All language subtitles for The.Sacrifice.1986.REMASTERED.BDRip.x264-PHOBOS

THE SACRIFICE

Come here and give
me a hand, my boy!

Once upon a time, long ago,

an old monk lived in
an orthodox monastery.

His name was Pamve.

And once he planted a barren
tree on a mountainside,

just like this.

Then he told his young pupil,

a monk named Ioann Kolov,

that he should water the tree
each day until it came to life.

Put a few stones there, will you?

Anyway, early every morning,

Ioann filled a dipper
with water and went out.

He climbed up the mountain
and watered the withered tree,

and in the evening when
darkness had fallen,

he returned to the monastery.

He did this for three years.

And one fine day, he climbed
up the mountain and saw,

that the whole tree was
covered with blossoms!

Say what you will, but a method,
a system, has its virtues.

You know, sometimes

I say to myself,
if every single day,

at exactly the same
stroke of the clock,

one were to perform
the same single act,

like a ritual,

unchanging, systematic,
every day at the same time,

the world would be changed.

Yes, something would change.

It would have to.

One could wake up in
the morning, let's say,

get up at exactly seven,

go to the bathroom,

pour a glass of water from the tap,

and flush it down
the toilet. Only that!

I'll be hard to get rid of today!

- Beautiful, eh?
- Like Japanese Ikebana.

I will come to your
house to wish you well,

on your birthday. I am very
honored by the invitation!

Here's the last of it.

The post office is closed.

Anyone who turns up now will just
have to wait till tomorrow. Here!

I don't have my glasses.
Please read it!

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY
DEAR FRIEND STOP,

MIGHTY RICHARD GREETS
GOOD PRINCE MYSCHKIN STOP,

GOD GRANT YOU JOY
HEALTH AND PEACE STOP,

FROM YOUR LOYAL AND LOVING,

RICHARDIANS AND
IDIOTISTS STOP",

Oh, how touching!

A joke.

Friends, and their jokes!

"Idiotists …"
That's not half bad.

"God grant you joy …" Say,
how is your relation to God?

Non-existent, I'm afraid.
What d'you mean?

It could be worse.

Here you are …

a famous journalist,

a theatrical and literary critic,

who lectures on aesthetics for
students at the university.

Hey, your lasso!
Run and fetch it!

And essays …

you write them, too.

But you're so gloomy!

What's that supposed
to mean, "gloomy"?

Well, you shouldn't
grieve so much.

You shouldn't yearn
so for something.

You shouldn't be waiting
like that. That's important.

One shouldn't be
waiting for something.

"Shouldn't be waiting"? Who
says I'm waiting for anything?

We all are …
waiting for something!

Take me, for example.

All my life I've been going
around waiting for something.

All my life, in fact,
I've felt as if …

as if I were waiting
in a railway station.

And I've always felt as if …

as if the living I've done, so far,
hasn't actually been real life,

but a long wait for it …

a long wait for
something real,

something important!
What about you?

Yes, if that's what you mean.

I just never knew you were
interested in that kind of problem.

But I am! I most certainly am!
Unfortunately.

Sometimes I get
the most peculiar notions.

Yes, I mean it.

Like that dwarf, for example.

That notorious dwarf!

What dwarf?

Look here, you've managed
to muddle me up completely!

Oh, you know who I mean!
That hunchback!

Eh? The one Nietzsche mentioned.

The one who made Zarathustra faint.

Faint? What are you talking about?

I say, do you know Nietzsche?

No, not personally.

I haven't really studied
him all that carefully.

However …

he interests me, I can't deny it.

So?

Sometimes I get silly things
in my head, things like,

like this "eternal rotation".

We live, we have our ups and downs.

We hope.

We wait for something.

We hope, we lose hope,
we move closer to death.

Finally, we die,

and are born again. But
we remember nothing.

And everything begins
again, from scratch.

Not literally the same way,

just a wee, wee bit different.

But it's still so hopeless …

and we don't know why.

Yes …

No, I mean!

Really, it's quite the same,

literally, the same,

Just the next performance,
so to speak.

If I'd made it all, I guess I'd
have done things the same way.

Funny, eh?

But I've heard all that, it's
nothing new. You didn't invent it!

Do you really think that mankind
could devise a universal concept,

a model, so to speak,

of Absolute Law, of Absolute Truth?

Why, it'd be like trying
to create a new universe!

To be a demiurge!

And you actually believe in your
dwarf, do you? In your "rotation"?

Yes …

Sometimes I do …

You understand?

If I truly believe,

it will be so.

"Believe that it hath been given
and it shall be given unto you.",

But now I think I'll head home.
It's late, I must think of a gift.

You needn't do that.

This is a very important day!

You'll be buried in telegrams!

Au revoir!

What are you mumbling about?

In the beginning was the Word.

But you are mute, mute as a fish.

A little smelt!

Look here, my boy,
we've lost our way.

Humanity is also on the wrong
road, a dangerous road.

So, up you go! Dear,
how heavy you are.

The first impression
that Man had was fear …

How has he been lately? All right?

Yes.

In what way? He works a lot.

I don't like his monologues.

Alexander!

Doctor! Wait, we'll come to you!

You're not equipped for
a jaunt through Africa!

It's quite a job, y'know!

- Hello.
- Hello! Welcome!

- Many happy returns!
- Thanks, thanks!

And you, young man, how are you?

Isn't it hard to keep silent?

I can well imagine.
But it's good for you.

Sociability is a burden.
Not all of us can bear it.

- My brave boy!
- Why "my"? He's "ours", after all.

He gargles and goes
to bed by himself.

Gargles? That's nothing!

Think how well he behaved
during the operation!

He's got the makings of a real man!

Open wide, now!

It looks fine. Keep that up
and you'll be talking in a week.

By the way, did you know,

that Gandhi had one day in the
week when he spoke to no one?

- It was his system.
- Why?

He was probably tired of people.

Shall we walk here?

You've deserted your patients.

And what elegance!

On a day like this, one has
to live up to expectations!

Your present's in the boot.

Still more presents!

- It's time we went home.
- Yes, all of us.

But why don't you two take
the car, we'll follow on foot.

We must finish our chat.
Right, my boy?

Please don't be too late.

Alright, Little Man?

Everything's almost ready.

Have I told you how your mother
and I found this place?

We came here on a trip, once.
You weren't even thought of then.

It was the first time we were here.

We had no map with us,
we forgot to bring one.

Besides, we'd run out of petrol.

We stopped somewhere near here,
then we kept going on foot.

Frankly, we were lost.

Then it started raining,
a cold, ugly drizzle.

We came to that bend over there,
by that dry old pine tree,

and just then, the sun came out.

It stopped raining.

The light was dazzling!
Then we saw the house.

Suddenly I was sad that I didn't …

I mean, that we didn't live there,

in that house under the pines,
so close to the sea.

How beautiful it was!

I knew that if I lived there,
I'd be happy until I died.

Hm? What's wrong?
Don't be afraid.

There is no such thing as death.

No, there's the fear of death,
and that is an awful fear.

Sometimes it even makes people
do things they shouldn't.

But how different things would be,

if only we could stop fearing death!

Huh? Oh, I was talking about
something else … Ah yes.

As I was saying, we were enchanted
as we took in the beauty of it.

We couldn't tear ourselves away.

The peace, the stillness …

And …

it was plain that this house,

was meant just for us.

It turned out to be for sale, too.
What a miracle!

And you were born in this house.

Do you like it?

Do you like it, your house?
Eh, my boy?

Man has defended himself, always,

against other men, against Nature.

He has constantly violated Nature.

The result is a civilization built
on force, power, fear, dependence.

All our "technical progress",

has only provided us with
comfort, a sort of standard.

And instruments of violence for
keeping power. We are like savages!

We use the microscope like a cudgel!

No, that's wrong …

savages are more spiritual than we!

As soon as we make a
scientific breakthrough,

we put it to use in
the service of evil.

And as for standard, some
wise man once said that sin,

is that which is unnecessary.

If that is so, then our
entire civilization,

is built on sin, from
beginning to end.

We have acquired a
dreadful disharmony,

an imbalance, if you will,

between our material and
our spiritual development.

Our culture is defective.

I mean, our civilization.
Basically defective, my boy!

Perhaps you mean that we
ought to study the problem,

and look for a solution together.

Perhaps we could, if it wasn't
so late. Altogether too late.

God, how weary I am of this talk!

"Words, words, words!",

At last I know what Hamlet meant.

He was fed up with windbags.

And so am I! Why do I talk this way?

If only someone could stop talking,

and DO something instead!

Or at least, try to.

Little Man!

Little Man!

Dear God, what's wrong with me?

Fantastic!

Such remarkable refinement!

Such wisdom and spirituality!

And too, such pure
child like innocence.

At once profound, yet virginal.

It's unbelievable!

Like a prayer.

And all this has been lost.
We can't even pray any longer.

I had a rotten day today.

Or rather, a day I lost control of.

Thank you, Victor.

A splendid book!

Thanks for the wine too.
We'll have it later.

Above all, thanks for coming!

Have you …

never felt that your
life was a failure?

No. Why?

I once felt exactly that way.

But since Little Man came
along, all that has changed.

Not all at once, of course.

A bit at the time
as he grew bigger.

I'm very attached to him,

too much, I'm afraid.

But there is something in
all this that I resent.

I prepared myself for a life,

a higher life, so to speak.

I studied philosophy, the history
of religion, aesthetics.

And I ended up putting
myself in chains,

of my own free will.

But at the same time, I'm happy.

Today, for example …

What happened today?

I got a telegram from my friends.

As a joke they signed it:,

"Richardians and Idiotists".

Old theatre-friends. We played
Shakespeare and Dostoyevsky.

- I remember!
- No!

- Remember what?
- Those performances.

- Oh, come now!
- Yes, I do!

I remember how you dropped that
vase from the tray and broke it!

And your eyes were full of tears.

I remember it well.

The vase, too. It was white,
with blue flowers.

That's right! She does remember!

But those tears meant nothing.
I had something in my eye.

It hurt so, I didn't think I'd
get through the performance.

Alexander was superb
as Prince Myschkin.

That role "made" you!

And then you just gave it all up.

The theatre, the lot!

You threw away everything after
Richard III and The Idiot.

I don't know why.

- What "everything"?
- Hm?

What d'you mean by "everything"?

The theatre.

Everything!

"Success", that's what you mean!

As it happens,
theatre isn't "everything"!

I couldn't take it any more.

What d'you mean?

Well …

For some reason, I started
feeling embarrassed onstage.

I was ashamed to impersonate someone
else, to play other's emotions.

But worst of all, I was ashamed
of being honest onstage.

It was a critic who first saw that.

But it wasn't sudden, not at all.

So you mean that an actor may
not keep his ego intact?

That he must lose his identity?

No, not quite.

What I mean is that an actor's
identity dissolves in his roles.

I didn't want my ego dissolved.

There was something in it
that struck me as sinful,

something feminine and weak.

Aha! Feminine!
So that's what's sinful!

I liked you as an actor,
so you quit. That's it!

- I don't know. That might be it.
- No, that "was" it!

I said it might be.

- Always the last word!
- She'll be his death!

Please, not today!

It's Alexander's birthday!

Thanks for defending me, Victor.

In other words, first he
seduced me with his acting.

Then he lured me from
London and abandoned me!

But I liked being
the great actor's wife.

Forgive me, but I saw no harm in it!

Who's that, now?

By the way, Alexander,
I'll soon be leaving.

Leaving?

Leaving all this.

Has something happened?

I've been offered
a clinic in Australia.

Are you serious?

You must tell me about it later.

It's Otto, the postman.
He's carrying something!

Julia! Your beau's come calling!

Good evening!

- Many happy returns!
- Thanks.

Here I am, and here's
a kind of present for you.

Thank you very much! What is it?

I don't think I can do this alone.

It's a map of Europe,
from the late 1600's.

Is it genuine?

How could it be? It must
be a copy, a reproduction.

No, not at all!
It's genuine, an original!

- How could anyone …
- Is it possible?

How beautiful it is! We must
take it inside. Come, now!

But it's far too dear a gift.
I don't know if I …

Oh God, don't say that!

But it's far too much!
Too much, Otto!

I know it's no sacrifice, but …

And why shouldn't it be?
Of course it's a sacrifice!

Every gift involves a sacrifice.

If not, what kind of
gift would it be?

Excuse me …

Otto. My name is Otto.

Oh.

Excuse me, Otto.

What are you doing in these parts?

I hear you haven't lived here long.

Smoke?

Once I went to the morgue and
saw the autopsied corpse …

of a man who had smoked all
his life. I saw his lungs.

I haven't smoked since.

Hear that, Alexander?

Yes, you're completely right.

I've only lived here two months.

Before then, I taught history
at a secondary school.

But when I was pensioned,
I moved here.

And here I am.

Nowadays I have fewer expenses,
and more time over for my interests.

My sister used to live here.
She's dead now.

I understand you're employed
by the post office.

Yes, I'm a postman.

But not regularly.
Only in my spare time.

Hello, Maria!

I've put everything in order,
Mrs. Adelaide. Can I go now?

Yes, yes, Maria. Thank you.

Oh, yes! Do you think you
might just warm the plates?

Julia can do the rest.

Yes, Mrs. Adelaide.

I'll put the plates to warm at once.

I'll warm the plates. Then can
I go? Is there something more?

No, no! You may go.

Julia's still here.

Oh, one more thing!

Would you put the
candles on the table?

Then you may go … You have
opened the wine, haven't you?

Well, open it.

Then you won't be needed.

The plates, the candles, the wine.

We're neighbours, she and I.

We're acquainted.

Indeed? Congratulations.

She came from Iceland
a few years ago.

Really?

- She is very odd.
- Who?

Maria.

Yes, Maria.

Sometimes she scares me.

It must've been lovely when men
thought the world looked like this!

This Europe looks more like Mars.

That is, it has nothing
to do with truth.

No! But people lived then!

And not badly, either.

But wait, what's the date …

… today?

1392 …

It's best we put the map away now.

Otto, will you help me?

I have a feeling that our maps have
nothing to do with truth, either.

What truth?

You keep going on about truth.

- Truth! What is truth?
- There's no such thing!

We look, but don't see.
Here comes a cockroach …

A cockroach!?

Par exemple, madame!
Excusez-moi!

Here comes a cockroach
running 'round a plate.

He fancies that he's moving
forward with a definite purpose.

How d'you know what
a cockroach thinks?

It could be a ritual.

- Yes!
- His own.

Aha. "Could be.",

Anything could be.

"Could be"!

Otherwise all we're left with
is this "truth", "truth".

- Can I help?
- No, that's fine.

Let's put it there, Otto.

A fantastic map!

I'm glad you think so.
It's a first-class chart.

Where's Little Man?
Where's the boy?

I don't know. He was
here just a moment ago.

- Shall I look?
- No, no.

He seemed down, to me.

- Something wrong?
- I'll be right back.

Dinner's ready.

You said you had more time
for your interests …

What'd you mean?

Huh?

Take it easy.

He's around here.

- I'm sort of a collector.
- Are you?

What d'you mean "sort of"?

How shall I put it?
I collect incidents.

Things that are
unexplainable but true.

I need a lot of time, though, to
gather evidence that they're true.

I need to travel, too,
and I need money for it.

That's why I'm a postman … as well.

Unexplainable?

Little Man should be here.
He loves stories like this.

Does he, indeed?

But still … I don't
really understand.

Well, for example …

No, not that one!

How about this one …

It happened before the war.

In Königsberg, a widow
was living with her son.

But then war broke out, and the boy
was drafted. He was 18 years old.

The decided to see a photographer
and have a keepsake photo taken.

The mother and her son were
photographed together.

Then the boy …

the boy was sent off …

to the front.

A few days later, he was killed.

Good Lord!

In the midst
of all the commotion and calamity,

the widow, of course,
forgot about the photos.

"Of course"? Why, how could
she forget such a thing?

- It's not important.
- No, it's not very important at all.

The fact is, this woman never
fetched the photographs.

The war ended. She moved to
another town far from her memories.

But didn't she even try
to find the photographer?

It was her last photo of her son!

But do let him make his point!

Sorry.

- Mummy …!
- I'll be quiet. Sorry!

It doesn't matter.

Some years later …

I think it was in 1960 …

the widow visited a photographer,

to have her own photo taken. She
intended to give it to a friend.

The photo was taken, but
when she got the prints,

she saw not only herself on them,

but her dead son, too.

In the photos, he was 18,

and she was as old as she was
when these last photos were taken.

Did it happen like that?

Just as you told us?

Yes. That's how it happened.

How did you check it?

I've spoken with the woman.

And I have the photo,

showing her in 1960 and
her son in a 1940 uniform.

Oh, dear God!

And besides …

I have a copy of his
birth certificate,

and an official copy of
the notice of death.

Are you pulling our leg?

No, by no means!

I have about 300 similar incidents.

284, to be exact.

We are blind, simply.

We see nothing.

What was that? What d'you think?

Are you ill?

No …

nothing's wrong.

It was only an evil angel passing
by, who saw fit to touch me.

And you see fit to joke
with us, eh? Mr. Postman?

There are jokes and JOKES, Doctor.

There's nothing to joke about here.

Maria!

Who made that?

Little Man.

Little Man, really?

- Where is he?
- He's upstairs.

I think he's in his room.

That's good.

But what is it?

He made it for you.

It's his birthday present to you.

It was he and Otto, the Postman,
who built it together.

Don't say
that I told you, Mr. Alexander.

He wanted to show it off himself.

I'll go now.

Congratulations!

Go home now! It's so damp out.

- May I come in?
- Yes, come in!

Oh, it's you. Come in!

Things are almost ready downstairs.

What on earth's that?

What's what?

The picture, there.

On the wall. What is it?

I can't see it clearly.
It's behind a glass. And it's so dark.

It's the ADORATION
OF THE THREE KINGS,

by Leonardo.

A reproduction, of course.

My God, how sinister it is!

I've always been terrified
of Leonardo.

… are now being
organized nationwide …

This is even the duty of
all officers of the army.

Every responsible citizen …

is expected to behave
with courage …

to keep a cool head …

And to help the army …

in its efforts to
re-establish peace,

order, and discipline.

The only dangerous enemy
in our midst at the moment,

is panic.

It is contagious,

and won't allow itself to
be ruled by common sense.

Order and organization …

and nothing less, good Citizens!

Only order … order …

against this chaos.

I beg you, I humbly appeal,

to your courage and …

in spite of all …

to your common sense.

Shall we eat? And wake the boy?

We have here, unfortunately …

such a base, with four
missile-warheads …

And it is very likely …

that these warheads,
tragically enough …

What's this?

… will be used against us.

Communications may be
broken at any time …

but I have told you what
is most important …

… my fellow citizens.

You are to stay where you are.

There is no lace in all of Europe,

that is safer,

than where we are now.

In this regard,

we are all forced into
the same situation.

All districts will
be under the control,

of special military units …

so that … so that …

Surely this isn't …!

Shouldn't one do something?

I've waited for this all my life.

My whole life has been
one long wait, for this!

Don't touch me! Do something!

You men!

Why don't you say something?

Can't we do something?

Mama, please calm down!

My God!

Victor!

At least you could do something!
Please!

Ssh! The boy is asleep.

He mustn't be awakened!

It's all my fault!
This is my punishment!

Ssh, the boy's sleeping.

Don't wake him.

Little Man! Where is he?

Julia! Go get Little Man!

Alexander, don't you
even understand?

Julia!

Fetch the black bag by the piano!

Maybe later.

Oh, God!

Put it on the table!

Alexander!

I can't bear it anymore!

Please, please!

Julia, do you need one, too?

No, I don't want it!
It's not necessary.

Yes, it is.

It's absolutely necessary.

And it's completely harmless.

It will be easier for
all of us if you take it.

No! I don't want to!

- And you, Alexander?
- No, I'll have a drink instead.

Just don't drink too much.

It'll only make it worse.

Otto?

Oh no, don't worry.

Thanks, but I don't need it.

Julia!

We must go up to the boy.
He's not to wake up now!

I'll go with you.

Julia can stay with Mama.

Sleep now, sleep.
We'll be right back.

It's dead.

The telephone's dead.

Oh, Dear God …

Why do we always do
the opposite of what we want?

Always!

I have loved one man …

and married another.

Why?

Would you like something to drink?

No, no!

Nothing! Thanks, Otto.

No.

I think I know, now.

We simply don't want
to depend on anyone.

When two people love each other,

they don't love in the same way.

One of them is strong,
the other, weaker.

And the weaker is always the one
who loves without reckoning …

without reservation.

It feels now as if I've awakened,

from some kind of dream …

after some other kind of life.

For some reason, I always
offered resistance.

I fought against something.

I defended myself,

just as though I'd had …

someone else inside me, saying:,

Don't give in to anything …

don't go along with …

anything …

… or you'll die!

But God, how foolish
we are anyway!

That's good.

It's good that you
finally understood that.

How d'you feel?

- Better now?
- Yes.

I've finally understood,
even though it's a bit late.

But what shall we do now?

The telephone isn't working, of course.

We could get
into the car and drive north,

where it's quieter …

But it's no use.

No. It's the same everywhere.

And no one knows where it's worst.

No, no! We'll stay here!

There, there …

Easy, easy …

We won't go anywhere!

We're staying here!

Victor!

And now …

Now we shall eat dinner!

Excuse me, but I must go now.

I have a few things
to put in order.

What will you do, Martha?

Julia.

Go wake Little Man!

Today is a very special day.

- We must be together.
- Please stop it!

Julia,

did you hear me?

- It's best not to wake him.
- Julia!

I'm not going to wake him!

I have no intention of it!

And I won't allow anyone
else to, either!

He's asleep now, and
we mustn't wake him,

or frighten him.

A lot can happen
while he's sleeping.

If God will, he'll never
know what's happened.

Don't scare him!

Please, I beg you!

If you have to torture someone,
let it be Mr. Alexander!

Or me, for that matter!

Choose whom you will, since
you can't do otherwise!

But I will not allow you
to torture the boy!

My dear girl …

My poor, dear girl …

Forgive me!

Our Father, who …

Our Father, who art in Heaven …

hallowed be Thy Name.

Thy Kingdom come …

Thy will be done …

Give us this day our daily bread …

And deliver us from evil.

For Thine is the Kingdom …

and the Power …

and the Glory.

Amen.

Lord!

Deliver us in this terrible time.

Don't let my children die,

nor my friends …

my wife …

Victor …

all those who love Thee
and believe in Thee …

All those who do not believe in
Thee, because they are blind …

those who haven't
given Thee a thought …

simply because they haven't
yet been truly miserable.

All those who in this hour have
lost their hope, their future …

their lives …

and the opportunity to
surrender to Thy will.

All those who are filled with dread,

who feel the End coming closer …

who fear, not for themselves,
but for their loved ones.

All those whom no one,

except Thou, can offer protection.

Because this war is
the ultimate war,

a horrible thing.

And after it, there will be
no victors and no vanquished …

no cities or towns,
grass or trees,

water in the wells,

or birds in the sky.

I will give Thee all I have.

I'll give up my family, whom I love.

I'll destroy my home,

and give up Little Man.

I'll be mute, and never speak
another word to anyone.

I will relinquish everything
that binds me to life …

if only Thou dost restore
everything as it was before …

as it was this morning
and yesterday,

Just let me be rid of …

this deadly …

sickening, animal fear!

Yes, everything!

Lord!

Help me …

I will do everything
I have promised Thee.

Come here, Victor!

Help me!

My boy!

- What is it?
- Sorry to get you up.

- Were you asleep?
- What is it? What's happened?

There's still one last chance!

A chance? What kind of chance?

A chance! One last hope!

What kind of hope!
What's the matter with you?

Nothing's the matter with me.
But Maria can do it! Maria!

Maria?

Which Maria? Do what?

You must go to her
and convince her.

Do you understand?

Where must I go?

Whom must I convince?

Come in, have a drink.
I had one and I feel better.

There's no light anymore.

How long have I slept?

You shouldn't drink
that by the glassful.

It's very good cognac, that!

Where is everybody?

Are they sleeping?

They're downstairs, sitting
'round the table.

- They're very fond of you.
- Sitting 'round what table?

You must go to Maria at once!

Which Maria?

Can't you express
yourself more clearly?

Maria, you know her!
One of your servant-girls.

Yes, yes, yes!

I'll explain later.

Don't rush me!

Who's rushing you, for God's sake!

Why do you always have
to beat about the bush.

She lives …

on a farm on the other
side of the bay.

Behind the church.

It's closed now.

Who?

"Who"?

I'm not talking about "who".
I mean the church.

But I asked who lives there.

What's the church got
to do with it?

Who lives there?
Why, Maria, of course.

Your servant. I've been trying to
tell you that for half an hour!

Can't you pay more attention!

This is very important!

Pay attention? I …

I know where she lives.
My wife showed me.

Oh, I think that … I …

Yes, it's quite alright.

It's alright, believe me.

I'll sit here by you.

What was it you said
about the servant?

Oh, yes, your servant-girl …

- Did you hear?
- Hear what?

What was that?

I don't know … I don't know.

I thought it sounded like music.

In any case, you must go to Maria!

But why?

Don't you want all of this
to be over and done with?

For what to be done with?

Everything!

The whole lot!

God, Otto!

There is an end to this!
Otto!

Yes!

You must go to Maria
and lie with her.

What?

I say, you must go
and lie with Maria!

Lie with Maria?

It's very simple. She lives alone.

And if you only wish for
one thing at that moment:,

That all this will be over,
then it will be!

There'll be no more of it!

But that's madness, Otto!

Good God, Otto!

You don't understand a thing!

It's true!

It's a holy truth.

She has very special
qualities, y'know.

I've gathered evidence.
She is a witch!

In what sense?

In the best sense!

Are you joking again?

Still having me on with
your Nietzschean pranks?

Is there any other way out?

There is no other alternative.

None, whatsoever!

What alternative, Otto? What alternative?
What are you talking about?

It's best if I go now.

I've left the bike for you …

down there by the shed.

Don't take the car,
they'll hear you.

I've put a ladder
against the balcony.

Go to Maria …

but be careful!

There are a couple of broken
spokes in the front wheel.

I once caught my pants-leg in them.

I almost fell in the water.

- What pants-leg?
- The right one.

Be careful!

Have you finally understood
what I told you?

Do you hear what I'm saying?

Yes, what about it?

No … Never!

Anyway, I prefer
Piero della Francesca!

As I understood Alexander's
words, he meant,

that it is peculiar for a man,

to change, of his own free
will, into a work of art.

Generally, the result
of all poetic striving,

lies so far from its author
that one can hardly believe,

that it is a man-made creation.

In the case of the actor,
though, the reverse is true.

The actor is, himself, his own
creation, his own work of art.

Excuse me.

- I'll be right back.
- Don't stay long!

How much gas have we left?
Will it last?

I don't know. I'll see.

They brought new tanks last
week. Don't you remember?

Julia! Come here to us!

- Who is it?
- It's me.

Mr. Alexander?

Has something happened?

But why stand there? Come in!

It was only by chance
that I heard you knock.

The kerosene gave out,
so I got up to fill the lamp.

Has something happened?

Why don't you say anything?

What is it?
Is it something at home?

Something's happened
at your house again.

Is that it?

But don't you …

don't you have a TV?

Yes, a small one. But …

it went dead about 11:00,
and didn't come on again.

What …

What's happened to your hands?

I fell off the bike.

Did you come on a bike?

Yes, I did. I fell.

Come!

You mustn't go about
with dirty hands.

Thank you!

You're welcome.

As a child, I played this prélude.

My mother loved it.

Years ago,
before I was married,

I often went to visit my mother …
in the country.

She was still alive in those days.

Her house,
a little cottage,

was surrounded by a garden …

a little garden,

dreadfully neglected and overgrown.

No one had tended it for many years,

and I don't think …

anyone had ever been in it.

Even then, my mother was very ill.

She almost never left the house.

Still,

amidst the ruin of the garden,

there was something that
was, in its way, beautiful.

Yes, now I know what it was.

When the weather was fine …

she often sat at the window …

looking out at the garden. She even
had a special chair by the window.

Once, though, I decided that
I would tidy things up …

in the garden, that is.

I wanted to mow the grass, burn
the weeds, prune the trees.

On the whole,

I wanted to re-do the garden
in my own taste …

with my own hands.

Yes, simply to please my mother.

And for two
solid weeks …

I went at it with
shears and a scythe.

I dug …

and cut …

and sawed …

and weeded …

I kept my nose to
the ground, literally.

And I took great pains to get
it ready as soon as possible.

My mother's condition grew worse,

and she kept to her bed.

But I wanted her to be able …

to sit by the window,

and see …

her new garden.

In short,

when I was finished
and everything was ready …

I took a bath …

put on fresh underwear,
a new jacket, even a tie.

Then I sat down in the chair
to see what I'd made,

through her eyes, as it were.

I …

I sat there …

and looked out through the window.

I had prepared myself
to enjoy the sight.

Anyway, I looked out
the window and saw …

What did I see?

Where had all the beauty gone?

The naturalness of it?

It was so disgusting.

All that evidence of violence!

I remember once when
my sister was young.

She went to a barber and had her
hair cut. It was the fashion then.

Her hair was unbelievably lovely.

Golden-yellow, like Lady Godiva's.

She came home pleased as a punch.

Then my father saw her.

He began to cry.

I think it was the same
with the garden.

And your mother?

It's three o'clock!

We won't have time …

But your mother …
did she see it?

Maria …

My being here must be
an imposition on you.

You can't sleep.

What do you mean?

What do you mean?

Could you …

Could you love me, Maria?

What are you saying?

Love me, I beg you!

Save me!

Save us all!

I know who you are.
He … he told me!

Please, please!

Save us, I beg you!

What are you talking about?

Go home now.

Do you want me to go with you?

I … I have a bicycle, too.

Don't kill us.

Save us, Maria!

But why?

You poor, poor man!

Why? No, not that way!

You poor man.

Don't be afraid.
What's wrong?

Who has frightened you so?
Calm down, calm down.

I understand, I know …

that it concerns your home.

I know her, she is wicked.

I know her. They've hurt you …

frightened you.

Don't be afraid of anything.

Everything's going to be all right.

Be calm.

Don't be afraid, not of anything.

It's all right now, all right.

You poor, poor man!

There, there.

There's nothing to fear.

Don't be afraid.

Nothing will happen to you here.

Don't cry, don't cry.

Everything will be fine.

- Just love me.
- Yes.

My poor dear.

What have they done to you?

There, there …

No … no.

What is it?

- Calm down!
- No, no!

I c-c-can't!

I can't!

Drink this.

No.

There …

It'll soon be over.

What's frightened
you so, Alexander?

Mama!

- Hello?
- Hello, is it Martin?

Yes. Alexander?

Yes, it's me!

Your voice is so weak.

- Oh! Better now?
- Yes, it's better.

I wonder, is the editor in?

Yes, but I don't think he's free.

You can't imagine what
things are like here today.

You were to see him next week.

Yes, but it wasn't important.
A trifle … it doesn't matter.

- I'll call back.
- Alright, until then.

- By the way, congratulations!
- On what?

Oh, of course!

Mama, did you know that our
Victor is leaving for Australia?

What'd you say? To Australia?

Yes, and he's not coming back.
He's been offered his own clinic.

I heard it last night.

Right, Victor?

- Why're you laughing?
- I'm not laughing!

When did you decide that?

Australia!

You must be mad!

I don't know why I chose Australia.

I don't know.

It doesn't matter.

I'm tired, that's all.

All right! But what's
to become of us?

Of Alexander?

The fact is, what I'm most
tired of is the lot of you.

Tired of being your nursemaid.

Your nursemaid and your warden.

Tired of wiping your noses.

Victor, are you mad?

- Pardon!
- What are you saying?

May I smoke?

Martha, go away!
Go, go, go!

Go, go, go!

God, Mama. I'm not a child!

Call your father to breakfast!

- But …
- Is it too much to ask?!

Alright, I'll go.

Oh, her ways!

So calculating!

I won't let you go, Victor!

I don't know about Mama,
but I won't let you go!

Something's wrong here
and I'm fed up with it.

Yes. You can forget about me,
and Martha, and the boy …

But Alexander is your friend!

He'll always be.

But he needs you!

He has a wife to take
care of him.

She ought to, anyway.

He has a family, a splendid house …

- and a son he adores.
- Fine and dandy!

Julia!

Fetch your mistress'
jacket! She's cold!

So thoughtful!

Little Man! Where is he?

Look, he's left this note!

What's it say?

"My dears: I've slept badly this
night. Please don't wake me.

Go and take a little walk.

The boy'll show you his 'Japanese
tree' that we planted yesterday.

Or was it today? I don't
remember, it matters not.

I kiss you all.

I've taken my pills.
Forgive me, even now.

June 19, 1985.

10:07 a.m. Papa A.",

Shall we take a walk,
before the weather changes?

"Forgive me, even now"…
what did he mean by that?

And why the exact time?

Mama, you know how he is.

"How 'he' is …",

I think that 'his' kindness,

would be enough
to see us all through.

But he'll be around longer than that.

"How 'he' is …"!

What'd I say wrong?

Have you enough kindness
over for 'him'?

Alright, Victor.
But why must he be such a child?

Maybe I want to be a child as well!

We all want something.
I, for one, want to go to Australia.

Well, gather the ashes.

Put them in a glass, fill
it with wine, and drink it.

- Why?
- Don't ask me.

Someone said so.

If you do, you'll remember
this the rest of your life.

Come, let's go.

Julia, come with us!

Fetch the boy and we'll go.

I had a dream lately.

I was walking the streets, begging.

When I woke, I cried and cried.

The boy's not there!

He's already gone out.

I think I know where.

To the Japanese tree?

He and the boy are just
crazy about their Japan.

Why just Japan?

First it's Australia, then Japan.

God, I can't take much more of this!

What about this morning?
I turned on his music …

But he didn't fancy his Japanese.
He shut it off.

He says he and the boy were
Japanese in an earlier life.

I wish someone would tell him
what to make of "this" life.

Maybe that springs from
a deep inner need.

Maybe it's easier for him so.

Why can't I find an easier way?

Can't you?

You seem to have all sorts
of schemes to that end.

But nothing quite so
far-fetched as Australia.

My God, what is all
that nonsense about?

Australia! It's absurd!

Flowers!

I don't understand.

What've I done with them.
Where are they?

Alexander!

What's happened?

I did it. Don't be upset!
Listen to me, Victor.

I've got something very impor …

No! Silence!

Say nothing! Ask nothing!

Come, Alexander!
You can't stay here!

Come, now.

Let him be!
What are you doing to him?

Don't touch him!

See you, Alexander!

In the beginning was the Word.

Why is that, Papa?

This film is dedicated
to my son Andriosha,

with hope and confidence

Andrei Tarkovsky