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Vertigo (1958 1996) CD1

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Give me your hand!
Give me your hand.
-I thought you said no more aches or pains.|-It's this darned corset. It binds.
No three-way stretch? How very un-chic.
You know the police department doctors.|No sense of style.
Anyway, tomorrow will be the day.
What's tomorrow?
The corset comes off tomorrow.
I'll be able to scratch myself tomorrow.
I'll throw this miserable thing|out the window. I'll be a free man.
Midge, do you suppose|many men wear corsets?
-More than you think.|-Really?
Do you know that|from personal experience or....
-What happens after tomorrow?|-What do you mean?
What are you going to do|once you've quit the police force?
-You sound so disapproving, Midge.|-No. It's your life.
You were the bright, young lawyer|who decided...
...he was going to be|chief of police someday.
-I had to quit.|-Why?
Because of this fear of heights I have,|this acrophobia.
I wake up at night seeing that man fall|from the roof...
...and I try to reach out to him and....
-It wasn't your fault.|-That's what everybody tells me.
-Johnny, the doctors explained to you--|-I know, I know.
I have acrophobia,|which gives me vertigo, and I get dizzy.
What a moment to find out I had it.
You've got it, and there's no losing it.|And there's no one to blame. So why quit?
You mean, and sit behind a desk,|chair-borne?
-Where you belong.|-What about my acrophobia?
Suppose I'm sitting in this chair,|behind a desk.
A pencil falls from the desk|down to the floor...
...and I reach down to pick it up,|bingo, my acrophobia's back.
What'll you do?
I'm not gonna do anything for a while.
Don't forget, I'm a man|of independent means, as the saying goes.
Fairly independent.
Why don't you go away for a while?
You mean, to forget?|Midge, don't be so motherly.
I'm not gonna crack up.
-Have you had any dizzy spells this week?|-I'm having one right now.
Midge, the music.|Don't you think it's sort of....
What's this doohickey?
It's a brassiere.
You know about those things.|You're a big boy now.
I've never run across one like that.
It's brand-new. Revolutionary uplift.
No shoulder straps, no back straps,|but does everything a brassiere should do.
Works on the principle|of the cantilever bridge.
It does?
An aircraft engineer|down the peninsula designed it.
He worked it out in his spare time.
Kind of a hobby.
A do-it-yourself type of thing.
How's your love life, Midge?
That's following a train of thought.
Aren't you ever gonna get married?
You know there's only one man|in the world for me, Johnny-O.
You mean me.|We were engaged once, weren't we?
-Three whole weeks.|-Good old college days.
But you were the one that called off|the engagement, you remember?
I'm still available. Available Ferguson.
Midge, do you remember a fellow|in college by the name of Gavin Elster?
-Gavin Elster?|-Yes, funny name.
You'd think I would? No.
I got a call from Gavin today.|He dropped out of sight during the war.
Somebody said he went East.|I guess he's back.
-It's a Mission number.|-That's Skid Row, isn't it?
Could be.
He's probably on the bum and wants|to touch you for the price of a drink.
Well, I'm on the bum. I'll buy him|a couple drinks and tell him my troubles.
Not tonight. How about you and me|going out for a beer?
Sorry, old man. Work.
Then, I think I'll go home.
Midge, what'd you mean,|there's no losing it?
The acrophobia.
I asked my doctor.
He said that only another emotional shock|could do it and probably wouldn't.
You're not gonna go diving off|another rooftop to find out?
-I think I can lick it.|-How?
I have a theory.
I think if I can get used to heights|just a little bit at a time...
...just a little, like that,|progressively, you see?
I'll show you what I mean. Here.
I'll show you what I mean.
-We'll start with this.|-That?
What do you want me to start with,|the Golden Gate Bridge?
Watch this. Here we go.
Now, I look up, I look down.
-You're kidding. Wait a minute.|-There's nothing to it.
-Here.|-That's a girl.
I'll use that. Put it right there.
All right, here's the first step.
Okay, now step number two.
Step number two coming up.
There we are.
See? I look up, I look down, I look up....
I'm going right out to buy myself|a nice tall stepladder.
-Take it easy now.|-All right, now here we go.
No problem.
Why, this is a cinch.|I look up, I look down.
I look up, I look down.
How did you get in|the shipbuilding business, Gavin?
I married into it.
Very interesting business.
To be honest, I find it dull.
You don't have to do it for a living.
No, but one assumes responsibilities.
My wife's family is all gone.
Someone has to look after her interests.
Her father's partner runs the company yard|in the East. Baltimore.
So I decided, as long as I had to work at it,|I'd come back here.
-I've always liked it here.|-How long have you been back?
Almost a year.
You like it?
San Francisco's changed.
The things that spell San Francisco|to me are disappearing fast.
Like all these.
I should have liked to have lived here then.
Color, excitement, power.
Shouldn't you be sitting down?
No, I'm all right.
I was sorry to read about that thing|in the paper. And you've quit the force.
-Is it a permanent physical disability?|-No, no.
It just means I can't climb stairs|that are too steep or go to high places... the bar at the Top of the Mark.
There are plenty of street-level bars|in this town.
Would you like a drink now?
No, I don't think so.
It's a little early in the day for me.
I guess that covers everything, doesn't it?
I never married,|I don't see much of the old college gang.
I'm a retired detective|and you're in the shipbuilding business.
What's on your mind, Gavin?
I asked you to come up here, Scottie,|knowing that you'd quit detective work...
...but I wondered whether you'd go back|on the job as a special favor to me.
I want you to follow my wife.
No, it's not that.|We're very happily married.
-Well, then....|-I'm afraid some harm may come to her.
-From whom?|-Someone dead.
Scottie, do you believe|that someone out of the past...
...someone dead, can enter|and take possession of a living being?
If I told you I believe this has happened|to my wife, what would you say?
I'd say take her to the nearest psychiatrist|or psychologist...
...or neurologist or....|Or maybe just the plain family doctor.
I'd have him check on you, too.
Then you're of no use to me.|I'm sorry I wasted your time.
Thanks for coming in, Scottie.
I didn't mean to be that rough.
No, it sounds idiotic, I know.
And you're still the hardheaded Scot,|aren't you?
Always were.|Do you think I'm making it up?
I'm not making it up.|I wouldn't know how.
She'll be talking to me about something.
Suddenly the words fade into silence.
A cloud comes into her eyes|and they go blank.
She's somewhere else, away from me,|someone I don't know.
I call to her, she doesn't even hear me.
Then, with a long sigh, she's back.
Looks at me brightly.|Doesn't even know she's been away.
Can't tell me where or when.
How often does this happen?
More and more in the past few weeks.
And she wanders.|God knows where she wanders.
I followed her one day...
...watched her coming out|of the apartment, someone I didn't know.
She even walked a different way.
Got into her car and...
...drove out to Golden Gate Park,|five miles.
Sat by the lake...
...staring across the water at the pillars|that stand on the far shore.
You know, Portals of the Past.
Sat there a long time without moving.
I had to leave, get back to the office.
When I got home that evening,|I asked her what she'd done all day.
She said she'd driven|to Golden Gate Park...
...and sat by the lake, that's all.
The speedometer on her car showed|that she'd driven 94 miles.
Where did she go?
I've got to know where she goes|and what she does...
...before I get involved with doctors.
-Have you discussed this with the doctors?|-Yes, but carefully.
I want to know more|before committing her to that kind of care.
I'll get you a firm of private eyes|to follow her for you.
-They're dependable, good boys.|-I want you.
Look, this isn't my line.
Scottie, I need a friend,|someone I can trust.
I'm in a panic about this.
I'm supposed to be retired. I don't want|to get mixed up in this darn thing.
Look, we're going to an opening|at the opera tonight.
We're dining at Ernie's first.|You can see her there.
Say, will you tell me something?|That lady sitting there.
Who's the woman in the painting?
That's Carlotta. You'll find it|in the catalogue. Portrait of Carlotta.
-May I have this?|-Yes.
Is there something I can do for you?
-Yes. You run this hotel?|-Yes.
Would you tell me who has the room|on the second floor... the corner, that corner?
I'm afraid we couldn't give out information|of that sort.
Our clients are entitled to their privacy,|you know.
And I do believe it's against the law.
Of course, I don't think any of them|would mind really, but still I--
Has she done something wrong?
Please answer my question.
-I can't imagine that sweet girl--|-What's her name?
-Miss Valdés. Spanish, you know.|-Carlotta Valdés?
Yeah, that's it.
Sweet name, isn't it? Foreign, but sweet.
How long has she had the room?
It must be two weeks.|Her rent's due tomorrow.
Does she sleep here ever?
No, she just comes to sit|two or three times a week.
I don't ask questions, you know,|as long as they're well-behaved.
When she comes down,|don't say I've been here.
But she hasn't been here today.
I just saw her come in five minutes ago.
No, she hasn't been here at all.|I would have seen her.
I've been right here all the time,|putting olive oil on my rubber plant leaves.
And there.
You see? Her key is on the rack.
-Would you please go up and look?|-To her room?
-That's right.|-Yes, of course, if you ask.
-But it does seem silly.|-Thank you.
Mr. Detective?
Would you like to come and look?
-Her car's gone.|-What car?
...who do you know that's an authority|on San Francisco history?
That's the kind of greeting a girl likes.
None of this:|"Hello, you look wonderful" stuff.
Just, "Do you know an authority|on San Francisco--"
-Want a drink?|-No, thanks.
Well, who do you? You know everybody.
Professor Saunders over in Berkeley.
No, I don't mean that kind of history.
I mean the small stuff,|people you never heard of.
You mean the gay old bohemian days|of gay old San Francisco.
Juicy stories, like who shot who|in the Embarcadero... August, 1879.|-Yeah, that's right.
-Pop Leibel.|-Who?
Pop Leibel.|He owns the Argosy Book Shop.
What do you want to know?
I want to know who shot who|in the Embarcadero in August, 1879.
Wait a minute. You're not|a detective anymore. What's going on?
-You know him well?|-Who?
-Pop Leibel.|-Sure.
Come on. I want you to introduce me.
-Get your hat.|-I don't need a hat.
Johnny, what's it all about?
Wait a minute.
Yes, I remember.
The beautiful Carlotta.
The sad Carlotta.
What does an old house|on the corner of Eddy and Gough...
...have to do with Carlotta Valdés?
It was hers.|It was built for her many years ago.
-By whom?|-By....
No. The name I do not remember.
A rich man. A powerful man.
-Cigarette?|-No, thank you.
-Cigarette, miss?|-No, thanks.
It is not an unusual story.
She came from somewhere small,|to the south of the city.
Some say from a mission settlement.
Young, yes. Very young.
And she was found dancing and singing|in a cabaret by that man...
...and he took her...
...and built for her the great house|in the Western Addition.
...there was a child.
Yes, that's it. The child. The child.
I cannot tell you|exactly how much time passed...
...or how much happiness there was...
...but then he threw her away.
He had no other children.|His wife had no children.
So, he kept the child and threw her away.
You know, a man could do that|in those days.
They had the power and the freedom.
And she became the sad Carlotta.
Alone in the great house...
...walking the streets alone...
...her clothes becoming old|and patched and dirty.
And, the mad Carlotta...
...stopping people in the streets to ask:
"Where is my child?
"Have you seen my child?"
-Poor thing.|-And she died.
-She died.|-How?
By her own hand.
There are many such stories.
-Thank you very much.|-You are welcome.
-I appreciate it. Good-bye.|-Good-bye.
Wait a minute! Good-bye, Pop.|Thanks a lot.
-Now then, Johnny-O, pay me.|-For what?
-For bringing you here. Come on, tell.|-There's nothing to tell.
-You'll tell or be back in that corset.|-Come on. I'll take you home.
There we are.
-You haven't told me everything.|-I've told you enough.
-Who's the guy and who's the wife?|-Out. I've got things to do.
I know. The one that phoned.|Your old college chum, Elster.
Midge, out, please.
The idea is the beautiful, mad Carlotta|has returned from the dead...
...and taken possession of Elster's wife.
Johnny, really. Come on.
I'm not telling you what I think,|I'm telling you what he thinks.
-What do you think?|-Well, I....
-Is she pretty?|-Carlotta?
Not Carlotta. Elster's wife.
Yes. I guess you'd consider|that she would be--
I think I'll go take a look|at that portrait. Good-bye.
You've done well, Scottie.|You're good at your job.
-That's Carlotta Valdés.|-Yes.
There are things you didn't tell me.
-I didn't know where she'd lead you.|-But you knew about this.
You notice the way she does her hair?|There's something else.
My wife, Madeleine, has several pieces|of jewelry that belonged to Carlotta.
She inherited them.
Never wore them.|They were too old-fashioned.
Until now.
Now when she's alone,|she takes them out and looks at them...
...handles them gently, curiously...
...puts them on and stares at herself|in the mirror...
...and then goes into that other world,|is someone else again.
Carlotta Valdés was what,|your wife's grandmother?
The child who was taken from her...
...whose loss drove Carlotta mad and to|her death, was Madeleine's grandmother.
And the McKittrick Hotel|is the old Valdés home.
I think that explains it.
Anyone could become obsessed|with the past with a background like that.
She never heard of Carlotta Valdés.
She knows nothing of a grave out|at the Mission Dolores?
Or that old house on Eddy Street?
The portrait at|the Palace of the Legion of....
-Nothing.|-When she goes to these places--
She's no longer my wife.
How do you know|all these things she doesn't?
Her mother told me most of them|before she died.
I dug out the rest for myself here.
-Why wouldn't she tell her daughter?|-Natural fear.
Her grandmother went insane,|took her own life.
Her blood is in Madeleine.
Boy, I need this.
No, it's all right.
Yeah, I'll call you back.
You all right?
You'll want this.
You'd better come over here|by the fire where it's warm.
What am I doing here?
What happened?
Well, you fell into San Francisco Bay.
And I tried to dry your hair as best I could.
Your things are in the kitchen.|They'll be dry in a few minutes.
Come on over by the fire.
I'll get you some cushions.
There you are.
Would you like to have some coffee?
Here, you'd better have some.|Or perhaps you'd like a drink?
I fell into the Bay and you fished me out?
That's right.
-Thank you.|-You don't remember?
No, I....
Do you remember where you were?
Yes. Of course I remember that.
But then I must have had a dizzy spell|and fainted.
Where were you?
At Old Fort Point. Out at the Presidio.
Of course I remember. I often go there.
Why? Why do you go there?
Because I love it so. It's beautiful there.
Especially at sunset.
Thank you for the fire.
Where were you before?
-When?|-This afternoon, I mean.
Wandering about.
I know, but where?|Where were you just before?
Downtown, shopping.
Here, you'd better have some coffee.
I think it's still warm.
You're terribly direct in your questions.
I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude.
You're not. You're merely direct.
And what were you doing there,|at Old Fort Point?
Just wandering about.
-You like it, too?|-Yes.
And where had you been just before?
I'd been to the Palace of the Legion|of Honor, the art gallery.
Yes, that's a lovely spot, isn't it?
I've never been inside,|but it looks so lovely driving past.
It's lucky for me,|you were wandering about.
Thank you.
I've been a terrible bother to you.
No, you haven't.
When you....
There were some pins in my hair.
The pins, yes. Right in here.|I'll get 'em for you.
And my purse, please.
-Here you are.|-Thank you.
You shouldn't have brought me here.
I didn't know where you lived.
You could have looked in my car.|But you didn't know my car, did you?
I knew which one it was.|It's right outside here now.
But I didn't think you wanted|to be taken home that way.
No, you're right.
I'm glad you didn't take me home.|I wouldn't have known you.
Thank you. But I don't know you|and you don't know me.
-My name is Madeleine Elster.|-My name's John Ferguson.
Good, strong name.|Do your friends call you John or Jack?
John, mostly.
Old friends call me John.|Acquaintances call me Scottie.
I shall call you Mr. Ferguson.
Gee whiz, I wouldn't like that.
After what happened this afternoon,|I should think you'd call me Scottie.
Maybe even John.
I prefer John.
There, that's done.|And what do you do, John?
I wander about.
That's a good occupation.|And you live here, alone?
-One shouldn't live alone.|-Some people prefer it.
No, it's wrong.
I'm married, you know.
Will you tell me something?|Has this ever happened to you before?
Falling into San Francisco Bay.
No, it's never happened before.
I've fallen into lakes, out of rowboats,|when I was a little girl.
I even fell into the river once|trying to leap from one stone to another.
But I've never fallen|into San Francisco Bay.
Have you ever before?
No, it's the first time for me, too.
I'll get you some more coffee.
-Hello?|-What happened? She's not home yet.
She's all right. She's still here.|I'll bring her home soon.
-What happened?|-She went into the Bay.
-Hello? Hello?|-Did she hurt herself?
No, she'll be fine.|There's nothing to worry about.
But she doesn't know. Do you understand?
She doesn't know what happened.
Scottie, Madeleine is 26.
Carlotta Valdés committed suicide|when she was 26.
Just hold on a minute, Gavin.
Well now, Johnny-O. Was it a ghost?
Was it fun?
That letter for me?
-Yes. Hello.|-Hello.
I worried about you last night.|You shouldn't have run off that way.
Well, I suddenly felt such a fool.
I wanted to drive you home.|Are you all right?
Yes, I'm fine. No aftereffects.
As I remember now,|the water was cold, wasn't it?
-lt sure was.|-What a terrible thing for me to do.
You were so kind.
It's a formal thank-you note|and a great big apology.
-You've nothing to apologize for.|-Yes, I do.
The whole thing must have been|so embarrassing for you.
Not at all. I enjoyed...
...talking to you.
I enjoyed talking to you.
I'll get my mail.
-Would you like to have a cup of coffee?|-No, thank you.
I couldn't mail it. I didn't know|your address, but I had a landmark.
I remembered Coit Tower.|It led me straight to you.
That's the first time|I've been grateful for Coit Tower.
-I hope we will too.|-What?
-Meet again sometime.|-We have.
Where are you going?
I don't know.
Anywhere in particular?
I just thought that I'd wander.
That's what I was going to do.
That's right. I forgot.|It's your occupation, isn't it?
Don't you think it's a waste|for the two of us....
To wander separately?
But only one is a wanderer.
Two together are always|going somewhere.
I don't think that's necessarily true.
-You left your door open.|-Be right back.
How old?
Some 2,000 years or more.
-The oldest living things.|-Yes.
-You've never been here before?|-No.
What are you thinking?
Of all the people who've been born|and have died...
...while the trees went on living.
Their true name is Sequoia sempervirens.|"Always green, ever living."
-I don't like them.|-Why?
Knowing I have to die.
Here's a cross section of one|of the old trees that's been cut down.
Somewhere in here I was born...
...and there I died.
It was only a moment for you.
You took no notice.
Madeleine, where are you now?
-Here with you.|-Where?
-The tall trees....|-Have you been here before?
When were you born?
-Long ago.|-Where?
When? Tell me.
-Madeleine, tell me.|-No!
-Where do you go? What takes you away?|-I can't tell you.
When you jumped into the Bay,|you didn't know where you were.
-I didn't jump. You told me I fell.|-Why did you jump?
-I can't tell you.|-What was inside that told you to jump?
Please, don't ask me.
Take me away from here.
Shall I take you home?
Somewhere in the light.
Promise you won't ask me again.|Please promise me that.
Why did you run?
I'm responsible for you now.
The Chinese say|that once you've saved a person's life...'re responsible for it forever,|so I'm committed.
I have to know.
There's so little that I know.
It's as though I were walking|down a long corridor...
...that once was mirrored, and fragments|of that mirror still hang there...
...and when I come to the end|of the corridor...
...there's nothing but darkness.
And I know that|when I walk into the darkness...
...that I'll die.
I've never come to the end.|I've always come back before then.
-Except once.|-Yesterday?
And you didn't know what happened|till you found yourself with me.
You didn't know where you were.
But the small scenes, the fragments|of the mirror, you remember those.
-Vaguely.|-What do you remember?
There's a room...
...and I sit there alone.
-Always alone.|-What else?
-A grave.|-Where?
I don't know. It's an open grave and...
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