All language subtitles for The.100.Year-Old.Man.Who.Climbed.Out.The.Window.And.Disappeared.2013.720p.BluRay.x264.AAC-[YTS.MX]

No one has meant more
to me in my life

than my dear Molotov.

I see. Yes, go outside.

Go ahead and jump out.
It gets cold in here if you dawdle.

There's food in an hour.
Just meow so I can hear you.

Molotov! Come to daddy!

Come on now, have a bite to eat.

Molotov!

No, no...

No, no, no...

No, no, no!

No, no...

Bastard!

Damn it...

Goddamned fox.

You'll soon get your last meal.

I'll show you one hell of a dessert.

And then I lost him.

And suddenly I had blasted
my way into a retirement home.

Sixty one...

- How is it going?
- Sixty two...

I just lost count.
How many are there in each pack?

Ten candles per pack,
like it says on them.

- You can't be certain.
-It's usually correct.

You can't be certain. I'll count again.

I'll have to start over.
One, two, three, four...

Happy birthday to you!
Happy birthday to you!

Allan! Allan?

- Good lord, where is he?
- Where's the old man?

Where did he go?

Hello, I...

Is there... Can you travel
somewhere from here?

- Where did you say you were going?
- I didn't say.

I asked if there were any
conveyances here. Out of here.

- When?
- When? Well...whenever.

When is the next...?
Is anything leaving?

The bus for Strängnäs
leaves in three minutes.

Strängnäs?
- Number 322.

- Is that suitable?
- Yes...

Is this enough?

No. This will take you to Byringe.

- So...what is there in Byringe?
- Not a damn thing.

I see. A one-way ticket
to Byringe, then. Thanks.

And you are...

over sixty-five?

Right.

Let's see...

- There you go.
- Thank you.

Damn!

Come on! What the hell?

What the fuck were they thinking?

- Hold on to this bag and don't let go!
- But I...

Shut the fuck up! Damn...

He must have gone up in smoke.
He's nowhere to be found.

It's pitch black down here
and everything is locked.

There's no way
he could have gotten in here.

We have to call the police.
Will you do it?

It's best if you do.

Allan? Allan?

Allan!

One or two people have screamed
at me through the years,

from bus conductors to dictators.

Where the fuck are you, old man?

Allan...

The very first person
to scream at me was my mother.

I don't remember it, but I'm sure she did.

I'm sure I screamed too.

I guess that is what babies do
when they arrive in the world.

I didn't get much time
to hear my father scream.

- You have blasphemed!
- Do you mean showing the rubber?

It's the only solution to famine
and poverty. Is that blasphemy?

If you're doing it on Children's Day
in the middle of town...

you can bet your ass
it's blasphemy! There, go!

The last time I saw him, I was only nine.

I can't live in this hypocritical monarchy!

In Russia things get done!

Shut your mouth!

He had gone to Moscow

to declare himself leader
of a new independent republic.

Fifteen square meters
where he could be himself.

This is the solution
to famine and poverty.

With this,
the woman doesn't become pregnant.

No kids! This is amazing...

What are you doing?
This is my republic!

Until the Russians came,
and took care of him.

The solution to famine and poverty!

Can I say one last thing?

Constable, constable, constable!

We were told of Father's death
on a sunny April day.

I remember that,
because that's the day

I discovered how good it felt
to blow things up.

Everything Father had left behind
arrived in a little box.

Mother got a colorful egg,
made by some "Fabbe” guy

and I got an old Russian lady doll,
matryoshka.

Yes, and a camera.

Yeah, good presents.

Mother traded the egg for some food
from Gustavsson the merchant.

Well, it turned out
to be a good deal... for him.

I guess that's what merchants do.

After Father's death,
Mother coughed for two more years

before joining him
where he might have gone,

that heaven they talk about.

That's when I started
worrying about the future.

Yeah. I guess that's what kids do
when they become orphans.

- How am I going to manage?
- You sound like your father, Allan.

He was always thinking
for no good reason.

And see how he ended up.

Thinking will get you nowhere.

The only sure thing
is that it is what it is.

And that it will be what it will be.

Yeah, those were Mother's last words.

And since then, I've been on my own.

- Hey! Hey.
- What?

- You forgot your bag.
- Right, that thing.

No trains run here. It's closed down.

What was that?

No trains run here.

The station is closed.

Yeah, I can see that.
I wasn't born yesterday.

So what are you doing here?

The bus stopped here.

But where the hell are you going?

Going...? Well, that's...

I don't know. We'll see.

- Have you been on the road long?
- On the road?

That's some serious luggage there.

No, this isn't mine.

- It just kind of came with me.
- So, an old rogue.

- Are you hungry?
- Well, food... Mostly thirsty.

- I think we can fix that.
- Really? That's nice.

- Do you know where we're going?
- I usually jog around here...

- I could not care less.
- I mean I know this area really well.

What fucking area?
Do you know where we're going?

- Yes, I know the area.
- Damned lucky for you.

What the hell...?

- What's going on? What's the problem?
- Out of gas.

Damn!

Do you have a gas can in here?

- Well?
- There's only one house in Byringe.

-It's brown, or light brown.
- What the hell.

- And it's a little yellow... or light beige.
- Where the hell are you going?

You don't think he's just gotten lost?

No, I don't. His mind is all there.

There is nothing wrong with his mind.

Can you imagine?
Running away from his own party!

And I've spent so much time and effort
on him, and he just disappears.

We bought a huge marzipan cake,
good for 40 people at the very least.

We ordered it for him,
because he likes marzipan cake.

We usually get cream cakes.
Marzipan gets stuck in old folks' teeth.

What do I do with that cake now?

The old folks here can't eat marzipan.

I could consider a Black Forest cake,
but it's not my birthday.

You give me a call when he returns.
Cases like these resolve very quickly.

You don't think he went out the window?

It was open when we came in
singing this morning.

- Yes, yes.
- It was actually open.

I don't know. It's entirely possible.

- Call me when he comes. It'll be fine.
- I don't think so.

I hate retirement homes.

They think they'll get me into one this fall.

I've only set foot in one once.

If you've had four drinks,
you might as well have another.

I got some money to entertain
the old folks with my accordion.

They sat there, mouths agape.

- So you're an accordionist?
- Sure do.

Poor saps, sitting there.
I'd rather be in jail.

- Congratulations again.
- Right, I'd forgotten.

Down the hatch.

Did you have an old lady?

No, it never turned out that way.

How the hell did you avoid that?

- Do you pee outside?
- Yeah.

I have to make room for the next round.

I'm glad you enjoyed the food.
There's dessert too.

Yes, I'll be there.

Hello, is anyone there? Hello?

- Where is the geezer and the suitcase?
- We're closed.

Where's the geezer
and my goddamned suitcase?

I live alone here...

You think I'm an idiot? Who sat here?

No, please. Ow!

- Hold on, damn it!
- Where's the geezer?

You are fucking lying.

- Ow! Stop!
- I'll kill you, do you understand?

- Do you understand?
- Yes! Stop.

Let's toss a goddamned coin
to see if you get to live or not!

Please stop. If you just settle down...

Fucking lucky I don't have any coins!

There's a change bowl in the hall.

In what hall?
Are you fucking nuts? I'm not...

- Christ, what a smash.
- You don't say?

Hey, that dessert you mentioned?
How about that?

- We have to get rid of him.
- What?

- Before he wakes up.
- Okay.

I have to admit
that I'm getting curious

about what's in the suitcase.

There! Let's see.
This is the quickest way...

- Oh, a little much.
- to open it.

- I'll take that one.
- Even if you know the combination.

Should we drink it straight, or...?

Oh, my sweet lord!

That was quite a bit of cash.
No wonder the little boy was whining.

Open up, damn it! Hey, geezer!

Come on and let me out of here!
I just want that damned suitcase.

- Calm down.
- I won't hurt you.

Seriously! Hey!

- What was that?
- I turned the freezer unit on.

Here's what we'll do:
I'll take the suitcase and leave.

I won't hurt you!

Making grand plans is easy
when you're locked up.

Or in a jam.

But it does no good.

Because life is what it is,
and it does what it does,

as Gustavsson the merchant found out.

Wait here, baby.

Hurry back!

He'd sneaked away
on a well-planned day-trip.

He picked a sunny day,
a beautiful road

and just the right hill
for his pee break.

And still, it all went to hell.

I had chosen the same hill
for my explosives test.

She screamed to high heaven.

I guess that's
what mistresses do

when merchant heads land on car hoods.

Even if the test was a success,

it did land me in the mental hospital.

There.

This is your room now.
No shenanigans here.

After a few years behind bars,

I ended up with
what they call a racial biologist.

His name was Professor Lundborg.

Stop it, Allan.

Do you know if you have
any negro blood in the family?

No, I don't think so.

It just doesn't add up.

You have negroid measurements
and are prone to violence...

yet quite light-skinned.

If you have a negro somewhere,
it would be interesting to meet one.

- Allan's father was a revolutionary.
- Yes, he was a little special.

And the apple doesn't seem
to fall far from the tree.

I think we should err
on the side of caution.

The professor set up the equipment,

making sure my genes
wouldn't spread into society.

- The patient is ready, Doctor.
- Right.

Well, I guess that's
what racial biologists do.

Patch him up a little extra.

His hands weren't exactly steady,

but I understand the operation went well.

Forty nine million,
eight hundred thousand...

The last ones.

49 million, nine hundred thousand.

And that one.

Fifty million!

You know how to count. Not bad.

That wasn't so bad.

Still not reaching him?

I don't know
what the hell happened to his phone.

Fucking phone isn't working.

- Keep calling.
- Should I leave a voice mail?

Text him.
Go with your first idea for once.

- What was he doing?
- He was just supposed to pick up something.

- Pick up something?
- A suitcase.

- A suitcase?
- Yes. You know what a suitcase is.

It's a portable space
to keep your stuff in.

- Couldn't you get the suitcase?
- Does this look like jewelry to you?

- Sorry, I forgot the ankle monitor.
- I haven't forgotten about it!

- Is that Bulten?
- I'll take this.

- Shut up. I'll do the talking.
- Is that Bulten?

I said shut up.
This is Gäddan.

Caracas, bitch! Telephone!

Come here!

Who is it?

- We have it.
- What do you mean?

One of my guys has the money,
so we have the money.

Say we have it, dammit,
it's not a problem.

I ask you to do one thing:
say we have the money.

Is that so fucking hard?
This is unbelievable.

You go to Malmköping and pick
that moron up! This is serious!

- Java?
- Yes, please.

Aspirin.

Did you sleep well?

Yeah.

He hasn't made
any noise this morning?

No, not a sound.

Twenty degrees below freezing?
Damn it!

God damn it!
What have I done?

Bloody hell!

- How could I leave the cold on?
- Oh, my.

Yeah, well...

It'll work out.

Regret doesn't do you much good,

not unless you own a time machine.

You know, regret doesn't undo
the thing you regret doing.

And my operation,
well, I never regretted that.

On the contrary,
it was a real stroke of luck.

If my crotch hadn't been so stiff

from the professor's shaky hand,

I would never have stopped
by the cannon foundry.

Nor would I have taken
a job there either.

- Where are the cannons?
- We cast the barrels here.

You'll observe for a week.

Esteban! Shut up and work!

We have to work together
for a better world.

Esteban, the Spaniard,
was as slim as a flagpole.

But, then again, he only used his mouth
for talking, nothing else.

Come with me and fight Franco!

Allan! Where are you in this?

What do you want?
You need to make a stand!

- Explain that to me.
- I like to shoot. I like the booming.

We have to do something.

When Spain was headed for civil war,

he invited me to go with him

to help him crush
somebody called Franco.

I figured, why not?

After all, in war you must get
to blow things up.

Long live the revolution!
Long live Durutti!

Where are you going?
Come join the international brigades!

Hitler is a good man!

I need to sleep.

Comrades, don't sleep!

We have to fight against Franco!
We'd rather die than give up!

Long live the revolution!

Comrades, raise the flag of the republic!

And open your revolutionary hearts.

When we got there, the first bullet
of the war had not yet been fired.

Death to the fascists!
Death to Franco!

That is,
until Esteban stood up to shout.

My mother's words
of wisdom came back to me.

“You shouldn't talk too much”.

And he never got to blow up
any bridges, poor guy.

But me, I got to blow up quite a few.

Tres, dos and uno.

Here comes the bang!

Get down! Damn!

For many years,
I did nothing but eat and sleep

and blow things up.

It was a wonderful time.

But it was a little bit too much
of a good thing.

Suddenly, the urge
to blows things up was gone.

So I figured... screw this.

I'll do something else.

Having walked through Spain
for hundreds of miles,

I certainly didn't mind getting a ride.

Stop!

What's he doing there? Stop the car!

Stop, stop!

As it turned out, it was General Franco
cruising the countryside.

He appreciated my waving,

and treated me to dancing
and paella and lots of rioja.

That was a perfect ending
to my stay in Spain.

My friend Allan.
You have saved my life.

I will give you a gift.
My favorite pistol.

What a shiny knickknack.

- Enjoy it.
- Thank you.

Hey, mister.
Do you think it can be fired?

This is how you dance!

Relax, everyone.
That's my friend Allan.

Tell me, Allan.

What will you miss most
about our beautiful country?

The wine, and my friend Esteban.

He died.

Long live Esteban!

What's beeping? Hear that?

A telephone.

- What?
- Yeah, here.

Lots of text messages coming in.

- Now?
- The reception is bad in there.

“From Gäddan.
From Hinken... Hinken... Hinken...”

- Hinken?
-“...Hinken, Mom...”

-“...Hinken, Gäddan...”
- He's popular.

Well, maybe not.
Hinken writes, “Call or die”.

Great timing...

- Hello?
- Hi, Gäddan.

- I'm at the station now.
- Yes?

- The place is totally empty.
- Yeah?

There's just some moron
in the ticket window.

- What do I do?
- Did you ask him?

- What do I ask?
- If he's seen anything.

Yeah, okay. I'll ask.

Ronny Hult is here, with his wife.

Pick up your own visitors next time.

Yeah, sorry. I didn't even know
they'd shown up.

- Please sit down.
- Thank you.

So, tell me what happened yesterday.

Well, I work at the travel center.

A few hours had passed.
It was around lunch time...

Just tell him what happened!

- Well... that's what I'm doing.
- You're not doing it very well.

Okay. This guy jumped me.
He was quite violent.

You forgot to mention the old guy.
Do it in the right order.

First, there was this old person,
a man I sold a ticket to.

That was the hundred-year-old.
He buys a ticket from Ronny.

Then this biker guy shows up,

assaults Ronny
and makes him drive to Byringe.

Hello?

Anyone home?

Do you know what time it is?

Yeah, it's almost eleven o'clock.

Good. That means it's almost time
for their lunch break.

Hey there.

- Hi.
- Bye.

I see...

I see... That could have been painful.

Being dead can have
its advantages sometimes.

- There.
- Oh.

- Do we throw it all out?
- All of it.

- Now what? I see...
- He goes in there.

There.

Djibouti?

Well, he gets
to see the world anyway.

The good thing about vests
is that sizes aren't that big a deal.

You throw like a girl.

- What?
- Julius,

you'll have to help me pull the suitcase.
Now that there's two of us.

- Hell, yeah.
- Yeah.

- Well, of course.
- Yeah, I can... I can take it.

So take it.
Thank you.

Hey, you there!

- Hey, hello!
- Hello!

Could you hold on?
I'm with the police.

Have you...? I'm looking
for a hundred-year-old man

who got lost from
a retirement home in Malmköping.

Have you seen some old guy?

Yes, I saw an old guy riding a rail bike
with Johnsson.

- I see. Julius Johnsson?
- Yes, exactly.

And a guy in a biker's vest looking
all cocky, wearing sunglasses.

The way they do these days.
He didn't even say hello.

- Where did you see them?
- By Åkers Styckebruk soccer field.

- Was it long ago?
- About half an hour.

Are you certain?

No.

Bye.

Hey there.

You wouldn't have room
for two hitchhikers, would you?

- Hello.
- Hello.

Sure, I can do that.

There's not a lot of room here...

We'll put the suitcase in the front.

- Where are you going?
- Do you run the store here?

No. God, no.

I just work here.
I'm a student.

You're a student?
Not in primary school, I guess.

No. I've tried various things.

Studied all sorts of different things.

I think it's quite a complex issue,

with career options and the like.

- How do you mean?
- Well, there are...

There are different...

That is to say...
The way I see it, it's...

What?

I figure that it's difficult
to make decisions about...

That's great.
Keep all your options open.

Well, never mind.

- Get in.
- Thanks!

So where are you going?

Well... Where are you going?

- I'm going to the warehouse store.
- That sounds nice.

Are you sure?
It's in the middle of nowhere.

Yes. The middle of nowhere
is underrated.

Yeah, I guess it is.

Hey, can you mention the sponsor?
That would be awesome.

What?

The insurance agency Skandia turns 150
and this guy is 100 years old.

That would be great.

As a cop,
you could do something crazy on it.

- No, I won't do that.
- But they're both old.

- Don't you...? I'm a cop, damn it.
- But it would be great.

Give up, already. I said no,
and I work for the government.

I can't be advertising
on this damned channel.

Fresh '70s group The Police,
with their song “Message in a Bottle”.

And I have policeman Aronsson here.

- Inspector.
- Welcome.

You have a little message
for the public, but not in a bottle.

- No.
- Tell me about that.

It's about a man
called Allan Karlsson

who, on his 100th birthday,
left the Malmköping retirement home.

Oh, my. A hundred years, huh?
Is he playing hide and seek, or what?

No. He may have been kidnapped

by a biker gang
at the Malmköping station.

Kidnapped? Oh, my.

- That sounds like some bachelor party.
-What the hell?

Is he going to marry
Anna Nicole Smith, or what?

We would be grateful for any tip offs.

Right. Thanks for being here.

- Hello?
- Hey, I'm sitting in the car.

Some cop on the radio
is prattling on

about some 100-year-old
who was kidnapped by a biker gang.

Did they say kidnapped?

Yes, they just said it on the radio.

That has to be Bulten.

Oh, Bulten.
You're a dead man now.

- Do you want anything?
- No, that's fine.

100-YEAR-OLD KIDNAPPED
BY BIKER GANG

If you need gas, pull the lever.

You have to pull the lever
to get gasoline.

Pull the lever by the pump.

You need to pull the lever by the pump!
Push the handle.

Haven't you filled up a car before?
You have to pull the lever.

- Has he kidnapped you?
- What? Who?

- Julius.
- What? No.

You have to pull the lever.

The headline says
you've been kidnapped by bikers.

Julius was wearing a biker vest.
I just saw it.

No, the biker vest isn't his.

He took it from that bald kid.

- A little kid?
- He doesn't need it now. He's dead.

I hit him with a croquet mallet.

- Did you kill...?
- No, no. He froze to death.

Okay...?

The bald kid came to me,
sweat pouring off his face.

I guess he had the runs.

He was not doing well,
so he handed me the suitcase.

There's 50 million in it.

- What?
- We haven't taken it.

- Drive!
- What is this?

- Hit it!
- He can't pump gas.

- Never mind that. Drive!
- Alright.

Step on it, Benny! Step on it!

The lady at the register saw me.

What did she see?

This little bag happened
to drop into my pocket.

- You want one?
- Yes, please.

So you shoplifted, eh?

What the hell?

What?

What the hell has happened?

I apologize.

Of course you, as a store employee,
get upset when I just grab a...

He can't break a million-crown stack
for some candy.

I don't care about the candy!

What have you done? Well?

I'll never ask for information
through the radio again.

- No, it didn't turn out too well.
- Why do we even do that?

- Åkers Styckebruk called.
- And?

The dog indicated
a corpse on the rail bike.

- A corpse?
- Yes, exactly.

Benny, how about you skip the warehouse
store and come with us instead?

Or do you have an exam on Monday?

What will you do with the money?

I expect we'll split it up.
Right, Julius?

Yeah...

We'll have to talk about that later,
because we're not in a good spot.

Please step on it.

So... who does the money belong to?

You didn't win it in the lottery.

So what?
Does anyone really own anything?

I mean, everything seems
to change hands sooner or later.

Like that pistol Franco gave me.

I traded it for...

for a work permit
when I got to America.

That sounds great to my ears,
I can tell you that.

It's like kissing
a German Shepherd's ass.

And just like that,

my urge to blow things up was back.

I have to say,
it was a wonderful feeling.

It was that easy to get the bomb going.

Everyone was terribly excited.

Not least Harry.
The vice president, Harry S. Truman.

Damn, a pee stain.

Whatever you do...

You push and you pull...

but the last drop
still ends up in your pants.

A boozed-up American
can talk anyone's head off.

It takes a lot to shut them up.

Something like a president dying.

Which is exactly what
President Roosevelt went and did that day.

Now, here...

Harry didn't mind things
changing hands either.

- Mr. Karlsson?
- Well, Allan.

- Welcome back to Sweden.
- Thank you.

Uh, Prime Minister Erlander invites you
to a welcome dinner.

I had barely set foot in Sweden

before I was shanghaied
to a dinner at the Grand.

Good timing.
The food on the airplane was terrible.

- I am pretty hungry.
- Then get in.

And one soldier got up and said,
“Duck, everyone! He's reloading!”

Harry S. Truman himself
said Allan was a very nice man

who has also done much for the US.

I don't know about that,
but we had some party.

Tell me. I am terribly curious.

We were drinking tequila.

- Loads of tequila.
- I meant what happened before that.

Before that? No, we only had
tequila throughout.

Harry wanted bourbon,
but that's kid's stuff.

Mr. Karlsson, I refer to the work.

- When I worked on Manhattan?
- Yes.

You couldn't have tequila then.

That would be lethal.
It goes to your head.

Excuse me, I have to leave.
The government is calling.

That is to say, my wife.

Enough of that. The meal's on me.

Tell Engineer Eklund the rest.
Good night.

Bye.

The Prime Minister asked me to...

- Do you think he'll be back?
- No.

Then I'll take his steak.

It would be a shame
for it to go to waste.

The Prime Minister
has asked me to inquire

if we might have room for Mr. Karlsson
at the Atomic Energy Commission.

- How nice.
- So, how about your studies?

Not much to get excited about.
Just three years.

Only three years of academic studies?

Yes, I quit when I was nine.

- Nine?
- Yes, nine. Or ten.

I was ten!
No, hold on.

I turned ten that year.

So I was nine when I quit school.

Here's a little fella that wants
to jump down my gullet.

You can have his.

That guy was gone faster
than shit through a goose.

But he wasn't the only one
at the Grand fishing for my attention.

What the hell...?

Stop there, my dear.
You have some nice things.

I'll have an akvavit.

Give her a fifty.

Yes, that's fine.

This one was mischievous.
I'm starting to feel it now.

I feel great now!

I see. You don't say?

I see.

Damn...

What the hell is that doing here,
inside the archipelago?

We're running out of fuel.

Turn in up here.

- Yeah, go ahead.
- Here?

Sjötorp? A sea hut sounds nice.

Hello!

- Hi.
- Hi.

We're wondering
if we could rent a room for the night.

This isn't a goddamned hotel.
I live here.

But we'll pay you well.

We have money.
That's not an issue.

I see. Are you on the run, or what?

It's fine. I get that it seems odd,
us just showing up like this.

- Here's another geezer.
- The thing is...

- Hi.
- we got a little lost.

- We would be very grateful if...
- Allan.

- Hello, you. I'm Gunilla.
- Nice to meet you.

We'll see about that.

I guess I'll have
to squeeze you guys in somehow.

But no one pisses himself.
You sleep in the barn if you do.

- What's that?
- Sonja.

Look at that.

I see. Well, hello there.

Not bad.

Is she about 40?

Sonja? I don't have a clue.

Why do you think that?

I'm almost a zoologist,
so I think that's right.

Almost? How can you be “almost”?

Well, I'm almost done.

I almost finished my studies.

- Where did you find her?
- At a circus.

I see. Does she know any tricks?

I honestly don't have a clue.

Circuses are just perpetual animal cruelty.

Sure, absolutely. I hate circuses too.

That was the only good thing my ex did.

He saw that I felt for her
and he took care of it.

So he just took her?

Took? An elephant owns itself.

Yeah...

- Allan!
- What?

Hey, you can't do that.

- Hold on there!
- The flame was too weak.

It should taste grilled.

- What the hell is that?
- French potato salad.

I can see that.
I mean that green mess.

- Looks tasty.
-It's guacamole.

Are you almost a chef too?

No, almost a dietician.

No, you're joking. Cut it out.

Sadly, no. I'm almost a lot of things.

Almost a veterinarian,
almost an economist.

Almost a pharmacologist,
almost a human resources specialist.

- What the hell?
- Yeah.

You must be almost single as well.
No way have you had time for a woman.

No. I mean yes, I am...

I am single. I'm available.

- Maybe you were kidding?
- No, but I hope you are.

No, I'm not.

In the last 18 years,
I've amassed 920 college credits.

- Good lord...
- I have a strong thirst for knowledge.

You have to stop lying to yourself,
or everything could go to hell.

You could end up with nothing.

That's one possible analysis,
but there are several aspects...

What the hell are you doing here?

What are you doing here?

- I wanted to pick some stuff up.
- There's nothing to pick up.

Yes, there is.
I just wanted to get my bowls.

- What fucking bowls?
- The blue fucking bowls with flowers.

You gave them to me for my birthday!
And now you want them?

I changed my mind and want my bowls.

Go fuck yourself, Ricky.
Get out of here. You don't belong here.

- Is he a nice fuck?
- Yes, he's nice.

- He's the best. So damned good.
- Sure.

Good fingers. We call it “making love”.

Ricky, good to meet you.
Congratulations.

Thanks.

Take care.

No, turn around. There you go.

Well, no.

Oh, that's no problem. A bit more.

- There you go.
- Back up that way.

That's good.

- Just back up a bit more. A little more.
- Yeah, I know.

There you go!

Oh, my. He really slipped the clutch.

Gunilla! Gunilla!

I don't know what's wrong with me.

I always end up with idiots like that.
I attract them.

Maybe you know.
I bet you're almost a psychologist.

No, not really.

But I don't have too far to go,
I've read the basics.

I have neuropsychology left,
but that's a minor course.

It's hard to say what the root
of your problem is.

But you can change your behavior.

- If you want to.
- Come on, Benny.

You can't pick
who you fall in love with.

Sadly, no.

Gunilla!

It was you and me! You and me!

- Hello?
- Bro!

- Hello, Ricky?
- It's over.

She's met someone else.

Ricky, listen.

Fuck that damned chick.

She's no damned chick.

- She's Gunilla!
- Listen to me.

Stop taking pills
and stop drinking too.

We'll deal with this tomorrow.

- I can't take any more, it's over.
- Get it?

She fucked that 100-year-old.
I know she did.

What did you say? Hold on, Ricky.
What 100-year-old?

- Did you see the 100-year-old?
- That fucking geezer!

That guy who was on TV
who is a hundred years old!

Ricky, damn it!

Well...

yesterday I was turning over
a box of matches,

alone in my kitchen.

Then suddenly, this old guy pops up,
and now I'm here!

That's just wonderful!

Well, one thing certainly
leads to another.

But if that other thing
is better than the first,

you could never know in advance.

But I do know

that propeller planes,
submarines and vodka do not mix.

At all.

Oh, my lord. Hey...

Is that my bachelor party?
How exciting!

But I'm not getting married.

I don't even have a girlfriend!

I can well imagine.

Why is the new plant in Siberia
not operational yet?

Who is responsible for this?
I'm asking you!

You morons! Idiots!

Ah, I see.

Why not?

“Yes, why not? But could I
possibly have a drink first?”

What's he saying? Kalashnikov?

I like the sound of that. Good.

Allan, come dance with me!
Allan, dance!

Stop nagging me. You're nuts.

- General Franco, the Fascist?
- He just keeps nagging. it's boring.

What else is he saying?

Exactly. Listen here...

Well, you can't agree on everything.

But most people agree
that a gulag is a real shithole.

But it did lead
to me meeting many new people.

Well, some only superficially.

But that's where I met Herbert,
Herbert Einstein.

Like I said,
one thing always leads to another.

Hey, idiot!

Put the stone back.

And the food there...

Well, the feed, it was terrible.

I didn't see any vodka either.

In fact, no booze at all.

So one day,
I decided to get out of there

and I had a good plan.

Herbert was the only one who could move
around the camp without getting shot.

The guards were used to him
just getting lost all the time,

over and over again.

This is just too much.

Herbert, pay attention.

After a year, I gave up.

My plan was obviously
too complex for Herbert.

Herbert, let's just drop it.

Damn. What did I do with it?

Herbert. Lord. You have to stop.

What damned pin?

That's a hand grenade.

Who goes there?

Stop right now!

Excuse me. We have a problem.
A grenade without the pin.

- Throw it!
- Grenade! Grenade!

- Louder!
- Break it up!

I can tell you
that loose rockets behave

like rabbit dicks in springtime.

They go every which way.

The fire is spreading
to the military base!

The news that the gulag

and the entire Pacific fleet
had been wiped out

hit Stalin hard.

He kicked the bucket.

Get him out of the bedroom,
into the bathroom and wash him down.

Shape the fuck up!
Come on, damn it!

- What's the address?
- Stop it!

Get it together! Where does she live?

Where does the bitch live?

Sjötorp.

It's called that because
it's got a lovely lake view.

- Did you hear that?
- Step on it, Hinken! Let's go!

The amplifier isn't working,
and it's still under warranty.

Of course I'll bring it in. Thank you.

I was thinking about cadaver dogs.

Do they always indicate correctly?

Meaning what? They're cadaver dogs.

Right, but... I don't know.

After all, Allan is 100 years old.

What do you mean?

Older people don't smell like we do.

A sweeter smell, sort of...

A bit cadaver-like.

- Drop it.
- I should think so.

Check these guys,

Pär-Gunnar “Gäddan” Gördin
and Hans “Hinken” Claesson.

I'm busy with the 100-year-old.

Same biker gang, Never Again.

- Didn't you read the report?
- Of course I did.

Did you swallow wrong?
There you go.

What the hell?

Have some grass,
and have some vegetables.

I found this cell phone
on the kitchen floor.

- Is it yours?
- Nope, it's not mine.

It wasn't Gunilla's either.
But it's shut off, so...

Well, turn it on, see who called
and figure out whose it is.

Yes, but... is that okay?

- There you go.
- Thank you.

Someone called “Åleg” has called.
“Åleg” again.

Oleg? it's pronounced Oleg,
it's Russian. Young Popov called.

- Is this your cell phone?
- Well, I'm afraid it is.

- Yes.
- I found the damned geezer.

- Great! And the suitcase too?
- I haven't seen it.

- There are people everywhere.
- Just find the bag fast!

Yeah, okay.

What do you mean?
Is there a problem?

No, I'm just thinking
about this old guy.

What do I do about him?

Do what you always do: threaten.

Alright, I'll just threaten.

This is a threat!

Do anything
and I'll blow your head off!

The suitcase! Get it!

It's in the room by the kitchen.

Get the suitcase, faggot!
Make it fast!

- You mean me?
- I said “faggot”. Move!

I'll shoot the geezer!

And you stay real calm!

Hurry up!

Stop right there.

Back up from the suitcase. Back up!

- Hello?
- You're taking your sweet time.

- Did you get the suitcase?
- I'm holding it.

Do you have the money?

I'll check right now.

- You stay calm.
- I am calm.

Nice and calm.
Good, faggot.

Keep calm.
Nice and calm, nice and calm.

- It's a crappy suitcase. All plastic.
- Shut up, you wrinkled fuck!

- Shit, what a lot of money!
- Great, Hinken!

Take the bag and everything,
and get here quick.

Scram, you bastard.

Stop or I'll shoot, bitch!

- I'll do the shooting, I live here!
- I said stop!

Hinken! What are you doing?

Get out, or I'll shoot your head off!
You hear me?

Hinken?

Damn it... No!

Caracas, get the hell up!
Everything has...

You're shouting.

- Where the hell were you?
- Buying melons. We were out.

Hinken just got popped
by the 100-year-old and you just leave?

- Are you kidding?
- You think I'm kidding?

Do I look like I'm kidding?

Half the team and 50 million gone!

- And you go buy fruit!
- Melons are a vegetable.

I don't give a fuck
if it's a fruit or vegetable!

That's not the point!

Never question me
like you're doing now. Got it?

I won't.

Where are you going?
Stay! You're not going anywhere.

Stop right there, damn it!

- Did you get all the bullets out?
- One went straight through.

Sorry, I should have done something.

Like told me about the stolen money!

Now I'm involved in all this.

I haven't decided if I'm part of it.

- Yes, you are, Benny. Help me.
- So he's part of it?

- You'll get some cash too, Gunilla.
- Some cash?

I'm as involved as any one of you.
I get a quarter.

The sun is beating down.
Want to go swimming?

- No.
- No.

- Julius?
- No goddamned way.

- Maybe Sonja wants a swim.
- No, she's not going swimming.

What do we do with this guy?

Maybe set fire to the car?

Just leave him.

Someone has to do something with him

and I seem to be
the only one taking responsibility!

So your sense of responsibility
is why this place feels so very safe?

I didn't wave a shotgun around.

What else was I supposed to do
when he was trying to blow our heads off?

Let's hurry up,
so that we can get out of here.

I'll go swimmming.
Call me if you need me.

Where do we pick you up
if you're torching the car?

I have no clue yet.

Driving around with a stiff...
I don't even know who he is.

Neither do I.

Well, you never really know.

People can act one way

and then turn out
to be somebody else entirely.

In the spring of 1968,

I went to a party in Paris with Herbert
and his cute little wife.

It was held at the home
of that French foreign minister.

Ah! Your majesty!
Good evening and welcome.

- My husband, Herbert.
- Yes, good to meet you.

And his friend Allan Karlsson.

Welcome to my place.

Jean-Claude, this isn't the right time.

Look at that! it's you!
Are you trying to hide?

What are you doing here?

I'm sorry. Have we met?

Man, did we drink. That was fun.

- Who are you?
- You know me, Minister.

- Who are you?
- I'm...

Vladimir was not just
dressed up for the evening.

He'd been in disguise
for years with the minister.

And that made the French quite curious.

Just give us a name!

And Ryan Hutton,
from the CIA office in France...

He got curious too.

Polska is a good dance,
but I prefer the snoa.

Thank you.

- I am looking for Popov.
- Over there.

Thank you.

The “old man grip”.

Did you switch to the old man grip?

Oh, look at this.
Why are you here?

My dear, how many years.
May I?

- This is my son, Oleg.
- Your youngest.

- American cowboy boots.
- Oleg, stop it.

- Yes, they're nice.
- Can I have them. Please?

- Oleg, please stop.
- I'll give him mine.

- What did I tell you?
- Take this. it's also American.

There's no need...

- Oleg, what do you say?
- Thank you.

No problem. Enjoy.

So, my friend,
what are you doing in Moscow?

The CIA have a problem
so they asked me to help.

I thought perhaps you could...

- What the hell is this?
- Wash your hands.

- I just did.
- Do it again!

Ryan Hutton, you say?

- So you met at the CIA's Paris office?
- Yes, yes, yes.

Can you get any interesting
information from them?

Not entirely unlikely.

Hutton loved all that crap
from the Russians.

Suddenly I was a double agent, a spy.

Well, maybe not a spy. There was never
anything classified in that bag.

Both the Russians and the Americans
emptied their trash cans straight into it.

It still caused a bit of a ruckus...
and a few deaths.

Well, shit happens.

I see.

Thank you.

Good day.

Hey, can't you just...?

What? Oh, really?

There you go.
Sometimes people act one way,

then turn out
to be somebody else entirely.

Take America's new president,
Ronald Reagan.

He looked like a real rascal,
which he was.

So maybe the rule
doesn't apply to everyone.

This recording
only reaffirms my suspicions.

He's terrified
we'll tear the wall down.

He knows that if we do

then the Russian people
will bring down the world

and take it without any weapons.

A whole world waits...

When my old friend Popov
kicked the bucket,

I hung up my briefcase for good.

But his son kept in touch.

Such a shame,

breaking down a big wall with hoes
and bare hands when there's dynamite.

- A toast to Father.
- Cheers.

Ridiculous.

The East has all those cannons,
but they hack away at it.

What's that? He...

Hello?

Do you stop picking up the phone
once you turn one hundred?

Is this Oleg?

I gave you the phone to keep with you.

- Yes, you did.
-Okay. Happy birthday.

- What are you doing?
- Going for an afternoon swim.

A swim? You're such a character.

Did you party hard?

And what are you doing tonight?

Evidently we're fleeing. So they say.

- Fleeing?
- Yes.

Some people died, now we're fleeing.

Hurry the fuck up, Benny.
We have to get out of here.

We need to pack food and clothing...

- Did Julius call yet?
- No.

- Did you find anything?
- What?

- About the 100-year-old.
- Oh! No, no, no...

We found that Hinken Claesson
has a brother in the area.

- Really?
- His name's Ricky.

He's evidently seen the 100-year-old
at a place called Sjötorp.

- I see.
- Check that out.

Sure.

God fucking damn it!

So he's Russian, this “Åleg”?

Oleg. Yes, he is.
He travels all over the world.

Does he have any references?

What? References?

It's Popov's son.
I've known him for a long time.

Isn't it enough that he wants to help?

Do you have some post-graduate
you'd rather call?

Someone who wrote a paper on this:

“Chased by Dangerous Bikers 101”?

What an idiot driver.

What a narrow fucking road.

Damn it. Now I'll fucking show them.

Oh, my. He's really going fast.

- What the hell is he doing?
- Stop! Stop!

Come on, stop! No!

That's what I call a roundabout.
Boy, did he fly.

Will that be all?

A gas can.

- With gas.
- Do you have your own can?

- No.
- No?

- And a lighter.
- Right. One of these?

Yes. We're having a barbecue.
Some meat.

I'm mad about barbecuing.
It's the season for it.

Yeah. That's true.

What is... What...?

Fuck!

Well, god damn it!

He doesn't seem very talkative.

Too bad, he seemed very eager.

Damn!

- Is he alive?
- Barely. His head is gushing blood.

Hello?

What the hell is this?

Get in quick, damn it.

What is wrong with people?

Stealing a car in broad daylight.
They should be locked up.

He'll get a big surprise
when he checks the trunk.

Don't we have any compresses?
I must use something...

- What's happened?
- Use the curtains or something.

- I can't use anything that's dirty.
- Who is that? Who is that?

He was in a collision...

- But who is it?
- laying there bleeding.

- Hello? Can someone tell me who he is?
- Top drawer, Benny!

- He tried to shoot us.
- Shoot at you?

Yes, and when he wakes up,
he's getting his suitcase back.

Give away 50 million?

Are you insane?

- This thing never ends.
- It's not your money.

He tried to shoot us. It's not worth it!

- They want to give away our money.
- It's not our money, damn it.

- Which way are we going?
- I'm hungry.

- I don't know.
- Can you call Oleg now, Allan?

There's blood,
and I am holding a shell casing.

Yes, yes.

What?

Yes, of course you have
to send forensics here.

He's waking up now.
He's waking up.

Here's your goddamned suitcase,
and now leave us the hell alone.

What?

The suitcase you've been looking for.

There. We won't call the cops.
Just go and leave us alone.

My suitcase?

You were chasing us down.

I think the three of us
should have a talk right now.

One moment.

It's memoria damnum, memory loss.

Lots of people had that at the home.
It's awful. And bed sores.

- How long can you have pro memoria?
- Memoria damnum.

A few hours or days, or the rest
of your life if you're unlucky.

Just drop him here
and the suitcase next to him.

Hey, I'm not giving 50 million

to someone
who doesn't even know it's his.

That's where I draw the line!

Hello?

Hello, Allan here.

I see...

He told me I was meat.

Who was that?

He never said.

He made sure to say that he was
going to do all sorts of killing.

Kill us?

Yes. Good lord.

I know that orienteers
are trustworthy...

but you must know it leads nowhere.

It's such an obvious crank call.

An old guy and an elephant
in the woods?

We're throwing out that guy
and his suitcase!

Pack that crap, because we're...

I'm getting out of here!

- Stop, Gunilla.
- I'll pack it up...

First you were all about
an even share for everyone.

Solidarity with other people's money.

Now no one gets a vote anymore.

So what do you want, Benny?
What do you think?

You want to die here?
Because that's what's going to happen.

No, I don't. I want to live.

What kind of question is that?

- Hello?
- Hello, Allan, it's Oleg!

- Oleg!
- Listen.

We'll be landing soon.
We've already started our descent.

Can you tell me where we'll be flying?

We need to get landing permits.

One minute, Oleg.

- Gäddan.
- Yes?

Where do you think we should go?
We can go wherever we want.

- I don't know.
- Well,

just say the first thing
that comes to mind.

- Bali.
- That's good.

- Is that a place?
- It's a damned island.

Uh, hello! Bali!

Behind the cinder storage unit? What?

Excuse me, but that sounds
a little odd to me.

Yes, but...

Well, I have the right
to express an opinion.

Yes, I'll take it.
Yes, yes. I'll go there.

- Hello?
- You were right all along.

These sidetracks had nothing to do
with the 100-year-old.

What?

Andrén did an international search
and Bulten and Hinken were both found.

- Bulten is in Djibouti.
- What is that?

A small East African state, evidently.

Africa? What is he...?

- How did he end up there?
- No idea.

- Do they have DNA proof that it's him?
- Not yet.

That suicide bomber
turned the entire square to hash.

I see. And what about Hinken?

Found in Riga,
dead inside a car crusher.

Didn't you say he was shot in Sjötorp?

- There was blood there.
- That was elephant blood.

- Elephant blood?
- Well...

Hinken had no bullet wounds,
only trauma from the car crusher.

Forensics say there was only
elephant blood at Sjötorp.

And this guy Gäddan, where did he go?

Nothing connects him
to the 100-year-old.

He's wanted, but that has nothing
to do with us. Let's drop it.

So we have nothing on them?

Nope. Nothing criminal anyway.

This is just incredible.

I have the 100-year-old in front of me
right now, with an elephant.

Oh, you don't say?

Ask him if he wants
a ride back to the retirement home.

Forget it. No way. No.

Just drop all this now.

Okay, I will. I'll drop it.

Go ahead,
but I still have to say

that you've done a great job.
A really great job.

So, see you Monday.

See you Monday, okay.

- Bye.
- Bye.

Ow! You've bandaged it too tight.

It needs to be tight.

You're cutting off my circulation.

- Then do it yourself.
- No, no, no. I want you to do it.

Even if you suck at it.

100-YEAR-OLD STILL MISSING

Hello?

What do you mean, piss? Hello?

Who are you talking to?

I wonder why we humans
are drawn to the sea.

I think it's the feeling of freedom.

What a crash!

Lovely island, Bali.

Well, god damn...

Yeah.

- Did you get malaria already?
- What?

You're as white as a sheet.

Things are kind of a mess right now.
But I don't know.

Come on. She wants you.

I know. And that's the thing.

It's getting serious
and I have to make up my mind.

I'll get one more for each of us.

- Not everyone gets that.
- What do you mean?

I mean, to have what you two have.

Few are that lucky.

Just go and tell her.

That not everyone is that lucky?

Why do you have to make
everything so difficult?

Go down there.

Well, I...

I was thinking more about what...

No...

- Hello.
- Hello.

Well, not everyone is that lucky.

You never know.

There's always tomorrow.

- What the hell did you tell him, Allan?
- Why is she screaming at you?

Well, many people have screamed
at me through the years,

from conductors, to dictators.

The very first person
to scream at me was my mother.

I don't remember it, but I'm sure she did.

I'm sure I screamed too.

I guess that is what babies do
when they arrive in the world.

I didn't get much time
to hear my father scream.