Lust for Life Page #9

it could be fatal to him.

Will you need me for anything more?

No, I guess not.

I'll notify his brother.

What do you want here?

Nothing better to do than hang around

cluttering up the square?

Why don't you go home

and leave the man alone?

He's sick and he needs rest!

This is no sideshow!

You ought to be ashamed of yourselves!

Go on home! Go on!

Leave me alone!

- Come on, redhead!

- Leave me alone!

What happened to the other ear?

Vincent, I've just been with Dr. Rey.

You're doing very well.

Quite soon, now, you'll be able to travel.

- Johanna and I want you to...

- Theo.

I want to have myself committed.

I want to go to an asylum.

I have to, Theo.

One more of these attacks

could leave me helpless...

like a crab on its back.

Unable even to do away with myself.

You could come and live with us

in Paris and have a reasonable life.

I'll see that none of this

ever happens again.

How, Theo?

Will you and Johanna

take turns watching me...

to make sure

the symptoms aren't coming back?

When your baby's born...

I'm a danger to others,

I'm a danger to myself.

Believe me, I'll be better off in an asylum.

Vincent, don't. You mustn't think like that.

Find a place for me to go. Please.

Don't be sad. It won't be for long.

Just long enough for me

to find a little order in my life.

A little peace.

Yes, your brother has stated the case

most clearly...

including the fact that you have

voluntarily committed yourself here.

Now, you know, mental disease

is no different from any other ailment...

you might have contracted.

And these hallucinations you speak of,

once you recognize them...

as the normal accompaniment

of disturbances of this sort...

whether congenital or acquired...

once you accept your state for what it is,

half the terror has gone out of it.

- You do see that, don't you?

- Of course.

Beyond that, peace and rest.

Regular routine in agreeable surroundings.

You know, in this entire institution

at the moment...

we've no more than11 male patients.

The food is plain but healthy.

And above all, it is quiet. Yes.

Yes, it is quiet.

Now, here is our superintendent.

And this is Mr. Vincent van Gogh

from Holland.

Now, why don't you

take Mr. Van Gogh to his room...

and let him know

some of our rules and habits.

No, we'll store those away for you

for a little while...

until you see what you need. Yes.

Meanwhile, any time you need me...

...mutilated his left ear.

In view of the above...

and in the light of my examination

of the patient...

it is my professional opinion...

that it will be necessary

for Mr. Van Gogh...

to undergo extended observation

and treatment...

in this institution.

Signed, Dr. Peyron,

dated Saint-Rmy, May 9, 1889.

Van Gogh, Vincent, June 14.

The patient's condition

appears satisfactory...

with continued improvement.

Continues to suffer, however,

from a condition of chronic inertia...

accompanied by symptoms

of extreme terror.

Would you like me to open the window?

The view is lovely from here.

General condition of patient: Fair.

Non-violent.

He has requested

that his painting equipment...

and other personal effects...

be placed in his room.

Request granted.

It's beautiful.

But the mower? Is he imaginary?

There's no one in that field.

That's just any man struggling in the heat

to finish his work.

It's the figure of death.

- It doesn't seem a sad death.

- It's not, Sister.

It happens in the bright daylight...

with the sun flooding everything

in a light of pure gold.

It would appear

that painting is beneficial...

perhaps even necessary...

for this patient's well-being.

Provided, of course...

that he is not permitted to indulge...

in those excesses of work and emotion...

that induced his former crisis.

This latest seizure was the most severe...

and prolonged...

that your brother has suffered to date.

As a result of constant attention...

and observation...

he is today approaching physical recovery.

He now expresses the desire

to leave this institution...

with the intention of taking up residence

in the north.

And since you support him...

in this request...

he will be discharged...

as soon as he is considered fit to travel.

- Vincent.

- Hello, Johanna.

- It's good to see you.

- It's about time.

You're just as pretty as I thought you'd be.

Don't you think he looks well, Theo?

- He looks better than I do.

- Where's that baby?

- When do I get to see him?

- He's asleep...

but since he's your namesake,

you can go in.

You try and keep me out.

I brought him a little present.

I hope he likes it.

- There's your nephew.

- He's a real van Gogh.

When Willemien was here, she said

he looked more like Father than anyone.

No, there's some of Johanna in him.

Look at those hands...

- and see how well-behaved he is.

- Just wait till he gets hungry.

Vincent! Are you all right?

Come sit down.

You'll be all right.

I'm fine. I was dizzy for a moment.

- You're tired.

- I'll get you some coffee.

Thanks, Johanna.

I'm all right, really. It was a long trip.

I left the best news until you got here.

- Your painting of The Red Vineyard.

- What about it?

It sold for 400 francs.

Who bought it?

A painter. Anna Bock.

She lives in Brussels.

That's fine. I'm glad...

Theo, I had no idea

I'd sent you so much stuff.

It certainly adds up.

I've hardly given you room

to move around.

We still have some space

to squeeze a few people in here.

As a matter of fact, I was thinking of

asking some of your friends over tonight.

- Where's Paul?

- He's in Brittany.

But Lautrec, Pissarro, Bernard,

they want to see you.

We ought to celebrate your first sale.

Or would you rather leave it till later?

No, make it tonight.

I think the sooner I get settled in Auvers,

the better.

It isn't as if I were going a long ways off.

Why, you can all come out and see me

on Sunday.

Is everything set there with Dr. Gachet?

- Is he expecting me?

- Pissarro made all the arrangements.

They were here together last week.

- Did they see my new things?

- Gachet got so excited.

He wouldn't leave

until I'd lent him a couple.

- Did you explain to him about me?

- Yes, Vincent, I did.

He seems very confident.

Thanks, Johanna. Good Dutch cookies.

I don't understand you, Theo. With such

fine Dutch cooking in the house...

you know it's about time you

put some flesh on those bones of yours.

I'm really very hopeful, Vincent.

Dr. Gachet's got a very good name...

and he says that...

Dr. Gachet, you see,

that's what I have to know.

Will there be a warning?

Will I have time to...

About those seizures of yours,

do you want my opinion?

Forget them, completely.

Tell yourself you're finished with them...

and work boldly and joyously.

Vincent, you don't know

how lucky you are.

To have done one painting

like that cypress in there...

or those sunflowers

that your brother showed me...

I'd give 10 years of my life.

- Don't you like your wine?

- I don't drink much these days.

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