ANGELS IN FAST MOTION
I'm a pusher frau from Jutland. I'm having my period.
It gives me a stomach-ache, and I feel nauseous.
I've got 1800 grams of hashish taped to my body -
- and then this happens...!
Asger had said there'd be no police.
He promised me there'd be no police.
It never went wrong before.
First I take the train to Copenhagen...
... and then on to Christiania to get the stuff from our dealer.
- How are things in Jutland? - Okay. And here?
- Okay. - Homesick?
I don't know. How's Asger?
- Okay. - Say hi.
I will... See you.
Hey, don't forget your little present.
So I pocket the lump, catch the night train and go back to Jutland.
End of story.
But it doesn't work anymore.
It's like a prison I can't get out of.
I'm not like this. I'm not.
I only do it, because Asger hasn't got anybody else to do it.
And because I'm the one who knows people in Christiania.
A pusher frau.
She waits on drug users, who come around to buy drugs.
I get them coffee, while they tell me I look good -
- because they want to suck up to the pusher, who couldn't care less.
He's too stoned to notice anything. That's Asger.
He's pretty spaced out and indifferent. To me as well.
But it wasn't like that in the beginning.
He used to be a bouncer. Big and strong, with a sexy tattoo on his ass.
With Asger it was so different! He ate pussy like nobody else.
He was so good at it, and I felt I was in love for the first time ever.
Asger is not a bouncer anymore. He's a full-time pusher.
He's on 6 grams a day, and he has a crazy idea of becoming a tattooist.
He started tattooing some bananas, and then he got a roast pork -
- and now he's dragged half a goddamn pig into our living-room.
It's so gross!
Go away, for fuck's sake! Get off!
What the hell's the matter with you? Strange dogs.
The police was there!
You told me there'd be no police. No police at all.
- How should I know, honey? - You don't know shit, man.
Asger?
Do you love me?
What are you talking about?
- Do you love me? - Why the fuck do you ask me that?
It can't be that difficult. Do you love me, or...
Shut up!
Right... No, she made it.
No, she brought the CDs home. And the washing machine.
They got Lars' stuff. That's good for our business.
- We'll need some more soon. - I don't feel well...
- Probably just your nerves. - No, I'm really...
I really feel bad.
There...
Get some sleep. Then you'll feel better.
- Asger, can't you stay a while? - It's Saturday. Business, you know.
Just for a while.
I never did anything right.
Never.
Nothing.
I never did anything right.
Never.
Nothing.
I never did anything right. Never.
The burn goes from my forehead down across the cheek.
I had three operations in Holland. It won't get any better, they say.
They took skin from my leg and put it on my face.
But my looks are of no importance.
They are to others, but not to me.
I don't care if people stare at me.
I'm not the same anymore, and I never will be.
It happened in the Pacific.
There was an explosion and a fire.
Many were killed. My best friend was a ship's cook.
He died.
The Filipinos couldn't swim. They died.
I didn't die.
I don't like to talk about it.
I dived for as long as I could, but finally I had to get some air.
That's when I got burned.
It's four months ago now.
I left four years ago.
- Hi, Mum. - So you're back?
- Yes, I am. - And you'll stay?
- Yes. - You can't stay here.
I know.
But what have they done to you, Allan?
They didn't do anything, Mum. It was an accident.
Something's happened. All the old shit has to change.
I've made a decision.
My life's going to be proper now. I'll lead a proper life. With a job.
An apartment.
Maybe a girlfriend.
There are four walls.
You can even look out the window.
I'll take it.
I have to see whether my car will start.
It's a Ford Mustang '73.
Can I get you a beer?
- An FF, please. - An FF?
I'm Allan.
- Maja. - Maja?
Yes... Allan.
Maja, that's... Maja, that's a pretty name.
- What happened to your face? - My ship caught fire.
May I touch it?
You want to touch it?
Go ahead.
Thanks.
Hi.
- Hi. - Do you need a lift?
- No. - My car is parked outside.
- What color is it? - Color?
- It's rusty. - No, thanks.
- Because of the color? - Yes.
Listen... I'd like to ask you a question.
I'd like to take you out for dinner somewhere.
- Your choice. - You're strange.
I'll give you my phone number.
Call me, if you change your mind.
I won't.
I'm a drug addict.
I'm definitely a drug addict.
I'm hooked. I'll gladly confess to the fact that I'm an addict.
I'm on Valium, LSD, coke, heroin, methadone, opium, Rohypnol -
- crystal meth, morphine, mescaline, amphetamine, vitamin C and D -
- hashish, pot, hash-oil, skunk.
I'm a word addict. Psychology, the Bible, Shakespeare -
- the Qoran, Donald Duck, Hemingway, Céline, micro-biology -
- Buddha, Danish poetry 1900-1940, Karl Marx, Nietzsche -
- Niels Bohr, Einstein, Camus, Crime and Punishment...
If you could shoot up books, I'd do that! And music...
I just got tired, I think. You know?
Tired of this.
And this.
And this...
I didn't get tired of Tilde. I love Tilde, and she loves me.
It's always been like that.
Sometimes it's too much for Tilde, and she's admitted to the nut house.
She only wears yellow, which should promote a successful reincarnation.
Hi, Thomas.
We became sweethearts when we were 11.
I showed her mine, and she showed me hers, and that's how it started.
- Good to see you. How are you? - Okay, and how are you? Okay.
So everything is okay. That's the ritual, Tilde. Are you okay?
- I feel much better. - Give us a kiss then.
Tilde and me are having cake. Lots of cake. We love cakes.
I got the green one for you, that's your favorite, right?
I'll have the marzipan cake. No, the Goosey Whipped Cream.
- You're far out, Thomas. - Sure I am. I'm expected to be.
- Stop it. - Bums like me are skinny.
I'll get so fat, people won't see the bum. They'll nod and say:
What a good citizen with a double chin and all.
- Why don't you eat your cake? - I want to stop, Thomas.
I can't take it anymore.
Really? Then I'll have it. I can go on all day. I don't know why.
Stop it! You know what I mean. I'm talking about us, not the cakes.
About us? Our relationship and stuff?
Crisis, intimacy, presence, closeness.
- I'm serious. - Listen, the two of us have a pact.
We love each other.
Even when we're apart, we're together, anyway.
It can't be any different, Tilde.
- It's an old pact. - But it still works.
- I don't think so. - And if I sweep the cakes off the table?
Would that help?
Tilde, we belong to each other.
- Go away. - Stop it!
- Are you listening to me? - Go away!
Tilde, it... Let's go home now.
May I look?
- We're not going to make love. - No, I just want to look.
- You may touch them, if you like. - No, I just want to look.
- We've never dated anybody else. - No.
Remember, when we sat in the old truck -
- peeling each other's clothes off? How old were we?
- Twelve... thirteen. - Eleven, I think.
That's pretty advanced for two 11-year-olds.
It's as if the world got bigger with you.
Everything was more fun. More entertaining.
If you don't stop shooting up, you'll die.
No, I won't die.
The drugs are keeping me alive.
You need to take a break, or you'll die.
You're my break.
It's you.
I've met someone else, Thomas.
Someone else has visited me in hospital.
Who is it?
Does it matter?
You can stay here, until you find somewhere else.
Who is it?
- Michael. - Michael? Whose dad has a factory?
That's neat. His father has a factory -
- and then he goes to the asylum and exploits proletarian women.
Neat.
Don't say it's difficult. We had a deal.
- You promised me that... - Honey, go back in.
There's a man in my room.
He has a black slug on his upper lip. What's he doing here?
Asger, your woman is shell-shocked.
No, she's just upset... Honey, Hossein will go with you next time.
I'm not going back to Christiania again. I'm through with that.
- And I need to smoke less. - First you show Hossein the routine.
Get dressed.
You are not well.
Are you in pain?
Are you scared, maybe?
Hossein has something that will ease the pain.
In Persia they say that opium is good for anything.
Good for the pain within.
Very good super aspirin.
My body feels light.
Soon you'll feel much better.
I think the Paki fancies the pusher frau.
Hossein is no Paki. He's Persian.
Well, then the Persian fancies the pusher frau.
- Hi, Steso. - Maria, get dressed.
- It smells of... opium! - Against pain. Too expensive for you.
- Fucking Paki! - Persian.
Fucking Persian, then. Asger? How's my credit?
- Very bad... - Right. I'll just hang around then.
We're all waiting for something bigger and better to hit us, right?
I'm not waiting for anything.
Will you let Asger tattoo your hardened, Middle Eastern body?
Having tattoos is a sin. Your body is a temple.
It's sacred. You don't tag your own temple, do you?
- And you, Steso. You got any? - Plenty. Look!
- Yuck, Steso, why do you get those? - The pills are best when injected.
The physical and psychological agents are fluid.
They add corn starch, paraffin and calcium to solidify it.
- That's what gives you boils. - You're gross!
- What are the dogs called? - Chill and Ace.
- For chillum and acid? - Right.
- Very ingenious, Asger. - Right.
- And yet so sad. - Why?
- Are your dogs ill? - I don't know. Maybe it's the pig.
They're in the bedroom or outside, till I've finished this.
The dogs are used to the hash fumes, and suddenly you kick them out.
So they feel bad. Withdrawal symptoms, you know.
- What are you talking about? - They're junkie dogs.
They are not junkie dogs! They have a pedigree...
- Like you. Your dogs are like you. - I'm not a fucking junkie.
- You don't know what you are. Stop it now!
- I have to go now. - My dogs aren't junkie dogs!
Dogs can't become addicted to hash. What a load of shit!
Asger, must the dogs stay in here?
Yes, until they're clean.
- Did you screw me while I slept? - Yes.
- You can't do that! - I didn't wake you up, did I?
- You're sick! - You always say we don't fuck enough.
And when we fuck, you sleep!
- I hate you. - No, you don't.
You smoke my dope, I look after you, you love me.
- Was it good? - Better than ever.
There's a morning joint on the table.
Shut up in there!
Fucking junkie dogs!
Who the hell is that?
- Excuse me, is Maria here? - Yes... Shut the fuck up!
Someone to see you.
- So this is where you live. - Yes. Please go, Mum.
- It's been so long. - It's rather inconvenient.
- Should we have lunch together? - I don't think so.
- Yes, the small Italian restaurant. - Then you'll leave?
- Yes. - Okay.
- Bye. - Goodbye.
I'm sorry we've lost contact.
That's what happens.
I don't know what I could have done differently.
- Are you going to cry now? - No.
- What does this Asger guy do? - He's learning to become a tattooist.
- And he's a bouncer. - Where?
Here and there.
- I'm glad I found you. - Why?
I've been looking for you. All my letters were returned.
- I thought you couldn't care less. - Why?
Is it really necessary to answer that question?
No.
It hasn't been easy. There were so many things I wanted to do.
It was hard to make everything fit in.
Maybe we could put all that behind us and start afresh?
- Afresh? - Yes.
I'm 23. Don't you find it odd that I'm so much smarter than you?
- You could move back home. - It's not my home.
You could go to college. Get an education.
Why not live your life with fucking Hans Jørgen and leave me alone?
Maria...
- Maria, you're not feeling well. - No, I'm not.
- Why not? - What is it to you?
I care when my daughter is unwell.
Right. I smoked some powerful weed yesterday.
- And then I got scared, and... - Like Dad.
No, Dad took LSD. I don't.
- Do you want to end like him? - And not a self-satisfied hypocrite?
- Absolutely. - But he went completely mad!
This isn't working, Mum.
I feel... I feel as if there's a knife in my heart.
- A knife? - Yes. When I see you.
You'll have to fix that! See you later. Bye.
- Hi, Hans Jørgen. - Hello, darling.
- Hi, Maria. Long time, no see. - He's been looking forward to it.
Lovely place... Thanks.
Maria, we suggest that you come home and settle down.
Then you could go to college and get a diploma.
What is all this about?
It's an offer.
Why are you so fucking interested?
You don't give a shit about me.
You're only interested in your expensive wines and raw steaks...
- I want to help. ... and my Mum's fleshy femininity!
There's only one bad thing about my Mum. And that's me.
Right? Am I right, or what?
Nothing would please you more than my permanent absence.
Right? But don't you worry.
You just carry on with your hypocritical holidays in Barcelona -
- and symphony concerts and all. Don't you worry!
I'll keep out of your sight!
Frank called.
Frank? Did he?
I said I didn't know when you'd be back. Clever, eh?
Very clever!
- What else did he say? - Nothing. But he came on to me.
I don't want him to come on to my little sister!
- But he did. - Well...
Are you feeling alright?
I'm fine. I have a table, a bed, a television set. That'll do.
That's what you got out of sailing? One item of everything.
Other people have, say, two chairs.
Tomorrow I'll talk to the ship yard about a job.
- Do people have two of those? - No.
- I don't think so. - No.
- Have you seen Mum? - Yes. She was almost sober.
- Lucky you. Almost lucky. - Almost.
Frank... It had to happen.
The last person I want to see is Frank.
We became friends in 2nd grade, when he came from Copenhagen.
I took care of him. Looked after him.
We often went out shooting seagulls with my. 22 rifle.
We slept in bivouacs and fried the gulls over a fire.
Frank used to love those trips.
I think Frank got tired of being a little shit.
For a while we pushed drugs. Frank wanted to expand, to grow big.
I didn't visit him in prison, before I left.
Fuck, are you ugly, man. You look totally grilled, man.
- What do you think? - About what?
This place.
- Neat. - It's mine. I bought it.
Remember we talked about having a place together?
I own this place! I fucking bought it.
Look at this.
For you. Here you go.
I don't do that anymore. No more, Frank.
Here's some coffee... Yes, I can.
Yes. Coming up.
You pig! You think you're better than me, but you're not.
- But you think you are. - Shut up, will you?
Listen... It's not like when you left.
I'm in business with the bikers. It's big! You get me, Allan?
That's why I need a friend. Someone I can trust.
Who won't fuck with me.
- And I can trust you, right? - No. I quit.
- There's no way out. - I want a different life now.
- Listen, there's money in this! - Money is no problem.
- You owe me. - I owe you shit.
I was in prison for 18 months. I kept my mouth shut for you.
- It was a long time ago. - Three years ago. Alone in a cell.
Every day I thought of you and the things we were going to do.
- Big things. Are you my friend? - I am.
- Can I trust you? - Yes.
Then go to Germany. Pick up the stuff, come back. You get 10%.
No, I'm starting on a new job tomorrow. A straight job.
You're gonna do this. Okay?
Allan speaking. Hello?
Maja?
I just wanted to apologize for the other night. I was...
...rude.
It was nice of you to buy me a beer and invite me out.
You weren't rude.
What about tonight?
- No, not tonight. - Tomorrow, then?
At 7 tomorrow. I'll pick you up at 7.
- Okay. - Bye.
- Are you waiting for me? - Yes.
- Why? - I'd like to talk to you.
- About what? - About how you're doing.
It's not so strange, since you're the woman I love.
I'm fine.
- Is he nice to you? - Actually he is.
Good... Michael, heir to the factory, is a nice guy.
It's a beautiful story. The ragged-trousered girl -
- and the factory-owner's son. It'll work out fine.
- Do you love him? - I like him.
What will he say when introducing you to his family?
"This is Tilde. Sometimes in a straitjacket, sometimes not.
She's into reincarnation and energies from outer space.
And she has a drinking problem. " That'll be just fine, Tilde. Really.
- What is it you want, Thomas? - Do you love him?
- I don't think so. - No... Why are you with him then?
- Must I love him to do that? - That's a good answer. Cynical.
If you prefer someone you don't love, what is love to you, then?
- Thomas, what do you want? - Answer me: What is love?
Love is what we live for. Love binds it all together.
Good answer. But rather illusive, isn't it? Youthful, but okay.
And it eliminates all the contradictions of love.
Do you realize what a pain you are?
Love is what we yearn for when we don't have it, and run from when we do.
Love invades all the places we'd like to be left alone.
- Nonsense. - Really?
Why do those who preach love live without it? Catholic priests -
- Tibetan monks, nuns, mullahs. They meet the world with empathy -
- but they can't practice the love they meditate into.
Instead they're told not to step on insects or they won't reincarnate.
Love is normal, and that's your problem. It's normal.
Love explains everything. Without love, you're unhappy.
If your love is not requited, you're unhappy.
If you leave your love, you're unhappy. Or if you're abandoned.
In other words: Love is great and important.
Of course it is. But tell me, when do you feel really happy?
I'm happy when I sing. When I drink red wine and sing.
Good answer. And I feel good when I'm intoxicated.
You see? It's got nothing to do with love.
- So there's no need for it? - Of course there is.
But it's a feeling within. It doesn't make any demands.
It just wants to be left alone. We've always known we loved each other.
It's always been like that. Can't we go on like that?
No. We can't anymore.
Hello, pretty Maria.
Hossein, what are you doing here?
Killing my thirst.
- Are you alone? - Yes.
Asger, is he good to you?
Asger isn't good to you.
He doesn't know when to take care of his angel.
Angel?
You called me an angel?
- You look like an angel. - My Dad used to call me that.
I can sense how you feel. My heart aches, when I look at you.
- Who are you, Hossein? - I'm a soldier. An elite soldier.
The best.
I was accused of having shot an officer during the war.
- But you didn't, did you? - Yes, I did. He was an asshole.
He shoved the rest of us and said, "Go and fight!"
He didn't want to go himself. He was a sissy.
Nobody hides behind my back, so I turned around and shot him.
It was an ugly war. Everybody loses everything.
Hossein lost everything, and then he ends up in Denmark.
What you lose is part of yourself. Do you understand what I mean?
I'm a stranger here, and if somebody says, "We don't like strangers" -
- then I say, "I don't care. "
I don't care, and you know why?
Because I like myself, and that's the most important thing.
It's very important. You need to like yourself.
You need to ignore the others, okay?
I tell myself I'm the loveliest person in the whole world.
You need to say that: I'm the loveliest person in the whole world.
Say it... Say it!
I'm the loveliest person in the whole world.
Say it, and mean it. You have to mean it.
I'm the loveliest person in the whole world.
- Say: I'm a lovely person. - I'm a lovely person.
- I'm a lovely person. Again! - I'm a lovely person.
That's exactly what you are, Maria.
You're the loveliest person in the whole world.
Frank, you fool!
Hi.
Where's your car?
- It's being repaired. - How about a new paint job, too?
Of course. What color?
Doesn't matter. As long as it is shiny!
Okay.
- Sorry. - Thanks.
There's 500 on the old dresser. Take it.
But don't take anything else.
I love that music.
I've had fun, Dad.
I've really had fun.
You understand that, don't you?
Sure.
Hey, Steso!
- A smoke? - Get off...
- You wanna smoke? - Are you stupid, or what?
Get off, for fuck's sake!
She slapped him 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 times pointed at the handle
we'll forget it's your mamma's tits you're hanging on
they look like ski socks with patches on
Steso?
I'm 19 years old. I'm on my second education. As a sailor.
I'm already an engine mechanic. I have ambitions.
I've done 3 months on a coaster. I visit my Mum and her husband.
There are two good things about Bjarne: He owns a bus company -
- and he can stand my mother for more than a month.
There's a drinking party going on as usual.
Bjarne and his buddies from the National Guard.
There's one thing Mom and Bjarne have in common: The booze.
I ask about my kid sister. They just laugh. I ask again.
Bjarne hands me a bottle, instead. Then I go upstairs to the bathroom.
My Mum is seducing some young guy. She laughs...
I ask about my kid sister. Her eyes float around her skull:
Your sister is naughty. She's doing a show by the pool in my fur coat.
Like a Lolita, you know.
I slap her and say she's only 11, for God's sake!
I find her in her room. She's crying and she's been puking.
She's been drinking. She won't tell me what happened.
She says it's her own fault, and that Bjarne fondled her breasts.
She hid in her room and some young guy tried to rape her.
It only stopped because she vomited all over him.
I can't control it.
I tell my Mum that Bjarne groped my sister, and that she has to move.
She says I'm a big liar.
I go downstairs and ask who it was. I say she's only 11.
Nobody answers me. Bjarne tells me to cool down.
Then I notice that a guy has vomit on his T-shirt.
I grab him and hit him again and again. He's hurt. Real bad.
I've tried to be different, but to no avail.
So I got 3 months in jail for assault.
My Mum left Bjarne, but she said it was all my fault.
I've tried to imagine your hand in mine.
I've also tried to imagine kissing you and feeling you close to me.
You're too quick.
I don't like it.
You're right. There's plenty of time.
When I got out, I hooked up with a childhood friend.
I began selling coke. Got addicted. Had to sell more to cover my needs.
We owed some bikers. My friend was busted and got a long sentence.
He didn't rat on me, and I paid our debts to the bikers.
I took the first coaster out of town. I never thought I'd come back.
I've never told this to anybody.
Don't ever lie to me.
No.
So many people lie and tell half-truths.
- Yes. - Don't do that.
No, of course not.
This was why I came back. To meet you.
Really?
I had a life back then. A new life is beginning now.
A life that includes you.
Don't say that.
Why not?
All those words.
They can suddenly hurt you.
You lost somebody.
Who?
He just disappeared.
We were getting married.
I hate people who take drugs.
Promise me you'll never do it again.
I promise.
Your friend that you pushed the drugs with...
- Who was he? - Nobody. A real nobody.
Is his name Frank?
No.
Good.
What's going on? There's always trouble with you junkies.
Shut the fuck up!
Fucking cops!
I don't know who's after us. They said they'd been tipped off.
They didn't find the speed, but they took everything else.
Assholes!
- Hey, you don't fucking do that! - Oh, yes!
- It makes people totally crazy. - Let go, damn it!
It wasn't meant to be like this.
I can't stand it anymore.
And you don't give a shit. You're smoking your brains out.
- I'll cut down, okay? - And I'm waiting for nothing.
Everything's falling apart, can't you see that?
The pig stinks like shit, and the dogs are weird, and...
- I suffocate in here! - Then beat it. Go ahead!
Fuck you!
I love you, honey. You know that.
Do you?
I miss you, Asger.
You were so big when I first met you.
You always had a pack of fags in your sleeve.
It smelled so good.
Whatever became of you?
I asked if you wanted an ice-cream.
- Remember? - Yes.
And I asked if I had to lick it, until it got all sticky.
You were so goddamn hot!
And the speed isn't mine. I just keep it for Frank.
- Frank is fucking dangerous! - You have to go to Christiania.
I'm through with that.
Okay, but first you'll show Hossein how everything works.
It'll be the last time.
- Yes. - The very last time.
I'm having my Mum and sister over for dinner tonight.
- Would you like to come? - I'm not any good with parents.
That's cool. My Mum's not a very good parent.
But I don't know you very well.
Yes, you do.
You are weird.
Yes.
You're not dead.
No, I don't think so.
That's good.
Isn't it good?
Yes, it is. It's fucking good.
Good, strong Persian tea.
Thanks.
- We call it "chai". - Chai.
A good soldier always thinks of provisions.
Homemade bread, lettuce, tomato, cheese and pickled cucumber.
- Here you go. - Fantastic.
It's good.
You've got something in your moustache.
Sorry.
Now it looks good again, right?
- You look a real immigrant with that. - What?
It's a handsome moustache. It looks good.
- It looks like a black slug. - It looks so good!
- My father had one like this. - He did?
My brother has one. My whole family has a moustache like that.
- That doesn't make it any nicer. - You think it's ugly?
Yes.
It's a very handsome moustache.
When we get there, we go to Axel, the dealer. Make friends with him.
He can fuck up things up for you.
- How are things in Jutland? - Okay. And here?
Okay.
And when we leave, we should look like lovers who bought a few grams.
Then we find a place to remove the dope, catch the train, and that's it.
I invited my brother and his wife to a beautiful place tonight.
- You're coming along. - I am?
- Hello, and welcome. - Thanks.
Hello there.
- She's so sweet, Sis. - Yes, she's beautiful.
- Hello. I'm Allan's mother. - Yes, I know.
- Where's the black slug? - Black slug is gone.
My father is now rolling around in his grave.
I did it for you.
Thank you.
It's so good to see you again.
I missed you a lot... But what I really want to say is...
I suggest we forget about the past. What happened, happened.
Let's put the hassle behind us. Let's start behaving like grown-ups.
- We'll be together like a real family. - Hear, hear!
Cheers!
Hi.
Hi, Tilde, you cosmic pearl.
Rubbing shoulders with the bourgeoisie, are you?
- A bit. - I'm not a bourgeois.
No, Michael, you're the son of an exploiter. They're the worst.
It's a tradition that the sons of the bourgeoisie -
- cavort with the young women of the proletariat. To know the enemy.
- Fuck you, Steso. - Sorry. I'm no good at the moment.
But thanks, anyway.
I hope you all understand -
- that I was always looking for the love that everybody speaks of.
True, genuine love.
But every time I found it, I seemed to lose it again.
Or he didn't want to be with me...
- Sit down, Mum. - That's all I wanted to say.
Climb up.
It's beautiful!
It's because I'm a romantic.
We have a problem with intoxicants in our family, Maja.
- Did Allan mention his coke problem? - Yes.
You do your best and try your best, but...
Don't drink any more, Mum.
It's not every day your big boy presents a new, lovely girlfriend.
Allan?
- Can't you stay a bit longer? - No.
- I'd like to go home now. - Of course.
Don't get up! I'll find my own way out.
Sorry.
I'm losing it, Tilde.
I'm scared, I'm so fucking scared.
And you can't be a scared junkie. It's really too pathetic.
- One mustn't become pathetic. - No, never.
No.
Will you help me quit? Will you, Tilde?
- Quit totally. - Yes, I'd like to.
- I don't want to die. - No.
Will you marry me?
No.
I thought you were entering the banal phase.
- The what? Thomas...! - It's psychology for beginners.
First you have the oral phase, then the anal phase -
- and then the banal phase, right?
First you think you're a very special individual.
You're different, more profound, more spiritual than other people.
Then comes the banal phase. Once you've lived that, you know -
- that you're no fucking better than anybody else. You're expendable.
You're quite ordinary. You'll die, you'll be buried, eaten by worms -
- be forgotten by posterity like all other mortals out there.
Once you know that, you've grown up.
And grown-ups marry. Will you marry me, Tilde?
Because we missed the train. Yes...
We'll take a later train, then.
Yes.
Yes, see you later.
I should have warned you.
You did.
Yes, I guess so.
Can I trust you?
Yes, you can.
Great evening.
Can you lift it a bit? And stand still!
- Stand goddamn still! - Yes... Is it okay?
- Yes. Pull those tits up. - Jesus, man...!
- Good! - Do I look like a real person now?
- Like this. - Good. Stand still now!
The tattoo is finished. The pig can go out now.
- Beautiful, isn't it? - Damn beautiful.
- Don't move now! - Makes me want some crackling!
I thought you took the night train.
We missed it. I told you.
- Everything okay? - Fine. It's all in the bag.
I haven't exactly told Frank that I was interested.
So Frank will have to tell me.
I just have to take it. There's nothing to do. I've been there before.
What the fuck are you up to, Frank? Enough's enough.
What's happening to your face, man? You're even more ugly now.
- I think you'll lose your job. - What should I do?
- Pay your fucking debts! - I owe you nothing.
You owe me everything, and you know it! You're no better than me!
Say it! You're a self-righteous prick!
You're no better than me.
Okay.
- What do you want me to do? - Sit down.
You go to Germany and pick up that amph.
And then we're done?
How much?
- 50 kilos. - Are you crazy?
Listen, I'm expanding. This is big business.
All dealers get it from one place. My place!
The bikers love the idea as long as they get their 20%.
- What happened? - Fuck that! Are you in?
- Hell no. It'll cost me 12 years. - You won't get caught.
Frank. I'm through with that.
I'm out, do you understand?
Listen, you're the only one I ever cared for.
I talked to your girlfriend today.
Or so-called ex-girlfriend.
I got the feeling she doesn't want to see you again.
Maja.
Maja!
She's a sweet girl, Allan. And she was sweet back then, too.
Back then? What the fuck are you talking about, Frank?
When she used to hang out here.
Back then. When your little angel came here.
She really dug into the stuff.
She wasn't addicted, you know. Like this, you know.
But she dug in.
She had this boyfriend called Leif.
Scaffolder-Leif. He was a scaffolder. Don't you remember him?
He helped me out with small things, so I gave him a lot of speed.
He got deeper and deeper into it. He was crazy about her.
Leif really loved the chick, but he was weak.
So he got more and more hooked. The girl wanted him to stop.
But I didn't. I still needed him, so I gave him lots more.
Then I knew where to find him. Well, one day he fell down.
He fell off the scaffolding, man. And died.
Maja, I have nothing to do with him.
- Go away, Allan. - He just thinks so.
- I haven't seen him for three years. - Get out!
So the chick got pissed off, and for a whole year -
- she came here, dressed in black, and sat at the table down there -
- lighting small candles and staring into them.
You know what you are? You're a loser! Just like the rest of them.
I guess it was grief. Or something.
That's how it is, Allan. With love.
Methadone's good. You have to move around in order to make it work.
I can feel it now. Exercise and drugs. Now it's working!
This is brilliant. One ought to write books about it.
- Thomas. - Tilde.
The money.
Hello! Where are you, man? Allan! Wake up!
Is the deal on?
- Is it? - Yes.
It's a fucking fortune. And I borrowed the money.
You look after it! It's not mine.
Okay? Hello?
- Hello. - Okay, Allan?
We'll party when you get back. This is for the road.
It's very simple. We deliver, you sell.
But some of my clients want the good shit...
Listen, we deliver, and you sell.
- But I can still go to Copenhagen... - We deliver! Are you deaf, man?
I'm thinking of quitting. Look at this...
Take a look at the pictures. They're right here.
I'd like to be a tattooist. It's an old dream.
What do you think?
If you ever tattoo anything alive, I'll kneecap you.
- Leave the tattoos to somebody else. - Why?
Because those are the fucking rules from now.
I'm finished.
- I'm goddamn finished. - No, you're not.
- What would I do without you? - I don't know.
We never do things together anymore.
No.
We could go to the beach, walk the dogs.
You could make a lunch basket, like it used to be.
Yes, why not?
- And Hossein could come, too. - Yes.
- Why? - Well, I kind of owe him.
Have a schnapps.
Cheers!
- It's strange with you, Hossein. - With me?
You're always around. Here and there and everywhere.
But nobody knows what you're really doing.
The war taught me one thing. You can only trust yourself.
You learned that in the war?
- But there's no war here. - Stop it, Asger.
What do you mean?
- You've gone too far. - Asger, shut up.
- Too far? - Yes, you've gone too far.
Hossein? Gone too far?
Hossein owns all of us. Did you know that, honey?
What are you talking about?
Hossein lends people money. And his interest is just below the rest.
They all go to him.
He knows them all. Plays them out against each other.
And if they go against him, they regret it.
Right?
He's a Paki with a war trauma who acts like a biker.
And now he's screwing you, honey.
The price for screwing my girl is 58,000.
That's what I owe, right?
Yes.
You owe him money?
What the fuck are you doing?
Asger, what are you doing?
What are you up to? Stop that! Don't!
What the hell are you doing? Stop that shit!
What the hell are you doing? Stop it!
Psychopaths!
Did you really think I meant to shoot you?
It's much too dangerous. Although you damn well deserve it.
But I just don't want junkie dogs.
Asger, don't do that!
Asger, stop it!
Don't...!
Frank? Allan speaking. Great...
Meet me on the bridge, okay? Yes, now.
Maybe I should have stayed away.
Maybe I wasn't meant to come back.
Maybe everything is pre-destined.
Not the cleverest place to meet.
Allan, you're home, man.
You made it. You're free.
Come on, now!
Are you insane?
Listen... Hello! Take it easy, man.
Give me the other one. Cool it! We'll forget it all.
Just give me the other one.
- This one? - Yes. Take it easy, man!
What are you doing? You asshole! You fucking bitch! I'll cut you up.
You're fucking crazy! Come here!
Stay there! You stay fucking put!
For some reason I thought of the time we souped up his moped.
It could go 60 miles an hour -
- and he came back from the first trip with red cheeks.
Fucking cunt! I'll kill you!
Free dope in the harbor!
Steso!
It's wild, man. Good you're here. The harbor, you know...
It's full of speed. We just have to fish it out. Come on, man.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!
You stay put.
Listen, you saw what happened, right?
It wasn't my fault. You saw what happened. I have to owe you, man.
Mum? Dad?
Mum?
Ex-junkie. Retired drug addict.
Support groups with whining morons.
Insomnia. A fork-lift truck certificate paid by the Council -
- if you don't relapse. They are all so very proud.
No thanks. That just isn't me.
He would kill me. I was sure of that.
I waited two days for him. But he didn't turn up.
Frank had disappeared. He'd simply vanished.
Thomas, for God's sake.
Thomas, come on. Thomas, come...
Thomas, come on, now.
Thomas!
Thomas, come on. Wake up.
Thomas.
Thomas!
- Hi. - Hi.
I heard what you did.
- Would you like some coffee? - No.
I just wanted to see that you were okay.
Subtitles: Allan Hilton Andersen Dansk Video Tekst
Ripped by: SkyFury