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Klimt, 2006

Uncle Jonathan...

Come and join me.

Let's have some fun for a change.

Bible?

Bible?

Thank you, very much.

Bible?

No sir, it's no monster.

It's a hybrid.

The head came from
the Russian front - 1915.

The arms are Viennese - 1917.

The hips are French.

This leg is Romanian
and that one Serbian - 1916.

- Times are hard.
- True.

Yet surely the one thing there's
no shortage of at the moment is corpses?

For sure, sir.

- Herr Schiele?
- Yes?

If you'd care to follow me.

One, Two,
One Two...

Herr Schiele. This way.

There's no one here?

They've all gone.

Really?

- Even Midi?
- Even Fraulein Floge.

Gustav?

Gustav, it's me.

Flowers.

How terrible...

Because of the weather they've decided to
cancel the Primavesis mascarade ball.

Okay.

That's enough for today.

But come on down. There's some food
and drink in the kitchen, thank you.

Thanks. Thank you, Herr Klimt.

I would work longer but I have
an appointment - thanks for today.

What about you?

What about me?

- Keisermelange.
- Franziskaner.

Bring me the usual.

- A tafelspitz.
- As usual.

- Gugelhupf.
- As usual.

- Maria Theresa Cafe
- As usual.

- Melange... Kaisermelange.
- As usual.

- What a rumpus.
- What's going on?

A reconciliation dinner

between Herr Jodl's supporters
and Herr Wickhoff's supporters.

And of course the members of the Academy.
Those you know well Herr Klimt.

Yes, but to me they all sound alike.

As though they were farting
through trumpets.

- How do you tell them apart?
- Easy...

In spite of his name Herr Jodl

believes that there exists a single
and unique form of aesthetic beauty.

Does he now?

In his view form is of no significance
as long as there is beauty.

Herr Vickhoff on the other hand argues
that every era has its own concept of beauty.

A concept that changes
as the era changes.

For him nothing is ugly.
It just depends on the era.

And the Academicians?

They believe that when Herr Raphael died,
beauty died along with him.

But is was all good clean fun,
that is until Herr Loos turned up.

Here is Klimt
a modern ornamentalist.

A real pathological case.

He never stops switching styles.

- What do you propose instead?
- Read my articles.

Forget it.

Look at this mirror.
I mean look at it, not into it.

What purpose does it serve?

To adjust one's hat,
one's cravatte, one's lipstick...

Which let me remind
you are all ornaments.

Now look at the gold frame.
What purpose does it serve?

I'll tell you. It serves to give work?

- pointless, unproductive work
- to craftsmen.

That's exactly what I'm talking about.

The frame is useless,
therefore inexpressive.

The mirror is useful
therefore functional.

Therefore expressive
and therefore beautiful.

What you were just saying is
merely ornamental.

Therefore it's useless and
therefore it's ugly.

However this cake has allowed
me to shut your mouth.

Therefore it's useful it's expressive,
and above all it's beautiful.

You, Herr Klimt, I forgive.

And you know why I forgive you?

Because at least your paintings
are sexual, as all art should be.

The crucifixion for example.

Now what could be more
sexual than the crucifixion?

Excuse me.

I'm sorry.

Sorry I'm so late.
I've just come from the ministry.

Hartel?

Yes.

So what does the minister
have to say for himself.

He must still be in a state
of shock I suppose.

He's not the worst you know?

So will there be a scandal or not?

Maybe not.

Really?

The minister said that for the
moment he supports Klimt.

After Paris, who knows?

If all goes well there'll be no scandal.

So it all depends on the
judgement of Paris...

God, that's pathetic.

Speaking of Paris, have you packed?

My mother will take care of that for me.

Naturally.

Everyone's here.
Even Jodl.

That fellow deserves
to have his face smashed in.

But he's with Wickhoff.
I thought they couldn't stand each other.

Do you know what Jodl said?

We are not against the nude art.
We are not against free art.

But we are against hideous art.

And he is sitting right over here
under out noses.

I feel like smashing his face in.

No, no, no.
You'll do nothing of the sort.

And our good friend, Klimt...

- What is he thinking of doing?
- Nothing.

- Klimt is drinking his coffee.
- Oh, leave them alone.

Where are you going?

To vomit.

I'm going to vomit.

Herr Klimt.

Herr Klimt.

If all goes well in Paris.

Herr Klimt.

- Flowers.
- What?

Flowers.

A broken mirror.

Well,I must say the twentieth
century's off to a good start.

A whole century of bad luck.

What's going on?

You're famous. Didn't you know?

It can happen to anyone after all.

No, I'm joking.

No, I was talking about the mirror

I was standing in front of and then someone
asked me how I was enjoying Paris.

And I said something or the other.

And the mirror shattered.

What really happened?

I spoke to Klimt and asked him
whether he missed Vienna.

He said not Vienna, but the flowers.

When he said flowers
the mirror shattered.

Le tout Paris.

There's Rodin. So he came after all.

And Mucha and Herr Stuck

I need a glass of water.

You again.

Oh. you know me.
I am flattered.

Usually no-one knows civil servants.
At least not the minor ones.

Allow me to introduce myself.

Secretary to the consular service
of the Austrian embassy.

Third secretary.

In perpetuity.

At my age one learns
to forget all about promotion.

Honoured never the less
to make your acquaintance.

I'm a great admirer of yours.

Burgtheater.
What an astounding achievement.

It's a fucking wedding cake
made of shit!

Yes, I had heard that your language was
a little... shall we say, on the salty side

It's the only language I know.

Not true, I'm sure.

But I wouldn't dream of
contradicting an artist.

Or perhaps you're just one of those
people who actually likes wedding cakes.

Well you say that with contempt,

But after-all it's wedding cakes that follow
monuments, not the other way round.

I need a glass of water.

Where did you get to?

Everyone's looking for you.
The minister's there.

They're all there but you.

I have the distinct impression Herr Klimt is
unaware of what awaits him.

Austria my dear Herr Klimt.

Austria has been honoured.
You've won the gold medal.

I knew it.

Oh, shit!

Really Herr Klimt,
you exaggerate.

Herr Klimt.

You don't know me...
or rather you don't regognise me

I am... I was the daughter
of your housekeeper

I was in love with you as a child.

It was I who opened the door to you the time
you forgot the keys to your apartment.

It was I who ran after you
when you went for a walk to the prater.

It is I... it was I that was the mother
of your son Andreas.

Ladies and Gentlemen.!

Attention please.

I would like to announce a great surprise
from the management of the Exposition.

Gustav Klimt meets
Lea De Castro

Mesdames, Messieurs, would you please
now welcome the great magician

Monsieur Melies
and his two very talented actors.

You're not offended I hope?

Offended?
No. On the contrary.

Did you enjoy the film?

I thought it was remarkable
my congratulations.

It's Monsieur Melies
you should congratulate.

Monsieur Melies a great honour.

A mere trifle.
We cobbled it together last week.

How did you like Lea?

She could charm the birds
out of the trees.

I hope you'll agree to paint my portrait.

Yes, I would love to.

Tell me, what do you think of Lea?

She could charm
the trees themselves.

If you like this one
you'll like the real Lea even better.

Pardon?

Don't worry Monsieur Klimt. The real one is
not nearly as real as the false one.

You like her don't you?

Yes, you do like her.

You always said you cannot work
without a model within arm's reach,

if I can put it like that.

Yet all of a sudden
you can draw her by heart.

By heart.

Well, well.

Little Gustl speaks French.

What a surprise!

No, Midi.

No, not you.

You're beautiful but...

But what?

Message for Mister Klimt.

Sign here, please.

- Is it from her?
- It's from someone.

A rendez-vous. Tonight?

I'm to meet someone downstairs.

In Vienna they're expecting you.

I know that too.

You're going to stay
on in Paris, aren't you?

I don't know.

Gustl, I leave tomorrow.

Without me.

I've got to go the boutique.

Speaking of which, have I
shown you my latest models?

No, I'd like to see them.

Gustl... you will
tell me everything?

Promise.

Every detail?

Every.

- What? You!
- At your service.

You'll have to excuse me, I'm on
my way to a romantic assignation.

The carriage is outside.

- Just who are you?
- Your humble servant.

I don't need a servant.

Do you know what they call Paris?

The new Babylon.

It's a beguiling city
but a dangerous one.

I see. So you're going to
chaperone me, I suppose.

What if it's the other way round?

I have my resources.

- Was it the embassy that sent you?
- No.

The person who's message
you've just received.

- The false Lea.
- False, true, does it really matter?

Okay Gaston.
We're ready.

Right away, Monsieur.

Actually,
I wear several different hats.

At the Cultural section of the embassy
we're modestly re-numerated.

But I get by.

Lea, the false Lea
is she wealthy?

The false one, no.
The real one, yes.

She has a wealthy sugar-daddy.

A sugar daddy!
Naturally!

Here we are.

I see I'm leaving you in good hands.

- Have fun.
- You're abandoning me?

Mission accomplished.

Monsieur,
if you would kindly follow me.

Sir, may I ask what all this is about?

Sir!

Sir, may I ask what all this is about?

Sir?

Sir, I asked you a question.

I am not permitted to say anything, sir.

I'm sorry.

- You.
- Yes, it's me.

They told me you're one of those men
who like their women naked.

It isn't always the case you know?

Here in France,
nudite is no longer 'comme il faut'.

Whiskey?

At the moment whiskey
is all the rage in Paris.

But then as you know 'the rage'
changes so quickly in this city.

Six months ago it was port
with a splash of bitters.

And last year,
it was strawberries and champagne.

But that's enough gossip.

Shall we get down to business?

You said publicly, that you'd be
delighted to paint my portrait.

I can scarcely believe it.

Believe it mademoiselle.
Believe it.

What do you think?

The Duke Wolff Helenia adores it.

Who?

A friend.

A very dear friend.

Let's say an intimate friend.

And he's in Paris just at the moment.

Who knows?

The Duke is a globe - trotter.

Don't you 'trot the globe' with him?

Sometimes I do. Sometimes I don't.

By nature, he's an artist.

An artist who just happens
not to possess any talent.

So instead of painting me himself

he commissions
other talented artists to do it for him.

I see.

You haven't told me yet what you
think of this Whistler.

If it weren't amusing it
would be laughable.

You have a cruel streak.

I like the cruelty of artists.

It tends to leave
a bitter sweet after-taste.

And it mixes well with your sweat.

Funny there's the smell
of horses about you.

But I also detect a hint of apples, non?

How impatient you are!

Don't tell me
you've got another appointment.

No. No.

I love you.

What?
Love at first sight?

Yes. Yes.

Be careful. Love at first sight
doesn't always survive the second.

Heavens we're carrying on
like a pair of bumpkins.

But I personally prefer to make love
as it were through the proper channels.

You can't deny he's got allure.

I'd call it a nerve.

She's not bad.

She's not bad at all.

You think so?

I find her a bit stiff.

Well, don't forget, it's not so easy.

He's certainly a fast worker.

Is he of peasant stock?

I've no idea.

My dear I fear
it's your turn now. Go.

Go, go, go.

I do hope I didn't keep you waiting.

No, on the contrary.

But I do wonder how you changed
your hair style so quickly.

Unless of course...

You're not the real one.

Men!
Why do you always need proof?

Always need evidence.

It isn't you, is it?

What isn't me?

Lea.

Lea.

Lea De Castro.

Don't tell me you've been talking to
that poor little girl who pretends to be me.

I've been told you watched
the film she's in.

Is she any good?

Do you believe me now.

I believe.

I gather you made a promise
to paint my portrait.

Then I'll expect you to keep it.

Actually I shall want two portraits.

One in which I'm clothed.

And the other in which I'm stark naked.

Or stark nude.

It seemed to me
that only someone like you

would be capable
of painting me clothed

in such a way that people
would think I was naked.

And painting me naked
in such a way

that people wouldn't see
my nakedness at all but...

...well, something else.

What else?

So how long will it take you...?

A week?

Two weeks?

At the moment
I really can't give you too much time.

Two weeks isn't nearly long enough.

We could start tomorrow.

What you did is very beautiful.

Very beautiful.

And very strange.

The man does have courage,
I'll give him that.

Easy if you're well paid.

Oh no,
you can see he really worked.

And that's all he's got to show for it?

Well, you can't make an omelette
without breaking eggs.

What he does is break eggs
without making an omelette.

...Herr Klimt

Herr Minister. What do you think?

Oh, I...

I find it all very aback-taking.

Yes. Indeed this is the word;
aback-taking.

But we'll talk about it later.

We'll have a long chat about
it just the two of us.

What's the difference between
a caricature and an allegory?

According to Herr Klimt
there isn't any difference.

What do you say, Professor?

I would argue rather that if there is abuse
it is not of antichrony but of antipopeics.

Honourable Secretary.

Second secretary...
Since last week.

As the French say, 'Ca s'arrose'.

Ca s'arrose.
Your good health.

And yours.

Not everyone's happy.

Most of them are furious.

Not me. But then I live in Paris.

There your work would be regarded as poetic.
Charmingly poetic. Here it's decadent.

I wish I were in Paris.

Don't delude yourself.

Here decadent is synonymous
with diabolical.

In Paris it just means naughty.

You know Herr Klimt...
I've been around.

And I can assure you it's a triumph.

It's a triumph that may feel at the
moment very much like a defeat.

But it's a triumph never-the-less.

Have you seen Lea?

She's worried about the painting.

- Is it progressing?
- I haven't had time.

I see. Well...

She's waiting for you
to get in touch with her.

And she's quite willing to come to you.

Just as soon as the portrait is finished.

It's not a portrait. It's an allegory.

I fear that's going to be an unpleasant
surprise for Mademoiselle de Castro.

What do you think of my allegories?

Yet another abrupt change of subject?

I think they're poetic. Charmingly poetic.

Thank you.

Klimt, I've been looking for you.

What do you think?

What do I think?

I think it's beautiful.
Sublime, revolutionary.

But that's not what I've come
to talk to you about.

I've been hearing from my informants
that you have problems

big problems.

Your paintings are likely to be rejected.

There is even talk of a scandal.

Two scandals-because
I'm going to take them back.

Steal the paintings?

That doesn't make sense.
They are no longer yours.

They were once and they will be again.

You're really going
to get into trouble, you know.

In any event. Whatever happens,
you have my support.

Berta, Berta Zuckerkandl.

I was looking for you.

Excuse me, please.

Many apologies, but I have got to go.

So, you need to hear
what I've just heard.

Two hundred signatures.

Each ornament is in itself
a form of expression.

And the expression itself...

Frau Zuckerkandl's a
very powerful woman.

Congratulations. This means
the press is going to get behind you.

You're saved.

You think so?

Our dear Academicians
have a very short memory.

Alas for them, but good for you.

For they're going
to attack you on every front.

Which I have to tell you
is also a good sign.

The Academy loathes you

but Herr Kraus for his part abominates
both you and the Academy.

The philistines will be up in arms,

then Herr Loos will counter attack by
saying that they're the real scandal.

And with any luck you'll find yourself
in the middle of the most god-awful stink...

I repeat, congratulations.

Tell Lea I am coming to see her soon.

Change of subject.

Actually I don't believe
she's in Paris at the moment.

Gustav? Gustl, are you
talking to yourself?

No... No, I was talking to someone.

Well the minister's furious.

So am I.

He has changed sides
for the moment he is...

he is against us.

So what?

Gustl, you are not making things easy.

I'm sorry.

The exhibition was it a success?

Well, if you measure
the success of such an event

by the number of visitors
who remember to take their hats off...

I'd say it was a disaster.

No, no, no. No, no, stop it.

No, Let me.. let me go.

Stop.

We'll redeem Austria.

Klimt. Klimt.

Hartel.

You are the only one.

The only one who has
any reason to complain.

All those Jodl's, those Loos's are...

- One moment! We are the police...
- what... a bunch of...

Herr Minister...
why don't we accompany you home?

- Out of the question.
- Come on.

I'll stay with my friend Klimt.

Why didn't I put up a fight for you?

Come on my old friend,
let's have one for the road.

I know a place not...
not far from here.

Oh, Your Excellency,
what an honour.

We saw that the light was on and so we
decided to come up and say good evening.

A wonderful idea.

Ah Herr Klimt, we haven't
seen you for quite some time.

Have you reserved?

No, we haven't. I'm afraid
we are unforgivably spur of the moment.

I'm sure we will find something for you.

Although we are rather crowded tonight.

Herr Adler and his friends are
in your habitual salon, Herr Klimt.

And the Russian and the
Thai salons are also occupied.

- How about the Persian salon?
- Oh, I'm afraid the Italians have that.

- But how about the Western Salon?
- No out of the question.

That only leaves the African salon?

That's excellent!

You do know the rules for that salon?

Of course, of course. I love them!

Allegories, Schmallegories,
call them what you please.

But all that nudity...
what were you thinking of?

The history of art is
also the history of nudity.

Alright.
Okay, but there are rules.

Rules of representation...
And you know the rules...

You know what you can show
and what you can't show.

Did you really have to break
every single one?

Did you see the shape?...
The serpent Legeia...

The founder of medicine.

The cycle of life and death.

Yes, but you didn't say anything...

I am a painter.
I am not a fucking critic!

Herr Klimt.

Aren't you going to say good
evening to your daughter?

Good evening, Herr Klimt.

I admire your work.

How do you do?

How is school?

There is no school.

How very you.

- Children all over the place.
- There is Klimt with the minister.

Death to Decadents.

Death to morons!

- Long live the Republic!
- Long live the Balkans!

- Long live the Republic!
- Long live the Balkans!

- Long live the Republic!
- Long live the Balkans!

Long live whores!

Quick...
choose the one you want.

I'm going to stay
with your daughter.

Is she really your daughter?

I suppose she is, I don't know.

I'll have this one
and this one and this one.

I see you four are going to cook up
a nice little allegory together.

Chocolate soldiers are we...

manufactured to celebrate here

your birthday, excellency...

and then prepared to be eaten.

How many have you got?
Five? Six?

More than that, Mama.

If you ask me
he's holding something back.

And all of them with different mothers?

Sometimes I wonder...

Mama, would you pass me a Semmel?

I can see he would rather not answer.

- Mama, these children of mine...
- Yes?

The models are free.

Oh yes,
they're free alright

And I suppose it's just a coincidence
they are all Jewesses?

Yes, Hermine.

That's what I read in the paper,
I didn't make it up.

You don't have to make it up because
the paper already did that for you.

Free, you say?

Mama...

Six... Eight... Ten... What?

There's no point in counting them mama...
Am I right, Gustl?

What are you going to do?

I am going to go
to the studio and paint,

Mama. I am going to paint.

My god, my god.

Thank you both
for a very nice lunch.

Far, far too many children.

Mama...

A child is a gift from God.

Whose god? The Jewish one?

I'll see you both this evening...

Thank you.

What do you want for dinner?

Guess.

We are waiting for an answer.

Stew.

Don't you ever get sick of stew?

Mama... Mama... Mama...

Come...

I have to show you something.

It's me?

So to speak.

And...

Your condition has stabilised.

We should never-the-less
continue with the mercury.

Oh God, must we?
It takes so much out of me.

But my dear fellow, you're an athlete.

Rolf as you know, I have children...
In fact quiet a few...

Is there any risk that they might be...?

That they have been contaminated?

No... Not really

There's always a risk obviously
but it's a fairly small one.

You know half the male population
of this city is syphilitic...

If it weren't you it would be someone else.

I see.

So your work going well?

How is your mother?

Bad.

- Your sister?
- Worse.

You could have them comitted you know?

I'd take care of it all.

No. I should prefer to take care of
them myself, thanks.

Well, well, well Herr Klimt,
here you are again.

Alas my friend, it can't have
escaped your notice

that Vienna isn't
any longer what it was.

In fact it hasn't really been
Vienna for a very long time.

Isn't it odd though,

that when the Minister takes it upon himself to
reduce state subsidies for the arts...

And sometimes eliminates
them all together,

you continue to receive support
from the most unlikely sources.

You were chosen by the chosen

if you'll forgive the pun.

You were elected by the elite...

Sorry, another pun.

You transferred your allegiance
to private enterprise just in time.

The rich bourgeoisie adores you.

And you clearly feel
the same way about them.

I'm beginning to sense our friend doesn't
look at all favourably upon the idea.

You won't sell it?

It isn't finished.

But Klimt,

if we are to believe you not one of
your paintings is finished.

They aren't!

Well, what can I say?

It's your painting and you must decide
what you want to do with it.

We'll talk it over again
some other time, I trust.

But now, what say we take a
little guided tour of the Klimt museum?

It's just simply marvellous.

- Quite, quite remarkable.
- The whole world.

What kind of world would you say?

- Where's Klimt?
- He left as always.

In my opinion Klimt should paint
nothing but landscapes.

I also dreamed of you.

In this dream I was married to
a very, very old musician.

Old and rich, huh?

No. Not rich.

He was a retired coffee house waiter.

Everybody called him the Professor.

Just imagine he locked me
into a huge room...

And every night...

He brought me another man.

And so each night I made love to
an unknown person.

Serena.

Have you been here the whole time?

I think I am going to say,
'I only just arrived'.

- Better that way, no?
- Perhaps...

Listen, if you've come
about your portrait...

I'm afraid I have to confess I haven't done
much work on it since our last sitting.

No. I haven't come about the portrait.

It's something I saw in here
the other day... Quite by chance.

- Do you mind?
- No.

Voila... here it is.

Who is this?

Who is this?

It seems you know very well
who that is.

Oh, Yes?
How do I know?

Intuition.

Yes... Yes, as a matter of fact
I do know.

Lea de Castro...
I see...

Well, I've got to go.

- So soon?
- Yes, so soon.

I'll leave you to your models.

They seem quite terrifyingly naked.

...at times they are.

Amuse yourself.

Work well!

Let's work.

So are you mad at me?

No, you aren't.

Thank you... steady now...

You haven't made
a rendezvous with her?

Turn your face a little...

But no, but no, but no.

Is she still in Paris?

Very still...

Sometimes I wonder
if the real Lea even exists.

Good.

I want to get married.

Are you serious?

No. Well, actually yes and no...

A free marriage.

I've got another piece of news for you.

You've just had a child.

- A daughter.
- What? No!

With who?

Mizzi.

I have a daughter?

Yes.

I have a little daughter.

- Yes!
- That is wonderful news!

Gustl!

Little red riding hood's great grandmother

had a love affair with a wolf...

So her daughter was born...
half wolf and half human.

She became a wolf
when she grew up.

So it was she who swallowed
little Red Riding Hood.

As she did so she sang a song...

From the lambs I prefer the head.

From the humans I prefer their bottom.

The throat is
what I like best of the chickens.

Their calmness is
what I like best with the rabbits.

Mizzi, it's me...

- You want to see her?
- Of course.

She's in there.

No... I won't.

Why not?

I should prefer not
to just at the moment.

- She doesn't bite.
- I'll see her when she's older.

As you wish... Herr Klimt.

What have you got there?

It's just a gift from someone...
in a very poor taste.

A gift from someone
in a very poor taste.

Gustav, I have to talk to your father.

Go and play in the yard!

Come on, Come on.

Herr Klimt.

My father came to see me.

He wanted to talk to me about...

Well... you see he...

He wanted to...

He needs money?

Oh, no... no.

No, it's not about money he...

He would like the children
to be brought up in the Jewish faith.

Fine, so long
as he takes care of it.

- You're not shocked?
- No, why?

- I thought you were a Catholic?
- I'm nothing at all.

But if your father
wants to amuse himself

by putting the fear of God
into his grand children

and you're not against it,
it's fine by me.

- What a relief.
- A relief?

Well I... I wasn't sure
how you would react.

Thank you Herr Klimt...
a thousand, thousand thanks.

Gustl!

Gustav!

Gustl!

I've told you once,
I've told you a thousand times.

Next time you will get more than a slap.

What's he done?

There is something wrong
with that boy.

He prefers to play with a little chink.

- He knows he's forbidden to.
- Why is it forbidden?

Herr Klimt.

I ask you a question.

Well, you know...

We don't know where they come from.

China?

You can be terribly cruel.

Sorry, but I'm going
to have to disturb you.

Not now Midi, please.

You're angry, irritated, sad.

- I'm also late.
- I have to talk to you.

- No, tomorrow.
- You've seen the photographs?

You were followed by a photographer.

You can be seen quite clearly,

There's no doubt it's you sashaying through
Vienna with a painting under your arm.

Dear old Gustl,
stealing his own painting.

What?

Shit!

- I'll pay them back.
- And what will you use for money?

- I've no idea.
- Gustl, Gustl...

I don't give a shit
about those critics...

And the Academics.

They can take their shitty little opinions
and their shitty little theories...

.. and shove them up their shitty,
little assholes...

Oh, my I've never seen
little Gustl so angry.

I care about the people
who buy my work.

And believe me,
I promise you,

those people I'm going to reimburse.

Yes, I'm laughing.

Sorry Gustl.

I'm laughing because I know you
really mean it. That's a joke.

You think it's a joke?

Little Gustl is used to getting his own way.
That's what's so funny.

To tell you the truth Midi.

To tell you the truth
I... I don't know what to do.

Your friends will clean up
after your mess. They usually do.

Thank you, Midi.

...Gustl!

Kissing anywhere but on the lips is
like smoking without inhaling.

I'll keep that in mind.

I have to work.

Don't worry, I'm going.

Ah, non!

Yes!

Where are you?

Or for that matter,
who are you?

I was waiting outside.

Then I met pussy.

So I followed her in here
by the back door.

Why aren't you in Paris?

Paris?

Paris is a long way away.

I note that you haven't asked for
news of Mademoiselle Lea.

Oh, you mean the false Lea?

She's the one you're in love with.

Or am I wrong?

I wouldn't know.

Perhaps they're both false.

Both?

All three of them.
Who can tell?

Duke Wollf Helenia, you know...

He's a Viennese to the tips of
his manicured finger-nails.

He just adores imbroglios.

He adores to set the cat
among the pigeons.

So...

So?

Why don't you go to her
since she's waiting for you.

You said 'she', not 'they'.

I know, tricky isn't it?

Now you must excuse me.

Well, well, well
look who's here.

I was expecting you.

Actually, it wasn't you
I was expecting.

It was him.

Oh hello, hello.

Oh my poor friend.

I can see you're
completely discombobulated.

You have my sympathy.

But come in. Come in.

Please, come in.

Bonsoir, Monsieur.

Bonsoir.

Where is Lea?

There is no one here...

I mean no one but me
and you and your double.

Is there anything I can offer you?

Do make yourselves at home.

This is my home, you know?
It's my studio.

I rent it out from time to time to the Duke
or else to one of his acquaintances.

Or maybe I should say accomplices?

Where is Lea?

Sit down my friend, sit down.
There are chairs for everyone.

Forgive me,
I've a memory like a sieve.

Cheers, good health...

And I can't seem to remember
anything at all about poor Lea.

Wait though.

I have what you might call
mnemotechnical hands.

Why don't we interrogate them?

Now where have
my scissors got to?

You're holding them,
dear Melies.

Ah, yes so I am.
Alright, let's see.

Light.

Lea.

Lea.

It's Idiotic!

It's simply idiotic.

It could be that I am an imbecile...

Idiot means that you are self enclosed,
a prisoner of yourself, of your 'sense data'.

And an imbecile is someone
who has no sense...

What about him?

which can be expressed
in less than three words...

- How can you say that?
- I say it because it's true.

May I join you?

Ah, Schiele. It's you.
Yes please.

They say you've found
a new Chinese style.

Do you have a pencil?

I'll draw the first line
and you draw the next and so on.

Who's winning?

No one.

Who's drawing is this,
yours or mine?

Do you know
what those young people say?

They say that you have
to stand outside of history.

This history is a nightmare.

And that there's absolutely
nothing else to be said about it.

And who are they?

I don't know.
They sound like philosophers.

Except they say philosophy is rubbish.

Yes, of course.

News ladies and gentleman

News about the war.

News from the Front.

Schiele!

Schiele!

You're in here -
outside is the reality!

Here it's coffee hous philosophy!

Nothing but frothy coffee!

Calm down.

What are you reading?

Dante.

And you find Dante helpful do you?

And what does that have to do with you?

Nothing. Nothing...

so very sorry to have...

As a matter of fact I do find it helpful.

I see, I see.

Here you are professor.

May I offer you something?

No, thank you, professor.
I've had enough to drink this evening.

I'm not a professor, Herr Klimt.

I am nothing.

Virtually nothing.

Once upon a time I was actually
doing what Klaus does now.

I knew I'd seen you before.

My name is Hugo...

Hugo Moritz.

To your very good health.

I have spent thirty years at this table
listening to the drivel of these gentlemen.

What is beauty? What is ugliness?
What is function?

Everything is beautiful
everything is ugly

nothing is functional.

To your very good health, sir.

Police have only just left
and they're at it again.

Really these gentlemen are
seriously beginning to get on my nerves.

In my day I'd have had them slung out
on their backsides by now.

Come, let's be off.

I think I'll go home.

Nonsense! Far too late to stay,
far too early to go.

Come, I live just across the way.

Bring your glass.

As I say, it's a mere matter
of crossing the street.

And please don't concern
yourself about the bill,

it's all taken care of.

I have got a permanent tab here.

I trust the incense
doesn't bother you.

My son simply can't live without it.

Now, if you'll excuse me for a moment,
I have to get dressed.

Actually I think I should be
on my way, but I can find...

Oh, no, no, no, no.
I won't hear of it.

Too late Herr Klimt,
too late.

Here is the little genius
of the family.

Thomas is a great admirer
of yours, Herr Klimt.

He's not wholly unlike you either.

For he too represents a certain
evolution in the artistic process.

In just fifteen years

he has gone from writing music
which was almost archaic...

To music of the utmost modernity.

Play us something, Thomas.

You see, what nowadays
we'd call early music...

And now... Thomas!

That'll do.

Now it's starts
to get really up to date.

And now total modernity.

In his most recent compositions,
he has actually gone beyond modernity.

Beyond everything.

Thereby coming full circle.

That'll be all for this evening.

I love you.

I love you to death.

Come... come...
come with me...

Come... I love you...

Over there.

Yes.

My name is Anna.

Alright.

Moritz, is he your husband?

Let's say he's my supplier.

I see.

Don't be too hard on him,
the poor thing.

And do you do this every night?

Yes, every night.

We were meant
to recreate your painting,

we weren't successful
so he's not happy.

No.

Where did you disappear to?
You scared me.

I'd forgotten I had
a rendezvous with a lady.

Ah, there she is.

She wanted to come.
Actually, so did I.

I wanted you to know.

Mizzi, how are you?

- You know we're a couple.
- Congratulations.

See, I told you.

You are not angry?

No, why should I be angry?

What's the matter with her?

Nothing.
She's always been like that.

There she is the mysterious lady.

- The professor's wife.
- The professor's wife?

Thomas is the professor's wife!

Tubby little Mozart!

Then who is she?

A client.

There's a different one
every evening.

You understand?

Yes.

- It's wonderful.
- Isn't it.

We haven't yet got it right
but we're almost there.

The main problem is
finding the exact colouration

that will help us
to detect the bacilli.

We'll get it eventually.

It really is very beautiful.

Oh, it's better than that.
It's useful.

Thank you, Rolf.

Come back in whenever you want,
I'm here every day.

Now...

There is something else...

...I'd like to show you.

Yes, please.

Herr Klimt.

Herr Klimt.

Herr Klimt.

Times are hard.

Oh yes...

...It really is me.

I was just thinking how long it's been
since the last time we ran into each other.

Well we're all extremely busy
at the moment.

Busy at the Ministry of Culture?

You do fuck all.

Well, there you're mistaken.

At the moment our task is prevent
people from creating anything.

Which, believe me,

takes a great deal more energy than
helping them create something.

But why am I telling you all this?

I no longer work for the Ministry of Culture.
I work for the Ministry of Finance.

Taxes you see.

And I should warn you they're beginning
to take an interest in you

Tell me just out of curiosity.

A painting, a portrait say,
how long does it take you?

Are you checking on my finances?

Yes, I'm afraid I am - apologies.

- Right here. Right now?
- Yes, again. Apologies, again.

Do you find it at all odd that we've
known each other all these years

and I still don't know your name?

Let's keep it that way
shall we for the moment?

Still working for the Duke?

The Duke?

Mademoiselle De Castro's benefactor.

Strange,
saw him just the other day.

He asked me to pay him a visit.

Since his accident he doesn't get
about as much as he used to.

To tell you the truth he doesn't really
invite you, he summons you.

And what I discovered was
that it's you he's after.

He asked me to have a word
with you and...

I was going to say 'invite',
summon you, to see him.

You won't even have
to make an appointment.

He never gets anywhere these days.
Here's his address.

Now you must excuse me.

Yes, yes, yes.

I've been watching you.

Is everything alright?

Yes, everything's fine.

You were talking to yourself.

No, no, no I was...

oh, remember me. paris
Melies? I was you.

Herr Klimt,
they are waiting for you.

Lea.

Lea.

Lea, where are you?

Lea, where are you?

Who are you?

You know it never
ceases to amuse me...

...to see how easily people will
fall into my little traps.

Traps that are after all scarcely
what you would call Machiavellian.

Or should the word be Mephistophelean?

Or even Angelic.

Which I have to say
would be my own word for it.

Whichever, here you are.

You have fallen headlong
into my trap.

It's a really rather simple, little trap.

Especially for a man like you.

A 'ladies man', so they say...

If you knew how often I have been
asked that embarrassing question..

And I'm even tempted to
call it a stupid question.

Except that that would be extremely
disobliging to you, would it not?

But from what I hear, you're a rather
frank and forthright sort of fellow.

Doesn't suffer fools gladly,
that sort of thing.

Which I have to say, is not at
all my first impression of you.

And when might all of
this have happened?

How old is Lea?

She's not old my friend, she's dead.

Murdered.

Murdered in her bed,
where else?

I need a glass of water.

There were even those
who said that I did it.

No one could prove a thing,
of course.

I tell you, I wouldn't have minded
ending my days in a prison cell.

It was you I was with a little
while ago wasn't it?

I don't know.

I really do believe
it was you I was with.

Why does it surprise you,
my dear Herr Klimt...

that there should be
so many different Leas?

Why do you keep wondering
which is the real one?

You have doubles too, after all.

Are you the real Klimt?

Perhaps you're only the latest one.

That's it!

Bad news from the front!

Bad news from the front!

Good gracious! Can it really be?
Gustav Klimt?

Thank you.

No. no.
There's no need to thank me.

I am honoured, Herr Klimt.

Really most honoured
to be of assistance to you.

But I bet you don't remember me?

No

Herr No. That's me!

Of course!
Herr Otto Messerschmitt von Ommit.

Exactly so, dear sir.
Exactly so.

Herr No.

- Is there something I can do for you?
- No.

Well, at least let's walk
a little way together.

- Nothing broken, I trust?
- No.

- Well, I'll see you home.
- No.

- I bet you despise me.
- No.

No, no, no, no, no.
The correct answer is, yes.

They all despise me.
And they always have.

But there's absolutely nothing
I can do about it.

I simply can't resist saying no.

As a matter of fact my entire
career has been built on this...

...natural tendency of mine to say, no.

To every question I am ever asked.

And it's true you voted against me
for the School of Fine Arts?

That's right.

It was thanks to me
you were never appointed professor.

And you voted 'no' on every jury of
every competition I've ever entered?

Exactly so.
Me and my notorious 'no'.

Nevertheless, you have to admit
that without me and my 'nos'...

Vienna would be now
be a graveyard of ugly monuments.

Ugly because they are beautiful.

For too much beauty in my view
is far worse than too little.

No, we simply don't have
the space for so much beauty.

The old would have
to be endlessly demolished...

to make room for the new.

I proudly present Marco Polo.

My next song is
dedicated to someone

who happens to be listening
to us at this very moment!

To a great artist!

Goodbye my little guardsman...

Goodbye, may good fortune
be with you...

It's all over.

All over?

Ave Maria...

Pray for us

Grieving Mother

- Flowers.
- Pray for us

Pray for us from heaven...

Death is all around us.

How terrible.

Isn't it a shame
about the weather, Gustav?

Yes, it is.

And I was planning a costume
fitting for the fancy dress ball.

Look, I have found this.

Isn't it beautiful?

But because of the weather

they have decided
to cancel the Primavesi masquerade ball.

Midi?

What time is it?

Late, I'm sure.

Poor Gustav, he doesn't know
where he is. He's lost.

Yes, she's here. It's my surprise.

Lea is here...

- The real Lea.
- I don't think we ever met...

Did we?

I don't know.

Poor Klimt,

he doesn't know where he is.

He's lost.

You are not going to kiss her?

She's come from far away
to bid you 'adieu'.

There you are, at last.

- I'm so pleased to see you again.
- And you.

It's so much nicer here,
don't you agree?

I'm trying to find the way out.

It's that way.

Just turn left, then left again,
keep turning left...

Left, left, left... and then
hey presto, you're there.

Who are you?

My name is Sylvia.
I am lost, just like you.

Do you like to get lost?

Just like you.
Everyone's looking for me, just like you.

Come on, it's this way.

We've got to hide.

Were you talking to yourself?

No. I was talking to him.

To a corpse?

And what were
you two talking about?

Flowers.

'Who art thou?'
asked the guardian of the Night...

'From crystal purity I come'
was my reply...

'And great my thirst Persephone...

Yet heeding thy decree
I take to flight and turn...

and turn again forever right.

I spurn the pallid cypress tree.

Seek no refreshment
at it's Sylvan spring...

But hasten on towards
the rustling River of Mnemosyne.

Wherin I drink to sweet Satiety.

And there, dipping my palms between
the knots and loopings of its mazy stream

I see again as in a drowning
swimmers dream...

All the strange sights I ever saw...

And even stranger sights
no man has ever seen.