Dag

Am I interrupting?

This is my regular morning ritual.

- I brought coffee. Two. - Thanks.

Add a dash of rum, please.

We've been at it since six, so the two-hour rule applies.

Don't hit me! I'm a new man.

You don't look any different.

Touch me, and I'll spank you so hard you'll need a hemorrhoid cushion!

Here you go.

- Rough morning? - Yes. You could say that.

I have one month to live my life to the max.

Then Eva and I will figure out if we've better off together or apart.

That's fantastic.

No, it isn't. I want her, not someone else.

- How do you know? Have you tried? - Tried what?

Other women. You may be surprised.

You don't have to do them all at once.

Why do I even bother talking to you?

Because you only have me and Benedikt.

And Benedikt isn't awake at this hour.

It feels like a midlife crisis.

Maybe that's what this sudden urge to propose is.

To hang on to Eva forever. To gain control of your own lie.

Your own mortality. Our lives are nothing but crisis, Dag, -

starting with puberty.

You've been handed the medicine. You have been encouraged to do whatever you want.

I'm not the type to have a midlife crisis.

I got over that when I started losing my hair in my 30s.

I'm not afraid of missing out on anything. I'm not afraid of dying.

But I am afraid of losing her.

Which I will by doing things I feel guilty about.

- But she asked you to! - Because she's in a bad place personality.

I should just embrace her and tell her everything will be OK.

But she won't let me. She feels she isn't contributing to society.

And she accuses me of judging her.

Maybe she's right to drag you down off your high horse.

- This could be good for both of you. - I'm not like you, Ernst.

I have to rehash absolutely everything.

I can't simply walk out the door and pretend nothing has happened.

I'm not like that.

As Freud says: "I've studied women for 30 years, -

- and there's one thing I don't understand.

What the hell do they want?"

Maybe you should try?

Just once? Let go?

- I don't want to. - Maybe you have to.

In order to keep her.

Come on!

"Don't think I'll let you live your life in that glass jar," father said.

Hello. Everything normal here?

Malin?

Right. Tomas and Karin?

The only fixed points in my life. What's on your mental menu?

- Her hormone treatments. - Is that what it's boiled down to?

Yes, actually. Her mood swings.

I never know which version I'll encounter.

This happens to be necessary, Thomas!

- It's not like I have a choice! - Yes, you do.

- No one's stuffing those pills down your... - I think we'll start with you, Karin.

You're going for artificial insemination?

Is this payback because Thomas had a vasectomy behind your back?

No.

- You just want a baby? - Not at any cost, but...

My mind is made up. The date is already set.

It's at the Stork Clinic.

And you, Thomas, dislike the idea of another man's sperm?

No, it's just her mood swings. The hormones have made her crazy.

So another child doesn't bother you?

Of course it does. I chose to have a vasectomy.

And I have chosen to have another child.

We have made two specific choices.

Why is your choice so damned much better than mine?!

You must agree that there are more consequences -

- to having a child than not having one?

For you, maybe, but not for me!

Then there's that test-tube stuff.

I find it morally reprehensible and wrong.

There are million kids waiting to be adopted.

A child starves to death every fifth second.

There! A kid just died.

And we're supposed to pop down to Copenhagen, -

- and create this experimental baby, as if we're buying tax-free salami!

It's reprehensible, inhuman, and unpleasant.

- So adoption is OK then? - No, not at all.

Do you know what your test-tube experiment is?

It's sick. You just have a need to feel pregnant.

I see. Then why don't we just adopt, Thomas?

We have had this conversation a hundred times before!

But you don't want to... You don't want another child!

This is a magic moment, Dag. Could you take a picture of us?

You have finally understood that I don't want any more children.

Yeah, why not?

I'll just take it of you, Thomas. Karin will remember this anyway.

- Why? - Because you lost!

All you have to decide now, is whether to stay or go.

The game is over. You lost. She won.

Do you want to leave now, with all that will entail for the near future?

Or do you want to stay, with all that will entail for the next... 18 years.

Good luck. A single mother with two kids? Good luck.

You can... You can go drink yourself to death in some tiny apartment.

Great. Same time, next week?

OK...

- Why are you so happy? - I'm going to start drinking again, -

and maybe sleep around too.

Malin? Malin?