Original subtitles

PAIN CONGRESS

- Yes? - The game of patience is too easy now.

I admit it's taken quite some time for me to get to this level.

- But it's too easy now. - Oh dear.

And it hollows out the reward of animated cards cascading down.

I'm not a child after all.

I take it as an invitation to tour the hospital more often.

In the basement as well -

where I might take an interest in the illegal IT goings-on there.

Copy that.

Why hasn't she been admitted yet?

We usually don't admit patients on a printout.

But if the admittance is filed on the Health Platform, we can discuss it.

Diagnosis: somnambulism.

Admitting physician... Santa Claus.

We don't have any Santa here. If only we did.

- Can I see? - Santa Claus!

Somnambulism... interesting.

Never before treated surgically, I'd wager.

Admit the patient. She probably just needs to have her frontal lobes trimmed.

Have you gotten something for somnambulism?

I have this one.

Idiot! I mean medication.

- Oh... no. - You remember nothing in the morning?

Well, I remember spirits.

I'll either fly into a rage -

and chop up your brain during surgery -

or I'll head straight for the shop and buy all their toffee -

which I'll then feed you on a daily basis.

I think Karen will opt for the former.

- No, you mean the latter. - Yes, exactly.

Goddamn Danish brats!

I'm Brisk, your little helper.

All lines are busy. Please press hashtag 9 for other options.

Thank you for your interest in Brisk Parking. Goodbye.

PAIN CONGRESS

Thank you... thanks.

Thank you, thank you.

Welcome to all of you to this year's pain congress at the Kingdom.

Thank you.

All I want to say is that I'm the one to complain to if something is wrong.

And something is often wrong.

I'm the chairman of the committee -

and I've helped arrange all this under the motto:

Pain is your friend.

As per usual I must warn you: free shit.

Do not accept as much as a ballpoint pen from the sponsors.

Yes. But now, I can see that most of you have been here before.

So I'll ask in Danish: Which hall do you prefer?

- Alcohol! - There you go!

There are refreshments in the lobby.

Once admitted, you're our responsibility -

so we have to make sure you don't wander off in your sleep.

I understand. I don't mind at all.

Restraints...

are so exotic.

They're a little tight, but they're meant to be.

It is Camilla, isn't it?

I don't really have time to chat.

I just watched "The Kingdom" on DVD, you see.

I don't know what to say to that.

I don't think anything good came of that show.

Some patients are scared of being at the Kingdom because of it.

But you were here that last night, right?

- I'd really like to hear your story. - Well, not today.

If you want my candid opinion, I think the show was crap.

The director forced us to say all his stupid lines.

I mean can you imagine me saying Grand Duc?

Lars von Trier presents.

The ground underneath the Kingdom is an old swamp.

The bleaching ponds used to be here.

Once, the bleach men rinsed their linens in the shallow water -

to get them bleached.

The vapor enfolded the area in a permanent fog.

Later, the Kingdom was built here -

and the bleach men were replaced with doctors and scientists -

and the country's sharpest minds and impeccable technology.

And to crown the achievement the place was named the Kingdom.

Life would be defined -

and ignorance and superstition would never again challenge science.

Perhaps the arrogance has become too great -

just as the consistent denial of the spiritual -

for it appears, the chill and the damp have returned.

Small marks of fatigue are emerging -

on the otherwise sturdy and modern buildings.

So far, none among the living knows -

but the gate to the Kingdom is opening up once again.

THE KINGDOM

Part 10 The Congress Dances.

Are you following me? Don't!

I'm the one to complain to...

Yoo-hoo!

- Is something wrong? - No, I was just lost in thought.

Have I ever told you about the pear tree on my old street?

- Oh yes. - It's a very educational story.

It bore a wealth of fruit and the following year, nothing.

And then the following year, lo and behold, a wealth of fruit.

- I'm afraid I'm getting off here. - But what I wanted to tell you...

In the crosswords, Grand Duc is always an owl.

Or the Lord of the Flies.

It says so in all my four crossword dictionaries.

Thrilling. This is the alarm string.

Just move your shoulder to pull it, and we'll come running.

Mind-numbing.

You can say that again. Or what do you mean?

It's mind-numbing that again this year -

someone is sabotaging the Christmas decorations.

The little Christmas tree in the lounge has vanished.

My, my, the old restraints.

Please don't despair.

I've slept marvellously in restraints.

So, determination, eh? Courage.

That wasn't all together true, was it?

No, no. But it can be.

Please get another set of restraints -

and a bag of my medium-fine peas in the freezer.

I'm not due back at the congress for another hour. I could do with a nap.

- There. - Please hand me the peas.

- Are they medium-fine? - Mm.

- Are you quite sure about this? - Yes, I'm nice and comfy.

You don't want me to get an alarm?

No, panic is an alien notion to me.

As a doctor, you must be prepared to undergo -

the treatments you subject your patients to. Wake me in half an hour.

Beware of the wrath of Satan.

A rat just abandoned the sinking ship.

Are there many rats?

Yes, but they don't always look like rats.

What about the owl? The big owl?

- What is he after? - He's here to stop Karen.

Only the owl understands why Karen is here.

Isn't she opening the gate to the Kingdom?

Here we go...

I found an old key for the restraints in the basement.

No restraints for you. It's an outdated practice.

No, Bulder. Leave me be.

One should always heed the doctor's advice.

Well, I'm inclined to disagree. You're going up for a scan later.

It seems Naver is very interested in somnambulism.

It's all so exciting.

QUIET WHEN SA

- Sausage and mash. - Sausage and mash.

- Well, sausage and mash. - Sausage and mash.

Foolery.

- Enough. - First time?

- Yes. And the last, I hope. - They all say that... and come back.

Welcome to Swedish Anonymous.

- I think we're all here. - Great.

Hello.

Are you Swedish, too? Goodness!

Volvo, Volvo... All Volvo.

- My name is Bosse, and I'm Swedish. - Hi, Bosse.

I had five years and seven months in Sweden.

Then Denmark called.

Now I work in the kitchen here at the Kingdom -

and every day I try to leave this demonic workplace.

With the help of the group I will succeed.

My hope and my plan is -

to have moved to Malmö by the next meeting.

- Are you all Swedish? - Yes.

Fantastic!

My name is Stig Jr., and I'm Swedish.

Welcome, Stig.

Denmark doesn't appeal to me at all.

Apart from the fact that I came here to...

experience for myself the country, the nation -

that drove my father mad.

I had no idea that the Danes had succeeded -

in building a bridgehead to Sweden.

That they possessed -

the technology...

The arrogance.

That took me by surprise.

Sweden, grant me the serenity -

to accept the things I cannot change -

the courage to change the things I can -

and the wisdom to know the difference.

Mrs. Svendsen!

Mrs. Svendsen, help! Get me out of this crap!

You'll be okay.

I can't open it. Breathe nice and easy, Pontopidan.

- Easy. - Oh, good morning, Halfmer.

Great. You'll be all right.

Good grief!

Fortunately, you hardly ever come across such a relic.

He threatened us.

He knows about us down here.

I've increased the level of difficulty. Minimally.

Pass the parcel, eh?

Kalle, the game is much too hard now.

And I'm not touching that ridiculous jigsaw puzzle.

There's no picture on the lid. I'm at my wits' end.

We have nothing to do with that puzzle.

Have a seat.

I'm bilingual and have lived in Denmark, but I live in Sweden now -

and take the bridge to work.

The bridge is Swedish, but the tunnel to the bridge is Danish.

It was wonderful to see you in the group.

I do hope you felt welcome.

It's good to have you here. We need a strong man now.

I need a strong man.

CONSENT

"I, Anna Gram -

hereby give my consent to Helmer Jr. directing -

a pat on my backside."

Was it the left or right cheek -

the professor had in mind?

Well...

Both, if possible?

And I must emphasize just a moderate slap.

- You'll hear from my lawyer. - Of course.

But your finger on my wrist, wasn't that ...?

Well, that's how we in the group recognize each other outside the meeting room.

I thought you should know.

I'm Brisk, your little helper.

Press a number between 0 and 9 to identify yourself.

You pressed 5 to cancel current relationship with parking in garage.

Press a number between 0 and 9 to accept.

Thank you for your interest in Brisk Parking. Goodbye.

Can we meet?

This is the wrong floor.

- Excuse me, what are you doing? - The plaster keeps falling off.

But it's little Judith.

Judith is my name, yes.

Everyone at the Kingdom seems to be on their toes today.

You're a cardiologist now.

I had to get away from Neurosurgical.

After everything that happened there.

Åge Krüger!

Give me back my child!

Pardon me for being direct -

but do you know -

what happened to your son?

He died. That's all I remember from that night.

It was 25 years ago and yet I sense him behind these walls.

I think he makes the plaster fall off.

So you know he's alive?

My heart tells me never to give up.

If I say water... what springs to mind?

Do you mean the bleaching ponds?

The bleaching ponds! Of course.

- Thank you, Judith. - No parking here. Idiots.

We help each other in the group. You should know that.

Thank you. Everything's fine. What did you want?

I found some info on your dad, but I can dig deeper if you want.

- What do you know about Dad? - He died in 1997.

- What from? - I haven't been able to find out.

His place of residence was with Rigmor Mortensen, anesthesiologist.

Where is she now?

- I can find out. - Please do.

Can you fix me a parking space? I was promised free parking.

My powers are great, but fixing a space in the Kingdom's half-empty garage -

has yet to be accomplished by any of us.

- Brisk Parking is an IT fortress. - Danish...

Very Danish.

Fire away.

How do you feel about Skejby getting the proton accelerator?

I'll only talk about the pain congress.

Does it pain you, then, that Skejby got the proton accelerator?

There are three words starting with an S that I refuse to hear at this hospital.

The first is Skejby. The next is proton accelerator.

And the third...

Well, I forgot.

Proton accelerator doesn't start with an S.

No... and that only makes matters worse. But...

We have appointed a fast-working task force.

We've just appointed a fast-working task force.

- To what end? - Well, to...

To find out what caused this misunderstanding, I suppose.

Good friends.

However, the Director of Skejby and I are good friends.

We went to school together.

- You have a question? - Do you really need a host of deputies?

We've just appointed a fast-working task force to pinpoint any redundancies.

Maybe you are redundant.

Good question.

That's a good question.

A very good question, in fact. But...

We have...

believe it or not, appointed a fast-working task force -

to look into that.

How many task forces do you want?!

We could also appoint a slow-working task force to see -

if we need all the fast-working ones.

- I am the visible hospital leadership. - I never saw you before.

- Me neither, and I cover health issues. - That will be all.

There...

- Ready? - Yes.

Okay. You'll get 50 volts for 1 second.

And... shock.

Nothing. 50 for 2. How about 50 for 2 seconds?

Okay, let's go. Shock.

100.1 second.

100 for 1 second, are you up for that?

Okay. Shock.

Oh fuck!

Let's get her out.

- There... are you okay? - Yes.

- Anything? - No match.

Excuse me. I'm waiting for my scan.

- I find this fascinating. - We're doing pain research.

Oh right. The pain congress.

- Yes. - What a crowd.

We aren't distinguished enough for the official program -

but we have achieved results far superior to theirs -

and the word seems to have spread.

- So pain is your friend? - Friend or enemy is irrelevant to us.

We deal with the relation to the cosmos.

The old radio-wave scientists believed white noise was an echo of the Big Bang.

We're certain they were wrong. We believe -

we can prove that white noise comes from the Big Scream.

- The Big Scream being ...? - Millions of years' accumulated pain.

All life on earth is defined by some sort of pain -

so the Big Scream is yours and mine -

but especially countless universes' death rattle.

White noise is the communication of this death rattle.

- All we need is a match. - A match?

Similar graphic patterns from a scanned test subject in pain -

and the white dots' dance or white noise.

- And the test subjects? - All volunteers.

She quite enjoys the high doses.

She says she transcends and has visions.

- Visions? - Yes.

If you can use someone like me -

then I'm game.

- Seriously? - Yes.

Well, thank you.

- Pain is your friend. - They mock.

They speak of a pain they themselves have never felt.

Do they?

The pain that clings to every brick in the buildings.

- But is pain really my friend? - It brings you to the doctors.

SWEDISH LAWYER

Hello?

Welcome.

Have a seat.

My father met with your father in regard to a similar dispute many years ago.

My father was a giant, wasn't he?

In which way?

Both professionally and intellectually.

Charismatic.

Well, let's skip the puerilities and get down to business.

Yes...

Her lawyer wants to settle -

and demands a ludicrous sum.

Jesus and Maria!

Tell me your version of the episode.

She was very forthcoming.

Infatuated, even.

We were alone in my office.

Yes, the situation is very clear to me. She begged you to touch her, didn't she?

Yes...

That's why I wrote the email.

To avoid any misunderstandings about her motive.

You acted honorably and I commend you for it.

She invited me...

by leaning over -

and throwing open her coat.

In short, she exposed herself.

At least partially.

And then she asks me -

what kind of...

intentions I have in regard to said body part.

Very interesting.

Let me stress -

that I never laid a finger on her.

- I want to stress that. - Of course.

You are a gentleman.

Yes, and a feminist at that!

We both are. Proud feminists!

I wrote this email to avoid any misunderstanding -

and she now uses my email as evidence -

that I harassed her. I don't understand.

You acted like a man. And even more importantly:

- Like a Swedish man. - Yes!

- Honorably. - A Swedish man!

However, you may also have acted like another man -

who grabbed the girl and took full advantage of her obligingness.

Full intercourse.

Or perhaps even one-word-against-the-other rape.

That is a crime of a different caliber -

carrying a much more severe punishment.

Which might be preferable in this situation.

I don't understand. What do you mean?

Like I always say in this festering country:

A crime is nothing in itself, but evidence -

that you promptly sent to your opponent's phone is a different matter.

In doing that, you reveal your, what some might call -

baser instincts, which just might find their way onto the internet.

- What is your advice? - Pay up.

- Did you see the amount? - The amount is irrelevant.

If we appeal, your opponent will appeal, because the outcome is in their favour.

And I say that with complete certainty as I am also her lawyer.

What?

Swedish lawyers don't grow on trees down here.

My advice as a countryman and a man is to pay up. Thank you.

OCCUPIED

- Ready? - Yes.

Shock.

What the hell is this? Are you insane?

Are you trying to kill her? Stop it!

Leave. Go away.

Somebody tampered with the potentiometer.

Damn! This is what I call unethical research.

I'll either report this to the authorities -

or I'll buy premium-quality, soft duvets and pillows -

gently place all med students on them and then sing them a lullaby.

- We got our first match. - What's that?

- We got our first match. - What does that prove?

That the cosmos is filled with pain that it tries in vain to communicate.

That's the worst load of baloney I ever heard.

Make sure that Karen Svensson is scanned according to procedure from now on.

Primum non nocere.

Bah!

- "First of all, do no harm". - Is that what the doctor said?

Yes, that's what all doctors say. It's an oath.

But it's a lie.

You can't make an omelet without breaking eggs.

You are no. 436 in the queue. Thank you for your interest in Brisk...

Oh, shame on you.

There's no shame in touching oneself -

and feeling sincere and genuine pride in one's country.

- Hey! It's the Swedish Sing-Along. - Sounds more like a Third Reich anthem.

- Did you want something? - Yes, this is the third IKEA reminder.

- Please pay. - Yes, I'll see to it.

There's news about Dad.

Dad? Dad!

Kalle told me that one of your dad's former staff is currently admitted here.

- Is it Naver? - No, this is Professor Helmer Jr.

- Or Naver disguising his voice. - Spare me your idiosyncrasies.

Will the Chief Physician please open the door -

so that we can have a more dignified conversation?

Just a moment.

It would be so like Naver to use a scary voice when he's on the war path.

Or do the eye thing. I hate that.

Whatever happened to the "Open Doors Policy"?

I'll chalk that up to national differences.

The door is perfectly passable from the inside. Perspective, Halfmer.

My name is not Halfmer.

I came to ask you -

about a former staff member at Neurosurgical -

who is admitted here now.

The Elevator Goblin. Rigmor Mortensen, a colleague of your dad's back then.

Don't bother looking in her bed. She haunts the elevators.

When you hear her "yoo-hoo", you're in for it.

The Christmas speech!

Yoo-hoo.

Yoo-hoo.

Excuse me... be quiet.

Yoo-hoo!

Yoo-hoo!

Pardon me.

Yoo-hoo!

Look, your father moved in with me after the great failure.

The power failure.

He lay down on my couch and stared into the wall for three days.

- And then he died. - Like a Viking.

Like an old Viking who knew what he had achieved.

Who knew what he was destined for. Dad was...

strong-willed. He was determined.

You can say that again. He wanted to be buried in his Volvo.

Exactly.

Dad was a bel esprit. Where is he buried?

In Greve.

Greve, a small town outside Copenhagen.

- And the Volvo? - Well...

- I had him cremated and interred... - Without the Volvo?

I couldn't afford it. Besides, I was furious with him, the bigamist.

It would have been a punch in the face of all those -

who denigrated him and his genius.

But instead it was just so...

- Shabby. - Well, I wouldn't say that.

I tried to make the funeral as Swedish as possible.

Tell me, did he leave anything behind?

Yes. Lucky you.

I'm rather lazy, you see -

so the past 20 years, I haven't cleared out his hospital locker.

So if you want a peak, go ahead.

Well, I have to get on.

Bah! What the hell's keeping you?

I have two operations. A Norwegian, Keld Svensson, and Karen Svensson.

The Norwegian needs deep brain stimulation for his epilepsy.

Major surgery, so I need your assistance.

And then Karen Svensson is to have a frontal resection for her somnambulism.

For somnambulism? Is that standard procedure at this hospital?

Yes, where else? Come on. We'll take the Norwegian first.

In all confidentiality...

Naver is performing nothing less than... Hello.

a trophy operation.

He lives and breathes for the visionary but at times far too risky procedures.

I can't recommend any of the operations. None of them.

But you didn't hear it from me.

Hello.

They want the first patient now.

How about the medical record?

Pontopidan advises against the operation.

He does come off as a cowardy custard.

I'm lying in a river called the Kingdom.

I'm just going with the flow.

Hi, I'm Anna, and I'm a neuropsychologist.

Fascinating.

It's a little service we offer here. I'll talk to you during the operation.

I'll ask if you feel this and that and ask you to say this and that.

Can I go to sleep now? I sense I'm going on a long journey.

Of course.

I'll leave my number under the blanket in case you have questions afterwards.

- Mr. Svensson has severe epilepsy. - Hir, if you please.

Sweden just might, in this case, be wiser than Denmark.

Right.

You're aware that the operation will be performed under local anesthesia?

Hello... K. Svensson, are you there?

And Satan is here.

Wow!

Go easy on the propofol. I think K. Svensson's had plenty.

What makes you think that, K. Svensson?

The green light is lit.

- What green light? - The green light in the ceiling is lit.

Enough of this nonsense. There's too much Danish nonsense.

Scalpel.

Spreader.

Bipolar.

- Should I turn up the bipolar? - To 20, please.

- Hir is asleep now. - Should we wake hir?

Hell no. Only if we need a response.

I'm puzzled by the surgical procedure.

You again? I've said I don't want to operate with that woman. With hir.

Are you sure this isn't the wrong surgery?

There's no such thing as wrong surgery, only wrong neuropsychologists.

So shut up and do your job. Leave the surgery to us.

Satan... rules.

The patient has bradycardia. Stop.

No, administer atropine. Administer 0.5 mg.

- Wait. - 0.5 mg atropine administered.

Cardiac arrest. Remove frame.

- Karina, start chest compressions. - Starting CPR.

Put out the call. Get the defibrillator in here.

Start ventilator.

Who's keeping track of the time?

3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9...

Charging. Stand clear.

- One more time and Cordarone. - Who's on that?

Good. It's time for a rhythm check.

Check pulse.

- We have a sinus rhythm. - We have a pulse.

- Okay, all's well. - Hir is breathing.

Right.

We want to communicate with the patient. We are inside the motor cortex.

Good morning, K. Svensson.

We almost lost you. Squeeze my hand if you can feel and move your toes.

Hir is nodding. Hir is squeezing my hand.

Hand me electrode B.

Squeeze harder and say: Tata kaka papa.

- Tata kaka papa! - Again.

- Tata kaka papa! - Again.

- Tata kaka papa! - No, this is infuriating!

Is it Danish to say, "tata kaka papa"?! Is that a Danish custom?

We don't practice that at Karolinska, I'm damned proud to say!

All done. Please close the patient.

Halfmer. With this remote -

hir, or K. Svensson, can under close supervision control the electrodes.

It looks cheap but it's state-of-the-art.

Please lock it in the medicine cabinet.

It's only to be used with laboratory caution!

Bah.

Take her back.

Are you okay?

- I was right. - You were?

Take me to recovery so I can sleep.

- Then I'll find the paternoster. - It's shut down.

Shut down... There's nothing shut that can't be opened.

Dance away the pain!

Neuropsychologist Anna.

Karen!

- Karen... - Sit her up.

Mind the box.

On her side.

Right.

- Hello. - Hello. My name is Keld.

You're not Karen Svensson. So who did we just operate on?

Another K. Svensson, but a lady. I talked to her beforehand.

- But it was the wrong operation. - Yes, that's what I thought, but...

I'll either invite you all to the best restaurant in town -

and treat you to the most expensive food and drink money can buy -

or I'll fucking crack open Halfmer's scull with a cleaver!

Halfmer!

- Have you seen Halfmer? - No.

Halfmer!

Dad!

GREVE CEMETERY

How nice.

Halfmer!

Halfmer!

Halfmer! Halfmer!

Halfmer! It was the wrong operation!

K. Svensson!

But what am I supposed to see?

What's right in front of you, like always.

A paternoster is like a goods lift.

It goes around the whole system, all the buildings, and comes back.

All right!

Scared...

We grownups get scared too and sing long, scared songs like you.

You're scared.

I'm just excited.

You're scared.

CEMETERY

DO NOT TOUCH

GRAVE OF THE UNKNOWN

When it rains on the priest, it pours on the bell ringer.

- The plates have piled up. - Relax.

You and I won't grow old. Not old enough for all these dishes.

So should we just leave them?

- Whoops. - It doesn't matter.

When the Kingdom faces the big washing-up, there's nothing to be done.

I tried to make the funeral as Swedish as I could.

What the hell did the old hag mean?!

Tetra Pak!

Dad!

Dad!

Dearest Betula. With you I am home.

And now the greatest is in the most fragile.

Dad's final gestalt.

You... embrace everything.

Little Helmer's school milk.

At its best, served in a cup...

by Dad.

Thank you, Tetra Pak.

Thank you, birch.

Thank you, Sweden.

Danish scum!

Why doesn't it show up on the radar?

It's strange.

We're suckers just standing here while our airspace is violated over and over.

Why, isn't that...

Call here to hir and hir and hir will come here -

but hir and hir have no boyfriend or girlfriend, only hir.

The puritan beast is just around the corner, we might say.

Do call us to order, big brother land for our shenanigans -

although they do seem befitting twixt granite and limestone -

twixt big and small, twixt mountain and valley -

twixt wise and bogus, twixt Big and Little Brother.

Shenanigans are like mosquitoes you can smack.

But listen, it's still buzzing in the dark. Perhaps more than before.

For the shenanigans are many and will never allow themselves to be wiped out.

So between friends, we must bear a bite or two -

and the itch is unpleasant but not dangerous.

So again, to any nation that might feel offended on any side of the Sound -

I say for the lack of any other excuse than being Lars von Trier -

remain prepared to take the good with the evil.