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One day, Pelle was sleeping.
It was actually dark.
But Father wasn't there.
So he went over to Mother's bed.
But Mother wasn't there either.
Where are Mother and Father?
- Mummy! - Come here.
This is how you speak into it, Björn. Like this.
Can you say "Mummy"? Say "Mummy".
No, you're spoiling the flower.
No, no - you're not to play with it!
Goodbye - off to bed now.
It's 16 November, 1962.
- Hello? - Hi, Björn!
How are you, sweetheart?
- Well, not all that good. - Aren't you?
- Is Mum home? - No.
It's a bitter cold gloomy February day in 1970.
The film director Luchino Visconti is on his way to Stockholm.
One of cinema's most outstanding figures,
he's known both for his artistry and his lineage.
He's from the nobility of northern Italy. He's a Communist, yet he has servants.
And he's openly gay.
Visconti is out, seeking pure beauty -
perfect beauty in a boy who is to play the lead in his new film.
I can't see his eyes. What colour are they?
Look over here.
Green.
He looks lovely - a beautiful face.
Tell him to take some pictures.
For years, he's travelled, searching - in Hungary, Poland, Finland, Russia.
In a large apartment next to the Grand Hôtel in Stockholm
a group of boys have gathered, full of anticipation.
- He is a child actor. - A child actor, is he?
Have you seen anyone you think might work?
No, not yet. Some are really sweet, but we've not got a bullseye yet.
The door is about to open.
A boy, stood behind the door, doesn't yet know
that his entire life is about to change.
His face is to become an icon - all over the world.
How old is he? Older, right?
- Yes, a little. He's 15. - Big. 15? Very beautiful. Turn your head.
In profile.
- He's very beautiful in this photo. - Did you bring any photographs?
No.
Can you walk round the room in a circle?
He's damn tall.
- Beautiful! Ask him to undress. - Could you bare your torso?
- What? - Can you bare your torso?
- So you're half-naked. - Half-naked?
- Look into the camera, too. - Look into the camera and smile a little.
- Very beautiful... - Walk around a bit.
Ask him to stop. Get a big close-up, really tight!
Turn to camera.
Very, very close. Three-quarter shot, not full face.
- Smile into the camera. - Look into the camera and smile.
- You have a lovely smile! - Thank you. We need to take pictures.
Mario! Let's take close-ups, too -
profile right and left, his face, and full on, with naked torso.
He has a beautiful face.
Welcome to Tenants' Association. You'll be given three options.
Choose the one that best suits your needs.
Well, I need legal advice.
What do I do? I know nothing about this stuff.
Explain what's happened and what you need assistance with,
and I'll do what I can to help.
You could say I'm being threatened with eviction...
- ...with termination of contract. - Right.
In the landlord's letter, Björn,
it says that you're a danger to other tenants, since you left the gas stove on.
- That's bullshit! - Sure, but look here...
- I am not careless. I check it every time! - But it's all part of her concern.
Because a filthy kitchen fan...
- ...covered in oil, can easily catch fire. - I realise that.
That is why you are a danger. You have to keep it clean.
Now, it's a matter of explaining why you were lying on the bed,
with the gas burner on. Because she knows that.
And why the gas burner is on when you are not at home.
Your duvet... I lifted it...
And while I held it up it just disintegrated.
It just collapsed into little foam rubber fragments
of old, disgusting, I don't know what.
Wait... I still have a pillow here. Look!
Underneath here. Look!
Bugs have been feeding on this. It's so bloody revolting. Horrible!
And under it there was a layer this thick...
I don't even know what... Pure filth.
It looks like poo...
...from carpet beetles or revolting bugs like that.
Bloody disgusting!
- My home's an environmental hazard. - Right.
It's true.
"Cyclone". What did I mean by that title?
Wow...!
I had run away from this ghastly boarding school in Denmark
and got to Stockholm, to my maternal grandparents.
I didn't have any parents, really.
It was Granny that saw to all this stuff.
She put my name down for all sorts of things.
I don't know - I suppose I just went along with it all.
She wanted a celebrity for a grandchild.
And all I was certain about was that I wanted to play music.
I didn't really have any concept of how big this all was.
It was, of course, great to go abroad,
to a country I'd never been to,
to do some kind of cool extra school-holiday work.
Ecco - a little bit more...
Quiet, please!
Tadzio - that beautiful sculpture of a boy -
is played by Björn Andrésen, a 15-year-old Swedish boy.
Did you know exactly what you were after when you started looking?
Yes, exactly that. Just like him.
- As if you'd had a photograph? - Yes. He was the sixth boy I'd tried.
I knew immediately.
He is blond, with a perfect profile and grey eyes. Can you see his grey eyes?
"The colour of water", as Mr Mann wrote. Just like the colour of these eyes.
He's to be as cold as a statue. He's understood the part. He's perfect.
There's no risk of slipping into sexuality. That would amount to a serious fault.
I was standing next to Visconti, when this blond boy turned up.
It was plain to see
that Visconti's whole body came to life.
The boy was exquisitely beautiful, with a truly photogenic face.
He was a real find.
He was a boy with a very special charisma.
He seems frail.
And that's really beautiful in a film.
You need to be very careful dealing with children like that.
"Death in Venice" is set at a classic hotel on the Lido, an island off Venice:
the Grand Hôtel des Bains.
The story, written by Thomas Mann, had preoccupied Visconti for years.
With the ancient hotel, he creates a perfect turn-of-the-century setting.
To Visconti, "Death in Venice" is a deeply personal narrative.
Granny came along to Venice.
She'd brought a Super 8 cine camera and, of course, she shot everything.
Visconti gave her a small part, which pleased her no end.
I also had a governess - Miriam.
She was meant to help me with my schoolwork.
You were like a younger brother.
whom I was supposed to protect against this new world, new to me as well.
That was my job, as stated in my contract.
I found it pretty hard going.
Someone mentioned that Visconti had issued an order.
Remember, the whole crew were homosexuals.
An order that no one was as much as to to look at little Tadzio.
Without my being aware of it, I was in a sense being protected by "the man".
It's a love story, one that's pure.
It's neither sexual nor erotic.
It's a higher form of love. Let's say...
- Perfection within love. - I imagine, looking for producers...
The story of the love between an aging composer and an adolescent boy...
- That might cause certain problems. - It did.
One producer in particular wanted to cast a girl, to replace Tadzio.
"No," I said,
"I refuse to have a Tadzia." It wouldn't keep to the author's message, right?
You were to be used to illustrate a story that was in no way your story.
People were a bit scared of Visconti. He was a very...
He was a powerful personality
with a severe look and a stern tone of voice when he spoke.
And he was ruthless.
Visconti's directing - as far as he gave me any -
can be reduced to more or less four directions:
Thomas Mann describes Tadzio as having honey-coloured hair,
like a god in Greek mythology.
And the boy is not really human - rather, an angel of death.
On March 1, 1971, "Death in Venice" has its world premiere in London,
in the presence of the queen and Princess Anne.
It is here that Visconti for the first time
declares Björn to be the most beautiful boy in the world.
The description is to stay with Björn
for the rest of his life.
He is "the most beautiful boy in the world".
But two months later "Death in Venice" is shown at the Cannes Film Festival
and everything takes off.
Cannes, 1971, a ritual that's already 25 years old:
Black tie, appropriate smiles, photographers welcoming the stars.
The 25th Festival jury, accompanied by Luchino Visconti.
There is a huge crowd at the Palais des Festivals -
tonight's the opening night of the Film Festival.
The true hurricane, so to speak,
picked up speed at the Cannes Festival.
That's when the real circus started.
Visconti is, as almost always, one of the favourites,
this time with his Death in Venice.
There's a lamp right in my eyes. I can't see! Ah, better now, thanks.
Backlighting's better... Questions?
- May I ask you a question, Mr Visconti? - By all means.
One need hardly point out, yet again, the prowess of Dirk Bogarde.
- But Björn Andrésen was unknown to us. - I'll give you the Björn Andrésen story...
...with his permission. He's not too good at French, but he knows all this:
I'd got to Stockholm
and on the first day I started screen-testing young Swedish boys.
The fifth boy to enter the room was Monsieur Björn Andrésen.
And I was absolutely sure he was right for Tadzio. I had no doubt whatsoever.
I had every inch of him photographed, from top to toe... You remember!
We'd found Tadzio!
He was even more beautiful back then. He has aged now.
He's too tall now. His hair's too long. He was a more beautiful boy back then.
Not that he knows, but he's changing. He might become a handsome man.
But for the moment, well...
He's at an awkward age.
He is fifteen now...
No, sixteen. He is very old now.
Move it along!
I was pretty terrified.
It felt like swarms of bats around me, pretty much all the time.
It was a living nightmare.
Suddenly, I felt that people were looking up to me.
And acknowledging me.
Even sucking up to me.
"What the hell's this? How come everyone suddenly likes me?"
That's not a good basis for strong self-esteem,
since you know you can't trust someone's genuinely liking you.
Moreover, Visconti had declared me to be
"the most beautiful boy in the world".
I'd planned to have great makeup on, but now it all looks crap.
Heck! Oh well, no one'll notice.
There!
Right. Okay...
- Do I look all right? - You look great.
You should have black socks. You can't wear those.
I can put my boots on.
- No, you can't have it like that! - No, all right.
- Björn! - Okay, I'll open.
- Hello! - Hi.
- You do look fine! - Do I?
- Hi. - Hi. I'm Jessica.
- And I'm Eva. - Hi, Eva.
It didn't look like this on my last visit. The gas burner was on.
- Yes, I realise. - And it was utterly... Well, you know.
Yes.
I always used to have a gas burner on...
...during the winter months.
- When you sat in the kitchen. - Of course.
But otherwise, too, when it's been really cold outdoors.
But that's hardly normal,
seeing as the block is reasonably well heated.
- Do you take milk, Eva? - No thanks.
- Sugar? - No, as it is.
- Is this okay? - Yes, thank you.
- Who are you, by the way? - I'm Jessica. I'm Björn's girlfriend.
Ah, okay! You're the one who called me yesterday. Right.
So, first and foremost... Last Monday...
I don't really know how to explain what happened...
You can't explain it, as it had never happened before. That's all.
Exactly, that's it. I'm not lacking in powers of judgement.
Of course I turn the gas off when I leave the flat or go to bed.
The state of the flat, though... There's a fine line between your integrity
as to having your flat the way you want it and your obligations as a tenant.
This may come as a comfort to you, as a landlord:
There isn't a single animal to be found in this flat. How about that Björn!
Not a single bug or insect!
- Amazing, considering... - I'm happy to note that.
- I smoked them to death. - But now we smoke out on the balcony.
Björn is truly a decent well-ordered person.
I'm sure he is. Everything will be fine.
He hasn't disturbed any neighbours in all these years.
You're well-behaved in that sense.
It will be fine.
We need to clean this door, too.
Wow!
Can you believe it!
Oh, Björn! My God, what a relief!
- Right. Let's get drunk! - Yes, drunk.
Bloody soused.
- We've earned it, for ten days' cleaning. - Hell, I need a cig!
- Yup. - Now!
A new bed. You really need one.
Nobody should be made to sleep the way you've had to.
- No. - My sweetheart...
That's what happens when you don't feel like a human being.
My darling.
Now I feel like a human being again.
Hey...
- What do those tears taste like? - I don't know.
The premiere-night banquet...
"You've served your purpose", as it were.
"We've got our film now. So you can do what you want with the boy."
Granny had gone to bed.
She had placed me in their care, so to speak.
I had no idea where we'd ended up.
I'd never been to a nightclub, and definitely not a gay club.
Moreover, Luchino was there.
What I remember is...
Hell...! Red velvet walls. Glossy black paint...
I'd never experienced anything like that.
Voracious looks,
wet lips, rolling tongues...
It felt as though, in their minds, they were giving me a blowjob.
So I drank, drink after drink,
whatever I could lay my hands on, just to shut it out.
I don't remember how I got home.
His role as Tadzio makes him famous overnight. The entire world wants him.
But Visconti's contract with Björn ties Björn down
to the role of the Most Beautiful Boy in the World.
For three years, Visconti "owns" Björn's face.
I've cut out articles on Björn from various newspapers.
In some photos, he looks so unhappy.
Yes, I was damned lonely.
There were hordes of journalists - it must have been after the premiere -
outside your door.
Sackfuls of mail had been delivered...
- From Japan. - Mainly Japan.
There was mail from men, too, that were fascinated by you.
What I remember from those days
was the difference between Granny's excitement about the whole business...
- Yes? - ...and your lack of excitement about it.
She became "Björn Andrésen's Granny".
Yes, that's certainly true.
You used to run away from Granny's place.
There were so many conflicts at home there.
It was as if the film took over.
As if you were drawn into a tornado without being able to defend yourself.
Exactly.
Then you went to Japan, and I don't really know what happened there.
And after that, we never saw each other again.
After watching Death in Venice, Visconti's film,
everyone around me became fans of Björn.
Everybody talked about "Björn, Björn".
That was almost 50 years ago, half a century ago.
Maybe it was because Westerners were still uncommon here,
but people went wild.
He arrives in Japan as the first idol from the West.
All's been prepared. There are Death-in-Venice style outfits.
Sony's leading producer has already recorded backings
for pop numbers that Björn is to sing. And a film crew is standing by,
waiting to use him for a commercial - his face, that is.
I thought: "This can't be happening!"
It's like there's this surreal membrane
separating you from the rest of the world.
They were on the roof with streamers and posters saying "Welcome, Björn".
They had scissors, ready to snip off locks of my hair.
It was like a surreal dream.
I'm pretty bloody sure this was the lift.
I recognise the pushbuttons.
In 1971, touch buttons weren't in common use.
It was definitely this lift. Okay...
716, was that the room number?
- Good morning. - Good morning...!
He wasn't given any information before the shooting started.
He had no choice but to do as he was told.
I do feel that it was hard on him,
but the atmosphere didn't allow us to consider how he felt about it all.
They gave me two or three red pills...
...that were meant to make me feel better.
You didn't like this situation. To pose in this way.
In Death in Venice, Björn embodies the concept of "bishonen".
There is a homosexual aspect to it.
- Then there was the concert. - How many numbers did you do?
I don't know. I got these red pills...
- I'm really shocked. - Oh yes. This was back in 1971.
I don't care, it's goddam child abuse.
In my confusion I just said: "Okay..."
- What was it? Amphetamine? - Not the foggiest.
- Stesolid? - I've no bloody idea!
But anyway, you're up there on stage, and they're telling you...
Wait, I just need to absorb this. Wait!
- I'm going too fast? - No, it's so upsetting. Wait...
- Hey, this was nearly 50 years ago. - But it makes me sad.
- You needn't feel sad. - But I do. It makes me sad.
I just think it's so bloody awful.
The first time we met, I was dazzled. I couldn't believe such a person existed.
There was something mysterious in his expression.
He had a brightness to him.
But although he was only a teenager, I could also sense a dark side.
It gave him a three-dimensional appeal. I remember how it really attracted me.
He was the original idol. He started the whole idol culture.
He had this dark side too, although he was acknowledged by Visconti.
That was an asset for Björn, at the same time a burden to him.
There are actors like that in Japan, who had Kurosawa's recognition
and suffered throughout their careers due to it.
This may sound exaggerated, but one could call it his fate.
So, we told him that we'd really love to cut a record with him.
I was born for love
Upon that day there I was
Japanese is not an easy language.
Yet he had a great ear and soon learned to sing Japanese naturally.
Why do the world's flowers blossom when we are together?
Sony wanted to use one of the songs for a Japanese commercial.
For you who cried...
The heart beats.
Love awakens.
Meiji Chocolate. Excel!
A stirring in my heart
had me feeling this love
Nonetheless it was pure
For you who cried those sweet tears
Jessica!
- Jessica? - Yes?
What's the time?
- You need to get up. - Jess...
Jessica...
Jessica!
- Was it at eleven...or twelve? - Eleven.
It's quarter past.
When it comes to shojo manga, comics for girls,
a beautiful face is the most important thing.
When the film was released,
I was amazed to find out that such a person even existed.
I couldn't believe that anyone could be that beautiful.
A human is born, they grow up and there is a moment in their life
when their beauty is in full bloom.
This film managed to catch him,
in that exact moment when he was at the most beautiful he would ever be.
Good afternoon. Nice to meet you.
Björn's face was to inspire a whole generation of manga cartoonists.
In 1971, Riyoko Ikeda was a young, radical feminist.
She became one of Japan's greatest manga artists.
I think all we manga artists are inspired by him on a deeper level.
Each one of us, but in different ways.
Lady Oscar in my manga, "The Rose of Versailles",
is a girl who dresses as a boy.
The character is entirely based on Björn. He was the model.
I've been drawing it for forty or forty-five years.
Do that, André. I don't want anything to happen to you.
I'm going, Oscar.
If to love is to suffer let me suffer
until the day you understand
and realise how I feel
You're the light and I'm the shadow...
There is a kind of sadness in his face.
All we did see was the appearance of Björn Andrésen.
So I always wondered if our perception of him...
...actually hurt him.
But now I feel that we also saw his inner self.
I have never seen myself as an actor.
Things have just happened.
I went to drama school. I got a lot of casting, once I'd left -
good film parts, TV work, stage work.
Everything went well in terms of my career. But it didn't help me...
...with my inner darkness.
I don't think anyone has ever watched this.
I remember the last time I saw her.
She must have got off the number 10 tram.
We were on our way to school one day and there she stood, waving away.
We waved back. And she waved.
And we waved back. Even at that point, I thought:
"This is the last time I'll ever see her."
People were wondering where Barbro had got to.
Someone would say: "She's become a nun."
Or: "She's gone abroad." Stuff like that.
Anything but the truth.
Here, Mum has disappeared. She hasn't been found yet.
It was our teacher, Lisbeth Axelsson, at Adolf Fredrik's Music School who wrote:
"Björn Andrésen has much difficulty concentrating and is very talkative.
"To some extent, the same applies to Annike. Grateful for help."
I think it was because...
...we were deeply affected...
...obviously, by Mum's disappearance, and we didn't know what had happened.
We were both of us born in 1955.
You were born in January, and I was born in December.
We have the same mother, but different fathers.
In Denmark, they call that "semi twins".
Throughout our childhood you and I were closer
than I was to any friend or you were to any of your friends.
We were really close.
I don't ever remember being without you. It was always just the two of us.
I remember one day the doorbell ringing at Granny and Grandpa's house.
I went out. I think you were there too. Two policemen were standing there.
And they told us...
They had found Mum dead in the woods.
And ever since, since that day, since that hour,
no one ever mentioned Mum again. Not a single word was said about her.
Nobody ever spoke to me, or as I remember it, to us, about Mum -
about her having died, her having existed at all, or about how we were feeling.
Not a single word, ever.
She was a seeker.
A bohemian, an artistic soul, as they say.
She was a photographer, she wrote poetry, she painted, she was a journalist.
She had an art gallery...
And, added to all that, she even did modelling for Dior!
She took my sister and me on a year-long trip through Europe
before we'd even started going to school.
And her woman chum came too - Silva.
Mum's biggest secret was who Björn's father was.
That was something she kept secret.
Did Mum ever mention anything
about anyone who might have been my dad? Because I still don't know.
- You still don't know? Oh, dear! - "Oh, dear"?
- Just forget about it! - I see...
- I'm just to forget about it? - Yes, I think so.
- But it's an interesting subject. - Right.
- Yet she never told you about him? - No, not about who it was. Unfortunately.
I see...
Right....
- Hi, Björn! - Hello there.
Hang on - I'll just put my coffee in the microwave.
- How did it go last night? - Fine. I went on my own.
And... What about Peter?
- Sorry? - What about Peter?
- Peter who? - You wrote about someone called Peter.
- Peter...? - Yeah.
Who "appreciates your company".
- Oh, you mean Peter Dixon! - Okay.
We were at the Carmen restaurant a few days ago. At least he appreciates me.
You didn't want to hang out with me, so I hang out with my friends instead.
- Mm. - Shouldn't I?
I'm not sure. You write that there's a new man in your life.
Right. I'm wondering if I should go for that. Or is it we that should?
There is someone else and he's serious about me.
So, should I let that chance go while you're acting the paranoid geezer?
You shield the entry code so I won't see when we're on the far side of the planet.
And we bath together in the same tub. I file your nails for you. We share a bed.
We touch each other's bodies, yet you still keep your entry code secret.
So I wonder if you're the right man for me,
when there's another man who really wants me.
So, should I really go for you? That's my big question.
Especially when you behave like a damn pig!
- In what way have I behaved like a pig? - In what way? You are a pig, Björn!
You were a pig in Japan. Always using my phone. Not paying for anything.
Keeping me more or less under house arrest in the hotel room for two days.
- Wait a minute, none of this... - Not even giving me your entry code!
I have done so much for you, you ungrateful bloody bastard!
Okay...
Okay, how am I to sort this out?
All children born out of wedlock after 1917
were allocated a child welfare officer, who was most often a woman.
These officers were meant to support the unmarried mother
and also help establish who the father was.
This is the file on you.
We have another file, too, from police records this time.
It's about your mother's disappearance.
- Okay. All right. - Yes.
It can be somewhat tough to read, naturally.
So it's up to you if you want to look at it now
or have copies made, to read in the peace and quiet of your own home.
In police investigation records like these
there are often photographs -
for example here, shots of the scene where your mother was found.
I've removed them for the time being
as I don't want them suddenly to confront you.
That's very considerate of you.
They do exist, but I've kept them separate.
So, this is text describing things.
Post-mortem...
DEATH CERTIFICATE
I've seen all this in my mind's eye ever since that day.
But this is too explicit.
- Would you show me out, please? - Of course.
"On Monday, 2 May 1966, at 19:30 hrs, it was reported
"that the body of a female had been found in the woodlands near Stene Farm"
"She was concealed under dense fir foliage
"lying on her right side, her head on a root.
"Her head was bare.
"However, for protection she had pulled her coat collar up over her head."
"Documents in the handbag identified the woman
"as Mrs Barbro Elisabeth Andrésen,
"reported missing since October last year."
17 October, 1962.
SECRET...
- Auntie here. - Hello?
Is Annike coming over to see me on Saturday?
Don't you think they should come over?
You call me and ask: "How are you?"
And: "Are the children asleep, or maybe out somewhere?"
- And: "Could I speak to them?" - Yes?
You could just as well speak to me, right?
You brood too much about things. Don't complicate it all.
- That's a ridiculous thing to say. - Saying what?
It doesn't work like that! I can only be the way I am.
And when people don't allow me to be myself...
- ...it makes me strange and "wrong". - Who doesn't allow you?
You, for example, don't let me be myself.
- You want me to be a certain way. - I don't see what you mean at all.
I really don't understand you today. Not at all.
- Shall we hang up then? - Might as well.
Okay. Bye.
"Be still, no more harsh words.
"There's not much left of me. Don't cry over me.
"There's no longer any fire to put out. Don't look at me.
"I'm about to crumble. I'll fall apart at any moment.
"I don't want you to see me fall apart.
"Don't cry for me. There's no fire left to put out now.
"I've given away all I ever had.
"I haven't kept anything to live by.
"That's why I'm becoming more and more invisible.
"But I'm not going to die. What remains: a door.
"What else can I do but leave a room within myself?
"I don't die, I just disappear.
"Perhaps, my worry - I'll reawaken to certainty and doubt.
"Then I will return, to look for you."
That was probably, in a sense, her farewell letter.
She sat in her room
with a bottle of cheap red wine and a packet of Chesterfield in front of her.
She chain-smoked.
She just sat there in silence, staring out of the window, into the night.
I can recall standing behind her.
I remember thinking:
"When I grow up, I'm going to save Mum."
We don't see each other when he's...
...at his lowest.
When I was a child,
there were long periods when he didn't answer the phone.
Though now that I'm older, he might pick up.
But he'll tell me it's "not a good time at the moment".
There are details about Dad's life that a child shouldn't be aware of.
And when I was 14, or so,
Dad started to open this door a little, and he told me things.
I think it was around that time
that I found out more about the Death in Venice film.
I think a lot has to do with his mum's death.
It makes you wonder... If she'd been alive, functioning normally,
how would...?
The whole Death in Venice experience probably wouldn't have hit him as hard,
if he'd had a mum or dad he could trust - someone there for him.
In theory, he's an amazing dad. But in practice, it just doesn't work.
I wanted him to be there,
to love me and play with me, the whole time,
like any daughter would want her dad to be.
Actually, at one juncture you seemed to have disappeared.
We even thought you might be dead at one point.
Today, we take great pleasure in welcoming Björn Andrésen
for an exclusive interview for our French audience.
You might remember him as the guy who incarnated the young Tadzio,
in Luchino Visconti's famous film Death in Venice.
To us, it was an almost mythical character.
In our memories, we retain the image of this magnificent young teenage boy.
At that point, did it contribute to a different relationship with men?
- From my side? - Yes.
Like the gay community, for example. Did you feel they were interested in you?
- That they looked at you... - Oh, yes.
That you became this myth, this symbol of male beauty.
Well, let me start...
What's the question? If there was any change, before or after?
Because the gay community...
It started there. I mean, I've been quite...
I came here in 1976 to do a film.
It came to nothing, but I stayed for a year.
A Monsieur Durant, among others, paid for everything.
He'd found me an apartment on Rue de Seine, everything arranged.
He paid for it all.
I must have been bloody naive,
because it was sort of like: "Wow! Everyone's so nice."
I received these really long, long, long love poems.
Like "Björn, je t'aime", you know.
Expensive lunches, expensive dinners, gifts.
They all had really fat wallets.
I don't think they treated me out of the kindness of a bleeding heart.
It was rather a sense of being...
I felt like some kind of wandering trophy.
I was thinking, if you're in Paris for that long and they support you...
Did you get any money? How often did you meet?
- Money? I got weekly pocket money. - No! You're joking!
- 500 francs. - No!
500 francs a week in 1976?
- About that, yes. - Do you realise how much that was?
Maybe you were a little mascot, someone cool to be seen with -
at Maxim's and the Lido.
- The most beautiful boy in the world. - Yes, "le petit garçon de Mort à Venise."
I was a sex object, or an object anyway. Big game.
They paid for your company, as it were.
For God's sake - I never had any money of my own,
at least not when I was travelling round the world.
It was so into my own ego.
If I'd known then what I know today, I'd have said no to Paris.
But it's of major importance, Björn...
...in terms of who you are today and of how you see yourself,
and of those shattered dreams,
and of what didn't happen, and what did.
You're not an uncomplicated person, Björn.
Tu es très compliqué.
Beloved Björn...
- The love of my life. - Do I deserve to be?
You do.
-Hi! -Hello, sweetie.
- How are things? - Same as usual.
Same as usual? Up or down?
In need of a pee, scared of trains, lacking in strength.
- A little... - That sounds familiar.
Do you realise it's eleven years, this December, since I was last here?
Don't say that!
Has it really been that long? I mean, this place looked...
I haven't had anyone visiting.
Not until just over a year ago,
when Jessica helped me clean the place up.
All squeezed together!
- Right, "the ugliest baby in the world." - Is it in here, under "Births"?
- There it is! - Yup.
"The ugliest baby in the world, our wonderful daughter."
Thanks!
You're content there.
Becoming a father was the scariest thing ever. What are fathers supposed to do?
I'd got into drama school a few months earlier.
I felt I had to do the best I possibly could.
And my biggest wish was
that you wouldn't have to go through what I went through as a child.
For a family to work, you need to be two people.
That's where it fell apart. Too much alcohol and...
But I think I'm a healthier adult
due to your living apart, than if you'd lived together.
- Elvin's arrived here. - Yes.
That's when we became "the Good family".
- We became "the Good family"? - Yes.
When I was a child, even into my teens, you often said, very often:
"If there's ever anything you want to know, just ask me."
When you were drunk, too... It was so cryptic -
I never knew what questions you meant.
Was it that you wanted me to know what had happened?
I didn't want you to be lonely.
Also, whatever you wanted to know...
...I'd tell you, if not the truth, then at least my side of the story.
You're so beautiful!
Sorry. Big boys don't cry.
You cry almost every time I see you. Something always moves you.
- Yes, I'm a sensitive bugger. - Yes, be one then!
- What said I? - "What said I?"
Do you know something, Mummy?
Elvin died. He's in the flowers. In the sky.
In the picture.
In the Lego.
And it all happened at once.
- Do you find it hard? - Mm-hmm.
- I took your knife. - Yes, you did.
"And it all happened at once."
It was 11 August, 1987, the day after Robine's third birthday.
Almost three months after Elvin died.
I'd been out.
It was 17 May.
I'd had a late night out, and I come home, and I fall asleep.
She's taking Robine to kindergarten.
And she lays him next to me in bed.
I've had far, far too little sleep.
And I'm as drunk as hell.
He's lying next to me, and I fall asleep.
Passed out.
I'm woken up by a scream, and it's her.
I can see him lying there. His lips are blue.
Then we desperately, and in vain, try to...
...resuscitate him.
Their diagnosis is sudden infant death syndrome.
But my diagnosis is lack of love.
I wasn't up to it. And he had to take far too much responsibility.
On his tiny shoulders, he bore the whole of our family's happiness.
But things gave way, with him.
Robine didn't only lose her little brother. She lost her father as well.
I descended into depression and alcohol.
Self-destruction...
...in all ways imaginable.
It was an ego trip. "Poor me, me, me" - I, me, mine.
And then you're back to being a child.
A child can't look after a child.
We had eight months together.
He would have been... How old?
He would have been 32 today.
I wonder how he'd have sounded...
...what kind of voice he would've had.
What about his expression?
And that would all have depended on how I'd acted as a father.
Because he was my boy.
But the fact is, I wasn't there.
If I hadn't gone out, if I'd behaved like an adult instead, he would be alive.
If I'd taken my responsibility seriously, he'd still be alive today.
But everything was wrong from the start.
My life. Her life.
What's really insane is that you get used to it.
You don't expect...
...that much from life.
I don't really know how to express it. When you've lost so much,
it somehow, in its own special way, makes life easier to live.
Okay - I missed this, I lost that. Okay.
I've lost so much else.
Elvin: 3 months. Robine: 2 years, 4 months.
Sanna: 24 years, 9 months. Björn: 31 years, 11 months.
Have you ever lain on the grass
and imagined you're not looking into space,
but you're observing what's down below?
It's a pretty awe-inspiring feeling.
I mean, when we look up at the stars, what direction are we looking in?
Are we looking outwards, inwards, upwards, or downwards?
I mean, I'm still around, I'm sitting here,
and everything worldly is extremely uncertain
unless one has one's faith.
When I look at the screen test,
shot at his audition for Death in Venice,
I find it painful.
I can deal with what it all resulted in, and with the person he's become today.
But witnessing it there on film - that crucial turning point...
When I see how very ill at ease he feels,
and, knowing things that other people watching this don't know,
about the person he is...
We're talking about an incredibly sensitive boy, really shy,
who doesn't even want to be there.
Then he's suddenly supposed to pose without his shirt.
Nudity to him isn't...
He doesn't want to be naked, doesn't want to take his clothes off.
That was painful to watch.
That's where I want to go back in time and ask his granny what she's up to:
"Stop it! Leave the lad alone."
It's wrong. You don't do that to children.
Tadzio...? Tadzio!
"Be still, no more harsh words.
"There's not much left of me.
"Don't cry over me.
"There's no longer any fire to put out.
"I no longer have a sense of what I am and what I'm not.
"I look around. Is that me?
"Or that?"
Tadzio!
"I'm becoming more and more invisible.
"I've given away all I ever had.
"But I'm not going to die.
"What remains: a door.
"I don't die, I just disappear.
"Maybe, I'll reawaken.
"Then I will return to look for you."