Afrikaans
Akan
Albanian
Amharic
Armenian
Azerbaijani
Basque
Belarusian
Bemba
Bengali
Bihari
Bosnian
Breton
Bulgarian
Cambodian
Catalan
Cebuano
Cherokee
Chichewa
Chinese (Simplified)
Chinese (Traditional)
Corsican
Croatian
Czech
Danish
English
Esperanto
Estonian
Ewe
Faroese
Filipino
Finnish
French
Frisian
Ga
Galician
Georgian
German
Greek
Guarani
Gujarati
Haitian Creole
Hausa
Hawaiian
Hebrew
Hindi
Hmong
Hungarian
Icelandic
Igbo
Indonesian
Interlingua
Irish
Italian
Japanese
Javanese
Kannada
Kazakh
Kinyarwanda
Kirundi
Kongo
Korean
Krio (Sierra Leone)
Kurdish
Kurdish (Soranรฎ)
Kyrgyz
Laothian
Latin
Latvian
Lingala
Lithuanian
Lozi
Luganda
Luo
Luxembourgish
Macedonian
Malagasy
Malay
Malayalam
Maltese
Maori
Marathi
Mauritian Creole
Moldavian
Mongolian
Myanmar (Burmese)
Montenegrin
Nepali
Nigerian Pidgin
Northern Sotho
Norwegian
Norwegian (Nynorsk)
Occitan
Oriya
Oromo
Pashto
Persian
Polish
Portuguese (Brazil)
Portuguese (Portugal)
Punjabi
Quechua
Romanian
Romansh
Runyakitara
Russian
Samoan
Scots Gaelic
Serbian
Serbo-Croatian
Sesotho
Setswana
Seychellois Creole
Shona
Sindhi
Sinhalese
Slovak
Slovenian
Somali
Spanish
Spanish (Latin American)
Sundanese
Swahili
Swedish
Tajik
Tamil
Tatar
Telugu
Thai
Tigrinya
Tonga
Tshiluba
Tumbuka
Turkish
Turkmen
Twi
Uighur
Ukrainian
Urdu
Uzbek
Vietnamese
Welsh
Wolof
Xhosa
Yiddish
Yoruba
Zulu
Hello granny, it's Jenny.
Are you well?
The weather is wonderful.
Yes, they just took the last of the furniture.
It looks so empty.
No, dinner's impossible. I must be at the clinic first.
I'll be there at eight.
Well. Give grandpa my love.
Until then.
I think you'd feel a lot better
if you got up and washed and dressed.
In any case we should open the curtains.
It's quite warm in here.
Last time I saw you we had a good discussion.
What's happened today?
You know that I know you're putting on an act.
What good is that?
Forehead...
Cheek...
Eye...
Mouth...
Maria, don't.
Poor Jenny...
Poor Jenny...
Poor Jenny...
Jenny! Come in. - Granny!
How nice, to see you! - Yes, it is wonderful.
Grandpa and I, we were excited all clay long.
Where is Grandpa?
Grandpa! How are you?
Here I am and I'm staying for two months.
Erik gives his regards, he is in Chicago at a congress.
We just talked on the telephone. He will have much to tell you later.
Come along now, I'll take you to your room.
I've put you in Karin's room.
It's quiet, you won't be disturbed.
And now in the summer there's no noise from the street.
So many troubles! - I have a surprise for you.
Do you still remember? The furniture
you had as a young girl?
I got it from the attic. Do you recognize it?
Would you like a firmer pillow?
I remember that you... - Oh no, that's fine.
The commode and the small cabinet are ready for you,
but you can also have the wardrobe.
There are only old summer clothes in it,
they can be put elsewhere.
The commode and the small cabinet are all ready.
If your old desk is too small,
I can bring you the big one from Karl's room.
This summer, it isn't needed in there. - Everything is all right.
You must tell us if you need something.
Grandpa and I have so looked forward to you coming.
So have I.
We'd better go and have some tea with Grandpa.
He gets so impatient if he has to wait.
Can you help Grandpa?
And how's my little Anna?
Anna's gone off to a riding camp.
She's in love with a boy three years older than she is
who's been telling her all about the world revolution.
Is he also at the riding camp? - Don't worry, granny.
Anna is 14 years old and can take care of herself.
Sugar in your tea? - Yes, please. Three lumps.
Oh, you've made scones.
And I've been considering a diet... - That's nonsense.
Well, after the riding camp, Anna will be staying with a girlfriend in Skfine.
And she won't be home until school begins.
And when will the new house be ready? - In August, I hope.
The construction supervisor has promised, but you never know.
And you work at the hospital all summer?
Then you'll have no holidays.
Erik and I thought about going to Taormina in October, but we'll see.
What sort of substitute is it?
I'm filling in as a senior physician.
I hope you're well paid. - Yes, thank you, Grandma, I'm very well paid.
Are You happy at work?
I'm happy wherever I am. I take after you.
What's the matter? - With me? I'm just fine.
Is something wrong between you and Erik? - Not at all!
But something is wrong. - I'm just a little out of sorts.
I still haven't recovered completely from that bout of flu I had in spring.
I have to take vitamins.
Come, let's say goodnight to Grandpa.
Grandpa loves to pore over these old photographs.
He can look at them for hours.
That could be the summer of '48.
It must be, because Greta has a big belly
and Ragnar was born in September.
There were so many of us.
And that damned boat that always broke down when we needed it.
How I hated that boat.
You were Daddy's little girl. - Oh, there were reasons for that.
Goodnight. Sleep well.
Don't look at the pictures too long
or your eyes will start to hurt again.
You come for Maria Jacobi?
I think that it is difficult to be alone.
Couldn't you stop smoking for a while? I'm almost dead from nicotine poisoning.
Excuse me. Let's open a window.
Too late. Already opened.
I'll empty the ashtray.
I've been treating Maria for 2 months.
For a long time she was almost catatonic. Now at least we can talk to each other.
We've stopped treatment of any kind. She is quite unresponsive to...
I know.
You know as well as I do that we can't have people here untreated month after month.
We have to do something to get her out.
Maria is remarkable: sensitive, clever, emotionally well-equipped.
What good are all these excellent qualities, if one is haunted by anguish?
All the same, I've made a little progress.
Hand her over to me when you've had enough,
and realised how hopeless it is to cure psychoses of her kind.
So far there are only mechanical solutions.
Do you think they deserve to be called solutions?
You know, a quack psychiatrist once wrote that mental illnesses are the worst scourge on earth,
and that the next worst is the curing of those illnesses.
I'm inclined to agree with him.
Then I see, it's all black for Maria.
20 years ago I realised the inconceivable brutality in our methods
and the complete bankruptcy of psychoanalysis.
I don't believe we can cure a single person.
One or two will be cured despite our efforts.
I think I'll keep Maria a little longer, if you don't mind.
You're the boss. At least for now.
Will you excuse me if I go now? I'm having lunch with the housing minister,
an incurably normal neurotic. Besides, I'm dying for a cigarette.
Bye-bye.
Ancl as I said, hand Maria over to me when you're tired of her.
Ideally before Erneman comes back from Australia.
For him, this is a factory that must pay its way
and he likes to see the lunatics turn over.
That's why the politicians love him so much
and let him gallivant all over the world, spreading his gospel.
By the way, are you coming to my wife's party?
Are you? - No. She's revealing her new lover.
Young Mr. Stromberg. - The actor?
Exactly.
He is 26 years younger than my wife.
It's all very touching.
I mean it, without irony. - Isn't Stromberg...
Yes, but Elisabeth loves his little playmates too. She's like a mother to them.
Then I'll have to go.
You can tell her that I have a poor prognosis for young Stromberg
and that I love her in spite of everything.
Jenny, my love! Well, this is a nice time to show up!
Wasn't it five o'clock? - No, it was two o'clock.
Almost everyone has left.
But come in. It's so good to see you!
What a smart outfit you have. Let me see... it's completely wonderful.
Where did you get it from? It becomes you!
You are so beautiful. If only I looked like you!
How lovely to see you. Come in.
Where's your husband? Oh, right, he's in America.
This is Mikael.
I'm madly in love with him, actually.
He's so sweet to me.
And this is his best friend, Ludvig.
He hates when he is called Ludde.
We're going to Bahamas, the three of us.
And this is Tomas. I'm sure you've heard about him.
He travels to developing countries, teaching girls how to use contraceptives.
And he's the sweetest doctor in the world if you have heart problems,
if you know what I mean...
And this is... I have no idea.
Who is this? Mikke, do you remember who this is?
Let's not bother him. He's taken a little nap.
He deserves it after telling us all off a while ago.
What a speech that was.
And this is a pair of charming girls.
They are very sweet and so talented.
They've just opened a boutique around the corner.
I think we should offer the boys some strawberries.
Aren't they gorgeous, in their tight dresses?
Imagine us in those clothes...
Imagine that.
This is really funny. Such clothes, no really!
Are you happy?
I'm only telling this to you, because you understand me.
Naturally we have problems. - Really?
Cheers, Jenny! - Cheers.
Mikael is very complicated.
Sometimes I'm almost afraid of him.
Ludvig worries me. I don't like him at all.
But you have to take the rough with the smooth.
And on the whole I suppose...
we are what you'd call happy.
Is everything all right?
I've come to the conclusion that I'm grateful.
Humbly grateful, if you know what I mean.
Not only because of Mikael.
But because I still have myself.
I know that it's my feelings and sensations.
There's no gap between myself and what I experience.
Nothing separates me from my feelings.
Heavens, how badly I'm putting it.
I almost envy you.
We have to leave. We're going to the countryside.
Sorry that you have to go now, but thank you for coming.
Oh, it was lovely.
How are you? - Fine, thanks. And how might you be?
I'm always well.
So what shall we talk about now? - We have an...
Sorry.
An excellent topic. - Really?
You have a patient who happens to be my half-sister.
Oh, Maria.
Exactly.
It feels inappropriate to talk about a patient in this environment.
We don't have to. - How do you mean?
We could have dinner together.
There's a nice little fish restaurant nearby.
- Well, I... - Of course. We can do it another time.
I'm in town until the end of August. Goodbye.
Shouldn't we go to the restaurant? I'm just going to make a call.
If the offer's still open, that is?
Elisabeth!
Could I make a call? - Of course.
Use the one in the bedroom and you won't be disturbed.
Forgive the mess,
the boys mixed-up all my underwear just before the guests arrived!
They gave me quite a fright.
They even threatened to destroy one of my dresses!
They are completely batty!
Hi, Martin. Thank God I got a hold of you.
Sorry, but I can't see you tonight.
What? Yes, it's a patient.
Have I met someone who's more fun?
You're so silly.
Jealousy is most out of place between us.
Yes, I know you were joking.
See you then.
Oh, lord!
I have to go. See you soon!
Tomas hasn't invited you? - You have been listening!
Do not feel guilty! You owe me one!
Guilty? No.
Tomas is crazy about women and also very complicated.
Interesting.
When I met him, I was still Charles's wife,
Tomas was young and ill-mannered and very temperamental. And so sensitive!
So sensitive that I... well, never mind.
Goodbye.
Take care, clear. - You too.
Call me and tell me everything, right?
Shall we, or do you cling to your impulse of escaping?
They serve a delicious fillet of sole. - I'm quite hungry.
Let's eat then, and see what happens next. Is that fine?
The house is falling down with age and disrepair.
Sometimes I consider getting something more modern.
When there was a woman in the house, the garden was nice but now it's...
What would you like to drink? - I'm fine.
How are you? - How are you?
I'm fine. As always, I must say. - Congratulations.
Coffee? - Maybe later. Do you play?
No, it was my wife who played. - Is she dead?
We divorced a couple of years ago.
Was it as successful as everything else? - The divorce was the best thing we did.
My husband is away for three months.
So you implied at dinner.
Actually I miss him very much. - Oh, I'm quite sure you do.
I've got myself a lover who isn't half as nice. Can you understand that?
Sort of. What other cures do you have for your anxiety?
Here and there?
We're moving to a new house this autumn. - How nice.
Do I bore you?
Not at all.
I'm just wondering if your breasts aren't tremendously beautiful.
To satisfy your curiosity, I can tell you that they are very beautiful.
And with that you'll have to be content. - You misread me, but never mind.
A cigarette? - I don't smoke.
Sensible. Very sensible.
Sensible or not, I'm going home.
Will you call for a taxi? - Wait a moment.
I'm very tired. - Just listen for a moment.
Go on.
Can't we be friends?
Don't sneer. I'm serious, I mean it.
Jenny, are you listening?
Oh, yes.
I just want to know how you've imagined us getting from here to your bedroom.
How you've figured out getting over the awkwardness of undressing.
What amazing techniques you'll use to satisfy me, and yourself.
What demands you place on my performance.
How advanced and impulsive you allow me to be.
You're very funny. - Too bad, because I'm serious.
I also want to know,
how we are to wind it all up when the sex act is over.
Tenderly and quietly?
A cigarette glowing in the morning light?
Nervous small talk about the next time
as we exchange phone numbers?
I can at least drive you home. - No thanks. I'll take a taxi.
You have drunk too much.
A taxi for Soderhamnsvagen 9, please, Professor Jacobi.
Goodbye, Jenny my clear. Thank you for a pleasant evening.
Hope to see you again sometime.
Maybe we could go to a movie.
Or a concert. At midsummer, there are some.
That would be nice.
I'll call you. - Maybe I'll call you.
That would surprise me. - Perhaps I'll call you for just that reason.
It's so light. - It's almost two o'clock.
Are you running around again? - The clock...
We wound it up properly last night. - It keeps stopping.
It doesn't. - It loses time.
It keeps the same time as the other clocks
but if you insist on tampering with it, then it's sure to stop.
I'm not going to put you in a nursing home.
It's all in your imagination, do you hear?
This is too expensive for us.
Why are you talking such nonsense?
The lawyer was here last week
and said that our finances were very good.
The lawyer is more senile than I am!
That's not true. You exaggerate.
He isn't? - Not at all.
He is clearheaded, you mean? - Yes.
I'm so damned ashamed.
You have nothing to be ashamed of.
Not with you, but with all the guests.
Now you're being silly, Jenny isn't a guest.
There's so much worry in the house.
You're anxious just because you've been sick, that's all.
Summer is coming. In August we will have a holiday,
and then everything will be better.
Old age is hell.
There, there. You always have me.
I'm always by your side.
There's nothing to worry about. - I'm sorry.
Come and lie in my bed.
You'll sleep better and feel calm.
I'll just snore and keep you awake.
I've already slept enough.
Come now.
I'll make you nice and comfy.
Look. - The grandfather clock keeps losing time.
I'll fix it tomorrow.
There's no need to rush. I don't walk as well as I used to.
Sorry. Very slowly
Where are my slippers? - What slippers?
The other ones. - They're in the closet.
No, I looked there. - Yes, my clear,
I myself put them there. You never find anything.
Don't be so stubborn. They are not there. - Well, I'll look for them later tomorrow.
Who is it?
Who are you calling? - I must get Maria to the hospital.
What's the hurry? - She's unconscious. What have you clone to her?
Are you sure we're the ones who drugged her?
In any case she must get to the hospital. - Wait a minute.
No need for an ambulance.
Don't be afraid. I won't do anything.
I have a proposition: you get out of here immediately,
then I'll take Maria with me. I will not report you.
Listen to me. - I'm not interested.
You will listen to me anyway.
Whether you want to know or not, the situation is this:
Maria called us yesterday and wanted to go out, so we picked her up.
At night she got ill and started yelling for you and that we must take her to you.
We looked you up in the phone book and drove her here.
Nobody opened, so we crawled in through the cellar window.
When we saw it was all empty, we called the hospital and got
your current number.
She's too tight.
Some women have to pay for a lay, did you know that?
Now you can call your ambulance.
This is Dr. Isaksson at the psychiatric clinic.
I'd like an ambulance for Embavagen 35. Yes, right away.
Let's not talk too much this evening. - It's completely up to you.
You don't understand. - No, not really.
There are certain moments in life you just have to get through.
Well, and what of that? - Certain hours, minutes.
Is it like that now? - Maybe.
Anyway, I am grateful that we're together. - You need a drink.
Last time we met we were rather absurd. Don't you think?
I hardly ever think I'm absurd.
Do you have sleeping pills? - Of course. Do you want one?
Most of all I'd like you to give me,
a double close of those sleeping pills.
Then maybe I'll sleep twice as well.
And then?
Then I'd like to sleep here in your bed,
without making love.
You'd hold my hand if needed...
Can you do that?
Don't drink if you'll take the sleeping pills.
One Valium and two Mogadons. A good combination.
I use it myself without after-effects.
If you drink some strong coffee in the morning you'll pick right up.
When do you want to be woken? - Just before 7.
I must be at the hospital by 8:30.
Come. - Tomas?
If you force things to be as usual, then it will be as usual.
Don't you agree?
That's how it is with me anyway.
Something odd happened to me today.
When I went to get Maria
there were two men in the house.
One of them tried to rape me.
At first I was frightened,
then I thought it was ridiculous.
And then...
And then?
He had his face pushed,
against my breast.
He was red in the face,
and tried to penetrate me.
And suddenly, I wanted him so desperately to do it.
I wanted to have him in me.
Is that so strange? - No.
What was strange was that even though I wanted him to,
he couldn't get inside me.
Everything was tight...
cramped...
and dry.
I'm sorry.
I don't know...
Try to sit up.
I don't understand. - Breathe slowly.
Take a deep breath.
I want to go home. You're getting me a taxi.
I don't want you to drive me home.
It's over.
Should I call a doctor? - There are doctors here already...
I'm just tired. I want to go home.
There's nothing wrong with me.
I want to go home.
I'm okay again.
I want to go home and go to bed.
There's nothing wrong with me.
How are you now?
Better.
Say what you like, but I'm going to drive you home.
Sorry for being so stupid. - You should rest.
Tomorrow I'll be fine.
Then I have two clays off.
Next time we'll talk only about you.
You slept all clay yesterday.
And evidently last night. I was getting worried..
What clay is it? - It's Saturday, 9 am.
I called the hospital and said your tummy was upset.
God, I've slept right round the clock.
I've brought you some breakfast. - Thank you.
You should have some coffee and piece of toast.
Unfortunately I can't stay home to look after you.
Grandpa and I have been invited to the Egermans at Hogsatra
and we can't refuse them.
Grandpa is looking forward enormously to being in the country for a few clays.
I'll be quite all right by myself. - Are you sure?
I'll enjoy it.
The refrigerator is full.
There's steak and a chicken casserole. I've bought milk and bread and...
Grandma, go to Hogsatra in peace.
You know, I'm happy alone, even when I'm sick.
You call me if you don't recover.
I promise.
Is there anything else? - No.
Are you sure? - Quite sure.
Shall I ask Aunt Erika to drop in and see how you are?
Anything, but not Aunt Erika.
As you like.
It must be Sunday...
The bells are ringing.
I should get up and eat something.
It still feels strange.
At least the anxiety is gone.
One step at a time.
A little food.
A walk.
A nice book...
maybe a film.
Hi Tomas, it's Jenny.
I just wanted to apologise for last time.
Thanks, I feel splendid.
I thought you could take me to the movies?
What do you think? Yes, good.
I'm not afraid...
not lonely.
Not even sad.
It feels quite nice.
Once there was a little girl,
who lived in a red castle.
Every day she walked through the magnificent halls
and the long, winding corridors.
But she found no one which she could confide in.
Forgive me, Grandma, I'm late.
Outside there is a blizzard, the streets are full of snow.
Who are these people? - Never mind.
Sit down with me so we can read on.
In the castle there lived an evil old woman...
and an even more evil old man.
Before the lord of the castle went out into war... - What's happening?
He told them to bring him the girl... - What happened here?
They promised to do so... - I'm so afraid.
And smiled, to gain his favour.
When the knight was gone... - It's so hard to breathe. Grandma?
What is it?
Why does it smell so bad here?
And it's so hot.
It's so hard to breathe. - Be quiet now, Jenny.
The temperature is exactly right and it doesn't smell bad.
Once the old man and the witch... - Sure, the old people smell in such a way.
Were alone in the castle they found...
Grandma and Grandpa smell bad.
The fact that the little girl was too lazy.
She wanted to be educated... - How disgusting are old people.
They put the girl in a sack. - You always smell so bad.
Then they piled up her toys... - One can hardly breathe.
And set everything to fire.
I hate it when Grandma puts her hand on my shoulder and wants me to kiss it.
The girl wept bitterly. - She wants me to kiss her.
All the wonderful gifts of Father. - This story scares me!
Hush! Be quiet!
I would advise you not to open the door.
You're just trying to scare me.
Suit yourself. I've warned you.
If I open the door, I'll wake up.
You can't wake up.
I can if I try... - Then go on.
I suddenly remember something.
My suicide attempt was unsuccessful.
Not entirely. - What do you mean?
Brain damage clue to lack of oxygen. Have you never heard of that calamity?
It can't be so horrible. - Oh yes, it can.
An absolute mercilessness that is also self-inflicted.
Will I always live like this? - It seems likely.
At the hospital, they'll keep you alive,
awake or unconscious, by all means.
How long? - Until you die. Properly.
And how long before that? - Seconds, minutes, years. Who knows.
It mustn't be like that.
Yes, Jenny. It must be exactly like that.
Then it doesn't matter if I open that door.
Logically, your argument is unassailable.
Do you know what's in there? - No, now should I?
Why did you warn me then?
We're thankful for the horrors we're used to.
The unknown ones are worse.
I'm going to open it, anyway. - By all means.
You always have your free will.
You're leaving?
I don't want to get into a worse mess than I'm in already.
So if you'll excuse me...
Don't go.
I'm leaving your dream and entering my own.
Don't try to make me stay. - Don't go!
Alone...
Grandma!
If only I could wake up.
Are you cold? - Yes.
Borrow my shawl. - Thank you.
You're not afraid any longer? - I don't think so.
Let me... I don't want to.
I don't want to.
Leave me alone...
I think my legs have come off.
Can't someone get them...
from the corner over there...
and fasten them on?
Hello...
Are you here?
You said we'd go to the movies. Remember?
Suddenly you were silent and put the receiver down.
I didn't know what to think, though it did seem odd.
So I called back and nobody answered.
I thought you had been robbed or something.
I really didn't know what to think.
It was very unpleasant.
Are you thirsty? Like something to drink? - Yes, please.
There. Careful.
I am very grateful.
Finally I got so worried that I came over and rang your doorbell.
I got the janitor to open the door. - I'm falling asleep.
Too bad.
Too bad, so tired.
Your patients have been waiting for hours. - Here?
Yes. According to the new contract. Don't you remember?
Oh, right. How awkward.
Help me.
They've made an incision in my head
and cut away my anguish.
But when they sewed my head up again
they left the daily dread behind.
Come back next month.
Don't forget to take your medicine.
I'm afraid of dying. - Me too, Grandpa.
What should I do? - Count to ten.
If you're still alive when you get to ten, then start again.
And then? - Just keep on. You just have to count.
Will it help?
You have to put something important between yourself and death all the time.
Otherwise it becomes unbearable.
One, two, three,
four, five, six
I'm still afraid.
Please, I must take care of the rest.
We're rushed off our feet with Christmas. I don't know what gets into people.
Yes, I quite understand. Forgive me.
Anna! What are you doing here?
Don't be afraid of me!
It smells awful.
I'm sweaty and dirty.
I would like once, only once in my life
to find the right words.
Yes, only once.
Exactly, Jenny.
They're sitting there in the dark, your patients, longing for the right words.
But it must be their words, their feelings, not your words and your feelings.
I know that loneliness.
The loneliness of the people...
their courage to bear it.
Like children in the dark who are determined not to call out
lest they grow even more afraid if no one should come.
They weep quietly and restrainedly in their loneliness.
Jenny.
It smells terrible.
I'm sweaty and dirty.
Your husband is here.
Not now!
You have a knack for springing surprises.
Yes.
I just got off the plane.
Poor you. It must be horrible. - Not at all.
Will you sit down? - Of course.
I smell nasty. I'm so sorry. - Please. It doesn't matter.
Can't you come back tomorrow?
By then we'll both have recovered a little.
Sure, but...
I must fly back tomorrow.
It's hopeless. I'm to be the chairman of... - Poor you.
Don't feel sorry for me.
The trouble I cause.
It would have been awful if you...
I'd never have...
In all my life I've never been so... - Forgive me.
Why did you do it? - Forgive me...
Forgive me...
I realise I'm largely to blame for this.
Though I don't know how.
I've tried to think it out...
Another time, Erik?
Can you rest now?
Yes, I think so. Please don't worry, there's no need.
What do you want me to tell Grandma? If she asks...
You can tell the truth.
And Anna? - I'll have to talk to her myself.
You can just call her up
and ask how she's getting along at the camp. - Yes, I will.
Goodbye then.
Good luck.
We'll keep in touch! Eh?
Take care.
Mama, where are you?
Daddy, I'm home.
Why are you hiding?
Come forth.
You're just scaring me.
Mama, it's me.
Daddy, it's me!
Don't you recognise me?
Daddy, I like you so much.
You were so kind to me.
It was so strange when you just disappeared.
I saw you when you were dead.
You were lying at the mortuary.
Dear Mama, don't be so afraid.
It's all right. I'm not nine years old any more.
I'm grown up and have taken sleeping pills,
but apparently I failed.
Daddy? Mama?
You couldn't help being so anxious about everything.
Mama, clear little Mama.
Everything had to be exactly right and proper and so drearily neat and tidy.
Daddy, you were so fond of hugging and being tender.
You were so sad and nervous...
We used to hurt each other without meaning to.
Just think, all our lives, all the clays
and all the words and little things.
Daddy? Mama?
We had nice times too, didn't we?
I was a child, I didn't know what it was all about.
But still, still you slammed the door,
and I stood there and burned with guilt!
Always with a bad conscience, always to blame!
Mama! Daddy!
Go away and never come back!
I hate you! I want to forget you completely!
And I never want to see your anxious eyes
and your frightened gestures.
It's always the same!
First, I say I love you
and then, I say I hate you,
and then you turn into two scared children, ashamed of yourselves.
Then I feel sorry for you and love you again.
I can't go on any longer.
Tomas...
Why are you looking after me?
I have my reasons.
By the way, I'm your doctor. - I didn't know that.
But now you do. - Is there coffee in that thermos?
Yes. - Can I have some?
No, I think you'd feel pretty sick if you started gulping down a lot of strong coffee.
But you can have fruit juice. - No thanks.
It's good for you to drink something.
How can you do your work if you sit here day and night?
I'm on vacation.
Oh. Couldn't you find a nicer way of spending it
than watching over a mixed-up suicide?
No. - Tell me a story.
When I was nine, I learned to belch.
My older brother taught me.
One clay at dinner I thought it was a good opportunity
to demonstrate my newly acquired skills to the assembled family.
I found a gap between the meatballs and the apple pie.
It was not a success.
I was so nervous that I happened to fart at the same moment I belched.
How sad.
I made a stir, but was a failure.
I was sent away from the table and not allowed any apple pie and custard.
My upbringing was very strict, not to say dogmatic.
Tell me more. I like to hear.
I don't know that there's much to tell. - Anything will do.
Perhaps you've just read something
or met someone interesting
or been to a movie or on a trip.
Frankly, it's over a year since anything happened to me.
What happened then?
Someone walked out on me. - Oh right, you're divorced.
No, it had nothing to do with a wife. - Oh?
It was a friend who walked out.
I was very fond of him.
That's not true.
I loved him.
We had lived together for five years.
You met him at that ridiculous party given by Wankel's wife.
I suppose you know who I mean?
The actor, Stromberg? - That's right.
Now we're just friends.
Why did you separate?
Poor Tomas.
In our cruel market,
disloyalty is total and the competition ruthless.
Wankel's wife offered better terms:
she accepted his new friend and offered to support them both.
She's wealthy, as you know. - Wasn't he fond of you at all?
I think he was.
But he is beautiful, talented and a little spoilt,
and I suppose he needed something different.
My emotions and my jealousy were too much for him.
Sleep a while?
What time is it?
01:30. Almost break of dawn.
There is no reason to cry. - It's not that.
Help!
Mama!
Daddy!
Help!
Mama!
Help!
Daddy!
When I was young,
I knew that death frightened me.
It was always present.
It surrounded me.
My dog was run over. that was almost worse than anything.
Mama and Daddy were killed in a car crash.
Well, I've already told you.
Then a cousin died of polio. I was 14.
We had sat under the dining table kissing on the Saturday,
the next Friday he was dead.
You've always been regarded as a miracle of sanity, haven't you.
Before I got married, I lived for some time with a crazy artist.
When he got very upset, he said:
"Your frigidity is so complete that it's interesting".
I said: "I'm only frigid with you."
"Everyone else makes me come."
I was at a party not so long ago,
where someone read out a poem about death and love,
and how they sink into each other.
And include each other.
I remember mocking that poem.
Quite childish, don't you think?
Maybe.
We act the play.
We learn our lines.
We know what people want us to say.
We lie.
In the end, it's not even deliberate.
Self-discipline.
Bewilderment. Pride. Humility.
Self-confidence. Uncertainty.
Wisdom, stupidity and vice-versa.
Arrogance and vulnerability...
Easily hurt. That's it, terribly easily hurt.
Sensitive and passionate
but inhibited.
Everywhere inhibited...
reticent, paralysed.
Capable... and conscientious.
You can rely on little Jenny.
Just as if she were something real,
like the engine of an airplane or a good boat.
Daddy was so kind.
He was an alcoholic.
He would always hug me.
We had it so good.
Mama passed by and said "That's enough of that soppiness".
And Grandma said: "Your daddy may be nice, but he's a real lazybones".
Mama agreed with Grandma, they kept despising Daddy.
And got me to join them. That's how easy it was.
Suddenly I was embarrassed when Daddy kissed and hugged me.
Grandma thought he was silly and lazy and I was anxious to please her.
Then I had my own child.
Anna had a funny cry.
It wasn't like other babies.
She didn't cry with rage or because she was hungry and wet.
It was more like real sobbing.
It was heart rending.
Sometimes I wanted to hit her for crying like that
and sometimes I was beside myself with tenderness.
But all the time with myself in the way.
A most peculiar selfish fear.
I would not let myself go.
Ancl then the joy went out of everything.
I remember the first time I heard Mama cry.
I was in the bedroom and heard Mama and Grandma talking.
Grandma had such a low, strange voice,
and suddenly Mama screamed. I didn't know what it was about.
I was terribly scared.
Mostly because Grandma's voice was so creepy.
I rushed into the living room
and saw Mama sitting on a low chair by the window, crying.
And Grandma standing in the middle of the room.
When I came in, she turned to me and stared.
It was Grandma's face,
and yet it wasn't.
She looked like a mad dog getting ready to bite.
I was even more afraid and ran back into the bedroom
and prayed that Grandma would get her real face back
and that Mama would stop crying.
It's so horrible when faces change so that you don't recognise them.
I can't talk about this.
I don't want to.
Give me a shot please. I can't stand it anymore!
Do not touch me! Leave me alone!
I feel sick.
I can't go on living with this.
Relax now.
Be calm.
It's all right.
You can't wear that dress today! It's your Sunday best!
You'll never manage that. Let me help you.
Eat up what you have on your plate.
Using lipstick, are you?
Most unseemly while you're living in our home.
You're late again. Can you never learn to be punctual?
You're lazy and spoiled.
If you go on like this
Grandpa and I will send you to boarding school,
you'll soon learn to mend your ways there, my girl.
In this house, Jenny, live decent people,
people who have tried to live in cleanliness and truth.
If you intend to continue living here
with Grandpa ancl me, you must change your behaviour.
You should be grateful!
Can't you for once in your life show some gratitude?
Don't hit me like that! Don't hit me in the face!
I'll teach you to behave. What's all this nonsense? Stop crying.
I don't believe in those tears.
I do as I please! You can't control me!
I hate you, you fucking witch!
I hate you!
You'd better decide after all.
Yes, I know you love me. I think you mean well.
I know that I must do as you say.
Why must I always have a guilty conscience?
I'll ask for your forgiveness. Forgive me.
I know that I've clone wrong.
I always do wrong.
I'm Grandma's little girl.
Grandma's little darling.
We can talk about everything.
Everything is safe and sound with Grandma.
If you lock me in the closet I'll die.
I'll be good if only you don't lock me in the closet.
Please, Grandma, please.
I ask you for forgiveness.
I can't live if I have to be locked in the closet.
Can you imagine shutting up a child who's afraid of the dark in a closet?
Isn't it astonishing? - Yes, it is.
Do you think I'm emotionally crippled for life?
Do you think we're a vast army of emotionally crippled wretches,
wandering about calling to each other
with words which we don't understand
and which only make us even more afraid?
I don't know.
There is an incantation for us who don't believe.
What do you mean?
Sometimes I say it to myself quietly.
Can you tell it to me?
I wish that someone or something will affect me,
so that I can become real.
I repeat over and over, may I some day become real.
What do you mean by real?
To hear a human voice and trust that
it comes from a human who is made like me...
to touch a pair of lips
and at the same time know that it is a pair of lips.
Not to have to live through the hideous moment needed for my experience to check
that I've really felt a pair of lips.
Reality would be to know that a joy is a joy
and above all that a pain has to be a pain.
I do not know.
Reality is perhaps not at all what I imagine.
Perhaps it doesn't exist, in fact.
Perhaps it only exists as a longing.
Sorry to disturb you... - It's the middle of the night.
The middle of the night? - My clock shows 04:05.
In the infirmary, it's 08:05.
But it's Tuesday? - That's right.
Dr. Isaksson's daughter is out there. She wants to see her mother.
I want to talk to her, but not here.
Could we sit in the visitor's room?
Of course. An old lady has been making herself at home there, but she's gone for a walk.
I must clean up a little.
I think we can send Mrs. Isaksson home today, if she wants to.
Shouldn't we contact Dr. Wankel? - I don't think that's necessary.
Maybe you'd like a breakfast tray in the waiting room?
Your daughter might want a cup of coffee?
Thank you.
Will I see you?
That would be nice. But it might take some time. - Why is that?
I'm going to Jamaica.
You didn't say a word. - I forgot to tell you.
I'll have to manage on my own...
I'm the one who'll have to manage on his own.
I might come with you.
No thanks. - What will you do in Jamaica?
I've heard that you can live amorally in Jamaica.
Will you come back? - I can't promise you that.
Goodbye Tomas. - Goodbye.
Take care of yourself...
and those who are fond of you.
Hi, Mama.
Daddy called and said you were ill, so I thought I'd come and visit you
though he said I shouldn't. - Did he say why I'm here?
He said that you were ill and taken to the hospital by ambulance.
Not the reason? - No.
Here you are. - Thank you.
Should I close the door? - Yes. Let's sit down.
Would you like some? - No.
No thanks.
This won't be easy...
Not for you nor for me.
I did something very stupid.
I tried to commit suicide.
It's difficult to explain.
Now you might get the idea that,
I don't like you, or Daddy.
But you mustn't.
I like you most of all people.
You and Grandma. And Daddy.
Have you never done anything suddenly without knowing why?
I guess.
You must try to forgive me.
I don't understand.
Are you going back to the riding camp?
The train leaves in an hour.
Do you have enough money? - Yes.
Are you all having a nice time? - Kind of.
Say hello to Lena and Karin.
Are you coming home on Friday? - Yes.
Couldn't we have dinner together? You and me.
You pass by here on the way to Skane.
You get to town in the afternoon and your train doesn't leave until ten in the evening.
We could have dinner and go to the movies.
Wouldn't that be nice?
Mama...
Will you do this again?
No.
How do I know? - You'll have to trust what I say.
But do you know what you're saying? - Yes. I think so.
But you're not sure?
Just what are you getting at?
Don't you understand anything?
You've never liked me anyway.
And that's true.
I have to go now.
Don't worry. I can take care of myself.
Are you feeling better? - Much better.
Why didn't you say anything? - There was nothing to say.
I asked that Dr. Jacobi who called me up
and he said you were under too much strain. - Yes.
And Erik rushing home like that.
But he went back just as fast. - Oh, yes.
When he realised it wasn't so serious.
That it was just strain.
You're tired.
Shall I make the bed, so that you can rest? - No thanks.
But if you're overdoing things you should go away for a while and rest.
It's impossible now.
Erneman isn't coming home for two months.
Then Erik and I might go on vacation.
How are you, Grandma?
This morning Grandpa didn't want to get up.
I nagged and scolded him.
But he just looked unhappy.
It's probably a slight stroke, but you never know with Grandpa.
I called the doctor, you know old Samuelson.
He only said that Grandpa would have to rest for a few days.
And what do you think?
It's hard to say.
In some way... I sense that Grandpa will never get up again.
It is the fatigue that gnaws at him.
That's the way it is.
I've been expecting this for several years.
Yet it feels strange... when it finally happens.
That's the way it is...
I'll go in to see him now.
Won't you eat? - No, thanks.
I've eaten at the hospital. - Well, then come.
I stood at the door for a long time...
looking at the old couple,
and their connection...
I saw their slow movements towards,
the secretive and horrific point where they must part.
I saw their dignity.
Their humility.
For a short moment I realised,
that love surrounds everything.
Even death.
Give me infirmary 11, sister Gunnel.
Good day sister Gunnel. It's Dr.Isaksson.
Yes, thank you. Tell Dr. Wankel that I'll be in
at 7:30 tomorrow as usual. Thank you.
Can't find what you're looking for?
Get subtitles in any language from opensubtitles.com, and translate them here.