The Marquis de Sade's mind was a maelstrom
of violent thoughts.
But more than anyone of his time,
he understood the essential fact of the human condition.
He knew that each of us is capable of the actions
that he described in such terrifying detail.
He knew that we must not deny a darker side,
that we must examine it closely
so that we may rid ourselves of our fears and our hatred...
and thus find our humanity.
The man was sick.
You have a question, Larissa?
No, it's just,
you're making him out to be some kind of prophet
when he was a pervert.
And... he didn't make this stuff up,
he lived this way.
How many people did he have to kill
to get his insight?
There is no record of de Sade killing anyone.
Well, then how many have been killed
because of sickos that admired him?
I think you're missing the point. Professor,
there's a psycho loose in this city right now.
There's women disappearing,
bodies turning up in the river.
We've even lost somebody from our own class.
Are you saying that that's okay?
It's just somebody exploring their dark side?
I am saying that a society
that looks at itself honestly is healthy.
And one that denies its own evil breeds death and decay.
You tell me which one we're living in.
That's all.
See you next week. Thank you.
(students chattering)
Professor Eby, I just wanted to tell you
I'm finding your class very enlightening.
Why, thank you, Stephanie.
STEPHANIE: I'm so relieved you understand me.
I would have been so embarrassed...
EBY: Of course, I understand.
I've been doing this a lot longer than you have.
Here, I'll take your coat.
Oh, certainly.
I've read everything you've written on de Sade.
There's quite a lot of it.
Well, it's the, uh, academic way, isn't it?
Publish or perish.
Uh, there were a couple of books in the library
by a man named Arnold Eby.
Is he any relation?
My father.
Oh.
This way.
He seemed more interested
in the Marqui'' lost manuscripts.
Why, yes, he's a... he was quite the scholar, my father.
And that made him devote his life to the search.
It may be worth a fortune if someone found them.
Well, they'd be worth much more than that.
(key rattles in lock)
They would provide us
with new ways to explore our darker nature
and make it much less easy for the world to turn away.
(door creaks)
(door closes)
What's this?
EBY: A painting.
A painting from his time.
Some believe it was done by his own hand.
Perhaps you'd like a better look.
(gasps)
What are you doing?
(muffled gasp)
(gasping breaths)
Do anything he asks.
He has all of the answers we seek.
(screaming)
(thudding)
(panting)
Welcome, mademoiselle.
Now, don't be afraid.
There are no dangers here,
except those you wish to embrace.
(whooshing sound)
(sighs)
(thunder crashing)
(phonograph powers up)
(slow ragtime jazz playing)
(mechanical creaking)
(chimes tinkling)
(thunder crashes)
Jack, what are you looking for, anyway?
I got a bill yesterday
from a travel agent who's trying to collect a debt
that Lewis owed him.
Jack's sure that his records'll help trace some of the objects.
Well, at least we'll have an idea
how far afield he traveled.
Well, we won't have to go that far.
I saw the police searching the river again.
We've been over all this before, Johnny.
The bodies that they're finding in the river aren't those
of the women who are disappearing.
Well, doesn't that seem kind of strange?
Well, the police seem convinced
that the cases aren't related.
And we haven't been able to find any hint
of any cursed object at work.
So let's direct our energies to something
that might be a little bit more productive. Here.
(gasping breaths)
(fire crackling)
(whip thuds on floor)
(gasps)
Now, don't confuse the pain with malice, hmm?
One gives his lover pain...
only seeking to make an impression.
Hmm? Come on.
The intensity of her agony increases his pleasure,
that he may then make her pleasure greater.
In life, there are those who enjoy and those who endure.
We have a new guest, Latour.
See she gets upstairs safely.
Where are you taking me?
To a world you've never known.
(kissing)
(gasping)
(woman whimpering)
Not you. Her.
WOMAN: Oh.
Please, my Lord, no!
I've written to my mistress, the Duchess Darnay.
She arrives in Paris soon.
I'm sure she'll pay any ransom you ask.
Read it.
It says nothing of you or-or what's happened here.
Please.
Please. No, I beg you!
I beg you! Please!
(pounding on door) Please! Please!
They're all so eager at first,
willing to trade anything for a meal and a clean bed.
Then just when you start to see what you are,
fear sets in.
And you can't bear to look anymore.
If you can't escape your flesh before death,
then death becomes your only escape.
And you're fit for nothing but the charnel pit.
(screaming) (whooshing)
"November 21, 1985,"
first class delivery to New York
once again paid by Arnold Eby.
Who is this guy?
He flew Lewis to New York, London, Paris.
Wait a second.
There's a notation here on the last receipt.
Excess baggage delivered to 2225 Riverside.
That's Harold Lafontaine.
He's an art appraiser.
That's the address of his gallery.
I guess you two better talk to him tomorrow.
Okay.
Well, I think you two better.
I have an appointment with Mrs. Hudson on Chester Street.
Ah, of course,
the antique fire dogs, yeah.
Well, then, Johnny, I guess it's you and I, hmm?
My Lord.
Huh?
General Lafayette.
What?
General Lafayette. He says it's urgent.
Shall I hide her?
Yes, permanently.
(sighs)
She thought she was strong.
In the end,
all she could do was offer her fears.
(door opens)
DONATIEN: General,
an honor... even at this hour.
I'm sorry to disturb you, Monsieur Le Marquis,
but another peasant woman has been killed.
Ah, well, that's not news in times like these.
My men discovered her in the woods on your estate.
On my estate?
And was she trespassing or were your men poaching?
Monsieur...
I gave no permission for soldiers to enter my property.
La Coste belongs to France now.
You remain here by the mercy of the people.
Oh, please.
Spare me the politics.
I was in the Bastille when your friends stormed it.
Yes.
And you were there for crimes like these.
You'll find no one who saw me with this peasant,
whoever she is.
Find your culprit elsewhere.
King Louis put me in prison unjustly,
and you would do the same.
Nothing has changed!
Your abuses will lead you to the guillotine
and bring it down on every perfumed neck in France.
(chuckles)
And wouldn't that be something, hmm?
Good night, monsieur.
I wish you no ill in this matter.
No, nor I you.
Professor?
Larissa, what brings you here?
I need to talk to you.
Oh, I have no time today.
A colleague from France sent me these.
They could be de Sade's.
This is more important.
Nothing could be more important than these.
These may be from his lost manuscript.
Listen to this.
"Those who persecute me know my comfort with my darker nature
"means no guilt nor fear can be used against me.
And to be sure, guilt and fear are their only weapon."
Stephanie didn't come back to the dorm last night.
I'm sure that's not an unusual occurrence on this campus.
I saw her leaving with you.
She's the second girl from our class to disappear.
Now, I want to know where she is.
I have no idea.
But the last time I saw her, she was fine.
Yeah, well, if I don't hear from her soon,
I'm going to the police.
Larissa.
(sighs)
(door closes)
(shoes squeaking quietly)
(door creaks)
(grunts)
(gagging)
(grunts)
(groans)
(body thudding) (gasping)
(screams) (whooshing)
(grunts)
(screams)
There's no parchment?
What did I do wrong?
"To the Duchess Darnay, L'Hotel St. Denis, Paris.
February 8, 1790."
(door opens)
Of course I remember Arnold Eby.
He died, well, must be five, six years ago.
Yes.
What sort of pieces did you appraise for him?
Well, paintings mostly.
He primarily had me authenticate works of
the, uh, double face school.
Uh, double f...?
Two-sided, Johnny.
They were French, 18th century.
Yes. They painted on both sides of the canvas.
Usually an image of life on one side and death on the other.
The work that he and Lewis brought from New York,
was that an, uh, double face?
Yes, and a unique one.
Any luck, Walter?
Well, I found these.
Oh, good. Thanks.
Here we are. Ah, thank you.
When I authenticated them,
the pigments were consistent with late 18th century colors,
but they weren't mixed with an oil base.
They'd been applied to the canvas with human blood.
Blood?
According to legend,
the artist was a prisoner in the Bastille.
The painting disappeared when the Bastille was liberated.
The start of the French Revolution.
But Eby knew all about it.
He claimed the images were so real,
you could just step into them.
Oh, excuse me.
(overlapping chatter)
(sighs)
CATHERINE: "My dearest madame,
"I pray for your safe arrival
"and that you find your possessions in order.
"Your wigs and dresses have been prepared in the manner
"to which you are accustomed.
"I beg you to understand I mean no disrespect
"by not being there to greet you
"and see you are properly attended.
"My own folly has led me to these circumstances.
"No one else is to blame.
"Should you find it in your heart to forgive my absence,
"the kind gentleman bearing this letter
"will know my whereabouts.
"I remain, your servant.
Catherine."
DONATIEN: Good hunting, Latour.
We'll have fresh meat for the ball.
My Lord, the servant girl is missing.
If she finds the Duchess Darnay
and tells her what we've done here...
Our crimes are small in this world, Latour.
They're merely picturesque. (sighs)
Fetch me a fresh horse.
Micki didn't leave any messages.
Do you think she's okay?
Oh, sure.
Uh, Mrs. Hudson had other items
that may have come from the store.
I guess it takes time to get sorted out.
What'd you find in this?
Well, the manifest lists Arnold Eby as-as buying
a Louis XVI writing box
about one year before the traveling started.
But no mention of the painting, I'm afraid.
Well, if Lewis was looking for it,
there must have been some attraction.
Hmm.
Like a window in time?
Yeah, maybe.
But Lewis could've had that done to any painting.
This one had a power of its own, I think.
Like what?
Well, to judge by the symbols,
something to do with life and death.
Oh, boy, where is she?
You killed her!
No.
She was simply a messenger who didn't survive the journey.
Who was she?
My teacher and I have a special relationship.
I send him women.
If they please him, he sends me knowledge.
(whimpering softly)
If you're going to be any use to me,
you have to learn to be a friend of pain.
No!
(sobbing softly)
(grunts softly)
Your ladyship. (gasps)
I had no idea you'd arrived.
My maid had a key.
I saw no need to disturb anyone.
Ah, no, no, the-the fault is mine.
I should have known of your arrival.
You have a visitor.
I-I assumed you weren't here, but he insisted.
Duchess Darnay.
A pleasure.
Donatien Alphonse François Marquis de...
(chuckles)
Well, I'm sure
my... my disgraceful reputation precedes me.
It does? It does.
It always does.
(chuckles)
Uh, your maid has done well
in preparing for your reception.
Have you... spoken to her?
No, no, no.
I haven't.
Ah.
Then she hasn't told you of my invitation for this evening?
No.
(sighs) There are no longer
decent servants in the world.
(laughs)
(chuckles)
But you'll still come?
Oh.
Well, I-I...
The chateau's not ten minutes hence.
You must have seen it from the road.
La Coste offers pleasures few have experienced,
but none can resist.
Ah, Mrs. Hudson, it's, uh, Jack Marshak here,
Curious Goods. I'm sorry to phone you so late.
I'm, I'm trying to find Micki.
(entrance bell jingles)
What, not at all?
Uh, uh, no, no. Uh, thank you.
She waited in all afternoon, and Micki never showed up.
Had anybody in the neighborhood see her?
The police found another body in the river.
What a shame you're not coming.
Just keep your eyes and ears open.
This seems a lot of fuss over a dead peasant girl.
Find out what he knows, Countessa.
Your life could depend on it.
Ah, Countess.
Monsieur Le Marquis.
The Countess De Ville, the Duchess of Darnay.
You look stunning tonight, Countess.
And why not?
Everyone knows the finest parties are thrown
by the Marquis de Sade.
(chamber music playing inside, horses whinny)
Are you a guest of the Marquis?
Of course.
(chuckles)
I meant, a houseguest, dear.
Oh. Mm-mm.
What a shame.
I've been sent to discover what he's up to.
It's a wonderful intrigue.
Intrigue?
Everyone knows that he's between lovers.
And that's not possible for long
with a man like him.
(both chuckle)
So, of course, that bore Lafayette thinks
he's behind every evil that's perpetrated
on every woman in Paris.
I'm not sure what you're talking about.
These dead peasant girls.
With all this silly revolution business,
it's become a cause célèbre.
It's no reason
to send spies into a man's home.
I told him as soon as I got here.
I realize de Sade has a reputation, but...
Excuse me.
You're in the habit
of exploring a gentleman's chambers?
That depends upon the gentleman.
There's something behind this, isn't there?
The Countess does have a loose tongue, doesn't she?
Yes, it's a place for my private pleasures.
Oh.
May I see it?
Hmm.
(chuckles)
(door opening)
I painted it in prison. A double face.
But I much prefer the image on this side.
You enjoy seeing people in pain, don't you?
It's only when one is in pain
that one's true character is revealed.
We're creatures imprisoned by flesh.
Our souls will never be free
until we learn to ignore its weaknesses.
Is that what put you in prison?
If a man's taste in food is considered unusual,
it's amusing.
But when it's his taste in pleasure,
some feel that they can be his judges.
This helped me endure the anguish of my captivity,
to remember what happened here.
And what happens here now?
Whatever...
we wish.
LATOUR: My Lord,
General Lafayette is here.
He's ordering the guests away.
Madame.
DONATIEN: Lafayette!
Sir, madam, I'm sorry.
You'll have to follow me...
What is the meaning of this?
This is my home!
No one is here against their will!
Sacrificing you may be the only thing
that keeps them from the guillotine.
We found another body in your woods.
(people clamoring)
(horses whinnying)
No one can prove I have harmed anyone.
Your "reputation" will be enough proof for the people.
And your revolution has made you worse
than those you would destroy.
SOLDIER: Go on.
(footsteps thudding on stairs)
Should we call the police?
Johnny, she wouldn't be officially considered missing
for at least another day.
At least it wasn't her in the river.
Well, we have to do something.
We've walked to Chester Street
and back a dozen times.
I don't know what else to try.
Okay. Let's just assume that she's a victim
of whoever's taken these other women.
All right.
The police have been looking for him for months,
and they got nothing.
They've got an equal number of unidentified bodies.
What if they're victims of the same guy?
What?
Well, I was talking to one of the cops
down at the river,
and he told me he's not gonna check
the dead girl's dental records.
Why not?
Because just like all the other women,
they didn't have any dental work done.
I mean, maybe some missing teeth, but no bridges
or-or fillings or braces.
What are the odds on that happening?
Pretty good if you're from another time.
Like the 18th century?
It's that damn painting.
Yes, it is.
And it could be that we're on the right track
about something else.
It only gives you a one-way ticket.
A live woman disappears into time,
and a dead one comes back.
(grunting)
(sobbing softly)
No more. Please, no.
Oh, the world has always been in pain,
and your enjoyment of pain will help me buy his knowledge.
You're crazy! You're crazy!
Either the world deals with his words
or it deals with those
who try to understand for themselves.
(sobbing continues)
My name is Micki Foster.
I was born in the 20th century
and now find myself trapped in the year 1790.
I came here through a two-sided painting,
one created by the Marquis de Sade.
If I don't come back,
maybe this will explain what happened to me.
I can't help feeling
this is the most dangerous thing I've ever faced.
The Marquis is capable of unbelievable cruelty.
He's also the most fascinating man I've ever met.
There's something about him I've never felt before.
He has an aura of power
that comes from his willingness to embrace evil.
A charisma that comes from denying
what he does is evil to begin with.
It's a magnetism which is irresistible.
(whip cracking)
He acknowledges his own dark side,
making you feel so comfortable
you wonder what could possibly be wrong with doing the same.
(whip cracking)
He's a man without fear
and makes you wonder why you have any yourself.
He makes you doubt everything you hold dear.
(knock on door)
Oh!
Good morning, Duchess.
I have come to offer you more of my hospitality.
We were very rudely interrupted.
(entrance bell jingles)
Jack, how are you making out?
Well, the pattern fits.
A woman disappears on just about the same day
that a body appears.
A woman of the present traded for one of the past.
Yes, but a dead woman of the past.
The painting doesn't let you make the return journey alive.
Here are the probate papers on Eby's estate.
He left everything he had to his son Webster.
Where is he?
At the time, he was living in Toronto.
I phoned, but it was disconnected.
Try to trace the number, will you, Johnny?
I'll see if I can find out any more about this damn painting.
The hall of records had an obituary on Eby.
He's written a couple of books.
Really? What about?
The Marquis de Sade.
That's well ridden.
You seem surprised.
I haven't known many women so, uh, at home in the saddle.
Well, now it's my turn to be surprised.
(both laughing)
How long are you staying in Paris?
That may depend upon yourself.
You see, I've never met anyone so unrepentant.
You fascinate me.
I've heard that from many women.
(laughing)
You've been told that by peasant girls who fear you.
Never your equal. (horse whinnying)
I can devise tests that will break you, Duchess.
Let's see.
(gasping)
Eat.
You'll need your strength.
No more.
Please.
We'll do everything twice.
Once to get over the shock
and a second time to see what it offers.
Got it.
Webster Eby has been in a dozen places
since he collected his inheritance.
Three months ago, he moved back here.
That's when the disappearances started.
Maybe he hung on to his father's house.
Where is it? The address has to be
on one of those travel bills.
You know, the Marquis de Sade wasn't known for his art.
I don't see his connection with Lewis and Eby on this.
I think this is a dead end.
This isn't.
Arnold Eby lived on Chester Street.
You're not frightened?
No.
What makes you so different from the others, hmm?
You choose to be a victim, when you don't have to be.
You choose to be a torturer when you don't have to be.
My role doesn't feel the pain.
Ah.
No, you're brave for another reason.
And that is?
You think it will provide you with escape,
but there is none.
You!
(screams)
I've had someone watch the inn since your servant escaped,
but she hasn't gone the one place she would certainly go.
That means she went through there,
when you came the other way.
Life, like the charnel pit, offers no escape but death.
(grunting)
You've teased me for two days with your courage.
Now we'll see just how much you really have.
No.
(whimpering)
(stairs creaking)
Jack!
Everything is in the hunt, my dear.
And hunting you has been a joy.
It makes this so much sweeter.
(spits)
(fabric ripping)
(gasps)
(whip cracking)
(screams in pain)
Micki.
(whooshing)
DONATIEN: Latour, your sword! Johnny!
(swords clanging)
Drive him to me, Latour!
Drive him into the painting!
(whooshing)
(yelling in pain)
(swords clanging)
(grunting)
(straining with exertion)
MICKI: Johnny, no!
I think Jack found us a way. Come on!
MICKI: Johnny, no!
DONATIEN: He could be dead for all you know.
If you go, you could die, too.
I'd rather be dead, than be trapped here with you.
We're all trapped.
Inside this.
Death's our only escape.
You have the power.
Use it.
(sword dropping to floor)
(gasps)
Here we go. Okay.
I got it.
You found a place for it.
Hey, Mick, how're you feeling?
Fine, thanks.
I just called the hospital.
Eby's latest victim is coming along, too.
Lucky for her.
I can't figure out how Lewis found this thing.
JOHNNY: Hey, Jack, forget it.
It's here that's all that matters.
Where did this come from?
Oh, it's something else that Lewis sold to Eby.
JOHNNY: Yeah, we don't know what it does,
but we figured we'd bring it in there.
(gasps)
Micki what is it?
The letter I told you about.
The one I wrote where I explained
how the painting worked.
This is it.
It's been opened.
Eby found out about the painting when he bought this.
Jack, you don't suppose my writing this
caused all those killings?
No, Micki, no, it didn't.
Look, thoughts don't cause pain.
It's what people do with them.
People who are looking for evil, oh, they're gonna find it.
There's nothing anybody can do about that.
Mm-hmm.
Well, let's close it up.
Mm.