All language subtitles for Twice.A.Woman.1979.720p.WEBRip.x264.AAC-[YTS.MX]

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- Would they still be as beautiful

if they weren't so precious, so expensive?

- It didn't occur to
me they were expensive.

- Do you live in Amsterdam?

- I wish I did.

- Where do you live?

- In Petten.

- With your parents?

- Yes.

- What's your name?

- Sylvia.

- What do you do, Sylvia?

- I'm a hairdresser in Bergen-aan-Zee.

- Your father, what does he do?

- That's for him to answer.

He's in charge of the Petten sea wall.

- It's really beautiful there, isn't it?

- Oh, yes, marvelous,

as long as you don't have to live there.

- Where are we heading?

- I don't know, you tell me.

- Do you have anything special to do?

- No, I didn't bother to work today.

- Would you like to have
a drink at my place?

- Okay.

- I warn you, though,
I'm not a great talker.

- Me, either.

You have a lot of beautiful things.

- Thank you.

- What's his name?

- Gogol, he's a genius.

- Would you like to roll one?

- I don't know if I still remember how.

- Here, I'll take it.

Do you do this often, just
pick up a girl on the street?

- You won't believe it,
but this is the first time.

- Are you married or something?

- I was married.

- Have you ever been to bed with a girl?

- No.

- Why not?

- Never occurred to me.

And you?

- Oh, yes.

- And men?

- Provided they're nice.

Let's go to bed.

How about some music?

Would you like me to fix your hair?

It's full of split ends.

- Mm-hm.

- You know, I almost never take a day off.

It's as if I knew.

You look pretty.

- Sylvia, come and stay with me.

- Do you really want me to?

- Mm-hm.

- Okay.

To tell the truth, I'm
not even a hairdresser.

I just said that to make an impression.

I have a lousy job at a boring office.

I have a boyfriend.

- What?

- That's what I'll tell my father.

I met a student, and now
I'm moving in with him.

- And if he asks you about this student?

- Let's make him your son.

- And what are we going
to call this son of mine?

- Thomas?

Thomas.

- Thomas.

- Thomas.
- Thomas.

So my fiance is Thomas Steenberghe.

It's a nice name.

- Madame Petrovska, there
is telephone for you.

- Please, Mr. Rublioff,
will you ask them if they

can call me back in an hour?

- But Madame, the young
lady said it was urgent.

- I'll take it in my office.

Hello?

- I put all my
things outside the door,

but I can't get in.

- I didn't
expect you until tonight.

- Well, I'm here now.

- Okay, I'm coming, bye.

Mr. Rublioff, I'm leaving early!

Don't worry, it's nothing
serious, it's my niece visiting.

She's on my doorstep.

- Dasvidaniya, Madame Petrovska.

- See you in the morning.

- Let's open the door.

- How did it go with your parents?

- Eh, easy.

- What did they say?

- Oh, it doesn't matter.

My father also says I have to find a job.

He's worried about Thomas's position.

Why don't you hang this up?

I got it from my first boyfriend so.

- I'll put it down here.

- Put down?

- I set it down.

- What are you talking about?

It has to hang.

Don't you like the Rococo?

Come on, give me a hand.

It needs to go higher.

- Well, I don't have
anything to hang it up with

so why don't we put it
away until we need it?

- Are you silly?

I brought everything with me.

- Albert!

- Look at them.

It would be funny if it wasn't so sad.

- That can put the car out of action.

- Can you put the car out of action?

- Phillips!

- You know with men sometimes

they have to be in control, make rules.

That's why they make so
much fuss about everything.

- I bet you've had a lot
of experience with men.

- Take it easy, sir.

- I had one around the
house for seven years.

- He showed up, and then--

- That must have been your husband.

- Mm-hm.

- Yes I can,
brown with a bowler hat.

- I see, and can you describe the car?

- Car?

That was the car.

- You know, there is a saying,

a woman without a man is like
a fish without a bicycle.

- Do you see that?

It's the car with the trunk.

- Which animal
do you want to be beside?

- A bird.

- Why a bird?

- Because they
predict the future.

- I see.

That's it.

- Do you want your picture here too?

- No, I don't want to know the future.

- What about an owl?

They're very wise, they predict the past.

- Okay.

But there don't seem to be any owls.

- Okay.

That's very nice.

Now wait, hold it.

Slow down.

No, don't move.

Don't move.

Oh, how do you like this?

- Hmm.

Here, over here.

How many pictures are left?

- Eh, three.

- These guys don't move.

- They were here long before the zoo.

- Now the two of us.

Could you take our picture, please?

It's very simple, just
press the button, okay?

Now I want one with you, okay?

Come on.

Thanks.

Come on, give it to me.

I really want it.
- Oh, you're silly.

Come in.

- Madame Petrovska, here's
Mr. Bloch to see you.

- Alfred?

Ask him to come in.

Please, can you take that away?

- Hello, Laura, how are things with you?

- Great, and you?

- Good.

A little busy with all the
new plays to cover, you know.

We haven't seen each other for awhile.

- Why should we?

- How's your mother?

- Not so well.

She's been ill for a couple of months.

She's back now in Nice, in a home.

- You still go to visit her?

- Twice a year.

I'll go there the end of the month.

- Give her my regards.

- I will.

- Tell her I often think of her.

- How thoughtful of you, Alfred.

Is that why you came?

- No.

You know perfectly well why I'm here.

- Why, tell me.

- They say you've become a lesbian.

Is it true?

- If they say that for the
moment I'm living with a girl,

it's true.

- That is what they say.

Is she just a friend?

- Just.

What do you mean, just?

- Well, is she renting a room from you?

- No, it's all free bed and board.

She even gets money.

- How nice, for her.

And how long has this
performance been going on?

- For you, everything is a performance.

She really is an exceptional girl.

What difference does
it make to you, anyway?

Go home to your wife and children.

- How old is she?

- Does it excite you if I say she's 16,

or would you prefer 26?

- It doesn't excite me in the least.

- Mm, I'm not so sure about that.

- I thought she might be exciting you.

- There you happen to be right.

- This doesn't make
sense, you're no lesbian.

- Then don't use the word.

I love one particular
girl, why make a fuss?

You have nothing to blame me for.

I behaved properly all
through our marriage,

and another five years after,

I still lived according to your rules,

doing nothing that wasn't
proper for a wife or an ex-wife.

- But if the woman to whom I've
been married for seven years

suddenly turns out to be a lesbian,

that doesn't leave me indifferent.

- You're just afraid that
people will look at you

and think that because of
you I've had enough of men.

Don't worry, you produced two children.

That makes you some kind of a stud.

- Well, if you're going to start with

that sort of female logic, I'm leaving.

- Do you know what you
can tell your friends?

That after you, not even one single man

could begin to satisfy me.

You're so good at explanations.

- Is it because you
couldn't have children?

- And what about the hard-on?

- Harry takes, take her
out to the foreground.

- We have to use the turd as a basis.

- Oh.

- Because first you have to have it,

'cause all the women don't count.

Then you have to have it again.

If you figure an average
hard-on is about four inches.

- That's much too short!

- No, you have to remember.

- Hi, Mom.

Shut the door!

- I was in town so I thought

why not see if they're at home?

- Thomas is out.

- Oh.

- But he's in a meeting all day,

and we can't go to our room
because it's a complete mess.

- It doesn't matter, child.

- Hello, how are you?

- I'm thirsty, would
you make me a cup of tea?

- Mom, but then you
wouldn't have your favorite.

Everything's covered with sheets.

Why didn't you let me
know you were coming?

Well, maybe you can go to my landlord.

- You mean Thomas's mother?

- Yes.

- Yes?

Mrs. Steenberghe, may
I come in for a second?

- Of course, of course, please come in.

- Mom, this is Mrs.
Steenberghe, Thomas's mother.

- Mrs. Nitard, pleased to meet you.

- Nice to meet you at last.

Won't you sit down?

- Don't you have to go out
to an opening or something?

- No, not yet, I still have some time.

- I'm only staying for a few minutes.

- Would you like to take your coat off?

How about a cup of tea?

- That would be nice.

I even brought you come chocolate eclairs.

I thought maybe Thomas might enjoy them.

Does he like sweets?

- Yes, he's crazy about them.

Shall I save one for him?

- But what about Mrs. Steenberghe?

No, we'll have them now.

- I'll put out the water.

- But you have to go out.

- Oh, would you rather have coffee?

- I'd prefer tea, if you don't mind.

How come your mirror's in here?

- Well, Thomas couldn't stand it,

but Mrs. Steenberghe really liked it,

and she wanted to hang it up.

- Why?

- I don't know,
he just didn't like it.

But we have something else now instead.

It's really nice, he bought it.

- Do you know, Mrs. Steenberghe,

my husband and I are
very happy that Sylvia

has finally settled down.

Until now, she was always so--

- Oh, Mother stop it.

- Let your mother finish, Sylvia.

I like to hear about you.

- She's always been like that.

You're simply not allowed
to talk about her.

- Modest.

- Oh, modest.

- Did Thomas happen to say anything about

what time he'd be home?

It would be nice if my
mother could meet him.

- It's gonna be quite late.

It was some sub-departmental meeting,

Rowe, a professor, doesn't
want to lecture anymore

or something like that.

I don't quite know all the details.

I was under the impression
that Thomas was against him?

- But I thought he was for him.

- Maybe for him.

Anyway, he doesn't study that hard.

- What's he studying?

- Androgogology.

You're not the only one who
doesn't know what that is.

If you ask me, nobody knows.

- As long as Thomas knows.

- What are the prospects
with that kind of study?

My husband's sure to ask me.

- There are a lot of students nowadays.

Anyway, it can always be
mechanic, right, Sylvia?

- He has a Harley Davidson.

- A what?

- A motorcycle, you know, a
big.

- Are you happy with Thomas, Sylvia?

- Yes, of course, otherwise
I wouldn't be here.

- Well, I'm happy for you
that you get along so well.

I've got to go.

You wouldn't happen to
have a picture of Thomas?

- Oh, yes, of course I do.

Um, let me see.

It's just that right now with
the painters in the house.

- Oh, don't bother.

- And the picture from the
zoo, you even took it yourself.

Yeah.

- What a nice boy, and he looks like you.

- He has my ex-husband's eyes.

- It's a pity you can't see
the pants, I took them in.

Good, eh?
- Oh, no.

Now you're fooling me.

She never in her life
wanted to do any sewing.

May I take this picture for my husband?

- Of course.

- Thanks for the hospitality.

Goodbye, Mrs. Steenberghe.

- Goodbye.

- Goodbye, Sylvia.
- Bye, Mom.

- Give Thomas a kiss for me.

- I will.

- Bye.

- Bye, Mom.

Plain sailing, wasn't it?

- Had the idea of the
picture already occurred

to you when we were at the zoo?

- Sure, what do you think?

- You're shrewd.

- Will we get to Nice in
time to go see your mother?

- No, that'll be tomorrow.

- What shall I wear?

I have to make a good impression!

- I'd rather you didn't go.

- What?

- It's better if I go by myself.

- But what about me?

I thought we were a twosome.

- I just can't take you with me.

- Why did I have to go
to France with you then?

- Listen, my mother's very old.

If she were to see me with you,

she couldn't even begin to understand,

just like your mother.

- We don't have to tell her.

We can make up something, like,

I'm your assistant from the museum.

- We'll make up nothing.

That making up of yours is
something I want no part of.

Certainly not when it concerns my mother.

- You're ashamed of me.

- I'm not, you know that,

but you're being very pushy
in a very tiresome way.

- What makes you say that?

- Your mother wasn't supposed to know.

She isn't even old and sick.

- No, but she's stupid,
and that's even worse.

- Your mother isn't that
stupid, she loves you.

You certainly could explain to her.

- You're very cautious
with your own mother.

You didn't mind fooling my mother.

- You made me take part
in that comedy routine,

now I'm only asking you
not to do something.

You're suddenly too rotten to go along.

I was a fool to take you with me.

- You only took me along
to make me miserable.

You certainly enjoy that, rotten bitch.

You finally made me cry.

- I didn't know it meant so much to you.

- I'm going out in Nice.

I'm taking the first train back home.

I never want to see you again.

- Do you want another beer?

- May we join you?

Jason, Madame would like another drink.

What's your name, Miss?

- Laura.

- Laura?

Laura, Paul!

I'm Raul.

What's your favorite drink, Laura?

I'll buy you one.

- Pernod.

- A Pernod, yeah.

Jason, the Pernod--
- Hello, where you come from?

- Je suis de Petten.

- Petten, where is it?

- It's a long way from here.

- You'll think it crazy of
me, but the moment I saw you,

I had the feeling that
we were destined to meet.

- You must be kidding.

- If I was ever serious, it's now.

You know, I can't explain it,

but it is as if I've known you for years.

Don't you feel it, even a little?

- Maybe a tiny little bit.

- You see, these things
are never one-sided.

If the hand fits into the glove,

then the glove fits over the hand.

- Oh, bravo, Raoul!

You can say that again,
but just write it please.

- Ah, you must be thinking that I'm

saying that to every women, but I don't.

To every women, I say something different.

- Mm-hm.
- I can prove it,

but you've got to believe me.
- Mm-hm.

- You've got to have a little faith in me.

- Ah, faith, huh?

- Yes, I know, I know
what you're talking about.

But you're not talking about me, no.

You are thinking about
someone from the past,

but you must forget about it.

A little bit of faith,
that's all I'm asking for.

Hello, the Pernod is okay?

- Pernod is okay.

- See?

Let's go dancing at the
Swing Mediterranean.

Come on.

Oh, come on, little cat.

You feel like dancing?

- Not right now.

- Of course.

- You know, to tell the truth,

I don't really like women who
immediately want to dance.

I don't trust them.

There's always something
the matter with them.

- Ah, come on, now.
- Ah, believe me.

Ah, merci.

I would think that I've
got more experience

with women than you.

- Come on, let's get out of here.

It's much too crowded with all
those people in the lounge.

Don't you think so?

I want to be alone with you,
so that we can talk quietly.

Let's go to my room.

I promise that I won't grab you, I swear.

We don't have to go to bed right away.

We are not in a hurry.

We will go to bed eventually.

Do I have to promise
that I'm not going to bed

with you tonight?

- Now it's our turn.

Come on.

- Wanna dance with me?

- Let's go!

- Oh God.

- Good evening.

- Good evening.

- Madame, can you fill this out please?

- Your daughter doesn't have to.

- I'm not her daughter.

- Oui, Madame.

- There she is.

- So dignified,
is your mother that rich?

- No, she gets my father's pension.

A couple of his books
are still being sold.

Why don't you go swimming and
we meet later at the hotel?

- No, I'll just wait here.

- Hello, Mama.

It's me.

- I was dreaming.

Have you been here long?

Give me a kiss.

- I'm her daughter.

How is she?

- Don't stay too long.

- You look much better than last time.

Are you happy?

Are you seeing someone?

- Mm-hm.

- I'm happy for you.

What's his name?

- Thomas, Thomas Nitard.

- Nitard, Nitard, doesn't ring a bell.

He isn't married, I hope.

How old is he?

- What difference does it make, Mama?

I would love him whether he was 20 or 60.

Now, let's talk about you, hm?

- What's his profession?

- Don't start worrying right away.

Let's say he's, I don't know,

a supervisor somewhere in charge of.

I'm 41 years old, I know what I'm doing.

I'm happy, much happier than with Alfred.

Oh, by the way, Alfred sends his regards.

- Why didn't he come with you?

- Alfred?

- No, your Thomas.

- Please.
- What is his family like?

- Please, Mama.

How do you feel, huh?

Is your leg any better?

- No, it's still hurting.

I can hardly walk anymore.

Sometimes it is so quiet here

I'm feeling I'm all by myself.

- It's beautiful here
with everything in bloom.

The trees are much
greener here than at home.

- Do you know that boy?

- What boy?

- Hey!

That's coincidence.

You also in Nice?

- Hello.

What are you doing here?

Mama, this is Sylvia.

- Sylvia Nitard.

I'm your daughter's neighbor.

She's told me a lot about you.

Your husband was a
professor and he wrote books

that are still being sold.

I'd sure like to read one.

Do you think I would understand?

- Go away!

Go far away!

- Damn it, Mama, no!

I told you I was happy!

Goddammit!

- Go to her.

You must go after her.

- Over my dead body!

- Maybe it's because I said
something about your father.

- Please come, let's go.

Alfred is late, as usual.

- The old guy?

- Lousy!

- Bullshit!

- Is that his wife?

- Yes, Karen.

Now he is saying, "Get me a
bottle of Coke with a straw."

- The famous critic drinks Coke?

What's he's writing now?

- He's writing...

In Greek tragedy, there are
always two opposing truths,

the truth of the gods
and the truth of Man.

- Now he says, "Thank you."

- No, he says, "Be quiet for a second."

- Oh.

- Now he's going to tell
her where we're sitting.

Watch.

He says, "Don't look around,"
and continues writing.

Now she's going to discover us.

She turns around, looks up,

and via the right side
of the balcony her gaze

will accidentally find us.

- It's going to begin.

- Hello.

Hi.

How did you like it?

- I don't know, beautiful I think.

And you?

Did it remind you of us?

- Us?

- Which one of us is in the underwear?

- Oh, that's Alfred.

- Hello.
- Hello.

- This is Sylvia.

- Hello, Sylvia.

- Hello.

- Why don't you take these?

- Thank you.
- Thank you.

- Remember?

- What?
- That music.

- Alfred, where's my wine?

I've been waiting for ages.

Oh, hello, Laura.

- Hello, Karen.

May I introduce Sylvia?
- Sylvia.

- Hello.

- And this is Karen.

Come on, I'll get some more wine.

- Don't forget the babysitter.

I don't want to hang
around here all evening.

Well, I guess we won't be
seeing him for a while tonight.

How have you been?

- Fine.

- You're looking well.

You've done something to your hair?

- No, it's just better taken care of.

I have a new hairdresser.

- He was trying to tell me
what I should say in my review.

Well, how did you like the play?

- Am I supposed to tell you?

- A woman's viewpoint is
invaluable with a play like this.

How did you like it?

- You never ask me my opinion.

- I really don't know
what to think about it.

- Well, if you ask me, Eric
might just as well have

made Orpheus a woman instead
of having a man as Eurydice.

- No, that's not the point.

Eric is the director,
he also wrote the play.

Obviously he has borrowed from antiquity

when women's roles were always
played by men in the theater.

And don't forget in those days true love

was love between men.

Women were nothing but breeding machines,

but all that is so much theorizing.

It's not how you create a play.

Someday I'm going to write
a book about the influence

of classical culture
on the modern theater.

You're father would have understood how

to tackle these things.

- Thank you.

I completely disagree with you,
I thought it was wonderful.

- But it is no tragedy.

In tragedy, you have two opposing truths,

the truth of the gods
and the truth of men.

And the hero is always in
opposition to this thing.

Orpheus gets pulled apart,
Oedipus gouges out his eyes.

- Oh, there he is!

That's the director, my favorite Scotsman!

- I thought he
was a very tardy child.

Does he have a girlfriend, isn't he gay?

- I guess you're the only one who's never

been to bed with him.

- Why'd did he make
such a crazy scene then?

- I'm sure lots of people are
asking that same question.

- Now what were you trying to say

with your comments on tragedy?

- It comes down to this.

There are men and women.

If you try to do a play
with all men or all women

then you can never have a real tragedy.

At best, all kinds of
melodramatic occurrences,

which you can dress up in
all sorts of fancy ways.

What we've just seen.

- Hey, Laurie!

- Oh, hi.

Wonderful.

- It's been too long.

You're back with Alfred?

- God forbid.

- So what did he think about it?

Well, that figures. You
give me a piece of paper,

I could write down exactly
what he's gonna say.

But as for you, only
compliments tonight, huh?

- Immortal masterpiece.

- Oh, at last a woman with taste.

Who's the girl?

- A friend of mine.
- Introduce me.

- Not if my life depended on it.

- I'm going, I'm going out on the balcony.

- May I join you?

Hi.

- Nothing changes.

The critic gets to go on
the balcony with the girl.

The author has to eat in the
kitchen with the servants.

- Good luck.

- See you in 10 years, huh?

- Hi.

- Laura.

- Alfred.

Karen has gone home, she says good night.

- Did she take the car?

- I don't know.

Do you want to stay?

- We can go home.

- You don't want to dance
a bit, like in Nice?

- Did you go to Nice?

How's your mother?

- I gave her your regards.

- Is something the matter with her?

- She is, uh.

- Bye.

See you.

- She's getting old.

- See you, Sylvia.

Bye.

- Bye.

- How come you got divorced from Alfred?

- He has some kind of restless anxiety

if you know what I mean.

I couldn't cope with it on a daily basis.

And then we had no children.

- Whose fault was that?

- Mine.

- Didn't you want children?

- Mmm.

I would have liked nothing better.

I tried everything, but
there's something wrong.

It's an incredible nuisance.

Every month a period again and again.

And a husband who's
dying to have children.

- Is maternity the most
important thing for a woman?

- Of course not.

If you always felt like a daughter,

there's only one way to
get rid of your mother

and that's to become a mother yourself.

- If you ask me, you
don't even like children.

They're just a way of
shaking off your mother.

- If I could have had a baby,

I certainly would have loved it.

- What if they had switched babies?

- What?

- So you had gotten someone else's baby.

- Then I would have
loved that other child.

Men put up with that all the time.

They can never be absolutely
sure it's their own.

They have to take our word for it.

- They're powerless in our hands.

- Look at their nipples.

Our bodies don't have
anything that pitiful.

- Does he like children?

- Who?

Alfred?

I don't know, I think so.

You know, marriage without
children becomes difficult.

They hold you together.

You don't fight that
easily with a child around.

Without them, everything
becomes much more cruel.

You can split up at any moment.

- Like with us?

So you never got to be
completely free of your mother?

Would you like it if I
had a child from you?

- We could adopt a child if you want to.

- That's not what I asked.

Would you like me to have a child?

- Yes, of course.

That's impossible.

- Once when I was 14, I
just walked into the sea.

In the middle of the night.

I don't remember anything
about it, my father told me.

I was completely dressed,
walked out of the house.

I walked straight ahead,
over the dike, into the sea.

Just straight ahead until I
was completely under water.

I could swim, but I didn't.

Some beach comers pulled me out

and gave me artificial respiration.

- Why did you do that?

- I don't know.

- Why are you telling me this?

- I don't know.

- The wood of an icon is covered

with seven layers of chalk on linen.

Then they ply all the gold
and they start painting

with the darker colors
and put all the brighter

and lighter on top of them.

The gold dust is supplied
with a garlic extract.

Something the matter?

This one I brought myself from Cyprus.

But not that one.

That's made by the monks on Mount Athos.

No females are allowed there,
not even female animals.

No milk for the monks.

What's wrong?

Don't you feel well?

- All that gold,
it's really beautiful.

- This is the showpiece of our collection.

The Archangel Michael.

- In Petten, we live
right behind the dike.

From my window, I could
only see a straight line.

As if the horizon were 60 feet away.

And always that damned wind in your face.

Something like this,
it doesn't exist there.

When I was a little girl, I used to think

someday I want to live
where it doesn't blow,

and there are no straight lines.

Do you think that's crazy?

- No.

- Coming here was like being rescued.

That's not why I love you,

but without you I'd still be nowhere.

I love you, you know.

I've never said that to anyone before.

I'll always love you,
you won't forget that?

Even if we fight and you say
the most terrible things to me,

it still has nothing to do
with the fact that I love you.

- Oo hoo!

What are you up to now?

Cleaning again?

- They were dusty.

If you ask me, they've
never been dusted before.

- So what?

- That's not healthy, all that dust.

You can end up allergic.

- Oh really?

- Mm-hmm.

- And why the whole house?

Look, you messed it all up.

I can never find anything.

Shit.

- Every time when I try to
give you a nice surprise

you immediately criticize.

Nothing I do is good.

- I didn't mean it like that.

Listen, are you bored here?

Why don't you try to get a job?

Part-time or something.

- What kind of job, washing hair?

- Well, there are other jobs.

I know a lot of people who could help you

to find something nice.

- You know I can't do anything.

You know I'd rather be kept.

- That's a rotten thing to say!

Now, wait a minute, I want to talk to you.

- I'm not interested in talking.

- No, but I am.

Listen, Sylvia, you've
been strange all week.

It's like you're trying to avoid me.

Maybe you should go away
for a couple of days.

Do you want to go home?

When?

- Now.

- How long?

- I don't know.

- Call me then at the end
of the week, will you?

- Okay.

- Don't forget.
- Ngh-ngh.

- Friday night at dinnertime, okay?

- Okay.

- Promise?
- Yes.

- Dear Mama,

I always wanted to write to you

since we had that horrid scene

in Nice.

- At the first look,
it will be21 and 10.

- Mr. Nitard, I'm Mrs.
Steenberghe from Amsterdam.

- Who?

- Thomas's mother.

I have a message.

- Is something
the matter with Sylvia?

- I thought she was here.

- You mean she's not in Amsterdam?

She isn't here.

Please come in.

Please.

Will you sit down, Ms. Steenberghe?

- Thank you.

- Hey, Ms. Steenberghe.

- Hello.

- Mrs. Steenberghe
thought Sylvia was here.

- No, she isn't.

- Did she go back last night?

- She was here three days ago,

but she went back the same evening.

- Did something happen
between Sylvia and Thomas?

Better tell me straight out.

- Oh no, nothing like that.

Don't worry.

- I understand that, um.

That we are not welcome in Amsterdam.

Sylvia is always afraid that
we will try and run her life.

But I'd like to meet Thomas.

My wife says he's a very nice boy.

- I'm very glad to hear that, Mr. Nitard.

I'm terribly sorry I woke you up so early.

- Oh, you're very
welcome, Ms. Steenberghe.

- Goodbye, Mr. Nitard.
- All right.

- I told him I met Thomas,

otherwise he would have
gone to Amsterdam himself.

He's so old-fashioned.

- I understand.

Goodbye, Mrs. Nitard.

- Goodbye, Mrs. Steenberghe.

- I apologize.

Hello.

I've been waiting for hours for
a very important phone call.

They've probably been trying to get me but

maybe there's something
wrong with my phone.

Could you check it please?

Yes, number 220753.

Thank you.

Yes.

Oh, well.

Thank you.

Sylvia.

Sylvia!

Couldn't even remember that,

you skinny, frigid little bitch!

Karen?

- I have to tell you something.

- Not today.

I'm not in the mood to be told anything.

- Don't worry, I'm going in a minute.

I can't leave the children alone anyway.

- What is it?

- Alfred's left home

with your darling Sylvia.

And I'm stuck with two kids, you're not.

- Do you know where they are?

- Yes, Alfred came
to tell me this morning.

- I would like to see Mr. Bloch.

- Room One, upstairs.

- Where is Sylvia?

- Laura, will you listen?

- Goddammit, where is Sylvia?

Don't touch me.

- Sylvia.

Leave us alone.

Fuck off, I won't harm her!

Sit down.

What's happened to you?

Why are you with Alfred,
in this whorehouse?

It can't end like this.

- Oh please, I do what I want.

- I came to tell you this
afternoon, you weren't home.

- Are you completely mad?
- I want to talk to you.

I want you to understand.

- You want me to understand?

Do you understand what you're doing?

How long?

- You know how long.

- Did you date her on the balcony?

- No.

I phoned the next afternoon.

- So it was your initiative?

- If it had only been me,
it wouldn't have happened.

- And then you met every day?

- No, not every day.

- Went to bed?

- That only happened here.

- So at first there was a
little spiritual loving.

Then last Tuesday she called and told you

that she would leave me
for a couple of days.

- Yes.

- So you came here for a tryout.

- It wasn't like that.

- If it hadn't worked
out, you could have always

invented some theater festival
and she at her parents,

and Karen and I would have
known nothing about it.

- But it did work out.

- Why Sylvia for Christ's
sake, because she's mine?

- No, because she's Sylvia.

- And the children you
wanted so badly, your wife?

You don't know what you're doing.

- I'm staying with Sylvia.

If she wants, I'll divorce Karen.

- Does she want?

- We haven't discussed it yet.

I believe...

We all have the feeling
that we don't belong.

That we have nothing
to do with this world.

That we're only guests.

But we don't want the others to notice.

I think everyone has this feeling.

That's what keeps us together.

But with Sylvia I sense that
she truly doesn't belong

and that scares me, and
I want to hold onto her.

That's it, I think.

After you, she chose me.

I'm going.

- Can I come in?

- From Alfred?

- Yes, lovely, isn't it?

- You're biting your nails again.

Do you want a drink?

- Ngh-ngh.

- Is everything all right?

- Fine.

And you?

- Bad.

But you know that.

- You lost weight.

- You look terrible.

Is everything really all right?

- I came to get my passport.

- Why?

- 'Cause I'm going to Paris.

- With him?

- Yes.

- For how long?

- I don't know, he
doesn't want to stay here.

He's fed up with being a critic

and he's writing a book.

- Finally, the long-awaited book.

And your parents, did you tell them?

- They think Thomas has gotten
a fellowship at the Sorbonne.

- The Sorbonne?

Alfred must have thought that one up.

- No, I did.

- And if your mother happens to drop by

am I supposed to keep up the pretense?

So you can amuse yourself?

- If you want to, otherwise
you'll make a fool of yourself.

- It doesn't make sense.

Why should Alfred go
along with this cheating?

- Because I want it.

- Why do you want it?

So when are you leaving?

- Soon as I have my passport.

- You won't get it.

- Then I'm going.

- It was all arranged, wasn't it?

If I don't give it to you,

you leave immediately for Petten
and get a new one tomorrow.

A day's delay.

- Yes.

- You know you can tell
the police about me?

Leading you astray.

- Yes, but we wouldn't do that.

- How considerate.

Is he waiting outside in his car?

- No.

- So he's sure I can't
reach you anymore, huh?

You know, you've changed.

Here, you're still a child.

- It really hurts me, you know.

I know ladies who'd give almost anything

to have hair like yours.

- Then sell it to them.

- Oh, it's too short to sell,

but maybe you'd like to
keep a piece as a souvenir.

- I never want to see it again.

- Okay.

- You know, just before we left Holland

I saw some play by some female writer

about a man who got married five times.

It all seemed very simple in the play.

With the first wife, it's romantic.

He discovers love, he thinks
that she's the only one

and that it will last forever.

But he expects too much
and it falls apart.

Along comes the second wife.

She pulls him out of his misery.

Doesn't really matter who or what she is.

He needs someone, he
really grabs onto her.

But in the long run he gets bored

when he realizes that he didn't
marry her for what she is,

but only to fill the emptiness.

Third wife.

Finally, he's up to a real relationship.

- You're only my second.

- Your second?

And who was your first?

- Laura.

- I love you.

I never thought I'd ever be able

to love someone so much again.

You like it?

- Mm-hmm.

- Would you really like a
glitter dress like that?

- Do you think I need a dress?

- Are you trying to seduce me, right here?

Is it better than with Laura?

- Leave her out of this.

Come here.

Come closer.

I want a child from you,
I want a child from you.

- Sylvia!

Oh my God.

- Thank you.

You have it?
- That's okay.

- I'm pregnant.

I'm pregnant, isn't that what you wanted?

You wanted a child,
I'm bringing it to you.

You had your hair cut.

Did you save it?

- Alfred's child?

- Yours.

By Alfred.

- Was that your plan from the start?

- Yes.

- Why didn't you tell me?

- As if you would have allowed me.

Why are you whispering?

- I lost my voice, I need to drink.

- You shouldn't leave the door open.

Are you happy?

- Yes.

- Now I'll stay with you forever.

- Of course, I'm happy, very happy.

- Give me that bottle.

- Whoo!

Uh oh.

To our child.

I hope it's a boy, and you?

- I don't know.

- Why are you crying?

- Am I crying?

- You shouldn't cry.

- It's not so easy to
take in just like that.

- Oh come on.

I'm going to unpack.

- Does Alfred know about this?

- I left him a note.

- A note?

- He was at the National
Library this morning

when I got the results.

So I immediately packed my
bags and left him a note

that I was pregnant and that
I was going back to you.

- So you mean this
afternoon he came home and--

- Found the note.

- Sylvia, you are impossible.

- Why impossible?

- You conceive his child
and leave a note for him?

- Why not?

I'm not married to him.

Anyway, I didn't write it was his child,

just that I was pregnant.

I can say that I was
sleeping around in Paris.

It isn't his baby, it's yours.

- We have to call him.

There are lots of problems to discuss.

- Whose side are you on?

- He ran out on a wife
and children for you.

- I didn't force him.

- Why did you leave him a note?

That wasn't very wise. If
you had walked straight out,

he'd have gotten over it
and gone back to Karen.

We would have been left with
just one ordinary little

problem like you and your

fat belly.

- That's him.

Don't answer it.

- Hello?

- Is that you, Laura?

- Yes.

- Is Sylvia there?

- Yes.

- Did she tell you?

- Yes.

- I can hardly hear you,
your voice is so low.

Listen to me, I'm very calm.

We've got to discuss this.

- That's what I told Sylvia.

- I've thought about it for
a long time before I called.

If she wants to go back to
you, I can understand it,

but we've got to talk first.

It is also my child.

- According to Sylvia, that's
not absolutely certain.

- I'll fly up in the morning.

I can be at your house
between 11 and30.

- Good.

- But I want to talk to her, alone, first,

if it's all right with you.

- I thought you'd want to.

- And please, don't
say anything to Karen just yet.

- No.

Do you want to talk to Sylvia?

- Tomorrow.

You go to work as usual.

When you come back for lunch,

the three of us can talk about
it and then I'll go away.

You won't have any trouble from me.

I've put it all behind me.

I know what kind of woman she is.

Till tomorrow.

- He'll be here tomorrow at about 11.

- Is it really necessary?

- Do it for me.

- Go on, come.

How are we going to organize it?

- What?

- The baby's room, where will it be?

- We could use my study.

- Yes, but we've got to have it painted.

And we can put in my crib.

My mother kept it for me all these years.

Where will you work?

- I can use the attic.

Sylvia!

Come here.

Pinch my arm.

I love you so much.

Once when you were gone,

I called you a frigid,
skinny little bitch.

It always took you so long to come.

It used to make me mad.

- Do you hear anything?

Father?

- Nothing scares you.

You have to wake up soon.

I'll be back early.

Museum Zenic-Bergman.

- Laura?

- Yes.

- Laura, something...

Something awful has happened.

- What's happened?

What's wrong?

Alfred?

Hello?

Alfred?

Let me in.

Where is she?

My God.
- Ho!

- You killed my baby!

You killed my baby!