Saraband

Johan became a multimillionaire|in his old age.

An old Danish aunt...

who had been a renowned|opera singer...

left him a fortune.

Once he became financially|independent, he left the university.

He bought his grandparents'|summer house.

A run-down chalet in an|isolated area near Orsa.

Johan and I|haven't had any contact

with each other|for many years.

Our daughters are far away,|even from me.

Martha lives in a home,

sinking in the isolation|of her illness.

I visit her now and then,|but she doesn't recognize me.

And Sarah... Sarah married|a successful lawyer...

and then moved to Australia where|they have very good jobs.

They don't have any children.

Me?

I still practice my profession,|but at the pace I choose.

Family quarrels and divorces mostly.

I've been thinking I|should visit Johan.

ONE|Marianne carries out her plan

I've been thinking...|I should visit Johan.

And now I'm here.

He's sitting there,|at the porch.

And I've been standing here,|watching him and...

waiting,|at least ten minutes.

Maybe I should have ignored|this irrational impulse.

This trip.

In fact,|I'm not an impulsive person at all.

But here I am...

And so I must decide:

Slowly return to my car...

or get close to him.

Of course, I could stay|here a while longer...

and let my confusion abate.

But not very long.|A minute more!

This minute is taking its time.

No!

- Did I wake you?|- It's you, Marianne.

- Hi!|- No, don't get up.

- Typical, you were spying on me.|- That's not true.

We haven't seen each other in 30 years.|32 years!

- We simply lost track of|each other. - That's natural.

People start together,

then they separate|and talk by phone...

- and finally silence.|- So sad!

- Was that a reproach?|- No, we had nothing to say to each other.

Then suddenly you call me|and tell me you want to visit.

- You didn't sound very keen.|- Keen? I said no.

I still say no. I don't want this.|No. But you don't care.

- I had to come.|- Why?

- I won't tell you.|- You're laughing.

Johan...

I've driven 340 km....

and managed to find your hideout...

in the middle of the jungle.

Now that I've seen and kissed you|and we've spoken I can leave.

That won't be enough.|Really?

- At least you can stay over|for dinner. - Why?

A week ago,|I told Mrs. Nilsson...

that my ex wife was coming|to visit.

I can't tell her suddenly that there'll|be no dinner. She'll go crazy.

- Who's Mrs. Nilsson?|- Agda. Agda Nilsson.

Are you and her a couple?

God forbid!

The two of you live all alone here|in the midst of a dark forest?

Mrs. Nilsson lives in|the village.

She cleans and cooks|and then goes home.

- She's religious and mean.|- There's no romance then.

To be honest,|I fear the hag.

I fear that she might want to marry me.|Anyway, stay for dinner.

She's made up the guest room,

so you have to stay|and spend the night.

I suppose I better accept.

It's so hard to get up from|this chair. No, don't help me.

What's wrong, Johan?

I'm trying to put|my arms around you.

Want to hug me?

Damn, Johan!

Old idiot!

- And how old are you?|- I don't know, and you?

- 86.|- No, not you, me!

Around 55.

- I'm 63.|- Really? That many?

And I've had my uterus|and ovaries removed.

- Does that trouble you?|- Yes, sometimes.

Let's sit on the bench.

It's so beautiful!

When beauty is revealed...|in life, in creation...

Where is the source, the giver?|Beauty forever.

- I didn't know you knew some psalms.|- My grandmother taught me.

And my grandfather rewarded me|with little iron soldiers.

We can enjoy the view,

- hold hands...|- Are we going to hold hands?

- Didn't we used to do it?|- Yes, I believe so.

I haven't done it since...|I've stopped doing it.

You really have|a beautiful view.

Can you see the lake|house from here?

You can see the light reflected,|behind the rocks.

I drove by the lake house|coming here. It looks inhabited.

You could say that.|Henrik is there.

Yes, Henrik. Mi dear son.|The assistant professor.

- Are you on speaking terms?|- Not exactly.

I got a brief letter declaring that|he was planning on moving there.

He and his daughter Karin have|been there since late April.

You don't have much contact then.

Absolutely. A cordial conversation|if we run across each other.

- Fat boy Henrik!|He must be... - 61 !

- My God!|- You can say that again!

- And his daughter Karin?|- Karin is 19.

Her mother died of|cancer two years ago.

- Anna...|- Tell me.

Anna and Henrik were|married for 20 years.

He couldn't take her death.|He retired before his time.

I heard they were happy|to get rid of him.

He felt mistreated there.

- Like you, at that age.|- Me? No...

Well, yes, I was a bit fed up|with the academic standards silliness.

My honorary doctorate|from the University of Michigan...

finished all that.|- We were talking about Henrik.

He directs an orchestra called|"Uppsala Chamber Soloists".

But he'll quit that also.

He must do something.

I think he's writing a book.

- What about the daughter? Karin?|- Karin also plays the cello.

She'll audition for the|conservatory in the fall.

Henrik is teaching her.

They sit in the house with|their cellos every day.

You could say she's beautiful.|Like her mother.

Yes.

So...I know nothing|about our daughters.

- Sarah is in Australia.|- Australia?!

- Yes, Australia. - Well, she|managed to get far away.

I get letters and|phone calls from her.

She's fine. A good|law firm. A good husband.

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