All language subtitles for When Nietzsche Wept 2007 1080p AMZN WEB-DL DDP2 0 H 264-GPRS

[music playing]

LOU [VOICEOVER]: Dr.
Breuer, I must see you

on a matter of life or death.

Meet me at 9:00 tomorrow
morning at the Cafe Rousse.

[band playing]

Matter of life or death.

Hmph.

WOMAN IN BACKGROUND:
[inaudible] ride in today?

MAN IN BACKGROUND: Very well.

[inaudible]

WOMAN IN BACKGROUND: I
haven't seen you in a while.

MAN IN BACKGROUND: Well,
I've been working [inaudible]

- [laughs]
- Dr. Breuer?

Lou Salome.

How do you do?

May I?

Would you like a coffee?

Yes.

Cafe latte.

JOSEF: Waiter,
cafe latte, please.

LOU: My friend is
preparing to kill himself.

This man's death would have
momentous consequences for me,

for you, for all of the world.

Who is this friend?

The philosopher
Friedrich Nietzsche.

Nietzsche?

Should I know of him?

LOU: Not yet.

But in time, we shall
all know of him.

NIETZSCHE: How do
we confirm a truth?

Because truth is arrived
at through disbelief

and skepticism, and not
through some childlike

wishing something works.

The desire to be in
God's hands is not truth.

It is a child's wish for
the everlasting [inaudible]

the nipple.

[chuckles] We have
evolutionary theory.

Evolutionary theory
scientifically

demonstrates God's redundancy.

So Darwin himself had not the
courage to follow his evidence

to its true conclusion.

So where are we?

Surely, you must realize we all
have created God, and all of us

together have killed him.

God is dead.

My friend is sick.

What is the nature
of his illness?

Headaches--
tormenting headaches.

My dear lady, I
will see your friend.

I'm a physician.

I know you can hear
his physical condition.

That is not why I'm here.

Nietzsche suffers from
the deepest despair.

That is what I ask you to heal.

I can not cure despair.

Ah, but you can, doctor.

I have a spy.

My brother, a medical
student attended the class

which you described
in your technique--

the talking cure.

Now, I can arrange to see
Nietzsche to your office,

but he must believe you are
treating only his headaches.

Tell me, is yours
a Russian accent?

It is.

Well, perhaps the
people in Russia

believe in the sorcerers.

But sorry, fraulein,
I am Austrian.

I have no magic to offer you.

[music playing]

May I walk you
back to your hotel?

I would enjoy that,
but my wife would

be watching from the window.

I have a duty.

Duty?

It is my duty to
be free of duty.

Doctor, save Nietzsche.

[MUSIC - JOHANN STRAUSS II, "THE
BLUE DANUBE"]

JOSEF: I am sorry.

I had hoped it was hepatitis.

[WEAKLY] How long do I have?

It is best you put
your affairs in order.

Please, doctor.

How long?

Please, tell us.

Three to six months.

NURSE: Are you
all right, doctor?

Make sure the Pfeiffers
are never billed again.

Of course

And cancel all their
outstanding debts to me.

Of course.

A Fraulein Salome has
suddenly arrived--

[scoffs] a very
grand young woman.

Show her in.

But [inaudible] has
been waiting for hours.

[inaudible]

[music playing]

Fraulein Salome.

Dr. Breuer.

I see you like to do
things for yourself.

Doesn't that deprive men
the pleasure of serving you?

We both know that
some of the services men

provide are not
necessarily good for women.

The habits of a
lifetime are not

easily extinguished, my dear.

Your future husband will
need extensive retraining.

No husband for me--

ever.

I would not do that to a man.

[music playing]

[inaudible] you use
this new technique,

do not attempt to
use this mesmerism

method with Nietzsche.

Our patient would
refuse to engage

in any process he
perceives as surrendering

his power to another.

And are you responsible
for our patient's despair?

He believes I am.

Where has God gone?

I shall tell you.

God is dead and we all have
killed him-- you, you, you,

and I.

PRIEST: Father burn you in hell!

NIETZSCHE: After
the death of Buddha,

his shadow was shone
for centuries in caves--

a crucial, crucial shadow.

PRIEST: God should punish you.
You're Satan!

But given the way of people--

[door slams] [inaudible]
caves-- thank you--

for thousands of years in which
God's shadow will to be shown.

Vanquish the shadow
within yourself.

Friedrich?

Friedrich?

Meet Lou Salome, brilliant
poet from Russia.

Fascinating lecture
to fall on so few ears.

[weak chuckle]

Why are people so
afraid of you, professor?

Oh, truth is a fearsome thing.

Why do you say God is dead,
and not that he never existed?

What do you think?

That God has ceased
to be a reckoning

force in people's lives.

[weak chuckle] An
interesting interpretation.

But if God is dead, then
everything is permitted--

no morals, no rules.

Without God, who will
organize our society?

What is the solution to
your godless proposition?

[laughs] From what
stars have we dropped

down to each other here?

Auf Wiedersehen.

LOU: I was immediately
attracted to him,

seduced by his intellect.

[music playing]

We could say so much to each
other with half sentences--

mere gestures.

We became obsessed,
proposing marriage

after our first meeting.

I was attracted to him,
but not romantically.

I wanted to learn,
not to submit.

[inaudible]!

LOU: My refusal turned
his love into hatred.

He wrote me these [inaudible]
insulting letters.

Then he wrote about
killing himself.

So if I understand
you correctly,

you want me to persuade
Nietzsche that his life is

worth living, but
I must accomplish

this without him knowing it.

You are the only
doctor qualified

for this psychological
treatment.

[door opens]

[inaudible] is still
waiting, and still suffering.

LOU: One more thing.

You must read his books.

I shall do everything I
can to help your friend.

[music playing]

Good night, Dr. Breuer.

JOSEF: Good night.

Straight home, [inaudible].

[distressed whimpering]

Try to stay calm.

Try to stay calm.

Try to stay calm, Bertha.

[bell tolling]

Sigmund.

Sigmund.

Where are you racing to?

The most charming
woman in Vienna

has invited me for dinner.

A more charming husband is on
his way home this very minute.

Jump in, Siggy.

I diagnosed liver cancer today.

I never get used
to my patients dying.

Well, get used to
it, young Dr. Freud.

[grandfather clock chiming]

The children are eating.

Say hello to them.

[interposing voices]

My little chickens.

See what I mean, Siggy?

He hardly talks to them.

[sighs] Oh, by the way,
I've taken on a new patient.

I haven't met him yet--

suicidal tendencies.

As always, it
starts with a woman.

[chuckles]

But Josef, lovesickness
is not a medical condition.

The story gets even better
because the woman feels guilty.

She wants me to seek in a cure
for his psychological distress

while, at the same time, I
address his physical ailments.

Surely, you're not
going to attempt this.

[breathes deeply]

I have already agreed.

Why?

I don't even know, myself.

[music playing]

Perhaps I need a
challenge like this.

You cannot say no to this woman.

She could persuade
a horse to lay eggs.

[chuckles]

LOU [VOICEOVER]:
Our plan is working.

Dr. Overbeck has persuaded
Nietzsche to consult you.

Neither I nor
Nietzsche shall ever

forget your kindness in this.

The professor is here.

JOSEF: Send him in.

Good day, Herr Professor.

Please.

Please, have a seat.

Tell me about your illness.

Would it be more
efficient to review

my previous consultations?

I'm sure they are excellent
physicians, thank you.

But I make my own diagnosis
before reviewing those

of my colleagues, just
as I prefer to see a play

before reading the reviews.

[door opens]

[music playing]

Tell me, professor,
to what extent

does melancholia accompany
these migraine attacks?

I have my black
periods, but who does not?

They do not hurt me.

They're not of my
illness, but of my being.

A life dominated
by black periods

is a breeding
ground for despair.

Despair?

No.

Perhaps once, but not now.

No.

I'm just pregnant.

[chuckles] Here.

My headaches are the
labor pains of my--

my new book.
- Ah.

What book?

[singing]

NIETZSCHE: Zarathustra.

A young prophet
bursting with wisdom,

and courage, and
truthfulness decides

to enlighten the people.

I'll teach you the ubermensch.

Man is something that
must be overcome.

What have you done
to overcome man?

[quiet laugh]

What is the ape to man?

[laughter]

A laughingstock or
a thing of shame.

Just that man shall
be to the ubermensch.

The people refuse to
understand his words

and the prophet, realizing
he's come too soon,

returns to his solitude.

So like Zarathustra,
I come too soon.

I must ask you a
personal question.

Physical well-being is
not separable from social

and psychological well-being.

Is there someone
with whom you have--

You're referring
to sex, doctor?

Well--

I have found
that a [inaudible]

of bestial pleasure is followed
by hours of self-loathing.

So such herd pleasures
are not for me.

But is there a
woman in your life?

Every time I have attempted
to build a footbridge to us,

I have been beside.

First, there was the
composer they called Wagner.

I have suffered because of him.

And later, my best
friend with that woman.

Tell me more about that woman.

And why?

It's connected
to your illness.

Trust me in this.

I cannot afford
to trust again.

Then I believe,
Herr Professor,

that we can proceed no further.

Have a safe journey
home, Herr Professor

[horse neighing]

DRIVER: Stupid, stupid animal.

Hey!
Hey!

[inaudible]

[inaudible]

Stop it!

Leave the horse alone!

Leave it--

[thud]

Herr Professor,
are you all right?

Shhh.

Can we meet--

[panting] again?

Friday afternoon, same time?

Good night.

[music playing]

Breathe deeply, Bertha.

Did you have any
dreams last night?

Yes.

I dreamt you were
making love to me.

Really?

Yes.

I'm just going to examine you.

Don't worry.

This is perfectly normal--

- What are you doing?
- --procedure.

No.

What are you doing?
No!

- [inaudible]
- Stop it!

You are mine!

[hysterical laughter]

Josef!

Josef!

[interposing voices]

How could you!

What are you
doing, Dr. Breuer?

That was horrible.

Horrible!

Dr. Breuer, you
are now a free man.

[panicked groan]

Go back to Russia,
you syphilitic whore!

He's mine.
- No!

He's mine!
- He's mine!

- He is mine!
- No.

He is mine.

He is mine!

He's mine!

[sounds of struggle]

[cymbals sound]

[applause]

[music playing]

[gasps]

[owl hooting]

[music playing]

[mumbling]

[birds singing]

JOSEF [READING]: There
was a time in our lives

when we were so close
that nothing seemed

to obstruct our friendship, when
only a footbridge separated us.

I asked you, do you want to
cross the footbridge to me?

But you did not want to.

What do you make of it, Siggy?

I'm not sure.

Let's reason it out.

The first man can
no longer cross

because he fears
he is submitting

his power to the other person.

Yes.

Yes, you're right.

He interprets any expression
of positive sentiment

as a bid for power.

Hmm.

It makes it almost
impossible to get close to him.

It's all here.

May I see it?

And reveal his identity?

And why not?

Perhaps if you lend
this book to Siggy,

you won't hide in your
study all night reading it.

Mathilda, stop.

What am I to do when I watch
you withdraw more and more

from me and the children?

First that woman.

Now this Nietzsche.

Friedrich Nietzsche?

To this day, I regret
listening to you.

The transfer of Bertha
to another doctor

remains one of the
great shames of my life!

Excellent books.

Very few copies
have been sold.

Then your publisher is
a fool for not championing

these with his life's blood.

Your writing is short,
brief sentences, but--

NIETZSCHE: It is my ambition
to say in 10 sentences what

others say in a whole book.

As to your migraines, I
believe the fundamental cause

lies in stress, due
to upsetting events

in your work, your family,
your personal relationships.

I've given up teaching.

I have no home to look
after, no wife to quarrel,

no children to discipline.

I have no obligations to anyone.

I have no stress.

Your extreme isolation
is stress in itself.

Great thinkers choose
their own company, no?

Undisturbed by the mob.

Consider Thoreau,
Spinoza, Buddha.

Professor, stress
is our enemy.

My task is to help you
reduce stress in your life.

I propose that you enter my
Lauzon Clinic for one month

of observation and treatment.

We have new medications
for migraine.

I will visit you daily.

I'm unable to pay.

For such services, money
doesn't matter to me.

It will be free.

And why are you doing this?

You came to me for help.
I offer it.

I am a doctor.

Far too simple.

Human motivation is
far more complex.

What is your motive?

Why are you here?

Because of strong
pressure from my friends

and my headaches.

I ask again, what is your
motive if you don't request

payment for such services?

One practices
one's profession.

A cobbler cobbles, a baker
bakes, a doctor doctors.

Why do you write?

Why philosophize?

You earn nothing from your work.

I do not claim I
philosophize for you.

Whereas you, doctor, continue
to pretend that your motive is

to serve me, and those
claims have nothing

to do with human motivation.

Now, what are your motives?

My motives?

Yes.

My motives?

Who can answer such a question?

I believe you are destined to
become a great philosopher.

My mission is to aid you
in becoming who you are.

So you, as my savior,
can become even greater?

I did not say that.

Do you know my patients are the
leading scientists, artists,

and musicians in Vienna?

Yes.

And at this moment, you use
their eminence to enhance

your authority with me.

I will never
exploit your name.

I will still be used by you.

Nonsense!

NIETZSCHE: Pity or
charity, your techniques

to help me, to manage me--

all of these make you
strong at my expense.

This is a perfect
example of why you

cannot dissect your own psyche.

Your vision is
blurred, profesor.

You need help.

You are about to make a mistake.

Ah, then go, already!

You crazed, deluded Christian.

[match crackles]

[music playing]

Shabbat Shalom.

Cheers.

[interposing voices]

[piano being played]

[laughter]

[screams]

[pained exhale]

[glass shatters]

[screams]

[music playing]

[birds singing]

[laughs]

[giggles]

[laughs] Come here.

[screams]

[dire music]

[thudding]

[knocking on door]

[WHISPERS] Josef, who is it?

[panting] Your
patient, Nietzsche,

he is dying in my hotel.

[music playing]

DRIVER: Yah!

Yah!

Yah!

Yah!

[door hinges whine]

[piano being played]

Get me some ice.

Dear god.

Bring me some blankets.

[ragged breathing]

Herr Professor?

Professor Nietzsche?

Friedrich, take the pain.

Take the pain in.

You will feel better.

Help me.

[gasps]

[music playing]

[birds singing]

That much [inaudible] is a
poison and a sleep inducer.

You could have died.

Oh, living, dying.

Who cares?

I should be in your
office tomorrow

with what I owe before my
train leaves for Basel.

Basel?

Yes.

Surely not.

Not until this crisis is over.

I'm leaving tomorrow.

[ballroom music playing]

You know, part of me
holds some strange hope

that, by helping this
bizarre creature overcome

his own suffering, I
might defeat my own.

Defeat your suffering?

You are the envy of
every doctor in Vienna.

One feels things at 40 that
one cannot possibly know at 25.

I must stop him from leaving.

There must be a way.

Perhaps if you had disclosed
yourself to Nietzsche,

you might have engaged him.

Once you gain his
trust, he might

open up like a steamed clam.

I think I know a way, Siggy.

I think I know a way.

Your documents and
receipt, Herr Professor.

Auf Wiedersehen.

[WEAKLY] Auf Wiedersehen.

Professor Nietzsche, may I
have a word before you leave?

I have a proposition to
make, professor, perhaps

never before made by a
doctor to his patient.

I propose a
professional exchange.

For one month, I will act
as physician to your body

if you will act as
physician to my mind.

What do you mean?

That you doctor me and I--

I teach you philosophy?

No, no, no.

Not teach me.

Heal me.

Of what?

Despair.

I see no despair.

Not on the surface,
but underneath,

my mind is invaded
by alien thoughts.

I've lost sight of why I live.

I'm terrified of death, yet I
often think of ending my life.

But I cannot
help you with this.

I've no training.

Who is trained?

Such healing is not a part
of the medical discipline.

What do I of this?

You know more
than any man alive.

Aren't your books entire
teachings on despair?

I can't cure despair.

I only know how to tolerate it.

Then teach me how to
tolerate a life of despair.

You write that your mission is
to save humankind from illusion

at aimlessness--

to create a new
code of behavior,

a new morality free
of superstition.

It's all there, in your books.

This is my offer.

You enter my clinic for 30 days.

I will observe and treat
your medical illness daily.

In return, you
become my physician

and help me talk about
my life's concerns.

Look, I am indebted
to more than any man.

You saved my life.

I'm just a writer.

I'm not a doctor.

You can pay your
debt by saving my life,

the way I saved yours.

So what?

I do this for you
to relieve my debt?

My motivation is
entirely self-serving.

I want to save my life.

But are you strong
enough to do this?

[music playing]

JOSEF: I will persuade him--

[door shuts]

--that he is the only
one who can help.

And then what?

Then I will reverse the roles.

He will once again
be the patient

and I will be the physician.

And what happens
when Nietzsche turns

to you to cure his despair?

Siggy, I'm convinced
there's something

healing in unburdening.

Look at the Catholics.

Their priests have been offering
confessions for centuries.

Nietzsche is a solitary man.

Yet, a few nights ago,
he opened up to me--

a real plea for help.

[WEAKLY] Help me.

What you saw were his
unconscious desires.

Those that, if they
were liberated,

could scream for
help in daylight.

The goal of my talking
cure is to liberate

those buried desires,
to allow the patient

to ask for help openly.

But is liberation
the right turn?

Isn't it integration
that we are after?

Integration of
the unconscious--

BOTH: with the conscious.

Yes.

Yes, Sigmund.

Very good.

Take a seat.

Remove your stethoscope.

And your coat as well.

I made a list of
your complaints.

One, you have a
general unhappiness.

Two, you are besieged
by alien thoughts.

Three, self-hatred.

Four, fear of aging.

Five, fear of death.

Six, urges toward suicide.

Anything else?

I feel completely
remote and distant

from my wife, trapped in a
world not of my own choosing.

And is that one more
problem now or two?

[weak laughter]

Now you make me
feel uncomfortable.

It is my task to make
you feel comfortless.

No, no, no.

Professor, your
approach is all wrong.

Mr. Breuer, we made
an agreement here.

Mr. Breuer?

Do you want us to
proceed, Mr. Breuer?

You mentioned your wife last,
which tells me it begins there.

What initiated this change
in your feelings toward her?

[distant thunder]

[uncomfortable grunt]
Two years ago, I took

on the case of a young woman.

This patient-- I gave her
the pseudonym Anna O--

suffers from what the doctors
call hysterical behavior.

I can't!

- You need to relax.
- No.

I can't!
[screams]

Try to stay calm.

JOSEF: During our daily
meetings, she opened up to me,

shared the details of
every disturbing event

of the last 24 hours.

She called these confessions
chimney-sweeping.

[laughs]

I prefer to call it
the talking cure.

Unfortunately, the
course of treatment

was terminated by
its insane ending.

How?

I fell in love
with my patient.

She and her mother were
friendly with my wife.

[shaky breathing]

Bertha?

[distressed whimper]

What's wrong?

Stop it, Bertha.

[labored breathing]

What's wrong?

I'm pregnant.

I'm pregnant with
your husband's baby.

[music playing]

BERTHA: Here it comes,
Dr. Breuer's little baby.

[manic laughing]

Stop it!

Stop it right now!

Bertha!

[slap]

It was the delirium speaking,
of course-- her illness.

But my wife forbade
me to see her again.

What did you do?

JOSEF: I'm sorry, my dear, I
cannot be your doctor anymore.

But I've done nothing wrong.

Of course you haven't.

I will refer you to
a colleague of mine.

[whimpers]

He will take good care of you.

Please don't let me go.

Please?

I have no choice.

You will always be
the only man in my life.

Always.

JOSEF: Can you
imagine how terrible

it was to hear those words?

They were evidence of
the damage I had done.

I left her weakened, crippled.

NIETZSCHE: You are
responsible for all

of your thoughts and deeds.

But she, by virtue of
this so-called illness--

she is exonerated
from everything?

Who has damaged whom?

Who has weakened whom?

Doesn't this cripple, Bertha--

as you call her--

have greater power over you?

JOSEF [VOICEOVER]: An
excellent beginning.

He even developed a
list of my problems.

[erratic piano playing]

NIETZSCHE [VOICEOVER]:
Breuer is a curious mix--

intelligence, yet blind.

Sincere, but devious.

JOSEF [VOICEOVER]: Let
him continue to think

that this is what we are doing.

NIETZSCHE [VOICEOVER]: He
is possessed by a woman

who shreds to pieces.

[laughs] And he licks--

[piano playing intensifies]

--her bloody fangs.

[nietzsche laughing]

I love it, Josef.

What do you love, Friedrich?

Tchaikovsky.

Why?

Swan Lake!

[laughter]

[BELL TOLLS AND LAUGHTER TURNS
TO SCREAMING]

NIETZSCHE: [laughs] Josef, look.

We're running out of time.

[CLOCK TICKING AND THUNDER
CLAPPING]

[screams] Backwards!

I've got to pedal backwards!

We're running out of time!

Faster yourself!

Pedal faster!

[MUSIC - PYOTR
ILYICH TCHAIKOVSKY,

"SWAN LAKE SUITE OPUS 71A"]

[lightning crackles]

Take me, Josef.

Take me.

[manic laughing] Throw
away your shackles.

Sticks and stones
may break my bones,

but this will never hurt me.

[manic laughing]

[MUSIC - PYOTR
ILYICH TCHAIKOVSKY,

"SWAN LAKE SUITE OPUS 71A"]

[lightning cracking]

[thunder clapping]

[gasps]

I fear that after
yesterday's confessions,

you will think less of me.

Do not worry about
what others think of you.

I suspect you find
sex disagreeable.

I do not object to sex.

What I hate is a man who
begs for it, who surrender

themselves to some
crafty woman who turns

his lust into her strength.

Lust is part of life.

And nothing must interfere
with the development

of a hero, which is inside you.

And if lust stands in the
way, lust must be overcome.

Be more practical.

All you give are quotes
from your book's philosophy.

First time I've
attempted to put

my philosophy in practical use.

[door handle rattles]

Choose between comfort
here and the truth.

Are they mutually exclusive?

Well, if you want to choose
the pleasure of growth,

prepare yourself for some pain.
Want less pain?

Shrink.

Go.

Be part of the herd.

[plays hard note]

Look at this tree.

It requires stormy weather if it
is to attain its proud height,

eh?

Creativity and discovery,
but begotten in pain.

JOSEF: I wish for
simple things--

to sleep without nightmares,
to live without tension.

Lie down.

Why?

It's the best inducement
for recalling memories.

Lie down, please.

Close your eyes.

[faint thunder]

Let us imagine an
icy mountain peak.

[music playing]

And we see this little
man trudging to the top.

[earth trembling]

He's looking into the
horror of his existence.

He's encoutering
time's devouring jaws.

[thunder claps]

This is too much,
his insignificance--

this mere little
speck that he is.

[harsh thunder clap]

And now his fear so raw that
he welcomes lust into his mind.

And he stops looking into
this chasm and he begins just

spending his time recollecting
these miracles as how

his little cripple
Bertha moves her legs,

hers lips, and her arms--

[music playing]

--and her breasts.

And his mind, which was built
for the noblest of ideas,

becomes clogged now with trash.

And that was how he is today.

He's just rummaging through
the rubbish of Bertha,

as if it contained the
answer to his prayers.

Well, what do you
think of this man?

Josef, open your eyes.

Open your eyes.

Talk to me, Josef.

This is my way.

Where is yours?

[piano being played]

He asked you to
lie on the couch?

Why?

He said it was the best
way for recalling memories.

Interesting.

JOSEF: He is honoring
his contract,

but offers no support.

My confessions have failed
to produce even the slightest

admission of his own obsession.

Is your frustration rooted
in your competition with him?

Not at all.

I'm a physician, Siggy.

I do not meet with my
patient for my pleasure.

But Josef, I've
read his books.

He has more penetrating
knowledge of mankind

than any other person.

I think he may be, perhaps,
the greatest psychologist who

has ever lived.

We can best help him by
letting him help you.

[nietzsche playing piano]

LOU: [non-english singing]

[hard note played]

[singing fades]

[HEAVY RAIN AND THUNDER
CLAPPING]

Josef?

[thunder claps]

Josef, it's after midnight.

Are you coming to bed?

Soon.

[music playing]

[thunder claps]

[fire roars]

WOMAN: [DISTANT
VOICE] Dr. Breuer!

Dr. Breuer!

Dr. Breuer.

[sobbing]

Where is my wife?

Your wife is in the house!

Mathilda!

[fire roars]

[desperate coughing]

Mathilda!

MATHILDA: You will always
be dominating my life.

Always.

You will never regret it, Josef.

Never.

You will never regret it, Josef.

Never.

[ship horn blows]

[rumbling]

I feel healthy.

I wish to waste none
of our precious time

on these physical exams.

Hm?

Um-- before we begin,
the last time we met,

you called me Josef.

[sighs]

I like that.

Should we use first names?

Ah.

Friedrich or--

Fritz.

Friedrich.

My best friend at school
was called Friedrich.

He used to call me the
lad of infinite promise.

What happened to the lad?

He became a successful
doctor, and respected, and rich.

Then you have
fulfilled your goals.

You are-- you are satisfied?

I have fulfilled
my goals, yes.

Am I satisfied?

No.

How did you choose your goals?

Now, don't-- don't think,
just chimney-sweep.

Hm.

Goals are part of my culture.

They're in the air.

You breathe them in.

Like every young Jewish
boy, I wanted to climb

out of the ghetto, to succeed.

My father was the great
teacher of my life.

No, Papa.

No, Josef.

I won't encourage bad habits.

No, I never chose goals.

They was just there, like--

like an accident.

And, yet, not to take
possession of your goals

is just that.

Let your life be an accident.

What is wrong, Josef?

I've had a sudden
and very painful

understanding of the obvious.

Time is irreversible.

The sands of my life
are running out.

I'm in lockstep with all people
marching towards my death.

So you see clear
vision as a wound, hm?

Knowing that, as my death
approaches, I'm impotent

and insignificant-- yes.

That does not mean
existence has no purpose.

On the contrary.

As death creeps closer, the
value of life increases.

You must learn to
say yes, Josef,

but say yes to every
minute of life, huh.

Be passionate.

Be a free-thinking spirit.

Rise above your limitations.

Be the Ubermensch.

Hm?

Please.

Please, Fraulein,
will you take a seat?

The Russian is here.

Let her wait.

[clocking chiming]

Good afternoon, Frau Pettik.

Please, take a seat.

Herr Schubert, hello.

Please take a seat.

The doctor will be
with you shortly.

Please understand.
I'm very sorry.

Please.

The doctor [inaudible].

[thud]

[clock ticking]

Frau Pettik, the
doctor can see you now.

[clocking chiming]

What a pleasure.

I had forgotten.

Then look more
carefully this time.

I'm distressed at having
so little time to offer you.

The price of
success, Dr. Breuer.

You like to live dangerously.

Tell me, why didn't you
write so that I could

arrange a proper time for you?

I am concerned
about our patient.

Our patient?

Have you graduated from medical
school since our last meeting?

You must read these
letters Nietzsche sent me.

He writes as if to punish me.

"You are a woman without
sensitivity or spirit,

incapable of love.

A predator clothed
as a house cat."

Why does he regard
me as such a monster?

I deserve to know the
outcome of my efforts.

The outcome of
your experiment.

It's been lovely to see you,
but I must return to my work.

Where is he?

I cannot tell
you where he stays

or the state of his condition.

You turn your back to me.

I cannot violate
my patient's privacy.

[door slams shut]

[clinking]

FREUD: Perhaps you are not
capable of being hypnotized.

Perhaps.

I didn't tell you, she left some
of Nietzsche's letters with me.

Hm.

And?

He berates me for feeding
at the trough of lust.

And all the while, he
himself, just like me,

is rummaging through the
trash of his own mind.

If you think he
should be answerable

for his falsifications, may
I remind you of your own.

Of the deceptive premise of
your arrangement with him.

Of the two patients
in this relationship,

I have become the
more urgent case.

[music playing]

[inaudible]

What are you doing, soldier?

Trying to kill myself, sir.

Carry on, soldier.

Yes, sir.

[clicking]

General, help me, please.

[gun shot]

[thud]

[groaning]

[gun shot]

[thud]

The interesting thing
is that, in my dream,

the general was you.

NIETZSCHE: Hm.

But why me?

JOSEF: [sighs]

The symbol of your unwillingness
to join me in a down-to-earth

manner, perhaps?

Be open with me.

I presume that, like
all men, you have

suffered from lovesickness?

Have you ever tasted
the pain of love?

Yes.

And?

I must know.

Let me remind you
of Goethe's words.

"Be a man."

Hm.

"Do not follow
me, but yourself."

Teaching philosophy and
using it in the real world

are very different undertakings.

You wish for something
to soothe you now?

Then go.

Suckle on the tit
of superstition, Hm?

Whatever you do, don't
go through reason.

Unfortunately, the
theatrical director

of my mind, the one who stages
all these scenes with Bertha,

is unaffected by reason.

Of course not.

What reasonable man could
love such a cripple.

Oh, stop it!

Bertha is intelligent,
beautiful, and loving.

Loving, how?

She tried to seduce
you into adultery.

Almost destroyed you.

You are too hard on her.

Well, next time
you go to her, don't

forget to bring your whip.

Yes.

I think to love such a
woman is to hate life.

Bertha is a fine woman.

May I remind you, she became ill
because of her father's death?

And may I remind
you, all fathers die?

I think the time
for excuses is over.

[laughter]

BERTHA [VOICEOVER]:
You will always

be the only man in my life.

JOSEF [VOICEOVER]:
Friedrich, I need your help.

Attack my obsession.

It's ruining me!

Do you want war?

Yes.

You will follow my
directives without question.

Absolutely.

Sit.

Please.

Close your eyes.

Imagine your life with Bertha.

But I don't want to!

Please, Josef.

Relax.

Now, you're starting your day.

You're having your breakfast
with Anna O. I want you

to compose a list
of 10 insults, and I

want you to hurl them at her.

To her face?

Yes.

What, like, "ugly"?

Precisely.

Ugly, yes.

Ugly.

Scream it out!

Ugly!

Stupid!

Cow!

Whore!

Sow!

Cross-eyed!

Monster!

Cripple!

That's nine.

One more.

Idiot!

Good.

How is she responding?

I love you.

Banish the tranquil
idea you've composed.

See Bertha as she would
be, now, each morning.

Spasms.

Her arms and legs in spasms.

Cross-eyed and mute.

Hallucinating.

Suffering.

[groaning]

[screaming]

See her as the infant
she longs to revert to.

[baby rattle noise]

[crying]

See her as an adult,
sitting on the toilet,

as she does each day.

[straining]

Hi, Josef.

[flatulence]

Ah.

If you are alone and
you begin to think of her,

shout "Go away.

I hate you!" as loud as you can.

You pinch yourself
as hard as you can.

Say it.

Go away!

NIETZSCHE: Pinch yourself.
- [groaning]

Pinch yourself.

Pinch yourself as
hard as you can.

Go away!

I hate you!

Josef, listen to me.

If you're ever alone and you
even begin to think about her,

you shout "Go away.

I hate you." as loud as you can.

Say it.
I hate you.

- I hate you!
- I hate you.

I hate you!

I hate you

I hate you!

NIETZSCHE: Louder!

Say it.

I hate you.

Say it.

Josef, if you're ever alone,
you even begin to think of her,

you shout "Go away.

I hate you." as loud as you can.

Say it.

As loud as you can.
Say it.

I hate you.

Go away!

I hate you!

BERTHA [VOICEOVER]: I love you.

Go away!

I hate you!

[horse whinnies]

FISHMAN: Whoa.

What are we
waiting for, Fishman?

FISHMAN: Hey, hut.

[suspenseful music]

Hm.

Your heart is strong, but
mine is close to bursting.

After yesterday, I feel like
a bear being trained to dance.

It's true.

I've lowered you, and myself.

And the teacher should
be a raiser of men, hm?

We are missing something.

Yes.

We've neglected to
understand the meaning

behind your obsession.

But how can we discover
the meaning of something

that I myself have concealed?

By talking about it.

What would your life be
if there was no Bertha?

A life without Bertha
would be a colorless one.

Everything would be decided.

This medical bag,
these black clothes.

I'm a scientist, yet
science has no color.

I need passion!

I need magic!

That's what Bertha represents.

Life without passion,
without mystery?

Who can live such a life?

But he's expecting me.

You're lured to mystery.

You're lured to danger.

But I hate danger.

I live my life safely.

Living safe is
what's dangerous.

Living safely is dangerous?

Nietzsche.

There is no Professor
Nietzsche here.

Check again.

There is no Professor
Nietzsche here.

[exciting music]

Perhaps Bertha
represents my desire

to escape my deadly safe life.

The trap of time.

NIETZSCHE: Time is
our burden, Josef.

The greatest challenge is
to live in spite of it.

[exciting music]

I hate women with lips.

Why do you show me this?

JOSEF: Because she
has a combination

of lips, eyes, and
breasts that give

her almost superhuman powers.

Powers to do what?

When I'm with
her, I feel that I'm

in the center of an
orderly, tranquil universe.

An intensely beautiful place
where there are no questions

about life or purpose.

Like walking on clouds.

NIETZSCHE: Where do
your thoughts go now?

JOSEF: Her eyes, they glisten.

She doesn't speak,
yet she talks to me.

And what does she say?

She says, "Josef,
you are adorable."

And in that moment, I am.

When she told me one day
that she had dreamed of us

making love, I was ecstatic.

What a victory.

To enter a place where
no man has ever been.

Have you ever known
a Bertha, Frederich?

Friedrich?

[sighs]

I once knew a woman who
could not be denied, yes.

Well, tell me more
about this woman.

What is her name?

Do you still love her?

We are more in love with
desire than the desired.

[music - carmen, "habanera"]

[non-english singing]

JOSEF: Siggy.

These sessions
with Nietzsche have

become the center of my day.

Why?

The relief of disclosure.

Perhaps in 50 years
this talking cure might

develop into a precise science.

I thought I could help him.

No longer.

He has everything to offer me.

I'm wondering if part of
this talking cure process

involves learning
that the patient

transfers to his doctor.

Shh.

JOSEF [VOICEOVER]: What would it
be to live as Nietzsche lives?

No house.

No obligations.

No wife.

No responsibilities.

[slow piano music]

LOU [VOICEOVER]:
"Goodbye, my dear Lou.

I won't see you again.

You've caused damage.

You've done harm.

And not only to me, but to
all people who loved me."

NIETZSCHE [VOICEOVER]: And
this sword hangs over you.

But I hope you will make
good too Paul Ree what

you couldn't make good to me.

[piano notes]

NIETZSCHE: Yes!

[tapping]

You make music sick.

Wake up.

You are sick!

You are sick!

[MUSIC - WAGNER, "RIDE OF THE
VALKYRIES"]

NIETZSCHE [VOICEOVER]: Wagner.

The first requiems.

You made music sick!

You tyrant.

You tyrant!

You antisemite!

I hate you!

I hate you!

[breathing heavily]

[grunting]

Wagner, you made music sick!

[grunting]

Fritz?

Fritz?

Fritz, look at me.

Talk to my animals.

Fritz!

[grunting]

[slow music]

JOSEF [VOICEOVER]: I visit my
parents' grave once a month.

Would you like to
come with me today?

It's less than one hour's
ride from the city.

Why didn't you tell me your
mother's name was Bertha?

She died when I was three.

I have very few memories of her.

No conscious memories.

Are you're suggesting
I love Bertha because she

and my mother share
the same name?

[thunder]

My mother is hardly real to me.

Bertha Pappenheim is the
most real thing in my life.

I think your
obsession with Bertha

has never been about Bertha.

A year after my father
died, I had a dream.

This grave opens, and
my father rises up,

and he runs to this church.

It's where he preached.

And he grabbed this
small child, and he

climbed back into the grave.

I always believed
that this dream

projected my brother's death,
but I suspect it was my own.

It was my own fear.

I was that boy in
my father's arms.

The same fear is expressed in
your dream, where you plunge

towards the closed coffin.

Who was inside
the coffin, Josef?

I don't remember.

Who was the one who stops
you from falling to your death?

Your cripple, Bertha?

Or perhaps your mother,
the real Bertha.

Who, Josef?

Who is inside the coffin?

I can still see her face.

She's smiling at me.

Hm.

Your mother?

How could she leave me?

[breath wavering]

I never really let her go.

Perhaps adult figures
enter a child's mind

and refuse to leave.

But you must be as frightened as
I am of death and godlessness.

We must die, but
at the right time.

Death only loses its terror when
one has consummated one's life.

Have you consummated your life?

I have achieved a great deal.

But have you lived your life?

Or have you been lived by it?

Do you stand outside
your life, grieving

for some life that you--

you never lived?

I cannot change my life.

I have my family, my
patients, students.

It's too late.

I cannot tell you how
to live differently.

If I did, you'd still be
living by some other's design.

But perhaps I could
give you a gift, Josef.

Maybe I could give
you a thought.

What if some demon were to say
to you that this life as you

now live it, and have
lived in the past,

you would have to live once
more but innumerable times more.

There will be nothing new in it.

Every pain, every
joy, every unutterly

small or great thing in your
life would just return to you.

The same succession, same
sequence, again and again,

like an hourglass of time.

Imagine infinity.

Consider the possibility
that every action you choose,

Josef, you choose for all time.

Then all unlived life
would remain inside you,

unlived throughout eternity.

Do you like this idea?

Do you hate it?

Which?

I hate it.

Why?

The only thing I love
about my life is the thought

[chuckling] that I have
fulfilled my duties

to my wife and children.

Duty?

Your duty is a sham, Josef.

It's the curtain
you hide behind.

To truly build your children,
you build yourself first.

And as for your wife, let her
break out from this prison

your share, huh,
and be broken by it.

Huh?

FREUD: Are you sure about this?

To continue with the
sense that I have not lived,

that I have not tasted freedom.

The idea fills me with horror.

Help me, Siggy.

[crickets chirping]

[indistinct chatter]

Fly!

Fly!

Fly!

You're free!

You're free!

And you too are free.

MATHILDA: Free them?

This is madness.

Suddenly I find that I am old.

I am facing death without
having lived my life.

Since when is there
your life and my life?

We made of covenant
to share our lives.

Leave if you want.

But not until I tell you about
the cruel joke of freedom.

I wish I had your freedom.

Freedom of a man to
obtain an education,

to choose a profession.

I wish I had the vocabulary,
the logic to express

just how foolish you sound.

Mathilda, if I am
able to find my life,

we will both be better off.

Perhaps I will come back to this
life, but it must be my choice!

Have you forgotten about the
choice you made in marrying me?

What choices does a
deserted wife have?

You are young,
rich, attractive!

You will be as free as I am.

But we have three children.

Mathilda, I should have
been "I" before I became "we"!

Word.
Word.

Words, Josef!

You cannot live in words.

I choose my life too, Josef.

And I choose to
tell you, you cannot

return to this house because
it will no longer be your home.

Once you leave, I will
no longer be your wife.

[sobbing]

Mama.

[crying]

Shh.

Say goodbye to your
father, children.

Forever.

Please, Papa, don't leave.

JOSEF: [crying]

Get out then.

Leave, if that's what you want.

Robert, I'm still your father.

No, you're not
my father anymore.

Robert.

[crying]

Goodbye, my little chickens.

MATHILDA: [crying]

I only have one life!

[dog barking]

[indistinct chatter]

[conductor calling]

[whistle blowing]

[train chugging]

[train horn blowing]

[door bell rings]

JOSEF [VOICEOVER]:
Nietzsche is right.

My freedom has been here
all along for the taking.

Now is my last chance.

This is my one and only life.

I'm looking for
Bertha Pappenheim.

She's in the
garden with a doctor.

Should I inform
her you are here?

No, thank you.

I shall wait.

Please, wait for her upstairs.

Thank you.

[indistinct chatter]

[birds chirping]

[hooves clopping]

I love you.

You will always be the
only man in my life.

[gasping]

[clatter]

Josef.

How are you?

[coughing]

[church bell chiming]

[dog barks]

[train noises]

DAUGHTER: Papa, don't leave.

NIETZSCHE [VOICEOVER]:
Having doubts, Josef?

JOSEF [VOICEOVER]: How could
I have given up everything?

NIETZSCHE [VOICEOVER]:
You'd given up everything

long before you met me.

Yes, but now I have nothing.

NIETZSCHE [VOICEOVER]:
But nothing is everything.

In order to grow strong, you
must first sink your roots deep

into nothingness, but learn to
face your loneliest loneliness.

JOSEF [VOICEOVER]: My wife.

My children.

How could I have left them?

NIETZSCHE [VOICEOVER]:
You must be ready to burn

yourself in your own flame.

How could you become new if you
would not first become ashes?

[train horn blowing]

[MUSIC - ROSSINI, "BARBER OF
SEVILLE - LARGO AL FACTOTUM"]

[non-english singing]

[laughter]

[clatter]

Waiter.

Josef?

Dr. Breuer?

[clatter]

FREUD: Josef.

Josef, where are you going?

What a ridiculous man.

FREUD: Josef, come back!

Josef!

[grunting]

Josef!

Ah!

Josef, look out!

Josef!

Josef, come back!

[splash]

Josef!

Josef!

[splash]

JOSEF: [gasping]

FREUD: Josef.

Josef, listen to me.

Nine, eight, seven, six,
five, four, three, two, one.

[breathing heavily]

You're wide awake now.

Where am I?

Where am I?

Everything's all right, Josef.

Siggy, what's happening to me?

You are in your house.

It will all come back to you.

I did exactly as you
instructed, hypnotized you,

using your watch as a pendulum.

Here it is, Josef, on your desk.

Yes.

Yes.

Yes, I remember.

How long was I under?

Nearly an hour.

Oh.

FREUD: You wept.

You looked frightened.

I asked you if you
wanted to stop.

Now I know what it would
be like to live differently.

Max and Rachel have
arrived for dinner.

Mathilda, you complain
you don't see enough of me.

Yet, when I'm here,
you want to desert me?

I've been away, my
dear, but now I am back.

I'm glad you're here.

Dr. Freud, my husband
needs a doctor.

To your health, my boy.

And to you, Max.

Very well.

[laughter]

Cheers.

Cheers, young man.

[laughing]

[blows]

JOSEF: Oh.

[whistles]

Mm.

Ha ha.

My boy, my boy.

Excuse me.

[crying]

Hm.

Have I made you cry?

[sniffling]

It's a good cry.

It's sad too, when I
think how long it's been.

Marry me, Mathilda.

Please.

[sobbing]

I think we did
this 15 years ago.

And I choose to
do it again, today,

and every day for the
rest of our lives.

NIETZSCHE: So, tell me,
how did you cast her out?

Well, I was terrified
by aging and death.

I fought back, but blindly.

In desperation, I
attacked my wife

and sought rescue in the arms of
one who had no rescue to give.

[seagull squawking]

NIETZSCHE: In a certain sense,
I've betrayed you, Josef.

I have been so
dishonest with you.

Completely.

I was myself involved with
a woman a few months ago.

Her name was Lou.

Not so unlike your Bertha.

Beautiful girl.

I fell in love.

She just appeared to be my--

my twin brain, my soul's mate.

And she led me on
to believe that I

was the man to whom she was
destined, and I believed her.

And when I offered
myself to her,

she spurned me in favor of
my best friend in the world.

[thunder]

I must tell you,
Josef, there is not--

not one day that goes by, not
even an hour, where I do not

think of that woman.

She is your Bertha.

But you see, you've been
doing double work here.

Yours and mine.

I'm like the most
cowardly of women,

aren't I, crouched
behind your back

here, letting you face all
your dangers all alone?

You have courage.

Friedrich, there is
something I must tell you.

- Dr. Breuer?
- How do you do?

You must read these letters
Nietzsche has sent me.

These are my private letters.

You did see here then?

Yes, but I refused her.

So all of this
was just a pretense.

I made a promise to help you.

I never betrayed that promise.

What did she do?

She took you by the
arm, told you she had

to spend more time with you?

[papers rustling]

I shared one, one holy
moment with her at Lake Orta.

The only holy moment
I have ever known.

No one fell in
love with me, ever.

Ever.

Friedrich, it may
have been a holy moment

for you, but not for her.

What are you saying?

She never mentioned Lake Orta?

No.

[slow piano music]

I feel such a loss.

Hm.

I don't know.

I think I've lost Lou, and you.

Everything I lose.

How you could extrude
Bertha from your mind,

and you have a family.

You have your family,
and I have my pretenses.

My secret little ways of
tolerating my aloneness.

But I glorify it, don't I?

And I just don't
want to die alone.

I don't want my body just to
be discovered by its stench.

Lou softened that fear
for me for a while.

But you're right.

It's such an illusion.

Friedrich.

Such an illusion.

Friedrich, she
does care about you.

She went to extremes
to help you.

If your tears had a
voice, what with they say?

I feel so ashamed.

Tell me.

My tears would
say, "We're free.

You never let us out, until
Dr. Breuer opened the gate."

[sobbing]

[chuckling]

And what about the
sadness behind those tears?

No, it's not sadness.

It's such a relief.

It's such a relief.

[gulps]

It's the first time I'm
revealing my loneliness.

It's melting, Josef.

It's melting away.

JOSEF: The paradox.

Isolation exists
only in isolation.

Once shared, it evaporates.

My dear friend.

We are friends.

I like saying that.

[sobbing]

No one ever said this to me.

I like it.

We are friends.

JOSEF: Friedrich.

It's good.

JOSEF: Stay with us tonight.

Have supper with
me and my family.

No.

It would be to abandon
my mission, Josef.

It's time we went our ways.

"We were friends and have
become strangers to each other.

This is as it ought to be.

We do not want either to
conceal or obscure the fact,

as if we had to
be ashamed of it.

We are two ships, each of which
has its goal at its course."

[sniffs]

[clears throat]

And, finally, Dr.
Breuer, "We have

to become strangers
to one another

because it's the law to
which we are subject."

Have a safe journey,
my dear friend.

[MUSIC - BRAHMS,
"REQUIEM - SELIG SIND,

DIE DA LEID TRAGEN"]

[non-english singing]