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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