(Lou, Russian accent)

Doctor Breuer.

I must see
you on a matter

of life or death.

Meet me at nine
tomorrow morning

at the Cafe Rousse.

[violin music]

(Breuer)
A matter of life

or death! Hmpf!

[exchange of greetings]

Doctor Breuer?

Lou Salome.

How do you do?

May I?

Would you like

a coffee?

Yes, caf� latte.

Waiter, caf�
latte, please,

My friend
is preparing

to kill himself,

This man's
death would have

momentous consequences

for me, for you,

for all of the world.

Who is
this friend?

The philosopher
Friedrich Nietzsche.

Nietzsche?
Should I
know of him?

Not yet, but in time

we shall all

know of him.

(Nietzsche)
How do

we confirm

a truth that has arrived

through disbelief

and skepticism

and not through some

childlike wishing

something were so.

It is hard to be
in God's hands.

It's not truth.

It is a child's wish
for the everlasting

blow to the nipple.

We have
evolutionary theory,

Evolutionary theory
scientifically demonstrates

God's redundancy.

So Darwin himself
had not the courage

to follow
his evidence

to its true
conclusion. So--

where are we?

Surely you must

all realize we

have created God--

and all
of us together
have killed him.

God--

is dead.

My friend is sick.

What is the nature

of his illness?

Headaches.
Tormenting headaches,

My dear lady,
I will see

your friend.

I'm a physician.

I know you can cure

his physical condition,

That is not
why I am here.

Nietzsche suffers
from the deepest despair,

That is what
I ask you to heal.

I cannot
cure despair.

Ah, but you

can, doctor.

I have a spy.

My brother,
a medical student,

attended the class in

which you described

a new technique.

The talking cure.

Now I can arrange

to steer Nietzsche

to your office

but he must believe

you're treating only
his headaches.

Tell me, is yours

a Russian accent?

It is.

Well, perhaps
the people in Russia

believe in sorcerers

but sorry, fraulein,

I am Austrian.

I have no magic
to offer you.

(Lou)
May I walk you

back to your hotel?

I would enjoy
that but--

my wife will be watching

from the window.

I have a duty.

A duty?

It is my duty
to be free

of duty.

Doctor, save Nietzsche.

(Breuer)
I am sorry.

I had hoped
it was hepatitis,

(patient)
How long--

do I have?

It is best
you put your

affairs in order.

Please, doctor.
How long?

(woman)
Please.

Tell us.

Three to
six months.

(frau Becker)
Are you

alright, doctor?

Make sure the Pfeiffers

are never billed again.

Of course.

Cancel all
their outstanding

debts to me.

Of course.

A Fraulein Salome
has suddenly arrived.

A very grand
young woman.

Show her in.

But Frau Reinhardt

has been waiting

for hours.

Frau Becker!

Fraulein Salome!

Doctor Breuer.

I see you like

to do things

for yourself,

Doesn't that deprive

men the pleasure

of serving you?

We both know that

some of the services
men provide are
not necessarily

good for women.

The habits
of a lifetime

are not easily

extinguished, my dear.

Your future
husband will need

extensive retraining.

No husband
for me. Ever.

I would not
do that to

a man.

If then or ever
you use this

new technique,

do not attempt to use

this mesmerism method

with Nietzsche.

Our patient would

refuse to engage

in any process

he perceives
as surrendering

his power to another.

And are you

responsible for

"our" patient's despair?

He believes
I am.

Where has
God gone?

I shall tell you.

God is dead.
We all have
killed him,

You, you,
you and I.

(priest)
God will throw

you in hell!

After the death

of Buddha,

his shadow was shown

for centuries in caves.

A gruesome,
gruesome shadow,

God will
punish you!

You are Satan!

Given the way

of people

[slam]

in the caves,
thank you,

for thousands of years,

in which God's shadow

will still be shown.

Vanquish the shadow

within yourself!

(man)
Friedrich. Friedrich.

Meet Lou Salome.

A brilliant poet
from Russia.

Fascinating lecture
to fall on so

few ears.

Why are people

so afraid of

you, professor?
Oh, truth is
a fearsome thing.

Why do you say

God is dead?

And not that

he never existed?

What you think?

That God has ceased

to be a reckoning force

in people's lives.

An interesting
interpretation.

But if God
is dead,

then everything
is permitted.

No morals,
no rules.

Without God, who

will organize

our society?

What is the
solution to your

godless proposition?

From what stars

have we dropped down

to each other here?

auf Wiedersehen.

(Lou)
I was immediately

attracted to him.

Seduced by
his intellect.

We could say so much

to each other with

half sentences.

Mere gestures,
He became obsessed,

proposing marriage
after our first meeting,

I was attracted
to him.

But not romantically.

I wanted to learn.

Not to submit.

Stop it!

My refusal
turned his love

into hatred.

He wrote me
these crazed

insulting letters.

Then he wrote about

killing himself.

So if I understand
you correctly,

you want me
to persuade Nietzsche

that his life

is worth living.

But I must accomplish

this without him

knowing it.

You are the

only doctor qualified

for this
psychological treatment.

frau Reinhardt
is still waiting.

And still suffering.

(Lou)
One more thing,

You must read

his books,

I shall do
everything I can

to help your friend.

Good night,
Dr. Breuer.

(Breuer)
Good night,

Straight home,
fishman.

[gasping and sobbing]

(Breuer)
Siegmund?

Siegmund?

Where are you

racing to?

The most charming woman

in Vienna invited

me for dinner.

Her more charming

husband is

on his way home

this very minute.

Jump in, Siggy.

I diagnosed a liver
cancer today.

I never get used

to my patients dying.

Well, get used

to it, young

Dr. Freud.

The children
are eating.

Say hello to them.

Daddy!

My little chickens.
See what I
mean, Siggy?

He hardly
talks to me.

[soft piano music]

Oh, by the way

I've taken on

a new patient.

I haven't
met him yet,

Suicidal tendencies,

As always,
it starts

with a woman.

But Josef,
love sickness is not

a medical condition.

The story gets

even better.

Because the woman

feels guilty,

she wants me to sneak

in a cure for his

psychological distress.

While at the same

time, I address his

physical ailments,

Surely, you're not

going to attempt this.

[sigh]

I have
already agreed.

Why?

I don't even
know myself.

Perhaps I need
a challenge like this.
You cannot say
no to this woman.

She could persuade

a horse to lay eggs.

(Lou)
Our plan

is working.

Dr. Oberbach
has persuaded

Nietzsche to consult you,

Neither I
nor Nietzsche

shall ever forget

your kindness,

The professor
is here.

(Breuer)
Send him in,

Good day,
Herr Professor.

Please. Please,
have a seat.

Tell me about
your illness.

Would it be
more efficient

to review my
previous consultations?

I'm sure they're

excellent physicians,

thank you.

But I make
my own diagnosis

before reviewing
those of my colleagues,

Just as I prefer
to see a play before

reading the reviews,

Tell me, professor,
to what extent--

has melancholia
accompanied these

migraine attacks?

I have my black
periods but who

does not?

Speak not of me

tell me of
my illness.

What it
might be?

A life dominated
by black periods

is a breeding
ground for despair.

Despair?
No.

Perhaps once
but not now.

No.

I'm just pregnant.

Here.

My headaches are
the labor pains for

my new book.

What book?

[sings loud]

(Nietzsche3
Zarathustra!

A young prophet,
bursting with wisdom

and courage
and truthfulness

decides to
enlighten the people,

I teach you
the Ubermensch.

Man is something
that must be overcome.

What have you done

to overcome man?

What is
the ape

to man?

[laughter]

A laughingstock,
but I feel

no shame.

lust that,
man shall be

to the Ubermensch!

People refused
to understand

those words.

The prophet,
realizing he has

come too soon

returns to
his solitude,

So--like--
Zarathustra,

I come
too soon.

I must ask you

a personal question.

Physical wellbeing
is not separable

from social and

psychological wellbeing.

Is there someone
with whom you have--
You referring
to sex... Doctor?

Well--

I have found
that a flash

of bestial pleasure

is followed by hours
of self-loathing, so,

such herd pleasures

are not for me.

But is there
a Woman

in your life?

Every time I have

attempted to build

a footbridge to others,
I have been betrayed.

first, there was

the composer,

Richard Wagner,

I have suffered
because of him,

and later,
my best friend--

with that--woman.

Tell me more
about that--woman.

And why?

It's connected
to your illness,

Trust me
on this.

I cannot afford
to--trust--again.

Then I believe,
Herr Professor,

that we can proceed

no further.

(Breuer)
Have a safe journey

home, Herr Professor.

[horse neighs]

(driver)
Stupid animal!

(Nietzsche)
Hey, out! Leave

the horse alone!

Leave it!
Leave it,

I tell you!

[thud and gasp]

(Breuer)
Are you alright?

[neigh and shh]

[heavy breathing]

Can we meet--again?
[panting]

Friday afternoon,
same time?

Good night.

(Breuer)
Breathe deeply,

Bertha.

Did you have

any dreams

last night?

Yes. I dreamt
you were making

love to me.

Really?

Yes.

I'm just going

to examine you,

don't worry.

It's perfectly normal,

What are you

doing? No!

I want you!

You are mine!

[laughter]

(female voice)
No, Josef!

No, Josef!

How could you?!

(Breuer)
Mathilde!

What are
you doing?!

That is horrible!
Horrible!!

Dr. Breuer!
You are now

a free man.

Go back,
you syphilitic

whore! He's mine!

No!
He's mine!

Mine!

He is mine!

He's mine!

No!
He's mine!

[shouts
and grunts]

[music plays]

[gasp]
(Breuer)
"There was a time

in our lives

"when we were
so close

"that nothing
seemed to obstruct

our friendship.

"When only
a footprint

separated us.

"I asked you, 'Do

you want to cross

the footbridge to me?'

But you did

not want to."

What do you make

of it, Siggy?

I'm not sure.

Let's reason it out.

The first man can no

longer cross because

he feels he is
submitting his power

to the other person.

Yes. Yes.
You're right.

He interprets
any expression

of positive sentiment

as a bid
for power.

It makes it
almost impossible

to get close to him!

It's all here.

May I see it?

And reveal
his identity?

And why not?

Perhaps if you lend

this book to Siggy

you won't hide

in your study all

night reading it.

Mathilde, stop.

What am I to do
when I watch you

withdraw more and

more from me

and the children?

First that woman!

Now this Nietzsche!

Friedrich Nietzsche?

To this day I
regret listening

to you.

The transfer
of Bertha to

another doctor

remains one of
the great shames

of my life!

Excellent books.

Very few copies

of them sold.

Then your
publisher is

a fool

for not championing

these with his
life's blood.

You're writing
in short and

brief sentences.

It is my ambition
to say in

ten sentences

what others
say in a whole book,

Hm.

As to
your migraines,

I believe their
fundamental cause

lies in stress,

Due to upsetting
events in your work,

your family,

your personal
relationships.

I've given
up teaching.

I have no home
to look after,

no wife to
quarrel with,

no children
to discipline.

I have
no obligations

to anyone.

I have no stress.

Your extreme isolation

is stressing itself,

Great thinkers choose

their own company, no?
Undisturbed by
the mob.

Consider Thoreau,
Spinoza, Buddha.

Professor.

Stress is
our enemy.

My task is to help you

reduce stress in

your life.

I propose that
you enter my

Lauzon clinic

for one month

of observation

and treatment.

We have
new medications

for migraine.

I will visit
you daily.

I'm unable to pay--

for such services.

Money doesn't
matter to me.

It will be free.

And why
are you

doing this?

You came to
me for help.

I offer it.
I'm a doctor.

Far too simple.

Human motivation
is far more complex.

What is
your motive?

Why are
you here?

Because of pressure
from my friends and

my headaches,

I ask again.
What is

your motive

if you don't
request payment

for such services.

One practices
one's profession.

A cobbler cobbles.

A baker bakes.
A doctor doctors.

Why do you write?

Why philosophize?

You want nothing

from your work.

I do not claim
I philosophize

for you.

Whereas you, doctor,

continue to pretend

that your motive

is to serve me.

Such claims have

nothing to do with

human motivation.

Now what
are your motives?

My motives?

Yes!

My motives?!
Who can answer
such a question?

I believe you
are destined

to become
a great philosopher.

My mission is to aid
you in becoming

who you are.

So you as my savior
can become

even greater?

I did not
say that!

Do you know
my patients

are the leading

scientists and

musicians in Vienna?

Yes, and at this moment

you use their eminence

to enhance your
authority with me!

I will never
exploit your name.

I will still
be used

by you!

Nonsense!

Your charity,
your techniques

to help me?

To manage me!

All of these
with you stronger

at my expense!

This is a perfect
example of why

you cannot dissect

your own psyche!

Your vision is
blurred, Professor!

You need help!

You are
about to make

a mistake!

Then go
already!

You crazed
deluded creature!

Shabbat Shalom.

[all repeat softly]

[cheerful piano music]

[screaming]

Come here!
[laughs]

[banging]

The old Bishop,

Nietzsche,

he's dying
in my hotel!

[driver coaxing horse]

Get me
some ice!

Dear God!

Bring me
some blankets!

[moan]

Herr Professor.

[gasp]

Professor Nietzsche.
friedrich!
[gasp]

Take the pain.

Take the pain in.

You will
feel better.

[gasping]
Help me.

[gasp]

That much chlorine

is a poison

in the sleeping juice

so you could

have died.

Oh, living, dying,

who cares?

I shall be in
your office tomorrow

with what I owe.

Before my train
leaves for Basel.

Basel?

Yes.

Not until
this crisis

is over.

I'm leaving tomorrow.

[waltz music]

You know,
part of me

holds some--

strange hope that

by helping this

bizarre creature

overcome his
own suffering,

I might
defeat my own,

Defeat your suffering?

You're the envy

of every doctor

in Vienna.

One feels
things at 4O

that one cannot

possibly know

at 25.

I must stop him

from leaving.

There must
be a way.

Perhaps if you'd
fully disclosed

yourself to Nietzsche,

you might have

engaged him.

Once you
gain his trust,

he might
open up like

a steamed clam.

I think I know
a way, Siggy.

I think
I know

a way.

Your documents
and receipts,

Herr Professor.

Auf Wiedersehen.

Auf Wiedersehen.

[door opens]

Professor Nietzsche.
May I have a word
before you leave?

I have a proposition
to make, Professor,

Perhaps never before

made by a doctor

to his patient.

I propose a
professional exchange.

for one month,

I will act as

physician to your body,

if you will act

as physician

to my mind.

What do
you mean?

That you doctor me

and I teach

you philosophy?

No, no, no.

Not teach me.

Heal me.

Of what?

Despair.

I see
no despair.

Not on
the surface.

But underneath,

my mind is invaded
by alien thoughts.

I've lost sight

of why I live.

I'm terrified
of death, yet--
I often think
of ending my life.

I cannot help
you with this.

I've no training.

Who is trained?

Such healing
is not a part of

the medical discipline.

What do
I know

of this?

You know more

than any man alive.

Aren't your books

entire treaties

on despair?

I can't cure despair.

I only know how

to tolerate it.

Then teach me
how to tolerate

a life
of despair.

You were right that

your mission is

to save humankind
from illusion

and aimlessness.

To create
a new code

of behavior.

A new morality
free of superstition.

It's all there.

In your books.
This is my offer.

You enter
my clinic

for 30 days.

I will observe and treat

your medical illness daily.

In return,
you become

my physician,

and help
me talk about

my life's concerns.

Look.

I'm indebted
to you--

more than
any man.

You saved
my life.

I'm just
a writer.

I'm not
a doctor.

You can pay

your debt by

saving my life.

The way I
saved yours,

So what?

I do this
for you to--

relieve my debt?

My motivation--

is entirely
self-serving.

I want
to save
my life,

but are you

strong enough

to do this?

(Breuer)
I will persuade him

that he is
the only one

who can help me.

And then what?

Then I will
reverse the roles.

He will once again

be the patient

and I will be
the physician.

And what happens

when Nietzsche

turns to you
to cure his despair?

Siggy, I'm convinced

there's something

healing in unburdening.

Look at
the Catholics.

Their priests have been

offering confessions

for centuries.

Nietzsche is
a solitary man.

Yet a few
nights ago

he opened up
to me.

A real plea
for help.

Help me.
What you saw were
his unconscious desires.

Those that if they

were liberated

could scream

for help
in daylight.

The goal of
my talking cure

is to liberate those
buried desires,

to allow the patient

to ask for

help--openly.

(Sigmund)
But is "liberation Integration"

the right term?

Isn't it "integration"
that we are after?

Integration of
the unconscious

with the conscious.

Yes!

Yes, Sigmund!

Very good.

Take a seat.

Remove your stethoscope.

And your coat.

As well.

I made a list
of your complaints,

One, you have a

general unhappiness.

Two, you're besieged

by alien thoughts,
Three, self-hatred.

four, fear of aging,

five, fear of death,

Six, urges
toward suicide,

Anything else?

I feel--

completely--

remote and distant

from my wife.

Trapped in a world
not of my

own choosing,

And is that
One more

problem or two?

You make me
feel uncomfortable.

It is my task
to make you

feel comfortless.

No, no, no.

Your approach

is all wrong.

Mr. Breuer,
we made

an agreement.

"Mr." Breuer?

Do you want
us to proceed,

Mr. Breuer?

You've mentioned
your wife last,

Which tells me
it begins there.

What initiated
this change--

in your feelings
toward her?

[gentle thunder]

[clears throat]

Two years ago

I took on the case

of a young woman.

This patient
--I gave her the

pseudonym Anna O. --

suffers from what

we doctors call

hysterical behavior,

[screams]

Try to stay calm!

(Breuer)
During our daily

meetings, she--

opened up to me,
She had the details

of every disturbing event

of the last 24 hours.

She called
these confessions

"chimney-sweeping."

[clears throat]

I prefer to call it--

the talking cure.

Unfortunately,

the course
of treatment

was terminated

by its insane ending,

How?

I fell in love
with my patient.

She and her mother

were friendly

with my wife.

[heavy breathing]

Bertha.

What's wrong?

Stop it, Bertha!

What's wrong?

I'm pregnant!

I'm pregnant with

your husband's baby!

(mother)
Bertha!

(Bertha)
Here comes Dr. Breuer's

little baby!

Bertha!
No!

Stop it!

Stop it!
Bertha!

It was her delirium

speaking, of course,

her illness.

But my wife
forbade me

to see her again,

What did
you do?

I'm sorry, my dear.

I cannot be your

doctor anymore,
But I've done
nothing wrong.

Of course
you haven't.

I will refer you

to a colleague

of mine.

He will take
good care

of you.

Please don't
let me go.

I have no choice.

You will always be

the only man in

my life. Always.

Can you imagine

how terrible it was

to hear those words?

They were evidence

of the damage

I had done.

I left her weakened.

Crippled.

You are responsible

for all of your thoughts

and deeds.

But she, by virtue

of the so-called illness,

she is exonerated.

from everything.

Who has
damaged whom?

Who has
weakened whom?

Doesn't this cripple

Bertha, as you

call her--

have greater power

over you?

An excellent beginning.

He even developed
a list of my problems,

Breuer is
a curious mix,

Intelligent yet blind.

Sincere but devious,

Let him continue

to think that this

is what we are doing,

He's possessed
by a woman who

shreds him to pieces,

[chuckles]
And he licks

her bloody fangs,

[Nietzsche,
laughing hard]

I love it, Josef.

What do you love?

Tchaikovsky!

Why?

Swan Lake!

[bells ringing]

[Breuer screams
and Nietzsche laughs]

Josef, look!
We're running

out of time!

[thunder]
Backwards!
Look at the time!

Faster, Josef!
Pedal faster!

[Swan Lake ballet, playing]

Take me, Josef.

Take me!

Throw away
your shackles!

Sticks and stones

may break my bones,

but death will

never hurt me!

[Swan Lake, playing

and thunder]

[gasping
and thunder]

(Breuer)
I feared that after

yesterday's confessions,

you would
think less of me.

Do not worry
about what others

think of you.

I suspect you find

sex disagreeable.

I do
not object

to sex.

What I hate
is the man

who begs for it.

He surrenders himself
to some crafty woman

who turns his lust

into her strings.

Lust is part
of life!

And nothing must

interfere with

the development

of the hero
which is

inside you!

And if lust stands

in the way, lust

must be overcome!

(Breuer)
Be more practical.

All you give me

are quotes from

your books!

first time I've attempted

to put my philosophy

to practical use,

Choose between comfort

and the truth.

Are they
mutually exclusive?

If you want to choose

the pleasure of growth,

prepare yourself
for some pain.

Less pain, shrink.

Go. Be part

of the herd.

[soft playing]

[abrupt loud notes]

Look at
this tree.

It requires
stormy weather

if it is to attain
its proud height.
Learn, creativity
and discovery,

But they
come in pain!

(Breuer)
I wish for

simple things.

To sleep
without nightmares

[sigh]

to live
without tension.

Lie down.

Why?

It's the
best inducement

for recalling memories.

Lie down, please.

Close your eyes,

Let us
imagine

An icy
mountain peak,

And we see
this little man

trudging to the top.

He's looking
into the horror

of his existence.

He is encountering
times that are endured.

[thunder]

But he sees
too much.

This insignificance,
this mere
little speck

that he is.

[loud thunder]

And now his fear

becomes so raw,

that he welcomes
lust into his mind.

And he starts looking

into this castle.

He begins to spend
his time recollecting

these miracles,

How his little

crippled Bertha

moves her legs,

Her lips.

And her arms.

And her breasts.

And his mind

which was filled

with the noblest

of ideas

becomes clogged
now with trash.

And that is how

he is today,

He's just rummaging

through the rubbish.

Of Bertha.

As if it contained
the answer

to his prayers,

Well, what do
you think

of this man?
Josef, open
your eyes.

Open your eyes,

Talk to me,
Josef.

This is
my way.

Where is yours?

[cheerful piano music]

He asked you to lie

on the couch? Why?

He said it
was the best way

for recalling memories.

Interesting.

He is honoring
his contract,

but offers
no support,

My confessions
have failed

to produce

even the slightest

admission of his

own obsession.

Is your frustration rooted

in your competition

with him?

Not at all.

I'm a physician,
Siggy.

I do not meet with

my patient for

my pleasure.

But Josef,
I've read
his books.

He has more
penetrating knowledge

of mankind

than any other person.

I think, he may

be, perhaps

the greatest psychologist

who has ever lived.

You can best

help him by letting

him help you.

[soft piano music]

[woman sings
in foreign language]

[heavy rain
and thunder]

Josef?

[pigeons cooing]

[crashing thunder]

Josef? It's
after midnight.

Are you coming

to bed?

Soon.

(distant female voice)

Dr. Breuer!

Dr. Breuer!

Dr. Breuer!

Where is
my wife?

Your wife--
is in the house!

Mathilde!

Mathilde!
(Bertha)
You'll always be

the only man in my life.

Always,

(Bertha)
You'll never regret

it, Josef. Never.

You will never

regret it, Josef.

Never.

[ship siren]

[crashing thunder]

I feel healthy.

I wish to waste
none of our

precious time

on these physical
exams, hm?

Uh, before
we begin,

the last time we met

you called me "Josef."

I like that.
Should we use

first names?

Friedrich or--?

Fritz.

Friedrich.

My best friend
at school was

called Friedrich.

He used
to call me the lad

of infinite promise.

What happened
to the lad?

He became
a successful doctor.

And respected,
And rich,

Then you have

fulfilled your goals.

You are satisfied?

I have fulfilled
my goals, yes.

Am I satisfied?

No.

How did you

choose your goals?

No, don't--
don't think.

lust chimney-sweep,

Hm.

Goals are
part of my culture.

They're in the air.

You breathe

them in.

Like every
young Jewish boy,

I wanted to climb
out of the ghetto

to succeed.

My father was
the great teacher

of my life.

No, Papa.

No, Josef.
I won't encourage

bad habits.

But I never
chose goals.

They were
just there, like--

like an accident.

And yet not

to take possession

of your goals

is just that,
let your life

be an accident.

What is
wrong, Josef?

I've had a sudden

and painful understanding

of the obvious.

Time is irreversible,

The sands of my life

are running out,

I'm in lockstep
with all people

marching towards my death.

So you see clear

vision as a wound,

Knowing that as
my death approaches,

I'm impotent and

insignificant, yes.

That does not mean

that existence has

no purpose.

On the contrary,
As death

creeps closer,

the value
of life increases.

You must learn

to say "Yes, " Josef,
But say "yes"
to every minute

of life.

Be passionate.
Be a free

thinking spirit.

Rise above
your limitations.

Be the Ubermensch.
Hm? Please.

Please, Fraulein.
Will you take

a seat?

The Russian
is here.

Let her wait.

[chiming]

Good afternoon,
Frau Pettik. Please

take a seat.

Herr Schubert,
hello.

Take a seat. The doctor

will be with you shortly.

Please, understand,
I'm very sorry.

Please, the doctor

will see you,

frau Pettik,
the doctor

can see you now.

What a pleasure.

I had forgotten,

Then look
more carefully

this time.
I'm distressed
at having so little

time to offer you.

The price
of success,

Dr. Breuer.

You like to
live dangerously.

Tell me, why

didn't you write

so that I could
arrange a proper

time for you?

I am concerned
about our patient.

Our patient?

Have you graduated

from medical school

since our
last meeting?

You must read

these letters

Nietzsche sent me.

He writes
as if to punish me.

"You are a woman

without sensitivity

or spirit,

incapable of love,
a predator clothed

as a house cat."

Why does he
regard me as

such a monster?

I deserve to know
the outcome
of my efforts.

The outcome
of your experiment.

It's been lovely

to see you,

but I must
return to

my work.

Where is he?

I cannot tell you.

Or the state
of his condition.

You turn
your back

to me.

I cannot violate
my patient's--privacy.

[slam]

(Sigmund)
Perhaps you are

not capable

of being hypnotized.

Perhaps,

I didn't tell you she

left some of Nietzsche's

letters with me.

Hm. And?

He berates me
for feeding at

the trough of lust,

and all the while,

he himself,

just like me,

is rummaging
through the trash
of his own mind.

You think he
should answer

for his falsifications,

may I remind you

of your own.

Of the deceptive premise

of your arrangement

with him.

Of the two patients

in this relationship,

I have become
the more urgent case.

(male voice)
General.

What are you

doing, soldier?

Trying to kill
myself, sir.

Carry on, soldier.

Yes, sir.

[gun cocks]

[cocks again]
General, help

me please!

The interesting thing

is that in my dream

the general
was you.

And why me?

A symbol of
your unwillingness

to join me

in a down-to-earth
manner perhaps?

Be open
with me.
I presume that,
like all men,

you've suffered
from love-sickness.

Have you ever tasted

the pain of love?

Yes.

And?

I must know.

Let me remind you

of Goethe's words.

"Be a man.
Do not follow me,

but yourself, "

Teaching philosophy
and using it

in the real world

are Very
different undertakings.

You wish for something

to soothe you now.

Then go, suckle

on the teat

of superstition,

Whatever you do,

don't go to reason,

Unfortunately, the
theatrical director

of my mind,

the one who stages

all these scenes

with Bertha

is unaffected
by reason.

Of course not.
for what reason
will a man

could love
such a cripple?

Oh, stop it!

Bertha is intelligent,
beautiful, loving!

Loving?
How?

She tried
to seduce you

into adultery.

She almost
destroyed you,

You are too

hard on her.

Well, next time

you go to her,

don't forget
to bring your whip.

Yes. I think to love

such a woman

is to hate life.

Bertha is
a fine woman.

May I remind you

she became ill

because of her
father's death?

And may I remind

you all fathers die?

I think the time

for excuses is over.

[happy laughter]

(Bertha)
You will always be

the only man in my life.

(Breuer)
friedrich, I need
your help.

Attack my obsession,
It's ruining me!

Do you want war?

Yes!

You will follow

my directives

without question.

Absolutely.

Sit.

Please.

Close your eyes.

[sigh]

Imagine--your life--
with Bertha.

But I don't
want to!

Please, Josef.
Relax.

Now, you're
starting your day.

You're having
your breakfast,

with Anna O.

I want you to compose

a list of 1 O insults

and I want you

to hurl them

at her.

To her face?!

Yes.

What?
Like "ugly?"

Precisely.
Ugly, yes.

Ugly.

Scream it out!

Ugly!

Stupid!
Cow!

Whore!
Sow!

Cross-eyed!
Monster!

Cripple!

That's nine.
One more.

Idiot!!

Good. How is
she responding?

I love you.

Banish the tranquil idea

you've composed.

See Bertha as she

would be now

each morning,

Spasms, her arms

and legs in spasms,

Cross-eyed,
Mutant.

Hallucinating.

Suffering!

[screaming]

See her as the infant

she longs to revert to.

[rattle and giggling]

See her as an adult,

sitting on the toilet

as she does
each day,
Ooh.
Hi, Josef.

[farts]

If you are alone

and you begin

to think of her,

tell her "Go away,

I hate you!" as

loud as you can.

You pinch yourself

as hard as you can!

Say it!

Go away!

Pinch yourself!
Pinch yourself!

Pinch yourself
as hard as

you can!

Go away!
I hate you!

Listen. If you're
ever alone

and you begin to think

about her, shout

"Go away, I hate you"

as loud as you can.

Say it. I hate you.

I hate you!!

I hate you!

I hate you!!

I hate you!

I hate you!!

Louder!
Say it.

I hate you,
Say it! Josef, if you are
ever alone, you begin

to think of her,

you shout "Go away,

I hate you" as loud

as you can. Say it.

As loud as you can.

Say it. I hate you.

Go--away!!
I hate you!!

I love you,

(Breuer)
Go away!

I hate you!

What are
we waiting

for, Fishman?

(fishman)
Yeah, ho!

Hm.

Your heart
is strong.

But mine
is close

to bursting.

After yesterday,
I feel like a bear

being trained to dance,

It's true.
I've lowered you.

And myself.

And a teacher
should be

a raiser of men.

We are
missing something.
Yes, we've neglected
to understand

the meaning

behind your obsession.

How can we
discover the

meaning of something

that I myself
have concealed?

By talking
about it.

What would your

life be if there

was no Bertha?

Life without Bertha--

would be
a colorless one.

Everything would
be decided.

This medical bag,

these black clothes.

I'm a scientist.
Yet science has

no color.

I need passion!

I need magic!

That's what
Bertha represents.

Life without passion,

without mystery?

Who can live

such a life?

But he is
expecting me.

You're lured to mystery.

You're lured to danger.
But I hate danger.

I live my
life safely.

Living safely
is what's dangerous.

Living safely
is dangerous?

Nietzsche, there is
no Professor

Nietzsche here.

Check again.

There is
no Professor

Nietzsche here.

Perhaps Bertha
represents my

desire to escape

my deadly safe life,

the trap of time.

Time is our
burden, Josef.

The greatest challenge

is to live in

spite of it.

I hate women
with lips.

Why do you
show me this?

Because she has

a combination

of lips,

eyes and breasts--

that give her almost

superhuman powers.

Powers to
do what?

When I'm
with her,

I feel that
I'm in the center

of an orderly,

tranquil universe.

An intensely
beautiful place

where there
are no questions

about life or purpose.

Like walking
on clouds.

Where do your
thoughts go now?

Her eyes--
they glisten,

She doesn't speak,

yet she talks

to me.

And what does

she say?

She says--

"Josef,

you are adorable."

And in
that moment,

I am.

When she told me

one day that she

dreamed of us
making love,

I was ecstatic.

What a victory,

To enter a place
where no man

has ever been.

Have you ever known
a Bertha, Frederich?

friedrich,

I once knew
a woman who could

not be denied. Yes.

Tell me more
about this woman.

What was
her name?

Do you still
love her?

We are more
in love with desire,

than the desired.

[opera music]

(Breuer)
Si99y.

These sessions
with Nietzsche

have become
the center

of my day.

Why?

The relief
of disclosure.

Perhaps in 5O years
this talking cure

might develop into

a precise science.

I thought
I could

help him.

No longer.

He has everything
to offer me.
I'm wondering
if part of this

talking cure

involves learning with

the patient transfers

to his doctor.

Shh.

What would it
be to live as

Nietzsche lives?

No house.

No obligations,

No wife.
No responsibilities.

(Lou)
"Goodbye, my

dear Lou.

" I won't see

you again,

"You've caused damage.

You've done harm.

And not only to me,

but to all people

who loved me."

(Nietzsche3
"And this sword

hangs over you,

But I hope
you will make

good to Henry,

what you couldn't

make good to me,

(Nietzsche)
Yes!

You make music sick.

You are sick!

You are sick!

[taps rhythmically with foot]

[orchestra begins to play]

Wagner.

The first requiems.

You make music sick!

You tyrant!
You tyrant!

You antisemite!

I hate you!

I hate you!

[loud music]

[Nietzsche,
shouting,

no music]

Wagner,
You make

music sick,

[music]

Hate.
Hate.

Hate.
[gasping]

Fritz.

Fritz.

[music]

late.

Fritz!

Hate!

Look at me!

Talk to my animals.

Fritz!
late.

(Breuer)
I visit my parents'

grave once a month,

Would you like

to come with

me today?

It's less than

one hour's ride

from the city,

Why didn't you tell

me your mother's

name was Bertha?

She died
when I

was three.

I have very few

memories of her.

No conscious memories.

Are you suggesting

I love Bertha

because she and

my mother shared

the same name?

[thunder]

My mother
is hardly

real to me.

Bertha Pappenheim
is the most real

thing in my life.

I think
your obsession

with Bertha

has never been

about Bertha.
A year after
my father died,

I had a dream.

This grave opens,

and my father
rises up,

and he runs
to this church.

It's where
he preached,

And he grabbed
this small child,

and he climbed back--

into the grave,

I always believed
that this dream

predicted my
brother's death, but

I suspect it
was my own--

it was my
own fear.

I was
that boy.

[thunder]

In my
father's arms.

And fear is expressed

in your dream

where you--

plunge towards
the closed coffin.

Who is inside
the coffin?

I don't remember.

Who is the one

who stops you
from falling

to your death?

Your crippled Bertha?

Or perhaps
your mother?

The real Bertha.

Who, Josef?

Who is inside
the coffin?

I can still
see her face.

She's smiling
at me.

Hm.

Your mother?

How could she

leave me?

[trembling breaths]

I never really
let her go.

Perhaps adult figures

enter a child's mind

and refuse to leave.

But you must be

as frightened as

I am of death--

and godlessness.

We must die.
But at the

right time.

Death only loses

its terror when

one has

consummated one's life.

Have you
consummated

your life?

I have achieved
a great deal.

But have you

lived your life?

Or have you
been lived

by it?

You stand outside

your life, grieving,

for some life

that you--

you never lived.

I cannot change
my life!

I have my family,
my patients!

Students.

It's too late.

I cannot tell
you how to

live differently.

If I did,
you'd still be living

by some other's design,

but perhaps
I could give you

a gift, Josef.

Maybe I could give

you a thought.

What if some demon

were to say to you

that this life,

as you now live it,

have lived it
in the past,

you would have to live

once more but--

innumerable times more.

There will
be nothing

new in it.

Every pain, every joy,

every unutterably small

or great thing

in your life would

just return to you.

The same succession,

the same sequence,

again and again,

like an hourglass
of time.

Imagine infinity.

Consider the possibility

that every action

you choose, Josef,

you choose
for all time.

Then all--unlived life

would remain--
inside you.

Unlived,
Throughout eternity,

You like
this idea?

Do you
hate it?

Which?

I hate it!

Why?

The only thing

I love about my life

is the thought

that I have fulfilled

my duties to my wife

and children.

Duty?

Your duty
is a sham.

It's the curtain

you hide behind.

To truly build
your children,

you build
yourself. First.

And as for your wife,

let her break out from

this prison you share.

And be
broken by it.

Hm?

(Sigmund)
Are you sure

about this?

To continue
with the sense

that I have not lived.

That I have not

tasted freedom.

The idea fills

me with horror.

Help me, Siggy.

Fly! Fly!

Fly!
You're free!

You're free!

And you too

are free.

(Mathilde)
free them?

This is madness,

Suddenly I find
that I am old.

I am facing death
without having

lived my life!

Since when is there

your life and

my life?

We made a covenant
to share our lives.

Leave if you want!

But not until I tell

you about the cruel

joke of freedom.

I wish I had
your freedom.

Freedom of a man
to obtain

an education.

To choose
a profession.

I wish I had
the vocabulary,

the logic

to express
just how foolish

you sound!

Mathilde, if I
am able to

find my life

we will both
be better off.
Perhaps I will
come back

to this life.

But it must be
my choice!

Have you forgotten

about the choice you

made in marrying me?

What choices
does a deserted

wife have?

You are young,

rich, attractive!

You will be
as free

as I am!

We have
three children!

Mathilde, I should
have been I before

I became we!

Words! Words!
You cannot live

in words!

I choose
my life, too.

And I choose
to tell you

you cannot return

to this house

because it will
no longer be

your home!

Once you leave,

I will no longer

be your wife!

Mama!
Say goodbye
to your father,

children.

Forever.

Please, Papa,
don't leave.

[weeping]

Get out there.

Leave, if that's

what you want.

Robert, I'm still

your father.

No, you're not

my father anymore.

Robert.

Goodbye, my
little chickens.

I only have
one life!

(Breuer)
Nietzsche is right.

My freedom has been here

all along for the taking.

Now is my last chance,

This is my one
and only life.

I'm looking for

Bertha Pappenheim,

She's in the garden

with the doctor.

Should I inform her

you are here?

No, thank you,

I shall wait.

Please, wait for

her upstairs.

Thank you.
I love you.

You will always be

the only man in

my life.

Josef!
How are you?

Papa, don't leave,

(Nietzsche)
Having doubts, Josef?

How could I
have given

up everything?

You'd given up
everything long

before you met me.

Yes, but now

I have nothing!

And nothing
is everything.

In order to grow
strong, you

must first

sink your roots deep

into nothingness,

But learn to
face your

loneliest loneliness,

[weeping]
My wife.

My children.

How could I
have left them?

You must be ready

to burn yourself

in your own flame,

How could you

become new,

if you would not

first become ashes?

Waiter.

Josef?

Dr. Breuer?

Josef!

Where are
you going?!

What a ridiculous man.

(Sigmund)
Josef, come back?

Josef!

Josef!
Look out!

Josef!

Josef!
Come back!

Josef!

Josef!

Josef, listen
to me.

[choking]

Eight,

Seven,

Six,

five,

four,

three,

One,

[gasping]

You're wide
awake now.
Where am I?

Where am I?

Everything's alright,
Josef.

Siggy--

what's happening
to me?

You are in
your house.

It'll all come

back to you.

I did exactly
as you instructed.

I hypnotized you
using your watch

as a pendulum.

Here it is, Josef,

on your desk.

Yes.
Yes.

Yes, I remember.

How long
was I under?

Nearly an hour.

You wept,
you looked frightened,

I asked you
if you wanted

to stop,

[gasps]

Now I know
what it would

be like--

to live differently.

Max and Rachel

have arrived
for dinner.

Mathilde.

You complain
you don't see

enough of me.

Yet, when
I'm here,

you want
to desert me?

I've been
away, my dear.

But now
I am back.

I'm glad
you're here.

Dr. Freud,
my husband

needs a doctor.

To your health,
my boy.

And to you, Max.

(Max)
And to

you, Josef.

Cheers.

Oh!

[whistle and chuckle]

Mmm.

My boy, my boy.

Excuse me.

[trembling breaths]

[breathes in
sharply]

Have I made
you cry?
It's a good cry.
It's sad too.

When I think
how long it's been-

Marry me, Mathilde.

Please.

I think we did this

15 years ago.

And I choose
to do it again.

Today.

And every day

for the rest

of our lives.

(Nietzsche)
So, tell me, how

did you cast her out?

Well, I was terrified

by aging and death.

I fought back
but blindly.

In desperation,
I attacked my wife

and sought rescue

in the arms of one

who had
no rescue

to give!

In a certain sense,
I've betrayed you,

I have been
so dishonest

with you.

Completely.

I was
myself involved

with a woman.
A few months ago.

Her name
was Lou.

Not so unlike
your Bertha.

Beautiful girl.

I fell in love.

She just appeared

to be my twin brain.

My soul's mate,

And she led me

on to believe

that I was the man

to whom she was

destined and--

I believed her,

And when I offered

myself to her,

she spurned me--

in favor of
my best friend--

in the world.

[thunder]

I must tell you

that there

is not--

not one day

that goes by--

not even an hour,

where I do
not think

of that woman.

She is your Bertha.

But you see?

You've been doing
double work here.

Yours and mine.

I'm like the most

cowardly of women.

And I crouch behind

your back here,

letting you face

all the dangers

all alone.

You have courage.

Friedrich, there is
something I must

tell you.

Dr. Breuer?

How do you do?

You must read these

letters Nietzsche

has sent me.

These are
my private letters.

You did see

her then?

Yes, but I
refused her.

So all of this
was just

a pretense.

I made a promise
to help you.

I never betrayed
that promise.

What did she do?

She took you

by the arm?

Told you she had

to spend more
time with you?

I shared one,
one holy moment

with her,

it's the only

holy moment

I've ever known.

No one fell
in love with

me, ever. Ever.

Friedrich, it may
have been a holy

moment for you,

but not for her.

What are
you saying?

She never mentioned

the water?

No.

I feel such
a loss.

Hm.

I don't know.

I think I've
lost Lou.

And you.

Everything, I lose.

I could have
[indistinct]

from your mind.

And you
have a family.

You have your family

and I have

my pretenses.
My secret little
ways of tolerating

my aloneness.

But I glorify it,

don't I?

And I just don't

want to die alone.

I don't want my body

just to be discovered.

By its stench.

Lou softened that fear

for me for a while.

But you're right.

It's just
an illusion.

Friedrich.

It's such
an illusion.

friedrich,
She does care

about you,

She went
to extremes

to help you.

If your tears
had a voice,

what would they say?

I feel so ashamed.

Tell me.

My tears
would say

we're free.

You never
let us out,

until Dr. Breuer

opened the gate.
And what about
the sadness

behind those tears?

It's not sadness.

It's such a relief.

It's such
a relief!

It's the first time

I'm revealing

my loneliness.

It's melting.
It's melting away.

It's a paradox,
Isolation exists

only in isolation.

Once shared,
it evaporates.

My dear friend.

We are friends.

I like saying that.

No one ever said

this to me.

I like it.

I like it.

We are friends.

Friedrich.

It's good.

Stay with us tonight.

Have supper
with me and

my family.

No, it would mean

to abandon

my mission.

It's time
we went

our ways.

"We'll have friends,

and have become

strangers to each other,

"This is as
it ought to be.

"We do not want either

to conceal or obscure

the fact

"as if we had
to be ashamed

of it.

We are two ships,

each of which has

its goal and its course."

And finally, Dr. Breuer,

"We have to become

strangers to one another

because it's the law

to which we

are subject."

Have a safe journey.

My dear friend.