelling]
FEMALE VOICE: I lay in
my box and heard him die.
You cannot hear.
You cannot speak.
FEMALE VOICE: I
wish that were so.
But I do hear.
I must speak.
Those were fine
and terrible times.
His jealous rages.
And then a strike.
The blow.
He didn't mean but it done.
No!
FEMALE VOICE: Yes.
At long last the truth.
We have lived twice, but
you killed us both, now.
It's over.
No.
FEMALE VOICE: I've
lived with your weakness
and your lies since
you killed me.
But when you killed him, we
both knew it was finished,
I can't stay.
You must.
FEMALE VOICE: No.
You're alone now.
Goodbye.
No!
FEMALE VOICE: Goodbye.
Ria!
FEMALE VOICE: Goodbye.
Ria!
Make her come back.
I can't.
And neither can you.
Mr. Fabian, I must
place you under arrest.
[gentle music]