The Danish Girl Page #2

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FONNESBECH:

I wanted to say... I appreciate our being

alone today. I hope your husband doesn’t

mind.

GERDA:

Not at all. I could see his being here

made you uncomfortable.

FONNESBECH:

It wasn’t personal.

Gerda smiles. Shakes her head - he shouldn’t worry:

GERDA:

It’s not uncommon.

FONNESBECH:

Ah.

Fonnesbech’s relieved. Though he’s left with questions.

GERDA:

It’s hard for a man to be looked at by a

woman. Women are used to it, of course,

but for a man...

Mr Fonnesbech begins to look wildly vulnerable.

GERDA (cont’d)

To... submit to a woman’s gaze. It’s

unsettling...

Fonnesbech nods, relieved - that’s exactly it.

(CONTINUED)

26/11/15

7.

CONTINUED:

GERDA (cont’d)

Although I believe there’s some pleasure to

be had from it, once you...

She smiles mischievously.

GERDA (cont’d)

...yield.

Fonnesbech swallows, cheeks pinking. Suddenly:

GERDA (cont’d)

Sit!

Fonnesbech flinches. The dog settles. Fonnesbech exhales.

GERDA (cont’d)

Good girl.

Gerda returns to work, eyes glinting at what she’s revealed

in her sitter:
finally getting somewhere.

EXT. WIDOW HOUSE, MONTHS LATER

A CHINESE LAUNDRESS with a large wheeled cart makes her way

along the street, RINGING a pair of little BELLS as she goes.

INT. WIDOW HOUSE, MORNING

Einar quickly but carefully folds Gerda’s chemise and puts it

in a bag of laundry, hurries to open the door...

INT/EXT. WIDOW HOUSE, EARLY MORNING, A MONTH LATER

Einar hands the bag to the laundress as she passes.

INT. WIDOW HOUSE, BEDROOM, MORNING

Gerda at the mirror, putting on her lipstick. Einar comes

in, reacts, seeing her dressed up. She’s self-conscious.

GERDA:

Well?

Einar can’t help smiling at her implied self-criticism.

EINAR:

Perfect. Almost.

He approaches, uses his thumb to gently blend away a smudge

of lipstick from her bottom lip. He nods. Perfect now.

EINAR (cont’d)

Good luck...

26/11/15

8.

EXT. BUSY COPENHAGEN STREET, DAY

Gerda carries her heavy portfolio, optimistic, brisk.

INT. ART DEALER’S OFFICE, DAY

Rasmussen’s face - a look of slight distaste. A sea of

Gerda’s work, on the desk, the floor - competent but

uninspiring naturalistic depictions of society figures.

RASMUSSEN:

All portraits...

Gerda hesitates a beat, the fact being so self-evident.

GERDA:

Is that bad?

RASMUSSEN:

Not per se, but... this kind of work is not

really my...

He winces a little. He has to end this:

RASMUSSEN (cont’d)

Gerda... I don’t think it would benefit

either of us to show these.

A vein begins to throb in Gerda’s neck.

RASMUSSEN (cont’d)

It’s not a judgement on your abilities - I

agree with Einar: you could be a first

class painter if you found the right

subject matter.

It’s the first time Gerda’s heard this. Her eyes shine,

stung, betrayed.

INT. WIDOW HOUSE, STUDIO, DAY

Einar works, hears the door. Gerda brings in the portfolio,

sets it down, starts taking off her coat. Einar’s tentative:

EINAR:

How was it?

GERDA:

Fine.

He waits for more, but nothing comes.

EINAR:

I finally mixed the right colour for the

snow.

(CONTINUED)

26/11/15

9.

CONTINUED:

Gerda glances at the canvas, hostile.

GERDA:

Another view of Vejle. I don’t know how

you can paint the same thing over and over.

Einar misses a beat.

EINAR:

I suppose I just haven’t finished with it

yet.

Gerda heads towards the door.

EINAR (cont’d)

Gerda..?

GERDA:

Could you please not speak to Rasmussen

about me again... My work is my business.

Stay out of it.

But she disappears into the bedroom, the door slamming

emphatically behind her. Einar’s left bewildered.

INT. BEDROOM, DAY

Gerda’s already regretting the exchange with Einar. She

unfastens her dress, pulls it off. There’s a bloodstain in

her underwear. Damn! She breathes.

INT. STUDIO, DAY

Einar working as Gerda reappears. She’s composed now,

refocused, approaches her easel, organises her paints. Einar

steals a look at her, but says nothing. Works on.

Eventually:

GERDA:

I have my period.

EINAR (O.S.)

I’m sorry.

GERDA:

Are you?

She turns to find him approaching.

EINAR:

Of course I am... You know I am.

A moment of quiet intimacy between them. Gerda shies away,

returns to present concerns... her work...

(CONTINUED)

26/11/15

10.

CONTINUED:

GERDA:

Could you help me with something?

Einar’s relieved to be able to help.

EINAR:

Anything.

GERDA:

Ulla has an extra rehearsal. She cancelled

again. Would you try on her stockings and

shoes?

Einar’s discomfort erupts in a laugh. Is she serious?

GERDA (cont’d)

I’m just so behind. I don’t know how I’ll

be finished in time for her opening...

But he cuts her off:

EINAR:

I’ll do it. It’s fine.

Gerda sets a shoebox and the stocking on the sitter’s chair,

goes into the kitchen. Einar moves the box and stockings,

sits in the chair on the dais. The dog leaps up

EINAR (cont’d)

No... no, not now Hvappe...

He pushes Hvappe down, tests the mesh of the stockings between his

fingers. He rolls up his trousers.

EINAR (cont’d)

He almost snagged this...

Gerda marvels at his delicacy. Scolds the dog:

GERDA:

Hvappe...

Gerda mixes paints. Einar battles with the stockings.

GERDA (cont’d)

That’s backwards...

He fiddles with the second stocking now, a light sweat dewing

his forehead by the time he’s rolled both to the knee. He

opens a shoebox:
- the yellow pair from the shop window.

EINAR:

I saw these in the window of

Fonnesbech’s...

GERDA:

Smart aren’t they?

(CONTINUED)

26/11/15

11.

CONTINUED:

EINAR:

I don’t think they’ll fit...

GERDA:

Well just do what you can.

He takes them out... Something catches in Einar’s throat as

he pushes his toes into the shoe. Gerda’s eyes are narrow as

she starts work. Einar looks down at his feet, partly

contained in the yellow suede, the disjuncture between the

body above and below the knee... he breathes... can’t keep

his hands steady. Then:

GERDA (cont’d)

No. I need the dress.

They both look over to where Ulla’s dress hangs. It is white,

weighted with beads at the hem and cuff. Beautiful.

EINAR:

Gerda, I’m not putting it on.

GERDA:

I haven’t asked you to.

She get sit... lays it across him.

GERDA (cont’d)

Would you just relax...? The sooner I

start, the sooner I finish.

Einar yields reluctantly, as Gerda runs her fingers gently

down his face. Satisfied, Gerda returns to work.

Einar’s breathing feels slightly laboured now. The dress

weighs heavily. His head moves slightly, feeling it brush at

his neck. His fingers curl involuntarily around the beaded

cuff. The SOUNDSCAPE becomes heightened: the creak of

Gerda’s easel, the jangling of her bracelets, the sound of

the harbour, the wind in the ships’ riggings. These combine,

fill his head... until:

ULLA (O.S.)

Well hello, there!

Einar starts... Ulla’s in the doorway, delighted, with a huge

bunch of lilies. She starts to LAUGH, and because it’s Ulla,

Gerda LAUGHS also. The dog YAPS, excited, confused. Einar’s

disoriented. Gerda sees this, stops laughing, but...

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