Tilbury (1987) - full transcript
In the year 1940 when there were British forces in Iceland, a country boy goes to Reyjavik to work for the army. He also wants to know what became of his childhood sweetheart. He soon discovers that she's having an affair with a British soldier. Moreover, he starts to suspect that the soldier, instead of being an officer and a gentleman, is in fact a very peculiar kind of monster.
The picture for this release was sourced
from a 16mm negative.
The audio was sourced from a
one inch video master.
Icelandic folktales tell of a magic
practice that women sometimes resorted to
long ago in times of hunger and hardship.
In order to come by more butter
than their own farms could produce,
they would bring to life a tame imp,
called in Icelandic a “tilberi”.
They made the tilberi from a
human rib wrapped it in wool
and kept it between their breasts.
They could send the tilberi out to suck
milk from other people's cows and sheep.
When the tilberi came back to its mistress,
it would say: “Here's a bellyful Mommy”
to which she would reply:
“Let it out, son!”
Then it would disgorge butter
of an unusual consistency,
and butter that looked like this
was known as tilberi-butter.
If the sign of the cross was made over
this butter, it revealed its evil origin.
The woman could live on this butter
while the tilberi itself fed from a nipple
inside the thigh of its mother or mistress.
If the tilberi was discovered
by anyone else,
it attacked the woman and sucked
so violently as to kill her.
Communion wine was necessary to
bring the tilberi to life
between the woman's breasts.
Audun, will you come
and see me when you're ready?
Was the church full?
- Not by half.
People have so many other
distractions nowadays.
Like sports, for example.
But man does not live
by bread alone.
I've just had a letter.
From Gudrun?
No, from the Reverend Runolfur,
my colleague in Reykjavik.
Does she still practice
as hard as ever?
Practice? Oh, you mean
swimming.
He doesn't say.
But he says he saw her
a lot at Easter.
An odd way of dealing
with a weakness for drink.
Which she might have got
from her mother.
It's as if the devil himself
is loose in Reykjavik.
And now you're going there,
I hear?
Yes. I need a bigger pool
to train in.
Yes, of course.
A bigger pool.
“Launch out into the deep,
young man!”
And now to the point.
I want you to ask about
my Gudrun
and to talk to her yourself.
You were confirmed together,
and she'll be more open with
you than with Reverend Runolfur.
And then drop me a line.
“Shame on this age...
and on its lost principles!”
Reykjavik
Spring 1940
Left, right, left, right...
Hurry up with
those sandbags, boys!
I'm supposed to report
for work somewhere here.
Are you the new man?
What's your name?
Audun Thorarinsson.
Audun with one n.
Help the lads
to get on with this.
Hymn of the Passion No. 31:
Christ's sermon to the women.
How do you like working for
the Brits?
- It's all right.
Can't you try and learn
some manners from them too?
Like using a knife
and fork?
Sigrun, you haven't touched
your supper!
No, I'm feeling
a bit off-color.
I think I'll go out
for a bit of fresh air.
Fresh air!
“See how fickle is this world's fame,
Insincere, false, deceiving.
Heed not, my soul, its praise or blame,
Its false pretense perceiving.”
You are the same age
and were confirmed together.
She wasn't like that then!
“The blood of Christ.
The cup of life.”
“The blood of Christ.
The cup of life.”
“The blood of Christ.
The cup of life.”
Now we're grown-ups, Audun.
At least Gudrun and I are.
It means that games aren't
make-believe any more.
What games?
Lie down.
Swimming Pool
Open... Closed...
They've got red ones here as well.
- Hey.
Chewing gum?
Chewing gum!
Oi! What the hell's going
on over here?
Go! Get a move on!
What's this then?
What's this supposed to mean?
Milk?
Milk is for babies, not for men.
Get back to work,
you lazy git!, go on! Go on!
Hello!
Is that yours?
- So it seems Sir.
Have some chocolate too!
Cheerio, old chap!
And keep on swimming!
How come the lowest form of life
knows Major Tilbury then?
Aye?
What the fuck are you doing,
you little Eskimo leper you?
Oh what a godforsaken
fucking country!
Ready Steady...
Leave me alone!
What have I done to you?
Let me go!
Let me go!
What's happening?
Should we call the police?
Bardi Kemp charged with
illegal possession of arms!
And they've built a gun
emplacement at the pool.
Why did he have to go
waving a starting-pistol?
Perhaps the British heard
he was a Nazi.
He only swam
at the Berlin Olympics.
And splashed Hitler, didn't he?
By mistake. He dived badly
and splashed into Hitler's box.
He was kicked out of
the competition.
And then he went to Ysufjord to teach
you and Gudrun how to swim?
Do you know Gudrun Innness?
Sightly. Saw her last at a dance
at the weekend.
I've been Rooking for her
all summer.
I have a message
from home for her.
She seems to have
stopped swimming.
Maybe she'll start again
now the British go to the pool
and Bardi Kemp's
out of the way.
Hey youl!
Tell us who you are!
I shan't put this water in my Scotch.
But you can put it in your pipe
and smoke it.
Our officer, Major Tilbury
is quite an eccentric chap,
don't you think?
- How do you like
his homemade butter?
♪ - For he's a jolly good fellow... ♪
Audun! I thought
you were a ghost!
What do you want?
- I thought I saw
Gudrun over there.
- Yes it's her.
Give her a chance
to come and say hello.
It mustn't be known
that a parson's daughter...
But to answer
the call of nature...
- Who was with her?
- With her? Only me.
She was taken short,
and there are so few places.
No, wait!
You don't understand.
It's so easy
for you men.
- This is sacrilege and
disrespect to the dead!
Audun! Good to see you,
though not like this.
- Who was with you?
- What do you mean?
He thinks we're going
with the soldiers.
Audun, what's the meaning
of all this?
- I should be asking that.
Your father asked me
in the spring to check on you.
I don't think he would like
to hear about this.
- You've been here
all summer then?
A pity we didn't
meet before now.
Don't be so jumpy.
Remember, there's
a war going on.
It's serious. Not a game
like in the old days.
You were always
such a baby.
You never understood
anything.
Bardi Kemp was getting
so keen on me..
Already back at home.
Did something happen to you?
You know how it is.
I wanted to do things my way...
To be independent...
But then you find out...
- Have you had it
looked at?
- What?
Oh, that!
I cut myself
on some barbed wire.
I'm not supposed to swim
till it heals.
But I don't care since
Bardi Kemp out of the way.
- You must keep in practice.
It would be a sin not to.
- You're right. Everything else
would be a sin.
Who is Gudrun's partner?
He even turns up late!
I thought the British
were so well-mannered.
- He's one of the top brass.
A major.
An aristocrat
related to the Royal family.
They have it posh
at the officers' table, don't they?
We always said at home
that Gudrun would at least
be a bishop's wife.
- But no one thought
she would marry into
the British royal family..
- They're not exactly
planning on marriage..
- Why not?
- They say divorce isn't
easy in Britain.
- You mean..
Hell, no!
Heavens above! Gudrun,
the parson's own daughter,
having an affair
with a married man.
- Don't go telling her father
about this.
Who says they're
even in love?
She told me she regards him
more as a father.
Anyway, he's a gentleman.
Knows how to eat
with a knife and fork.
Not like your ordinary
Icelandic yokel.
Sorry. I didn't mean
to hurt your feelings...
- To think that the daughter
of the Reverend Thornton Guinness
has found herself a new father
in the British army!
It's not this one, is it?
- Good Lord, no.
I shouldn't have
told you all that.
You mustn't tell
her father.
She doesn't really think
of Tilbury as her father.
He's really more her son.
- What?
- Well, he's all alone,
completely lost in this country...
- Is his name Tilbury?
- Yes.
Like some chocolate?
- Half! Thanks.
You could offer me
a drink too.
The Brits don't stop at
giving girls Cadburies...
- What would you like?
- Double gin and tonic, thanks.
- I'll go and look
for a waiter.
Get outta here you!
Look! Get over here!
That's no way to treat a lady,
you bastard, you!
Get this fucker over here!
Get him out! Come on!
Jesus Christ, I'm
going to throw up.
I need some help over here!
Gudrun Innness. Innness
with three n's... Remember!
- Lie down.
- Learn to use a fork
like a gentleman.
Here's a bellyful, Mommy!
- Let it out, son.
Audun!
- Bardi Kemp
Are you here?
- Yes, ever since Gudrun
denounced me for Nazism
and had me locked up.
- What?
- Don't pretend! I heard
you shout out in your sleep.
You called out,
"Tilbury!"
- So what? I had a nightmare.
- You must know about Gudrun.
She's got a tiiberi.
Even though she dresses him
in a British uniform.
Tilbury is a tilberi
which she brought to life.
- Atiiberi! But that's
just superstition!
- Is it? Put two and two
together, man!
Look at her with the wine
in church,
and going into the graveyard
and then that plaster
on her thigh...
You should see her home
at Asvallagata 32.
It's full of various products!
That's the Jewish mentality
that goes with the occupation.
Sell your soul
for trash and sweets!
- You're still a Nazi, Bardi.
How do you know it was she
who had you locked up
and not this... Tilbury?
- She knew I was onto
the truth about her.
She had to get rid of me.
I surprised her making
Cadbury's chocolate
from tiiberi-butter.
She begged me
not to tell anyone,
because then she would be
doomed in the Devil's power!
I wasn't going to let her
get away with it.
But she acted first and
denounced me to the Brits.
Now you must get me
out of here!
So I don't have to wait till
Germany wins the war.
- I wouldn't hurt Gudrun.
- But if I get my hands
on Tilbury...
Audun! Go away! He'll
kill me if he finds you here!
He will not starve you
to death, anyway!
That's true. He's
a super provider.
Have some more chocolate!
Go away! Hide!
You must hide somewhere!
Here's a bellyful, Mommy.
Let it out, son.
So you speak Icelandic,
you filthy swine!
Reykjavik
Autumn 1941
What the hell is that all about?
That chap's been pestering us
for months.
He wants us to find
a certain major
who, he claims is responsible
for the death of an Icelandic girl.
- Is it anything I should pass on
to my military police?
- No no no.
There's no record of this major
ever been in the British army.
No records whatsoever.
The chap's quite mad.
I suppose he can't get used
to the fact that he lost his girl
to the British soldiers.
Yeah, well they must find it pretty hard
to take around here,
bunch of backwater peasants
and fishermen.
Suddenly swamped with thousands
of foreign troops.
- Yeah, I suppose so.
There was one thing though
this crazy Icelander was talking about,
about this major. This particular
major was always puking butter.
Because of this fact he was supposed
to be some kind of Icelandic ghost.
- Butter!
-Butter.
It's these we need.
Not butter.
- Well, we Americans will make sure
you'll get all the guns you need.
Is that the big shot?
I'll be damned if it
isn't old General Tilbury himself.
What the hell is he doing
in this Godforsaken place?
Let it out, son.
from a 16mm negative.
The audio was sourced from a
one inch video master.
Icelandic folktales tell of a magic
practice that women sometimes resorted to
long ago in times of hunger and hardship.
In order to come by more butter
than their own farms could produce,
they would bring to life a tame imp,
called in Icelandic a “tilberi”.
They made the tilberi from a
human rib wrapped it in wool
and kept it between their breasts.
They could send the tilberi out to suck
milk from other people's cows and sheep.
When the tilberi came back to its mistress,
it would say: “Here's a bellyful Mommy”
to which she would reply:
“Let it out, son!”
Then it would disgorge butter
of an unusual consistency,
and butter that looked like this
was known as tilberi-butter.
If the sign of the cross was made over
this butter, it revealed its evil origin.
The woman could live on this butter
while the tilberi itself fed from a nipple
inside the thigh of its mother or mistress.
If the tilberi was discovered
by anyone else,
it attacked the woman and sucked
so violently as to kill her.
Communion wine was necessary to
bring the tilberi to life
between the woman's breasts.
Audun, will you come
and see me when you're ready?
Was the church full?
- Not by half.
People have so many other
distractions nowadays.
Like sports, for example.
But man does not live
by bread alone.
I've just had a letter.
From Gudrun?
No, from the Reverend Runolfur,
my colleague in Reykjavik.
Does she still practice
as hard as ever?
Practice? Oh, you mean
swimming.
He doesn't say.
But he says he saw her
a lot at Easter.
An odd way of dealing
with a weakness for drink.
Which she might have got
from her mother.
It's as if the devil himself
is loose in Reykjavik.
And now you're going there,
I hear?
Yes. I need a bigger pool
to train in.
Yes, of course.
A bigger pool.
“Launch out into the deep,
young man!”
And now to the point.
I want you to ask about
my Gudrun
and to talk to her yourself.
You were confirmed together,
and she'll be more open with
you than with Reverend Runolfur.
And then drop me a line.
“Shame on this age...
and on its lost principles!”
Reykjavik
Spring 1940
Left, right, left, right...
Hurry up with
those sandbags, boys!
I'm supposed to report
for work somewhere here.
Are you the new man?
What's your name?
Audun Thorarinsson.
Audun with one n.
Help the lads
to get on with this.
Hymn of the Passion No. 31:
Christ's sermon to the women.
How do you like working for
the Brits?
- It's all right.
Can't you try and learn
some manners from them too?
Like using a knife
and fork?
Sigrun, you haven't touched
your supper!
No, I'm feeling
a bit off-color.
I think I'll go out
for a bit of fresh air.
Fresh air!
“See how fickle is this world's fame,
Insincere, false, deceiving.
Heed not, my soul, its praise or blame,
Its false pretense perceiving.”
You are the same age
and were confirmed together.
She wasn't like that then!
“The blood of Christ.
The cup of life.”
“The blood of Christ.
The cup of life.”
“The blood of Christ.
The cup of life.”
Now we're grown-ups, Audun.
At least Gudrun and I are.
It means that games aren't
make-believe any more.
What games?
Lie down.
Swimming Pool
Open... Closed...
They've got red ones here as well.
- Hey.
Chewing gum?
Chewing gum!
Oi! What the hell's going
on over here?
Go! Get a move on!
What's this then?
What's this supposed to mean?
Milk?
Milk is for babies, not for men.
Get back to work,
you lazy git!, go on! Go on!
Hello!
Is that yours?
- So it seems Sir.
Have some chocolate too!
Cheerio, old chap!
And keep on swimming!
How come the lowest form of life
knows Major Tilbury then?
Aye?
What the fuck are you doing,
you little Eskimo leper you?
Oh what a godforsaken
fucking country!
Ready Steady...
Leave me alone!
What have I done to you?
Let me go!
Let me go!
What's happening?
Should we call the police?
Bardi Kemp charged with
illegal possession of arms!
And they've built a gun
emplacement at the pool.
Why did he have to go
waving a starting-pistol?
Perhaps the British heard
he was a Nazi.
He only swam
at the Berlin Olympics.
And splashed Hitler, didn't he?
By mistake. He dived badly
and splashed into Hitler's box.
He was kicked out of
the competition.
And then he went to Ysufjord to teach
you and Gudrun how to swim?
Do you know Gudrun Innness?
Sightly. Saw her last at a dance
at the weekend.
I've been Rooking for her
all summer.
I have a message
from home for her.
She seems to have
stopped swimming.
Maybe she'll start again
now the British go to the pool
and Bardi Kemp's
out of the way.
Hey youl!
Tell us who you are!
I shan't put this water in my Scotch.
But you can put it in your pipe
and smoke it.
Our officer, Major Tilbury
is quite an eccentric chap,
don't you think?
- How do you like
his homemade butter?
♪ - For he's a jolly good fellow... ♪
Audun! I thought
you were a ghost!
What do you want?
- I thought I saw
Gudrun over there.
- Yes it's her.
Give her a chance
to come and say hello.
It mustn't be known
that a parson's daughter...
But to answer
the call of nature...
- Who was with her?
- With her? Only me.
She was taken short,
and there are so few places.
No, wait!
You don't understand.
It's so easy
for you men.
- This is sacrilege and
disrespect to the dead!
Audun! Good to see you,
though not like this.
- Who was with you?
- What do you mean?
He thinks we're going
with the soldiers.
Audun, what's the meaning
of all this?
- I should be asking that.
Your father asked me
in the spring to check on you.
I don't think he would like
to hear about this.
- You've been here
all summer then?
A pity we didn't
meet before now.
Don't be so jumpy.
Remember, there's
a war going on.
It's serious. Not a game
like in the old days.
You were always
such a baby.
You never understood
anything.
Bardi Kemp was getting
so keen on me..
Already back at home.
Did something happen to you?
You know how it is.
I wanted to do things my way...
To be independent...
But then you find out...
- Have you had it
looked at?
- What?
Oh, that!
I cut myself
on some barbed wire.
I'm not supposed to swim
till it heals.
But I don't care since
Bardi Kemp out of the way.
- You must keep in practice.
It would be a sin not to.
- You're right. Everything else
would be a sin.
Who is Gudrun's partner?
He even turns up late!
I thought the British
were so well-mannered.
- He's one of the top brass.
A major.
An aristocrat
related to the Royal family.
They have it posh
at the officers' table, don't they?
We always said at home
that Gudrun would at least
be a bishop's wife.
- But no one thought
she would marry into
the British royal family..
- They're not exactly
planning on marriage..
- Why not?
- They say divorce isn't
easy in Britain.
- You mean..
Hell, no!
Heavens above! Gudrun,
the parson's own daughter,
having an affair
with a married man.
- Don't go telling her father
about this.
Who says they're
even in love?
She told me she regards him
more as a father.
Anyway, he's a gentleman.
Knows how to eat
with a knife and fork.
Not like your ordinary
Icelandic yokel.
Sorry. I didn't mean
to hurt your feelings...
- To think that the daughter
of the Reverend Thornton Guinness
has found herself a new father
in the British army!
It's not this one, is it?
- Good Lord, no.
I shouldn't have
told you all that.
You mustn't tell
her father.
She doesn't really think
of Tilbury as her father.
He's really more her son.
- What?
- Well, he's all alone,
completely lost in this country...
- Is his name Tilbury?
- Yes.
Like some chocolate?
- Half! Thanks.
You could offer me
a drink too.
The Brits don't stop at
giving girls Cadburies...
- What would you like?
- Double gin and tonic, thanks.
- I'll go and look
for a waiter.
Get outta here you!
Look! Get over here!
That's no way to treat a lady,
you bastard, you!
Get this fucker over here!
Get him out! Come on!
Jesus Christ, I'm
going to throw up.
I need some help over here!
Gudrun Innness. Innness
with three n's... Remember!
- Lie down.
- Learn to use a fork
like a gentleman.
Here's a bellyful, Mommy!
- Let it out, son.
Audun!
- Bardi Kemp
Are you here?
- Yes, ever since Gudrun
denounced me for Nazism
and had me locked up.
- What?
- Don't pretend! I heard
you shout out in your sleep.
You called out,
"Tilbury!"
- So what? I had a nightmare.
- You must know about Gudrun.
She's got a tiiberi.
Even though she dresses him
in a British uniform.
Tilbury is a tilberi
which she brought to life.
- Atiiberi! But that's
just superstition!
- Is it? Put two and two
together, man!
Look at her with the wine
in church,
and going into the graveyard
and then that plaster
on her thigh...
You should see her home
at Asvallagata 32.
It's full of various products!
That's the Jewish mentality
that goes with the occupation.
Sell your soul
for trash and sweets!
- You're still a Nazi, Bardi.
How do you know it was she
who had you locked up
and not this... Tilbury?
- She knew I was onto
the truth about her.
She had to get rid of me.
I surprised her making
Cadbury's chocolate
from tiiberi-butter.
She begged me
not to tell anyone,
because then she would be
doomed in the Devil's power!
I wasn't going to let her
get away with it.
But she acted first and
denounced me to the Brits.
Now you must get me
out of here!
So I don't have to wait till
Germany wins the war.
- I wouldn't hurt Gudrun.
- But if I get my hands
on Tilbury...
Audun! Go away! He'll
kill me if he finds you here!
He will not starve you
to death, anyway!
That's true. He's
a super provider.
Have some more chocolate!
Go away! Hide!
You must hide somewhere!
Here's a bellyful, Mommy.
Let it out, son.
So you speak Icelandic,
you filthy swine!
Reykjavik
Autumn 1941
What the hell is that all about?
That chap's been pestering us
for months.
He wants us to find
a certain major
who, he claims is responsible
for the death of an Icelandic girl.
- Is it anything I should pass on
to my military police?
- No no no.
There's no record of this major
ever been in the British army.
No records whatsoever.
The chap's quite mad.
I suppose he can't get used
to the fact that he lost his girl
to the British soldiers.
Yeah, well they must find it pretty hard
to take around here,
bunch of backwater peasants
and fishermen.
Suddenly swamped with thousands
of foreign troops.
- Yeah, I suppose so.
There was one thing though
this crazy Icelander was talking about,
about this major. This particular
major was always puking butter.
Because of this fact he was supposed
to be some kind of Icelandic ghost.
- Butter!
-Butter.
It's these we need.
Not butter.
- Well, we Americans will make sure
you'll get all the guns you need.
Is that the big shot?
I'll be damned if it
isn't old General Tilbury himself.
What the hell is he doing
in this Godforsaken place?
Let it out, son.