Edmond has become gripped by the idea
that it was no accident, but suicide.
Caused by despair. Or as a punishment.
His wife and his daughter
lost their lives in a car crash.
Edmond had argued with Monika
about separation. They had traded insults, accusations, threats etc..
Edmond always closes his eyes
when he thinks about it.
No other vehicle was involved,
the motorway was almost empty.
And yet the car sped through a barrier
and plunged into the gorge.
His wife and Kiki, his daughter,
were almost unrecognisable.
Edmond continues to run his business.
But as evening settles in, so does the desperation.
He rarely goes home anymore...
What's there for him?
No one is waiting for him,
no child will jump into his arms and hug him.
In old age, when one has lived his life,
he is entitled to
befriend death in silence.
He doesn't need people anymore, he's seen enough of them.
He has only need of silence.
It's not appropriate to visit such a person.
To address him, to torment him with prattle.
Rather, it is fitting to pass the door of his dwelling
as if it were the house of no one.
Those are the words of an old Chinese poet.
Meng Xie
or Meng Xiao.
You know, we're both at an age in which it is fitting
to occupy ourselves with death, or departure, however you might put it.
Or... is it too soon for you?
If you think of the life that you have before you...
What life'?
Yes, I understand.
How long have the two of them been dead?
How long?
I can't remember.
Your child... she was always so joyful. Howl loved her.
I once wanted to stroke her head...
and she bit me in the hand.
You know, there's a house...
a 'maison'.
A kind of
meditational...
You should go there sometime.
But Why?
Just try it. Trust me, go there.
It would do you good.
No wish, no words could ever bring you back.
Farewell, then!
Torn from you, alone, forsaken, and filled with pain...
no death could be more bitter.
She bit him in the hand.
Yes, that was your Kiki!
And please don't play any wicked pranks
like sticking your finger in the girl's mouth. It is forbidden.
Come along!
And please don't try to wake the girl, as her eyes shall not open.
Whatever you do, the girl will sleep through it.
And when she awakes she will know nothing of what has happened,
not even who was sleeping beside her.
So you needn't have any worries about that.
What time is it? ...Quarter past eleven.
Then it's time. The older gentlemen who come here
tend to go to bed early. And they're the first to get up.
So, if you would care to...
She is a very pretty girl, and we consider it important
to receive only guests whom we can trust.
What is it?
There are two sleeping pills on the table, in case you can't sleep.
Do you serve drinks? A glass of wine, perhaps?
No, we do not serve any alcoholic drinks.
Not even a nightcap? ...I'm terribly sorry.
So the girl is lying in that room?
She's sound asleep and is waiting for you.
Would you prefer to disrobe here, or in there? Perhaps I could assist?
No, thanks. I'll undress myself.
Here...
Take this. You'll find you will need it.
I wish you a pleasant sleep.
Good night.
Toads...
Black dogs and drowned corpses...
That's what the night holds in store for me.
How does it go, that poem by...
He was a young poet, a Romantic.
He died at a young age.
The little one...
The woman's skin is probably disfigured by the narcotics...
leaden and drab.
Dark-ringed eyes, her face emaciated and hideously sunken.
Or she is fat and bloated?
Perhaps she snores...
and has repugnant blue-flecked gums.
You're not really asleep.
You're awake, aren't you?
Well?
My old friend Kogi told me about this place.
He said...
It seems to me that I gave up women as women years ago.
But there are people there who prepare a young woman for you
in such a way that she sleeps and doesn't wake up.
I would never have believed what my friend Kogi told me.
I never thought that would ever do this.
And now I'm here.
I scarcely dare to breathe.
Kogi said...
I only feel really alive when lying beside a somnolent...
beside a sleeping young woman.
Maybe there are old men,
men like Kogi,
who caress such a young woman,
touch her all over,
without conscience.
It seems to me
that I gave up women as women years ago.
But then, I am not as old
as Kogi.
Not nearly so old.
You smell of milk.
It is the milky scent of a child that is still weaning.
That's impossible.
If you had a child, your breast would be swollen,
And milk would seep from your nipples.
I'd be able to taste it.
No, you are too young.
You don't have a child yet.
But it is your scent...
This scent, it...
What does this scent remind me of'?
Of my mother.
Yes, perhaps.
But can one still remember that...
after more than 60 years?
Can you not be awoken at all?
To sleep...
doesn't mean to sleep for ever.
Neither for her, nor for me.
Turn over, towards me.
Are you dreaming?
Say something!
Two weeks later
I paid you a visit two weeks ago.
May I come again this evening? Now?
If you leave now, at what time could you be here?
At around... nine o'clock.
No, that's too early. I'm sorry.
The girl hasn't arrived yet, and she can't fall asleep so quickly.
I could have her asleep by eleven.
I shall expect you at that time.
Very well, I shall come then.
See you tomorrow.
The meeting is at 11.
Mr Gold is waiting downstairs.
Thank you, Gold.
I find it's turned rather cold. Keep yourself warmly covered.
The girl tonight is more experienced than the one last time.
What? Yes, but...
She is just as pretty, but don't do anything stupid.
What?
A different girl?
Yes, tonight's girl... ls not acceptable to you?
Well...
I'm not so... ...excessive?
But you're not doing anything one might call excessive...
Are you?
Or are you perhaps one of those lechers?
Was I perhaps mistaken about you?
Well, whatever you consider excessive, the girl sleeps and remembers nothing.
But since you liked the last girl so much,
I shall send her to sleep the next time you come.
But I'm sure you'll say that tonight's girl was even better.
You say she's more experienced?
What does that mean? She just sleeps!
Ah, what do you know?
Here, undress yourself now.
And sleep well.
More experienced...
Experienced...
Does that mean better?
I want to look into your eyes.
Blue.
You remind me of someone.
But of whom'?
You can't deceive me.
You're still virginal.
What are you doing here?
Why?
Oh well...
In the end, she's just a prostitute.
A little whore.
But... so young.
Mama!
I only did it...
What are you doing?
I don't want to!
What am I doing to you, then?
Tell me, child.
I only ran away because...
Is it over, the dream about your mother?
Say something!
No!
When an old man caresses a girl like this,
it is lamentation, nothing more.
Pah, lamentation!
Arousal!
We make love...
She brushes the tousled hair from my brow...
with her hands so wonderful!
Good morning!
Are you awake already?
Yes, I'm up.
I'm just dressing.
You must get up now, sir!
So, how was it?
She's a lovely girl, don't you agree?
Yes, a lovely girl. That's true.
And when will she wake up? ...Yes... when?
Can I wait until she wakes? ...Out of the question!
We don't even allow our most senior guest do that.
I like her so much that I...
It's better not to develop any futile emotions, don't you think?
You spent the night with her; all else need not interest you.
She has no idea that you slept beside her. You shan't be at risk.
Yes... I understand.
But what if I were to meet the girl on the street...
What?
You'd want to talk to hen'?
Please do not do that. I feel it would be a crime.
It is absolutely against the law. The law of this establishment.
A crime?
Against the laws of this establishment? ...Yes, it would be.
I ask you not to entertain such ideas. Simply take her for what she is:
a sleeping girl. And let that be enough.
Madame, please tell me... ...There's no more to say. Please go.
You...
You make the laws?
Would you please leave?
He is not a man who is living at peace with himself.
No, he's a beaten, frightened man.
Is he perhaps afraid of approaching death? Or is it the desperation
of not having reciprocated the passionate devotion of a loved one?
What is driving him?
How's your family and the children, Mr Gold? Everything fine?
Everything's fine, boss. The children are never a problem.
Maybe I'm the problem. My wife says, "Why do you drive for him?"
Yes, you! "There are better, more important things to do.
Kill him, take his money!" "Sure," I say to her,
"I'll kill him. And what then?"
Why should I kill'?
Mr Gold,
do you need money?
Ah, boss... Women!
Fine.
There was once a man
who followed one of these girls, or he believed it was one of them.
He went after her, and she became afraid. By the river, he was so close
that he grabbed for her, thinking she wanted to jump in.
She dragged him into the water with her.
The next day, they were found drowned,
entangled together like lovers in a passionate clinch.
When I started here, his wife had been dead for some time.
It's as if he lives in a garden full of snow, ringed by high walls.
No bird ventures to fly in.
Four clays later
Thank you, Gold. Goodbye. ...Shall I wait'?
No, you can go. See you tomorrow.
Here I am.
May I help you?
I want... Aren't you going to let me in?
I think you have the wrong house. Good night, sir.
Madame!
Be she a housewife, a schoolgirl, or a marquise...
he can get his leg over with this one and that. It's cheap, too!
Look how the trash creeps over the city. See the blind ones,
this stinking city,
these dissolute children. Who could live like this?
But the Lord's hand will come, it will point the way to the light.
It will point the way to the light.
You're here already, sin'?
Be so kind and make me a cup of tea.
But of course. You're always welcome.
No, today's not possible.
No, tomorrow neither.
She wouldn't receive me...
She wouldn't let me in. It was as if she didn't even know me.
What does it mean? ...I don't know. Women!
I called her today.
"It's not possible today," she said.
"No, tomorrow neither." ...Women.
Maybe she has a plan. ...What kind of plan, Kogi?
What do we know about women?
Maybe she doesn't like you constantly asking questions.
This woman has a past, for certain. I wouldn't go back there.
You recommended it yourself! ...Yes
But things change. I wouldn't go back there again.
Believe me.
One week later
Tonight's girl is a trainee.
It's possible you won't like her. But try to get along with her.
A different girl?
Since you were already leaving when you called, I asked her to stand in.
If you require a specific girl, you must notify me beforehand.
I understand. But what do you mean by "trainee"?
She's new. A young thing. It's unfamiliar, so she's afraid.
She wanted someone to go with her. I said no. The guest don't like it.
What, two at once?
Well... it wouldn't be altogether unpleasant for a man.
You think so? Tut-tut!
It doesn't matter.
She's lying there like the dead, so she shan't know what happens.
Of course not. But treat her gently, nonetheless.
She's not used to it yet. ...I won't harm her.
I know that.
Why did you turn me away last week? ...She's sleeping, go in!
Why did you humiliate me like that? ...I had no choice.
Furthermore, I knew you'd come back.
Who is this curious madame?
I sometimes think she is a bringer of death.
Perhaps my own...
'(our tea.
Don't you want any?
No, thank you.
What are you waiting for?
You may begin.
Soon.
When you've left.
You think I'd want to watch? No, no. I'm going now.
Can you help me into my coat?
Thank you.
I'll be going, then.
Have a pleasant night.
Do you know when you'll come again? Oh, pardon me. I'm going.
Wouldn't it be better if I left?
Am I not like all the other old men here, who just want
to suck new youth out of these sleeping beauties?
To enjoy women
who'd never even glance at them if they were awake.
Am I already such a wretch?
My daughter wouldn't be any older than you now.
What do they give you?
What?
Madame!
Are you still here?
Nothing is more beautiful than the innocent face of a sleeping girl.
No woman, no matter how beautiful, can banish the years from her face.
The sleeping face of a girl
looks beautiful even if she is not so pretty.
To sleep like the dead.
Like the dead...
If I were to squeeze now,
you wouldn't even notice.
How strange
that such a young girl,
one still learning to be a 'sleeping beauty',
should remind me so much of a woman.
Where was it...
In Hamburg, yes.
We were in a hotel, you know?
And when she awoke in the morning, she said
she had slept like the dead.
I told her
that she'd seemed very much alive to me.
Then she understood.
And on that morning at dawn,
we re-lived the entire night.
Then she told me that she was going to marry...
and quickly got dressed.
Sleep is something that is enigmatic, mysterious,
terrifying... like death.
Should I spare a thought for it,
or simply brush aside that which is... inevitable?
SW?
Sir!
Wake up!
It's time!
Wake up!
You'll catch a cold.
Didn't you hear me calling last night?
I'd like to be given the sleeping drug, so I may sleep as they do.
That is strictly forbidden, as I have told you.
It's dangerous for older people.
Even if I didn't wake up again, I'd never regret it.
It's only your third visit here,
and already you're saying such capricious things.
What are the limits of permitted capriciousness in this house?
You old lecher!
What are you thinking about?
“' 8 You'?
I'm sorry, I
Mr Kogmann is not here. ...Nonsense! He must be here.
Yes, but he cannot receive you.
Tell Kogi... Mr Kogmann... Is he unwell?
Be careful.
Why did she say
that I should be careful?
And why was she crying? ...Ah, boss, women...
Be quiet, Gold.
Green!
Slowly now. Shall I help you? ...No. I can manage.
I'm not so old that I need to be led by the hand.
I just wanted to help you. ...Do you also have guest,
half-crippled and senile idiots,
who wouldn't make it up the stairs without your help?
You shouldn't ask me about other guest. You know that.
It must be dangerous for old men in such weather.
What do you do if one has a stroke or a heart attack?
Should that happen...
then the guest would have a pleasant passage to paradise.
Don't get cynical now. But you wouldn't get away with it
so easily, am I right? ...Well, don't give it too much thought.
You always call so suddenly.
Did you not like any of the girls? ...No, I liked them all.
I mean it quite sincerely. Honestly.
If that's the case, you might call a few days in advance
to let me know which of the girls I should prepare for you.
You made it clear that it only leads to complications
if a guest becomes too fixated on one girl... Yes, I did.
So?
And what if I were the man you wished for,
and I came to this establishment? What would you think of me?
What are your usual guests like? Horny old men
who long to be with women again. With sexy women!
You know more than I do.
Then tell me, what is the most evil thing an old man can expect here?
There is no evil here.
No evil?
Even if you were to try to strangle one of the girls...
it would be no worse than Misting a baby's arm backwards.
You are disgusting!
And the strangled girl wouldn't notice?... I don't think so.
Then it is perfect for a violent suicide.
Should you feel too lonely to commit suicide alone... go ahead.
And what if the loneliness was
so intense that even suicide would not suffice to drive it out?
You've not drunk anything tonight, have you? You're talking so strangely.
And what if an old man who knew he was going to die
wanted to take one of these young, virginal, dissolute children
with him on his journey to death?
The girl tonight is hot-blooded.
Just right for such a cold night. You can warm yourself up.
It's pointless.
She can't hear you anyway.
What did you say'? Is that French?
I could simply make her pregnant. She wouldn't even notice.
And then?
No, no. For the old there is death,
for the young there is love.
Death comes to us only once...
But what about love?
Who knows?
I was about ten years old...
I lay in hospital with pneumonia. I was running a high fever,
and was assailed by shivering fits.
I heard the doctor tell my mother that there was no hope for me,
that she should start making funeral preparations.
My mother crawled onto my bed, crying bitterly out loud.
Her cheeks were drenched...
She clasped me, the warmth of her despair spreading to my body.
I clutched her too...
She wouldn't stop crying.
And then, suddenly,
after two weeks I was discharged... healthy.
She'd saved my life.
But I, too, once helped Mama to survive.
It was just after the Great War, we were alone in our house.
Father was still in a prison camp, and she got sick with typhoid.
No doctor could help her, they said.
The city was full of sick people and medical supplies had run out.
An old woman from the neighbourhood
told her to out off some of her hair every clay and eat it.
That was the only thing that could help in such times.
Mama did as the old woman said, and, out of desperation, ate her hair.
After just one week, she looked utterly wretched.
I thought, "Now the illness is consuming here."
Then she had no hair left at all.
She stroked my head and said,
"Now I'm going to cut off
a lock of your hair."
Back then I had thick, curly hair,
but after two weeks, she'd even eaten all of that.
Then suddenly, as if by a miracle,
she became healthy again.
We would often stand together in front of the mirror...
and laugh about our bald heads.
I noticed then that she had even cut off all her pubic hair.
Good morning! It's already after seven!
I'm awake!
I'm just about to get dressed.
The Devil himself couldn't drag me away from here!
Enough! You have to get up now. Wait! I'll help you.
Did you fall back to sleep? ...Was I sleeping, or dreaming?
Here, put this on. I'll make some tea.
Breakfast is already laid out.
Incidentally, the newspaper reports
about the old man who died in that establishment
only mentioned a "sudden death". In any case,
they managed to secretly move him into a cheap hotel during the night.
People are saying
that there is probably some organization behind it.
Anyway, you should be very careful.
Is there anything I have to fear?
They managed to deal with it unnoticed that time,
but if such an incident should happen again, then...
Well, I have the feeling...
that this establishment could not
continue to exist much longer.
Two days later
On the prowl
for daughters of pleasure, a punter finds his prey with ease.
You've come on such a cold night? ...Yes, I find it terribly cold too.
To warm oneself on a young body on such an icy night,
and perhaps to die a sudden death... That must be paradise for an old man.
What vile things you talk of! ...An old man is a neighbor of death.
I hope you're not referring to me.
It's like the wind is blowing through the cracks... There are none.
Oh, you mean the season? Yes.
And if the dead one's spirit were here?
Spirit of a dead one?
Madame...
You know about it? ...Well, yes.
I understand. You know about it, but you still came here.
May I please ask you to leave?
Since I knew it but came anyway, then everything is alright, isn't it?
These things do happen, after all.
Winter is a dangerous time for us old people.
I don't know what kind of old men frequent this place,
I only know Kogi. ...No names, please. I didn't hear that.
But surely you know Mr Kogmann?
How long have you known Kogi...
who?
Kogmann.
No, I don't know him.
If a second or third death occurred here,
you 'd face serious complications.
But I wouldn't be to blame. ...Partly to blame, without question.
The body of the dead man was taken...
What was his name again? ...Please, no names.
Under the cover of night, secretly,
to some place or other...
You helped do it.
I saw you.
We had to consider the gentleman's reputation.
His reputation?
You mean that even dead men have a reputation to lose?
Yes, the newspapers would gleefully write about a prominent old man
who died at the side of a naked young woman.
A scandal!
Was it passion?
Or even...
murder?
An investigation into the death may have entailed awkward enquiries.
And since this establishment
is rather unusual, the other guests may have been inconvenienced.
Not to mention the girls...
But the girl must have been so fast asleep that she couldn't have noticed.
Certainly not!
Had we left the gentleman here,
we would've had to remove the girl and hide her. Moreover,
it would be easy to establish that a woman had been lying with him.
Ah, she lay nestled close to him as if to warm him?
This is pure fantasy! I really must ask you to go now.
But I was merely joking.
How did you actually realise that the old man was dead?
Well... I heard a strange moaning. So I went upstairs to take a look.
The old man's pulse had stopped, and his heart had stopped beating.
Uh'?
So you were there when the old man dies?
And the girl...
didn't notice anything?
Even when the old man was taken away?
It's all arranged so that the girls aren't woken by such things.
"By such things"...
And you've arranged it like that?
Do I know the girl who was with him? ...I can't tell you.
You shouldn't ask so many questions!
And now... go along to the girl.
Oh, I forgot to tell you...
There are two girls tonight.
Two?
The first time I had sex, it was also with two women.
If you could call it that.
It was Walburga's Holy Communion.
Walburga was fourteen,
and I was twelve.
And Camilla, her younger sister, was nine years old.
At 10 or 11 o'clock, we children had to go to bed.
We had to sleep in their parents' bed, which had room for three.
Walburga lay in the middle,
Camilla lay on her left, and I lay on her right.
Suddenly I felt
a warm hand on my stomach.
She felt her way, deeper...
and then thrust her hand into my pajama trousers.
We kissed each other breathlessly.
She took my hand, and guided it to her pussy.
It felt incredible.
She helped my take off my trousers,
and pulled up her night-dress all the way to her neck.
I felt her breasts, which were already fully developed.
Our hands were everywhere.
Then she moaned so loud that Camilla woke up. "What are you doing?"
she asked, and climbed over us.
And she snuggled up to me too.
Then, unexpectedly and unsuspectingly,
she brushed against me.
She cried out, full of indignation,
"Wally, he's not wearing any trousers!"
Exactly 15 years ago today, I lost Monika and my daughter.
It's hard to believe it's so long ago.
What have I done in all these years?
Why did you leave me?
Why?
I don't believe you...
It wasn't an accident.
I simply can't believe that.
You wanted to get away from me.
But Why?
I don't understand.
Whatever I did wrong... You can't simply vanish from someone's life,
just like that.
And why did you take Kiki,
our little child,
my child, your child,
along with you?
That was what you always used to call her: Kiki.
Oh, Monika... why?
Papa!
Kiki, my child.
Judging from her breasts, she's 20 at most.
What's your voice like, I wonder.
When I really like an actress, I shut my eyes and just listen to her voice.
And I imagine she's talking to me, that I'm all alone with her.
She has lipstick on her lips.
I'm going to steal a kiss from you.
Surely a guest of this place is permitted a kiss?
It's not forbidden, is it?
It's said the lips of a sleeping woman are cold and moist.
But don't the lips of a dead loved one
convey an even greater shudder of emotions?
Have you ever kissed a dead person's lips?
No.
Yes!
Mama.
I kissed her in the coffin.
Well, it wasn't a proper kiss.
Or maybe it was.
It was a farewell kiss.
I had no chance to give my wife and daughter a farewell kiss.
The crash.
And what if it really wasn't an accident?
I should accept this invitation.
Forgive me.
You must forgive me.
I'm just old, that's all.
The death of an old fart is an ugly affair.
How did the madame put it?
It must be like a passage into paradise for him.
It would nice if it were so.
I should try to get to sleep.
I'm going to take these tablets...
then I'll sleep as she does.
What distinguishes her from a corpse is that blood circulates,
that she is breathing.
The difference is
that she will wake up tomorrow with no feelings of love or shame.
But perhaps she will feel disgust, and her conscience will torment her.
She doesn't even know the man who stole her innocence.
She'll probably suspect that it was one of the old men.
And she won't even tell the madame, because she's afraid.
And since she'll remain silent about an old man's breaking the rules,
the affair will remain concealed forever.
If I should die during the night, lying here between these two girls,
would it not be the last true fulfillment?
Then they'd carry me, like all those other old fools, to some sleazy hotel.
And they'd say that I'd committed suicide with sleeping pills.
There'd be no farewell note.
And since no motive would be known, it would be explained thus:
I was full of despair for the miserable bit of life before me
and so forth.
Who will be the last woman in my life? What makes me think that?
The last woman? And which one would be the first?
The first woman?
It was my mother.
What makes me think that?
My first woman, yes.
As she suckled me, I kissed her nipples.
Am I permitted to think such things?
Then some time later... How old was I?
Eight? Yes, perhaps...
She was going out and wanted to say good night, and I kissed her bosom.
And she said...
You're not allowed to do that anymore.
You're not my husband, after all.
Mama...
How long is it since you died?
Welcome home, son.
Why are you two just standing there? Come here to me!
Is your wife always so shy?
Mama, what are these flowers for?
Well, just come inside now.
I almost didn't recognise our house.
Oh, what lovely flowers!
But we never had flowers like these before!
Oh, look, a red droplet is falling from this flower.
What is it?
It is blood.
Oh, God!
Madame!
Come here!
What's the matter?
What are you doing? - Her lips have gone cold. The girl is dead.
Dead? That's impossible.
Did you do anything to hen'? - Heavens, no!
She is not dead, don't let it trouble you.
What did you give hen'? Perhaps she suffered an allergic reaction.
Don't worry, you won't be inconvenienced. Your name is safe.
Nevertheless, she is dead. ...No, I don't believe she is.
Can I help? - No, a man is waiting downstairs... But she's heavy.
Don't worry, just lie down again. The other girl is still there.
Are you insane?
How am I meant to sleep? No, I shall go home directly!
Please don't, it wouldn't be good if you were seen
leaving here at such a time.
All I know
of death is that which we all know: that it takes us
and plunges us into silence.
A copy of the 'Süddeutsche Zeitung'. ...1.50, please.
Hello. A 'Maxi', please.
And 20 in change.
Young defiance blossoms on your lips.
Crimson-red.
It's not the first time he's broken a house rule.
But he must be punished.
One mustn't hold it against him. My friend suffers from loneliness.
He has no pleasure in life anymore.
I would so much like to release him.
You do understand what I mean?
I understand.
I'll take care of everything.
I'll be in touch.
Did you want to say something? ...No... no.
Sometimes I think that maybe he does look at me.
And then he becomes cold once more.
Yes.
You may come.
As usual.
But not before eleven.
DOUBT
What is 'staying'?
What is 'finally being' in all of this?
The following evening
Boss,
wake up.
Thank you, Mr Gold.
Weary of everything, I shall be gone
dying and leaving
my love alone.
An angel escorts me to eternal rest.
It is done.
I knew that I could rely on you, my dear.