Summer Interlude (1951) - full transcript

DIGITALLY RESTORED IN 2017

SUMMER INTERLUDE

12:00 DRESS REHEARSAL

SWAN LAKE AND PETRUSHKA

Parcel for delivery.

For Miss Marie. I'll see to it.

I'll take it.

I'm seeing her now.

- Name, please?

- Nyström, features editor.

Hello?

Hold on.

I have someone here.

What paper?

- The Year Round.

No reporters today.

It's dress rehearsal.

This is personal.

She's expecting me.

I know that trick.

No personal visits

during dress rehearsals.

Be a good fellow now.

Hack! The Year Round!

What's that smell?

- I don't smell anything.

- You've lost your sense of smell, friend.

Karl, take this to Miss Marie.

Be quick about it.

Hello? Call back later.

Something does smell funny.

That may well be,

but no outside brat's

gonna be telling me that!

I've worked at this theater

for 40 years!

- A letter for Miss Marie.

- Thanks, Karl.

Get out, Karl. We're changing.

"We"? Count me out!

Dear God!

Where's Marie?

Ask Karlsson.

Karlsson!

I can't stand male dancers.

Why aren't we starting?

- Something's going on with Marie.

Something's wrong with Marie.

Everyone says so.

We're starting. Places!

We're ready to go.

There's something strange

in the air today.

I told the missus so

first thing this morning.

The weather and all.

And I had a strange dream.

Something's going to happen.

I can feel it coming.

What the hell's going on?

- We'll have to find the problem.

- What problem?

A fuse must have blown.

This is awful!

It's not good.

- How long will it take?

- I can't say.

Take a break!

What did I tell you?

You feel it in your head and knees.

- You need anything, Marie?

- No, thanks.

Maybe a cup of coffee.

Very well.

I've never seen

such hideous toes.

New shoes are criminal.

I'm going to complain.

Marie, what's wrong?

You upset about something?

Shall I sing a song,

or shall we play a game?

Is it the autumn weather?

Or the younger girls calling us "ma'am"?

Tullan's sister called me that today.

She didn't last spring.

Are you lovesick?

Our faces look 45

while our bodies look 18.

We're 28, and the younger girls

call us "ma'am."

Kaj...

have you ever dreamt at night

and then woken up

feeling so mushy inside

that you wanted to cry?

And then tried hard to figure out

what the dream was about?

And then just forgot

the whole thing?

I couldn't say.

I've never had anyone

to dream about like that.

You wake up in the morning,

the dream fresh in your mind.

You feel all mushy inside.

What's that?

Oh, nothing.

Oh, that's nice.

We look great, of course,

but this job wears you down...

at least your toes.

And your immortal soul.

DIARY

What's wrong, Marie?

So many people die.

They say there's some kind of glitch.

Glitch? I bet we'll have

to rehearse tonight.

We never get to make love

at normal hours.

Out of the way, child.

There's apparently some glitch.

Sorry, Marie,

but we'll have to work tonight.

- There's a glitch.

- Exactly.

Just keep cool.

I'm cool as a cucumber.

Stay out of the way

and stop tripping people!

Tonight. And keep cool.

I'm cool.

Couldn't you just kill him?

She keeps herself in shape.

That's certainly true.

But her legs are too thick.

It's all muscle.

All classical dancers

have thick calves and thighs.

I guess you're right.

Mr. Nyström, please.

Strange she hasn't married

and had kids.

There's never the slightest shred

of gossip about her.

Because you've been throwing

reporters out of here for 40 years.

Bye, Nisse.

A Mr. Nyström came

asking for you earlier.

- When?

- Before rehearsal.

He seemed very determined,

but I sent him packing.

I've been trying to reach him!

They should send you packing!

That wasn't nice.

Bye-bye, Nisse.

There's something hard about her.

She was angry.

No wonder.

She's probably seeing that hack.

You think it's funny

scaring people?

- Were you daydreaming?

- I was yawning.

I'm tired because

you won't let me sleep at night.

Madam is getting on in years.

Don't joke about that.

We'll go to bed early tonight.

Afraid not.

We're rehearsing tonight.

But I got the time off,

and it wasn't easy!

You'll have to go out

with someone else.

You in a huff now?

With you it's always "the theater"!

- Let's go home.

- Now?

You're crazy.

- Why not?

I happen to have a job.

Forget it.

The papers are full as it is.

Forget about your rehearsal.

See?

With you it's always "the paper"!

See?

Can't you say anything else?

How about:

"I love you... in spite of everything."

How generous of you!

Another minute

and I'll lose my temper.

You have no reason to.

I can't stand old sourpusses!

So long.

But I really do feel sad.

David!

Get the lead out, little lady!

Are you coming or not?

- That was a close call.

- What's that?

You nearly didn't make it

out to your goats.

I mean, your...

What's that?

You want a soft drink?

Marie? You don't recognize me,

but I recognize you.

I recognize you, Reverend.

It's been a long time.

Yes, we haven't met

since my confirmation.

Yes, we have.

Why are you standing around

down there?

Your grog's getting cold.

I think it was 13 years ago.

The ballet school's

spring performance.

That performance...

A day of joy...

disappointment...

dashed hopes, tension...

hysteria, excitement.

A day like no other day

of the year.

Marie! Hold on.

That was awful.

The orchestra played too slow.

- Don't try that one.

- It didn't go well.

- No, but you were brilliant.

I'm going home

to have a good cry.

You do that.

Did you like it?

It was lovely.

- What do you want?

- I'm meeting someone.

- Who?

- I don't know.

Then get out.

I'm glad you appreciate ballet,

but we're busy now.

Off you go!

- It's cold.

- Are your legs cold, miss?

I mean,

in silk stockings and all.

I mean, since you're a dancer...

- How did you know that?

- I've seen you dance.

- When?

- Lots of times.

Especially your last performance.

I'm sitting here thinking...

that if I could say what I wanted,

I'd say...

What would you say?

- You'd laugh at me.

- You think so?

Go on. Tell me.

I'd say...

you're the most beautiful thing

I've ever seen in my life.

There.

Where are you staying

this summer?

On Kalvholmen.

And you, miss?

We have a house on Blåkråkan.

Oh, is that your place?

You know it?

Yeah. "The manor."

Gruffman and I used to raid

the orchard there.

His name is Gruffman,

because my sister and I argued

gruffly over what to name him.

Anyway, I'm staying at the manor.

Perhaps our paths will cross,

if only when you come

to raid the orchard.

Hello again!

Hello.

Is the water cold?

A bit, but the air's warm.

- Catching any fish?

- No, they're still asleep.

- Not going for a swim, miss?

- Too cold.

It's fine once you get in.

Try it, miss.

Think we could be

a bit less formal?

- I'm all in favor.

- It's easier to talk that way.

You staying out here?

Over there.

On Kalvholmen.

- Oh, right. You said that.

Are you hungry?

- Why?

Do you like wild strawberries?

I know a place.

Would you like to go?

- This is it.

- And no one knows about it?

- You do.

- No one else?

No one else.

Help yourself.

What kind of cuckoo is that?

I don't know much about birds.

I usually call it

"the summer vacation bird."

It would always sing

outside our window

the first morning

of summer vacation.

It would wake us up.

Do you live with your parents?

No, they're divorced.

I've never met my mom,

and my dad's with another woman.

He gives me money

to stay out of the way.

Wish I could do

the same with him.

Where do you and Gruffman live?

With an old hag...

With an old lady.

She has a mustache.

I love blind kittens.

Don't you?

And babies...

and people that other people

think are ugly.

And mice, of course.

And poodles.

It's not as bad as all that.

It's just that people

don't take me seriously.

Oh, dear...

is it really as tragic as all that?

No one cares about me

but Gruffman.

- Really? No one?

- No, only Gruffman.

What about me?

Do you care about me?

Would I have

brought you here if I didn't?

I'll have to give that

some serious thought.

I'm never going to die.

I may get really, really old,

but I'll never die.

Well, I'm scared

that I, Henrik,

will suddenly fall over the edge

into something

dark and unknown.

Why do you talk like that?

I don't know.

The feeling just comes over me,

clear as can be.

But it's interesting,

don't you think?

Besides, you started it.

Hey... the strawberries.

Oh, right.

Hey, Henrik...

I think we're going to be friends.

I think so too.

Hey... Marie.

Uncle Erland came

for a visit that week.

He gave me a bracelet

and kissed my hand.

He was very courteous

and charming.

We had wine with dinner.

Aunt Elisabeth drank a lot.

She went on about how things were

when my mother was alive.

But no one paid any attention.

I'll get the coffee.

Listen, don't call me "uncle."

At my age it's unsettling

to be "uncle"

to a lovely young woman.

So you think

I'm a lovely young woman?

You're a lot like your mother.

Did you give her presents too?

Everyone did, as tokens

of admiration for her artistry.

I think you were in love with her.

I admired her artistry.

She was an outstanding actress.

And is this bracelet

a token of admiration

for my artistry?

Listen, Marie...

if you weren't my old friend's daughter,

I'd tell you something.

But I won't.

- Do!

I cannot and dare not,

dear little girl.

Pretend I'm someone else,

like my mother.

We'd run away, you and I.

Run away?

Go far, far away

and live life to the fullest.

Live life to the fullest...

Seize the moment and hold it tight.

I already seize the moment

and hold it tight.

You think so, my poor little girl?

Lucky the man

who gets to teach you.

There's so much to life.

But Uncle Erland...

If you stop calling me "uncle,"

I'll stop calling you...

"My little girl."

There's a time for dancing.

I suppose you have

a little dancer boy with downy cheeks

with whom you dream

and quarrel and plan the future.

We don't have the time or inclination

for that in the ballet.

Is that the truth?

Don't be too sure, dear Erland.

I'm not sure at all, dear Marie.

One day you may have

to take me in hand and marry me.

Dare I hope?

You talk like an old book.

Of course you can hope!

One day you may take me...

I have to dash!

- We're having such a nice time!

I really have to dash.

Can't I come with you?

No, Uncle Erland, you can't.

Bye!

She's run off, dear Erland...

and you can't catch her.

- Are you mad?

- No.

Gruffman, why's he mad?

I told you I'm not.

If you say so.

But Gruffman and I can see

that his master's mad.

Stop being so silly.

Is it because I was late?

Not at all.

So it's something

Gruffman and I don't know about.

Who's this Uncle Erland?

Why do you two have such fun?

Are you sweet on him?

Uncle Erland!

That old codger?

He's no old codger.

Any idiot can see he's sweet on you.

If the shoe fits...

So now I'm an idiot too?

If he likes me,

that's his problem.

He's always running after you.

I saw him at your performance.

Is it as tragic as all that?

Come now.

Tell me all about your jealousy.

Dear, oh, dear...

is it as tragic as all that?

I got you!

One night,

after a scorching summer day

of blazing sunlight...

there was an immense silence

that reached all the way up

to the starless vault of heaven.

The silence between us

was immense as well.

The rocks are still warm.

Everything seems unreal tonight.

Don't you think?

- It's beautiful.

We're inside the same bubble.

It's so beautiful I could burst,

break into pieces,

and disappear without a trace.

You know, kissing must be fun.

Must be,

since everyone's doing it.

I've never been kissed.

Except by the ballet master,

but he doesn't count.

- What about your Uncle Erland?

- Him?

Have you ever kissed a girl?

Everything's so difficult,

and all connected somehow.

Marie...

I like you.

I'm in love with you, and all that.

I mean...

You must think I'm stupid.

I'm just a damned fool!

A damned coward!

- How does it feel?

- What?

You said you're in love with me.

You feel it

in your chest and stomach.

It's like your knees

are full of applesauce,

and your toes curl up.

But it's mostly in the chest.

- In the heart?

I don't know.

What about you?

Who said I was in love with you?

You're right.

I think it's in my skin.

I want you to touch me

and stroke my skin

with your hands.

It's in my shoulders and elbows...

and the palms of my hands.

It tickles all over.

Uncle Erland's probably a bit drunk,

but pay him no mind.

So there you are, children.

There are sandwiches

in the kitchen.

You get hungry at night.

When you go canoeing

in the moonlight.

Don't listen to him

when he's tipsy.

Your mother, Marie...

used to dance for me

on evenings like this...

when it was quiet and still

and moonlight filled the room.

We were alone.

Forgive me for taking the liberty

of saying we were alone,

but your father...

Forgive me, dear Elisabeth.

She'd sit over there...

and I'd play...

and gaze at her face.

I'd wonder if I was

inside reality or outside it.

Was everything around me...

the piano, the floor...

part of my imagination,

while only the moonlight

and the music

were real and substantial?

Now all the clocks

in the house have stopped...

and the flowers in the windows

have wilted and died.

But they were alive back then.

There were red geraniums...

and the clocks ticked away.

And outside, the gulls screeched.

You kids go on.

I'll stay and keep him company.

It was the ship's horn

in the distance...

and other things too:

the music and the moonlight...

the silence and the anticipation...

the blood whispering in our ears.

A strange mood set in...

almost like a melody.

A new room

opened up in our minds.

This is where I practice

during the summer.

Welcome.

The morning sun comes in here.

Two crows talk in the trees

every day at 4:00 a.m.

They're quite sweet.

Then your

"summer vacation bird" appears.

You sound like a museum guide.

I think we should kiss now.

Don't you think so?

Yes, I do.

- Don't worry. I locked it.

- Who is that?

It's just Uncle Erland.

Of course

I should go to bed, damn it!

Come along...

or you'll be ashamed

of yourself in the morning.

Poor Aunt Elisabeth.

Now you have a lover.

How does it feel? Exciting?

I'm sure you'll tell your friends.

Will you boast about us?

I can't give any guarantees,

but we will get married.

But now?

How do you feel right now?

Haven't you longed for this?

I never imagined it would be like this.

I was quite afraid, actually.

- And you're not now?

- No. Are you?

No, I'm never afraid of anything.

I am.

Don't talk about that now.

Actually, I'm hungry as a bear.

There are sandwiches in the kitchen.

Great!

And then we'll jump in the water!

Days like pearls,

round and lustrous,

threaded on a golden string.

Days filled with frolic and caresses.

Nights of waking dreams.

When did we sleep?

We had no time for sleep.

Nothing's ever surprised me

in my whole life.

But you were surprised this time.

I was thinking about you

five minutes ago.

I haven't thought

about anything in ten years.

Can I have a cup?

It's not the kind you used to like.

To be honest,

I never really liked that coffee.

This will do.

I'm not as fussy these days.

- No sugar, as usual?

- Actually, two lumps.

You never used sugar before.

That was someone else.

Yes, we're all getting on in years.

- What are you hunting?

- Grouse.

I'm always astonished

at all your leisure time.

What about you?

I just came here

on a sudden impulse.

Did you get the package?

What package?

I see.

It was you

who sent me Henrik's diary.

Where did you get it?

Why did you send it to me?

Why now?

So many questions.

Spring cleaning.

If you want to know more,

I'll tell you.

I made sure at the hospital

that it didn't fall

into strange hands.

You probably think

I should have turned it over then.

Was that the proper thing to do?

Why don't you say something?

It was nice seeing you, Erland.

But I have to go now

so I don't miss the boat

and have to spend

the night here with you.

- Does the thought frighten you?

- You bet it does.

Don't pretend things

would have been different

if you'd had the diary back then.

I stand here

looking at your hands.

They're beautiful hands...

yet ugly too somehow.

I can't explain why.

I think of Henrik's hands...

and I can't understand

why I let you touch me.

- So you think I'm disgusting?

- That's right.

- Maybe it even rubbed off on you.

- Yes, it did.

But now I know, and that's good.

- Shall I see you to the boat?

- No, I'll go by myself.

So it's you two.

- How much longer do you have?

- Until I'm done.

We were going to Björnö at 2:00.

Is it 2:00 already?

A quarter to 3:00.

I'm working, as you can see.

- You don't care about me.

- Silly.

I'm always waiting for you.

I have work to do.

- Thanks a lot.

- I'm done.

Don't sacrifice for my sake.

Don't touch me!

I'm sorry, but you know

how important my work is to me.

- What about me?

- You are too.

- Which is more important?

- What an odd question.

Answer me.

Which is more important?

- I don't know.

- See? You don't care about me.

And you're a selfish man.

We've never argued before.

- It's not my fault.

- Is it mine?

- If you're going to be like this...

- Then we can't be together?

Fine. Just say the word.

- That's not what I meant.

I'm just a hanger-on, right?

Henrik, don't be like that.

I'm nervous.

I haven't practiced much all summer,

and I start work in a week.

We've been together night and day

for two whole months.

Forgive me if I was curt.

- Everything all right now?

- Sure.

Good Lord, you're a pain today!

Here I am,

groveling and apologizing,

but you just go on moping.

Just go.

I'm fed up with your moods.

Come back!

Don't be silly.

I didn't mean it.

Fine! Then go!

I never want

to see you again, you idiot!

Get lost!

I remember it was a Saturday,

and I spent all day

looking for him.

In the evening

I went over to his place.

I'd never been there.

How do you do?

Is Henrik home?

Henrik is seldom home these days,

day or night.

I see.

I think he's in his room.

When he got back earlier,

he was crying up a storm

and kicking the furniture.

A glass of port, my dear?

- No, thank you.

As I always say,

everyone must be free to choose,

and I never force anyone.

Perhaps I'll go up and see him.

Just don't give in to his whims.

Why are you hiding there, Henrik?

To see if she'd bad-mouth me.

He eats my bread

yet uses that tone of voice.

It won't eat into your capital, Aunt.

You're shiftless and lazy, my boy.

- Fortunately I'm not your boy.

- No, you're your father's boy...

and you're both waiting

for me to die.

Henrik stands to inherit from me,

and the doctor says

I should have died three months ago.

The Lord moves

in mysterious ways.

I have cancer, you see.

The reverend says,

"Who seeks to own his life shall lose it,"

but that's a lie.

- "Who seeks to save his life."

- It's still a lie. I enjoy living.

That's why I'll outlive

the bunch of you...

including you, dear Henrik.

Perhaps I might draw

your attention to the fact

that my knight

is threatening your rook.

Nevertheless,

I still feel like a specter.

Bless you.

It's hay fever.

Are you sure about the port?

Not for me, thank you.

I'll get some blankets, Reverend.

It's getting chilly

for both the clergyman

and the old corpse.

If you're here

out of a Christian sense of duty,

I'm terribly impressed.

- I'm here out of professional interest.

- Meaning?

This may sound ridiculous,

but I have the strange feeling

I'm rubbing elbows here

with Death himself.

It's highly rewarding,

from a professional point of view.

But run along now, you two!

It sounds like a dance

down on the jetty.

Good-bye.

Now you know

what it's like where I live:

"shiftless and lazy."

Poor thing.

I guess it's not that bad.

No, you have me.

- Do I really?

- You have me.

- But earlier today...

- Hush!

You have me.

Let's go back to my little cabin.

It's no fun out tonight.

I'm freezing.

I dropped the pencil.

Listen. It's so quiet.

It suddenly got so still.

Perhaps we've landed

on another planet.

An alien planet.

An alien planet.

Hello, Miss Marie.

Do you recognize me?

Well, hello there.

I've seen you before.

My arms are so cold.

But my tummy and breasts

are feverishly hot.

Let me see.

You're tickling me!

Such fine breasts you have, miss.

How would you like

to sleep with me tonight?

With you?

You'd like that, wouldn't you?

That depends on the reward, sir.

I'm still a poor, innocent little virgin.

Then it's out of the question.

But if you'd consider engagement,

I promise you won't be disappointed.

Then we'll have to wait.

The goldsmith has taken Sunday off

and is lazing the day away.

My dear sir...

this kind of engagement is sealed

with rings of grass

and 24-carat kisses.

Shouldn't we swear by something?

You bet your life we should.

Swear...

you'll never ever look at another girl.

I swear.

Because if you do,

the devil will get you!

I swear.

And your teeth and nose and fingers

will turn black and fall off.

Nonsense!

As for me, I'll be faithful

for as long as I feel like it.

And since I always feel like it,

I'll be faithful till doomsday.

- Or the devil will get you.

- Or Uncle Erland will get me.

It would serve you right.

- Now we're engaged.

- You go in and undress.

I'll go answer nature's call.

- Me too.

I could gobble you up.

Where would you start?

With your hands and waist.

Then in between your thighs.

What would you know

about that, young man?

A cannibal I know

says it's delicious.

What an ominous sound!

What was that?

Don't you recognize the eagle owl?

What a horrible sound!

Did it frighten you?

I don't know.

I just feel like crying tonight.

It's like a toothache in my soul.

The soul's in the stomach...

that's where it hurts.

Too many green apples, that's all.

Hold me, Henrik.

Hold me so I don't break into pieces.

Henrik, my little darling.

My love.

My dearest darling...

my beloved friend.

Hold me tight.

Tighter.

Let's stay up all night

until the sun rises

and the trolls burst.

Henrik...

can you feel

how freezing cold I am?

How I'm shivering?

How my heart's pounding?

Don't be so silly.

You're always biting me.

You just wait.

We can't stay out here.

Carry me.

I can't walk.

My legs won't hold me up.

Then our plan is off.

Please carry me.

You're mad, tubby!

- You're not much of a lover.

- Then marry Superman.

No, his costume is such a bother.

Are you feeling sad?

- Can you feel autumn in the air?

- Yes.

On Thursday

you start back at the theater,

and I go to the university.

When will we meet again?

We still have three days here.

Yes... three days.

No, I'm not sad.

I'm not.

Auntie has invited us for dinner.

- Let's swim first!

- No, it's too cold.

- Come on!

- No, I don't want to.

Watch this great dive!

My back...

One, two, three, four!

Can you get me

a bottle for Thursday?

- I'll talk to my brother.

- Please try!

From the beginning!

Or I'll drown myself!

Promise me one thing:

You have to shoot Gruffman.

The poor thing

shouldn't have to live.

I'll see to it.

Poor thing.

Everyone's alive.

They run around in the streets.

And here I am,

eating and drinking.

At the theater

we dance and fool around.

And Henrik lies out there,

starting to rot.

A moment earlier

we were laughing about everything.

He lay in my arms.

I kissed his lips.

That's how life is.

Is there no meaning anywhere?

No, my child.

Nothing means anything

in the long run.

I don't believe God exists.

And if he does...

I hate him.

And I'll never stop.

If he were standing right here,

I'd spit in his face.

I'll hate him as long as I live.

And I'll never forget.

I'll hate him till the day I die.

There's only one thing

you can do:

protect yourself,

build a wall around yourself,

so the misery can't get to you.

I'll help you.

I'll help you build your wall.

I'll teach you, Marie.

That winter I worked hard,

putting everything else

out of my mind.

In the spring,

Uncle Erland took me on a long trip.

That's how I forgot Henrik.

The wall grew up around me.

In the end I wasn't just protected.

I was locked inside.

That's how I forgot Henrik.

I forgot Henrik...

Miss Marie...

that hack was here again.

I tried to keep him here,

but he left.

Karl can tell you:

I even followed him outside.

He did. I saw him.

That didn't make her happy either.

Women!

Who can understand them?

I never have.

Why put all this work

into these ballets?

They don't even show their legs,

at least not enough

to make it interesting.

Night rehearsals are hell.

And we've run out of beer.

That smell is still there.

Such a peculiar smell.

There really should be a law

against these shoes.

And tomorrow's opening night.

Go home to bed, silly girl.

Or come to my place for a drink.

You run along.

I don't feel like it.

Fine. Be that way.

Anyway, by this time tomorrow

you'll be happy.

- Why?

- Because it'll be over.

Over!

- I don't like that tone!

- I don't either.

But otherwise I'll start blubbering.

We're like painted dolls

suspended by strings.

If we cry, the paint runs.

Go on now.

Let me mourn my youth in peace.

See you.

Good evening, Marie.

Oh, it's you.

That's some getup.

Trying out a little makeup

for Coppélia.

So you're dancing on Saturday?

Yes, my old starring role.

Gustavsson is ill.

It's late.

An empty theater

feels so strange at night.

Strange and a bit spooky.

Dwarfs with humps and big heads

watch from every corner.

There they've stood for years,

their numbers growing

the older the theater gets,

their eyes glowing in the dark.

You have any matches?

Kaj must have some.

Well, well, Marie.

Are you laughing at me?

I walked in the ballet studio

this morning.

It was big and empty,

and the sun poured in.

There you were, alone,

in your black leotard,

bending and stretching

your arms and legs.

Slowly, quietly.

You didn't notice me.

It was as if you'd been sketched

in a few swift strokes.

And I thought...

"She's stood there like that

for 20 years,

morning, noon, and night.

Twenty years.

She has eight years left,

and then she's finished.

Out.

Toodle-oo."

What about you?

I'm the ballet master.

Don't forget that. I create.

I grow older and more esteemed,

no burden to anyone.

But you'll be given

your pension and sent packing.

Yet there you sit

in that clown costume

you don't dare take off.

What about your own costume?

It's true.

It's like it's branded onto my body.

Think I don't understand, Marie?

You don't dare take your makeup off,

and you don't dare put it on.

You don't dare leave,

yet you don't dare stay.

Nonsense!

You see

your life clearly just once...

when all your protective walls

have come tumbling down.

You stand there, naked and cold,

seeing yourself as you really are.

Just once.

Not a very edifying sight, is it?

At that moment you can't

bring yourself to live or die.

Did all that happen to you?

No, not me.

It's happening to you.

Today... this minute.

- No.

- Oh, yes.

I can see it in your eyes.

We want to be happy,

get something out of life.

We have our memories, don't we?

We want to start all over.

All lies, Marie.

Gibberish and nonsense.

You dance. Period.

That's your rule.

Stick to it,

or you'll get in trouble.

Take a look in the mirror.

You look ridiculous.

So do I, for that matter.

Thanks for the chat.

I say, someone's been

eavesdropping.

How did you get in?

Why did you run off this afternoon?

What a ghastly bowtie!

Like one of those pre-tied ones.

Well, don't just stand there

like a signpost!

Sit down and act

like a normal human being.

What are you gaping at?

Cat got your tongue?

Have you two met?

This is Coppélius, the magician.

And that's David... period.

The only person

nice to me in everyday life.

- Am I in the way?

- Or perhaps I am?

- I can leave right now.

- Why so soon?

- Your face looks so funny.

- I slapped her around a bit.

- As long as he doesn't bite you.

- Are you jealous?

Of that character? Hardly.

Young man...

I could turn you

into a lump of sugar, so beware!

Old man...

I could conjure away

your talent, your secrets,

and your good name

and standing in society.

I happen to be a journalist.

- Oh!

Great master,

you are the mightiest of all.

Your humble slave

awaits your orders.

- Scram.

- I go... slowly.

And I won't eavesdrop.

I have some manners.

I see it's raining.

Has it been raining long?

- Not at all.

The rain began at 9:15,

but it will stop within the hour.

There's a chance of rain tomorrow,

but the weather

on Saturday will be fine.

If you're going to be like that,

you can just go.

I'm not jealous!

I just don't get this job of yours.

Take that fool!

He's not a fool.

He's a very nice man.

But he made you cry.

You think

you never make me cry?

- That's different.

- Why?

He understands me. You don't.

Did you two have an affair?

For your information, no.

You can be so clumsy and vulgar!

Forgive me if I'm not an artist,

but I find all that kissing

and hugging distasteful.

Shows how little you understand.

Say that again

and I'll knock you one.

It just shows how little

you understand...

- Are you looking for a thrashing?

- No.

I'm just so tired.

- You always say that.

Well, I'm almost always tired

these days.

Why don't you give up your job

and get married?

Who would marry me?

Who do you think?

Certainly not you.

You don't love me.

Stop that.

Can't you be nice to me?

Why?

You'll only push me away.

I've longed for you all day.

- No, you haven't.

- I really have.

You never let me get close.

You don't need me.

You never let me take care of you.

You turn to that idiot

with the fake nose.

What do you know about me

or I about you?

No, go on.

No, I'm just a simple guy,

a tabloid hack.

What possible use

could I be to you...

the celebrated star?

That's not it at all!

You'll get makeup all over you.

Just show me where it hurts.

Don't talk to me like I'm a child.

I'm probably older than you.

I'm sure of it. I've always been

attracted to older women.

- You're such a fool.

- But admit you're hurting.

Marie, I may be very self-centered,

but sometimes

even I can see what's going on.

You have such round fingertips.

Such a nice little finger.

You should use a cigarette holder.

I never thought

I meant anything to you.

Imagine if I could tell

your fortune.

No, you might be disappointed.

You needn't be so self-sacrificing.

Let's stop this nonsense now.

Good idea. I'll call you tomorrow.

Perhaps you haven't noticed:

I'm here right now!

What do you think

of the two of us, really?

We're nothing to write home about.

You mean... you want to break up?

Yes.

- I don't believe you really do.

- Yes, I do.

- No.

- I do!

Is this some kind of game?

I know just what you'll say next.

"Take some vitamins."

"You need some sleep."

Or "You're just nervous

about opening night."

Is that so far off the mark?

Sweetheart...

- Go now, Henrik.

Is my name Henrik now?

Who's Henrik?

Go on now.

But here's some bedtime reading.

Take this and read it for tomorrow.

Then we'll talk.

Properly, for the first time.

Isn't that a good idea?

See you tomorrow, then.

Your ears are dirty, by the way.

Bye, sweetheart.

I feel like crying

all the way into next week.

Crying away all my shabbiness

and all the wasted time.

But it's funny.

I can't seem to cry.

Do I really want to cry

for a whole week?

A moment ago I did... but now?

Do I want to cry at all?

If I really look deep inside...

I'm actually... happy!

- Take your hat off.

- Yeah, sure.

Take your hat off!

- What are you doing here?

- I'm meeting someone.

- Who?

- Miss Marie.

I'm glad you appreciate ballet,

but we're busy now.

Go on!