Scenes from a Marriage (1973): Season 1, Episode 1 - Oskuld och panik - full transcript
- This room will be ideal for pictures.
- Sit here on the sofa.
SCENES FROM A MARRIAGE
Nice, isn't it?
Let's see some happy faces.
INNOCENCE AND PANIC
Smile. You too, Mom.
Watch the hair!
That's the shot.
- Are we done?
- I think so.
The girls can go, at any rate.
- Good job, girls.
- Go have your sandwiches.
Good as gold. Bye-bye.
How about some shots
of the husband and wife on the sofa?
Sure. Move forward.
Don't slouch down.
- I'll make myself look smaller.
- Make it a close-up.
Talk to each other.
- Marianne, turn your gaze a bit.
- Look as if you're fond of each other.
Now smile at each other.
Hold it. That's great.
I got my shot, thank you.
Take a few portraits too.
Well, let's get cracking.
I generally use a standard opener
to put people at ease.
- I'm not particularly nervous.
- All the better.
So, how would you describe yourselves
in a few words?
- That's tricky.
- Is it?
- I might give the wrong impression.
- You think so?
It sounds cocky if I say I'm bright,
youthful, successful and sexy.
My mind has a global scope,
I'm educated and a I'm a great mixer.
What else?
I'm a good friend,
even to those less fortunate than myself.
I'm sporty, and I'm a good father
and a good son.
I don't have any debts,
and I pay my taxes.
I respect our government,
no matter what.
I love our royal family.
I don't belong to the state church.
Is that good,
or do you want more details?
I'm a fantastic lover.
Isn't that right, Marianne?
Maybe we should skip that question.
Your turn, Marianne.
What can I say?
I'm married to Johan
and we have two daughters.
- I can't think of anything else.
- Sure you can.
- I think Johan is very nice.
- How kind of you.
- We've been married for ten years.
- Yes, I just renewed the contract.
I lack Johan's boundless self-assurance,
but in all honesty,
I'm happy I lead the life I do.
It's a good life,
if you know what I mean.
What else should I say?
This is difficult.
- She has a great figure.
- I'm trying to take this seriously.
- I have two girls, Karin and Eva.
- You said that already.
Let's move on to the particulars.
How old are you?
- I'm 42, but it doesn't show.
- I'm 35.
We come from ridiculously
bourgeois backgrounds.
Johan's father is a physician.
My mother is very much the mother.
My father is a lawyer.
It was decided early on
that I would become one too.
I'm the youngest of seven children.
My mother ran a large household.
- Nowadays she takes things easier.
- Oh, really?
Oddly enough, we enjoy
the company of our parents.
We see each other often,
and we rarely clash.
Maybe we should talk
about your professions.
I'm an associate professor
at the Psychotechnology Institute.
My field is family law.
I belong to a large law firm
and deal mostly with divorce.
The interesting thing about my job is —
Don't move! Hold that pose.
Take a picture and get that look.
Good. Great.
- Oh, that makes me feel —
- You'll get used to it.
How did you meet?
I'll leave that to Johan.
Now that's an interesting tale.
It wasn't love at first sight.
Both of us socialized quite a lot,
and we often ran into each other.
For many years we were
heavily involved in political causes
and belonged
to a drama group at school.
We weren't particularly
interested in each other.
I guess Marianne
thought I was conceited.
At the time, Johan was in a highly
publicized romance with a pop singer.
It gave him a certain image,
and he was cocky.
At 19, Marianne was married to a boy
whose only virtue was a rich father.
He was very kind,
and I was crazy about him.
I also got pregnant.
- But how did you —
- Get together?
Basically, it was Marianne's idea.
My baby died soon after it was born,
and my husband and I split up.
Johan's singer had given him
his walking papers.
Both of us were shaken,
so I suggested
we start seeing each other.
We weren't in love,
but both of us were unhappy.
We realized that we got along famously,
and our grades improved.
So we decided to live together.
We expected our mothers to be shocked,
but they weren't.
They became fast friends.
We were accepted as a couple
and got married six months later.
- By that time we were in love.
- Madly in love.
- People saw us as the perfect couple.
- And it's been that way ever since.
Without any hitches?
Our material needs are met.
We get on well
with all our friends and relations.
We have good jobs that we enjoy.
We're in good health.
And so on and so forth,
to an almost embarrassing degree.
Security, order, contentment, loyalty.
We're indecently fortunate.
We do have our disagreements,
but basically we get along well.
- Don't you ever quarrel?
- Marianne quarrels.
Johan is so slow to anger
that it takes the wind out of my sails.
That all sounds fabulous.
I heard someone say just last night
that the very lack of problems
could cause strife.
We're well aware
of the hazards of a life like ours.
Hazards? How do you mean?
The world is going to the dogs,
and I prefer to live and let live.
I'm entitled to simply
look out for number one.
It makes me sick
to hear about the latest panacea.
- I don't feel the same way as Johan.
- How do you feel?
I believe... in compassion.
Could you please expand on that?
If we all learned to care
about our fellow man from childhood,
the world would be different.
Hold that pose.
Look into the camera.
I'd better check in the kitchen.
The girls have to go to the dentist,
and I'm worried they might sneak off.
Bye.
To be honest, it's not that simple.
That's true.
How do you mean?
Once upon a time, we felt safe.
Nowadays we realize that bad things
can happen at any time.
That's the difference.
Are you afraid of the future?
If I dwelt on it,
I'd probably be paralyzed with fear.
Which is why I don't.
I like this old sofa and that lamp.
They create the illusion of being safe —
such a ridiculously fragile illusion.
I like Bach's St. Matthew Passion
even though I'm a nonbeliever,
because it creates
a sense of piety and community.
I depend heavily
on interaction with our relatives,
since it recreates the childhood
experience of feeling protected.
I enjoy Marianne's talk of compassion.
It soothes the conscience,
which acts up at inappropriate intervals.
Remaining content
requires a certain technique.
You need to put
a lot of effort into not caring.
I really admire people
who can laugh everything off.
I can't.
My sense of humor
isn't well-developed enough to pull that off.
Are you going to include that?
No, it would be
beyond our female audience,
if you'll excuse me
for saying such a thing.
What should we talk about now?
I've got lots of questions.
Would it be all right
if I made a call first?
Of course.
- I'm sorry it took so long.
- That's quite all right.
Where's Johan?
He had an urgent call to make.
I guess we'll have to amuse ourselves.
You know, I don't think
we've seen each other since school.
No.
Do you run into the old crowd often?
Not really.
It's so nice to see
that you and Johan get along so well.
You are truly happy, aren't you?
Everything you say sounds so wonderful.
But then again, someone
should be entitled to a perfect life.
I don't know about perfect,
but we're fortunate.
We're happy.
Could you define the word "happiness"?
Do I have to?
It's a women's magazine.
You have to.
If I said anything about happiness,
Johan would make fun of me.
No, I can't.
You'll have to make something up.
Don't be evasive.
Happiness is contentment.
There's nothing I really long for.
I want things to stay just the way they are.
What about fidelity?
Really, now.
Come on, help me flesh this out.
Johan's a dear, but nothing much
is said while he's around.
Fidelity.
Yes, fidelity. In a loving relationship.
What should I say?
In your line of work
you must have come across —
My personal belief
is that fidelity needs to be a given.
It can't be an obligation or a rule.
You can't promise fidelity.
Either you're faithful or you aren't.
I'm faithful to Johan
simply because I enjoy being faithful.
I don't know how I'll feel
tomorrow or next week.
Have you ever cheated on Johan?
This is getting a bit too personal.
I'm sorry.
I have one last question
while Johan is on the phone.
What about love?
You have to make
a statement about love.
That's what this series is all about.
- What if I don't want to?
- Then I'll make something up.
And I assure you, it won't be half as good.
No one ever told me what love was,
and I'm not sure you need to know.
But if you want a detailed description,
you can look in the Bible.
There Paul describes love.
Right, in Corinthians. It's beautiful.
The only problem is his definition
casts us in such a harsh light.
If Paul is right about love,
it's so rare that hardly anyone
ever experiences it.
But as a recital piece at weddings
and other special occasions,
it's certainly very effective.
Personally, I find it's enough
to be kind to the person you live with.
Affection is also good.
Humor, friendship, tolerance.
Having reasonable expectations.
If you have all that,
then love isn't necessary.
Why are you so upset?
At work I see people who collapse
under the weight
of unrealistic emotional demands.
I find it barbaric.
I wish —
What?
I find it difficult to get
the right perspective on this issue.
That's why I'm reluctant to discuss it.
But I wish people —
I wish we weren't forced to play
all these roles we don't want to play,
that we could be kinder to each other.
Don't you agree?
Yes, a more romantic life.
That's not actually what I meant.
I meant the exact opposite.
You see how poorly I express myself.
Maybe we should stick to tangible issues.
Why don't we discuss children
and cooking instead?
I guess we digressed a bit.
Yes, I think so.
So, how do you manage
having a career and a family?
Listen to this:
"Marianne's eyes are as blue
as a folk song and are lit up from within.
When I ask her how she copes with it all,
she smiles in shy delight
and replies that
she and Johan both pitch in."
Which happens to be true.
"'We understand each other,'
she replies,
brightening as Johan sits down
next to her on the heirloom sofa.
Protectively, he puts his arm around her,
eliciting a smile."
- Hey!
- Here comes the best bit.
"As I take my leave, I notice how
they secretly appreciate that fact
so they can bask in each other's
presence once more.
Two souls who have matured together
sharing a positive outlook,
yet never forgetting
to put love in the forefront."
We were mortified when we read it.
I considered taking action,
but our mothers adored the piece.
One thing gets me:
My eyes didn't get a mention.
Don't they shine with a secret light?
They're more like dark pools.
The effect is quite sexy.
Katarina has a crush on you.
- How about running off with me?
- A change would do Johan good.
He's lived a married life for ten years,
and he's never strayed.
Are you sure?
Certainly. From the get-go I decided
to believe everything Johan tells me.
Did you hear that, Katarina?
Well, I bet Johan is a better liar than you,
my silly little darling.
I'm afraid I have a limited imagination.
That's just it.
Less imagination makes for better liars.
Peter embroiders his tales too much.
It's almost touching.
I read your piece in Technical Times.
Even I could understand it.
- Actually, Katarina wrote it.
- Are you really that clever?
I was in Germany,
and they wanted an article on the spot.
So Katarina whipped one up
and read it to me over the phone.
Why does it have your byline?
It's not discrimination or anything.
We generally collaborate.
That's admirable.
Not if you consider how badly we get along.
Frankly, things are hell.
Cheers, honey!
Cheers.
But surely I can tell Johan
and Marianne how things are?
- What's wrong, Katarina?
- Nothing.
Peter can be such a clod.
That's all.
I'm a clod, all right.
I'm proud to be a clod
and to have an imagination.
The odd thing is that
Katarina thinks I'm a spineless jellyfish.
Oh, my!
Let's try to have a pleasant time
and not get into life's injustices.
That's why we shouldn't forget —
It's time for a little speech,
with reference to that blessed article
on the two of you.
Let's not forget that we are
in the presence of a happy home
that shouldn't be soiled
with our emotional crap.
Cheers, Marianne.
The meal was lovely.
I may not envy your domestic bliss,
but I do admire your culinary talents.
I mean it.
I really wish Katarina
could pick up a few pointers.
Katarina's a much better cook.
Peter thinks I poison his food.
It's a running joke at our house.
It was clear it was a joke, right?
One that's hard to digest.
Let's have some coffee
in the living room.
What should I do now?
I seem to have put my foot
in my mouth again.
The girls will clear the table.
Would you care for a cigar?
No, thanks.
I've given up smoking.
Really? Congratulations.
He got so irritable and antsy
that I begged him to start again.
But he won't, just to spite me.
I can't quit.
I'll end up as wrinkled as a mummy
and die of cancer, but so be it.
Would you happen to have some aspirin?
I've got a beastly headache.
Certainly.
I'll go with you.
That way the boys can air
their dirty secrets in peace.
Are you game for some chess?
Sure. Why not?
Pick a hand.
I had to get away.
I'm slightly tipsy,
which always makes me irritable.
Poor Peter.
He acts like a cornered rat.
Using convoluted language,
his eyes darting around the room.
Would you like to lie down?
No, thanks.
It's nice and quiet here.
You're kind, Marianne.
You're going through a rough patch,
aren't you?
You could say that.
Wouldn't a separation do you good?
We're headed for just the opposite.
We're going on
a long business trip abroad.
Our income hinges on collaboration.
The survival of our Italian company
depends on our collective efforts.
All these new synthetics need testing.
And my color schemes and patterns
may need modification.
Peter is an analytical genius.
Everything would fall apart
if we split up.
We can't afford to.
Why not just work together?
We've tried that.
I know.
Peter says other women
make him impotent.
I don't know if that's the truth,
but I think it is.
He goes crazy
if I turn away from him.
It's all right.
I like sleeping with him,
as long as I have
someone on the side.
Don't you have a lover?
No, Jan broke up with me.
So he finally did.
He detested leading a double life.
It looks like that's all I'm capable of.
So now the cage door
has slammed shut on our private hell.
Sometimes I hate Peter so much.
I want to torture him to death.
Some nights, when I can't sleep,
I dream up diabolical ways to hurt him.
Isn't there any way out of this?
I can't see one.
Have you ever
actually talked to Peter?
Now, that's touching.
Well, what did he say?
He said I should do
what I damn well please.
He's only interested in seeing
how much we can humiliate each other.
He calls it our dehumanization process.
Maybe he should see a doctor.
He did go see an analyst,
but he claimed the man was an idiot.
Maybe you should go away for a while.
One morning I woke up
to find the bed empty.
Guess where he was.
Out on a ledge on the eighth floor,
gazing down on the street below.
He told me not to worry, that he was
only trying to find out who he was.
I had to plead with him.
Finally, I told him to go ahead,
but that brought him in.
I wasn't going
to get off the hook that easily.
You two had it good once upon a time.
I still feel a certain
hopeless tenderness for him.
I understand the anxiety
and the feelings of emptiness,
disgust and fear.
He knows things about me too.
Things no one else knows.
He says I look like a woman
but that I'm a man through and through.
Maybe he's right.
I feel better now.
Shall we go back?
Yes, that sounds good.
It's pretty damn touching.
What is?
Your marriage.
Johan and Marianne.
It's so touching,
it brings tears to your eyes.
It makes one itch to puncture
that beautiful balloon of yours.
You would do that?
Cheers.
You've been married for ten years.
We just celebrated our tenth anniversary.
- No skeletons in the closet?
- You never know.
No, you never know.
Both Johan and I enjoy cleaning up.
Well, what do you know!
That's where we've been remiss:
the cleaning.
But that's going to change.
Next week I'll call Marianne
and have her arrange for our divorce.
Unfortunately, Peter will back down again
before he sobers up.
The adding machine
will start running, you see.
It will say,
"I'll go through with a divorce
if Katarina relinquishes
any claim on our Swiss assets."
To which I counter,
"It's my money. I earned it."
Then Peter will say, "I made it grow.
You can have the factory."
And I say, "Great.
A factory in Italy
with steadily rising labor costs."
Katarina, please —
"Take everything in Sweden.
The apartment, the summer cottage,
the boat, the stocks and bonds."
And then I say, "Damned nice of you
to leave me with the taxable assets."
Excuse me for putting
a damper on the evening
with such trivial matters.
But when Peter talks about splitting up,
then I know how drunk he is
and that insults are soon to follow.
It's like I always say:
Katarina is a businessman.
With equal emphasis
on both parts of the word.
Business... man.
She's also a brilliant artist.
And she has an IQ
of I don't know what.
And she's attractive too.
A real gem in a stunning package.
How such a paragon could ever
spread her legs for me is a mystery.
I think it's time to call a cab and go home.
It can't be pleasant for Johan and Marianne
to witness a scene like this.
Johan and Marianne!
They're candy figurines
wrapped in red ribbons,
like the gift-wrapped marzipan pigs
of our childhood.
It'll do their souls good
to catch a glimpse of the depths of hell.
August Strindberg once said,
"Could there be anything more terrifying
than a husband and wife
who hate each other?"
What do you say?
Child abuse could possibly be worse.
But then again,
Katarina and I are children.
Deep down,
Katarina is a little girl who cries
because no one comforts her
when she falls.
And in the opposite corner,
I'm a little boy
who cries because Katarina can't love me.
Even though I'm bad and mean to her.
Well, on the bright side,
there can't possibly
be anything worse than this.
That's why I think
we're ready for a divorce.
Only if you're sensible.
Only if the two of us simultaneously,
and in the presence of witnesses,
sign all the papers.
So neither of us can cheat the other.
We'll call you sometime this week.
We have a fine business lawyer.
Mr. Borglund can help you
with the business end.
What do you say, Katarina?
Even if our finances are resolved,
you'll never let me go.
I know that.
So you think
you're so bloody irreplaceable,
my dear Katarina?
Just when did this occur to you?
That would be interesting to know.
Couldn't you tell me? Tell us?
You force me to have sex with you,
since you can't
get it up with anyone else.
You have an insatiable need for guilt.
Now that it's over between you and Jan,
you feel desperate.
Now Peter's the only one who cares
and has the proper patience.
So you think you're the only one?
Isn't that touching?
You think I don't have anyone else.
Let me tell you something, Peter.
Forgive me for being so frank,
but Peter's challenging the truth,
and he needs to be enlightened.
I want you to know this:
I find you utterly repulsive.
In a physical sense, I mean.
I could buy a lay from anyone
just to wash you out of my genitals.
"Abide with me!
Fast falls the eventide;
The darkness deepens;
Lord, with me abide."
You son of a bitch!
"When other helpers fail
and comforts flee,
help of the helpless,
oh, abide with me."
Whatever that's supposed to mean.
I hope that won't stain the carpet.
I'm not sure about liqueurs.
- Send me the bill.
- No.
Do it!
Could you please
pour me a cup of coffee? I'm —
I'm pretty drunk.
Please forgive us.
We don't usually behave like this.
But you're our best friends.
Our only friends.
Forgive me.
Forgive us.
Call me a cab.
I'll take my bacchante home,
and we'll finish our little scene.
The finale is generally inappropriate
for an audience.
- What time is it?
- Ten past 12:00.
- I'm glad we got rid of them.
- Yes, things got a bit too festive.
Do you believe two people
can spend a lifetime together?
It's a ridiculous convention
passed down from God knows where.
A five-year contract would be ideal.
Or an agreement subject to renewal.
- Would that apply to us, too?
- No.
Why not?
We're the exception
that proves the rule.
So you think we'll stay together?
Now, that's a strange question.
Doesn't it bother you
to never get to sleep with anyone else?
- No. Does it bother you?
- Sometimes.
I'll be damned.
On a purely theoretical plane.
I wonder if something's wrong with me.
I don't have fantasies like that.
I'm content.
Well, so am I.
Oh, now I get it.
I know why Katarina and Peter
go through hell.
They don't speak the same language.
They have to translate everything
into a common language.
I think it's simpler than that.
You and I understand each other.
We speak the same language.
That's what makes us click.
I think it's the money.
If you speak the same language
and trust each other,
money is not a problem.
You and your languages.
I see it at work all the time.
Sometimes it's like husband and wife
are talking on telephones
that are out of order.
Sometimes it's like listening
to pre-programmed tape recorders.
Sometimes all you get
is the vast silence of outer space.
I don't know which is worst.
I have my doubts.
What if we were factory workers
and had to have the kids in day care?
It doesn't matter.
I don't agree.
If you speak the same language,
your environment isn't a factor.
That's a romantic point of view.
Would a life like that affect us?
Are you serious?
Yes, I'm serious.
We wouldn't get along as well?
I really mean it.
Regardless of language.
Isn't there just as much potential
for alienation and loneliness now?
Absolutely not.
A dull, strenuous job would
wear people down to a greater degree.
You're dumber than I thought.
- And you're the romantic, by the way.
- We'll see.
- And exactly what will we see?
- I don't know. Do you?
- You're teasing me.
- Yes, I am.
- Aren't you hungry?
- Yes, I'm ravenous.
How about a sandwich and a beer?
Sounds great.
Johan?
I have something to tell you.
Don't worry. It's nothing bad.
Now that sounds ominous.
What is it?
I'm pregnant.
- I told you that three weeks ago.
- I didn't want to worry you.
That was considerate.
What should we do?
- Do you want to have an abortion?
- I want this to be a joint decision.
- It's your decision.
- Why mine?
It's obvious.
You're the one who ends up
with the burdens and the delights.
You mean it's all the same to you?
Not at all.
What do you want? Truthfully.
It's not that easy.
- Is it so hard to be honest?
- You're being unreasonable.
What was your immediate reaction?
You know I don't have immediate reactions.
I'm an invalid in that regard.
Do you want to have another child?
I have nothing against it.
It might even be nice.
But you're not all that enthusiastic.
Give me an honest answer.
Why should I be honest all the time?
Tell me what you want.
I happen to have asked you first.
When did this accident happen?
You are on the pill, aren't you?
I forgot to take them
when we were on our trip.
- Why didn't you tell me?
- I figured it didn't matter.
Did you want to have a baby?
I don't know.
That's no answer.
Maybe I thought that if we got pregnant,
then it was meant to be.
Oh, my God! Come on!
A modern woman like you
who preaches birth control.
True, it doesn't really make sense.
I guess you've already
made your mind up.
I guess I hoped you'd be pleased.
Well, I am rather pleased.
- You haven't felt sick at all?
- I've never felt better.
Our mothers will be
beside themselves with joy.
What do you think the girls will say?
Right now they tolerate
anything we do.
One more act of stupidity on our part
could hardly matter.
They'll forgive us.
You know, I'll enjoy having a baby around.
And you're awfully cute
with a bulging tummy.
- What's wrong now?
- Nothing.
You're crying, so something's wrong.
- I'm telling you, it's nothing.
- There must be something.
Do you know what you want?
No.
- Maybe we don't want more kids.
- Do you think so?
Well, the prospect
of breast-feeding, all that laundry,
and getting up at all hours —
We've put that all behind us.
- I feel so guilty.
- Why?
Guilty that I wanted to have a baby
and looked forward to it,
only to change my mind
when it actually happened.
Why impose a moral aspect on it?
This is my fourth child.
One died and I'm going to kill one.
- You can't think like that.
- Well, I do.
- You've got to be practical.
- No, I don't.
What's the issue here?
The issue is love.
- Aren't you being a bit too intense?
- No.
Could you enlighten me?
No, I can't.
It's an emotional thing.
It's as if I no longer
perceived myself as being real.
You aren't real either.
Neither are the kids.
But this baby is real.
It could be the other way around.
We're pitiful, self-indulgent cowards
that can't connect with reality
and are ashamed of ourselves.
There's no affection,
love or joy in our lives.
We could very well have this baby,
and I was right to be pleased
and daydream about it.
I think it was an honest feeling.
I'm mature enough to be a mother now.
I don't understand.
It's like you've had the abortion already.
I have.
You can't judge yourself
for your thoughts.
This is a serious matter.
It will influence our future.
What if we do something
we can't take back?
What if we haven't realized
how serious this is?
What ridiculous, nebulous,
intangible demands.
They're pure superstition.
You don't understand.
Not one damn word makes sense.
We're trying to run away.
We're trying to avoid drama here,
which is healthy, in my opinion.
You don't look very happy.
I find this conversation distasteful.
Couldn't we have this baby
and just be happy about it?
Couldn't we enjoy our little slipup
and just love it for happening?
I've said all along that it would be nice.
You made this conversation difficult, not me.
Should we make a decision?
What decision?
To keep the baby.
All right, let's keep it.
I feel very relieved.
There's nothing strange about feeling torn.
- No, I suppose not.
- That's generally the way it is.
The issue wasn't really the baby.
No, I suppose not.
It was about you and me.
Hello there.
How are you?
I feel a little sick.
Was it rough?
Not really.
Could you lower —
Of course.
The doctor said you could come home
tomorrow or the day after.
I need to catch up on my sleep.
We could spend a week in the country
when you're up to it.
I can take some time off
after the tenth.
I asked your mother if she could
take the girls, and she agreed readily.
That might be nice.
I had dinner
with Gunnar and Sven yesterday.
They said that Sture might be sent
to Pretoria as an ambassador.
I wonder what Aina will think.
It will be a blow.
Giving up bridge
with Princess Christina on Fridays.
She'll never survive that.
- When will they know?
- Anytime now.
Did you tell the Egermans
we can't make it to their dinner party?
No, I forgot about that.
I'll do it right away.
Have you spoken to our parents?
I told them you had minor surgery,
scheduled on short notice
because the doctor was going abroad.
What did Mother say?
She oozed sympathy.
She could be here any moment.
That's what I'm afraid of.
I can call her and tell her to come later.
I can tell her you're asleep.
No, that would only make things worse.
- Are you in pain?
- Just a little sore, that's all.
I thought we might discuss
the summer cottage, if you're up to it.
Of course I am.
We could add on a nice veranda.
Like those old farmhouses have.
A blue one.
- Shouldn't we paint the whole house?
- Yes.
And we'd better fix the roof too.
- Can we afford it?
- Yes. It won't cost all that much.
- Why don't you talk to Gustav?
- I will.
Hold me.
Does that feel better?
Good.
I really regret doing this.
I really do.
You'll feel better tomorrow.
What have I done?
There's no point in dwelling on it.
In a few week's time
you'll have forgotten all about it.
- Do you think so?
- I'm convinced you will.
- I don't know how to get over this.
- Oh, darling.
Don't you think
you should try to rest now?
You see, I really have to go now.
Take care.
Bye.
- Give my love to the girls.
- Just get some sleep.
I'll tell the nurse you're resting
in case your mother should turn up.
That's probably a good idea.
Why don't you give her a call
and save her the trouble of coming?
You're a sweet man.
I'm glad you think so.
We'll have a nice time in the country.
We'll have lots of good food,
and we'll rest and watch TV.
And not think.
And we'll hold each other.
Sleep tight.
Don't forget to call the Egermans.
I won't.
This was the first episode of
Scenes From a Marriage.
It was called "Innocence and Panic."
And while you look at this footage of Fårö,
here are the credits.
The actors were Liv Ullman,
Erland Josephson, Bibi Andersson,
Jan Malmsjö, Anita Wall,
Roseanna Mariano and Lena Bergman.
Sven Nyqvist and his assistant
Lars Karlsson manned the cameras.
Wardrobe, Inger Pehrsson.
Props, Gunilla Hagberg.
Makeup supervisor, Cecilia Drott.
Audio and mix, Owe Svensson
and his assistant Arne Carlsson.
Editing, Siv Lundgren.
Script supervisor, Ulla Stattin.
Other contributors were
Anders Bergkvist, Stefan Gustafsson,
Lars Hagberg, Adolf Karlström,
Kent Nyström, Bo-Erik Olsson
and Siri Werkelin.
Lars-Owe Carlberg
was the production supervisor,
and the lab was Film Teknik.
Nils Melander designed the lighting effects
on Eastman Color film.
The series was produced on Fårö
by Cinematograph.
The year is 1973.
- Sit here on the sofa.
SCENES FROM A MARRIAGE
Nice, isn't it?
Let's see some happy faces.
INNOCENCE AND PANIC
Smile. You too, Mom.
Watch the hair!
That's the shot.
- Are we done?
- I think so.
The girls can go, at any rate.
- Good job, girls.
- Go have your sandwiches.
Good as gold. Bye-bye.
How about some shots
of the husband and wife on the sofa?
Sure. Move forward.
Don't slouch down.
- I'll make myself look smaller.
- Make it a close-up.
Talk to each other.
- Marianne, turn your gaze a bit.
- Look as if you're fond of each other.
Now smile at each other.
Hold it. That's great.
I got my shot, thank you.
Take a few portraits too.
Well, let's get cracking.
I generally use a standard opener
to put people at ease.
- I'm not particularly nervous.
- All the better.
So, how would you describe yourselves
in a few words?
- That's tricky.
- Is it?
- I might give the wrong impression.
- You think so?
It sounds cocky if I say I'm bright,
youthful, successful and sexy.
My mind has a global scope,
I'm educated and a I'm a great mixer.
What else?
I'm a good friend,
even to those less fortunate than myself.
I'm sporty, and I'm a good father
and a good son.
I don't have any debts,
and I pay my taxes.
I respect our government,
no matter what.
I love our royal family.
I don't belong to the state church.
Is that good,
or do you want more details?
I'm a fantastic lover.
Isn't that right, Marianne?
Maybe we should skip that question.
Your turn, Marianne.
What can I say?
I'm married to Johan
and we have two daughters.
- I can't think of anything else.
- Sure you can.
- I think Johan is very nice.
- How kind of you.
- We've been married for ten years.
- Yes, I just renewed the contract.
I lack Johan's boundless self-assurance,
but in all honesty,
I'm happy I lead the life I do.
It's a good life,
if you know what I mean.
What else should I say?
This is difficult.
- She has a great figure.
- I'm trying to take this seriously.
- I have two girls, Karin and Eva.
- You said that already.
Let's move on to the particulars.
How old are you?
- I'm 42, but it doesn't show.
- I'm 35.
We come from ridiculously
bourgeois backgrounds.
Johan's father is a physician.
My mother is very much the mother.
My father is a lawyer.
It was decided early on
that I would become one too.
I'm the youngest of seven children.
My mother ran a large household.
- Nowadays she takes things easier.
- Oh, really?
Oddly enough, we enjoy
the company of our parents.
We see each other often,
and we rarely clash.
Maybe we should talk
about your professions.
I'm an associate professor
at the Psychotechnology Institute.
My field is family law.
I belong to a large law firm
and deal mostly with divorce.
The interesting thing about my job is —
Don't move! Hold that pose.
Take a picture and get that look.
Good. Great.
- Oh, that makes me feel —
- You'll get used to it.
How did you meet?
I'll leave that to Johan.
Now that's an interesting tale.
It wasn't love at first sight.
Both of us socialized quite a lot,
and we often ran into each other.
For many years we were
heavily involved in political causes
and belonged
to a drama group at school.
We weren't particularly
interested in each other.
I guess Marianne
thought I was conceited.
At the time, Johan was in a highly
publicized romance with a pop singer.
It gave him a certain image,
and he was cocky.
At 19, Marianne was married to a boy
whose only virtue was a rich father.
He was very kind,
and I was crazy about him.
I also got pregnant.
- But how did you —
- Get together?
Basically, it was Marianne's idea.
My baby died soon after it was born,
and my husband and I split up.
Johan's singer had given him
his walking papers.
Both of us were shaken,
so I suggested
we start seeing each other.
We weren't in love,
but both of us were unhappy.
We realized that we got along famously,
and our grades improved.
So we decided to live together.
We expected our mothers to be shocked,
but they weren't.
They became fast friends.
We were accepted as a couple
and got married six months later.
- By that time we were in love.
- Madly in love.
- People saw us as the perfect couple.
- And it's been that way ever since.
Without any hitches?
Our material needs are met.
We get on well
with all our friends and relations.
We have good jobs that we enjoy.
We're in good health.
And so on and so forth,
to an almost embarrassing degree.
Security, order, contentment, loyalty.
We're indecently fortunate.
We do have our disagreements,
but basically we get along well.
- Don't you ever quarrel?
- Marianne quarrels.
Johan is so slow to anger
that it takes the wind out of my sails.
That all sounds fabulous.
I heard someone say just last night
that the very lack of problems
could cause strife.
We're well aware
of the hazards of a life like ours.
Hazards? How do you mean?
The world is going to the dogs,
and I prefer to live and let live.
I'm entitled to simply
look out for number one.
It makes me sick
to hear about the latest panacea.
- I don't feel the same way as Johan.
- How do you feel?
I believe... in compassion.
Could you please expand on that?
If we all learned to care
about our fellow man from childhood,
the world would be different.
Hold that pose.
Look into the camera.
I'd better check in the kitchen.
The girls have to go to the dentist,
and I'm worried they might sneak off.
Bye.
To be honest, it's not that simple.
That's true.
How do you mean?
Once upon a time, we felt safe.
Nowadays we realize that bad things
can happen at any time.
That's the difference.
Are you afraid of the future?
If I dwelt on it,
I'd probably be paralyzed with fear.
Which is why I don't.
I like this old sofa and that lamp.
They create the illusion of being safe —
such a ridiculously fragile illusion.
I like Bach's St. Matthew Passion
even though I'm a nonbeliever,
because it creates
a sense of piety and community.
I depend heavily
on interaction with our relatives,
since it recreates the childhood
experience of feeling protected.
I enjoy Marianne's talk of compassion.
It soothes the conscience,
which acts up at inappropriate intervals.
Remaining content
requires a certain technique.
You need to put
a lot of effort into not caring.
I really admire people
who can laugh everything off.
I can't.
My sense of humor
isn't well-developed enough to pull that off.
Are you going to include that?
No, it would be
beyond our female audience,
if you'll excuse me
for saying such a thing.
What should we talk about now?
I've got lots of questions.
Would it be all right
if I made a call first?
Of course.
- I'm sorry it took so long.
- That's quite all right.
Where's Johan?
He had an urgent call to make.
I guess we'll have to amuse ourselves.
You know, I don't think
we've seen each other since school.
No.
Do you run into the old crowd often?
Not really.
It's so nice to see
that you and Johan get along so well.
You are truly happy, aren't you?
Everything you say sounds so wonderful.
But then again, someone
should be entitled to a perfect life.
I don't know about perfect,
but we're fortunate.
We're happy.
Could you define the word "happiness"?
Do I have to?
It's a women's magazine.
You have to.
If I said anything about happiness,
Johan would make fun of me.
No, I can't.
You'll have to make something up.
Don't be evasive.
Happiness is contentment.
There's nothing I really long for.
I want things to stay just the way they are.
What about fidelity?
Really, now.
Come on, help me flesh this out.
Johan's a dear, but nothing much
is said while he's around.
Fidelity.
Yes, fidelity. In a loving relationship.
What should I say?
In your line of work
you must have come across —
My personal belief
is that fidelity needs to be a given.
It can't be an obligation or a rule.
You can't promise fidelity.
Either you're faithful or you aren't.
I'm faithful to Johan
simply because I enjoy being faithful.
I don't know how I'll feel
tomorrow or next week.
Have you ever cheated on Johan?
This is getting a bit too personal.
I'm sorry.
I have one last question
while Johan is on the phone.
What about love?
You have to make
a statement about love.
That's what this series is all about.
- What if I don't want to?
- Then I'll make something up.
And I assure you, it won't be half as good.
No one ever told me what love was,
and I'm not sure you need to know.
But if you want a detailed description,
you can look in the Bible.
There Paul describes love.
Right, in Corinthians. It's beautiful.
The only problem is his definition
casts us in such a harsh light.
If Paul is right about love,
it's so rare that hardly anyone
ever experiences it.
But as a recital piece at weddings
and other special occasions,
it's certainly very effective.
Personally, I find it's enough
to be kind to the person you live with.
Affection is also good.
Humor, friendship, tolerance.
Having reasonable expectations.
If you have all that,
then love isn't necessary.
Why are you so upset?
At work I see people who collapse
under the weight
of unrealistic emotional demands.
I find it barbaric.
I wish —
What?
I find it difficult to get
the right perspective on this issue.
That's why I'm reluctant to discuss it.
But I wish people —
I wish we weren't forced to play
all these roles we don't want to play,
that we could be kinder to each other.
Don't you agree?
Yes, a more romantic life.
That's not actually what I meant.
I meant the exact opposite.
You see how poorly I express myself.
Maybe we should stick to tangible issues.
Why don't we discuss children
and cooking instead?
I guess we digressed a bit.
Yes, I think so.
So, how do you manage
having a career and a family?
Listen to this:
"Marianne's eyes are as blue
as a folk song and are lit up from within.
When I ask her how she copes with it all,
she smiles in shy delight
and replies that
she and Johan both pitch in."
Which happens to be true.
"'We understand each other,'
she replies,
brightening as Johan sits down
next to her on the heirloom sofa.
Protectively, he puts his arm around her,
eliciting a smile."
- Hey!
- Here comes the best bit.
"As I take my leave, I notice how
they secretly appreciate that fact
so they can bask in each other's
presence once more.
Two souls who have matured together
sharing a positive outlook,
yet never forgetting
to put love in the forefront."
We were mortified when we read it.
I considered taking action,
but our mothers adored the piece.
One thing gets me:
My eyes didn't get a mention.
Don't they shine with a secret light?
They're more like dark pools.
The effect is quite sexy.
Katarina has a crush on you.
- How about running off with me?
- A change would do Johan good.
He's lived a married life for ten years,
and he's never strayed.
Are you sure?
Certainly. From the get-go I decided
to believe everything Johan tells me.
Did you hear that, Katarina?
Well, I bet Johan is a better liar than you,
my silly little darling.
I'm afraid I have a limited imagination.
That's just it.
Less imagination makes for better liars.
Peter embroiders his tales too much.
It's almost touching.
I read your piece in Technical Times.
Even I could understand it.
- Actually, Katarina wrote it.
- Are you really that clever?
I was in Germany,
and they wanted an article on the spot.
So Katarina whipped one up
and read it to me over the phone.
Why does it have your byline?
It's not discrimination or anything.
We generally collaborate.
That's admirable.
Not if you consider how badly we get along.
Frankly, things are hell.
Cheers, honey!
Cheers.
But surely I can tell Johan
and Marianne how things are?
- What's wrong, Katarina?
- Nothing.
Peter can be such a clod.
That's all.
I'm a clod, all right.
I'm proud to be a clod
and to have an imagination.
The odd thing is that
Katarina thinks I'm a spineless jellyfish.
Oh, my!
Let's try to have a pleasant time
and not get into life's injustices.
That's why we shouldn't forget —
It's time for a little speech,
with reference to that blessed article
on the two of you.
Let's not forget that we are
in the presence of a happy home
that shouldn't be soiled
with our emotional crap.
Cheers, Marianne.
The meal was lovely.
I may not envy your domestic bliss,
but I do admire your culinary talents.
I mean it.
I really wish Katarina
could pick up a few pointers.
Katarina's a much better cook.
Peter thinks I poison his food.
It's a running joke at our house.
It was clear it was a joke, right?
One that's hard to digest.
Let's have some coffee
in the living room.
What should I do now?
I seem to have put my foot
in my mouth again.
The girls will clear the table.
Would you care for a cigar?
No, thanks.
I've given up smoking.
Really? Congratulations.
He got so irritable and antsy
that I begged him to start again.
But he won't, just to spite me.
I can't quit.
I'll end up as wrinkled as a mummy
and die of cancer, but so be it.
Would you happen to have some aspirin?
I've got a beastly headache.
Certainly.
I'll go with you.
That way the boys can air
their dirty secrets in peace.
Are you game for some chess?
Sure. Why not?
Pick a hand.
I had to get away.
I'm slightly tipsy,
which always makes me irritable.
Poor Peter.
He acts like a cornered rat.
Using convoluted language,
his eyes darting around the room.
Would you like to lie down?
No, thanks.
It's nice and quiet here.
You're kind, Marianne.
You're going through a rough patch,
aren't you?
You could say that.
Wouldn't a separation do you good?
We're headed for just the opposite.
We're going on
a long business trip abroad.
Our income hinges on collaboration.
The survival of our Italian company
depends on our collective efforts.
All these new synthetics need testing.
And my color schemes and patterns
may need modification.
Peter is an analytical genius.
Everything would fall apart
if we split up.
We can't afford to.
Why not just work together?
We've tried that.
I know.
Peter says other women
make him impotent.
I don't know if that's the truth,
but I think it is.
He goes crazy
if I turn away from him.
It's all right.
I like sleeping with him,
as long as I have
someone on the side.
Don't you have a lover?
No, Jan broke up with me.
So he finally did.
He detested leading a double life.
It looks like that's all I'm capable of.
So now the cage door
has slammed shut on our private hell.
Sometimes I hate Peter so much.
I want to torture him to death.
Some nights, when I can't sleep,
I dream up diabolical ways to hurt him.
Isn't there any way out of this?
I can't see one.
Have you ever
actually talked to Peter?
Now, that's touching.
Well, what did he say?
He said I should do
what I damn well please.
He's only interested in seeing
how much we can humiliate each other.
He calls it our dehumanization process.
Maybe he should see a doctor.
He did go see an analyst,
but he claimed the man was an idiot.
Maybe you should go away for a while.
One morning I woke up
to find the bed empty.
Guess where he was.
Out on a ledge on the eighth floor,
gazing down on the street below.
He told me not to worry, that he was
only trying to find out who he was.
I had to plead with him.
Finally, I told him to go ahead,
but that brought him in.
I wasn't going
to get off the hook that easily.
You two had it good once upon a time.
I still feel a certain
hopeless tenderness for him.
I understand the anxiety
and the feelings of emptiness,
disgust and fear.
He knows things about me too.
Things no one else knows.
He says I look like a woman
but that I'm a man through and through.
Maybe he's right.
I feel better now.
Shall we go back?
Yes, that sounds good.
It's pretty damn touching.
What is?
Your marriage.
Johan and Marianne.
It's so touching,
it brings tears to your eyes.
It makes one itch to puncture
that beautiful balloon of yours.
You would do that?
Cheers.
You've been married for ten years.
We just celebrated our tenth anniversary.
- No skeletons in the closet?
- You never know.
No, you never know.
Both Johan and I enjoy cleaning up.
Well, what do you know!
That's where we've been remiss:
the cleaning.
But that's going to change.
Next week I'll call Marianne
and have her arrange for our divorce.
Unfortunately, Peter will back down again
before he sobers up.
The adding machine
will start running, you see.
It will say,
"I'll go through with a divorce
if Katarina relinquishes
any claim on our Swiss assets."
To which I counter,
"It's my money. I earned it."
Then Peter will say, "I made it grow.
You can have the factory."
And I say, "Great.
A factory in Italy
with steadily rising labor costs."
Katarina, please —
"Take everything in Sweden.
The apartment, the summer cottage,
the boat, the stocks and bonds."
And then I say, "Damned nice of you
to leave me with the taxable assets."
Excuse me for putting
a damper on the evening
with such trivial matters.
But when Peter talks about splitting up,
then I know how drunk he is
and that insults are soon to follow.
It's like I always say:
Katarina is a businessman.
With equal emphasis
on both parts of the word.
Business... man.
She's also a brilliant artist.
And she has an IQ
of I don't know what.
And she's attractive too.
A real gem in a stunning package.
How such a paragon could ever
spread her legs for me is a mystery.
I think it's time to call a cab and go home.
It can't be pleasant for Johan and Marianne
to witness a scene like this.
Johan and Marianne!
They're candy figurines
wrapped in red ribbons,
like the gift-wrapped marzipan pigs
of our childhood.
It'll do their souls good
to catch a glimpse of the depths of hell.
August Strindberg once said,
"Could there be anything more terrifying
than a husband and wife
who hate each other?"
What do you say?
Child abuse could possibly be worse.
But then again,
Katarina and I are children.
Deep down,
Katarina is a little girl who cries
because no one comforts her
when she falls.
And in the opposite corner,
I'm a little boy
who cries because Katarina can't love me.
Even though I'm bad and mean to her.
Well, on the bright side,
there can't possibly
be anything worse than this.
That's why I think
we're ready for a divorce.
Only if you're sensible.
Only if the two of us simultaneously,
and in the presence of witnesses,
sign all the papers.
So neither of us can cheat the other.
We'll call you sometime this week.
We have a fine business lawyer.
Mr. Borglund can help you
with the business end.
What do you say, Katarina?
Even if our finances are resolved,
you'll never let me go.
I know that.
So you think
you're so bloody irreplaceable,
my dear Katarina?
Just when did this occur to you?
That would be interesting to know.
Couldn't you tell me? Tell us?
You force me to have sex with you,
since you can't
get it up with anyone else.
You have an insatiable need for guilt.
Now that it's over between you and Jan,
you feel desperate.
Now Peter's the only one who cares
and has the proper patience.
So you think you're the only one?
Isn't that touching?
You think I don't have anyone else.
Let me tell you something, Peter.
Forgive me for being so frank,
but Peter's challenging the truth,
and he needs to be enlightened.
I want you to know this:
I find you utterly repulsive.
In a physical sense, I mean.
I could buy a lay from anyone
just to wash you out of my genitals.
"Abide with me!
Fast falls the eventide;
The darkness deepens;
Lord, with me abide."
You son of a bitch!
"When other helpers fail
and comforts flee,
help of the helpless,
oh, abide with me."
Whatever that's supposed to mean.
I hope that won't stain the carpet.
I'm not sure about liqueurs.
- Send me the bill.
- No.
Do it!
Could you please
pour me a cup of coffee? I'm —
I'm pretty drunk.
Please forgive us.
We don't usually behave like this.
But you're our best friends.
Our only friends.
Forgive me.
Forgive us.
Call me a cab.
I'll take my bacchante home,
and we'll finish our little scene.
The finale is generally inappropriate
for an audience.
- What time is it?
- Ten past 12:00.
- I'm glad we got rid of them.
- Yes, things got a bit too festive.
Do you believe two people
can spend a lifetime together?
It's a ridiculous convention
passed down from God knows where.
A five-year contract would be ideal.
Or an agreement subject to renewal.
- Would that apply to us, too?
- No.
Why not?
We're the exception
that proves the rule.
So you think we'll stay together?
Now, that's a strange question.
Doesn't it bother you
to never get to sleep with anyone else?
- No. Does it bother you?
- Sometimes.
I'll be damned.
On a purely theoretical plane.
I wonder if something's wrong with me.
I don't have fantasies like that.
I'm content.
Well, so am I.
Oh, now I get it.
I know why Katarina and Peter
go through hell.
They don't speak the same language.
They have to translate everything
into a common language.
I think it's simpler than that.
You and I understand each other.
We speak the same language.
That's what makes us click.
I think it's the money.
If you speak the same language
and trust each other,
money is not a problem.
You and your languages.
I see it at work all the time.
Sometimes it's like husband and wife
are talking on telephones
that are out of order.
Sometimes it's like listening
to pre-programmed tape recorders.
Sometimes all you get
is the vast silence of outer space.
I don't know which is worst.
I have my doubts.
What if we were factory workers
and had to have the kids in day care?
It doesn't matter.
I don't agree.
If you speak the same language,
your environment isn't a factor.
That's a romantic point of view.
Would a life like that affect us?
Are you serious?
Yes, I'm serious.
We wouldn't get along as well?
I really mean it.
Regardless of language.
Isn't there just as much potential
for alienation and loneliness now?
Absolutely not.
A dull, strenuous job would
wear people down to a greater degree.
You're dumber than I thought.
- And you're the romantic, by the way.
- We'll see.
- And exactly what will we see?
- I don't know. Do you?
- You're teasing me.
- Yes, I am.
- Aren't you hungry?
- Yes, I'm ravenous.
How about a sandwich and a beer?
Sounds great.
Johan?
I have something to tell you.
Don't worry. It's nothing bad.
Now that sounds ominous.
What is it?
I'm pregnant.
- I told you that three weeks ago.
- I didn't want to worry you.
That was considerate.
What should we do?
- Do you want to have an abortion?
- I want this to be a joint decision.
- It's your decision.
- Why mine?
It's obvious.
You're the one who ends up
with the burdens and the delights.
You mean it's all the same to you?
Not at all.
What do you want? Truthfully.
It's not that easy.
- Is it so hard to be honest?
- You're being unreasonable.
What was your immediate reaction?
You know I don't have immediate reactions.
I'm an invalid in that regard.
Do you want to have another child?
I have nothing against it.
It might even be nice.
But you're not all that enthusiastic.
Give me an honest answer.
Why should I be honest all the time?
Tell me what you want.
I happen to have asked you first.
When did this accident happen?
You are on the pill, aren't you?
I forgot to take them
when we were on our trip.
- Why didn't you tell me?
- I figured it didn't matter.
Did you want to have a baby?
I don't know.
That's no answer.
Maybe I thought that if we got pregnant,
then it was meant to be.
Oh, my God! Come on!
A modern woman like you
who preaches birth control.
True, it doesn't really make sense.
I guess you've already
made your mind up.
I guess I hoped you'd be pleased.
Well, I am rather pleased.
- You haven't felt sick at all?
- I've never felt better.
Our mothers will be
beside themselves with joy.
What do you think the girls will say?
Right now they tolerate
anything we do.
One more act of stupidity on our part
could hardly matter.
They'll forgive us.
You know, I'll enjoy having a baby around.
And you're awfully cute
with a bulging tummy.
- What's wrong now?
- Nothing.
You're crying, so something's wrong.
- I'm telling you, it's nothing.
- There must be something.
Do you know what you want?
No.
- Maybe we don't want more kids.
- Do you think so?
Well, the prospect
of breast-feeding, all that laundry,
and getting up at all hours —
We've put that all behind us.
- I feel so guilty.
- Why?
Guilty that I wanted to have a baby
and looked forward to it,
only to change my mind
when it actually happened.
Why impose a moral aspect on it?
This is my fourth child.
One died and I'm going to kill one.
- You can't think like that.
- Well, I do.
- You've got to be practical.
- No, I don't.
What's the issue here?
The issue is love.
- Aren't you being a bit too intense?
- No.
Could you enlighten me?
No, I can't.
It's an emotional thing.
It's as if I no longer
perceived myself as being real.
You aren't real either.
Neither are the kids.
But this baby is real.
It could be the other way around.
We're pitiful, self-indulgent cowards
that can't connect with reality
and are ashamed of ourselves.
There's no affection,
love or joy in our lives.
We could very well have this baby,
and I was right to be pleased
and daydream about it.
I think it was an honest feeling.
I'm mature enough to be a mother now.
I don't understand.
It's like you've had the abortion already.
I have.
You can't judge yourself
for your thoughts.
This is a serious matter.
It will influence our future.
What if we do something
we can't take back?
What if we haven't realized
how serious this is?
What ridiculous, nebulous,
intangible demands.
They're pure superstition.
You don't understand.
Not one damn word makes sense.
We're trying to run away.
We're trying to avoid drama here,
which is healthy, in my opinion.
You don't look very happy.
I find this conversation distasteful.
Couldn't we have this baby
and just be happy about it?
Couldn't we enjoy our little slipup
and just love it for happening?
I've said all along that it would be nice.
You made this conversation difficult, not me.
Should we make a decision?
What decision?
To keep the baby.
All right, let's keep it.
I feel very relieved.
There's nothing strange about feeling torn.
- No, I suppose not.
- That's generally the way it is.
The issue wasn't really the baby.
No, I suppose not.
It was about you and me.
Hello there.
How are you?
I feel a little sick.
Was it rough?
Not really.
Could you lower —
Of course.
The doctor said you could come home
tomorrow or the day after.
I need to catch up on my sleep.
We could spend a week in the country
when you're up to it.
I can take some time off
after the tenth.
I asked your mother if she could
take the girls, and she agreed readily.
That might be nice.
I had dinner
with Gunnar and Sven yesterday.
They said that Sture might be sent
to Pretoria as an ambassador.
I wonder what Aina will think.
It will be a blow.
Giving up bridge
with Princess Christina on Fridays.
She'll never survive that.
- When will they know?
- Anytime now.
Did you tell the Egermans
we can't make it to their dinner party?
No, I forgot about that.
I'll do it right away.
Have you spoken to our parents?
I told them you had minor surgery,
scheduled on short notice
because the doctor was going abroad.
What did Mother say?
She oozed sympathy.
She could be here any moment.
That's what I'm afraid of.
I can call her and tell her to come later.
I can tell her you're asleep.
No, that would only make things worse.
- Are you in pain?
- Just a little sore, that's all.
I thought we might discuss
the summer cottage, if you're up to it.
Of course I am.
We could add on a nice veranda.
Like those old farmhouses have.
A blue one.
- Shouldn't we paint the whole house?
- Yes.
And we'd better fix the roof too.
- Can we afford it?
- Yes. It won't cost all that much.
- Why don't you talk to Gustav?
- I will.
Hold me.
Does that feel better?
Good.
I really regret doing this.
I really do.
You'll feel better tomorrow.
What have I done?
There's no point in dwelling on it.
In a few week's time
you'll have forgotten all about it.
- Do you think so?
- I'm convinced you will.
- I don't know how to get over this.
- Oh, darling.
Don't you think
you should try to rest now?
You see, I really have to go now.
Take care.
Bye.
- Give my love to the girls.
- Just get some sleep.
I'll tell the nurse you're resting
in case your mother should turn up.
That's probably a good idea.
Why don't you give her a call
and save her the trouble of coming?
You're a sweet man.
I'm glad you think so.
We'll have a nice time in the country.
We'll have lots of good food,
and we'll rest and watch TV.
And not think.
And we'll hold each other.
Sleep tight.
Don't forget to call the Egermans.
I won't.
This was the first episode of
Scenes From a Marriage.
It was called "Innocence and Panic."
And while you look at this footage of Fårö,
here are the credits.
The actors were Liv Ullman,
Erland Josephson, Bibi Andersson,
Jan Malmsjö, Anita Wall,
Roseanna Mariano and Lena Bergman.
Sven Nyqvist and his assistant
Lars Karlsson manned the cameras.
Wardrobe, Inger Pehrsson.
Props, Gunilla Hagberg.
Makeup supervisor, Cecilia Drott.
Audio and mix, Owe Svensson
and his assistant Arne Carlsson.
Editing, Siv Lundgren.
Script supervisor, Ulla Stattin.
Other contributors were
Anders Bergkvist, Stefan Gustafsson,
Lars Hagberg, Adolf Karlström,
Kent Nyström, Bo-Erik Olsson
and Siri Werkelin.
Lars-Owe Carlberg
was the production supervisor,
and the lab was Film Teknik.
Nils Melander designed the lighting effects
on Eastman Color film.
The series was produced on Fårö
by Cinematograph.
The year is 1973.