All These Women (För att inte tala om alla dessa kvinnor)

DIGITALLY RESTORED IN 2015

Any resemblance between this film and so-called reality has to be a misunderstanding.

ALL THESE WOMEN

Don't be disrespectful. Don't insult the music.

Here come the widows.

A genius has many kinds of widows.

"My biography

of Felix, the master cellist."

By me, Cornelius.

Dear Maestro...

speechless I stand by your coffin.

Is that possible?

What constitutes genius?

True genius is to make a critic change his opinion.

Goethe.

The widow Tussaud.

He looks the same and yet so different.

The widow Beatrice.

He looks the same and yet so different.

The widow Traviata.

He looks the same and yet so different.

The widow Cecilia.

He looks the same...

and yet so different.

The widow Isolde.

He looks the same and yet so different.

The widow Bumblebee.

No, he looks so different.

Yet the same.

That came out silly.

The widow.

Forgive me, Maestro, but unfortunately I don't have a copy.

I mean...

Right?

FOUR DAYS EARLIER

The renowned music critic Cornelius visits the cello virtuoso Felix

at his summer residence.

Hi there, Jillker.

Hello, hello.

Maestro.

It's such a great honor.

Maestro, Maestro.

Don't even think of it.

Maestro, your precious hands.

- Who's that? - That's Felix playing.

- Then he is? - Tristan.

Felix's valet and chauffeur. There's said to be a certain likeness.

- You could have stopped me. - That's not usually possible.

Villa Tremolo.

- The Tusculum of our Maestro. - Bravo.

Villa Tremolo.

A name characterized by the Maestro's elegance and imagination.

Those are the kind of malleable details

that make the subject of a biography come alive for the reader.

How far along are you?

A very intimate and personal chapter is missing.

Speaking of which, how's Stravinsky doing?

I don't know. I considered it my duty as a music critic to expose him.

Has he stopped composing or does he persist?

Such a splendid house.

A gigantic cello in the Lord's concert hall.

"The Maestro lives, as if in a gigantic cello

in the Lord's concert hall."

Of course that uses "in" twice.

Damned prepositions.

"He lives as if a solo, as if in a cello."

But then you have two "as if's." Awkward.

No, I thought...

Do you know if the Maestro has seen my composition?

Composition?

Yes, I sent it to him, because I thought it would make an excellent opening

if he interpreted it.

The interpreter's relationship with the interpreted.

You interpret him, and he you.

Will you end up together in the end?

- What do you mean? - Shall I show you your room?

- So many women. - Yes, a lot of women.

As you can see, Felix and Tristan look a lot alike.

There appears to be plenty of material for the biography.

Yes, I was afraid so.

Very beautiful material.

MAESTRO FELIX

Well, this is your room.

You can wash up here

from your journey.

I think I better redeem myself after that slight mishap.

Maestro.

Oh, Maestro.

Why are you sneaking around? What are you doing?

I'm writing the Maestro's biography.

Oh, that's you.

- Have you met Felix? - He still hasn't been able to see me.

I've sent him my composition, which I have dedicated to him.

I thought he might play it at his big radio concert.

If he does, I will shoot him.

The Maestro just retired with his wife.

Discretion is a point of honor.

My name is Adelaide.

Cornelius.

I am Felix's wife.

Yes.

A wonderful woman.

Yes.

No.

I am writing his biography after all.

- And next week. - Certainly, Adelaide dear.

Here we have Isolde.

She can't make it until Friday, remember?

Oh, that's right.

- You can put me down. - No, you've got Wednesday.

Unbelievable.

And you get Tuesday, I assume.

By the way, could you talk sense into Traviata?

The lightest caress outside the schedule, and she gets jealous.

Yes, she mustn't be so selfish.

- Good night, Adelaide. - Good night, dear.

Sweet dreams.

Quite true.

What?

I'm Bumblebee.

- I'll be in the biography, right? - Bumblebee?

Bumblebee.

His mistress, of course.

I don't understand.

A second ago, the Maestro and a lady who wasn't his wife...

That wasn't his "official" mistress.

Because I am.

You really look kind of cute.

Do you want to see his bedroom?

That would be interesting.

- But isn't he? - Silly. They're not in his bedroom.

Come. Come on.

Come. Come. Come.

I dare say the atmosphere is...

promising.

It is sometimes.

The Maestro's bedroom.

The Maestro's mistress.

Unbelievable material.

To avoid censorship, the act of lovemaking is depicted as follows.

Bumblebee.

Bumblebee?

Bumblebee?

Felix, you forgot that it was my turn.

Sparks! There's sparks!

- Bumblebee? - Yes.

- Bumblebee? - Yes.

Is Bumblebee dead?

No. And Cornelius?

- Alive. - Well then, come out.

No, I'm naked.

Who was that? Shooting and making noise.

Yes.

Someone tried to kill the Maestro.

Give me my notebook. My pen.

The impresario Jillker handles the Maestro's business.

Villa Tremolo, hello? Impresario Jillker speaking.

Oh, is it you? Hello.

Do you want a program? We haven't any yet.

Isn't it more important that he plays than what he plays?

The Cello. And that's all we know, and that's enough, isn't it?

The Broadcasting Corporation will have to be content with that. So long.

- So long. - Well?

He has to decide on a program soon. The world is awaiting a decision.

The whole world. Almost tout le monde.

Villa Tremolo, hello.

Oh, it's you. What do you want?

Oh, Bach. We'll have to see about that. I'll talk to you later.

They want the Sixth Suite.

A suite with the same success as the Fifth Suite.

"A revelation of inspired Bach interpretation."

- Does he want to? - Qui sait?

- Should I talk to him? - Do I get a lesson today?

I haven't spoken with him yet, Traviata.

- Jillker, I need to speak with you. - Everyone does. Begin.

In private.

In this house there are no secret secrets.

Someone tried to murder the Maestro.

- Unsuccessfully, it seems. - Jillker, it's no joke! I personally...

Yes, Felix?

No, you don't have to worry about the program.

Traviata. There'll be no lesson today,

at least not in cello.

Maestro?

- No, it was nothing special. - Jillker, you have to...

Oh, that's right. Someone's tried to kill you.

That's that.

- You mean, the Maestro's going to die? - He, like everybody else.

- But, murdered? - Why not?

Imagine the last chapter of your biography.

- Jillker, don't say that! - Why not? Just between us salesmen.

Save me.

I mean "him."

The door blew shut.

- There's quite a draft in the house. - I thought...

Is Mr. Cornelius admiring the mosaics?

- No. - I am.

I admire everything in this house.

Everything is nice. It has to be.

Maestro Felix has given me a nice name... Isolde.