All language subtitles for wou-the.hourglass.sanatorium.1973.2160p.uhd.bluray.h265_track4_[eng]

THE HOURGLASS SANATORIUM

WRITTEN BY WOJCIECH J. HAS
BASED ON A NOVEL BY BRUNO SCHULZ

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's sleeping.

I'll check you in
once the doctor wakes up.

Sleeping? It's still way before evening.

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

Besides, 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've 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 homeland…

your 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 now.
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.
- No, no. 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.

Goodbye.

Goodbye.

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.

No. 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 need to know.
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? Mum…

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 who.

Go. 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.

You know perfectly well
that sometimes he returns home at night

only to go off even further again
before dawn.

I'm sure he'll come back.

You're tossing and turning
like a 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 stone wall 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.

Hallelujah.

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,
drunk on 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
extending all the way 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 juice?

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?

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

Really?

Let's see.

"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 the whole 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, my dear friend.
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. That's even better.

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.
- Spotted?

That's right. It's very perishable.

Birds of paradise?
- Not only them.

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 for yourself.

It's worthless!

It's a book!
- It's just a myth, my son.

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.

And we love them for that moment.

But then, they turn to ashes.

Thank you.

Why doesn't anybody offer for a goldfinch?

Where?

It's fresh!

"A book is a myth, my son."

Here you go.

"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."

Hale'iwa, 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 an endless journey.

This person will 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?
- Her?

She's all grey.

The touch of her hand
must be beyond imagination.

What did you see there?

Something colourful,
colonial, and terrifying.

Abductions, pursuits, betrayals.

It's a story about an abducted princess
who was exchanged.

You're making it up.

Java.

Sumatra.

Borneo.

I can appoint you as co-regent.

Anonymously, of course.

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 steamboat
with wheels at the sides

is waiting for her
every night at the pier.

Its 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.

They don't have to breathe
for a longer period of time.

These ugly creatures
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 Dreyfus next to 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, however.

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 III.

That's him.

He used deception to involve Maximilian
in the Mexican military intervention.

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.

But 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.

Let go of me!

A simple mechanical trick. Yeah, right!

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-raising things are happening here.

Will you tell me who Bianca is?

Well…

Her mother was a Creole.

Archduke Maximilian
lovingly called her Conchita.

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

Her mother?
- Yes.

You mean grandmother?
- No.

No, it was her mother.
- Yes.

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! State secrets!

Keep calm and control yourself.

100,000 pesos.

My business is not going well.
It's an expensive project, as you can see.

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

with her daughter and husband,
all having fake passports,

leave France and go to Austria.

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

After checking his fake passport,
Mr de V, surprisingly, 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.

"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 undoubtedly 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.

Think about it.

Wouldn't you like to be,
for just a moment…

so defiled or repulsive?

But totally renewed.

Do it.

Do it, and 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?
- Oh, 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 Antosia's daughter?

You played with her when you were little.
- Oh, right, 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, for God's sake?

Take it easy. Don't panic.

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

Normal facts are arranged in time.

They are threaded onto it—

They are threaded onto it
like onto a string.

It's important
for narration and continuity.

Fine, but…

But what about events
which have no place in time?

Events which have occurred too late,

once all of 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 already behind us.

And 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, but I have to go.
- Coward!

I hope to come back again.

Coward!

Wretched and stupid coward.

Oh, it's you.

You don't look well.

Everything is mixed up, Father.

Father?

It takes a lot of patience
to find, in this confusion…

the right words.

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

What? I don't remember.

What? Who? Whom?

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.

Books of legend.

Unwritten books.

Great epics.

Pallid and monotonous nameless novels.

Faceless giants.

Dark, evening stories.

Cloudy dramas.

Errant and lost books.

In partibus infidelium.

You must have had a lot of work recently.
The light's 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, even just a tiny bit.

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

And live with it.

Come in.

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.

And 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.

To the shop!

"To the shop!"

They're looking for you.

It's so hot.

Who?

The shop assistants, especially Teodor.

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

Up and down.

Up and down again.

Up and down again.

Up and down again.

Józef!

I wish you had been born earlier.

Come!

Get over here!

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.

Father!
- Stop bothering me. I'm busy!

Jakub! Go on, trade!

Show them!

It's very good!

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.

It's him. Can you hear him?
He's coming!

I've known him since childhood.
We went to school together.

Even then, that egoist disgusted me.

He devoured lots of buttered rolls.

Go and meet him.
He'll think I'm ignoring him.

Go!

These are really good items!

Father?

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
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!

I'm sorry… Who told you that?

The files of this secret conspiracy
were never revealed.

After all,
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
of 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 about that.
And 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!

Hale'iwa!

Vienna!

Bravo!

Mount your horses, gentlemen!

Hale'iwa! Quickly!

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, no matter wh—

Hurry!

Hurry!
- Hurry!

Father!

Call Garibaldi!
He's an expert on wounds.

Oh, Jesus! 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.

Oh, right.

You want to take him with you?

Let's form a procession.

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.

Especially since competition is so fierce.

As you have no practical skills,

my friend made a donation
to purchase 12 barrel organs.

Go around the world
and play to make people happy.

You can choose the music.

And 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.

Ignorabimu—

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 criticised?

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. I'll have someone make you tea.

Is Adela at home?

Adela left to America.

She left?

Yes.

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

We never heard from her again.

What about Father?

Where is he?

Father…

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…

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, of course.

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 overwound 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.

SPECTACLES
BINOCULARS FOR WOMEN

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 some papers.

On my first day here,

I was served an excellent filet de boeuf
with mushrooms.

It was a hell of a piece of meat.

I have to warn you.

If they ever want
to serve you filet de boeuf…

Filet de boeuf…

I still feel fire in my stomach.

I have diarrhoea after diarrhoea.

It's really tough.

Or take, for instance,
hunter-style roast,

stuffed with pâté with gravy.

Here we don't have to deny
ourselves anything.

As you can see,
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.

No way!

I have to see the doctor.

He's at the restaurant.

I've just been there.

Sorry, my mistake.
I meant the operating room.

We're evidently in a trap.

Ever since I came here,
the sanatorium personnel

haven'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 as mystifying.

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 gravely 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, quite the opposite.
We get time used up by people.

It's frayed and full of holes.

It's vomited, second-hand time!

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

but you can see him,
be with him, and talk to him.

You should be very grateful to the doctor.

Enough! Space is for people.

In space you can swing around,
do somersaults,

jump from one star to another.

But don't tamper with time,
for God's sake!

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.

And then, we'll see.

Okay! Chin up!

It's for the best that Father
is basically no longer alive.

It won't affect him anymore.

THE END