The Boss of It All (2006) Movie Script

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'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.
Let's pray it never gets that far.
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...
of attorney...
to Mr...
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.
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.
They called Gambini strange too.
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.
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...
They're all completely insane.
- We need to talk.
- On neutral ground! I'll call you.
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.
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?
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.
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 I 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?
"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.
Hi, everyone.
I just have a practical announcement.
Oh, Nalle... Such a pouty face.
Come on.
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.
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?
- 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 clichs.
"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.
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, 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, 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.
- 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.
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?
- 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.
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?
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?
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...
Ticktock, ticktock...
Ticktock, ticktock...
Ticktock, ticktock...
Ticktock, ticktock...
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?
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.
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?
In whose arms do we drown?
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...
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...
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.
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.
Good morning.
Hello there.
Do you have room
for tiny little me?
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?
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?
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
Our new-found dearest friend
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,
And clichs.
Clichs, clichs.
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.
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.
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...
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.
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...
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...
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.