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THE HOURGLASS SANATORIUM

Written by
Based on a novel by

Featuring

Music

Director of photography

Directed by

We've almost arrived.

How will I get there?

You'll find the way.
You don't need help.

I've come a long way.
I booked a room by telegram.

Who can I see?

Everybody is sleeping.
I'll tell the doctor when he wakes up.

Sleeping?
It's daytime not night.

They sleep all the time.
You didn't know?

Night never comes here.

You can wait downstairs.

In the restaurant.

The doctor will see you now.

Where is he?

We received your telegram yesterday.

We sent our coach to the station.

You must have arrived
on a different train.

The station?

We don't have
a good train connection here.

How are you feeling?

Is my father alive?

Of course.

I mean to an extent
allowed by the situation.

You know, just as I do,
that from the perspective

of your home, your country,

you father is dead.

This cannot be fully reversed.

His death casts a shadow
on his existence here.

But he doesn't know or suspect?

Don't worry.

Our patients don't suspect anything.

They can't.

You probably want to see your father.
I'll take you there.

We reserved a bed for you
in his room, as you requested.

The trick is that we moved back time.

Time is late here by an interval
which I can't precisely define.

It all boils down to relativity.

Here, your father's death
hasn't occurred yet.

But he met with his death
in your country.

So my father is dead.

- Or is close to death.
- You don't understand.

We reactivate past time
with all its possibilities.

Including recovery.

We let our patients sleep
for a long time.

We spare their vital energy.

They have nothing better
to do anyway.

Why don't you lie down?

There's nothing more
you can do now.

Good bye.

Good bye.

I came to talk to you.

Go on.

Why are you spreading lies
and gossip about father?

- What lies?
- I know you're behind them.

I didn't lie.

You remember how he went
missing for many days.

He avoided us.

Who knows whether
he's still alive somewhere?

I have to know the truth.

Stop tormenting me.
It's hard to communicate with him.

How can I cope
with everything myself?

How can I answer questions
which God keeps asking me?

It's too much for me.
His complaints terrify me.

- Don't cry.
- I have a migraine.

You won't go to school today.

To school?
Mom, I'm not a little boy anymore.

Yes, you are.
You've got ink on your hands.

Your knees are bruised.
You're a naughty, unruly boy.

You hang out
with God knows whom.

Wake those good-for-nothings.
It's time to open the shop.

- But I'm sure...
- Stop tormenting me.

I told you that your father
travels around as a salesman.

Sometimes
he returns home at night

only to go off again before dawn.

I'm sure he'll come back.

You're tossing and turning
like fish out of water.

- You sleep a bit, doze off a bit...
- Yawn a bit.

And you rest again.

You should learn wisdom
from an ant, lazybones.

An ant? Go to hell.

That ant of yours knows
no teacher, boss or shegetz.

And it's doing fine.

What's he talking about?

I walked the fields of a lazy man.

I walked the vineyards
of a stupid man.

Where is that from?
Our Lord didn't say that.

Don't listen to it!

Nettles grew over everything.

Thorns covered his land.

And the stonewall
collapsed to pieces.

Clap your hands

and call out His name
while rejoicing.

Call out his name to the sounds
of songs and trumpets.

Praise Him with harps,
praise Him with lyres.

Praise Him with the drums
and dancing.

Praise Him with stringed
instruments and horns.

Praise Him with the cymbals.

Praise him
with loud clanging cymbals.

Let everything that
has breath praise the Lord.

Alleluia.

Clap your hands and sing.

Sing.

Sing wisely.

In a dream he saw a ladder
that reaches from earth to heaven.

And God's angels
were going up and down on it.

Is it possible?

It's our little Józef!

Did you get lost on
your way to school?

Well?

Rascals! They're everywhere.

When I want to go down
to get bread in the morning,

I can't even...

...open the door.

They squeeze through cracks.

And try to get into the kitchen.

They ogle me.

They can hardly wag their tails.

They're overjoyed
when they see a fire.

They clap their hands
and dance like savages.

They're hopeless
at putting out fire.

But they like to celebrate.

- Who are you talking about?
- Those idle firemen.

They get lazy in autumn.
They sleep while standing.

I think you're prejudiced.
They're nice boys.

An old stove-fitter told me
that when he repairs chimneys,

he finds them attached
to the smoke vent,

motionless like the larvae.

They sleep like that being
drunk from raspberry juice.

And they whine in their sleep:
“Sugar, sugar”.

If I glance at one of them,

his face swells and becomes
obscenely red like a turkey.

I heard that it's a way
of strengthening the inner self.

And rejuvenating colours
when firemen eject fireworks,

rockets and Bengali lights.

I won't give them
any juice anyway.

I didn't ruin my complexion
hovering over the stove to make it,

so those rascals could drink it.

Unfortunately, Adela,

you never understood things
which go beyond the mundane.

Look.

Is it possible to grow hair
to the ground?

You look so different.
Just wonderful!

The captain of rascals!

“I, Anna Csillag, born in Moravia,
had poor hair growth”.

I wish I had hair like that.

Would you like some water?

- With raspberry juice.
- No, thanks.

Too bad.

Her poor hair growth
was divine retribution.

But prayers and penance
took the curse off her.

She was graced with enlightenment.

She received signs
and made this miraculous remedy.

Look.

These are her brothers,
cousins and brothers-in-law.

Who's he?

Another brother-in-law.
She made a whole town happy.

Really?

“Elsa. The fluid with a swan”.

It's a balm for all afflictions.
It works wonders.

Where did you get this book?

It's been here all the time,
scattered around.

“Smoke all you want”.
“Sexual Neurasthenia”.

“Gramophones”.

You silly thing.

We use its pages to wrap meat
and your father's lunch.

It's degradation of an original book.

You're late.
There's no more juice.

I have some rose preserve.
It's not bad.

Adela!

- Try it.
- Thank you.

- It's not a preserve.
- So what? It tastes sweet.

Is your name Jakub?

No, I'm Józef.
Jakub is my father.

I see.

Can you come out?
We can't talk like this.

- Excuse me.
- It's all right.

I have a valuable delivery.
Where can I find your father?

I'm looking for him myself.

Allow me to introduce
Honduras and Nicaragua.

Come closer.

It's spotted.

That's right.
It's perishable.

- Birds of paradise?
- Not only.

For hatching, it's best to let
Belgian hens sit on them.

Or you can do it yourself.

I think I see your father.

Over there!

Don't you think he's behaving
in a strange way?

He's demonstrating.

Father!

Father...

You should beware of things
like narrow-mindedness,

pedantry and blind literalism.

Have you noticed that
in some books flocks of swallows

are flying between the verses?
Stanzas of swallows.

You should learn to read
from the flight of these birds.

Father. I have to tell you something.

It's a secret.
I found an original.

- An original?
- Yes.

Look.

It's worthless!

It's a book!

It's just a myth.

A book is a myth
we believe in when we're young.

We stop treating it seriously
as we get older.

Books live a borrowed life.

Every book has a moment

when it soars into the air like

a phoenix with its pages on fire!

Look.

We love them for that moment.

But they turn to ashes.

Thank you.

Why doesn't anybody
offer goldfinch?

Where?

A book is a myth, my son.

It soars into the air
like a phoenix.

Hyderabad.

Guatemala.

Tasmania, San Domingo.

Sierra Leone.

Labrador, Barbados,
Trinidad, El Salvador,

Borneo, Sumatra, Pernambuco.

Hiporabundia.

You're talking nonsense.

You could say Panfibras.

Haleiwa, Abracadabra.

Why do I get the feeling
that I've been there before?

A long time ago.

What if we know all landscapes
that we come across in life?

Can anything new happen?

Something we can't sense?

Do you hear me?

I want to know if all this
could have happened.

Answer me.

Did it happen or not?

Yes and no.

There are some things
that can't fully happen.

They are too grand and magnificent
to fit into an event.

They just try to happen.

Tell me if they really exist.

She did exist.

And nothing can
take away my certainty.

Don't be afraid.
She can't hear us.

It's my dead mother,
she lives here.

She's inhabited by ghosts,
phantoms, larvae and chrysalises.

Helpless and naive,

she takes them into her dream
and sleeps with them.

She wakes up half-conscious
at dawn and remembers nothing.

That's why she's so sad.

She has to live so many lives.

Do you know a story
that time cannot change?

There is one that
you haven't heard.

It belongs to the night.

Will you find the patience
to listen to it?

Somebody will walk
across the sky,

cuddling a baby in a coat.

Constantly on the way,
on a endless journey.

He'll pass us with long steps.

That's what's going to happen.

Over and over again.

Bianca, you can count on me!
Till the last drop of blood!

Well?

It's a riddle.

What about her?

She's all grey.

The touch of her hand must
be beyond imagination.

What did you see there?

Something colourful,
colonial terrifying.

Abductions, pursuits, betrayals.

It's a story about an abducted
and switched princess.

You're making it up.

Java.

Sumatra.

Borneo.

I can appoint you as coregent.
Anonymously.

Together with the stamp album
we'll form a triumvirate.

We'll be responsible
for this unsolved affair.

With the stamp album?

What a naive question.
It's a universal book.

A compendium of knowledge
about human life containing

allusions and understatements.

This story will be interspersed
with dashes, ellipses and sighs.

It requires a bit of intelligence
and imagination.

Your words are delirious,
ridiculous, insane.

I was fond of you, Rudolf,
because you own this album.

Now your outbursts of
envy put me off.

Don't forget that you're
dependent on me.

I have to get to the other side.

I know.
Her father is a ship's doctor.

A small steam boat
with wheels at the sides

is waiting for her
every night at the pier.

It's lights are off.

Don't go there.
I have a bad feeling.

Don't worry. I may seem excited,
but I have my fears.

Won't it be safer to look through
the stamp album?

You haven't seen New Mexico.

Remember that there
is no final Mexico.

Behind every Mexico
there is a new one.

They only seem dead.

The don't have to breathe
for a longer period.

These villains won't be
characters in novels.

They're just a makeshift creation,
a one-time thing.

They were caught at a moment
when their obsession,

their madness was real.

Skilfully prepared, it became
the core of their new existence.

A new man was created
in the image of a mannequin.

This is anarchist Luccheni,
assassin of Empress Elisabeth.

And this is Draga,
the demonic Queen of Serbia.

Edison and Bismarck.

“Leatherstocking”.

This is a young genius,
the pride and hope of his family.

Addiction to masturbation
ruined his life.

Unfortunately, they're not authentic.

But we put a lot of effort
into making them look good.

Their faces are pale,

flushed from
the illness they died of.

Now take a look at
Emperor Franz Joseph.

Wrinkles on his face make him
look like he's smiling.

But when you come closer,
you see that

his smile is just a grimace
of bitterness and terseness.

He had a younger brother,

so different spiritually
and ideologically.

This unfortunate antagonist,
disadvantaged by birth,

was Archduke Maximilian.

The emperor loved him secretly,
but planned to get rid of him.

He appointed him commander
of the Levantine Ship Squadron,

hoping that he'd go under.

Later he signed a secret alliance
with Napoleon Ill.

That's him.

He used deception to involve
Maximilian in the Mexican incident.

This creative young man
renounced his Habsburg title

only to ride aboard
the French liner “Le Cid”

right into a trap.

Some sources say
he was just a cousin.

Others that he was never born.

He was conjectured from the fears
and hallucinations the emperor

experienced while sleeping.

We had problems putting
him back together

after his execution in Vera Cruz.

Unfortunately,
he still suffers from amnesia.

I had to teach him everything
about his life again.

My only success is that
at the sound of the name

of Emperor Franz Joseph
he draws his sword.

He wounded Victor Emmanuel.

The latter didn't manage to get out
of his way quickly enough.

Bianca...

and Maximilian?

It's a simple mechanical trick.

When wound up he moves
and acts like a live person.

A simple mechanical trick
my foot!

A cynic in the tropics.

No, a tropical cynic.

And Rudolf said I exaggerated
and made things up.

They should take their medicine
and be in bed by now.

It's not good to keep them
on stands for so long.

I can smell curare.

Would you like to see
my collection of weapons?

So my intuition was right after all.

Under the cover of law
and order hair-rising things

are happening here.

Will you tell me who Bianca is?

Her mother was a Creole.

Archduke Maximilian called her
lovingly Conchita.

She went down in history under
that name, through the back door.

Her mother?
You mean grandmother?

Mother.

After Maximilian's downfall,
she took her daughter to Paris.

She lived on a widow's pension.

That's where history loses track
of our touching character.

Allow me to finish for you.

It's confidential!

Keep calm and control yourself.

100,000 pesos.

My business is not going well.
It's an expensive project.

In 1900 a Mrs. de V,
a woman of exotic beauty,

leaves France and goes to Austria
with her daughter and husband,

having fake passports.

They get arrested in Salzburg,
while changing trains to Vienna.

After checking his fake passport,
Mr. de V is free to go.

But he does nothing to get
his wife and daughter released.

That very day he goes back
to France and is never seen again.

I will be the one to identify him.

150,000 pesos.

You're so uncompromising.
What do you want?

Your decisions will show
if you're aware of the situation.

- I want facts!
- Stop!

I think Bianca's origin
has been confirmed.

Negroes!
Hordes of Negroes!

Negroes at this time of the year?

The barometer
must be at its lowest point.

Bianca?

I thought you'd never get here.

- Sit down.
- No, infanta.

I have to do duties
which fate has assigned to me.

I have to carry out my plan.

Did you bring anything to read?

Decrees. Sign them.

“Daisy, Daisy give me your answer”.
Barrel organs everywhere!

Real marvels of technology.
They may come in handy.

Things went so far that

I got involved in the dynastic
affairs of great monarchs.

I think we're in trouble.

Let's think about betrayal.

- Betrayal?
- Yes.

- Betrayal?
- That's right.

Do you have a better idea?

I don't understand.

It must be a wonderful feeling.

To penetrate the depths
of villainy and erase oneself

from one's own memory.

Wouldn't you like to be defiled
or repulsive for a moment?

But totally renewed.

Do it.
You'll become one of them.

One of those black Negroes.

Now that things are at the final
stage you want me to betray?

You're ridiculous with your
faithfulness and sense of mission!

- What if I chose Rudolf?
- No.

I prefer him a thousand times
over you, a boring pedant.

He would be obedient.

Even when it came to crime
or self-destruction.

Rudolf obedient?

Do you remember Lonka,
the washerwoman's daughter?

You played with her
when you were a little boy.

- Yes.
- It was me.

Only I was a boy at that time.

Did you like me then?

Bianca, I feel everything
is going the wrong way.

Must you disappoint me?

May I see your tickets, please?

Conductor...

What is going on here?

Take it easy. Don't panic.

We'll fix everything quietly.
We don't need help.

Normal facts are arranged in time.

They are threaded on it...

...like onto a string.

It's important for
narration and continuity.

Fine.

What about events
which have no place in time?

Events which
have occurred too late,

when time has been allocated?

Is time too tight
to take in all events?

Time has its side offshoots,
somewhat illegal and dubious.

But we can't be too fussy

when dealing with events
that cannot be classified.

Who knows? Maybe all the dirty
manipulation is behind us.

We're heading to a dead end.

Exactly.

How can I get out of here?

Why don't you try going
under the bed again?

- Excuse me, I have to go.
- Coward!

I hope to come back again.

Coward!

Stupid coward.

It's you.

You don't look well.

Everything is mixed up, father.

Father?

It takes a lot of patience to find
the right words in this confusion.

You can do it by grammatical
analysis of sentences and tenses.

What? I don't remember.

I am, he is, she is...

I've got it!

You are, we are!

They are...

You need to eliminate
flirtatious chatter of birds,

their pointed adverbs, prepositions,

and timid personal pronouns
to find a healthy grain of time.

Legend books,
unwritten books, great epics,

pallid and monotonous
nameless novels,

faceless giants,
dark evening stories,

cloudy dramas,
errant and lost books.

You must have a lot of work.

The light on in your room
late at night.

Try. See if you can do it.

Fascinating!

What a beauty!

Remember. Paradisea apoda
or the bird of paradise.

Cardinalis cardinalis!

Chrysolophus pictus.

Upupa epops.

I want you to take
something with you.

Anything, at least a tiny bit.

Get it into your blood,
your life and save it.

And live With it.

Come in!

Go now.
They're looking for you.

I don't want to be disturbed.
Go.

Go!

Go!

Look at you.

You're covered in cobwebs.

You ripped your coat.

You've been in the attic again.

Shop assistants steal from us,
people buy on credit only,

and you just play around.

Take it to the shop.
Your father must be hungry.

The shop!

They're looking for you.

It's hot.

Who?

The shop assistants,
especially Teodor.

I know. They'll be climbing
the ladder up and down.

Up and down.

Józef!

I wish you
had been born earlier.

Come!

Take it to them.
It'll scare them.

Adela, Holofernes was a man.

Whatever. I kept her in borsch
to make her look better.

I'll buy it.

Lay off. it's not for sale.

What? The head is in a shop,
so it's for sale.

I'll buy it.

Father!

Take it away.
There's no room here.

Stop bothering me.
I'm busy.

Jakub! Go on, trade!

Father!

Wake up, Józef.

I know you're exhausted.
It's only a few steps more.

Father, you're ill. You should
take care of yourself.

Can you hear him?
He's coming.

I know him since childhood.
We went to school together.

That egoist disgusted me.
He devoured lots of buttered rolls.

Go and meet him.
He'll think I ignore him.

Go!

If I'm not mistaken it's Józef,
Jakub's son.

May the sky over your heads
always be blue,

and the ground under
your feet moist with dew.

I don't think I need to say that.

You can hear their shop
is as busy as a beehive.

It's just appearances
and pitiful mystification.

Mother complains
that people buy on credit only.

- What did he say?
- Credit.

- I must have misheard.
- I could have expected it.

- They sell on credit.
- Enough! I don't want to hear it.

Why do you keep bowing?

Turn your ear and listen
to the words of the wise.

Apply your heart to my teaching.

I sold for cash.

Help our fellow man
as much as we can,

but be vigilant
we don't fall ourselves.

The seven years of plenty
will come to this land.

It was Christian Seipel and Sons,
owners of weaving mills.

The rich man laboured
in gathering riches,

and when he rests he shall
be filled with his goods.

The poor man laboured
in his low way of life,

and in the end he is still poor.

Come.

She doesn't show up
in the park anymore.

They must be guarding her.
They smelled danger.

It's nothing but humbug!

Extraterritoriality! Mexico!
Maximilian! Cotton plantations!

Enough!
Who told you that?

The files of this secret conspiracy
were never revealed.

I'm the owner of
this stamp album.

I won't lend it to you again
for such purposes.

I must admit that
the whole thing is incredible.

Unbelievable.

What do you think, Rudolf?

Who could have conceived
such an evil idea,

which goes beyond any fantasy?

I'm amazed myself.

Tittle-tattle!
Our partnership is over!

Suit yourself.

I said I would prove
that it was all true.

- Where is Mr. de V?
- He's left.

We'll see.
Where is the infanta?

Her Highness has left too.
Nobody is here.

Right. Get out.

Somebody must have
betrayed me.

Abra...

Abra?

Abracadabra.

Great.

Come on. Get up!

Haleiwa!

Vienna!

Bravo!

Mount your horses, gentlemen!

Haleiwa!

- What's going on here?
- This way, Your Highness.

Forward!

Gentlemen,
I troubled you in vain.

These people are free to go.
Don't harm them.

In my blindness I wanted
to preach the scripture,

to interpret God's will.

My false belief made me
pursue obscure clues

and make random conclusions.

Allow me, my friend.

Noble gentlemen and you, infanta.

I hand the regency to Rudolf.

I abdicate!

You're free, noble gentlemen.

Thank you in the name
of our idea.

Our dethroned idea, which...

Hurry!

Hurry!

Father!

Call Garibaldi.
He's an expert on wounds.

Bianca.

Get a stretcher.

Hurry!

What a fatal night.
I didn't foresee it.

He had a noble heart after all.

I have wronged him.

Rudolf, you must comfort Bianca,

love her with double love
to replace her father.

You want to take him with you?

Let's form a procession.

Form a procession!

One more thing, Rudolf.

I should be the one
to provide for the old age

of those homeless heroes.

Unfortunately I'm a pauper.

- How much?
- Ten thousand.

- Five.
- No.

Twelve.

Gentlemen! After what happened
no wax museum will take you in.

Competition is big.

As you have no practical skills,

my friend made a donation
to purchase twelve barrel organs.

Go around the world
and play to make people happy.

You can choose the music.

Now, dear friends
and noble gentlemen,

let's cheer together:
Long live the newlyweds!

Farewell, gentlemen.

May what you see
be a warning to you.

Don't ever try to guess
God's intentions.

Ignorabimus, gentlemen.

Ignorabimus.

Are you Józef, Jakub's son?

Maybe. Yes.

Did you dream the standard
dream of biblical Joseph?

Maybe.

Well?

Do you know that your dream
was noticed at the highest level

and was severely criticized?

I'm not responsible for my dreams.

Yes, you are.

You are under arrest in the name
of His Imperial and Royal Majesty.

I'm at your disposal.

His Imperial and Royal Majesty's
bureaucracy is a bit slow.

I have surpassed that early dream
with more serious deeds.

I wanted to do justice
and kill myself.

Now that obsolete dream
has saved my life!

- Don't cry.
- I have a migraine.

Come. We'll make tea.

Is Adela at home?

Adela left to America.

She left?

She went by ship and it sank.
All passengers died.

We never heard from her again.

What about father?
Where is he?

He left many times,
but it was never final.

It had its good points.

This way he prepared us
for his ultimate departure.

Take me to him.

All right.

I think it's time for you
to see him.

The shop is closed for good.

Sometimes I go down there
to sell the remnants.

But the shutters
are only half-open.

He was one of those

whose face was touched by
the hand of God while sleeping.

They know
what they don't know.

They become speculative
and suspicious.

Through closed eyelids

they see images of distant worlds.

For man goes to his eternal home,

while mourners go about
in the street.

Before the silver cord is broken,

and the golden bowl is crushed.

The pitcher by the well is broken,

and the wheel at
the cistern is crushed.

Then the dust will return
to the earth as it was.

And the spirit will return
to God who gave it.

I'm so glad to see you, Józef.
What a surprise.

I feel so lonely here.

Although I can't complain.
I've been through worse things.

I must tell you something.

But don't laugh.

I rented a place for a shop here.

It's nothing much.

Back home I'd be ashamed
to have a stall like that.

But here we had to pull
in our horns.

Isn't that right, Józef?

Life goes on.

I must have overvvound it.

I see you're sleepy.

Go back to sleep.

You have no idea
how hard it was to get a loan.

People here
don't trust old merchants.

Merchants with past experience.

Do you remember the optician's
shop in the market square?

Our shop is right next door.

We don't have a sign yet.
But you'll find it.

You're going out without your coat?

I couldn't find it in my trunk.
They forgot to pack it.

Take my coat.

No. See you.

Jakub! Go on, trade.

Why don't you sit down, father?

You're ill. You should
take care of yourself.

Stop bothering me.
I'm busy.

A letter came for you.
It's on my desk among papers.

On my first day here
I was served

an excellent fillet of beef
with mushrooms.

It was a hell of a piece of meat.

I have to warn you.

If they ever want to
serve you fillet of beef...

Fillet of beef...

I still feel fire in my stomach.

I have diarrhea after diarrhea.

It's really tough.

Or take, for instance,
hunter-style roast,

stuffed with pate with gravy.

Here we don't have to deny
ourselves anything.

We can afford
to indulge big style.

An angel of a boy.
So precious.

You must admit he's charming.

Got a light?

Even schoolgirls here wear
bows in a special manner.

If you as much as glance at them,
you get that sultry look...

which fills us with desire.

I have to see the doctor.

He's at the restaurant.

I've just been there.

Sorry.
I meant the operating room.

We're evidently in a trap.

Ever since I came here,
the sanatorium personnel

hasn't done anything
to provide proper care.

We're left to ourselves.

I can't get a bed,
not to mention clean linen.

Those secrets and discreet looks
of yours are just a mystification.

I feel like opening all those
doors to expose the intrigue

we got involved in.

Get some sleep.
You can hardly keep on your feet.

Józef, Józef...

I've been lying in bed here,
left without any care.

The wires have been cut.

Nobody comes to see me.

Nobody can make me
a cup of tea.

My own son has
abandoned his sick father

to chase girls in town.

Józef, you should go
to our shop more often.

The shop assistants
are stealing from us.

Our shop will go to waste

if nobody takes care of it.

Look, my heart is pounding.

My strength is leaving me.

Józef, was there
any mail from home?

Doctor...

You're not looking well.
Take your jacket off.

I'll examine you.

Your irritation is justified.

Your body,
especially your nervous system

has to adjust to new conditions.

We were deceived by an ad.

It wasn't a good idea
to send my father here.

Moving back time!

It sounds good.
But what is it in fact?

Do we get fully valuable
and credible time here?

No. We get time
used up by people.

It's frayed and full of holes.

It's vomited, secondhand time!

You may question the quality
of your father's existence,

but you can see him
and talk to him.

You should be
very grateful to the doctor.

Enough! Space is for people.

In space you can swing around,
turn somersaults,

jump from one star to another.

But don't tamper with time!

The blame for this lies
in fast decomposition...

Of time.

We all know that

this chaotic element can be
kept within certain bounds

if regulated continually.

If not, it begins to play
all kinds of tricks.

Isn't that right?

You should take better
care of yourself.

Wear warmer clothes.

To start with, get some exercise.
Later we'll see.

Chin up!

It's lucky that father
is no longer alive.

It won't affect him anymore.

English subtitles: lwona Moreno
STUDIO PUBLISHING