Original subtitles

How much longer? How much time left?

Exactly 11 minutes.

This is the evening. This is the night.

God help me.

7 minutes left.

I must have done thinking by then... No more thinking... I must say it.

I must say it... I must say it...

But how?

How!

I must say it.

It's not too late. Help!

Help the sad ones, the lonely ones in this world.

I must say it...

10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3...

Frits!

Wim?

3, 2, 1, 0.

I must say it. Now!

Father! - Yes, son...

Father...

Gerard, Frits is talking to you! - Yes, I can hear that.

My God, what a frightful dream.

What was it about?

Oh, Jesus, yes... New Year's Eve.

4.30 a.m... 3 more hours of sleep...

OK, no more sleep.

Just say it.

Before New Year's. 9 days left...

In 9 days I'll say it.

The hair's still growing well.

Yes. Firmly rooted, these hairs.

If the Almighty has mercy on me, he'll keep it growing forever.

I see no reason for this day to fail.

More tea, anyone?

Has my girl checked the stove yet? - Yes.

It's humming away.

There's enough coal? Otherwise it'll go out again.

I'll go and get some.

There's butter on your finger.

What you say son? - Butter! On your finger!

This should interest you. A big piece of French poetry.

Someone's calling.

Really?

What'd you do with the attic keys? - I never had them.

Yes you did, yesterday, when you got the coal.

I didn't get the coal yesterday. You got the coal yesterday.

What's going on? - Me getting the coal? What nonsense!

All that shouting and it's only Monday.

They're not on the window sill? - No, I looked.

Maybe you didn't look properly.

Shouldn't you get back to work, Frits?

What awful weather! Dark like evening.

How true... Shall I turn on the light?

Go ahead.

The door's ajar. Such a draft again!

Did you ever have that, Pim? - What?

That happy feeling, at school, when the teacher had to turn on the light.

Preferably just before the bell rang. No greater happiness existed.

That warm glow inside... It made you want to cry.

You never felt that? - No, I didn't. No.

All right, time for work.

"Some people are severely punished right at the start...

They are born as women."

Frits van Egters, philosopher. Page 82.

Frits?! If your coat is wet put it on a hanger!

What?!

Your coat. On a hanger.

Is it raining outside? - Yes. Not inside.

God knows what that man is doing. Just goes out, never tells me where.

He'll turn up. Let's start dinner anyway.

Frits, where are the attic keys?

Not there. I just looked. You must have them.

I don't.

The stove'll go out again! - What's all that nasty shouting about?

A friendly debate. Question time is afterwards.

What's going on? - Nothing.

It's like I have a house full of children.

Always the same griping and growling.

The attic keys are missing.

The attic keys? Aren't they on the window sill?

No!

Please Frits... go look upstairs?

No!

Maybe they're still in the door.

There's no light and you know I'm afraid in the dark.

Be nice, Frits! - But I'm afraid!

What's that? - He's too damn lazy to get the coal.

I'd be happy to get coal if I wasn't afraid.

You never know what's lurking behind a door.

Frits, the door...

Dammit...

Suppose someone is waiting for me with a thin rope, I'd be a goner.

What day is this? December 23.

The 23rd of the 12th month, 23 plus 12 is 35.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10...

11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16...

...17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23...

...24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34...

...35.

Odd weather, don't you think?

Yes, awfully dark.

Still, not as cold as yesterday. Not as clammy.

Good thick gravy... doesn't move.

It's less cold than yesterday in the kitchen, too.

Really? You sure? - Yes.

Or the gravy would've gone solid.

How true. Or the gravy would've gone solid.

Don't you ever doubt your own sanity?

I do, but that's very fashionable.

Vanity of vanities; all is vanity.

What's this, Joop?! - What?

Whatever happened to your hair, Joop? I've never seen it so thin!

You put something in it? - I don't put anything in it!

Good chance you'll lose it in the middle too. It'll make you an old man.

Of course you could get it to grow at the sides...

Joop, don't get worked up. - But who is paying the cab?

He's only baiting you.

Yes, all I want is help you, Joop. If you let it grow longer at the sides...

...then comb it across the middle. It'll look awful, but the bald patch won't show.

Unless there's a strong wind of course.

Come on, inside with you. If you want to leave just say so.

There's no way out.

Hey, Van Egters!

That's Van Egters, isn't it? - Yes, Frits.

It is both a privilege and a joy...

...to welcome you all with the Salve alumni.

And since we in the Classic tradition do not learn for the school...

...but for life, all of us will always consider a Classic education...

...an everlasting criterium of our willpower.

It's not mathematics, nor history, nor the classics...

...that are of the essence of our schooldays...

...but the sense of being rooted in an ancient tradition.

And I've always felt privileged...

...to be able to guide my pupils along this arduous path...

...to correct them when they stray, forcefully if need be.

Who does Mr van Egters think he is?!

Doesn't Mr van Egters know that he's not allowed in these classrooms?!

Mr van Egters is a failure.

Wim!

Hi, Frits! How are you?

Bad. Apart from that I'm fine. You?

Well... eh... - Go on. You have the floor!

Did you get sick in there? - Ah well...

Gentlemen!

Mr Wening!

Let me think...

Frits van Egters, Joop's brother. The failure.

Oh yes...

Well, everything is relative.

May I ask what you put in your hair?

My hair? - It's so sleek...

Water. I comb it with water.

Dangerous. Hair loss.

Mr Wening, some bald people are quite happy.

What do you do these days?

I take cards out of a filing box and I put them back.

That's what I do.

I'm at university.

But I work too.

At 'The Camel'. Men's fashion.

The Camel? - Yes. Guess what's on the sign!

See you later.

12, 11, 10, 9...

...8, 7, 6, 5, 4...

...3, 2, 1, 0.

My God, I can see his ass.

Hello, son.

Goodnight. - Night, dad.

Christmas tomorrow.

Then I won't.

My tobacco is for cigarettes. You fill your pipe with it.

Well?

Well. Two, three pipes and my tobacco is gone.

Don't be silly, Frits, let your father fill his pipe.

Disgusting.

Some people are evil, that's all.

You're sick.

All right then.

Ah, forget it. - Go ahead.

Father...

...would you please fill your pipe with my shag?

Yes, some people are evil.

One should stay away from them.

Take it, dad.

Things are bad. Apart from that they're fine.

Things are bad. Apart from that they're fine.

Frits?

How're things at home?

Bad... very bad.

Yes, why mince words, Victor? When things are bad, why not say: bad?

I see. Bad.

And your parents? - That's a clever question, Victor...

...that's like asking about the weather when there's thunder.

Be serious. How are they?

I'm waiting for them to kill each other. - Is it as bad as that?

Listen, my father is stone deaf...

...you fire a cannon near his head, he thinks it's the bell!

My only hope is that he hangs himself.

In that doorway between the rooms.

Also a nice spot to fix exercise rings.

You can't be serious. - Why not? Fixing the rings is no trouble.

I mean about your father.

Of course I'm serious.

He mashes his food. He farts all the time...

Are you listening?

Yes.

For the porridge, my mother always puts the sugar pot on the table.

With a teaspoon. Are you paying attention?

We all use the teaspoon for the sugar. What does my father do?

No idea.

He slops it on with his own filthy spoon... sticky with porridge!

I like your father.

Victor! It drives me nuts! The porridge spoon in the sugar pot!

That's not the kind of thing to mock, Victor.

So what do you want from them?

Nothing, zero, zilch.

Then why do you still live at home?

The next stop please.

Bye, take care.

Good evening.

Why don't you try to write it down?

Someone's got to take care of them!

My parents! Someone's got to take care of them!

Put your coat on a hanger if it's wet.

It's good for you.

Say, what an infernal racket!

10, 9, 8, 7...

...6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

Zero.

Dammit, a totally wasted day. Hallelujah.

What am I? A cone...

...or a funnel?

Disgusting.

If you saw a photo of it...

...you'd never believe it was human.

What am I? A cone or a funnel?

Closed on Sundays and holidays. Merry Christmas.

You've got clammy hands, Duivenis.

What do you think when you see me?

There's that crud again?

I'm walking that way. You want to talk, walk with me.

Happy to run into me?

You mind I walk with you?

Duivenis, I'm polite, but that's partly fear.

With you, I'm never sure I won't get stabbed in a dark alley.

What do you think of my personality?

Hardly an inducement to carnal relations.

You really find me repulsive?

I've ordered a new face for you.

But... how could I make myself more attractive? For...

You know.

I saw you at the swimming pool.

May I ask what you were doing there?

Swim. You were there too?

Japanese prisoners of war are being repatriated.

Unsavoury characters, war criminals...

...who will not go unpunished.

Maybe you should try glasses.

What? - Glasses.

Might give your face character.

Here we see a transport on the way to the harbor.

You mean that?

I screw people sometimes but about the glasses I'm serious.

I'd have to get them from the swimming pool.

Like your suit? - Yeah.

You ripped that off too?

Yes.

You should be punished for that.

I should, yes...

What are you doing?

Keeping my eyes fresh for the feature film.

Only a few hundred will be staying, behind barbed wire.

Strange movie.

It must be hard with one eye. - Yes.

Pour your heart out to doctor Frits.

Your soul will be sniffed at like a rotten egg.

I never know when you're screwing me.

With one eye you must be a sadist.

What do you mean? What do you mean?!

We are now in the study of the famous Mr Maurits Duivenis...

...and ask him: "On Christmas Eve, who'd you pick for a victim?"

Age, sex...

...type of bodily harm please.

I'd like to strangle small boys, in the woods. Very simple.

Not very original.

And perverse, Duivenis.

Your soul's in trouble. Yes. But you're not crazy.

Hey, Duivenis!

Jerk!

Not bad, the new five-year-plan.

You see the teaspoon in the sugar pot?

It's there for a reason!

Let him be, Frits.

The teaspoon is in the sugar pot for a reason!

You don't understand? Of course you don't!

The Lord is just.

Where are the matches? - One moment.

A great help.

You expect the fairies to do it?

Tut, tut, just get a token.

Then maybe you'd put it in the meter?

Don't you want to strangle that man sometimes?

Frits!

Admit it. You're human after all.

He means well.

I found the meter, but where does the token go?

Top right. Lift the tab...

...insert, turn the right knob!

That's an intellectual for you.

Yes?

Me. - Who?

I said: me.

Yes, who? - Frits!

Which Frits?

Frits van Egters. Friend of Victor and many others.

Why didn't you say so? - Am I welcome?

Yes. Come upstairs.

Yes? - My, you're suspicious, Bep!

Bep? - Coming!

I was bored...

Who lives here besides you?

No-one. It's all office people working during the day.

Completely alone? - Yes.

Nobody upstairs. Nobody downstairs. Nobody next door. It's night.

The tight token's run out. All darkness.

Frits, turn the light on!

It's night. You hear a sound...

Someone in the living room...

A loud creaking sound...

Help!

Slowly, scared stiff, into the corridor, to the room...

Help.

You want coffee? - Yes.

No food stains on the rim?

How to be courteous. The fat one's for you.

How's your leg? Still itching? - The itching's less.

Let's see.

Jesus, it's still festering.

Looks bad. A lot of pus, I'm sure.

Stop it! There's never been any pus.

Bep, it means it's festering inside.

It won't hurt until the periostitis sets in. But you'll live until then.

Come off it! You and your stories!

You know the story of the child playing with a grenade?

Stop it!

More coffee? - OK, one cup.

Then it's time to go...

...to my next patient.

Have you gone mad?

You like me?

Got to go now. - Yes.

You can borrow it.

Sweet rabbit.

Nice rabbit, I like you...

We'll stick together always. No matter what disaster.

Found it in the street?

That man! 1 guilder 60 in stamps gone!

How?

God knows.

It's as if he's lost his mind.

Five ten-cent stamps I recovered from the garbage can.

Close the door, please?

Such a draft again.

Draft is wind in the house.

What? - Draft is wind in the house.

But wind in the house is not always a draft.

For my friend Jaap's son. - Fancy you being so practical.

A perfect gift for a one-year-old.

This is for you.

Thank you! I love chocolate.

Very expensive stuff, but I thought: only the best is good enough for Pim.

Really! Combing your hair with my nail brush!

Stop babbling. - Babbling! I'm just talking!

Just don't threaten me. - I'm not threatening you!

Hello son...

Father, your first time at the movies...

What you say son...? Your first movie...

Pang-pang.

Father, when'd you see your first movie?

Hello son.

Your first time at the movies.

Yes.

Well, when I was a boy. At the fair.

Living images they called it. - Can't be.

There wasn't any film then, was there?

How'd you know? - I don't believe you.

Then don't believe me.

A bit clumsy it was and the images danced.

But I loved it.

The gendarmes shooting the smugglers. Pang, pang.

Well... how popular we are.

Since when's Frits wearing a hat?

Hello, who's there? - Me.

Open up, you nincompoop.

Oh, you. Well, it could be worse.

How are you?

Bad. Apart from that I'm fine.

And you? Saved enough money for a new face yet?

Yeah, but yours I don't want.

You don't look well.

Lack-lustre eyes. Dull. Pale.

Nothing about baldness?

No, that's it for now.

The reason I came... Our toilet is frozen.

A frozen john! Jesus that's bad.

Imagine it expands and explodes. All that shit flying around.

Have you got something long and thin that can be bent?

Something long and thin that can be bent?

Sloppily formulated, but I'll have a look.

Joop, hello son. - Hello dad.

Nice, you dropping by.

New pullover, dad? - What you say son?

Frits's looking for something long and thin that can be bent.

Long and thin. - Long and thin?

Mother, something long and thin?

What's that you're doing? - Scouring the dirt ans stains off.

Scouring will ruin it.

Look, dad. For Hansje, Jaap's son. He's one year old today.

What a tiny plate. Who's it for?

Hansje, Jaap's son.

You should talk louder. That man's stone deaf.

One year old already?

Frits! You're scratching it!

You see!

Why won't you ever listen to anyone!

See, it's not so bad. It still has a fine shine.

Nonsense! Why don't you say something!

I think it's a nice present.

Not about that! The difference between the plate and the mug...

Yes, she's right.

Well, better scour the plate too!

If only you'd listened!

You shouldn't scour that, son. You'll ruin it.

Is that you? - No.

Congratulations. - Thanks.

Who's inside? - My mother and Jaap's parents.

Great.

There's more cancer on America than anyplace else. They eat so much meat.

In the snack bars. They've got a lot of snack bars.

That's why all that cancer? - In the snack bars.

They eat more meat in America than anyplace else.

I was at the reunion.

Well, well. You had a good time? Tell it in your own words.

Your baldness's getting worse. You still massage it?

I put paraffin on it.

Arie!

You're getting terribly bald. Massage is the only way.

Lots of vegetables and few potatoes, that's no food for a man.

Look at America. Nothing but shit.

Is that right?

There's more cancer in America than anyplace else.

When my father talks, pay attention.

That's because they eat so much meat in them snack bars.

They eat more meat in America than anyplace else.

From Frits. - Well, well... a plate and a mug.

And an apple. - And an apple.

Our honey-bun's thirsty.

You come to granny.

Yes, he's thirsty.

A nasty little bugger, really. The nerves system is all rotten.

That's why the head'll grow twisted.

How do you mean? - Don't mind him.

Ma'am, it's more common than you think.

The head gets twisted, grows towards the light...

Like a plant... towards the light.

You studying for doctor? - Arie, keep out of it!

Frits wants to go to America. - As a doctor.

Great. There's more cancer in America than anyplace else.

Why's that, you think? - Because of the snack bars.

10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, 0.

What's that?

I said: glasses!

Something the matter?

A heavy frame with thick lenses.

You'll look tough. Firm.

Well? - Looks great!

Really? - Yes. Relentless frame.

Pig!

How about burning the flesh with a cigarette? Or is a knife better?

Yes, I like to see blood...

Here we are.

Would you gag them?

No, I want them to scream.

Sit down.

Can I take a leak somewhere?

You know the Knip boy?

Yellow teeth, greasy hair?

I'd like to tackle him.

How'd you do it? Details please, I'm a doctor.

Imagine you've caught him.

I'd tie him down on a table, naked.

On the back or belly down?

Well? You must tell me, Mr Duivenis.

It's for your own good.

On the back... OK?

That's OK.

And than what?

I take a knife...

...press the point softly...

...and gouge, not too deep.

You carve nice clean cuts or you leave the skin frayed?

Just gouge. It'd have to be a short knife.

Excellent...

Where do you cut? That's important.

First the legs...

...and then the arms...

...then the face.

No maiming of...

...a certain part?

What do you mean?

Listen, rabbit. I'm not in the mood for jokes today.

So pay attention. If not...

...the torture chamber!

You're almost choking now? My sweet rabbit.

Help, help...

Maybe I'll prick your little ass with this sharp needle. If you scream...

... I'll twist your ears till they bleed. We want to see blood.

No, no, no...

Yes!

And now you'll dance on scorching hot metal. Yes.

An awful punishment, I know, but what you did was awful.

Sweet rabbit. You crying again, sweet rabbit?

Listen.

You hear me?

In two days I must have said...

Victor?

Say one day one decides...

...to leave everything behind and start afresh.

And not to talk to Jaap about terrible diseases anymore.

Good idea.

I know I annoy you a lot. But you have manners. I appreciate that.

Have you been writing at all? - What should I write?

That's up to you.

That God is the end of everything. That eating meat is sinful.

That we should face our ordeals and never be discouraged.

That we can be chastened by adversity. Like that?

That would be an excellent beginning. - Victor, the man's a thinker.

So am I. But Fritsje has made it his profession.

The world's full of misery, for sure...

We're too old for this.

We used to frolic and romp... What fun it was...

What a world.

When I'm tipsy I flap my wings but I don't get off the ground.

One consumes too much and one suffers the consequences.

Can you actually talk normally? - Certainly.

It's terrible.

I do my parents wrong. They suffer.

But God sees everything.

God is almighty. Yes, going to bed now. Going to have a nap.

Yes, mouse. - Mouse?

Peep, peep...

You want to use my tobacco? - No, son.

Don't forget, I may not see you, but God sees you.

Your justice.

Arms up please.

Arms up!? Brush teeth!

Sleep tight, little mouse.

I could bolt the door...

...roll around on the floor, shout "Oh!"...

...smash all the windows with an iron bar.

Faint when they kick in the door.

Then happily off to the madhouse.

Things are bad, apart from that they're fine.

CLOSED

Four months behind. Four!

Gee, usually you don't even notice.

Indifference in these matters can be fatal.

Sweetheart, did you check the stove? - Yes, honey.

Do women care if their husbands are bald, Ina?

Don't know. You'd have to ask those women.

Honey, what're you doing for New Year's Eve?

Staying at home, the two of us.

And you?

I think I'll shoot myself.

Yes, that might be the best.

That reminds me, you know who'd died?

What's his name. A bit effeminate, blond...

He was in your class I think. What's his name again?

Wim? - Yes, Wim.

He hanged himself, they say.

I thought you liked that kind of story.

They say that he was... you know...

What time's the movie?

...the gratitude of the people of Holland.

A moving tribute to the men...

...who lost their lives during their heroic effort to shorten the war.

Seeing your considerable merits...

...your punishment is over.

You're my own sweet rabbit.

One more kiss.

Be nice...

One more day!

Hello mouse.

I thought I'd buy a bottle of wine for New Year's Eve.

You like wine, don't you?

You don't mind me drinking?

I want you to have a nice time.

And put your white pullover on? It's so festive.

Who's coming?

Just the three of us. Nice and cosy.

How was the movie?

Funny or a bit sad?

Is this the Van Egters house?

It is for you.

Abadibadidonkolonetsowan, father?

What you say, son?

lgatsdobcvandedestcl?

Yes, son.

How old were you when you went to work in the factory?

Twelve, in the weaving mill. - The factory?

Twelve I was, in the weaving mill.

With the weavers right away?

No, first in another part of the factory.

What time did you start, till when?

Half past 6, round the clock.

Hard to imagine. A boy of twelve, a child, in a big factory.

Weren't things too high for you?

And now we proudly present: The stool.

They had a stool for me.

That must've been great.

With the stool I could reach everything.

One more time, that's really best.

Frits, come here please!

Look, Frits.

I bought wine for tonight. - Beautiful.

Currant-apple juice.

Currant-apple juice... God help us.

What'd you say?

This is terrible... Mother.

Yes, mouse?

It doesn't matter, but this is not wine.

Not wine? The man said apple currant fruit wine. Wine, he said.

No, it's not wine. Just juice. Look at the label.

Look!

Currant-apple. Made from fine quality fresh fruit.

Fruit juice, that's all it is. It has nothing to do with wine.

What's the label say then? - No need to look. It's not wine.

I'll take it back tomorrow.

What a pity.

You like wine, don't you?

Doesn't matter, lt'll taste fine.

How much did it cost?

Apple-currant wine, the man said...

Currant-apple, mother. - Yes, Currant-apple he said.

How much did it cost?

He asked his wife: do we still have that wine? Yes, she says.

Mother, how much did it cost? - 3 guilders 10.

Including a quarter for the bottle.

Doesn't matter, mother. It'll taste fine.

You sad?

Shall we cry together?

Shall we enjoy being sad together?

If you put the sugar on your plate...

...the pot doesn't get full of crumbs.

What you say son?

Also the sugar doesn't get all lumpy.

Yes, son.

Those shrill noises. Shall we turn it off?

Oh, no, I like it. I love it when the strings shreak...

They taste good?

My compliments! The ones on top are thoroughly roasted.

What's that? Wine? - No, it's fake wine.

Wine for New Year's Eve.

It's juice from currants and apples. A fresh, slightly sour beverage.

Very good when you've had greasy food.

Which glasses shall I use?

Use the mustard glasses. They're the right size.

Shit, that's a nasty one.

Wine stains are hard to remove.

It's not wine, goddammit!

Not wine? What is it?

Apple-currant that man says. Wine.

He ask his wife, we still got that wine...

It's fruit juice!

Made from fine quality red currants and apples!

Juice! A fresh, slightly sour beverage.

You get it?

Let's not fight.

It's New Year's Eve.

Sour! Oh, it's sour!

Father! - Yes, son.

Gerard, Frits is talking to you! - Yes, I can hear that.

Father.

Only human beings...

...can sing. - What you say son?

You don't understand what I mean? - No...

...it's not true that only human being can sing. Birds sing too.

Yes, yes.

Everything's lost.

I didn't have the guts to say it.

Listen to the radio? It's almost midnight.

Time to fill the glasses, mother.

Happy New Year.

Happy New Year.

Happy New Year, mother.

Happy New Year, son.

I'll go and have a look outside.

Currant apple!

Currant apple!

Almighty God, direct your gaze to my mother. See her goodness.

She thought she was buying wine.

She's my mother.

God, see their loneliness.

He spoons sugar with his dessert spoon.

He's my father.

Their bodies are decaying.

The grave awaits them.

There is no redemption.

You're back, Frits?

Yes, I'm back.

Put your coat on a hanger if it's wet.

I did.

Anything happening outside?

Goodnight, mother. - Don't stay up too late?

No, I'll go to bed right away. - Sleep tight, son.

It's all over, gone.

But I'm alive.

I breathe, therefore I'm alive.

Whatever ordeals...

...pain, disasters...

...l'm alive.

I may be locked up...

...suffer from terrible illness...

...but I breathe, I move...

...therefore I'm alive.

I breathe, I move...

...l'm alive.

I breathe, I move...

...l'm alive...

Frits?

Frits. It has been seen.

Yes, son. It has not gone unnoticed.