You wanted to see me, doctor?

Have you seen Mrs. Vogler,
sister?

No, not yet.

Then I will let you know about
the situation

and will explain to you why
you must take care of her.

As you may know,
Mrs. Vogler is an actress,

and was cast as Electra.

In the middle of the play
she went silent

and looked around as if surprised.

She stayed silent for a minute.

Later she excused herself saying
that she could not contain her laughter.

The next day the theater called

to ask if she had forgotten
the rehearsal.

When the housekeeper went to
see her,

she was still in bed.

She was awake, but did not respond
to her questions and did not move.

She's been like that for three months

and they have done all tests imaginable.

The result is clear:
she is totally sane,

physically as well as mentally.

This is not even about a hysterical
reaction.

Any questions,
Sister Alma?

No?

Well then, go with Mrs. Vogler.

Good day, Mrs. Vogler.

I am Sister Alma.

They have put me in charge of taking
care of you for some time.

Maybe I should tell you about myself.

I am 25 years old and engaged.

I have been a nurse for two years now.

My parents have a farm.

My mother was a nurse before marrying.

I will go for the dinner plate.

Fried liver and a fruit salad.
This looks very good.

Would you like to raise your head?

Are you fine like this?

Sister Alma.

What is your first impression?

I don't know what to say, doctor.

At first her face seemed sweet,
almost infantile.

Then her eyes...

She has such a severe stare...

I don't know, maybe I should...

What are you thinking Sister Alma?

Maybe I should turn down this job.

Has something scared you?

No, but...

she should have an older and more
experienced nurse.

Experienced in life.

It could be that I may not be able.
To handle it. To resist?

Mentally.
Mentally?

If the state of Mrs. Vogler is the
result of a decision,

it should be strong like when she
was well.

And?

It is a decision that shows great
mental strength.

Maybe I am not up to it.

Maybe you would like to see the dusk,
Mrs. Vogler.

I will close it later.

Would you like me to turn on the radio?

There is a radio soap, I think.

Excuse me, my dear.

Oh! You must forgive me!

There is nothing else I desire
other than your forgiveness.

What are you laughing at, Mrs. Vogler?
Is the actress,that one that's funny ?

What do you know about compasion?
What do you know?

What do you know about compasion?

I don't understand those sort of
things, Mrs. Vogler.

I like cinema and theatre,
but I hardly go.

I feel a great admiration for
artists.

I think art has a great importance
in life.

Especially for those that have serious
problems.

I should talk about those things.
I'm skating on ice.

Let me see if I can find music.

Is it alright like this?

Good night, Mrs. Vogler.
Sleep well.

Damn it!

It's strange.

One goes through life doing
the same things.

Doing the same things.

I will marry Karl-Henrik and will
have some children...

that I will raise.

All of this is decided.
It is inside me.

There is nothing to think.

It is an enormous feeling of
security.

I have a good job and I am happy
with him.

That is also good,

but on the other hand.

But it is good...

It's good.

I ask myself what will really
happen?

Elisabeth Vogler...

Elisabeth...

.... today, between the American
artillery and the South Vietnamese

and the desperate guerrilla of
Vietcong

that attacked the vital coastal base.

Marine planes and the American
airfoce in Quang

are bombing positions of the
Vietcong army in Tay Ninh.

Today planes have left on more
than 48 bombing missions.

And in other fronts, various American
troop batalions,

landed yesterday in the coast near...

In this zone more than 2.000 vietcongs
were captured

in the largest operation in the
last three months.

Today the street disturbances...

.... that have sent more than 141 Vietcongs
to the tribunals...

Would you like me to open the
letter, Mrs. Vogler?

Should I read it?

Would you like me to read it?

"Dear Elisabeth: Since they don't
permit me to see you, I am writing you.

If you do not want to read my letter,
then you can ignore it.

I can not stop looking for contact
with you,

since I am tormented constantly by
one question:

Have I hurt you in any way?
Have I hurt you without knowing?

Is there a terrible misunderstanding
between us?"

Do you think I should keep reading this?

"Lately we were happy;
as far I thought.

We'd had never been so close
to each other.

Do you remember when you'd say:

"Now I understand marriage"?

You have shown me..."

I do not understand...

Yes. "... that we should see each
other like two anxious children,

Full of good will and
the best intentions,

but gov...

But govern by forces that we
only parcially control.

Do you remember saying all this?

We walked through the woods

and you stopped me holding from my
belt..."

There is also a picture with the
letter.

It is a picture of your son...
I don't know if...

Would you like to see it, Mrs. Vogler?

He looks like such a sweet child.

I have been thinking, Elisabeth,

and I don't think you should still
be in the hospital.

I think it is for the worse.

Since you don't want to return home,
you and Sister Alma

can go my house on the coast, eh?

You think I don't understand?

The impossible dream.

Not of seeming, but of being.

Conscious every moment.
Vigilant.

At the same time,

the abiss between what you are for
others and for yourself,

the feeling of vertigo and the
constant desire

at least, of being exposed,

of being analalized, dissected,

maybe even annihilated.

Every word a lie,
every gesture a falsehood,

every smile a grimace.

Suicide?

¡Oh, no! That is horrible.

You would not do such a thing.

But you can stay immobile and in
silence.

At least that way you don't lie.

You can close within yourself.
alienate yourself?

This way you will not have to
act roles,

and not put on false gestures.

You think.

But, do you see? Reality is in the way,

your hiding place is not impenetrable.

Life sweeps in through everywhere.

And you are obliged to react.

No one asks if it is real or unreal,
if you are true or false.

The question is only important
in theatre.

And almost not even there.

I understand you, Elisabeth.

I understand that you are in silence,
that you are immobile,

that you have placed this lack of will
in such a fantastic system.

I understand you and admire you.

I think you should maintain this role
until it ends,

until it stops being interesting.

The you can leave it.

The same way that you left little by little
the others.

Mrs. Vogler and the sister
left for the the doctor's house

at the end of the summer.

Being close to the sea produced
a favorable effect on the actress.

The apathy that had crippled her
was left behind for long walks,

fishing, cooking,

writing letters
and other entertainments.

Sister Alma enjoyed her rural
reclusion

and her patient.

Don't you know that it's bad luck
compare hands?

Elisabeth,

may I read you something from
my book?

Oh, am I bothering you?
It starts like this:

"All the anxiety that we carry
with us,

our frustrated dreams,
the incomprehensible cruelty,

our fear of extinction,

the interior painful view of
our terrestrial condition,

have slowly eroded our hope

and any other salvation.

The bellow of our faith and
doubt against darkness and silence

it is one of our most terrible tests
of our abandonment

and of our terrified and indescribable
knowledge."

Do you think it is like this?

I don't believe it.

Change...

My worst defect is laziness and later
I feel guilty.

Karl-Henrik fights with me
because of my lack of ambition.

He says I go about like a zombie.

I think that's unfair.

In exams I was the best from
my group.

But it's certain that he refers
to something else.

You know?

Sorry.
Do you know what I sometimes think?

In the hospital where I was examined

there is a home for elderly nurses.

Those that always lived for
their work. Always in uniform.

They live in their small rooms.

Imagine all your life dedicated
to something.

I mean to say, believing in something,
carrying out,

believing that your life
has a purpose.

I like things that way.

Clinging to one thing intensely,
and nothing else matters.

It should be done.

Meaning something to the rest.

You don't think the same?

I know it seems childish,
but I believe in it.

OH my god!, look at the rain!

Ah, yes!

He was married.

We had a relationship for
five years.

Then he was tired, ofcourse.

I was so much in love,
that's for sure, and he was
the first.

I remember everything like a
long torment.

Long periods of pain and
later short periods of...

It as if you teach me to
smoke.

He used to smoke a lot.

Thinking about it now,
it is really common,

cheap fiction.

In a certain way, it was never
real.

I don't know how to describe it.

At least,
I was never real for him.

My pain was real, that's certain.

It seems that I was part
of it,

but in a disagreable manner,

like it had to that way.

Including the things we said to
each other...

Many people have told me that
that I am a good listerner.

Funny, eh?

But no one has bothered to listen
to me.

Like you are doing now.
You are listening.

I think you are the first person
to have listened to me.

It can't be that interesting.
I think it might be better to
read a book.

God!, and I continue.
Am I bothering you?

It is so nice to talk.

one feels so warm and well.

I have never felt this way in
my life.

I always wanted a sister

and I only have a bunch of
brothers. Seven.

Funny, eh?
And then I arrived.

All of my life has been sorrounded
by boys.

I like boys,

but you should know that with
all of your acting experience.

I really like Karl-Henrik .

But, as you know,
you only love one time.

I am faithful to him.

In my profession there are opportunities,
I am telling you.

Karl-Henrik and I had rented a
house next to the sea.

It was June and we were alone.

One day, Karl-Henrik had to go
to the city, and I went to the
beach alone.

It was trully great.

There was also another girl.

She lived in a nearby island,
but had come to our beach

because it was facing the south
and much more protected.

And we layed down to sunbathed
completely naked.

We slept a little,
and then we rubbed suntan oil.

We had on those cheap straw hats...

Mine had a blue ribbon.

I was laying and looking from
underneath it.

I contemplated the view,
the sea and the sun.

It was so very strange.

Suddenly I saw two figures
jumping from the rocks and on
top of us.

They would hide and then spy
after us.

"There are two boys looking
at us", I said to her.

She was called Katarina.

"Well then, let them look", she said.
And then she turned around.

It was a very strange sensation.

I wanted to hide and dress,
but I just stayed still

face down,
with my ass on the air,

totally ashamed,
totally quiet.

The whole time I had Katarina
next to me,

with her thick chest and thighs.

She was there, laying,
laughing a little to herself.

Suddendly I saw the two boys
getting close and looking.

I saw that they were extremely
young.

Then , one of them,

the bolder one,

got right close to us

and then he started crouching
next to Katarina.

He pretended to be holding his foot
and he seated to touch his toes.

I was feeling totally strange.

Then unexpectedly Katarina said:

"Well aren't going to get on top?"

And then she touched his hand
and helped him get undressed.

Suddenly he was on top of her,

and she was helping
and was holding his behind.

The other boy simply sat and
observed.

I heard Katarina whisper
on his ear and laugh.

I had his face directly in
front of mine.

It was all red and swollen.

Suddenly I turned around and
said: Aren't you going to come
with me?"

Katarina said: "Now go with her".

And he left her and landed on
me, completely hard.

He grabbed one of my breasts.
God, how it hurt!

And in some way I was ready
and I came immediately...

I was going to tell him:
"Be careful so I won't
be pregnant",

when he came. I felt...

I felt , for the first time in
my life, how he poured inside me.

He grabbed me by the shoulders
and arched backwards.

I came again and again.

Katarina was now on his side,
looking at him, and held him
from behind.

When he came, she hugged him
and grabbed his hand to
masterbate with.

When she came,she cried so much.

Then we all three started to
laugh.

We called the other boy that was
seating.

His name was Peter.

He was confused, and with the
aspect of being completly frozen
in the sun.

Katarina unbuttoned his pants

and started to play with him.

He came in her mouth.

He bent forward and started
to kiss her on her back.

She turned around, grabbed his
head with both hands

and offered her breast.

The other boy was so excited ,

that we both started again.

It was as good as the first time.

Then we swamp
and said good bye.

When I returned home, Karl-Henrik
had was home.

We dined together and drank
the red wine he had brought.

Then we slept together.

Never had it been that good,
not before or after.

Can you understand?

I ended up pregnant,
but ofcourse.

Karl-Henrik, which was studying
medicine, took me to a friend and
had it aborted.

We were both happy.
We did not want children.

Well at least for the moment.

It didn't make sense.

Him and I did not fit.

Later one has a bad conscience
for the little things,

Do you understand?

What happens with everything
you believe in?

Isn't it needed?

Can you be one and the same
person in a time?

I mean to say,
I was two people?

God, I am so dumb!

In any case, I don't have any
reason for whining.

Wait, I am going to go get a
tissue.

It is almost daylight

and it keeps on raining.

Imagine, I have been talking
without stoping.

I have been speaking and you
have been listening.

What a bore it must be for you!

What interest can be my life
be to you?

One should be like you.

You know what I saw when I say
your movie last night?

When I got home, I saw myself
in the mirror and thought:
"we are the same."

Don't misunderstande me,
you are much more better
looking,

but we are similar.

I think I could become you,
if I made a real effort.

I mean from the inside.

You could become me like this,
with nothing else.

Although your soul would be
much bigger.

I would overflow all over.

You should sleep, if not,
you will sleep on the table.

No, I should sleep,
If not, I will sleep on the table

and that would be a bit
uncomfortable.

Good night.

Listen, Elisabeth...

Did you call me last night?

Last night, were you in my
bedroom?

Do you also want me to take
your mail.

Can you give me a sip?

Good bye.

"Dear doctor: I always wanted
to live this way.

This silence, to live isolated,

feeling how the maltreated soul

started to finally heal.

Alma is spoiling me in the most
moving manner.

I think, by the way,
that she is enjoying it

and that she likes me a lot,

she is even excited in a
delicious and unconscious way.

It is fun to study her.

Sometimes she cries for
past sins,

like an orgiastic episode
with an unknown guy.

Followed by an abortion.

Complains that her life's concepts

dont agree with her actions. "

I see that you are reading theatre.

That is a good sign.
I will tell the doctor.

Don't you think we should
leave soon?

I am starting to miss the city.
Don't you?

Would you really like to
make me happy?

I know it is a sacrifice, but
Ineed your help right now.

It is nothing dangerous.
I want you to talk to me.

It doesn't have to be anything
special. Anything.

What are we having for dinner

or if you think that the water
is cold after a storm

or too cold to go swimming.

We should only need to speak
a few minutes.

One minuto.
You could read it from your book.

Only some words.

I must not try to get upset.
You stay in silence, that is yours.

But I now need you to speak to me.

Mi dear wife, can't you say
not even a simple word?

I knew you would oppose.

You can not know how I feel.

I always thought that the
great artist felt

great compasion for the rest,

that he created from a great
understanding of sympathy

and the necessity to help.

Stupid me.

You have used me!

Now that you don't need me
you throw me without more!

Yes, I hear very well how it
sounds!, how false it sounds!

You have used me
and now you get rid of me!

Every word!
And then, this glasses!

You have really hurt me.

You have laughed behind my back.

I read the letter you sent the
doctor, it wasn't sealed.

And I read it all!

You made me talk!

You made me say things that I
would never have told anyone.

And you tell them!
A study, eh?

¡You aren't...!

Well now you are going to talk,
if you have something to say!

You are a rotten...!

¡No, still!

You were really scared, eh?

For one second you have really
been afraid, no?

a real fear of death, eh?

You thought that Alma had become
crazy.

What kind of person are really?

Or do you think like this:
"I will always remember that face,

that tone of voice, that expression."

I will give something that you
will not forget!

You like, right?

For me it is not that simple...

nor that funny.

But you always had your smile.

It must be like that?

Is it really important not to
lie?

to speak with a truthful tone?

Can one live without
speaking freely?

To Lie, flee and avoid things.

Isn't it better let oneself and be
lazy and forgetful, false?

Maybe you would be better if you
allowed yourself to be what you are.

No, you don't understand.

You don't understand what I am saying.
YOu are inaccessible.

They said you were mentally sane,
but your crazyness is the worst.

You act as if you were sane.

You do it so well
that all believe you.

All except for me,
because I know how rotten you are.

What am I doing?

¡Elisabeth!

¡Elisabeth, forgive me!

I have behaved like an idiot,
I don't know what's happened to me.

I am here to help you, but
when I saw that horrible letter...

I felt very betrayed.
You asked me to talk about myself.

It was nice,
you seemed to compassionate.

I had drank to much...

It was so nice to be able to
talk about that.

I was also flattered because
a great actress was listening.

I thought it would be alright
to tell it, if it would help you.

But that is terrible, really?
Total exhibitioniscm!

Elisabeth, I want you to forgive me.

I value you very much, you mean
so much to me.

I have learned so much from you,
I don't want us to separate like
enemies.

Don't you want to forgive me!
You have to much pride!

You are not humiliating yourself,
because you don't have to do it.

I will not do it! I will not do it!

We don't speak,

we don't listen, we don't understand...

Elisabeth?

What does it mean to be able...?

When you sleep your face is
flaccid.

The face is swollen and ugly.

You have an ugly wrinkle on the
face.

You smell of sleep and tears .

I see your pulse beat
on your throat.

You have a scar that you
normally cover with makeup.

¡Elisabeth!

¡Elisabeth!

Is calling again.

I will find out what they want
from us.

Here, far, in our solitude.

¡Elisabeth!

Elisabeth?

Sorry if I have frightened you.

I am not Elisabeth.

I don't come here asking you
for anything.

I didn't want to bother you.

You think I don't understand?

The doctor explained things.

The most difficult is explaining
to the child.

I do what I can.

There something that lies deep
that is difficult to see.

You love someone; to be exact,
you say you love someone.

It is incomprehensible. Intangible,
like words, that's it.

Mrs. Vogler, I am not your wife.

YOu are also loved.

You have created a small
sisterhood.

It generates security.

Do you see the posibility of it lasting,
isn't it like that?

How can I say everything that I have
thought without loosing myself,

without borring you?

I love you,
just as I had loved you before.

No, don't be so anxious,
my loved one.

We have each other.

We have faith, we know our
mutual thoughts.

We love another.
It is true, right?

The most important thing is the
effort, not what we obtain, right?

See each other like children.
Defenceless, tormented, alone...

Elisabeth...

Tell the boy that I will go soon.

That mom has been sick,

but that she has been longing
to see her little one.

Remember to buy him a gift
from mommy.

You know that I have so much
tenderness for you...

It is almost dificult to bear.

I don't know what to do with
my tenderness.

I live of from kindness.

Elisabeth, do you like being
with me?

is it nice?

You are a wonderful lover,
you know that.

and I love you...

Curse me! Please leave me !

¡No, I can't!
I can't endure it anymore!

Leave me in peace! It is a shame!
Everything is a shame!

Leave me in peace!

¡Estoy fría, podrida e indiferente!

Everything is a lie or imitations!
Everything!

Elisabeth,

What do you have there?

What are you hiding under your hand?
Let me see.

It the picture of your boy,
the one you had torn.

We should talk about it.

Tell me about it, Elisabeth.

Then I will do it.

It was one night at a party,
right?

It was late and very loud.

The dawn was approaching,
and someone in the group said:

"Elisabeth, like a woman and an
artist you have it...

practically everything under
your belt,

but you lack motherly
feelings."

You laughed becuase you thought
that it was nonsense.

After a while, you started to
think about what he said.

It worried you more and more.

You let your husband impregnate
you.

You wanted to be a mother.

When you found out that it
was true, you became afraid.

The responsibility frightened you,
to be tied, to leave the theatre.

The pain scared you, death,

that your body would swell.

But you acted out the role.

The role of a future young
and happy mother.

The whole world said:
"She is so beautiful."

"She has never been so beautiful"

Mean while, you tried to abort
several times.

But you failed.

When you saw that it was
irreversible,

you started to hate the baby
and wanted a still birth.

You wished that the baby was
dead.

You wanted a dead baby.

It was a long and difficult birth.

You were in pain for several
days.

Finally, the baby was born using
forceps.

You saw with disgust and terror
your crying child and murmurred:

"Can't you die soon?"
"Can you die?"

But he survived.

The boy cried day and night.

And you hated him.

You were afraid and felt guilty.

Finally relatives and a sitter
took care of the baby.

You could now get up from bed
and return to theatre.

But your pain had not ended.

The boy saw himself trapped by
an inmeasurable love for his mother.

You defend yourself.

You defend yourself desperately.

You feel that you can't
correspond.

And you try and keep trying,

but between you there is only
cruel and rough encounters.

You can't do it.
You are cold and indifferent.

He looks at you.

He loves you and he is so
tender...

You want to hit him,
because he doesn't live you alone.

You think he is repulsive, with
his thick lips and ulgy body ,

with his wet and begging eyes.

He is repulsive and you are
afraid.

What are you hiding under
your hand?

Let me see.

It is the picture of your boy,
the one you tore.

We should talk about it.

Tell me about it, Elisabeth.

Then I will do it.

It was a night at a party,
right?

It was late and loud.

Dawn was approaching and
someone from the group said:

"Elisabeth, like a woman and
and artist you have it

practically everything under
your belt,

but you lack motherly feelings."

You laughed because you thought
it was nonsense.

After a while, you started
to think about what he said.

It worried you more and more.

You let your husband impregnate
you.

You wanted to be a mother.

When you found out that it was
true, you became afraid.

The responsibility frightened you,

to be tied, to leave the
theatre.

The pain scare you, death,

that your body would swell.

But you played the role.

The role of a future young and
happy mother.

The whole world said:
"You are so beautiful.

You've never been so beautiful."

Mean while, you tried to abort
several times.

But you failed.

When you saw that it was irreversible

You started to hate the baby

and you wished a still birth.

You wished that the baby
would die.

You wanted a dead baby.

It was a long and difficult
birth.

You were in pain for several
days.

Finally, the baby was born
using forceps.

You was with disgust and terror
your crying child and murmurred:

"Can't you die soon?"
"Can you die?"

The day cried day and night

and you hated him.

You were afraid and felt guilty.

Finally some relatives and a sitter
took care of the baby.

You could now get up from bed
and return to theatre.

But the suffering did not end.

The boy was trapped with an
inmeasurable love for his mother.

You defend desperately.

You feel that you can't correspond.

And you try and keep trying,

but between you there is only
cruel and rough encounters.

You can't do it.

You are cold and indifferent.

He looks at you.

He loves us and is tender...

You want to hit him because
he doesn't leave you in peace.

You think he is repulsive, with
his thick mouth and ugly body,

with his wet and begging eyes.

He is repulsive and you are afraid.

No!

I am not like you.

I do not feel like you.

I am Sister Alma,
I am only here to help you.

I am not Elisabeth Vogler!

You are Elisabeth Vogler!

I would like to have...!

I adore...!

I don't have...

I've learnt so much.

We'll see how long I can last.

I will never be like you, never.
I change all the time.

You can do whatever you like,
it won't affect me.

Talking is useless.

Put out the candle.

It is like being another.

Now no, no. No, no.

Cautious and outside time.
Unforseen.

When it was supossed to occur,
it didn't, and therefore, failed.

Stay where you are!
But I should do it.

Not inward, no...
Get ready and tell the others...

The inconsolable and, maybe...

Here, yes...

But, what is closer...?

What do you call it...?

No, no, no...

Us, our, you, me...

Many words and such nausea...
Incomprehensible pain.

Now listen to me.
Repeat after me.

Nothing...

Nothing.

No, nothing...

Nothing.

That's it.

That's good.

That's how it should be.