Festen Page #4

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We can't just leave.

Christian, are you mad?

Christian, can you hear me?

Are you mad, Christian?

Make sure nobody goes home.

Yes, sick... he's sick, damn it.

For the last time!

I have phoned...

- Get me a taxi.

- Just a moment.

I can't take it.

I already suffer

from depression.

There'll be no taxis.

No, I'll walk.

"Here comes the Danish summer... "

I've had it with these family do's.

- Bent, have you seen the car keys?

- No, I haven't.

We're leaving

but I can't find our keys.

I can't take it.

I'm depressed and...

The number you're calling

is still engaged.

- There is an eleven month wait.

- May I speak to Kim?

Lars, just take it easy, OK?

... Hide those car keys!

In the oven.

In the fridge.

They've gone.

Where the hell is Michelle?

Eh?

Michelle!

Come in, damn it.

Michael, I want a word.

With you, too.

- You must leave.

- No. We're going to talk now.

- Mette, you know what happened?

- I want a word with you.

In here.

Come on.

- Let go of me.

- Calm down, right?

- What the hell do you want?

- Last year you promised me.

You came to me at night.

And now you won'

even give me the time of day.

I'm sorry, right?

Damn it -

I've got my wife here.

Funnily enough she's never

been that important before.

You know I got pregnant, right?

Don't worry, I got rid of it, right?

I just thought you should know.

Listen, it's my old man's sixtieth

and things are going amok.

Hello there.

Hi, bent. Bloody hell.

Is this your room?

I was just leaving.

Seen my car keys?

I'll have a quick look, OK?

Sure you haven't seen them?

I'll get depressed

unless I find them.

I know, I know.

Bent, run along downstairs, right?

Pack your gear and go home, right?

Here's your wages.

Now just push off, get it?

You're as sick in the head

as your dad.

Don't diss my family, get it?

What if I got up and said

a couple of words instead?

About you?

About how sick you were as a child?

About the way you always spoiled

things for the other children?

Burning their toys in front of them?

About the warped soul

you've always been?

I could also tell them how your

mum and dad had to go to France -

- to extricate you

from that sanatorium -

- where you lay, sick in

the head as ever, pumped full -

- of medicine,

to your mother's despair.

I could also mention your

lack of talent with women.

Lovely women

you let go by year after year -

- because there is

so little man in you.

I could also make a speech

about you and your sister.

What do you say to that?

Did she ever say

goodbye to you, eh?

No. Was there a card? A letter?

No. Nothing.

There was for the rest of us.

And maybe there was a reason why.

Because you just left, as usual.

Left your sick sister.

She kept asking for you, -

- and rushing to the phone every

time it rang; But it was never you.

As ever, you were only interested

in yourself and your sick mind.

Now you sling mud at the family that

only ever wanted the best for you.

Your mother thinks you should go.

She wants to see you no more.

But I think

you should stay right here -

- and feel what it is like

to spit in your family's face.

After that little

intermezzo pianissimo -

- I think we should return

to the dinner table.

Ich habe Hunger.

Ladies and gentlemen...

They're ready... I don'

think Christian is very happy.

OK. Venison and cranberry, go!

Cheers, granddad.

Yes, it was a superduper speech.

You keep yelling into my ear.

We're still here.

Salt and pepper! Cheers!

Champagne, we must have

champagne... and caviar.

If the birthday boy is my dnisches

Vater, Else is my dnisches Mutter.

Everyone's mutti,

Else, over to you.

Give her a hand!

Thank you, Helmuth, thank you all.

I want to say how much

I appreciate your coming today.

I also want to say a word or two

to thank my husband, my Helge.

Though it may be hard,

as I can hardly find the words -

- to describe what

you have meant -

and mean to me.

But with your appetite for life

and infinite care for your family, -

- you have given me

everything a wife could wish for.

We've had thirty lovely years.

Thank you.

I think I'll take the opportunity to

say a word or two to my children.

I think it is fantastic to see

how well you have done, -

- especially when I consider

how little you once were.

Michael, you are our youngest,

our Benjamin.

Not that we've seen

that much of you.

You were away from home from

an early age; First, boarding school.

Then the school ship,

then catering school in Switzerland.

You never did become a chef, -

but who knows?

At any rate you have given us

three splendid grandchildren -

- whom your father and I

are so grateful for.

And of course

we thank your little Mette.

Helene, the family loner.

You really are, Helene.

Ever since you informed us -

- that you'd decided

to become a singer -

- and had joined the Trotsk... the

young socialists, I think it was -

- we've known you would

choose your own path.

And you certainly have.

In life as well as your studies.

You've ended up in anthropology.

Most interesting, -

- although your father and I

had hoped you'd choose law.

But goodness,

the contacts you haven't had -

- with foreign

countries and peoples -

- aren't worth mentioning.

In that connection -

- I'd like to extend

a warm welcome to Gonzales.

- Mummy, his name is Gbatokai.

- Yes.

Yes... welcome, Kai!

Then there is you, Christian.

You have always been quite special.

A creative child.

The stories Christian

could tell when he was small!

I always thought you'd make

a really good author one day.

When Christian was small,

for all of you who don't know, -

- he had a loyal companion

called snoot, -

who didn't exist.

But snoot and Christian

were inseparable.

If snoot didn't like something,

nor did Christian.

If you were the one

at the receiving end, -

- there was nothing

you could do about it.

But dear Christian, -

- it is so important to be able

to distinguish fact from fiction.

I think you've always

had trouble doing so.

Of course you can be angry

with father; I am sometimes, too.

But it has to be

sorted out in private.

Telling stories like

those you've told this evening, -

- however exciting they may be

... And they were exciting...

Maybe a bit too much.

Christian, I think that

snoot has been with you today -

- and quite frankly, I think

you both rather upset your father.

So I think it would be

appropriate if you stood up -

- leaving snoot in his seat...

And gave your father an apology.

It won't detract from you

to say sorry.

It would be quite all right.

Christian, you may stand up now.

Come on, Christian,

get your f***ing act together!

- He's sick in the head, mum.

- Christian?

I'm sorry to disturb you again.

In 1974 you, my mother,

came into the study -

- to see your son on all fours

and your husband with no pants on.

I'm sorry you saw me like that.

And that your husband -

- told you to get out

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