can anyone give me a summary of Movie 3?
plz
shareWell, this is a treatment for a third film I found once online:
THE SEVEN FATES OF DR. PHIBES
The Third Part of the Dr. Phibes Saga
A treatment by Paul Clemens
based on an original story by Ron Magid and Paul Clemens
based on characters created by James Whiton and William Goldstein
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[Comments from VINCENT PRICE to Paul Clemens about this screen treatment]
VINCENT PRICE
Dear Paul:
I love your new adventures of Dr. Phibes! It's well conceived and just preposterous enough to be
equal fun with the others.
I think it exactly the right time to do it as the out and out horror has been done to death, and a
laugh or two or in this case many more is what people want.
Keep in touch-I'm ready to go anytime.
Ever,
Vincent
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THE SEVEN FATES OF DR. PHIBES
The film begins with a short series of new scenes pre-dating the first Phibes film, showing Phibes
and his beautiful wife Victoria involved in the practice of various unfamiliar religious rites of
apparent Greek origin. They are in a structure much like a classic Greek temple but with art-deco
influences, wearing ancient Greek costumes. Phibes wears a special necklace during these
ceremonial sequences which we see in close-up detail. it is a round piece of black polished onyx
with Greek letters carved into it and a demonic face. It is attached to a steel chain. Phibes,
during these opening sequences, does not look quite as we are used to seeing him-gone is the
dead white pallor of his face and the purplish-pink shadings of the lips and eye area. The silver
hair, sideburns and moustache, however, are much the same, but it is at once obvious that he is
very much a living man during these sequences.
We now flash ahead slightly to their home in London's Maldine Square, where we see travel
preparations being made, boxes packed, etc. A brief conversation follows between Phibes and
Victoria concerning their three-fold plan to first travel to Egypt and seek out the River of Life
(which they discovered themselves some years before); to retrieve a set of seven ivory figures of
special mystical significance; and finally to journey to the isle of Crete and their underground
dwelling, there to complete the final phase of their plan.
Then, kissing Victoria goodbye and leaving her to finish closing up both their Maldine Square
and country homes, Phibes prepares to depart for Switzerland to terminate their bank account
and reclaim valuables stored there. They agree to meet in Egypt at the appointed time and
place. Phibes takes his leave, warning Victoria that her health is delicate and that she should not
strain herself.
Cutting to a hotel room in Switzerland, we see Phibes pick up the receiver of a ringing phone and
then react. "Victoria?" he asks; "Oh, God! What hospital? I'll be there as quickly as I can. Tell her
I'll be there!" As he slams down the receiver, we cut to-
Phibes in his chauffeured limousine, as the car races along a mountain road. Suddenly it skids
while making a sharp turn, plunges down a steep embankment, and bursts into flames. As this
scene fades to darkness....
The locale shifts to a mysterious Swiss clinic in a secluded mountain area. We see the back of a
bandaged head (Phibes). He sits in a chair in a medical office, being examined by an intense,
thin, Swiss doctor in his 60s. The doctor declares himself pleased beyond all expectations with
the extensive "repairs" done, regretting, however, that Phibes' face is quite beyond plastic
surgery. He expresses sorrow about Victoria's death, assuring Phibes that if he had been chief
surgeon, she never would have died on the operating table. The doctor concludes, saying that by
al laws of science and nature Phibes should be dead, and that he is sorry to keep such a medical
miracle a secret. Finally, he apologizes for his inability to restore Phibes' lost voice, but suggests
that, music and acoustics being Phibes' field, he might try his own hand at a solution. "I'm sure
you'll come up with something," he says, smiling.
We cut to a close-up of Phibes inserting the now-famous phonograph jack into his neck, and we
hear his familiar electronic chuckle as he glances at a newspaper showing a photo of the Swiss
doctor. The headline says something about the mysterious death of a controversial surgeon in an
exclusive Swiss clinic. The body was found on its own operating table, strangled, the
whereabouts of the murderer unknown. The killer had to have been a man of unusual strength,
because the victim was strangled by only one hand.
Phibes holds up his gloved right hand, flexes the fingers admiringly, and chuckles again.
A narrator tells us that Phibes, no longer living, nor truly dead, was ready to embark on his plan
to avenge the death of his beloved wife by systematically murdering the surgical team which
attended her at the end. But being no ordinary man, Phibes' murders were no ordinary murders,
but nine very particular deaths based on the G'tach, the ten curses loosed upon the Pharaohs of
Egypt by the Hebrews.
During this and subsequent narration, we see a brief series of scenes from the first and second
films, bringing us to the present-in this case, "Three Years Later." The period is some time in the
mid-1930s.
As the titles begin, we see a secluded canyon bordered by steep mountains. It is night, and a sea
of elephant bones and tusks glows in the moonlight.
Suddenly a door opens in the apparent solid rock of one mountain. Water cascades out, into a
sort of man-made riverbed in the canyon floor. The water winds its way on concentric circles,
spiraling into a basin at the center.
We then see Phibes' barge (from the conclusion of the second film) emerge from the mountain.
On it is Phibes, in a red and white toga. The Rolls-Royce coffin of Victoria lies on the barge as
well.
The barge spirals around into the central basin, where it comes to rest.
Phibes moves to the coffin and opens it. In close-up we see him looking down at his wife, and he
says through his Victrola that the appointed time has arrived: now, after their long voyage
together, she can awaken and join him in the last phase of their great plan.
Victoria awakens to the ethereal strains of Vulnavia's Theme, slowly opening her eyes and rising
to embrace Phibes.
They have a brief reunion, in which we learn that they are now immortal and that this place is
none other than the legendary Elephants' Graveyard, somewhere in Africa, which will supply
them with all the wealth they will need to complete their odyssey.
We also learn that their next destination is a secret place in England where, hidden away, they
will find a set of seven enchanted ivory figures, the final and essential elements of their plan.
We now cut to Phibes and Victoria in their first-class stateroom aboard an ocean liner. They sit at
a table before an elegant repast. Phibes toasts Victoria with champagne, then, in his customary
manner, pours it into a hidden aperture near the back of his neck. We hear a muffled sound of
suction. Victoria responds that she'll do her best to try and get used to little things like that, but
Phibes should bear with her in the meantime.
We then cut to the couple dancing to Phibes' favorite ballroom music on his trusty Victrola.
Victoria quips that, "This is the life, Anton," whereupon Phibes adds, "Yes, my dear-eternal life."
We jump ahead to the ship's arrival in England and Phibes' special limousine with painted faces
on the windows being lowered to the dock by crane. It is early evening.
We cut to a shot of the limo pulling to a stop outside the perimeter of what used to be Phibes'
house in Maldine Square. It has been replaced by a very new hotel.
Phibes looks out the one-way glass of the window, enraged. He turns to Victoria, speaking
through a hookup to a small speaker console in the car. Victoria is at the wheel.
"Who dared defile the sacred grounds of our house?!" he says, his voice hissing and sibilant,
"who dared to disturb the secret resting place of our jeweled box and its precious contents?"
"Perhaps it's still there, Anton," says Victoria.
"No, Victoria, I think not. Look at the building!" Phibes points at the hotel, his throat working. "A
building of that size demands a sizeable cellar. Larger even than ours was, my dear, and far
deeper. You must make the necessary inquiries while I prepare our new home in the country. Let
us go now. We shall begin our work tomorrow."
And as Phibes unplugs himself from the console, we see the car pull away from the hotel.
A succession of scenes follows the next day, in which we see Victoria charming information out
of the normally reticent and officious manager of the Maldine Square Hotel. We learn that the
owner occupies the penthouse apartment and should be able to furnish her with the necessary
information.
The obviously well-to-do owner of the building is a Mr. Dekker. Dekker is a middle-aged man
with the look of a perpetual bachelor, sophisticated but rather oily, who always seems to be
perspiring slightly, especially around attractive women. He gets his first glimpse of Victoria
through the fish-eye lens of the peephole. After some suspicious questions, he admits her.
We learn that shortly after purchasing the property, which had not been terribly expensive after
the publicity of the "Phibes" case (Victoria reacting slightly to this), he had discovered a
subterranean compartment during the demolition process, and had found the jeweled box and its
six ivory figures. "Six figures?" asks Victoria.
"Yes, six," he replies. "And why, may I ask, are you so interested, my dear?" He eyes her
lasciviously, perspiring and breathing heavily. "Are you an art collector?"
"Not exactly. More of an art historian. And I believe that the figures may be very valuable
indeed, if in fact they are part of a set of seven rather than six."
"Well, perhaps I should not have been hasty in putting them up for private sale, then," he says.
He motions for Victoria to follow him and takes her into a room where he removes an ornate
black box inlaid with ivory from a shelf, unlocking it with a key from his pocket.
Inside the box, which has spaces for seven items, is an exquisitely carved figure of Polyphemus,
Homer's Cyclops. He tells Victoria that this is the seventh piece, which he secretly kept for
himself. She asks if he might furnish her with the names of the people who bought the other six
pieces, and he agrees, on the condition that she join him for dinner. By dinner, he will have
drawn up a list for her. She agrees, and as she leaves, asks if anyone had ever asked about a
seventh figure.
He tells her that shortly after he had made it known that he had found the figures, he was
contacted by a very unusual man, Professor Grayson Norquist, who, he says, seemed to be mad
about owning the entire set and, after buying one figure, had contacted the other five owners,
making larger and larger offers from his collection of archaeological treasures, but to no avail.
On one or two occasions, Dekker tells Victoria, he did call inquiring if there might be a seventh
figure. But Dekker had revealed nothing. On a third occasion, Norquist had paid a call ad had to
be thrown out of the hotel.
As Dekker escorts Victoria to the elevator, he warns her away from Norquist, saying that he
keeps his acquisitions carefully hidden and would never consent to showing them to anyone. He
also asks that she not say anything to him or anyone else about his own "little secret."
Victoria agrees, saying she'll meet him there tonight for dinner, providing they'll be alone
together, of course.
"Of course," he says, smiling lecherously, "I wouldn't have it any other way."
As she leaves, Dekker moves to a locked room, unlocks the door and enters. Inside, we see a
haggard call girl, her mouth gagged and her wrists tied to two wooden posts. Tears stream down
her cheeks, and she is bruised and beaten.
Untying her, Dekker gives her a fair amount of cash, "to keep you quiet," he says, "until the next
time." He then tells her he won't be needing her tonight because he'll be dining with "a real lady."
She runs from the room, stifling sobs, as Dekker smiles self-satisfiedly.
We cut to Phibes' and Victoria's country home near Sussex. It is a stone manor house, not unlike
the original one in Maldine Square. When we get over our first look at the interior, we see at
once that Phibes has lost none of his extravagant touch for interior decorating. This is yet
another art-deco palace, complete with Phibes' band of "Clockwork Wizards" and glowing organ.
Phibes is plugged into his Victrola and is "speaking" to his wife.
"You have done well, my dear, and I thank you...But tonight's work is not for such as you. You,
like I, are destined soon to drink ambrosia with the gods, and need not trouble now with
unfamiliar work. I need the help of one who knows my vengeance well and can anticipate without
the need of words."
Victoria nods. Phibes turns toward an ornate door and gestures. Slowly, the door opens to reveal
a blazing whiteness.
"And once again," says Phibes, I call on you, Vulnavia."
As the Vulnavia theme begins, we see her materialize in yet another incarnation, out of the light.
"Come," says Phibes, "my trusted aid, to help me in my quest for justice."
Vulnavia, more beautiful than ever, wears another of her lavishly improbable hats and gowns,
and moves like a gliding specter to Phibes, who takes her hands.
"Thank you, my dear," he says, "for answering my call. And soon, quite soon, when our work has
been accomplished, you may join us in our destined place. And now we shall begin our task
anew."
As they move toward another door, Victoria flips a switch and starts up the clockwork musicians,
who play a lively jazz number as we cut to-
The Maldine Square Hotel. We see a brief sequence of Dekker listening to music on his Victrola
and sprucing himself up in the mirror. Phibes' limo, chauffeured by Vulnavia, pulls up outside the
Hotel's rear entrance. Climbing out of the car, they move silently into the back door, thus
bypassing the doorman. We then see Dekker moving to an ornate chair with a book and a glass
of wine. He settles down to wait. We cut to the elevator operator standing by the open elevator
with his back to the rear entrance. A cloth soaked in chloroform is clapped over his mouth by a
black-gloved hand, and he is pulled into the elevator. Vulnavia follows. The door closes.
We then see Dekker absorbed in Through the Looking Glass, sipping his drink. He glances at his
watch. Cut to Phibes and Vulnavia in the foyer. Phibes removes a small device from a doctor's
bag, consisting of a round metallic section and a suction cup attached to a cord leading to a sort
of plunger. Phibes attaches the suction device to the peephole, then hands the triggering
mechanism to Vulnavia. We cut back to Dekker. The doorbell rings. He gets up, straightening his
coat, and starts for the door. We see Phibes pressing the doorbell a second time, and hear
Dekker telling him to hold on. As he reaches the door, we see him putting his eye to the
peephole. "I'm sorry," he says, "Could you step back a little? I can't see a bloody thing." At which
point Phibes nods to Vulnavia, and she pushes down the plunger. A swift piercing noise and the
breaking of glass is heard as we see Dekker, from behind, stiffen and then go completely limp,
his body hanging impossibly upright while his arms and legs dangle. Phibes nods to Vulnavia a
second time, and she pulls the plunger out again, at which point we hear a heavy thud on the
other side of the door. Phibes smiles slightly (if masks can be said to smile), removes a skeleton
key from his pocket and fits it into the lock. On the other side of the door, we see the door swing
inward enough to show Phibes and Vulnavia entering, stepping over Dekker. Phibes retrieves a
key from Dekker's pocket and moves to the study, where he wastes no time procuring the ivory
figure of the Cyclops, the case, and the list of other owners, which lies conspicuously on the
blotter of an otherwise barren desk.
As Phibes snatches the list (in close-up) off the desk, he replaces it with the chloroform-soaked
cloth and bottle used earlier. A practiced hand then uses the cloth to pick up the bottle and drops
both into a plastic bag, which is handed to someone with an instruction to have the bottle
checked for prints. Pulling back, we see the hands are those of Inspector Trout, Phibes' nemesis
from Scotland Yard. He looks about the room while his assistant explains that from the servants'
testimony, it seems that the Cyclops statuette and case were the only items taken, that the
elevator man had not gotten a look at the killer, and that the only likely suspect at the moment is
a certain Grayson Norquist, who had been thrown out of the building a short time ago for
bothering Dekker.
Trout instructs his assistant to have Norquist brought in for questioning immediately. As the
assistant moves to leave, Trout asks, "Did you happen to get a good look at the body?"
"I did indeed, sir. Very nasty business," he replies.
"Yes," says Trout. "It just occurred to me."
"The butler has arrived, gentlemen," says another policeman behind them, and they turn to see a
thin, gray-haired man in his late 60s, very much the typical English butler, standing in the
doorway in his overcoat.
"I came as soon as I could after I received the terrible news. It was quite a shock. It was my night
off, you see. I hope I can be of some assistance."
"Perhaps you can," says Trout, "if you could tell us anything about Mr. Dekker's relationships or
dealings with people which might have led to this unfortunate occurrence."
"Well," says the butler, wracking his brain, "I don't really know if this is important or not,
but...well, Mr. Dekker always had an eye out for the ladies."
We see Trout's look of disapproval at this remark, then cut back to the butler's asking, "Did I say
something?" From his look of vague puzzlement, we go to:
Phibes' house near Sussex.
He is engaged in a ritual much like that in the first film where he blow-torched busts of his
victims one by one. However, now he has set up seven figures of wax representing his seven
victims. They are rather like voodoo dolls, each labeled with a name and hanging by nooses of
thread over miniature tanks filled with liquid.
With a grave ceremoniousness, Phibes picks up a pair of gold shears encrusted with jewels and
uses these to cut the thread suspending the first of the figures. The figure falls into the liquid,
which hisses and bubbles (obviously some kind of acid). After several seconds, a tiny skeleton
floats to surface, grinning its miniature death-grimace. Phibes then moves to Victoria and says,
in his best deadpan, "In the country of the blind, my dear, the one-eyed man is King...unless he
is a one-eyed dead man."
We then see a few scenes with Phibes, Victoria and Vulnavia at home, dancing, drinking
perhaps engaged in plotting or religious ritual, and of course, we hear another of Phibes' revenge
speech to his wife. "Six remain to slow delivery of our pain. Six deter us. Six must die. " Et
cetera.
"The music is the magic carpet that other things take naps on"- Tori Amos
Next part of the seven fates:
We cut to Scotland Yard, the following morning. Professor Norquist is brought in for questioning
by Inspector Trout. He claims to know nothing of the other owners of the figures, saying he knew
none of their names. Trout informs Norquist of their suspicions concerning his possible motive
for the murder and theft. He seems genuinely surprised to learn of the theft of the ivory Cyclops,
but not disturbed by the murder. He, of course, pleads innocent to the charges, and is held
overnight for further questioning. He does not protest. He seems a quiet, intellectual man,
looking very much the role of an archaeologist, art historian, and occult expert, with his lanky
build, thinning hair and spectacles. He also has the trace of a British accent in his rich, deep
voice. Altogether, an intriguing but somehow disquieting man. He seems to be in his mid-fifties,
is unusually tall and pale, and dresses primarily in blacks and whites, a bit like a walking Aubrey
Beardsley illustration. He walks with a pronounced limp.
Moving now to that evening, we see a small art gallery-cum-museum, surrounded by much
property and many trees, in a park-like area. The museum is being locked for the night by its
wealthy, snobbish owner, Bernard Hallifax. He is of medium height, very expensively dressed,
with graying hair, a white moustache, and a monocle as an affectation.
After the door is secure, he tours his small museum, passing a small ivory statue of Medusa. A
moment later he passes a beautiful pair of Egyptian mummy cases, and we linger on these, as
Hallifax moves out of view. Soon both cases swing open to reveal Phibes and Vulnavia. Hallifax
steps into his office and closes the door.
Soundlessly, Phibes and Vulnavia step from the cases, she holding some fairly large object
covered by velvet. Moving to the statue's pedestal, Phibes removes the Medusa and Vulnavia
sets the draped object in its place. At this point, Phibes nods to Vulnavia, who moves to another
pedestal, on which rests a delicately painted Grecian urn. She picks it up and raises it over her
head as if to drop it, but Phibes stops her with a gesture, having noticed instead a strange piece
of modern ceramic sculpture. He gives a distasteful glare and motions Vulnavia to it. And so,
putting the urn back in place, she moves to the ceramic and lets it fall casually to the floor, where
it shatters.
Cutting to Hallifax's office, we see him jump, startled, dropping a snifter of brandy, which also
shatters. Grabbing a revolver from a drawer, he runs hurriedly to the door and into the museum
proper.
His footsteps echoing on the marble, he rushes toward the fragments of sculpture. He skids to a
stop when he sees Dr. Phibes and his enchanting assistant. The monocle falls from his eye.
He demands to know who the bloody hell they are. Receiving no answer, he bellows that they
are trespassing and wants to know if they are responsible for the mess on the floor. Phibes
motions to Vulnavia, who curtsies slightly, smiling. "Stupid bloody question!" Hallifax chides
himself. "Who the hell else could be responsible? By the way, do you have any idea of the value
of that piece you broke?" Phibes answers by making a flippant gesture with his hand, as if to say
"Oh, please!"
Hallifax notices the Medusa statue in Phibes' hand and gasps "Oh my God!" He begs Phibes to
put it back. Phibes merely hands the figure to Vulnavia and walks toward Hallifax, who, quite
worried by now, backs up, making the usual warnings to keep away or else. Phibes continues his
advance without pause. Hallifax fires a shot at Phibes, who doesn't even react. Really terrified
now, he fires shot after shot until the chamber has been emptied. Phibes, as though taking a
hammer from a naughty child, takes the gun from Hallifax's trembling hand, disapprovingly
shaking his head, and crushes it.
Dropping what's left of the revolver, Phibes lifts Hallifax with one hand and carries him to a chair
facing the pedestal now holding the covered object. Vulnavia and Phibes tie him to the chair with
silk cords, which had a moment before served as the museum's guard ropes.
"You can't DO this to me," he insists, "I'm Bernard Hallifax!" He continues babbling about his
reputation and how he could make or break artists, making some the darlings of the art world,
driving others to suicide. He suddenly realizes he is doing little to help his case, and shuts his
mouth for the first time.
Phibes nods to Vulnavia, who gracefully unveils the object on the pedestal. We see that the
object is a large mechanical head of medusa made of silver and gold. It has a nasty grimacing
face and wide staring eyes made of emeralds. The snakes on her head are also encrusted with
emeralds and have ruby eyes.
Hallifax stares at it in a mixture of wonder and horror, then gets a sudden thought. "I know," he
says excitedly. "I see now. You want me to buy it for my gallery, but you want a good offer, of
course. Well, I'm sure we could arrive at a figure that would please you, no?" Phibes merely
nods to Vulnavia a last time, and she flips a gold switch protruding from the base supporting the
Medusa head. With a clockwork whirring, the head begins to move, springing to life as the eyes
light up, blazing green, and the hundred ruby eyes of the snakes glow like tiny embers, weaving
to and from in a mechanical dance.
Hallifax watches, unable to look away. The mouth of the Medusa opens wider and wider, then
freezes open in a silent screen. Suddenly, a high powered jet stream of gray liquid erupts from
the throat, hitting Hallifax with the force of a fire hose.
Within seconds he is covered head to toe in quick-drying cement.
Cutting to the next morning, we see a tableau consisting of Inspector Trout, standing to one side,
and Chief Inspector Waverly, standing to the other side. Between them sits Hallifax, a human
statue. In the foreground is the Medusa head.
Trout and Waverly stare first at each other, then at Hallifax, then at the Medusa. After a few
moments, they both cry, "Dr. Anton Phibes!"
Waverly quickly adds, "But...no, of course that's impossible, isn't it? I mean, it can't be...can it?"
"Do you know of any other man," asks Trout, "capable of turning someone into a bloody statue
with a bloody Medusa head?"
"I must admit," says Waverly, "you have a point. I suppose there's no other possibility. Damn!
And I thought we were rid of him for good."
"No, sir, Phibes is rather like a nasty cold. Sooner or later, he's bound to come back."
"Waverly looks down at Hallifax and grimaces. "Ooh," he says. "He's really outdone himself, this
time, hasn't he? I mean, you have to admire someone who can pull off the most consistently
extravagant crimes and make the police look like absolute idiots. I mean, um...what I meant to
say was..." He stops, realizing the hold he has dug for himself. He distractedly taps his fingers on
Hallifax's head. A piece of cement cracks and chips away, revealing Hallifax's eye.
"Do you think," said Waverly, "that he could still be...?"
Giving Waverly a pained look, Trout says, "I don't think so, sir."
"Quite," says Waverly. "Obviously, he's stone dead."
We cut to Phibes in his home, cutting a thread which drops the facsimile of Hallifax into the acid
bath. Phibes chuckles quietly and moves to a desk on which rest, side by side, the ivory figures
of the Cyclops and the Medusa. Phibes positions them in such a way that the bases fit together
and the statues interlock.
Meanwhile, back at Scotland Yard, things do not fit together quite so well for Trout. He is in his
office with Professor Norquist, in the midst of explaining how Hallifax died.
"And so," he says, "since the murder occurred while you were in our custody, we have no reason
to hold you a moment longer. Please accept our sincerest apologies and, of course, a police
guard will be sent round to your house for your own protection."
"Of course," says Norquist, "you were only doing your proper job. But I must inform you that
there is a very real death curse on those ivory pieces, if indeed they are genuine, which, in my
expert opinion, I believe them to be. Call it superstition if you like, but two men are dead because
of those pieces, and more will continue to die, I promise you."
"Oh, I don't doubt it," says Trout.
"Then you believe what I say?"
"If you mean, do I believe in the power of a centuries-old curse, no I do not."
"Then what would you call a seemingly inexorable force that strikes out, killing in strange ways,
without apparent motive?"
"Phibes."
"What?" asks Norquist.
"Dr. Anton Phibes," says Trout. "And he always has a motive. Although I wish to hell I knew what
it was this time."
"I recall hearing the name some years back," says Norquist. "That string of grisly killings, wasn't
it?"
"That's right," says Trout, "and now he's back again. God only knows why."
"A rather unusual man, as I recall," says Norquist.
"That's one way of putting it," says Trout.
We cut to Phibes feeding flies to a collection of spiders in a glass tank, delighting in his task.
A couple of brief scenes follow of Trout and his assistants trying to locate the other owners of the
ivory figures, with no success.
We shift locale to Grayson Norquist's Gothic mansion. In a basement converted to a Greek-
influenced Satanic temple, Norquist, wearing black ceremonial robes and standing before a
candlelit altar, reads from an old book in ancient Greek. He finishes, sets the book down and
moves to a cabinet, removing a vial of dark liquid. he takes off his robes and takes the vial
upstairs to his study, calling for his valet. The valet, an ominous and powerful oriental with a
small moustache, arrives. Norquist shows him the vial, saying, "Do you know what this is,
Harold?" The valet shakes his head. "This," says Norquist, "is nothing less than the key to
Phibes' destruction: the only thing he fears. Bring me my new toy." Harold moves to a shelf and
brings an ebony box to his employer. "You should've seen me at the police station," says
Norquist, taking the box. "They were convinced I knew nothing about Phibes. They certainly
know nothing of my true motives for wanting the ivory figures."
He opens the case (containing an odd-looking gun and accessories), and removes a brass
projectile with a small needle in its tip. "With this little weapon," says Norquist, "I'll be able to get
the one thing I need from Phibes."
Norquist unscrews the end of the small brass cylinder and pours some of the liquid from the vial
into it, then reseals the cylinder. He then removes the gun from its ebony case and slides the
cartridge into it.
"Now," he says, "Phibes will be ready and so will I. I look forward to meeting him, Harold. He's
one of the greats."
Cut to the interior of a mansion in Hyde Park. It is night. We see Adria, a beautiful, newly wealthy
young black woman, former wife of a multi-millionaire Arab oil baron named Abdul Azzared.
She's talking on the phone to her lover, Alphonse. We learn that she recently poisoned her
husband for insurance money, not to mention his oil fields. She plans to travel with Alphonse to
Paris, and Rome, and Tokyo, and...
As she speaks of her plans in a slight Jamaican accent, she absently caresses her ivory statue of
Arachne (a spider). She says that soon the entire world will know the name of Adria Azzared.
After she hangs up, she picks up a framed photo of her late husband, a sinister-looking but
handsome man, and kisses it, saying, "You may have been a bastard while you were alive,
Abdul, but now that you're gone I love you more and more every day."
She slips into a silk nightgown and goes into the bedroom. She finds a huge, shiny black spider
the size of a dog crouching on the bedspread.
After a moment, she realizes it is a statue of some kind. She checks around the room, in her
closet, etc., even looking up at the skylight. Seeing nothing, she decides to call the police. She
goes to the phone, but realizes it is dead. In fact, the cord has been cut.
She runs to the door, only to find it locked from the outside. She pounds and screams, but to no
avail.
Phibes having tied the door handle to the handle of another door beside it, waits. He then taps
three times on the ceiling with a skull-headed walking stick resembling his own face, minus wig
and mask. Vulnavia, outside on the roof looking down through the skylight, activates an
elaborate, radio-controlled device.
A whirring electrical hum sounds within the spider statue. It springs to life, stalking Adria around
the room. She hurls objects at it, but they bounce off its iron exterior. we see Vulnavia at the
controls again, directing its movements.
Then the spider lurches at Adria, hurling from its body a net which pulls tight about her, making
her fall. Vulnavia opens the skylight and lowers into the glass case of spiders glimpsed earlier.
Once it's on the floor, she pulls a second rope attached to a side panel, releasing the hundred
spiders. Vulnavia then plays a violin as she awaits the inevitable.
The hideous little things find their way to Adria and swarm over her. As she screams her last, we
cut to her wax counterpart falling into its bath, after which her statue is added to the other two.
With characteristic irony, Phibes turns to Victoria and intones, "Oh, what a tangled web we
weave, when first we practice to deceive."
The usual scene of discovery by Trout and Waverly follows. They are dumbfounded, as always,
by Phibes' audacity.
"A black widow in the middle of Hyde Park!" exclaims Trout. "Another first for Phibes."
"Well," says Waverly, pointing to the body, "I'd say her husband's death had something to do
with that."
"I'm going to ignore that statement," says Trout.
"What statement, Perch? I mean, Trout. You know, sometimes, I don't understand you."
'Never mind, sir," says Trout. "It wasn't important. The important thing is locating the other three
owners before Phibes does. We've gotten absolutely no response from the warnings we placed
in the papers. All we know is that each killing so far has related in some way to the ivory statue
which the victim possessed. That leaves...let me see now, not counting Norquist and his
minotaur...a man with wings, a wooden horse, and a three-headed dog. Take your pick. Now
what thing, other than owning one of the statuettes, have all of the victims, or potential victims in
Professor Norquist's case, had in common? Only one thing-money. All of them very wealthy
indeed. Beyond that, nothing really. And none of the victims seem to have known each other,
except, of course, for the limited contact each had with Dekker. We've contact almost every art
collector in the city by now, we've taken out space in every newspaper warning the remaining
people, whoever the hell they are, that their lives may be in danger, and we've checked with
every auction house. And we still haven't a bloody clue! Phibes really has outdone himself this
time. But what I can't understand is why the other three owners, having seen the papers by now,
haven't contacted Scotland Yard?"
We cut immediately to the dark, wood-paneled study of Tony "Noodles" Romano-a tough-
looking, squarely-built man in his mid-fifties. He is smoking a cigar and talking loudly to an
assistant. It is obvious from the start that he is American and dangerous; a man who has lived
his life outside the law and whose bank account has profited enormously from it. We also can
see from the photos and objects that he obviously owns race horses.
"Listen, George," he says to a mild-looking assistant, "you gotta be nuts if you think I'm gonna
call up the damn limey police because of some newspaper ad. What with my background they'd
have me framed for those other murders in two seconds flat! Use your head for somethin'
besides keepin' your ears apart! And those other clowns Dekker sold the statues to would have to
be crazy to go to the cops, too. But at least I didn't have to pay for the one I got. No sir, one of
the nice things about a business like mine-you collect on a lot of debts...Now if you don't mind,
I've got a little business matter to attend to before I take old Trojan out. I'll see you in 20 minutes
on the track. Be there."
"OK, Noodles," says George. "I was only thinkin' o' your safety, y'know."
"That touches me, George, really, but do I look like a man who needs protection?" With that, he
is out the door, trailing cigar smoke behind.
He heads for his private stables, but stops as two more assistants escort a frightened-looking
little Englishman over to meet him.
Romano beams at him and grasps his hand in a bone-crushing grip. We see in close-up that the
English is missing part of a finger.
"Well," says Romano, grinning, "so you made the mistake of betting against my hose? Not wise,
my friend; you also neglected to pay back your little debt. That was your second mistake. Surely
you remember what happened the last time you failed to come through?"
The Englishman is now shaking and sweating.
"Please, Mr. Romano," he says, "if you could just give me one more day..."
"Call me Tony," says Romano, "and that's what you told me the last time. I'm afraid you still
haven't learned." He motions to one of his assistants. "Take him away."
As the man is hauled off whimpering, Romano whispers to his assistant, "Take off two fingers
this time."
Romano moves to his stable and in particular, the stall of his favorite horse, Trojan.
In place of his pride and joy he seems a vision from a dream-the lovely Vulnavia standing beside
a wooden replica of a horse. A bright red ribbon wraps around its middle. The horse is quite
large, with an oversized head and a wide, gaping mouth with square steel teeth.
Romano is more interested in Vulnavia.
"What the hell is this?" he asks, "some kind of a joke?" Vulnavia moves to him, puts her arms
over his shoulders and around his neck, and kissing him softly.
"Hey," he says, "I'll bet 'Eggs' put you up to this, didn't he? Benedict is one hell of a crazy guy?"
Vulnavia removes a card attached to a ribbon and hands it to Romano.
It says, "For the man who likes to look a gift horse in the mouth."
"that's Benedict, all right!" crows Romano. "Just like the son of a bitch! Well, he owes me a few,
so this I gotta see!" With that, he sticks his head into the mouth.
At this moment, Phibes appears on the opposite side of the stall behind the half-door. Grabbing
the horse's raised wooden tail, he slams it down, causing the horse's steel jaws to clang shut. Romano's decapitated body falls to the sawdust on the floor.
Phibes opens the stall door and rocks the horse from side to side. An object thuds loosely about the belly and Phibes smiles. Offering his arm to Vulnavia, he walks out of the stable, stepping over the corpse on the way as if this was just a normal day. As they leave, they pass a wooden
sign reading "Sleepy Hollow Ranch." We cut to:
A walnut being crushed in the mouth of a nutcracker, then taken out and given to Victoria by Phibes. As she munches on the nut, Phibes reads:
Helen, thy beauty is to me
Like those Nicaean barks of yore,
That gently, o'er a perfumed sea,
The weary, way-worn wanderer bore
To his own native shore.
On desperate seas long wont to roam,
Thy hyacinth hair, thy classic face,
Thy naiad airs have brought me home
To the glory that was Greece,
And the grandeur that was Rome
next part:
cut to a close-up of Phibes' shears advancing toward Romano's effigy, only to snip off the body at the neck, rather than cutting the thread. The tiny skeleton bobs headless to the surface.
"Oh, Anton," says Victoria, "couldn't we just skip the others and leave this dreary country?" She puffs on a cigarette in a long holder and exhales languidly.
"Soon," says Phibes, "quite soon, my love, my queen, my noble wife, but though we have eternal life, 'tis not enough. We must ascend to great heights than even we have know, or end in dark without a light, so lost, and so alone. And so patience, Victoria, for very soon we shall yet sail for our enchanted isle. But three remain, preventing all delivery from our pain. Three more pieces,
three more lives, then we shall take our rightful places. But not if one of them survives."
We cut to the home of multi-millionaire munitions manufacturer Maximillian Thundershaft, a portly German with a bristling red crew cut and a florid complexion.
His walls are covered with antique and modern weapons, pistols, rifles, swords, maces, shields, et cetera. He is pacing up and down his living room and blustering to his quiet, timid-looking wife.
"Thundershaft Industries is not doing well this year, you know. And so, my dear, as long as defense spending continues to be reduced I have no choice but to lay off more employees and wait for a change, do I? No. What I need is a good war. That would set Maximillian Thundershaft on top again where he belongs. Do you realize that only fifteen years ago Thundershaft Industries sold more guns, more ammunition, more cannons, and more grenades than any other company in all of England?! And now look at it! It's a corporation without a purpose!"
His tirade is cut off by the barking of three Dobermans in his backyard. We see them briefly, baring their teeth. All at once, the barking stops, ending in a few yelps. Then ominous silence.
"You wait here!" says Thundershaft to his wife. "I go see!" Grabbing a handgun from the wall and loading it from a belt beneath his coat, he runs to a door and heads for the yard.
Outside in the moonlight we see a pair of tall white patent leather boots standing beside the recumbent forms of the dogs. Thundershaft, gun outstretched, runs across to them.
"What the hell are you doing?" he bellows, "who let you in here?" Vulnavia, elegantly dressed in white fur, smiles demurely.
"I demand to know who you are!" he shouts. He then spots his beloved dogs, out of commission on the grass. He stares in disbelief.
"My babies!" he shrieks, "My God, my babies! You've killed them! Well, now I kill you!" He empties the gun at Vulnavia, who simply brushes an errant strand of hair from her face and steps casually toward the finally speechless Thundershaft. He stares and she takes his pistol, tosses it aside and kisses his cheek. Motioning to the garden's edge, she directs his attention to Phibes, who emerges from the hedges, wearing an elaborate black fur outfit. He holds a leash in his hand attached to a vicious-looking three-headed hound, obviously Cerberus, guardian of the gates of Hades.
The hound does not walk, but rather rolls along on an automated platform with wheels toward Thundershaft. Vulnavia seductively draws a long white fur stole across his throat.
When Phibes comes within a few feet, he stops, halting his pet, which stands poised in front of Thundershaft. Phibes flips a switch on the platform, then he and Vulnavia stand aside.
The six red eyes of the dog light up. The jaws of the middle head open slowly to reveal a pointed red tongue. Suddenly the tongue leaps out of the mouth at great speed to whip around Thundershaft's legs, holding them fast together.
Phibes then removes his speaker cord from the pocket of his coat, plugging one end into his neck and the other into a portable console attached to Cerberus' rolling base. His electronic voice then melodramatically intones, "Cry Havoc! and let slip the dogs of war."
At this, the second mouth of the dog opens, spitting a long stream of liquid at Thundershaft, partially covering him.
"Oh my God!" he says, smelling the liquid, "not gasoline! No! What are you doing? You're going to burn in hell for this!"
"Guess again," says Phibes, as the third mouth drops open and a thin tongue of flame streaks out, igniting Thundershaft.
We cut to Thundershaft's meek wife sitting on the living room sofa, now looking noticeably uneasy as she sees a tall pillar of flame out in the garden.
A black-gloved hand comes into view and silently picks up the ivory figure of Cerberus sitting on the glass coffee table in front of her.
She sees Phibes, who takes her hand, kisses it in his most continental fashion, and smiling silently, leaves her sitting in complete bewilderment.
We cut to early that morning. We see Trout and his men standing over the still-smoking remains
of Thundershaft's corpse, looking utterly defeated. As Waverly joins him he shakes his head,
saying, "I don't know what can be said at this point, sir. We found a revolver by the body which
had been recently fired by the deceased and yet nowhere is there any sign of blood. And it's
quite obvious he wasn't shooting at this damnable three-headed death machine. There's not a
scratch on it. I mean, I don't know what more we can do. A man who, by all rights, is supposed to
be dead is stalking London accompanied by a woman whose acid-scarred corpse disappeared
from our pathology lab only to reappear three years later in Egypt and then disappear under our
noses again. And now she's back once more not only with her dead half-synthetic employer but
with a woman matching identically the photographs of his dead wife. And together they are
enforcing seven more bloody ancient curses without anyone so much as saying boo to them!
Now what would you do, sir, if you were in my position?"
"Quit," says Waverly succinctly.
"Right," says Trout, handing over his badge and walking off.
Waverly, left standing with the remainder of a case in his hands, looks about awkwardly and then
says to the remaining police officers, "Well, don't just stand there—do something! And never
forget-a real Englishman never gives up, you know. We've got to keep the home fires burning!"
At this, all three officers hand in their badges and walk off, leaving Waverly alone.
"Well, I suppose it's back to the drawing board," says Waverly.
We cut to a close-up of a diagram being drafted of a man with a hang glider. Next to it is a
similar drawing of Leonardo's showing a man with a mechanical-winged flying device. Pulling
back, we see the artist is none other than Phibes, who, taking a break from his work,
flamboyantly inserts the end of a long cigarette holder into the aperture at the back of his neck.
We see the tip of the cigarette light up briefly and then smoke escapes from his nostrils.
Coughing, he hands the cigarette holder back to its owner, Victoria, and shakes his head.
"A nasty habit, my dear," he says. We cut to a shot of the fifth wax doll falling to its demise in the
acid below.
We are then blinded by sunshine and find we are out at sea. A small sailboat is rocking to and
fro in the waves and in it sit Phibes and Vulnavia. She looks at something through a spyglass as
Phibes mans the rudder, steering in a large, lazy circle. Vulnavia, seeing something, hands
Phibes the glass and points to a spot on the top of some nearby cliffs. From his point of view we
see a man, a young woman, and a parked car. The man fiddles with something like a large kite.
Phibes smiles at Vulnavia and returns the glass.
Cutting to the young man and woman, we see that the contraption is a hang glider, although only
a crude approximation of the kind we have today. The young woman, apparently his fiancée, is
trying to persuade him not to be so foolish. "Please, Hamilton," she says, "For me—don't do
this."
"But Mary, darling," he says, "I've done this a number of times, and nothing's happened yet."
"There's always a first time," she replies. "You know, someday I hope to be Mrs. Hamilton
Sedgwick."
"Ah," he says, only half-joking, "I've heard it before. What you really want are my millions—isn't
that it?"
"Well, you are one of the richest and most eligible bachelors in the world. A girl would be foolish
not to be a bit interested right from the start.
"Yes," he says, "as you were, as they all were. Oh, for a bit of peace. Why can't a fellow in my
position simply have fun and enjoy life without all manner of niggling responsibilities, and
charities popping up for handouts, and women trying to get their claws into him?"
"Oh," she says, furious now, "Well, I like that. You know, I hope you do go flying and I hope you
fall and break your bloody back!"
"Charming," he says, then, moving the cliff's edge, "Ta-ta...try not to miss me too much. I'll send
a postcard if I think of it." With that, he leaps off the edge of the cliff into the blue.
Phibes, watching him like a hawk from the boat, follows him with the telescope. Suddenly
Sedgwick is in trouble. Grappling with the control mechanisms of the glider, he begins to panic
as bits and pieces of the huge kite begin to come apart as though put together with softening wax
which is now coming unstuck. Desperately Sedgwick grabs the handlebars of the glider tightly
and wrenches them to one side. Suddenly they begin to distort, stretching ludicrously like a string
of chewing gum.
The cloth wings of the glider begin to shred in thin jagged tears like tissue paper. Before
Sedgwick can understand what's happening, the kite folds up on itself like an umbrella blown
inside out. With a scream Sedgwick falls straight to his death in the sea hundreds of feet below,
his body creating a huge splash not far from Phibes and Vulnavia. Phibes is sprayed with a few
drops of water, which he casually wipes away with a silk handkerchief.
We then see a horror-stricken close-up of Sedgwick's fiancée.
We cut to the bedroom of Sedgwick's house. On the night table by the bed sits the statue of
Icarus, and beside it a book, a biography of the Wright Brothers. Phibes' familiar gloved hand
comes into view, holding a pen. Opening the cover of the book, he writes on the liner page, "If
man had been meant to fly, the gods would have given him wings." Signing, "Sincerely, Dr.
Anton Phibes," he picks up the statue, and we cut to:
Sedgwick's effigy plummeting to its death in a sea of acid as the golden shears ship the next to
last thread.
Cut to Waverly's office at Scotland Yard. Before him, on the desk, is the book Phibes inscribed.
Waverly is talking to Sedgwick's distraught fiancée. "And that's all you saw?" he asks.
"Just Hamilton falling and then a splash, yes," she says tearfully.
"And nothing else?"
"Well, no...nothing besides the sailboat."
"What sailboat?" Waverly asks.
"Oh, just a sailboat," she replies, "with two people in it. It looked like a man and a woman."
"Right. And I think I know what man and woman. None other than your husband's murderers."
"Fiancé's."
"Pardon?"
"Hamilton wasn't my husband. We were engaged. And why do you think he was killed?"
Waverly hands her the Wright Brothers biography, opening it to the liner page and Phibes'
inscription. When she has read it, Waverly takes it back, saying "Well, you can't say he doesn't
have a sense of humor, eh what?"
As the fiancée stares in disbelief at this statement, the office door opens and Trout enters,
excusing himself to the lady and addressing his superior. "Sir," he says, "I had a change of heart.
I just couldn't bear to leave this with you. I mean—I wouldn't want you to have to handle this all
by yourself."
Waverly, miffed, but forced to keep up appearances, says, "Thank you, Blowfish—I mean, Trout.
Very considerate."
"Well, to be honest, it's a bit more than that, sir," says Trout. "You see, I've done a bit of work on
my own. I took the liberty of checking all recent reservations on cruises out of London, and two
names showed up on the same list—Grayson Norquist and a Mrs. Victoria Regina Smith."
"Trout," says Waverly, "I appreciate your efforts, but Grayson Norquist is free to go anywhere he
chooses, and as for the lady, the name means nothing."
"Sir," says Trout, "Phibes' wife is named Victoria Regina as well."
"So?"
"Her maiden name was Smith."
"Is that all? Smith is a common enough name, certainly?"
"Victoria Regina Smith?" says Trout. "And she requested an organ for her stateroom."
"Well, I do see your point, Cod." But I think I'd like to take my time and handle this my own way,"
says Waverly, striving to maintain his superiority.
"With respect, sir," says Trout, "the ship does depart in (he checks his watch)—exactly fifteen
minutes."
"Right!" says Waverly, leaping from his chair and grabbing his coat. He rushes from the room,
followed by Trout, who quickly apologizes to the surprised fiancée.
Cutting to the seaport in question, we see Waverly's car come screeching to a stop. Both
Waverly and Trout emerge and run toward the water's edge—only to see Norquist and Phibes'
boat sailing off under clouds of smoke with blasts of its horns.
"Damn!" says Trout. "They never leave on time until you don't want them to. I'm afraid we'll have
to book the next ship."
"Don't be silly, Trout," says Waverly, "come on!"
Waverly runs to a private yacht, which he quickly boards, followed by the loudly protesting Trout.
Moving to the yacht's helm, Waverly removes his gun and badge, stating to the boat's
astonished owner that he is from Scotland Yard. He then points to the receding ocean liner and
orders the poor man to "Follow that ship!"
We show two contrasting scenes, first of Norquist sitting in his stateroom scribbling something on
a card, then that card being delivered to Victoria in the Phibes stateroom. She hands it to her
husband.
Opening the envelope, Phibes reads the card aloud. It says: "I have the means to help or harm
you. You have the means to help or harm me. We either compromise or both fail. Until we meet.
Respectfully, Grayson Norquist." Phibes sets down the card. He looks at his wife, troubled.
"What do you think he wants, Anton?" asks Victoria.
"We shall see, my dear. He knows of our needs, and surely must be prepared to reciprocate if
we should meet his. But at what cost to each? The answer will come soon enough."
As we cut back to Trout and Waverly, it should be noted that Vulnavia was nowhere to be seen
in Phibes' stateroom. Trout sits in the deck chair, looking slightly seasick. Waverly is standing at
the yacht's rail, looking dreamily out to sea. "Trout," he says wistfully, "did you ever stop to think
what might have been accomplished if Phibes had turned his genius to the betterment of
mankind rather than against it?"
"I'd rather not, sir, if its all the same to you," says Trout, closing his eyes and reclining far back in
his chair.
"Well," says Waverly, "at least Britannia rules the waves. Oh yes, and where exactly are we
going, Trout?"
"The Greek isles, sir. Crete, to be specific."
"Ah," says Waverly, "Travel! Well, Trout, even though we are British, thank God, we should keep
in mind a variation on the old maxim for tourists. In other words, 'When in Crete do as the
Cretans do!'"
"That shouldn't be too difficult for you, sir," says Trout, as we cut to:
A map showing the route from London to Greece, animated red lines showing the identical
courses of the two vessels as they near their destination.
Then we cut to Phibes' limousine being driven off the arrival port on Crete and Norquist climbing
into a cab and following closely after.
And just a few moments later we spot Trout and Waverly running as fast as they can toward a
second taxi which they leap into shouting instructions at the confused driver and pointing. Soon
the driver gets the right idea and takes off in the direction of Phibes' and Norquist's vehicles.
We then have a brief chase to Phibes' mountain temple as first Phibes' limousine heads straight
for a wall of solid rock in the mountain, when a stone door opens inward to admit the entire car.
When Norquist arrives seconds later hr runs from the cab, the driver screaming after him, and
disappears on foot into the dark of the secret entrance. The stone door slides into place behind
him.
Just then Trout and Waverly show up, furious and exasperated, and search for another means of
entrance.
Once inside, we find Norquist in some sort of maze or, more appropriately, labyrinth of stone lit
at intervals by torches. Norquist, suspicious of this at once, removes his special gun from its
holster concealed beneath his jacket and proceeds with caution through the many twists and
turns.
At several points, Norquist narrowly avoids being trapped by spring-triggered cages of steel,
suddenly opening pits and trap-doors, chain nets and so on, but always he manages to escape
them, being quite careful not to lose his pistol.
He finally reaches the end of this ordeal when he finds himself at the end of a long narrow
corridor of stone and sees he can do nothing more at this point save to turn back.
It is at this moment that a hidden door slides up in the wall to Norquist's right (as he faces the
corridor with his back to the dead end) to reveal the figure of Phibes now dressed exactly as we
saw him in the opening flashback sequences of the film in full Grecian costume.
He is plugged into a wall speaker and his 'voice' echoes, reverberating through the labyrinth as
he addresses Norquist.
"So," he says, "we meet at last. I am most honored to have such a worthy opponent."
"And I might say the same of you, Dr. Phibes," says Norquist, "but I'm afraid there's little place
for pleasantries now." And he raises his pistol, leveling it at Phibes' chest, saying, "I said I could
hurt you, if you recall."
Phibes, unperturbed by the sight of a gun, merely says, as though to a student, "But you cannot
end a life that has no end."
"Oh, but that's where you're wrong, Phibes," says Norquist, still leveling the gun, "most men would not be able to end an immortal life, but I am not most men...No. Water gave you eternal life and only water can end it for all eternity. And I am prepared to do that, for I have within a very special bullet, a previous liquid. For fighting fire with fire, so to speak. Yes, while you were discovering the River of Life, I was making a parallel discovery of my own, a discovery I lost forever when it was buried b a volcanic disturbance, the River of Death...of Hell itself...Yes,
Phibes, the River Styx. And its waters are black and its banks lined with black onyx and both the waters and the stones that it touches are dark with power. Power equal to yours. I am a disciple of that power, as you are disciple of yours. And I am prepared to use that power now."
At this point, for the first time in any of the films, we see true fear in Phibes' blazing eyes. He realizes he has finally met his match. Maybe more than his match.
Norquist aims the gun carefully and tightens his finger on the trigger. Phibes doesn't move, but merely stands frozen with terror at the sudden possibility of oblivion.
"We are really not so very different, you and I," says Norquist, merely opposite sides of a single coin. There is, I happen to believe, a little of hell in heaven and a little heaven in hell. Yin and yang. Dark and light. The eternal balance. My preference, my destiny, happens to fall in the darkness rather than in the light.
Final Part:
That is the only difference...too bad really. We might have been
great friends...but now...I must have what I came to find. The black necklace of Hades, god of the underworld...the one you wear to protect yourself from evil. Phibes...I must have it."
For a moment these two obsessed and brilliant men stand in silence, motionless and staring at each other. Then, very slowly, Phibes reaches up and removes the necklace (which we saw clearly in the opening sequence), handing it to Norquist, who puts it around his own neck using one hand, never taking the fun off Phibes.
"Thank you," says Norquist, "for fulfilling your part in the plan. Besides, where you're going you'll have no need of this." He fondles the necklace briefly and then, after another moment of tension as he continues to aim the gun, he suddenly tosses it aside. Then, removing a penknife from his
pocket, he uses it to slash open his right pant leg which he then tears off, exposing a prosthetic limb. Phibes reacts to this as, bending over, Norquist opens a hidden compartment in the artificial leg and removes from it the seventh of Phibes' enchanted ivory figures—the Minotaur.
Handing it to Phibes, Norquist says, "You'll have far more use for this than I." Phibes, obviously grateful, says, "I thank you, my friend. You are indeed extraordinary; the only one I have encountered capable of comprehending my great plan. I salute you."
Norquist nods and with this lays bare his chest, exposing a large tattoo of Grecian design with various occult signs and letters. Hen then produces the vial of precious dark water from the River Styx and, opening it, dabs several dots of water with his finger on specific points of the tattoo. Then, this done, he swallows the remaining liquid with a grimace and smashes the bottle against the stone floor.
"Now, Phibes," says Norquist, "I would ask one final favor of you, then nothing more."
"Anything," says Phibes.
"Send me on my way...please give me the gift of death. Now, Phibes. From a master of death."
Nodding in understanding, Phibes throws a switch in the stone causing the far end of the corridor to slope upwards, and revealing a large golden statue of the Minotaur, its bull's head bent forward, the long sharp horns like twin daggers thrust before it. As Norquist sees this, he smiles radiantly and music swells and he throws out his arms to the sides in a gesture of welcome and
acceptance.
"It is better to reign in hell than to serve in heaven," he quotes, as he closes his eyes, waiting.
"Good luck, my friend," says Phibes, "on your journey."
Phibes throws the witch into a second position, releasing the huge golden creature, which glides down the gradually slanting corridor, picking up speed, and smashes into the body of Norquist, impaling him on its horns and pinning him to the wall. Phibes, statue in hand, disappears behind the sliding wall of stone, and we cut to:
The exterior of the mountain. Trout and Waverly are desperately circling the perimeter, searching for some *beep* in the armor, so to speak. All at once there is a clap of thunder, and dark, heavy thunderclouds begin to roll in across the wind-whipped sky. Trout and Waverly look up, frowning.
"Not a good sign, sir," says Trout.
We cut back to Phibes in his art-deco temple featured in the prologue. We seen him cut the last of the seven threads of fate, but this time only to free the wax image. Instead of consigning it to the usual fate, he place it within the box formerly containing the seven ivory figures, and closes it like a miniature coffin. This done, he moves to an altar lit with many candles and kneels before the seven interlocked statues. Turning them on their side, he exposes their round base. This base is a carved symbol of the staff of Hermes, surrounded by Greek words and characters. It is not at all unlike a slightly different version of Norquist's tattoo. Phibes then removes his "face" and wig, exposing his true, skull-like, battered visage, and plugging himself into the Victrola, begins an electronic prayer to the gods:
Oh, through the staff of Hermes,
Oh, your messenger so swift
Both god of winds and wealth
We send our prayer and precious gifts.
Oh, Zeus, please heed our call,
Accept these bribes.
Your humble servant,
Dr. Anton Phibes.
As these words are concluded, the candles flick suddenly and we hear a loud rumbling of
thunder. Phibes takes Victoria's hand.
"Come, my queen, my wife, the time has come. The moon in conjunction with the eternal planets
has pointed the way by which we may ascend to great Olympus and drink ambrosia there beside
the gods, to live forever in our appointed place. But first I go below to hide my face beneath the
mask again, as I may seem to live once more. And then please join me there, my love, to start
our journey home."
His mask and wig in hand, Phibes unplugs himself and descends a flight of steps into a lower
chamber.
Once there, he sits at his makeup table, looking at his shattered, grotesque reflection.
While outside we see Trout and Waverly run behind an outcropping of rock to hide from the
terrible force of the wind.
We go inside and follow the figure of Victoria down the flight of steps to Phibes' makeup room.
She seems Phibes' familiar back, the wig obviously back in place.
As she approaches, she sees the wig still on the makeup table, as are the mask and other
pieces. Confused, she moves to her husband and places a delicate hand on his shoulder. And at
this he turns around to look at her and we see to our surprise, as well as to Victoria's, that his
appearance is exactly as it was in life—as it was in the prologue—that of a healthy and normally
complexioned man.
Phibes' eyes glisten with tears as he looks up at his wife, Vulnavia's theme swelling in the
background. Victoria's own eyes begin to fill with tears at seeing her husband whole again.
Phibes lifts up his coil of speaking cord, and, tossing it on the table alongside his wig and mask,
stands, and then speaks for the first time, naturally and with his own voice, his lips forming each
word perfectly.
"Our prayer was hard, my love," he says, "I'm back again." And as Phibes gestures toward a
duplicate of his glowing organ within a stone alcove, its pink-orange light begins to glow brighter
as slowly, a figure begins to materialize beside it. In a moment we see that it is that of Vulnavia,
but not the Vulnavia we are used to seeing.
She is dressed in Grecian style and in full battle armor, complete with helmet, sword and shield.
"Vulnavia," says Phibes, "at last in your one true form. Athena, goddess of wisdom, skills and
war, come down through storm and wind to lift us to the height, past cloud and rain and into
starry night. I thank you for all that you have done, my dear, in helping us to join you, finally,
here."
And then, most startlingly of all, Vulnavia, now Athena, speaks! Her voice is lovely and musical
as she holds out her arms to Phibes and Victoria.
"Come, Children of Zeus. You do not belong here in this age. This time has no place for you.
You are of a different race now, and must take leave of moral worlds to find your home among
the sky and stars. Come with me, now, it is time."
Phibes and Victoria go to her, and she briefly embraces them. Positioning Victoria on one side of
the organ seat and herself on the other, Vulnavia motions Phibes to sit and play. As he does, the
organ rises upward slowly, disappearing into a shaft above the alcove. Outside, the storm has
abated somewhat. Twilight is deepening. Shafts of blue light pierce the billowing clouds at
various points. Trout and Waverly have emerged from their shelter and back up to get a look at
the mountain. Suddenly they see something that astonishes them. Arched above the mountain in
the darkening sky and among the gray storm clouds is a perfect rainbow.
"A rainbow!" says Waverly, pointing.
"At night!" says Trout.
"Impossible!" says Waverly.
"Nothing's impossible with Phibes," says Trout.
We see a door open in the top of the mountain, from which Phibes' organ, carrying himself,
Victoria and Athena, emerges. It gains speed like a bird taking easy flight, and does not stop
upon reaching the mountaintop, but rises into the starry night sky. Trout and Waverly see this
and begin to wave and gesticulate. Realizing the futility of it, they simply stare in wonder as the
beautifully glowing organ rises to the crest of the rainbow. We see a God's-eye-view shot looking
down at the organ rising toward us. The ground, the mountain and the island recede behind it.
We see, from Trout and Waverly's perspective, the organ simply fading away into the twilight.
Only the rainbow remains.
Waverly abruptly declares, "It's all some kind of trick! Things like that can't happen! Strike me
dead if it's not a hoax!"
Suddenly a thunderbolt strikes from the sky, vaporizing Waverly instantly, in a brilliant flash,
leaving Trout gaping.
We hear, loud and echoing, the familiar laugh of Dr. Phibes.
We cut to the night rainbow above the mountain, as the strains of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow"
fill the soundtrack.
The credits begin to roll. It is:
THE END
"The music is the magic carpet that other things take naps on"- Tori Amos
[deleted]
That was very cool. Thank you.
shareMerci beaucoup! And why didn't this movie happen?
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