All language subtitles for Klimt2006.1080p.WEB.H264-DiMEPiECE

Uncle Jonathan,
come and join me.

Let's have some fun
for a change.

Bible?

Bible?

Thank you very much.

Bible?

No, sir,
it's no monster.

It's a hybrid.

The head came
from the Russian front,
1915.

The arms are
viennese, 1917.

The hips are French.

This leg is Romanian

and that one Serbian,
1916.

- Times are hard.
- True.

Yet surely the one thing

there's no shortage of
at the moment is corpses.

- Man: For sure, sir.
- Herr schiele.

- Schiele: Yes?
- If you would care
to follow me.

Ein, zwei, ein, zwei,
ein, zwei...

Herr schiele,
this way.

There's no one here?

They've all gone.

Really?

- Even midi?
- Even fraulein floge.

Gustav.

Gustav, it's me.

Flowers.

Woman's voice:
How terrible.
Because of the weather,

they've decided
to cancel

the primavesi
masquerade ball.

Okay, that's enough
for today.

Come on down.
There's some food
and drink in the kitchen.

- Thank you.
- Thanks.

Thank you,
herr klimt.

I would work longer,

but I have
an appointment.

Thanks for today.

- What about you?
- What about me?

- Man: Melange
and a wiener jause.
- Man #2: For me too.

- Kaiser melange.
- Franziskaner.

- Bring me the usual.
- A tafelspitz.

- As usual.
- Very good.

- Man #3: As usual.
- Maria Theresa cafe.

- Man #3: As usual.
- Melange-- kaiser melange.

- As usual.
- What a rumpus.

- What's going on?
- A reconciliation dinner

between herr jodl's
supporters and herr
wickhoff's supporters.

And of course
the members of the academy.

Those you know well,
herr klimt.

Yes, but to me
they all sound alike,

as though they were farting
through trumpets.

- How do you
tell them apart?
- Easy.

In spite of his name,
herr jodl believes

that there exists
a single and unique form
of aesthetic beauty.

- Does he now?
- In his view, form is
of no significance,

as long
as there is beauty.

Herr wickhoff
on the other hand

argues that every era has
it's own concept of beauty.

A concept that changes
as the era changes.

For him,
nothing is ugly.

It just depends
on the era.

And the academicians?

They believe that
when herr Raphael died,

beauty died
along with him.

But it was
all good, clean fun,

that is until
herr loos turned up.

Ah. Here is klimt,

a modern ornamentalist.

A real pathological case.

He never stops
switching styles.

- What do you propose instead?
- Loos: Read my articles.

- Forget it.
- Loos:
Look at this mirror.

I mean look at it,
not into it.

What purpose
does it serve?

To adjust one's hat,
one's cravat,

- one's lipstick.
- Which, let me remind you,
are all ornaments.

Now look at the gold frame.
What purpose does it serve?

I'll tell you.
It serves to give work--

pointless,
unproductive work--
to craftsmen.

That's exactly
what I'm talking about.

The frame is useless,
therefore inexpressive.

The mirror is useful,
therefore functional,

therefore expressive
and therefore beautiful.

Oh, come on.

What you were just saying
is merely ornamental.

Therefore it's useless
and therefore it's ugly.

However, this cake
has allowed me to
shut your mouth,

therefore it's useful,
it's expressive

and, above all,
it's beautiful.

You, herr klimt,
I forgive.

And you know
why I forgive you?

Because at least
your paintings are sexual

as all art should be.

The crucifixion,
for example--

now what could
be more sexual

than the crucifixion?

Excuse me.

I'm-- I'm sorry.

Oh, sorry I'm so late.

I've just come
from the ministry.

Hartl?

Yes.

So what does
the minister have
to say for himself?

He must still be in a state
of shock, I suppose.

He's not the worst,
you know.

So, will there be
a scandal or not?

Maybe not.

Really?

The minister said
that for the moment
he supports klimt.

After Paris,
who knows?

If all goes well,
there'll be no scandal.

So it all depends
on the judgment of Paris.

God, that's pathetic.

Speaking of Paris,
have you packed?

My mother will take care
of that for me.

Naturally.

Everyone's here,
even jodl.

Man:
That fellow deserves
to have his face smashed in.

Man #2:
But he's with wickhoff.

I thought they couldn't
stand each other.

Do you know
what jodl said?

"We are not against
the nude art.

We are not
against free art.

But we are against
hideous art."

And he is sitting
right over here,

under our noses.

I feel like
smashing his face in!

No no no,
you'll do nothing
of the sort.

And our good friend klimt,
what is he thinking of doing?

Nothing. Klimt is
drinking his coffee.

Oh, leave them alone.

Woman:
Where are you going?

To vomit.
I'm going to vomit.

Man #3:
Herr klimt.

Herr klimt.

If all goes well
in Paris.

Herr klimt.

The flowers.
Schiele:
What?

Flowers.

Woman: Good heavens.
What happened?

- Man: A broken mirror.
- Man #2:
Well, I must say

the 20th century is
off to a good start--

a whole century
of bad luck.

- What's going on?
- You're famous,
didn't you know?

It can happen
to anyone, after all.

No, I'm joking.

No, I was talking
about the mirror.

I was standing
in front of it,

then someone asked me
how I was enjoying Paris.

I said something
or the other

and the mirror shattered.

Man #3:
What really happened?

Man #4: I spoke
to klimt and asked him
whether he missed Vienna,

he said, "not Vienna,
but the flowers."

When he said "flowers,"
the mirror shattered.

There's rodin.
So he came after all.

And mucha and...

Herr stuck.

Klimt: I need
a glass of water.

- Herr klimt.
- Ah.

You again.

Man:
Oh, you know me?
I am flattered.

Usually no one knows
civil servants...

At least not
the minor ones.

Allow me
to introduce myself--

secretary to
the consular service
of the Austrian embassy.

Third secretary...

In perpetuity.

At my age,
one learns to forget
all about promotion.

Honored nevertheless
to make your acquaintance.

I'm a great admirer
of yours.

Burgtheater.

What an
astounding achievement.

It's a fucking wedding cake
made of shit.

Yes, I had heard
your language was
a little--

shall we say
on the salty side.

It's the only language
I know.

Not true, I'm sure.

But I wouldn't dream
of contradicting an artist.

Or perhaps you're
just one of those people

who actually likes
wedding cakes.

Well, you say that
with contempt.

But after all
it's wedding cakes
that follow monuments,

not the other way around.

I need
a glass of water.

Where did you get to?
Everyone's looking for you.

The minister's there,
they are all there but you.

I have
the distinct impression

herr klimt is unaware
of what awaits him.

Austria,
my dear klimt.

Austria has
been honored.

You've won
the gold medal.

I knew it.

Oh shit!

Oh, really, herr klimt,

you exaggerate.

Herr klimt.

Mesdames, messieurs...

Attention, please.

I would like to announce
a great surprise

from the management
of the exposition.

Mesdames, messieurs,
will you please
now welcome

the great magician
monsieur melies

and his two
very talented actors.

You're not offended,
I hope.

Oh, offended?
No, on the contrary.

- Did you enjoy the film?
- I...

Thought it was remarkable.
My congratulations.

It's monsieur melies
you should congratulate.

Monsieur melies,
a great honor.

Oh, a mere trifle.

We cobbled
it together last week.

How did you like Lea?

She could charm
the birds out of the trees.

I hope you'll agree
to paint my portrait.

- Yes, I would love to.
- Tell me, what do you
think of Lea?

She could charm
the trees themselves.

If you like this one,
you'll like the real Lea
even better.

Pardon?

Don't worry,
monsieur klimt.

The real one is
not nearly as real
as the false one.

Ah.

Midi:
You like her,
don't you?

Hmm?

Yes, you do like her.

You always said
you cannot work

without a model
within arm's reach,

if I can
put it like that.

Yet all of a sudden
you can draw her by heart.

Par coeur.

Well, well.

Little gustl speaks French.

Quelle surprise.

Hmm?

No, midi.
No, not you.

You're beautiful, but...

But what?

Message for Mr. Klimt.

Sign here please.

- Is it from her?
- Klimt:
It's from someone.

A rendezvous.
Tonight?

I'm to meet
someone downstairs.

In Vienna
they're expecting you.

I know that too.

You're going to stay on
in Paris, aren't you?

I don't know.

Gustl,
I leave tomorrow.

Without me.

I've got to go--
the boutique.

Speaking of which,
have I shown you
my latest models?

No, I'd like
to see them.

Gustl, you will
tell me everything?

- I promise.
- Every detail.

Every.

- What? You!
- At your service.

You'll have to excuse me,

I'm on my way
to a romantic assignation.

- The carriage is outside.
- Just who are you?

- Your humble servant.
- I don't need a servant.

Do you know what
they call Paris?

The new Babylon.

It's a beguiling city
but a dangerous one.

I see. So you're going
to chaperone me, I suppose.

What if it's
the other way around?

I have my resources.

Was it the embassy
that sent you?

No, the person whose message
you've just received.

- The false Lea.
- False, true--
does it really matter?

Right away, monsieur.

Actually, I wear
several different hats.

At the cultural section
of the embassy

we're modestly renumerated.
But I get by.

Lea-- the false Lea--
is she wealthy?

The false one, no.
The real one, yes.

She has
a wealthy sugar daddy.

A sugar daddy.
Naturally.

Here we are.

Oh, I see I'm leaving you
in good hands.

- Have fun.
- You're abandoning me?

Mission accomplished.

Monsieur, if you would
kindly follow me.

Klimt:
Sir, may I ask
what all this is about?

Sir?

Sir, may I ask
what all this is about?

Sir?

Sir, I asked you
a question.

I am not permitted
to say anything, sir.

I'm sorry.

- You.
- Yes, it's me.

They told me
you're one of those men

who like
their women naked.

It isn't always
the case, you know.

Here in France,
nudite
is no longer
comme il faut.

Whiskey?

Mmm.

At the moment, whiskey is
all the rage in Paris.

But then, as you know,
the rage changes

so quickly in this city.

Six months ago it was port
with a splash of bitters.

And last year...

It was strawberries
and champagne.

But that's enough gossip.

Shall we get down
to business?

You said publicly
that you'd be delighted
to paint my portrait.

I can scarcely
believe it.

Believe it, mademoiselle.
Believe it.

What do you think?

The Duke wolff helenia
adores it.

- Oh?
-
A friend.

A very dear friend.

Let's say
an intimate friend.

And is he in Paris
just at the moment?

Who knows?

The Duke is
a globetrotter.

Don't you trot
the globe with him?

Sometimes I do.
Sometimes I don't.

Au fond,
he's an artist.

An artist who just happens
not to possess any talent.

So instead
of painting me himself

he commissions
other talented artists
to do it for him.

I see.

You haven't told me yet what
you think of this whistler.

If it weren't amusing,
it would be laughable.

You have
a cruel streak.

I like the cruelty
of artists.

It tends to leave
a bittersweet aftertaste.

And it mixes well
with your sweat.

Mmm, funny.

There's the smell
of horses about you.

But I also detect
a hint of apples, no?

How impatient you are.

Don't tell me you've got
another appointment.

No. No.

- I love you.
- What?

- Love at first sight?
- Yes.

- Yes.
- Be careful.

Love at first sight
doesn't always survive
the second.

Heavens, we're carrying on
like a pair of bumpkins.

But I personally prefer
to make love, as it were,

- through the proper channels.
- You can't deny
he's got allure.

I'd call it a nerve.

Mmm.

She is not bad.

She's not bad at all.

You think so?
I find her a bit stiff.

Well, don't forget--
it's not so easy.

He's certainly
a fast worker.

Is he of peasant stock?

I have no idea.

Ah.

My dear, I fear
it's your turn now. Go.

Go go go.

I do hope I didn't
keep you waiting.

No, on the contrary.

But I do wonder
how you changed
your hairstyle so quickly.

Unless of course...

You're not the real one.

Double Lea:
Men. Why do you
always need proof?

Always need evidence?

It isn't you, is it?

What isn't me?

Lea.

Lea.

Lea de Castro.

Don't tell me
you've been talking

to that poor little girl
who pretends to be me.

I've been told you
watched the film she's in.

Is she any good?

You believe me now?

I believe.

I gather you made a promise
to paint my portrait.

Mm-hmm.

Then I'll expect
you to keep it.

Actually, I shall
want two portraits.

One in which I'm clothed...

And the other
in which I'm stark naked.

Or stark nude.

It seemed to me
that only someone like you

would be capable
of painting me clothed

in such a way that people
would think I was naked.

And painting me naked
in such a way

that people wouldn't see
my nakedness at all, but--

- well, something else.
- Mm-hmm. What else?

So how long
will it take you?

Hmm?

A week?

Two weeks?

At the moment, I really
can't give you too much time.

Two weeks isn't
nearly long enough.

We could start tomorrow.

What you did
is very beautiful.

Very beautiful.

And very strange.

Man:
The man does have courage,
I'll give him that.

Man #2:
Easy if you're well paid.

Man:
Oh no, you can see
he really worked.

Man #3:
And that's all he's
got to show for it?

Man #2:
Well, you can't
make an omelet

without breaking eggs.

Man #3:
What he does
is break eggs

without making an omelet.

- Herr klimt.
- Herr minister.

What do you think?

Oh...

I find it all very...
Aback-taking.

Yes. Indeed this is
the word-- aback-taking.

But we'll talk
about it later.

We'll have a long chat
about it, just the two of us.

Man:
What's the difference
between a caricature

- and an allegory?
- Now you'll excuse me.

Man #2:
According to herr klimt,
there isn't any difference.

Man: Ah.

Man #3:
What do you say, professor?

Man #2:
I would argue rather
that if there is abuse,

it is not of antichrony
but of anti-poetics.

- Honorable secretary.
- Second secretary--

- hmm.
- Since last week.

- As the French say,
ca s'arrose.
- Ca s'arrose.

- Your good health.
- And yours.

Not everyone's happy.

Most of them are furious.

Not me. But then
I live in Paris.

There, your work would
be regarded as poetic--

charmingly poetic.
Here it's decadent.

I wish I were in Paris.

Don't delude yourself.

Here, decadent is
synonymous with diabolical.

In Paris, it just
means naughty.

Secretary:
You know, herr klimt,

I've been around.

And I can assure you,
it's a triumph.

It's a triumph that
may feel at the moment

very much like a defeat.

But it's a triumph,
nevertheless.

Klimt:
Have you seen Lea?

She's worried
about the painting.

Is it progressing?

I haven't had time.

I see. Well...

She's waiting for you
to get in touch with her.

And she's quite willing
to come to you...

Just as soon
as the portrait
is finished.

It's not a portrait,
it's an allegory.

I fear that's going to be
an unpleasant surprise

for mademoiselle de Castro.

What do you think
of my allegories?

Yet another abrupt
change of subject?

I think they're poetic--
charmingly poetic.

- Man: You think of it
as dionysian...
- Thank you.

Man:
But I can't agree.

Because I also discern traces
of a true apollonian spirit...

Klimt, I've been
looking for you.

What do you think?

What do I think?

I think it's beautiful,

sublime, revolutionary.

But that's not what I've
come to talk to you about.

I've been hearing
from my informants

that you have problems,
big problems.

Your paintings are
likely to be rejected.

There is even
talk of a scandal.

Two scandals--
because I'm going
to take them back.

Steal the paintings?

That doesn't make sense.
They are no longer yours.

They were once
and they will be again.

You're really going to get
into trouble, you know.

In any event,

whatever happens,
you have my support.

Berta--
Berta zuckerkandl.

I was looking for you.

Excuse me, please.

Many apologies,
but I have got to go.

So, you need to hear
what I've just heard.

200 signatures...

Man:
Actually no, not really.

Each ornament is,
in itself,

a form of expression.

Man #2:
And the expression itself...

Frau zuckerkandl's
a very powerful woman.

Congratulations.
This means the press
is going to get behind you.

You're saved.

You think so?

Our dear academicians
have a very short memory.

Alas for them,
but good for you.

For they're going
to attack you on every front,

which I have to tell you
is also a good sign.

The academy loathes you,
but herr kraus for his part,

abominates both you
and the academy.

The philistines
will be up in arms,

then herr loos
will counter attack

by saying that
they're the real scandal.

And with any luck, you'll
find yourself in the middle

of the most
god-awful stink.

I repeat, congratulations.

Tell Lea I am coming
to see her soon.

Change of subject.

Actually I don't believe
she's in Paris at the moment.

Gustav? Gustav,
are you talking to yourself?

No. No, I was...

Talking to someone.

Well...

The minister's furious.

- So am I.
- He has changed sides.

For the moment, he is...

He is against us.

So what?

Gustl... you are not
making things easy.

I'm sorry.

Man:
The exhibition--
was it a success?

Man #2:
Well, if you
measure the success

of such an event
by the number of visitors

who remember
to take their hats off,

I'd say it was a disaster.

Hartl:
No...

No no. No!

No, let me-- let me go.

Stop.

Hartl:
We'll redeem Austria.

Klimt. Klimt.

Hartl.

You are the only one.

The only one

who has any
reason to complain.

All those jodl's,
those loos's are--

- one moment!
- What the bunch--

we are the police.

Herr minister, why don't
we accompany you home?

Out of the question.
I'll stay with my friend klimt.

Oh, why didn't I
put up a fight for you?

Come on, my old friend,
let's have one for the road.

I know a place not--

not far from here.

Oh, your excellency,
what an honor.

We saw that the light was on

and so we decided to come up
and say good evening.

A wonderful idea.

Ah, herr klimt.

We haven't seen you
for quite some time.

- Have you reserved?
- No, we haven't.

I'm afraid we
are unforgivably
spur of the moment.

I'm sure we will
find something for you,

although we are
rather crowded tonight.

Herr adler and his friends

are in your
habitual salon,
herr klimt.

And the Russian
and the Thai salons

are also occupied.

How about
the persian salon?

Oh, I'm afraid
the Italians have that.

But how about
the western salon?

No, out of the question.

That only leaves
the African salon?

Oh, that's excellent!

You do know the rules
for that salon?

Of course, of course.

I love them!

Hartl:
Allegories, schmallegories,

call them what you please.

But all that nudity...

What were you thinking of?

Klimt:
The history of art

is also the history
of nudity.

Hartl:
Okay, but there are rules--

rules of representation
and you know the rules.

You know what you can show
and what you can't show.

Did you really have
to break every single one?

Klimt:
Did you see the shape?

The serpent legeia--

the founder of medicine.

The cycle of life and death.

Yes, but you
didn't say anything--

klimt:
I am a painter.
I am not a fucking critic!

Herr klimt...

Aren't you going to say
good evening to your daughter?

Good evening, herr klimt.

I admire your work.

How do you do?

How is school?

There is no school.

How very you--
children all over the place.

There is klimt
with the minister.

Death to decadents.

Hartl:
Death to morons!

- Long live the republic!
- Long live the Balkans!

- Long live the republic!
- Long live the Balkans!

- Long live the republic!
- Long live the Balkans!

Long live whores!

Quick. Choose
the one you want.

- Long live the republics!
- I'm going to stay
with your daughter.

Is she really
your daughter?

I suppose she is,
I don't know.

I'll have this one
and this one and this one.

I see you four
are going to cook up

a nice little
allegory together.

Mother:
How many have you got?

Five? Six?

More than that, mama.

If you ask me,
he's holding something back.

And all of them
with different mothers?

Sometimes I wonder.

Mama, would you
pass me a semmel?

I can see he would
rather not answer.

Mother, these
children of mine--

- yes?
- The models are free.

Oh yes...

They're free all right.

And I suppose it's
just a coincidence

they are all jewesses?

Yes, hermine.

That's what I read
in the paper,

- I didn't make it up.
- You don't have to make it up

because the paper
already did that for you.

Free, you say?

Klimt:
Mama.

Six? Eight?
10? What?

There's no point
in counting them, mama.

Am I right, gustl?

What are you
going to do?

I am going
to go to the studio

and paint, mama,
I am going to paint.

My god, my god.

Thank you both
for a very nice lunch.

Far, far too many children.

Mama...

A child is
a gift from god.

Whose god?
The Jewish one?

I'll see you both
this evening.

Thank you.

Hermine:
What do you want for dinner?

Guess.

Mother:
We are waiting for an answer.

Stew.

Don't you ever
get sick of stew?

Mama! Mama! Mama!

Come.

I have to show
you something.

It's me?

So to speak.

And?

Your condition
has stabilized.

We should nevertheless
continue with the Mercury.

Oh god, must we?

It takes so much out of me.

But my dear fellow,
you're an athlete.

Rolf, as you know,
I have children.

In fact, quite a few.

Is there any risk
that they might be...

That they have
been contaminated?

No, not really.

There's always
a risk, obviously,

but it's
a fairly small one.

You know half
the male population
of this city is syphilitic.

If it weren't you,
it would be someone else.

I see.

So your work--
going well?

Mmm.

How is your mother?

- Bad.
-
Your sister?

Worse.

You could have
them committed, you know?

I'd take care of it all.

No, I should prefer

to take care
of them myself, thanks.

Secretary:
Well well well, herr klimt,

here you are again.

Alas my friend, it can't
have escaped your notice

that Vienna isn't
any longer what it was.

In fact, it hasn't
really been Vienna

for a very long time.

Isn't it odd, though,

that when the minister
takes it upon himself

to reduce state subsidies
for the arts,

and sometimes
eliminates them altogether,

you continue
to receive support

from the most
unlikely sources?

You were chosen
by the chosen.

If you'll forgive the pun.

You were elected
by the elite.

Sorry, another pun.

You transferred your allegiance
to private enterprise

just in time.
The rich bourgeoisie
adores you.

And you clearly feel
the same way about them.

I'm beginning to sense
our friend doesn't look at all

favorably upon the idea.

- You won't sell it?
- It isn't finished.

But, klimt,
if we are to believe you,

not one of your
paintings is finished.

They aren't!

Well, what can I say?

It's your painting
and you must decide

what you want
to do with it.

We'll talk it over again
some other time, I trust.

But now what say
we take a little guided tour

of the klimt museum?

It's just simply marvelous.

Quite, quite remarkable.

The whole world.

What kind of world
would you say?

Man:
Where's klimt?

He left as always.

In my opinion,
klimt should paint

nothing but landscapes.

I also dreamed of you.

In this dream, I was married
to a very very old musician.

Old and rich, huh?

- No, not rich.
- No?

He was a retired
coffee house waiter.

Everybody called him
the professor.

Just imagine, he locked me
into a huge room.

Hmm.

And every night...

He brought me another man.

And so each night
I made love

to an unknown person.

Serena.

Have you been here
the whole time?

I think I am going to say
I only just arrived.

Better that way, no?

Perhaps. Listen, if you've
come about your portrait,

I'm afraid
I have to confess

I haven't done
much work on it
since our last sitting.

No. I haven't come
about the portrait.

It's something I saw
in here the other day...

Quite by chance.

- Do you mind?
- No.

Voila.
Here it is.

Who is this?

"Who is this?"

It seems you know
very well who that is.

Oh, yes?
How do I know?

Intuition.

Yes. Yes,
as a matter of fact

I do know.

Lea de Castro.
I see.

- Well, I've got to go.
- So soon?

Yes, so soon.

I'll leave you
to your models.

They seem quite
terrifyingly naked.

At times they are.

Serena:
Amuse yourself.
Work well!

Klimt:
Let's work.

So are you mad at me?
No, you aren't.

Thank you.
Steady now.

You haven't made
a rendezvous with her?

Photographer:
Turn your face a little.

Mais no, mais no,
mais no.

Is she still in Paris?

Photographer:
Very still.

Sometimes I wonder

if the real Lea
even exists.

Photographer:
Good.

I want to get married.

Are you serious?

Mmm... no.

Well, actually yes and no.

A free marriage.

I've got another piece
of news for you.

- Yeah?
- You've just had a child.

- A daughter.
- What? No.

- With who?
- Mizzi.

- I have a daughter?
- Yes.

I have a little daughter!

- Yes.
- That is wonderful news!

Gustl!

Mizzi:
Little red riding hood's
great grandmother

had a love affair
with a wolf.

So her daughter was born

half wolf and half human.

She became a wolf
when she grew up.

So, it was she

who swallowed
little red riding hood.

As she did so,
she sang a song.

Mizzi, it's me.

- You want to see her?
- Of course.

She's in there.

- No. I won't.
- Why not?

I should prefer not to
just at the moment.

She doesn't bite.

I'll see her
when she's older.

As you wish,
herr klimt.

What have you got there?

It's just a gift
from someone.

In a very poor taste.

A gift from someone

in a very poor taste.

Mizzi:
Gustav, I have
to talk to your father.

Go and play in the yard.

Come on.
Come on.

Herr klimt...

My father came to see me.

He wanted
to talk to me about--

well, you see, he--

he wanted to--

he needs money?

Oh, no. No.

No, it's not
about money. He--

he would like
the children

to be brought
up in the Jewish faith.

Fine. So long
as he takes care of it.

- You're not shocked?
- No, why?

I thought you were
a catholic?

I'm nothing at all.
But if your father

wants to amuse himself
by putting the fear of god

into his grandchildren
and you're not against it,

it's fine by me.

- What a relief.
- A relief?

Well, i-- I wasn't sure
how you would react.

Thank you, herr klimt.

A thousand,
thousand thanks.

Gustl!

Gustav!

Gustl!

Ow!

I've told you once,
I've told you 1,000 times.

Next time you will
get more than a slap.

What's he done?

There is something
wrong with that boy.

He prefers to play
with a little chink.

He knows he's forbidden to.

Why is it forbidden?

Herr klimt.

I ask you a question.

Well, you know...

We don't know
where they come from.

China?

You can be
terribly cruel.

Midi:
Sorry, but I'm going to
have to disturb you.

Klimt:
Not now, midi, please.

You're angry,
irritated, sad.

- I'm also late.
- Midi:
I have to talk to you.

No, tomorrow.

You've seen
the photographs?

You were followed
by a photographer.

You can be seen
quite clearly.

There's no doubt it's you
sashaying through Vienna

with a painting
under your arm.

Dear old gustl,
stealing his own painting.

What?

Shit!

- Klimt: I'll pay them back.
- Midi: And what will
you use for money?

- Klimt: I've no idea.
- Gustl, gustl.

I don't give a shit
about those critics.

And the academics,
they can take their
shitty little opinions

and their shitty
little theories

and shove them up their
shitty little assholes.

Oh my I've never seen
little gustl so angry.

I care about the people
who buy my work.

And believe me,
I promise you,

- those people--
I'm going to reimburse.

Yes, I'm laughing.

Sorry, gustl.
I'm laughing because

I know you really mean it.
That's a joke.

You think it's a joke?

Oh, little gustl is used to
getting his own way.

That's what's so funny.

To tell you
the truth, midi...

To tell you the truth i--
I don't know what to do.

Your friends will
clean up after your mess.

They usually do.

Thank you, midi.

Gustl!

Kissing anywhere
but on the lips is like
smoking without inhaling.

I'll keep that in mind.

I have to work.

Don't worry, I'm going.

- Ah, non!
- Yes!

Where are you?

Or that matter,
who are you?

I was waiting outside.

Then I met pussy,

so I followed her in here
by the back door.

Why aren't you in Paris?

Paris?

Oh, Paris is
a long way away.

I note that you
haven't asked for news

of mademoiselle Lea.

Oh, you mean
the false Lea?

She's the one
you're in love with.

- Or am I wrong?
- I wouldn't know.

Perhaps they're both false.

Both?

All three of them.
Who can tell?

Duke wolff helenia,
you know...

He's a viennese
to the tips of his
manicured fingernails.

He just adores imbroglios.

He adores to set the cat
among the pigeons.

So...

So?

Why don't you go to her
since she's waiting for you?

You said she,
not they.

I know,
tricky isn't it?

Now you must excuse me.

Well well well,
look who's here.

I was expecting you.

Actually, it wasn't you
I was expecting.

- It was him.
- Oh, hello hello.

Oh, my poor friend.

I can see you're
completely discombobulated.

You have my sympathy.

But come in.
Come in.

Please, come in.

- Bonsoir, Jean-Claude.
- Bonsoir.

Where is Lea?

There is no one here.
I mean, no one but me and you

and your double.

Is there anything
I can offer you?

Do make yourselves at home.

This is my home, you know?

It's my studio.

I rent it out from
time to time to the Duke

or else to one
of his acquaintances.

Or maybe I should say
accomplices?

Where is Lea?

Sit down, my friend.
Sit down.

There are chairs
for everyone.

Forgive me,
I've a memory like a sieve.

I can't
seem to remember

anything at all
about poor Lea.

Wait, though.

I have what you might call

mnemotechnical hands.

Why don't we
interrogate them?

Now where have
my scissors got to?

You're holding them,
dear melies.

Ah, yes, so I am.

All right, let's see.

Light.

Lea?

Lea.

- It's idiotic!
- It's simply idiotic!

It could be that
I am an imbecile.

Idiot means that you are
self-enclosed,

a prisoner of yourself,
of your sense data.

An imbecile is someone
who has no sense.

What about him?

Wittgenstein:
...Which can be expressed
in less than three words.

- Imbecile.
- How can you say that?

I say it because
it's true.

It is no use here.

It lends itself only
to vagueness.

May I join you?

Ah, schiele, it's you.
Yes, please.

They say you found
a new Chinese style.

Do you have a pencil?

I'll draw the first line

and you draw the next
and so on.

Schiele:
Who's winning?

No one.

Whose drawing is this?
Yours or mine?

Do you know what
those young people say?

They say that you have to
stand outside of history.

This history's a nightmare.

And that there's
absolutely nothing else

to be said about it.

And who are they?

I don't know.

They sound like
philosophers.

Except they say
philosophy

is rubbish.

Yes, of course.-

oh.-

Soldier:
Schiele.

Schi...

...ele.

Schi--

ha!

Man:
Come this way.

Calm down.

Moritz:
What are you reading?

Klimt:
Dante.

And you find Dante
helpful, do you?

And what does that
have to do with you?

Nothing. Nothing.

So very sorry
to have--

as a matter of fact,
I do find it helpful.

I see. I see.

Here you are,
professor.

May I offer you something?

No, thank you, professor.

I've had enough to drink
this evening.

I am not a professor,
herr klimt.

I am nothing--
virtually nothing.

Once upon a time,

I was actually doing
what Klaus does now.

Ah. I knew
I'd seen you before.

My name is Hugo.

Hugo Moritz.

To your very good health.

I've spent 30 years
at this table

listening to the drivel
of these gentlemen:

"What is beauty?
What is ugliness?

What is function?

Everything is beautiful.

Everything is ugly.

Nothing is functional."

To your very good health...

Sir.

Police have only just left
and they're at it again.

Really, these gentlemen
are seriously beginning to
get on my nerves.

In my day I'd have
had them slung out

on their backsides by now.

Come, let's be off.

I think I'll go home.

Nonsense.
Far too late to stay,
far too early to go.

Come. I live just
across the way.

Bring your glass.

As I say, it's a mere
matter of crossing the street.

And please, don't concern
yourself about the bill.

It's all taken care of.

I have got
a permanent tab here.

I trust the incense
doesn't bother you?

My son simply can't
live without it.

Now...

If you'll excuse me
for a moment,

I have to get dressed.

Actually, I think
I should be on my way.

- But I can find--
- oh, no no no no.

I won't hear of it.

Too late, herr klimt.
Too late.

Moritz:
Ah, here's the little
genius of the family.

Thomas is a great admirer
of yours, herr klimt.

He's not wholly
unlike you either.

For he too represents
a certain evolution in
the artistic process.

In just 15 years,

he has gone
from writing music

which was almost archaic

to music of
the utmost modernity.

Play us something,
Thomas.

You see what nowadays you
would call "early music."

And now, Thomas...

That'll do.

Now it starts to get
really up-to-date.

And now total modernity.

In his most recent
compositions,

he has actually gone
beyond modernity,

beyond everything,

thereby coming full circle.

That'll be all for
this evening.

Ho...

I--

I love you.

I love you to death.

Come.

Come with me.

Come.
I love you.

Over there.

Yeah.

Mmm...

My name is Anna.

All right.

Moritz, is he
your husband?

Let's say he's
my supplier.

I see.

Don't be too hard on him,
the poor thing.

Do you do this
every night?

Yes. Every night.

We were meant to
recreate your painting.

We weren't successful,
so he's not happy.

No.

Where did you
disappear to?
You scared me.

I had forgotten I had
a rendezvous with a lady.

Look, there she is.

She wanted to come.

Actually, so did I.

I wanted you to know.

Mizzi, how are you?

You know
we're a couple?

Congratulations.

See? I told you.

You're not angry?

No. Why should
I be angry?

What's the matter
with her?

Nothing.
She's always been like that.

Ah...

There she is,

the mysterious lady.

The professor's wife.

The professor's
wife?

Thomas is
the professor's wife.

Tubby little Mozart!

Then who is she?

A client.
There's a different one
every evening.

You understand?

Yes.

It's wonderful.

Isn't it?

You haven't yet got it right,
but you're almost there.

The main problem is finding
the exact coloration

that will help us to
detect the bacilli.

We'll get it
eventually.

It really is
very beautiful.

Oh, it's better than that.
It's useful.

Thank you, Rolf.

Come again whenever
you want.

I'm here every day.

Now...

There is something else

I'd like to show you.

Yes, please.

Secretary:
Herr klimt.

Herr klimt.

Herr klimt.

Oh, yes.
It really is me.

I was just thinking
how long it's been

since the last time
we ran into each other.

Well, we're all
extremely busy at the moment.

Busy at the ministry
of culture?

You do fuck-all.

There you are mistaken.
At the moment,

our task is to prevent people
from creating anything,

which, believe me, takes
a great deal more energy

than helping them
create something.

But why am I
telling you all this?

I no longer work for
the ministry of culture.

I work for the ministry
of finance-- taxes, you see?

And I should warn you,
they're beginning to take
an interest in you.

Tell me,
just out of curiosity,

a painting-- a portrait, say--
how long does it take you?

Are you checking
on my finances?

Yes, I'm afraid I am.
Apologies.

Right here,
right now?

Yes, again.
Apologies, again.

Do you find it at all odd
that we've known each other

all these years and I still
don't know your name?

Let's keep it that way,
shall we, at the moment?

Still working
for the Duke?

The Duke? Mademoiselle
de Castro's benefactor.

Strange, I saw him
just the other day.

He asked me to
pay him a visit.

Since his accident,
he doesn't get about as
much as he used to.

Tell you the truth,
he doesn't really invite you.
He summons you.

And what I discovered was
that it's you he's after.

He asked me to have
a word with you

and-- eh, I was going
to say invite--

summon you to see him.

You won't even have to
make an appointment.

He-- he never gets
anybody these days.

Here's his address.

Now you must excuse me.

Yes yes yes.

Ahem. Hmm.

Uh, I've been
watching you.

Is everything all right?

Yes, everything's fine.

You were talking
to yourself.

No no no, I was--

Oh. Remember me?

Paris. Melies?

I was you.

Man:
Herr klimt,
they are waiting for you.

Klimt:
Lea.

Lea.

Lea, where are you?

Lea, where are you?

Who are you?

Hmm.

You know, it never
ceases to amuse me

to see how easily

people will fall into
my little traps.

Traps that are, after all,
scarcely what--

what you would
call machiavellian.

Or should the word
be mephistophelean?

Or even angelic,-

which I have to say,
would be my own word for it.

Whichever,
here you are.

You've fallen headlong
into my trap.

It's a really rather
simple little trap.

Especially for
a man like you.

Hmm?
A ladies' man,

so they say.

If you knew how often
I have been asked

that embarrassing question--

I'm even tempted to
call it a stupid question,

except that that would be
extremely disobliging to you,

would it not?

But from what I hear,
you're a rather frank and
forthright sort of fellow,

doesn't suffer fools gladly,
that sort of thing.

Which, I have to say,
is not at all my first
impression of you.

Ahem.

And when might all...

Of this have happened?

How old is Lea?

She is not old,
my friend. She's dead.

Murdered.

Murdered in her bed.
Where else?

I need a glass
of water.

There are even those
who said that I did it.

No one could prove
a thing, of course.

I tell you, I wouldn't
have minded ending my days
in a prison cell.

It was you I was with
a little while ago, wasn't it?

I don't know.

I really do believe
it was you I was with.

Octave:
Why does it surprise you,
my dear herr klimt,

that there should be so many
different layers?

Why do you keep wondering
which is the real one?

You have doubles too,
after all.

Are you the real klimt?

Perhaps you're only
the latest one.

Man:
That's it.

Soldier:
Bad news from the front!

Bad news

from the front!-

good gracious.

Can it really be
Gustav klimt?

Thank you.

No no, there's no
need to thank me.

I'm honored,
herr klimt.

Really most honored to
be of assistance to you.

But I bet you
don't remember me.

No.

Herr no.
That's me.

Of course. Herr Otto
messerschmitt Von ommit.

Mmm!
Exactly so.

Dear sir, exactly so.

Herr no.

Is there something
I can do for you?

No.

Well, at least let's
walk a little while together.

Uh, nothing broken,
I trust?

No.

- Well, I'll see you home.
- No.

Uh...

- I bet you despise me.
- No.

Mmm, no no no no.
The correct answer is yes.

They all despise me,
and they always have.

There's absolutely nothing
I can do about it.

I simply can't
resist saying no.

As a matter of fact,

my entire career
has been built on this

natural tendency of mine
to say no

to every question
I'm ever asked.

And it's true you voted
against me

to the school
of fine arts?

That's right.
It was thanks to me

you were never
appointed professor.

And you voted no on
every jury of every competition

- I've ever entered?
- Exactly so.

Me and my notorious no.

Nevertheless, you have
to admit that

without me

and my no's,

Vienna would now
be a graveyard

of ugly monuments.

Ugly because
they're beautiful.

For too much beauty,
in my view,

is far worse
than too little.

No, we simply don't have
the space for so much beauty.

The old would have to be

endlessly demolished

to make room for the new.

Man:
And now, ladies
and gentlemen,

I proudly present
Marco Polo.

My next song
is dedicated

to someone who happens
to be listening to us

at this very moment.

To a great artist...

It's all over.

All over?

Nurse:
Ave Maria...

Ora pro nobis...

Mater dolorosa...

Klimt:
Flowers.

Death is all around us.

How terrible.

Isn't it a shame
about the weather, Gustav?

Yes, it is.

And I was planning
a costume fitting

for the fancy dress ball.
Look.

I found this.

Isn't it beautiful?

But because of the weather,
they've decided

to cancel the primavesi
masquerade ball.

- Midi?
- Mm-hmm?

What time is it?

Late, I'm sure.

Poor Gustav.

He doesn't know where he is.
He's lost.

Yes, she's here.
It's my surprise.

Lea is here.

- The real Lea.
- Lea: I don't think
we ever met.

Did we?

Klimt:
I don't know.

Poor klimt.

He doesn't know
where he is.

He's lost.

You are not going
to kiss her?

She's come from far away
to bid you
adieu.

There you are at last.
I'm so pleased to see
you again.

- And you.
- It's so much nicer here.
Don't you agree?

I'm trying to
find a way out.

It's that way.
Just turn left,

then left again.
Keep turning left,

left left left, and then,
hey, presto,

you're there.

Who are you?

My name is Sylvia.

I'm lost,
just like you.

Do you like to
get lost?

Just like you.

Everyone's looking
for me,

just like you.

Come on.
It's this way.

We've got to hide.

Were you talking
to yourself?

No.

I was talking to him.

To a corpse?

And what were you
two talking about?

Flowers.

Klimt:
"Who art thou,"

asked the guardian
of the night.

"From crystal purity
I come," was my reply.

"And great my thirst,
persephone.

Yet heeding thy decree,
I take to flight and turn

and turn again,
forever right.

I spurn the pallid
cypress tree.

Seek no refreshment
at its sylvan spring,

but hasten on
towards the rustling river
of mnemosyne

wherein I drink to
sweet satiety.

And there, dipping my palms
between the knots

and loopings of
its mazy stream...

I see again, as in
a drowning swimmer's dream,

all the strange sights
I ever saw,

and even stranger sights
no man has ever seen."