De frigjorte Page #4

won't bring us any good.

I'll give the floor

to the solicitor, Mr. Sindballe.

I've been assigned to tell you

that the factory is closing.

It's been evident to everyone

that things have been unacceptable, -

and everyone is free

to take other work from today.

Does that mean we're sacked?

I repeat. Everyone is free.

Free to take other work and...

Listen. I'm the shop steward

and on the Board.

I haven't heard anything.

I'm the Chairman of the Board

of the SP Group.

The decision was made centrally.

The Board was told -

and you, too... We're moving

part of the production to Portugal.

What the hell is going on?

I stand up in defiance

Come on, Viggo.

Cheer up. It's just bad luck.

- I don't know.

Not even a hint.

- I hadn't heard a thing.

We've been screwed.

300,000 unemployed. One, two, three,

four, five, six, seven. 300,007.

And they call that democracy?

- What's the union for?

Now there's time

to have fun the wife.

What's up with the labour movement?

- It's not moving.

A professional is always needed.

- This one is on me. Waiter?

I'm a Muslim. I don't drink.

- You'll have a natural beer, then.

There's no alcohol in

the ones with the elephant.

We ought to start something.

- A dancing school.

Those damned foreign workers.

They steal our work. My work.

No, you can get a job

in my cousin's kiosk, too.

Sure...

Well, Oda. My peach.

My wonderful, funny girl.

Don't get nervous, but your

dear husband has been sacked.

Thrown out.

His machine is quiet and rusting.

Dump Viggo in the container

with all of the others.

Up yours, Viggo.

They can close their crap.

They can go to hell

with their merger. Traitors.

Is that you, Viggo?

- Who did you think it was?

Pavarotti?

Should I heat up your dinner?

- No thanks. No.

You could have called.

Sure. How is the research coming?

Well. I've finally

received an answer -

about the fourth generation.

Peter Olufsen, and he was a priest.

A priest?

- Yes.

And his wife, that is your

great-great-grandfather's wife...

I love you, Oda.

What do I care?

Let the dead rest in peace.

All that old crap.

Her name was Srine, and she was

from a big family of farmers.

Really?

- Yes.

How interesting.

Where were you, Viggo?

- We had to celebrate something.

A birthday?

- No.

You've been drinking.

- You bet I've been drinking.

Iversen won the lottery?

Come on, Viggo.

I'm not working tomorrow.

- Do you have the day off?

You haven't been sacked?

No, Viggo, they can't sack you.

Everyone's been sacked. Sent home.

Free to take other work.

Free. Go to hell.

The factory is closing.

I'm just realizing it now.

Out. Thrown out.

The whole lot of us got

a great big kick in the arse.

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