Weird Woman
- PASSED
- Year:
- 1944
- 63 min
- 27 Views
This is the Inner Sanctum.
A strange, fantastic world
controlled by a mass
of living, pulsating flesh,
the mind.
It destroys, distorts,
creates monsters,
commits murder.
Yes.
Even you, without knowing,
can commit murder.
The so-called phenomena
of mysticism and sorcery
are brought about
through fear.
Fear,
enslaving countless millions,
making them believe because
they are afraid not to believe.
Reason against superstition.
Superstition,
casting its shadow
across even our civilization,
holding up strange
supernatural gods
to play on man's imagination.
Yes, we still have
a long way to go.
Hello. Yes.
I was concerned about Paula. I
wanted to know if she was all right.
Of course she's all right.
Why shouldn't she be?
Why? I don't know. But I
happened to be looking out,
and I thought I saw her
hurrying madly along the street.
And after all, Norman,
at this hour.
Why, Paula's been in bed all evening.
I'm sure you must be mistaken.
Well, maybe I was.
Sorry to bother you.
Good night.
Don't do that. It's bad luck.
Paula, haven't I told you, there's
nothing to these superstitions?
Norman, you should be in bed.
I thought I heard
someone walking about.
There's no one walking. It's the
wind. It makes things creak and slam.
Yes, I suppose so.
Why don't you go to bed?
It's late.
In a little while. I have
some more writing to do.
Now, go to sleep.
Good night.
Mud on her shoes.
She lied to me. She was out.
She must have gone
some distance.
Where?
What for?
Is she in some
sort of trouble,
or is she still clinging to the weird pagan
ritual of the islands where I first met her?
What are you doing?
Well, what is that?
He's trying to tell you it's
a line you must not cross.
All who do so offer themselves as
sacrifice to the god, Kahuna Ana Ana.
And they must die.
Oh, I see. Thank you.
Did you see the star?
Yes, I did.
It was almost as though
it was an answer to the drums.
It was. It's the music
of the dance of death.
And where the star fell,
someone will die.
Oh, now...
Oh, you mustn't scoff.
You should be very grateful
to have seen what you've seen.
Let me introduce myself.
I'm Norman Reed.
Reed?
Norman Reed?
Yes.
Didn't you come to see my
father once as a student?
He was Professor of Archeology
at the university here.
Professor Clayton.
Why, of course,
And you're that little
pigtailed, freckle-faced girl.
Your name is... It's Paula.
Oh, you do have a good memory.
It was soon after that Father died and
Laraua, my old nurse, brought me up.
She's a high priestess now.
It's almost unbelievable,
finding someone like you
in this strange setting
with witchcraft
and jungle gods. It's...
You must keep quiet. You've
offended the native gods.
Only the power of Laraua's white magic
can appease them and heal your wounds.
She has placed you
within a circle of immunity.
Wait.
Soon good.
Protect, protect, protect.
Paula said it was a circle of
immunity that saved my life.
Strange superstitious child.
I remember when I first brought
her home from the islands.
Norman. He's here.
Oh, darling, it's wonderful
to have you back.
Ilona, I...
Hello, Norman.
Norman, glad to see you.
Hello everybody.
Paula, dear.
Folks, this is my wife.
Welcome, my dear.
Oh, she's lovely.
Norman, you sly old fox.
This is a great day,
a great day for Monroe.
Norman, you've certainly done yourself
proud, a brilliant book and a beautiful bride.
Come, this calls
for a real celebration.
Get yourself some asbestos mittens
before you light that torch, Ilona.
This is Professor
and Mrs. Harrison.
How do you do, Professor?
And here are the Sawtelles.
Millard's in the Sociology Department,
and Evelyn's a shark at bridge.
Well, Norman, we received the
advance copies of the book.
Why, it's a fine job.
And fine press, too.
Well, thank you.
Millard's written a book,
too, since you left,
and it's been accepted
by World Press.
Oh, that's fine. Congratulations
to you, Millard, then.
Thank you. Yes, yes,
I've really been too busy,
but Evelyn kept at me.
Not as brilliant as yours.
Oh, now.
With this admiring throng's permission,
the hostess would like to introduce herself.
Well, it's about time. This
is my sister Ilona, Mrs. Reed.
I want you two to be good
friends. I hope we shall be.
Why don't we start by
mixing you a drink?
Norman, will you help me mix
another round? He's an expert mixer.
And now, my dear, if you
will... That will do, Septimus.
Why, you seventh son of a
seventh son, give it a rest.
Come away from this aging wolf
in an academic sheepskin, child.
Well, it looked like everything
is practically ready to me.
A fine return, Norman.
I planned this little party for
your homecoming, and look what I get.
I met Paula, fell in love with
her, and that's all there is to it.
Well, it isn't enough.
It isn't enough to keep everyone on
the campus from laughing behind my back.
Oh, Ilona, quit dramatizing
yourself. It's not your style.
We had a pleasant flirtation and... Is
that all it meant to you, flirtation?
Of course, and that's
all it meant to you.
It suits you to say that now.
Oh, Ilona, for Pete's sake, the worst I
could have done is to puncture your ego.
You compliment me.
Oh, why can't you be sensible?
We can still be friends. There's
no use being childish about this.
My humble apologies. I
Fair Hebe,
bearer of the vestal cup.
In other words, he means,
"Bring on the drinks. "
Come on, everybody,
a toast to the bride.
What's the matter, Evelyn?
Scared Millard won't be promoted
to the sociology chairmanship?
Here's to the bride.
Oh, thank you.
And the groom.
To Superstition
vs. Reason and Fact.
The book, of course,
and to the bride.
Oh, it's a bad omen to clink glasses.
Oh, I never heard of that one before.
We don't believe in those silly
superstitions, do we, Norman?
What an odd-looking
medallion. I always wear it.
My old nurse gave it to me. She
said it was a good luck piece.
Yes, you'll read all about it in my
book. That is, if you read my book.
But I have read it.
You've even got the medallion
on the cover, haven't you?
That was Paula's idea.
According to the islanders, it's supposed
to be very powerful magic, isn't it?
Well, in a way it is,
yes, but... Oh, Norman!
I suppose you know that old Henry
Braggs has gone to Cornwall Tech as Dean.
I did. I think he'll do
a fine job of it, too.
That leaves the sociology
chairmanship open.
Millard's got it all sewed up.
I don't anything of the sort.
It's just according to seniority.
Oh, now, now, my dear...
Well, she's perfectly right.
You're right in line
for it, Millard.
Oh, fiddle-faddle.
Brains might be a factor, too.
Grace, you're incorrigible. Don't
you pay any attention to her.
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