All language subtitles for Riget (1994) - Episode 3_eng

The Kingdom Hospital
rests on ancient marshland

where the bleaching
ponds once lay.

Here the bleachers moistened
their great spans of cloth.

The steam evaporating
from the wet cloth

shrouded the place
in permanent fog.

Centuries later
the hospital was built here.

The bleachers gave way
to doctors and researchers,

the best brains in the nation
and the most perfect technology.

To crown their work they called
the hospital The Kingdom.

Now life was to be charted,
and ignorance and superstition

never to shake
the bastions of science again.

Perhaps their arrogance
became too pronounced,

and their persistent
denial of the spiritual.

For it is as if the cold
and damp have returned.

Tiny signs of fatigue are appearing
in the solid, modern edifice.

No living person knows it yet,
but the gateway to the Kingdom

is opening once again.

A Foreign Body

Hello! Now your car
is as good as new.

I ordered the repair
of my Volvo 850 GLT

and delivery to
my private parking bay.

Your bay has been abolished.
Danish crap.

Where are the cones
that mark my parking bay?

The red plastic ones.

Pull up in front of that Golf.

Where is my parking bay?
My plastic cones?

Are they yours?
Yes.

I talked to the boss.
Nobody has private parking bays.

Anyway it was in a stupid place.
Where the ambulances pull up.

The ambulances
can drive round it.

Two have had real bother.
Made in Sweden. See?

Where's your boss?
Nobody touches my cones.

You're in luck.
What?

My boss is here today.
But he's in conference.

Cash on the nail, please.

Sweet Jesus ... Dear God ...

Man ...

12 October, 00.35 hours.
This is ambulance wagon 12.

We're heading down Lyngby Road
towards the Kingdom ...

13 October, 00.35 hours.

This is ambulance wagon 12.

We're heading down Lyngby Road
towards the Kingdom ...

And so on.

Cracks in the building.
Practical jokes.

Of course we've tried
to trace the calls.

Bulder has an idea of
where they are coming from.

Have I?

You said you thought you knew.
Excellent. Where?

Bulder doesn't want
to falsely accuse anyone.

Couldn't you
call him on his radio?

Next time they call in?
Anything.

FOUND
... key to locker B.023 ...

This is it. Your locker, right?
Yes.

Have you lost your key?

No.

That's lucky.

Or it wouldn't be a safe
place to keep the you-know-what.

I don't. It's been stolen.
What am I to do?

If Bondo gets his fingers on it ...
That's what it means!

The Key to your Head.

Whoever's taken it wants to meet
you at lift lobby 7 in the basement.

Well, I don't want to meet him.

Anyway,
I bet he's already told Bondo.

Why would he have
put this up then?

Where is lift lobby 7?

Why did you say I knew?

Can't you see?

They must be connected
with the ambulance

Hansen mentioned.
That's where the calls come from.

At last we'll get something out of
the 78 driving lessons you hand.

Fill up the tank.
Tonight we're going for a ride!

Mummy!

We are all here today
Apart from one of us

We are all here today
Apart from one of us

Here is ...

Hook

and Rigmor

and Judith

and ... Helmer

And ...

Helmer ...

Helmer ...

Sorry ... You are closing
your mind to all this, Stig.

Crossed arms are
your body language.

Your way of saying "Don't get
too close". Perhaps you're right.

After all, you're from
a completely different culture.

I'm merely trying to bring out a
bit of esprit de corps in all of us.

I realise it may be hard
for Helmer to join in,

Helmer,
the hardest worker of us all.

Have any of you seen
the Gazette this morning?

Splendid, Stig, no less.

Impressive research.
You should have submitted it

to the Lancet ... How you find
the time and energy! I'm impressed.

Perhaps Dr. Helmer could explain
the drip he gave Mrs. Drusse?

It would be nice to know
the consultant's plans ...

What do you mean by that?
I didn't admit Mrs. Drusse,

the entire Danish
medical profession did.

I presume that the Danish
medical profession has a plan.

If not, then I have to decide.
Send her to otology.

Otology? Why? There's no
indication that she cannot hear.

Initially, in a
friendly tone of voice,

and then in a powerfully
exaggerated tone of voice

I screamed at Mrs. Drusse,
"STAY IN BED, DAMN YOU!"

But she very clearly did not hear me.
So send the old cow to otology.

She's as deaf as a post.

Now the larum of the living
will be silent in this room.

I invoke a spirit.

Are you here, Mary?

I know you are here,
for you have something to tell me.

If you're here, Mary,
reveal your presence.

I have lit a candle for you.

I have heard you crying in the lift.

Now I ask you,
"Were you locked away?"

Blow the flame if you mean yes.

Were you crying because
you'd been locked away?

No? Did you cry
because your chest hurt?

No ...

But you do have a chest disease,
don't you?

No?

Now you are confusing me.

Did you cry because
someone had hurt you?

Who? Who made you cry?

Someone from your family?

Why won't you let me talk to Mary?

I ask the other spirit
in the room to leave us.

Why don't you want
me to talk to Mary?

Mary? Mary? Are you there?

Are you still here?

It's important at
present for our department

to make a positive impression.
Operation Morning Breeze, etc. ...

Don't you also feel things
are running more smoothly now?

I got the pictures
from the children's ward.

We have to seek out
the positive things.

I think I've found a solution
to Professor Bondo's problem.

Oh? He will be pleased,
he and the rest of the brethren.

I mean, it's magnifique.
Isn't that what you people say?

Have we time to tell him?

Oh, no!

Mona!

That pompous Swede!

Your work, your results,
are what he's written about.

It's just not the one thing.
Maybe in Sweden, but not here.

I'd like to see that Mona report.
I know he committed an error.

My name is mentioned in the article.

Mentioned?
You keep getting cheated.

That Aage bloke cheated you, too.

He made no promises.

And he was really very nice.
Want to see him?

Not specially.

I'll keep those.

There is a time to remember,
and a time to forget.

Do you feel
how my tummy has grown?

Yes, enormously.
Big bloke, was he?

I've already forgotten.

I'm having a scan today.
Want to come?

Of course.

What the hell are you doing?
I made contact.

She revealed her presence.

But somebody wanted to stop her.

She said she wasn't ill.
That's very odd.

Maybe she just didn't know.

Maybe it's time to
talk to Professor Bondo.

What, do you know him, too?
Not exactly "know".

I had a well-documented
relationship with his father

in 1944.
It was thoroughly reported

in the Messenger that Easter.

They didn't have much
to write about that year.

I met his son then,
a boy of very little brain.

You never told me.
What became of him?

He died, and I haven't
heard from him since.

But he was quite a bit my senior,
and a real charlatan.

Where are we going?
To ear, nose and throat.

Otology!
Well, why not?

Have we time to drop in on
Professor Bondo on the way?

No.

Imagine, I heard what sounded
like a no to your mother.

I thought you loved me,
but I was obviously mistaken.

Mummy, damn it!

Hello, Bondo, have you a minute?
... Helmer has an idea.

I understand ...

... that your hepatoma's next of kin
won't permit an autopsy.

I know you Danes take
pride in making things

as complicated as possible.
Never mind that.

I have found
a document that shows

that three years ago Zakariasen
signed up as an organ donor.

That could be to our advantage.
What do you mean?

Legally, we could
transplant the liver.

Who'd want a liver that's totally
kaput and has a malignant tumor?

We take a terminal patient.
Get consent from the next of kin

for an autopsy.
Give him the liver.

When he dies,
which will be soon afterwards

the liver will be ours.

You are joking ... or did you
have a particular patient in mind?

This isn't otology! Don't you
know your way round at all?

A joke ... if so,
everything here is a joke.

The theory and argument
are most interesting.

But the ethics just don't hold water.
You're talking people's bodies.

Possibly, but we are also talking
science and the common good.

I am afraid Bondo cannot
put your ideas to any use.

Now, gentlemen, I have a class.

I'm going to examine your hearing.

No need, my hearing is fine.

That's what we're going to check.

A healthy ear emits
a very faint tone.

By measuring it,
we can measure hearing ability.

You mean like
when your ears ring?

No, this tone cannot be heard
without amplification and filters.

First I'll record the
tone in your inner ear,

then amplify it and rerecord it
until it's been isolated.

I'll put a special
microphone into your ear ...

I think I could hear the tone.

The other day I heard a little
girl crying. Nobody else could.

Your hearing must be good, then.

Silly old git!

How is the Mona case proceeding?
Has the CMO calmed down?

You said somebody had spilt
coffee on the anaesthesia report.

That's typical of the Danes.

Such damned sloppiness!

How true! But what a Silly Billy
I had been! It dawned on me later

that there is always
a copy in the hospital archives.

A copy? Of what?

The anaesthesia report.
A carbon copy is always made.

One stays with the patient notes,
the other goes into the archives.

That's how we do
things in Denmark.

So as long as there's
no coffee on the copy, we're OK.

I must requisition
the copy for the CMO.

Oh, yes ...
the lodge meeting tonight.

I took the liberty of saying
you'd help brighten the place up.

Since you're so nimble-fingered.
Being a brain surgeon and all that.

We must all do our bit.

You don't mind, do you?

No, no, no.

There will be no class today.
I have something to do.

What do you want?

It was my turn to present my report.
I can't guarantee it'll stick.

Now I've read all about
the digestive tract in vain!

When will I ever need to recognise
an amylase enzyme again?

When you're a doctor, maybe?

Professor Bondo speaking.
Sorry to bother you again.

About that hepatoma patient ...

Can you send me
a new blood sample?

Yes, the size we use for
transplant compatibility tests.

Thanks.
A.S.A.P.

Right, I've made the recording.
Now we'll filter it.

If you'd wait outside ...

Can I watch?

I suppose so.

What happens
when you press the buttons?

The machine plays back and
amplifies again and again.

We get closer and closer to the
very faint tone until it's audible.

There it is. You're right,
you've excellent hearing.

Can you amplify the noise
in the room without that tone?

Something might
be hidden in the silence.

There's nothing in our box,
it's been tested again and again.

I thought I heard something.
Impossible. It's soundproof.

But I thought I heard something.
Really.

Could you amplify the sound
from the box with nobody in it?

All right, let's amplify silence!

Rigmor ... It's that damned report.

Moesgaard says
there is a copy in the archives.

That's right, the copy
always goes into the archives.

Did you only pour coffee over
the original, and not the copy?

The copy had been removed.
It never occurred to me ...

We must requisition the copy
before Moesgaard does.

That would look pretty silly.

It's your fault.
You are so damned lazy.

You can't just go into the archives.

You have to sign a receipt.

You don't understand.
And you've got to understand.

If the CMO gets that report
I might as well pack my bags.

Rigmor, is that what
you're hoping for?

Of course not, and anyway,
is the report so damaging?

No ... I think ... I really think
I'll have to get it myself.

Me, a tired old man.

If you are thinking
of burgling the archives

you're bonkers.
It's impossible.

And it would hardly be a good
place for you to get caught.

With your fingers
in the Mona notes.

Not a sound apart from tape hiss.

What's that?

Why must I be killed?

No soundproofing is sufficient
if one just goes on reamplifying.

It could be from a radio downstairs.

Why must I be killed?

Why must I be killed?

Voices can be thrown back
and forth from wall to wall.

Or from soul to soul.

Come along, we can have a chat.

I'm meant to be meeting someone.
Come on ...

Hi, Hook.
Hi. What have you got?

Some of those good eye drops.
I'll take them. Any news?

No. Apart from
driverless ambulances

and little girls bleeding
in the lift shafts.

What do you mean?
It's Bulder and his nutty mum.

Ghosts everywhere; you can tell
because they're transparent.

Tell Mrs. Drusse if you see any,
she'll be over the moon.

Actually, I'd heard
about the little girl.

My arse!

Come in, Mogge.
Ghosts at the Kingdom ...

Sounds interesting, eh?
My arse!

Sit down.

I deal with everything
people don't need.

I get rid of it.

Or I redirect it to
where people do need it.

Take those eye drops.
Who needs two half bottles?

I don't know.

They used to get binned.
But I invented a system.

They're very special.
Used as an anaesthetic.

This lamp is always on, always hot,
so the cocaine precipitates out.

Good quality stuff.

You'd be amazed how many doctors
upstairs will pay for a sachet.

Recycling, Mogge.
And imagination.

Take this, for example.

How many people
could use one of these?

Nobody, I don't think.

No, like the eye drops.

On the face of it
a severed head is worthless.

But suddenly it becomes
of value to somebody.

To whom?

Professor Bondo, maybe?
To give a student the chop?

Or a student
who doesn't want the chop?

What do you want
me to do for you?

All kinds of things, for an
extended term of employment.

I put this on as a security measure.

To stop anybody running off
with the surgical spirit.

But there is something
you can do right away.

I need help with Helmer.

Shortly after coming here he
operated on a girl called Mona.

A complaint has been lodged.

Helmer claims that
a minor haemorrhage occurred.

But a minor haemorrhage doesn't
cause total brain damage.

You were present at the operation.
What really happened?

I don't know.
I've no experience of operations.

All I remember is Rigmor
spilling coffee over her papers.

Over the anaesthesia report?
How clumsy of her.

But it's interesting.
Know what you can do?

Get me the copy of the
report from the archives.

Talk to Jensen in Technical
Services, he owes me one.

We must get hold of Mary's notes.
They'd tell us a thing or two.

Mum, she died in 1919.
Yes, but they keep the notes.

There must be an archive.
It has an alarm.

Don't tell me you can't find a way.

You managed
to find the cookie jar.

I didn't take those cookies.
Just get us into the archives.

Talk to Madsen, he must know how.

I'd like to talk to Jensen.

He's in the boss's office.

Are you Jensen?
Maybe. Why?

Hook sent me.
Hook? Why?

He said you owed him one.
Maybe I do. What does he want?

The code to the archives.
Sorry, no can do.

Only Mrs. K�g�rd has it
and she's integrity incarnate.

But every evening at 9 we test
the emergency power supply.

You once told me there was a way
of getting into the archives.

Yes, but I don't know the code.

Only Mrs. K�g�rd has it
and she's integrity incarnate.

But when we test the
emergency power supply at 9,

the alarm is turned on and off.
It's an ancient system.

When the emergency
supply kicks in,

the backup takes a while to come
on line. You have half a minute

in which you can switch off
the alarm without the code,

and open the door
with a master key.

You didn't hear that from me.
No, no.

How far gone did you say?
Eleven weeks.

This baby is at least 25 weeks old.

You scanned me for
some students a while ago,

and I wasn't pregnant then.

No, and it wasn't
that long ago.

Anyway, he looks fine.

Is it a boy?

It's a little boy!

Piled in the archives
the files of yore

Everything just right

Though fore was rear
and rear was fore

In piles of massive height.

What do you mean?

A funny old thing, memory.

They cut into people's memories

and now they want to
get into the archives.

Who?

The consultant and
the old lady and the student.

The archives seem
so peaceful, yet ...

Yet?

All the pain is gathered there.

Every letter is printed in blood.

What are you doing here?

I was sent to fetch
something from the archives.

But nobody's here,
so I'm waiting.

What are you doing?

It's a secret ...

... but I work for
Technical Services.

Things have been disappearing
from the archives recently.

There is a breach in the alarm
system at about 21.00 hours.

So I'm keeping an eye on
the archives at that time.

The archives are
closed now, anyway.

I must have been sent by mistake.

Cheerio.
Cheerio.

It's a big place.

Where are her notes?

I didn't get them.

You are quite impossible.

I almost got caught.

I was trying to look
natural and relaxed.

The only time you ever looked
natural and relaxed was in 1972

when you tried to prove

that Easter beer was
less proof than diet lager.

Apart from that one occasion
you emanate chronic guilt.

Maybe you have
something to do with it.

Yes, if you want something done
you must do it yourself.

See you outside
the archives in an hour.

First I've got a seance

for a group of staff.

Which staff?

Skeptical but curious representatives
from the natural sciences.

You cheated!

Run along.

Hello, my friend.
Come to hear about Haiti?

To hell with Haiti.
I just want a cup of coffee.

I'm afraid it's cold.
Did I say it had to be hot?

No way.
Consultants get hot coffee.

Why didn't you just take it?
I didn't like to.

You've got a lot to learn.

A good thing you noticed someone
had forgotten to lock up.

The sensor will
register any movement in here.

We'll go out, close the door
and switch the alarm on.

You locked him in.

You don't say.
Coming?

No, I've got to get some sleep.

This is Judith from neurosurgery.
Where's my archive stuff got to?

I know they're closed,
but I need that stuff tonight!

... Thanks.

Where did you get the code from?
Mrs. K�g�rd, of course.

I thought she was
integrity incarnate?

She is, but she is
also a spiritualist.

Ah, Mrs. Drusse.

You are quivering with anticipation.

What is the consultant going to say?

But Mrs. Drusse,
I have no explanation.

None!

As you should be
the first to understand,

as someone who meddles
with the inexplicable.

Don't you feel the tiniest
inkling of sympathy for me?

A neurosurgeon fumbling round
like a wretched halfwit?

Doesn't it make me just
a teeny, teeny bit human?

Hey, ho ...

I wonder where they
keep the oldest notes?

Stay still.
I am. I'm knackered.

I don't need the jabs to fall asleep.

Does the screen show
what people are thinking?

If I think about you,
do my sex centres light up?

Pleasure centres, Mogge.
Turn over.

OK, since I've sold
my body to science.

You should do likewise.

I'd put a pretty high price on it.

There you are, Duckling!

We have 42 serviettes
that need folding at the lodge.

To central labs
URGENT!!!!

Come in.

Hello, sorry to disturb you.

My name is Sigrid Drusse,
and this is my son, Bulder.

If I say the Messenger,

Easter edition,

what do you say?

Nothing.

Archibald and I received the
blessing from the spirits in 1943.

I remember you. You were
the woman of very little brain

who almost drove my father
insane. What can I do for you?

It's a scientific
spiritualist problem.

I've got in touch with a girl called
Mary Jensen, who died in 1919.

Could you look at her notes
and tell us how she died?

She died of tuberculosis.
It says so. Cause of death: TB.

Can we be sure it's true?
That it's the real cause of death?

Dissipated necrotic particles
in the pulmonary tissue ...

It doesn't look like TB.
More like acid damage.

What's that?

It occurs as a result of
inhaling acid gasses or chlorine.

Did they use acid
gasses to treat TB?

I've no idea what devilry
they tried in the old days.

But I'm glad
I wasn't that patient.

Shall I help you, Miss?

Oh, no!
What's wrong?

It's stuck to the plate.
The whole wash may be done for.

People can be done for
that way, too.

We'll have to wash them up again.

It'll be a long night.

And morning, too.

Where can I find a drink?
Over at anaesthesia.

Can someone relieve me?
Hurry, Helmer.

Those serviettes
can't be that difficult.

You have to
man the bar!

Helmer got the idea of
transplanting Zakariasen's liver.

I didn't know
Swedes had a sense of humour.

Zakariasen was a poor old chap.
He's not dead, is he?

Not far from it.

He's been brain stem dead
for over 24 hours.

He's going off fast.
Sorry, old chap.

Don't worry, another hepatoma is
bound to turn up in a decade or so.

This is Bondo, pathology.
That compatibility test ...

Ahah.

Thanks.

May I address the lodge?

What, in the middle
of the anaesthetic?

I request an acute audition.
An acute audition.

My brethren! Permit me to interrupt
the bacchanal absolutely acutely.

Brother Bondo wishes to address us.

Dear brethren ...

Dear lodge ...

I request immediate assistance
to perform a liver transplant.

May I inquire ... who the donor is?

Svend Zakariasen,
from your own department.

With a hepatoma.

And the recipient?

Me.

I have just learned that the donor
and I are fully compatible.

What is he saying?

That he'll transplant
the hepatoma to himself.

The man is mad!

Stig!

Calm down!
Release me.

I am going to hit him.

Brother Bondo still has the floor.
I'm going to hit him.

The only legal, ethically defensible
way of obtaining the hepatoma

is a transplant into my own body.
If the tissue functions in my body

for just a few minutes
it will become

my property.

We can then put
my own liver back

and conclude
the operation.

Have you considered
even for an instant

the consequences for
the medical profession?

Our credibility is at stake.

Things have come to a pretty pass
if we have to expose ourselves

to personal risk!

Doctors are at the
right end of the scalpel

and there they must stay!

Extraction

is no problem.
Professor Ulrich can perform it

on his ward.

But the implant
is another matter.

Where will that be done?
In the porter's toilet, for example?

Everything has been prepared.
Hook has helped gain access

to the civil defense hospital
located beneath the Kingdom.

It is on full standby.

He sought help
from outside the lodge?

Dr. Hook has often performed
services for this lodge.

Dear brethren ...

What is your answer?

I propose we ask
for guidance from the brother

on the Ethical Council.
What does he say?

Cheers.

And the Medical Council?

We are operating on nothing until I
have ascertained full compatibility

between myself
and a gin and tonic.

Dear brethren, this bacchanal
may not be quite as planned

but it seems most
interesting. Off we go

to the civil
defense hospital!

The ambulance will be
with you in two minutes.

Two minutes.

This operation contravenes
our Hippocratic oath.

There are no medical grounds for
a healthy patient to run such a risk.

The lodge oath
overrides anything else.

In the lodge,
lodge law applies.

The civil defense hospital
isn't the lodge.

I've brought the regalia for
the necessary inaugural rites.

Since this was
all your idea, Helmer,

I think you should
assist with the instruments.

Locus electus ...

No! They've spotted us!

Here's the material
you requested from the archives.

Great.
Sign here, please.

Thank you.
OK.

Pull alongside,
and we'll see if we can see her.

They're bringing the organ.

Wait ... let me see it ...

We must administer
the anaesthetic now.

If this goes wrong,
devote my body to medicine.

I want to be put into
the specimen collection.

But no transplants!

Now in her grave she lies ...

Sutures.

Sutures, Helmer.

Moesgaard ... will you take over?

After a winter
without surcease

The little girl's
gone home to God ...

Now in her grave
she lies at peace ...

God knows where that is, Bulder.

Where was she buried?

The organ is in place.
Have we circulation?

We have circulation.
Fine.

In two minutes we will
put Bondo's own liver back.

TetraPak ... yes.

Volvo ... yes.

Pripps Blue ... yes.

Bj�rn Borg ... yes.

Hepstars ... yes.

I am here.
I don't know how I got here.

And I ask myself
what the devil I have done?

Danish scum.

Blood pressure is falling.
Raise his legs.

Calcium.

Adrenaline. Quick!

We'll have to close him up.

With a malignant
tumor inside him?

Yes.
You can't be serious.

Or he won't get off
the table alive.

Oh, Bulder!

We must find her notes
and see where she was buried.

Are you hurt?
No.

There must be a
receipt from the chapel.

It may say where she was buried.

"Not to be released from chapel".

"Internal use".
What does that mean?

Thanks.
I may well need it.

What's the matter?
Have you seen a ghost?

Internal use ... internal use ...

Mary!

Once again we've been together at
the Kingdom. How did things go?

In the shadow of the eccentric, the
charming and the zany terror lurks.

Maybe that's the background against
which man's wickedness is clearest.

Mrs. Drusse now has her
ghost, Bondo his sarcoma.

Will their conquest bring them joy?
Who knows.

Right now the objects of their desire
look more like a terrible burden.

And Helmer?
Well, let me put it this way ...

This napkin is created
from 12 simple folds.

Compared to the countless twists
and turns of the human brain,

a very simple prototype.
But here is Helmer's version.

None too impressive, eh?
The truth about our abilities

always emerges one day.
A horrid thought, is it not?

My name is Lars von Trier and I
wish you all a very good evening.

If you join us again, be prepared
take the Good with the Evil.