Angel

Angel...

Angelica.

We have gathered here to remember someone...

who touched us, heart and soul.

Living close to Angelica was...

It was like being on a stormy sea.

The straight and narrow... didn't suit her.

That's not what she wanted. For her, it was all or nothing.

When she was angry, she was furious.

When she was happy, she was ecstatic.

But when she was sad... she was heartbroken.

Desperately inconsolable.

Dear Richard, I'm sorry but this is the only way I can tell you this.

The last thing on earth I want to do is hurt you.

I can't take this anymore.

You've always wanted us to live our dream,

but now that dream has turned into a nightmare.

You are the only man I have ever loved,

but I can't go on.

Forgive me. Yours, Angelica

-Will you stay for dinner? -No thanks, not today.

Please? It might cheer Angelica up.

-Is she still having a rough time? -Ever since we started recording...

You're the only person she wants to see.

Christ, look at me...!

I look terrible.

Come on...

Too much...

Better.

Hello...

Angelica, look who I brought home...

-Like a drink? -No spirit, though.

A beer won't kill you, will it?

"Dear Richard...

The last thing I want to do is hurt you.

But I...

can't take this anymore."

Oh, my God!

We all believed... that Angel's zest for life

would help her overcome any obstacle.

That ultimately, she would out-live us all.

But now she's gone.

And I don't think I will ever be completely happy again.

Angel, you were my angel.

Go on in...

That was a beautiful eulogy, Jess. Not much of a crowd, though.

Lots of people would have liked to pay their respects.

Rick didn't want a circus.

-Where were the guys in the band? -They weren't invited.

I don't like them.

I never have.

Thanks.

It was a moving speech.

Times like these show you who your real friends are.

-Cheers. -To Angel.

To Angelica.

I bet she's laughing now, after a decade with hardly any record sales...

What time is it?

-Five to... -Let's see what they have to say.

A memorial service was held today for Angelica Holst,

better known as Angel, at a chapel on the outskirts of Stockholm.

The service, held three months after her disappearance...

attended by her family and close friends

Angel had chart-topping hits in the UK and in the US,

and she was equally famous for her wild private life...

Still alive and kicking?

Guess what I did today?

We had a memorial service for you.

-What? -A memorial service.

How can you have a service if there's no body?

-Why didn't you tell me? -What do you mean?

That sort of thing takes planning... Where was it held?

-At the chapel. -Which one?

-Yours. -That's going too far, Richard.

My parents are buried there... Are you out of your mind?

Where else? Of course it had to be that chapel.

Everyone thinks you're with them.

You should have heard Jess...

His speech was so moving, I almost thought you were gone for good.

You seem to be enjoying my death.

I mean, you're laughing. That's insane!

You've gone too far, Rick.

I spend my days waiting for you to call.

And now you tell me you've buried me!

I'm doing my best. I'm working my ass off trying to make this work.

Setting the stage for you.

If Jess made a speech, everyone will hate me!

Jess and the others will laugh.

I'm going to ask everyone over for dinner,

and you'll walk in and we'll party.

This isn't funny, Rick. It's terrible.

It's cynical. You've gone too far.

I'm doing this for you.

When you come back, you'll see that I was right.

What have I done...?

-That was my cue, right? -Right.

Can I help you out in any way?

-Is there anything you need? -No...

Then let's try it again.

It's so fucking hot in here... And I've got a cold, too.

-Who laid down the guitar track? -I did.

-I can tell. -Thanks.

Want me to mute it? Would it be easier if you didn't hear it?

-Well, you're the boss... -Mute the guitar.

What's wrong?

-It's so bloody uninspiring. -Uninspiring?

-The intro is... wooden. -It's heavy, that's the whole point.

Heavy doesn't have to be like a ton of bricks.

-Come on, Angelica. -Oh, yeah... Christ, this is fun!

The clock's ticking. Give it all you've got.

Rick, please... I know when I'm supposed to sing.

-Don't cue me in like that. -I'm only...

-I'm not a choir girl! -You're acting like one.

Should we try another track instead?

-I'll go talk to her. -Why? Why you?

-She's mad at you. -Then I should talk to her.

-Who's married to her? -You'll just make things worse.

I sent them home.

Good.

Do you know what time it is?

It's a bit early for wine.

So, are we supposed to get drunk, clear the air, and start over again.

Bring me a glass and a bottle, please.

-What's wrong? -I don't like the songs.

I'm doing material that has already been done

by better artists than me.

It's a cover album.

Cover...

Don't you get it?

Why on earth would anyone buy this,

when they don't even buy my own stuff?

-I would. -You're the only one.

You live in some kind of a dream world, Rick.

I wish you would wake up and realize that it's over.

I'm 40.

I can't write songs anymore.

Nobody buys my records.

And now this desperate move, cutting an album of covers.

My name tops the "Out" list.

A list some 18-year-old dreams up. So who topped the "In" list?

All you do is talk... You live in this dream world.

I refuse to make a fool of myself.

-Aren't you happy up there? -Not anymore.

-You're on fire... -Shut up!

What's wrong with you? I'm not on fire anymore.

I drink wine to get in the mood.

You're stuck in the past.

I'm finished. Accept it, for God's sake...

It's over.

I don't have a life.

Our relationship is crap.

Don't touch me!

We don't have kids, I don't have a family...

Christ, I'd be better off dead.

I'm going to the studio.

I guess you won't be coming in...

All right, then I'll do some mixing.

Listen, Angelica...

I've been up all night thinking about what you said.

You're right.

-About being washed up? -No...

About being better off dead.

Not for real. People should think you're dead.

What happened when Presley died?

Kurt Cobain, Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Eva Cassidy, Nick Drake...

that T. Rex guy, Marc Bolan...

They became bigger than ever. The media calls them geniuses.

Countless collections are released... "Greatest Hits: Angel"

"The Essential Angel"

"Angel, The Tracks From Heaven"

There's a hell of a difference between me and Elvis.

Exactly, you can come back.

Only one guy's ever pulled that off: Jesus Christ.

Rick...

-Are you serious? -It's a brilliant idea.

It's insane...

How would we do it?

-We have to finish the album first. -Yes, yes. And then?

Then we have to kill you. People have to believe you're dead.

You'll have to disappear for six months.

For six months?

Or three or four...

Until the wheels are set in motion and the album's been released.

How should I die?

No one would be surprised if you got drunk and jumped into the sea.

Yes...

-I haven't been drunk in ages. -But it gave us headlines.

What did they call you? "The dolphin"...

Stop it!

Suicide, it's the best way to go.

It's unbeatable.

If you kill yourself, you're back.

A mystery for the press: "Why did Angel kill herself?"

"Angel's death wish"

"Missing Angel"

You can't lie like that.

Sure you can.

It's bloody effective.

Take Clinton, for instance...

"I did not have sex with that woman."