Popular Music (2004) - full transcript
Two boys grow up together in the town of Pajala during the 1960s. United by rock'n'roll music.
"Knapsu": A synonym of old women?s work,
unmanly, silly, feminine
-Bye-bye, Niila.
It is in that moment
memory opens up-
like a pipe, a dizzying shaft...
straight down to my childhood.
It was the mid 60's, Sweden was
flourishing, the economy booming-
Even Tornedalen was pulled
into the rush of success.
Thanks to the boom, people made
their way up, got villa loans.
Progress came so fast, people still
felt poor, despite being rich.
Now and then came the fear that
all would be taken away
Our area was called Vittulaj?nk?,
Pussy-bog.
Like some homage to female fertility,
since so many kids were born there.
-Here comes asphalt, smooth and nice
like a baby-butt, to make a fine road.
-What's that, Daddy?
-Speak Swedish!
-Asphalt
-What is asphalt?
-Asphalt...
-Asphalt you see, that's the future-
we're gonna dress poverty
in black skin.
-Go inside!
-I said, go inside!
Asphalt, an unneeded luxury
All was a sign of our wealth, a promise
of a future in lavishness and wealth.
-D'you know, if you keep biking on that
road. Know where you'll end up?
-You'll get to China,
'cause my Dad said so.
-My name is Matti.
What's yours?
-What's your name?
I understood that he
wanted to be my friend.
He had something that I lacked-
an energy that ran like a caged animal
looking for a way out.
Something warm and vulnerable.
An inner fire.
-Prick, butt.
-Prick, butt.
Say it!
-Poo!
-Come on and say it!
Like most Laestadians, Isak
worked a lot and demanded little.
He placed himself in God's place.
It was the worst form of it, the
Laestadianism without God.
-Is he also from England?
-'Course he does, what did you think?
-At least I know where I'm going.
You can come visit me in Liverpool,
see some of the big world.
Sis' did her best to keep up-
but it was far between Pajala
and the world.
-What are you doing?
Are you trying to kill me?
-Stop moving, then.
-I'm not dancing on the table, am I?
-Well, there's nothing wrong
with your rifle.
-How long do you think the hunting
party will let you stay in?
-You good-for-nothing,
I've shot 30 16-tiners in my days.
-I'm the only one in the party
who can hit a moose.
-At a 300 meters distance.
In the dark.
-Solveig, what have I done for God
to punish me with such children?
-Since when do you believe in God?
-Since you came in through the door.
-I'd rather had daughters, who could
care for me when I get old.
-Well, that's not too late...
-No, it's not too late.
-If I find me a young
and pretty Russian...
-What would a young and
pretty Russian need you for?
-Don't talk bullshit! Find a young
girlie for yourself instead.
-How long are you going to
hang around, leading a bachelor life?
-Ville? Never thought of using
plastic flowers instead?
-Huh? -So you won't have to
buy new ones every time!
-Marry a Finnish or a Lappish girl
or anything. Just get married.
Your bachelor life turns you into
a recluse or a suicide.
-When I was at your age, I had four
children. -Yeah, that you knew of...
-Welcome to this week's
language course in Esperanto.
-I speak Esperanto.
-I speak Esperanto.
-I speak Esperanto.
-How are you?
-How are you?
-I am fine.
-I am fine.
-Look at you all plastered with make-up!
-I'm moving to London, Piccadilly Circus.
-Are you moving to a circus?
-You wouldn't dare, you cheeky brats!
If you'd ever put one foot in my room,
I'd kick your milk teeth into your brains
so you'd get an early disability
retirement.
-Beat it!
Uncle Ville had always been a bachelor-
many times had he been
to Finland to propose
but he was never lucky.
-How they bite this year.
-Just let them bite, Ryssi.
-They're the only female thing
willing to bite us.
-Been to Finland?
-Yup...
-No luck this time either?
-Nope...
Ryssi-Jussi, the last real
pedlar in these parts.
One of the countryside's
most feared personality.
One to be avoided.
If you could.
-This will do the trick, Ville.
-It makes the baggiest old man feel
strong as an ox and horny as a dog.
-And what the fuck do I need that for.
-If you're not to stingy for a 10:er
I'll let you in on the secret.
-Buy a car.
An American car.
Finnish women are
crazy about cars.
The bigger,
the better.
-Rolf and Jorma,
sit up straight!
-My name is Jarmo,
you bloody cunt!
-20 km from here is Finland.
Finnish is spoken there.
This is Sweden. Here we speak
Swedish. At least in school.
Understood?
Is there anyone who knows
where Stockholm's five...
-Mathias?
-Jarmo threw an eraser at me.
-Now, knock it off, Jarmo
or you'll have to leave.
-"Knock it off..."
-Stockholm has...
Later, we understood that our
home region really didn't-
belong to Sweden.
We had gotten there by chance.
A northern appendix,
where people happened to live
who only partly
managed to be Swedes.
There was only one way out.
In Stockholm, one would
finally become a human being.
-Miss, the map is wrong.
-The map of Sweden?
-Yes, Sk?ne fits in
between Haparanda and...
-Firstly, we raise our hand when
we have something to say.
-Secondly, size does not matter.
-Anything else?
Sit down, Niila!
-"Miss, Jarmo threw an
eraser on me."
-Say, you're sorry!
-Sorry...
-Did you hear anything?
-Nah... -Me neither.
-Let him go. Hit me instead.
-We will, later.
The school janitor, he hated kids.
He always appeared from nowhere,
and leaped like a tiger-
to descended on his prey.
He pinched his fist like
pincers around the neck
and lifted until the head was
severed from the body.
One Sunday, something rare
happened in Pajala.
That is, the church was filled
up to the last seat.
The thing was that the Pajala people
were going to
see their first Negro in person.
-We're not this
fucking many in Pajala?
"Lovely is the earth,"
"glorious is the heaven of God..."
-He is fully live, goddamn it.
-My God he has no hair.
It's like steel wool.
-Entirely black! I thought he'd be
more like... brownish.
-He's actually almost blue.
-Dearly congregated, we welcome
Reverend Kampune-
from the crisis-hit Congo
down there.
Today's collection will,
in full, go to our-
suffering brothers and
sisters down there.
-Sister Felicia is only
here to translate.
-"I thank the Lord.
Thank the Lord."
-Malaria...
-She has malaria...
-Is anybody here who
speak English? English?
-Is there anybody
who speaks French?
-Anyone who speaks Arabic?
-How in the Lord's name do you
expect me to preach then?
-In Esperanto?
-I speak Esperanto.
-You speak Esperanto? Finally someone
who can speak in this congregation!
-Dearly congregated, today we
are gathered here to...
-Are you the village fool or are you
trying to make a fool out of me?
-I am fine. How are you?
-Brothers and sisters,
learn from this boy!
-Speak! Dare to talk yourselves
out of the darkness!
-Our Lord, who hears our prayers-
today has sent us a boy.
We thank you Lord,
we thank You.
-To believe in Jesus Christ is like
walking an ascent that never ends.
-Like a clock, you just have to
go go go,
but never to arrive.
-Take care of it.
-I am sorry, mother.
-For he who has not
confessed his sins...
...there is no forgiveness,
not from me, nor God.
-You who boozed your ministry away
and disgraced us for all future!
-Burn in hell, sinners!
-Come here, my boy.
-Not you, you whoremonger!
-You, Niila. Come...
-In the name and blood of Jesus Christ,
you are called upon. Take it.
This one, it is yours.
It is your guide.
-This is what you wanted, eh?
-You rascal!
Grandma had replenished the earth
as much as she could manage.
Her children were spread
all over the world...
in Kiruna, Lule? and Rovaniemi
Others in suburbs around Stockholm,
one in Missouri and in New Zealand.
-12 children she bore, the same
number as the apostles...
and like these you entered into
the world in all directions.
-But now, here you sit and sneer.
-But beware... Beware of
the wrath of the Lord!
-Because the forefinger of the Lord will sting
you in the heart like an iron-bar lever.
-Beware of the devil?s
red-hot frying pan
because there you will be fried
'til the meat juice flows!
Finally Grandma was with Jesus,
and we could all breathe freely.
Or so we thought.
-They come from the
graveyard. Angels.
-When the snow melts, the water
runs through the coffins,
and the souls of the stiffs
are washed away to here.
-Wooo! Grandma! Wooo!
-Stop! Stop! Wait! It's a present...
to our cousin.
-"Rosken roll musis..."
-Rock'n'roll music.
-Kiitos, tack, thank you.
-Grandma's bible.
-What does Rock'n'roll mean?
-Rock'n'roll music!
-They're from Liverpool, huh?
-They're not from bloody Pajala, are they?
-First thing when I'm 18, I'll be
moving out from this damn hole.
Cheeky brats, out! Beat it!
-But it is actually Niila's record.
-Let them taste,
so they'll shut up.
-I'll tear your heads off, and piss down
your throats if you snitch, just so you know!
-What are you doing?
-Nothing.
-Can I try?
-Hmm, you have to shake
your legs too. -Why?
-'Cause it makes the girls scream.
-In that case,
you'll have to sing.
-Hell, no...
-Yup.
-But I can't...
-Do it for the girls...
-I love you, baby!
-I love you too!
-How did se do it?
-Put out your tongue
No, not that much.
-Today, during "Funny-hour",
Niila will... Shhh! It is...
-Was it because of "Funny-hour"?
-We'll say you fell with your bike.
-Come, come, come... Don't be
afraid, I will not hurt you.
I just want to show
you a nice little rat...
-Knapsu-pigs from Vittulaj?nk?!
Let's get them!
-To hell with the Knapsu!
Get Niila instead!
-I'll get you, you little bastard!
-Damn rascal!
-Bloody bastard! I'm gonna let you
taste one thing and the other...
-Help me! Mommy, help...
Help me!
-Help me!
-Help me!
"The taste of a boy's kiss"
-Thanks...
-Damn, why can't there
be a real summer here.
-Anyway, Maggan is moving
to Lule? this fall.
-Are you moving too?
-Yeah, I have to if I get in to the University...
-But you'll come visit, right?
-Yeah, relax...
I'm not leaving tomorrow.
-One, two... One, two...
That's easy.
-I can't do anymore...
-You dare not even dream in Pajala, damn it!
-We can't stay here and rot in this
god-damned hole, Niila.
-Look... Only swamps and
a hell of a lot of mosquitoes.
-No restaurants or caf?s, and no celebrities.
We don't even have traffic-lights, god-damn!
-We're worse than the Sami. At least
they have their own language.
-We.. We speak with Swedish accent without being
Swedes and with a Finnish without being Fins.
-One thing I have learnt...
-Pajala does not belong to Sweden.
-One fine day, we'll move out of here.
-When?
-When what?
-When do we move?
-After high school, or something like that.
There's only two years left...
then we can go anywhere we want.
London... New York... Paris...
-China, Matti...
-What?
-We have to go to China and see the Himalayas.
-Wherever we want.
-Damn, how I long to be a grown-up.
-And I long for to fuck.
-It's old, but it is
smooth and nice.
-Eh Ryssi... A string is missing.
-Is it?
-I'll have that fixed by next week.
-Do you have three crowns? -Never mind,
I'm not greedy. We can settle that later.
-But, don't you want any lessons...
-Eh, for free...
-You know where I live...
-No, daddy... No...
-Go out and chop some wood.
-Is this enough , daddy?
-You should have been a girl...
-This is what becomes of man when
original sin isn't punished.
Somewhere inside of me, a switch was
turned off. Something happened inside.
Something took up room inside. One that
resembled me, but still were someone else.
-Matti, could you help me...?
-What are you doing?
-Reading...
-Stay there, dad wants to talk to you.
-Don't be lengthy, they'll be here soon.
-Yeah, yeah...
-Well, I'll be damned if this isn't more
exciting than TV with sound and all...
-Look at your feet.
I told you, look at your feet!
-Can you see? They're growing...
growing like mad.
-It's puberty, you see...
-Soon enough, Satan will
grow inside your belly and...
-... within a couple of years,
you will be a full-grown workman.
-After me, you'll be the one
to carry on the torch.
-Hell knows how that's gonna work...
-Well, anyhow, you have
probably been thinking about...
-...well, what do I know...
-...life...and...people...
and...things like that...
-This must stay between you and me,
between men.
-First of all...
my father...your grandpa, he was a...
horse-pisser in his youth, so...
I have two half-siblings...
they're about my age,
with children of their own...
they live somewhere around Pajala.
So you have five first-cousins
that you don't know of...
Three are girls, and you need to know
who they are, to avoid inbreeding...
...they are Susanna Kyr?,
Liselott Rautio and Monika Furvall.
-Lise...? Liselott in the parallel class?
-Yup...
-Secondly, and...well,
it's even more devilish...
...there are two families in this town
that have done us a lot of harm...
...and you must hate them for all time.
They are Salonen and the Niemis.
It originates from a
perjury trial 1929...
and it must be revenged with all
means as soon as you get a chance...
until those bastards have
confessed on their bare knees...
But soon, when you have a decent
employment in the municipality...
we can arrange a hell of a lot of devilry,
that will show those bastards.
Thirdly, and that's the worst of all,
we can't carry our liquor well, so if...
Well, try boozing at home first to make
sure you don't feel like fighting.
And fourth, and this is probably
the most devilish...
mental disease runs in the family...
and it can easily be
triggered by falling in love...
so stay away from troublesome
women with fear of sex...
If you come across one who doesn't
want to surrender her hole, just swap.
Do as I did. Find a fat-assed
one who can bear kids.
Oh, one last thing... The writing...
It's not your thing...
you need a job with manual work,
so you don't have to ponder on...
religion and God and the meaning of life
and all that bloody shit.
-Ville, they're here now!
-Oh, for fuck's sake...
-The current is strong further down, boys!
Row up the river!
-Goddamn, they're making
a splash out of this!
Matti, run over to uncle Einari
and tell him they're here now.
Them bastards will be put
in their place right away!
-Can't you park your car behind the corner?
I feel ashamed! -Yes, yes...
-Let the bride's boat go first.
-Please, help yourselves.
-Isn't it typical that my daughter
should have to marry...
into the most fastidious family.
-Well, we can surely see that
it's purchased booze.
-Well, cheers everyone!
Kippis!
-Poor thing, he'll just puke it all back out,
being as green as he is.
-Stig's boy was eight, nine years
when he punted the boat...
100 kilometers against the rapids
from Matarengi to Kengis.
-There are those who think
they are something...
keeping their chin wagging needlessly,
in public.
-Eating food is what you use the mouth for,
in case you haven't figured that out!
-Esko, the twins, when we we're in the hut,
we had to tie them up at night
or else they would have clear-cut
the whole neighbourhood.
-This much rambling hasn't been heard up
here since the Lapua Movement ravaged.
-Grandpa, he carried a
50 kg bag of flour...
an iron stove and his rheumatic old
woman on his back for 40 kilometers.
-50 kilometers!
-Didn't even lay down his burden
when taking a piss-break!
-The Lapps say that if you lie too much,
horns will grow out from your head.
-These are all well-known facts.
If anyone feels inferior...
or envious, I'll be the
first to pity them.
-If you're gonna nibble to pretend being polite,
then you can shove the bread up a different hole!
-Damn wide-mouthed smart-asses
bringing accusations of lies.
Ask anyone in Pajala about uncle Sven, he skinned
and cut up a moose with the lid of his snuffbox.
-With a dull edge!
-Hell! Goddamn it!
-What are you fighting about?
They are a tough family!
Matti here is like a real iron lever...
-What the hell...
Can't you eat properly, damn it!
-It's unbelievable that such a fastidious
family manage to reproduce at all.
-What's the matter with you? Are you sick?
Get out and puke then, goddamn it!
-No human can skin and cut up a
moose with the lid of a snuffbox.
-Haven't you heard what the
family knuckles have accomplished?
These knuckles have driven 5-inch nails...
...into oak!
-Hell! Goddamn!
Enough is enough!
He is tormenting an already suffering
nation with lies and untruth...
There aren't even any
oaks around here!
-Well, I'll tell you...
-Hell!
-Goddamn it! Hell!
-Come on, goddamn it,
and show me what you've got!
-Let me go!
-Do you get horny when
you're drunk? Huh?
I'll kill you if you snitch.
Hell! Goddamn it!
-I'm sorry...
I will not drink any more.
-Go and wash your
mouth, goddamn it!
-With these fingers I have
milked both cows and men.
-One, two? go!
-Is there a man in here?
But I doubt it...
If there is, he can come taste this!
-What is the main task for women?
To shut up!
-You can suck the tits if you don't
have anything better to say!
Come on!
-May I?
-Hey pops, is that snot dripping...
or did the last spunk get stuck
in the gun barrel?
-Or have you caught the foot-and-mouth
disease being with the young cows?
-I've never seen such an
ungrateful generation.
-Ooh, has you phalanx shrunk?
Or has it always been that small?
-Small phalanx and big mistakes...
I should rather have
dipped my dick in tar...
than to have fucked forward
such a bunch of useless knapsu.
You should have gotten a good thrashing
when you were young... Now it's too late.
-This is goddamn better than sex!
-Depends on what you have sex with!
-For sure, smoke-sauna
is the only real sauna!
-What do you mean? You who installed
a bread-toaster of a sauna.
-Eggregate!
-It's called aggregate, goddamn it!
-We call them car heaters in Finland!
-At least they're made in Finland,
in case you didn't know.
-You have become spoiled
knapsu all of you.
There's not a kid who can eat
a little tainted meat these days.
Soon, intercourse will be
replaced by electricity...
then you won't have to exert
yourselves. It's sweaty!
-I have to go and piss.
-Life, boys...
coldness and pain
lies and deceit and rambling.
Then you die...
but I'll remain a Communist all
the way down into my own grave.
I'll start rambling about Jesus
and absolution and all that shit...
it's not just delirium.
They'll put a huge plaster over my mouth...
And over my nose as well.
I told the hunting party too...
"Comrades", I said...
"I'm not afraid of dying."
"But I'll be damned if I'll lie in Pajala
hospital, rambling for open doors."
How the hell can you
be of my seed?
Wimps!
It's a bit cold in here...
-You might think the Swedes forgot
that you must light a fire in a sauna!
-It's a draw!
-We won!
-What are you doing?
-Shit, I thought it was Dad...
...put this one on the wall at home?
Check out this one...
Which one would you like to...?
-My grandma...
She has come back.
-What do you mean?
-It happened two nights ago, when
I was into a very strong dream.
You don't believe me, do you?
Here... I don't want it anymore.
She took revenge on me
'cause I swapped the bible for it.
-Ryssi...
Only Ryssi can help you.
-Is he married?
-So now you come?
Please have a seat.
-It's my grandma...
she has begun to haunt me.
-He knows.
-Wouldn't you like a second cup?
Stay here a little while,
and I'll be back shortly.
-Maybe we should ask if he
has anything for pimples?
-... but they are nice boys.
-There is a way.
Like I said, there is a way.
The hag must be buried.
The hag will disappear
if you cut off her dick.
-Eeh, her dick...?
-Yeah...
Hers?not mine.
Don't be bashful.
Help yourselves, boys.
Well, boys...
You'll stay the night, I hope?
-Eeh, no... I think we'll
have to leave now... His dad...
-My dad...
-But stay, goddamn it! Don't be
afraid boys, I won't hurt you.
Just drink some more...
but just hold a little... feel...
kiss... touch a little
Please...
-Stop, Niila!
-Just calm yourself. There!
-Matti what have you done?
-Nothing.
-Don't you understand mom was worried?
-Come on Grandpa. -No...
-Yeah... Come!
-Isak...
I have raised four boys...
and I have never...
Isak! Isak!
In ninth grade we got
a new music teacher...
... from Sk?ne.
A mono-linguist..
He had a strange sense of humour
but otherwise a decent fellow.
It was just a bit hard to
understand what he said.
-Howdy!
Gee, it's really cold here!
-Hi!
-Same to you...
-All well in the potato patch? Yeah,
I can see that. Two sorts, right?
Yeah, many hours
of sunshine here!
-But tomorrow it will rain.
They said so on the radio.
-Yeah, but then the sun
will be gone all winter
and it will be as dark
as in a grave, won't it?
But that will also be interesting...
Bye-bye! Bye!
-Nice boy...
From Helsingborg, I guess.
-I'm quite sure it was Danish.
-You will have a new music teacher.
His name is Greger.
Do you have another
name besides Greger?
-Greger is enough...
-Greger will teach music
for the rest of the term.
-Here is one who is
no fingers and one thumb.
Can this hand do carpentry?
No, it can't hammer,
do carpentry, saw or fight.
But it can do another thing.
Hell! What kind of crap is this?
-Electrical guitars?
-Yeah, and a bass...
...a Ludwig-set, three amplifiers...
...a PA-system, a mixer,
three mikes with tripods...
...a band-echo and cables of course...
Yeah, that's all.
-We live in Pajala, my friend.
-Yeah, and...?
What the hell is this crap?
-Why should we have
those things here?
-Maybe the kids should start
riding racer cycles to school too?
-That's not a bad idea!
It could be quicker. It could work!
-No, this is getting off track.
Mr. Greger will have to make do with
what the school has to offer.
-It's always been good enough and there's
more in the store room if you need.
-You wanna make a bet?
First to the Kaunisvaara sign?
Me against the school-bus?
Me on the bike.
If I win you'll write an order
for the stuff. How's that?
-But sir, it's the bus...
-Yeah, a Scania -63, 90 horsepower
engine, makes 50 kph uphill...
...4 stops, 30 seconds for each stop...
It might work.
-Well Greger, Jesus walked on water...
-It might work.
-I bet 10 to 1 on the teach.
Who's on?
What's the matter?
Don't you dare?
-10 on the driver!
-5 on the driver!
-3 on the driver!
-They're gonna kill you.
-Aren't there any more who
want to make money?
-Yess! Go, teach!
-Goddamn...
Oh well, nice for him to feel
a bit good about himself.
Wait 'til we hit the stretch.
-Fuck!
-Damn! Step on it!
He's coming!
-This is my stop.
-Like hell it is! Sit down!
-Give me my money!
-We're not there yet.
-Look! Goddamn it, look!
"Road under Repair"
-He's coming!
Damn, he's coming!
-Step on it!
-My mommie will be...
-Shut the fuck up, you rascal
and sit down!
-Look out! The bus!
-What the hell are you doing?!
-The Kaunisvaara sign!
What the hell is all this shit?
Bloody Finns!
-It worked...
-Think you can get current
through the fingers?
-No, I don't think so.
The strings are insulated.
-Excellent!
Excellent, guys!
But you have to start on "one",
the "one" that is never said.
-One, two, three, four, now!
-Come on in, Holgeri.
Stop the music! Come in!
-I'll never be able to play like that.
-Show me your hands.
-Count.
I said count them!
-Six...
-That's right.
How many do you have?
We need a drummer too.
Start practicing now.
-I know a guy who can beat.
-Not bad.
-Erkki, can we try to play
at the same time?
-One, two...
We had never ourselves even come close
to such unrythmic and damned noise.
I was trying to figure out how we could get
rid of Erkki without pissing him off.
-Erkki, Erkki, stop it!
-The hang-over is gone!
This rock music thing is the goddamn
best thing I've ever tried.
Better than boozing... fighting...
even better than wanking, too.
Really! Fucking, I don't know,
'cause I've never tried it,
but I think that cunts are overrated.
-We don't want to hear
that knapsu-music...
-Are you deaf, cunts? Can't you
hear we're busy rehearsing?
Where were we?
In our community, the creativity has
mostly been focused on survival.
So guitar strumming could
only be regarded as knapsu.
But we felt cocky and certain
about our future success.
It sounded awful, but it
came straight from the heart.
It was raw and ruffled,
just like us.
-Erkki, stop it!
You strain your throat too much.
You need to sing from the stomach.
-What do you mean, "from the stomach"?
-You strain your throat.
-I sing whatever
damn way I please.
-Fuck, why don't you sing
if you are so damn good.
OK, let's play.
-Hello! Hi! Welcome!
Today we will finally hear what we
have rehearsed for such a long time.
Help me!
Erkki lost his nerve
and started to slam...
...everything that moved until the
song went in double speed.
Niila's feedback sounded
like coffin nails.
Holgeri took chords from the wrong key...
and by the mike was I.
I didn't sing, I bellowed...
like a moose in rut,
like lemmings dying shrieks...
...come up with something yourself!
-One more time!
One more time!
-That wasn't too bad...
-It was great!
The first song was really great!
-No the second song was much better,
what's it called?
-It's a... Eeh...
-Cover.
-"Cover", yes that's the one.
It was really great!
With the music came also
success among girls...
I tried to teach Niila the simple trick to think
about death when you made a pass.
What does it matter if you're rejected or
they laugh straight in your face...
We'll all die within a few
paltry decades anyway.
This was the only advice Niila took.
He began to think about death
more often than girls.
-You're one of those
Communists, aren't you?
Is it fun?
I have a friend who has rabbits
in their boiler room.
We can check the keep-fit
exercises for housewives if you want.
-Let's go girls!
One! Two Three Four!
...and rest, two, three!
Sturdy moves!
... and to the side!
One and two...
-It's not dangerous...
You're too slow...
-Keep quiet!
They'll hear us!
-Hi...
Will I see you again?
-What's it now?
-Get it together, damn it! We're playing
in a week and all you care about are those.
-Are you some kind of boss
all of a sudden?
-We're actually playing in 3-4-time,
if you know what it is.
-Cut it out!
You're not any better than us.
-I didn't say that.
-No, but that's what you mean.
Tell it like it is instead.
You're just jealous.
You can't take that
the girls like me.
-You're out of your mind.
-No, you are.
You and your dad who beats us
all the time are out of your minds.
Come on, let's play.
-He's lying.
-Am I?
Pull down your pants and show
your butt and we'll see who's lying.
-OK... Bye...
We got the gig.
Calm down guys! You need
more stage experience.
Practice makes perfect. You need
public appearances. -But what?
-Fucking Whatever, weddings,
baptisms, funerals, whatever...
You need challenges so you
dare more when it matters.
-Some thing, huh?
-Why did you say it?
-Said what?
-That my dad beats me.
-Shovel! Do it before midday thaw!
Or else things won't be very fun...
Not very fun at all...
That's what becomes of man
if original sin isn't disciplined.
No one with my blood in him
will play the music of Satan.
-You want me to stop playing?
Strike the blow then.
-Hell!
-Do you give in?
-Like hell I do.
-Do you give in?
If you touch us one more time,
we will kill you.
We will kill you.
-Some day I'll be out of here.
-Of course they'll come.
A hunting party without the old man?
-Maybe that's just as well...
now that you're 70 and
have turned long-sighted.
-You're full of shit!
-Yes.
-The hunting party!
They're here!
-Hi!
Well, I just wanted to say, that
you can still carry the gun...
and you can manage
the rain and the cold...
but damn it if you start to ramble,
then you'll have to stay at home...
and we'll handle the meat.
But so far, you're in.
Yes, so now we'd like to give you a cup
and a bottle with contents.
Well? Give it to him then...
-Thanks.
A good thing we got drinks, because I'm
all out. So this is all you'll get.
I have reached 70.
But my vision is sharp as an eagle's.
I can still hear an cow moose
fart a hundred yards away...
and considering all brain-cells that you all
have drunk away over the years...
then I am hardly the first
one to start rambling. Cheers.
-Here you are, boys!
And here you have music, so your
eardrums will do the polka!
-Stop!
Look...
Finished.
-That's unfortunate!
-Who moonshines?
-Ove does.
-He's in Kiruna.
The gas station is open.
-Gonna buy beer?
-No, meth.
You mix in flour and
filter it trough a loaf.
-Stage experience?
This was happiness: to blissfully
drink and get plastered...
and to drink yourself blind and
deaf in the company of friends...
without nagging comments...
there were no limits any more...
once you were downhill, all you
could do was to hit the gas...
a real man fears neither death
nor a 3-day hang-over.
-Grandpa?
Grandpa?
Grandpa! Are you dead?
-I don't know.
-Go and find a job.
-Work...? Me...?
Do you want to kill me?
Is this the thanks I get?
-Go and find a job.
-Should I disgrace myself?
-Who wants an uneducated hag?
-Home-help service, school diner,
long-term care...
Food costs money.
Go and find a job.
Finally: D-Day
Our fist real gig in Kaunisvaara.
Selections for Lule?'s
amateur music festival...
and a full 50 crowns in fees.
-Alright lads, there's a lot at stake. Bear in
mind it's the amateur festival in Lule?...
...get all the luggage...
...if you concentrate, it will be ever so good...
...I promise...
...listen to what I'm saying...
-Howdy...
-All help out and
carry this stuff inside...
-Wait a minute...
-What the hell, Matti?
-What do you want me to do?
Grandpa is dying.
-Who is she, then?
-She's... a cousin.
You'll manage without me.
-Come on lads! The world
does not depend on one.
-You told me this place would be packed!
That there would be more than 300.
-There's no compulsory enlistment. We put
an ad in the paper. That?s all we can do.
-No comp, no singer...
How the hell's that gonna sound?
-Let's cancel.
-Let's go.
-You're great, Niila!
Huh? You can go as far as you like.
As far as you like.
-How the hell do you do it?
-Rock 'n' Roll without a singer
just doesn't work.
No Jazz band, he says.
Lule? is off.
You were good.
Get in the car.
-One should just go away
somewhere. Just move off.
-America ain't too bad...
-Before I die, I intend
to climb the Himalayas.
Imagine standing up there...
I'm damned well going to do it!
-Stockholm ain't too bad. I have a cousin
who moved and got a job in S?dert?lje.
-S?dert?lje ain't Stockholm, but at least
it's in Sweden. That's more than Pajala is.
-Of course Pajala is in Sweden!
-What Sweden?
From Lule? and down south? Where they
have castles, counts and money...?
...where they call us Lapp-bastards?
-Stop it.
-What you mean stop? Didn't you say that
Pajala is not part of Sweden? Didn't you?
Didn't you say: "We have to get out
of here fast as hell before we rot"?
You were just talking, Matti...
-Where are you going?
-To where we were going together...
-Have a good time, Matti.
-Well, he's out of his mind.
-He'll surely be back.
-He has nothing to come back to.
And this is where the story ends...
the first life we lived,
childhood, boyhood...
I wonder what became
of them all...
people I once shared
my life with...
people I knew.
-What the fuck are you doing?
Get up, you bloody knapsu!
"-How did se do it?"
"-Put out your tongue."
"No, not that much."
"Niila conquers the world"
"Niila No.1 on the USA Billboard-list."
unmanly, silly, feminine
-Bye-bye, Niila.
It is in that moment
memory opens up-
like a pipe, a dizzying shaft...
straight down to my childhood.
It was the mid 60's, Sweden was
flourishing, the economy booming-
Even Tornedalen was pulled
into the rush of success.
Thanks to the boom, people made
their way up, got villa loans.
Progress came so fast, people still
felt poor, despite being rich.
Now and then came the fear that
all would be taken away
Our area was called Vittulaj?nk?,
Pussy-bog.
Like some homage to female fertility,
since so many kids were born there.
-Here comes asphalt, smooth and nice
like a baby-butt, to make a fine road.
-What's that, Daddy?
-Speak Swedish!
-Asphalt
-What is asphalt?
-Asphalt...
-Asphalt you see, that's the future-
we're gonna dress poverty
in black skin.
-Go inside!
-I said, go inside!
Asphalt, an unneeded luxury
All was a sign of our wealth, a promise
of a future in lavishness and wealth.
-D'you know, if you keep biking on that
road. Know where you'll end up?
-You'll get to China,
'cause my Dad said so.
-My name is Matti.
What's yours?
-What's your name?
I understood that he
wanted to be my friend.
He had something that I lacked-
an energy that ran like a caged animal
looking for a way out.
Something warm and vulnerable.
An inner fire.
-Prick, butt.
-Prick, butt.
Say it!
-Poo!
-Come on and say it!
Like most Laestadians, Isak
worked a lot and demanded little.
He placed himself in God's place.
It was the worst form of it, the
Laestadianism without God.
-Is he also from England?
-'Course he does, what did you think?
-At least I know where I'm going.
You can come visit me in Liverpool,
see some of the big world.
Sis' did her best to keep up-
but it was far between Pajala
and the world.
-What are you doing?
Are you trying to kill me?
-Stop moving, then.
-I'm not dancing on the table, am I?
-Well, there's nothing wrong
with your rifle.
-How long do you think the hunting
party will let you stay in?
-You good-for-nothing,
I've shot 30 16-tiners in my days.
-I'm the only one in the party
who can hit a moose.
-At a 300 meters distance.
In the dark.
-Solveig, what have I done for God
to punish me with such children?
-Since when do you believe in God?
-Since you came in through the door.
-I'd rather had daughters, who could
care for me when I get old.
-Well, that's not too late...
-No, it's not too late.
-If I find me a young
and pretty Russian...
-What would a young and
pretty Russian need you for?
-Don't talk bullshit! Find a young
girlie for yourself instead.
-How long are you going to
hang around, leading a bachelor life?
-Ville? Never thought of using
plastic flowers instead?
-Huh? -So you won't have to
buy new ones every time!
-Marry a Finnish or a Lappish girl
or anything. Just get married.
Your bachelor life turns you into
a recluse or a suicide.
-When I was at your age, I had four
children. -Yeah, that you knew of...
-Welcome to this week's
language course in Esperanto.
-I speak Esperanto.
-I speak Esperanto.
-I speak Esperanto.
-How are you?
-How are you?
-I am fine.
-I am fine.
-Look at you all plastered with make-up!
-I'm moving to London, Piccadilly Circus.
-Are you moving to a circus?
-You wouldn't dare, you cheeky brats!
If you'd ever put one foot in my room,
I'd kick your milk teeth into your brains
so you'd get an early disability
retirement.
-Beat it!
Uncle Ville had always been a bachelor-
many times had he been
to Finland to propose
but he was never lucky.
-How they bite this year.
-Just let them bite, Ryssi.
-They're the only female thing
willing to bite us.
-Been to Finland?
-Yup...
-No luck this time either?
-Nope...
Ryssi-Jussi, the last real
pedlar in these parts.
One of the countryside's
most feared personality.
One to be avoided.
If you could.
-This will do the trick, Ville.
-It makes the baggiest old man feel
strong as an ox and horny as a dog.
-And what the fuck do I need that for.
-If you're not to stingy for a 10:er
I'll let you in on the secret.
-Buy a car.
An American car.
Finnish women are
crazy about cars.
The bigger,
the better.
-Rolf and Jorma,
sit up straight!
-My name is Jarmo,
you bloody cunt!
-20 km from here is Finland.
Finnish is spoken there.
This is Sweden. Here we speak
Swedish. At least in school.
Understood?
Is there anyone who knows
where Stockholm's five...
-Mathias?
-Jarmo threw an eraser at me.
-Now, knock it off, Jarmo
or you'll have to leave.
-"Knock it off..."
-Stockholm has...
Later, we understood that our
home region really didn't-
belong to Sweden.
We had gotten there by chance.
A northern appendix,
where people happened to live
who only partly
managed to be Swedes.
There was only one way out.
In Stockholm, one would
finally become a human being.
-Miss, the map is wrong.
-The map of Sweden?
-Yes, Sk?ne fits in
between Haparanda and...
-Firstly, we raise our hand when
we have something to say.
-Secondly, size does not matter.
-Anything else?
Sit down, Niila!
-"Miss, Jarmo threw an
eraser on me."
-Say, you're sorry!
-Sorry...
-Did you hear anything?
-Nah... -Me neither.
-Let him go. Hit me instead.
-We will, later.
The school janitor, he hated kids.
He always appeared from nowhere,
and leaped like a tiger-
to descended on his prey.
He pinched his fist like
pincers around the neck
and lifted until the head was
severed from the body.
One Sunday, something rare
happened in Pajala.
That is, the church was filled
up to the last seat.
The thing was that the Pajala people
were going to
see their first Negro in person.
-We're not this
fucking many in Pajala?
"Lovely is the earth,"
"glorious is the heaven of God..."
-He is fully live, goddamn it.
-My God he has no hair.
It's like steel wool.
-Entirely black! I thought he'd be
more like... brownish.
-He's actually almost blue.
-Dearly congregated, we welcome
Reverend Kampune-
from the crisis-hit Congo
down there.
Today's collection will,
in full, go to our-
suffering brothers and
sisters down there.
-Sister Felicia is only
here to translate.
-"I thank the Lord.
Thank the Lord."
-Malaria...
-She has malaria...
-Is anybody here who
speak English? English?
-Is there anybody
who speaks French?
-Anyone who speaks Arabic?
-How in the Lord's name do you
expect me to preach then?
-In Esperanto?
-I speak Esperanto.
-You speak Esperanto? Finally someone
who can speak in this congregation!
-Dearly congregated, today we
are gathered here to...
-Are you the village fool or are you
trying to make a fool out of me?
-I am fine. How are you?
-Brothers and sisters,
learn from this boy!
-Speak! Dare to talk yourselves
out of the darkness!
-Our Lord, who hears our prayers-
today has sent us a boy.
We thank you Lord,
we thank You.
-To believe in Jesus Christ is like
walking an ascent that never ends.
-Like a clock, you just have to
go go go,
but never to arrive.
-Take care of it.
-I am sorry, mother.
-For he who has not
confessed his sins...
...there is no forgiveness,
not from me, nor God.
-You who boozed your ministry away
and disgraced us for all future!
-Burn in hell, sinners!
-Come here, my boy.
-Not you, you whoremonger!
-You, Niila. Come...
-In the name and blood of Jesus Christ,
you are called upon. Take it.
This one, it is yours.
It is your guide.
-This is what you wanted, eh?
-You rascal!
Grandma had replenished the earth
as much as she could manage.
Her children were spread
all over the world...
in Kiruna, Lule? and Rovaniemi
Others in suburbs around Stockholm,
one in Missouri and in New Zealand.
-12 children she bore, the same
number as the apostles...
and like these you entered into
the world in all directions.
-But now, here you sit and sneer.
-But beware... Beware of
the wrath of the Lord!
-Because the forefinger of the Lord will sting
you in the heart like an iron-bar lever.
-Beware of the devil?s
red-hot frying pan
because there you will be fried
'til the meat juice flows!
Finally Grandma was with Jesus,
and we could all breathe freely.
Or so we thought.
-They come from the
graveyard. Angels.
-When the snow melts, the water
runs through the coffins,
and the souls of the stiffs
are washed away to here.
-Wooo! Grandma! Wooo!
-Stop! Stop! Wait! It's a present...
to our cousin.
-"Rosken roll musis..."
-Rock'n'roll music.
-Kiitos, tack, thank you.
-Grandma's bible.
-What does Rock'n'roll mean?
-Rock'n'roll music!
-They're from Liverpool, huh?
-They're not from bloody Pajala, are they?
-First thing when I'm 18, I'll be
moving out from this damn hole.
Cheeky brats, out! Beat it!
-But it is actually Niila's record.
-Let them taste,
so they'll shut up.
-I'll tear your heads off, and piss down
your throats if you snitch, just so you know!
-What are you doing?
-Nothing.
-Can I try?
-Hmm, you have to shake
your legs too. -Why?
-'Cause it makes the girls scream.
-In that case,
you'll have to sing.
-Hell, no...
-Yup.
-But I can't...
-Do it for the girls...
-I love you, baby!
-I love you too!
-How did se do it?
-Put out your tongue
No, not that much.
-Today, during "Funny-hour",
Niila will... Shhh! It is...
-Was it because of "Funny-hour"?
-We'll say you fell with your bike.
-Come, come, come... Don't be
afraid, I will not hurt you.
I just want to show
you a nice little rat...
-Knapsu-pigs from Vittulaj?nk?!
Let's get them!
-To hell with the Knapsu!
Get Niila instead!
-I'll get you, you little bastard!
-Damn rascal!
-Bloody bastard! I'm gonna let you
taste one thing and the other...
-Help me! Mommy, help...
Help me!
-Help me!
-Help me!
"The taste of a boy's kiss"
-Thanks...
-Damn, why can't there
be a real summer here.
-Anyway, Maggan is moving
to Lule? this fall.
-Are you moving too?
-Yeah, I have to if I get in to the University...
-But you'll come visit, right?
-Yeah, relax...
I'm not leaving tomorrow.
-One, two... One, two...
That's easy.
-I can't do anymore...
-You dare not even dream in Pajala, damn it!
-We can't stay here and rot in this
god-damned hole, Niila.
-Look... Only swamps and
a hell of a lot of mosquitoes.
-No restaurants or caf?s, and no celebrities.
We don't even have traffic-lights, god-damn!
-We're worse than the Sami. At least
they have their own language.
-We.. We speak with Swedish accent without being
Swedes and with a Finnish without being Fins.
-One thing I have learnt...
-Pajala does not belong to Sweden.
-One fine day, we'll move out of here.
-When?
-When what?
-When do we move?
-After high school, or something like that.
There's only two years left...
then we can go anywhere we want.
London... New York... Paris...
-China, Matti...
-What?
-We have to go to China and see the Himalayas.
-Wherever we want.
-Damn, how I long to be a grown-up.
-And I long for to fuck.
-It's old, but it is
smooth and nice.
-Eh Ryssi... A string is missing.
-Is it?
-I'll have that fixed by next week.
-Do you have three crowns? -Never mind,
I'm not greedy. We can settle that later.
-But, don't you want any lessons...
-Eh, for free...
-You know where I live...
-No, daddy... No...
-Go out and chop some wood.
-Is this enough , daddy?
-You should have been a girl...
-This is what becomes of man when
original sin isn't punished.
Somewhere inside of me, a switch was
turned off. Something happened inside.
Something took up room inside. One that
resembled me, but still were someone else.
-Matti, could you help me...?
-What are you doing?
-Reading...
-Stay there, dad wants to talk to you.
-Don't be lengthy, they'll be here soon.
-Yeah, yeah...
-Well, I'll be damned if this isn't more
exciting than TV with sound and all...
-Look at your feet.
I told you, look at your feet!
-Can you see? They're growing...
growing like mad.
-It's puberty, you see...
-Soon enough, Satan will
grow inside your belly and...
-... within a couple of years,
you will be a full-grown workman.
-After me, you'll be the one
to carry on the torch.
-Hell knows how that's gonna work...
-Well, anyhow, you have
probably been thinking about...
-...well, what do I know...
-...life...and...people...
and...things like that...
-This must stay between you and me,
between men.
-First of all...
my father...your grandpa, he was a...
horse-pisser in his youth, so...
I have two half-siblings...
they're about my age,
with children of their own...
they live somewhere around Pajala.
So you have five first-cousins
that you don't know of...
Three are girls, and you need to know
who they are, to avoid inbreeding...
...they are Susanna Kyr?,
Liselott Rautio and Monika Furvall.
-Lise...? Liselott in the parallel class?
-Yup...
-Secondly, and...well,
it's even more devilish...
...there are two families in this town
that have done us a lot of harm...
...and you must hate them for all time.
They are Salonen and the Niemis.
It originates from a
perjury trial 1929...
and it must be revenged with all
means as soon as you get a chance...
until those bastards have
confessed on their bare knees...
But soon, when you have a decent
employment in the municipality...
we can arrange a hell of a lot of devilry,
that will show those bastards.
Thirdly, and that's the worst of all,
we can't carry our liquor well, so if...
Well, try boozing at home first to make
sure you don't feel like fighting.
And fourth, and this is probably
the most devilish...
mental disease runs in the family...
and it can easily be
triggered by falling in love...
so stay away from troublesome
women with fear of sex...
If you come across one who doesn't
want to surrender her hole, just swap.
Do as I did. Find a fat-assed
one who can bear kids.
Oh, one last thing... The writing...
It's not your thing...
you need a job with manual work,
so you don't have to ponder on...
religion and God and the meaning of life
and all that bloody shit.
-Ville, they're here now!
-Oh, for fuck's sake...
-The current is strong further down, boys!
Row up the river!
-Goddamn, they're making
a splash out of this!
Matti, run over to uncle Einari
and tell him they're here now.
Them bastards will be put
in their place right away!
-Can't you park your car behind the corner?
I feel ashamed! -Yes, yes...
-Let the bride's boat go first.
-Please, help yourselves.
-Isn't it typical that my daughter
should have to marry...
into the most fastidious family.
-Well, we can surely see that
it's purchased booze.
-Well, cheers everyone!
Kippis!
-Poor thing, he'll just puke it all back out,
being as green as he is.
-Stig's boy was eight, nine years
when he punted the boat...
100 kilometers against the rapids
from Matarengi to Kengis.
-There are those who think
they are something...
keeping their chin wagging needlessly,
in public.
-Eating food is what you use the mouth for,
in case you haven't figured that out!
-Esko, the twins, when we we're in the hut,
we had to tie them up at night
or else they would have clear-cut
the whole neighbourhood.
-This much rambling hasn't been heard up
here since the Lapua Movement ravaged.
-Grandpa, he carried a
50 kg bag of flour...
an iron stove and his rheumatic old
woman on his back for 40 kilometers.
-50 kilometers!
-Didn't even lay down his burden
when taking a piss-break!
-The Lapps say that if you lie too much,
horns will grow out from your head.
-These are all well-known facts.
If anyone feels inferior...
or envious, I'll be the
first to pity them.
-If you're gonna nibble to pretend being polite,
then you can shove the bread up a different hole!
-Damn wide-mouthed smart-asses
bringing accusations of lies.
Ask anyone in Pajala about uncle Sven, he skinned
and cut up a moose with the lid of his snuffbox.
-With a dull edge!
-Hell! Goddamn it!
-What are you fighting about?
They are a tough family!
Matti here is like a real iron lever...
-What the hell...
Can't you eat properly, damn it!
-It's unbelievable that such a fastidious
family manage to reproduce at all.
-What's the matter with you? Are you sick?
Get out and puke then, goddamn it!
-No human can skin and cut up a
moose with the lid of a snuffbox.
-Haven't you heard what the
family knuckles have accomplished?
These knuckles have driven 5-inch nails...
...into oak!
-Hell! Goddamn!
Enough is enough!
He is tormenting an already suffering
nation with lies and untruth...
There aren't even any
oaks around here!
-Well, I'll tell you...
-Hell!
-Goddamn it! Hell!
-Come on, goddamn it,
and show me what you've got!
-Let me go!
-Do you get horny when
you're drunk? Huh?
I'll kill you if you snitch.
Hell! Goddamn it!
-I'm sorry...
I will not drink any more.
-Go and wash your
mouth, goddamn it!
-With these fingers I have
milked both cows and men.
-One, two? go!
-Is there a man in here?
But I doubt it...
If there is, he can come taste this!
-What is the main task for women?
To shut up!
-You can suck the tits if you don't
have anything better to say!
Come on!
-May I?
-Hey pops, is that snot dripping...
or did the last spunk get stuck
in the gun barrel?
-Or have you caught the foot-and-mouth
disease being with the young cows?
-I've never seen such an
ungrateful generation.
-Ooh, has you phalanx shrunk?
Or has it always been that small?
-Small phalanx and big mistakes...
I should rather have
dipped my dick in tar...
than to have fucked forward
such a bunch of useless knapsu.
You should have gotten a good thrashing
when you were young... Now it's too late.
-This is goddamn better than sex!
-Depends on what you have sex with!
-For sure, smoke-sauna
is the only real sauna!
-What do you mean? You who installed
a bread-toaster of a sauna.
-Eggregate!
-It's called aggregate, goddamn it!
-We call them car heaters in Finland!
-At least they're made in Finland,
in case you didn't know.
-You have become spoiled
knapsu all of you.
There's not a kid who can eat
a little tainted meat these days.
Soon, intercourse will be
replaced by electricity...
then you won't have to exert
yourselves. It's sweaty!
-I have to go and piss.
-Life, boys...
coldness and pain
lies and deceit and rambling.
Then you die...
but I'll remain a Communist all
the way down into my own grave.
I'll start rambling about Jesus
and absolution and all that shit...
it's not just delirium.
They'll put a huge plaster over my mouth...
And over my nose as well.
I told the hunting party too...
"Comrades", I said...
"I'm not afraid of dying."
"But I'll be damned if I'll lie in Pajala
hospital, rambling for open doors."
How the hell can you
be of my seed?
Wimps!
It's a bit cold in here...
-You might think the Swedes forgot
that you must light a fire in a sauna!
-It's a draw!
-We won!
-What are you doing?
-Shit, I thought it was Dad...
...put this one on the wall at home?
Check out this one...
Which one would you like to...?
-My grandma...
She has come back.
-What do you mean?
-It happened two nights ago, when
I was into a very strong dream.
You don't believe me, do you?
Here... I don't want it anymore.
She took revenge on me
'cause I swapped the bible for it.
-Ryssi...
Only Ryssi can help you.
-Is he married?
-So now you come?
Please have a seat.
-It's my grandma...
she has begun to haunt me.
-He knows.
-Wouldn't you like a second cup?
Stay here a little while,
and I'll be back shortly.
-Maybe we should ask if he
has anything for pimples?
-... but they are nice boys.
-There is a way.
Like I said, there is a way.
The hag must be buried.
The hag will disappear
if you cut off her dick.
-Eeh, her dick...?
-Yeah...
Hers?not mine.
Don't be bashful.
Help yourselves, boys.
Well, boys...
You'll stay the night, I hope?
-Eeh, no... I think we'll
have to leave now... His dad...
-My dad...
-But stay, goddamn it! Don't be
afraid boys, I won't hurt you.
Just drink some more...
but just hold a little... feel...
kiss... touch a little
Please...
-Stop, Niila!
-Just calm yourself. There!
-Matti what have you done?
-Nothing.
-Don't you understand mom was worried?
-Come on Grandpa. -No...
-Yeah... Come!
-Isak...
I have raised four boys...
and I have never...
Isak! Isak!
In ninth grade we got
a new music teacher...
... from Sk?ne.
A mono-linguist..
He had a strange sense of humour
but otherwise a decent fellow.
It was just a bit hard to
understand what he said.
-Howdy!
Gee, it's really cold here!
-Hi!
-Same to you...
-All well in the potato patch? Yeah,
I can see that. Two sorts, right?
Yeah, many hours
of sunshine here!
-But tomorrow it will rain.
They said so on the radio.
-Yeah, but then the sun
will be gone all winter
and it will be as dark
as in a grave, won't it?
But that will also be interesting...
Bye-bye! Bye!
-Nice boy...
From Helsingborg, I guess.
-I'm quite sure it was Danish.
-You will have a new music teacher.
His name is Greger.
Do you have another
name besides Greger?
-Greger is enough...
-Greger will teach music
for the rest of the term.
-Here is one who is
no fingers and one thumb.
Can this hand do carpentry?
No, it can't hammer,
do carpentry, saw or fight.
But it can do another thing.
Hell! What kind of crap is this?
-Electrical guitars?
-Yeah, and a bass...
...a Ludwig-set, three amplifiers...
...a PA-system, a mixer,
three mikes with tripods...
...a band-echo and cables of course...
Yeah, that's all.
-We live in Pajala, my friend.
-Yeah, and...?
What the hell is this crap?
-Why should we have
those things here?
-Maybe the kids should start
riding racer cycles to school too?
-That's not a bad idea!
It could be quicker. It could work!
-No, this is getting off track.
Mr. Greger will have to make do with
what the school has to offer.
-It's always been good enough and there's
more in the store room if you need.
-You wanna make a bet?
First to the Kaunisvaara sign?
Me against the school-bus?
Me on the bike.
If I win you'll write an order
for the stuff. How's that?
-But sir, it's the bus...
-Yeah, a Scania -63, 90 horsepower
engine, makes 50 kph uphill...
...4 stops, 30 seconds for each stop...
It might work.
-Well Greger, Jesus walked on water...
-It might work.
-I bet 10 to 1 on the teach.
Who's on?
What's the matter?
Don't you dare?
-10 on the driver!
-5 on the driver!
-3 on the driver!
-They're gonna kill you.
-Aren't there any more who
want to make money?
-Yess! Go, teach!
-Goddamn...
Oh well, nice for him to feel
a bit good about himself.
Wait 'til we hit the stretch.
-Fuck!
-Damn! Step on it!
He's coming!
-This is my stop.
-Like hell it is! Sit down!
-Give me my money!
-We're not there yet.
-Look! Goddamn it, look!
"Road under Repair"
-He's coming!
Damn, he's coming!
-Step on it!
-My mommie will be...
-Shut the fuck up, you rascal
and sit down!
-Look out! The bus!
-What the hell are you doing?!
-The Kaunisvaara sign!
What the hell is all this shit?
Bloody Finns!
-It worked...
-Think you can get current
through the fingers?
-No, I don't think so.
The strings are insulated.
-Excellent!
Excellent, guys!
But you have to start on "one",
the "one" that is never said.
-One, two, three, four, now!
-Come on in, Holgeri.
Stop the music! Come in!
-I'll never be able to play like that.
-Show me your hands.
-Count.
I said count them!
-Six...
-That's right.
How many do you have?
We need a drummer too.
Start practicing now.
-I know a guy who can beat.
-Not bad.
-Erkki, can we try to play
at the same time?
-One, two...
We had never ourselves even come close
to such unrythmic and damned noise.
I was trying to figure out how we could get
rid of Erkki without pissing him off.
-Erkki, Erkki, stop it!
-The hang-over is gone!
This rock music thing is the goddamn
best thing I've ever tried.
Better than boozing... fighting...
even better than wanking, too.
Really! Fucking, I don't know,
'cause I've never tried it,
but I think that cunts are overrated.
-We don't want to hear
that knapsu-music...
-Are you deaf, cunts? Can't you
hear we're busy rehearsing?
Where were we?
In our community, the creativity has
mostly been focused on survival.
So guitar strumming could
only be regarded as knapsu.
But we felt cocky and certain
about our future success.
It sounded awful, but it
came straight from the heart.
It was raw and ruffled,
just like us.
-Erkki, stop it!
You strain your throat too much.
You need to sing from the stomach.
-What do you mean, "from the stomach"?
-You strain your throat.
-I sing whatever
damn way I please.
-Fuck, why don't you sing
if you are so damn good.
OK, let's play.
-Hello! Hi! Welcome!
Today we will finally hear what we
have rehearsed for such a long time.
Help me!
Erkki lost his nerve
and started to slam...
...everything that moved until the
song went in double speed.
Niila's feedback sounded
like coffin nails.
Holgeri took chords from the wrong key...
and by the mike was I.
I didn't sing, I bellowed...
like a moose in rut,
like lemmings dying shrieks...
...come up with something yourself!
-One more time!
One more time!
-That wasn't too bad...
-It was great!
The first song was really great!
-No the second song was much better,
what's it called?
-It's a... Eeh...
-Cover.
-"Cover", yes that's the one.
It was really great!
With the music came also
success among girls...
I tried to teach Niila the simple trick to think
about death when you made a pass.
What does it matter if you're rejected or
they laugh straight in your face...
We'll all die within a few
paltry decades anyway.
This was the only advice Niila took.
He began to think about death
more often than girls.
-You're one of those
Communists, aren't you?
Is it fun?
I have a friend who has rabbits
in their boiler room.
We can check the keep-fit
exercises for housewives if you want.
-Let's go girls!
One! Two Three Four!
...and rest, two, three!
Sturdy moves!
... and to the side!
One and two...
-It's not dangerous...
You're too slow...
-Keep quiet!
They'll hear us!
-Hi...
Will I see you again?
-What's it now?
-Get it together, damn it! We're playing
in a week and all you care about are those.
-Are you some kind of boss
all of a sudden?
-We're actually playing in 3-4-time,
if you know what it is.
-Cut it out!
You're not any better than us.
-I didn't say that.
-No, but that's what you mean.
Tell it like it is instead.
You're just jealous.
You can't take that
the girls like me.
-You're out of your mind.
-No, you are.
You and your dad who beats us
all the time are out of your minds.
Come on, let's play.
-He's lying.
-Am I?
Pull down your pants and show
your butt and we'll see who's lying.
-OK... Bye...
We got the gig.
Calm down guys! You need
more stage experience.
Practice makes perfect. You need
public appearances. -But what?
-Fucking Whatever, weddings,
baptisms, funerals, whatever...
You need challenges so you
dare more when it matters.
-Some thing, huh?
-Why did you say it?
-Said what?
-That my dad beats me.
-Shovel! Do it before midday thaw!
Or else things won't be very fun...
Not very fun at all...
That's what becomes of man
if original sin isn't disciplined.
No one with my blood in him
will play the music of Satan.
-You want me to stop playing?
Strike the blow then.
-Hell!
-Do you give in?
-Like hell I do.
-Do you give in?
If you touch us one more time,
we will kill you.
We will kill you.
-Some day I'll be out of here.
-Of course they'll come.
A hunting party without the old man?
-Maybe that's just as well...
now that you're 70 and
have turned long-sighted.
-You're full of shit!
-Yes.
-The hunting party!
They're here!
-Hi!
Well, I just wanted to say, that
you can still carry the gun...
and you can manage
the rain and the cold...
but damn it if you start to ramble,
then you'll have to stay at home...
and we'll handle the meat.
But so far, you're in.
Yes, so now we'd like to give you a cup
and a bottle with contents.
Well? Give it to him then...
-Thanks.
A good thing we got drinks, because I'm
all out. So this is all you'll get.
I have reached 70.
But my vision is sharp as an eagle's.
I can still hear an cow moose
fart a hundred yards away...
and considering all brain-cells that you all
have drunk away over the years...
then I am hardly the first
one to start rambling. Cheers.
-Here you are, boys!
And here you have music, so your
eardrums will do the polka!
-Stop!
Look...
Finished.
-That's unfortunate!
-Who moonshines?
-Ove does.
-He's in Kiruna.
The gas station is open.
-Gonna buy beer?
-No, meth.
You mix in flour and
filter it trough a loaf.
-Stage experience?
This was happiness: to blissfully
drink and get plastered...
and to drink yourself blind and
deaf in the company of friends...
without nagging comments...
there were no limits any more...
once you were downhill, all you
could do was to hit the gas...
a real man fears neither death
nor a 3-day hang-over.
-Grandpa?
Grandpa?
Grandpa! Are you dead?
-I don't know.
-Go and find a job.
-Work...? Me...?
Do you want to kill me?
Is this the thanks I get?
-Go and find a job.
-Should I disgrace myself?
-Who wants an uneducated hag?
-Home-help service, school diner,
long-term care...
Food costs money.
Go and find a job.
Finally: D-Day
Our fist real gig in Kaunisvaara.
Selections for Lule?'s
amateur music festival...
and a full 50 crowns in fees.
-Alright lads, there's a lot at stake. Bear in
mind it's the amateur festival in Lule?...
...get all the luggage...
...if you concentrate, it will be ever so good...
...I promise...
...listen to what I'm saying...
-Howdy...
-All help out and
carry this stuff inside...
-Wait a minute...
-What the hell, Matti?
-What do you want me to do?
Grandpa is dying.
-Who is she, then?
-She's... a cousin.
You'll manage without me.
-Come on lads! The world
does not depend on one.
-You told me this place would be packed!
That there would be more than 300.
-There's no compulsory enlistment. We put
an ad in the paper. That?s all we can do.
-No comp, no singer...
How the hell's that gonna sound?
-Let's cancel.
-Let's go.
-You're great, Niila!
Huh? You can go as far as you like.
As far as you like.
-How the hell do you do it?
-Rock 'n' Roll without a singer
just doesn't work.
No Jazz band, he says.
Lule? is off.
You were good.
Get in the car.
-One should just go away
somewhere. Just move off.
-America ain't too bad...
-Before I die, I intend
to climb the Himalayas.
Imagine standing up there...
I'm damned well going to do it!
-Stockholm ain't too bad. I have a cousin
who moved and got a job in S?dert?lje.
-S?dert?lje ain't Stockholm, but at least
it's in Sweden. That's more than Pajala is.
-Of course Pajala is in Sweden!
-What Sweden?
From Lule? and down south? Where they
have castles, counts and money...?
...where they call us Lapp-bastards?
-Stop it.
-What you mean stop? Didn't you say that
Pajala is not part of Sweden? Didn't you?
Didn't you say: "We have to get out
of here fast as hell before we rot"?
You were just talking, Matti...
-Where are you going?
-To where we were going together...
-Have a good time, Matti.
-Well, he's out of his mind.
-He'll surely be back.
-He has nothing to come back to.
And this is where the story ends...
the first life we lived,
childhood, boyhood...
I wonder what became
of them all...
people I once shared
my life with...
people I knew.
-What the fuck are you doing?
Get up, you bloody knapsu!
"-How did se do it?"
"-Put out your tongue."
"No, not that much."
"Niila conquers the world"
"Niila No.1 on the USA Billboard-list."