Jack (1977) - full transcript

Old Town.

"Fly away, aging sun."

Damn fool!

Hello.

Hi.

Funny cheese.

What do you mean?
What's wrong with the cheese?

Nothing wrong.

It'd funny.

"Funny" be damned!
Funny cheese?!

I know what you mean.
You stupid twisted bastard!



You're talking about HIM!

I don't give a shit
if you like my boys!

I don't give a shit
if you don't approve.

But one thing you need
to really understand.

None of the guys I trust likes you!

You're just a warped arsehole, with your
centrefold tarts and your poems!

You haven't grasped anything!

Haven't I?

Not one fucking iota!

- Know what you're gonna do, Jack?
- No... what's that?

You're gonna get right
out of my life!

Right now?

Right now.

Let me go!



Drop the knife!

- Hi!
- Hi!

Hi!

Fuck it!

Did it break?

What's it look like?!

What's to become of you?

What the hell's
to become of you?

You know very well.

Writer!

But Jack, dear, you must realise
you can't make a living doing that?

Will you become a new Strindberg?

Go to Paris, fall ill and die
of stomach cancer?

No, Jack.
We've given this a lot of thought.

It's time you pulled yourself together
and thought about the future.

- Howdy!
- What the hell...?

Hello boyo!
Here's a mat to keep your feet warm.

Great to see you!

This is terrific here.
You've done well.

Studio apartment
with fireplace and view.

Like a beer?

You're going all bourgeois, Jack.

In the middle of town, too.
Only 70 kronor a month.

And you're no longer
a wage slave...

That's fucking great!

It'd feel like an arrow
whizzing up into the heavens.

That's it... a whizzing arrow.

Even like a spear.

- A whizzing spear.
- It should be like a SCREAMING spear!

Try this...

Lebanese hash.

It's mind-blowing to smoke it.

- A screamer.
- It's brilliant.

To good times!

- How's your painting going?
- Really well.

Working on some big stuff...
Big stuff.

Pastels...
Damn good.

Are you selling anything?

Well...

One after another...

Would you like to do
a bit of work?

Damn good money, good hours...

Tax-free....

What about it?

No... it's just that I...

I thought I'd bury myself
here for a while...

...and try and get stuck into
some writing.

Yeah, but you'd have time
for that, anyway..

We can just work
a few days a week...

Half days.

I assure you, Jack...

You've still plenty of time
to write...

...on your clattering keyboard.

Look at me.

I've got my painting
to think about.

Hang on!

I know what we'll do...

We'll knock off
and celebrate, eh?

Duty calls, my lad.

We're stuffing balloons with hydrogen
for a 50-years party.

It's probably some colonel
who'll get a tank as a present.

Look at that sun!
Feel the heat...

We'll get some beer and
shoot over to Djurgarden.

We can't do that.
We don't want to screw up.

Let yourself go,
damn it!

We'll call Harald...
He could be fun for a while.

I'll walk there on the rustling
carpet of leaves...

...I'll be melancholy...

and shed a few tears
over my unpromising destiny.

Yes, and I'll take the ferry
over this sad bay...

...that gurgles so ice-cold
and ominously.

Stand there on the foredeck

and let the wind
play madrigals through your ears...

...until I land here
on Paphos' island.

Wander in gloom
through the falling leaves...

...and dream that on...

...a tear-filled sorrowful meadow
I get to meet my love.

Who should preferably
be someone's reject,

own a wire-haired dachshund...

...be well-dressed, beautiful, fresh...

...cool, and super-feminine.

And?

You're supposed to entertain us, boyo!

Poem!

Then I take her gently by her arm...

...transport her,
with the patience of Job...

...to an English pub.

Or to a fancy Stockholm restaurant.

There, in a low voice,
I order two hot Irish coffees.

We sit there and talk.

Talk, not chat.

Vi talar ut...

We thrash out...

and we re-thrash out...

We talk about the
cruelty of life...

...and the severity of love.

Until we finish in a
morass of tears...

and self-reproach.

What then?
Hell, we want more!

Then we proudly
raise our heads...

...look into each other's eyes...

...and promise each other...

...to be faithful forever.

Beautiful!

They're so cute.

Fuck it!
Here's the shit coming again.

What's coming?

In here.

Heavens... it's summer after all.

In the winter we grab some chicks
and shoot off to the Caribbean.

Bring it on!

But where do we finish up?
We're nearly 25!

What are you crapping on about, Harald?

We're living in the here and now,
aren't we?

Any time now, a horse could come
and trample us to death.

It'd be damned stupid if
the last thing on earth we did...

...was worry about
what should become of us?

Right?

Here's to you!

Harald?

You know of a party
going on somewhere?

What sort of damn party
do you want?

If you want a real upperclass shindig,
I can give you a gem.

What do you mean, upperclass?

7-room apartment on Strandvagen...
Starched shirts, tuxedos... the works.

We go there as intriguing types
artists and bohemians...

Something different...

...so the society types
have something to look at.

Check out this guy....
He's a genuine fucking seaman!

Congratulations!

He's been a seaman for years.

We've started something.

- Get it? - I got it.

Play it again, Sam! Play it again!

- How you going?
- I never felt so good.

Want to dance?

What a fine baby boy!

What the hell...

Calm down...

You've only just come into the world.

Do you want baby cereal or tea?

Listen, I...

I'd like my pants.

You can take a shower,
over there, first.

Did you sleep well last night?

I slept very well, thanks.

I prefer sleeping under carpets.
I like the smell under them.

I actually put you in a bed...

...but you insisted on sleeping
under the carpet.

So you've seen.

I think I should be going...

I have a heap of stuff
that needs to be moved.

Thanks very much.

Would you like
to have sex with me?

Okay man... draw!

Who the hell are you?

Raastedt... Jack Raastedt.

Come on, draw.

Who the hell are you?

What the hell are you doing
in my apartment?

Get out, before I call the police.

What the hell are you doing
in my pajama pants?

Your damn...

You fucking punk!

- Get out of here!
- Calm down for fuck's sake!

What the hell are you on about?

What's this character doing here?

- Answer me!
- He slept here last night!

- I decide who sleeps here.
- I live here as well!

Don't argue...

Just make sure this
person is out of here!

All you can do is scream!

Goddamn little bitch!

- As soon as I turn my back...
- You're crazy!

...you turn the place
into a brothel.

I'll teach you...

Shut up!
I don't give a damn about you!

You and your hooligan swine!
Fucking bitch!

Okay man...

Draw!

- Okay, boyo... Come on.
- I'm coming.

If she hadn't had a thingummy with her...

I would have thought
I was dreaming.

What was her name?

So what was her name?

I don't know.

You copulate with a woman
and you don't even know her name?

Are you saying that's unusual?

Yeah...

I guess not.

What about the big guy?

Who? Her daddy?

Fucked if I know...

Where the fuck
did he come from?

Fuck it, it's him!

- What "him"?
- Him at Strandvagen.

I don't give a goddamned fuck!

- Look at this!
- I wasn't driving!

- Take it easy.
- What the hell were you doing?

- It's only a scratch.
- It's along the whole wing!

Hi!

Really is a small world.

Sometimes.

Listen...

I'd like to see you again.

Watch out!

What the hell
are you up to?

Goddamned piece of shit!

Damn fool...

It's starting to look like
a Romeo and Juliet story.

It is clear that it's over soon,
but don't make such a big deal about it.

It's no big deal,
but the leaves are falling soon.

Then it's getting dark with autumn
and the whole shit.

Fuck it...
We have to do something.

Linnea, can you turn that record off?

Just fucking listen to it instead.

- So it's your record?
- It's a good record.

September's still summer
and it's still August.

September and August
are the afternoons of life.

I hate afternoons!

We should be in the middle
of what we were supposed to be doing.

What the fuck did
we do last year?

Johnny and I cycled in Norrland.

- Great fun, eh?
- Yeah.

We're changing.
What did we do?

You're both damn stupid.

What do you mean?

Why this paranoia
about enjoying life?

Why can't we just play it cool
and go with the flow?

But we've been somewhere.

Didn't we, Bart.

Don't remember a thing.

Except for fucking a girl
against a chimney.

But where was that?

Don't worry about it.

No, we'll do something.

Come here!
Welcome to the bowels of the boat.

This'll do.

Can I offer you a snifter, boys?

Get fucking drunk on your own!

Hey... I wanna talk to you!

What do you think our parents did
when they were like us?

Young... in summer.

They went barn-dancing.

Or went to the Whirlpool dance hall,
or the Atlantic.

In form-fitting jacket, a hat,
and smelling of hair-oil.

The hat pulled low over the brow.

Then they were ready!

I wonder what sort
of shoes they had.

Snowshoes for sure.

Or shiny winkle-pickers.

Have you ever thought of that?

Our parents may have danced
on the same dance floor.

Drunk the same booze
and smoked the same cigarettes.

Listened to the same swing band
or accordion quintet.

Didn't they have jukeboxes
in those days?

They had it really lousy...
no jukeboxes and no snow shoes.

But then, during World War Two....

...then it really must have been fun.

There'll never be
that much fun again.

I wonder if they didn't
have snowshoes after all.

No, just skis.

In the 1950s...

Then everybody has had...

Everybody, high and low,
was at their happiest.

Yeah... What an age that was!
I can see it now...

How the sun shone at the start
of the happy fifties.

- When the old king died in 1950...
- Old Gus.

The nice sweet happy fifties
lay before our heroes of parents.

They faced labyrinth
of possibilities.

Yngve Stoor, Lasse Liten,
and whats-his-name?

- Lonndahl?
- Tory Bernards.

Then it was "Tulips from Amsterdam"
from Alice Babs in folk-costume!

The Haga princesses
and a real Little Prince!

That's where things started going wrong
for our dear parents.

Or going straight,
you might say.

I was already starting to be
fucking rebellious then.

Dad never dug the long hair
and all that.

But what the fuck
would you expect...

40 years old, father,
social democrat, metalworker.

No...

He never dug the long-hair look.

That was when we started skipping school.

It really was cool to be in Sweden
during the war.

Solen! Hi, Solen!

Hi, Johnny!

Johnny...

- How's things?
- Great.

- What are you up to?
- Taking it easy...

Got anything going?

Yeah... Chicks.

- Alright!
- Alright!

- These are my pals.
- Hi! When did you get here?

We got in this morning.

We're going to see some pals...
and some birds who live down here.

Harald, for God's sake!

You got something going?

Wait!

I've found it.
I've damn well found it!

It's just dill!
There's dill growing here.

Fuck!

I'll take some dill anyway...
you never know.

Jack! Not now!

We're trying to find some grass.

Over here!

I've found it!
Come here!

Cannabis gigantea. Beautiful!

What shall we put it in?

Put it under your jacket.

- Get the rest of it.
- I'll do it.

Bingo!

Chocolate?

Nepalese, Afghan,

Leb, Turkish.

Can anyone talk about
Columbus and McCloud?

Look out, I'm coming across.

No!

Hi, Nick!

I thought I'd lie down.

He's going over to snog with Linnea.

Fucking hell!

Man... oh man... oh man...!

- Terrific!
- Oh man!

Could I ask you to say a name?

What?

A name. Say a name.

Kurt.

No, a bird's name,
a girl's name.

Yes.... Sonya.

Why Sonya?

Yes, why Sonya...

My wife's name is Sonya.

OK, thanks.

Come on now, dammit!

Weren't we supposed to be cycling?

What?

Yeah...

we were, weren't we.

Come on then.

For fuck's sake...

We should be out on a bike!

Yeah... we talked about it!

Yeah...

Come on then!

Come on! We can't just lie around
doing bugger all!

We may as well be back
in our usual haze!

Isn't this fucking great?!

I have to say that my philosophy
of life is all about riding a bike.

First of all, psychically...
but this may be the case too.

Otherwise I think,
and I've always thought this...

...since childhood, the few friends
I had who tried to understand me...

Our mums probably got together
for some shitty play for charity.

While everyone else was riding around
on those amazingly wobbly Monark bikes.

- How about a rest?
- We're nearly there.

- How far?
- Not far.

I've ridden a bike
sitting in a tree.

A Monark made of paper and bark.

What the hell...

Harald!

- Keep still!
- Mummy said you've no bike any more.

Mummy, haven't you heard
about psychic cycling?

I cycle psychically, Mummy!

Come on!

Grab a few fish and come on!

Damn roads they have
here on Gotland.

Just where the hell is it?

- Jack, you're sure we'll get there?
- Of course.

Don't bullshit us, Jack.

Bloody hell...
You know what's what...

A lot of goddamn...

Come on!

For fuck's sake, Jack!

It'll be just a whole damn lot of...

Come on, pull yourself together!

You've cajoled us around
the whole damned island.

Why do we have to rush?
Stop and look around!

The ladies, Jack!

Come along!

Hi there! Aren't you
from South Stockholm?

What the fuck has it
got to do with you?

I just recognised that bird.

Scram!
You hear me?!

Punch him in the face!

I just recognised her.
What's your problem?

Are you crazy,
you bastards?

Let him alone!

You're fucking stupid!

I'll give you one chance
to scram.

Got it?

As quick as you damn-well can!

Goddamn creep!

Eternity, eternity, all is eternity.

Come here,
I want to talk to you.

No, you can't avoid someone
who wants to talk with you.

Come here, for fuck's sake!

Yes, you're the one I want to talk to.
Got it? Come here!

You gotta...

That's the way!

Hey there...!

Why do people wander around
without purpose or meaning?

And in...

...those huge department stores...

...consumers are crammed in,
buying a lot of shit they don't need.

It'd be much fucking better
if they just nicked the shit.

What? No, that's OK.

Maybe it's not logical, but remember
they don't need the shit.

Now, it'd be better if they...

And the cars that...

...have a head-on collision
at 200 clicks.

And no fucker knows why.

And all those damned alluring
neon signs...

...that...

...entice...

...loneliness.

Invincible loneliness...

That's what...

...we're all sentenced to.

It happened to me there.

Correct?

And while the world...

...around us is filled...

...with people who shoot each other
and children who starve, so that we...

...rush from pub to pub to pub.

And in the park, puberty screams...
"Get out of here!"

What?

Of course I'm still pubescent.
Sure! Fuck it!

But I'm so scared.

I'm so damned scared
of what'll become of me.

Tell me...

What the fuck will
become of me?!

No, you say nothing.

Sure...

As usual... deathly quiet eternity.

But for fuck's sake,
take a look at this...

...amusement park!

The party's over.

It's over in hell.

Are you alright?

What?

Feeling sick?

How are you feeling?

Yeah... I'm fine.

Jack...

It's me.

Sonya.

"From Here to Eternity".

Come on, wake up.

- You'll give me a hand?
- Yes...

That's fine.

What are you doing here?

What?

What are you doing here?

I'm camping.

I am so goddamned sloshed!

Are you going to be paddling
for long?

No.

Come, and I'll help you
up to the tent.

What the fuck
are you doing here, eh?

How come you're here
when I'm here?

How come you're here
when I'm here?

So, how?

I live here sometimes
during summer.

In that house
at the top of the stairs.

Alone?

No, with Daddy.

Yes, Daddy...

We've met Daddy, haven't we.

Listen...

Could we meet, tomorrow?

Sonya! Where are you?

Here. What's wrong?

Couldn't we meet tomorrow?

Yes, maybe.

Maybe before lunch time.

We could go to the beach
or something.

- Get some sleep.
- Yeah.

Bye!

Sonya...

Listen...

Sonya!

Good morning!

Toodle-oo

Where have you guys been?

We have...

been in...

amongst the trees and...

cafoodling like crazy.

- Cafoodling?
- Cafoodling.

Fucking and screwing and humping
and boozing, et cetera...

- Beer?
- Ah, breakfast!

Where did you get to?

I took a bottle down to the beach.

And fell in the drink?

Yes, I must have.

But I do remember
that I woke up in the tent.

What a guy!

He can drink himself stupid,
but knows where he woke up!

The lad's a regular wonder!

Give me a fucking break!

There was a punch-up
at that place, like I said.

So I went there with a bottle...

I emptied it and passed out.

Then Sonya came
and helped me.

Washed me and brought me here.

- Sonya?
- Who's Sonya?

The bastard's got
something going!

Who is she?

Sonya...

At the toff party...

The hostess.

And you met her here?

Sure.

You know what it looks like?

No, what does it look like?

You drank yourself stupid,
and dreamt the whole thing.

Fuck it, I'm telling you...

Stick around till later this morning.
We'll be meeting there.

And then you'll get married,
and buy a bungalow in Tibet...

and raise psychedelic
polka-dot pigs.

Knock it off, Harald.
Give him a chance.

Then suddenly you both fall
for different types.

You, for a Chinese chick...

She, for an Hawaiian surfer who has
interests in the shoe-polish industry.

Nobody has a clue,
nobody...

about your dark, sordid background,
et cetera, et cetera!

Fucking hell, Jack...
You know where she lives...

Why don't you go there?

Why don't you go
and fetch your chick?

No!

Have you forgotten her?

Don't sit there pining away!

If you want her,
do something about it.

No, I'm not going!

Yes you are!

He'll never do it.

Anybody home?

Anyone here?

You silly old bastard!

What the fuck
did I ever do to you?

- Fuck!
- Keep your pants on!

What is it now?

Cool chick sitting there.

Where?

I wonder what her name is.

Who?

- The chick.
- Johanna Hitler.

I'll go get a beer.

You need a fucking shave.

What can that mean?

Inner chaos.

Where are you going?

Who are you?

Me?

I'm me.

But what's your name?

What's yours?

My name's Jack.

My name's Gerd.

Can I get your phone number?

- Like a sip?
- No thanks.

What'd she say?

What'd she say?

What did you talk about?

Talk?

How did she seem?

Seem?

Britt thought just the same.

I can well believe it.

Hi!

Where have you been?

Gotland.

We just wanted to see
how you were fixed here.

You do need some furniture
and curtains...

Jack?
Did you hear me?

Will you be getting
some furniture and curtains?

Yeah.

What do you say to that?

"It is with pleasure that we advise
that your poem"...

"Burned Letter of Tenderness"
has been accepted for publication...

in our annual forthcoming anthology...
"Young Front".

There's no water here.

How do you keep clean?

At least you have
to wash yourself.

Is it political?

"Burned Letter of Tenderness"!

I say! Listen...

I've been accepted.

Wait...

Wait a moment!

Deo!

Hullo!

Is there a dark girl wearing
black clothes living here?

The dance floor on the hill, on Gotland.
Are you here?

What the hell are you standing there
screaming about?

Wait a sec...

Does a bird with dark hair
and clothing live here?

She could be a bit...

Chinese-looking.

Do any Chinese chicks
live here?

Greta! Someone's claiming
that Chinese are here.

The Chinese are here!

Great show on this evening.

Shall we...?

"The Chinese are
coming" 1, 2, 3!

The Chinese are coming!

What a damned row!
Scram! You must be nuts!

The Chinese are coming!

I don't give a damn!

Just behave yourselves!

Get away from here!
Stop standing there, screaming!

My name's Harriet.

Jack.

Come on...

Hi! Drink?

Bloody oath!

Wine or vitamins?
Take your pick.

Yes thanks.

I was in this chick's place
last night.

Really?

Fucking unbelievable...

There was just...

...needles and cotton pads
all over the place.

No idea what I could do
to help her.

For fuck's sake, Jack...

Think about it now.

What the fuck would you do
to help her?

She's herself and you're yourself.

Anyway, she may enjoy shooting up.

Nobody enjoys shooting up.

That's not so.

I've met people
who've enjoyed shooting up.

You and your damned dope-heads.

I'd just like for this particular chick
not to go under. See?

Best you forget her.
She'll manage.

Yes, but it's equally possible
that she could overdose.

You're so damned negative.

Try to look on the bright side of life.

Harald, do you have anything left?

Industrial photography...
What a damn job! Compressors...

Damned thumping and bumping
the whole time.

Shiny plates. Terribly sensual.

You don't really think she would've
shown you her own situation?

So you can pop in
like a glorified Professor Rexed.

Take her to a crummy
convalescent home...

and listen to the finches warbling.

I could have her put in
for aversion treatment.

Do you have to go on
and on about it?!

I've been fucking selling stuff
in this town for three years.

You'd realise I've seen a great deal.

If she wants to screw up
and get high on morphine...

so let her do it.

Who the fuck's got time to bother?

- I can do it!
- But hell, Jack!

Don't get started on your soppy tale
of your parents and the car crash.

The immigrant Gothenburg painter,
for fuck's sake.

- Thank you very much!
- I am sooo high!

Jack, you can't go around
with these pictures in your head.

Jaundice.

Punctured arms.

Shit and junk and paranoia...
Fucking hell!

Don't you get
what I'm talking about?

Bart?

Bart, did you
hear what I said?

I think so.

I'll go and stay with Leo
for a while, in Smaaland.

I can't take being here
any longer.

I'm going to sit
in front of the colour TV

have a toddy and be
completely normal.

Normal?

Exactly... Normal.

So do it.

Get the others out of here, later.

- It shall be done.
- Leave the key in usual place.

If Sonya should...

No, forget it!

Bye!

- It's been done already.
- Put down pipes and you've got...

- We'll pull them up!
- This must be...Bjornligans brother.

-
- Hooray!

The bus is so quiet.
Has someone died?

What's going on?

Hey there you boring bastards!

Liven up!

Look how he's turning!

Sonya!

Sonya!

- How you going there, driver?
- Cheers for our bus boy!

A bit of quiet back there, boys.

Get your bags.
You're not staying on this bus.

You’ve been making trouble
ever since we left Stockholm.

Can't a man have a bit of fun?

Let them stay on the bus.

Any trouble from you,
and you'll be off!

I'm getting off here anyway.

You're a bastard!

- How are you?
- Fair to middling.

Aren't you a bundle of joy!

If you spray the fields
with nettle-water...

...neither crops, birds
or people hurt.

We've got poultry over there...

...and down there are the sheep.

Hi there pussycat!
Are you a good boy?

Next summer I'll try to take water
from the river and grow rice.

Nobody's managed to do it
in Sweden yet.

Here you can just wander
round the property and switch off...

...feed the chooks,
and just take it easy.

Chat with the neighbours,
swim in the river...

...and lead a much better life
than in town.

It's all screwed up there.

Hip clothes and fake smiles
and empty merrymaking.

The left-wingers from Vaxjo
think this place is utopia.

But the more that people
believe in a utopia...

the more realistic
it has to be.

- What the fuck is this?
- Ginseng.

It'll make you healthy and strong.

No one can complain about you
having a "gin grog".

No that's something that's faded
in our past.

It might sound a bit unnecessary
and old-fashioned...

But damn it, we all have to live
the way we want to.

Ginseng?

No...

It wasn't pleasant.

I'm going to show you
something impressive.

What the fuck could I do?

What can I say?

There's a great deal to do.

Hi!

- Have you baked a cake?
- Yes.

Lovely!

By the way, Jack...

there was a phone call for you.

Really? Who was it?

She didn't give her name.

- She?
- Yes.

Didn't leave a number?

No.

- Hello!
- Hi!

You back already?
That's odd.

What's wrong with that?

What's up with him?

What the hell's going on
with you lot?

What's up now?

Can't a person have
a bit of fun?

You can't stay here like this!

- You've got to get out!
- Get your hands off me!

Take your filthy blanket!

If you look outside,
you'll see it's autumn.

Autumn...
the season for making an effort!

Go to hell!

The party's over now...
Thank you and goodbye!

The fucking party's over!
Come on!

Take your goddamned shit
and scram!

One thing Harald...

What the fuck is this?

I put it there!

Just remember one thing...

About that chick...

I'm going to get her
straightened out, I promise.

Hi! Where did you get to?

Sort yourself out, damn it!

How about her!

At least I've got myself a job!

At a newspaper!

Not interested?

Yes, very.

I got it!

Listen, folks...!

Can't you go home and squabble?!

What was with the girl here?

Enough is enough!

Bart's workmate, a photographer.

Workmate!

Close the door
on your way out!

Fuck you too!

What the fuck do YOU want?

Scram!

You swine! You shit!

You weren't so garrulous
last time you were here.

No, I know, but...

I want to help you.

Help me...?

God almighty!

And how the fuck are you
gonna do that, Doctor?

First you have to go in
for treatment.

Then you can move in with me,
and get away from everyone.

Leave me alone!

Where the fuck
did you get this idea from?

Didn't I tell you to get out?!

Who the fuck are you, anyway?

- Who am I?
- Yes.

Why are you here?

Can't you give up on that?

What the fuck would you know?

What the fuck would you know
about anything?

Listen...

Please don't interrupt.

Leave me alone.

Go away!

How do you feel now?

Good. Real good.

You haven't overdosed just now?

Just go!

OK?

Fuck it, Jack...

Got yourself a bird?

You bastard!

Fuck it Jack, are you nuts?

Sonya!

Howdy!

Hi!

Nice you could come.

Do you live here?

Sure.

Have a good time on Gotland?

So-so.

What did you do?

Just lived there.

Whereabouts?

We rented an apartment in Visby.

So you weren't there
on your own?

No.

So where's HE now?

I guess he's out somewhere.

That was just a "summer flirtation"....

...as my mum would call it.

Like a drink?

Alright.

He's so idiotic and dense
and drives me nuts with his jealousy.

Nice cheese!

Are you down in the dumps?

No, why do you ask?

Why did you phone me?

Why would you think?

Because you want
to have sex with me?

Why did you come here?

What do you think?

- Want one?
- No, thanks.

When do you start
in the morning?

I don't know.

What about your job?

I don't work.. I...

A job makes me ill.

Ill?

Yeah.

Two or three days and I get...

...physically indisposed.

I don't believe it.

Sure, it's true.

How do you get any money?

It always works out.

No, I want to write.

Just write..

Can't you get a job
and write at the same time?

May I do that?

I think so.

I have to be at home
to mind the canary.

But you could do that.

I've boxed in the same club
as "Giant" Lundby.

They aren't as innocent
as they look.

They want cock every night.

All of them.

The chicks.

One came at 7 yesterday...

She left at 9.

Stupid fucking thing!

I'd no sooner got rid of her
than I was expecting another.

I'd no sooner kicked HER out...
and she was happy...

...the next one came.

A regular fuck-fest my boy!

You have to come home
with me some evening...

We can get a damned orgy going.

Are you a good fuck?

Yeah... I guess so.

I fucked on stage
at "Chat Noir" last winter.

I had to give it up.
I couldn't manage, with double shifts.

Grab that pillow
and throw it away.

Throw it away.

Then you take the sheets...

And in it goes.

The only reason to work
in this joint, is the chicks.

Then I said to that cop...

What the hell...?

What the hell's
going on here now?

- Would you be Mr Jacobsson?
- No.

You're not?

It's unfortunate
it has to be this way, but...

The house is to be evacuated.

And it must be be cleared
before the end of the day.

We gave plenty of notice,
so you must be aware of it.

What the fuck
are you talking about?

I'm talking about evacuating the house.

It's to be a cultural center.
It has to be cleaned up.

- You heard... artists will live here.
- Shut up!

Maybe you can sublet.

How do I do that?

It seems the leaseholder
has neglected to inform you.

There's not much can be done about it.
We're just doing out job.

This house has to be empty
by the end of the day.

We'll phone Johnny.
Come on!

You can stay with me
on the woodpile!

Hello!

I said hello!

Mail.

Fuck it!

A refusal?

"Thank you for your interest, but I can not
publish something that I do not understand."

No...

No?

"Your sincerely,
Theodor Kallifatides."

I can't stick this out any longer.

Working at the hospital all day
and writing at night.

You need a holiday.

No, I need to write.

You can't mope
around listlessly...

waiting for inspiration.

I was writing when you arrived.

Now you've broken my
train of thought.

Alright, but what have you done?

Smoke some weed.

That'll make me more screwed up

Have a snort.

I'd get too dopey.

- Valium.
- Too screwy!

- Hang yourself.
- Too sad!

You've got to pull
yourself together.

You can't just sit there, saying...

"I'll have it all written tomorrow.
You'll see."

Listen to who's fucking talking!

How's your painting going?

Done anything lately?

Hang something nice...
I need some new...

...art!

You needn't be so pissed off, old boy.

What'll we do tonight?

I know what I'll be doing.

Hello, I'd like to change...

Hello!

Where's Sonya?

Does she visit you?

She'd be visiting you,
wouldn't she?

Get out!

Get out of here!

As the bishop said to the actress.

Hi!

The worst is the fucking price
of the stuff.

Sales tax and shit.

I have some ready-mixed here.

You're so far-sighted.

Aren't I just?

Just like now...

I assume that within two hours...

...we'll be sitting 2 metres
above the table...

...floating in the air.

This is a new airship, you see...

...tested for years
over the English Channel...

But so much fun...
and it works on land as well.

Yes, especially good in marshland.

You couldn't imagine
a better place than here.

I think I'll be off...

I have to go.

Fuck it, we were supposed to...

It's only 9 o'clock.

I need to be up early.

Maybe I'll see you around.

A bitch, anyway.

No.

Gerd?

Fucking hell...!

Harald, we should get bows and arrows...

Go down to Gotland
and shoot away!

A chopper...

We ought to build a chopper.

That's give us something
to do in winter, too.

- Shall we go to my place?
- We just go from the waist up...

...and organise some passable ladies.

Are you leaving?

Going down to my
place for a while.

Don't forget we're going down
to the local later!

I know!

Think about autumn,
when it starts to get cold...

Moonlight for a month...

and sell a lot of hash.

- We'll be floating...
- Over the rainbow and away.

I've been listening to that yacking
so long, I'm tired of it.

No fucking way they'll get choppers
to go anywhere with.

Fuck..! That's something
I could write about.

- Write?
- Yeah.

You never talk about anything
except your damned writing!

It's important to me.

What about me?

And me?

Yes, you're important, too.

How important?

Important.

Am I more important
than a typewriter?

Yes, sometimes.

Sometimes?

Of course you're more important
that that piece of scrap-metal...

But do you realise
that it can build worlds?

That makes that one
more important than me.

Yes, sometimes.

Fucking hell!

How about we...

We'll go and join the others
for a beer.

I believe in the truth.
People have to be honest with each other.

Art schools and psychologists
are the worst things I know!

Everywhere you look around here...

Here there are only ready-made
damned blockheads of painters!

- Shut up!
- So damn intellectualized!

Do you know what
the people round us are?

Do you know what they are? Jack?

They're idiots!

Knock it off!

Quiet, or we'll be thrown out.

- I don't give a shit.
- But I give a shit!

I'm the only real painter
in this place!

- Shut the fuck up!
- Calm down now.

- They're all idiots.
- Calm down.

Can't someone throw that fucker out?

You know...

You know there's this chick
called Sonya who...

Who I can't get out of my mind.

What do you mean?

I met her in this summer...

She's got this dad, who's...

Then we'll take the train...

...through Russia and Turkey,
Afghanistan, India...

There's no point Johnny.
You have to do it yourself.

You're nuts!

- Idiots!
- Bart!

You just have to realise that...

I can't forget her.
I'm miserable. It's not working.

I can't forget her.

What are you doing?
Where are you going?

I'm fed up!
Go find your Sonya instead!

But fuck it, Gerd...!

Where have you been?
I looked fr you everywhere.

What are you doing here?

This is where I work.

Couldn't we meet?
I need to talk to you.

Would you please just leave?

Couldn't we go for a coffee?
I just need to talk to you.

Jack, get out of here!

Couldn't we go for a feed later?

Just go away, Jack.
Please Jack, go away!

What about later in the week?

Hi!

Hi! How you going?

So-so.

Riding.

You?

Great.

This is Eva.

- Hi, I'm Jack.
- Hi!

We're off to Paris.

Paris?

Eva's starting in art school there.

Thought I'd tag along.

Never too old
to learn something.

- What about the digs?
- It's yours.

We can talk about it later.

When did you decide on this?

Today... just now.

Fuck it, a man's got to do something.

That was terrible about Harald.

Is he in trouble?

Haven't you heard?

No... what?

He left us yesterday.

What?

He's dead.

What the fuck
are you talking about?

He fell backwards
on an escalator.

Smashed his head in, it seems.

His coat got caught and he was
dragged up, strangling him.

That's what I heard.
I don't know the details.

- On an escalator?
- An escalator.

- Can we go now, Bart?
- Yeah, sure.

He fell on an escalator
and it killed him?

Yes, with the strangling.

Come on, they'll be closing soon.

We have to go to an exhibition.

We'll talk later.

Hi there.

The mountain climber.

Take care of Linnea now.

Yeah.

Johnny!

Do a bit of shopping.

Take care.

Wait a sec.

Listen, Rasstedt...
There are things to be taken care of.

We can really kick arse.

We've got these possibilities.

And it's us that has them, see?

Yeah.

So get something done then!

What the fuck
are you babbling about?

What have YOU done?

I'm going to Paris.

- You don't really believe that.
- You can bet on it.

If I say I'm going, I'm going.

But now I've got the truck,
so I don't have to go.

That was a damned bit of luck for you.

Johnny's not so dumb.
He does stuff.

Go to Nepal and polish brass.

It doesn't matter what you do!
Just do something!

Get moving!

It's getting urgent, boyo...
We'll soon be 30.

That's what a man should have.

A horse?

No way!
The chick.

Stuck-up tart!

Stuck-up tart,
just because she had class?

Upperclass. yeah.

Don't give me that crap.

You were after that!

Better the horse.

You're nuts

What about that Sonya?
Upperclass?

Right?

Now it's here, anyhow - totally.

What is?

Autumn.

- No, but spring...
- What?

- You know, Bart...
- Yeah?

It isn't autumn.

It's spring.

Understand?

No, you're right...
Get going!

Coming home with me?

No, I don't think so.

Alright, I'm off.

See you later!

Subtitles by FatPlank for KG