Dreams That Money Can Buy Page #3

Synopsis: After learning how to look inside himself, a poetic bum sells people vivid dreams.
Director(s): Hans Richter
  1 win & 1 nomination.
 
IMDB:
6.9
APPROVED
Year:
1947
99 min
136 Views


and tell him you don't have any reactions ?

You're living in a shell. This is all nonsense.

Although it is an interesting picture.

The girl has such a sweet face.

Reminds me of myself when I was a girl.

Where is the girl I was ?

Lost in a million lunches, teas, benefits,

charities, matinees.

Who would ever remember me as I was,

silly and romantic ?

Does this man see that ?

Nonsense. It's all nonsense.

But I wrote poetry once.

Where did the poems in me disappear to ?

When did I begin to build this shell around me ?

If I could only break it into bits, break it into bits.

Break it into bits, break it into bits.

Break it into bits, break it into bits...

For you, my forbearing one, my sister.

High-breasted organ

of the prolonged night veneration,

hiding all the heavens within its grace.

Prepare for vengeance

the bed from which I shall be born.

Why do you look at me

as if I were some foreigner...

...who speaks a strange language,

who refuses to assimilate himself

to your familiar ways ?

You know perfectly well that you can be as

easily seduced by an exotic prince

as by one of your own colloquial yokels.

You are a pendulum

that clicks like a metronome

in the space minutes of two inches,

risking the same destruction

that threatens your victims.

Hm. I laugh with you.

But only in risk is an escape possible.

Those who have assured themselves

against all risks are bound to lose all.

Good evening.

We are going to have the privilege tonight

of witnessing one of the most unusual films

ever produced.

Whatever it may lack

in the way of sound and colour,

you may supply out of your own conversations,

and by looking at me.

But, for the real success of this presentation,

I earnestly implore you to collaborate

even more actively.

You all know the principal character in this film.

You have every confidence in him,

and in the economy of his gestures.

To give these gestures their full meaning,

I earnestly request you to follow and to repeat

these gestures as they occur.

Are we agreed ?

Thank you.

All we need now is a revolver.

You see. It's like this book.

People look at one side -

that's for details that are more prosaic :

Title, subject matter, country of origin, language.

But look carefully at the other side

and you will see the real significance,

including the exact date of the writing.

Any comments, ma'am ?

Definitely not.

And don't write my name, please.

I'll pay in cash.

Goodbye.

Wait ! Don't go out that way !

Lady ?

Lady !

Lady !

Close the door.

Get over there. Sit down.

What's on his mind ?

Looks like an emergency case.

- Oh, I see.

- Do something.

Not exactly your line, Joe.

To anybody what unlocks dreams,

handcuffs should be a snap.

So they are.

Amazing !

Now what ?

A light.

A light ? Sure. The customer's always right.

Here's the problem, Joe.

He has no conscience,

he has no subconscience.

That's why he wants to have a dream.

Now, this is a paradox.

Why should an extrovert, a man of action

like this customer, need your services ?

Maybe there's something to this brain racket.

Maybe a dream can tip off

who's going to win the derby this year.

It won't ?

Well, it better had !

He wants what he wants when he wants it.

Only, how can you look into somebody

who won't relax ?

Well, that's one way to relax.

Thank you very much, sir.

OK, bub. You'll get what you asked for.

Let's hope it works.

Imagine an active type like that

having such a delicate dream.

If he wasn't so much of an extrovert,

he might have been a poet.

No tips for the races, huh ?

What do you hand me ?

A lot of dames and no horses.

A waste of my time. Fine. You pay me.

Business is business.

What's going on here ?

Got a licence ?

There's nobody here, Grandpa.

Let's go in and wait. He'll be back.

Play, dear. Grandpa's going to play too.

Anything wrong, Grandpa ?

Private practice

has its disadvantages, hasn't it ?

Now a blind man and a child.

You're a dream dealer ?

I want to sell you one of mine.

I have so many, you see.

- It's a deal, son.

- It's a deal, Grandpa.

Goodbye.

Goodbye.

- Goodbye.

Are you waiting for me ?

I was born. Not very much was said about it.

There was a trolley car rattling down the street

at the time.

My father earned a good living.

Ours was a normal family.

I'm a normal man.

Rather dark, of average size,

and with excellent teeth.

If you studied my teeth,

you would know me thoroughly.

Or my hair, or hands, or legs.

Then all of a sudden there's a big explosion.

Who's responsible ?

Nobody knows.

One day we must all face the great disaster.

One day, in May, it suddenly happened.

I met myself.

I was not prepared for it

when the unspeakable became true.

My senses were numb.

I felt nothing. I said nothing.

Then I tried to reason it out.

Blue. Why is blue worse than green,

violet or white ?

I don't know.

Or white better than violet, green or blue ?

Hard to think.

Whatever it is, you retreat into yourself.

It is the final retreat

that makes everything so puzzling.

Neither your newspaper, nor your doctor,

your car, your wife,

nor your work can enlighten you.

I've always been a decent, law-abiding citizen.

Never crossed the street against the lights.

But now all the lights are out.

Yes, but blue ! Would you want to sit

at the same table with a blue man ?

- Joe or no Joe, friend or not.

- Fling him out !

- I wouldn't go so fast.

- You wouldn't ?

Blue or not blue. I don't like it. Joe or no Joe.

- Why didn't he stay in Atlantis ?

- Throw him back in the ocean.

- Why's he in our cellar ?

- Let him build a cellar for himself.

Sorry, sir, you have to leave. It's you or us.

They left me alone.

And the coldness crept over me.

Even familiar objects

became strange and unfriendly.

I had always suspected

they led a private life of their own.

"Help me, Father," I said.

But there was no help.

There was only fear.

Everything was cold.

It was like snow falling on my hat

and on my heart.

I tried to figure out what had happened.

In an emergency there are a few things

you can count on.

The metronome in yourself.

On mother's piano.

The sound of the big clock

over the mantelpiece.

The repeated agonies of love.

The invasion of Holland, May 10th, 1940.

My situation became clearer

because everything else became unclear.

The blue thread of hope

will lead me out of the labyrinth.

Where to ?

Never mind.

I had to go, and so I did.

- Where do you think you're going ?

- Easy does it, mister.

Business is bad. No room for competition.

Restrictions have to be imposed

in the interests of all.

The right of being in everybody's way

is everybody's right.

- The right of left.

- The right of right.

- Wrong of right.

- Right to walk his own way.

The right to hit somebody over the head

because he walks his own ways.

Easy does it, mister.

Or you may lose your way altogether.

Where do you think you're going ?

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Hans Richter

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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