Louis and Claudia, the Théâtre des Vampires.
What about the others out there?
Giddy to increase their numbers.
The great conversion.
What you're about to see
is for you, an outrage.
You were amazing.
- Who's your maker? - His name was Bruce.
We don't talk about him much.
Who's that handsome man on the wall up there?
Our co-founder, Lestat de Lioncourt.
That means you knew Lestat before he did.
Yes, Armand knew Lestat.
You both fucked Lestat.
What if they find out we killed him?
- I want to go back. - It's not safe there.
I do believe I felt some trepidation
when the name Lestat was uttered.
- Who? - We could simply
return to the interview.
If you're willing to ask your questions and then listen,
which is your job.
What happened next?
www.subtitulamos.tv
Here we go.
_
Partial to the non-wriggling items. I should've said that.
The perils of Omakase.
We cede power to the chef, submit to his whims,
to his eye at the fish market. A series of risks.
- Right. - 'Under the Burning Sky.'
The one about Enron, 'Black Blood' was it?
You're Daniel Molloy. I've read your books.
A reader. Well, prepare yourself for disappointment.
I see they've separated you from your laptop.
They?
Off your game a touch yesterday.
Perhaps they believe you've been humbled.
Clever on their own, now there's two of them.
Of course, there was always two of them.
You just came to that late.
Going to stop looking at you now.
A little pale for Mossad.
Although that could be very Mossad.
I wish. I'd be better funded. No, no, no.
I work for another watchful shop,
the name of which has not come up
in your conversations with them.
A stake in the story I'm writing.
You have me bugged,
or you want me to think you do.
We were tracking 900 of them a month ago.
We're tracking 1,600 now.
The Great Conversion.
It's real. It's happening.
Well, then you have a more immediate problem
than a book being researched. Got a name?
You're not the first to attempt this, Mr. Molloy.
I could give you the names of four others who have
and they're all dead, or undead.
The name is Raglan James.
Got a real name?
Files have been placed,
with proper encryption,
on your comically vulnerable laptop.
Most are primary sources that your infamous friends...
Anyone here a fan of intelligence officers?
We got a live one.
Gochisousama, Taisho-san.
_
How was your walkabout, Mr. Molloy?
Michelin fish in the desert.
I burned my entire per diem.
How many people in the world know what you know, Rashid?
How many Rashids, Rashid?
I suspect just enough
to help them stay hidden.
- _ - No, that's how billionaire
vampires do it.
How does your average Jo Mo vampire
keep people like you in line? Unspoken threats?
The threat is always there.
He could kill us both now.
But he doesn't.
They are peaceful beings.
They drain and disappear us.
They have a biological imperative
that is in conflict with human morality.
But what is that morality other than rules agreed upon?
Thank you, Rashid.
A romantic answer to your question.
The average vampire has minimal contact with humanity.
When exposed, they feed
- _ - or run or kill themselves.
And I'd say we're multi-millionaires.
Not quite a billion.
It was wrong of Louis to enter your memories yesterday.
You were invited here as a guest.
- Cell phones. - You were rude,
but he crossed a line.
Artificial intelligence crunching improbable data.
- I offer my apology on his behalf. - How do you hide from the cloud?
We should probably wait for him.
Probably.
He'll awaken when the sun sleeps.
Your cell phones make you slaves to your fetishes
and data retrieval is primarily about profits,
so I suspect no one at Amazon
is trying to sell us blenders.
You kill.
- Nightly. - And sometimes you've watched
that kill on the local news.
You've never been easier to distract.
You're at the height of wilful ignorance.
We exploit it. This is, was...
Lestat's prophetic vision.
- Lestat de Lioncourt? - Yes.
We were shadows crouching behind stone
prior to his transformation.
I'm listening.
That's my job, right?
It was 1556
when the Roman coven sent me
to lead the shambolic Paris coven.
A face from the subcontinent,
French my fourth and poorest language,
I had never led anything in my life.
We called ourselves the Children of Darkness.
We lived in squalor, hunted in shame,
all in strict obedience to medieval laws
put in place to protect us from humanity.
And though I managed to maintain
a discipline and humility
for 239 years as Satan's fool,
by the time Robespierre was beheaded,
I was, by any measure, failing.
_
Our ways were finished.
We were embers on a waning pyre.
Lestat was the wind to scatter.
I really gotta meet with this guy.
I felt his presence before I saw him.
Sired by one of my deserters, Magnus,
this was something new,
something I hadn't felt before.
The fourth of our Great Laws was writ:
"No vampire shall ever reveal
"his true nature to a mortal
and let that mortal live."
And here he was,
prancing and preening
in front of 500 mortals a night,
like some patronized, tarted up dervish.
Vous êtes donc de famme.
To hear Louis tell it...
Lestat becoming a vampire was a horror show.
That may be.
But he made a remarkable recovery shortly thereafter.
How else could you explain
his hand feeding the audience?
How words came out like canaries,
summer fruit in the dead of winter.
They were all in love with him.
He had that effect on everyone.
- He... - Was a natural?
Entirely un-natural.
Using the Dark Gift for what?
His vanity? It was heresy.
I had to bring him under my control by any means.
_
***
_
Encore plus honnête.
I followed him for weeks.
His rejections only inflamed me.
And the longer I allowed him to exist outside the coven,
the more unsettled my children became.
They watched in secret,
fascinated by his disregard
for the laws I told them could never be broken.
He took a mortal lover.
More heresy.
_
Partez-y.
_
Lestat?
_
I'd tolerated his presence too long already.
I had to act
or he'd destroy what little I had left.
Lestat!
_
Lestat?
Nicky!
_
Nicky!
_
You let it happen?
Yes.
You led him there, so he could destroy it.
His words had been my thoughts for half a century.
If it had come from me, they wouldn't have believed it.
_
My children left.
They roamed the streets of Paris,
wreaking havoc with mortals.
Some could not reconcile the life I had made for them
with the life Lestat had told them was possible.
They went mad,
ended themselves.
The only thing that kept me from the fire...
were the old rituals.
? Et nos trés... ?
? Satan... ?
_
***
_
Au contraire, Maitre.
***
Assouvir vos cruelles envies au théâtre des vampires.
***
- *** - ***
La mort n'en respecte pas l'âge.
_
***
_
***
- *** - _
_
Lestat.
_
That's it?
You're just going to end it there?
They went at it on the floor.
Armand taught Lestat the Mind Gift.
And a week later,
Lestat was gone.
The question was how do vampires hide from Google,
not how did Lestat break his heart.
But because you were a good listener, you got answers to both.
When he went to open the theater the next night,
he was met by the lawyer, Pierre Roget I.
Waiting for me with a trunk full of cash and instructions
to cover the theater's cost in perpetuity.
He abandoned Nicky.
He abandoned Armand. He abandoned the coven.
Lestat is, was,
and will always be, for Lestat.
Never say I love you to a raging narcissist.
And I locked away those words for another 150 years.
And then he arrived...
and shattered that lock.
This is what...
frightened me most about you.
He's in Copenhagen working at a car factory.
He hates his maker, takes the boat back to America.
He gets me on an El train to Chicago.
I said outside of Chicago. He said he didn't like big cities.
He gets me outside Chicago.
A diner on the way to Gary.
- You find me in Springfield... - Selling chestnuts
- outside the train station. - By the train station.
He kills himself in Cincinnati.
What the hell do we know about Cincinnati?
What do they know about Cincinnati?
- What's he look like? - They won't ask that.
- They will. - It's been weeks, it's enough.
I'm finally working backstage tonight, I don't wanna be late.
You're the one said he was our maker.
I need this cold for myself.
Black wavy hair...
smile crooks up to the left.
Buncha moles on his crotch and thighs.
I don't need that.
Well, he didn't keep you under floorboards for a week.
I don't know what it is that you need.
I remember what I remember.
I pry to keep us safe.
You might be having a good time now,
but there's danger if they find out we lied.
Maybe not Cincinnati. How about Shreveport?
Caddo Lake.
My daddy took me and Paul there to fish.
There's a drawbridge there. He burned on the bridge.
Shreveport, Caddo Lake, burned himself on the bridge.
Armand.
The door was ajar.
If you open up the windows and the doors,
you get a little breeze.
Cavalier.
But I'm sure you're being careful.
A-huh.
Maitre, welcome to our lair.
- Shouldn't you be in the lobby? - I got three minutes.
Did I give you consent to look me in the eye, Puce?
- No, Maitre. - My fault, I was keeping her.
Have I been late once, Maitre?
Have you been early once is the question I'd be asking myself.
How's she doing?
She's taking the abuse in stride.
I've never seen her happier.
The coven has grand designs for her.
You're drawn to portraiture.
Hides the cracks in the walls.
Show me where you go at night.
Unconscious death is the fate of all mortals.
Up.
We are conscious death,
Rolf Wangler.
And that would make you a groom.
Do you know what it means
to be loved by death?
_
No pain.
This is my favorite part.
No pain.
How does he get 'em to beg for it?
Eyes down, Puce, eyes down.
No pain.
Did you fucking sneeze at the end?
I tried to stifle it.
It's the bloody fucking moment of quietus.
It's hay season.
It's not a farm, Estelle!
It still sounded terrifying, Mr. Santiago.
I got chills.
Of course you did because I'm a...
Fucking professional!
- Puce! - Coming, sir.
You know, Clau, this is what's called the wet room.
A hateful place. You never get over the smell
and I'm glad to Garryduff it's your job now.
Keep the sacrifice in there till ten minutes to the stage.
This is the body box.
And this is the rat box.
You put your freshie...
in the body box.
You close the lid.
You take the safety off the funnel.
And, begosh and begorrah, the rats do the dirty for ya.
Now on a Tuesday,
this is the body box and that's the rat box.
On Wednesdays,
that's the body box, this is the rat box.
Back and forth, back and forth. Keep track.
These rats are smart.
They can go quiet.
You open up the wrong box,
they go running up the stairs into the green room, into the theater
and Maitre punishes the entire coven,
which does not win you friends and furain.
We had an incinerator at home.
- How'd that work? - Throw 'em in. Watch 'em burn.
Feels a bit German.
You can piddle a week before you have to empty the bones.
This door leads to the sewers, catacombs and various ossuaries
we've got hidden around the underground.
What are these?
Burial vaults.
Coven members past.
Mostly heretics and law breakers.
What are the laws?
Not till the ceremony, Puce.
They found the heart!
Rats love hearts.
I walk a new part of the city every night.
I try to get lost.
Somehow I always end up back by the river.
The waters of the Seine, contained and beautiful.
A vein winding through the heart of Paris.
There's much talk of your camera in the coven.
Is that right?
They say you're mad in love with humanity.
Thieving their private moments with light and shadow.
They pester Claudia about it.
They should ask me if they're curious.
How could they when you're so rarely present?
I saw enough theater back home for several lifetimes.
- No offense. - None taken.
Nothing worse than being dragged around unwillingly
by a companion. This was... Bruce?
Yeah, Bruce.
The opera-loving motorcyclist.
Yeah.
You should talk with Tuan Pham about cameras.
He's very learned.
- Perhaps the two of you could... - I'm not doing the coven.
Trying to save you a sales pitch.
You got Claudia, she's happy,
I'm happy.
But me...
not much of a joiner.
Yes, you have made that clear enough.
So if that's why you're here.
It's not the whole reason I'm here.
No. No.
It's most definitely not the whole reason he's here.
I like you.
I like you,
isn't that obvious?
We really must work on blocking your thoughts.
Excuse me?
Bruce.
- I sense him now in your mind. - A-huh.
Maybe I'm guarding my thoughts just fine.
Maybe I let you into my head on purpose.
Oh, that's nice, mon cher. Lovely.
Ha!
If we were the only vampires in Paris...
For a second I felt like we were.
The coven is envious of your independence.
It's a problem.
You outside looking in.
Your problem,
not mine.
You want me, I'm here.
But I'm here, here.
In the streets, cafés,
the salons, the bars, ripping hot jazz.
The whole place feels like it's born again.
Everyone's asking, "What's next, what's next?"
Not, "Where were you?" Or, "Be careful."
I had enough of that back home.
I'm out here finding myself.
Then what room is there left for me,
if you have not found yourself?
Oh, there's room.
We were circling each other.
I was putting him in a very difficult position.
I was supposed to be luring him in,
but the opposite was happening.
I started spending less time at the theater
and more nights strolling the boulevards with Louis.
The conversation was easy and flirtatious...
- And combative. - And combative, yes,
but only in the most stimulating ways.
Arguing as foreplay.
Some of my most profound feelings
and thoughts were taking shape.
When my mind was touched by Armand's,
I became deeply excited
- and driven - _
to form new conclusions about myself
and vampiric life in the abstract.
Something wrong, Daniel?
Oh, no. It's... It's the computer...
Something you were saying made me think of...
Think what?
Oh... It's...
It just flew out of my head there. It's gone.
So where's Claudia at this point?
How's she doing? What... What's she doing
at this stage of things?
How do you do it?
How do you get them to accept death?
They'll never hear you in the front row with your head down.
First thing I do
when I creak open the lid
is have a chat with my scene partner for the night.
Muck about in their heads,
find their shame.
In short, an actor prepares.
See you on stage, Claude.
Who's Francis Naughton?
The best Iago to walk the York Royal.
That was you?
And what was your shabby life in Chicago
before the vampire Bruce
bit down on your wee neck?
I was in Springfield...
selling little trinkets at the train station.
- You were an orphan? - You could say that.
And an orphan again.
We have that in common.
- I thought Maitre made you? - And why would you say that?
Estelle told me you were the youngest.
But you're also the strongest. Figured you got the best blood.
No.
My maker lies in the walls downstairs.
Maitre put him there.
Woodcutter,
three minutes.
Thank you. Three.
- Sorry. - Oh, don't be.
He deserved his death...
and his blood was exquisite.
I'm a good mimic
and I can fly.
And you kill with panache.
And your dearly departed maker,
what gifts did he bequeath the moppet vampiress?
He taught me how to lie well.
You'll make a fine actor, then.
It's Louis who's from Chicago, yes?
Just outside it.
Gary, Indiana.
Stick with it, Puce.
You're almost there.
I'm evil, evil as any vampire who ever lived.
I've killed over and over and I will do it again.
Why does that make you as evil as any vampire?
Aren't there gradations to evil?
Is evil a great perilous gulf
one falls into with the first sin?
I mean, kinda.
It's not as logical as you're saying,
but it's dark
and it's empty,
and I can't see the bottom of it.
But if evil is without gradation and it does exist,
this state of evil then,
only one sin is needed.
That's your argument.
Evil is the product of the ability of humans
to make abstract what is concrete.
Jean-Paul.
Armand.
- This is my friend, Louis. - Bonjour.
Now, will you two kindly shut up,
so I can hear the music?
Your argument assumes God exists.
I don't know that God exists.
From what I saw in the war, he doesn't.
Then surely, there are degrees and variations to goodness?
The goodness of the child which is innocence.
The goodness of the nun who lives a life
of self-deprivation and service.
The goodness of the saints, the goodness of the midwives.
And how is this evil achieved?
How does one fall from grace?
? You little whore ?
? You only want him cos you're feeling blue ?
? Come to me ?
? He'll never ?
? run his fingers through your hair ?
- ? The way I do ? - That's quite good.
? You'll fumble each other ?
Louis?
? Impotent lovers... ?
I don't... I don't know.
Maybe you're right.
There he is again.
? Come to me ?
I'm sorry.
And we were having such a nice conversation.
I was with... Bruce
- for 30 years. - "Bruce"?
How long are we going to play games, Louis?
- Lestat... - Before you say it,
let me tell you a little something
about 18th-century Armand.
- Lestat. - Oh, dear.
- Finally. - I'm tired of holding onto it.
Lestat was my companion in America.
And where is he now?
Still a bookbinder's wife?
- He knows. - You know where he is.
I want you to say it.
I killed him and he fucking had it coming.
- Well, that's debatable. - I've known for months.
I've just waited for you to say it.
And that means what?
You gotta kill me now?
What does that mean for Claudia?
- Did she help you kill him? - Yes!
- No. - You broke one of the Great Laws.
I don't know any Great Laws.
Lestat never told me shit.
- I told you I loved you. - Go away!
- Calm down. - And you said nothing.
Back to hell with you!
Louis...
Even now,
I'm still the only one you trust.
Kill me again.
Go on, kill me again!
Show me the only way you know how to love.
He was a loner. Had fickle moods,
switched between 'em real fast.
We can take a night off.
Uh, you're probably right.
Probably let it go after we said he burned himself.
No, we should do this.
We should be real careful, like you said.
Louis?
Three of us were a little gang for a while.
The open road,
roaming America.
Killing at truck stops, motels.
Till one day he set himself on fire.
Shocked the shit outta us.
Did it with a lighter.
Held it up to a rag hanging out his gas tank.
Thought we'd be on that road for a long time.
His last words were...
"Had enough of your gloomy faces."
Good.
Lestat could have said,
"Put your coffin on a boat.
Go to Paris.
There's a beautiful coven there,
I know cos I fucking founded it."
But he said the vampires out there are vicious.
I should tell you something.
And then I met the motherfucker, and, yeah,
Lestat was right.
It was better when he broke my bones,
crammed me under the floorboards.
I fought him,
kicked him,
clawed him, bit him.
That was fine.
It was when he had me pinned,
and he'd tell me he loved me.
Before,
during,
and after.
Before,
during,
after.
That fucked me up.
One day he said, "Had enough of your gloomy face."
Drove off on a motorbike.
Thought I might as well go home, get Louis,
head to Europe.
They're gonna let me join the coven end of this week.
It'd be nice if you come.
I wouldn't miss it for the world.
Excuse the interruption.
The lawyer for the buyer is ready for the teleconference.
Uh, the lawyer?
It's about the Bacon triptych.
Would you mind, Daniel?
I'll take a piss.
A real cold cup of water there, Rashid.
I was really in it.
- Mr. Philips, yes? - Hello.
This is the owner, Mr. Du Lac.
Mr. Philips.
Three Studies for Figures at the Base of a Crucifixion,
witnesses to Christ's agony.
Mr. Bacon also referred to these as the Three Furies,
punishers of human wrongdoing.
And the matter of provenance?
Is the buyer questioning the authenticity?
The buyer wants it for her husband.
She probably Googled what questions she should ask.
The reverse on the right panel is inscribed Petersfield,
- which is near a cottage Bacon worked at - _
- _ - during the gestating years of the painting.
An X-ray of the Fury on that panel
- _ - would reveal the face of a man,
likely Eric Hall, the owner of that cottage.
- It's only had three owners. - _
The research is basic but on you.
We have to run. Thank you.
I'll run it past my clients.
- Woodcutter! - Who are you?
I am who you think I am, woodcutter.
Go away.
The clock in your heart.
The gears have stopped meshing.
The vampires are real. They're going to kill us all.
The vampires, they're real!
- They're going to kill us all! - What is this?
He's disrupted the performance!
No, no, no, no. Let him speak, Sam.
Look who's graced us with his presence.
What an honor.
He's here in support of the girl.
- Finish the performance. - Gonna to kill you next.
Why don't you tell us who you are?
Did you read Le Monde today?
I have not.
A mutilated body found in a park three nights ago.
Crushed skull,
puncture wounds on neck,
chest and shoulder blade.
- Was that you? - Of course not.
Because everyone was in coffin by curfew.
Suppose we were to let you go?
And I don't see our girl here
at that particular park, do you?
Speak plainly.
You've had your time to recruit.
It's not happening.
He will be the ruin of us.
Do what must be done.
Are you making demands?
The coven would like to know
what you intend to do with him,
beyond comping him a fifth row center aisle ticket?
And do you speak for the coven?
After the ceremony.
After she's committed herself to us.
Then I'll do what must be done.
- Does that satisfy? - Did in my maker for far less.
Does that satisfy?
It does, Maitre.
All respects.
No pain.
Puce! Puce! Puce!
Puce! Puce! Puce! Puce! Puce!
Your first night over the footlights.
- How did it feel? - Like home.
Come, I have something for you.
Sit.
What is it, Maitre?
It's a flea circus.
May it remind you of your humble beginnings.
Would you have us?
Yes, Maitre.
Come.
The Five Laws.
Let youngest read in the youngest.
The ceremony is for members only.
Shall we have a walk?
The Five Laws.
Law one.
Each coven must have its leader
and only he might order
the working of the Dark Trick upon a mortal.
Will you abide?
I will.
Law two.
The Dark Gifts
must never be given to the crippled,
the maimed or to children...
- I'm gonna leave Paris. - Where would you go?
I was thinking London.
If it's too large, maybe Dublin.
You left a body in the park.
More reason I should leave.
No vampire must commit to writing
the history of the vampires.
You exposed us.
Should I allow the London coven such exposure?
No vampire shall ever reveal his or her true nature
to a mortal and let the mortal live.
You revealed yourself to the law firm of Roget & Abert.
They do business with vampires.
No vampire
may ever destroy another vampire...
except that the coven master
has the power of life and death
over all his flock.
"I will not harm you."
Those were your first words to me.
"My maker was a vampire named Bruce.
Who's Lestat de Lioncourt?"
Your first words to the coven.
And it is his obligation
to finally seek the destruction
of all those who have broken these five laws.
Where are we going?
We're going to get lost
and end up back by the river.
Like all our walks.
Will you abide by this fifth and final law?
I will.
A flea no more.
Take my head off if you're gonna do it.
I saw what fire does.
I don't want to go out that way.
Any other requests?
Look after Claudia.
She doesn't need looking after.
She won't be here very long.
What?!
You made her at 14.
A most turbulent chemistry.
Her mind, as fierce as it is now, will not endure.
It will break apart in time.
You don't know her.
I don't have to.
I've seen it all before.
I've seen too much, Louis.
Surprise!
You didn't think we were going to leave you in the wet room, did you?
You're a star, Claudia.
A new play for you and the ladies.
'My Baby Loves Windows.'
I play your governess.
And I play your mother.
And I play the little girl?
You'll be their little birdie for the next 50 years.
What did he call it?
'The Savage Garden.'
Why is it, Louis,
those with the most power
are often the weakest?
Don't give up on her.
Tell her she's beautiful.
Tell her that every morning.
You walked me home.
Did I?
That's my building over there.
Did he break you, Louis?
Are you broken?
No.
But I carry him.
And I don't know if I...
if I can...
The pain, the...
You will.
I did.
You and him?
A century or so ago.
Yesterday.
What is time to a vampire?
You wanna come upstairs?
Are you inviting me in?
Depends.
Are you gonna kill me?
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