Original subtitles

IdtV Film BV presents

In association with VARA

Sponsored by: The Netherlands Film Fund, CoBO-Fund, Justified & Ancient BV

A Willem van de Sande Bakhuyzen film

Our love began and ended with death.

Although tragic for this poor wretch...

it's thanks to him I'm with Samarinde.

Death has also driven us apart.

Tomorrow, she's back from Tokyo. Then we go on holiday with friends.

The only thing I have to do then, is break up with her.

A THOUSAND KISSES

This is Samarinde's voicemail. Messages after the beep.

You've obviously not landed yet. I hope you've not been too delayed. See you.

- I'm so happy to hear your voice. - Me too.

- How are you? How was the flight? - It was okay. Too long, as usual.

- I've missed you. - I've missed you too.

I mean it. I've totally had it with Japan.

- Was it fun? - Sure.

The first time was better. But more about that later.

- Where are the others? - Through customs. In the Champagne bar.

Gulpje. Is that really her name? Who calls their daughter Gulpje?

- I know her. - From a soap. Seriously,...

- Do you want to sleep with her? - Benny does.

I'm an award-winning actress. I want to be in a soap.

- Is she honestly coming? - Lads, cut it out. She's really nice.

But is there more to her? Or is she just a babe?

- The girl's got talent. - Yeah, for a soap opera.

- A soap's got no substance. - And your show has?

"Ego". Just look at the title. It's funny but totally vacuous.

I love you. You're supposed to like everything I do.

Hang on. Are you back together?

Yeah. I have to stick it somewhere on holiday or I get tense.

- So, I got us back together. - Oh really? You watch your step, mate.

- Ow, stop it. You're hurting me. - Cut it out.

I saw you in "Antigone". I thought it was brilliant. You looked so vulnerable.

- I cried at your monologue. - Really? Thanks. Glad you could be there.

I'm an actress too, but I'd love to do theatre. To play a more challenging role.

- She's so nice. - Behave.

- Hi, I'm Gulpje. - Egon. Hi.

Sweet, isn't she?

- Could you write at all without your muse? - You were still with me.

Fabulous photos for porno king Araki. Dirty old man.

The man is an artist. You're the dirty old man.

- There's a meaning behind it? - Yes.

Well, I didn't get it. Got calluses on my left hand, though.

You don't tell your girlfriend that. You're a dirty bugger yourself.

- How's your book going? - Fine.

- It's not about me, is it? - It's always about you.

The guy behind you is checking out your ass.

Turn around now. To your right.

Enjoying the view?

Where are you, then?

- Have you got to wait for someone? - Yes. As usual.

- For who? - The paediatrician.

I have to send a baby home with cramps.

- Are you working nights? - Yes.

- What is it you do? - I'm a junior doctor.

- What's your name? - Samarinde.

Samarinde?

Nice name.

An American University showed women photos of men...

wearing McDonalds' caps and cleaners' T-shirts...

but also men with Rolexes and suits, and then asked who they'd sleep with.

The joke was that the men with the caps and the men with the suits were the same.

- What do you think? - Americans are crazy.

- No. I want an answer. - How should I know?

I'd never do it with a guy with a Rolex.

I don't believe a word of it.

What's the moral of the story?

Their looks made no difference, but wearing a suit did.

The Rolex men beat the cleaners and night porters?

That's right.

Someone's jumped. The courtyard.

- Someone from the psychiatric ward. - But that's here on the ground floor.

Escaped.

The doors and windows were open on floor 12. Room 2.

Directly above where he fell. Shall we have a look?

- One of yours? - Yes.

- Where do you live? - Nearby.

Would you mind biking part of the way with me?

Thanks.

- That's her? - Yes.

I'm going to muscle in on you.

Where did you bag this one? In the hospital?

Arsehole.

You're going to get me some horny chicks, right?

- You were fantastic. - You were fantastic too.

- This is Thijm. - I wasn't on the catwalk. I organise the lot.

Okay. Well, you are fantastic, then.

This is Meija. She's the boss here and my best friend.

And you guys are writers?

I'm a producer. This introverted nerd here is the writer.

I love you.

But anyway, I'm working on this TV format about a modelling agency...

What a stunner. Stef, come have a look.

- Right, well this is my mother. - Hello. Welcome.

- This is my sister, Stef. - Hi. Got to rush. Evening class.

In the name of political studies, she sits in the pub all night.

I wish. I'm in the middle of exams.

You can see that you're a model.

She's studying medicine. She does modelling work on the side.

I also worked at the Registry Office for a while, but I stopped after my divorce.

Yeah. I can imagine.

It wasn't all that bad, you know. I just don't believe in marriage anymore.

People who stay together even though they hate each other's guts.

Some still celebrate their 50th anniversary.

I've seen that sort too.

Slowly gathering dust together. That's no good either.

I still love Giph's father but I don't need to be with him.

The sex was useless towards the end. If it happened at all.

You gradually grow apart. In the end the passion was completely gone.

- I started cheating more too. - It's Samarinde's first visit.

At least she knows then what she's dealing with.

Your relationship is the bed.

The others are just creases in the sheets. Iron them out and you're fine.

- Sadly, Giph's father had other ideas. - Mum, shut up.

Shut up? Shut up? I'll say what I like.

Samarinde can handle it, I'm sure. You're young modern people, after all.

- Giph always gets embarrassed by me. - Oh, God...

There's nothing strange about it. People cheat. People have sex.

Even your mother.

At least if you cheat on me I'll know that it runs in the family.

Exactly.

- You've got a lovely mother. - She doesn't mince her words.

- No. She's definitely honest. - Yes, she certainly is.

- Is she in a lot of pain? - It's MS, so it's not too bad.

She's not a complainer.

Shit seats. Never enough leg room.

- Get a grip, will you. - Just be glad I'm touching you at all.

That's your side, and this is mine.

"Could the ladies please not flap their labia perky, pointed and sharp."

Or "She sells seashells on the seashore," of course.

Long Island Ice Tea. There you go.

- I prefer a hot stewardess serving me. - They only come once every two hours.

Yeah, vocal warm-ups.

I'm bringing in an acting coach who's worked on a big soap in America.

- I'd like to take it a step further with you. - Yeah.

Was he bothering you?

Giph. I'm getting together a kitty for food and drink supplies. It's 100 euros each.

You're on holiday. Do you want to produce this, too?

If I left it to Benny and Egon we'd never get pissed.

I'm really glad you came, and that your girl's here.

Yeah, it's really nice

What's up? Things not going well with you guys?

- Can we change the subject? - Doesn't sound too good.

No.

Wow, check the house.

I reckon we still need a few more actors if I get that money.

I brought something nice for you.

I'm pregnant.

Seriously?

I've not been able to stop crying for days. Because of the hormones.

I feel sick all the time.

Now what?

I don't know.

- Do we want a child? - Can you see us raising a child right now?

I don't know.

- How far are you gone? - About three weeks.

- Couldn't you have told me earlier? - I only found out myself five days ago.

I'm not going to do it over the telephone.

You want to have it, then?

I want us to decide something like this together.

I think I do. Yes.

I never want us to be separated again for so long.

Fucking hell.

Women can tell immediately who's got the biggest.

- From his nose. - And other things. How he carries himself.

Pay attention. Keith Richards or Mick Jagger. Gulpje?

- Richards. - Exactly. Nothing against Jagger...

but everyone can see that Keith's huge.

- That's right. He's got a big one. - How do you know?

It's just a wild guess. Besides, size doesn't matter for women.

Dream on. Maybe a girl's told you that to make you feel better.

Size does matter. The bigger the better.

And who said I had a little prick, then?

- No thanks. Honestly. - Laurel or Hardy?

I reckon the fatty had a tiny prick which disappeared under his big belly.

The thin guy definitely had a whopper. He was married seven times.

- That doesn't mean a thing. - Women only wanted his money.

Exactly. So it makes no difference at all.

Barend or Van Dorp?

Probably only millimetres between them.

- Campert or Mulder? - Campert by a long way.

- Egon or Giph? - Are we talking about swollen or soft?

What are you on about? You don't compare soft dicks, we're talking hard-ons.

- So, what do we think? - Giph.

How can you say that?

I just think he has.

- What do you lot think, then? - Egon of course.

You tell me it's the biggest you've ever seen, afraid it would go too deep.

And now you're telling me that Giph's is even bigger?

- Yeah, well. It's just what I think. - Thanks for sharing, Meija.

- So, you guys have slept together. - Shut up.

Guys. Don't panic. We've already dealt with it.

Was it good? Give us all the juicy details.

That's enough from you for today. Shut up.

That's what you get if you sleep with my best friend.

God. Am I going to have to listen to this for the rest of my life?

And the child? You don't want it?

I don't know yet.

Right, well tell me when you do.

I finally read your book. Horny shit, man. I'd like to make a film of it.

Yeah, it's really about people like us. I can totally relate to it.

It's pretty hardcore. What do your parents think?

- About what? - Well, the explicit sex and stuff.

- My parents? What they thought? - Them, yes.

- You mean my father and my mother? - Yes and your sister?

Well, my father's pretty fine about it, and my mother is dead.

- Shit. - You were at the funeral, dickhead.

Yes. Yeah. Sorry mate.

Sorry mate. Bugger. Heavy shit.

I managed to locate the local pharmacy.

- You want some, Benny? - Yeah.

No, you prick. You swallow it.

- How are you doing? - I can't sleep.

Should this moron be driving?

- Can we turn down the music a bit? - There's not even any music playing.

This is great.

This is really great.

This is fucking brilliant.

Well done, Benny.

Benny, you okay?

- Benny, you okay mate? - Yeah, fine.

This week is going to get totally out of hand, man. I can feel it.

I'm off.

I'm off...

- I love you. - You alright?

- Have you seen Samarinde? - She went home ages ago, didn't she?

Yes. In the taxi.

Is everything alright? - Yes. I'm totally tripping out here.

- Just saw my mother dancing on the table. - Cool.

She's dead.

Cheers.

- Giph speaking. - It's mum.

- What is it? - My mum's had a fall. I need to go to her.

- Is it serious? - Don't know. Go back to sleep.

- Shall I come with you? - No

- No? Are you sure? - It'll be fine.

- Mum? - Here. I'm over here.

Bloody hell...

- I can't get back up. - Shouldn't I phone for an ambulance?

No. For goodness sake. Just get me up.

- I don't think it'll need stitches. - No, of course not.

- Shouldn't you think about a district nurse? - Bugger off.

- It's dangerous. - I don't want people washing me.

I'll just keep doing it all myself.

I don't want to, for Christ's sake.

What happened?

I tried to commit suicide in the bathroom, but your brother saved me.

She can't walk anymore.

- Not at all? - Not really, no.

- We're not going to overreact. - How do you expect me to react?

- As normal. - Right, we're just going to act as normal.

- She's pretty wound-up. - Tell me something I don't know.

Hey, it's me. How are things there? Everything okay now?

Yeah, it's okay now. But the doctor's just arrived, so I call you back later.

- Bye sweetie. - Bye love.

- No, it doesn't need stitches. - No. That's what I said.

- But I'll give you something for the pain. - Fine.

Try and move your legs a bit.

Looks like the muscles won't react, but a neurologist will have to take a look.

So, I won't be able to walk again?

No, I'm afraid not. It doesn't look good, Lotti.

Jesus.

We knew it was going to happen sooner or later.

She can't look after herself anymore.

Someone can come during the week, but we still have to figure out the weekends.

- No problem. We can just sleep there. - Yes, we can.

Stef and I have arranged to do the first few weekends together.

We'll see how it goes. I can't get to grips with it right now.

What do you mean?

Stef and I should see how it goes first.

- Don't you want me around or what? - No, it's not like that...

It's complicated.

- Take it easy. Gently, gently. - Mum, calm down.

Watch out. Carry on, keep going. I'm in the nuddy here.

- So, groceries. - Don't forget the coffee.

Make sure to buy Brandmeester. Can't stomach that other brand.

Heavy-handed. That's how I brought you up.

Don't be such a prude. You crawled out of that hole, so you can bloody well wash it.

I doubt it's the first time you've seen a cunt.

- Where's Stef? - She went to get groceries, didn't she?

You guys know you can't manage this alone.

- Well, hurry up. - Are we waiting for Stef or not?

I want you to get my bloody trousers on. I'm lying here like a toddler.

Many's the time I've had to dress you, so get on with it.

Bloody hell.

Just stop then. We'll wait for Stef.

You look wrecked.

How did it go?

Not now.

These music videos are getting more and more ridiculous.

Tell me something nice.

- I want to know how it went. - Crap. I want to hear something nice.

With his work, Giph has injected new life into the literary world.

One is wary of commenting on his book.

It's so agile, playful, moving.

And so full of wisdom at the same time.

So well thought out that any comments come across as rather pedantic.

He's a writer with his own sound: ironic, refreshing...

and sensitive at the same time.

I hereby name you debut novelist of the year.

Watch out, watch out. Giph?

- Do you think it's my kind of book? - Not really. But have a read.

I want to introduce you to someone. Herman van Boekel.

A colleague.

Remember, I gave him your manuscript to read?

Fantastic book. I can see you've read lots of Jeroen Brouwers. Great role model.

- Yes, I'm a great fan of Brouwers. - Pietje, I'm empty.

Can I just get passed? We can quickly remedy that.

- Can I give you a bit of advice? - Advice? Any time.

See you later.

- Keep a notebook. - Sorry?

Keep a notebook.

Your mother is very ill.

We all know that if it continues like this, she won't be able to handle it.

- So keep a notebook. - What do you mean?

Note little things down. Phrases that Lotti uses, events, striking scenes.

The beauty of literature is in the details.

When you experience something, you may forget to note it down.

You have to make yourself keep a notebook.

Yeah, okay.

Of course not...

She's unbelievably proud of you.

Not in the mood tonight? It's a party. Go have a dance or something.

- You're chasing my customers away. - Plenty of babes here.

Especially that hot chick with the blow-job mouth.

Apparently she's some writer's girlfriend. Bloody hell, those guys get all the babes.

Yeah, that's how it goes. Shit writers. Pricks.

That's more like it. You looked like someone had just died, mate.

- Thanks. - Welcome.

They're all going on somewhere else. Do you want to go with them or are you done?

I'm fine with going home. I need to be at the airport at eight.

That means you have to be up in about three hours.

Why don't you come to me if you feel so shit?

- Why? It's not that bad. - That's not the point.

I love you.

That's no good either. Just leave it.

Giph...my bum.

- Bedsores? Shall I turn you over? - No. The fucking nappy.

Well?

- What are you doing? - It's cannabis. On prescription.

Jesus. Who's this gorgeous babe? I don't know her.

Different.

Here, a souvenir. You can carry it yourself.

- Grappa. - Grappa, yes.

Let me...

Sven was David and I was Milo's Venus.

Middle of Florence. Opposite the Ponte Vecchio. Hysterical Italians.

No nude shots, I hope?

- I'm not telling. - Slut.

- Are you jealous? - Yes.

Good.

- I was thinking. The commercial in Spain? - Yes?

- Maybe I should cancel it. - Why?

- I want to be with you. - You shouldn't. You're doing really well.

- I'll manage. - Yeah, right.

What if I want to stay?

That would be really sweet of you.

- Here mum, Hong Kong fortune cookies. - How sweet. Brilliant idea.

Apparently, that has really happened in America.

- What does it really say? - No old sorrows, no new pain.

- That's death. - No. It's happiness.

Can you open it?

You'll be embraced with a thousand arms.

And I am.

Yes, it's fine. Champagne?

Darling children, Samarinde. There's something I have to tell you.

My condition is progressive, as the doctors put it.

I always thought that progressive meant something else, but there you go.

The situation is hopeless.

And...I don't want to live on this way.

If it continues like this and there's no improvement...

I want to be gone in six months.

I want to die.

I'd like the last months to be enjoyable. No doom and gloom.

I want to go out on an up-beat.

I hope...that you will all join me in this.

I'm not around for much longer.

So let's make the most of the time that's left.

- Tea? - Yes.

- Do you want to talk about it? - What's there to talk about?

- She wants to die. Full stop. - Don't be so cynical.

Maybe it's for the best.

I'm going to bed.

- Jesus, what are you doing? - Nothing. Just letting off steam.

- It's alright. - It's alright?

Of course it's not. Your mother wants to die.

Yes. She wants to die.

Jesus. This is doing my head in.

Say something, for crying out loud.

- Can't I deal with it in my own way? - And how I'm supposed to deal with it?

No idea. I've never been through this before either.

- What the hell am I supposed to say? - That's all I've been hearing for weeks.

When is it going to happen, then? Never?

I want to talk about it.

My mother-in-law wants to die. Am I to just go back to work the next day?

Yes, no. Nice and vague. We're good at that. Brilliant relationship we've got.

I worry about you. Just say something. How difficult is that?

Oh give me a break. Is your mother dying?

Are you going to tell me how should feel? Do you want me to sit here weeping?

I just don't know at the moment. Is that okay by you?

- Maybe I should just go to Spain, then? - Good idea. I said so all along.

You know what? You sort it out yourself.

- Is Sam not here? - No, she's in Spain.

- Of course. - Filming a commercial.

- By the way, you look pretty rough. - Thanks for the compliment.

Are you doing alright?

- I heard about your mother's euthanasia. - Yeah. Don't talk to me about it.

How old is she?

- 55. - Jesus, that's far too young.

- Sorry. - It doesn't matter.

It's totally understandable.

- Bad conscience? - No. I was concentrating on my work.

Hello ladies.

- I've really missed you. - Me too.

You're not angry anymore, are you? No.

- So, how are things here? - Great.

Great? Have any more interesting people jumped off the roof?

- How was Spain? - Hurry up. The taxi's waiting.

Just kiss him, and then we're off.

I'm going to a party, but I wanted to see you first.

- This late? - This late? This early.

The party's just getting started. Everybody: "A single girl doesn't go to bed until..."

- It's a hospital, you tit. - Don't...

Have they brought you up to date on all the gossip?

Fuck all happens here, Giph.

- I've really missed you. - That's why you've come here drunk?

- They kidnapped me. - Then forced a bottle of booze down her.

To be followed by a couple of pills.

- We haven't seen each other in a week, - I know...

But you're also just sitting here.

They came and met me at the airport. Sorry.

You could've come alone.

- But I'll see you tomorrow. - Off you go then.

- Night. - Yep. You're drunk.

Giph, once we've gone you really should...

He doesn't think that's funny.

Why? He wants to...

I know. Can you quieten down as well? You and your big...

- Well, I didn't cheat on you. - Good.

There was one guy who held my hand for an hour.

Your hand? And naturally, you held his prick as a way of saying thanks.

I shouldn't have said anything.

Sorry. Sorry about last night.

I did sleep with someone else.

With Meija.

You wish. I'm going to take a shower.

Hey, you're back. The rosé's chilled.

- Where have you been? - You don't want to know.

- Gulpje? - Hey Giph.

Yeah, what is it?

Where were you?

- I blacked out. - Blacked out?

Yeah. On the beach.

Jesus.

Sorry. I knocked back a bit too much.

I'm going to take a shower.

Always the same mess...

You lot are useless. Let me serve. You go and sit on the soap star's lap.

The soap star is totally fine with that. Come and sit by me.

As long as it's not an ugly stand-up comedian.

- What did you say? - Stand-ups are ugly. You never noticed?

You should joke about them in your next show.

I'll let you off with that, but I'll be back. Soapie.

Cafeteria prick.

No cafeteria, Benny. It's a five-star restaurant, but then you wouldn't know.

The boss made us practice on our girlfriends.

Undress her single-handedly with spoon and fork, and you could sleep with her.

I've no fucking clue what you guys are on about.

Lureen. Stand up.

- Showtime. - Come on.

Come and stand here. Can everyone see?

- With one hand, okay? - He's going to manage it.

Careful.

Oh, yeah. And now the skirt.

Yeah, from underneath. Here we go.

- You're in the way. - You're standing in front of me.

Nice underwear.

- Very nice. - Oh yeah.

- Doesn't take much to get your kit off. - I was just curious if he could.

- Arms up. Guys, the bra. Arms up. - The fastener's too difficult for you.

- What's happening? Too late. - That was really clever.

I'm doing a shoot with Araki.

Araki? Who's he? Doesn't the guy have a first name?

He's one of the greatest living photographers. So, a little respect.

He makes beautiful pictures. It would be a real breakthrough for me.

The only problem is, it's two months' work in Tokyo.

- Two months? - It's not definite yet.

- What about your job? And Giph? - We'll worry about that later.

- It's not definite yet. - But how's it going to work?

- Do you want to give up your job? - I'm thinking about it, yes.

You're trained to make people better, not to pose in fashion magazines.

What are you thinking? It's a waste of talent.

No it's not. I don't enjoy my work. It makes me really unhappy.

- How long have you felt like that? - Since that guy jumped out of the window.

Besides, modelling pays way better.

- Such superficial prattle. - Superficial?

You take the easiest option. Typical of your generation.

I was so proud. Giph a writer, you a doctor.

Whatever. We do what we want to these days. The 1960s are long gone.

So it seems. The couch-potato generation have the floor.

- You don't give a toss. - What do you mean?

- Anyone for a cognac? - Hang on, Giph.

The world's full of pretty faces. People who can make a difference are hard to find.

- I think it's dreadful. - Fine, but it's just not working for her.

Well, she just needs to grin and bear it. No-one said it would be all fun and games.

- Come off it. That has nothing to do with it. - I do want a cognac.

I don't want to be washed up at fifty, totally unhappy in a hospital...

regretting not having tried something else.

I don't have children yet, no mortgage, no ties at all.

- I'm lucky I've still got the chance. - Calm down, mum.

I am calm. We're just having a conversation, you know.

Grow up for once, will you. How old are you?

Shushing me the whole time. As if you can just gloss over everything.

That spineless crap. Take a leaf out of your girlfriend's book.

She at least tells it how it is.

- I admire that. - Jesus, mum. Give Giph a break.

It's your last Christmas. Why are you getting worked up?

- Because I always do. - Well, we can do without it right now.

Fine.

Your mother didn't mean it nastily.

You just have to challenge her. That's the kind of woman she is.

Let's just go to sleep.

- You just don't get it. - What?

I'm going to sleep.

That's fine. Okay. See you later.

- Tokyo's going ahead. - That's great.

That's great. Congratulations.

- You don't mind that I'm gone two months? - Yeah, of course I do.

- You don't have to ask for my permission. - I know. I just wondered what you thought.

You have to decide for yourself.

Then I won't go. I can't do that to you.

Go. Tokyo is only about a 12-hour flight. You can be back within 24 hours.

It's a huge chance for you. Maybe you won't get another.

- Maybe I want to stay with you. - We can e-mail, phone... We'll survive.

- You don't believe me, do you? - Not really, no.

You should go. It's what you wanted.

Bring me back a bottle of sake.

- Tell Lotti I'll be back in time. - In time for what?

Sorry.

You just go.

Are you happy with her?

I don't want to tell you what to do. You're old and wise enough.

Or could you still do with some good advice from your mother?

Have I actually been a good mother to you, Giph?

I'd like to know before I die.

- You were great. - Be honest with me.

- I am. - None of those wishy-washy answers.

I love you, mum.

- What do you want me to say? - Why has Samarinde gone to Tokyo?

Shouldn't she be with you? Seems strange.

And you mean to tell me that everything's fine.

I know you, mister. I know you only too well.

She can't read your thoughts. You need to be straight with her. And with me.

- Some pearls of wisdom after all. - I'm just saying what I think.

Maybe I don't need your opinion. You ever consider that?

I think you're entitled to it. We should be upfront with each other.

- It's how I brought you up. - Do you think I'm honest with you?

You have no idea who I am, mum. Who I really am.

- I know fine well. I know you very well. - You say that, but do you really?

Do you think I enjoy hearing you having a go at me in front of Samarinde?

Then you've not been paying attention. My whole life, by the looks of it.

This is Samarinde's voicemail. Messages after the beep.

- Mum's in a bad way. Can you come? - What's the matter?

She can't do anything. Not even talk.

- The neighbour found her. It's desperate. - Okay, I'm on my way.

Take it easy, keep calm.

Easy.

Are we going to do the euthanasia sooner?

- It's not out of the question. - So?

You mean what's to happen now?

Your mother needs to calm down first. She's terribly angry.

Takes a few days. Most people then become very dejected.

If she pulls out of the depression, we can then talk about euthanasia.

- How's it going? - Really well.

Tokyo's fantastic. Had a good flight. Great hotel, and the people are all really nice.

That's good. When do you start?

Tonight we fly to the island for the first shots.

- Apparently, it's gorgeous there. - Nice.

- You sound a bit off. - Do I?

- Shall I take care of that? - No.

- Are you with your mother? - Yes.

- How is she? - Good, thanks.

- A full house. Lots of well-meaning help. - And physically? Just the same?

- Yeah. It's a done-deal, isn't it. - Right. Great.

- Are you like this with your mother? - No, I'm really positive around her.

Jesus Christ.

Seriously, how is she?

Really, it's fine. Don't worry.

- And with you? - Oh, sure. Everything's fine.

- Honestly? - Yes.

It's pretty fucked up.

- The fact that your not here, you mean? - Yes.

I can manage. Honestly, don't worry. I'll call if anything changes.

Give her my regards, will you? Better still, put her on the line.

She's sleeping.

Hey, I'm standing here with a bag of urine, I'll call you later.

- Yep. Take care. - Take care.

This is Samarinde's voicemail. Messages after the peep.

So? What did he say?

This is Samarinde's voicemail...

- Can you not get a hold of her? - No.

What's she doing there, exactly?

You need to be straight with her, jerk. Or you'll get nowhere.

- That's what mum said recently. - Yeah?

We had an argument. And that's when it took a turn for the worse.

What did you say, then?

That she doesn't know who I am or something like that.

Who I am?

- Does mum never drive you crazy? - Of course she does.

- Does it really bother you that much? - Yes, it does, to be honest.

But I'll never get the chance to have it out with her now.

- Do you think she's angry with you? - No idea.

- I don't even know if I love her. - Right.

She only cares about how she feels, how we should behave. All on her terms.

So, now we're going to have an up-beat finish. You in the mood?

That dominating streak of hers, the way she waltzes over everyone.

- And that's what you told her? - Sort of.

Well, I'm sure she appreciated it. A bit of honesty.

I know for sure that mum loves you.

She's not going to be changed anyway, not at the last minute.

Lotti? You told us that when your quality of life became so poor...

you wouldn't want to carry on and you'd want to die at home.

If you still stand by that, that's what we'll do. As you wish it.

You mustn't feel obligated. If it's not what you want, if you're in doubt, it's okay.

No-one's forcing you. It's your life, and you must make the decision.

- Lotti? Do you want euthanasia? - Yes.

Your answer is crystal-clear, but I need to ask you once more.

So as to be absolutely sure that we're doing what you want.

Lotti, do you really want euthanasia? Do you want to die?

Yes.

- Morning. Lotti, Giph. - It's a beautiful day.

One sip of champagne?

Please give me a call. Send.

- Still nothing? - Can't get a hold of her.

- How's it going? - You'd think she was drunk.

Never seen her this friendly.

She's made the decision. Sounds strange, but nothing can happen to her.

I'm so proud of you.

I have a few lines I thought might be appropriate.

I'd like to read them to Lotti.

By Dirk Witte. By Pisuisse. Is that okay?

"Your head held high, your nose in the air..."

Would you rather not hear it?

You do. "Your head held high..."

What is it, Lotti?

I think mum wants you to sing it. Is it a song?

Yes. Yes, it's a song.

your head held high, your nose in the air

no care in the world for what others may think

keep a heart full of warmth and love in your breast

but don't make any concessions

what you seek, no other can offer

take it, seize the day

Are you scared?

I love you, mum.

Are you ready, Lotti?

You won't feel anything.

It's like falling asleep.

We'll miss you, mum.

So much.

You were the perfect mother.

- The best. - We love you.

It's over.

- Hello. Nice of you to call. - I just got your messages. What's up?

- I've been trying to reach you for days. - Shit, I had no reception. What's up?

My mother passed away last night.

No.

- How are things now? - It's okay, I guess.

- When's the funeral? - Tuesday.

- Are you coming back? - Of course.

I feel so bad that I couldn't be with you.

She died yesterday without a trace of fear or doubt.

She was at peace.

She wanted to end on an up-beat. And she did.

It's an enormous comfort to me and my sister that she was happy with her life.

It was as if she was drunk, Stef said. I've never seen her so happy.

The last hours with my mother are some of the most intimate moments of my life.

My mother wasn't easy. She was to the point. She was honest.

And I'm glad that I could be honest with her too.

I love you, mum.

I embrace you with a thousand arms

- What time's your flight back to Tokyo? - 5 o'clock.

And when do you come back?

In about a month.

Thijm has rented a house in La Palma. We're invited.

Nice.

There's something else I have to tell you.

I slept with someone else.

- With Meija? - Yes.

Me too.

On the island.

It wasn't even that great.

With whom?

It doesn't matter, does it?

It wasn't even proper sex. I just needed to be with someone.

And now?

We need to have a good think about things.

- Is that true? 'Cause I swear they're real. - Stop it you guys.

What do you think of our holiday so far? 25 words or less.

- Forget it. - Come on, Gippy.

Benny, I was totally wrong. This girl's got a really deep inner world.

- Can I get one of them? - No probs.

- This is good. - That's the way.

- Take the bra off. - Off, off.

Take it off then.

1-0 Belgium.

Yes, thank you very much.

Bunch of poofters. There's two naked chicks in the pool.

- Why are you still dressed? - So are you.

Don't tell me you're not joining in.

- Name one play where you didn't strip. - Shut up, will you.

- Take them off. - Come on Lureen.

You're so beautiful.

I'll get his trousers.

Guys, we should make a porno film together.

Hang on, hang on.

I'm off. Going to find a hotel or something. I can't hack this anymore.

That's not allowed.

You wanted a porno film, didn't you?

Sorry, but I've just buried my mother, and now I'm in the middle of an orgy.

Have you any idea how it feels watching your mum die?

- No, because where were you? - You were supposed to phone.

- You said you'd phone if things got worse. - I couldn't reach you.

Bullshit. I got through to you, but you didn't say anything.

- I bet you enjoyed saying nothing. - Enjoyed?

It was an insult to even suggest going to Tokyo.

- I said I didn't want to go. - Piss off. It was a great chance for you.

I couldn't decide for you. You had to figure it out for yourself.

- I guess we don't care about each other. - Wanker.

How do you think I felt, driven away by my boyfriend?

- Driven away? Fuck off. - And what could I have done for you?

Spin you a yarn because you felt like shit?

God forbid I show any emotion, because you can't stand that.

How do you think I felt. Did you ever give it any thought?

Not being at your mother's death.

There I was, sitting at the funeral. I've been feeling sick and like shit for days.

I was so lonely in Japan. Sitting on a Japanese loo with a pregnancy test.

I don't know anymore. I don't know what to do.

You never say anything.

Do you even love me at all?

Because I've not heard you say it in a very long time.

Yes, I love you.

I love you.

I love you so much.

What's wrong?

Come on.

I need the toilet.

- Are you okay? - I'm bleeding. Something's wrong.

- Do you want some water? - Just go. Leave me for a bit.

I'm going to call a doctor.

It's done.

That same day we flew back home.

I came here to break up with her, but the opposite has happened.

Now, four years later...

I'm genuinely able to end this story with "and they lived happily ever after."

And we are happy. Samarinde and I.

Of course, there is nothing so fragile as happiness.

Nothing so cruel as the realisation that happiness has a sell-by-date.

For me, happiness is a couple of good chapters from a book...

lunch with friends...

and night-time with Samarinde.

In memory of