The New Howell Theater

presents

Chambers of the Heart

A Screenplay by

Ronald L. Ecker

based on the life and works of

Soren Kierkegaard




Copyright 2008 by Ronald L. Ecker
All Right Reserved




Soren Kierkegaard and Regine Olsen



Log line: The tragic love story of the troubled 19th-century Danish writer Soren Kierkegaard and the beautiful Regine Olsen.




This screenplay has been divided into three web pages, which helps with the downloading time. A "Go to" link at the bottom of each page will take you to the next page.














               FADE IN:

               INT. A DANISH MANSION - SITTING ROOM - DAY (1897)

               White-haired REGINE, 76, in a black silk dress, is interviewed
               by journalist RAPHAEL MEYER, 29.  Both are Danish.  

                                   MEYER
                         When did you first meet Soren
                         Kierkegaard?

                                   REGINE
                         I met him at the home of Bolette
                         Rordam.  I was only fifteen.  I got
                         to know him two years later, when I
                         guess he thought I was old enough
                         to court.

                                   MEYER
                         What year was that?

                                   REGINE
                         Well, I was seventeen . . . 

               EXT. COPENHAGEN, DENMARK - DAY (1838)

               PEOPLE walk or ride in horse-drawn carts and carriages in the 
               port city’s downtown Nytorv (”New Market”) Square.  There’s 
               a fountain in the center of the cobblestoned square.

                                    REGINE (V.O.) (cont'd)    
                         It would have been eighteen thirty
                         eight.  Soren was a university
                         student in those days.  You might
                         say he was a perpetual university
                         student.

               During this, SUPERIMPOSE:

                               COPENHAGEN, DENMARK

               INT. MUSIC TEACHER'S HOME - DAY

               Pretty YOUNG REGINE OLSEN, 17, has a singing lesson with her
               MUSIC TEACHER, 50, while Regine's girlfriend THRINE DAHL, 
               17, sits listening. 

                                   MUSIC TEACHER
                         No, Regine, sing from here.  Sing
                         from the diaphragm.

               Regine tries again.

               INT. PLEISCH'S TEAROOM - DAY 

               SOREN KIERKEGAARD, 24, looks at the time on his pocket watch. 

               Sitting alone at a table, Soren is slim, with a pleasant
               face.  Wearing a buttoned coat, he holds a bamboo walking
               stick, his top hat on the table.  Other PATRONS are in b.g.

               Soren expectantly watches PASSERSBY on Amagertorv, one of the
               city's main streets, through the front window.  

               He sees Regine passing by on the street with Thrine.  Soren
               grabs his hat and rises, taking money from a pocket for his
               coffee.  

               EXT. AMAGERTORV STREET - DAY

               Regine and Thrine walk, unaware that Soren - greeting friends
               and acquaintances among PASSERSBY - follows them.  

               EXT. JANSEN HOME - DAY 

               Soren watches as Regine says goodbye to Thrine and enters the
               two-story Jansen home.  Thrine proceeds down the street.

               Soren stops by the home and regards it.

               A YOUNG MAN ON THE STREET walks by from a neighboring house. 
               Soren points with his cane toward Jansen's.

                                   SOREN
                         Excuse me.  Can you tell me who
                         lives at this address?

                                   YOUNG MAN
                         That's Mrs. Jansen, sir.

                                   SOREN
                         Thank you.

               Soren seems unsure what to do next.  Then an upper window
               opens and MRS. JANSEN, 68, beats some dust from a cloth. 

               Soren tips his hat with a smile.

                                   SOREN (cont'd)
                         Good afternoon.  Mrs. Jansen, I
                         believe.

                                   MRS. JANSEN
                         Good afternoon.  Do I know you, sir?

                                   SOREN
                         I am Soren Kierkegaard.  My father
                         is Michael.

                                   MRS. JANSEN
                         Oh, yes, I certainly know your
                         father!  I bought so many clothes
                         from him, before he sold his
                         business.  How is he?

                                   SOREN
                         He is well.  And he has often
                         spoken kindly of you.

                                   MRS. JANSEN
                         So you are his son.

                                   SOREN
                         The youngest of two surviving.

                                   MRS. JANSEN
                         Would you like to come in for a
                         fresh cup of tea?

               INT. JANSEN HOME - A SITTING ROOM - DAY

               Soren sits sipping his tea while Mrs. Jansen knits.

                                   MRS. JANSEN
                         I am flattered, Mister Kierkegaard,
                         that you would want to spend some
                         time chatting with an old lady 
                         like me. 

                                   SOREN
                         Why do you think that I wouldn't?

                                   MRS. JANSEN
                         Well, you must have many friends 
                         your own age at the university 
                         and all.

                                   SOREN
                         Why, madam, I would much rather
                         talk with you older ladies than
                         with those young fellows, so full
                         of themselves.  You should hear
                         their pretentious discussions of
                         Hegel, or of Schleiermacher, or
                         of liberalism, or of censorship 
                         of the press.

                                   MRS. JANSEN
                         What do you like to talk about with
                         us older ladies?

                                   SOREN
                         Why, it doesn't matter.  Some good
                         family gossip, the weather, or how
                         much milk it takes to produce a
                         pound of butter.

               Regine enters the room with her cousin HENRIETTE, 18.  Soren
               rises.

                                   MRS. JANSEN
                         Mister Kierkegaard, this is 
                         my niece Regine Olsen, and my
                         grandchild Henriette.

                                   SOREN
                         I am pleased to meet you, Henriette.

                                   HENRIETTE
                         Likewise, Mister Kierkegaard.

                                   SOREN
                         Regine, haven't we met before?

               They sit down.

                                   REGINE
                         Yes.  At the home of the Rordams,
                         about two years ago.   A group of 
                         us girls were there.  And you came 
                         by to borrow a book, I believe.

                                   SOREN
                         I remember.  To return a book,
                         actually.  I do such odd things,
                         returning things that I borrow.  

                                   REGINE
                         I believe you were seeing Bolette.

                                   SOREN
                         Yes.  Till she saw the last of me.

                                   REGINE
                         She asked you to speak to us.

                                   SOREN
                         What did I speak of?

                                   REGINE
                         I don't remember.  I just remember
                         how the words seemed to flow like 
                         a stream.

                                   SOREN
                         I remember your face, your expression. 
                         You know how some images stick in your
                         mind?

                                   REGINE
                         Yes.  

                                   HENRIETTE
                         I was there too.
                             (mock hurt)
                         But you don't remember me.

                                   SOREN
                         Why, if Regine had not grabbed my
                         attention first, I would have been
                         absorbed by your presence.

               Regine and Henriette giggle.

                                   REGINE
                         You know, my parents have open house
                         once a week.  Wednesday evenings. 
                         You are welcome to come, Soren.

                                   SOREN
                         I would like that.  

                                   MRS. JANSEN
                         Her father is State Councillor
                         Olsen.

                                   SOREN
                         I know him.  I would like that
                         indeed.  One Wednesday evening I
                         just might show up.

               A beat, Soren gazing at Regine.  She rises.

                                   REGINE
                         Well, Auntie, I'll be running along
                         now. 

               Soren rises.

                                   SOREN
                         You are going home, are you?

                                   REGINE
                         Yes.  I was on my way home from my
                         music lesson, but I had to tell
                         Henriette something.

                                   SOREN
                         Well then, let me walk you.  I was
                         out walking anyway, as I do every
                         day in this fair town of ours.

               Soren takes a last sip of tea.

                                   SOREN (cont'd)
                         Mrs. Jansen, you should open a
                         tearoom.  I would be your best
                         customer.

                                   MRS. JANSEN
                         Oh, Mister Kierkegaard, really.

               EXT. THE OLSENS' STREET (BORSGADE) - DAY

               Soren and Regine chat as they walk on Borsgade.  There is a
               row of four-story gabled mansions on one side of the street,
               and a canal on the other.

                                   REGINE
                         My sister is the oldest, then my
                         brother and me.  And you?

                                   SOREN
                         One surviving brother.  Gone are
                         two brothers, and three sisters.

                                   REGINE
                         You mean they've all died?

                                   SOREN
                         Yes.  All five.  Would you believe
                         there's a curse on the family?  I
                         must warn you. 

                                   REGINE
                         My goodness.  Are you sure it's a
                         curse, Soren?

               They stop at the front door of the Olsen mansion.

                                   SOREN
                         None of them lived past the age of
                         Christ.  Thirty-three.  

               A pause, Soren gazing at her, Regine seemingly not knowing
               what to say.

                                   SOREN (cont'd)
                         I enjoyed the walk with you.

                                   REGINE
                         I enjoyed it too.

                                   SOREN
                         Well, that was the purpose.

               Regine opens the door.

                                   SOREN (cont'd)
                         It was a pleasure to meet you again,
                         Regine.

                                   REGINE
                         Don't forget the open houses.

                                   SOREN
                         How could I?  I may see you this
                         Wednesday.  Goodbye.

               Soren starts to go.

                                   REGINE
                         Soren . . . How did you happen to
                         be at my aunt's house?

                                   SOREN
                         Do you know what I think?  An angel
                         led me there.  Do you believe in
                         angels?

                                   REGINE
                         Yes, I suppose so.

                                   SOREN
                         So do I.

               Soren moves off, Regine watching him.

               EXT. THE KIERKEGAARD HOME (NO. 2 NYTORV) - NIGHT

               The four-story town house stands next to the courthouse on Nytorv 
               Square.  A few PEOPLE move about.

               INT. DINING ROOM - NIGHT

               At a long dinner table, Soren dines in silence with his white
               haired father MICHAEL KIERKEGAARD, 82, and Soren's brother
               PETER KIERKEGAARD, 33.  A middle-aged HOUSEKEEPER attends.  

               Michael breaks the silence as they eat.

                                   MICHAEL
                         Soren, have you given any further
                         thought to taking the theological
                         exam?

                                   SOREN
                         No, Father, I haven't.

                                   MICHAEL
                         Have you given any thought to
                         taking any sort of exam?

                                   SOREN
                         Not anytime soon, Father.  It
                         requires much preparation.

                                   MICHAEL
                         Are you attending any university
                         lectures at all?

                                   SOREN
                         Why, yes, Father, ask my brother
                         the professor.  He sees me there
                         now and then.

                                   PETER
                         Yes.  Usually lying on the couch 
                         in the student union.

                                   SOREN
                         A good place to think.  

                                   PETER
                         Or to get over a hangover.

                                   SOREN
                         That too.  I am also busy at present,
                         working on a rather long essay, which
                         I hope to have published.

                                   PETER
                         An essay on what?

                                   SOREN
                         Hans Christian Andersen.

                                   MICHAEL
                             (beat)
                         Hans Christian Andersen?  

                                   SOREN
                         Yes.  My thesis being, as an author
                         he totally lacks a life view.

                                   PETER
                         No "life view"?  He is unlike you, I
                         suppose.  Do you have a life view,
                         Soren?

                                   SOREN
                         Yes, Peter, I do, though not the
                         subject of the essay.  My life 
                         view?  Why, the darkest
                         Christianity imaginable, instilled
                         in me by my father from the
                         earliest age.  What else would you
                         expect?  

                                   MICHAEL
                         We have all sinned, my son, and
                         fall short of the glory of God.

                                   SOREN
                         There, you see?  This fear of hell
                         and damnation in which you raised
                         me, Father - depriving me of a
                         childhood - still weighs on my soul
                         every day.  For how does one get
                         rid of it?  I am just as unhappy as
                         you are.  Doesn't that please you?  

                                   PETER
                         Have you finished?  Must you sit
                         there and mock our father?

                                   SOREN
                         Mock him?  Nonsense.  If someone
                         should be mocked, it is me.  Let 
                         me tell you a secret - yes, there
                         should be no secrets in what is
                         left of this curséd family.  Am 
                         I seen as a prodigal son?  I have
                         friends who view me as a carefree
                         bon vivant.  But it's all just a
                         pretense.  I can go to a party and
                         be the soul of wit, I can entertain
                         everyone there - then go home and
                         want to shoot myself.  That is the
                         secret.  But you needn't fear.  For
                         suicides go to hell, do they not? 
                         So there is no escape from this
                         situation.  I am finished now,
                         Peter.  

               Michael has a downcast look.  Peter stares at Soren. 

                                   MICHAEL
                         I will pay the rent for your
                         apartment, for one more year.

                                   SOREN
                         Thank you, Father.

                                   MICHAEL
                         Do you need more money yet?

                                   SOREN
                         Yes, Father.  I could use about
                         fifty rixdollars, thank you.

                                   MICHAEL
                         I fear, Soren, that nothing will
                         become of you, as long as you have
                         any money.

                                    SOREN
                         Yes, Father. 

               Silence again descends.

               INT. JANSEN HOME - DAY

               Regine stands beside Mrs. Jansen as the latter prepares tea
               for TWO ELDERLY LADIES in b.g.

                                   REGINE
                         Auntie, why was Soren Kierkegaard
                         here yesterday?

                                   MRS. JANSEN
                         Well, I saw him standing outside,
                         and he introduced himself.

                                   REGINE
                         What did you talk about with him?

                                   MRS. JANSEN
                         Well, we didn't have time to talk
                         about much before - Regine, do you
                         think he was here to meet you?

                                   REGINE
                         I've been wondering.  Do you know
                         what he told me?  That an angel led
                         him here.

                                   MRS. JANSEN
                         Why, that silver-tongued devil.

                                   REGINE
                         But he told me there's a curse on
                         his family.

                                   MRS. JANSEN
                         A curse?

                                   REGINE
                         So many deaths, at young ages.  Isn't
                         that odd, that he would want to meet
                         me and walk me home, and then try to
                         scare me off?

                                   MRS. JANSEN
                         I don't know.  If there's a curse
                         around, I would want to be told.

               INT. AN INN - A PRIVATE DINING ROOM - NIGHT

               Soren, EMIL BOESEN (24), ANDREAS (25), JOHANNES (24), and
               JULIUS (23) are tipsy on wine, a couple of them still
               nibbling food.  They laugh, all seated except Julius.  

                                   ANDREAS
                         Sit down, Julius, I believe you've
                         exhausted the subject.

                                   JOHANNES
                         He has exhausted me, that's for sure.

               Julius gladly sits down.

                                   ANDREAS
                         And now we come to Soren Kierkegaard. 
                         On your feet, S.K.

               Soren rises, a glass of wine in hand.

                                   ANDREAS (cont'd)
                         Soren will speak to us all about -
                         what? . . . Not everyone at once. 
                         Emil?

                                   EMIL
                         Talk to us about life, Soren.

                                   SOREN
                         You want me to talk about life? 
                         Well, let's start with mine.  I 
                         was born in eighteen thirteen - 
                         the year the state of Denmark went
                         bankrupt.  I confess.  There were 
                         so many counterfeit bills going
                         round, I might as well be considered
                         one of them.

               Soren sips while the others laugh.

                                   SOREN (cont'd)
                         The thing about life is, it only
                         makes sense looking back.  But you
                         can only live it moving forward. 
                         Which makes it hard to know what 
                         to do.  We must make absurd choices.

               Soren sips again.  He becomes serious.

                                   SOREN (cont'd)
                         Looking back . . . Imagine that you 
                         are a father - an old one at that,
                         with a tormented soul, almost sixty
                         when your youngest is born.  You
                         show this young child - and he is
                         only a child - a picture of the
                         crucified Christ. 

               INTERCUT WITH: A STARK IMAGE OF THE CRUCIFIXION

               A handheld print of Grunewald's dark painting "Crucifixion,"
               with the distorted body, the elongated arms, and John the
               Baptist, with a Bible in hand, pointing at Christ suffering
               on the cross. 

                                    SOREN (cont'd)
                         You tell him that this is the
                         Savior.  But the child doesn't know 
                         what that means.  You tell him this
                         crucified man was the most loving
                         man who has ever lived.  

               INTERCUT WITH: INT. A STUDY - NIGHT

               Dimly lit.  5-YEAR-OLD SOREN looks bewildered, almost
               frightened, by the stark image of Christ he is shown by 
               his 63-year-old father.

                                    SOREN (cont'd)
                         And the child will naturally ask,
                         why were they so mean to him then? 
                         And the child will wonder why God
                         in heaven did nothing to prevent
                         this.  And this picture was the
                         only impression the child had of
                         the Savior.  It would follow him
                         throughout his life, he could never 
                         get away from it.  The more dread
                         he had of Christianity, the more 
                         he was drawn to it. This dreadful
                         image seemed to require something
                         of him.  

               END INTERCUT as the adult Soren continues, 

                                   SOREN (cont'd)
                         What then should I make of my life?
                         Please my father, become a pastor
                         in the state church of Denmark? 
                         What does God want me to do?  What 
                         good would it do me to discover
                         some great objective truth, if it
                         doesn't then become part of me?  
                         That, you see, is what I lack in
                         this life.   A truth that is true 
                         for me.  An idea - something - for
                         which I can live and die. 

               EXT. A CARRIAGE - NIGHT 

               Soren, Emil, Johannes, and Julius enjoy more wine - they have
               brought along a bottle and glasses - as COACHMAN #1 drives
               them in an open horse carriage toward town.

                                   SOREN
                         Emil, do you know Terkild Olsen? 
                         The state councillor?

                                   EMIL
                         I know of him.  Why?

                                   SOREN
                         He has a lovely daughter.

                                   JULIUS
                         Here's to lovely daughters.

                                   EMIL
                         Whatever happened to Bolette,
                         Soren?

                                   SOREN
                         Did something happen to her?

               Johannes and Julius laugh.  Johannes offers to refill Soren's
               glass.

                                   JOHANNES
                         Have some more wine, S.K.

                                   SOREN
                         What do you suppose Andreas is up
                         to?  Why did he leave us?

               Johannes and Julius both seem amused, as if sharing a secret.

                                   JULIUS
                         I guess we'll find out soon enough.

               INT. A BROTHEL - OLGA'S ROOM - NIGHT

               Andreas gives some money to the MADAM, 50, while OLGA, 28, a
               fairly attractive prostitute in a red frilly robe, stands by.

                                   ANDREAS
                         This is a surprise for our friend,
                         and it may be his first time.

                                   MADAM
                         He will be in good hands.  Olga can
                         be full of surprises.

               Andreas looks at Olga as she smiles.

                                   ANDREAS
                         Yes, I wouldn't be surprised.

               EXT. BROTHEL - NIGHT

               It's an ordinary-looking two-story house from outside, as
               Soren and his three companions arrive in the carriage.

               Andreas appears and steps to the side of the carriage.

                                   ANDREAS
                         Welcome, lads!  Come along inside. 
                         You first, Soren.

               When Soren, a bit drunker than before, is out of the
               carriage, Andreas takes his arm and distracts his attention
               from the house as they walk toward it.

                                    ANDREAS (cont'd)
                         Soren, I hear you're writing
                         something about Hans Christian
                         Andersen.  

                                   SOREN
                         Yes.

                                   ANDREAS
                         What is it you're saying about him?

               Johannes and Julius smile knowingly as they follow Andreas
               and Soren.  Emil, walking last, seems to have misgivings.

               INT. BROTHEL - NIGHT

               Andreas leads Soren directly from the front room to the
               stairs, the others following.

                                   ANDREAS
                         Let's go on upstairs, shall we?

               The madam watches approvingly as they start up the steps.

               Soren looks around, apparently with some drunken sense of
               deja vu, as they walk up the stairs.

                                   SOREN
                         Is this Mrs. Jansen's?

                                   ANDREAS
                         Why, yes - yes, it is Mrs. Jansen's. 

               They reach the top of the stairs.

                                   ANDREAS (cont'd)
                         This first door here is her
                         daughter's room.
                             (knocks on the door)
                         You wait here with her, Soren, 
                         and we'll be back soon.

               Olga, still in her robe, opens the door from inside the room
               and smiles at them.

                                   ANDREAS (cont'd)
                             (to Olga)
                         Entertain our friend, will you?

                                   OLGA
                         That's what we're here for.

                Andreas turns back toward the stairs.

                                   SOREN
                         Where are you going?

                                   ANDREAS
                         To find Mrs. Jansen.

                                   OLGA
                             (to Soren)
                         Come on in, dear.

               INT. OLGA'S ROOM - NIGHT

               Soren, hat in hand, looks around as Olga closes the door.

                                   OLGA
                         Let me take your hat, dear.  

               Soren hands the hat to her.

                                    OLGA (cont'd)
                         I'm Olga.  Your name is Soren?

                                   SOREN
                         Soren Kierkegaard.  I have been
                         here before.

                                   OLGA
                         Have you?  It is not your first
                         time?

                                   SOREN
                         Well, it was not in this room.

                                   OLGA
                         No, I don't remember you being here.
                         I'm sure that I would.  What would
                         you like, Soren?

                                   SOREN
                         What would I like?

                                   OLGA
                         What can I do for you?

                                   SOREN
                         Can you play a little Mozart?

               Olga laughs, as she leads Soren to the bed.

                                   OLGA
                         I don't have a piano or harp, and we
                         have no orchestra.  Sit down here.

               Soren sits down on the bed.

                                   OLGA (cont'd)
                         Go ahead and lie down.

               She pushes on him, Soren reclining.

                                   SOREN
                         But I might go to sleep.

               Olga opens her robe.

                                   OLGA
                         Oh, I'll try to keep you awake.

               She shows off in her corset.

                                   SOREN
                         What are you doing?

                                   OLGA
                         I'm going to take off my things,
                         dear.  Shouldn't you start doing
                         the same?

                                   SOREN
                         What if Mrs. Jansen comes in?

                                   OLGA
                         There is no Mrs. Jansen.

               Olga gets on the bed with Soren, and gives his shirt a tug.

                                   OLGA (cont'd)
                         Come on, dear, let's get undressed.

                                   SOREN
                         There is no Mrs. Jansen?

                                   OLGA
                         Don't you like this surprise?  It
                         was arranged by your friends.

                                   SOREN
                         You aren't her daughter.
                             (looks around)
                         Am I in a brothel?

                                   OLGA
                         Where did you think you were?

               Olga starts to unbutton Soren's shirt.

                                   SOREN
                         No!  Get your hands off me!

               Soren scrambles up off the bed.

                                   OLGA
                         What's wrong with you?

                                   SOREN
                         My God.  The sins of my father.

                                   OLGA
                         What?

                                   SOREN
                         I have to get out of here.

                                   OLGA
                         There's the door.  Go ahead and 
                         get out.

               Before Soren reaches the door, his legs seem to buckle and 
               he falls to his knees.

                                    OLGA (cont'd)
                         Get up and get out of here.

               As Soren stays down, on his hands and knees, Olga sees that
               something is wrong, as he's shaking.  She leans down to him.

                                    OLGA (cont'd)
                         Are you all right?

               Olga starts to put a hand on his back.  Then she suddenly
               steps back as if repulsed.

                                    OLGA (cont'd)
                         Do you have the falling sickness?

               Soren, through shaking, slowly gets up on one knee, then
               rises to his feet.  He walks out, Olga watching him.

               EXT. BROTHEL - NIGHT

               Soren's four friends wait by the carriage.  Soren comes out
               of the house.

                                   ANDREAS
                         Soren!  Why so quick?

                                   SOREN
                         Damn you!  You bastards!  

                                   ANDREAS
                         Soren -

                                   SOREN
                         How could you do that?  Do you know
                         what it means?

               Soren, still a bit unsteady, walks away.

                                   ANDREAS
                         Soren, wait.  Where are you going?

                                   SOREN
                         Home. 

                                   EMIL
                         Soren, wait.  We will take you.

                                   SOREN
                         I would rather walk.

               Olga appears at an upstairs window.

                                   OLGA
                         Here, your friend forgot his hat.

               Olga throws the hat down, Julius catching it.

               INT. SOREN'S LOVSTRAEDE APARTMENT - DAY (NEXT MORNING)

               Soren, still clothed from the night before, stirs awake on
               his bed in the second-floor apartment.  It's raining outside
               with thunder.  

               Soren continues to lie in bed, as if in despair on top of a
               hangover. 

               EXT. THE STREET (LOVSTRAEDE) - DAY

               In the rain, under flashes of lightning and rumbles of thunder,
               someone with an umbrella and Soren's hat walks to 7 Lovstraede.

               INT. THE APARTMENT - DAY

               Soren, disheveled, answers the door.  Outside stands Emil.

                                   EMIL
                         You forgot your hat last night.
                             (hands it to Soren)
                         I tried not to get it wet.

                                   SOREN
                         Thank you.  Would you like to come
                         in?

                                   EMIL
                         I'm on my way to a lecture.  Soren,
                         that brothel last night, I knew
                         nothing about it - where we were
                         going.

                                   SOREN
                         I understand.

                                   EMIL
                         Andreas said to tell you he's sorry.

                                   SOREN
                         Tell him I forgive him.

                                   EMIL
                         Are you all right?

                                    SOREN
                         Yes.  Thank you.

               Emil nods and turns to go.

               EXT. OLSEN MANSION - NIGHT 

               It's slightly foggy as Soren, with top hat and cane, stops in
               front of the Olsen mansion.  

               A few GUESTS can be seen through a living-room window.  

               Soren stands gazing at the window.  His cane falls from his
               hand.  He looks down at the hand.  It is shaking.

               Soren stoops and picks up the cane.  There are footsteps. 
               Rising, he is joined by gentleman FRITZ SCHLEGEL, 28.

                                   SCHLEGEL
                         Mister Kierkegaard.

                                   SOREN
                         Good evening, Mister Schlegel.

                                   SCHLEGEL
                         Going to the Olsens' open house?

                                   SOREN
                         No.  I was just passing by.

               Schlegel proceeds to the front door and knocks.  

               A young OLSEN MAID answers the door, and Schlegel goes in,
               while Soren watches.

               Soren gazes at the window a moment longer.  He flexes his
               hand, and moves off down the street.

               INT. OLSEN MANSION - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

               Several GUESTS are at open house, hosted by TERKILD OLSEN,
               38, and MRS. OLSEN, 37.

               Regine enters.  She looks around, as if for someone she hopes
               to see.  She nods to a guest, then sees Schlegel, drinking
               coffee.  Smiling, he rises from his chair.  She walks over.

                                   REGINE
                         Hello, Fritz.

                                   SCHLEGEL
                         Good evening, Regine.  Will you
                         join me?

                                   REGINE
                         Of course.

               They sit down together.

                                   SCHLEGEL
                         There is something I've been wanting
                         to tell you, my dear.  You were
                         always my favorite pupil.

                                   REGINE
                         Well thank you.  And you are a
                         marvelous teacher.  

               Regine looks around again.

                                   SCHLEGEL
                         Are you expecting someone?

                                   REGINE
                         Sort of.  I mean he was invited. 
                         Do you know Soren Kierkegaard?

                                   SCHLEGEL
                         When I came here this evening, he
                         was standing outside.  Claimed he
                         was just passing by.  Dropped his
                         cane.  I think he may have been
                         drunk.  Do you know him well?

                                   REGINE
                         Well, I haven't known him for long. 
                         He was standing outside?

                                   SCHLEGEL
                         A rather odd fellow.  Walks the
                         streets every day, as if he has
                         nothing better to do.  Perhaps 
                         he doesn't.  His wealthy father
                         supports him.  If I were his
                         father, I would tell him to go 
                         find a charity.

               INT. MUSIC TEACHER'S HOME - DAY

               Regine has another singing lesson with her music teacher, while 
               Thrine waits.

                                   MUSIC TEACHER
                         No, Regine.  Remember, sing from
                         here.

               EXT. AMAGERTORV STREET - DAY

               Regine and Thrine walk their usual route after Regine's music
               lesson.

                                   THRINE
                         What are you going to do if Fritz
                         Schlegel proposes?

                                   REGINE
                         I don't know.  

                                   THRINE
                         Well what do you really think of
                         him?

                                   REGINE
                         I'm not in love with him, if that's
                         what you mean.  But I have always
                         liked him.

                                   THRINE
                         But you're waiting on Soren.  

                                   REGINE
                         I haven't said that.

                                   THRINE
                         What makes you think Soren might
                         propose?

                                   REGINE
                         Well, he followed me to my aunt's,
                         I think, and then walked me home. 
                         And it's the way that he talked.

                                   THRINE
                         He could charm all the girls.

                                   REGINE
                         So who is he charming?  Do you know?

                                   THRINE
                         The only one I've known about is
                         Bolette.

                                   REGINE
                         Bolette.  That was two years ago.

                                   THRINE
                         Has Soren been once to your open
                         house?

                                   REGINE
                         No, but he wanted to.  He was seen
                         outside.

                                   THRINE
                         Well did someone not let him in?
                         If you wait for Soren, and he never
                         proposes, you could lose out on
                         both.

                                   REGINE
                         Well it won't be the end of the
                         world.  I don't think I'll be an
                         old maid.

                                   THRINE
                         No.  But it would be the end of Soren. 
                         You might die of a broken heart.

               INT. PLEISCH'S TEAROOM - DAY

               Soren, at the same table as before, this time with Emil,
               looks out the window.  Other PATRONS are in b.g.  

                                   SOREN
                         There, Emil.

               Emil looks.  Regine walks by outside with Thrine.

                                   SOREN (cont'd)
                         I have watched her each week go
                         home from her music lesson.  Once I
                         dared to follow her.  You, my old
                         childhood friend, are the only one
                         I can show her to.

               EXT. AMAGERTORV STREET - DAY 

               Soren and Emil walk together.

                                   EMIL
                         Why don't you go after her, Soren?

                                   SOREN
                         You mean marry her?  Don't you know
                         that there are but two of us left,
                         my brother Peter and I?  And that  
                         our father, who is eighty-two years
                         old, is fated to outlive us both?

               Emil looks quizzically at Soren.

                                   EMIL
                         You don't know that.

                                   SOREN
                         Yes, I do.  It's a curse.

                                   EMIL
                         And that's why you can't marry?

                                   SOREN
                         It would be irresponsible.

               They stop at a corner where they are to part ways.

                                   SOREN (cont'd)
                         I will see you tomorrow, Emil.

               Soren starts to walk off.

                                   EMIL
                         Soren . . . What is the source of
                         this "curse"?

                                   SOREN
                         I can't talk about it, outside of
                         the family.  Do you want to know a
                         favorite Bible verse?  "The father
                         has eaten sour grapes, and the
                         children's teeth are set on edge."  

               Soren walks away, Emil watching him.

               INT. SOREN'S LOVSTRAEDE APARTMENT - NIGHT

               Soren, drinking a glass of wine, sits trying to read a book. 
               He gives up in disinterest.  He seems totally at loose ends.

               There is an urgent knocking on the door.  Rising, Soren goes
               to the door and opens it.

               Outside Soren finds Peter's servant ANDERS, 21.

                                   SOREN
                         Anders, what is it?

                                   ANDERS
                         Your brother sent me.  It's your
                         father.  He seems gravely ill.

               INT. MICHAEL'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

               Michael lies semiconscious in bed.  Peter sits prayerfully at
               the bedside.  A DOCTOR, 55, sits on the other side.  

               Soren enters.  The doctor rises and walks over to him.

                                   DOCTOR
                         He passed out today.  He refuses to
                         go to the hospital.  I think your
                         father is simply worn out.

               INT. A SITTING ROOM - NIGHT 

               Soren sits alone with a glass of sherry, the decanter nearby.  

               Peter steps to the decanter and pours himself some sherry. 
               He sits down across from Soren.

                                   PETER
                         If he dies, will that settle the
                         curse for you?

                                   SOREN
                         But that is just it.  How can he
                         die, before you and I do?

                                   PETER
                         You really believe that.  You are 
                         convinced there's a curse.

                                   SOREN
                         I know that our father has been
                         convinced.  Has there not been
                         enough death to convince even you?

                                   PETER
                         And what brought about this curse?
                         You believe it, unless I'm mistaken,
                         because our father, quite the 
                         rounder in his day, had to marry 
                         our mother the housemaid, not long
                         after his first wife's demise.

                                   SOREN
                         What an earthquake that was in my 
                         life, the day I learned the truth 
                         about Father and Mother.

                                   PETER
                         Is that all there is to it?

                                   SOREN
                         Yes, that's all there is to it, I
                         suppose, as unjust as it may seem.
                         You and I and all of our siblings
                         came into existence against God's
                         will.  Because of our father's sin. 
                         And save you and me, all have paid
                         the price.  So believes our father. 
                         I am inclined to believe it myself.  

               Soren finishes his sherry and sets aside the glass.  

                                   PETER
                         He never told you about the Jutland
                         moor?

               Soren looks quizzically at Peter.

                                   SOREN
                         The Jutland moor?  What about it?

               Rising, Peter refills Soren's empty glass, hands it to him,
               then pours more sherry for himself.  

                                   PETER
                         As he told it to me, when our father
                         was about twelve years old - a dirt-
                         poor shepherd boy from the village
                         of Sedding in Jutland - he was
                         tending their few sheep one day 
                         on the moor.  Miserable as always,
                         cold and hungry, the boy finally
                         had all he could take.  He raised 
                         a fist to the heavens, and cursed
                         Almighty God.

                                   SOREN
                         How?  What did he say?

                                   PETER
                         Oh, I don't know the words.  He
                         didn't tell me that.

               Peter sits down.

                                   PETER (cont'd)
                         But very soon after his cursing of
                         God, he received the great news 
                         that he was being sent to Copenhagen,
                         to work for his uncle, because 
                         there were too many mouths to feed 
                         in Sedding.  You know the story. 
                         Father worked for his uncle here,
                         learned the hosiery trade, set up 
                         his own business, and became a rich
                         man.  It all seemed too good to be
                         true.  And it was.  In his prosperity
                         he had seven children - but then one
                         by one they were taken from him, and
                         then the wife too, till there were
                         left only you and myself.  All of 
                         his wealth meant nothing, could not
                         assuage his guilt, his torment and
                         grief.  All through the years, you
                         see, since he was twelve years old, 
                         our father has believed that on 
                         the Jutland moor he committed the
                         unpardonable sin.

               Soren rises impulsively.

                                   SOREN
                         But it isn't so.  There is no 
                         unpardonable sin.  I don't care
                         what he said to God on the moor.

                                   PETER
                         Then there is no curse.

                                   SOREN
                         And all of the deaths?

                                   PETER
                         Misfortune.  An unfair lot in life. 
                         Nothing more, nothing less.

                                   SOREN
                         And none of them - none of them -
                         lived past the age of Christ.

                                   PETER
                         No.  I am thirty-three, Soren.  I
                         don't plan to die soon.  It is time 
                         to put away the Kierkegaard family
                         curse.

               Soren gazes thoughtfully at his brother.

               INT. MICHAEL'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

               Soren sits close at the bedside.  He places his hand on
               Michael's hand, which lies on Michael's chest.  

                                   SOREN
                         Father . . .

               Michael opens his eyes.  He looks weakly, fondly at Soren.

                                   SOREN (cont'd)
                         How can I say how much I owe you? 
                         I owe you my life.  The greatest
                         debt of all is to owe one's life to
                         another.  It is a debt that cannot
                         be repaid, or even fathomed.  I 
                         am glad that I am your greatest
                         debtor.  And remember this, Father. 
                         God forgives, and forgets.  Even
                         God, being all-powerful, can forget
                         our sins if he wills it.  As long 
                         as we are repentant before him. 
                         Are you truly repentant, Father?

               Michael weakly nods "yes."

                                   SOREN (cont'd)
                         Then that's all that matters.

               EXT. A CEMETERY - DAY 

               Soren, Peter, and other MOURNERS (including the Lunds, who
               will be met later) are gathered around the casket.  BISHOP
               JAKOB MYNSTER, 65, officiates.

                                   MYNSTER
                         The Lord bless thee and keep thee,
                         the Lord make his face shine upon 
                         thee, and be gracious unto thee, 
                         the Lord lift up his countenance
                         upon thee, and give thee peace.



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