You have to believe in your heart.
You have to do what comes into your heart.
You have to do what you want. What do you feel in your heart?
You have to repeat that.
You have to compare your heart with your feeling.
You have to know what you want,
do something calm and not something wild,
look around or something.
You have to listen to your nature.
(Fast orchestral music)
(The music fades away.)
(Dial tone)
This is Tom Lunies' voicemail. Speak after the tone. - (Beeps)
(coughing) Tom?
(croaking) It's your mother. Call me, please. It's about Dad.
(Busy tone)
(Busy tone ends.)
Oh.
(Knocking) (Woman, hesitantly) Hello?
(louder) Hello? - Oh.
Hello?
(trembling) Oh.
Your husband was upstairs with me again.
Gerd wanted to get help.
He wasn't wearing any pants. - He shouldn't do that.
I was worried... - We're not feeling well right now.
Can I help you? - No. You don't have to.
I'm just going to rest a little, OK?
Well, fine, yes. Good.
Have you called a doctor?
Yes. Yes.
(Gerd) Lissy?
(Mumbling)
Lissy?
(annoyed) Gerd, I'm here.
This can't go on like this anymore, Mrs. Lunies.
Thank you, we'll be fine. - Or?
Thank you!
(Crackling) - (Lissy) Gerd! What...
What are you doing? You don't want to take a shower. Come on.
We have to go! - Go on? Where are we going?
Come out, you're making everything wet. Come on, Gerd. Come out of there.
Out, out, out.
Okay, good. Don't fall.
Go to the kitchen. Take your pills, OK?
Yes?
(The door closes.)
(Groaning)
Have you taken your pills? - Yes.
(She sighs.)
(weakly) Lissy? Where are you?
(She groans.) - (Phone rings)
No idea what goes where.
(Phone rings)
(groans) Hm? - (Tom) Hello, Mom. Sorry, it's busy.
Yes. - How are you? Has Ellen called?
Dad... Dad... Dad is not well.
He keeps running out, without putting anything on. I...
I can't do anything.
He doesn't listen to me. - Is it worse?
Yes, much, much worse.
Shit.
Yes, it's the same for me right now...
Liv's baby is here. - Ah.
Is she okay, mom, and the baby?
Yes, yes, everyone is fine.
I was there, I...
I gave birth to it.
It's a shame it's not your child.
Oh, Mom, that's not...
Are you back together? - Not for ten years.
Does she still not like the father of her child?
Yes... Can...
Can I do anything for you? - Tom, sorry, I wanted to...
Aber that's all not very nice, is it?
Should I come? - Is that possible? You always have to work a lot.
Yes, I actually always have to work. But...
Let me. I have to sort things out and then I'll get in touch, OK?
I'll call tomorrow or the day after, and we'll arrange something.
Okay, Tom, we'll do that. Great. - Yes?
Yes, sure. - Mhm.
Yes, good.
See you tomorrow. - Yes, take care, Tom.
Yes? - Yes.
You too. You too. I'll be in touch. - Tom?
Yes. See you tomorrow. - Take care, Tom.
(Busy tone)
(Honks repeatedly)
(Honks)
(sighing) Oh, Gerdi.
You're not supposed to drive anymore.
Slide over.
But you have to guide me, I can't see anything anymore.
You can give me the stick. - Yes.
(Gerd) A cyclist from the left. - Ah. - Yes.
(Gerd) And now a car from the right.
(Gerd) Now. Now you can.
(Gerd) Step on the gas.
(Gerd) There's a trailer here.
Watch out! Child! - (Tires squeal.)
(Distant dog barking)
Hi, Mrs. Lunijes. How are you today? - Lunies. Quite good today.
Come in. - Should I make coffee? - No, it's fine.
Yes. Go through. You know your way around. There.
Please, I can take care of my visitor on my own.
This is not a visitor. This is a man from the health insurance company.
Is this how many times he's come? - For the third time.
You have to make a bad impression if you want more money.
(quietly) You need more money.
Oh God, what is that? - Gerd drew it.
Didn't your daughter want to come today? - Yes.
How long for personal hygiene every day?
(hesitantly) Half an hour. Or an hour.
Mr Lunies can no longer shower alone. Neither of them can.
Or, Mrs Lunies? - How much? More like half an hour or a whole hour?
Good. I'll only enter 45 minutes. You go to the toilet alone.
Or? - Yes. If I have to go small, it takes me two minutes,
and if I have to go big, eight minutes.
I'm sorry, but it's not enough for a higher level of care.
It's gotten worse!
I need help! We'll give you that.
Already now. At least 364 euros every month.
But for an increase, the need must be higher.
I have to deduct a certain tolerance. - A tolerance?
Insured people tend to exaggerate their suffering.
Completely understandable. - You think that I'm sitting here and lying?
No, no. - Yes? - No, no.
Every perception... - Yes? - ...is individual.
Oh, individual is lying, right? - No, I didn't say that.
Please don't get upset, Ms... Ms...
They're both called Lunies! Man, how naive are you?
Don't you see that she's doing the opposite?
And pulling herself together and feeling ashamed that she shits herself every night?
No, not every night. - Is that right? That you're pulling yourself together?
Yes, of course that's the case!
In our opinion, someone who can make a good impression
is able to take care of themselves. - (astonished) That can't be...
Oh! - (Gerd) Lissy?
Lissy?
When... When... When is that woman leaving again?
The woman is leaving again soon, Gerdi.
(Lissy breathes loudly.)
(She gasps for air.)
(Gerd whispers quietly.)
(gasps for air) Gerd.
Gerd. Gerd! Help.
Help. Gerd!
(Painful groaning)
(Panic gasping, rattling breath)
Help!
(coughs) Help!
(Lissy, panicking) Help! Help!
Help!
(Gasping) - (Door is closed.)
(Ringing) - (Neighbor) Mrs. Lunies? - Help!
(Ringing) - Mrs. Lunies?
(Gerd's breathing is shaking.) - Help! - Mrs. Lunies?
(Lissy whimpers.) - Mrs. Lunies?
(Lissy stammers.)
Oh man! Shit.
(short-winded groaning)
Oh God. Mrs. Lunies? - (groaning)
Mrs. Lunies? Yes, yes. Mrs. Lunies?
Stroke? Heart attack? - Help!
I'll get a doctor, OK? I'll get one...
(Lissy gasps.)
(Neighbor) Hello? (louder) Hello?
(annoyed) Oh!
(Quiet babble of voices)
Hello.
Are you feeling better? - (Loud intestinal gas)
I... - Just air. Or something solid?
It's from the pills, my mother had them too.
Where is Gerd?
We took him to a home, around the corner by the Red Cross.
First in short-term care.
Has his own room. He's doing well.
(stomach rumbling)
I can help you in the future.
I'm nearby. I could check on you three times a day.
And you can, of course, call me anytime if...
I can go shopping, maybe clean and...
Are you a nurse? - Nope.
I was a hairdresser. - Oh, I see.
You can do my hair. - But not completely for free.
My late husband was self-employed.
No widow's pension, I don't need much...
Five euros an hour. - Ten.
Eight.
It's not about the money. I just have to... - Yes, yes.
Okay. Eight.
Good.
(Loud birds chirping)
Oh! Mr. Lunies. You should stay in the home.
Where is Lissy? - Well, in the hospital.
We took her to the hospital. Heart attack.
Hospital? - Yes.
No. - Yes! Come on, I'll take you back.
Come with me. - But I have to help Lissy.
Yes. - She's not well. I think...
She had a heart attack. - Yes, that's true.
But don't we want to go downstairs and put something on?
That's why... That's why I have to help Lissy.
I have to help her.
(Remix on the radio: "Prelude and Fugue in C major" by Bach)
(Distant piano playing)
(She plays Bach's melody.)
(Lissy makes a mistake.)
I didn't know you could play the piano. - I can't.
I never had lessons. We didn't have the money for that.
I played the accordion. For the children. - Mhm.
But when I hear something on the radio, I can play it back. Always have.
Tom got that from me, the music. Gerd can't hold a note.
At Christmas in church, I sat down. He couldn't help it.
(crooked) "Oh, you happy one, oh, you see..."
Tea? - (Lissy coughs.)
No, I don't like tea. - Anything else? Juice spritzer?
(jingling)
One more thing, Mrs Lunies...
Your Gerd comes
over from the home more often.
Why? Why? - He has a permanent place. He knows that too.
But he often comes and wants to come in. I let him sometimes.
How often? How often does he come?
Actually, every day.
Is he allowed to do that? - Of course. The home isn't a prison.
On the contrary. If he wants to go, he goes.
I'd just be glad that he's putting on something warm.
It's slowly getting colder. - Mhm.
He's probably happy that you're back.
Mh.
I have to go upstairs for a moment to hang up the laundry.
I'll check back later, OK?
(The door closes.)
(Rain patters)
(Lissy groans.)
(The doorbell rings.)
(Rain patters more violent.)
(Wind noise)
(Crackling continues.)
(Muffled, suffering sounds)
(Clattering)
(Approaching footsteps)
Mr. Lunies, come You? Dinner.
Not hungry again? That's not right. You have to eat.
You're making us weak. Come on.
Come on, Mr. Lunies. - (Quiet orchestral music)
Very good.
It's going really well today. Keep it up.
Yes, that's up to you. - (laughs) You old charmer.
So, Mr. Lunies.
Today we're having delicious liver sausage and a bit of cheese.
I'll help you.
Slowly.
Yes.
Very good. And if you need anything, call me, okay?
And, Mr. Lunies, we're actually eating today, okay?
(The orchestral music gets louder.)
(Emotional strings)
(Celebratory orchestral music)
(English) Stop! Thank you. You're doing really well.
But please be careful at the beginning.
In order to work out the pathos at the end,
we have to start cautiously.
(quietly) You're going to be a dad. Liv is calling. - My cell phone. Where is it? - Here.
Short break!
Partner, this is how the world ends, before the first shot is fired.
Bernard, you talk to them. It's your piece.
Good luck!
(Liv) Hey, it's starting soon. You have rehearsal, but please come here soon, OK?
Tom? My water broke. Why aren't you answering your phone?
You can't spend three days... - (beeping)
(screaming) - (beeping)
(Lissy, coughing) Tom?
(croaking) It's your mother. Call me, please. It's about Dad.
Sorry, no reception. - I'm here because Liv wanted me to.
I have to call my mother. - She's in the bedroom. - (squeaks)
(groaning)
(groaning) - Wasn't it agreed that your mother wouldn't be here?
Never mind. - Tom, we're going.
I have to call my mother. - Now! - I'll do it later.
And in.
(groaning) - (squeaking)
The dog can't come in. - I think she's coming. Tom!
Tom! - She's coming! - Yes, what?
Does Moritz know? - (Liv) Yes!
Very good. - (moaning)
(gently) You're doing well. - (Liv) Yes.
Give me one more strong push. - Exactly! Go on.
(Liv) Don't go so far away. Please don't. - No, no.
Yes, you are! - I'm here. - Oh God!
And? Already there?
(Muffled moaning)
(The moaning gets louder.)
One more contraction. - Head is there.
Great.
(Liv moans powerfully.) - And once again deep into the belly.
(Liv gasps.) - (Baby cries)
(Soft music)
(Crying subsides.)
(Liv mumbles something.) - (The baby smacks its lips quietly.)
Then let's weigh the little one. - Yes.
I'll take her with me. - Okay.
(She screams again.)
You did well.
Call your mom.
Yes, I will.
Always keep one hand on the child.
(Knocking)
(Liv's mother) Excuse me. The father is here.
(The gentle music ends.)
And? - You can come in now.
How's the situation? Is she OK? - Baby is here, breathing, crying.
(sighs with relief) - Everything's fine.
Come on, go in. Your child is waiting in there.
Hello, Mom. - (coughs) Yes. - Sorry, it's busy.
How are you? Has Ellen called? - Dad is not feeling well.
He keeps running out, without putting anything on.
I can't do anything.
He doesn't listen to me. Is it worse?
Yes, much worse.
Shit!
Yes, it's the same for me right now... Liv's baby is here.
Is she okay, the mom, and the baby?
Yes, yes, everyone is fine.
I was there, I...
I gave birth to it. - Aha.
It's a shame it's not your child. - Oh, Mom, that's not...
Are you back together? - Not for ten years.
Does she still not like the father of her child?
Yes... Can...
Can I do something... - Tom, sorry, I wanted to...
But that's not very nice, is it?
Should I come? - Is that okay? You always have to work a lot.
Yes, I actually always have to work. But...
Let me just. I need to sort things out and then I'll get back to you, OK?
I'll call tomorrow or the day after, and we'll sort something out.
Okay, Tom, we'll do that. Great. - Yes?
Mhm. Yes, good. - Yes, of course.
See you tomorrow. - Bye, Tom.
Yes? - Yes.
Yes. You too. - Tom? - I'll call you.
Yes. See you tomorrow. - Bye, Tom. - (Busy tone)
I hate it when she says goodbye, as if it were our last phone call.
Do you like it? - As if we would never speak again.
Are you staying here tonight?
Liv wants tonot that Moritz...
Nice.
(Calm breathing)
(Tom sighs.)
(Sentimental melody)
(The music fades out.)
Good morning. - Morning.
I didn't even know that you were here.
Because I have tradesmen over today. Is that okay? - Yes, of course.
I have to go now.
How was the birth?
Unbelievable.
I'll tell you later, OK?
Absolutely.
I'm going to go take a shower.
We could also...
Yes, we could.
But we don't have to.
Mh.
(Footsteps receding)
(Sentimental melody)
(Tom) Cuckoo.
Cuckoo.
I won't do that. - Then I won't come.
Huh? You have to come to your own baby shower.
It wasn't my idea, it was Moritz's.
(sighs) He wants to introduce the child to friends and family.
Exactly. His child, his family, his friends.
My family and friends are coming too.
But not mine. - You don't have any friends either.
Actually, no family either. - What's going on?
Sorry. - (Baby crying)
As I said, you should have breastfed her. - Yes, Tom!
Then you would be late for rehearsal, sorry!
(Tom) Okay.
Be nice to Bernard. - I always am.
Hey.
(Impressive orchestral music)
(Dramatic strings) - (Fast brass)
(English) From now on it's a completely different genre:
It's "Grand Guignol", "The Walking Dead".
No stiletto, no sharp knife slits the throat.
Here, brains explode, intestines spill out of dismembered bodies.
Think of circular saws. (Bestial sound)
(glowing) It's splatter! Start again.
Three, four.
(Imposing orchestral music)
(Stormy winds) - (Hasty woodwinds and strings)
(The music builds.)
(The music ends.)
(English) The title of the piece,
that you're playing
is "Dying".
Do you understand?
Dying.
It's not called "The Vampire Wrestling".
Bernard, you're exaggerating. Leave me alone. - (English) Do you like
my composition?
(German) It doesn't matter. It does matter at all!
(English) Do you like the piece that you're playing?
(laughs) Just be honest.
Just be... Don't be inhibited. OK?
Come on!
(yelling) Say something!
It sounds good, but it's way too long.
It's called "dying," but it doesn't have to bore people to death.
I think it's pointless. It has no hope.
The hope lies in that we play it.
The hope lies not in the play.
It lies in the fact
that we play it.
In that on a rock,
floating through space,
Great Apes
like you
and I,
join together,
to transfer feelings into vibrating air
and then call it "music".
so that other apes can ponder on it.
That's where the hope lies.
So either you don't understand
what making music is about or...
or my piece is a piece of shit.
I think it's the latter.
You provoked them and they fought back.
Man, the young people don't get your work.
They're the only ones who get anything.
Who doesn't get anything? You and me.
We're the idiots who feel the piece.
Your damn orchestra is falling asleep and you're babbling about "Grand Guignol".
Stop it.
I'm scared, man! But I can't feel that you're scared.
Bernard!
Man! The same shit every week! Nobody can work like that.
I don't want you to work, I want you to die.
Are you crazy?
The notes are written while dying, and must be conducted while dying.
Otherwise it won't work!
Oh, we'll postpone the premiere. - We can't.
It's not finished! - But the sponsors are.
Look: The piece contains everything that I have to give.
I don't have a baby with which I can fool myself about the meaning of life.
Or half a baby. - A quarter, more like an eighth of a baby.
I hope you remember the fine print in the deal.
You promised. - I never agreed to your crazy idea.
Please. Sorry.
We're postponing.
Sorry. - I'm stupid!
You can't promise something like that. It's not even possible legally!
Please.
Thank you.
(The baby whines.)
(Liv) Tom.
Tom.
Hey, Tom. Can you take her for a minute, please?
She's complaining all the time. I have to leave early. - Yes.
Roast coffee. - Sure. Sure.
Do you have her? - Yes.
What's wrong with you, little hobbit?
Little hobbit, what's wrong?
Aren't you tired at all? - (She continues to whine.)
What do you think?
Not so much, huh?
(sings) Bona nox, you're a real ox.
Bona notte, dear Lotte, bonne nuit. - (She becomes quiet.)
Ugh, ugh, good night, we still have a long way to go today.
Good night, good night, it's about time, good night.
Sleep well, healthy and stretch your ass to the moon.
(Buzz of voices) - (Baby whining)
(Spanish guitar music plays.)
(Baby whining continues.)
(Bernard) She's still incredibly beautiful.
(Tom) Who? Liv? Most beautiful woman in the world.
It was cool of me that I didn't hold it against you back then.
That you stole Liv from me.
I didn't. She broke up with you.
And you held it against me.
You smashed my windows. Because you thought she was with me.
She was, by the way.
Really?
Were you already officially a couple?
Well, Liv and I weren't a couple for a long time.
We only became one when she aborted our child.
When she got pregnant, we were young.
Life was difficult.
Each of us was difficult. Everything was difficult.
I was actually in favor of having the child, but...
Liv just didn't love me.
She had an appointment with a doctor that a friend had recommended.
I tried to change her mind, but...
Oh well.
I probably didn't have the strength
or the conviction.
We didn't say a word the whole train ride,
didn't even look at each other, for five hours.
In the waiting room it was clear to me
that this was the end of our relationship.
When the nurse came in and said,
Liv would ask me to come in if I wanted...
Liv and I looked at each other,
took each other's hands.
That was the greatest
and most intense thing I had ever experienced in my life.
It was like giving birth, only in reverse.
That day we became a couple and remained so for seven years.
But we never got pregnant again.
(Whining continues.)
(Liv) Well.
Thanks for coming. - Yes, no problem.
Well? - Hey. - Nice to see you.
Congratulations. - Thank you.
Have a nice party.
Yes.
I don't want to argue, but on our daughter's special day, Tom is there...
I invited him and even insisted on it.
Yes, he'll do what you say... - Hey, Tom belongs here!
He's Jessie's father too! - Can you be a bit quieter...
What do you say to that? - You have to sort that out.
I just wanted to help. - (Cell phone vibrates.)
Elli?
(Jessie cries.) - What?
Is Tom there? - Yes, it's me, Elli.
This is Ellen. - Yes, I know. What's up?
I'm not feeling well. There's something wrong with me.
Ellen, can you speak louder? You're almost incomprehensible.
Tom, I'm not feeling well. - What's wrong? Are you crying?
I don't know... - Have you been drinking?
Yes, I have, but that's not the problem.
Don't drink anything for once, and if you don't feel better, call, OK?
No, I need...
(Jessie's crying continues.)
(Lustful moaning) - (Melancholic indie music plays.)
(Music: "Taking The Easy Way Out" by Elliott Smith)
(She sighs.)
Is everything OK?
Yes. Sorry. I just drifted off.
(laughs) It's all a bit much right now.
I have to go to the home where my father now lives tomorrow.
It's so embarrassing.
My mother is also terminally ill.
And Bernard is threatening to die. - But he won't.
Yes. No, he won't.
But it still wears you down. - (sighs)
Sorry, I don't want to bore you, but... - (sighs)
What do you actually want?
Do you mean in general or us?
No, I don't mean us. I know that, well...
We both know that that's mit is not true love with us.
I mean more that you run around like a frightened chicken.
Or worse: you run around like a frightened chicken,
whose head has been chopped off, but you keep running anyway.
Mhm.
I have to think about that first.
Do that.
Should we watch something else?
Yes, let's watch something else.
I'll get the iPad.
(Melancholic indie music is playing.)
It's all about
taking the easy way out for you, I suppose.
(Gong from the elevator) - (Man) We don't get it.
(babble of voices)
(TV report in the background)
Hello, Dad.
(croaking) Tom.
Tom!
Well? - (blissfully) It's great that you're here.
Are you just coming from Berlin? - Exactly.
Yes?
(quietly) It's so great that you're here. That's great.
(Gerd laughs.)
Should I get a TV? - No, no, no.
Oh, that's a good idea, Gerdi.
Hm? From Tom. Then you can watch football again.
Yes, I'll do that.
Yes? I'll have it sent to you. From Amazon, no problem at all.
Please tell him to dress warmer when he goes out.
He listens to you more than to me.
Dad, put on warmer clothes when you go out, OK?
It's freezing cold outside. - Yes.
He always loses everything. Wallet and stuff.
The neighbors bring it to me. So, I don't give him anything anymore.
He has pocket money in the home. - They don't give me any money here.
Yes, he always wants to collect money. - And I have to pay so much.
Yes, from the bank, but he doesn't have a card anymore.
Our branch isn't even in Hanstedt.
And then he always goes there anyway.
Then he fell last week and sat on the stairs for hours.
(quietly) The neighbors told me that too.
(harshly) Gerd! - Dad, what's wrong?
Are you looking for something? - I have to pay the car insurance.
But they won't give me any money here. - Gerd. Sit down.
Talk to Tom. He's here especially. - I have to...
Dad, without a car you don't need insurance.
The bills are in here.
I wrote to them because they won't give me any money.
Oh, he always says that, but he gets pocket money,
and it's always all gone, so they have to give it to him.
There's no letter in there, Dad.
You don't have to worry about anything. I'll take care of everything.
You don't have to pay anything, I'll pay. - He doesn't listen.
He then becomes aggressive towards me, and towards the residents too.
That's why he's on this ward,
where everyone is already completely out of it.
Then he runs out, half naked, they can't do anything.
They can't tie him down here.
And if that doesn't stop, he'll have to go to a secure institution.
That's what the director said. That'll be an insane asylum.
He doesn't have to, Mom.
Well, if you say so. Maybe they just want to get rid of him.
That could be. I think she wants more money.
You have to pay for everything. She wants much morethe.
The others pay, I think, more.
The manager is greedy. That's what everyone around here says.
Yes, but I pay what everyone else pays.
Those are official rates, I think.
But she is greedy. You can tell. That's what everyone says.
Tom.
It's nice that you're back.
Yesterday Ellen was here and visited me.
Ellen hasn't been here for a long time.
Yes? Was it nice?
(barely audible) Yes, it was very nice, yes.
(cynical) Ellen hasn't been there for months.
You... you were there last week too.
(hesitating) With your girlfriend.
No, Dad, I wasn't there. - Yes, I was.
I don't have a girlfriend either, well, not really,
but I have a baby.
Aha. - Yes. I have a little bit of a baby.
Do you want to see? - Yes.
(Gerd laughs heartily.)
(laughs) Yes.
It's great
that you're doing so well, Tom.
Yes. I'm fine...
I'm fine, yes.
And you?
Are you OK here?
Good, yes. - (Lissy) Gerd. Gerd!
Gerdi. Gerd! Tom already has his own international orchestra.
No, that's not my orchestra, that's a youth orchestra.
I conduct that every now and then.
(gulps) For a concert.
Financed by a foundation for peace.
Oh, I see.
But I... I have to get going soon.
Dad. I...
I'll be back soon.
One more thing.
It'll be nice
when you come next time.
I'll be happy when you come back.
I'm really looking forward to that.
Yes, I'm coming... I'll be back soon.
I'll do that.
I... I'll get you out.
Then...
Then you can bring Lissy next time.
Yes, but...
But mom is here now too. You know that.
Well, she's standing there.
Right next to you.
Now go back, Gerdi. It's fine. Yes? Bye.
I'll be back next week. It can't go well, you know.
Bye, Gerdi.
He was so happy to see you. Yes.
I'm also looking forward to you coming back.
It's so short every time.
But you have your performance soon?
Mhm. - That's important too.
It's a shame that it's not your orchestra.
(Swelling music)
(English) No. I'm sorry, but it's too loud.
Pianissimo. At most.
(Music gently swelling)
(Graceful choir singing) But I still stay...
Still too loud. If you can't understand the choir, you're too loud.
Let's start again.
The tempo of the score is 82.
I want to go a lot slower.
So again.
(Gently swelling music)
Don't rush.
Stay with me.
Nevertheless, I will stay
always with you,
because you hold me
by your right hand.
(Poignant music)
Good. Thank you. - (The music fades away.)
At this moment
something is happening.
Something like
Peace,
Salvation,
a new world.
Transcendence.
(German) The only question is:
Is this still our world?
Uh...
(English) Again.
And I would like it to be even slower.
(Music gently swelling)
Nevertheless, I remain
always by you,
because you hold me
by your right hand.
(Poignant music)
You guide me according to your counsel.
You guide,
You guide me according to your counsel.
You guide me,
You guide... - Don't rush, stay with me.
...me.
You guide me,
take me, take me finally with honor...
Take me, take me finally with honor.
(Delicate harp)
(The music gently fades away.)
(Deep, fading brass)
(Touching deep cello solo)
(The cello fades away.)
(Silence)
(Touching cello solo)
(Fine gong)
If only I had you
...
(Touching cello solo)
(Fine gong)
...so I don't ask anything...
(Touching cello solo)
(The cello fades out.)
(Fine gong)
...about heaven and earth.
(Subdued rustling)
(Gentle tapping of the bows on the music stands)
Tom! That was great. - No, please no buts now.
There are only 23 minutes left.
I'll check the contract, but there could be trouble with the sponsors.
And Bernard wants to cut the choir. - I'll talk to him.
(Bernard) Don't lie to me!
Bernard, are you crazy? - She's doing it on purpose!
The sound at the end has to dissolve, it's just getting quieter.
She's sabotaging my piece! - If you hit her...
Tom, the piece isn't finished yet.
The choir has to go. This is total kitsch.
It's not your fault. The piece isn't finished yet.
We're postponing.
(His footsteps fade away.)
Is everything OK? - Don't be so strict with him.
I shouldn't be so strict? - He's not well.
He's not well. - No need to hit you!
It's not that bad.
Not so bad? It's bad that you don't think it's bad.
Korean subservience? - Tom.
He, he, he. - Yeah. Man, it really annoys me.
You know what I think is bad?
Sometimes you look at me like that in rehearsals.
You know? - No.
How do I look at you?
(English) With a look that says: She's not as good as she thinks.
Worse than a slap in the face. - Nonsense!
You're projecting your self-doubtin my funny face.
It's not my fault.
(Gasping breath)
He really doesn't sound well. Probably pneumonia.
Why not call the doctor? - He's not coming anyway.
Let's see how he is tomorrow. Good night, Mr. Lunies.
Good night! If you need anything, press the emergency number, OK?
(lovingly) Good night.
No one from the family again! - His wife was here.
That's the neighbor! - Yes? - Yes.
But his wife was here once too. - Are you sure? - Yes.
(The door closes.) (Footsteps receding)
(Heavy breathing)
(Breaked breath)
(Distant babble of voices)
(Heavy breathing)
(Rasping breath)
(The babble of voices ends.)
(Gerd's breathing becomes calm.)
(Silence)
(Gerd groans in panic.)
(Gerd gasps.)
(Gerd gasps for air.)
(Gerd whimpers.)
(Gerd gasps for air.)
(Gerd exhales.)
(silence)
(birds chirping)
Yes, let's get started.
And your children?
They don't seem to be coming.
(bird calls)
We have come together here
to pay our last respects to Gerd Lunies.
A poet once said:
"There is a realm of the living and the dead.
What connects them is love."
(Cell phone rings) - Ah, sorry. Oh.
Oh, my son. I have to answer.
Yes?
Mom? - Yes.
Sorry, I had no reception. - Where are you?
On the country road. The car ran out of power.
The power? I don't understand. What?
Are you from Berlin... - Yes. I am...
I took the train to Hamburg and rented a car-sharing car.
What? - Car sharing.
A rental car. For a short time. - For a short time? Aha.
Now halfway there the power has gone out. The display has...
Why don't you fill up, Tom? - No, that... No, because the...
He doesn't fill up with petrol, Mom. An electric car.
There are petrol stations everywhere.
Um... I underestimated that there are no charging stations in the country.
...
Mhm.
It doesn't matter.
I'm sorry. But you are... So...
You're in the cemetery, right?
In the Peace Forest, yes.
What? - Yes, in the Ruheforst, no cemetery.
In the Ruheforst? - Yes. Dad wanted it that way.
Here in the forest, you are buried.
There is no grave or tombstone. It's just the forest.
Yes? No name.
And is Ellen there?
No. I haven't heard from her.
What? - Ellen isn't here. I haven't heard from her.
What do we do? Should we... - Hey, wait a minute, now...
The tow truck service is on the other line. I'll answer it, OK?
I'll call you again.
Yes?
(Busy tone)
You can put a nameplate on a tree or stone.
Yes? - It was in the leaflet that I gave you.
Oh yes. Yes.
Can we... Oh, were you finished? Sorry.
Would you like to say a few more words?
You are... (clears throat)
You were...
You were one of the good guys. Thank you for that.
(stammering) Please, can we now? - Mhm.
(Clatter in the kitchen)
(The doorbell rings.) - Should I open it?
Yes.
(Clearing throat) Hello. - Yes?
Susanne? - Yes, exactly.
I'm Tom.
Hello, Mom. - Hello, Tom.
I'm going. - Yes. - Check back later, OK?
I'm really sorry, Mom. - Yes, yes.
(Apartment door is closed.)
And Ellen? - Yes, she wanted to come.
But she isn't. - Well, not yet.
You're late too.
(Quiet birdsong)
Should I still try to reach her?
No, no, well... No. She's old enough
to know what she's doing.
Maybe she had an accident.
Oh.
I'm so happy that you came.
Yes? - I'm always happy when you come.
Although you don't look so good today, do you?
Why?
Well, you looked better recently.
Yes? - Yes.
You said I had gained weight, that it didn't suit me.
Oh, that's not true.
Yes, yes. - No.
Not true. - It doesn't matter.
Yes.
(Tom breathes heavily.)
I have to tell you something.
The fact is, I'm going to die soon too.
I have cancer. Vaginal cancer.
They're going to cut off my labia,
and my left toe is practically rotten.
All from the diabetes. But the worst part:
The kidneys are failing. I don't want to do dialysis.
It's just not worth it anymore. My life isn't so good that
it has to be prolonged with torture.
Mhm.
I just wanted you to know that.
There's a savings book
in the coat in the closet in the bedroom in the inside pocket.
With around 5,000 euros for the funeral. - (He snorts.)
And whatever else comes up. - (Clears throat)
The rest is for you.
I...
I don't know what to say now.
Can't we...
I mean, Dad...
I should actually... But...
I'm so annoyed with you again.
Trouble? Why is that?
Because I'm dying?
No, because I actually came...
Can't we talk about Dad?
I mean...
(stammering) Isn't it actually his day today?
Yes, but Dad is already dead.
I wonder what kind of conversation this is going to be.
And whether it's even worth it for me.
I'm just happy when we talk.
Yes? Are you happy? -Yes. - Are you looking forward to the conversation?
Maybe we don't have much chance to talk anymore.
To be honest, it doesn't matter what about.
Yes? - Yes.
I have a question. - Mhm.
Uh... Something that
keeps going through my head.
When I...
When I was very little,
eight or so,
we had lunch here.
You, Ellen and I.
And I said something
that made you terribly angry.
You made me apologize.
I said: "I don't know what for."
And you forced me to sit on a chair next to you all day
on a chair next to you.
Ellen hid in her room in fear
and no matter where you went in the apartment,
I had to sit on the chair with you and next to you.
All day, even during your afternoon nap.
I sat next to you,
for hours, not daring to move.
You kept asking me to apologize.
And I kept asking: "For what?" You didn't answer.
"I don't know what I said wrong."
But you didn't believe me.
In the evening, Dad came home and rescued me.
Then we never talked about it again.
Why are you telling me this now?
Because I'd like to know what I should apologize for.
But I don't remember. It was so long ago. - So what?
I can't remember. - I remember too.
Yes, because that was important to you. And not to me.
God, what do I know? Maybe a bad day.
It was exhausting with you.
What was important to you? So...
What was the most important moment?
Between you and me.
I can't tell you.
Why?
A nice moment?
The most beautiful moment for me was
when it turned out that you...
That you are healthy and normal.
That you are not damaged.
When? After the birth?
No, later. But please, I don't want to talk about it.
No, okay, yes. We don't have to talk about it.
I'm just so glad that you're so healthy and so strong.
Yes.
You were a "crybaby".
That's what they said back then, I don't know if they still call it that today.
You were always crying.
Your father and I, we had no money.
When you suddenly came... You were an accident, not a planned child.
I don't know if you know that.
Yes, you told me often enough.
Yes, well, we then moved into his parents' small apartment.
There was a tiny little room, that was for the three of us.
Your father was away for weeks as a salesman for all sorts of things,
for zippers and photocopiers.
And I was there with you in this tiny room,
that I didn't dare leave,
because there was your mother-in-law, who I didn't get along with.
You have ajust kept screaming, and then I...
What? - (stammering) Fell down...
What? - ...did you... - Fell down?
Maybe even threw yourself. I...
Excuse me? What's wrong? - On the floor. Or on the wall.
You... You let me fall down?
No, you fell down. You fell down.
And then I ran out of the apartment...
out of the room, out of the apartment too.
Wait, did I fall down or did you throw me?
Fell down.
Then I ran out of the apartment
and straight into the shopping mall.
So I went through the shops, I wanted to buy something,
but I had no money, so I stole a toy from you at Hertie,
a truck, a small yellow one.
Yes, I remember. With blue tires.
Yes, and when I came back to the apartment, then...
Yes, my mother-in-law had you in her arms.
You were very calm. She had found you there and picked you up.
She never said anything. Not even to your father.
But she never forgave me.
And I've been waiting all these years to see if anyone would notice anything.
Whether you might
be paralyzed at some point or have brain damage,
maybe you'll never speak
or whether you might,
yes, mentally handicapped.
But you became completely normal.
But you didn't like me. Never.
You always wanted to be with your father.
But I accepted that,
because after all, I didn't like you either.
I understood that on that day.
(sighing) On that... day, that I don't love you at all.
Because you wouldn't do something like that.
If you love someone, you don't do something like that.
Things like that don't happen if you love someone.
No matter how annoyed or...
(stammering) you are...
And that's why I wasn't disappointed at all
that you didn't like me.
I was only disappointed when Ellen didn't like me anymore either.
Because I loved Ellen, I know that for sure.
Ellen was so small and, oh, anxious and shy.
When she was small.
And then at some point,
yes, she left and became unhappy.
But that's not my fault. Well, not that, no.
You're so different from me. - No.
No, no, that... That's not me. - Yes, you are...
No, quite the opposite. I'm a lot like you.
No, Tom. - Yes.
Just as cold.
No, you're not, Tom, you...
Please don't say anything clever, it won't work anyway. - Mh.
Yes.
Maybe we should have played the piano instead, like we used to.
Yes, that's right. I got the music from you too.
Yes, we both have perfect pitch.
(laughing) No, we don't. - (croaking sound)
I'm hoarse today, sorry.
(Sound)
That's not an A. - An A, exactly. - No.
Come on, stop it now.
Hmm.
Well. We shouldn't have talked so much.
Everyone talks too much. - Yes, it's good that we talk.
Yes? Really? - Yes.
Because I actually have the feeling that I will understand at some point
why we are the way we are.
Why we...
(gulps) Why we are such terrible people.
Why, for example,
I don't care at all that you're sick, that you...
that you're going to die soon.
(sighs) I just don't care at all.
It's so terrible that I don't feel anything,
that there's such a, yes,
emptiness inside me when it comes to you.
Now I realize that I don't have to feel bad about it.
That I don't have to feel bad, that it was actually
always like that,
talking to you, being near you, visiting you,
that it almost takes my breath away,
yes, if I just white,
I have to call you back, because you were on voicemail.
But you never visited Dad either.
Yeah, man! Because then I always had to talk to you too.
I just can't stand having contact with you.
But yes, yes, that...
(gulps) I will never forgive myself for not being
with Dad when he died.
Never.
Yes, maybe that should make me sad now.
But I lost all my sadness
when you were young.
And yes, that's right: you don't have to feel guilty at all.
I just wanted you to know what...
how I'm doing
and where the savings book is.
Would you like anything else? - No. - No?
Then I'll clear it up.
(A cell phone rings.)
(Several people are talking in a foreign language.)
(Ringing stops.) - (The conversation continues.)
(Soft music is playing.) - (Dishes clatter.)
(The conversation ends.)
What time is it?
(inaudible)
I've had a busy day, have to go, but thanks for breakfast.
(inaudible)
Good in the evening, shit in the morning, good again in the evening.
Ugh. - (Slimy sound)
(Key tones and dial tone)
(English) Yes, excuse me. Where am I?
Where? In Latvia?
(quietly) Shit.
No, it doesn't matter. Where is the...
I was here with a man, right?
It doesn't matter.
(Rumble) - (Ellen groans.)
(German) Thanks, asshole.
(Announcement gong)
Hi, Ellen, this is your brother. Dad isn't feeling well.
I'd be grateful if you called mom.
I've become a father of sorts. I gave birth to a child.
Not mine, but, yes, I...
(babble of voices)
Rents have increased by 52 percent over the years.
In the EU only 36.
The mortgage financier is right.
Since the sanctions againstthe Russians
the Latvians are making it difficult for them to buy property.
(turbine noise)
(cell phone ringing)
(ringing stops.)
(English) Excuse me, madam. Once again: please put your cell phone away.
And please fasten your seatbelt. Thank you.
(Click)
(Buzzer)
(Woman) Then I would like your health insurance card.
Do you think he'll stay or he'll go? - He's still on probation. He's staying.
Yes, the patients love him. - No wonder. - With that smile.
Does he have an apartment here? - He's probably always in Munich at the weekend.
Then why this practice? - Must be dirty.
Does he have a family? - Married, has three severely disabled children.
At the weekend he visits his mother in prison.
She massacred his siblings.
A Swedish cult thing.
She didn't catch him, he escaped over the roof.
Hence the scar that he scratches when he thinks.
So keep your hands off him, he's not for you.
Dr. Kienzle says you can help. Laura had to go home: gastrointestinal problems.
Yes, Laura has problems.
I'm coming.
Sorry, I'm off track, my father is sick.
Actually, he's dying.
Bring Mr. Breitkreuz in, I'll be right there.
Sure, sir. I'll do it, sir. Breitkreuz, sir.
Mr. Breitkreuz, you can come in now.
Morning, boss.
Is it a good morning, Ellen?
(Buzzing) - Think of something nice. Beach, palm trees, blue sea.
It wasn't my mother.
The thing with the scar, I mean. It was an ex-girlfriend.
She threw a bottle. - Was there a good reason?
I was 16. There's always a good reason for it. Right?
(Buzzing ends.) - Now rinse it out.
What kind of bottle? - Excuse me?
What kind of bottle that was.
So, we have to do it one more time.
Gritted our teeth. It was a joke. And off we go.
(buzzing) - Moskovskaya, Russian direct import, was empty.
And? Bad?
The thing with your father. - Yes, he has Parkinson's, so...
He won't die from it directly, but there are side effects.
If there's anything I can do, let me know.
Yes, go for a drink with me this evening.
I have to go there tomorrow morning, I promised.
The health insurance auditor is coming, I'll help if no one else is there.
My mother always thought friendship is overrated.
I don't throw empty vodka bottles either.
If I get a bottle of tequila in my hand, then...
Good.
(Rock music is playing quietly.)
But just one, OK?
One. I'll take care of you.
One lemon. And olive. Cheers, you two. - Thank you very much.
(sighs) I love the first sip.
When the gin runs down your throat like liquid ice.
Yes.
(Soft, melancholic rock music) I'm planting myself in the garden.
(sings along) Believe me
between the potatoes and parsley.
...
Believe me. - I don't know that.
Bill Fay, "Garden Song", from 1970.
It was completely lost back then.
30 years later someone dug it up.
Bill now works as a harvest worker, gardener,
cleaner, in the fish department of a supermarket.
You have a beautiful voice. - (snorts)
No, really, really.
Have you ever thought about making music?
My brother is a conductor.
Conductor? Wow.
(giggles) Exactly:
Wow.
Everyone always thought that was "wow".
So I thought I'd do the least wow-like thing,
something that everyone hates. 1207 01 :40:18,500 --> 01:40:19,375 Dentist.
Exactly. But without "doctor".
(Ellen giggles.)
Of course you have a dark secret.
Everyone in Dr. Kienzle's Practice of Horror has one.
(Sensual pop music)
What is yours? - Where did you meet?
AA? - No. AA? No, I don't do that, no!
(laughs) Absolutely not Fall!
What is your dark secret? - (clinking)
Ouch, my tooth! - What is it now? ? Tooth?
I hit the counter with my tooth. (groans) - So what?
Oh, he has to go now. He... - What, now?
I need a capable assistant and out with her! - No problem. Rolf!
We need your kitchen for a moment.
(He groans.)
(quietly) Shit. - (Wild rock music)
(Dentist) Okay.
I said a capable assistant. a pair of pliers, but not something like that!
(He laughs.)
Rolf. Rolf! - (He coughs.) 1228 01 :41:44,666 --> 01:41:47,166 Pliers! - Toolbox on the shelf.
(Bottles clink.)
(Wild electric guitar solo)
(groans) It has to come out anyway. - (Both giggle.)
First use a knife to separate the gum from the tooth.
You know! You can do it. - (She giggles.)
(He groans and gags.)
(indistinct) Other side...
(Bottles rattle.) - (Wild rock music)
(groans) Stop, stop, stop. 1238 01:42 :26,875 --> 01:42:31,000 Take the pliers now. (laughing) Break that thing out.
(She laughs.) - (He groans and gags.)
( He moans loudly.)
Awesome!
(Wild rock music)
(Silence)
( He sighs.)
(gently) Good morning.
(gently) Aren't your parents waiting?
I'll skip it.
Don't you like being with them?
Who likes to go to their parents?
Well, I like my parents.
My mother, at least.1252
That doesn't just speak for you.
Be careful. Nothing against my mother.
(Both laugh.)
Coffee! Do you have coffee?
Yes.
(sighs)
That's fine.
I want mwith you dancing.
I'm going for a root canal. The anesthesia may be too weak.
Let me know if you want me to add more, OK?
(whispering) Ellen. Mask! Ellen!
(buzzing)
(whispering) Ellen.
(Scream)
(Dr. Kienzle) Shit. Get out of here! And send Verena in.
(Whining) - Sorry. I'm so sorry.
I still need an injection. - Let's do it.
...
Oh, oh, oh!
Oh, oh, oh, oh!
Moving like salty noses across the deck and spreading our truth,
until our ashes cover our heads and snow covers everyone else beneath.
Like insects, we sacrifice ourselves to the truth,
which we think we finally have power over.
Believe firmly in the things we know,
and ignore what it means to believe.
We believe in the truth,
Believe firmly in the things we know,
And ignore what it means to believe.
We believe in the truth,
Believe firmly in the things we know,
1293 01:47:12 1287
My obituary in the final moment will be:
Why did I give up being a child?
These are the things that we love.
These are the things that we hate.
...
(Silence)
(Buzz of voices and traffic noise from outside)
What's going on?
I'm married.
I have two children.
Twelve and fourteen.
In Munich.
In the beautiful Poing. - Where?
Poing.
No, you don't have any children in Poing.
Yes.
I have two children in Poing.
Do we need to talk about it now?
No.
I thought that... - Come to bed and sleep.
(sings in French) Je n'ai pas la médecine pour soigner cet état.
I don't like it when you sing, but I say it like that.
I love it when you sing.
And are you a happy family?
Would I be here then?
Hmm?
(Ellen groans.)
Ouch.
(She screams.)
Oh.
(groaning)
(snoring)
Then I'll enter you. - Thank you.
I'll give you the certificate.
Oh. Do you have an appointment?
(vehement) Mh!
Okay, one moment please.
So.
What have you done?
(indistinct) I can't open my mouth.
(confused) Okay.
Yes, I see that too.
Can you fix it?
Then I'll have to look down your throat.
So.
Open your mouth. - Will it hurt?
Yes, it will hurt a little. Open your mouth.
(whimpering)
(sound of pain)
It'll be over soon.
Okay.
Strange. I've never had anything like that before.
But it's nice, isn't it?
Be something special for once. - Asshole.
(vibrate)
Yes?
Is that you? Bastian?
You left me alone this morning.
That wasn't nice.
I woke up alone in your apartment.
Are you mad because... - Because you're married?
No, I'm not, I...
I just had to go to the doctor really quickly.
Why?
Oh, I had a rash all over my face, totally swollen.
I looked like the Elephant Man.
But it's much better now.
I thought that you had left me.
Really left me. - Can we talk about something else?
(groans) Yeah, sure.
And what about?
Something funny.
Your penis.
You think my penis is funny?
I think your penis is very beautiful.
Luckily.
Actually, I think every penis is beautiful.
Okay.
I just like penises. Bad?
No. - I like looking at penises. I always have.
You know, there's a book.
A penis book, it's called "The Big Penis Book".
Oh, great. - I'll give it to you.
That would be very nice of you.
Anything that makes you happy, my love.
Didn't people dress up a bit for the doctor in the old days?
She bit on something hard and broke the crown.
Bit on something hard, I see.
Shit, now she's falling asleep too.
Why are you in such a bad mood?
Here too and off to the bar.
That's why I'm in a bad mood.
I realized that things were serious between you... That things were serious between us.
That puts you in a bad mood?
The bar puts me in a bad mood.
I would like to go without drinking for a day,
but go with you to the cinema or the theater.
To the theater? Oh God.
Okay, then not to the theater...
Shit! One evening not drinking anything, just being together.
I feel guilty just thinking about it. Perverse.
You don't have to.
But I will. - Then we'll just spend the evening and not drink anything.
Really? - Sure, it's no problem.
Then explain to me what it means that things are getting serious. Okay?
Yes. - (saliva sucker)
Where can I find Mr. Lunies? - Down the hall, right, room 110.
(Quiet voices from next door)
Dad?
(Gerd swallows.)
Well?
Did I wake you up?
Should I open the window? A bit of fresh air.
(She gasps quietly.)
(Gerd croaks quietly.)
(The door closes.)
(She clears her throatrt.)
(She sighs quietly.)
Well?
Was it good? - Yes.
See? I told you.
Yes, you said. What about the promised surprise?
Okay, let's go there.
(Engine humming)
(Relaxed R 'n' B is playing.)
That's unbelievable. You here?
Hi.
(clearing throat) Sebastian. Tom. My brother.
Liv. - Hi. Hello.
Nice to meet you. Sebastian. - Ellen.
Tom.
You're Tom?
Funny that we meet you here.
Actually, we're in Berlin because of you. - Because of me?
Yes. I gave Ellen two tickets.
For the concert that you're conducting tomorrow.
She must have been happy. Uh, yes.
Of course a long weekend in Berlin.
Yes, that's fine.
Where is your child, half child?
(hesitantly) That, uh, is with the other father.
How do you know? - Mom.
Do you want to eat something too? So...
Yes, I'd love to, why not. Or?
And how old is the child?
One year or... - Yes. - One year.
This is the best phase.
Enjoy it. It goes by so quickly. In no time she'll be at the age
where, if you turn around, she'll try to kill herself.
Okay, the spritzer?
It's not just a spritzer. A symbol of a new life.
Sebastian wants to leave his family
and have a "serious relationship" with me.
He doesn't mean it in an unromantic way. He talks like that when he's sober.
That's the catch-22 of it: He wants the relationship sober.
(English) So: absolutely no drinks. To that: cheers!
(She sighs.)
It's really nice that you're coming tomorrow. It's an important day for me.
You didn't make it to Dad's funeral.
I need something to drink. I mean alcohol.
What? Why?
Because that was extremely exhausting, right?
What? Your brother?
All that hipster crap, everyone acting as if life was a... pleasure.
You can also choose your unhappiness.
I don't decide anything, I just don't know what... - What?
You don't have to know everything! You can also... - What?
Just sing.
Sing? - Yes, why not? Sing for me.
I was just thinking about your brother.
That music makes you happy. And your voice is liquid gold.
(trembling) Give me a drink, then...
Just one.
(He takes a deep breath.)
(She breathes shakily.)
Mom! - (whispering) Well, how does it taste?
Oh, here comes another spoonful. - (Jessie complains.)
Here comes another spoonful. Ha!
And big bite. Big bite! - (The doorbell rings.)
Oh.
Wait a minute.
Hey, come in.
We're still eating, then you can have them.
Spelt porridge is her thing right now. - I know. Hey!
(She cries.) - I have to go too.
Already? We had half an hour of transition timeagreed.
So that Jessie doesn't think
that every new supervisor is a farewell.
(sighing) OK.
(Moritz) Come on, let me.
Hey, take something from me. Yes!
Fine!
Look, you have to do it slowly, man.
So. One last one for Tom, OK?
Why is she suddenly so hungry? - Because you're doing it too fast.
Come on, another spoonful.
Ah, big bite!
Yes! - (Both laugh.)
And another spoonful. - Let me... - Big bite!
Don't fill the spoon so full. What nonsense. - (Cell phone vibrates.)
Yes, that's good.
I really have to go. The premiere is tomorrow. - Bye.
(Buzz of voices)
(Ellen sings in English, accompanied by guitar music.)
In my room where I'm still killing you.
...
(The other guests join in.)
Isn't that good?
In this room.
(Everyone sings enthusiastically.)
In this room where I'm still killing you.
...
(Cheers, applause and whistles)
(Ellen laughs.)
(He sighs happily.)
(They giggle.)
Sorry, I couldn't go any faster.
Where is he? - Upstairs. He can't come down and I'm not allowed up.
Did he hit you again? No.
Yes?
No!
(knocks) Partner?
I'm coming in now, OK?
(Tom sighs.)
We have to call it off.
I just can't meet him.
I don't know what's wrong with you. We had great rehearsals.
Who are you not hitting?
(whistles quietly)
The fine line. - (amused) Mh.
Nobody hits him, we know that. - But you have to hit him.
Otherwise all that's left is kitsch.
Either kitsch for the masses or kitsch for the smart alecks.
I don't know which is worse. - Kitsch, what does that even mean?
Even just a word. - (sighs) Kitsch is when the feeling
doesn't reach reality.
Do you know that I listen to your piece every minute?
Always.
All the time.
Me too.
Maybe I'm just conducting it badly, maybe that's it.
Well, you're conducting it badly.
But it's a piece of shit.
Shitty conductor, shitty composer.
Shitty audience. - Shitty musicians. - Shitty feature section.
(They laugh.) - ​​That's fine.
I'm sorry.
What are you sorry about?
Everything.
That's a lot.
I know.
(He lets out a breath.)
(quietly) I can't.
I can's not.
I'll get us some wine, then we'll see.
(Bernard sniffles.)
(Bernard cries.)
(Bernard sobs.)
(Tom) It'll be fine tomorrow. Trust me.
(steps)
What fine line is he talking about?
As an artist, you have to simplify the stuff
that you want to get rid of, without distorting the stuff.
Or you're completely authentic, nobody understands you
and you end up alone in the nuthouse, there's a fine line between the two.
His words, not mine.
He likes pathos.
Right? It's about: How far do I have to pander to the audience,
so that they can follow me, but... - I get it.
The fine line.
(The orchestra tunes up.)
(The instruments fade away.)
(Applause)
(The applause dies down.)
(She coughs once.)
(Soft swelling violins)
(Wavy melody with an abrupt end)
(Ellen coughs.)
(Soft swelling violins)
(Wavy melody with an abrupt end)
(Ellen coughs.)
(Ellen breathes heavily.)
(Ellen coughs.) - (Wavy melody)
(Echoing cough continues.)
(quietly) What? - How? Can't you just...
Something? - Don't cough.
(There is a lot of unrest.)
(The music continues to grow.)
(Ellen takes a deep breath and coughs wheezingly.)
Maybe you can calm down outside. - Quiet, please!
Just wanted to help. - Don't let us bother you!
(Choking cough) - (Peaceful music)
What's wrong, baby? - (Ellen gasps for air.)
I feel sick. I think I'm going to puke.
Maybe we should go.
(screams) That's disgusting!
(screams) You're disgusting!
(gagging) - (babble of voices)
(lady) Please go away. Please!
There's a doctor outside. - Don't touch my wife!
No violence, please. - (Ellen chokes.)
Is it over already? I don't listen to music anymore.
I think it's over for us. - Okay. I'm not feeling well.
Do you need a doctor? - No, it's fine, it's not that bad.
(Ellen gasps.) - (people) Hey!
(growling) Hey! Nobody touch my wife!
Hey! - (Bernard) The play has already started! You asshole!
(Man) Stop it! - (murmuring)
Get out of here! - Bernard, stop!
(Uproar) - Stay, it's about to start again.
Have you ever watched anyone die? Stay seated.
(friendly) Please stay seated.
It's about to start again.
Come on, start again, please.
(yelling) Let's start again! Tom!
Stay seated!
(friendly) It's fine. Sit down. (sighs)
Just sit and listen.
Play!
(pleading) Please!
(The door opens.)
Shall we begin? - Yes.
We're still waiting.
As you wish. Weare ready. - (Liv) Mhm.
(Liv clears her throat.)
I'm not your enemy, Liv. Quite the opposite.
This was your idea here.
Mhm. - (The doorbell rings.)
(Liv clears her throat.)
(gasps) Sorry, I'm sorry.
It's a really important rehearsal, right?
No, it was a catastrophic premiere, if you're interested.
No, Tom, not at all. Tom, Moritz! Please stop that, OK?
Have a seat. My colleague will be here shortly.
Moritz, are you applying for joint custody against my will...
I have a legal right... - Yes, but then there will be war.
Okay, that might sound harsh, but we are here
to express uncomfortable thoughts.
Why don't you want us to
talk together about our child's future? Why?
I'm not an idiot who you can't talk to. - Yes.
(Tom laughs quietly.)
No, no. Okay, of course you're not an idiot.
But you're confused.
We had already been a couple for three months!
Yes, in your imagination.
In mine we had sex once or twice.
It wasn't bad, I admit that.
Except for the annoying do-gooder chatter. - You never used contraception!
Because after the thyroid surgery they said I couldn't get pregnant!
Only with hormone therapy!
Then it happened after all, I was desperate and...
alone.
But you weren't alone. - I said so too. - Hey!
(Liv, contemptuously) Sure.
(sighs) When Liv was pregnant,
she called me to say that she didn't want the man.
Oh, come on! - That she can't raise a child alone.
And will probably have to have an abortion.
I said it was out of the question, because I knew
that she wanted a child and was very sad
about what the doctors said after her thyroid surgery.
And, yes, she said: "I can't do this alone."
That's how I became Jessie's father. - Man! You're not her father!
More than you! - Well.
You know what? If you want a child, just have one yourself.
I didn't want one! - Make one yourself!
Tom! That's not quite right either. (babble of voices)
You are no more Jessie's father than Moritz.
No?
Moritz is the biological father, and he always will be.
(snorts) That means so much, because he donated the sperm?
There is a connection between the child and the biological parents.
Yes, I believe that. Whether we want it or not.
Is it a bit tight? - (Patient) Mhm. - Aha.
Anesthesia after all? - (whimpering)
Will you tell me what's wrong? - Nothing's wrong.
Don't talk to me like that. I hate it when people make me look stupid.
Please open it again. - So, what's wrong?
(quietly) Are you crazy? Not now!
Three more patients and already 20 minutes late!
(The patient gags.) - (quietly) Pull yourself together.
What else? Is that a threat?
What consequences...
Meia woman is pregnant. - (gagging)
(gagging and whimpering)
I can't leave her now.
You think it's from you? - (gagging)
Yes, of course it's from me.
Please open up.
(She gasps.)
14.90.
(Dial tone)
(Bastian via mailbox) I can't be reached right now...
(Salesperson) Ciao.
(Dial tone)
(Bastian) Ellen? It's great that you called.
I just want to talk one more time, don't hang up. - Of course not.
This wasn't my idea, was it? That you leave your wife.
That we become something serious and so on.
None of this was my idea. I never asked for this.
I just wanted to make that clear. - Yes, you're right.
And I'm not doing that now. - Good.
Yes, good.
Except maybe one last drink.
Ellen, that would be nice. - One. - But I'm not in Ham...
You are... - I have to... - With your family...
I'm always thinking of you. - One, Sebastian, then...
Yes?
...
(Bastian) Our relationship is like your voice.
It only works with alcohol. - So what? I can live with that.
I like alcohol.
I like the whole lifestyle.
I am the opposite of everything
Do you understand?
Of everything that...
is right and important
is the opposite.
And even of the opposite I am still the opposite.
I am and I am not.
(laughing) Antimatter.
(quietly) Come, Sebastian, dance with me.
It's so beautiful right now. But only with you.
Only with you.
(Squeaking)
(Driver) Is everything OK?
Are you hurt?
(angry) Not like that.
Not like that!
(Melancholy piano music)
(Music: "Jesus, Etc." by Bill Fay)
Jesus, don't cry.
(Silent scenes)
You can rely on me, honey.
...
(Melancholic piano music)
(The music ends.)
(Swedish film)
(A cell phone vibrates.)
Hey, partner. Merry Christmas.
Merry Christmas, Tom. Where are you? What are you doing?
At home with a bottle of wine.
"Fanny and Alexander" on the DVD player?
The 4-hour TV version, as always.
And Ronja?
We don't meet privately anymore. - Have you split up?
We can't split up. - Because you were never together. Yes, yes.
And you? - (sighs sadly)
I have to ask you a favor. - What is that?
Unfortunately, you have to come to me. - Now? - You know the ending.
The family happy under the tree, the evil priest dead.
Okay, I'm coming.
(Meaningful music: "String Quintet in C major D 956" by Schubert)
(The door opens.)
Hey.
(English) Merry Christmas.
(quietly) Thank you.
What's up? What can I do?
You obviously managed the steak on your own.
Is it okay if I
get straight to the point?
Yes, of course.
I'm going to end my life tonight.
Not a spontaneous impulse. We've already talked about it several times.
I don't want to bring it all up again.
I have a problem that you need to help me with.
And that's Wed-Thurs.
Come on, sit down first.
(snorts amusedly) Sure.
So, me and Mi-Do have been having an affair for a few weeks.
What are we talking about? - Listen. - No, listen to yourself.
Mi-Do is in love. - I'm coming on Christmas Eve...
She's in Frankfurt. - Hello, can you calm down?
Listen. I have the feeling... - I'm going again. - Listen.
I won't let you talk to me like that. - Listen!
(Meaningful music by Schubert)
(sighing) Good. - Sorry.
No, it's all good.
Okay, I'm listening to you.
I made a mistake.
I gave her a key to the house
and I have the feeling she's noticed something and might come here today.
I'm afraid she'll find me in the bathtub.
In the bathtub. - Yes. She really doesn't deserve that.
She's a good soul, she doesn't need another shock.
I really underestimated it somehow with the two of us.
I didn't think it would be this close.
And what...
What do you expect me to do now?
Be careful.
I got myself a pill, from Switzerland,
but to be on the safe side
I'll cut my wrists in the tub.
That's going to be a real mess, of course, and...
I want to ask you,
if you can wait here in the kitchen
until I'm dead,
and, if Wed-Thu comes, make sure that she doesn't go into the bathroom?
That's all. Everything else has been sorted out.
Afterwards you can use my cell phone to call the police,
they'll find the notes, everything is in here:
Funeral, inheritance.
I've sorted everything out.
...
that Mi-Do doesn't find me.
Oh.
In here
is the last and only valid version
of "Dying".
If anyone wants to perform it again.
Although my death might even help, I don't know.
(Meaningful music by Schubert)
You can't do that.
What? What's written there, or what's in the bathtub?
You can't write something like that and... - No judgment on that.
No positive, no negative, not from you or anyone else.
(Schubert's quintet fades away.)
(Wind noise)
(Tom sighs.)
Bernard?
Bernard, look at me please.
Tom, I'll do it.
(quietly) And I don't want to discuss it.
The only question
that we have to clarify
is whether you want to spare Mi-Do the shock.
And from this point on,
unfortunately, that is your responsibility.
(louder) I'm sorry for dragging you into this.
But hey,
that's what friends are for.
(Bernard laughs.)
To be there when things get uncomfortable.
(quietly) When things get uncomfortable?
Yes.
I'm going to the bathroom now.
Hey, Bernard.
Last hug?
Okay.
I love you, partner.
Thanks.
(Bernard locks the door and shakes the door.)
(The wind blows around the house.)
Bernard?
Bernard, let me in.
Hey! Partner!
(sighs) This can't all be true.
(Tom sighs.) - (A cell phone vibrates.)
Yes? - (Liv) Well? Still awake?
I just wanted to say thank you
for making Santa Claus.
Jessie was really happy.
I've never heard her babble so sweetly.
I have the feeling she'll start talking soon.
Moritz just left, I'm cleaning up, then I'm going to go to bed too.
(Jessie moans quietly.)
(quietly) I often imagine, when I look at Jessie,
that our child is lying there now.
What it would have done.
What it would have looked like.
What she would have been like. - "She"?
Mhm, I think it was a she.
Do you think what we did was wrong?
I don't know if right and wrong are the right words.
We decided that way back then,
because we didn't see any other way for ourselves.
But she lived in me. I felt that.
I think the hardest thing is that something is never just one thing,
but...
always much more.
Hmm. I'm just wondering if that makes everything easier or harder.
For some it makes life bearable, for others unbearable.
Don't watch Ingmar Bergman at Christmas.
It'll put you in a bad mood. - No, I'm with Bernard. - Oh, I see.
How's he?
(via loudspeaker) To be honest...
He wants to kill himself. - No! Again?
Yes, but this time he means it.
He's doing it, I could see it in his face. He's never looked so...
What? - Looked so relaxed.
What, "he does it"? But you're here, aren't you?
Yes, I'm here, but...
Actually just to make sure that Mi-Do doesn't accidentally...
Wait a minute: who is Mi-Do?
His current affair, a cellist from the orchestra.
So that she doesn't find him with his wrists slit.
Wait a minute, please. Is he lying there now, right?
(laughing) Yes, yes. (concerned) I think so.
(The sound of wind continues.)
I don't know...
I really don't know what to do.
Well, first get him out, right? - But he's unhappy.
Ever since I've known him, he's been unhappy.
Now over 20 years. - Bernard just likes to suffer.
He has an erotic relationship to suffering.
He couldn't write his music any other way.
Yes, it just flopped terribly.
Because your sister sabotaged it.
No, I don't think that's all it is.
(quietly) I really don't know what to do.
Kick the door down and get him out of there!
Does he have the right to decide for himself whether he wants to live?
He can't decide that because he's depressed.
He is disappointed about your premiere, lonely at Christmas.
You can't take that seriously.
Isn't that exactly what he wants? To be taken seriously in his suffering.
Not everyone has the talent to be happy.
Not everyone is helped by therapy, pills or anything
that society thinks up to stop us
making our own decisions about our lives. Or...
Or about our death.
Tom? You have to open the door and get him out of there, do you hear?
Hmm. - Because you have to do everything to save a human life.
You know that, right?
Liv? Liv, I have to... I'm going to finish now, OK? - Okay.
Tell Bernard that I'll... - (busy tone)
Tom?
(Jessie starts to cry.)
(silence)
Bernard?
(louder) Bernard?
(weakly) Let me go.
Yes, yes, I'll let you go.
I just didn't want to let you go without a hug.
(Bernard breathes loudly.)
(Tom) I'm calling from Bernard Drinda's house in Wolzig.
He's lying dead in his bathtub.
Mooswuffelweg 3 in Wolzig.
The patio door is only ajar.
(Wind noise)
(Roaring wind noise)
(Choral singing based on Isaiah 40:31) But they draw new strength.
They grow wings like eagles.
They run and don't get tired.
How could you do that, Tom?
Yes, he was depressed and wanted that, but you can't just...
It's so cold.
(Liv snorts.) - (The bells ring.)
(A door opens.)
(Applause)
(The applause ends.)
Bernard Drinda left a final version of the piece.
We will play it now.
(Passionate cello solo)
(Silence)
(Melancholy cello solo)
(Silence)
(Devoted cello solo)
(Silence)
(Sorrowful cello solo)
(Longing cello solo)
(Mi-Do's tone dissolves gracefully.)
(Poignant strings enter.)
(Devoted Cello music)
(Passionate cello music)
(Bell-like gong) - (Emotional strings)
(Passionate cello music)
(The music builds.)
(The music swells flaming on.)
(Devotional music)
(The music swells in flames.)
(Devotional music)
(The music swells in flames.)
(Soft cello music and gentle Strings)
(Mi-Do's tone dissolves gracefully.)
(Silence)
(Passionate cello solo)
(Silence)
(Devoted cello solo)
(Silence)
(Strong cello solo)
(Silence)
(Peaceful cello solo)
(Silence)
(Meaningful Cello solo)
(Silence)
(Cello solo becoming quieter)
(Mi-Do's sound gently dissolves.)
(Silence)
(Applause)
(The applause dies.)
(Buzz of voices)
Do you know that the composer has unfortunately died?
Yes, we know.
Absolutely fantastic. - Cheers to you.
(Buzz of voices)
We would be very happy too. - Thank you. - Have a nice evening.
Likewise. Thank you for being here. - Thank you for coming.
The sponsors are happy.
If the sponsors are happy, I am too.
Is everything actually okay between us?
Why?
I somehow had the feeling that you were avoiding me.
Nah. I had to deal with Bernard and so on...
(clears throat)
...with myself, has nothing to do with you.
I'm just asking because... um...
(gulping) I know, that our story
is actually over...
(trembling) But...
Uh...
You don't drink alcohol? - Mh.
Yes. We need to talk to each other.
(Tom sighs.)
Mr. Lunies? I didn't mean to disturb you.
Just thank you for your invitation. - That was obvious. - Incredibly great.
(Man) No question of taste, no aesthetic category.
This is just a big banality, a fart in the face of the avant-garde.
In my opinion, he was on his way "up".
(The babble of voices dies down.)
A poet once said:
"There is a land of the living and a land of the dead.
And in between is love."
It is with this in mind that we have come together here today,
to remember Lissy Lunies,
who spent the last 20 years of her life here in Hanstedt
(The baby starts to cry.)
What's bothering you? What's bothering you?
(Tom) What's bothering you, huh? What's wrong?
(Susanne) Do you lead the men's choir? - (Undertaker) No, you're wrong.
It could be, yes. It was so great. - I've heard a lot about it. - Yes.
Don't you do it anymore? - No.
Thank you. - Yes. Glad it worked out today.
Oh, this time I took a petrol car.
(sighs) Can you drive? - I'll just go...
Okay, be nice.
I'm always nice.
We really don't have to pretend now.
There's a coat hanging in the bedroom closet.
Mom has hidden a savings book there, with 5,000 euros in it.
She wanted you to have it.
(engine humming)
(squeaking, stuttering and clattering)
(emotional piano music)
Subtitles: SUBS Hamburg Anna Pristouschek