Mother?
Alexander... What is it?
Would you like to play cards before dinner?
FANNY AND ALEXANDER
This will be our forty-third Christmas together.
- My dear Ester, is that true? - Yes, 43 Christmases.
- Well, well, who'd have thought it? - Yes, it's strange.
Dear Ester...
- Good evening, Mrs Ekdahl. - Good evening, girls.
Alida, you may go in to the other girls.
- Why are you so sullen? - I'm not sullen.
- You're sullen every Christmas. - I don't know what you mean.
You're sullen, and that's that!
Old bitch...
"Worthy Joseph, do not fear
Thy angel is thee ever near
I come in haste to bring thee word
From thy creator and thy God
Mary and the child now wake
And quickly into safety take
Herod with his murdering hand
Threatens every man-child in this land
All this I have noted well
And shall do as you foretell
Praised be God upon his throne
Who thus protects my only son
Thus, good people, ends our play It all ends well this holy day
The son of God, saved from the sword Is our Saviour, Christ, the Lord
We know that in his mercy mild
He guards every woman, man and child
A time of joyous Christmas cheer We wish to all, both far and near
Let no one into darkness fall
A Merry Christmas one and all!"
By tradition, the Ekdahl family treats the company to a Christmas party.
The guests are rather a mixed lot,
quite different than the class of people who dine here.
Nevertheless, refrain from displays of priggishness and disapproval.
I expect a spirit of generosity, warmth, and helpfulness.
Have I made myself clear?
Alma and Petra, take the hamper. I'll take the punch bowl.
Are we ready?
Forward march!
Come, Carlchen. We mustn't disappoint Mama again and be late.
Come along...
Hurry up now. Come on.
Come with me...
Merry Christmas!
Merry Christmas, Oscar!
Please, help yourselves!
Go ahead... Don't be shy!
My dear friends...
For twenty-two years, in the capacity of theatre manager,
I have stood before you and held a Christmas speech.
In spite of my lack of talent...
...in that department.
Particularly when compared to my father,
who was brilliant at making speeches.
And who...
My sole talent, if you can call it a talent in my case,
is that I love this little world.
The little world inside the thick walls of this playhouse.
And I'm fond of the people who work in this little world.
The outside world is bigger,
and occasionally this little world succeeds in reflecting the bigger one.
Helping us to understand it a little bit better.
Or perhaps we give the people who come here
the opportunity to forget it for a while...
...for a brief second or two.
A few brief seconds where they can forget the harsh world out there.
Our theatre is a little...
...a small space filled with orderliness, conscientiousness...
...and love.
I really don't know why I feel...
...so comically solemn this evening.
When you have given Ismael his dinner,
put out the lights in the shop and lock the door.
I have the key with me.
- Good night, Aron. - Good night, Uncle Isak.
Oh, Isak...
Merry Christmas.
I can't imagine where everyone is,
they should have been here ages ago.
I expect Oscar is making a long, dull speech.
- I think I can hear them out front. - Ester, bring me my furs.
Here comes my family.
Merry Christmas, Grandmama.
Merry Christmas.
Dear Mama, you look radiant.
Lovely...
What is it, my sweet?
Aunt Emma, how nice to see you.
Welcome, Aunt Emma.
The only question is where Carl and Lydia could be.
- Maybe they mistook the hour. - Christmas dinner is always at 4:30.
Alexander, go ring Uncle Carl's doorbell and see if they're in.
- Please hurry, Carlchen. - Shut up!
We're so very late, and it happens every year...
- I'm doing this for your sake. - No more now, mein Carlchen.
And it's for the last time, too...
- Mama! - Hello, Carl.
Merry Christmas.
Well, at last we can have dinner.
- Fancy a visit this evening, Maj? - Go on, sir...
- How are you, sir? - I'm fine.
I do believe I should give the girls a hand with the tree.
Have you noticed that my old man has begun to court Maj?
- Doesn't it bother you? - No, I find it rather sweet.
Come here, children.
Uncle Carl is going to treat you to some Christmas fireworks.
All right, then...
Number one!
Here comes number two.
And now... for number three!
Alexander... bring over the candlestick.
"It came to pass in those days,
that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus,
that all the world be taxed.
And his taxing was first made when Cyrenius was governor of Syria.
And all went to be taxed, every one into his own city.
And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth,
into Judaea,
to the city of David which is called Bethlehem;
because he was of the house and lineage of David.
To be taxed with Mary his espoused wife, being great with child."
You...!
- Do you give in? - No!
Oh, sorry about the mess...
Come upstairs, and you'll get a Christmas box.
Thank you, ma'am.
Now then, children, go to bed.
Hurry up, Alexander.
Straight into bed with you!
Say your prayers.
"This has been a happy day, now I come to you and pray.
Bless Papa, Mama and Grandmama, my brothers, sisters, cousins,
my uncles and aunts, Vega, Ester, Maj, Siri, Berta,
Alida, Lisen, Uncle Isak, and everyone else. Amen."
Good night...
- Good night. - Sweet dreams.
Putte kisses like a real man.
Alexander, look what I got for Christmas!
Look what Mrs Ekdahl gave me!
Aren't I madly beautiful?
I look like a real lady, don't I?
You can't sleep in my bed tonight, because I'll be having a caller.
And I can't fit any number of men in my bed, you know.
But you're my sweetheart. You do know that, don't you?
Well, it's time to turn in. We must get up early tomorrow.
Carl...
Carlchen, wake up. It's time to go home.
Good night, Mama. I'll just give Carl a hand.
- It's time to go home. - Here we go...
Good night, Mother.
Good night, Mama.
"There she lies, the beautiful girl, poor little Arabella.
Little does she know what awaits her.
She is all alone in the big house.
Her mother is dead, and her father is carousing with unsavoury companions.
Who comes there at the stroke of midnight?
Dread seizes me...
What is this terrifying white figure floating there on the moonbeams
and drawing near my bed?
'Tis the spirit of my dead mother."
Now settle down!
Go to sleep! Good night.
I thought the nursery smelled of paraffin oil...
- There's no paraffin lamp in there. - That's what it smelt like.
Here you go, Isak. I made us some nice strong coffee.
A vast improvement on Vega's awful dishwater. Here.
What can the time be? Ten past three?
That means we have two whole hours before I must change for church.
My, it's nice to have you here!
You're my best friend.
Whatever would I do without you?
Last year, I enjoyed Christmas...
This year all I wanted to do was cry.
I suppose I'm getting old.
- Do you think I've aged? - You've grown older, yes.
I suspected as much.
Yes, all I wanted to do was weep.
Though I love seeing my grandchildren, of course.
I thought Oscar looked tired. That wretched theatre wears him out.
And why does he have to play the Ghost? He needs to rest.
- Besides, he's a terrible actor. - Indeed...
I wonder if Emelie realizes he's run down and needs a rest.
I think I'll have a word with her.
Oscar's capable, you know. Capable and conscientious.
Just imagine, the theatre is actually turning a small profit!
Isn't that splendid?
A few years back, I had to contribute at least 50,000 a year.
I didn't mind, but it was awkward for Oscar to ask me for money.
Not like Carl...
He's asked me for another loan, but I refused.
If he comes to you, promise me you'll say no as well.
I can't make sense of it. Time and again I clear everything up for him.
But a year later, he's in dire straits again.
He claims that he doesn't go to moneylenders.
- Do you know anything about that? - I know nothing.
And that poor German woman he married...
How could Carl have fallen for her?
There must be an erotic attraction.
- What do you think? - Erotic? I suppose so...
You're not listening.
That's all right, the main thing is that you keep me company.
Carl and Gustav Adolf are oversexed, they take after their father.
He was oversexed.
At times it was too much of a good thing, but I never turned him away.
Gustav Adolf is hopeless. I've spoken to Alma and she ever so wisely says
that his philandering doesn't bother her, since he's such a good husband.
It's fortunate that Alma is so accommodating.
Perhaps I ought to warn that girl... Maj, or whatever her name is.
She's very pretty, and so good with the children.
Nice colouring, neat figure...
It's a pity she limps, poor thing.
Are you sad because you've grown old, lsak?
No, absolutely not.
Things just keep getting worse.
The people, the machines, the wars... Even the weather.
- I'm glad I'll soon be dead. - You're an incorrigible misanthrope.
- As ever. But I don't agree with you. - I thought as much.
That doesn't stop me from weeping, though.
Would you mind terribly if I weep for a while?
Upon my soul, I can't. The tears won't come.
I'd better have some more brandy.
What's so amusing?
Remember when we sat on that sofa over there, madly kissing?
You had unbuttoned my blouse...
Then suddenly that curtain was pulled aside and my husband stood there.
It was just like a farce by Feydeau.
I screamed, and you made for the door.
He rushed off to get his gun with me clutching his leg.
And then the two of you became friends for life.
Your husband was a magnanimous man.
See, now I can weep...
The joyful splendid days are over,
and all that's left is sordid and terrible.
That's the way of it...
No, this won't do at all, dear sir...
I shall wash and put on my face.
I'll do my hair and put on my stays and a silk dress.
A pining old woman will transform herself
into a self-possessed grandmother. We play our parts, you see.
Some play them carelessly, other play them with great care.
I belong to the latter category.
Good night, my lovely Helen.
You were such a sweet lover.
As sweet as wild strawberries.
You asked me to help you with your morning toilette, madam, and it's 4:50.
A coffee shop at a nice location.
Your own cakes, pastries, tarts...
...and confections.
What do you say, my sweet? Doesn't that appeal to you?
You'd be in charge of everything.
Only yesterday I said to Alma: "Look at Maj, she's a princess."
What luscious breasts you have.
Let me take a proper look. Oh, you drive me crazy!
Don't be afraid, I'm a wonderful lover. All women say that.
Once you've had your way with me, you'll forget all about the shop.
Find me something to write on. Come along...
Look, here's a pen...
I'll write this down...
"Maja Kling...
...is the proprietress of my coffee shop."
And I'll sign it: "Gustav Adolf Ekdahl...
The night before Christmas, 1907."
This is a contract, my dear.
Show it to a lawyer if I should forget my promises.
You must be careful, sir, not to put me in the family way.
Well, what do you say?
Isn't Uncle Gusten nice? Have you ever felt such a wooden leg?
Damnation, the rocket went off too soon!
Oh well, it can't be helped.
Lovely, wasn't it?
- You're quite the wolf, sir. - And you're a lamb.
Heavens above, I must lie down. I'm all in a sweat.
- I've had too much to eat and drink. - You're not ill, are you, sir?
I'm as happy as a kid in a sweet shop, or why not a coffee shop?
Who could feel bad around a tasty morsel like you?
- Sit astride me. - You are a one, sir!
This is glorious!
Wallowing in pleasure like this...
- Oh my, how your heart's pounding! - I have a lot of heart.
- You'll have to get me a new bed. - I'll give you a shop, a flat...
...lots of furniture and a huge bed.
- Pretty clothes, too? - The prettiest.
You'll be my mistress,
and I'll come calling every Saturday and Wednesday at three.
You're ever so silly...
Am I?
A real numbskull.
I'm not a numbskull.
Yes, you are. Imagining I want anything from you.
You don't?
I was only teasing you.
Teasing me?
- What do you mean? - Now don't get angry...
I just don't like being treated like an idiot.
- Stop laughing. - But you're so funny...
No...
I'm coming down with a cold.
My throat hurts when I swallow.
My teeth itch.
It's damn cold, why isn't there a fire?
We owe the wood merchant 150 kronor, das weisst Du doch.
For God's sake, you've been here for 23 years. Speak Swedish!
I do my best...
I asked Mama for 10,000 to straighten out my affairs.
She showed me a paper that said I owed her 37,000. It's incredible...
- Go see the Jew. - I have.
I pay an extortionate interest,
and if I don't keep up payments, he'll tell Mama.
- I have some jewellery. - You fool...
Professor Ekdahl can't be seen going to a pawnbroker.
Aren't you coming to bed, mein Schatz?
Come, Carlchen. Come sit next to me.
You smell bad. Have you given up washing or are you starting to rot?
No, I do not smell bad, mein Carlchen.
Your senses are playing tricks on you.
I'm bleeding...
- Shall I bandage it up for you? - No.
- Won't you try and get some sleep? - Yes.
I feel so sorry for you, mein Carlchen.
How does one become second-rate?
Can you tell me that?
How does the dust fall?
When has one lost?
First I'm a prince, the heir to the kingdom.
Suddenly...
...before I know it...
...I'm deposed.
Death taps me on the shoulder.
The room is cold...
...and we can't pay for firewood.
I'm stupid and unkind.
And I'm unkindest...
...to the one person who cares for me.
There's no way you can forgive me, I'm a shit and a rotter.
I can make you a hot toddy...
Don't be so damned servile!
Wipe your mouth! Your lips are always wet, it's disgusting.
I don't mean to be unkind.
No... I know that, mein Liebling.
What a life!
Insomnia, poverty and humiliation.
You reach out to find only a void.
Why am I such a bloody coward?
- Good night. - Good night.
- Good morning, Papa. - Good morning, Petra.
No kiss?
- Good morning, Gustav Adolf. - Good morning, Alma.
Petra? Go fry up some ham and eggs for your father.
And make two cheese sandwiches.
- What would you like to drink? - Beer.
The beer crate's... Wait, I think there's some stout in the icebox.
You'd rather have stout, wouldn't you?
Don't just stand there, we're meant to be there an hour from now.
- Are you all right? - Brandy.
- I've put out your clothes. - Thank you.
And there's hot water if you want a bath.
- Hurry up. - Yes, sir.
I must say you're a damned handsome woman.
And you're a swine.
- Listen... come to bed. - I've just done my hair.
Then we'll have a quick one standing up.
- Petra will be here with breakfast... - Lock the door.
Come on then, but make it quick.
No, I don't think I can.
There must be something wrong.
- You're not ill, are you, Gusten? - No, I'm fit as a fiddle.
Lie down on the bed.
- Shall I bring in the breakfast tray? - Yes, please.
Why haven't I killed you?
Now what do you say?
Well, my friends... it's time.
Sleeping within my orchard, my custom always of the afternoon.
Upon my secure hour, thy uncle stole
with juice of cursed hebenon in a vial.
And in the porches of my ears did pour
the leperous distilment
whose effect holds such an enmity with blood of man
That, swift as quicksilver, it courses through
the natural gates and alleys of the body;
and with a sudden vigour it doth posset
and curd like eager droppings into milk,
the thin and wholesome blood, so did it mine.
And a most instant tetter bark'd about,
most lazar-like,
with vive and loathsome crust all my smooth body.
O, horrible! O, horrible! Most horrible!
If thou hast nature in thee, bear it not.
Let not the Royal bed of Denmark be
a couch for luxury and damned incest.
I've forgotten what's next...
You get up and exit upstage centre.
- Where am I? - Here, at the theatre.
Let's go home and rest.
- What happened? - You're a little tired, that's all.
Shall I call for the ambulance?
What am I doing here?
You were acting.
Acting?
Why was I acting?
Come along, Oscar, let's go home.
Am I going to die?
Please help me out.
I'll get a cab.
He'll need his overcoat.
Alexander... Come along.
Come along.
Stop! Stop!
I'm telling you to stop! Hey!
Stop!
Take that cart.
No...
No.
We know nothing yet.
Yes, let us hope so. Thank you for calling.
- How is our dear Oscar? - We can only hope.
- How is he? - It's a matter of hours.
- Is he in pain? - He sleeps most of the time.
There's cocoa and sandwiches for you in the kitchen.
Just imagine, this letter will go all the way to a mission station in China.
Mr Albrektsson's poodle just had four puppies.
A friend of mine has lived there for 50 years now.
Mr Albrektsson wondered if you would like one.
- Mama won't let us have a pet. - We could keep the puppy here.
- That's good. - Otherwise it will have to be sold.
When I was in China with my friend, doing field work,
we had a dog and three cats.
- Want to play again? - You're red this time.
He makes lots of money out of his pedigree dogs.
- But he wants to give this pup away. - He's a wealthy man.
His wife is wealthy, my dear Ester. The money is hers.
Would you like to have a treacle sandwich?
Yes, please.
There, the letter's finished.
Fanny, you may lick the envelope.
- Would you like to borrow my flute? - No, thank you.
- Would you like to lick the stamp? - No, thank you.
Go ahead, dear.
Thank you, my dear.
Leave me alone...
Come in.
Mama asked me to fetch you.
Here, we'll put that sandwich down.
Come along, Alexander. Don't be afraid.
Come here, Alexander.
Come along.
I'll be in the next room.
Come here, Fanny.
Tell Alexander there's nothing to be afraid of.
I will.
I could play the Ghost now...
Really well.
Nothing...
Nothing separates me from you all.
Not now, and not later.
I know that.
I see that...
...quite clearly.
I think I'll be closer to you now...
...than when I was alive.
Now I'd like to look at Alexander.
Alexander...
Papa says there's nothing to be afraid of.
- Don't be such a baby, Alexander... - Do try to be strong.
Fanny, wake up...
Prick, piss, shit, fart,
piss, hell...
...prick, fart, shit, piss, fart,
cock, cunt, Satan, arse, pisspot...
Siri, tell the children they may leave the table.
Can you hear anything?
Wake up, there's something out there.
How do you do?
Please give our regards to your mother.
Hello...
Alexander, someone is here to talk to you.
You can have your cocoa later.
- What have I done? - I expect you know what.
How do you do, Alexander.
We have met before, when I officiated at your father's funeral.
Your mother turns to me on occasion with her worries. That's only natural,
since I am a close friend of your grandmother's, and a spiritual guide.
The Bishop has been very good to me during this difficult time.
We have also spoken of you, my little man.
I have mentioned how proud I am of my children.
You and your sister are doing well at school. Is that not so?
Don't be afraid, I'm your friend and wish you well.
You do understand that, don't you?
But diligence and good marks are not everything in this world.
Blow your nose.
What a dirty handkerchief. Didn't Maj give you a clean one today?
Yes... Damned shit.
As I said, diligence and good marks aren't everything.
- Listen to the Bishop. - Oh, he is listening... Aren't you?
You're anxious to know what l'm going to say.
You're a big boy now, so I'll talk to you man to man.
Could you tell me...
Could you explain to me...
...the difference between the truth and a lie?
Yes, it's a rather silly question. I was only joking with you.
Of course you know the difference between the truth and a lie.
Splendid... Splendid, my boy.
Then you also know why a person tells lies, don't you?
Why does a person tell lies?
Could you tell me why, Alexander?
Because that person doesn't want to tell the truth.
That was a very sly answer, my friend...
But I won't let you off the hook that easily.
So I will ask you this: Why would a person not want to tell the truth?
- I don't know. - We have plenty of time.
I am prepared to sit here and wait indefinitely for your answer.
You may not believe me, but it happens to be true.
- You lie to gain an advantage. - Well answered, my boy.
Well and concisely.
I have another question, and forgive me if I seem a trifle personal...
- Why have you lied at school? - What?
Your teacher has written to me
that you have been telling the most incredible lies.
"Sold to a circus"... Do you deny telling your classmates
that I sold you to a travelling circus?
That the circus people will come and get you at the end of term.
That you are to be trained as an acrobat and a circus rider
along with a gypsy girl the same age as you, named Tamara.
Now you must ask your mother's forgiveness
for all the pain and sorrow you have caused her.
Go to your mother and ask her to forgive you.
Do you hear me?
Please forgive me, Mama. I promise never to do it again.
Good, now we need never discuss this matter again.
Imagination is something splendid,
a mighty force, a gift from God.
It is held in trust for us by the great artists, writers and musicians.
Emelie dear, don't you think you'd better tell the children?
I'll go fetch Fanny.
Come, Alexander.
I have something important to say.
Edvard has asked me to marry him.
I have accepted his offer with gratitude and joy.
I have lived alone for quite some time now.
And in addition to that, my children need a firm hand, a father, as well.
Of course a great deal will be...
May God in His mercy take care of our little family.
Let us kneel down
and unite in a heartfelt prayer.
May God, our Father, in His mercy, take care of our little family.
And bless us and keep us from evil all the days of our lives.
Please dear God, give me the strength
to be a guardian and a worthy example to these fatherless ones.
Please give me the strength as well
to be a support to this lone young woman.
In the 15th century, when this was built, comfort was not a priority.
My predecessors have kept everything as it was, and I follow the tradition.
These old rooms possess a timeless beauty.
Let us be grateful for this atmosphere of purity and austerity.
Ah, here comes my mother.
I see you have arrived... Welcome, Mrs Ekdahl.
And this is my sister, Henrietta.
Welcome to the Bishop's Manor.
Come and say how do you do, children.
This is our capable cook, Mrs Tander. She has been with us for 30 years.
This is my future wife, Mrs Emelie Ekdahl.
- How do you do, madam. Welcome. - How do you do, Mrs Tander.
These are our capable helpers, Karna, Selma and little Justina.
Let's go meet my bedridden aunt.
Good afternoon, Aunt Elsa. We have a special visitor today...
- Don't be afraid, children. - My future wife.
Mrs Emelie Ekdahl, the well-know actress.
How do you do, Miss Bergius.
The children are asleep. lt's late, and we'd better go.
Not just yet, please.
I have a wish. A single, but important one.
I will express it now, and you can consider if you are willing to comply.
I would like you and your children to come here without possessions.
What do you mean?
I want you to leave your home,
your clothes, your jewellery, your furniture...
Your possessions, your friends, your habits and thoughts.
I want you to leave your former life behind.
Am I to come naked?
I am serious, my darling.
I want you to come to your new life as though newly born.
And the children? Their toys and books...?
Nothing.
- I must talk to them. - The decision is yours.
On my own behalf, yes, but I must ask them.
- Life demands certain sacrifices. - You are cross with me.
Kiss me.
- I'm not cross. - I'll win them over.
You must think carefully.
I have...
It's easy for me to grant your wish.
I have never really taken much seriously in life before.
At times I've feared there was something wrong with me.
Nothing ever really hurt.
I could never feel truly happy.
I know the crucial moment has come.
I know we will cause each other pain.
But I'm not afraid.
Because I know we will make each other happy as well.
And I weep with fear because life is short,
the days pass so quickly, and nothing lasts forever.
Kiss me, and hold me as only you can.
"I, Olof Henrik Edvard Vergerus..."
I, Olof Henrik Edvard Vergerus...
"Take thee, Elisabet Emelie Josefin Ekdahl..."
Take thee, Elisabet Emelie Josefin Ekdahl...
- "...as my lawfully wedded wife." - ...as my lawfully wedded wife.
"...to love and cherish for better or for worse."
...to love and cherish for better or for worse.
"And hereto I plight thee my troth."
And hereto I plight thee my troth.
"I, Elisabet Emelie Josefin Ekdahl..."
"Take thee, Olof Henrik Edvard Vergerus..."
Take thee, Olof Henrik Edvard Vergerus...
"...as my lawfully wedded husband..."
"...to love and cherish for better or for worse."
"And hereto I give thee my troth."
And hereto I give thee my troth.
In the name of God the Father, Son and Holy Ghost.
Amen.
For in as much as you have consented together in holy wedlock,
and have witnessed the same before God and this company...
- Well then... - I wonder if this is a good thing.
Emelie looked so happy.
- I'm thinking of the children. - They'll get used to it.
He's one hell of a lady-killer, the Bishop.
I'm sure that's simply gossip, Carl.
I just want to cry...
They ought to have had a honeymoon.
I offered them our house in Provence, but Emelie said no.
I'm not surprised, she deeply respects her new husband.
He's a handsome man...
- I bet he has false teeth. - Really, Petra!
- His mother is charming. - I've heard his sister is a bitch.
I have a feeling Emelie will be back.
Quite soon.
- Aren't the children hungry? - Everything's so very new to them.
Perhaps they disrespect the good fare they are offered.
Henrietta, please. Let us be happy on our first evening together.
I have no desire to spoil our evening. But in the future...
And it is just as well I mention it now.
No one is allowed to leave the table without eating up.
I am the one to tell my children what to do.
There is a basic rule in this household that no one must break,
not even you, Emelie dear.
All must show respect for what we are given.
I think you have misunderstood a most essential aspect.
I suggest we continue this discussion later.
Forgive me, I am forgetting myself.
I will most assuredly need your astute advice in household matters.
Edvard has admonished me a hundred times.
But it is not easy...
...to realize that one is superfluous.
That will do, Henrietta.
I suppose it's all right to mention that we are early risers,
every day of the week. We gather for prayers in Edvard's study at six.
I would also like to add that we make our beds and tidy our rooms.
In this house, punctuality, cleanliness and order are the rule.
Don't be alarmed, my daughter is not as strict as she sounds.
- At first, we will tread lightly. - I don't understand, Mother Blenda.
- If the intent is disciplinary... - Not at all, my dear.
I'm sure the children will gradually realize the joys of a job well done.
I mean it is all to be like a game.
I don't think my children care for games like that... and neither do I.
Time will show, my dear Emelie.
They're coming! Go to bed, at once.
Now we'll say our prayers.
This has been a happy day, now I come to you and pray.
- Bless Papa, Mama and Grandmama... - And Uncle Edvard.
And Uncle Edvard, my siblings, my cousins and aunts and uncles...
...Uncle Isak and everyone else. Amen.
Good night. - Good night, Alexander.
Justina, there are a few things I'd like to discuss about tomorrow...
What are you reading, Alexander?
Good night, my boy.
- Good night, my child. Bless you. - Good night, Uncle Edvard.
My fondest wish is that we will all get along.
Love cannot be commanded.
But we should treat each other with respect and consideration.
You go ahead, my dear. I'll be along shortly.
Whose doll house is this?
15 years ago, two little girls shared this room.
They, and their mother, were drowned.
- What if the house is haunted? - There are no such things as ghosts.
- Was this their room? - Yes, I think so. Good night.
- Our stepfather isn't very nice. - And his sister is crazy.
- And that fatty who has to be fed... - I don't want to live here.
You must give me time. There's so much that needs changing.
Some changes will take time. The main thing is not to lose heart.
- Why did you marry him? - Because I love him. That's why.
Let's get some sleep. Everything will seem better when we're not as tired.
Don't act like you're Hamlet, my boy. I am not Queen Gertrude,
and your stepfather is not the King of Denmark, nor is this Elsinore.
Even if it does look gloomy.
Damned shit!
I want to show you something.
There are bars on the windows... And you can't open them.
Well, Oscar, that's how it is...
We are old and yet still a child at the same time.
It's hard to fathom where all the years in between went.
The years considered to be so important.
May I take your hand?
I remember when you were a child,
your hands were small, firm and dry...
And your wrists were so slender.
I enjoyed being a mother.
Being an actress was nice, but I enjoyed motherhood more.
I loved being great with child,
it didn't bother me to not be on stage.
Though everything in life is a part we play, some are simply more enjoyable.
I played a mother. I played Juliet and Ophelia...
Then suddenly I played the widow, and the grandmother.
One part follows the other.
And you cannot back away.
Only what became of it all?
Can you tell me that, my boy?
You're a dear, to listen to your mother's soliloquies,
as Isak calls them.
You're a good boy, Oscar.
I grieved terribly when you passed.
That was a strange part to play.
My feelings came from my body...
And though I could control them, they shattered reality,
if you know what I mean.
Reality has been broken ever since.
Oddly enough, it feels better that way.
So I don't bother to mend it.
I just don't care that nothing makes sense.
- Oscar, my dear boy... - Yes, Mama.
- Are you sad? - Worried.
Are you worried about the children?
Yes...
It's supper time.
Here...
When you've had your supper, you are to go straight to bed.
The tray can be left until tomorrow.
Cook sent you some tarts. I'll get into trouble if Miss Vergerus finds out.
- Hasn't Mama come back? - No, your mother has not returned.
- She said she'd be back by tonight. - I don't know what to say.
Why do you sigh like that all the time?
I haven't been here very long, but Mrs Tander, who was cook here
when the first Mrs Vergerus was alive, she could tell you a thing or two.
- Would you like a jam tart? - Yes, please.
What does she say?
That it was the same in the first wife's day.
Only worse.
My, my... Poor children.
- Do you mean us? - No, I don't...
I mean the tiny mites who perished in the cold dark river.
Their mother tried to save them, but was sucked down by the eddies.
They found them later, by the bridge.
They were clinging so tightly to each other, they were like one body.
In order to lay them in separate coffins, they had to saw them apart.
Since then it has never really been quiet in this house.
- Ghosts don't exist. - I don't mean to frighten anyone...
But this house does funny things to you. Just look at my hand...
No skin left...
It's all raw!
I was taking His Grace his morning coffee,
and when I opened the door, my skin stuck to the door handle...
I heard laughter behind me.
I heard it plainly, so I turned around...
Only there was no one there.
And I feel sorry for anyone who has to...
But I'd better keep my mouth shut.
I'll lock the door now...
But don't worry, your mother is sure to be back by tomorrow,
and then His Grace will come in person to set you free.
- I've seen them. - Who?
- The first wife and her daughters. - Is that true?
- Are you telling the truth? - On my word of honour.
Where did you see them?
I'd been in the library with our mother's husband.
He had been lecturing me, I don't remember what about...
I was passing through the dining-room,
and there was a funny sort of light.
Then I saw one of the girls in the doorway.
She ran past on tiptoe and didn't make a sound.
Then came the other girl, the elder one with the dark hair,
and the big eyes.
She stopped and looked at me,
and motioned to me to turn around.
And there, in the bright sunlight...
...stood the woman herself,
all dressed in black.
She said, in a faint and almost inaudible voice,
not to be afraid, and that she had something to tell me.
- What did she say? - I don't want to frighten you.
But these were her very words:
"I want you to know our secret.
Your stepfather, my husband...
...locked me and the children into the bedroom.
We were confined there for five days and five nights...
...without food and water.
In our misery, we decided to escape.
We tied sheets together and tried to climb down from the window
to the narrow tongue of land surrounded by swirling water.
My daughters went first,
and they fell, plunging into the depths.
I tried to save them, but I was sucked into a black whirlpool...
Not until I was under water, was I able to grab hold of my children."
Why it's Maj! How nice. Do come in, my dear.
- I hope I'm not disturbing you. - Not at all, my dear.
Come, give me a kiss. Good...
Very pretty...
Did you make it yourself?
Nice fabric, nice pattern...
- What about the excursion? - I'm too pregnant to go boating.
- What's wrong? - I'm worried.
Let's sit here.
- You're worried about the children? - Alexander promised to write.
- I've written seven letters. - And not had an answer?
Only a postcard. Three weeks ago.
"Dear Maj, we're fine. Uncle Edvard took us on an outing to see...
- ...the Botanical Gardens. - We learned about rare flowers.
Thank you for writing, I'll write as soon as I find the time.
Most sincerely, Alexander. Fanny sends her love."
Emelie's capable of looking out for her children and herself.
There's no reason to worry.
- In a way, they're my children too. - Are you leaving already?
- I just wanted a word... - Stay a bit longer.
I'm to make dinner, and I haven't even put the roast in the oven yet.
My dear child, are things so difficult?
- Is it the coffee shop? - That too.
I gather Gustav Adolf has been pestering you.
I don't want to hurt his feelings.
But the thing that worries me the most is the children.
I'm sorry, where are my manners?
Please forgive me.
Mrs Tander wonders if you will be having supper alone, Your Grace.
Tell her a glass of milk and a simple sandwich will suffice.
Thank you, sir. I'll tell her.
- Was there something else? - I'm not sure...
I don't know how to say this, it's so unpleasant.
It might seem if I was telling tales.
Please sir, I can't stand here at the door.
Come in and close the door.
Please sir, you said I was to keep an eye on the children
and listen to their talk and report anything particular I might hear...
Alexander made up a terrible story.
It was about...
It's so terrible I don't know how to get it out...
He says, sir, that you locked your first wife up.
That she and the girls were drowned when they tried to escape.
- Well? - That's all, sir.
You may go.
Who's there?
It's only me.
Get up at once! Your stepfather wants to talk to you.
Get dressed, your stepfather wants to talk to you.
Hurry.
Alexander, my boy. In the presence of Justina and your sister,
you accused me of murdering my wife and children.
Please repeat what you told me.
Alexander said he had seen the late Mrs Vergerus and her children.
She spoke to him.
She said that her husband had locked them into the master bedroom,
without food and water. On the fifth day,
they tried to escape, only to drown...
- Do you recognize the story? - No.
- Has Justina given false testimony? - Maybe it was a dream she had.
Are you prepared to confirm your statement on oath?
Fanny, did you hear Alexander tell this story?
So you maintain that Justina is either lying or dreaming?
Yes.
Step up to the table, Alexander.
- Would you take an oath? - Absolutely.
It is a mortal sin to swear falsely.
It's called perjury, and is severely punished.
Really?
Lay your hand on the Bible and repeat after me:
"I, Alexander Ekdahl"...
"do solemnly swear on the Holy Bible"...
"that everything I have said, am saying and will say"...
"is the whole truth and nothing but the truth."
Alexander, my boy...
I expect you remember that we had an important talk a year ago.
- It concerned certain moral questions. - You couldn't really call it a talk.
- What do you mean? - You did all the talking, sir.
I expect you were silent out of shame.
I've grown wiser since then.
- You mean you lie better. - That's one way of putting it.
Alexander, my boy.
Whatever do you imagine?
Do you really think you can besmirch another's honour with impunity?
I think you hate me, sir.
- That's what I think. - Really...
Let me tell you something.
Something that may surprise you.
I don't hate you...
I love you.
But the love I feel for you,
your mother and your sister, isn't blind or weak...
It's strong and astringent.
- Are you listening to me? - No.
You're hardening your heart.
Moreover, you misjudge the situation.
I'm much stronger than you.
- I don't doubt that. - I mean in a spiritual sense.
It's because I have truth and justice on my side.
Alexander...
You see, I know you will confess in a little while.
Your confession and your punishment will be a relief to you.
You're clever...
You realize that the game is up,
but you are proud and stubborn... and you are ashamed, as well.
I've forgotten what is it I am meant to admit.
- Really? - What am I supposed to admit?
- I have means at my disposal. - I didn't know that, but now I do.
Parents were not so soft-hearted when I was a child.
They had the cane. I have this. It's an ordinary carpet beater,
but it can dance quite well.
If that didn't help, we had another means, castor oil.
There is the bottle. A few mouthfuls makes you docile.
And if that wasn't enough, there was a dark and chilly closet,
where you would sit for hours, until mice came sniffing at your face.
- Why must I be punished? - That is obvious, my boy.
Your personality is flawed, you cannot distinguish lies from the truth.
You are a child, and tell child-sized, though dreadful, lies.
But soon you will be a grown man.
And life punishes liars ruthlessly.
Your punishment will teach you to love the truth.
I admit I made that up, about you locking your wife and children in, sir.
- Do you admit to committing perjury? - I guess so.
Now you have won a great victory.
A victory over yourself.
So, what's it to be: The cane, castor oil or the closet?
- How many strokes of the cane? - Ten. No more, no less.
Then I choose the cane.
Get two cushions and put them on the table.
Take your pants down.
Bend over.
Stand up.
- You have something to say to me. - No.
- You must ask my forgiveness. - I won't.
Then I must cane you until you do. Could you not spare us both?
I will never apologize.
- You won't apologize... - No.
Bend over, Alexander.
No more, please!
- Will you apologize? - Yes.
Button your trousers and blow your nose. - Lend him a handkerchief.
- Well then? - I beg you to forgive me, sir.
Speak up. I want everyone to hear how sorry you are.
- I beg you to forgive me, sir. - For the lies and the perjury.
You do understand that I have punished you out of love?
Kiss my hand.
- May I go to bed now? - Yes, you may.
But to provide you with the opportunity to reflect on the events of the day,
you will spend the night in the attic. Justina will bring up some bedding.
And at six o'clock tomorrow, Henrietta will unlock the door.
- Is that understood? - Yes, Your Grace!
I'd better be going, I have a carriage standing by.
I'm afraid something might have happened while I was away.
I'm always worried that Alexander will provoke his wrath.
He can't see that his stepfather is dangerous, just waiting to crush him.
You must leave him.
- I'm pregnant, Helena. - Nevertheless...
Forgive me for interrupting...
I have asked him for a divorce.
But he refuses.
I tell him I'll leave anyway.
Then he gets out the statue book and explains what will happen.
In a court of law, I will lose, on grounds of "desertion".
He would be granted custody of my children.
I have written in secret to a friend who is a lawyer.
He has confirmed what Edvard says.
I'm trapped, I can no longer breathe...
I am dying, Helena.
And I hate that man so violently that I could...
Don't tell anyone l've been here.
Not a soul.
- Give me the key! - Edvard says no!
Edvard has forbidden it!
You're hurting me.
Emelie, you mustn't do this!
Take your bloody paint box!
Look... Listen to me.
I'm telling you, there's none left.
- Alma! We're going to Mama's. - What are you shouting about?
I never shout.
Arrack punch will do just as well!
- The old girl's not here... - She's probably in the dining room.
- We wanted to see how you're doing. - I'm doing fine.
- I hope you weren't too lonely. - I adore having some time alone.
- Vega was bitten by a wasp. - Wasps sting, my dear.
They have stingers, just like your old man.
Petra fell in and got soaked!
- Where shall I serve supper? - No supper for me, thank you.
- How is the wasp sting? - Nothing to talk about.
You must have sifted through thousands of photographs by now.
Here's one of you and your brothers. You can't have been more than five.
- You can tell which brother... - Who is this lovely lady?
- Have you had rain? - Not at all.
We had blue skies, but we could see clouds gathering over the mainland.
- It's been raining all day here. - I remember this beauty.
- She was a friend of my father's. - No, she was an old friend of mine.
She married a count, had 12 children, and grew immensely fat.
I've always admired the adroit way you handled Papa's amours.
We have to dash. Mr Öhman and his charming wife are coming over.
- Can I help you with any errands? - No thank you, Gusten.
But I would like to have a word with you about Maj.
Christ, what now? Hell and damnation! What more...
Calm down, Gusten.
- He's touchy about Maj. - I would like to say...
Maj is not your private plaything.
Alma so graciously lets her be included,
and she's expecting my grandchild.
In your dictatorial way, you have mapped out her future.
- I'm bloody well sure you... - Gusten, watch your language!
I like the lass, I wish her well. I want to ensure her future.
She shouldn't be dependant on the goodwill of my family.
She doesn't need any protection, least of all from me! Stop tittle-tattling.
I'm hardly dictatorial, Maj has decided everything herself.
I like her. I'm kind to her. Alma is kind to her.
I'm hurt, you know. Bloody hurt!
There's not the slightest reason to side with Maj against me.
I'm fond of her. So is Alma. She's loved like Jenny, Petra and Putte.
Well, not exactly in the same way, but almost.
She's good to me.
She doesn't think I'm old and disgusting. No one does!
Gustav Adolf Ekdahl has a soft spot for the ladies, so what? Don't giggle!
Maj will take her own path, and I will give her the means to do so.
The matter is settled. We have an opera singer and his wife to attend to.
Goodbye, Mama. Give your boy a kiss.
I don't want you and Alma meddling in Maj's business.
I'll see to that!
Or rather, she will.
- Goodbye. - I'll be back later.
- Like hell you will! - Calm down or you'll have a stroke.
I am calm, you're the one who's been carrying on.
You and Mama are not to meddle.
- Good afternoon, Mr Jacobi. - Good afternoon, Miss Vergerus.
- What do you want? - Is His Grace in?
- He's busy writing a sermon. - May I speak to his wife?
- She is indisposed. - And must not be disturbed?
- My mother is out and I'm busy. - His Grace might be annoyed...
- What is this about? - Back in November...
...His Grace approached me with a business proposition.
Really? I have no recollection...
His Grace is sure to spare his family from such trivial worries.
Why would he turn to you?
- Oh my, I do not wish to be vulgar. - I shall be candid, Mr Jacobi.
I think you are unpleasant. I have no inclination to talk to you. Good day.
- A pecuniary embarrassment. - I beg your pardon.
His Grace found himself in a pecuniary embarrassment.
- May I sit down? - Not there, there.
In some strange way, I appreciate your straight-forwardness.
I do not appreciate your fawning.
What business have you with my brother?
- None at all, as far as I know. - Tell me what's on your mind and go.
First, I must speak to His Grace. It's a matter of money...
A great deal of money.
- Does my brother owe you money? - On the contrary.
In November, His Grace wished to borrow some money.
On principal, I do not lend money to the clergy,
but the Bishop suggested I buy that chest over there, for a reasonable sum.
- I declined. - You declined?
Yes, but now I regret doing so.
I would dearly like to buy that chest. For almost any price at all.
Almost...
I shall get my brother.
- I told you not to disturb me. - Mr Jacobi is here, about the chest.
The man clings like a leech...
Forgive me, an elderly man's unfortunate weakness...
- You wish to buy the chest? - Yes, indeed.
- What will you give me for it? - Here is the sum.
- You had quite a change of heart... - I may have a prospective buyer.
- I am being cheated, of course. - I am not forcing you to sell it.
- Did you bring the money? - The money? Most assuredly.
Here are the big notes...
Yes, indeed... Here they are.
- Give me the money. - Of course.
If I may have Your Grace's signature on the contract?
- You will forgive me if I withdraw? - I will miss you, Miss Vergerus.
I presume that you will not take anything that is not your due?
Suspicions tend to recoil on those who harbour them.
Would you like to ensure that I am not taking anything that is not my due?
I simply wanted to give you back the signed contract. Do sit down...
- What do you say about that picture? - It is beautiful and valuable.
- Would it interest you? - My resources are a bit strained...
- How is your wife? - How kind of you to enquire.
My wife is indisposed, the sudden heat does not agree with her.
- Would it be possible to speak... - I'm sorry.
Mrs Helena Ekdahl has written her a letter.
I will see that she gets it.
Jewish swine! You filthy swine! You thought you could trick me!
You'll be sorry for this, you abominable hook-nosed...
- Please calm down, Edvard! - He's trying to steal my children!
He can't, I have the key to the nursery.
Don't you dare touch them!
First of all, let's have something to eat. - Aron, come here.
This is my nephew, Aron.
Now for our meal.
- I would like to get some sleep. - Aron...
Our guests are tired, have you readied the room and made up the beds?
I have carried out all your orders, Uncle.
Alexander...
This is Aron's puppet theatre.
If you ask him nicely, I'm sure he will give a performance some evening.
My other nephew, Ismael, lives in there. He is ill.
This door must always be kept shut. Please do not forget that.
Sometimes he sings. At night, too.
It's nothing to worry about, you'll get used to it.
This will be your home for the time being.
Off to bed with you. - Good night, Fanny.
Good night, Alexander.
Lock the door at night, and don't open it to anyone.
- Don't forget to say your prayers. - Don't go...
Would you like me to stay? Then I'll sit here.
I'll go check up on lsmael.
My name is Aron. My brother's name is Ismael.
Our parents died when we were small.
I need to pee...
There's no potty...
It won't be easy to find the privy in the dark.
I hope there aren't any ghosts.
Damnation... l've lost my way.
Now l've really lost my way...
It's not my fault that everything's gone wrong.
I can't leave you. I can't.
It would be better if you cleared off to heaven, you can't help us anyway.
I spent my life with you, and with Emelie.
Death doesn't make a difference.
What is it, Alexander?
Why can't you tell God to kill the bishop?
Or maybe God doesn't give a damn about you, or any of us.
Have you ever seen God over there on the other side?
No one around here has a damn thought in their heads.
Idiots, the whole lot...
You must be gentle with people.
Aren't you coming to bed? The clock has struck four.
- I can't sleep. - Nor can I.
I've been with Elsa, she is very ill.
- We ought to send for the doctor. - He's coming tomorrow morning.
- What's that? - Hot broth, it's soothing.
May I?
But of course.
Can't you forgive me?
I'm staying with you, am I not?
- This sudden yielding confuses me. - Drink it while it's hot.
You demand that the children return?
- Then the position is hopeless. - I care only for what is right.
Isn't that Elsa calling?
Stay, I'll go in and see to her.
- Can I help you, Aunt? - It's so dark.
- What's the time? - It's almost half past four.
- A long night. - You should try to get some sleep.
My legs are hurting.
They are swollen and aching.
You once said...
...that you were always changing masks.
So that finally you didn't know who you were.
I have only one mask.
And it is branded into my flesh.
If I try to tear it off...
I always thought people liked me.
I saw myself as wise, broad-minded and fair.
I had no idea...
...that anyone was capable of hating me.
I don't hate you.
No, but your son hates me.
I'm afraid of him.
- Who is on the other side of the door? - It's God...
- Can't you come out? - The living may not see God's face.
- What do you want? - I want to prove that I exist.
- This is the end of me, isn't it? - Would you like me to show myself?
Then I will show myself.
Here I come, Alexander! Right now!
- Admit it, you were scared! - Not bloody likely!
"This is the end of me, isn't it?"
- Ow, that hurts! - Don't cry, Alexander.
I didn't mean to frighten you, at least not that much.
I've been working on this puppet all night.
This rich circus owner in England is crazy about our puppets.
And then I heard you padding around.
Do you hear that? My brother is awake.
He's singing.
Poor Ismael, he can't bear being around people.
- Sometimes he gets violent. - You said you'd been up all night.
- But I saw you sleeping. - So much in life is inexplicable.
You notice that particularly when you dabble in magic.
- Have you seen our mummy? - No...
Come on.
Look carefully, Alexander...
Can you see it breathing?
It's been dead for over 4,000 years, but it's still breathing.
I'll make the room dark.
- What do you see? - It's glowing...
Only no one knows why it's luminous.
No one can explain it.
People resent what they cannot understand.
It's better to say it's mirrors or projections...
Then people will laugh instead, which is healthier all around,
particularly from a financial point of view. Now watch carefully...
Uncle Isak says we are surrounded by layers of reality.
He says there are swarms of ghosts, spirits, phantoms, souls...
...angels and devils.
He says that the smallest pebble has a life of its own.
- Would you like some more coffee? - Yes, please.
Everything is alive. And everything is God, or God's intention.
Not only the good things, but the cruellest and worst.
What do you think?
If there is a God, he's a shit. I'd like to kick him in the arse.
I find your theory interesting, and it appears to be justified.
Shall we take Ismael his breakfast?
Ismael?
I've brought your breakfast.
Emelie...
As I couldn't sleep, your sister gave me bromides.
I had put three powers in the broth. I never meant for you to drink it.
When you went to check on Elsa, I added three more.
You will sleep soundly.
By the time you wake, I will be gone.
I'm going back to my children.
To my home... and my family.
Emelie!
Emelie...
- I'll change and you'll come back! - I will never come back.
I will poison your existence, ruin your children's future...
You no longer know what you're saying.
I'm wide awake! I'm so terribly wide awake...
Please, at least help me to bed.
I can't see anymore, and I feel dizzy.
Emelie, are you there?
I can't see...
Emelie!
Ismael, I've brought your breakfast.
Good morning, Ismael.
This is Alexander Ekdahl, a friend.
Leave us alone, Aron.
You needn't worry, I won't eat him.
Even if he does look appetizing.
- Come back in half an hour. - But Uncle Isak...
Uncle Isak is an old goat. He need never know about Alexander's visit.
No, thank you.
My name is Ismael, you know that already.
"And he will be a wild man;
his hand will be against every man,
and every man's hand against him."
I'm considered dangerous, that's why they lock me away.
In what way are you dangerous?
Write your name on this piece of paper.
Here's a pencil. It's rather blunt, but it will do.
Now then, Alexander Ekdahl...
Read what you just wrote.
It says: "Ismael Retzinsky".
Perhaps we are the same person. Maybe there are no boundaries.
Maybe we all flow into each other, boundlessly and magnificently.
You bear terrible thoughts...
It's almost painful to be near you.
At the same time, it is enticing.
- Do you know why? - I'm not sure if I want to know...
You can make an image of someone you dislike.
And stick pins into it.
It's a clumsy method compared to the swift path of evil thoughts.
You're a strange little person.
You do not want to express what's always on your mind...
You are picturing a man's death.
Wait...
I know who it is.
A tall man with fair greying hair, correct me if I am wrong.
He has clear blue eyes and a boyish face, correct me if I'm wrong.
He is asleep, and in his dream he kneels down at the altar.
Above the altar hangs the crucified prophet.
In his dream he gets up and cries out:
"My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?"
But there is no response. Not even laughter.
Don't say things like that.
It's not me...
...it's you.
Do not hold back...
He is sound asleep, plagued by nightmares.
Give me your hands.
It's not necessary, but it's safer this way.
The doors are to be thrown open, screams will ring out.
- I don't want to... - It's too late.
There is only one path, and I will accompany you.
I will obliterate myself and merge into you.
Don't be afraid, I am your guardian angel.
It's five o'clock. Daybreak.
The doors are thrown open... Wait!
First... a terrible scream rings out.
A shapeless burning figure...
...moves across the floor, shrieking.
I don't want to... Let me go!
Emelie...
The police are here. They insist on speaking to you.
Your husband, His Grace the Bishop,
lost his life this morning in horrifying circumstances.
Do you permit me, madam?
We believe we have determined the course of events.
Miss Elsa Bergius was ill in bed.
A lamp was on her bedside table. The lamp appears to have fallen,
igniting the bedding and Miss Bergius' nightdress and hair.
Blazing like a torch, the woman ran through the house.
And entered the bedchamber of His Grace the Bishop.
According to the bishop's sister, Miss Henrietta Vergerus,
His Grace was sleeping heavily, due to the effects of a soporific
that you, Mrs Vergerus, had given him.
Miss Bergius flung herself on the sleeping man, thus igniting him.
His Grace woke up, and succeeded in freeing himself from the dying woman.
But he was unable to extinguish the flames that now were engulfing him.
His mother found her son with severe burns below the waist...
...and a charred face.
He showed faint signs of life, and cried out in torment.
Although I cannot overlook the fact
that the sleeping draught may have aggravated the events,
I cannot justify taking action against you.
This sorry event is a dreadful combination
of particularly unfortunate circumstances.
My dear, dear friends...
I am moved more than I can say.
My wisdom is simple.
Some people may despise it, but I don't give a damn.
Forgive me, Mama. I can see that you think I talk too much.
But I promise to be brief. Well now...
We Ekdahls were not born to see through this world we live in.
We are not equipped to undertake such expeditions.
We do best to avoid the larger aspects.
We should stick to the smaller ones.
We should live in a small world.
We should be content with that.
Cultivate it, and make the best of it.
Suddenly death strikes.
Suddenly the abyss opens.
Suddenly the storm howls and disaster is upon us.
All this we know.
But we do not care to dwell on it.
We Ekdahls love our subterfuges.
Rob people of their subterfuges and they go mad.
But we have to be able to understand people...
...or we'll never dare to love or despise them.
Our world, our reality, needs to make sense to us,
so that we can complain of its monotony with a clear conscience.
Don't be sad, dear splendid artists...
...actors and actresses, we need you all the same.
You are there to provide us with supernatural shudders...
...or, even better, our mundane amusements.
The world is a den of thieves...
...and night is falling.
Evil breaks free of its chains and runs wild like a mad dog.
The taint affects us all, us Ekdahls and everyone else.
No one escapes...
...not even Helena Viktoria, or little Aurora.
So it shall be.
Therefore, let us be happy while we are happy.
Let us be kind, affectionate and good.
It is necessary, and not in the least shameful...
...to take pleasure in the joys of the little world.
Good food.
Sweet smiles.
Fruit trees in bloom.
Waltzes...
And now, my dearest friends,
I'm done talking and you can take it for what you like:
The effusions of an uncouth restaurant owner,
or the pitiful babbling of an old man, it doesn't matter to me.
I am holding a tiny empress in my arms.
It is tangible, yet immeasurable.
One day she will prove me wrong.
One day she will rule not only over the little world, but over everything.
Everything...
There, my sweet.
Be a good girl, so Mama can go to bed. I think you've had all you want.
- I'll take her. - Thank you, Rosa.
- How do you like it here? - Everyone's so nice.
Especially Mr Ekdahl. He seems ever such a good man.
He's a nice man, and he's particularly nice to young girls.
- So you watch out, Rosa. - Oh, my...
- Good night, madam. - Good night, Rosa.
I'm not tired, let's have some champagne.
- We're going to have champagne... - I'll get you a sandwich. Come.
I'm sure Emelie would like a glass of champagne.
We'll toast our daughters.
- Go to bed now, Gusten. - I'm so bloody happy!
That's good, but by tomorrow you will have a headache.
We're together again!
I'm going to speak to the workmen tomorrow.
- And I'll be staying 'til Thursday. - I'll be there Tuesday.
I have the world's best wife.
A better wife than you deserve.
And the prettiest mistress to be found anywhere. A real sweetie.
- Are you leaving early? - No, not until two.
When I see you, I want to cry tears of joy.
To think you're back with us again!
Good night, Gusten.
Be a good boy and remember that Alma needs her sleep.
I know what Alma needs...
Aunt Emelie...
- What do you want at this hour? - We want to move to Stockholm.
A friend is opening a milliner's shop, and has asked us to join her.
- And we'd really like to. - Awfully much, in fact.
- But we have a problem. - Papa insists on that coffee shop.
He's so kind...
- He's always telling Maj what to do. - It's hopeless...
- She wants to decide what's best. - I don't know what to do.
We've spoken to Mama, and she said we couldn't do this to Papa.
Then she calmed down and said that life must go on.
That you mustn't impose your will on your children.
Though she was sorry for Papa's sake.
- It's awful... - You must think of yourself first.
Papa's an old man, after all. - Don't you agree?
Go to bed, I'll have a word with Grandmama.
- Helena... - Emelie, how nice.
- I would like to confer with you. - May I get you some brandy?
Is it anything serious? Oh, I know, the girls wish to move to Stockholm.
Well, what do you think?
You will never be rid of me.
- One last thing... - You're absolutely right.
On his death bed, Oscar asked you to take charge of the theatre.
- I know, I was there. - Gustav Adolf will be terribly hurt.
I can't understand why everyone caters to him.
Gusten has a good head for business, but knows nothing about the theatre.
It's your theatre, my dear.
It's time our second-rate Napoleon realizes that he's facing his Waterloo.
I'd like you to read a new play by August Strindberg.
That abominable misogynist! No, thank you...
It's called "A Dream Play".
- There are parts for both of us. - Impossible!
- It's been ages... - All the more reason.
- I won't disturb you any longer. - You never disturb me, dear.
What's so amusing?
- Now we're in charge, aren't we? - Is that what you think?
- Good night, dearest one. - Good night, dear girl.
"Anything can happen. Anything is possible and likely.
Time and space do not exist.
On a flimsy ground of reality imagination spins out
and weaves new patterns."