Oldies But Goldies (2012) - full transcript
Everybody needs to find some kind of motivation, a feeling that there is sense to his life. It is much harder to find this basic value when one gets older. Ota's (Radoslav Brzobohatý) act consists of the fulfillment of his long-standing dream of the beautiful actress Jana. Earlier, when he was still full of vigor and she was young and beautiful, he couldn't find the courage to approach her. Now Jana (Jirina Bohdalová) accepts his gesture because she also feels she is nearing the end of her rope. They spend two days together on the run, two days that return the sense they have lost from their lives.
Czech Television
Ministry of Culture
Film Industry Support Program
The Czech State Fund
for Czech Cinematography
“To Ota
With Respect, Jeanne”
-Hello.
-Hi. One sec.
We’re here, Dad.
I’m winding the tape.
Machine ate it.
-You have the CD.
-The sound isn’t so good...
You wanted to do this yourself.
C’mon. They’re waiting.
Let’s go.
Wait.
Wait.
Cane.
-That your car?
-No, Dad’s.
Sign here.
-We can drive it in the woods.
-You promised not to make trouble.
I’m glad I’m almost blind.
Here’s a towel. Soap. Marta will
make room in the bathroom for you.
It’s too soft.
I’m used to my couch.
These two shelves are yours.
I won’t be able to sleep.
Whose idea was this? Hers?
Who cares?
-Are you that afraid of her?
-Come eat. It’s ready!
Please, Dad. It’s just a few months.
-Here’s your cane.
-A few months?
Hang on, Jenda.
You said two weeks.
The operation takes 52 minutes.
Want a spoon?
-I’ve got cataracts. Not dementia!
-Don’t yell at me.
The doctor said it
was a serious operation.
I know exactly what he said.
Mr Karhanek expected help.
He went blind instead.
His retina was damaged.
That’s different. It’s necessary.
And risky. You want me crippled.
-Come on.
-My sight’s fine!
Take me home.
Please sit down. It’s suppertime.
I’m not hungry. I want to go home.
Kaja’s at your place now.
-What? He’s at sports camp.
-Don’t be childish.
Jenda and I can’t drive
across town every day.
-You can’t even see your pills.
-I never asked you to!
You can’t cook with bandaged eyes.
Who cares where you stay?
You’ll be here.
Kaja will be there. He’ll study.
-He’ll house sit.
-Right.
Oh.
Calm down! You’ve slept here a lot.
This is exactly
what I didn’t want.
We knew he’d move in someday.
You have to get used to it.
He’s unbearable.
We’ll go crazy!
I’d so love to do
this for my parents.
May I?
You shouldn’t read.
When should I look at it?
When they blind me?
-What are you missing?
-Privacy.
Shut the door.
I can’t play the radio
or have guests.
No one visits you.
What if I meet someone?
Do I seat them
under this poster?
You’ve lived alone fifteen years.
Now you plan to meet someone?
Precisely.
Goodnight.
If I’m going to burden anyone
it certainly won’t be her.
Find a loving nurse. Or two.
Then I’ll take you home.
“Nursing Home”
Mrs Furtakova?
Mrs Furtakova, open up!
Unlock the door
or I’ll call maintenance.
-Who’s there?
-You know full well!
It’s past lights out.
Where’d you get the keys?
We have to lock up. Lots of thefts here.
Tell me if you lose anything. OK?
The water’s off upstairs.
Mrs Jizna’s moving in.
-No way!
-It’s the only bed left.
My grandson pays
for a private room.
We haven’t been paid
since your husband died.
That can’t be!
We’ll resolve this in the morning.
Mrs Jizna needs a bed.
No smoking in the room.
Cross this line and I’ll have to fight.
Mrs Bezouskova’s been robbed
three times in her sleep.
Mrs Mazdrova was raped.
-First I hear of this.
-This isn’t the first floor, dear.
It’s the basement. You’d be amazed
what goes on here.
Here?
Someone roams the halls
checking we’re asleep.
Mrs Kadlecova saw
that guy with the axe.
Axe?
People go missing here.
-Who does that?
-Who do you think? Guess!
Who’d benefit if beds
were available here?
That’s awful.
Go to sleep. I’ll be up anyway.
Do you take medicine?
-Yes.
-Your mistake.
They add in drugs. Morphine mostly.
Morphine?
When they stop you’ll gladly
give them your pension.
Good night.
Warm that up!
You should still be asleep.
-The bed’s too soft.
-Please come here.
Come inside or you’ll catch cold.
-Yes?
-Does Dad have hygiene issues?
That’s horrible!
He’s doing it on purpose.
He knows you hate it.
If he wants me
to throw him out, he’s wrong.
He followed school rules for his whole
life. He can follow our rules, too.
Once you hire a nurse
you can even shave in bed.
Until then do as we do. OK?
I know a crystal well
Deep in the woods
C’mon, Blaha! Again.
I know a crystal well
Deep in the woods
Dark ferns grow there
Red briars all around
Birds and deer go to drink
Beneath the maple tree
The birds...
For God’s...
Can’t you play three bars in a row?
Krpalkova, is your hearing aid on?
Guess not.
You’re missing every other beat.
Ba ba ba boom!
Ba ba ba boom!
Not boom, boom, boom, boom.
That’s vesper bells.
I’m reciting a poem
if you didn’t notice. Blaha!
Why can’t you keep time?
You were a postal worker.
Ba ba ba and stamp!
Stamp! Stamp!
It’s easy!
You can do music and theater
well into your hundreds.
Try harder.
Our concert’s a month away
and you could care less!
-I’m tone deaf, Janicka.
-Nonsense.
Know how many professional
musicians are tone-deaf?
-No.
-Nearly all of them.
Music is here inside. It’s harmony.
Who but us should
have harmony inside?
-Mrs Furtakova...
-Later. We’re rehearsing.
The head nurse wants you.
Can’t it wait? We finish at half past.
Sit down, Mrs Furtakova.
The doctor ordered you a cane.
I don’t need it.
We’ll be up all night with you
if you bruise your ribs again.
Here’s a complaint
about your courses.
Mr Pihrt again?
From Mr Vratek’s son
and Mrs Simicova.
Their grandparents’
fingers were bruised.
They got that from
the film “Witch Hammer.”
Mr Faltys made thumb screws
out of a French crutch.
He’s an engineer.
You force Mr Zdrahal
to drink raw eggs.
Ever hear him sing?
He has five octaves.
He must care for his voice.
This is a nursing home. Not Art School.
You want us to lie in bed
and pop pills?
No, my clients need rest.
We’ll rest soon enough.
You plan to shoot
Mr Pihrt out of a cannon.
He wants to play
Baron Munchhausen.
He insists.
Are the beds made?
I want to finish up.
Your courses end today.
I can’t wait until
someone has a stroke.
I won’t let you!
I’m in charge here.
Our clients need rest.
Then I’m leaving.
Mrs Furtakova!
Your husband died.
Your son lives abroad.
It’s been three years
since your grandson visited.
Where will you go?
No more rumors about
the guy with the axe!
-Long live Magic School!
-Hip hip! Hooray...
Hi, everyone! Hi, Frantisek...
The number you dialed
has been disconnected.
“To Ota
with Respect, Jeanne”
Hi!
-Here, lady.
-Good.
Thanks.
Here.
Where’s the 100?
“Minister of Culture, Prague Castle”
I’m here, Dad.
I hope you’re ready.
The eye clinic closes at 12.
Hear me?
Dad?
Mrs Furtakova!
Mrs Furtakova!
Have you seen her?
I’ll head to the gate.
You check the park.
Thanks.
Mrs Furtakova!
Mrs Furtakova!
Janicka!
Janicka!
Lunchtime!
Mrs Furtakova!
Sweet Jesus!
He’s asking for you. Inspection
by the Ministry of Culture.
Again? Don’t they have
anything better to do?
-Hello.
-Hello. I’m Wagner.
-Let’s go to the office.
-I’m looking for this woman.
Then you’re not from the Ministry.
No, sorry.
You wouldn’t have
talked to me otherwise.
I saw her in “Three Sisters.”
-Jeanne DeFuro?
-Jana Furtakova.
Outside help? How old is the photo?
Not very. About forty-five years.
Stop by my office, OK?
-Where can I find her? -The actress
hasn’t worked here in forever. Sorry.
-Hey! Hey, Mister!
-Yes?
Excuse me. I knew her. Jeanne DeFuro.
-Really?
-She emigrated to the US after 1968.
Right. But she came back.
Wow! I have her photo, too.
She signed mine
just “With respect.”
-Why are you looking for her?
-I want to see her.
Don’t ruin your memories.
She’ll be an old hag.
I used to look better, too.
She lived in a studio apartment
in the Lesser Town. That was long ago.
Oh.
I pumped her stomach.
-Tomorrow she’ll have a headache.
-Why not hospitalize her for a week?
No way. Look. She bit me twice.
Where does she get the energy?
She drains it from us!
She refuses medication, has crazy ideas
and attempts suicide twice yearly.
-What now?
-Who cares?
She starts and cancels
classes without asking.
-When she’s done with you
she shoots you from a canon. -Huh?
Most self-absorbed person I’ve met.
-You’ve never acted.
-Give her a sedative. I beg you.
-She’s not in pain.
-Then give me one.
Give her one max if she misbehaves.
You’re awesome.
Need a ride? I get off work soon.
No, thanks.
I drove here. Goodbye.
Goodbye.
What was that, Mrs Furtakova?
I’m sick. I can’t breathe.
“Dear Mr Minister,”
-You have no right...
-“I cannot practice the art...”
-That’s my will! Give it to the lawyer.
-“...life’s work. I am taking my life.”
“Head Nurse Aneta Malkova
is responsible for my death.”
Mrs Furtakova, I’d like
you to stop this tomfoolery.
Turning people in and such.
-I want peace here.
-You cancelled my classes.
Your?
Who started them
instead of crappy embroidery?
Why are you so nasty?
Nasty? For refusing to croak
and free up a bed?
Mrs Furtakova...
Promise to follow the rules.
Consider how old and
unhealthy the others are.
Then can the courses go on?
We’ll see.
-Anything else?
-Yes.
I want to watch TV.
My husband has cancer.
I wake up terrified
he’s stopped breathing.
-We both know he has a month
left to live. -Oh, gee. Unbelievable.
-Understand, doctor.
-You’re overacting.
A month to part
with your beloved.
You’re overacting.
I’m not strong enough
to handle it alone.
Don’t those sibilants annoy you?
The “l”!
Pihrt talks like that
when he drinks egg cognac.
Don’t torment me, Heliodor.
You know how I feel.
Rudolf is my brother.
When I was in the theater
this broad was a maid there.
That can’t be. He died in a storm
in the Cape Verde Islands.
That was her only talent!
-A lie...
-We’re watching, Mrs Furtakova.
Then watch if you can bear it.
Old hag.
-I’m afraid of you.
-Yet you love me.
-Mrs Furtakova!
-Yes. -This came today.
-Why didn’t you give it to me sooner?
-You were poisoned.
My condolences.
They invited me to audition in Prague.
Sweet Jesus! Prague?
-Yup.
-I was hospitalized there.
Did you drink the tea?
I’m going to Prague.
They invited me to an audition!
The doctor ordered
you to rest for a week.
-That is out of the question.
-Am I here voluntarily? Yes.
-I can leave when I wish.
-Of course.
-There are ten applicants waiting
for your spot. -Great. I’ll get paid.
I’ll buy an apartment.
Leave against medical advice
and you’re breaking the rules.
You’ll pay the consequences.
-Here it is!
-Really?
-Hello. -How can I help you?
-We’re looking for this woman.
-Jana Furtakova. -Yes, she lives here.
-Go back inside.
-We’d like to speak with her.
-I don’t know anyone by that name.
You two have the same name.
That witch doesn’t live here.
Neither does her brat.
-If you’re here to harass us...
-Not at all. -Fine. May I?
Goodbye.
Wait...
Jesenik.
Tell her hello.
She won’t remember.
Jesenik...
Mrs Furtakova?
Janicka?
Anything you need?
-Hello.
-Hello.
-Everything OK?
-Sure. Why is Mrs Furtakova sedated?
-Doctor’s orders.
-She had no complaints.
-Did you study medicine? -No.
-She was poisoned and needs rest.
If she refuses, it’s up to us.
People are waiting
for theater group.
Groups are cancelled. It’s on the board.
Thomas Berhodi
“Murders After Dark”
She hasn’t talked since last night.
She could be angry with me
because of the letter.
-Mrs Furtakova needs rest. -OK.
-Don’t you have physical therapy?
-Yes.
-Run along. -OK.
-I want to go to the audition.
-In your condition?
There’ll be others. You’ll see.
Now it’s time to rest.
We’re all going to rest.
Admitting is upstairs.
Where are your bags?
-I’m a visitor.
-Visiting hours start at three.
Sorry, but my bus is leaving.
The patient’s name?
-Jeanne DeFuro.
-Excuse me?
Jana Furtakova. She’s supposedly here.
-Are you a relative?
-No.
-That a problem?
-“Nursing Home”
Sir, wait!
Over here...
-You here for Mrs Furtakova?
-They say she’s sick.
You’re her first visitor
in three years.
Can it wait until twelve?
The head nurse is going downtown.
He left home in the morning.
How old is the child?
Seventy-nine.
It’s my Dad.
He has poor vision
and needs assistance.
We’re worried.
Hang on.
Copy.
Hi.
Sure, certainly. Around four.
She’s out of it,
but she can hear you.
You have a visitor,
Mrs Furtakova.
Here.
-Why are you staring?
-I...
You new here?
I’m Ota.
Remember me?
No.
I found your photo in my car.
Car?
Jeanne DeFuro.
No one’s called me
that in thirty years.
I thought it’d be nice if you were
hitchhiking wearing this corset.
You wouldn’t be so excited now.
Would too. I have bad eyesight.
I’m a piece of shit.
I’am vulgar.
Does it bother you?
No. Yes. A little.
I taught high school for forty years.
I’d demand fifty push-ups
for some words.
Start counting.
Oh shit!
Trouble. Big trouble. Come with me.
-Come here.
-Can you help me?
-How?
-Wait by the gate at nine.
-I’ll explain later.
-OK. -Come on!
-Darn!
-What? -Come here.
I forgot my wallet.
I need memory pills, too.
Your shift ends at half past.
I won’t pay overtime.
-Dad, where are you?
-In Jesenik. -Marta and I...
-I met someone.
-In Jesenik?
What are you doing? Your operation
is in five days. It’s no joke.
I’m using my drops
and I have my pills.
Calm down.
You plan everything months in advance.
Now you’re 400 km away!
I’m taking a look in case it fails.
No, Dad. You can’t do that.
Hear me? Dad!
He has a date.
There.
Good girl. How do you feel?
I knew we could get along.
Good night.
-Good night, Mrs Jizna.
-Good night.
-Say it again.
-Mrs Furtakova is ill today.
She’ll be resting all afternoon.
Right. Go on.
She...
She asked me to bring
her lunch to her room.
Right. Her room. I’ll forget that.
For God’s sake it’s one sentence.
I’ll write it on your hand.
You could never even be an extra.
Here are some rollers.
You can keep them.
They’re from Las Vegas.
You’ve got to do
something with your hair.
-What film are you in?
-It doesn’t...
-Mrs Furtakova?
-Put that away!
Sorry...
-I didn’t think you were coming.
-Feeling better?
The gate is locked
at eight like a zoo.
I have to get to you.
Wait. Look...
For God’s sake
what are you doing?
You’ll see. It’ll work. Wait.
Now this...
Darned fence. It’s like a prison.
Do you know “fire extinguisher”?
-What’s that?
-I taught it at school.
Roll your torso over the obstacle.
You get half your body over.
The other half rolls over the top.
Land on your lower limbs.
-In Czech?
-Excuse me?
Bend over...
Get your leg over it.
-It doesn’t work.
-It has to.
-Use your center of gravity.
-Mine’s gone. -I see...
Hang on. Here...
Here...
Anything broken?
Your cane.
Hang on.
Jesus. It’s the Valium.
-What’s it for?
-Oh, please...
It’s punishment.
The door’s always locked.
Leave the swearing to me.
-Where’s your car?
-What car?
You mentioned a car. The photo...
-I took the train.
-Hell’s bells...
Why didn’t
you tell me right away?
Wait. Take this. Wait here.
What’s wrong? Let’s go.
I need to be in Prague by morning.
-Prague?
-I have an audition.
We have to be back
by six for supper.
-I can’t do that. -Why did you come
here if you’re chicken shit?
-Chicken shit?
-Aren’t you?
I have cataracts.
I can’t see at night.
This could only happen to me.
When I need help
they send a cripple.
Sorry. I didn’t mean that.
The audition means a lot to me.
I got a personal invitation.
Let’s go by train.
It takes a few hours.
Like an extra? Hop in.
I’ll drive.
-You’re medicated, Mrs Furtakova.
-What can they do?
Revoke your license.
How? I don’t have one.
I taught children to obey
rules for forty years.
High time you quit.
-What’s your name?
-Ota. -Ota...
This film’s my most important
venture in thirty years.
Got it?
Start her up.
Shit!
-Press the clutch.
-Why didn’t you say so?
-Turn on the lights.
-They’re on.
-What’s he doing? -He has the right
of way. Read the signs.
They go by too fast!
Go straight 3.5 km,
then turn right.
Then go straight for 800 meters
and then turn right again.
Don’t tell me to turn
10 km down the road.
-I’m watching the map.
-It won’t go anywhere.
Entertain me. What do you usually do?
-Usually?
-Yeah.
I taught starting at 8.
I still get up at 6.
At 7:30 I make breakfast. I take my
pills. Sometimes my blood pressure.
Not your medical record.
I get that every day.
Something exciting.
What’s your worst fear?
I’ve been reading
mystery novels lately.
I fear I’ll end up
bedridden like my Dad.
-So I came to see you.
-Can you see a radio?
-No.
-Pity.
We could’ve listened to music.
A light just came on.
-What? Where?
-Here. See? What is that?
It’s orange. This one here.
-Orange, eh? -Yup.
-That’s the fuel light.
-Already?
Damn.
We’ll reach an intersection
then we go straight.
It’s a dead end.
Where’s that gas station?
Maybe at the last exit.
Maybe? Definitely.
Fuck! Now you did it!
-I said it was faster by train.
-Now you proved it.
It’s not my fault.
Who said there was a station
at the end of this goat path?
-Did you teach geography?
-I’ll get a tractor. -Please. Stay put.
I won’t go looking
for you in these hills.
-I’m sorry.
-I know.
Someone might
give us a lift.
You don’t have to come with me.
I’ve held you up all night.
-I’ll manage on my own.
-I’m glad I can still help.
Back then you didn’t
want anything at first either.
Would you walk faster at least?
Sure, but my cane broke.
-And then...
-Well, what?
You got a flat
near the campground.
-Right front tire.
-Flat tire, huh?
-You were rushing to Krumlov.
-Oh. I see.
That was where
it all happened.
Higher!
Stay behind the line.
And smile.
I never hitch-hiked
or picked anyone up.
It’s actually freeloading.
It’s not my fault no one
drives in this country.
Come on. That’s it.
I hitchhiked across
the entire USA.
-My husband has cancer.
-Sorry to hear that.
I’m working.
I have to prepare a monologue.
They always want one.
Sorry.
I wake up terrified
he’s stopped breathing.
We both know he only
has one month to live.
So? What do you think?
You’re not listening.
I doubt we’ll get a ride.
Not a car in sight.
I said two hitchhikers
are too many.
-They pick up young people.
-Nonsense.
No one picks up two hitchhikers.
They chat with each other.
You pick up
hitchhikers for fun.
If I were alone
I’d be on my way.
I hear you. Go ahead.
Come on. You aren’t in a hurry.
You can stop someone else.
Don’t worry.
Thanks. Are you going to Prague?
Everything OK?
-Do you need an ambulance?
-Ambulance?
My husband has cancer.
I wake up terrified
he’s stopped breathing.
Where’s he going?
To oncology.
What did you tell them?
That they take us both
or I refuse to go.
-Thank you.
-It’s always the same.
The girl smiles
and the light goes on.
So you changed my tire
and I autographed my picture.
No, that was later. At night.
I see.
Thank you.
Pity their beat ends here.
They’d have taken us to Prague.
-Here’s a yogurt.
-I hate yogurt.
They feed us yogurt
and things that wash easy.
My wife always had
yogurt for breakfast.
Did her a lot of good.
Sorry.
-She still eats yogurt.
-She’s still alive?
-She left you?
-Why do you think that? -No idea.
I thought your life
was too well planned.
-We all need a schedule.
-Are you a streetcar?
It was a centimeter wide.
Rubbed off on the towels.
I have no right
to lecture about marriage.
I’m twice divorced.
Three times.
I don’t count John.
That was for a visa.
No.
Last one promised me
a gig at the National Theater.
I ended up in a musical.
Men are full of promises.
They never come through.
Wouldn’t you like
to live with someone?
What’re those pills for?
This one’s for my heart.
For my blood. This is for my eyes.
This one... The green one is...
-For your memory, right?
-Perhaps.
-Don’t you take medication?
-Never voluntarily.
I learn texts to exercise my memory.
I see.
Hurry or we’ll miss it!
I bought a newspaper.
I’m not allowed
to read them at home.
Oh.
How old do I look? Be honest.
They’re looking for
a woman around sixty.
You’d pass for less.
Good. Clever approach.
Did you ever flatter
your wife like that?
I still had my sight.
My wife taught
chemistry and physics.
-So? -She didn’t care
about her appearance.
Bull. A woman’s image in the mirror
is her only physical quantifier.
They gave me parts
based on my looks.
So you weren’t sick?
Of course. I’m seventy-five.
Most people die
within ten years of that.
Jana?
Do you remember me?
Darn.
What happened?
Darn...
What the...
Sorry. We can’t go any further.
Someone jumped under the train.
So much for your trains!
You live in a fantasy.
Train travel in this country
is only for thrill-seekers.
We should wait like the rest.
I can’t wait until they pry
some wretch off the tracks.
Why didn’t he jump in the river?
It keeps going.
Hold the umbrella
so my face doesn’t smear.
What time is it?
That lady in Prague
said you were nasty.
-Who said you could go there?
-I was looking for you.
She lives in my apartment.
Does that make me nasty?
That she turned my son
and grandson against me?
Did you ask who’s been paying
the rent the last twenty years? Did you?
Everything thinks
I’m just a nasty, old lady.
-Not me.
-You do, too!
The good thing about old age
is you can be honest.
So I told her.
I’ll get you to Prague.
Promise.
We’re going to Prague.
Mrs Furtakova
gave me the rollers. Honest.
I didn’t steal them.
That isn’t important. It’s OK.
Does she know anything?
Nothing before 20 years.
Vacation?
Something like that.
I drove a truck once.
Most old hitchhikers
come from Holland.
I drove one old geezer
all the way to Cheb.
He forgot he wanted
to get out in Utrecht.
Don’t worry. I’ve driven lots of folks.
-What’re you doing?
-Coffee. Want some?
-You’d better drive.
-Relax.
The grooves in the road to Zamberk
are so deep we won’t even budge.
-Making coffee.
-Yup.
Road repairs near Rychnov.
Better take the route
from Litomysl to Chrudim.
Will do. Thanks. I owe you one.
In Australia touch the wheel
and you lose your fingers.
-He knows what he’s doing.
-Taking risks.
-I make coffee here every week.
-It’s against the rules!
More than two people
in the cab is against the rules.
-Yeah?
-Yeah. -Then let us out.
As you wish.
Are you crazy? Old tarts are strutting
their stuff in Prague already.
-I’m stuck in East Bumfuck!
-Let’s take the bus.
-Wait for us.
-Sure.
You’re making me late.
Once you changed my tire.
There were lots of tires.
I won’t let a grumpy old man
ruin my last chance.
Understand?
I called Prague. She missed the casting.
A man visited her yesterday.
-It might be a coincidence, but...
-What did he look like?
Seventy-ish.
Grey hair,
dark jacket, medium build.
-When?
-About noon.
-Doctor... -What happened?
-Furtakova flew the coop.
The lumberjacks
found our car in a ditch.
Christ! Was she drugged up?
-Excuse me. What time was it?
-Around noon. -Noon.
I wanted a few days of peace.
In a way I like the old hag.
The first day they invite
second-rate actors anyway.
I’ve never burdened anyone.
I don’t plan to start now.
You sound like a child.
You can’t bear the fact
someone could still want me.
I’m going home. They’ll put
my eyes out and then I’ll die.
Bravo!
OK. I went too far calling
you a grumpy old man.
Not at all. You got it right.
-I thought I could change.
-You can change anything!
But I can’t. I’m a boring old teacher.
Even back then I bored you.
-Did I say that?
-It’s true.
Pay now. ID in the morning.
-We want two rooms.
-We’re full.
-Any other hotels nearby?
-Nope.
I could get you
a younger one for the same price.
I like her.
-I want the bed by the window.
-Fine.
-Could be worse.
-Wish I had your vision.
-Well. We’ll survive one night.
-Sure we will.
May I?
Sure.
-Like the blues?
-No. Too sad.
We played this for twenty years.
Care to dance?
-Don’t be crazy. I need sleep.
-You said I was boring.
-OK, then.
-Yes.
Ota?
What happened
at the campground?
You came back after the show.
-My tent was by the river.
-Bet I was drunk.
Just tipsy.
I did lots of stupid things.
Keep up!
In my car it plays slower.
-Ouch.
-Sorry.
I should teach dancing.
If you need somewhere to stay
my apartment’s pretty nice.
We’ll never mention this again.
You asleep?
Here?
You never hear this
at the old folks’ home.
It’s taking forever.
-How big is yours?
-What?
Your flat.
-Two rooms.
-Kitchen?
I only cook supper.
I eat lunch in
the school cafeteria.
I approve. I never liked cooking.
You’ll like my son.
He’s boring like me.
Otherwise he’s bright.
He could’ve done better.
Kaja’s a competitive swimmer.
He could make state champ.
He likes music like you.
Back then... Were you married?
Back then...
I wanted a divorce.
Would you visit me?
Jana?
You asleep?
“Ota, I’m not the nurturing type.
I’d devour you.
Thanks for changing
my tire back then.
Forgive me. I am who I am. Jana.”
-Dad? Get up.
-Jenda...
C’mon. I’ll take your bag. C’mon.
I got a lecture on how much
an exam with that machine costs.
The wait is months’ long.
And you vanish.
-Excuse me. I was called to audition.
-Your name?
-Furtakova, Jana.
-Furtak... Yeah, Furtakova. Got it.
Your number. Here’s a pin.
Done film work before?
Before you were born, love.
Did you quit cleaning?
Half a vacation day wasted.
Please use your drops.
-Jenda, turn left.
-I know the way. -I said turn left!
Use your drops, Dad!
What was that?
What’re you doing? Are you insane?
-I said to turn left.
-Realize what could’ve happened?
For God’s sake, Dad!
You could’ve killed us!
-Do you ever think?
-I think too much. So do you!
I have something to finish in Prague.
No, you have to go home and
concentrate on your health. You have to!
Every day you ask
if there’s something I need.
Finally when I do...
-...you’re chicken shit.
-Chicken shit? -Yup.
-Did I hear you right?
-Yup.
OK, then.
114!
C’mon.
-My make-up OK?
-Looks fine. -Thank you.
Please come closer. Come closer.
Here. Stand in the light.
On this mark. Yes, on this mark.
Mrs Furtakova is playing the role of
grandmother. She has film experience.
Yes. Extensive.
This is Director Wikl,
his assistant, the cameraman.
The producers are over there.
Who’s this dinosaur?
The agency called everyone born
before 1950. It’s what you wanted.
My husband has cancer.
I wake up terrified.
I check to see if he’s still breathing.
We both know he barely
has a month to live.
Understand, doctor?
A month to say
goodbye to your beloved.
I lack the strength
to handle it alone.
OK?
-Can we try our script?
-Of course. Anything.
-You are the grandmother. -Yes.
-It’s page 3. -OK.
Careful.
It’s pronounced “gan-dja.”
Thanks, dear.
I was smoking pot when
your Mom was in diapers.
Whatever.
May I?
Last night before bed
I tried Dad’s gandja.
Mom?
Yup. It was incredible. Really.
-I should’ve believed him.
-Did you feel anything?
Suddenly everything
began to make sense.
The years came together
like a Gordian knot of fate.
That’s a mistake.
No, it’s not. Gordian knot.
In reference to Alexander the Great.
That’s not old lady talk.
I should know.
We don’t tie Gordian knots.
That’s nonsense.
Who wrote this crap?
The director wrote the script.
Your husband smoked
marijuana for pain relief.
He grew close to his grandson
who sold him the drug.
He sold it to his grandpa?
Yes.
Mrs Furtakova, that’s all.
Thank you and...
-I can play it different.
-It’s on film. It’s OK. Thank you.
-We’ll call you.
-We can try something else.
Whatever you want. I traveled halfway
across the country for this role.
You can’t be through
with me in one minute!
What next?
How old are you really?
Sixty-five.
Just like you want.
Forget about that.
How old are you?
Seventy-six.
Take off your wig.
Thanks, but you’re too old for the role.
Send in the next one.
Come on.
Excuse me! C’mon.
Some winners today...
-Wait, Dad. I’ll help you.
-OK.
-Shouldn’t I go with you?
-No, I have to do this myself.
You haven’t seen
the last of me. Promise.
-I like you better when you know what
you’re doing. -It’s all figured out.
There’s only one unknown left.
I never thought I’d take
my own father on a date.
I wanted to tell you.
Marta’s a bit...
-A bit bossy?
-You’re right.
Men find that helpful.
OK.
-You an extra?
-I’m looking for Mrs Furtakova.
-Was she here?
-Furtakova. Yes. She was upset.
-Upset?
-Yes.
We wanted to call someone,
but she ran away. To the train.
-Is there a station here?
-Down by the river.
Jana!
Mrs Furtakova!
Jana! Are you here?
Go away!
You can’t see me like this.
I need to talk to you.
I don’t care for
your rules and lessons.
I’m going to jump
and it’ll all be over.
I didn’t say why I came to see you.
Did, too. You want a nurse and cook.
-No!
-I don’t care.
I’m even too old
to play an old lady.
I have a role for you.
I chose you because
you’re the best of all.
No, I’m not. I never will be.
Find someone else.
Statistically you’re
the only actress my age.
-Only?
-Yes.
What role?
I told my son we were involved.
Us two?
Yeah.
Come pretend we’re a couple
so I can live in my home.
It’s important.
Can you handle it?
What will I wear?
Whatever you want.
Can I swear?
A little. Yes.
You lost this.
-Come down.
-No.
Throw it to me! And don’t look.
Only the undertaker
will see me like this.
No, no! Ota!
Lord, eternal peace
and eternal light.
May she rest in holy peace. Amen.
Amen.
Isn’t it awful?
All my patients end up here.
She lived to a ripe old age.
Next time she might
choose the same thing.
I’ll miss her.
Can you give me a lift?
I’m parked downtown.
-Gladly.
-Mrs Furtakova didn’t come.
-Any idea how she is?
-She doesn’t go to funerals as a rule.
She wants to look
forward to her own.
What do you want?
Comedy? Drama? Tragedy?
-Not tragedy.
-I decided to start in moderato.
Jana, I...
How do you like my hair?
It’s called “rebel.”
Cost two thousand. Relax, Ota.
That brings bad luck.
You’ll see. They’ll eat it up.
A good actor always
stays in character.
And I’m the best.
In the 70s I acted
a lot in the States.
You might know me
from the theater.
Ota’s told me a lot about you.
-You swim competitively.
-Me? No.
-Our son swims.
-I thought so.
We always had a pool.
In San Francisco we could see
clear to the Golden Bridge.
Is this Paris?
No, no. That’s Greece.
You can tell by the houses...
-You didn’t tell her, did you?
-No. -Prague Castle.
Oh... Well...
-You look wonderful.
-Thanks. I bought a new wardrobe.
-Bon appetite!
-Enjoy!
I’ll cut it for you.
Life with Dad won’t be easy.
It will take lots of patience
until he gets used to it.
-Stop exaggerating.
-Here.
-He already manages lots of things
on his own. -Yes.
When are you moving in?
Moving in?
Dad said you’d stay with him the first
few weeks. That’ll help him a lot.
Wait! There’s been
a misunderstanding.
Mrs Furtakova!
Sorry, Ota. I thought bigger of you.
That you had the courage
to tell me the truth.
You wanted a relationship.
Now it’s just a few weeks?
If I’m to take care of you
we have to train the dog.
That’s expensive.
Maybe the children can help.
I’ll get my driver’s license.
You’ll be surprised, Ota.
In American I saw
blind people parachuting.
What a blessing! We don’t have to look
at the world at our age.
We’ll put a handrail
up in the bathroom.
I don’t know.
Do you really want this one?
-If it has a radio.
-Just a tape deck, sir.
-It’s a piece of junk.
-Fifteen and it’s yours.
Are you crazy? For that jalopy?
-OK. Eight.
-We’ll take it.
“To Ota With Respect”
We just bought a pile of metal.
-Best car I ever owned. You’ll see.
-I can’t see shit.
Don’t be scared chicken shit.
Chicken shit?
You’re improving.
Wait...
Like I said. Old but dependable.
-Put it in second.
-Keep quiet.
-Where to?
-I’ll tell you where to go.
Leave the swearing to me.
Ministry of Culture
Film Industry Support Program
The Czech State Fund
for Czech Cinematography
“To Ota
With Respect, Jeanne”
-Hello.
-Hi. One sec.
We’re here, Dad.
I’m winding the tape.
Machine ate it.
-You have the CD.
-The sound isn’t so good...
You wanted to do this yourself.
C’mon. They’re waiting.
Let’s go.
Wait.
Wait.
Cane.
-That your car?
-No, Dad’s.
Sign here.
-We can drive it in the woods.
-You promised not to make trouble.
I’m glad I’m almost blind.
Here’s a towel. Soap. Marta will
make room in the bathroom for you.
It’s too soft.
I’m used to my couch.
These two shelves are yours.
I won’t be able to sleep.
Whose idea was this? Hers?
Who cares?
-Are you that afraid of her?
-Come eat. It’s ready!
Please, Dad. It’s just a few months.
-Here’s your cane.
-A few months?
Hang on, Jenda.
You said two weeks.
The operation takes 52 minutes.
Want a spoon?
-I’ve got cataracts. Not dementia!
-Don’t yell at me.
The doctor said it
was a serious operation.
I know exactly what he said.
Mr Karhanek expected help.
He went blind instead.
His retina was damaged.
That’s different. It’s necessary.
And risky. You want me crippled.
-Come on.
-My sight’s fine!
Take me home.
Please sit down. It’s suppertime.
I’m not hungry. I want to go home.
Kaja’s at your place now.
-What? He’s at sports camp.
-Don’t be childish.
Jenda and I can’t drive
across town every day.
-You can’t even see your pills.
-I never asked you to!
You can’t cook with bandaged eyes.
Who cares where you stay?
You’ll be here.
Kaja will be there. He’ll study.
-He’ll house sit.
-Right.
Oh.
Calm down! You’ve slept here a lot.
This is exactly
what I didn’t want.
We knew he’d move in someday.
You have to get used to it.
He’s unbearable.
We’ll go crazy!
I’d so love to do
this for my parents.
May I?
You shouldn’t read.
When should I look at it?
When they blind me?
-What are you missing?
-Privacy.
Shut the door.
I can’t play the radio
or have guests.
No one visits you.
What if I meet someone?
Do I seat them
under this poster?
You’ve lived alone fifteen years.
Now you plan to meet someone?
Precisely.
Goodnight.
If I’m going to burden anyone
it certainly won’t be her.
Find a loving nurse. Or two.
Then I’ll take you home.
“Nursing Home”
Mrs Furtakova?
Mrs Furtakova, open up!
Unlock the door
or I’ll call maintenance.
-Who’s there?
-You know full well!
It’s past lights out.
Where’d you get the keys?
We have to lock up. Lots of thefts here.
Tell me if you lose anything. OK?
The water’s off upstairs.
Mrs Jizna’s moving in.
-No way!
-It’s the only bed left.
My grandson pays
for a private room.
We haven’t been paid
since your husband died.
That can’t be!
We’ll resolve this in the morning.
Mrs Jizna needs a bed.
No smoking in the room.
Cross this line and I’ll have to fight.
Mrs Bezouskova’s been robbed
three times in her sleep.
Mrs Mazdrova was raped.
-First I hear of this.
-This isn’t the first floor, dear.
It’s the basement. You’d be amazed
what goes on here.
Here?
Someone roams the halls
checking we’re asleep.
Mrs Kadlecova saw
that guy with the axe.
Axe?
People go missing here.
-Who does that?
-Who do you think? Guess!
Who’d benefit if beds
were available here?
That’s awful.
Go to sleep. I’ll be up anyway.
Do you take medicine?
-Yes.
-Your mistake.
They add in drugs. Morphine mostly.
Morphine?
When they stop you’ll gladly
give them your pension.
Good night.
Warm that up!
You should still be asleep.
-The bed’s too soft.
-Please come here.
Come inside or you’ll catch cold.
-Yes?
-Does Dad have hygiene issues?
That’s horrible!
He’s doing it on purpose.
He knows you hate it.
If he wants me
to throw him out, he’s wrong.
He followed school rules for his whole
life. He can follow our rules, too.
Once you hire a nurse
you can even shave in bed.
Until then do as we do. OK?
I know a crystal well
Deep in the woods
C’mon, Blaha! Again.
I know a crystal well
Deep in the woods
Dark ferns grow there
Red briars all around
Birds and deer go to drink
Beneath the maple tree
The birds...
For God’s...
Can’t you play three bars in a row?
Krpalkova, is your hearing aid on?
Guess not.
You’re missing every other beat.
Ba ba ba boom!
Ba ba ba boom!
Not boom, boom, boom, boom.
That’s vesper bells.
I’m reciting a poem
if you didn’t notice. Blaha!
Why can’t you keep time?
You were a postal worker.
Ba ba ba and stamp!
Stamp! Stamp!
It’s easy!
You can do music and theater
well into your hundreds.
Try harder.
Our concert’s a month away
and you could care less!
-I’m tone deaf, Janicka.
-Nonsense.
Know how many professional
musicians are tone-deaf?
-No.
-Nearly all of them.
Music is here inside. It’s harmony.
Who but us should
have harmony inside?
-Mrs Furtakova...
-Later. We’re rehearsing.
The head nurse wants you.
Can’t it wait? We finish at half past.
Sit down, Mrs Furtakova.
The doctor ordered you a cane.
I don’t need it.
We’ll be up all night with you
if you bruise your ribs again.
Here’s a complaint
about your courses.
Mr Pihrt again?
From Mr Vratek’s son
and Mrs Simicova.
Their grandparents’
fingers were bruised.
They got that from
the film “Witch Hammer.”
Mr Faltys made thumb screws
out of a French crutch.
He’s an engineer.
You force Mr Zdrahal
to drink raw eggs.
Ever hear him sing?
He has five octaves.
He must care for his voice.
This is a nursing home. Not Art School.
You want us to lie in bed
and pop pills?
No, my clients need rest.
We’ll rest soon enough.
You plan to shoot
Mr Pihrt out of a cannon.
He wants to play
Baron Munchhausen.
He insists.
Are the beds made?
I want to finish up.
Your courses end today.
I can’t wait until
someone has a stroke.
I won’t let you!
I’m in charge here.
Our clients need rest.
Then I’m leaving.
Mrs Furtakova!
Your husband died.
Your son lives abroad.
It’s been three years
since your grandson visited.
Where will you go?
No more rumors about
the guy with the axe!
-Long live Magic School!
-Hip hip! Hooray...
Hi, everyone! Hi, Frantisek...
The number you dialed
has been disconnected.
“To Ota
with Respect, Jeanne”
Hi!
-Here, lady.
-Good.
Thanks.
Here.
Where’s the 100?
“Minister of Culture, Prague Castle”
I’m here, Dad.
I hope you’re ready.
The eye clinic closes at 12.
Hear me?
Dad?
Mrs Furtakova!
Mrs Furtakova!
Have you seen her?
I’ll head to the gate.
You check the park.
Thanks.
Mrs Furtakova!
Mrs Furtakova!
Janicka!
Janicka!
Lunchtime!
Mrs Furtakova!
Sweet Jesus!
He’s asking for you. Inspection
by the Ministry of Culture.
Again? Don’t they have
anything better to do?
-Hello.
-Hello. I’m Wagner.
-Let’s go to the office.
-I’m looking for this woman.
Then you’re not from the Ministry.
No, sorry.
You wouldn’t have
talked to me otherwise.
I saw her in “Three Sisters.”
-Jeanne DeFuro?
-Jana Furtakova.
Outside help? How old is the photo?
Not very. About forty-five years.
Stop by my office, OK?
-Where can I find her? -The actress
hasn’t worked here in forever. Sorry.
-Hey! Hey, Mister!
-Yes?
Excuse me. I knew her. Jeanne DeFuro.
-Really?
-She emigrated to the US after 1968.
Right. But she came back.
Wow! I have her photo, too.
She signed mine
just “With respect.”
-Why are you looking for her?
-I want to see her.
Don’t ruin your memories.
She’ll be an old hag.
I used to look better, too.
She lived in a studio apartment
in the Lesser Town. That was long ago.
Oh.
I pumped her stomach.
-Tomorrow she’ll have a headache.
-Why not hospitalize her for a week?
No way. Look. She bit me twice.
Where does she get the energy?
She drains it from us!
She refuses medication, has crazy ideas
and attempts suicide twice yearly.
-What now?
-Who cares?
She starts and cancels
classes without asking.
-When she’s done with you
she shoots you from a canon. -Huh?
Most self-absorbed person I’ve met.
-You’ve never acted.
-Give her a sedative. I beg you.
-She’s not in pain.
-Then give me one.
Give her one max if she misbehaves.
You’re awesome.
Need a ride? I get off work soon.
No, thanks.
I drove here. Goodbye.
Goodbye.
What was that, Mrs Furtakova?
I’m sick. I can’t breathe.
“Dear Mr Minister,”
-You have no right...
-“I cannot practice the art...”
-That’s my will! Give it to the lawyer.
-“...life’s work. I am taking my life.”
“Head Nurse Aneta Malkova
is responsible for my death.”
Mrs Furtakova, I’d like
you to stop this tomfoolery.
Turning people in and such.
-I want peace here.
-You cancelled my classes.
Your?
Who started them
instead of crappy embroidery?
Why are you so nasty?
Nasty? For refusing to croak
and free up a bed?
Mrs Furtakova...
Promise to follow the rules.
Consider how old and
unhealthy the others are.
Then can the courses go on?
We’ll see.
-Anything else?
-Yes.
I want to watch TV.
My husband has cancer.
I wake up terrified
he’s stopped breathing.
-We both know he has a month
left to live. -Oh, gee. Unbelievable.
-Understand, doctor.
-You’re overacting.
A month to part
with your beloved.
You’re overacting.
I’m not strong enough
to handle it alone.
Don’t those sibilants annoy you?
The “l”!
Pihrt talks like that
when he drinks egg cognac.
Don’t torment me, Heliodor.
You know how I feel.
Rudolf is my brother.
When I was in the theater
this broad was a maid there.
That can’t be. He died in a storm
in the Cape Verde Islands.
That was her only talent!
-A lie...
-We’re watching, Mrs Furtakova.
Then watch if you can bear it.
Old hag.
-I’m afraid of you.
-Yet you love me.
-Mrs Furtakova!
-Yes. -This came today.
-Why didn’t you give it to me sooner?
-You were poisoned.
My condolences.
They invited me to audition in Prague.
Sweet Jesus! Prague?
-Yup.
-I was hospitalized there.
Did you drink the tea?
I’m going to Prague.
They invited me to an audition!
The doctor ordered
you to rest for a week.
-That is out of the question.
-Am I here voluntarily? Yes.
-I can leave when I wish.
-Of course.
-There are ten applicants waiting
for your spot. -Great. I’ll get paid.
I’ll buy an apartment.
Leave against medical advice
and you’re breaking the rules.
You’ll pay the consequences.
-Here it is!
-Really?
-Hello. -How can I help you?
-We’re looking for this woman.
-Jana Furtakova. -Yes, she lives here.
-Go back inside.
-We’d like to speak with her.
-I don’t know anyone by that name.
You two have the same name.
That witch doesn’t live here.
Neither does her brat.
-If you’re here to harass us...
-Not at all. -Fine. May I?
Goodbye.
Wait...
Jesenik.
Tell her hello.
She won’t remember.
Jesenik...
Mrs Furtakova?
Janicka?
Anything you need?
-Hello.
-Hello.
-Everything OK?
-Sure. Why is Mrs Furtakova sedated?
-Doctor’s orders.
-She had no complaints.
-Did you study medicine? -No.
-She was poisoned and needs rest.
If she refuses, it’s up to us.
People are waiting
for theater group.
Groups are cancelled. It’s on the board.
Thomas Berhodi
“Murders After Dark”
She hasn’t talked since last night.
She could be angry with me
because of the letter.
-Mrs Furtakova needs rest. -OK.
-Don’t you have physical therapy?
-Yes.
-Run along. -OK.
-I want to go to the audition.
-In your condition?
There’ll be others. You’ll see.
Now it’s time to rest.
We’re all going to rest.
Admitting is upstairs.
Where are your bags?
-I’m a visitor.
-Visiting hours start at three.
Sorry, but my bus is leaving.
The patient’s name?
-Jeanne DeFuro.
-Excuse me?
Jana Furtakova. She’s supposedly here.
-Are you a relative?
-No.
-That a problem?
-“Nursing Home”
Sir, wait!
Over here...
-You here for Mrs Furtakova?
-They say she’s sick.
You’re her first visitor
in three years.
Can it wait until twelve?
The head nurse is going downtown.
He left home in the morning.
How old is the child?
Seventy-nine.
It’s my Dad.
He has poor vision
and needs assistance.
We’re worried.
Hang on.
Copy.
Hi.
Sure, certainly. Around four.
She’s out of it,
but she can hear you.
You have a visitor,
Mrs Furtakova.
Here.
-Why are you staring?
-I...
You new here?
I’m Ota.
Remember me?
No.
I found your photo in my car.
Car?
Jeanne DeFuro.
No one’s called me
that in thirty years.
I thought it’d be nice if you were
hitchhiking wearing this corset.
You wouldn’t be so excited now.
Would too. I have bad eyesight.
I’m a piece of shit.
I’am vulgar.
Does it bother you?
No. Yes. A little.
I taught high school for forty years.
I’d demand fifty push-ups
for some words.
Start counting.
Oh shit!
Trouble. Big trouble. Come with me.
-Come here.
-Can you help me?
-How?
-Wait by the gate at nine.
-I’ll explain later.
-OK. -Come on!
-Darn!
-What? -Come here.
I forgot my wallet.
I need memory pills, too.
Your shift ends at half past.
I won’t pay overtime.
-Dad, where are you?
-In Jesenik. -Marta and I...
-I met someone.
-In Jesenik?
What are you doing? Your operation
is in five days. It’s no joke.
I’m using my drops
and I have my pills.
Calm down.
You plan everything months in advance.
Now you’re 400 km away!
I’m taking a look in case it fails.
No, Dad. You can’t do that.
Hear me? Dad!
He has a date.
There.
Good girl. How do you feel?
I knew we could get along.
Good night.
-Good night, Mrs Jizna.
-Good night.
-Say it again.
-Mrs Furtakova is ill today.
She’ll be resting all afternoon.
Right. Go on.
She...
She asked me to bring
her lunch to her room.
Right. Her room. I’ll forget that.
For God’s sake it’s one sentence.
I’ll write it on your hand.
You could never even be an extra.
Here are some rollers.
You can keep them.
They’re from Las Vegas.
You’ve got to do
something with your hair.
-What film are you in?
-It doesn’t...
-Mrs Furtakova?
-Put that away!
Sorry...
-I didn’t think you were coming.
-Feeling better?
The gate is locked
at eight like a zoo.
I have to get to you.
Wait. Look...
For God’s sake
what are you doing?
You’ll see. It’ll work. Wait.
Now this...
Darned fence. It’s like a prison.
Do you know “fire extinguisher”?
-What’s that?
-I taught it at school.
Roll your torso over the obstacle.
You get half your body over.
The other half rolls over the top.
Land on your lower limbs.
-In Czech?
-Excuse me?
Bend over...
Get your leg over it.
-It doesn’t work.
-It has to.
-Use your center of gravity.
-Mine’s gone. -I see...
Hang on. Here...
Here...
Anything broken?
Your cane.
Hang on.
Jesus. It’s the Valium.
-What’s it for?
-Oh, please...
It’s punishment.
The door’s always locked.
Leave the swearing to me.
-Where’s your car?
-What car?
You mentioned a car. The photo...
-I took the train.
-Hell’s bells...
Why didn’t
you tell me right away?
Wait. Take this. Wait here.
What’s wrong? Let’s go.
I need to be in Prague by morning.
-Prague?
-I have an audition.
We have to be back
by six for supper.
-I can’t do that. -Why did you come
here if you’re chicken shit?
-Chicken shit?
-Aren’t you?
I have cataracts.
I can’t see at night.
This could only happen to me.
When I need help
they send a cripple.
Sorry. I didn’t mean that.
The audition means a lot to me.
I got a personal invitation.
Let’s go by train.
It takes a few hours.
Like an extra? Hop in.
I’ll drive.
-You’re medicated, Mrs Furtakova.
-What can they do?
Revoke your license.
How? I don’t have one.
I taught children to obey
rules for forty years.
High time you quit.
-What’s your name?
-Ota. -Ota...
This film’s my most important
venture in thirty years.
Got it?
Start her up.
Shit!
-Press the clutch.
-Why didn’t you say so?
-Turn on the lights.
-They’re on.
-What’s he doing? -He has the right
of way. Read the signs.
They go by too fast!
Go straight 3.5 km,
then turn right.
Then go straight for 800 meters
and then turn right again.
Don’t tell me to turn
10 km down the road.
-I’m watching the map.
-It won’t go anywhere.
Entertain me. What do you usually do?
-Usually?
-Yeah.
I taught starting at 8.
I still get up at 6.
At 7:30 I make breakfast. I take my
pills. Sometimes my blood pressure.
Not your medical record.
I get that every day.
Something exciting.
What’s your worst fear?
I’ve been reading
mystery novels lately.
I fear I’ll end up
bedridden like my Dad.
-So I came to see you.
-Can you see a radio?
-No.
-Pity.
We could’ve listened to music.
A light just came on.
-What? Where?
-Here. See? What is that?
It’s orange. This one here.
-Orange, eh? -Yup.
-That’s the fuel light.
-Already?
Damn.
We’ll reach an intersection
then we go straight.
It’s a dead end.
Where’s that gas station?
Maybe at the last exit.
Maybe? Definitely.
Fuck! Now you did it!
-I said it was faster by train.
-Now you proved it.
It’s not my fault.
Who said there was a station
at the end of this goat path?
-Did you teach geography?
-I’ll get a tractor. -Please. Stay put.
I won’t go looking
for you in these hills.
-I’m sorry.
-I know.
Someone might
give us a lift.
You don’t have to come with me.
I’ve held you up all night.
-I’ll manage on my own.
-I’m glad I can still help.
Back then you didn’t
want anything at first either.
Would you walk faster at least?
Sure, but my cane broke.
-And then...
-Well, what?
You got a flat
near the campground.
-Right front tire.
-Flat tire, huh?
-You were rushing to Krumlov.
-Oh. I see.
That was where
it all happened.
Higher!
Stay behind the line.
And smile.
I never hitch-hiked
or picked anyone up.
It’s actually freeloading.
It’s not my fault no one
drives in this country.
Come on. That’s it.
I hitchhiked across
the entire USA.
-My husband has cancer.
-Sorry to hear that.
I’m working.
I have to prepare a monologue.
They always want one.
Sorry.
I wake up terrified
he’s stopped breathing.
We both know he only
has one month to live.
So? What do you think?
You’re not listening.
I doubt we’ll get a ride.
Not a car in sight.
I said two hitchhikers
are too many.
-They pick up young people.
-Nonsense.
No one picks up two hitchhikers.
They chat with each other.
You pick up
hitchhikers for fun.
If I were alone
I’d be on my way.
I hear you. Go ahead.
Come on. You aren’t in a hurry.
You can stop someone else.
Don’t worry.
Thanks. Are you going to Prague?
Everything OK?
-Do you need an ambulance?
-Ambulance?
My husband has cancer.
I wake up terrified
he’s stopped breathing.
Where’s he going?
To oncology.
What did you tell them?
That they take us both
or I refuse to go.
-Thank you.
-It’s always the same.
The girl smiles
and the light goes on.
So you changed my tire
and I autographed my picture.
No, that was later. At night.
I see.
Thank you.
Pity their beat ends here.
They’d have taken us to Prague.
-Here’s a yogurt.
-I hate yogurt.
They feed us yogurt
and things that wash easy.
My wife always had
yogurt for breakfast.
Did her a lot of good.
Sorry.
-She still eats yogurt.
-She’s still alive?
-She left you?
-Why do you think that? -No idea.
I thought your life
was too well planned.
-We all need a schedule.
-Are you a streetcar?
It was a centimeter wide.
Rubbed off on the towels.
I have no right
to lecture about marriage.
I’m twice divorced.
Three times.
I don’t count John.
That was for a visa.
No.
Last one promised me
a gig at the National Theater.
I ended up in a musical.
Men are full of promises.
They never come through.
Wouldn’t you like
to live with someone?
What’re those pills for?
This one’s for my heart.
For my blood. This is for my eyes.
This one... The green one is...
-For your memory, right?
-Perhaps.
-Don’t you take medication?
-Never voluntarily.
I learn texts to exercise my memory.
I see.
Hurry or we’ll miss it!
I bought a newspaper.
I’m not allowed
to read them at home.
Oh.
How old do I look? Be honest.
They’re looking for
a woman around sixty.
You’d pass for less.
Good. Clever approach.
Did you ever flatter
your wife like that?
I still had my sight.
My wife taught
chemistry and physics.
-So? -She didn’t care
about her appearance.
Bull. A woman’s image in the mirror
is her only physical quantifier.
They gave me parts
based on my looks.
So you weren’t sick?
Of course. I’m seventy-five.
Most people die
within ten years of that.
Jana?
Do you remember me?
Darn.
What happened?
Darn...
What the...
Sorry. We can’t go any further.
Someone jumped under the train.
So much for your trains!
You live in a fantasy.
Train travel in this country
is only for thrill-seekers.
We should wait like the rest.
I can’t wait until they pry
some wretch off the tracks.
Why didn’t he jump in the river?
It keeps going.
Hold the umbrella
so my face doesn’t smear.
What time is it?
That lady in Prague
said you were nasty.
-Who said you could go there?
-I was looking for you.
She lives in my apartment.
Does that make me nasty?
That she turned my son
and grandson against me?
Did you ask who’s been paying
the rent the last twenty years? Did you?
Everything thinks
I’m just a nasty, old lady.
-Not me.
-You do, too!
The good thing about old age
is you can be honest.
So I told her.
I’ll get you to Prague.
Promise.
We’re going to Prague.
Mrs Furtakova
gave me the rollers. Honest.
I didn’t steal them.
That isn’t important. It’s OK.
Does she know anything?
Nothing before 20 years.
Vacation?
Something like that.
I drove a truck once.
Most old hitchhikers
come from Holland.
I drove one old geezer
all the way to Cheb.
He forgot he wanted
to get out in Utrecht.
Don’t worry. I’ve driven lots of folks.
-What’re you doing?
-Coffee. Want some?
-You’d better drive.
-Relax.
The grooves in the road to Zamberk
are so deep we won’t even budge.
-Making coffee.
-Yup.
Road repairs near Rychnov.
Better take the route
from Litomysl to Chrudim.
Will do. Thanks. I owe you one.
In Australia touch the wheel
and you lose your fingers.
-He knows what he’s doing.
-Taking risks.
-I make coffee here every week.
-It’s against the rules!
More than two people
in the cab is against the rules.
-Yeah?
-Yeah. -Then let us out.
As you wish.
Are you crazy? Old tarts are strutting
their stuff in Prague already.
-I’m stuck in East Bumfuck!
-Let’s take the bus.
-Wait for us.
-Sure.
You’re making me late.
Once you changed my tire.
There were lots of tires.
I won’t let a grumpy old man
ruin my last chance.
Understand?
I called Prague. She missed the casting.
A man visited her yesterday.
-It might be a coincidence, but...
-What did he look like?
Seventy-ish.
Grey hair,
dark jacket, medium build.
-When?
-About noon.
-Doctor... -What happened?
-Furtakova flew the coop.
The lumberjacks
found our car in a ditch.
Christ! Was she drugged up?
-Excuse me. What time was it?
-Around noon. -Noon.
I wanted a few days of peace.
In a way I like the old hag.
The first day they invite
second-rate actors anyway.
I’ve never burdened anyone.
I don’t plan to start now.
You sound like a child.
You can’t bear the fact
someone could still want me.
I’m going home. They’ll put
my eyes out and then I’ll die.
Bravo!
OK. I went too far calling
you a grumpy old man.
Not at all. You got it right.
-I thought I could change.
-You can change anything!
But I can’t. I’m a boring old teacher.
Even back then I bored you.
-Did I say that?
-It’s true.
Pay now. ID in the morning.
-We want two rooms.
-We’re full.
-Any other hotels nearby?
-Nope.
I could get you
a younger one for the same price.
I like her.
-I want the bed by the window.
-Fine.
-Could be worse.
-Wish I had your vision.
-Well. We’ll survive one night.
-Sure we will.
May I?
Sure.
-Like the blues?
-No. Too sad.
We played this for twenty years.
Care to dance?
-Don’t be crazy. I need sleep.
-You said I was boring.
-OK, then.
-Yes.
Ota?
What happened
at the campground?
You came back after the show.
-My tent was by the river.
-Bet I was drunk.
Just tipsy.
I did lots of stupid things.
Keep up!
In my car it plays slower.
-Ouch.
-Sorry.
I should teach dancing.
If you need somewhere to stay
my apartment’s pretty nice.
We’ll never mention this again.
You asleep?
Here?
You never hear this
at the old folks’ home.
It’s taking forever.
-How big is yours?
-What?
Your flat.
-Two rooms.
-Kitchen?
I only cook supper.
I eat lunch in
the school cafeteria.
I approve. I never liked cooking.
You’ll like my son.
He’s boring like me.
Otherwise he’s bright.
He could’ve done better.
Kaja’s a competitive swimmer.
He could make state champ.
He likes music like you.
Back then... Were you married?
Back then...
I wanted a divorce.
Would you visit me?
Jana?
You asleep?
“Ota, I’m not the nurturing type.
I’d devour you.
Thanks for changing
my tire back then.
Forgive me. I am who I am. Jana.”
-Dad? Get up.
-Jenda...
C’mon. I’ll take your bag. C’mon.
I got a lecture on how much
an exam with that machine costs.
The wait is months’ long.
And you vanish.
-Excuse me. I was called to audition.
-Your name?
-Furtakova, Jana.
-Furtak... Yeah, Furtakova. Got it.
Your number. Here’s a pin.
Done film work before?
Before you were born, love.
Did you quit cleaning?
Half a vacation day wasted.
Please use your drops.
-Jenda, turn left.
-I know the way. -I said turn left!
Use your drops, Dad!
What was that?
What’re you doing? Are you insane?
-I said to turn left.
-Realize what could’ve happened?
For God’s sake, Dad!
You could’ve killed us!
-Do you ever think?
-I think too much. So do you!
I have something to finish in Prague.
No, you have to go home and
concentrate on your health. You have to!
Every day you ask
if there’s something I need.
Finally when I do...
-...you’re chicken shit.
-Chicken shit? -Yup.
-Did I hear you right?
-Yup.
OK, then.
114!
C’mon.
-My make-up OK?
-Looks fine. -Thank you.
Please come closer. Come closer.
Here. Stand in the light.
On this mark. Yes, on this mark.
Mrs Furtakova is playing the role of
grandmother. She has film experience.
Yes. Extensive.
This is Director Wikl,
his assistant, the cameraman.
The producers are over there.
Who’s this dinosaur?
The agency called everyone born
before 1950. It’s what you wanted.
My husband has cancer.
I wake up terrified.
I check to see if he’s still breathing.
We both know he barely
has a month to live.
Understand, doctor?
A month to say
goodbye to your beloved.
I lack the strength
to handle it alone.
OK?
-Can we try our script?
-Of course. Anything.
-You are the grandmother. -Yes.
-It’s page 3. -OK.
Careful.
It’s pronounced “gan-dja.”
Thanks, dear.
I was smoking pot when
your Mom was in diapers.
Whatever.
May I?
Last night before bed
I tried Dad’s gandja.
Mom?
Yup. It was incredible. Really.
-I should’ve believed him.
-Did you feel anything?
Suddenly everything
began to make sense.
The years came together
like a Gordian knot of fate.
That’s a mistake.
No, it’s not. Gordian knot.
In reference to Alexander the Great.
That’s not old lady talk.
I should know.
We don’t tie Gordian knots.
That’s nonsense.
Who wrote this crap?
The director wrote the script.
Your husband smoked
marijuana for pain relief.
He grew close to his grandson
who sold him the drug.
He sold it to his grandpa?
Yes.
Mrs Furtakova, that’s all.
Thank you and...
-I can play it different.
-It’s on film. It’s OK. Thank you.
-We’ll call you.
-We can try something else.
Whatever you want. I traveled halfway
across the country for this role.
You can’t be through
with me in one minute!
What next?
How old are you really?
Sixty-five.
Just like you want.
Forget about that.
How old are you?
Seventy-six.
Take off your wig.
Thanks, but you’re too old for the role.
Send in the next one.
Come on.
Excuse me! C’mon.
Some winners today...
-Wait, Dad. I’ll help you.
-OK.
-Shouldn’t I go with you?
-No, I have to do this myself.
You haven’t seen
the last of me. Promise.
-I like you better when you know what
you’re doing. -It’s all figured out.
There’s only one unknown left.
I never thought I’d take
my own father on a date.
I wanted to tell you.
Marta’s a bit...
-A bit bossy?
-You’re right.
Men find that helpful.
OK.
-You an extra?
-I’m looking for Mrs Furtakova.
-Was she here?
-Furtakova. Yes. She was upset.
-Upset?
-Yes.
We wanted to call someone,
but she ran away. To the train.
-Is there a station here?
-Down by the river.
Jana!
Mrs Furtakova!
Jana! Are you here?
Go away!
You can’t see me like this.
I need to talk to you.
I don’t care for
your rules and lessons.
I’m going to jump
and it’ll all be over.
I didn’t say why I came to see you.
Did, too. You want a nurse and cook.
-No!
-I don’t care.
I’m even too old
to play an old lady.
I have a role for you.
I chose you because
you’re the best of all.
No, I’m not. I never will be.
Find someone else.
Statistically you’re
the only actress my age.
-Only?
-Yes.
What role?
I told my son we were involved.
Us two?
Yeah.
Come pretend we’re a couple
so I can live in my home.
It’s important.
Can you handle it?
What will I wear?
Whatever you want.
Can I swear?
A little. Yes.
You lost this.
-Come down.
-No.
Throw it to me! And don’t look.
Only the undertaker
will see me like this.
No, no! Ota!
Lord, eternal peace
and eternal light.
May she rest in holy peace. Amen.
Amen.
Isn’t it awful?
All my patients end up here.
She lived to a ripe old age.
Next time she might
choose the same thing.
I’ll miss her.
Can you give me a lift?
I’m parked downtown.
-Gladly.
-Mrs Furtakova didn’t come.
-Any idea how she is?
-She doesn’t go to funerals as a rule.
She wants to look
forward to her own.
What do you want?
Comedy? Drama? Tragedy?
-Not tragedy.
-I decided to start in moderato.
Jana, I...
How do you like my hair?
It’s called “rebel.”
Cost two thousand. Relax, Ota.
That brings bad luck.
You’ll see. They’ll eat it up.
A good actor always
stays in character.
And I’m the best.
In the 70s I acted
a lot in the States.
You might know me
from the theater.
Ota’s told me a lot about you.
-You swim competitively.
-Me? No.
-Our son swims.
-I thought so.
We always had a pool.
In San Francisco we could see
clear to the Golden Bridge.
Is this Paris?
No, no. That’s Greece.
You can tell by the houses...
-You didn’t tell her, did you?
-No. -Prague Castle.
Oh... Well...
-You look wonderful.
-Thanks. I bought a new wardrobe.
-Bon appetite!
-Enjoy!
I’ll cut it for you.
Life with Dad won’t be easy.
It will take lots of patience
until he gets used to it.
-Stop exaggerating.
-Here.
-He already manages lots of things
on his own. -Yes.
When are you moving in?
Moving in?
Dad said you’d stay with him the first
few weeks. That’ll help him a lot.
Wait! There’s been
a misunderstanding.
Mrs Furtakova!
Sorry, Ota. I thought bigger of you.
That you had the courage
to tell me the truth.
You wanted a relationship.
Now it’s just a few weeks?
If I’m to take care of you
we have to train the dog.
That’s expensive.
Maybe the children can help.
I’ll get my driver’s license.
You’ll be surprised, Ota.
In American I saw
blind people parachuting.
What a blessing! We don’t have to look
at the world at our age.
We’ll put a handrail
up in the bathroom.
I don’t know.
Do you really want this one?
-If it has a radio.
-Just a tape deck, sir.
-It’s a piece of junk.
-Fifteen and it’s yours.
Are you crazy? For that jalopy?
-OK. Eight.
-We’ll take it.
“To Ota With Respect”
We just bought a pile of metal.
-Best car I ever owned. You’ll see.
-I can’t see shit.
Don’t be scared chicken shit.
Chicken shit?
You’re improving.
Wait...
Like I said. Old but dependable.
-Put it in second.
-Keep quiet.
-Where to?
-I’ll tell you where to go.
Leave the swearing to me.