Original subtitles

(DARLING)

Hi, Kristian.

We who are about to die salute you.

Spare me the crap about how good I look, please.

Don't worry. You look like shit.

Kristian. Good to see you.

What do the doctors say?

You wanna know how I'm doing

or whether the job as director is available?

I have my hands full with Giselle.

They're already buzzing about, all the young hopefuls

who want to replace me as director.

I doubt I'll die just today.

We're on in half an hour.

You've always made him look good. You were never a great dancer.

But you're a good choreographer. I'll give you that.

I came across a DVD of the small thing you did at War Memorial.

Damn beautiful work. It brought tears to my eye.

Right... Welcome.

We're proud to present two stars, one of them homegrown.

They cost an arm and a leg, but we think they're worth it.

Darling Melander and Frans Tibling. All yours.

What's it like to be back?

It's incredibly overwhelming.

This is where it all began for me, so it's like coming home again.

I'd like to thank the Royal Danish Ballet for inviting us.

I'm humbled, and I can't wait to get started.

Good morning.

Giselle... The first act is light.

She is quite obviously the village beauty.

Then comes Prince Albrecht dressed as a peasant boy.

He fools her, conquers her, and abandons her.

In this version she stabs herself with his sword and dies.

The second act is dark. The prince is tormented by his conscience

and he is attacked by the Willis.

But Giselle rises up from the grave, forgives him, saves him,

and finds peace for herself.

The plot is strange. But the feelings are not.

To love someone.

To fall apart, to have regrets.

To be tormented by your conscience.

To be human.

Any bells ringing?

Okay. Let's dance.

Hi!

They say to talk to you if you're in pain?

How much pain?

Fentanyl, Vioxx...

Pretty disgusting!

- I love it. - Smoked fat and nitrite.

- Oh, you're so Swedish! - The skin's made of pig anus.

And so what?

Sweetheart. You taste of pig anus.

I love you. I love you.

Nice. Soft arms. Great.

Look at her. That's it.

Quick battus.

And plié.

And Dee. Softer arms, Dee. There.

Nice. Even lighter.

In the air.

Thank you. Thank you.

This last bit had its moments.

Express more sorrow, more the love that could have been.

- Makes sense? - Yeah.

We'll take it from Albrecht's variation.

And, Dee? Soar, the whole time.

Cross your legs in the attitude.

Yes, that's better.

Feel the longing. Fine.

Even softer arms, Dee. There.

I think we need to get a taxi.

Call a taxi.

Wait, wait...

Come here.

Get the door.

Please, sit down.

I apologize for the wait.

Please, say something.

You must have been in pain for quite some time.

- Well, I'm a dancer, so... - Some pain you have to take seriously.

Just tell it to us straight.

The femur cartilage is worn out

and you have developed cysts in the bone under the cartilage.

So what can you do about that?

Bone cysts indicate permanent damage.

Major surgery might provide some relief, but...

You don't know me. You don't know how stubborn I am.

But people run around with new hips and knees all the time.

I know it must be a heavy blow. You know it must be a heavy blow.

Drink... drink.

We'll do our Giselle.

I'm not finished.

I know my body, and this can be trained away.

You haven't said anything about the pain.

Why didn't you tell me how you felt?

Dee?

I always hurt all over. It's nothing new.

But not like this.

I've had pain in the extreme positions, in the battements and splits.

Other than that I've felt a pulling pain and a slipping sensation.

A slipping sensation.

Dee, you've got bone cysts, for Christ's sake.

I feel better already.

It doesn't hurt nearly as much as yesterday.

We just need a ten-day delay. Ok?

See, I'm putting weight on it.

And I can walk.

See, I'm putting weight on it. Two weeks.

I'll ask Kristian for more time.

No delay. End of discussion.

- Polly's in, and you're out. - You don't need to say any more.

Wrecked cartilage and bone cysts. It's not up for debate.

It's fine. I told you, no need to say any more.

It's fine. It's more than enough.

I thought my retirement was at least eight years away.

Then I'd play witches and mothers. They're always in demand.

I'm sorry.

For what?

For not being better at feeling sorry for you.

It's mutual. Bye.

Our new Giselle.

Okay...

Beatrice has put up a note where you can check

who you're covering now since Polly has moved up.

Take the rest of the day off.

There is really nothing that recently can be done.

I know that you need to dance.

That is in your mind, to dance at a high level.

With or without the surgery I don't see how you can do that.

I do caution you though, that people would do the surgery for you.

The chance of it helping is almost non-existent

and the chance of you getting worse is very real.

So that desperate move I think could really be harmful to you.

Dee?

Dee?

I want to get out.

Would you rather go back to New York?

I'll quit.

- Do you want us to go back? - And do what, Frans?

Don't... don't pity me!

You have a performance. You have a job to do.

Don't mope around here pitying me, period!

And I'll kill you if you leave me.

Right...

What do you long for? Tell me something you long for.

Love.

Where do you dream of dancing?

- New York. - Okay.

- What stage? - The Met.

There. See what happened there?

In your eyes when you said New York? There. That longing.

Extend your arms. Good. Eyes on your hand.

Extend. Point your battu...

There, good.

Extend your arabesque properly.

Arms in arabesque.

Next.

Extend there. From the top.

Dynamic glissade.

Better... better!

Quick battus... Good.

Lead with your foot.

And thank you. Let's take ten minutes.

- Hi. How are you? - Fine, thanks.

Hi.

She's not bad.

There's a purity about her. Graceful. Very beautiful.

But?

A bit mechanical. I don't feel anything.

We're talking about my Giselle, and we don't feel anything.

We could look at her together.

Okay.

Fine, Polly. That's all for today.

Could we try the piqué manege again?

But not as controlled. A little wilder.

I think you're holding back.

A higher passé and use your back more. Yes.

One more time, with a wider manege.

Frans, what time is it?

It won't work.

Our idea about Giselle won't work.

You could have done a sexy, edgy Giselle but fucking Polly...

She jumps. She doesn't soar.

She isn't you. I don't have the time to get there.

I can get her there.

I'll do a boot camp with her.

You don't think I can do it?

- Sure. You can do it. - She could be really great.

I really think so.

Okay. I'll take the first rehearsals and then you can take her afterwards.

- Okay? - Okay.

Deal. Let's go to sleep.

Half a sleeping pill?

See? And give yourself time to take it in.

Everything's surreal and misty.

You don't even recognize your own mother.

And... you remember love.

Forward, forward...

And you remember the flower.

Less and less. Forget the steps.

Loves you... Loves you not...

Feel the sorrow. Must get away.

Can't bear it. Must get away. Get away, gone.

And then you see the sword.

Thank you.

You have to take in the sword.

It's not just a prop lying there. Nothing is "just there" on stage.

What does the sword do to you? You must fill every moment with life.

It must come from within. I need to feel it.

You have to... venture into the moment

when nothing happens yet everything is happening.

Giselle alternates

between madness and realization, smiles and disaster.

You must feel it. The longing for... what has been and... Yes...

Are you okay?

Why do you ask that?

It must be a little hard for you.

Let's say that if you want to feel things, you dance them, okay?

Look me in the eye. We're going to descend into darkness.

Your world is shattered. The prince just used you for his own pleasure.

You mean nothing. You are nothing.

Let's take it from where you turn.

I want you.

No, not like this. I need to lie down.

Ouch, not so much weight.

- Does this work? - Yes.

- What's happening? - Wait.

Kiss me. Kiss me.

- Let's wait. - No, kiss me.

Let's take a little break.

Her whole world is shattered now, and we must feel that.

Let's take it from when she turns around.

Yes?

She turns around slowly.

Slowly.

Everything is so surreal

and misty.

She doesn't even recognize her own mother.

And then she remembers love.

The flower.

She constantly alternates between the feelings.

What's up?

What?

I'll never be as good as you.

You aren't me and you're not supposed to be me.

Try again. From when you turn around.

I'm feeling pretty tired.

You're feeling pretty tired? You're feeling pretty tired, huh?

Know what I'd like to do?

I'd like to saw off your legs and dance on them myself. Tired!

Kristian really knew how to whip a company into shape. He sure did.

We were scared stiff of him.

I often ran to the bathroom to cry and then I'd come back in again.

But he shaped me. He opened up dance for me, he made me blossom.

Well, now it's over. I'm nothing now.

I know it's not the same.

But you mean so much to me now.

To work with you... It's fantastic.

So much has happened for me!

You're fantastic.

Like that. That's how I want you to feel.

That's so good. Remember that feeling. Bring it to rehearsal tomorrow.

I want more back.

Won't that be too loose at the shoulder?

Are they peasant girls or whores?

Your nose is bleeding.

Relax. It'll be bleeding from now until the premiere.

It's a ghost. A spirit searching for its form.

It longs to live and feel its heart beating again.

It's restless and afraid. You mustn't make it too pretty...

You have a nose bleed again.

I think I've got something.

- Here you go. - Thanks.

I know how you feel.

No, you don't.

Naked. Foolish. Afraid. Confused.

Stupid. Pathetic.

We're quite happy.

- We who? - The dancers.

We think you're brave. Not afraid of going out on a limb.

I like that it's not too prudish. I think it's going to be really great.

Ready for notes?

- Thanks for today. - Thank you.

- What? - What?

You look so...

I just asked if you're ready for notes.

- That I am. - Yes?

Then why worry about how I look?

I don't know what we're discussing.

I don't think we're discussing anything. Or are we?

I gotta go to costume. We'll take your notes later.

Well done.

It was just the first run-through.

Yeah, but I think we're really making progress with you.

I have a few notes. I still think your pas de deux is too tame.

This is where we see her strength and resolve. We should see her saving him.

It's just tough to see a young dancer

who could go that extra mile be content with less.

I think you could go even further. I think you can be fabulous.

So I won't leave you alone until you tell me to stop.

What notes have you got?

Let's go to the small studio.

Down, down, down, down.

Fifth, fifth, fifth, fifth. Come!

More épaulement. Down! Fifth...

And stretch... Extend, extend. Don't pose.

Hip down. Up.

Turnout. Extend that wrist. And up.

Get those arms down.

And spot, spot, spot, spot!

Sharper head. Sharper head! What are you doing with those arms?

What did we agree? Precisely. It suits you much better.

Once again. Quatre and passé. Quatre and passé.

- What's happening? - My knee really hurts.

We have to round this off. You don't have control of your arms.

You're flapping your arms like a butterfly.

- That's how Frans wants it. - But we... You can't be fragile now.

We want drive. Feel the energy of the music.

Forceful arabesques and strong quatres. Right, Polly?

I don't know if this works. With both you and Frans.

You often disagree. I have to do it like this and then like that.

It's a process. We tug and we pull to get it right.

- That's how we make it work. - I don't know what I'm doing.

But I know what you're doing. And I know where you're at.

You're a muddle of technique, feelings and nerves,

and suddenly you lose control. But you will get there.

Because I'm going to help you, okay?

It's okay to cry. Use it now.

The loss, the sorrow, everything that's out of reach. Use it.

Okay? Yeah?

We'll take the same part as before.

We're stopping.

Frans said Giselle doesn't want revenge.

She shows her frailty and her sorrow.

I'll clear it with him. He'll be delighted with the added intensity.

We're talking about the last mile, Polly.

Enough for today.

My knee really hurts and it's swollen. It needs rest.

You're a dancer, and your premiere is right around the corner.

It used to take me 15 minutes to put my heels on the floor in the morning.

I danced an entire act on a broken foot once.

And you're giving up because of a swollen knee.

I get that you're tired. But whining about it won't help.

- Come here. - What's that?

Relax. I know what I'm doing.

Slide it forward. There.

There... There you go. Abracadabra.

Take three of the white ones max twice a day

and a light blue one before a run-through.

The small ones are to help with stomach problems the others might cause.

You might get a bit constipated.

Here you go.

The music needs to be lower for the pas de deux. Much lower.

Hi.

I'll talk to them, but please remind me.

Hi. Very good.

- Out with it. - Polly's arms are all over the place.

She forgets about them and they're fluttering.

But she does have interesting moments.

The crowd scenes in Act 1 are almost there.

But Albrecht needs a stronger reaction to Giselle's madness

or we won't sympathize with him in Act 2.

Bye.

The harvest festival lacks a climax of some kind.

Alex is good, but Pepe is better, and that's a shame.

Polly just isn't strong enough in the death dance. She looks pathetic.

- Thank you. - Yes.

- He's in great shape, Frans. - Of course.

I was just in the auditorium. He isn't shellshocked anymore.

He's working hard. It looks good. What about the Ballet School?

What about it?

They can always use a competent teacher.

You can have any class you want.

The little ones, the big ones, you choose.

Hi.

Where are we?

I think it's a little fragile right now.

I just have to bring it all together.

Anything you want to share?

If it's about Polly, you'd better open up.

No, she's almost there.

She was good today.

"Good". There was a time when we weren't satisfied with "good".

A time when we gritted our teeth. We ate ourselves and the last 5%.

I'll take Polly for the last bit on my own.

You've been a great help. And I thank you for that.

Okay.

Well, I'm right here if you run into trouble again.

What are you doing? Polly should be on stage now.

Just give us half an hour.

I need Polly for the harvest festival. I haven't got half an hour.

But I think you can see that your Giselle

looks a bit dizzy when she's saving her prince.

Okay. Thanks for the note, Dee,

but I told you I'd take Polly from now on. You don't remember I said that?

- Sure, but she isn't nailing Act 2. - Stop it, both of you!

We're creating a performance, damn it.

Dee, thank you. So long. Go home and stay away from Polly.

- I'll stay away from Polly? - Yes.

Daddy sounds angry and disappointed.

I don't think it's her job to fill me with all kinds of stuff either.

She gave me these pills, a shot of cortisone in my knee

and said: "Abracadabra."

On stage. Now.

You... come here.

You need a longer back and a longer neck in all your positions.

Your neck vanishes into your shoulders, killing the elegance.

You look like a cripple. Come on. Long neck.

Épaulement. Up.

Hey, higher! Higher, come on.

It's gotta hurt a little sometime.

Are you okay?

They may need a new artistic director soon. Who knows?

- You think I should apply for the job? - I wasn't thinking about you.

I doubt Frans has the balls for it.

Frans is growing. I'm watching him.

His balls are growing. If you haven't noticed?

Thrilling.

Why don't you stop by my office one of these days for a visit?

To do what?

We could talk about the old days.

Sounds promising.

If you haven't got anything better to do.

Hey.

- What are you doing to Polly? - What?

What are you doing to Polly?

Polly, Polly, Polly. Can't we talk about something else, for fuck's sake?

I'll ask you again. What are you doing to Polly?

Am I doing anything?

- Are you doing anything? - Dancers hurt, Frans.

- They do? - Yes.

Or maybe they're just not ambitious enough.

A sore knee. Boo-fucking-hoo.

Is it time for the story about how you danced an act on a broken foot?

We sure take good care of our dancers nowadays.

I can't afford to lose any more ballerinas.

No, but you want the very best at no cost.

Okay, listen to me. It's beginning to come together for me.

Good.

My production is materializing in front of me. I have faith in what I'm doing.

Thank you for what you've accomplished with Polly. I mean it.

But from now on, you stay away from her. Back off!

"Back off..."

- Is this a bad time? - No.

Well, sit down.

I've got so much time on my hands.

Yes, you are lucky.

So much time that I'm considering writing my memoirs.

"Memoirs of a Ballerina".

Or about when you gave me my nickname. That's a nice story.

"You're no Diana. You're a Darling."

I was your Darling more than anyone else's.

Yes.

I didn't do anything you didn't want me to.

I was head over heels in love with you.

And I took it all in.

Everything you said about love, dance and life.

"We don't dance. We make love."

I was devastated when I found out you said it to other dancers than me.

You got a few bruises. You have to get bruised to be good.

Do you want me to say thank you?

It was marvellous to see you evolve from bud to flower.

I've always loved ferociously.

It got you out into the world, the major parts, all your success.

But the ballet master can't touch until the ballerina turns 18.

Until then it's not allowed.

I didn't do anything you didn't want me to. It's ages ago.

Yeah, it is a long time ago.

Nobody touches me anymore.

You're going to step down.

Tell them you've given it a lot of thought, and you're done.

There's more to life than ballet

and you're entitled to enjoy your last days.

And Frans puts on a beautiful Giselle.

You'll put in a good word for him and no one owes anyone anything.

You'll step down.

Good morning. I'm sorry...

It's okay.

What are you doing?

Hi, sweetheart.

Where have you been?

Sorry, sorry.

Wanna get room service? Room service.

And what about you? What have you been up to today?

Hi. Beautiful, Polly. I mean it.

I know I'm not allowed to interfere, and I don't need to anymore.

You were lovely.

Okay. Thanks.

I want you to know that I'm very grateful for all you've done for me.

Thank you.

You've made a huge difference to me.

Well, you've worked really hard for it, so...

You'll do great tomorrow.

Everyone seems really happy.

Frans and the other dancers.

They're all praising me.

You're really good. Good enough to do Giselle in Copenhagen anyway.

Just dance and enjoy it, alright?

The audience can't tell the difference anyway.

They'll applaud you no matter what.

Either you've got it or you don't. You haven't got it.

You're not me, so...

Bye!

Hi.

I told you to stay away. I told you to back off.

It's my production, my Giselle!

But you just had to break Polly the day before the premiere.

Break her? What is she, made of porcelain?

You seem to be forgetting a lot these days.

Like who you owe your career to.

You're not leaving me, Frans.

I'm really sorry about your hip. But don't drag us all down, damn it!

Don't leave me.

You got your jobs because of me. Because I was part of the package.

Fuck you!

Frans...

I'm the broken one, Frans.

I'm the one who's broken.

What did you expect?

That they'd fly the flag at half-mast? Close the theater?

Don't go. Please don't go. I can't be alone, Frans.

Don't... I can't be alone, Frans.

- Stay away. - Don't go.

Stay away from the theater. If I see you, I'll kick you out.

You've already had your hands on her, haven't you?

How utterly classic, you son of a bitch!

Come here... come here.

It's okay. We'll get through this.

I've taken care of us. I got you the job.

- What? - It's yours.

- What the fuck are you talking about? - It'll be fantastic.

What will be fantastic?

I know that we can do great things with our own company.

- I cleared it with Kristian. - What the fuck are you talking about?

He's stepping down. Just reach out and the job is yours.

You cleared it with Kristian?

I didn't mean to tell you, but it's yours! It's true.

What the fuck do you mean you cleared it with Kristian and got me the job?

I'm trying to help you, Frans.

I'm trying to help you.

I'm trying to help you.

Don't go, Frans. We love each other. I love you.

- Your hip isn't your worst problem. - Don't go!

- Let go of me! - I love you, Frans. Don't!

Okay.

I know you'll all do your best so there's no need to talk about that.

Just trust that and let it happen. That's really all I have to say.

Toi, toi.

Toi, toi.

Congratulations. Once again. A beautiful Giselle. A star is born.

And by the way, you can go screw yourselves.

You and Frans. Screw you. I don't give a fuck about my legacy.

Frans can apply for my position

if I step down and I don't give a fuck whether he gets it or not.

I don't give a fuck about who you all fuck,

or who's fond of who or who loves who.

Do what you want.

Run for the light

because soon it will be dark and tomorrow you'll be forgotten.

All of you.

We who are about to die salute you.

It's some of the most beautiful work you've ever done, Frans.

You saw it?

Yes.

I just want to walk and keep on walking.

I'll kill you if you leave me.

DARLING