Blood Bath

I...

I forgive you for everything, Melizza.

Do you hear? For everything.

But... but now I need you.

Just once more, I need you.

You must come back to me, Melizza.

- Good night. - Good night. Ha-ha-ha-ha!

Fantastic.

- Yes, but of course... - Shh. Wait.

- Amazing. - Yes, Bruno, it's really great.

I'm impressed.

- Max, what do you think? - Interesting.

Formal, but interesting.

- Formal? - Yeah, sure.

It is a bit formal, isn't it?

Yes, Max is right. It's formal.

Oh, it's an experiment.

What about the painting, Max?

What? You have a new painting, Max?

Yes, it's true.

And this time, he's promised that I'll be recognizable.

And you have it here now?

You're about to witness an historic occasion,

the first public presentation of quantum painting.

Quantum painting?

I have perfected an instrument, a liquid gun,

by which I am able to apply the laws of quantum physics to my art.

Hey, Max.

That's pretty good.

So, you can paint a real picture after all. It even looks like me.

Max, I don't understand this. It's... it's formal.

It... it's a joke?

A hoax?

And because of the paradoxical nature of quantum theory,

it is necessary that the energy be superimposed

upon a completely formal image.

This is achieved by means of the quantum gun.

Signor Max, please.

- Ha-ha-ha-ha! What... - Quiet, you fool!

I am about to astound the world.

The quantum gun contains a tiny projectile loaded with pigment.

When it strikes the canvas with tremendous velocity...

But you shall see.

The canvas even now is ready to receive its quantum of energy.

Hey, Max, what are you doing? Are you crazy?

Wow! Did you see that?

- This looks astounding! - I warn you!

- Never seen anything like it. - Yes, Max, you've done it again.

Look!

Millions of tiny little flicks.

- Like the universe. - That's my face, Max.

- That isn't funny. - Of course it's not funny.

It's... it's brilliant. It's tremendous.

- It's pure quantum energy. - Well, I think it's puerile.

You think? What does it matter what you think? I am the artist!

Signor Max, please. I have a buyer, a professional buyer.

Perhaps I can be of some assistance, madam?

If there is any particular painting...

Oh, there is.

Have you anything by this fellow who paints these...

these dead red nudes?

Ah, Antonio Sordi.

Madame, you... you are indeed fortunate. I... I have just one.

The latest one, in fact.

Oh, yes! Exactly.

- I'll take it. - The world is full of idiots.

Genuine Sordi. Genuine nobody.

Dead red nudes.

I think it's rather good.

Very well. I shall paint your portrait.

Right now, for all posterity.

I shall entitle it, "Portrait of an Idiot".

You will be famous.

Portrait...

of an...

- ...idiot. - Hey!

Wait. Wait! Amazing!

The form. The composition.

More! More!

I shall astound the world.

Daisy?

No, no, no, no. No, no, no.

Darling, you do not understand. You do...

The movement is mechanically simple,

but... but you must create the agony,

the agony of the soul of the earth,

which is struggling, struggling to free itself

from... from the cosmic current

which is binding it irresistibly to the primordial energy ocean.

Now, darling, please. Please let's try again. Please.

I don't know if I understand it yet.

Don't... don't say that, darling. Don't say that word, please.

Just remember the soul of the earth.

Please, darling, let's try again.

This is it! This is it!

Darling, this is the soul of the earth.

Girls, thank you very much. Good night.

We will create again tomorrow. Thank you very much!

Daisy, hi.

Dorean, what do you call that?

That's a very serious moment in a very serious new ballet.

All very far out, you know. Come on, while I change.

No, no, no, girls! You don't understand, girls! You do not...

Speaking of crazy artists, how's that Max?

Max? Oh, yeah, Max.

Well...

Dorean, I was thinking about moving back into your place for a while.

If it's alright with you.

Oh, sure, Daisy, of course. Most of your stuff's still there anyway.

Hey, Daisy, I'm glad. I think that Max is a kook anyway.

Got your keys?

Yes. Aren't you coming home now?

No, I'm meeting someone.

Oh, I thought there were rules around here about ballet

and, er... outside attachments.

There are, but no one's gonna find out.

I'm being very discreet.

We have a secret meeting place down by the beach.

Why are you being so discreet? You really should be careful.

You're a little naive when it comes to men.

- Oh! - Oh, I... I'm sorry.

I frightened you.

Don't be afraid. I'll leave if you like.

Oh. Oh, no. I'm all right.

Don't go.

It's just that I was looking at those pictures in the window.

They're kind of spooky and I...

- Are you? - Mm, yes, Antonio Sordi.

I, er... come here quite often to look at my lost children.

Well, I can understand that.

It was silly of me to be frightened. It's just that the pictures are so...

Yes, I know, gruesome.

Yes.

But fascinating.

Like looking down from a high place.

It... it frightens you because...

it makes you realize that you'd like to jump off.

It shows you that the horror of death is that you...

desire it.

That's a very astute observation. Are you an artist?

Oh, no.

But I often contribute to the work of...

others.

I suppose I should introduce myself.

My name is Daisy Allen and I'm a student of this and that

and...

I'm talking an awful lot, aren't I?

I'm afraid I had a little too much to drink.

No, no, not at all.

I'm pleased that you're no longer frightened.

You may even criticize my work, if you like.

Well, I certainly shall.

Now, the trouble is...

I don't see enough of it.

Why aren't you home working right now?

You're quite right. I should be.

But it seems my muse has been avoiding me.

You need...

a subject.

Oh, what a marvelous place to work in!

It certainly seems suited to your style.

It's more cheerful during the day.

No doubt.

Say, those bells really get to you, don't they?

Oh, yes, the bells. I hardly notice them anymore.

They're right above us in the tower.

You know, they've rung every hour on the hour since the 11th century.

Except for once, when there wasn't a Sordi to wind the mechanism.

Sordi?

This some kind of ancestral home of yours?

Yes, at one time.

Now it's a museum, and I'm allowed to rent this miserable corner...

and wind the clock.

But these are so much better than any I've seen in the shop.

Such brilliant darkness and death.

That's the essence of what I'm after,

to bring death to the canvas, as others seek to give it life.

The dead red nudes, they're called.

- Do you know that? - Oh, it doesn't matter.

These are only steps along the way.

I haven't achieved what I'm after yet.

Soon, perhaps.

Well, anyway, you still have to work from a live model, don't you?

Of course.

So, where would you like me?

Here, try this.

Just take a relaxed pose,

anything that seems normal and comfortable.

Are you going to paint me dead?

I never plan a picture.

It must be allowed to grow according to its own natural law.

- Is this all right? - It's perfect.

It's a pleasure to have a model who understands composition.

Well, it's the way you've arranged the pillows. It feels so natural.

What made the clock stop?

What's that?

The clock up above, with the bell.

You said it stopped once.

Oh, yes, that's right.

Well, it was in the 15th century,