Genre: Drama
112 min

In memoriam Latinovits Zoltn

I, Csontvry Kosztka Tivadar

who renounced his youth in

exchange for the world's renewal

at the time I accepted

the holy ghost's calling

I already had

a decent civil job

confort and abundance.

But I left my country

because I needed to leave it

by the single reason

to see it thriving and glorious

at the twilight of my days.

To attain my purpose

for years I have travelled

Europe, Africa and Asia

searching for

the prophesized truth

and practice it's transference

into painting.

I refrained from advertising

because I did not care

about the kuffar's press.

Instead, I withdrew

to the top of Lebanon

where I painted cedars.

Like this, in solitude, quietly

my head covered in autumn

I can only ponder

to what end

wage this great hatred?

Knowing that into heaven

burdened by might and wealth

nobody ever gained admission.

Without a God, I ask -

what is man's purpose on Earth?

Did you get special approval

for visiting at night?


I have a special approval -

assignment - mission -

task - obligation - quest -

and it only concerns me.

Maybe you will have company.

Man imagines

all kinds of things.

He imagines he's alone

or he imagines others are with him.

I imagine that I am myself -

and the things

are rising above me.

We imagine every kind

of important stuff.

Mister Artist, you are

destroying your stomach...

Eat before, alright?

No, I don't want to.

Give me back my shirt.

But... you draped me in it

didn't you?

Be kind and turn away...


What a man am I.

What a man.

They just make me play

what already happened.

Mister Artist, don't torment yourself.

You are admired by the whole world.

Last night

you told such wonderful

stories about the painter you play...

Artists are

exceptional people.

Of course, I will step out

of Mister Artist's life.

- Yeah?

- Don't be mad at me.

And thanks.


Why do you always need

to lead such a conditional life?

My good Lord...

Tell me, donkey -

do I love you dearly?

I love you.

I love you dearly.

My greatest joy

would be served -

if... if I could do it...

if I had the power...

the energy...

and would build up in Hungary

the Sanctuary of Geniuses.

Where everybody could

experiment at large

in a carefree

and informal manner.

Noo no no...

It is not my aim

to win appreciation.

It is not my aim

to be celebrated, to be discovered!

This is not

what is needed.

It's not even about the

works I could create.



I am thinking about...

those people... individuals...


who are truly chosen!

Who are split apart

by the energy of their genius!

And yet,

they have problems confronting

their everyday problems,

their livelihoods.

And at home and abroad...

living in misery...

they fall into depravity!

It is them who

we should take care of!

I will establish the

Ophelia Sanatorium.

The asylum where people may evade,

from the coming healthy world,

to find a place where, finally,

they can get sick.

From the world in which

health will become contagious

they can escape

to that sanatorium where

they can get intimate

with the blessings of disease.

Schopenhauers and Nietzsches

will be born there

Mohammeds and Napoleons!

And if I smartly dose the alcohol -

Bismark, Kemny Zsigmond,

Munkcsi, Poe, Musset, Handel

will I heal into

this bitterly healthy world.

It is not my aim

to win appreciation.

No! It is not my aim to

become discovered and celebrated!

It's not even about the

works I could create in the future!

No, I am thinking about those,

those individuals, who are truly chosen!

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    "Csontvary" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 18 May 2021. <https://www.scripts.com/script/csontvary_6134>.

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