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Comrade Soldam, we would like to grant you a small winter holiday.
They say you know Vana-Artma well. - I used to.
Are you from there? - No, my husband's aunt lives there.
Ex-husband's. - Well, it'll be easy for you to find our sauna and heat it up.
Sauna? - Yes, sauna.
It is my personal request and I hope you you will manage it splendidly.
Hello. Yes, just a moment.
We'll take some foreign guests there. See the accounts for travel costs.
Hello.
Yes, yes.
A WOMAN HEATS THE SAUNA
Based on Villem Gross' novel "Winter Holiday".
Screenwriter: Vladimir Valutski.
Director: Arvo Kruusement.
Camera operator: Jüri Garšnek.
Artist: Imbi Lind.
Composer: Veljo Tormis.
Cast:
Featured:
I think it's humiliating, heating a sauna for strangers.
I would never have agreed.
I wouldn't have either at your age.
What's so bad about it? A job is a job.
Say hello to auntie Aita for me.
I won't be going there. - I'm sure you will.
Well, what do you think?
I think it's stupidly festive for a sauna hag. - You think so?
Damnation... - 7.70. I wonder where that money will come from?
When will you be back? - The day after tomorrow.
Don't forget the supper. Meat and salad are in the fridge.
I'm staying at Liina's tonight. We want to study together.
Why can't you do it here?
We don't have a record player. We learn English from records.
Greetings.
Why's your tractor running on idle? Have it plough the road to the sauna.
Yes, Martma called, said he'll be coming with guests.
What timing.
I'll have the road ploughed tomorrow. No point tonight, there's a blizzard.
The blizzard will end in half an hour.
Right, if the blizzard ends, I'll send the plough out especially for you.
Wait in the fireplace lounge.
How did you dare disturb the meeting? I can't leave even for one minute.
Who are you? - A small person of average height.
Greetings, sauna people! - Greetings, plough people.
The blizzard ended. You a soothsayer? - Oh yes, a common witch.
Witches are old hags, but you... - What about me? - Well...
Yes.
So who's coming here tonight? - No one's coming here tonight.
That's great. We'll have a great beer party for ourselves, eh?
I'll pull the whisk out of a bucket...
I'll get the gang together. - No way.
Why? Why no way?
They don't ever let us in here. - The sauna will remain dark tonight.
And when did we become so matey? Or is that the custom at Vana-Artna?
All right, all right, but why dark?
So where will you go?
I'm going to Taose, if the homestead name means anything to you.
To old Aita Soldam's place? - Yes. I'm also a Soldam.
Come on in.
You still recognise me?
Take your coat off, hang it on a hook.
And put the kettle on for coffee.
Hello.
You don't ask how I got here? - Saw you through the window.
Thought that this one also hasn't forgotten me. - You're hard to forget.
You even remember these. - They're your only sweets.
Don't you think I'm completely legless.
But I do think twice before I get up.
How do you manage? - I get up in the morning
and get as much done as I can. Then I sit for a while.
And when I can't manage, there are still some good people in this world.
Your dog wasn't here to greet me. - Like people, dogs also pass away.
Didn't get a new one? - I can't. When I pass away, who'd take it?
It would still keep you company. It's scary being alone at night.
I'm not scared of anything other than losing my wits.
There was one like me in the next village.
Took her clothes off and sat by the lake all night, in October.
They found her in the morning, stiff as a bone.
I'm married to Taose and now we're both just worm-eaten scrap.
What kind of thoughts are these? - The clear thoughts of an old person.
But I wouldn't want to pass away now. Hard to bury in this weather.
My mother went a lot sooner. I remember we were cutting rye.
I came inside to lay the table and she called me from the back chamber.
I thought it was the end, but she just told me off
for letting the kids be out in the cold in scant clothing.
Demanded that the kids be brought inside.
Tõnis was five back then, Vootele was twelve.
She held their hands and then sent them out again.
She then took my hands and said: "Your hands are warm from work."
Death came in the evening.
Then I realised that that had been farewell.
I've got old, turned into a chatterbox.
You're an odd one, auntie Aita.
Wherever I go, people always whine and criticise:
there's a shortage of this and that, too much of this, too little of that.
Me as well.
But you've lived a long life and you don't even see the bad things.
Neither in life nor in people.
I'm quite sure that everything that's good in Tõnis...
is thanks to you.
I don't blame you of anything.
I felt it that first summer...
that it's not going to work.
Is Katrin like you? - I guess so, her own mother's daughter.
Give her my regards and thank her for me.
Thank her? For what?
For still being my nephew's daughter.
Her mother wouldn't have otherwise come to visit old me.
What time are you getting up? - Sevenish, I guess.
Very good. I should iron my trousers, there'll be foreigners tomorrow.
Drinking that Russian vodka. Be careful they don't hit on you.
Not a bad thing for a crone like me. - Look who's a crone now.
What was that? - It's melting. Snow's sliding off the roof.
Auntie Aita, what is it?
What is it, auntie Aita?
Are you feeling unwell? Where does it hurt?
Do you want your medicine?
Leave me alone, get out of my sight. - No, I won't, you jerk.
Someone is dying.
There's no one dying here.
Where's the nearest phone?
Don't you dare call the militsiya. - No going out with no clothes on!
About half an hour ago.
The second one today. Who are you to her? - Who? I came...
You could tie her jaw with a scarf.
Don't come to the village council too early in the morning.
Village council? - For the death certificate. Bad weather for a burial.
Auntie Aita even said that... - Oh, I recall now.
We were here with professor Moorits. To see your small sick child.
You're doctor Soldam's wife. Yes, I recall now.
Good bye.
So it was you, Anu? Dear God...
I'm sorry, we had a little fight. - You shut up.
I saw the ambulance and asked.
Dear god, poor old Aita.
What luck that you were here.
Someone to close her eyes.
Don't worry, we'll help.
Lui, go to Hiiemäe and tell Maret that old Aita has passed away
and tell them to come and help. - I'll go right away.
Anu!
Not one bottle of beer at the wake feast.
With vodka, it messes men's heads up and who knows what will happen.
I know a good recipe for cranberry juice.
A calf and half a pig will suffice.
And some herring and other fish. Oh the poor soul...
Volli should go to the village council.
And her kin in Tallinn should be notified right away.
I reckon you'll call Tõnis.
Tallinn is on the line.
Tõnis can't come to the phone right now. Who is it? - I'll tell him.
Weird people. He's having a bath. - No, he's not, you don't have a bath.
Oh, I see who it is.
You're calling from Viljandi, yes? Don't hope he'll come pick you up.
He didn't even drive to Tartu, though Anu was a sweetheart compared to you.
Is this you, Naima? - No, it's Anu.
Anu? Where are you calling from? - I'm at Artna.
Really? Visiting auntie Aita?
Tõnis, auntie Aita is no longer.
Mum? Mum!
Hey, you!
Sleeping at this time of day? Are you drunk?
What a good sauna heater we have.
Go manage things in the kitchen, I'll light the fire.
My dear lady...
Well, what happened?
No, but... - That's what I was sent here for.
Kusta, take care of the whisks, I'll take of this one in dire need.
No, I do apologise.
How can a little joke upset you so, my sincerest apologies.
What fantasies are these? Everything is a mess.
Take the sauna whisks and towels downstairs.
They said you're flirting instead of getting the food ready, eh?
Hello. - Olga, you left the guests without an interpreter?
They're in the hot room. - True, they'll manage without you there.
I'm going there myself.
You can call me Olya. - Nice to meet you, I'm Anu.
Shall I help you? - Thank you, no need. You're a guest, after all.
Men don't like it when women are not busy, even if they're guests.
So what do we have here? Oh, chicken!
Quite tasty. - No, thank you.
You'll regret it.
Tasty. Don't mind them, have a bite. I can see you're hungry.
They'll wait, we'll lay the table a hundred times over.
I've been driving around with foreigners for three years,
but it's my first time in a Finnish sauna.
And what do I see?
Again, men took all the rights and left all the duties to women.
A hole!
A hole? What hole? - There's no hole in the ice.
What did you do here for two days? Standing here, eating chicken.
What is it? What did he say? - There's no hole! - No hole?
What hole?
Oh, in the ice. Is there a fire? - No, they want to jump in.
Big deal, they'll have to wait.
Well? - We'll have to wait.
Come over here.
Anu, give me that.
This is men's work. - Right, we'll get it done.
There, you don't even need a sauna, you'll get hot doing this.
If you're not fatally ill, this will always make you well.
At whose expense was all this purchased?
There are certain combinations and funds, you see.
I mean, a fund for catering for guests.
Have a shot, pretend it's chocolate. - How much does a chicken cost?
What chicken? - I want to pay that fund for one chicken.
Hehe, one chicken!
What is it? - Nothing, never mind.
Ignore it. As if the world ended because of that hole.
Shall we?
They go nuts in the company of foreigners.
I truly thought the sauna was on fire.
And I thought comrade director was about to do a male striptease.
Another swig? - Go on then.
What savages. - Yes.
Sorry to bother you again. A guest would like coffee with his vodka.
Where I get coffee for him?
Do you have any coffee? - Yes, here you go.
Oh, a miracle.
And natural. - Water's hot, I can make some more.
Please be so kind. If one has coffee, others will want some. Thank you.
Your attention, please.
Cool. - Yes.
Please translate.
If I could translate poems, I'd sit at home and translate books.
Come with me, don't be shy.
Hot, hot...
Our guests can't forgive you for hiding the sauna lady from them.
Estonians don't play their aces right away.
I would now ask our guests what they think of our sauna.
Thank you.
Hold on, I want to say one more thing.
A sauna might be built well, but it requires a caring hand. - True.
I haven't said a toast yet.
They say I give little praise to people. Do we have no good workers?
My answer is: good work must be the norm.
With this, I wanted to place more weight on the toast:
I propose a toast to Anu Soldam who fulfils her duties properly.
To your health. - To your health.
Comrade, don't you like this drink? - I drink anything, but in secret.
Comrades, hurry, we only have a few ladies.
The trade union takes the first dance.
Don't be shy!
May I have this dance?
What option does she have.
Something's burning. - Excuse me.
It's not burning yet? Could've built an even fancier sauna.
How do city women like a country sauna?
Comrade director, I need a snow plough tomorrow.
The owner of Taose homestead is dead, Soldam, from the Raigu village.
The one who had that big house? - Yes.
Yes, of course, no problem. We'll plough the road tomorrow.
Yes, definitely.
Do you know if the relatives want to keep the house? We need the land.
You must be very tired? - Not more than the others.
We were expecting you in the afternoon. - Mum wanted to come early.
Hello.
Hello.
We stopped in Tartu to pick up Katrin, but she wasn't at home.
She's coming in the morning. She knows there aren't enough beds.
Yes. Yes, of course.
What will become of the homestead?
What do I need? I already have a house on wheels.
Why would I need another house? And so far from Tallinn.
We also have a house at Nõmme, we only came here for auntie Aita.
But now...
The sovkhoz wants to buy it. - They want the land for builders.
Taose, which has existed for as long as the Soldam family remembers.
Land for builders... An offence to the memory of our ancestors.
Although on the other hand,
what makes any Soldams better than those builders,
who do actually need this land?
Anu, I think we should keep this house for Katrin.
Katrin is coming tomorrow, she can decide for herself.
Leave the fate of Taose to a child? - She's no longer a child.
This is reckless, we may lose the house this way.
It's already lost.
I don't see why she came here to upset an old woman.
She's a relative. - She's a stranger to our family.
Always has been and always will be.
And she hates us. - Mum, you're exaggerating.
No, it's the truth.
I didn't make her life hell at ours. - You're saying I did?
Oh, poor auntie Aita. She could have lived for much longer.
But the coffee, the blood sausage... - Yes, the blood sausage, truly.
She'd better look after her daughter.
She didn't come.
Perhaps she'll come by bus.
All right, dad, you go back. My train'll be here soon. - All right.
Make sure you get all your things done. - Sure.
What were auntie Aita's last words? - Last words? I can't remember.
During the war, we didn't have time to contemplate anyone's last words.
I guess they tended to be too crude for print.
Everyone knows Goethe's last words, but auntie Aita's are lost to us.
Why? - I was so scared, had to go find a telephone.
The last one shuts the door. - I only wanted to check.
Where are you going? - I'm not going anywhere, my daughter Katrin...
In that case, please leave. I need to get to Valga on schedule.
Please leave, if you're not going anywhere. I can't just wait around.
You just have to get used to verbal abuse ever increasing in time.
As cities grow, ever more abusers emerge, like mushrooms after rain.
Auntie Aita lived a long life, but we never heard a cruel word from her.
Oh, I remember now, she talked of her mother's death.
And then she said: "I've got old, become a chatterbox."
I thought so. Simple people leave with simple words.
She usually went to bed early, but then I came, we ate a lot.
Perhaps her death really is my fault? - Don't be silly.
It happened so suddenly. - Yes, and you happened to be there.
Better let's discuss where Katrin is. - Maybe she didn't get the telegram.
How old is she now? - 16.
That's a dangerous age.
Would you like a drink? - No, I'm driving straight back to Tartu.
Yes, of course. - Perhaps you could give me a ride? - Yes, why not.
Anu, dear, you don't have any flowers? Take some hydraneas from inside.
Anu.
You're really leaving? - Yes, I'm worried about Katrin.
Anu...
You must be very tired?
You already asked me that. I am a little.
And you? Writing your doctoral thesis?
Is this the place to talk about it? - I guess you're right.
I just wanted to hear something good. - We often talk about you. - I know.
The wall behind the heater is still thin, Tõnis.
You overheard what we said? Well, you know, mum...
I was so glad to hear your voice, Anu, but I was afraid to meet you.
Me too. A lot of time has passed.
But we two are still the same and nothing will change.
Anu, I'm still hoping. We'll talk, yes?
No, Tõnis. Let things be as they are.
Farewell.
How is your daughter doing? In good health?
Oh, you are... - You didn't recognise me?
I knew I knew you, but I couldn't exactly place you.
It has been 16 years, after all. How time flies.
You must be tired? - Yes, I'm going to have a sauna and then go to bed.
Shame I don't have a bath at home.
I do apologise. I've got old, become a chatterbox.
I lied. Vootele wanted to know auntie Aita's last words.
Like people know Goethe's last words. - Yes, "More light, more light!"
What did Aita say? - "Snow's sliding off the roof", her last words.
Snow's sliding off the roof...
Why did we turn? - Let's pop by my summerhouse. It has a sauna.
Dear heavens, no need for that, I was just making conversation.
Never mind then. - I'm worried about Katrin, she didn't come to the funeral.
It'll only take a few minutes for my wife to gather our things.
Odd, I didn't ask her to heat it. Maybe we still could have a sauna.
You're here? So soon?
Where's your mother? - She left.
We studied hard, now we're relaxing a little.
I wouldn't go there if I was you. - What are they doing in my room?
You could have a sauna, eh? I could get my mates out for a bit.
Hello.
Hello.
Here you go.
Take him away. Do you hold any sway over him? There's no point to this.
I do apologise.
Just a moment.
Are you feeling unwell? - No, I was just thinking about life.
Have I committed a terrible sin for the heavens to punish me so?
Disgusted by my own son.
Perhaps I've not lived right, not like one should.
But I've done honest work, never betrayed anyone, never lied.
Or is there an eleventh commandment which we unknowingly err against?
Let's go, please.
Mum!
Why are you crying? - Just because.
I'm back home and...
Were you at school today? - Of course. - Why didn't you come?
Auntie Aita managed to send her regards, and thank you.
Thank me? For what?
For being there for me.
The End.
Translated by Kati Metsaots Subtitles by Mardisupp OÜ
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