De skrigende halse (1993) - full transcript

I'm Ronni Olsen, from the
death cult band Screaming Throats .

We need 15,000 to cut an album ...

All because you didn't say we were
Frank and the Screaming Throats.

And because you're a clown, Ronni.

The Screaming Throats

Stop! Stop!

Stop!

Ronni, why can't you
just play the way we agreed?

Ronni,
the rest of us practice for hours.

Then you show up without
knowing your part.

I'm having a bad time,
with diarrhoea and all, Frank -



- and Anders.

Ronni ... get this:

Without me you'd have got into
some real deep shit or other.

If you want to be on an album,
get your act together -

- and put a bung up your arse.
Or it's out, Ronni.

Out.

You said nobody was more
important than anyone else.

Shut your face.

I'm going to throw up.

You're a shit-head, Ronni.

Hi, Ronni.

I'd like a ...

- The strongest.
- Thanks.

Ronni ...



Jim Morrison died in 1971.
Sid Vicious in 1979.

Eik Skaløe in 1968.

Beside his skeleton in India
lay a letter.

This is a suicide. There's no one
to blame but the devil inside of me.

- Heavy, man.
- Heavy as hell.

Maybe Eik Skaløe was a hippie.
But deep down inside he was black.

I don't know what to
think of those old hippies ...

Well, Ronni ... do
the Throats get a discount here, -

- or have you all quit?

Hi, Djarnis!
I thought you were dead.

No, I've got a fatal disease
called "overnice".

My doctor told me, "Djarnis,
you're overnice. Stop it at once".

That's why Djarnis Records quit
releasing albums. I was over nice.

By the way, you owe me for
that tape I released of you.

We paid you ...

Ronni, lad ...

If I ever do any new releases, -

- that money would be
a horrid thought, wouldn't it?

If anyone owes anyone
any money round here ...

Shut your face.
Get that money by tonight.

- If that's you, Ronni, piss off.
- Just 5 minutes! I'll behave.

Hi, little mouse ...

I'm not your little mouse any more.

I was wondering
if you'd lend me 1000 crowns.

Of course, Ronni!

Would you like all my
clothes and albums too?

And to chain me up
so I can't write poems?

Will you come
and hear us play at the Razor?

Ronni, I want this money back.

Can't we stop giving it a break now?

You can start by paying me back.

Hi, lads!

Hi, Djarnis, lad!
Ronni isn't here yet.

Frank, lad, we can't have you
calling me "Djarnis, lad".

No.
Right.

Some of you owe
me dough, I believe.

Here's Ronni!

You're late, you clown!

Lads, I know your tape didn't sell.
Not a single metre of it.

But do a good concert on Friday,
and Djarnis will do you an album.

We'll create a cult around you.

No problem.

But know this:

I am mad about
electric guitar riffs ...

If you can do that, Ronni,
you're well wicked.

Right on, Djarnis, lad.

But I've got tummy trouble
and it's going to my fingers.

Ronni, lad ...

As I was telling Frank, lad,
this recording contract depends -

- on your calling me Djarnis,
and not "Djarnis, lad". Get it?

And don't tell me about your tummy.
Just go ...

Right on.

Pitch black, right?

All you see are my
brightly shining eyes.

And Anders'.
But mostly mine.

We'll scream up to the sky.
Looking totally desperate.

Then Screaming Throats
will be printed in blood red.

A totalitarian state, right?
I mean, it's 1984, right?

What about my eyes, Frank?

Can't you just stay
behind that dustbin?

Ronni, just stand still.

Why do I have
to stand in this puddle?

- For the depth, you clown.
- I'll get really ill.

Stop ...

Listen, Ronni.

It's ...

Not ...

Are you deaf, or what?

It also depends on
my expressiveness.

The psychopath is interested.
All you have to do is ...

- I always get the difficult bits.
- And I sweat most.

Why can't you just go ...
... as we agreed?

- OK, I'll try.
- It's because you don't do junk.

I do, Anders does.
I was on heroin when I wrote this.

But I suppose
you've just got the runs again?

If I promise to practice ...

- Promises are not enough.
- No. But if I guarantee.

OK, Ronni ... Don't just
you fucking blow it, Ronni ...

Surgery hours are over.

Ronni, why can't you make
appointments like anyone else?

- Just 5 minutes, Dr. Kronborg ...
- All right then.

But no longer.

Look!

I can't play with the shakes, -

- and I've got a
vital concert tonight.

So I was wondering if I could
have something to calm me down?

Not pills, Ronni.
You're far too young.

You think I should just shake
and make a fool of myself?

I'll blow our chances.
But you don't care.

You pester me and
I hate being pestered ...

Your insurance number?

2112620579 ...

You're such a good doctor.

The way you understand
a guitarist's problems ...

And because you're so youthful.

I've written you a prescription.

But we have a couple of minutes, -

- so I'd like to check
your circumcision scar.

Pants down, please.

- But that was over 15 years ago!
- Then it's about time we looked.

Oh, that's very nice.

Put it away.

You can have your pills.
But you must promise -

- never, never again
to ask me for anything like it.

Right?

Wicked, Dr. Kronborg!

Valium.

Hey, Ronni! Get on with it!

We're on two minutes ago!

There's blood.
Have you ever tried shitting blood?

Is he still crapping away?

Bloody hell!

When did that shit-head
begin taking nerve medicine?

They're my pills, Frank!

If you're not out by the count
of three, I'll eat your pills.

One, two, three.

Don't look like a baby's bum
out there. Look mean.

Depression ...

Come on Ronni!

What the fuck are you at? Wake up!

Help him, he's sick.

Sure, Ronni's sick.
Sick in the head.

Now I wanna sing
a song I wrote on acid.

Open the door!

Open up!

You little dog shit, open the door!

OK!

So you fucked that up too, Ronni.

You look like a dog turd.

You'd be better off as a baby sitter.

Instead of screwing up
other people's lives.

What are you playing at?

Wake up!
Wake up, I say!

You're a fucking parasite.

Hey, cool it!

What are you playing at?

Is that any way
to treat a dying man?

You wouldn't like it
if Ronni kicked you, would you?

Come on, Anders ...
you know what Ronni's like!

Frank, get your act together.

Ronni .. is it real bad?

Are you real sick?

Djarnis, lad, I'm dying.

There, there, Ronni, lad ...

I know it's tough.

I've seen loads of people
who were dying, loads.

The first shock is the worst.
But you get used to it.

Know what?

Know what Djarnis is going to do?

Djarnis is going to make a mini
live farewell album with you.

"The Testament".
That's what we'll call it.

It's a sure fire thing.
We'll sign the contract tomorrow -

- when you're feeling better.

I'm really sorry, Ronni.
I didn't know you were dying.

That's OK, Frank.

Got the money?

How much have you?

I'm ill, so I haven't
been able to get the money.

But I've got the Throats
a recording contract.

If you're ill, you should be at home
in bed, not waking me up at night.

I really need that money.

Did you hear me?
We're cutting an album!

When did you ever show
any interest in my poems?

They're as much me
as I am.

Of course. When can we start
going out together again?

Listen ...

I don't think
we should ever go out again.

I'm moving to Berlin.
To write.

Are you telling me you've
found a length of German dick?

The Throats and Copenhagen
aren't the centre of the world.

The Berlin Wall, Ronni!

What about it?

It symbolizes the decadent
decline of western imperialism!

The hookers and the beggars die
while the wall remains.

That wall will still be there
when you and me are dead.

And you talk about German dick!
You're disgusting, Ronni.

Don't be scared.
You'll go to hell, -

- with Eik, Jim, Sid
and Ian from Joy Division ...

Stop poking fun at death, Iggy.

Hello, Lads!
Ronni, lad ...

I've been thinking.
You're going to die, right?

So I've made this for you.
I've seen you limping.

- Thank you, Djarnis!
- You deserve it.

We'll ask Iggy to give you twice
the usual musician's discount.

Then you won't have to pay
for your own drinks at all ...

You know the concert's on Friday?

Er ...

Friday?
That's only six days away!

The Razor wasn't booked that night.

We have to strike
while you can still play.

But enough of negative things.
Look!

The contract.

There.

Mega!

Frank, there'll be a great pic
of you on the inside cover.

Djarnis, isn't the cover something
we should look at together ...

Did I hear you say "Djarnis, lad"?
Or was it just "Djarnis"?

Djarnis.

I hope so, Frank.

But we can't be sure, can we?

If only we could go back in time ...

- You do want to be on the album?
- Right.

Ronni, can you get your quack
to write down that diagnosis?

The graphics designer needs it
for the cover tomorrow.

With the doc's rubber stamp
and signature and the works.

The doctor's signature?

Sit down ...

Ronni?

It's not your turn!

I wondered it you'd like to be
the first to sign a protest -

- against the abuse of infants?
I know you're such a good person.

Ronni, you'll just forge a
prescription or doctor's certificate -

- because you don't want to have
the shakes during a concert ...

I know I mustn't
ask you for anything.

But I do need a doctor's certificate.

What would you need
a doctor's certificate for?

I need a prognosis on a bit of paper.
It'll get me onto a record -

- and I'll stop being nervous -

- and maybe I'll never need to
ask you for anything ever again.

Ronni, you're
manipulating me again!

No, not at all.

On a record?
Because of a doctor's certificate?

The producer is mad,
and wants proof that I'm dying.

- Why does he want you to die?
- To turn me into a myth.

- It'll be on the cover.
- Ronni, stop lying to me!

If that diagnosis is so important,
you'll have to earn it.

It doesn't come for free!

No! No! Not that!

Relax, Ronni!

I'm so worried about my cousin.

If he goes to bed
with the army doctor, -

- he may be declared
unsuitable for conscription.

Hi! Aren't you
the Ronni who's dying?

I just want you to know
that lots of us feel behind you.

I just want you to know -

- that if you need any help,
I'll help you.

When you die, too.

Great.
I won't forget.

I've thought about your cousin.

He should steer clear of it.
He'd be better off topping himself.

Be real, man.
My cousin is in deep shit.

Ronni, why didn't you
tell me you were dying?

To protect you.

That money, right?

Forget about it.

Aren't you going away?

I told you I was going
to Berlin to write, right?

Some bloke or other, right?

Yes ... But Ronni
... it's all over.

What's he called?

Jürgen ...

How can anyone screw
a bloke called Jürgen?

The reason I look so cool in
those pics is 'cos I'm on heroin.

Frank, lad ... your pupils
tell me you're lying again.

You weren't on heroin.
You were on speed.

Ronni, lad ... where's the diagnosis?

Um ... listen ...

The doctor said she couldn't give
her papers to complete strangers.

But I'll get it.

But it's important, Ronni, lad.

That diagnosis is
vital to "The Testament".

Yeah, you'll have to get
hold of that bit of paper.

Why?

Why?

You ask why, Anders?

Why not ask why I'm so nice
and you're so fucking moronic?

Because if he doesn't get it,
we'll have to scrap the project.

I completely agree.
All I'm saying -

- is that it is a bit more
complicated than I thought.

Ronni, be nice!

Ronni, I want you now ...

That's it for today.

No, no, not until we've
agreed on a regular basis ...

What are you after, Dr. Kronborg?

Twice a week, Ronni.
For a while.

- I need that prognosis.
- Diagnosis, Ronni.

And I need you.

Ronni, you wouldn't try
to cheat me, would you?

Oh, Ronni ...

Yes?

Bloody hell, Ronni ...

This certificate is the
beginning of a rock'n'roll myth.

Ronni, lad!

Djarnis, lad ... Sorry!

That's OK, Ronni, lad.

You're the only person who's ever
been allowed to call me that.

Apart from Eik Skjaløe,
but he's dead.

I'm really pleased ... Djarnis, lad.

Ronni, lad!

Djarnis, lad ...

I was thinking,
when we hit the streets -

- there'll be a real hullabaloo.
Of course you won't see it, -

- because you'll be dead.
But what about a cover reception -

- tomorrow evening?
Iggy will lend us the café.

As for the concert,
I've got tons of ideas.

Torches, a cross, a coffin,
and tons of coke.

Right.

Another thing, Ronni.
When you're buried, -

- it must be tip-top.
10% of the album profits -

- will be spent on your grave.
What do you say to that?

- Fucking wicked, Djarnis.
- And another thing ...

What was it?
I've forgotten, Ronni, lad.

Hey ...

You've no idea
how much you mean to me.

Without you, the Throats
would be nothing at all.

You're not too bad yourself, Ronni.
Right, Frank?

Without Ronni, the Throats
would be worth zilch.

Come on, Frank.
Isn't it true?

Anders, you don't need
to get Frank to love me.

If Frank doesn't like me,
that's his problem.

Right, Ronni.

- I mean, we're grown men.
- Right, Ronni.

I'm sick of hearing about Ronni.

- That's Ronni's amp, you cretin!
- Up Ronni's arse.

As if this band was only Ronni!

We didn't form this band
to give anyone an ego trip.

We formed it together.

This Ronni stuff
is getting out of proportion.

Sure.
But Ronni happens to be dying.

Yes.
But can he play? Can you play?

- Control yourself, Frank.
- I'm sorry you're dying, Ronni.

But it's no reason
for you to act the clown.

You're the clown, Frank.
You shit on Ronni.

That's why he got sick.
In a way you're a criminal.

Ronni is as much the core
of the throats as you are.

- More!
- I can't take this screaming.

I had a doctor's appointment,
but now I must lie down instead.

Think about it.

Hi!

I don't mean to burst in ...

... but I wondered if you needed
someone to clean up for you?

Or maybe cleaning up
would make you feel down ...

I've been on speed
for the last two days -

- because you really influence me.
Your death ...

... and your eyes.
Your eyes, Ronni ...

It's like they've seen something
terrible and I don't know what.

And I wanted to ask you to write
your name just here, as a model.

A model?
An autograph?

Just a little one.

I've never made it with
someone who knew he was dying.

I know three who've been sectioned.
Their eyes are just like yours.

Think about it ...
I'll have to die one day, too.

I can feel it inside.
Can you feel it, too?

Sure.

Do what you do on stage.

Hold my breasts.

And think that they'll die, too.

Kiss me!

Kiss me!

Use me like a plaything ...

I want you, Ronni!

Oh, Ronni!

Know what I want?

I want to go to Berlin with you.

- To Berlin.
- No! No!

OK ... OK, Ronni.

All you people
who are really alive -

- either you die,
or they lock you up.

But that never happens to me!

Nobody knows
precisely when I'll die.

I am a bit tired.
I'll see you downstairs.

I want to kiss you ...

I think you're really cute, -

- and I'm sorry you feel
that way about being sectioned.

But I can't betray my girlfriend.

When the time comes,
will you try and think of me?

Of course.
Sure I will. See you.

Ronni, you mustn't see other women.
I thought we had a deal.

You mustn't come here.
I'll come to you tomorrow.

You must go now.

You mustn't see other women!

- That was my cleaning lady!
- When will I see you again?

- Tomorrow, I promise.
- And no more women! Promise!

Right ...

Ronni, I'm so scared
about everything.

Anita, what would you say if
I turned out not to be ill at all?

Ronni, I know I was
a bastard to chuck you.

I thought I was
so clever and cool and mature.

Can you ever ...

... forgive me?

Of course I can.

Everything is just
so hard these days.

Are you scared of
the thought of death?

I once thought that maybe
the universe ends somewhere ...

But what's on
the other side of where it ends?

Perhaps another universe,
and another, and another ...

Mind-blowing.

The problem with you, Ronni ...

... is that you're far too good.

Never mind Berlin ...

That which is you ...

... is far more valuable.

You're the wisest girl I've ever met.

Hi, Kirsten!

Hi, Ronni!
Great seeing you.

- Hi, Anders.
- Hi, Frank.

- Is Djarnis here yet?
- Ronni ...

Your diagnosis may
fill most of cover.

But Djarnis confirmed he'd picked
the pic from the back yard.

- The one where I'm up front.
- That's all you think about.

Let's not argue.

Anders .. Frank ...
Hi, Ronni, lad!

- Hi, Djarnis, lad!
- Hi, Djarnis, lad!

Pardon?

I just said, hi, Djarnis, man.

On the one hand,
I wish this band all the best.

On the other hand, I can't accept
your calling me "Djarnis, lad".

- No. Right.
- But I'll bury the hatchet.

And you can pay the next
installment on this.

Come here, everyone!
Ronni, open the box!

Get the ball rolling!
OK, Ronni, lad?

It's the pic from the back yard.

Sorry? I can't didn't hear you.

I'm having it done next week.

Who's she?

She is very ill.
They're going to section her.

- Four of your strongest.
- I beg your pardon?

Four of your strongest, dick head!

- Where are you going, mouse?
- To have a wee wee, mouse.

Why didn't you say the diagnosis
would be on the cover?

I did, but you thought
I was lying, Dr. Kronborg.

Well, you are a liar, Ronni.
Who was that girl?

- Not your cleaning lady.
- An old friend from school.

What are we to do?
We can't allow that cover.

But Dr. Kronborg ...

OK, but we'll have
to make a new arrangement.

You mustn't even speak
to other women.

If anyone asks,
the cover was your idea.

And I want to feel that
I mean something to you, -

- like when we started.
Ronni, take me, take me!

It's seething out there.

Ronni, lad, they're all out there
waiting to pay tribute to you.

Just to help you relax ...

Heroin weakens
my immune defences.

Let me have it, then!

- Frank, we've got a concert to do.
- Dead right.

- Unless you buy it off me.
- Why can he have it?

Don't talk to him like that.
He's the one who's dying.

- And you're screwing up his debut.
- It's my debut too!

Be human and give it him!

Ronni, lad ...

You're so fucking wise ...

Sometimes one forgets
one is only human.

Right, help carry the cross
on stage so we can get started.

Ronni, lad, there's a surprise
waiting for you on stage.

It's Eik Skaløe's hobby guitar.
He played it just before he died.

Another thing ... after a couple
of numbers, faint like last time.

But last time,
I fainted for real, Djarnis, lad.

Sure .. yes, you're sick.

But if you don't feel you're
going to faint, faint anyway.

On my signal? OK?

Sure, anything for you, Djarnis, lad.

OK, lads! Go for it!

Frank, it's an ultra live album, right?

It's going to be far out.

Ronni, one girl said
she'd had your tattoo done.

- She asked how you were ...
- Good luck, Ronni mouse!

Down a bit ...

Ronni! Ronni!

Ronni! Ronni mouse!

Is there a doctor in the house?
Call an ambulance!

I'm his girlfriend.

Fingers off my Ronni!

You promised
you'd never see that bitch again.

What the hell are you at?

I am his doctor.
He wrote that certificate.

You wrote it.
Don't call me a liar!

It's because I'm in such a bad state.
Diarrhoea and all, Djarnis, lad.

How many times
do I have to tell you ...

My name's Djarnis.
Not "Djarnis, lad".

Come with me.
Come here, you little git.

Hey ... where are you going?

If you don't come this instant -

- you'll have to pay
a month of my rent.

That guitar brings bad luck.

I didn't want to tell you.

What the hell are you looking at?

It wasn't me who ran him over.

Call that ambulance.

Ronni ...

Ouch, Iggy.

Are you bad?

I've got a bit of diarrhoea ...

... I just need to ...

Just shit away, Ronni.

Why is it so dark?

It's probably just a power cut.

Ronni ...

I think I can make it ...

You can come and see me in Berlin.

Frank, you've just released a
masterpiece under the name -

- of Ronni and the Screaming
Throats called The Testament.

- That's correct.
- I'm their manager.

5% of the profits are
going to Ronni lad's grave.

All the critics
are calling it a masterpiece.

"An album that makes
me scream and shout", -

- "cult to myth via desperate
kamikaze guitarist Ronni Olsen -

- and his tumultuous testament".
What's the story behind the album?

For us it's not a masterpiece.

It's brutal reality.
Flesh and blood.

But how will
Ronni's death affect your music?

I think our music shows
that we have seen a man die.

- It's a process of cogniti ...
- Shut up and let me finish.

When Ronni died -

- we got to know
life in a different way.

So I'd like to say "good-bye to
falseness, hello to openness, -

- good-bye to that silly name,
The Screaming Throats.

Hello to The New Throats.