Original subtitles

(Lou, Russian accent) Doctor Breuer.

I must see you on a matter

of life or death.

Meet me at nine tomorrow morning

at the Cafe Rousse.

[violin music]

(Breuer) A matter of life

or death! Hmpf!

[exchange of greetings]

Doctor Breuer?

Lou Salome.

How do you do?

May I?

Would you like a coffee?

Yes, caf� latte.

Waiter, caf� latte, please,

My friend is preparing

to kill himself,

This man's death would have

momentous consequences

for me, for you, for all of the world.

Who is this friend?

The philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche.

Nietzsche? Should I

know of him?

Not yet, but in time we shall all

know of him.

(Nietzsche) How do

we confirm

a truth that has arrived through disbelief

and skepticism

and not through some childlike wishing

something were so.

It is hard to be in God's hands.

It's not truth.

It is a child's wish for the everlasting

blow to the nipple.

We have evolutionary theory,

Evolutionary theory scientifically demonstrates

God's redundancy.

So Darwin himself had not the courage

to follow his evidence

to its true conclusion. So--

where are we?

Surely you must all realize we

have created God--

and all of us together

have killed him.

God--

is dead.

My friend is sick.

What is the nature of his illness?

Headaches. Tormenting headaches,

My dear lady, I will see

your friend.

I'm a physician.

I know you can cure his physical condition,

That is not why I am here.

Nietzsche suffers from the deepest despair,

That is what I ask you to heal.

I cannot cure despair.

Ah, but you can, doctor.

I have a spy.

My brother, a medical student,

attended the class in which you described

a new technique.

The talking cure.

Now I can arrange to steer Nietzsche

to your office

but he must believe you're treating only

his headaches.

Tell me, is yours a Russian accent?

It is.

Well, perhaps the people in Russia

believe in sorcerers

but sorry, fraulein, I am Austrian.

I have no magic to offer you.

(Lou) May I walk you

back to your hotel?

I would enjoy that but--

my wife will be watching from the window.

I have a duty.

A duty?

It is my duty to be free

of duty.

Doctor, save Nietzsche.

(Breuer) I am sorry.

I had hoped it was hepatitis,

(patient) How long--

do I have?

It is best you put your

affairs in order.

Please, doctor.

How long?

(woman) Please.

Tell us.

Three to six months.

(frau Becker) Are you

alright, doctor?

Make sure the Pfeiffers are never billed again.

Of course.

Cancel all their outstanding

debts to me.

Of course.

A Fraulein Salome has suddenly arrived.

A very grand young woman.

Show her in.

But Frau Reinhardt has been waiting

for hours.

Frau Becker!

Fraulein Salome!

Doctor Breuer.

I see you like to do things

for yourself,

Doesn't that deprive men the pleasure

of serving you?

We both know that some of the services

men provide are not necessarily

good for women.

The habits of a lifetime

are not easily extinguished, my dear.

Your future husband will need

extensive retraining.

No husband for me. Ever.

I would not do that to

a man.

If then or ever you use this

new technique,

do not attempt to use this mesmerism method

with Nietzsche.

Our patient would refuse to engage

in any process

he perceives as surrendering

his power to another.

And are you responsible for

"our" patient's despair?

He believes I am.

Where has God gone?

I shall tell you.

God is dead.

We all have killed him,

You, you, you and I.

(priest) God will throw

you in hell!

After the death of Buddha,

his shadow was shown for centuries in caves.

A gruesome, gruesome shadow,

God will punish you!

You are Satan!

Given the way of people

[slam]

in the caves, thank you,

for thousands of years, in which God's shadow

will still be shown.

Vanquish the shadow within yourself!

(man) Friedrich. Friedrich.

Meet Lou Salome.

A brilliant poet from Russia.

Fascinating lecture to fall on so

few ears.

Why are people so afraid of

you, professor?

Oh, truth is a fearsome thing.

Why do you say God is dead?

And not that he never existed?

What you think?

That God has ceased to be a reckoning force

in people's lives.

An interesting interpretation.

But if God is dead,

then everything is permitted.

No morals, no rules.

Without God, who will organize

our society?

What is the solution to your

godless proposition?

From what stars have we dropped down

to each other here?

auf Wiedersehen.

(Lou) I was immediately

attracted to him.

Seduced by his intellect.

We could say so much to each other with

half sentences.

Mere gestures,

He became obsessed,

proposing marriage after our first meeting,

I was attracted to him.

But not romantically.

I wanted to learn.

Not to submit.

Stop it!

My refusal turned his love

into hatred.

He wrote me these crazed

insulting letters.

Then he wrote about killing himself.

So if I understand you correctly,

you want me to persuade Nietzsche

that his life is worth living.

But I must accomplish this without him

knowing it.

You are the only doctor qualified

for this psychological treatment.

frau Reinhardt is still waiting.

And still suffering.

(Lou) One more thing,

You must read his books,

I shall do everything I can

to help your friend.

Good night, Dr. Breuer.

(Breuer) Good night,

Straight home, fishman.

[gasping and sobbing]

(Breuer) Siegmund?

Siegmund?

Where are you racing to?

The most charming woman in Vienna invited

me for dinner.

Her more charming husband is

on his way home this very minute.

Jump in, Siggy.

I diagnosed a liver cancer today.

I never get used to my patients dying.

Well, get used to it, young

Dr. Freud.

The children are eating.

Say hello to them.

Daddy!

My little chickens.

See what I mean, Siggy?

He hardly talks to me.

[soft piano music]

Oh, by the way I've taken on

a new patient.

I haven't met him yet,

Suicidal tendencies,

As always, it starts

with a woman.

But Josef, love sickness is not

a medical condition.

The story gets even better.

Because the woman feels guilty,

she wants me to sneak in a cure for his

psychological distress.

While at the same time, I address his

physical ailments,

Surely, you're not going to attempt this.

[sigh]

I have already agreed.

Why?

I don't even know myself.

Perhaps I need a challenge like this.

You cannot say no to this woman.

She could persuade a horse to lay eggs.

(Lou) Our plan

is working.

Dr. Oberbach has persuaded

Nietzsche to consult you,

Neither I nor Nietzsche

shall ever forget your kindness,

The professor is here.

(Breuer) Send him in,

Good day, Herr Professor.

Please. Please, have a seat.

Tell me about your illness.

Would it be more efficient

to review my previous consultations?

I'm sure they're excellent physicians,

thank you.

But I make my own diagnosis

before reviewing those of my colleagues,

Just as I prefer to see a play before

reading the reviews,

Tell me, professor, to what extent--

has melancholia accompanied these

migraine attacks?

I have my black periods but who

does not?

Speak not of me

tell me of my illness.

What it might be?

A life dominated by black periods

is a breeding ground for despair.

Despair? No.

Perhaps once but not now.

No.

I'm just pregnant.

Here.

My headaches are the labor pains for

my new book.

What book?

[sings loud]

(Nietzsche3 Zarathustra!

A young prophet, bursting with wisdom

and courage and truthfulness

decides to

enlighten the people,

I teach you the Ubermensch.

Man is something that must be overcome.

What have you done to overcome man?

What is the ape

to man?

[laughter]

A laughingstock, but I feel

no shame.

lust that, man shall be

to the Ubermensch!

People refused to understand

those words.

The prophet, realizing he has

come too soon

returns to his solitude,

So--like-- Zarathustra,

I come too soon.

I must ask you a personal question.

Physical wellbeing is not separable

from social and psychological wellbeing.

Is there someone with whom you have--

You referring to sex... Doctor?

Well--

I have found that a flash

of bestial pleasure

is followed by hours of self-loathing, so,

such herd pleasures are not for me.

But is there a Woman

in your life?

Every time I have attempted to build

a footbridge to others, I have been betrayed.

first, there was the composer,

Richard Wagner,

I have suffered because of him,

and later, my best friend--

with that--woman.

Tell me more about that--woman.

And why?

It's connected to your illness,

Trust me on this.

I cannot afford to--trust--again.

Then I believe, Herr Professor,

that we can proceed no further.

(Breuer) Have a safe journey

home, Herr Professor.

[horse neighs]

(driver) Stupid animal!

(Nietzsche) Hey, out! Leave

the horse alone!

Leave it! Leave it,

I tell you!

[thud and gasp]

(Breuer) Are you alright?

[neigh and shh]

[heavy breathing]

Can we meet--again? [panting]

Friday afternoon, same time?

Good night.

(Breuer) Breathe deeply,

Bertha.

Did you have any dreams

last night?

Yes. I dreamt you were making

love to me.

Really?

Yes.

I'm just going to examine you,

don't worry.

It's perfectly normal,

What are you doing? No!

I want you!

You are mine!

[laughter]

(female voice) No, Josef!

No, Josef!

How could you?!

(Breuer) Mathilde!

What are you doing?!

That is horrible! Horrible!!

Dr. Breuer! You are now

a free man.

Go back, you syphilitic

whore! He's mine!

No! He's mine!

Mine!

He is mine!

He's mine!

No! He's mine!

[shouts and grunts]

[music plays]

[gasp]

(Breuer) "There was a time

in our lives

"when we were so close

"that nothing seemed to obstruct

our friendship.

"When only a footprint

separated us.

"I asked you, 'Do you want to cross

the footbridge to me?'

But you did not want to."

What do you make of it, Siggy?

I'm not sure.

Let's reason it out. The first man can no

longer cross because

he feels he is submitting his power

to the other person.

Yes. Yes. You're right.

He interprets any expression

of positive sentiment

as a bid for power.

It makes it almost impossible

to get close to him!

It's all here.

May I see it?

And reveal his identity?

And why not?

Perhaps if you lend this book to Siggy

you won't hide in your study all

night reading it.

Mathilde, stop.

What am I to do when I watch you

withdraw more and more from me

and the children?

First that woman!

Now this Nietzsche!

Friedrich Nietzsche?

To this day I regret listening

to you.

The transfer of Bertha to

another doctor

remains one of the great shames

of my life!

Excellent books.

Very few copies of them sold.

Then your publisher is

a fool

for not championing these with his

life's blood.

You're writing in short and

brief sentences.

It is my ambition to say in

ten sentences

what others say in a whole book,

Hm.

As to your migraines,

I believe their fundamental cause

lies in stress,

Due to upsetting events in your work,

your family,

your personal relationships.

I've given up teaching.

I have no home to look after,

no wife to quarrel with,

no children to discipline.

I have no obligations

to anyone.

I have no stress.

Your extreme isolation is stressing itself,

Great thinkers choose their own company, no?

Undisturbed by the mob.

Consider Thoreau, Spinoza, Buddha.

Professor.

Stress is our enemy.

My task is to help you reduce stress in

your life.

I propose that you enter my

Lauzon clinic

for one month of observation

and treatment.

We have new medications

for migraine.

I will visit you daily.

I'm unable to pay-- for such services.

Money doesn't matter to me.

It will be free.

And why are you

doing this?

You came to me for help.

I offer it. I'm a doctor.

Far too simple.

Human motivation is far more complex.

What is your motive?

Why are you here?

Because of pressure from my friends and

my headaches,

I ask again. What is

your motive

if you don't request payment

for such services.

One practices one's profession.

A cobbler cobbles.

A baker bakes. A doctor doctors.

Why do you write? Why philosophize?

You want nothing from your work.

I do not claim I philosophize

for you.

Whereas you, doctor, continue to pretend

that your motive is to serve me.

Such claims have nothing to do with

human motivation.

Now what are your motives?

My motives?

Yes!

My motives?!

Who can answer such a question?

I believe you are destined

to become a great philosopher.

My mission is to aid you in becoming

who you are.

So you as my savior can become

even greater?

I did not say that!

Do you know my patients

are the leading scientists and

musicians in Vienna?

Yes, and at this moment you use their eminence

to enhance your authority with me!

I will never exploit your name.

I will still be used

by you!

Nonsense!

Your charity, your techniques

to help me?

To manage me!

All of these with you stronger

at my expense!

This is a perfect example of why

you cannot dissect your own psyche!

Your vision is blurred, Professor!

You need help!

You are about to make

a mistake!

Then go already!

You crazed deluded creature!

Shabbat Shalom.

[all repeat softly]

[cheerful piano music]

[screaming]

Come here! [laughs]

[banging]

The old Bishop, Nietzsche,

he's dying in my hotel!

[driver coaxing horse]

Get me some ice!

Dear God!

Bring me some blankets!

[moan]

Herr Professor.

[gasp]

Professor Nietzsche. friedrich!

[gasp]

Take the pain. Take the pain in.

You will feel better.

[gasping] Help me.

[gasp]

That much chlorine is a poison

in the sleeping juice so you could

have died.

Oh, living, dying, who cares?

I shall be in your office tomorrow

with what I owe.

Before my train leaves for Basel.

Basel?

Yes.

Not until this crisis

is over.

I'm leaving tomorrow.

[waltz music]

You know, part of me

holds some--

strange hope that by helping this

bizarre creature

overcome his own suffering,

I might defeat my own,

Defeat your suffering?

You're the envy of every doctor

in Vienna.

One feels things at 4O

that one cannot possibly know

at 25.

I must stop him from leaving.

There must be a way.

Perhaps if you'd fully disclosed

yourself to Nietzsche,

you might have engaged him.

Once you gain his trust,

he might open up like

a steamed clam.

I think I know a way, Siggy.

I think I know

a way.

Your documents and receipts,

Herr Professor.

Auf Wiedersehen.

Auf Wiedersehen.

[door opens]

Professor Nietzsche.

May I have a word before you leave?

I have a proposition to make, Professor,

Perhaps never before made by a doctor

to his patient.

I propose a professional exchange.

for one month, I will act as

physician to your body,

if you will act as physician

to my mind.

What do you mean?

That you doctor me and I teach

you philosophy?

No, no, no.

Not teach me.

Heal me.

Of what?

Despair.

I see no despair.

Not on the surface.

But underneath,

my mind is invaded by alien thoughts.

I've lost sight of why I live.

I'm terrified of death, yet--

I often think of ending my life.

I cannot help you with this.

I've no training.

Who is trained?

Such healing is not a part of

the medical discipline.

What do I know

of this?

You know more than any man alive.

Aren't your books entire treaties

on despair?

I can't cure despair. I only know how

to tolerate it.

Then teach me how to tolerate

a life of despair.

You were right that your mission is

to save humankind from illusion

and aimlessness.

To create a new code

of behavior.

A new morality free of superstition.

It's all there. In your books.

This is my offer.

You enter my clinic

for 30 days.

I will observe and treat your medical illness daily.

In return, you become

my physician,

and help me talk about

my life's concerns.

Look.

I'm indebted to you--

more than any man.

You saved my life.

I'm just a writer.

I'm not a doctor.

You can pay your debt by

saving my life.

The way I saved yours,

So what?

I do this for you to--

relieve my debt?

My motivation--

is entirely self-serving.

I want to save

my life,

but are you strong enough

to do this?

(Breuer) I will persuade him

that he is the only one

who can help me.

And then what?

Then I will reverse the roles.

He will once again be the patient

and I will be the physician.

And what happens when Nietzsche

turns to you to cure his despair?

Siggy, I'm convinced there's something

healing in unburdening.

Look at the Catholics.

Their priests have been offering confessions

for centuries.

Nietzsche is a solitary man.

Yet a few nights ago

he opened up to me.

A real plea for help.

Help me.

What you saw were his unconscious desires.

Those that if they were liberated

could scream

for help in daylight.

The goal of my talking cure

is to liberate those buried desires,

to allow the patient to ask for

help--openly.

(Sigmund) But is "liberation Integration"

the right term?

Isn't it "integration" that we are after?

Integration of the unconscious

with the conscious.

Yes!

Yes, Sigmund!

Very good.

Take a seat.

Remove your stethoscope.

And your coat.

As well.

I made a list of your complaints,

One, you have a general unhappiness.

Two, you're besieged by alien thoughts,

Three, self-hatred.

four, fear of aging, five, fear of death,

Six, urges toward suicide,

Anything else?

I feel--

completely--

remote and distant from my wife.

Trapped in a world not of my

own choosing,

And is that One more

problem or two?

You make me feel uncomfortable.

It is my task to make you

feel comfortless.

No, no, no. Your approach

is all wrong.

Mr. Breuer, we made

an agreement.

"Mr." Breuer?

Do you want us to proceed,

Mr. Breuer?

You've mentioned your wife last,

Which tells me it begins there.

What initiated this change--

in your feelings toward her?

[gentle thunder]

[clears throat]

Two years ago I took on the case

of a young woman.

This patient --I gave her the

pseudonym Anna O. --

suffers from what we doctors call

hysterical behavior,

[screams]

Try to stay calm!

(Breuer) During our daily

meetings, she--

opened up to me, She had the details

of every disturbing event

of the last 24 hours.

She called these confessions

"chimney-sweeping."

[clears throat]

I prefer to call it-- the talking cure.

Unfortunately,

the course of treatment

was terminated

by its insane ending,

How?

I fell in love with my patient.

She and her mother were friendly

with my wife.

[heavy breathing]

Bertha.

What's wrong?

Stop it, Bertha!

What's wrong?

I'm pregnant!

I'm pregnant with your husband's baby!

(mother) Bertha!

(Bertha) Here comes Dr. Breuer's

little baby!

Bertha! No!

Stop it!

Stop it! Bertha!

It was her delirium speaking, of course,

her illness.

But my wife forbade me

to see her again,

What did you do?

I'm sorry, my dear. I cannot be your

doctor anymore,

But I've done nothing wrong.

Of course you haven't.

I will refer you to a colleague

of mine.

He will take good care

of you.

Please don't let me go.

I have no choice.

You will always be the only man in

my life. Always.

Can you imagine how terrible it was

to hear those words?

They were evidence of the damage

I had done.

I left her weakened.

Crippled.

You are responsible for all of your thoughts

and deeds.

But she, by virtue of the so-called illness,

she is exonerated.

from everything.

Who has damaged whom?

Who has weakened whom?

Doesn't this cripple Bertha, as you

call her--

have greater power over you?

An excellent beginning.

He even developed a list of my problems,

Breuer is a curious mix,

Intelligent yet blind.

Sincere but devious,

Let him continue to think that this

is what we are doing,

He's possessed by a woman who

shreds him to pieces,

[chuckles] And he licks

her bloody fangs,

[Nietzsche, laughing hard]

I love it, Josef.

What do you love?

Tchaikovsky!

Why?

Swan Lake!

[bells ringing]

[Breuer screams and Nietzsche laughs]

Josef, look! We're running

out of time!

[thunder]

Backwards! Look at the time!

Faster, Josef! Pedal faster!

[Swan Lake ballet, playing]

Take me, Josef. Take me!

Throw away your shackles!

Sticks and stones may break my bones,

but death will never hurt me!

[Swan Lake, playing and thunder]

[gasping and thunder]

(Breuer) I feared that after

yesterday's confessions,

you would think less of me.

Do not worry about what others

think of you.

I suspect you find sex disagreeable.

I do not object

to sex.

What I hate is the man

who begs for it.

He surrenders himself to some crafty woman

who turns his lust into her strings.

Lust is part of life!

And nothing must interfere with

the development

of the hero which is

inside you!

And if lust stands in the way, lust

must be overcome!

(Breuer) Be more practical.

All you give me are quotes from

your books!

first time I've attempted to put my philosophy

to practical use,

Choose between comfort and the truth.

Are they mutually exclusive?

If you want to choose the pleasure of growth,

prepare yourself for some pain.

Less pain, shrink. Go. Be part

of the herd.

[soft playing]

[abrupt loud notes]

Look at this tree.

It requires stormy weather

if it is to attain its proud height.

Learn, creativity and discovery,

But they come in pain!

(Breuer) I wish for

simple things.

To sleep without nightmares

[sigh]

to live without tension.

Lie down.

Why?

It's the best inducement

for recalling memories. Lie down, please.

Close your eyes,

Let us imagine

An icy mountain peak,

And we see this little man

trudging to the top.

He's looking into the horror

of his existence.

He is encountering times that are endured.

[thunder]

But he sees too much.

This insignificance, this mere

little speck

that he is.

[loud thunder]

And now his fear becomes so raw,

that he welcomes lust into his mind.

And he starts looking into this castle.

He begins to spend his time recollecting

these miracles,

How his little crippled Bertha

moves her legs,

Her lips.

And her arms.

And her breasts.

And his mind

which was filled with the noblest

of ideas

becomes clogged now with trash.

And that is how he is today,

He's just rummaging through the rubbish.

Of Bertha.

As if it contained the answer

to his prayers,

Well, what do you think

of this man?

Josef, open your eyes.

Open your eyes,

Talk to me, Josef.

This is my way.

Where is yours?

[cheerful piano music]

He asked you to lie on the couch? Why?

He said it was the best way

for recalling memories.

Interesting.

He is honoring his contract,

but offers no support,

My confessions have failed

to produce

even the slightest admission of his

own obsession.

Is your frustration rooted in your competition

with him?

Not at all.

I'm a physician, Siggy.

I do not meet with my patient for

my pleasure.

But Josef, I've read

his books.

He has more penetrating knowledge

of mankind

than any other person. I think, he may

be, perhaps

the greatest psychologist who has ever lived.

You can best help him by letting

him help you.

[soft piano music]

[woman sings in foreign language]

[heavy rain and thunder]

Josef?

[pigeons cooing]

[crashing thunder]

Josef? It's after midnight.

Are you coming to bed?

Soon.

(distant female voice) Dr. Breuer!

Dr. Breuer!

Dr. Breuer!

Where is my wife?

Your wife-- is in the house!

Mathilde!

Mathilde!

(Bertha) You'll always be

the only man in my life.

Always,

(Bertha) You'll never regret

it, Josef. Never.

You will never regret it, Josef.

Never.

[ship siren]

[crashing thunder]

I feel healthy.

I wish to waste none of our

precious time

on these physical exams, hm?

Uh, before we begin,

the last time we met you called me "Josef."

I like that. Should we use

first names?

Friedrich or--?

Fritz.

Friedrich.

My best friend at school was

called Friedrich.

He used to call me the lad

of infinite promise.

What happened to the lad?

He became a successful doctor.

And respected, And rich,

Then you have fulfilled your goals.

You are satisfied?

I have fulfilled my goals, yes.

Am I satisfied?

No.

How did you choose your goals?

No, don't-- don't think.

lust chimney-sweep,

Hm.

Goals are part of my culture.

They're in the air. You breathe

them in.

Like every young Jewish boy,

I wanted to climb out of the ghetto

to succeed.

My father was the great teacher

of my life.

No, Papa.

No, Josef. I won't encourage

bad habits.

But I never chose goals.

They were just there, like--

like an accident.

And yet not to take possession

of your goals

is just that, let your life

be an accident.

What is wrong, Josef?

I've had a sudden and painful understanding

of the obvious.

Time is irreversible,

The sands of my life are running out,

I'm in lockstep with all people

marching towards my death.

So you see clear vision as a wound,

Knowing that as my death approaches,

I'm impotent and insignificant, yes.

That does not mean that existence has

no purpose.

On the contrary, As death

creeps closer,

the value of life increases.

You must learn to say "Yes, " Josef,

But say "yes" to every minute

of life.

Be passionate. Be a free

thinking spirit.

Rise above your limitations.

Be the Ubermensch. Hm? Please.

Please, Fraulein. Will you take

a seat?

The Russian is here.

Let her wait.

[chiming]

Good afternoon, Frau Pettik. Please

take a seat.

Herr Schubert, hello.

Take a seat. The doctor will be with you shortly.

Please, understand, I'm very sorry.

Please, the doctor will see you,

frau Pettik, the doctor

can see you now.

What a pleasure.

I had forgotten,

Then look more carefully

this time.

I'm distressed at having so little

time to offer you.

The price of success,

Dr. Breuer.

You like to live dangerously.

Tell me, why didn't you write

so that I could arrange a proper

time for you?

I am concerned about our patient.

Our patient?

Have you graduated from medical school

since our last meeting?

You must read these letters

Nietzsche sent me.

He writes as if to punish me.

"You are a woman without sensitivity

or spirit,

incapable of love, a predator clothed

as a house cat."

Why does he regard me as

such a monster?

I deserve to know the outcome

of my efforts.

The outcome of your experiment.

It's been lovely to see you,

but I must return to

my work.

Where is he?

I cannot tell you.

Or the state of his condition.

You turn your back

to me.

I cannot violate my patient's--privacy.

[slam]

(Sigmund) Perhaps you are

not capable

of being hypnotized.

Perhaps,

I didn't tell you she left some of Nietzsche's

letters with me.

Hm. And?

He berates me for feeding at

the trough of lust,

and all the while, he himself,

just like me,

is rummaging through the trash

of his own mind.

You think he should answer

for his falsifications,

may I remind you of your own.

Of the deceptive premise of your arrangement

with him.

Of the two patients in this relationship,

I have become the more urgent case.

(male voice) General.

What are you doing, soldier?

Trying to kill myself, sir.

Carry on, soldier.

Yes, sir.

[gun cocks]

[cocks again] General, help

me please!

The interesting thing is that in my dream

the general was you.

And why me?

A symbol of your unwillingness

to join me

in a down-to-earth manner perhaps?

Be open with me.

I presume that, like all men,

you've suffered from love-sickness.

Have you ever tasted the pain of love?

Yes.

And?

I must know.

Let me remind you of Goethe's words.

"Be a man. Do not follow me,

but yourself, "

Teaching philosophy and using it

in the real world

are Very different undertakings.

You wish for something to soothe you now.

Then go, suckle on the teat

of superstition,

Whatever you do, don't go to reason,

Unfortunately, the theatrical director

of my mind,

the one who stages all these scenes

with Bertha

is unaffected by reason.

Of course not. for what reason

will a man

could love such a cripple?

Oh, stop it!

Bertha is intelligent, beautiful, loving!

Loving? How?

She tried to seduce you

into adultery.

She almost destroyed you,

You are too hard on her.

Well, next time you go to her,

don't forget to bring your whip.

Yes. I think to love such a woman

is to hate life.

Bertha is a fine woman.

May I remind you she became ill

because of her father's death?

And may I remind you all fathers die?

I think the time for excuses is over.

[happy laughter]

(Bertha) You will always be

the only man in my life.

(Breuer) friedrich, I need

your help.

Attack my obsession, It's ruining me!

Do you want war?

Yes!

You will follow my directives

without question.

Absolutely.

Sit.

Please.

Close your eyes.

[sigh]

Imagine--your life-- with Bertha.

But I don't want to!

Please, Josef. Relax.

Now, you're starting your day.

You're having your breakfast,

with Anna O.

I want you to compose a list of 1 O insults

and I want you to hurl them

at her.

To her face?!

Yes.

What? Like "ugly?"

Precisely.

Ugly, yes.

Ugly.

Scream it out!

Ugly!

Stupid! Cow!

Whore! Sow!

Cross-eyed! Monster!

Cripple!

That's nine. One more.

Idiot!!

Good. How is she responding?

I love you.

Banish the tranquil idea you've composed.

See Bertha as she would be now

each morning,

Spasms, her arms and legs in spasms,

Cross-eyed, Mutant.

Hallucinating.

Suffering!

[screaming]

See her as the infant she longs to revert to.

[rattle and giggling]

See her as an adult, sitting on the toilet

as she does each day,

Ooh. Hi, Josef.

[farts]

If you are alone and you begin

to think of her,

tell her "Go away, I hate you!" as

loud as you can.

You pinch yourself as hard as you can!

Say it!

Go away!

Pinch yourself! Pinch yourself!

Pinch yourself as hard as

you can!

Go away! I hate you!

Listen. If you're ever alone

and you begin to think about her, shout

"Go away, I hate you" as loud as you can.

Say it. I hate you.

I hate you!!

I hate you!

I hate you!!

I hate you!

I hate you!!

Louder! Say it.

I hate you,

Say it! Josef, if you are ever alone, you begin

to think of her,

you shout "Go away, I hate you" as loud

as you can. Say it.

As loud as you can. Say it. I hate you.

Go--away!! I hate you!!

I love you,

(Breuer) Go away!

I hate you!

What are we waiting

for, Fishman?

(fishman) Yeah, ho!

Hm.

Your heart is strong.

But mine is close

to bursting.

After yesterday, I feel like a bear

being trained to dance,

It's true. I've lowered you.

And myself.

And a teacher should be

a raiser of men.

We are missing something.

Yes, we've neglected to understand

the meaning

behind your obsession.

How can we discover the

meaning of something

that I myself have concealed?

By talking about it.

What would your life be if there

was no Bertha?

Life without Bertha--

would be a colorless one.

Everything would be decided.

This medical bag, these black clothes.

I'm a scientist. Yet science has

no color.

I need passion!

I need magic!

That's what Bertha represents.

Life without passion, without mystery?

Who can live such a life?

But he is expecting me.

You're lured to mystery. You're lured to danger.

But I hate danger.

I live my life safely.

Living safely is what's dangerous.

Living safely is dangerous?

Nietzsche, there is no Professor

Nietzsche here.

Check again.

There is no Professor

Nietzsche here.

Perhaps Bertha represents my

desire to escape

my deadly safe life, the trap of time.

Time is our burden, Josef.

The greatest challenge is to live in

spite of it.

I hate women with lips.

Why do you show me this?

Because she has a combination

of lips,

eyes and breasts--

that give her almost superhuman powers.

Powers to do what?

When I'm with her,

I feel that I'm in the center

of an orderly,

tranquil universe.

An intensely beautiful place

where there are no questions

about life or purpose.

Like walking on clouds.

Where do your thoughts go now?

Her eyes-- they glisten,

She doesn't speak,

yet she talks to me.

And what does she say?

She says--

"Josef,

you are adorable."

And in that moment,

I am.

When she told me one day that she

dreamed of us making love,

I was ecstatic.

What a victory,

To enter a place where no man

has ever been.

Have you ever known a Bertha, Frederich?

friedrich,

I once knew a woman who could

not be denied. Yes.

Tell me more about this woman.

What was her name?

Do you still love her?

We are more in love with desire,

than the desired.

[opera music]

(Breuer) Si99y.

These sessions with Nietzsche

have become the center

of my day.

Why?

The relief of disclosure.

Perhaps in 5O years this talking cure

might develop into a precise science.

I thought I could

help him.

No longer.

He has everything to offer me.

I'm wondering if part of this

talking cure

involves learning with the patient transfers

to his doctor.

Shh.

What would it be to live as

Nietzsche lives?

No house.

No obligations,

No wife. No responsibilities.

(Lou) "Goodbye, my

dear Lou.

" I won't see you again,

"You've caused damage. You've done harm.

And not only to me, but to all people

who loved me."

(Nietzsche3 "And this sword

hangs over you,

But I hope you will make

good to Henry,

what you couldn't make good to me,

(Nietzsche) Yes!

You make music sick.

You are sick! You are sick!

[taps rhythmically with foot]

[orchestra begins to play]

Wagner.

The first requiems.

You make music sick!

You tyrant! You tyrant!

You antisemite!

I hate you!

I hate you!

[loud music]

[Nietzsche, shouting,

no music]

Wagner, You make

music sick,

[music]

Hate. Hate.

Hate. [gasping]

Fritz.

Fritz.

[music]

late.

Fritz!

Hate!

Look at me!

Talk to my animals.

Fritz!

late.

(Breuer) I visit my parents'

grave once a month,

Would you like to come with

me today?

It's less than one hour's ride

from the city,

Why didn't you tell me your mother's

name was Bertha?

She died when I

was three.

I have very few memories of her.

No conscious memories.

Are you suggesting I love Bertha

because she and my mother shared

the same name?

[thunder]

My mother is hardly

real to me.

Bertha Pappenheim is the most real

thing in my life.

I think your obsession

with Bertha

has never been about Bertha.

A year after my father died,

I had a dream.

This grave opens,

and my father rises up,

and he runs to this church.

It's where he preached,

And he grabbed this small child,

and he climbed back--

into the grave,

I always believed that this dream

predicted my brother's death, but

I suspect it was my own--

it was my own fear.

I was that boy.

[thunder]

In my father's arms.

And fear is expressed in your dream

where you--

plunge towards the closed coffin.

Who is inside the coffin?

I don't remember.

Who is the one who stops you

from falling

to your death?

Your crippled Bertha?

Or perhaps your mother?

The real Bertha.

Who, Josef?

Who is inside the coffin?

I can still see her face.

She's smiling at me.

Hm.

Your mother?

How could she leave me?

[trembling breaths]

I never really let her go.

Perhaps adult figures enter a child's mind

and refuse to leave.

But you must be as frightened as

I am of death--

and godlessness.

We must die. But at the

right time.

Death only loses its terror when

one has

consummated one's life.

Have you consummated

your life?

I have achieved a great deal.

But have you lived your life?

Or have you been lived

by it?

You stand outside your life, grieving,

for some life that you--

you never lived.

I cannot change my life!

I have my family, my patients!

Students.

It's too late.

I cannot tell you how to

live differently.

If I did, you'd still be living

by some other's design,

but perhaps I could give you

a gift, Josef.

Maybe I could give you a thought.

What if some demon were to say to you

that this life, as you now live it,

have lived it in the past,

you would have to live once more but--

innumerable times more.

There will be nothing

new in it.

Every pain, every joy, every unutterably small

or great thing

in your life would just return to you.

The same succession, the same sequence,

again and again,

like an hourglass of time.

Imagine infinity.

Consider the possibility that every action

you choose, Josef,

you choose for all time.

Then all--unlived life

would remain-- inside you.

Unlived, Throughout eternity,

You like this idea?

Do you hate it?

Which?

I hate it!

Why?

The only thing I love about my life

is the thought

that I have fulfilled my duties to my wife

and children.

Duty?

Your duty is a sham.

It's the curtain you hide behind.

To truly build your children,

you build yourself. First.

And as for your wife, let her break out from

this prison you share.

And be broken by it.

Hm?

(Sigmund) Are you sure

about this?

To continue with the sense

that I have not lived.

That I have not tasted freedom.

The idea fills me with horror.

Help me, Siggy.

Fly! Fly!

Fly! You're free!

You're free!

And you too are free.

(Mathilde) free them?

This is madness,

Suddenly I find that I am old.

I am facing death without having

lived my life!

Since when is there your life and

my life?

We made a covenant to share our lives.

Leave if you want!

But not until I tell you about the cruel

joke of freedom.

I wish I had your freedom.

Freedom of a man to obtain

an education.

To choose a profession.

I wish I had the vocabulary,

the logic

to express just how foolish

you sound!

Mathilde, if I am able to

find my life

we will both be better off.

Perhaps I will come back

to this life.

But it must be my choice!

Have you forgotten about the choice you

made in marrying me?

What choices does a deserted

wife have?

You are young, rich, attractive!

You will be as free

as I am!

We have three children!

Mathilde, I should have been I before

I became we!

Words! Words! You cannot live

in words!

I choose my life, too.

And I choose to tell you

you cannot return to this house

because it will no longer be

your home!

Once you leave, I will no longer

be your wife!

Mama!

Say goodbye to your father,

children.

Forever.

Please, Papa, don't leave.

[weeping]

Get out there. Leave, if that's

what you want.

Robert, I'm still your father.

No, you're not my father anymore.

Robert.

Goodbye, my little chickens.

I only have one life!

(Breuer) Nietzsche is right.

My freedom has been here all along for the taking.

Now is my last chance,

This is my one and only life.

I'm looking for Bertha Pappenheim,

She's in the garden with the doctor.

Should I inform her you are here?

No, thank you, I shall wait.

Please, wait for her upstairs.

Thank you.

I love you.

You will always be the only man in

my life.

Josef! How are you?

Papa, don't leave,

(Nietzsche) Having doubts, Josef?

How could I have given

up everything?

You'd given up everything long

before you met me.

Yes, but now I have nothing!

And nothing is everything.

In order to grow strong, you

must first

sink your roots deep into nothingness,

But learn to face your

loneliest loneliness,

[weeping] My wife.

My children.

How could I have left them?

You must be ready to burn yourself

in your own flame,

How could you become new,

if you would not first become ashes?

Waiter.

Josef?

Dr. Breuer?

Josef!

Where are you going?!

What a ridiculous man.

(Sigmund) Josef, come back?

Josef!

Josef! Look out!

Josef!

Josef! Come back!

Josef!

Josef!

Josef, listen to me.

[choking]

Eight,

Seven,

Six,

five,

four,

three,

One,

[gasping]

You're wide awake now.

Where am I?

Where am I?

Everything's alright, Josef.

Siggy--

what's happening to me?

You are in your house.

It'll all come back to you.

I did exactly as you instructed.

I hypnotized you using your watch

as a pendulum.

Here it is, Josef, on your desk.

Yes. Yes.

Yes, I remember.

How long was I under?

Nearly an hour.

You wept, you looked frightened,

I asked you if you wanted

to stop,

[gasps]

Now I know what it would

be like--

to live differently.

Max and Rachel have arrived

for dinner.

Mathilde.

You complain you don't see

enough of me.

Yet, when I'm here,

you want to desert me?

I've been away, my dear.

But now I am back.

I'm glad you're here.

Dr. Freud, my husband

needs a doctor.

To your health, my boy.

And to you, Max.

(Max) And to

you, Josef.

Cheers.

Oh!

[whistle and chuckle]

Mmm.

My boy, my boy.

Excuse me.

[trembling breaths]

[breathes in sharply]

Have I made you cry?

It's a good cry. It's sad too.

When I think how long it's been-

Marry me, Mathilde. Please.

I think we did this 15 years ago.

And I choose to do it again.

Today.

And every day for the rest

of our lives.

(Nietzsche) So, tell me, how

did you cast her out?

Well, I was terrified by aging and death.

I fought back but blindly.

In desperation, I attacked my wife

and sought rescue in the arms of one

who had no rescue

to give!

In a certain sense, I've betrayed you,

I have been so dishonest

with you.

Completely.

I was myself involved

with a woman.

A few months ago.

Her name was Lou.

Not so unlike your Bertha.

Beautiful girl.

I fell in love.

She just appeared to be my twin brain.

My soul's mate,

And she led me on to believe

that I was the man to whom she was

destined and--

I believed her,

And when I offered myself to her,

she spurned me--

in favor of my best friend--

in the world.

[thunder]

I must tell you that there

is not--

not one day that goes by--

not even an hour,

where I do not think

of that woman.

She is your Bertha.

But you see? You've been doing

double work here.

Yours and mine.

I'm like the most cowardly of women.

And I crouch behind your back here,

letting you face all the dangers

all alone.

You have courage.

Friedrich, there is something I must

tell you.

Dr. Breuer?

How do you do?

You must read these letters Nietzsche

has sent me.

These are my private letters.

You did see her then?

Yes, but I refused her.

So all of this was just

a pretense.

I made a promise to help you.

I never betrayed that promise.

What did she do? She took you

by the arm?

Told you she had to spend more

time with you?

I shared one, one holy moment

with her,

it's the only holy moment

I've ever known.

No one fell in love with

me, ever. Ever.

Friedrich, it may have been a holy

moment for you,

but not for her.

What are you saying?

She never mentioned the water?

No.

I feel such a loss.

Hm.

I don't know.

I think I've lost Lou.

And you.

Everything, I lose.

I could have [indistinct]

from your mind.

And you have a family.

You have your family and I have

my pretenses.

My secret little ways of tolerating

my aloneness.

But I glorify it, don't I?

And I just don't want to die alone.

I don't want my body just to be discovered.

By its stench.

Lou softened that fear for me for a while.

But you're right.

It's just an illusion.

Friedrich.

It's such an illusion.

friedrich, She does care

about you,

She went to extremes

to help you.

If your tears had a voice,

what would they say?

I feel so ashamed.

Tell me.

My tears would say

we're free.

You never let us out,

until Dr. Breuer opened the gate.

And what about the sadness

behind those tears?

It's not sadness. It's such a relief.

It's such a relief!

It's the first time I'm revealing

my loneliness.

It's melting. It's melting away.

It's a paradox, Isolation exists

only in isolation.

Once shared, it evaporates.

My dear friend.

We are friends.

I like saying that.

No one ever said this to me.

I like it.

I like it.

We are friends.

Friedrich.

It's good.

Stay with us tonight.

Have supper with me and

my family.

No, it would mean to abandon

my mission.

It's time we went

our ways.

"We'll have friends, and have become

strangers to each other,

"This is as it ought to be.

"We do not want either to conceal or obscure

the fact

"as if we had to be ashamed

of it.

We are two ships, each of which has

its goal and its course."

And finally, Dr. Breuer,

"We have to become strangers to one another

because it's the law to which we

are subject."

Have a safe journey.

My dear friend.