Original subtitles

The picture for this release was sourced from a 16mm negative.

The audio was sourced from a one inch video master.

Icelandic folktales tell of a magic practice that women sometimes resorted to

long ago in times of hunger and hardship.

In order to come by more butter than their own farms could produce,

they would bring to life a tame imp, called in Icelandic a “tilberi”.

They made the tilberi from a human rib wrapped it in wool

and kept it between their breasts.

They could send the tilberi out to suck milk from other people's cows and sheep.

When the tilberi came back to its mistress, it would say: “Here's a bellyful Mommy”

to which she would reply: “Let it out, son!”

Then it would disgorge butter of an unusual consistency,

and butter that looked like this was known as tilberi-butter.

If the sign of the cross was made over this butter, it revealed its evil origin.

The woman could live on this butter

while the tilberi itself fed from a nipple inside the thigh of its mother or mistress.

If the tilberi was discovered by anyone else,

it attacked the woman and sucked so violently as to kill her.

Communion wine was necessary to bring the tilberi to life

between the woman's breasts.

Audun, will you come and see me when you're ready?

Was the church full? - Not by half.

People have so many other distractions nowadays.

Like sports, for example.

But man does not live by bread alone.

I've just had a letter.

From Gudrun?

No, from the Reverend Runolfur, my colleague in Reykjavik.

Does she still practice as hard as ever?

Practice? Oh, you mean swimming.

He doesn't say.

But he says he saw her a lot at Easter.

An odd way of dealing with a weakness for drink.

Which she might have got from her mother.

It's as if the devil himself is loose in Reykjavik.

And now you're going there, I hear?

Yes. I need a bigger pool to train in.

Yes, of course. A bigger pool.

“Launch out into the deep, young man!”

And now to the point.

I want you to ask about my Gudrun

and to talk to her yourself.

You were confirmed together,

and she'll be more open with you than with Reverend Runolfur.

And then drop me a line.

“Shame on this age...

and on its lost principles!”

Reykjavik Spring 1940

Left, right, left, right...

Hurry up with those sandbags, boys!

I'm supposed to report for work somewhere here.

Are you the new man? What's your name?

Audun Thorarinsson. Audun with one n.

Help the lads to get on with this.

Hymn of the Passion No. 31: Christ's sermon to the women.

How do you like working for the Brits?

- It's all right.

Can't you try and learn some manners from them too?

Like using a knife and fork?

Sigrun, you haven't touched your supper!

No, I'm feeling a bit off-color.

I think I'll go out for a bit of fresh air.

Fresh air!

“See how fickle is this world's fame, Insincere, false, deceiving.

Heed not, my soul, its praise or blame, Its false pretense perceiving.”

You are the same age and were confirmed together.

She wasn't like that then!

“The blood of Christ. The cup of life.”

“The blood of Christ. The cup of life.”

“The blood of Christ. The cup of life.”

Now we're grown-ups, Audun. At least Gudrun and I are.

It means that games aren't make-believe any more.

What games?

Lie down.

Swimming Pool Open... Closed...

They've got red ones here as well. - Hey.

Chewing gum?

Chewing gum!

Oi! What the hell's going on over here?

Go! Get a move on!

What's this then? What's this supposed to mean?

Milk? Milk is for babies, not for men.

Get back to work, you lazy git!, go on! Go on!

Hello!

Is that yours? - So it seems Sir.

Have some chocolate too!

Cheerio, old chap! And keep on swimming!

How come the lowest form of life knows Major Tilbury then?

Aye?

What the fuck are you doing, you little Eskimo leper you?

Oh what a godforsaken fucking country!

Ready Steady...

Leave me alone!

What have I done to you?

Let me go!

Let me go!

What's happening? Should we call the police?

Bardi Kemp charged with illegal possession of arms!

And they've built a gun emplacement at the pool.

Why did he have to go waving a starting-pistol?

Perhaps the British heard he was a Nazi.

He only swam at the Berlin Olympics.

And splashed Hitler, didn't he?

By mistake. He dived badly and splashed into Hitler's box.

He was kicked out of the competition.

And then he went to Ysufjord to teach you and Gudrun how to swim?

Do you know Gudrun Innness?

Sightly. Saw her last at a dance at the weekend.

I've been Rooking for her all summer.

I have a message from home for her.

She seems to have stopped swimming.

Maybe she'll start again now the British go to the pool

and Bardi Kemp's out of the way.

Hey youl! Tell us who you are!

I shan't put this water in my Scotch.

But you can put it in your pipe and smoke it.

Our officer, Major Tilbury is quite an eccentric chap,

don't you think?

- How do you like his homemade butter?

♪ - For he's a jolly good fellow... ♪

Audun! I thought you were a ghost!

What do you want?

- I thought I saw Gudrun over there.

- Yes it's her.

Give her a chance to come and say hello.

It mustn't be known that a parson's daughter...

But to answer the call of nature...

- Who was with her?

- With her? Only me.

She was taken short, and there are so few places.

No, wait! You don't understand.

It's so easy for you men.

- This is sacrilege and disrespect to the dead!

Audun! Good to see you, though not like this.

- Who was with you? - What do you mean?

He thinks we're going with the soldiers.

Audun, what's the meaning of all this?

- I should be asking that.

Your father asked me in the spring to check on you.

I don't think he would like to hear about this.

- You've been here all summer then?

A pity we didn't meet before now.

Don't be so jumpy.

Remember, there's a war going on.

It's serious. Not a game like in the old days.

You were always such a baby.

You never understood anything.

Bardi Kemp was getting so keen on me..

Already back at home.

Did something happen to you?

You know how it is. I wanted to do things my way...

To be independent... But then you find out...

- Have you had it looked at?

- What?

Oh, that!

I cut myself on some barbed wire.

I'm not supposed to swim till it heals.

But I don't care since Bardi Kemp out of the way.

- You must keep in practice.

It would be a sin not to.

- You're right. Everything else would be a sin.

Who is Gudrun's partner?

He even turns up late!

I thought the British were so well-mannered.

- He's one of the top brass. A major.

An aristocrat related to the Royal family.

They have it posh at the officers' table, don't they?

We always said at home

that Gudrun would at least be a bishop's wife.

- But no one thought

she would marry into the British royal family..

- They're not exactly planning on marriage..

- Why not?

- They say divorce isn't easy in Britain.

- You mean..

Hell, no!

Heavens above! Gudrun, the parson's own daughter,

having an affair with a married man.

- Don't go telling her father about this.

Who says they're even in love?

She told me she regards him more as a father.

Anyway, he's a gentleman.

Knows how to eat with a knife and fork.

Not like your ordinary Icelandic yokel.

Sorry. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings...

- To think that the daughter of the Reverend Thornton Guinness

has found herself a new father in the British army!

It's not this one, is it?

- Good Lord, no.

I shouldn't have told you all that.

You mustn't tell her father.

She doesn't really think of Tilbury as her father.

He's really more her son. - What?

- Well, he's all alone, completely lost in this country...

- Is his name Tilbury? - Yes.

Like some chocolate? - Half! Thanks.

You could offer me a drink too.

The Brits don't stop at giving girls Cadburies...

- What would you like? - Double gin and tonic, thanks.

- I'll go and look for a waiter.

Get outta here you! Look! Get over here!

That's no way to treat a lady, you bastard, you!

Get this fucker over here! Get him out! Come on!

Jesus Christ, I'm going to throw up.

I need some help over here!

Gudrun Innness. Innness

with three n's... Remember!

- Lie down.

- Learn to use a fork like a gentleman.

Here's a bellyful, Mommy!

- Let it out, son.

Audun!

- Bardi Kemp Are you here?

- Yes, ever since Gudrun denounced me for Nazism

and had me locked up. - What?

- Don't pretend! I heard you shout out in your sleep.

You called out, "Tilbury!"

- So what? I had a nightmare.

- You must know about Gudrun. She's got a tiiberi.

Even though she dresses him in a British uniform.

Tilbury is a tilberi which she brought to life.

- Atiiberi! But that's just superstition!

- Is it? Put two and two together, man!

Look at her with the wine in church,

and going into the graveyard

and then that plaster on her thigh...

You should see her home at Asvallagata 32.

It's full of various products!

That's the Jewish mentality that goes with the occupation.

Sell your soul for trash and sweets!

- You're still a Nazi, Bardi.

How do you know it was she who had you locked up

and not this... Tilbury?

- She knew I was onto the truth about her.

She had to get rid of me.

I surprised her making Cadbury's chocolate

from tiiberi-butter.

She begged me not to tell anyone,

because then she would be doomed in the Devil's power!

I wasn't going to let her get away with it.

But she acted first and denounced me to the Brits.

Now you must get me out of here!

So I don't have to wait till Germany wins the war.

- I wouldn't hurt Gudrun.

- But if I get my hands on Tilbury...

Audun! Go away! He'll kill me if he finds you here!

He will not starve you to death, anyway!

That's true. He's a super provider.

Have some more chocolate!

Go away! Hide!

You must hide somewhere!

Here's a bellyful, Mommy.

Let it out, son.

So you speak Icelandic, you filthy swine!

Reykjavik Autumn 1941

What the hell is that all about?

That chap's been pestering us for months.

He wants us to find a certain major

who, he claims is responsible for the death of an Icelandic girl.

- Is it anything I should pass on to my military police?

- No no no.

There's no record of this major ever been in the British army.

No records whatsoever.

The chap's quite mad. I suppose he can't get used

to the fact that he lost his girl to the British soldiers.

Yeah, well they must find it pretty hard to take around here,

bunch of backwater peasants and fishermen.

Suddenly swamped with thousands of foreign troops.

- Yeah, I suppose so.

There was one thing though this crazy Icelander was talking about,

about this major. This particular major was always puking butter.

Because of this fact he was supposed to be some kind of Icelandic ghost.

- Butter! -Butter.

It's these we need. Not butter.

- Well, we Americans will make sure you'll get all the guns you need.

Is that the big shot?

I'll be damned if it isn't old General Tilbury himself.

What the hell is he doing in this Godforsaken place?

Let it out, son.