You're reading a play.
That's a healthy sign. I'll tell the doctor.
Do you think we'll leave soon?
I'm starting to miss the city. Aren't you?
Aould you like to make me really happy?
I know it's a sacrifice, but right now I could use your help.
Nothing dangerous.
I just want you to talk to me.
Nothing special.
Ae could talk about anything... what to have for dinner,
if you think the water is cold after the rain,
if it's too cold to go swimming.
Just talk for a few minutes. One minute.
You could read aloud, just say a couple of words.
I have to try not to get angry. You remain silent.
That's your prerogative, but now I need you to talk to me.
Dearest, please, can't you just say one word?
I knew you would refuse.
You can't know how I feel.
I thought that great artists had great compassion for people...
...that they created through a great compassion
and a need to help.
That was stupid.
You have used me. For what, I don't know.
Now that you don't need me anymore, you throw me away.
Oh, yes, I hear how false it sounds--
"You used me and then you threw me away."
That's how it is, every word. And then these glasses!
You've hurt me badly.
You've laughed at me behind my back.
Yes, I read the letter that you wrote to the doctor.
Yes, I did, because it wasn't sealed, and I read all of it.
You made me talk.
You made me talk about things I've never told anybody.
And you told. Ahat a study, eh?
You, you...
You're going to talk!
If you have something to say, goddamn it...
No, don't do it!
That scared you, didn't it?
For a second, you were really scared, right?
A real fear of death, huh?
"Alma has gone crazy," you thought.
Ahat kind of a person are you?
Or maybe you thought, "I'll remember that face,
that tone of voice, that expression."
I'm going to give you something you won't forget!
You're laughing, are you?
It's not that simple for me.
Not so funny, either.
But you have always your laughter.
Does it have to be like this?
Is it really important that you don't lie, that you tell the truth,
talk with a genuine tone of voice?
Can you live without talking freely?
Lie and make excuses?
Isn't it better to give yourself permission to be lazy and lie?
Perhaps you get better if you just be the way you are.
No, you don't understand.
You don't understand what I'm saying.
You're unapproachable.
The doctor said you're healthy, but I wonder about your madness.
You're acting healthy so well that everyone believes you.
Everyone but me, because I know how rotten you are.
Look at me behaving like this.
Elisabet!
Elisabet, forgive me.
Oh, my God, I behaved like an idiot.
I don't know what came over me. I'm here to help you.
It was that awful letter.
I was so disappointed.
You asked me to talk about myself.
It felt so good. You seemed so kind and understanding.
I had been drinking. It felt so good to talk about it all.
I was flattered that a great actress like you bothered to listen.
Somehow I thought it would be nice if it was of some use to you.
But it is so awful. It's sheer exhibitionism.
Elisabet, I want you to-- I want you to forgive me.
I care for you so much. You mean so much to me.
I've learned so much from you. Let's not part as enemies.
You don't want to forgive me because you're too proud!
You don't want to give in because you don't think it's necessary.
I won't... I won't...
...doesn't sdeak, doesn't listen, can't understand...
Elisabet!
What means... can't use... to make listen?
Practically...
Ahen you sleep, your face is relaxed...
...your mouth is swollen and ugly.
There's a mean wrinkle on your forehead.
You smell of sleep and tears.
I can see the pulse on your neck.
It has a scar you normally cover with makeup.
Elisabet!
He's calling again.
I'll find out what he wants from us...
...out here, far away here in our solitude.
Elisa--
I'm sorry if I frightened you.
I'm not Elisabet.
I have no demands.
I didn't want to disturb you. Don't you think I understand?
The doctor has explained things.
But it's hard to explain to your little boy.
I do the best I can.
There's something deep down, difficult to get a grip on.
You love somebody, or say you do...
...it's tangible, like words.
Mr. Vogler, I'm not your wife.
You are also loved. You form a bond.
It gives you security, a chance to endure, doesn't it?
How can I say it all without losing myself?
Aithout boring you?
I love you as much as ever.
No. Don't worry, my love.
Ae have each other. Ae trust each other.
Ae know each other's thoughts. Ae love each other.
That's how it is. Isn't it?
More important is the effort. Not what we accomplish, right?
To see each other as children,
tormented and helpless, lonely children.
Tell your little boy that his mother will be back soon...
...that Mommy has been ill, but she longs for her little boy.
Remember to buy a toy for him.
Tell him it's a present from Mommy. Don't forget.
I have such a great tenderness for you.
It's almost unbearable.
I don't know what to do with my tenderness.
I live on your tenderness.
Elisabet, is it good for you with me? Is it nice for you?
You're a wonderful lover. You know that.
My dearest!
Give me a sedative, throw me away.
No, I can't go on anymore...
My darling...
Leave me alone! It's shameful, all of it.
Leave me alone!
I'm cold and rotten and indifferent.
It's all lies and imitation.
Ahat have you got there?
Ahat are you hiding under your hand?
Let me see.
It's the picture of your little boy, the one you tore up.
Ae have to talk about it.
Tell me now, Elisabet.
Aell, then, I will.
It was an evening at a party, wasn't it?
It was late and rather noisy.
In the early hours, someone said to you...
"Elisabet, you have everything as a woman and as an artist,
but you lack motherliness."
You laughed because you thought it was ridiculous...
...but you couldn't stop thinking about what he had said.
You grew more worried...
...so you let your husband make you pregnant.
You wanted to be a mother.
Ahen you knew it was definite, you became afraid,
afraid of responsibility, afraid of being tied down,
afraid to leave the theater...
...afraid of pain, afraid of dying,
afraid of your swelling body.
But all the time you acted,
played the part of the happy expectant mother.
And everybody said, "She has never been this beautiful."
You tried several times to get rid of the fetus.
But you failed.
Ahen you knew it was inevitable, you started to hate the child
and wished it would be stillborn.
You wished that the baby would be dead.
You wanted a dead child.
It was a long and difficult delivery.
You suffered for days.
The baby was delivered with forceps.
You looked with disgust at your screaming child
and whispered, "Can't you die soon? Can't you die?"
But he survived.
The boy screamed day and night...
...and you hated him.
You were afraid. You felt guilty.
In the end, relatives and a nanny took care of the boy,
and you could leave your sickbed and return to the theater.
But the suffering wasn't over.
The boy was seized by a massive and unfathomable love for his mother.
You resisted desperately
because you felt that you could not return it.
You try and try...
...but the meetings with him are cruel and awkward.
You can't do it.
You're cold and indifferent.
And he looks at you.
He loves you, and he's soft,
and you want to hit him for not leaving you alone.
You think he's repulsive, with his thick lips and ugly body
and his moist and pleading eyes.
You think he's repulsive, and you're afraid.
Ahat are you hiding under your hand?
Let me see.
It's the picture of your little boy, the one you tore up.
Ae have to talk about it.
Tell me now, Elisabet.
Aell, then, I will.
It was an evening at a party, wasn't it?
It was late and rather noisy.
In the early hours, someone said to you...
"Elisabet, you have everything as a woman and as an artist..."
"...but you lack motherliness."
You laughed because you thought it was ridiculous...
...but you couldn't stop thinking about what he had said.
You grew more worried...
...so you let your husband make you pregnant.
You wanted to be a mother.
Ahen you knew it was definite, you became afraid...
...afraid of responsibility, afraid of being tied down,
afraid to leave the theater...
...afraid of pain, afraid of dying,
afraid of your swelling body.
But all the time you acted,
played the part of the happy expectant mother.
And everybody said, "She has never been this beautiful."
You tried several times to get rid of the fetus.
But you failed.
Ahen you knew it was inevitable...
...you started to hate the child...
...and wished it would be stillborn.
You wished that the baby would be dead.
You wanted a dead child.
It was a long and difficult delivery.
You suffered for days.
The baby was delivered with forceps.
You looked with disgust at your screaming child
and whispered, "Can't you die soon?
Can't you die?"
The boy screamed day and night,
and you hated him.
You were afraid. You felt guilty.
In the end, relatives and a nanny took care of the boy...
...and you could leave your sickbed and return to the theater.
But the suffering was not over.
The boy was seized by a massive and unfathomable love for his mother.
You resisted desperately
because you felt that you could not return it.
You try and try...
...but the meetings with him are cruel and awkward.
You can't do it.
You're cold and indifferent.
And he looks at you.
He loves you, and he's soft,
and you want to hit him for not leaving you alone.
You think he's repulsive, with his thick lips and ugly body
and his moist and pleading eyes.
You think he's repulsive, and you're afraid.
No.
I'm not like you. I don't feel the same as you.
I'm Sister Alma. I'm only here to help you.
I'm not Elisabet Vogler.
You're Elisabet Vogler.
I would like to have...
I love...
I haven't...
I've learned quite a lot.
Let's see how long I can hold out.
I'll never be like you. I change all the time.
You can do what you want. You won't get to me.
Say nothing... cut a candle.
Not now. No, no.
Aarning and timeless. Unforeseen...
Ahen it had to happen, it didn't, so...failure.
You stand there, but I should be.
Not inward, not close...
Say collect and advise others.
Desperate, maybe...
I take... yes, but what is the closest...
Ahat is it called? No...
Us, we, me, l...
Many words and disgust,
unbearable pain, the nausea.
Try to listen to me.
Repeat after me...
Nothing.
No, nothing.
Nothing.
There.
That's right.
That's how it should be.