One Eye Red (2007) - full transcript
Halim, a young boy who tries to find himself after the death of his mother.
Hi mum. I'm just chillin'a bit.
Thinking deep thoughts and stuff.
Like how many proverbs there are
about home in Sweden.
"Home, sweetest home, "
"There's no place as wicked as home"-
-and "My home is a huge castle."
You talked about home.
You said that whenever I got lost
I would always find my way home.
These are wonderings in my head,
because really... What is home?
Mum!
You were the most beautiful,
best-cooking mum in the world.
You could have any man you wanted-
-and you chose
the most ultimate dude.
Dad! The wickedest businessman
and international champion of dance.
You were like a bird,
and dad was more like a camel.
But with the hump on his belly.
Now!
What we have all been waiting for.
Ladies and gentlemen,
the best son of all time and places.
Here is Halim!
Help me out here.
-You sweat massively.
-Yes.
-Fit people sweat a lot.
-Fat people sweat a lot.
I'm not fat.
What are you laughing at?
Stop it. - Bloody lift.
Here... I found it at the market.
It's a notebook.
You can use it to keep a diary.
But you have to write in Swedish.
Pull in your stomach
and make room for me.
Abou yao.
Now we'll be stuck here forever.
Don't worry, my son.
There you go.
You can't trust Swedish lifts.
Right, but you can trust
an old woman with snake eyes.
Thanks.
-Why can't you let her be?
-She's an old, crazy racist.
You make me tired sometimes.
Mum?
Mum?
What's going on?
-What happened?
-I can't get up.
-What's happened?
-I can't get up.
Try again. Read it from here.
-"Do you like...?"
-"Do you like?"
El Boustani?
Hallo.
Now we have received
all your test results.
Unfortunately we can now
confirm our initial suspicions.
You're suffering
from amyotrophic lateral sclerosis.
-What does that mean?
-It's a neuromuscular disease.
It causes your muscles to weaken
and stop functioning.
Medication will slow down
the degeneration-
-but unfortunately
there is no cure.
You will experience
more and more symptoms-
-such as your limbs going numb.
You will also start feeling weaker.
You said that if I ever get lost-
-I should always return to the place
where we last saw each other.
It could be a tree in the forest or
the fruit section in the supermarket.
But if that place no longer exists...
If the person I'm looking for
no longer exists...
Where do I go?
ONE EYE RED
Why are we moving?
There's no future for us here.
Those who stay here
live in the past.
Halim... You have to understand.
These suburbs are no good.
I don't want you to be
an outcast or a gangster.
You have to take part in the game.
You have to be Swedish.
-I will never be a bloody suedi.
- es, you can.
It was as if someone had programmed
dad into throwing everything away.
All memories of you and Morocco
had to go.
Wait. Let the air out first.
Listen to me, Halim.
Let the air out first.
-No.
-It's only air.
That's enough.
From now on
we leave all bad things behind.
From now on,
we only speak Swedish to each other.
Okay, Halim?
Only Swedish.
Why would you leave your home?
I understand birds
who leave the crazy cold winter.
Like the swallows who always know-
-where to fly
to get away from the cold.
But birds always come back.
Halim! Have you seen
who our neighbour is?
Bengt Magnusson - the TV star!
But dad wasn't a smartish bird,
but a confused camel.
It felt as if someone had pushed
a weird button in his head.
It wanted to forget all that
had been, and loved everything new.
Halim?
What kind of shit music is this?
Are you crazy or what?
It's called "Swedish favourites".
They play Swedish music.
Uggla-Magnus.
Anna Boken. ABBA...
-You know ABBA?
-I know who they are.
ABBA also make
sandwich filling and herring.
But dad... Abba herring is completely
different from the singing ABBA.
You can't fool your dad.
I have sold many times ABBA.
What it says?
-Abba.
- es!
-And here?
-ABBA.
There you go.
You used to say that roots mattered.
And dad would always agree.
If you'd seen him, he'd get a proper
Moroccan slipper over the head.
All he talks about
is being a Swedish businessman-
-with a proper cash register.
The new shop will sell...
Everything!
Write, Halim, with big letter.
Everything!
On bike.
On top, Halim.
Like that. Nice!
"We sell everything!"
Also, he never wants to speak
Arabic any more.
It's lucky
I have Arabic classes at school.
There you find
real knowledge and meaning.
Good, Halim, you're learning.
Promise me you will
take care of each other.
Promise, Halim.
Take care of your father.
Though winter, spring and summer
have passed-
-it seems like you were here
only moments ago.
But dad... How can he
have forgotten you already?
The way to the Swedish heart
is through the stomach.
So I have made
traditional "pytt i panna".
With chicken.
Look, it's our neighbour
Bengt Magnusson!
Why do you put four?
Hey?
Hi, Kerstin. - Hi, Zerafina.
What nice braids you have.
This is great.
Come on in.
At first, I thought it was
the cleaner or something.
Hallo.
-This is Halim. My son.
-Hi, I'm Kerstin.
Then I thought it was a cross
between a duck and a pig.
Kerstin is my teacher
in cooking class.
Thank you.
But it was worse. Duck-pig wanted
to take your place at the table-
-and make dad
listen to and eat ABBA.
TO THE SUBURBS
What's up, Halim?
I'll join you in a minute.
Taste now, pay later.
- our tomatoes are no good!
Don't listen to him.
They cost nothing - almost free!
Fresh tomatoes,
the cheapest you can find.
Hallo, my son.
Come and sit beside aunt Dalanda.
No, that's all right.
I think you need an orange.
Your thoughts are making trouble
in your beautiful head.
You're at a loss
and are trying to understand-
-how everything works
and what's wrong.
How did she know?
Because I'm Dalanda.
What a mind reader.
I told the old woman everything.
About us moving,
and how dad had changed so much.
About Kerstin who tried to take
your place at the table.
The old woman got it all.
Whatever I asked, she had answers.
Halim...
Does your father cook Swedish food?
"Pytt i panna"?
Does he watch Swedish TV?
Bengt Magnusson?
No, but he practices
Swedish culture, right?
It's the fault of the Swedes.
Their so called integration plan.
What?
The integration plan!
They're trying to Swedify us. Do you
know why you're not taught Arabic?
But I do have Arabic classes.
Soon they will stop
teaching Arabic.
They can't.
It's to do with
what the Swedes call "priorities".
Halim... Do you know
why Sweden sells us alcohol?
The government sells us alcohol-
-because they want
to change us and our customs.
They make the forms
extra hard to fill out-
-so that no immigrants
can start their own businesses.
"Come to Sweden
and clean our toilets."
-"But don't come to our nightclubs."
-We're full.
Welcome!
Do you know why the Swedes
hate immigrants-
-and their satellite dishes?
It's because the government
wants to turn us into Swedes.
Dalanda's words were like
the mightiest lava stream in my head.
Now I knew why dad had changed.
Everything is down
to the integration plan, right?
Therefore, my son,
remember your roots.
The integration plan turns him from
the mightiest Arab with hottest fire-
-into a limping camel
lost in Swedish desert.
-What happened to the old shop?
-He moved.
I'm so tired of you foreigners
who come here and spoil everything.
If he had been himself,
the old dad-
-he would have taken that drunk
and thrown him out.
He wouldn't even have talked to him.
A slap would send the suedi home.
Dad would have spoken
with Arab granite voice.
I'm sorry, I'll move it.
Come back soon.
Instead of that smiling, soft,
rubber band voice he uses for suedis.
-What the hell are you doing?
-We were celebrating sour herring.
But it's rotten.
It's forbidden to eat sour herring
in apartment blocks.
But I won't let it happen.
I want to keep my real dad.
Would Halim El Boustianimalis please
come to the headmaster's office?
-We will have to...
-...cancel the Arabic...
...classes.
It's simply a question of priorities.
Who has decided?
Dad!
They've cancelled the Arabic classes.
They've cancelled the Arabic classes.
You have to do something.
Hallo? Don't you get it?
-You're the one who doesn't get it.
-Get what?
What language do they speak
in say...Greece?
-Greek, of course.
-Good. One point.
And in France?
French - that's two points now.
-And in Sweden...
-Stop it, dad.
What was that? That's right.
In Sweden you speak Swedish, Halim.
Dalanda was right. Never!
I will never let awesome dads succumb
to their cunty integration plan.
I will never let dad read suedi
literature or be poisoned by alcohol.
I will never let crap suedi food
soil my stomach.
-What's that, mum?
-I will never drink herring schnapps.
Or dance in clogs
around a disgusting, loser maypole.
Now I see proof that
the integration plan rules society.
My eyes are more open than could be.
I see through
and break all the codes.
I see it at school, where the suedis
are divided into categories.
First, there are the posh suedis.
They hardly know what a wog is.
They have names
like Tutte, Fjutte and Noppan.
Then there are the tramp suedis with
messy hair and second-hand clothes-
-but who are always loaded
with wonga for coffee.
Then there are two types of wogs.
Number one is the gangster wog.
Also called a geezer,
hood or fiddler.
He can make a soft air gun
into a proper weapon.
Like Hristo.
Then there are the obedience wogs.
They study hard, use fancy words
and never dodge the underground fare.
They become dentists and engineers.
Like the Shirt Iranians.
But me - Halim...
I am the new type of wog, bro.
The sweatiest nightmare
of Swedish society.
The revolutionary wog.
The sultan of the mind.
So typically Swedish.
Nothing but forms and shit.
-What do you mean?
-Can't you see?
The forms are so hard that
no immigrant can start a business.
Then they want you to live
on benefits and clean their toilets.
-It's part of the integration plan.
-Really?
Tell me.
What's so great about Morocco?
Tell me about police torture,
sham democracy and Western Sahara.
-But I mean...
-Stop talking nonsense, Halim.
Help me pack the goods.
G顤an sent us
the wrong delivery again.
I ordered funny glasses
with moustache.
Instead I got this.
It wasn't a mistake by G顤an.
He's a bloody suedi.
You can't trust those
who want us out of the country.
-What did you say?
-That you can't trust...
Are you crazy?
What kind of racist bullshit is that?
Welcome to our
student democracy project.
The school board wants to give you a
chance to influence your environment.
So we have set up various councils.
The bullying council,
IT council, crafts council-
-and for you in this group,
the lunch council.
es...
The lessons to be learnt within
the democracy project framework are:
One: Freedom of speech.
Everybody has a say.
Two: All questions are equally
important, whether big or small.
-Tomato soup should be banned.
-I want triangular crisp bread.
Three: Respect the opinion of others.
Shut up, bitch.
Look at this crap.
And this, they call...
De-mo-cra-cy. Democracy!
Why don't they all shut up?
Why don't you all shut up?
But Yasmine ... That's no way
to uphold democracy.
-You have to respect their opinions.
-It's all bullshit.
In your country you might think so-
-but in Sweden
we respect everyone's opinion.
-Who are ''we"?
-All of us in this room.
Just sit back down
and let us talk about food again.
Mum... You should have seen her.
She was like the most colourful
rainbow fish in a polluted sea.
Like the nicest flower
on a stinking rubbish heap.
If felt like the whole world's
volcanic heat was inside me.
Like the thickest layer
of Tiger Balm on my chest.
Her eyes were like beautiful stars
with the wickedest shining power.
If I was the king of the struggle,
she was the queen.
Abou! What's she doing here?
Hi.
Hi.
Nice moped.
Thanks.
Nice satellite dish.
es... It's my dad's.
-He goes mad without his TV.
-I see.
What does your dad do?
-He used to be an actor.
-Then he must be well famous.
-He was when he lived in London.
-I see.
So what does he do in Sweden?
Why do you ask so much about my dad?
Why are you even here?
It's dead cool, because
you and me are almost the same.
We thought the same thing
on the lunch council.
They talked proper rubbish
with that crisp-bread democracy.
They call it democracy, but it's
really part of the integration plan.
Don't forget to bring it back later.
I've got to go. Bye!
See you!
Halim!
Halim! Think about climate change.
Don't waste water.
-Hi.
-Halim!
How are you, my child?
-How are you? I've missed you.
-I'm fine.
Tell me what you've been up to.
I've missed you.
We've started the fight
against the integration plan.
-We?
-Me and my girl.
She gave me the idea
to get a satellite dish for dad-
-to get him back to his Arabic roots.
Good. Very good.
There's strength in you.
I trust you, so I've decided-
-to give you something
that's close to my heart.
You have deserved this.
It was my father's. He wore it
when fighting the Ottomans.
You deserve this too,
and so I give it to you.
Take it, Halim. Take it.
I don't need anything like that.
I'm the sultan of the mind.
I don't need a gun.
You may not need it now-
-but the day will come.
Take it.
Take it. You are the only one
who can save your dad.
Thank you, Kerstin.
What a lovely cake. Tasty too.
It's a crap cake. Mum would
never make such a crap cake.
Dad... This is my gift to you.
With this, we can watch
Morocco, Algeria, Lebanon...
Halim... You really shouldn't have.
-How much was it?
-We'll watch Libya, Egypt, Syria...
-Can we return it?
-Don't worry. We'll put it up now.
I've got the satellite box and all.
It'll have to wait, Halim.
Kerstin and I are going to
the Swedish sing-a-long concert.
But thank you, Halim.
Cheers, Kerstin.
Suedis use the expression
"to beat someone yellow and blue".
You are either beaten yellow and blue
by the cops or by skinheads.
Or you become like dad
- yellow and blue on the inside.
But you just wait. When I'm done
with Sweden, all will be different.
We're live from Kungstr輐g緳den
where the prime minister-
-Halim the Great, our wicked
sultan of the mind and saviour-
-presents his new government.
THE NEW SWEDISH GOVERNMENT
MINISTER OF CULTURE
SOFTISH MINISTER
QUOTA-FILLING MINISTER
Soon, dad will be like Yasmine's dad,
who knows how important roots are.
It'll be twice as nice, 'cause
to girls it's really important-
-that you have loads in common
in a relationship.
Abou! Call the cops. Some bum
has broken in to Yasmine's flat.
Baba?
Is it Persbrandt again?
Oh, fuck!
Shit!
-Are you okay? Are you hurt?
-No, I'm fine.
-I got these pills for you.
-It's okay.
-Are you really okay?
-Sure. I got bad ass reflexes, yao.
-Why are you laughing?
-You talk so funny.
-"Bad ass reflexes, yao."
-Yeah, but...
In my neighbourhood
everyone talks like that.
"What's happenish?"
"softish", "wanna baz?"
What does ''wanna baz" mean?
It means "picnic".
"Do you want to go for a picnic?"
So how do you say...police?
You can say "Po-po",
"Bacon" or "Piggy".
-But how do you say mobile phone?
-"Mobilish."
-Pavement?
-"Pavementish."
-Flag?
-"Flying flagish."
You made that up.
Do you know how we say
"The prettiest girl in the world"?
-"A nice guzz." Isn't that it?
-Almost.
You say "a nice guzzilily".
-That one you made up.
-No, no. Believe me.
Your dad, by the way...
I thought he was an actor?
-Why do you ask?
-I just...
It's just that it was
a real long time since he got a part.
In Syria and London
he had a massive career.
-But it's much harder here.
-Has he never had a part?
Well... He was in a soap once.
Hot sauce? Salt on your chips?
But that's all. Seven seconds.
-Kebab seller.
-Bloody suedis.
-What?
-It's due to the integration plan.
It's because your dad
has black hair and is a wog.
If you want a part, you have to
bleach your hair and change names.
Don't worry - it's not his fault.
I might be able to help.
-Right, good luck.
-Chill out.
Don't worry, trust me. I fixish.
Abou!
-A bun?
-Thanks.
But you know, even though
Yasmine's dad is awesome-
-he doesn't get any parts 'cause
he hasn't got any damn contacts.
-Are these your final thoughts?
-Yeah.
I'm going to make a few phone calls.
Hey, listen, there's a guy, an actor-
-who really needs our help.
I've phoned a few friends
in television.
Ingmar Bergman and Bj顤n Borg.
You don't need to worry.
Yasmine's dad will get
an acting job within two weeks' time.
Thank you, bro. Thank you, Bengan.
Thank you, we've been looking
for someone like Yasmine 's dad.
Bengt, I'll screw you
if you don't open!
The premiere of "Waiting for Godot"
on Dramaten may be postponed-
-since one of the actors
broke his leg.
The theatre is searching for
a new actor to play Estragon.
We're having an audition
to get some new people in here.
Turn the movie back on.
-Turn it on!
-OK, you can watch it. Here you go.
-Stop sucking your thumb.
-Nope.
If I had had paedophilia, I might
have made a move on Zerafina.
But fortunately, Halim the sultan
of the mind is completely sane.
Dad?
Halim says
the part is perfect for you.
What play?
It's called something "good at".
"We're waiting for Good at".
-Godot?
-Yeah, something like that.
"Waiting for Godot"?
"Waiting for Godot"!
Shit, Yasmine ,
your dad speaks crazy good English.
I've played Estragon
five times on stage, I was good.
Ingmar Bergman saw me and said:
"Nourdine, you very good."
"You come to Sweden,
you work with me."
Get dressed.
Thanks, Halim.
Lead way to the bloody theatre now!
Hell, it's so bright outside.
I haven't been out for days.
It's big, it's nice, it's beautiful.
When I was twelve
I went to drama school-
-and I played a big horse.
-Was that in Sweden?
-No, that was in Baghdad.
Audition:
"WAITING FOR GODOT"
So mean...
We...we aren't...
...c...c...
-...created...
-Come on.
...for...
...for the same roads...the roads...
OK, thank you, that's great.
Wait, he can do better than that.
Halim, what are you doing? Sit down.
-Come on.
-I can't do it...
-I...
-Come on, breathe.
Halim!
-OK, that's enough.
-Just wait a minute.
-We're going home now...
-Listen to me.
To be...or not to be.
Go get them.
Get them in English.
He's ready now. He can do it better.
You go, bro!
I swear, you killed them.
You owned the stage.
You floored their mother, their
grandmother's dentist's cousin, yao.
They probably want someone
who can do it in Swedish.
Just do English or Swedish,
same shit.
It was so good to be up on stage.
Listen, bro, they're going to beg you
on their bare knees to sign a deal.
Maybe I get to do King Lear.
It was obvious that the sultan
of the mind was changing the world.
Zerafina, has your mum told you
about the famous integration plan?
Hallo?
Do you know
about the integration plan?
-Karlaplan?
-Fridhemsplan?
-Gullmarsplan?
-Stureplan?
-You dad, he's from Thailand, right?
-No, he's from Gothenburg.
No, but before that.
He's from Thailand, so you're a wog.
All wogs in Sweden are being tricked
by the integration plan...
-...made by suedis so that wogs...
-Frogs?
No, wogs.
You have to get it.
You're a brain surgeon.
I'm no brain surgeon,
let go of my sign. Let it go!
Halim is a frog! Why are you a frog?
What are you doing?
I... I'm looking for Bengt Magnusson.
Bengt Magnusson, that's me.
I... I just wanted...
...to say hi. Hi.
I kick Sweden's ass.
Just like Hannibal kicked
the Romans' ass with elephants-
-but Hannibal was a thug,
and I'm a well smart philosopher.
-Hallo? Dad?
-Hi, Halim.
-What are you doing?
-A Swedish horse.
Stockholm Palace has been vandalised
several nights in a row.
An unknown group has written
graffiti on windows...
Idiotic thugs.
Can't they look after their children?
Maybe they have their reasons!
If I had had children like that,
I would...
Look, Halim, this one's funny.
It sucks the blood-
-and soon it explodes. Look.
This is what will happen
to the thugs.
-What's that?
-It's just a notebook.
-Show me.
-It's the book mum gave me.
-Stop.
-I just want to look.
Shit, have you never seen a notebook?
Halim?
Sometimes I think dad is
the worst a man can get.
How can he think that Tabasco
is more important than justice?
Anyway... It's great knowing that
I've fixed a part at Dramaten for...
-Micke Persbrandt.
-Who?
Abou yao, you can't mean serious?
Who is this geek?
He's really popular.
He was in all those "Beck"-movies.
I bonk Beck's mum, yao.
Your dad was so much better.
Racist pigs.
Yeah, well... I'm just so worried
about my dad.
He was up all night talking about
feeling like an old fruit.
-A fruit?!
- es, he said that.
Unemployment is
transforming him into an old fruit-
-that decays,
rots and finally...dies.
I get it, I really do.
He says that his life
should be called "Waiting for what".
It's the integration plan's fault.
It just gets worse and worse.
I don't care, I'm going to Dramaten
to talk to them.
I'll make them go to their senses.
Let me in!
-Hey!
-Oh, hi.
Why did you give the part
to that geek Per Brandt?
Micke Persbrandt?
The part of Estragon?
First of all, we needed someone
who speaks Swedish.
He can speak Swedish,
but not perfect.
Listen, he's perfect.
He can sing. He's got a neat voice.
He knows fencing, and he has
a hot daughter. She's...
I have to answer. - Johan, I'm here
now. Will you open for me?
I'm sure your dad will do just fine.
Good luck.
Here's Souk el Had el Rhabia,
and here's Khemis du Sahel.
I told you that I know that.
-This is where I met your dad.
-Where?
Here.
-And that's where I got pregnant.
-I don't want to know that.
Halim?
Wake up.
What's that on your head?
What are you doing? Let go!
Shit!
That hat...
It's funny.
How am I supposed to help dad
when he doesn't get anything?
How am I supposed to get a part
for Yasmine's dad-
-when the integration plan
rules that theatre Dramaten?
Dalanda explained that Per Brandt-
-was a big symbol
for the integration plan.
If that's true I'll deal with him.
Yasmine's dad will get a part.
Nothing stops the sultan of the mind.
Nothing can stop the new Sweden.
And nothing will put mockers
on the struggle.
-What's this?
-What kind of a book is this?
What geeky book is this? What's this?
Sultan of the mind,
sultan of behind.
-Fuck, this is geeky!
-Stop it.
"The integration plan rules society.
I'm not crazy, Sweden is."
-What a fucking geek!
-Give me back my book.
"Mum, where are you?"
"I wanted to jump into the hole.
Maybe she's waiting there."
Halim wants to jump
into his mother's hole.
Halim! Halim! Stop it, Halim!
Hold him.
Fucking idiot!
Hold him, I'll kick his ass.
Come on, guys. Stop fighting!
Hristo,
don't make me call your parents.
Shut up, bitch!
Sometimes the feelings inside
are too strong.
It's as if she's whispering
from the other side.
Then even the toughest
sultan of the mind goes soft.
But nobody must see
when you're soft on the inside.
You're gonna die, you cunt.
Come here.
You wanna play with me?
Dad, do you know what a person
who forgets his past-
-and a lame camel have in common?
Both have to stumble through life
and die alone in the desert.
Tell me more. What other
Arabic proverbs do you know?
The brave camel stays...
...the scared camel runs away.
Do you think a proverb is Arabic
just because you add some camels?
Huh? Huh?
You wanna play with me
and make a fool out of me?
Are you stupid or what?
That's not a proverb, Halim.
That's bullshit!
Who the hell do you think you are?
Do you want to hear
a proper Arabic proverb, Halim?
The wise person seeks knowledge...
...the foolish person speaks.
Do you want to die, or what?
-Do you want to die?
-No!
Remember that, Halim.
Dad was withering away,
turning into an empty shell...
...and that thought hurt the most.
Why is he crying?
You have to cry
and let the feelings out.
Is there somebody
who decides when we die?
Someone who's all around us
...with us, you and me.
Allah?
Allah.
There's a Swedish fairy-tale about...
...tears...
...and snow.
That snow is in fact tears
that have frozen.
So our creator is crying?
Mum...
...are you going to die?
es...
I'm going to die.
Why does he do that?
He's so stupid, your dad.
I' don't really feel
like talking today.
Halim...
You don't have to talk.
-I want to show you something.
-Me?
es.
Are you all right, dear. Mostafa?
Halim!
Everything will be just fine.
Arabic blood flows
through your veins.
You're the real thing.
I'm going to a party tomorrow.
I'm meeting my guzzilily.
-Really?
- es.
It was time to unite
love and fighting.
It was time to catch
the cattiest kitten in town.
-It's Halim.
-How are you, Halim?
-Have you seen Yasmine ?
-No.
-Do you want some?
-No, that's OK.
We have to mobilise ourselves
for the fight, Yasmine .
That's the whole issue.
There is a class divide-
-in Sweden,
and it's time to see through that...
-...so that the fight can begin.
-But what are we going to do?
We have to make people see
that money controls everything-
-and see through the codes
and expose this.
I'm glad
that someone is getting involved.
-But you're on my side, aren't you?
- es.
Then let's propose a toast
for the fight. Cheers.
You don't know nothing
about fights, yao.
Listen up, geek,
don't think you can nick my guzz.
Excuse me? Is this supposed
to be your girlfriend or...?
What do you want, yao?
Nothing. What do you want?
-What the hell are you doing, Halim?
-Yeah, what are you doing?
Just ignore him.
Shit!
There's a fight.
What the hell are you doing?
Stop. Are you crazy, Halim?!
-Let go. - Fucking asshole!
-You're sick.
Get out of here.
You've ruined everything.
-Come on, get out of here.
-Are you okay?
-Come on, beat it.
-Fucking idiot.
-Hi, Dalanda.
-Come in.
You have to help me.
We're packing-
-because we're moving to Gothenburg.
Hassan got a job in Gothenburg,
and we have to move.
What am I supposed to do?
Come take your medicine.
I can see that you've spat it out.
Dalanda?
You don't listen
to everything she says, right?
She said I was like a son to her.
Like the son she never had.
Dalanda has three sons and four
daughters. She has forgotten them.
Go home, it's late.
Bye.
Dad?
Where are you?
Dad!
I want you to promise me
that you'll take care of each other.
Take care of your father.
What is this crap?
"Roots"? "The fight"?
"Integration plan"?!
You're wasting everything
I've fought for.
This has to stop!
Stop dreaming. Look at me.
I've got a shop full of crap,
but you can be something else-
-that's why we came here.
Not so that you can pretend
to be more stupid than you are.
Why are you writing such bad Swedish?
"Guzz, dude, nick, nick!"
Why don't you speak proper Swedish?
Who do you think you are?
I know who I am, where I come from.
Where you come from?
You were born in Sweden.
You're nothing but a quitter.
"Quitter"? Why am I a quitter?
You don't care
about the fight or our roots.
What fight? There is no fight.
Jihad, the fight against evil.
That's the small jihad.
Read the Koran.
It says that the Great Jihad is the
fight against the evil inside of us.
When did you read the Koran last?
Islam tells you to respect
your parents. Respect your dad.
I don't have a dad!
Open the door, Halim.
Screw you too!
It's about the fight against
the evil inside of us!
It's your time to fight.
You don't listen
to everything she says, right?
You're sick!
NO MORE IMMIGRATION
WAITING FOR GODOT
Fight over satellite dishes
Muslims rage over pork in hamburgers
Harder for foreigners to find work
Immigrants who change
their names earn more
Halim!
-Don't touch me, yao.
-Go home.
What a nice hat you've got.
Hallo! How are you doing?
Fine. I've been to the theatre.
-What's your name?
-Magnus...Bengtsson.
OK, Magnus... Theatre...
What did you see?
"Godot" at Dramaten.
Take it easy tonight, Magnus. Bye.
Are you okay? Huh?
Okay...
Halim!
I get the feeling that
you're following me. Are you?
Is something wrong?
If that's all,
I'll be on my way. Bye, bye.
Wait!
What?
You'll never nick a part
from a wog again!
What are you saying?
What the hell are you doing?
You'll die
together with your integration plan!
Halim!
Hey!
Is something wrong? Huh?
If that's all,
I'll be on my way. Bye, bye.
TO THE SUBURBS
Halim? Halim!
Halim? Halim?
You have to wake up now.
Open your eyes.
My darling boy.
Have I told you
about the day you were born?
How ugly you were when you came out?
es, many times.
It's unbelievable
that somebody so ugly-
-could turn out so beautiful.
Do you remember
what I said about the fight?
About the Great Jihad?
-About how it's fought...
-On the inside.
That's it. Start with that.
Otherwise, you'll fall apart.
But dad...don't you miss mum?
All the time.
Every minute.
Why are you throwing
everything away then?
Why don't you want to keep
something of hers?
I do, Halim.
I've got you.
Can you give me that? The balloon?
Have some.
It's mum's air.
Although camels like dad can be
seriously thick and hard to control-
-they are really quite powerful.
If a camel ends up
in a crazy big sandstorm-
-it still finds its way back
like a GPS.
Since Halim is a mighty philosopher-
-I know what you meant
by finding my way home.
Home is not a place,
home is on the inside.
I know I sound soft
like a suedi wine poet-
-but sometimes you have
to show a different side.
A geeky side.
Like Hristo. He showed
his geeky side when I said...
What did you say?
That his mum sucks skinhead dick
on cable TV every night.
But then I was in a hurry.
But I also get what dad meant
by fighting on the inside.
Like Yasmine does.
I know that she really wants
to be my guzz.
She's fighting dead hardish
to play hard to get.
Sho, Yasmine! What's up?
It's totally obvious
that on the inside, she wants me.
Let go, Halim.
Come on, dad.
Isn't it nice, Zerafina?
Really good.
Admit it. Our food kicks
the ass of Abba's herring.
-I need the bathroom, mum.
-Let's go.
-Just for a bit...
-You smell of alcohol.
I know I smell of alcohol,
but it doesn't matter.
-Don't touch me.
-We're fully booked.
There's space at the bar. Come on!
Is your brother coming now?
Bloody darkies defending each other.
I can sit at the bar.
I just want a beer.
Towelhead!
What the hell are you doing?
Get out.
Who are you calling a towelhead?
Idiot.
Dad...
Sometimes I really feel
that you're my dad.
ONE EYE RED
-That was good food.
-It was wonderful.
One other thing...
I am perfectly capable of speaking
correct Swedish if I want to.
It is most interesting
and has its distinct advantages.
But!
I will never talk like a loser suedi!
Okay? Jalla!
Thinking deep thoughts and stuff.
Like how many proverbs there are
about home in Sweden.
"Home, sweetest home, "
"There's no place as wicked as home"-
-and "My home is a huge castle."
You talked about home.
You said that whenever I got lost
I would always find my way home.
These are wonderings in my head,
because really... What is home?
Mum!
You were the most beautiful,
best-cooking mum in the world.
You could have any man you wanted-
-and you chose
the most ultimate dude.
Dad! The wickedest businessman
and international champion of dance.
You were like a bird,
and dad was more like a camel.
But with the hump on his belly.
Now!
What we have all been waiting for.
Ladies and gentlemen,
the best son of all time and places.
Here is Halim!
Help me out here.
-You sweat massively.
-Yes.
-Fit people sweat a lot.
-Fat people sweat a lot.
I'm not fat.
What are you laughing at?
Stop it. - Bloody lift.
Here... I found it at the market.
It's a notebook.
You can use it to keep a diary.
But you have to write in Swedish.
Pull in your stomach
and make room for me.
Abou yao.
Now we'll be stuck here forever.
Don't worry, my son.
There you go.
You can't trust Swedish lifts.
Right, but you can trust
an old woman with snake eyes.
Thanks.
-Why can't you let her be?
-She's an old, crazy racist.
You make me tired sometimes.
Mum?
Mum?
What's going on?
-What happened?
-I can't get up.
-What's happened?
-I can't get up.
Try again. Read it from here.
-"Do you like...?"
-"Do you like?"
El Boustani?
Hallo.
Now we have received
all your test results.
Unfortunately we can now
confirm our initial suspicions.
You're suffering
from amyotrophic lateral sclerosis.
-What does that mean?
-It's a neuromuscular disease.
It causes your muscles to weaken
and stop functioning.
Medication will slow down
the degeneration-
-but unfortunately
there is no cure.
You will experience
more and more symptoms-
-such as your limbs going numb.
You will also start feeling weaker.
You said that if I ever get lost-
-I should always return to the place
where we last saw each other.
It could be a tree in the forest or
the fruit section in the supermarket.
But if that place no longer exists...
If the person I'm looking for
no longer exists...
Where do I go?
ONE EYE RED
Why are we moving?
There's no future for us here.
Those who stay here
live in the past.
Halim... You have to understand.
These suburbs are no good.
I don't want you to be
an outcast or a gangster.
You have to take part in the game.
You have to be Swedish.
-I will never be a bloody suedi.
- es, you can.
It was as if someone had programmed
dad into throwing everything away.
All memories of you and Morocco
had to go.
Wait. Let the air out first.
Listen to me, Halim.
Let the air out first.
-No.
-It's only air.
That's enough.
From now on
we leave all bad things behind.
From now on,
we only speak Swedish to each other.
Okay, Halim?
Only Swedish.
Why would you leave your home?
I understand birds
who leave the crazy cold winter.
Like the swallows who always know-
-where to fly
to get away from the cold.
But birds always come back.
Halim! Have you seen
who our neighbour is?
Bengt Magnusson - the TV star!
But dad wasn't a smartish bird,
but a confused camel.
It felt as if someone had pushed
a weird button in his head.
It wanted to forget all that
had been, and loved everything new.
Halim?
What kind of shit music is this?
Are you crazy or what?
It's called "Swedish favourites".
They play Swedish music.
Uggla-Magnus.
Anna Boken. ABBA...
-You know ABBA?
-I know who they are.
ABBA also make
sandwich filling and herring.
But dad... Abba herring is completely
different from the singing ABBA.
You can't fool your dad.
I have sold many times ABBA.
What it says?
-Abba.
- es!
-And here?
-ABBA.
There you go.
You used to say that roots mattered.
And dad would always agree.
If you'd seen him, he'd get a proper
Moroccan slipper over the head.
All he talks about
is being a Swedish businessman-
-with a proper cash register.
The new shop will sell...
Everything!
Write, Halim, with big letter.
Everything!
On bike.
On top, Halim.
Like that. Nice!
"We sell everything!"
Also, he never wants to speak
Arabic any more.
It's lucky
I have Arabic classes at school.
There you find
real knowledge and meaning.
Good, Halim, you're learning.
Promise me you will
take care of each other.
Promise, Halim.
Take care of your father.
Though winter, spring and summer
have passed-
-it seems like you were here
only moments ago.
But dad... How can he
have forgotten you already?
The way to the Swedish heart
is through the stomach.
So I have made
traditional "pytt i panna".
With chicken.
Look, it's our neighbour
Bengt Magnusson!
Why do you put four?
Hey?
Hi, Kerstin. - Hi, Zerafina.
What nice braids you have.
This is great.
Come on in.
At first, I thought it was
the cleaner or something.
Hallo.
-This is Halim. My son.
-Hi, I'm Kerstin.
Then I thought it was a cross
between a duck and a pig.
Kerstin is my teacher
in cooking class.
Thank you.
But it was worse. Duck-pig wanted
to take your place at the table-
-and make dad
listen to and eat ABBA.
TO THE SUBURBS
What's up, Halim?
I'll join you in a minute.
Taste now, pay later.
- our tomatoes are no good!
Don't listen to him.
They cost nothing - almost free!
Fresh tomatoes,
the cheapest you can find.
Hallo, my son.
Come and sit beside aunt Dalanda.
No, that's all right.
I think you need an orange.
Your thoughts are making trouble
in your beautiful head.
You're at a loss
and are trying to understand-
-how everything works
and what's wrong.
How did she know?
Because I'm Dalanda.
What a mind reader.
I told the old woman everything.
About us moving,
and how dad had changed so much.
About Kerstin who tried to take
your place at the table.
The old woman got it all.
Whatever I asked, she had answers.
Halim...
Does your father cook Swedish food?
"Pytt i panna"?
Does he watch Swedish TV?
Bengt Magnusson?
No, but he practices
Swedish culture, right?
It's the fault of the Swedes.
Their so called integration plan.
What?
The integration plan!
They're trying to Swedify us. Do you
know why you're not taught Arabic?
But I do have Arabic classes.
Soon they will stop
teaching Arabic.
They can't.
It's to do with
what the Swedes call "priorities".
Halim... Do you know
why Sweden sells us alcohol?
The government sells us alcohol-
-because they want
to change us and our customs.
They make the forms
extra hard to fill out-
-so that no immigrants
can start their own businesses.
"Come to Sweden
and clean our toilets."
-"But don't come to our nightclubs."
-We're full.
Welcome!
Do you know why the Swedes
hate immigrants-
-and their satellite dishes?
It's because the government
wants to turn us into Swedes.
Dalanda's words were like
the mightiest lava stream in my head.
Now I knew why dad had changed.
Everything is down
to the integration plan, right?
Therefore, my son,
remember your roots.
The integration plan turns him from
the mightiest Arab with hottest fire-
-into a limping camel
lost in Swedish desert.
-What happened to the old shop?
-He moved.
I'm so tired of you foreigners
who come here and spoil everything.
If he had been himself,
the old dad-
-he would have taken that drunk
and thrown him out.
He wouldn't even have talked to him.
A slap would send the suedi home.
Dad would have spoken
with Arab granite voice.
I'm sorry, I'll move it.
Come back soon.
Instead of that smiling, soft,
rubber band voice he uses for suedis.
-What the hell are you doing?
-We were celebrating sour herring.
But it's rotten.
It's forbidden to eat sour herring
in apartment blocks.
But I won't let it happen.
I want to keep my real dad.
Would Halim El Boustianimalis please
come to the headmaster's office?
-We will have to...
-...cancel the Arabic...
...classes.
It's simply a question of priorities.
Who has decided?
Dad!
They've cancelled the Arabic classes.
They've cancelled the Arabic classes.
You have to do something.
Hallo? Don't you get it?
-You're the one who doesn't get it.
-Get what?
What language do they speak
in say...Greece?
-Greek, of course.
-Good. One point.
And in France?
French - that's two points now.
-And in Sweden...
-Stop it, dad.
What was that? That's right.
In Sweden you speak Swedish, Halim.
Dalanda was right. Never!
I will never let awesome dads succumb
to their cunty integration plan.
I will never let dad read suedi
literature or be poisoned by alcohol.
I will never let crap suedi food
soil my stomach.
-What's that, mum?
-I will never drink herring schnapps.
Or dance in clogs
around a disgusting, loser maypole.
Now I see proof that
the integration plan rules society.
My eyes are more open than could be.
I see through
and break all the codes.
I see it at school, where the suedis
are divided into categories.
First, there are the posh suedis.
They hardly know what a wog is.
They have names
like Tutte, Fjutte and Noppan.
Then there are the tramp suedis with
messy hair and second-hand clothes-
-but who are always loaded
with wonga for coffee.
Then there are two types of wogs.
Number one is the gangster wog.
Also called a geezer,
hood or fiddler.
He can make a soft air gun
into a proper weapon.
Like Hristo.
Then there are the obedience wogs.
They study hard, use fancy words
and never dodge the underground fare.
They become dentists and engineers.
Like the Shirt Iranians.
But me - Halim...
I am the new type of wog, bro.
The sweatiest nightmare
of Swedish society.
The revolutionary wog.
The sultan of the mind.
So typically Swedish.
Nothing but forms and shit.
-What do you mean?
-Can't you see?
The forms are so hard that
no immigrant can start a business.
Then they want you to live
on benefits and clean their toilets.
-It's part of the integration plan.
-Really?
Tell me.
What's so great about Morocco?
Tell me about police torture,
sham democracy and Western Sahara.
-But I mean...
-Stop talking nonsense, Halim.
Help me pack the goods.
G顤an sent us
the wrong delivery again.
I ordered funny glasses
with moustache.
Instead I got this.
It wasn't a mistake by G顤an.
He's a bloody suedi.
You can't trust those
who want us out of the country.
-What did you say?
-That you can't trust...
Are you crazy?
What kind of racist bullshit is that?
Welcome to our
student democracy project.
The school board wants to give you a
chance to influence your environment.
So we have set up various councils.
The bullying council,
IT council, crafts council-
-and for you in this group,
the lunch council.
es...
The lessons to be learnt within
the democracy project framework are:
One: Freedom of speech.
Everybody has a say.
Two: All questions are equally
important, whether big or small.
-Tomato soup should be banned.
-I want triangular crisp bread.
Three: Respect the opinion of others.
Shut up, bitch.
Look at this crap.
And this, they call...
De-mo-cra-cy. Democracy!
Why don't they all shut up?
Why don't you all shut up?
But Yasmine ... That's no way
to uphold democracy.
-You have to respect their opinions.
-It's all bullshit.
In your country you might think so-
-but in Sweden
we respect everyone's opinion.
-Who are ''we"?
-All of us in this room.
Just sit back down
and let us talk about food again.
Mum... You should have seen her.
She was like the most colourful
rainbow fish in a polluted sea.
Like the nicest flower
on a stinking rubbish heap.
If felt like the whole world's
volcanic heat was inside me.
Like the thickest layer
of Tiger Balm on my chest.
Her eyes were like beautiful stars
with the wickedest shining power.
If I was the king of the struggle,
she was the queen.
Abou! What's she doing here?
Hi.
Hi.
Nice moped.
Thanks.
Nice satellite dish.
es... It's my dad's.
-He goes mad without his TV.
-I see.
What does your dad do?
-He used to be an actor.
-Then he must be well famous.
-He was when he lived in London.
-I see.
So what does he do in Sweden?
Why do you ask so much about my dad?
Why are you even here?
It's dead cool, because
you and me are almost the same.
We thought the same thing
on the lunch council.
They talked proper rubbish
with that crisp-bread democracy.
They call it democracy, but it's
really part of the integration plan.
Don't forget to bring it back later.
I've got to go. Bye!
See you!
Halim!
Halim! Think about climate change.
Don't waste water.
-Hi.
-Halim!
How are you, my child?
-How are you? I've missed you.
-I'm fine.
Tell me what you've been up to.
I've missed you.
We've started the fight
against the integration plan.
-We?
-Me and my girl.
She gave me the idea
to get a satellite dish for dad-
-to get him back to his Arabic roots.
Good. Very good.
There's strength in you.
I trust you, so I've decided-
-to give you something
that's close to my heart.
You have deserved this.
It was my father's. He wore it
when fighting the Ottomans.
You deserve this too,
and so I give it to you.
Take it, Halim. Take it.
I don't need anything like that.
I'm the sultan of the mind.
I don't need a gun.
You may not need it now-
-but the day will come.
Take it.
Take it. You are the only one
who can save your dad.
Thank you, Kerstin.
What a lovely cake. Tasty too.
It's a crap cake. Mum would
never make such a crap cake.
Dad... This is my gift to you.
With this, we can watch
Morocco, Algeria, Lebanon...
Halim... You really shouldn't have.
-How much was it?
-We'll watch Libya, Egypt, Syria...
-Can we return it?
-Don't worry. We'll put it up now.
I've got the satellite box and all.
It'll have to wait, Halim.
Kerstin and I are going to
the Swedish sing-a-long concert.
But thank you, Halim.
Cheers, Kerstin.
Suedis use the expression
"to beat someone yellow and blue".
You are either beaten yellow and blue
by the cops or by skinheads.
Or you become like dad
- yellow and blue on the inside.
But you just wait. When I'm done
with Sweden, all will be different.
We're live from Kungstr輐g緳den
where the prime minister-
-Halim the Great, our wicked
sultan of the mind and saviour-
-presents his new government.
THE NEW SWEDISH GOVERNMENT
MINISTER OF CULTURE
SOFTISH MINISTER
QUOTA-FILLING MINISTER
Soon, dad will be like Yasmine's dad,
who knows how important roots are.
It'll be twice as nice, 'cause
to girls it's really important-
-that you have loads in common
in a relationship.
Abou! Call the cops. Some bum
has broken in to Yasmine's flat.
Baba?
Is it Persbrandt again?
Oh, fuck!
Shit!
-Are you okay? Are you hurt?
-No, I'm fine.
-I got these pills for you.
-It's okay.
-Are you really okay?
-Sure. I got bad ass reflexes, yao.
-Why are you laughing?
-You talk so funny.
-"Bad ass reflexes, yao."
-Yeah, but...
In my neighbourhood
everyone talks like that.
"What's happenish?"
"softish", "wanna baz?"
What does ''wanna baz" mean?
It means "picnic".
"Do you want to go for a picnic?"
So how do you say...police?
You can say "Po-po",
"Bacon" or "Piggy".
-But how do you say mobile phone?
-"Mobilish."
-Pavement?
-"Pavementish."
-Flag?
-"Flying flagish."
You made that up.
Do you know how we say
"The prettiest girl in the world"?
-"A nice guzz." Isn't that it?
-Almost.
You say "a nice guzzilily".
-That one you made up.
-No, no. Believe me.
Your dad, by the way...
I thought he was an actor?
-Why do you ask?
-I just...
It's just that it was
a real long time since he got a part.
In Syria and London
he had a massive career.
-But it's much harder here.
-Has he never had a part?
Well... He was in a soap once.
Hot sauce? Salt on your chips?
But that's all. Seven seconds.
-Kebab seller.
-Bloody suedis.
-What?
-It's due to the integration plan.
It's because your dad
has black hair and is a wog.
If you want a part, you have to
bleach your hair and change names.
Don't worry - it's not his fault.
I might be able to help.
-Right, good luck.
-Chill out.
Don't worry, trust me. I fixish.
Abou!
-A bun?
-Thanks.
But you know, even though
Yasmine's dad is awesome-
-he doesn't get any parts 'cause
he hasn't got any damn contacts.
-Are these your final thoughts?
-Yeah.
I'm going to make a few phone calls.
Hey, listen, there's a guy, an actor-
-who really needs our help.
I've phoned a few friends
in television.
Ingmar Bergman and Bj顤n Borg.
You don't need to worry.
Yasmine's dad will get
an acting job within two weeks' time.
Thank you, bro. Thank you, Bengan.
Thank you, we've been looking
for someone like Yasmine 's dad.
Bengt, I'll screw you
if you don't open!
The premiere of "Waiting for Godot"
on Dramaten may be postponed-
-since one of the actors
broke his leg.
The theatre is searching for
a new actor to play Estragon.
We're having an audition
to get some new people in here.
Turn the movie back on.
-Turn it on!
-OK, you can watch it. Here you go.
-Stop sucking your thumb.
-Nope.
If I had had paedophilia, I might
have made a move on Zerafina.
But fortunately, Halim the sultan
of the mind is completely sane.
Dad?
Halim says
the part is perfect for you.
What play?
It's called something "good at".
"We're waiting for Good at".
-Godot?
-Yeah, something like that.
"Waiting for Godot"?
"Waiting for Godot"!
Shit, Yasmine ,
your dad speaks crazy good English.
I've played Estragon
five times on stage, I was good.
Ingmar Bergman saw me and said:
"Nourdine, you very good."
"You come to Sweden,
you work with me."
Get dressed.
Thanks, Halim.
Lead way to the bloody theatre now!
Hell, it's so bright outside.
I haven't been out for days.
It's big, it's nice, it's beautiful.
When I was twelve
I went to drama school-
-and I played a big horse.
-Was that in Sweden?
-No, that was in Baghdad.
Audition:
"WAITING FOR GODOT"
So mean...
We...we aren't...
...c...c...
-...created...
-Come on.
...for...
...for the same roads...the roads...
OK, thank you, that's great.
Wait, he can do better than that.
Halim, what are you doing? Sit down.
-Come on.
-I can't do it...
-I...
-Come on, breathe.
Halim!
-OK, that's enough.
-Just wait a minute.
-We're going home now...
-Listen to me.
To be...or not to be.
Go get them.
Get them in English.
He's ready now. He can do it better.
You go, bro!
I swear, you killed them.
You owned the stage.
You floored their mother, their
grandmother's dentist's cousin, yao.
They probably want someone
who can do it in Swedish.
Just do English or Swedish,
same shit.
It was so good to be up on stage.
Listen, bro, they're going to beg you
on their bare knees to sign a deal.
Maybe I get to do King Lear.
It was obvious that the sultan
of the mind was changing the world.
Zerafina, has your mum told you
about the famous integration plan?
Hallo?
Do you know
about the integration plan?
-Karlaplan?
-Fridhemsplan?
-Gullmarsplan?
-Stureplan?
-You dad, he's from Thailand, right?
-No, he's from Gothenburg.
No, but before that.
He's from Thailand, so you're a wog.
All wogs in Sweden are being tricked
by the integration plan...
-...made by suedis so that wogs...
-Frogs?
No, wogs.
You have to get it.
You're a brain surgeon.
I'm no brain surgeon,
let go of my sign. Let it go!
Halim is a frog! Why are you a frog?
What are you doing?
I... I'm looking for Bengt Magnusson.
Bengt Magnusson, that's me.
I... I just wanted...
...to say hi. Hi.
I kick Sweden's ass.
Just like Hannibal kicked
the Romans' ass with elephants-
-but Hannibal was a thug,
and I'm a well smart philosopher.
-Hallo? Dad?
-Hi, Halim.
-What are you doing?
-A Swedish horse.
Stockholm Palace has been vandalised
several nights in a row.
An unknown group has written
graffiti on windows...
Idiotic thugs.
Can't they look after their children?
Maybe they have their reasons!
If I had had children like that,
I would...
Look, Halim, this one's funny.
It sucks the blood-
-and soon it explodes. Look.
This is what will happen
to the thugs.
-What's that?
-It's just a notebook.
-Show me.
-It's the book mum gave me.
-Stop.
-I just want to look.
Shit, have you never seen a notebook?
Halim?
Sometimes I think dad is
the worst a man can get.
How can he think that Tabasco
is more important than justice?
Anyway... It's great knowing that
I've fixed a part at Dramaten for...
-Micke Persbrandt.
-Who?
Abou yao, you can't mean serious?
Who is this geek?
He's really popular.
He was in all those "Beck"-movies.
I bonk Beck's mum, yao.
Your dad was so much better.
Racist pigs.
Yeah, well... I'm just so worried
about my dad.
He was up all night talking about
feeling like an old fruit.
-A fruit?!
- es, he said that.
Unemployment is
transforming him into an old fruit-
-that decays,
rots and finally...dies.
I get it, I really do.
He says that his life
should be called "Waiting for what".
It's the integration plan's fault.
It just gets worse and worse.
I don't care, I'm going to Dramaten
to talk to them.
I'll make them go to their senses.
Let me in!
-Hey!
-Oh, hi.
Why did you give the part
to that geek Per Brandt?
Micke Persbrandt?
The part of Estragon?
First of all, we needed someone
who speaks Swedish.
He can speak Swedish,
but not perfect.
Listen, he's perfect.
He can sing. He's got a neat voice.
He knows fencing, and he has
a hot daughter. She's...
I have to answer. - Johan, I'm here
now. Will you open for me?
I'm sure your dad will do just fine.
Good luck.
Here's Souk el Had el Rhabia,
and here's Khemis du Sahel.
I told you that I know that.
-This is where I met your dad.
-Where?
Here.
-And that's where I got pregnant.
-I don't want to know that.
Halim?
Wake up.
What's that on your head?
What are you doing? Let go!
Shit!
That hat...
It's funny.
How am I supposed to help dad
when he doesn't get anything?
How am I supposed to get a part
for Yasmine's dad-
-when the integration plan
rules that theatre Dramaten?
Dalanda explained that Per Brandt-
-was a big symbol
for the integration plan.
If that's true I'll deal with him.
Yasmine's dad will get a part.
Nothing stops the sultan of the mind.
Nothing can stop the new Sweden.
And nothing will put mockers
on the struggle.
-What's this?
-What kind of a book is this?
What geeky book is this? What's this?
Sultan of the mind,
sultan of behind.
-Fuck, this is geeky!
-Stop it.
"The integration plan rules society.
I'm not crazy, Sweden is."
-What a fucking geek!
-Give me back my book.
"Mum, where are you?"
"I wanted to jump into the hole.
Maybe she's waiting there."
Halim wants to jump
into his mother's hole.
Halim! Halim! Stop it, Halim!
Hold him.
Fucking idiot!
Hold him, I'll kick his ass.
Come on, guys. Stop fighting!
Hristo,
don't make me call your parents.
Shut up, bitch!
Sometimes the feelings inside
are too strong.
It's as if she's whispering
from the other side.
Then even the toughest
sultan of the mind goes soft.
But nobody must see
when you're soft on the inside.
You're gonna die, you cunt.
Come here.
You wanna play with me?
Dad, do you know what a person
who forgets his past-
-and a lame camel have in common?
Both have to stumble through life
and die alone in the desert.
Tell me more. What other
Arabic proverbs do you know?
The brave camel stays...
...the scared camel runs away.
Do you think a proverb is Arabic
just because you add some camels?
Huh? Huh?
You wanna play with me
and make a fool out of me?
Are you stupid or what?
That's not a proverb, Halim.
That's bullshit!
Who the hell do you think you are?
Do you want to hear
a proper Arabic proverb, Halim?
The wise person seeks knowledge...
...the foolish person speaks.
Do you want to die, or what?
-Do you want to die?
-No!
Remember that, Halim.
Dad was withering away,
turning into an empty shell...
...and that thought hurt the most.
Why is he crying?
You have to cry
and let the feelings out.
Is there somebody
who decides when we die?
Someone who's all around us
...with us, you and me.
Allah?
Allah.
There's a Swedish fairy-tale about...
...tears...
...and snow.
That snow is in fact tears
that have frozen.
So our creator is crying?
Mum...
...are you going to die?
es...
I'm going to die.
Why does he do that?
He's so stupid, your dad.
I' don't really feel
like talking today.
Halim...
You don't have to talk.
-I want to show you something.
-Me?
es.
Are you all right, dear. Mostafa?
Halim!
Everything will be just fine.
Arabic blood flows
through your veins.
You're the real thing.
I'm going to a party tomorrow.
I'm meeting my guzzilily.
-Really?
- es.
It was time to unite
love and fighting.
It was time to catch
the cattiest kitten in town.
-It's Halim.
-How are you, Halim?
-Have you seen Yasmine ?
-No.
-Do you want some?
-No, that's OK.
We have to mobilise ourselves
for the fight, Yasmine .
That's the whole issue.
There is a class divide-
-in Sweden,
and it's time to see through that...
-...so that the fight can begin.
-But what are we going to do?
We have to make people see
that money controls everything-
-and see through the codes
and expose this.
I'm glad
that someone is getting involved.
-But you're on my side, aren't you?
- es.
Then let's propose a toast
for the fight. Cheers.
You don't know nothing
about fights, yao.
Listen up, geek,
don't think you can nick my guzz.
Excuse me? Is this supposed
to be your girlfriend or...?
What do you want, yao?
Nothing. What do you want?
-What the hell are you doing, Halim?
-Yeah, what are you doing?
Just ignore him.
Shit!
There's a fight.
What the hell are you doing?
Stop. Are you crazy, Halim?!
-Let go. - Fucking asshole!
-You're sick.
Get out of here.
You've ruined everything.
-Come on, get out of here.
-Are you okay?
-Come on, beat it.
-Fucking idiot.
-Hi, Dalanda.
-Come in.
You have to help me.
We're packing-
-because we're moving to Gothenburg.
Hassan got a job in Gothenburg,
and we have to move.
What am I supposed to do?
Come take your medicine.
I can see that you've spat it out.
Dalanda?
You don't listen
to everything she says, right?
She said I was like a son to her.
Like the son she never had.
Dalanda has three sons and four
daughters. She has forgotten them.
Go home, it's late.
Bye.
Dad?
Where are you?
Dad!
I want you to promise me
that you'll take care of each other.
Take care of your father.
What is this crap?
"Roots"? "The fight"?
"Integration plan"?!
You're wasting everything
I've fought for.
This has to stop!
Stop dreaming. Look at me.
I've got a shop full of crap,
but you can be something else-
-that's why we came here.
Not so that you can pretend
to be more stupid than you are.
Why are you writing such bad Swedish?
"Guzz, dude, nick, nick!"
Why don't you speak proper Swedish?
Who do you think you are?
I know who I am, where I come from.
Where you come from?
You were born in Sweden.
You're nothing but a quitter.
"Quitter"? Why am I a quitter?
You don't care
about the fight or our roots.
What fight? There is no fight.
Jihad, the fight against evil.
That's the small jihad.
Read the Koran.
It says that the Great Jihad is the
fight against the evil inside of us.
When did you read the Koran last?
Islam tells you to respect
your parents. Respect your dad.
I don't have a dad!
Open the door, Halim.
Screw you too!
It's about the fight against
the evil inside of us!
It's your time to fight.
You don't listen
to everything she says, right?
You're sick!
NO MORE IMMIGRATION
WAITING FOR GODOT
Fight over satellite dishes
Muslims rage over pork in hamburgers
Harder for foreigners to find work
Immigrants who change
their names earn more
Halim!
-Don't touch me, yao.
-Go home.
What a nice hat you've got.
Hallo! How are you doing?
Fine. I've been to the theatre.
-What's your name?
-Magnus...Bengtsson.
OK, Magnus... Theatre...
What did you see?
"Godot" at Dramaten.
Take it easy tonight, Magnus. Bye.
Are you okay? Huh?
Okay...
Halim!
I get the feeling that
you're following me. Are you?
Is something wrong?
If that's all,
I'll be on my way. Bye, bye.
Wait!
What?
You'll never nick a part
from a wog again!
What are you saying?
What the hell are you doing?
You'll die
together with your integration plan!
Halim!
Hey!
Is something wrong? Huh?
If that's all,
I'll be on my way. Bye, bye.
TO THE SUBURBS
Halim? Halim!
Halim? Halim?
You have to wake up now.
Open your eyes.
My darling boy.
Have I told you
about the day you were born?
How ugly you were when you came out?
es, many times.
It's unbelievable
that somebody so ugly-
-could turn out so beautiful.
Do you remember
what I said about the fight?
About the Great Jihad?
-About how it's fought...
-On the inside.
That's it. Start with that.
Otherwise, you'll fall apart.
But dad...don't you miss mum?
All the time.
Every minute.
Why are you throwing
everything away then?
Why don't you want to keep
something of hers?
I do, Halim.
I've got you.
Can you give me that? The balloon?
Have some.
It's mum's air.
Although camels like dad can be
seriously thick and hard to control-
-they are really quite powerful.
If a camel ends up
in a crazy big sandstorm-
-it still finds its way back
like a GPS.
Since Halim is a mighty philosopher-
-I know what you meant
by finding my way home.
Home is not a place,
home is on the inside.
I know I sound soft
like a suedi wine poet-
-but sometimes you have
to show a different side.
A geeky side.
Like Hristo. He showed
his geeky side when I said...
What did you say?
That his mum sucks skinhead dick
on cable TV every night.
But then I was in a hurry.
But I also get what dad meant
by fighting on the inside.
Like Yasmine does.
I know that she really wants
to be my guzz.
She's fighting dead hardish
to play hard to get.
Sho, Yasmine! What's up?
It's totally obvious
that on the inside, she wants me.
Let go, Halim.
Come on, dad.
Isn't it nice, Zerafina?
Really good.
Admit it. Our food kicks
the ass of Abba's herring.
-I need the bathroom, mum.
-Let's go.
-Just for a bit...
-You smell of alcohol.
I know I smell of alcohol,
but it doesn't matter.
-Don't touch me.
-We're fully booked.
There's space at the bar. Come on!
Is your brother coming now?
Bloody darkies defending each other.
I can sit at the bar.
I just want a beer.
Towelhead!
What the hell are you doing?
Get out.
Who are you calling a towelhead?
Idiot.
Dad...
Sometimes I really feel
that you're my dad.
ONE EYE RED
-That was good food.
-It was wonderful.
One other thing...
I am perfectly capable of speaking
correct Swedish if I want to.
It is most interesting
and has its distinct advantages.
But!
I will never talk like a loser suedi!
Okay? Jalla!