砂制时镜下的疗养院

THE HOURGLASS SANATORIUM

We’ve almost arrived.

How will I get there?

You’ll find the way.

You don’t need help.

I’ve come a long way.

I booked a room by telegram.

Who can I see?

Everybody is sleeping.

I’ll tell the doctor when he wakes up.

Sleeping?

It’s daytime not night.

They sleep all the time.

You didn’t know?

Night never comes here.

You can wait downstairs.

In the restaurant.

The doctor will see you now.

Where is he?

We received your telegram yesterday.

We sent our coach to the station.

You must have arrived

on a different train.

The station?

We don’t have a good train connection here.

How are you feeling?

Is my father alive?

Of course.

I mean to an extent

allowed by the situation.

You know, just as I do,

that from the perspective

of your home, your country,

you father is dead.

This cannot be fully reversed.

His death casts a shadow

on his existence here.

But he doesn’t know or suspect?

Don’t worry.

Our patients don’t suspect anything.

They can’t.

You probably want to see your father.

I’ll take you there.

We reserved a bed for you

in his room, as you requested.

The trick is that we moved back time.

Time is late here by an interval

which I can’t precisely define.

It all boils down to relativity.

Here, your father’s death

hasn’t occurred yet.

But he met with his death

in your country.

So my father is dead.

- Or is close to death.

- You don’t understand.

We reactivate past time

with all its possibilities.

Including recovery.

We let our patients sleep

for a long time.

We spare their vital energy.

They have nothing better

to do anyway.

Why don’t you lie down?

There’s nothing more

you can do now.

Goodbye.

Goodbye.

I came to talk to you.

Go on.

Why are you spreading lies

and gossip about father?

- What lies?

- I know you’re behind them.

I didn’t lie.

You remember how he went

missing for many days.

He avoided us.

Who knows whether

he’s still alive somewhere?

I have to know the truth.

Stop tormenting me.

It’s hard to communicate with him.

How can I cope

with everything myself?

How can I answer questions

which God keeps asking me?

It’s too much for me.

His complaints terrify me.

- Don’t cry.

- I have a migraine.

You won’t go to school today.

To school?

Mom, I’m not a little boy anymore.

Yes, you are.

You’ve got ink on your hands.

Your knees are bruised.

You’re a naughty, unruly boy.

You hang out

with God knows whom.

Wake those good-for-nothings.

It’s time to open the shop.

- But I’m sure...

- Stop tormenting me.

I told you that your father

travels around as a salesman.

Sometimes

he returns home at night

only to go off again before dawn.

I’m sure he’ll come back.

You’re tossing and turning

like fish out of water.

- You sleep a bit, doze off a bit...

- Yawn a bit.

And you rest again.

You should learn wisdom

from an ant, lazybones.

An ant? Go to hell.

That ant of yours knows

no teacher, boss or shegetz.

And it’s doing fine.

What’s he talking about?

I walked the fields of a lazy man.

I walked the vineyards

of a stupid man.

Where is that from?

Our Lord didn’t say that.

Don’t listen to it!

Nettles grew over everything.

Thorns covered his land.

And the stonewall

collapsed to pieces.

Clap your hands

and call out His name

while rejoicing.

Call out his name to the sounds

of songs and trumpets.

Praise Him with harps,

praise Him with lyres.

Praise Him with the drums

and dancing.

Praise Him with stringed

instruments and horns.

Praise Him with the cymbals.

Praise him

with loud clanging cymbals.

Let everything that

has breath praise the Lord.

Alleluia.

Clap your hands and sing.

Sing.

Sing wisely.

In a dream he saw a ladder

that reaches from earth to heaven.

And God’s angels

were going up and down on it.

Is it possible?

It’s our little Józef!

Did you get lost on

your way to school?

Well?

Rascals! They’re everywhere.

When I want to go down

to get bread in the morning,

I can’t even....

...open the door.

They squeeze through cracks.

And try to get into the kitchen.

They ogle me.

They can hardly wag their tails.

They’re overjoyed

when they see a fire.

They clap their hands

and dance like savages.

They’re hopeless

at putting out fire.

But they like to celebrate.

- Who are you talking about?

- Those idle firemen.

They get lazy in autumn.

They sleep while standing.

I think you’re prejudiced.

They’re nice boys.

An old stove-fitter told me

that when he repairs chimneys,

he finds them attached

to the smoke vent,

motionless like the larvae.

They sleep like that being

drunk from raspberry juice.

And they whine in their sleep:

"Sugar, sugar".

If I glance at one of them,

his face swells and becomes

obscenely red like a turkey.

I heard that it’s a way

of strengthening the inner self.

And rejuvenating colours

when firemen eject fireworks,

rockets and Bengali lights.

I won’t give them

any juice anyway.

I didn’t ruin my complexion

hovering over the stove to make it,

so those rascals could drink it.

Unfortunately, Adela,

you never understood things

which go beyond the mundane.

Look.

Is it possible to grow hair

to the ground?

You look so different.

Just wonderful!

The captain of rascals!

"I, Anna Csillag, born in Moravia,

had poor hair growth".

I wish I had hair like that.

Would you like some water?

- With raspberry juice.

- No, thanks.

Too bad.

Her poor hair growth

was divine retribution.

But prayers and penance

took the curse off her.

She was graced with enlightenment.

She received signs

and made this miraculous remedy.

Look.

These are her brothers,

cousins and brothers-in-law.

Who’s he?

Another brother-in-law.

She made a whole town happy.

Really?

"Elsa. The fluid with a swan".

It’s a balm for all afflictions.

It works wonders.

Where did you get this book?

It’s been here all the time,

scattered around.

"Smoke all you want".

"Sexual Neurasthenia".

"Gramophones".

You silly thing.

We use its pages to wrap meat

and your father’s lunch.

It’s degradation of an original book.

You’re late.

There’s no more juice.

I have some rose preserve.

It’s not bad.

Adela!

- Try it.

- Thank you.

- It’s not a preserve.

- So what? It tastes sweet.

Is your name Jakub?

No, I’m Józef.

Jakub is my father.

I see.

Can you come out?

We can’t talk like this.

- Excuse me.

- It’s all right.

I have a valuable delivery.

Where can I find your father?

I’m looking for him myself.

Allow me to introduce

Honduras and Nicaragua.

Come closer.

It’s spotted.

That’s right.

It’s perishable.

- Birds of paradise?

- Not only.

For hatching, it’s best to let

Belgian hens sit on them.

Or you can do it yourself.

I think I see your father.

Over there!

Don’t you think he’s behaving

in a strange way?

He’s demonstrating.

Father!

Father...

You should beware of things

like narrow-mindedness,

pedantry and blind literalism.

Have you noticed that

in some books flocks of swallows

are flying between the verses?

Stanzas of swallows.

You should learn to read

from the flight of these birds.

Father. I have to tell you something.

It’s a secret.

I found an original.

- An original?

- Yes.

Look.

It’s worthless!

It’s a book!

It’s just a myth.

A book is a myth

we believe in when we’re young.

We stop treating it seriously

as we get older.

Books live a borrowed life.

Every book has a moment

when it soars into the air like

a phoenix with its pages on fire!

Look.

We love them for that moment.

But they turn to ashes.

Thank you.

Why doesn’t anybody

offer goldfinch?

Where?

A book is a myth, my son.

It soars into the air

like a phoenix.

Hyderabad.

Guatemala.

Tasmania, San Domingo.

Sierra Leone.

Labrador, Barbados,

Trinidad, El Salvador,

Borneo, Sumatra, Pernambuco.

Hiporabundia.

You’re talking nonsense.

You could say Panfibras.

Haleiwa, Abracadabra.

Why do I get the feeling

that I’ve been there before?

A long time ago.

What if we know all landscapes

that we come across in life?

Can anything new happen?

Something we can’t sense?

Do you hear me?

I want to know if all this

could have happened.

Answer me.

Did it happen or not?

Yes and no.

There are some things

that can’t fully happen.

They are too grand and magnificent

to fit into an event.

They just try to happen.

Tell me if they really exist.

She did exist.

And nothing can

take away my certainty.

Don’t be afraid.

She can’t hear us.

It’s my dead mother,

she lives here.

She’s inhabited by ghosts,

phantoms, larvae and chrysalises.

Helpless and naive,

she takes them into her dream

and sleeps with them.

She wakes up half-conscious

at dawn and remembers nothing.

That’s why she’s so sad.

She has to live so many lives.

Do you know a story

that time cannot change?

There is one that

you haven’t heard.

It belongs to the night.

Will you find the patience

to listen to it?

Somebody will walk

across the sky,

cuddling a baby in a coat.

Constantly on the way,

on a endless journey.

He’ll pass us with long steps.

That’s what’s going to happen.

Over and over again.

Bianca, you can count on me!

Till the last drop of blood!

Well?

It’s a riddle.

What about her?

She’s all grey.

The touch of her hand must

be beyond imagination.

What did you see there?

Something colourful,

colonial terrifying.

Abductions, pursuits, betrayals.

It’s a story about an abducted

and switched princess.

You’re making it up.

Java.

Sumatra.

Borneo.

I can appoint you as coregent.

Anonymously.

Together with the stamp album

we’ll form a triumvirate.

We’ll be responsible

for this unsolved affair.

With the stamp album?

What a naive question.

It’s a universal book.

A compendium of knowledge

about human life containing

allusions and understatements.

This story will be interspersed

with dashes, ellipses and sighs.

It requires a bit of intelligence

and imagination.

Your words are delirious,

ridiculous, insane.

I was fond of you, Rudolf,

because you own this album.

Now your outbursts of

envy put me off.

Don’t forget that you’re

dependent on me.

I have to get to the other side.

I know.

Her father is a ship’s doctor.

A small steam boat

with wheels at the sides

is waiting for her

every night at the pier.

It’s lights are off.

Don’t go there.

I have a bad feeling.

Don’t worry. I may seem excited,

but I have my fears.

Won’t it be safer to look through

the stamp album?

You haven’t seen New Mexico.

Remember that there

is no final Mexico.

Behind every Mexico

there is a new one.

They only seem dead.

The don’t have to breathe

for a longer period.

These villains won’t be

characters in novels.

They’re just a makeshift creation,

a one-time thing.

They were caught at a moment

when their obsession,

their madness was real.

Skilfully prepared, it became

the core of their new existence.

A new man was created

in the image of a mannequin.

This is anarchist Luccheni,

assassin of Empress Elisabeth.

And this is Draga,

the demonic Queen of Serbia.

Edison and Bismarck.

"Leatherstocking".

This is a young genius,

the pride and hope of his family.

Addiction to masturbation

ruined his life.

Unfortunately, they’re not authentic.

But we put a lot of effort

into making them look good.

Their faces are pale,

flushed from

the illness they died of.

Now take a look at

Emperor Franz Joseph.

Wrinkles on his face make him

look like he’s smiling.

But when you come closer,

you see that

his smile is just a grimace

of bitterness and terseness.

He had a younger brother,

so different spiritually

and ideologically.

This unfortunate antagonist,

disadvantaged by birth,

was Archduke Maximilian.

The emperor loved him secretly,

but planned to get rid of him.

He appointed him commander

of the Levantine Ship Squadron,

hoping that he’d go under.

Later he signed a secret alliance

with Napoleon III.

That’s him.

He used deception to involve

Maximilian in the Mexican incident.

This creative young man

renounced his Habsburg title

only to ride aboard

the French liner "Le Cid"

right into a trap.

Some sources say

he was just a cousin.

Others that he was never born.

He was conjectured from the fears

and hallucinations the emperor

experienced while sleeping.

We had problems putting

him back together

after his execution in Vera Cruz.

Unfortunately,

he still suffers from amnesia.

I had to teach him everything

about his life again.

My only success is that

at the sound of the name

of Emperor Franz Joseph

he draws his sword.

He wounded Victor Emmanuel.

The latter didn’t manage to get out

of his way quickly enough.

Bianca...

and Maximilian?

It’s a simple mechanical trick.

When wound up he moves

and acts like a live person.

A simple mechanical trick,

my foot!

A cynic in the tropics.

No, a tropical cynic.

And Rudolf said I exaggerated

and made things up.

They should take their medicine

and be in bed by now.

It’s not good to keep them

on stands for so long.

I can smell curare.

Would you like to see

my collection of weapons?

So my intuition was right after all.

Under the cover of law

and order hair-rising things

are happening here.

Will you tell me who Bianca is?

Her mother was a Creole.

Archduke Maximilian called her

lovingly Conchita.

She went down in history under

that name, through the back door.

Her mother?

You mean grandmother?

Mother.

After Maximilian’s downfall,

she took her daughter to Paris.

She lived on a widow’s pension.

That’s where history loses track

of our touching character.

Allow me to finish for you.

It’s confidential!

Keep calm and control yourself.

100,000 pesos.

My business is not going well.

It’s an expensive project.

In 1900 a Mrs. de V,

a woman of exotic beauty,

leaves France and goes to Austria

with her daughter and husband,

having fake passports.

They get arrested in Salzburg,

while changing trains to Vienna.

After checking his fake passport,

Mr. de V is free to go.

But he does nothing to get

his wife and daughter released.

That very day he goes back

to France and is never seen again.

I will be the one to identify him.

150,000 pesos.

You’re so uncompromising.

What do you want?

Your decisions will show

if you’re aware of the situation.

- I want facts!

- Stop!

I think Bianca’s origin

has been confirmed.

Negroes!

Hordes of Negroes!

Negroes at this time of the year?

The barometer

must be at its lowest point.

Bianca?

I thought you’d never get here.

- Sit down.

- No, infanta.

I have to do duties

which fate has assigned to me.

I have to carry out my plan.

Did you bring anything to read?

Decrees. Sign them.

"Daisy, Daisy give me your answer".

Barrel organs everywhere!

Real marvels of technology.

They may come in handy.

Things went so far that

I got involved in the dynastic

affairs of great monarchs.

I think we’re in trouble.

Let’s think about betrayal.

- Betrayal?

- Yes.

- Betrayal?

- That’s right.

Do you have a better idea?

I don’t understand.

It must be a wonderful feeling.

To penetrate the depths

of villainy and erase oneself

from one’s own memory.

Wouldn’t you like to be defiled

or repulsive for a moment?

But totally renewed.

Do it.

You’ll become one of them.

One of those black Negroes.

Now that things are at the final

stage you want me to betray?

You’re ridiculous with your

faithfulness and sense of mission!

- What if I chose Rudolf?

- No.

I prefer him a thousand times

over you, a boring pedant.

He would be obedient.

Even when it came to crime

or self-destruction.

Rudolf obedient?

Do you remember Lonka,

the washerwoman’s daughter?

You played with her

when you were a little boy.

- Yes.

- It was me.

Only I was a boy at that time.

Did you like me then?

Bianca, I feel everything

is going the wrong way.

Must you disappoint me?

May I see your tickets, please?

Conductor...

What is going on here?

Take it easy. Don’t panic.

We’ll fix everything quietly.

We don’t need help.

Normal facts are arranged in time.

They are threaded on it...

...like onto a string.

It’s important for

narration and continuity.

Fine.

What about events

which have no place in time?

Events which

have occurred too late,

when time has been allocated?

Is time too tight

to take in all events?

Time has its side offshoots,

somewhat illegal and dubious.

But we can’t be too fussy

when dealing with events

that cannot be classified.

Who knows? Maybe all the dirty

manipulation is behind us.

We’re heading to a dead end.

Exactly.

How can I get out of here?

Why don’t you try going

under the bed again?

- Excuse me, I have to go.

- Coward!

I hope to come back again.

Coward!

Stupid coward.

It’s you.

You don’t look well.

Everything is mixed up, father.

Father?

It takes a lot of patience to find

the right words in this confusion.

You can do it by grammatical

analysis of sentences and tenses.

What? I don’t remember.

I am, he is, she is...

I’ve got it!

You are, we are!

They are...

You need to eliminate

flirtatious chatter of birds,

their pointed adverbs, prepositions,

and timid personal pronouns

to find a healthy grain of time.

Legend books,

unwritten books, great epics,

pallid and monotonous

nameless novels,

faceless giants,

dark evening stories,

cloudy dramas,

errant and lost books.

You must have a lot of work.

The light on in your room

late at night.

Try. See if you can do it.

Fascinating!

What a beauty!

Remember. Paradisea apoda

or the bird of paradise.

Cardinalis cardinalis!

Chrysolophus pictus.

Upupa epops.

I want you to take

something with you.

Anything, at least a tiny bit.

Get it into your blood,

your life and save it.

And live with it.

Come in!

Go now.

They’re looking for you.

I don’t want to be disturbed.

Go.

Go!

Go!

Look at you.

You’re covered in cobwebs.

You ripped your coat.

You’ve been in the attic again.

Shop assistants steal from us,

people buy on credit only,

and you just play around.

Take it to the shop.

Your father must be hungry.

The shop!

They’re looking for you.

It’s hot.

Who?

The shop assistants,

especially Teodor.

I know. They’ll be climbing

the ladder up and down.

Up and down.

Józef!

I wish you

had been born earlier.

Come!

Take it to them.

It’ll scare them.

Adela, Holofernes was a man.

Whatever. I kept her in borsch

to make her look better.

I’ll buy it.

Lay off. It’s not for sale.

What? The head is in a shop,

so it’s for sale.

I’ll buy it.

Father!

Take it away.

There’s no room here.

Stop bothering me.

I’m busy.

Jakub! Go on, trade!

Father!

Wake up, Józef.

I know you’re exhausted.

It’s only a few steps more.

Father, you’re ill. You should

take care of yourself.

Can you hear him?

He’s coming.

I know him since childhood.

We went to school together.

That egoist disgusted me.

He devoured lots of buttered rolls.

Go and meet him.

He’ll think I ignore him.

Go!

If I’m not mistaken it’s Józef,

Jakub’s son.

May the sky over your heads

always be blue,

and the ground under

your feet moist with dew.

I don’t think I need to say that.

You can hear their shop

is as busy as a beehive.

It’s just appearances

and pitiful mystification.

Mother complains

that people buy on credit only.

- What did he say?

- Credit.

- I must have misheard.

- I could have expected it.

- They sell on credit.

- Enough! I don’t want to hear it.

Why do you keep bowing?

Turn your ear and listen

to the words of the wise.

Apply your heart to my teaching.

I sold for cash.

Help our fellow man

as much as we can,

but be vigilant

we don’t fall ourselves.

The seven years of plenty

will come to this land.

It was Christian Seipel and Sons,

owners of weaving mills.

The rich man laboured

in gathering riches,

and when he rests he shall

be filled with his goods.

The poor man laboured

in his low way of life,

and in the end he is still poor.

Come.

She doesn’t show up

in the park anymore.

They must be guarding her.

They smelled danger.

It’s nothing but humbug!

Extraterritoriality! Mexico!

Maximilian! Cotton plantations!

Enough!

Who told you that?

The files of this secret conspiracy

were never revealed.

I’m the owner of

this stamp album.

I won’t lend it to you again

for such purposes.

I must admit that

the whole thing is incredible.

Unbelievable.

What do you think, Rudolf?

Who could have conceived

such an evil idea,

which goes beyond any fantasy?

I’m amazed myself.

Tittle-tattle!

Our partnership is over!

Suit yourself.

I said I would prove

that it was all true.

- Where is Mr. de V?

- He’s left.

We’ll see.

Where is the infanta?

Her Highness has left too.

Nobody is here.

Right. Get out.

Somebody must have

betrayed me.

Abra...

Abra?

Abracadabra.

Great.

Come on. Get up!

Haleiwa!

Vienna!

Bravo!

Mount your horses, gentlemen!

Haleiwa!

- What’s going on here?

- This way, Your Highness.

Forward!

Gentlemen,

I troubled you in vain.

These people are free to go.

Don’t harm them.

In my blindness I wanted

to preach the scripture,

to interpret God’s will.

My false belief made me

pursue obscure clues

and make random conclusions.

Allow me, my friend.

Noble gentlemen and you, infanta.

I hand the regency to Rudolf.

I abdicate!

You’re free, noble gentlemen.

Thank you in the name

of our idea.

Our dethroned idea, which...

Hurry!

Hurry!

Father!

Call Garibaldi.

He’s an expert on wounds.

Bianca.

Get a stretcher.

Hurry!

What a fatal night.

I didn’t foresee it.

He had a noble heart after all.

I have wronged him.

Rudolf, you must comfort Bianca,

love her with double love

to replace her father.

You want to take him with you?

Let’s form a procession.

Form a procession!

One more thing, Rudolf.

I should be the one

to provide for the old age

of those homeless heroes.

Unfortunately I’m a pauper.

- How much?

- Ten thousand.

- Five.

- No.

Twelve.

Gentlemen! After what happened

no wax museum will take you in.

Competition is big.

As you have no practical skills,

my friend made a donation

to purchase twelve barrel organs.

Go around the world

and play to make people happy.

You can choose the music.

Now, dear friends

and noble gentlemen,

let’s cheer together:

Long live the newlyweds!

Farewell, gentlemen.

May what you see

be a warning to you.

Don’t ever try to guess

God’s intentions.

Ignorabimus, gentlemen.

Ignorabimus.

Are you Józef, Jakub’s son?

Maybe. Yes.

Did you dream the standard

dream of biblical Joseph?

Maybe.

Well?

Do you know that your dream

was noticed at the highest level

and was severely criticized?

I’m not responsible for my dreams.

Yes, you are.

You are under arrest in the name

of His Imperial and Royal Majesty.

I’m at your disposal.

His Imperial and Royal Majesty’s

bureaucracy is a bit slow.

I have surpassed that early dream

with more serious deeds.

I wanted to do justice

and kill myself.

Now that obsolete dream

has saved my life!

- Don’t cry.

- I have a migraine.

Come. We’ll make tea.

Is Adela at home?

Adela left to America.

She left?

She went by ship and it sank.

All passengers died.

We never heard from her again.

What about father?

Where is he?

He left many times,

but it was never final.

It had its good points.

This way he prepared us

for his ultimate departure.

Take me to him.

All right.

I think it’s time for you

to see him.

The shop is closed for good.

Sometimes I go down there

to sell the remnants.

But the shutters

are only half-open.

He was one of those

whose face was touched by

the hand of God while sleeping.

They know

what they don’t know.

They become speculative

and suspicious.

Through closed eyelids

they see images of distant worlds.

For man goes to his eternal home,

while mourners go about

in the street.

Before the silver cord is broken,

and the golden bowl is crushed.

The pitcher by the well is broken,

and the wheel at

the cistern is crushed.

Then the dust will return

to the earth as it was.

And the spirit will return

to God who gave it.

I’m so glad to see you, Józef.

What a surprise.

I feel so lonely here.

Although I can’t complain.

I’ve been through worse things.

I must tell you something.

But don’t laugh.

I rented a place for a shop here.

It’s nothing much.

Back home I’d be ashamed

to have a stall like that.

But here we had to pull

in our horns.

Isn’t that right, Józef?

Life goes on.

I must have overwound it.

I see you’re sleepy.

Go back to sleep.

You have no idea

how hard it was to get a loan.

People here

don’t trust old merchants.

Merchants with past experience.

Do you remember the optician’s

shop in the market square?

Our shop is right next door.

We don’t have a sign yet.

But you’ll find it.

You’re going out without your coat?

I couldn’t find it in my trunk.

They forgot to pack it.

Take my coat.

No. See you.

Jakub! Go on, trade.

Why don’t you sit down, father?

You’re ill. You should

take care of yourself.

Stop bothering me.

I’m busy.

A letter came for you.

It’s on my desk among papers.

On my first day here

I was served

an excellent fillet of beef

with mushrooms.

It was a hell of a piece of meat.

I have to warn you.

If they ever want to

serve you fillet of beef...

Fillet of beef...

I still feel fire in my stomach.

I have diarrhea after diarrhea.

It’s really tough.

Or take, for instance,

hunter-style roast,

stuffed with pate with gravy.

Here we don’t have to deny

ourselves anything.

We can afford

to indulge big style.

An angel of a boy.

So precious.

You must admit he’s charming.

Got a light?

Even schoolgirls here wear

bows in a special manner.

If you as much as glance at them,

you get that sultry look...

which fills us with desire.

I have to see the doctor.

He’s at the restaurant.

I’ve just been there.

Sorry.

I meant the operating room.

We’re evidently in a trap.

Ever since I came here,

the sanatorium personnel

hasn’t done anything

to provide proper care.

We’re left to ourselves.

I can’t get a bed,

not to mention clean linen.

Those secrets and discreet looks

of yours are just a mystification.

I feel like opening all those

doors to expose the intrigue

we got involved in.

Get some sleep.

You can hardly keep on your feet.

Józef, Józef...

I’ve been lying in bed here,

left without any care.

The wires have been cut.

Nobody comes to see me.

Nobody can make me

a cup of tea.

My own son has

abandoned his sick father

to chase girls in town.

Józef, you should go

to our shop more often.

The shop assistants

are stealing from us.

Our shop will go to waste

if nobody takes care of it.

Look, my heart is pounding.

My strength is leaving me.

Józef, was there

any mail from home?

Doctor...

You’re not looking well.

Take your jacket off.

I’ll examine you.

Your irritation is justified.

Your body,

especially your nervous system

has to adjust to new conditions.

We were deceived by an ad.

It wasn’t a good idea

to send my father here.

Moving back time!

It sounds good.

But what is it in fact?

Do we get fully valuable

and credible time here?

No. We get time

used up by people.

It’s frayed and full of holes.

It’s vomited, secondhand time!

You may question the quality

of your father’s existence,

but you can see him

and talk to him.

You should be

very grateful to the doctor.

Enough! Space is for people.

In space you can swing around,

turn somersaults,

jump from one star to another.

But don’t tamper with time!

The blame for this lies

in fast decomposition...

Of time.

We all know that

this chaotic element can be

kept within certain bounds

if regulated continually.

If not, it begins to play

all kinds of tricks.

Isn’t that right?

You should take better

care of yourself.

Wear warmer clothes.

To start with, get some exercise.

Later we’ll see.

Chin up!

It’s lucky that father

is no longer alive.

It won’t affect him anymore.

|

五光十色，怪异诡谲的梦境！

将现实、幻觉、梦境、回忆杂糅于一体，通过诡异的蒙太奇手法转场，让人摸不着头脑。

好吧，说实话，我没看懂........

我连看了三遍，同时将《沙漏做招牌的疗养院》看了大半本，才模糊地理解了导演想表达的情感。

时间啊……

父亲母亲啊……

战争啊……

书籍啊……

一切似乎都失去了意义，留下的只有麻木的我们。

导演:沃伊切赫·哈斯

编剧:沃伊切赫·哈斯、布鲁诺·舒尔茨

主演:扬·诺维茨基、塔德乌什·孔德拉特、伊雷娜·奥斯卡、哈利娜·科瓦尔斯卡、格斯塔·霍洛贝克、博泽娜·阿达梅克、卢德维克·伯努瓦、维克托·萨德茨基、塔德乌斯·施密特、埃米尔·布恰茨基、杰吉·特雷拉、

语言:波兰语、意第绪语、希伯来语、拉丁语

又名:沙漏、沙漏疗养院、用沙漏做招牌的疗养院

获得当年波兰电影奖最佳产品设计奖及第26届戛纳电影节评审团奖并提名金棕榈

电影取材自犹太裔波兰作家布鲁诺·舒尔茨的短篇小说集《鳄鱼街》，故事保留了中短篇《用沙漏做招牌的疗养院》的叙事主线：男主约瑟夫探望在一间疗养院休养的父亲，院长自称可以通过拨回时间而让弥留之际的病人残活于反复的二手光阴，而整部电影也在此设定下演变成一出关于时空的魔术秀场，一座流动意识与梦魇的恐怖展览馆。哈斯穿针引线整合了散落在原著各个短篇中无家可归的灵魂，让其在电影的隔绝空间内共襄盛举，既将小说的碎枝乱蔓完整网罗，又构筑成导演自成一体的视觉图谱与隐喻系统。

故事背景设在二战前期，男主乘坐一辆奇怪的列车去看望住在疗养院中垂死的父亲。但这个即将拆毁的地方唤起了他许多过去的回忆。他被过去的士兵、殖民地的雇佣兵、昔日生活中的女孩，以及他的父母所包围……。很多处看得非常感动，画面感很好。对父子的感情描写得抽象又细致，有个递进的过程，个人感觉更像是一个心中有愧的青年来到养老院看望临终父亲的精神描摹，但视角有些利用父亲的神志不清。全片太有梦的状态了，要知道还原梦有多难。

片中有这么一个场景，约瑟夫爱上了隔壁的姑娘比安卡，为了调查其父亲的身世，约瑟夫前去蜡像馆探个究竟。在其步入蜡像馆后，另一个之前从未出现过的天地横亘于眼前，约瑟夫狂喜的内心外化到异于寻常阴暗的色调上，瞬间变得瑰丽奇幻。他游走其中，移步换景，此处虽为长镜头，不同蜡像之间的无缝转接亦形成接力式的高密度信息传递，反而达到了一种空间上的守恒，这期间仍然包含了相当丰富的涵义，在视觉画面已经相当复杂的情况下画外空间也被拓展开来——插入了混杂不清的声效(仿佛来源于精神病院的哭喊)，意义的负荷度已达到了空前的极限。更为重要的是，这些繁复的影像语言组合传达了舒尔茨对蜡像本身的阐述：“蜡像的样子与前世相差甚远，闪亮专注的眼睛完全被夺去了记忆，他们是假冒者，他们或许真是疯子，选择某个准确的时刻拼命捕捉进入头脑的某个精彩的思绪，定格在那里，一个新的人诞生了”。

纷华靡丽的长镜，巧夺天工的转场，忽明忽暗的灯光，这些元素营造了一场盛大的灵魂之旅，非线性叙述，用电影来透析死亡，以寻找父亲来掩盖这场盛大而华丽的步死之旅。用视觉中心主义来淡化剧情，用饱满的意象作为内容展示。哈斯在自己的电影世界中，建立了一套以视觉性为标准的认知制度甚至价值程序。在电影中，哈斯使用视觉隐喻来意指那些具有启示意义和真理意义的认识。《砂制时镜下的疗养院》可以说视觉性隐喻贯穿了整部电影，从而形成了一种视觉在场的形而上学，让整部电影的剧情通过视觉性的感受逐渐展开。

柏拉图在“洞穴比喻”中，执迷于洞穴幻影的囚徒逃向真实世界的过程，就是凭借高贵的视觉亦即心灵的理性之眼获得真理之启示的过程，是囚徒摆脱枷锁获得真我知识的过程。

哈斯设置了一个寻找父亲的男人，而故事的背景设置在二战前期，在寻找父亲的过程中，这个角色并不是按照常规叙事的模式来完成整个寻找的过程，而是摒弃了真是叙事的模式，让角色完成一种心灵之旅。一顶帽子，一支蜡烛，一辆火车……这是一个列车长的形象，也是一个引渡人的形象。在塔可夫斯基的《乡愁》里有一个很长的镜头，主人公拿着蜡烛一次次护着蜡烛从一头走向另一头……这里面有个传说，只要蜡烛不灭，在另一头插上，就能回到故乡。塔可夫斯基拍这片子的时候身在国外，因为政治原因回不了国，《乡愁》可谓就是这次的心境，代表了自己的思念以及希望。而《砂制时镜下的疗养院》那一支蜡烛同样表现出了哈斯以及布鲁诺·舒尔茨的乡愁以及希望。

布鲁诺·舒尔茨是波兰伟大的作家，受到卡夫卡影响，他的创作是荒诞与超现实的，但与卡夫卡不同的是——卡夫卡的作品更多表现出的是存在主义，是时代的荒诞与虚无——舒尔茨的作品在表现荒诞与虚无中还暗含了自己对生自己的地方的一股浓浓怀恋，从其的《祖国》等小说可以看出。作者的作品通常是受时代影响的，所以舒尔茨的这些情感可以追溯到波兰不堪入目的近代史，分分合合被侵吞被瓜分的历史。一次世界大战以前，波兰就已经处于被瓜分的状态，俄国法国普鲁士等，波兰主流政党流亡于国外，国内剩下的是傀儡政权。一次世界大战时，波兰人希望通过战争来收回失地，然而获胜国在瓜分利益时忽视了波兰，并没有给予他们本来的国土。直到三十年代波兰才建立了一个算是有完整主权的国家，然而很快又被强国们出卖给了德国。

本片是沃伊齐希·哈斯最诡异却最迷人的超现实主义作品，影片中随处可见的政治宗教以及多处隐喻也是颇为精彩。哈斯用鸟类、食物、蜡像等多种形象，既达成了电影意向的构建，也完成了对于战争历史的指向讨论。影像风格与布鲁诺·舒尔茨的作品风格一样，是不可归类的(超现实主义、象征主义、表现主义、现代主义皆可)。

影片充盈的想象力，对于后世影史作品的影响也是显而易见的。工人歌舞表演时使用的咏叹旋转镜头，在匈牙利诗意电影导演贝拉塔尔的电影中可以多次找到对应，如《鲸鱼马戏团》；对于奇观的塑造，环境背景音和色彩恰到好处的拿捏似乎在科波拉的《现代启示录》中得到了传承；梦境和现实的交织、荒诞的宗教隐喻，特别是房间里裸女的情色暗示，又很难不让人想到南斯拉夫导演库斯图里卡的史诗巨作《地下》……哈斯将奇观和政治、哲学的隐喻融为一体，不能不让观影者彻底沉浸于他编织出的奇幻世界中。

素材来源于网络，侵删。

马丁·斯科塞斯呈现：波兰电影杰作 第八辑

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