Fanny and Alexander

Mother?

Alexander... What is it?

Would you like

to play cards before dinner?

FANNY AND ALEXANDER

This will be

our forty-third Christmas together.

- My dear Ester, is that true?

- Yes, 43 Christmases.

- Well, well, who'd have thought it?

- Yes, it's strange.

Dear Ester...

- Good evening, Mrs Ekdahl.

- Good evening, girls.

Alida, you may

go in to the other girls.

- Why are you so sullen?

- I'm not sullen.

- You're sullen every Christmas.

- I don't know what you mean.

You're sullen, and that's that!

Old b*tch...

"Worthy Joseph, do not fear

Thy angel is thee ever near

I come in haste to bring thee word

From thy creator and thy God

Mary and the child now wake

And quickly into safety take

Herod with his murdering hand

Threatens every man-child

in this land

All this I have noted well

And shall do as you foretell

Praised be God upon his throne

Who thus protects my only son

Thus, good people, ends our play

It all ends well this holy day

The son of God, saved from the sword

Is our Saviour, Christ, the Lord

We know that in his mercy mild

He guards

every woman, man and child

A time of joyous Christmas cheer

We wish to all, both far and near

Let no one into darkness fall

A Merry Christmas one and all!"

By tradition, the Ekdahl family treats

the company to a Christmas party.

The guests are rather a mixed lot,

quite different than the class

of people who dine here.

Nevertheless, refrain from displays

of priggishness and disapproval.

I expect a spirit of generosity,

warmth, and helpfulness.

Have I made myself clear?

Alma and Petra, take the hamper.

I'll take the punch bowl.

Are we ready?

Forward march!

Come, Carlchen. We mustn't

disappoint Mama again and be late.

Come along...

Hurry up now. Come on.

Come with me...

Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas, Oscar!

Please, help yourselves!

Go ahead... Don't be shy!

My dear friends...

For twenty-two years,

in the capacity of theatre manager,

I have stood before you

and held a Christmas speech.

In spite of my lack of talent...

...in that department.

Particularly

when compared to my father,

who was brilliant at making speeches.

And who...

My sole talent,

if you can call it a talent in my case,

is that I love this little world.

The little world inside

the thick walls of this playhouse.

And I'm fond of the people

who work in this little world.

The outside world is bigger,

and occasionally this little world

succeeds in reflecting the bigger one.

Helping us to understand it

a little bit better.

Or perhaps we give

the people who come here

the opportunity

to forget it for a while...

...for a brief second or two.

A few brief seconds where they can

forget the harsh world out there.

Our theatre is a little...

...a small space filled

with orderliness, conscientiousness...

...and love.

I really don't know why I feel...

...so comically solemn this evening.

When you have

given Ismael his dinner,

put out the lights in the shop

and lock the door.

I have the key with me.

- Good night, Aron.

- Good night, Uncle Isak.

Oh, Isak...

Merry Christmas.

I can't imagine where everyone is,

they should have been here ages ago.

I expect Oscar

is making a long, dull speech.

- I think I can hear them out front.

- Ester, bring me my furs.

Here comes my family.

Merry Christmas, Grandmama.

Merry Christmas.

Dear Mama, you look radiant.

Lovely...

What is it, my sweet?

Aunt Emma, how nice to see you.

Welcome, Aunt Emma.

The only question

is where Carl and Lydia could be.

- Maybe they mistook the hour.

- Christmas dinner is always at 4:30.

Alexander, go ring Uncle Carl's

doorbell and see if they're in.

- Please hurry, Carlchen.

- Shut up!

We're so very late,

and it happens every year...

- I'm doing this for your sake.

- No more now, mein Carlchen.

And it's for the last time, too...

- Mama!

- Hello, Carl.

Merry Christmas.

Well, at last we can have dinner.

- Fancy a visit this evening, Maj?

- Go on, sir...

- How are you, sir?

- I'm fine.

I do believe I should

give the girls a hand with the tree.

Have you noticed that my old man

has begun to court Maj?

- Doesn't it bother you?

- No, I find it rather sweet.

Come here, children.

Uncle Carl is going to treat you

to some Christmas fireworks.

All right, then...

Number one!

Here comes number two.

And now... for number three!

Alexander...

bring over the candlestick.

"It came to pass in those days,

that there went

out a decree from Caesar Augustus,

that all the world be taxed.

And his taxing was first made when

Cyrenius was governor of Syria.

And all went to be taxed,

every one into his own city.

And Joseph also went up from Galilee,

out of the city of Nazareth,

into Judaea,

to the city of David

which is called Bethlehem;

because he was

of the house and lineage of David.

To be taxed with Mary his espoused

wife, being great with child."

You...!

- Do you give in?

- No!

Oh, sorry about the mess...

Come upstairs,

and you'll get a Christmas box.

Thank you, ma'am.

Now then, children, go to bed.

Hurry up, Alexander.

Straight into bed with you!

Say your prayers.

"This has been a happy day,

now I come to you and pray.

Bless Papa, Mama and Grandmama,

my brothers, sisters, cousins,

my uncles and aunts,

Vega, Ester, Maj, Siri, Berta,

Alida, Lisen, Uncle Isak,

and everyone else. Amen."

Good night...

- Good night.

- Sweet dreams.

Putte kisses like a real man.

Alexander,

look what I got for Christmas!

Look what Mrs Ekdahl gave me!

Aren't I madly beautiful?

I look like a real lady, don't I?

You can't sleep in my bed tonight,

because I'll be having a caller.

And I can't fit any number

of men in my bed, you know.

But you're my sweetheart.

You do know that, don't you?

Well, it's time to turn in.

We must get up early tomorrow.

Carl...

Carlchen, wake up.

It's time to go home.

Good night, Mama.

I'll just give Carl a hand.

- It's time to go home.

- Here we go...

Good night, Mother.

Good night, Mama.

"There she lies, the beautiful girl,

poor little Arabella.

Little does she know what awaits her.

She is all alone in the big house.

Her mother is dead, and her father is

carousing with unsavoury companions.

Who comes there

at the stroke of midnight?

Dread seizes me...

What is this terrifying white figure

floating there on the moonbeams

and drawing near my bed?

'Tis the spirit of my dead mother."

Now settle down!

Go to sleep! Good night.

I thought the nursery

smelled of paraffin oil...

- There's no paraffin lamp in there.

- That's what it smelt like.

Here you go, Isak.

I made us some nice strong coffee.

A vast improvement on Vega's

awful dishwater. Here.

What can the time be? Ten past three?

That means we have two whole hours

before I must change for church.

My, it's nice to have you here!

You're my best friend.

Whatever would I do without you?

Last year, I enjoyed Christmas...

This year all I wanted to do was cry.

I suppose I'm getting old.

Rate this script:3.8 / 4 votes