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De kleine blonde dood Page #4
- Year:
- 1993
- 95 min
- 33 Views
What are you doing here?
Have a look. At you two.
I saw a lady from the Guardianship
Board yesterday.
They were well informed.
About holidays, about Micky's birthday
that I didn't celebrate.
About that I hit him.
What did I do wrong?
What did I do wrong by loving you?
I've always been honest with you.
I've always left all options open.
Anything you wanted.
Mieke, I don't love you.
How can you say that if you don't
know what love is?
a great dad.
And now you believe it yourself
and you want it...
without me.
Why?
It's not fair.
Life isn't fair.
I've found that out too.
Just wait. Just you wait.
What's wrong?
- Nothing.
Put on your pyjamas.
It's very late.
What's wrong?
My father died.
- My granddad.
Yes, get undressed.
Now I can never see him.
You didn't see him often either.
Get undressed, damnit.
And collect your toys. We won't
have time tomorrow morning.
Hello, Valentijn Boecke?
A package for you.
Please sign.
Why do you throw that out?
- I'll fill up a bath for you.
And you just said I didn't need to.
What are you doing? Go to bed.
Raus, raus, raus!
Did you open my box?
Tell me.
What did you see?
Tell me!
A baby and you.
And a woman and you in front
of a plane.
Where's that baby now?
Where is that baby? Dead.
Where is that woman? My woman.
Dead.
And where are all the people in
the picture?
Dead. And who killed them?
The Nazis.
Idiot, Dummkopf!
Did the Nazis bomb Danzig?
Did the Nazis bomb their own cities?
Of course not.
Who wiped out Danzig?
The good guys, the bombers,
the heroes.
I bombed Danzig!
Daddy, daddy.
What's that?
- Micky, my son.
How could you do that?
Dummkopf.
Idiot.
Dummkopf, didn't you learn anything
from me?
Why did you give me the box then?
- Because I'm...
Daddy, what's wrong?
What's wrong?
- Go away.
Daddy, what's wrong?
When will you be back from Paris?
- In two days.
Will you be good?
- Dd says I can stay up late.
And I can drink chocolate milk all day.
- Well, well.
I have to hang up.
I'm out of money.
Will you bring me a present from Paris?
- Well...
Yes, please.
- Bye, Mick.
Bye daddy.
- Bye.
Hey, what are you doing here?
Come in. We'll explain.
What happened? Where's Micky?
- Just come in.
Why, surprise?
at the school.
She felt alone.
She said it was her birthday.
She wanted to do something nice
with Micky.
She kept him.
Well done, Dd.
- He's no longer with Mieke.
He's in hospital.
- He fell off the stairs at her place.
How could he fall off the stairs?
How could he?
How could he, damnit?
Admit it!
He hasn't even been inside.
He fell just like that.
as if...
We were just about to go in and...
No, it's not my fault.
I didn't do anything.
Right, it's my fault.
- No, it's not daddy's fault.
It's not your fault.
Everything's my fault.
Daddy never gets angry. Daddy
never hits you.
Daddy has nice boyfriends and
girlfriends.
What a daddy.
You can't understand that a daddy like
that ever put his willie...
into a mummy like that.
Yuck, stupid daddy.
Mieke... Mieke...
Valentijn?
Valentijn?
Valentijn, for Micky.
Vitamins.
Mr Boecke, you have to wear a coat.
I'll call the doctor for you.
His fall from the stairs was probably
a secondary trauma.
Just like you can have a car accident
because of a heart attack.
Your son has probably had that tumour
in his head for years.
And suddenly it burst.
That's the best way I can explain it.
That's why he's in a coma.
Did he often have headaches or
dizzy spells?
Sometimes. Ouch in my head.
Eat something.
Bear Bob grumbled and waddled through
the dark forest.
Further and further.
Until he almost couldn't see anything.
Then he stopped.
'Help, I'm lost', he said.
It was bear Bob talking softly.
Please.
Was he a sweet kid?
- He is a sweet kid.
He feels warm and soft.
He looks like he's shrinking.
- He is.
He's being fed artificially. That makes
him shrink a bit.
Don't stay too late. You have to
If anything happens, we'll
call you.
It was bear Bob talking.
He couldn't grumble anymore.
Valentijn Boecke speaking.
- You had a deadline.
You know our deal. This is
unacceptable.
A deadline is a deadline.
So there's no more hope?
Humanly speaking not.
- What do you mean humanly?
Ignore I said that.
Your son's dead.
Then why is he attached to all those
machines and tubes?
He's breathing.
- We can keep doing this for years.
We?
You mean Micky can keep doing this
for years.
No, we can keep doing this
for years.
Your son has no will anymore.
His breathing is our will.
Does his mother also have to give
permission if...
Strictly speaking, nobody can give
permission. It's not allowed.
But what we're doing now leads
to nothing.
It doesn't do your son any good.
Or you.
Pull the plug? Flip the switch?
Like that?
That's it.
You don't have to decide now.
Just think about it for a weekend.
Yes, we'll just think about it
for a weekend.
Jerk!
This doesn't work, does it?
But I thought of everything.
See what happens.
I'm going home. Bye.
Good music, Valentijn.
Can I keep it?
Mick!
Nurse!
Nurse, nurse!
Nurse, he woke up.
He opened his eyes and
started talking.
He can't talk. He has a tube in
his throat.
But I heard it myself.
There has been no change.
Not just now and not in
the past hour.
Not for weeks... months.
Look for yourself.
I'm not crazy!
We'll always stay together.
Shake hands on it.
Word of honour.
Little blond hero.
Does he feel this?
Your son's asleep.
If we stop the artificial processes,
he'll sleep deeper and deeper.
He doesn't feel anything.
Can't you give him an anaesthetic
anyway?
If you want.
Yes, better do it.
Very wise of you, Mr Boecke.
One more thing, though.
Have you said goodbye?
I can't say goodbye.
You should. It's better for you.
I want to stay with him.
We'd prefer not.
After we've removed everything,
you can be with him.
And afterwards you can arrange some
practical things with the nurse.
I'll do it myself.
That's out of the question.
You weren't there when I made him
either. I'm responsible for him.
So can I put him down myself?
That's out of the question.
It's not wise and it's impossible.
But it's what I feel, Mick.
It's what I feel.
Please go with the nurse.
Valentijn, this is useless.
Stop it.
I don't want to keep any of
his things.
You can't throw them out.
Shut up, damnit!
Get lost! Now!
Hold tight, kid
Mummy
Loud, please.
Louder, damnit. Louder!
Micky had this one with him,
that evening.
He wanted me to put it in a frame.
It's for you.
We'll be going 100 kilometres
per hour, won't we?
- No!
You don't need to worry.
Nothing can go wrong.
When did you learn to tie your
shoelaces?
A long time ago. It's easy.
Easy? Are you saying that all
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"De kleine blonde dood" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 1 Sep. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/de_kleine_blonde_dood_11926>.
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