Here comes a movie and, if it already looks a bit weird.
Then hang in there, because anyone can see it.
Although you see my reflection. Trust me.
This film won't be worth a moment's reflection.
It's a comedy, and harmless as such. No preaching or swaying of opinion.
Just a cozy time. So why not poke fun at artsy-fartsy culture?
So here we have a self-important out-of-work actor
who, by miraculous chance, got a job. A very special job.
Hello. So we finally meet. I'm the company president.
I've given Mr. Ravn power of attorney to conclude the deal.
Hello again..."Optional."
- Kristoffer? Butterflies? - No.
Let's get this done. It's our non-disclosure agreement.
You said you'd never written for the stage?
May I ask why? This text is succinct and intense.
- But it says far more than it says. - Really?
I had hoped it would say as little as possible.
The sanctions might seem drastic, but that's law for you.
The main thing is that you keep this a secret.
- Secret? - But you're used to that.
You don't shoot someone on stage and tell the crowd: "I'm only acting."
I don't know.
That particular statement applies to many of Gambini's anti-characters.
- I'm your man, Ravn. - Great. You're playing the boss.
I'm in a bit of a pinch
because the real boss is... not accessible.
We must act now. The Icelanders are so damn pushy.
It won't take too long,
so you'll be making quite a bundle,
seeing as you're not working. Sign here.
I don't keep busy just to be busy.
- It's not illegal or anything! - Legal or illegal, I don't care.
I'm an actor. The character is my law. And the script is my court.
Court? Let's pray it never gets that far.
Excellent... Your money.
- What's that on your forehead? - Soot.
I always rely on Gambini. You can't go wrong.
The Hanged Cat?
The chimney sweep's monologue from A Town without Chimneys.
- You know it? - I only know Top Cat.
"I have traveled far, and with reluctance, to this town."
Our president doesn't have soot on his forehead.
The things a character doesn't have define him more than what he has.
Theater begins to unfold itself at the point where it ends.
Don't make me nervous, Kristoffer.
Let's keep it simple.
I'll just endow my character with a small tribute to Gambini.
Fine! It won't make any difference. You're only the boss for a moment.
Then there's the pauses... So vital to our understanding.
He could actually not say anything at all.
You have to say what's on the page.
Otherwise, what's the point? Just what's on the page.
Hello. So we finally meet. I'm the company president.
I finally tracked him down.
This is Finnur...
"Hello. So we finally meet. I'm the company president."
Hello. So we finally meet. I'm the company president.
Yes, both you gents are indeed company presidents.
But for two different companies.
"Why do Danes talk so much?
"No wonder this country came to a halt intellectually 200 years ago.
"They yak away or are drippingly sentimental.
"The rest of the time they giggle."
"Let's for God's sake get started, Mr. Ravn."
Dear Mr. President -
and I'm referring to our own little president -
We're happy just to have a president.
I want to say the following...
Our president has requested to be kept out of the negotiations.
Did I get that right?
The price is our top priority.
And we've already agreed on it.
I have...
turned over...
power...
of attorney...
to Mr...
Ravn.
I'm sorry... I didn't quite get that.
The pauses confused me.
Would you mind repeating it a bit quicker?
I have turned over power of attorney to Mr. Ravn.
Once our president's mind is made up, no amount of ruckus can change it.
Mr. President...
All these presidents! Should we call ours "the Danish president"?
Icelandic or Danish... Same thing!
- 400 jolly years under Icelandic rule. - It was the other way round.
It sure as hell didn't feel that way to us.
No.
Well, I better get back to the States.
Just because I'll sign on the 12th doesn't make it less fun.
"You fucking Danes aren't getting off that lightly.
"It's all talk, fucking slave drivers!
"Fortunately the sagas left us these wise words:
"He who deals with stooges deals with nobody."
- Goodbye. - Finnur!
"I insist that the president
"deal with me on the 12th. Not his stooge.
"He'll have to stay home that week or there's no deal.
"You'll be hearing from my lawyer."
Bye then..."Optional."
Hello. So we finally meet. I'm the company president.
Shit! They weren't supposed to see you.
- Word will spread like wildfire. - They could tell I wasn't for real.
- They had no time to tell Finnur... - That's not the problem.
They looked shocked because they thought you were the real president.
Well, I did play him well.
Although you didn't give me much to work with.
If the performance is topnotch
physical resemblance has less significance.
The physical resemblance with their president of ten years is irrelevant.
They've never seen him.
- Never seen him? - No.
- I don't quite get it. - If I wasn't such a wuss.
Companies need presidents. I didn't have it in me.
I couldn't see myself as one.
So when I started the company I told them I was an employee.
That the president was tending to his companies and lived in the States.
I know it's strange and suspicious. A boss that I invented, Kristoffer.
It was fine as long as no one wanted to talk to him.
Then that fucking Icelander came along. They don't trust anyone.
Strange... They called Gambini strange too.
Look... I told you I was your man.
I am... And not just any man. I'm an actor.
That's exactly what you need to make your world work.
- It's only a week. I'll write a contract. - No need.
It's a hobby of mine.
This deal is vital to the company. The slightest doubt...
I have considerable training in sensing doubt in the minds of my audience.
- You'll have to meet the staff. - Being seen is part of the job.
- If you talk, I'll slaughter you! - Stop fussing.
Heidi A? Would you get the six seniors together?
I want you to meet someone special.
They're the six I started out with.
Here at last... The boss of it all.
He took a week out of his schedule to be with us in Denmark.
Probably because deep down inside he's... Danish.
And perhaps he feels he has...
maybe not abandoned, but neglected our little branch.
Yes, that's understandable.
That's understandable.
Yes, that is understandable.
So there's lots for you to talk about.
I guess I'll stick my tail between my legs, as they say...
and scoot on back to my office.
Any questions?
What's your name?
- My name? - Yes.
No one's ever called you anything but "the boss of it all."
Some of the girls had the honor of getting emails with specific details.
Let me make it clear that it's been at random,
who I needed to write directly to over the years.
There's no personal preference there.
Holy smoke... One does have to be careful.
- His name is Svend. - Svend E.
That's what my emails said. What does the E stand for?
Didn't I write that? Ravn didn't say?
For ten years? Never, ever?!
That's good news. Because that means...
I can tell you that I have a name I'm very partial to...
and proud of.
Ecker...
Eckersberg... Svend Eckersberg.
- And what should I call you? - Gorm wants to call you Svend.
Gorm may call me whatever he likes.
Gorm may even call me Kristoffer, if he likes.
Why should he call you Kristoffer?
No, why on earth should he? Why in the world should he?
- By all means, call me Svend. - OK, Svend.
I'd like to say one thing.
- Autumn in the country is muggy. - Gorm, don't.
Real muggy! I want you to know that.
People generally think autumn has a freshness to it.
No, Gorm!
- Are you done now? Huh?! - Everything's cool.
- Are you done? - Yeah. Sorry, sorry.
Everything is perfectly fine.
Stop it!
Boy, that's nasty.
I'm afraid you'll have to apologize.
Should I apologize to him?!
Don't forget the tech conference tomorrow.
Tech conference...
Ravn... They're all completely insane.
- We need to talk. - On neutral ground! I'll call you.
OK.
If my character's name is Svend, for example,
then I'd like to know.
- I just want to be in the loop. - Sure.
The names didn't really matter.
Gorm is a country boy. He sometimes suffers from rural depression.
- But he's a wizard with Brooker 5. - What the hell is that?
Our flagship, our biggest seller. That's what we started out with.
My character doesn't like when they cry, shout or hit.
My personal space has been violated.
I must insist on control. They must be subdued.
The six seniors can be a bit of a hassle.
They're the creative bunch in the firm.
I don't know about the psychology of actors, but I imagine it's similar.
So things are that bad?
I love them dearly. Although they have knocked me around a bit.
It can't be as bad as Slagelse in 1992.
Though I did talk the women ticket holders down after the show.
I didn't know Slagelse had a theater. And they didn't, artistically speaking.
- What's wrong? What was that? - My mournful and remote look.
- It must terrify people. - Yes, it's effective.
The six seniors were more feisty than I'd expected.
This tech conference sounds ominous.
Tell me about what you do, so I can learn the lingo.
IT.
That's impossible to grasp! I don't stand a chance.
Good thing you're such a good actor.
You're prepared now. Subdue them, take control.
All right?
Wow...
It's quite a shocker when the copy machine starts.
Luckily it's not that often. Only a thousand times a day.
How's the weather out in the country today?
Well, let's just assume
that it's wintry like it is throughout the country.
Looking for your office?
I figured the office would be a safer bet than the corridors.
Safer? What do you mean?
So people can find me. Since I'm here rather seldom.
So you want to see them? I told them to wait. I'll pass it on.
- Thanks. - Jokumsen is waiting outside.
I don't know how he found out you were here.
It's the deficiency list for the DB 7 patch.
I doubt if he's lightened up since he last complained.
Should we push Jokumsen till after the tech conference?
Sorry. He's acted as our boss when the boss wasn't here.
We start off with the management's visions.
I'd like to hear more about the visions.
I studied the old corporate philosophy.
And, as such, certain technical and strategic measures seem most unclear.
Transaction hierarchy... Why not? The 80:20 rule. Agile development.
That's just a minor part of the terms necessary
to define IT at an acceptable level.
Aside from those fucking terms,
what's the boss' definition of transaction hierarchy?
And the 80:20 rule? Maybe I dozed off, but what is it?
"Agile development" is defined in seven or eight different ways.
How would you define it?
Define... "Dictate," I'm tempted to say.
There is a very fine line between defining and dictating.
And it all boils down to whether the boss wants to dictate.
Or rather whether the boss has any idea what we do in this company.
Or whether you have any idea what we do at this company.
- I should certainly say so. - What, then?
- What? - What we do?
Didn't you prepare a presentation? What do we do?
- This and that. In general? - Yes, for example.
Uhh...
Uh...
Hi, everyone. I just have a practical announcement.
Oh, Nalle... Such a pouty face. Come on.
Upsy-daisy... and a big hug.
What was the practical nature of your announcement, Ravn?
The trip to Kullen is off.
But we were going because we didn't go last year.
Can anybody tell me... what... that?
- Keep quiet, Spencer. - Work on it.
I am afraid the decision came from above.
I know it reflects a hard policy about perks.
I'm sure there's a perfectly good reason.
The reason we're not going is because the boss of it all says so.
"Because the boss of it all says so." That's a fucking old line.
Why don't the six of us just take our rights to Brooker 5 and leave?
- Be nice, Gorm. - But you're not nice to us.
We all agree we'd be far better off without the fucking boss of it all.
Let's not dampen the good mood. It's my fault. And this conference
is not for debating whether the boss is a hard-ass or not.
Let's hear what Svend has to say.
- Svend? - Come on, Svend!
We usually get the sales figures, though not at the tech conference.
Maybe you can give us an idea, if you've seen them.
- Of course I have seen them. - So how do they look?
They're shit.
Now it's finally out. They're shit.
They're piss.
They're pig swill.
We need to turn this ship round!
Those figures had better look completely different.
- Now it's out in the open. - There, Mette.
But the figures look fine in your mails.
Did Mette say they were fine?
All I can say, Mette,
is that they aren't good enough.
Far, far from it, Mette.
- Now poor Mette is crying again. - There, Mette.
They're just numbers.
They are lined up outside. You want to see Lise and Spencer, or Jokumsen?
Anyone but Jokumsen. His complaint seems legitimate.
- Lise is our HR representative. - Sure, why not?
- Spencer has something to say. - We will work longer...
- No longer. - No longer.
We will no longer accept thighs...
- These. ...working conditions.
It's easier for me to say it when you can't say it properly.
He means "working conditions."
Our working conditions are dreadful. So is the personnel policy.
Other companies have perks. Here's a list.
Would you mind leaving, Heidi?
All the way out.
So you are affiliated with certain biker circles.
I would be naive to think
their racket is limited to small shopkeepers.
With the Hell's Angels up your sleeve,
your demands require a different approach. But keep quiet about it.
HR. HR.
Human Resources. You've been in the States so long,
you can't remember what it means. I'll look it up for you in English.
You can tell me.
You can fess up.
I discussed it with the others. We think you have a credibility problem.
Your personality gives you away.
You're not who you pretend to be.
I think you should come clean.
You think that's a wise thing to do at this point?
- You think so? - Yes.
It wouldn't change much. You're so transparent.
All your lines really lack cred.
It's lousy acting from start to finish.
My lines lack cred?
You are too much! Let's not forget "lousy acting."
That's when audiences are shook up.
Don't they get that the point of comedy nowadays
is to reveal the comedy?
Disaster has already struck. It's all in the aftermath.
People just want things to be credible and natural. Give me a fucking break!
- You have a credibility problem. - No, I don't.
- Yes, you do. - No, I don't.
I don't know much about you, but I know what you aren't.
Then tell me what I'm not, for fuck's sake!
Gay.
- Gay? - Yes, gay.
It's not so much that you try to make me think you're gay,
but you also pretend to be oblivious to IT, management,
and even Human Resources. Hell's Angels. Honestly!
Of course you're an expert, otherwise you would never have made it this big.
- Am I right? - Yeah.
Why would you think I was gay?
All those emails you sent me, distancing yourself from me.
- And you got Ravn to plant the idea. - What pleasure would I get from that?
The same you get from looking like a complete jackass, professionally.
To seem interesting or make us feel sorry for you.
You hit home with that one.
The thing about pretending to be completely oblivious to IT,
it was a bit naive, I admit.
- But I am gay. - You don't seem gay at all.
That's how some of us are. And it's not to win you over.
Sorry about that.
I've been a cornholer since birth.
There is no explanation for it.
But rather a poop pusher than a dry old stick.
I can explain why you've always gone for men.
You haven't met the right woman yet.
On neutral ground, ASAP.
I'm exhausted, fumbling in the dark. No control whatsoever.
It would be easier if I knew what I had said or written in my past.
I mean, gay! You could have told me.
- Dammit, Ravn! - You're right.
But only Lise's president is gay.
You told them different things?!
I hear you.
- You told them different things? - I understand the question.
Are you a complete idiot?
It created a good vibe.
Everyone felt he belonged to them. And in that sense, he did.
- And that IT shit? I don't get it. - Me neither.
- You're doing great. - You think?
Stick it out a couple of more days.
Take my advice, Kristoffer. Don't take it so seriously.
All that stuff about controlling and subduing is probably fine,
but it's easier not to.
Make the audience do the work.
Then you won't feel so stressed out.
Just say yes. When they come to you - "Yes."
Maybe not so artistic, but it works.
Say yes! But that's improvisational theater.
Like when some jackass gets it into his head he should put on a dress,
and we all have to applaud it. Gambini didn't believe in it.
To him, improvisation was just kowtowing to the parlor drama.
Gambini was one of the first to see through Ibsen. Ibsen was a moron!
Too prim to grab disaster by the throat.
Why not go straight to soap?
With all its sentimentality and fucking clichés.
"This is not adieu, but au revoir!" Or shit like that. It's bull.
- It's bull. Bull. - Sure.
Calm down.
I'm sorry. You know best. It's your character and idea.
And the idea is God. Even Hitler's.
If you want improvisation and group theater, I'll give it to you.
I'll say yes, until you choke on it.
But not to Jokumsen. He has had a legitimate complaint for six years.
- Why didn't he come six years ago? - He did.
But the boss of it all wasn't in that day.
- Oh, I see. - And about those IT terms?
When they say "outsourcing," they mean "offshoring."
Piece of cake.
The cLib module performance issues are more extensive than we thought.
Bottlenecks throughout the system.
We should put far more validations client-side.
Outsourcing is very tempting, but as the cLib module...
Excuse me.
You mean offshoring.
You said outsourcing, but you mean offshoring.
Of course. Thank you, Svend.
What does the boss of it all say? Do Nalle and Mette get a green light?
- You mean yes or no? - I think I can answer that.
We all can. "A third cheaper and we go ahead."
- Is Nalle right in his assumption? - Yes.
The boss of it all has spoken.
You just had to take Nalle down a peg.
Rap his knuckles with everyone watching. You're a real bastard.
Yes.
Upsy-daisy. And a big hug.
Cute, right? Like a little baby. No, wait, babies mean procreation,
and that entails screwing members of the opposite sex.
If you have any questions or requests of me,
then the answer might be yes.
Is there anything I can say? Or that anyone can say?
They might say yes.
Or yes, yes, yes.
- I've had it, Svend. You read me? - Yes.
You better! All your gay crap.
- I know when a man lusts after me. - Yes.
- You're such a tease. - Yes.
All those emails. "Be nice to Ravn, Lise. Take care of Ravn."
- They were meant to get me going. - Yes.
That faggy farce is all very well, but there are better fish to fry.
- Fine by me. - Yes.
- As long as you're in control, right? - Yes.
Right here, right now. The sooner the better.
- You male chauvinist pig. - Yes.
There will be no fucking till you get a proper blow-job.
And now, over the desk I go. That's just the way it is.
- Yes. - Right?
You like it best when I have no say in the matter.
Don't let it confuse you, but I have two holes.
- Yes. - Right.
So that's why they call you the boss of it all.
- You are a bastard. - Yes.
- Yes, yes, yes.
Is that all you can say?!
- Are you familiar with Gambini? - Who?
You look tired.
I told Jokumsen he couldn't see you today.
I told him to try again next week. Hope that's all right.
- That's fine, 'cause I won't be here. - Are you leaving again?
By the way, thanks for all your greetings from round the world.
They meant a lot to me.
And I've replied to all of them.
Apart from one.
Yes.
Yes, that's right.
There was one you didn't reply to.
Why didn't you?
- You want to talk about it now? - I'm here now.
That's true.
You're always making jokes about everything.
Sometimes it confuses me. I can't tell if you are joking.
Why would you think it was a joke?
It could hardly be anything else.
If it hadn't been a joke, what would you have said?
I think you know.
No. That's why I am asking.
- If it wasn't a joke... - Yes.
...I would have said yes.
That's nuts, seeing as we hardly know each other.
You don't seem thrilled about my yes.
Sorry. How stupid of me.
This is embarrassing.
That's why I didn't reply.
Of course it was a joke.
Yes, and it's funny.
I'm so stupid, I thought you meant it.
Sorry. I'm going all red.
I think that...
it's great that you would have said yes.
Not everyone would. I respect you for it.
My goodness. Great. Can we just forget about it?
I can't believe I was so ambiguous that you were in doubt.
It's not like me. It's not in character.
Sometimes we ask questions in jest that we'd like an answer to,
in case we ever ask for real.
I just thought there were real feelings there.
Come on!
You think I'd cover my bets like that?
And fish for an answer out of fear?
Does that sound like the boss of it all?
A man is a man, a word is a word, and a boss is a goddamn boss.
I didn't build an empire by farting around like that.
Heidi A. I remember that mail clearly.
If you ask me whether I meant it, the answer is yes.
And the question still stands.
- Damn right! - Oh.
"Oh" is right.
- I'm so happy. - If you're happy, I'm happy.
It wasn't just to keep me from quitting?
Of course not. What does that have to do with it?
And I didn't quit. I stayed with you.
- You did. - Mainly because of your email.
Yes, and I think it's time to knock off, even for the boss.
I'm glad we got that little matter sorted to our mutual satisfaction.
You look like something is bugging you again.
- Everything will be fine. - I'm just so happy you meant it.
Especially considering how little you know about me.
Isn't there anything you'd like to ask me?
Of course there is, Heidi A.
What does the A stand for? Not that it matters.
No, because now it'll be Heidi E.
Heidi Eckersberg.
All right, then.
Oh, no! Just as things were working out. Why this break?
Not to mention this primitive, pointless Z O O M?
I declare. No comedy without breaks.
Vitamins must be injected, however reluctant we are.
And who likes being the doctor with his syringe.
Interrupting a child's play? You're right. Yours truly.
And I hereby feel obliged to introduce a new character.
The boss is horny as hell.
There's probably still a slight trace
of homophilia in his dong.
The boss will be right with you.
How was the cred in that line, toots?
Not bad, "toots."
- Kisser! You don't work with IT. - The same goes for you.
I don't remember you looking this happy.
But we were only married for 5 years. Or was it 50?
Were you ever happy? Yes, when drooling over that Gambini jerk.
A hoax nobody's ever heard of.
A hoax in seven-league boots. With Gambini, disaster has already struck.
A one-act play, three hours long! The Chimney Sweep's Monologue!
Too much Christmas Carol for my taste.
- No wonder I couldn't stand you. - I couldn't stand you, either.
- Why not? - Peanuts.
You ate them with the shells on. They only do that in cartoons.
It drove me crazy! I bet you're here to get something.
- Come to win me back? - I don't want you back.
For something else, then. You're so damned efficient.
I bet you graduated even before you started. And got promoted.
I'm Finnur Sigurdsson's attorney.
Wow, capitalism!
Weren't you going to use your degree to fight it?
Yes, I believe I was.
Finnur mentioned me, but you forgot.
Life is a dogma film. It's hard to hear, but the words are still important.
I'm here to assess the likelihood of the president's presence tomorrow,
at the sales talks with my client.
So far, I have my doubts. All I know is you're not him.
Why couldn't I? Why couldn't I be the boss of it all?
Like the chimney sweep from The Town without Chimneys?
- Always with soot on his forehead. - Maybe you were wrong.
Maybe there is more to me than you saw back then.
Yes.
- But there isn't, is there? - No.
Not according to what they teach at law school.
What we learnt was more tangible.
Is that really the president, or isn't he the president?
All right, I'm a stand-in.
My lips are sealed. I signed a non-disclosure agreement.
A non-disclosure with old Ravn?
Dammit, Kristoffer!
He's really got you by the balls. He's a whiz with contracts.
Are you going to blow the whistle on me?
Then I'd have done it ten years ago when you started acting... toots.
- But I see you love the part. - I am good at it.
Seems so. And parts for you don't exactly grow on trees.
And it goes against your convictions to check things thoroughly.
- All you want is attention. - I keep these IT nerds in check.
So that the rightful owner can do business.
In law we say, "Too stupid for words." And that's you, if you believe Ravn.
Ravn is all right. We get along fine.
He loves his staff, but lacks the strength to be the boss.
He's a wuss, but not malicious.
Not unless he exploits the system to drive his staff to the utmost.
By blaming all the shit on this boss you can appear likable and noble.
- Why do you care? - I don't.
But once I saw a shred of decency in you.
You're not as bad as you'd like to be, Kristoffer.
You almost looked like you considered the moral aspects.
All of Ravn's dealings benefit the company
and thereby his staff. This is a good deal for their beloved workplace.
Possibly. And since Ravn is as noble as you perceive him to be,
I'm sure he has told his staff that their beloved workplace
is the subject of tomorrow's deal.
- Is Ravn selling the company? - Yes. Simple as that.
No, you didn't. You didn't manipulate me.
You've been quite the gentleman.
Even when I almost quit to work for our worst competitor.
You've laid into Ravn a few times.
He's looked a bit sad after a phone call from you.
Well...
I have to pop down...
to make some copies.
Does anyone else feel manipulated?
Not me, but Gorm does.
That was a serious blow.
He took it hard when you overruled him on the Brooker platform issue.
He'd spent two years on the other platform.
How can you even dictate things concerning the Brooker? It's ours.
Not me, but Nalle does. You were out of line.
You told him he never came prepared.
Then everyone started in on him. You knew he'd snap.
Hi. Can I ask you a question in English?
Danish.
- Let's do it in English. - No, Danish.
You took away his Danish lessons so he couldn't gossip in the corridors.
- Couldn't he just gossip in English? - Sure, but he didn't want to.
And me... Not apart from making me see to Ravn.
But that didn't benefit you.
- What about Ravn? - Our cuddly teddy bear?
You can't help loving him. Although he's pathetic at times.
Maybe I shouldn't mention it, but his personal finances are a mess.
- How do you know? - He said so.
Mostly at first. Then we discussed it and decided to lend him 25,000 each.
Not that it helped.
- Why not? - He hasn't paid us back yet.
- And there's Poor Mette. - Yeah.
You know what happened after you sacked her husband?
- No, I don't think so. - He hung himself.
With a printer cable. He couldn't take being excluded.
He begged to let him come back. Ravn told us about the letters he sent you.
But we had nothing for the guy.
No, that's life.
- And now she's Poor Mette. - Where is she?
In the copy room, I guess.
- Elisabeth, is the copier working? - Yes.
There.
It's pure fantasy. There has to be some rumors.
I deserve a bit of goodwill for starting the business.
They didn't stake the 150,000.
That's exactly what they did.
They all lent you money, and you used it to start the company.
- I know it looks a bit shady. - It sure does!
I'm the director, you're just the actor. Ask your character if the pieces fit.
I did, and I'm afraid they do.
If I'm really such an asshole
they're better off selling, so they're rid of me.
We have to sign the power of attorney.
I've stipulated a minimum price so you can't sell for less.
Kristoffer shouldn't put one over on Svend by selling for a buck.
- Don't I get to keep one? - If you insist.
I'm no better or worse than anyone else.
- I'm not so sure. - I feel so misunderstood.
I give and give. Do I get anything in return?
Rarely, rarely.
254 million. Not exactly peanuts.
Strindberg was misunderstood, too.
People were always talking.
They said he pushed his wife down the stairs.
- And he didn't? - Sure.
But that doesn't make him any less of a writer.
The account number is there, too. Very handy.
So our Nordic friends won't have to lug that cash around.
It's not the account number. It's the price.
That should more than cover it.
That's the estimated value of your company, sir.
Shall we sign?
There...
May I draw your attention to
a couple of places where I've simplified the text?
The clause about the staff not staying on.
Fine. I trust you completely.
The staff will stay on, right?
That's not what we agreed.
We're not getting stuck with a bunch of fucking Danes.
Mr. Ravn is the only employee who will stay on.
I also took out a couple of commas
on the transfer of the Brooker 5 patent from its owner, Mr. Ravn.
What do the other rights holders get?
Nothing.
Mr. Ravn has the sole rights.
The six seniors think they have rights, too.
Emotionally, maybe.
But legally, no.
They worked on the program, but that was their job.
Excuse me for a moment.
Some fresh air might be good.
It's all very touching, but you can't change anything.
If I don't sell to Finnur, I'll find another buyer.
And you can't screw me by selling cheaper. Come on.
- Mr. President. - All right. Let's seal the deal.
About time, too.
It's rather sad to have to part with all of this.
But as Mr. Ravn knows, I'm a businessman at heart.
Then let's get down to business.
I have really grown fond of this place.
It's been my stage for quite a few years now.
Lovely thoughts, but it's history. We have some contracts to sign.
Thanks, Ravn. Always so helpful.
At your service. Sign right there.
I'll move my finger so you can get on with it.
Don't you agree, Mr. Finnur? Mr. Ravn is very helpful.
I don't share your soppy Danish sentimentality.
All that's left is to sign.
A note to the lawyer who typed up the contract.
Putting the page number in the middle of the wording is a bad idea.
I don't know how you do things in Iceland...
It's not the page number. It's the purchase price.
My copy states the ridiculous sum of 254 million.
That's what we agreed on, for fuck's sake.
I can't sell my life's work for that. Surely you understand.
How much does the president want for his company?
- More than that. - How much more?
50 cents.
It's purely symbolic.
As a businessman, I like to feel I have profited.
We talk of free will, but we heed the machine within.
The machine that wants gold.
Ticktock, ticktock...
Sometimes a mere crumb can satisfy the hunger.
We'll have to retype the contracts.
We can amend them by hand.
I know it's a businessman's argument.
But, if I can get 50 cents more...
then I can get 50 million.
Mr. Finnur?
Finnur!
There it is!
The Town without Chimneys. It's been there all the time.
Everything comes together for an instant
only to be blown to bits in a Gambinian explosion.
Sadly, the oft-mentioned Gambini did not pen our little comedy.
His contempt would have distorted the genre beyond recognition.
No, I obey the laws of the genre.
However beautiful the sight of two men asking nothing of each other.
We know there are men who demand things of each other.
And these demands must be met before we can leave the cinema
and with a clear conscience forget everything we've seen.
- Why the fuck didn't you sign?! - Shh.
I understand your question.
Oh, really? It's a lot of money.
You piss me off!
- I'm sick of your moods. - You're firing them.
You neglected to say that. You're robbing them blind.
Brooker 5, whatever that is. You piss me off.
You're the company lawyer and their friend.
You should have told them they needed contracts.
They don't even suspect they're losing their jobs.
- It's a bit harsh. - No shit.
Let's just finish the deal.
That was the whole idea, but I'm willing to make a trade-off.
Confess! Tell them you're sacking them.
- I promise. - I don't trust you.
All you've done is trick me.
Sign this promise, confessing you're firing them and taking their rights.
I have done what I could.
I'm not thrilled about signing something.
The idea is God. You said so yourself. Even if Hitler was the writer.
At the time, I didn't know the writer was Hitler.
If you're serious about confessing, then sign it.
And a maximum price, to stop you pulling these stunts.
Shut up down there!
Today... is a very grave day.
I have decided to tell you something
I should have told you ages ago.
I can't do this...
- You don't have to say it. - Let him get on with it.
Yes, I do.
Who never lets us down?
Ravn
In whose arms do we drown?
Ravn's
Who deserves the crown?
Ravn, Ravn, Ravn...
You're all so sweet. It just makes it worse.
If it's really important, just get it over with.
- You'll be angry. - We'll be angrier if you don't.
I've been planning something.
What have you been planning?
- To fire all six of you. - Excuse me?
To fire you without any compensation for Brooker 5.
That's quite a plan.
Dammit, Ravn.
- Dammit, Ravn. - Dammit.
- Ravn, dammit. - Dammit.
Dammit, Ravn!
Holy shit.
May I pose a question before we all attack Ravn?
Why did you plan this, Ravn? Why fire us?
- Why cheat us out of Brooker 5? - Because...
Yes?
Because...
The boss of it all said so.
I should've known.
He didn't even have the guts to tell us himself.
- Autumn is muggy. - Gorm...
- Autumn is muggy. - Stop it.
Autumn is fucking muggy!
Gorm! Stop it!
I didn't have the guts after all. They've got memories like...
like... like...
Elephants?
Yes. I lie awake at night. I see their eyes before me.
Forgiveness, you say! They'll never forgive me.
Poor Mette is the worst.
Nothing I say is good enough for that girl.
I'm such a wuss!
They can't forgive you if you don't confess. We had a contract.
"I promise to confess."
- Who signed? - I confessed to my plan.
And told them that I forced you! That's not a confession.
- That's not what I meant. - Why didn't the contract say so?
Unfortunately for you, law is an extremely exact science.
And therefore I demand
that you honor the contracts you have signed, and sell.
I've set up one last meeting with Finnur.
You don't want to show your face at work.
So I've told them you're in the States
until the day of the signing.
Hi. It's me. We have to meet. On neutral ground.
Mm!
Legally, you can't touch him. He's got you. You have to sell.
- It's a total downer. - Yes.
But he almost confessed, right?
You have a knack for deliberate mental cruelty.
You're right.
But I'm better at being irritating on an intuitive level.
What's his greatest fear?
Not being loved. That's what it's all about.
He wants to be the big, cuddly teddy, otherwise he loses it.
Take his place as the cuddly teddy bear.
Do what Ravn did. Only better.
Mm!
Good morning.
Hello there.
Do you have room for tiny little me?
Ravn! Won't you join us?
The more the merrier.
We thought you were in the States.
I was supposed to be. But I can see my valued U.S. Buddies any time.
But my most invaluable friends...
I have only two more days with.
- Right, Ravn? - Yes.
Two more days in the bosom of the family.
Autumn is a meteorological bombshell.
Speaking of bombshells, I have a confession to make.
Things got a bit heated last time.
But when I tell you why I really came, you'll see you were wrong about me.
- You're a bastard. - Quite possibly.
But maybe not the way you think.
I've been withholding information from you.
That makes everything much better. Gee, thanks, we forgive you.
I haven't been acting alone. There has been someone in the wings.
This person deserves to be brought out into the light.
It's someone above me. My superior, my boss.
- It's getting very technical. - And who might that be?
It is...
...the boss of the boss of it all.
Now it's getting really complicated.
Can anybody tell me what this means?
No.
So where is this boss of the boss of it all?
In America. No surprise there.
So you're not the real boss who makes the decisions?
I've had to disappoint Jokumsen on that point, too.
All his anger and reproaches must, like yours,
find a new target.
I'm glad to hear it.
You're all right, Svend. I could tell right away.
We hicks have to know these things.
As the boss' representative,
allow me to apologize for the Brooker platform business.
Because you were right all along.
You can't help loving him, right?
And to raise our spirits even more...
The staff outing to Kullen is set for tomorrow.
- Great! - Let's have one fun day together.
How about a big group hug? Come on, Ravn!
- Come on, Mette! - Go, Poor Mette!
What are you hoping to achieve?
Nothing. We're just having fun.
Right here!
Palnatoke bragged to Harald Bluetooth about how great a skier he was.
"If you're that great, ski down the Kullen from here."
- And he did, right here. - Then what?
- Eh, I didn't read that far. - A human fault. You're evolving.
And now Palnatoke will demonstrate
his own unique Telemark style!
- Ouch! - What's with your hand?
It's my wrist. It's gone...
limp again. I'm afraid it's a relapse.
We'll soon fix that.
The most resilient of men
Svend
Our new-found dearest friend
Svend
Eleven out of ten
Svend, Svend, Svend
More brandy, please!
I can't take it anymore. What a bunch of parasites!
I'm telling the boss of the boss of it all.
The way you're wasting his money. You disgust me!
You've found a crack.
He is extremely corny, to put it mildly.
So you need corny theater. You haven't been aiming low enough.
Living-room realism, sentimentality...
And clichés. Clichés, clichés.
Are you coming?
It's time. Come on.
- Why are you at the meeting? - Because boss of it all...
Because the boss of it all said so, yes.
We'll be in our cars five minutes from now.
- Do we agree this time? - Yes.
- On the price and terms? - Yes.
- Let's just sign. - Yes.
And because everything is settled, allow me to send a message...
These dates are all wrong. How embarrassing!
I'll correct them. Sorry.
...a message.
At Aunt Titty and Uncle Carl's wedding anniversary...
a collection was made in an old sock.
But here we've been collecting every single day for ten years.
Right here.
The day came for Aunt Titty and Uncle Carl,
as it will for us, when the party is over.
We wake up one morning and put out our hands...
...and all we grasp is thin air.
And you,
and me,
and the two of us,
these three people are but a saga.
You, who were once my very life,
and I, who was once yours,
shall never again hold hands.
And to whom is this message addressed?
The man who is always the first to curse himself for his mistakes,
but the first to forgive us ours.
- Who do I mean? - Ravn...
- Louder! - Ravn.
You carried us in your heart, Ravn.
You brought us together. You gave generously of your love.
And now you're going away...
like bubbles in the bay.
On your way to greater deeds. But one thing we promise.
Whether begging or biting, near or far,
your home will always be
in our hearts, in this green and pleasant land.
Always. You were always there for us.
But, dammit, who was there for you?
And know this, as the swallow twittered beneath the eaves,
this is not adieu, but au revoir!
Thanks for your words. May they be the last.
Thanks for sentimentality so nauseating
that no living creature could possibly take it seriously.
Do you have something to say, Mr. Ravn?
Is there anything we have overlooked?
Do tell us, Mr. Ravn.
I'm the boss of it all.
I own the company.
I make the decisions.
Gorm is right.
He is right. Autumn is muggy.
Real muggy.
Gaggingly muggy.
I'm sorry.
Thank you, Ravn.
Was it really so hard to say?
I always knew you were the boss.
You'd have to be stupid not to see that.
I forgive you, Ravn.
Come on.
On your feet... Upsy-daisy.
All the way.
What about that signature?
Are you going to sell, or what?
That might be tricky.
How can Kristoffer sell what's never been his?
No, Mr. Sigurdsson, there will be no sale.
The company is more strongly united than ever.
And more so, when I've put right a few sins of the past.
I have some offshoring to see to.
Outsourcing!
The word is outsourcing. You said offshoring. It's outsourcing.
What you're doing right now is what irritates me the most.
You're forgetting the actor.
You're right. Sorry.
Kristoffer deserves the credit for making me confess.
- Everything's due to you. - That's all very well.
But that's not how it works.
You don't just jump from hell to happily-ever-after.
There are certain formalities that have to be kept.
You're right!
Let's annul these fucking contracts right now.
And now you just waive the power of attorney to sell the firm.
- No. - What?
No. No, no, no.
There are binding commitments you can't annul by the stroke of a pen.
We are no longer interested in a deal
since it's clear that the man with the pen is not the company's legal owner.
From his reading of the sagas my client knows
that he who deals with stooges deals with nobody.
Our client just remembered some new scriptures
that indicate a more modern interpretation.
More appropriately rendered:
"He who deals with a man without power of attorney deals with nobody."
As our client sees it, the man with the pen
is indeed furnished with power of attorney, and that's fine with him.
What's going on, Kristoffer? It worked out like you wanted.
Yeah, more or less.
- You're not thinking of signing! - It's beyond me. I'm an actor.
Whether I sign or not is up to my character.
I'll have to ask him.
But your character is to blame for all this.
It's probably just a formality.
I need space to consult my character.
After all, he is the boss of it all.
What's going on?
He's being contrary. He's an actor.
He couldn't stand it when Ravn got all the attention.
He's just putting on a show, now that everyone is looking at him.
I hope...
No! Hang on a moment.
I can't make final contact.
I seem to hear the boss saying something.
And then it might be the opposite.
Silence in the back! Shh!
You have to breathe life into your material.
What are your character's moral values?
It's fascinating.
And let me be completely frank...
I haven't the slightest clue.
There are sympathies and antipathies, trying to cancel each other out.
I'll just listen some more.
I got it.
Close call, but the sympathy meter needle
just managed to sway in favor of Ravn and his staff.
You shitty, shitty, shit-faced Danes.
With all your damned chatter. You gave us 400 years of torment.
Is the idiot going to sign or not?
I abhor the Danish race.
What was the last thing?
He said the whole business was absurd. As absurd as...
Gambini.
Gambini?
Antonio Stavro Gambini?
The Hanged Cat. One act, 1969.
Some say late 1968.
Oh, shit.
Forget it. It's Gambini.
The chimney sweep's monologue.
And so we reached, on the verge of giving up,
the end of our comedy.
Like you, I would like to get home, but I'd like to apologize
to those who wanted more and those who wanted less.
Those who got what they came for... deserve it.