The Kingdom Hospital rests on ancient marshland
where the bleaching ponds once lay.
Here the bleachers moistened their great spans of cloth.
The steam evaporating from the wet cloth
shrouded the place in permanent fog.
Centuries later the hospital was built here.
The bleachers gave way to doctors and researchers,
the best brains in the nation and the most perfect technology.
To crown their work they called the hospital The Kingdom.
Now life was to be charted, and ignorance and superstition
never to shake the bastions of science again.
Perhaps their arrogance became too pronounced,
and their persistent denial of the spiritual.
For it is as if the cold and damp have returned.
Tiny signs of fatigue are appearing in the solid, modern edifice.
No living person knows it yet, but the gateway to the Kingdom
is opening once again.
A Foreign Body
Hello! Now your car is as good as new.
I ordered the repair of my Volvo 850 GLT
and delivery to my private parking bay.
Your bay has been abolished. Danish crap.
Where are the cones that mark my parking bay?
The red plastic ones.
Pull up in front of that Golf.
Where is my parking bay? My plastic cones?
Are they yours? Yes.
I talked to the boss. Nobody has private parking bays.
Anyway it was in a stupid place. Where the ambulances pull up.
The ambulances can drive round it.
Two have had real bother. Made in Sweden. See?
Where's your boss? Nobody touches my cones.
You're in luck. What?
My boss is here today. But he's in conference.
Cash on the nail, please.
Sweet Jesus ... Dear God ...
Man ...
12 October, 00.35 hours. This is ambulance wagon 12.
We're heading down Lyngby Road towards the Kingdom ...
13 October, 00.35 hours.
This is ambulance wagon 12.
We're heading down Lyngby Road towards the Kingdom ...
And so on.
Cracks in the building. Practical jokes.
Of course we've tried to trace the calls.
Bulder has an idea of where they are coming from.
Have I?
You said you thought you knew. Excellent. Where?
Bulder doesn't want to falsely accuse anyone.
Couldn't you call him on his radio?
Next time they call in? Anything.
FOUND ... key to locker B.023 ...
This is it. Your locker, right? Yes.
Have you lost your key?
No.
That's lucky.
Or it wouldn't be a safe place to keep the you-know-what.
I don't. It's been stolen. What am I to do?
If Bondo gets his fingers on it ... That's what it means!
The Key to your Head.
Whoever's taken it wants to meet you at lift lobby 7 in the basement.
Well, I don't want to meet him.
Anyway, I bet he's already told Bondo.
Why would he have put this up then?
Where is lift lobby 7?
Why did you say I knew?
Can't you see?
They must be connected with the ambulance
Hansen mentioned. That's where the calls come from.
At last we'll get something out of the 78 driving lessons you hand.
Fill up the tank. Tonight we're going for a ride!
Mummy!
We are all here today Apart from one of us
Here is ...
Hook
and Rigmor
and Judith
and ... Helmer
And ...
Helmer ...
Sorry ... You are closing your mind to all this, Stig.
Crossed arms are your body language.
Your way of saying "Don't get too close". Perhaps you're right.
After all, you're from a completely different culture.
I'm merely trying to bring out a bit of esprit de corps in all of us.
I realise it may be hard for Helmer to join in,
Helmer, the hardest worker of us all.
Have any of you seen the Gazette this morning?
Splendid, Stig, no less.
Impressive research. You should have submitted it
to the Lancet ... How you find the time and energy! I'm impressed.
Perhaps Dr. Helmer could explain the drip he gave Mrs. Drusse?
It would be nice to know the consultant's plans ...
What do you mean by that? I didn't admit Mrs. Drusse,
the entire Danish medical profession did.
I presume that the Danish medical profession has a plan.
If not, then I have to decide. Send her to otology.
Otology? Why? There's no indication that she cannot hear.
Initially, in a friendly tone of voice,
and then in a powerfully exaggerated tone of voice
I screamed at Mrs. Drusse, "STAY IN BED, DAMN YOU!"
But she very clearly did not hear me. So send the old cow to otology.
She's as deaf as a post.
Now the larum of the living will be silent in this room.
I invoke a spirit.
Are you here, Mary?
I know you are here, for you have something to tell me.
If you're here, Mary, reveal your presence.
I have lit a candle for you.
I have heard you crying in the lift.
Now I ask you, "Were you locked away?"
Blow the flame if you mean yes.
Were you crying because you'd been locked away?
No? Did you cry because your chest hurt?
No ...
But you do have a chest disease, don't you?
No?
Now you are confusing me.
Did you cry because someone had hurt you?
Who? Who made you cry?
Someone from your family?
Why won't you let me talk to Mary?
I ask the other spirit in the room to leave us.
Why don't you want me to talk to Mary?
Mary? Mary? Are you there?
Are you still here?
It's important at present for our department
to make a positive impression. Operation Morning Breeze, etc. ...
Don't you also feel things are running more smoothly now?
I got the pictures from the children's ward.
We have to seek out the positive things.
I think I've found a solution to Professor Bondo's problem.
Oh? He will be pleased, he and the rest of the brethren.
I mean, it's magnifique. Isn't that what you people say?
Have we time to tell him?
Oh, no!
Mona!
That pompous Swede!
Your work, your results, are what he's written about.
It's just not the one thing. Maybe in Sweden, but not here.
I'd like to see that Mona report. I know he committed an error.
My name is mentioned in the article.
Mentioned? You keep getting cheated.
That Aage bloke cheated you, too.
He made no promises.
And he was really very nice. Want to see him?
Not specially.
I'll keep those.
There is a time to remember, and a time to forget.
Do you feel how my tummy has grown?
Yes, enormously. Big bloke, was he?
I've already forgotten.
I'm having a scan today. Want to come?
Of course.
What the hell are you doing? I made contact.
She revealed her presence.
But somebody wanted to stop her.
She said she wasn't ill. That's very odd.
Maybe she just didn't know.
Maybe it's time to talk to Professor Bondo.
What, do you know him, too? Not exactly "know".
I had a well-documented relationship with his father
in 1944. It was thoroughly reported
in the Messenger that Easter.
They didn't have much to write about that year.
I met his son then, a boy of very little brain.
You never told me. What became of him?
He died, and I haven't heard from him since.
But he was quite a bit my senior, and a real charlatan.
Where are we going? To ear, nose and throat.
Otology! Well, why not?
Have we time to drop in on Professor Bondo on the way?
No.
Imagine, I heard what sounded like a no to your mother.
I thought you loved me, but I was obviously mistaken.
Mummy, damn it!
Hello, Bondo, have you a minute? ... Helmer has an idea.
I understand ...
... that your hepatoma's next of kin won't permit an autopsy.
I know you Danes take pride in making things
as complicated as possible. Never mind that.
I have found a document that shows
that three years ago Zakariasen signed up as an organ donor.
That could be to our advantage. What do you mean?
Legally, we could transplant the liver.
Who'd want a liver that's totally kaput and has a malignant tumor?
We take a terminal patient. Get consent from the next of kin
for an autopsy. Give him the liver.
When he dies, which will be soon afterwards
the liver will be ours.
You are joking ... or did you have a particular patient in mind?
This isn't otology! Don't you know your way round at all?
A joke ... if so, everything here is a joke.
The theory and argument are most interesting.
But the ethics just don't hold water. You're talking people's bodies.
Possibly, but we are also talking science and the common good.
I am afraid Bondo cannot put your ideas to any use.
Now, gentlemen, I have a class.
I'm going to examine your hearing.
No need, my hearing is fine.
That's what we're going to check.
A healthy ear emits a very faint tone.
By measuring it, we can measure hearing ability.
You mean like when your ears ring?
No, this tone cannot be heard without amplification and filters.
First I'll record the tone in your inner ear,
then amplify it and rerecord it until it's been isolated.
I'll put a special microphone into your ear ...
I think I could hear the tone.
The other day I heard a little girl crying. Nobody else could.
Your hearing must be good, then.
Silly old git!
How is the Mona case proceeding? Has the CMO calmed down?
You said somebody had spilt coffee on the anaesthesia report.
That's typical of the Danes.
Such damned sloppiness!
How true! But what a Silly Billy I had been! It dawned on me later
that there is always a copy in the hospital archives.
A copy? Of what?
The anaesthesia report. A carbon copy is always made.
One stays with the patient notes, the other goes into the archives.
That's how we do things in Denmark.
So as long as there's no coffee on the copy, we're OK.
I must requisition the copy for the CMO.
Oh, yes ... the lodge meeting tonight.
I took the liberty of saying you'd help brighten the place up.
Since you're so nimble-fingered. Being a brain surgeon and all that.
We must all do our bit.
You don't mind, do you?
No, no, no.
There will be no class today. I have something to do.
What do you want?
It was my turn to present my report. I can't guarantee it'll stick.
Now I've read all about the digestive tract in vain!
When will I ever need to recognise an amylase enzyme again?
When you're a doctor, maybe?
Professor Bondo speaking. Sorry to bother you again.
About that hepatoma patient ...
Can you send me a new blood sample?
Yes, the size we use for transplant compatibility tests.
Thanks. A.S.A.P.
Right, I've made the recording. Now we'll filter it.
If you'd wait outside ...
Can I watch?
I suppose so.
What happens when you press the buttons?
The machine plays back and amplifies again and again.
We get closer and closer to the very faint tone until it's audible.
There it is. You're right, you've excellent hearing.
Can you amplify the noise in the room without that tone?
Something might be hidden in the silence.
There's nothing in our box, it's been tested again and again.
I thought I heard something. Impossible. It's soundproof.
But I thought I heard something. Really.
Could you amplify the sound from the box with nobody in it?
All right, let's amplify silence!
Rigmor ... It's that damned report.
Moesgaard says there is a copy in the archives.
That's right, the copy always goes into the archives.
Did you only pour coffee over the original, and not the copy?
The copy had been removed. It never occurred to me ...
We must requisition the copy before Moesgaard does.
That would look pretty silly.
It's your fault. You are so damned lazy.
You can't just go into the archives.
You have to sign a receipt.
You don't understand. And you've got to understand.
If the CMO gets that report I might as well pack my bags.
Rigmor, is that what you're hoping for?
Of course not, and anyway, is the report so damaging?
No ... I think ... I really think I'll have to get it myself.
Me, a tired old man.
If you are thinking of burgling the archives
you're bonkers. It's impossible.
And it would hardly be a good place for you to get caught.
With your fingers in the Mona notes.
Not a sound apart from tape hiss.
What's that?
Why must I be killed?
No soundproofing is sufficient if one just goes on reamplifying.
It could be from a radio downstairs.
Why must I be killed?
Voices can be thrown back and forth from wall to wall.
Or from soul to soul.
Come along, we can have a chat.
I'm meant to be meeting someone. Come on ...
Hi, Hook. Hi. What have you got?
Some of those good eye drops. I'll take them. Any news?
No. Apart from driverless ambulances
and little girls bleeding in the lift shafts.
What do you mean? It's Bulder and his nutty mum.
Ghosts everywhere; you can tell because they're transparent.
Tell Mrs. Drusse if you see any, she'll be over the moon.
Actually, I'd heard about the little girl.
My arse!
Come in, Mogge. Ghosts at the Kingdom ...
Sounds interesting, eh? My arse!
Sit down.
I deal with everything people don't need.
I get rid of it.
Or I redirect it to where people do need it.
Take those eye drops. Who needs two half bottles?
I don't know.
They used to get binned. But I invented a system.
They're very special. Used as an anaesthetic.
This lamp is always on, always hot, so the cocaine precipitates out.
Good quality stuff.
You'd be amazed how many doctors upstairs will pay for a sachet.
Recycling, Mogge. And imagination.
Take this, for example.
How many people could use one of these?
Nobody, I don't think.
No, like the eye drops.
On the face of it a severed head is worthless.
But suddenly it becomes of value to somebody.
To whom?
Professor Bondo, maybe? To give a student the chop?
Or a student who doesn't want the chop?
What do you want me to do for you?
All kinds of things, for an extended term of employment.
I put this on as a security measure.
To stop anybody running off with the surgical spirit.
But there is something you can do right away.
I need help with Helmer.
Shortly after coming here he operated on a girl called Mona.
A complaint has been lodged.
Helmer claims that a minor haemorrhage occurred.
But a minor haemorrhage doesn't cause total brain damage.
You were present at the operation. What really happened?
I don't know. I've no experience of operations.
All I remember is Rigmor spilling coffee over her papers.
Over the anaesthesia report? How clumsy of her.
But it's interesting. Know what you can do?
Get me the copy of the report from the archives.
Talk to Jensen in Technical Services, he owes me one.
We must get hold of Mary's notes. They'd tell us a thing or two.
Mum, she died in 1919. Yes, but they keep the notes.
There must be an archive. It has an alarm.
Don't tell me you can't find a way.
You managed to find the cookie jar.
I didn't take those cookies. Just get us into the archives.
Talk to Madsen, he must know how.
I'd like to talk to Jensen.
He's in the boss's office.
Are you Jensen? Maybe. Why?
Hook sent me. Hook? Why?
He said you owed him one. Maybe I do. What does he want?
The code to the archives. Sorry, no can do.
Only Mrs. K�g�rd has it and she's integrity incarnate.
But every evening at 9 we test the emergency power supply.
You once told me there was a way of getting into the archives.
Yes, but I don't know the code.
Only Mrs. K�g�rd has it and she's integrity incarnate.
But when we test the emergency power supply at 9,
the alarm is turned on and off. It's an ancient system.
When the emergency supply kicks in,
the backup takes a while to come on line. You have half a minute
in which you can switch off the alarm without the code,
and open the door with a master key.
You didn't hear that from me. No, no.
How far gone did you say? Eleven weeks.
This baby is at least 25 weeks old.
You scanned me for some students a while ago,
and I wasn't pregnant then.
No, and it wasn't that long ago.
Anyway, he looks fine.
Is it a boy?
It's a little boy!
Piled in the archives the files of yore
Everything just right
Though fore was rear and rear was fore
In piles of massive height.
What do you mean?
A funny old thing, memory.
They cut into people's memories
and now they want to get into the archives.
Who?
The consultant and the old lady and the student.
The archives seem so peaceful, yet ...
Yet?
All the pain is gathered there.
Every letter is printed in blood.
What are you doing here?
I was sent to fetch something from the archives.
But nobody's here, so I'm waiting.
What are you doing?
It's a secret ...
... but I work for Technical Services.
Things have been disappearing from the archives recently.
There is a breach in the alarm system at about 21.00 hours.
So I'm keeping an eye on the archives at that time.
The archives are closed now, anyway.
I must have been sent by mistake.
Cheerio. Cheerio.
It's a big place.
Where are her notes?
I didn't get them.
You are quite impossible.
I almost got caught.
I was trying to look natural and relaxed.
The only time you ever looked natural and relaxed was in 1972
when you tried to prove
that Easter beer was less proof than diet lager.
Apart from that one occasion you emanate chronic guilt.
Maybe you have something to do with it.
Yes, if you want something done you must do it yourself.
See you outside the archives in an hour.
First I've got a seance
for a group of staff.
Which staff?
Skeptical but curious representatives from the natural sciences.
You cheated!
Run along.
Hello, my friend. Come to hear about Haiti?
To hell with Haiti. I just want a cup of coffee.
I'm afraid it's cold. Did I say it had to be hot?
No way. Consultants get hot coffee.
Why didn't you just take it? I didn't like to.
You've got a lot to learn.
A good thing you noticed someone had forgotten to lock up.
The sensor will register any movement in here.
We'll go out, close the door and switch the alarm on.
You locked him in.
You don't say. Coming?
No, I've got to get some sleep.
This is Judith from neurosurgery. Where's my archive stuff got to?
I know they're closed, but I need that stuff tonight!
... Thanks.
Where did you get the code from? Mrs. K�g�rd, of course.
I thought she was integrity incarnate?
She is, but she is also a spiritualist.
Ah, Mrs. Drusse.
You are quivering with anticipation.
What is the consultant going to say?
But Mrs. Drusse, I have no explanation.
None!
As you should be the first to understand,
as someone who meddles with the inexplicable.
Don't you feel the tiniest inkling of sympathy for me?
A neurosurgeon fumbling round like a wretched halfwit?
Doesn't it make me just a teeny, teeny bit human?
Hey, ho ...
I wonder where they keep the oldest notes?
Stay still. I am. I'm knackered.
I don't need the jabs to fall asleep.
Does the screen show what people are thinking?
If I think about you, do my sex centres light up?
Pleasure centres, Mogge. Turn over.
OK, since I've sold my body to science.
You should do likewise.
I'd put a pretty high price on it.
There you are, Duckling!
We have 42 serviettes that need folding at the lodge.
To central labs URGENT!!!!
Come in.
Hello, sorry to disturb you.
My name is Sigrid Drusse, and this is my son, Bulder.
If I say the Messenger,
Easter edition,
what do you say?
Nothing.
Archibald and I received the blessing from the spirits in 1943.
I remember you. You were the woman of very little brain
who almost drove my father insane. What can I do for you?
It's a scientific spiritualist problem.
I've got in touch with a girl called Mary Jensen, who died in 1919.
Could you look at her notes and tell us how she died?
She died of tuberculosis. It says so. Cause of death: TB.
Can we be sure it's true? That it's the real cause of death?
Dissipated necrotic particles in the pulmonary tissue ...
It doesn't look like TB. More like acid damage.
What's that?
It occurs as a result of inhaling acid gasses or chlorine.
Did they use acid gasses to treat TB?
I've no idea what devilry they tried in the old days.
But I'm glad I wasn't that patient.
Shall I help you, Miss?
Oh, no! What's wrong?
It's stuck to the plate. The whole wash may be done for.
People can be done for that way, too.
We'll have to wash them up again.
It'll be a long night.
And morning, too.
Where can I find a drink? Over at anaesthesia.
Can someone relieve me? Hurry, Helmer.
Those serviettes can't be that difficult.
You have to man the bar!
Helmer got the idea of transplanting Zakariasen's liver.
I didn't know Swedes had a sense of humour.
Zakariasen was a poor old chap. He's not dead, is he?
Not far from it.
He's been brain stem dead for over 24 hours.
He's going off fast. Sorry, old chap.
Don't worry, another hepatoma is bound to turn up in a decade or so.
This is Bondo, pathology. That compatibility test ...
Ahah.
Thanks.
May I address the lodge?
What, in the middle of the anaesthetic?
I request an acute audition. An acute audition.
My brethren! Permit me to interrupt the bacchanal absolutely acutely.
Brother Bondo wishes to address us.
Dear brethren ...
Dear lodge ...
I request immediate assistance to perform a liver transplant.
May I inquire ... who the donor is?
Svend Zakariasen, from your own department.
With a hepatoma.
And the recipient?
Me.
I have just learned that the donor and I are fully compatible.
What is he saying?
That he'll transplant the hepatoma to himself.
The man is mad!
Stig!
Calm down! Release me.
I am going to hit him.
Brother Bondo still has the floor. I'm going to hit him.
The only legal, ethically defensible way of obtaining the hepatoma
is a transplant into my own body. If the tissue functions in my body
for just a few minutes it will become
my property.
We can then put my own liver back
and conclude the operation.
Have you considered even for an instant
the consequences for the medical profession?
Our credibility is at stake.
Things have come to a pretty pass if we have to expose ourselves
to personal risk!
Doctors are at the right end of the scalpel
and there they must stay!
Extraction
is no problem. Professor Ulrich can perform it
on his ward.
But the implant is another matter.
Where will that be done? In the porter's toilet, for example?
Everything has been prepared. Hook has helped gain access
to the civil defense hospital located beneath the Kingdom.
It is on full standby.
He sought help from outside the lodge?
Dr. Hook has often performed services for this lodge.
Dear brethren ...
What is your answer?
I propose we ask for guidance from the brother
on the Ethical Council. What does he say?
Cheers.
And the Medical Council?
We are operating on nothing until I have ascertained full compatibility
between myself and a gin and tonic.
Dear brethren, this bacchanal may not be quite as planned
but it seems most interesting. Off we go
to the civil defense hospital!
The ambulance will be with you in two minutes.
Two minutes.
This operation contravenes our Hippocratic oath.
There are no medical grounds for a healthy patient to run such a risk.
The lodge oath overrides anything else.
In the lodge, lodge law applies.
The civil defense hospital isn't the lodge.
I've brought the regalia for the necessary inaugural rites.
Since this was all your idea, Helmer,
I think you should assist with the instruments.
Locus electus ...
No! They've spotted us!
Here's the material you requested from the archives.
Great. Sign here, please.
Thank you. OK.
Pull alongside, and we'll see if we can see her.
They're bringing the organ.
Wait ... let me see it ...
We must administer the anaesthetic now.
If this goes wrong, devote my body to medicine.
I want to be put into the specimen collection.
But no transplants!
Now in her grave she lies ...
Sutures.
Sutures, Helmer.
Moesgaard ... will you take over?
After a winter without surcease
The little girl's gone home to God ...
Now in her grave she lies at peace ...
God knows where that is, Bulder.
Where was she buried?
The organ is in place. Have we circulation?
We have circulation. Fine.
In two minutes we will put Bondo's own liver back.
TetraPak ... yes.
Volvo ... yes.
Pripps Blue ... yes.
Bj�rn Borg ... yes.
Hepstars ... yes.
I am here. I don't know how I got here.
And I ask myself what the devil I have done?
Danish scum.
Blood pressure is falling. Raise his legs.
Calcium.
Adrenaline. Quick!
We'll have to close him up.
With a malignant tumor inside him?
Yes. You can't be serious.
Or he won't get off the table alive.
Oh, Bulder!
We must find her notes and see where she was buried.
Are you hurt? No.
There must be a receipt from the chapel.
It may say where she was buried.
"Not to be released from chapel".
"Internal use". What does that mean?
Thanks. I may well need it.
What's the matter? Have you seen a ghost?
Internal use ... internal use ...
Mary!
Once again we've been together at the Kingdom. How did things go?
In the shadow of the eccentric, the charming and the zany terror lurks.
Maybe that's the background against which man's wickedness is clearest.
Mrs. Drusse now has her ghost, Bondo his sarcoma.
Will their conquest bring them joy? Who knows.
Right now the objects of their desire look more like a terrible burden.
And Helmer? Well, let me put it this way ...
This napkin is created from 12 simple folds.
Compared to the countless twists and turns of the human brain,
a very simple prototype. But here is Helmer's version.
None too impressive, eh? The truth about our abilities
always emerges one day. A horrid thought, is it not?
My name is Lars von Trier and I wish you all a very good evening.
If you join us again, be prepared take the Good with the Evil.