- Reine! Open up! - One twenty-eight.
Mum! A new record!
What are you doing?
I can soon do 3 minutes.
Youīre not to do these experiments.
First child in the Guinness Book of Records.
Itīs dangerous. You might drown.
Promise me you wonīt do this at the summer camp.
You said I was to go.
But you donīt want to spend the summer with Granny.
Letīs call it off.
Go to bed now.
You must leave early in the morning.
Itīs Stig.
I canīt help it. Heīll go soon.
Weīve had our moment, you and I.
I want to ask you something. - Not now, itīs late.
Is there a God?
Off to bed now.
Iīll see you off tomorrow.
Youīll be away the whole summer.
- When does your train go? - 11:22
Donīt tell Stig Iīm going away.
Promise!
Stig - what a bloody silly name!
Arenīt you going to bed?
Youīre going to the summer camp tomorrow?
Did I tell you about...
our turn-out with the ambulance the other day?
A pensioner blew himself up with dynamite.
Straight to the mortuary.
We had to scrape the walls. Mop up with a cloth.
Brains on the wall with a tooth in them.
We could only find one eye.
So youīre not going to bed?
You little sod.
Iīm a nasty little rat. Say it!
Say it! Iīm a nasty little rat.
50 kroner.
Go on, say it!
Youīve no one else but Mum to go to.
He canīt tell me what to do.
Weīll just have a little talk, then heīll go.
Heīs not my dad.
Iīll wake you in the morning.
Off to bed now.
Iīll close the door now.
Who is my dad?
Iīll never get a boner, and never fuck.
I promise.
Decision made June 14th.
I wonīt let myself be deported to the summer camp.
Iīd rather die alone here in town.
Procedure one.
Prevent Mum from coming with you into town.
How? Let her oversleep.
P.S. Angels donīt fuck.
Wake up, Mum.
Sheīll say: Whatīs the time?
Iīll say: Ten to seven.
Sheīll say: When does your train go?
When does your train go? - 7:15
Weīll never make it. I havenīt packed.
Iīve plenty of time.
I can go alone.
You canīt come with me to Uddevalla.
I have a job there. Youīd only be bored.
How youīve grown, Reine.
Iīve time to go home and pack now.
To the staff at the summer camp.
This is to inform you that 11-year-old Reine Larsson
has suddenly expired.
He is dead and cannot come.
Resepctfully, his mother, Harriet Larsson.
Hi Mum.
Here at the camp itīs sunny and green.
We swim and play football.
The foodīs okay.
Tonight thereīs community singing.
I had a good trip.
I caught the bus all right.
I have a room to myself.
There I can do just as I like.
One of the boys here is Ronnie Petterssonīs son.
Love, Reine.
Nothing there.
Nothing there either.
Good.
The daily check of the position gave a favourable result.
June 15th at 15:24 hours.
Not a single hair visible on either scrotum or penis.
Terrific.
One more day to live.
I am a part of the world.
Iīve a right to say what I like.
No one can come and contradict me.
Everythingīs under control.
Youīre in control of things when youīre alone.
The daily check of the position gave a favourable result.
16 June at 09:02 hours.
Not one hair on scrotum or penis.
One more day to live.
Iīm starving.
Canīt think.
Food, money, job.
Get a job.
Helene, look! Look!
Cadillac.
Look, Helene!
Have you bought a new car? - Cadillac ī59.
What will Olga say, Hester?
What a nasty smell!
- Youīre late. - My watch is wrong.
- We start work at 8. - Sod the lot of you.
I canīt breathe here.
You havenīt washed the brushes properly.
Why canīt they wash their own brushes?
So Helene with her handicap is to wash her brush
because you wonīt obey the rules?
Brushes are expensive, 18 kronor.
Three times 18 is 54, deducted from your wages.
Sod the lot of you.
Everyone must be punctual.
Up yours, you bitches.
Iīm quitting.
- Get an alarm clock. - Do you know why Iīm late?
Because I had a fuck an hour ago.
You here! What the hell?
- Mumīs not here. - Open up.
- Mumīs not at home. - Open the door.
Shut up you bloody mongrel.
Why arenīt you at the camp?
It was postponed...
Thereīs an epidemic...
Diarrhea...
Whereīs Mum?
At the hospital.
That is, she...
Sheīs on night duty.
Looking after old people.
God help you if youīre lying.
Iīll wait here.
Iīve told them here you work at a hospital.
Thereīs a caretaker here too.
He hides the keys from the children.
Heīs noisy and silly. And lonely.
Nobody likes him.
He consoles himself with beer every evening.
Straight to the mortuary.
A pensioner blew himself up with dynamite.
Straight to the mortuary.
We had to scrape the walls.
- You think Iīm mean, eh? - Brains on the wall, with a tooth.
You think Iīm mean, eh?
- Damn the kid. - We could only find one eye.
So youīre not going to bed.
Why do you think Harriet likes me?
You little sod.
Why do you think I come here?
Open the door!
Where the hell is she?
Open the door!
Iīm a nasty little rat. Say it!
Open the door!
Iīm a nasty little rat.
Why do you think Harriet likes me?
Say it! Iīm a nasty little rat.
Youīve no one else but Mum to go to.
Iīm a nasty little rat. Say it!
Donīt tell Stig that...
In the Congo it was no problem.
Stand up!
Yes, sir!
Where is she?
Open the door!
She likes me to fuck her.
Thatīs why I come here, see?
Harriet likes me to fuck her, see?
Stand up! Lie down!
Stand up! Lie down! Stand up!
Night. Second day of freedom.
Survive. Find someone whoīs sorry for you.
Be quiet, good, shy and harmless.
Give them the feeling of power.
Must have a job, must have grub.
The big questions must wait.
Quick-change artist Reine Larsson
shows you how to survive.
Work here, well...
Stand on the stool, so the girls can look at you.
We havenīt had a man employed here for a long time.
Well, heīs hardly a man.
Iīm not sexually mature.
If I move up to lettering
someoneīs needed in shading.
He can go out to the cemeteries too.
Can we afford anyone else?
What shall we do? Letīs ask Kristine.
Thereīs the brush washing too.
Iīve begun to get eczema.
Kristine, answer!
Iīm allergic. It itches.
Itīs no good asking Kristine.
What does Kristine say?
How are old are you?
Iīm... uhm...
Heīs fifteen.
The boy stays.
Whenīs lunch?
Itīs a funny story...
Iīll go.
Olgaīs Studio.
Heīs cadging money again.
Olga has a son - Hester.
He always comes asking for money.
- Heīs a real rowdy. - You know how things are.
Olga drinks.
Soon sheīll say she must give the cat its milk.
That means sheīs having her whiskey.
She says her blood pressureīs too high.
Was that Hester?
Eat up, Reine.
Iīm going out for a moment. The cat must have its milk.
We make mourning ribbons.
To be hung on the wreaths when thereīs a funeral.
Mostly we write "A Last Greeting" in gold.
There, isnīt that nice?
The lettering must be like this...
so that itīs harmonious.
You dip twice.
And you mustnīt be afraid or hesitate.
Do you think itīs hard?
Board of the Arts Council.
Twenty-one letters.
Hester sat on that stool when he learned lettering.
He was sixteen, just like Reine.
He was so sweet.
And you donīt mind helping someone in a wheel-chair.
Good boy.
I was a ballet dancer. Do you like dancing?
Letīs dance sometime.
Yes, letīs.
Stig, blast him! The key.
He chose death before the crowds. The Master.
The Greatest.
Weīre alike.
The Master.
To Ronnie from his son.
Are you watching properly?
- Mind you donīt fall! - Quiet!
Now for the start.
Are you watching?
Here I am, Ronnie Petterssonīs son.
I think he ought to stop.
- Let him try. - Itīs no fun now.
Absolute greatest possible silence.
Music.
Little scamp, heīs pretending.
Well girls, back to work.
Helene has a way with little boys.
You must quit as soon as possible.
I like it here.
I have nothing against you, but youīre being exploited here.
Itīs nice here.
- Have you been paid? - I will be later.
When business is better, eh?
Reine, youīre not needed here.
Another thing:
Why do you think Helene rubs her arms like that
when she looks at you?
Sheīs very unhappy.
Imagine wanting to be a dancer and having that handicap.
Never having intimate relations.
And now with you here.
Helene wants to die.
Itīs her greatest wish. To die.
But she doesnīt wish to. Such people are dangerous.
Watch out for Helene!
Iīve been waiting for you. Are you coming?
Iīve got that feeling again.
As if I could get up and walk.
Reine, if...
If you were grown up and I could dance...
Would you like me then?
Oh, another epidemic?
We were sent home for Midsummer.
Then Mum will be along soon, eh?
Sheīll be very late.
Then weīll sit and wait.
Weīre going to go sailing.
Itīs Midsummer.
Mum, you and I.
Itīs a pal of mine and his girlfriend.
A posh boat he has too.
- Another vodka please. - And your son?
Son, eh? What will you have, Reine?
Have another Cola.
Weīll go sailing.
Uddevalla, did you say?
That means taking the train to Gothenburg.
Yes, the night train.
Itīll be late.
Itīs Midsummer. Cheers.
Cheers for your Mum.
Question No. 1. Is there a God.
Thatīs a deep one.
Is there a God?
Who is my dad? Stig isnīt my dad.
Cheer up, Reine.
You have no dad, eh?
You should have seen my dad. Bloody hell.
The beatings I got.
Forget it.
Tomorrow we go sailing.
You and I and Mum.
Tomorrow we go sailing.
Can you sail?
Look!
Where do you think heīs going to sleep?
How have you planned it, eh?
Why didnīt you fix another girl when Harriet couldnīt come?
Tricked. Bloody well tricked.
You should have one in reserve on a night like this.
I do my share for Christīs sake. What do you do?
Not a damn piss. Bring this brat along.
How do you like that, eh?
Midsummer and no one to fuck.
That kidīs squirting ketchup on my deck.
Christ. Itīll stain it!
What the hell do you think youīre doing?
- What are you doing? Youīre crazy. - Little bastard.
Take it easy, heīll float up. He can swim.
Little bastard, squirting ketchup on the deck.
Where is he?
Oh God, where is he?
Damn the kid. Dive, Nora.
I canīt swim.
Donīt stand there. Come and help.
Why donīt you dive?
He mustnīt die.
Christ, you know I canīt swim.
What a feeling.
I know Iīm alive.
To die before the crowds, perhaps he was meant to.
Robbie Pettersson, he died before the crowds.
Record of three minutes. I nearly had it.
An angel came and helped me. Nora.
Darling.
Why will you never get married?
If I do
itīll be with someone whoīs as pure as an angel.
Almost like a doll.
I work with dolls.
Dummies in shop windows.
The kind without any hair?
- How old are you? - Eleven on 14 August.
Same birthday as me.
Shall we spend it together?
Yes, letīs. You can come to my place.
Ask for Nora.
What was that?
Look! Fireworks.
I love fireworks.
Letīs go for a trip together.
Iīve met a pal who has the same birthday as me.
Weīre going to celebrate it with fireworks.
Weīre collecting empty bottles.
All over.
Donīt tell them that Iīve paid for them.
Reine, come home with me.
Everyone who sees you will say:
Youīre the most beautiful theyīve seen.
You keep your floating walk.
And every step you take is like walking on a sharp knife.
If you want to suffer all this
I will help you,
said the little mermaid, thinking of the prince.
No hair there, and none there. Good.
One more day to live pure
then itīs all over. Damn.
My last summer as a child.
I must make the most of it.
Then Iīll be hooked by lust.
I wonīt be caught by it.
Poor grown-ups.
They stop thinking then.
- I donīt drink like you. - The wages.
What about my installments, Mum?
The old car was all right.
Hell, Mum, I had to move up.
There are two Cadillacs in town, oneīs mine.
Bugger the lift. People look at me.
Thatīs power.
Itīs my life, see. Bloody hell.
I canīt go on.
Fire one of the women, there are too many anyway. Fucking lift.
Tell that kid youīve got to take a holiday.
Get rid of him somehow.
Fucking rockets, Iīll take them.
How the hell do you afford them?
Lousy sod.
The longest time a volunteer has endured complete solitude
without any form of stimulus to the senses
is 92 hours.
World record for voluntarily staying under water
is 13 minutes.
Come and see the play about the Virgin Mary.
Tonight we present the play about Mary.
Whoīd like to dance with Mary?
Loveīs mother.
Theater is power!
Whoīd like to dance with the Virgin Mary?
The pure Virgin.
Who will be the first to dare?
Who will be the first?
And the angel began to preach to heaven.
Dear Mum, what do you think
we have our own theater here at the camp.
Weīre playing "Jesus Christ Superstar"
Iīve been given the lead.
Can he do Bjorn Borg in the next play? As a kid.
Canīt you do Bjorn Borg?
Heīs wonderful. Reine, you have a job.
The Master.
Charlie Chaplinīs son plays Bjorn Borg as a kid.
Straighten up. Let me see.
Smile. Good.
I have an idea.
Stick your chin out
and youīll be more like Bjorn Borg.
Stick your chin out and close your eyes.
Itīs something about the hair?
I know what it is. It must be cut.
Cut? Do you think so?
Marie, see that Reine gets his hair cut.
This is a political ploy, see?
The sports movement as a system for elimination.
As a competitive amplifier, see?
Itīs about practical fascism.
Here we see Bjorn Borg being forced
into the backhand corner.
He has to let go of his two-hand grip
to reach the ball. Itīs a big stretch.
- Youīre sweet, Reine. - Yes, thatīs fine.
Bjorn Borg 11 years old with a hair cut.
Reine, we didnīt mean to laugh.
24 July, afternoon. Man is a swine.
To be in control of things is to be alone.
Is there a hell? Donīt know for sure.
Is there anyone else but me?
Weīve a kid here whoīs lost his key.
- His motherīs away. - Is he doped?
Well, his eyes are glazed. Over.
Take him to the hospital then. Over.
Weīll check an address first we got from a neighbor.
He says a Stig Uttler has a key.
You can go.
Heīll take care of me.
What is it?
I want my key.
- Can I have the key? - He says thereīs a key here.
Your key? Oh, yes...
Will you take the kid home?
No, weīve got other things to do.
Who is it?
Mum?
Man is swine.
Is there a pure man? Donīt know.
Do I exist? Hardly.
Is it important? Donīt know.
Letīs have a little talk.
Weīll talk tomorrow morning.
Good night.
Iīll give up looking for answers.
Iīll look for the questions to the answers. Death.
Blow it all up. Wake me in the year 2000.
The power and the glory. Amen.
I shall be powerful.
Give others the creeps.
They will all do as I say.
Hell...
Come and help me.
Come and help me, I say.
Help me with my leg, I canīt move it.
Where are my rockets?
What bloody rockets? Come and help me with my leg.
Donīt you recognize me?
- Iīm Reine. - Want to see something?
Wooden leg, see?
But I have a Cadillac.
Come and put your weight on me.
- Doesnīt it hurt? - No.
- What about my rockets? - Theyīre in the trunk.
- Iīm going to dance. - Can you?
Bet your bloody life I can.
I know a bird whoīs alone out there.
Show her to me. Then you can ride with us.
Come on, piss off.
This is as far as we go.
Piss off!
Whatīs to become of me?
Mumīs worried.
Sheīll be wondering where I am.
Canīt you drive me home?
Clear off! Go on!
10 August, morning.
Bloody murderer.
Iīll soon show you.
Iīm going to be powerful, hard, cold.
Dangerous.
What are you most afraid of?
Not knowing who I am.
Not existing.
What now then?
Good thing you let me in.
Everything else is just dirt and fraud.
You are pure.
Only you have no intestines...
I may disappoint you.
I already have your present.
Tomorrowīs our birthday.
Tomorrow weīll take our trip.
- Give me my shoes. - No.
Itīs our birthday.
- I canīt go barefoot. - Canīt you go out?
- I may want to dance. - Letīs stay here.
- Arenīt we going to eat? - Iīm not hungry.
14 August, evening.
Weīre celebrating with a dance.
What a feeling!
My mate over there needs a girl.
We need help. Youīre a smart guy, eh?
Youīre one of the Death Gang.
Iīm here with my girl.
- With your girl? - Cola, Nissa?
My nameīs not Nissa.
Ever tasted Finnish Cola?
I wasnīt half thirsty.
I must go now.
Have another swig. Go on.
- Got a match? - Yes.
Good job, Nissa.
Are you going to bed?
Heīll go soon.
That girl of yours. Canīt you bring her here?
Sure.
You screw her, I bet.
Every night.
Tell us how you do it.
How do you do it?
The usual way - in and out.
Randy Nissa. Whatīs she like?
You donīt think Iīve screwed her, but I have.
Little Piss-Nissa hard at it, eh?
Tell me another one. You havenīt fucked her.
Youīre just a little shit. A little Piss-Nissa.
A nobody. Youīre nothing.
Iīll bloody well show you.
- You hold my head down. - Sure. 3 minutes.
A nobody. Youīre nothing.
What a feeling.
3 minutes under water.
First child in Guinness Book of Records.
Iīm alive. Iīm somebody.
The daily check-up has shown a negative result.
One hair visible on scrotum and penis.
To hell with it.
One more day to live.
End message. Best wishes, Reine Larsson, almost twelve.