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Dogville CD2

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No, I just thought it pleased you to be here, that's all.
Go on. Go on, it's alright.
I'll see you this afternoon..
and I'll rake those bushes like they've never been raked before, I promise.
I'm sorry about that branch. There were so many apples on it.
I should have cut that brance, but I got greedy.
Is it greedy to want to feed your family?
So how come you don't like me?
Why do you ask me that?
When I get close to you, you edge away.
- No, I don't. - You did so.
When we were thinning the seedlings in the bottom row.
How am I supposed to show you what I do if I ain't allow to touch you?
You tried to kiss me.
Vera never took any interest in the apples. She hates the orchard.
The is the first time I've ever met anyone, who understand about the apples.
Sorry... it made me so happy.
It's alright.
No, it ain't alright. I reckon the stuff about the apples is just words in your mouth.
If you can't really share my pleasure...
I do.
Vera wants me to picking apples from trees that are barely in the ground.
Things take time. That's love!
Seeing what they need and respecting those needs.
If anyone understands that, it's you. At least I thought so.
I do understand that.
But you edge away when I get close.
- Why do you find me so repugnant? - I don't find you repugnant.
Don't be upset.
I'm sorry if I doubted you. It won't happen again.
I promise you.
I wouldn't make that promise if I were you.
When you fended me off, a thought came into my mind
that made me ashamed. A thought that you would hate me for.
I would never hate you, never.
Chuck, I've treated you unfairly. It's alright to have angry thoughts.
I thought of turning you in!
I thought of blackmailing you into respecting me.
It means that much to you? It does, doesn't it?
You've really been alone up here, haven't you?
You haven't had anyone to comfort you and I should ask you for forgiveness.
Still friends?
- Sorry... Were you asleep? - No.
- Do you want me to leave? - No, I was just resting.
Awful lot to do here in Dogville, considering nobody needs anything done.
Jason wants to sit on my lap all the time.
I think you're doing a wonderful job.
You give us all so much. What Mr. McKay said...
right on the button.. right on the button.
He tried to put his hands on my knee today.
Oh, he is blind, after all. Probably an accident.
And Ma Ginger got angry at me for running across the gravel path.
Well good. She gets angry at me,
which just means that you're one of us now.
You can see through it all, can't you?
I'll tell you, I'm gonna be asleep in two minutes.
What if I don't want you to go to sleep?
I don't think you have a choice tonight.
I do love you, Grace.
I'm glad you love me. I love you, too. I really do.
No, I mean, I yearn for you when I am not with you.
I yearn for you even when we're alone like this.
I yearn to be even closer to you... to touch you, the way that people...
We have our whole lives ahead of us.
The thing that I love about you is that you don't demand anything of me.
That we can just be together.
Yearning will only make it better.
Thank you for your words, your wise wise words.
You're welcome.
Do you want your shoes off?
Jason, what are you doing here? That's wrong.
The words have to be divided differently.
Stop it.
How's that for dividing the words?
This is not a good day. Everybody should leave.
Everybody except Jason. Jason, I wanna talk to you alone.
What is it? What's going on?
I can be very bad. I bet my pa told you.
I don't think that. I think there is another reason for this.
I'd love to have you on my lap all the time, but I can't, not with the others here.
When somebody can't do all the things they'd like to do for others,
sometimes the people they promised get mad.
That's what Mrs. Henson says.
Yes, that's true.
I suppose I know why you won't let me sit in your lap anymore.
- Why? - Because I've been mean lately.
Oh, come on. I'm sure you have your reasons for that.
I have been mean to the others, too, even baby Achilles.
And he's so tiny he can't put up a fight.
- It's not right - No, it's not.
I got it coming to me, I know.
I deserve a spanking.
What? I should hit you? I'm not gonna do that.
Your mother doesn't believe in physical discipline. I'm not gonna hit you.
I know. She'd be awful mad if she found out you whipped me.
Oh, I just said I won't do that.
It's good having ma on your side, right? It'd be pretty serious if she turned against you.
I am the way I am. If people in this town don't like me,
then there is nothing I can do about that.
I feel bad I need to be punished.
The fact is, I wouldn't have any respect for you if you don't give me a spanking.
I don't care how much fun you think it would be.
I'm not gonna spank you, Jason.
In that case, when Ma gets home maybe I'll just have to tell her you hit me.
But I just said that I wouldn't!
I reckon Ma'll take my word for it.
If you give me that spanking, nobody's ever have to know.
Stop it. Get away from Achilles. Stop it.
I gave his crib a shove. It's not my fault it didn't tip over.
Don't you touch him. Move away from the crib.
Stop it, Jason. Stop it!
All right. You want a spanking. I'll give you a spanking...
Come here. Come here!
- There! There we go. - That wasn't hard.
It's gotta be hard or it isn't punishment.
- All right. - Harder!
Oh, this is... come on. All right, that's enough.
That is enough punishment now.
Maybe I should go stand in the corner and be ashamed?
I don't care.. Stand in the corner. Do whatever you gotta do.
Hey, there is Pa!
He's early. I hope there is nothing wrong.
[Narrator] Just as Dogville had done from its open, frail shelf on the mountainside, quite unprotected from any capricious storms,
Grace, too, had laid herself open.
And there she dangled from her frail stalk like the apple in the Garden of Eden.
An apple so swollen that the juices almost ran.
And once again the police had come to Dogville.
I said I'd tell you, to save Martha the confusion about the ringing. But I forgot.
They're already down by Canyon Road.
The fellow in the other car is from the Federal Bureau of Investigation.
- You forgot! - Yah.
It is the busy time for the apples, you know.
The FBI?
They were most interested in hearing what I'd seen in the past six months,
anything related to that wanted poster.
They asked me if I'd seen any signs in the woods of anyone camping out there.
God only knows what that woman's capable of.
You know, she is not capable of anything.
Well, that's what you say. But it sure didn't sound that way coming from the laws.
That's why I felt I had to tell 'em what I knew.
What did you tell them?
Well, I thought I'd seen something in the woods recently.
An item of clothing to be exact.
It turned out that it was just an old hat Tom had lost.
- But it could've been this. - Chuck.. give me..
Expensive, by the feel of it, and your initials on it.
I imagine they'd draw the same conclusion from this as anybody would.
I told the law it'd take me no time at all to find this piece of clothing.
I reckon we got us ten minutes, maybe fifteen, 'fore they start knocking on doors.
I wouldn't try to run away. They are sure to see you.
Why would I wanna run away, Chuck?
I wouldn't try to holler, either.
Why would I wanna do that?
It wasn't me who wanted you here.
You were far to beautiful and frail for this place.
You tricked me into feeling that I meant something to you.
It's your own damn fault. I need your respect, Grace.
- You have my respect. - I want your respect.
This is wrong..
If I can force the flowers to bloom early in spring, I can force you...
Stop it! Please.. Please... Please, don't!
Please! Please...
Please look at me, talk to me.
We're friends, you and my family..
Stop it!
Have you seen Grace?
She's at my place.
- Is she busy? - Not anymore. Go right in.
[Narrator] Yet again Grace had made a miraculous escape from her pursuers with the aid of the people of Dogville.
Everyone had covered up for her, including Chuck, who had to admit
that it was probably Tom's hat he'd mistakenly considered so suspicious.
That evening Tom had sensed at once that something had taken place,
but had to plead with Grace for ages before she finally broke down
and unburdened herself.
- I have to confront him. I mean. - No!
- I have no other choice. - No.
- No one will accept what he did to you. No one. - I don't want you to.
I came here with all these ideas and these stupid prejudices.
He is not strong, Tom.
He looks strong, but he's not.
I'm gonna start looking for a way to get you out of here.
[Narrator] The end of the summer had come.
And in Elm Street the second clutch of Dogville's scatty squirrels scooted in and out of the legs of children and grown-ups alike
searching in vain for Elm Street's non-existent elms.
The heat had turned the soil among the gooseberry bushes to stone, but Grace did not complain.
She threw herself into her work,
happy that it was something you could actually grasp between your fingers.
Hey, Liz! Hey, Vera!
Better watch out, Grace. Vera's got it in for you today.
What are you talking about?
Maybe you thought he wouldn't tell me?
You hit Jason.
I did.
How could you do such a thing?
I know it sounds implausible, but he was asking for it.
It's true, Vera. He's always asking for it.
I should have done that myself a long time ago.
- Liz! - It's your fault, the way you've spoiled him.
I know how much you love him, Vera. So do I...
It won't happen again. It really won't.
No. I know it won't, because I'll never leave them with you again.
That'd be far too dangerous for any child of mine.
I've been tired.
Well, maybe you should see about sleeping at night, like most folks do.
Sleeping at night?
Martha saw a certain Tom Edison Jr. sneak out of her shed early this morning.
Grace, you won't hear anything from me about whipping that idiot kid.
And I'm also grateful to you for turning Tom's wandering eye away from my skirts.
But on the other hand, I'd expected more from you than that.
But if that's the kind of thing you're after, then I'm sure, with your innocent look,
you will do just fine in a place like Dogville.
- It's not what I'm after, Liz. - Oh, no?
We all saw you take his hand to the picnic. Maybe that wasn't flirting?
Yes... Maybe I was flirting..
[Narrator] Next day the weather changed. The fog came rolling down from the mountains.
And althought there were no sunsets to be seen, McKay thought it best that she sat by him anyway.
She had sat by Jack McKay so many times now,
but Jack had not got better at judging the distance between them.
On the contrary, where fingers alone had previously brushed her young flesh,
now it was a and that remained in place throughout the allotted span.
The hour in the orchard were long now, for the harvest was under way.
And Grace had long since given up arguing with Chuck's perception that respect for cultivation,
harvest, and fruit could be directly measured in provision of carnality.
Though reluctant to leave Grace alone, Tom wantered around quite often now,
lost in thought as he tried to crack the problem of possible escape.
And as Grace's wages no longer found their way to her purse he had stepped in,
and together they had triumphantly picked up the last of the seven figurines from Ma Ginger's windows.
What's the matter?
- Nothing. - Are the police on Canyon Road again?
No. This is just girl talk.
It's funny you should mention Canyon Road, though... right, Martha?
- She was just there this morning. - Yeah.
- On the way home from church... - You see so much more on foot, you know.
When you're in a car you never notice the apple orchard, for example.
You can only see it from one spot on Canyon Road.
- Do you know that spot, Martha? - Yes I do.
And did you stop there to enjoy the view this morning?
It's harvest time, you know, in the orchard after all.
The old masters always loved a good harvest theme.
Redolent, with fertility, not to mention sensibility or even eroticism.
But how silly of me to ask you that, Martha, because you already said you did.
She saw you, Grace..
She saw you..
behind this pile of broken limbs..
with Chuck...
He said it wasn't the first time you'd made advances towards him.
He never told me before because he wanted to spare my feelings.
He's a withdrawn and primitive man,
but at heart he's loyal and he is good.
What do you want with my husband?
I don't want anything with your husband or anybody.
What about Tom and the hand-holding at the picnic?
That's different. I like Tom.
But you don't like Chuck.
Liz and Martha are behind me, when I tell you that I'm going to have to teach you a lesson.
I believe in education.
No. I believe smashing them is less a crime than making them.
Vera.. remember how I taught your children..
- What? - Remember how happy you were, when I...
- When you what? - When I taught your children about the doctrine of stoicism
and they finally understood it.
All right.. For that, I'm gonna be lenient.
I'm going to break two of your figurines first,
and if you can demonstrate your knowledge of the doctrine of stoicism by holding back your tears,
I'll stop. Have you got that?
[Narrator] In her lifetime Grace had considerable practice at constraining her emotions,
and would never have believed it would be hard to control them now.
But as the porcelain pulverized on the floor it was as if it were human tissue disintegrating.
The figurines were the offspring of the meeting between the township and her.
They were the proof that in spite of everything, her suffering had created something of value.
Grace could not longer cope.
For the first time since her childhood, she wept.
Grace went to see Tom that very night, and informed him that she was ready to follow his advice and leave the township.
And since Tom had just made up his mind that a third party would be needed to ensure the success of an escape,
they agreed that Ben possessed the greatest potential.
But it was a case where money was required, Tom concluded,
and estimated, that considering the times and all, ten dollars would suffice for Ben and his truck.
- But we don't have ten dollars. - No. We borrow it.
- From whom? - From Dad.
He has more than that in the medicine closet.
I talk to him in the morning and arrange a loan.
But you have a word with Ben...
It's the end of the week, he's bound to be flat broke.
Tell your father that I will pay him back.
Of course.
Thank you.
You are always rescuing me.
I can't believe that you go on being there for me.
Good night..
You should get some sleep.
[Narrator] Grace went to see Ben next morning.
When Grace presented the payment as compensation between friends,
Ben did not object too heartily,
considering the trouble he could receive from the rest of the towns-people when they realized what had happened.
Perhaps they'd all be relieved that she was out of their lives,
but somehow Grace wasn't too sure of that.
Ben agreed to drive her, even though he wasn't out to profit from other folks' misfortunes, as he put it.
- I don't wanna profit from other folks' misfortunes. - No..
[Narrator] The fact was that Ben would have driven to the gates of Hell and back for ten dollars
And the criminal aspect bugged him less than Grace would ever have guessed;
he had freighted all kinds of things in his day.
The plan was for Grace to hide among the apples.
Knowing the exact time to harvest is the greatest art of all, Chuck had said,
and the time had come for the apples and for Grace.
Grace, where've you been?
If I'd displayed the same indifference to the timing of my chores I'd be in for a whippin'
Now get a move on!
I'm sorry, Olivia. I had to talk to Ben about something.
June is near to bursting.
She can't use the pot on her own, as you well know.
It ain't fittin' to toy with her just 'cause she's crippled and can't help herself.
[Narrator] The evening before the escape Tom tactically thought it best not to press his desires of the flesh too hard upon Grace,
and instead he adopted a more sensitive approach.
But there is a right and a wrong time to plant seeds and you can't plant seeds in the winter.
That's true. But I love you...
- I know. - And you love me
and we will meet again in love and in freedom.
I shouldn't be ashamed wanting you, should I? It's nothing to be ashamed of.
- No. - No.. no. It's lovely. It's lovely that we want each other.
- But not this way. - No.
It's not right.
[Narrator] The next morning, when Grace wanted to slip down to Ben's as invisibly as possible,
it seemed to Grace that the entire township was up and about at the same time.
- Grace! - Yes, Vera..
If you think that by hitting my child you can get out of working for me, think again.
Why don't you just come by as planned,
and we'll find something where you won't be able to harm anyone.
- At twelve o'clock? - Yes.
Why are you taking your copious belongings around with you?
Afraid you are gonna loose them?
Grace, Ben's hauling apples today so we won't be loading glasses.
But that don't mean you're off work. Dad wants you to repack the whole last load.
Maybe you can do it better and we'll have an extra crate.
An old crate like that may not have much value in your eyes, but this is Dogville.
We're not wealthy here.
And if your hands get a bit red, well, I've got a tip about something you can rub on 'em.
- Grace! - Oh, Martha..
We have to wash the flagstones at the foot of the steps again.
Dirt has gone blown under the door. I can't get the door open.
Where have you been? Harvest is the holiest time of the year.
Does it not sound like something you could have said?
I'll be down in a minute, Chuck. I'll bring the crates down.
[Narrator] As Grace hastened to the garage,
she grew more and more pleased with the decision to keep her departure under wrap.
There was actually quite a bit of work Dogville didn't need doing
that its residents would have to carry out for themselves in future.
Yeah, er, Grace, I don't like having to say this, but I'd like to ask if I could have the money up front.
See, it's always the way in the freight industry.
Once you deliver a load you ain't got much to bargain with, if you catch my drift.
Of course. Here's the money.
Not that this is a professional job, of course.
- Don't get out... - All right, Ben.
'till I give the say-so!
[Narrator] Canyon Road snaked down the valley and away, and Grace went too,
and with every bend the township and its noises faded ever more mercifully behind her.
- Is something wrong? - Yeah.
There are a hell lot of.. a lot of police up ahead.
I wasn't expecting that.
It's more dangerous than I thought. We'll have to go back.
No! we can't do that.
It's just....
if this was a professional transport job, you know, paid proper'd be a lot easier, but...
But it's been paid for...
Yeah, but, in the freight industry carrying dangerous load it cost more.
A surcharge, they call it.
If this were a professional job, I could just charge you.
But Bun, I don't have any more money.
Oh, that's no good then.
You said once, you said once, that there aren't many pleasures in my life.
And you know, I go to Miss Laura once a week.
And you got me to see that it weren't nothing to be ashamed of.
I was gonna go there tonight...
and of course it costs me.
I mean, not as much as...
not as much as a surcharge for dangerous goods, but still...
it does cost me, you know.
No, Ben, no... please don't..
It's not personal, Grace. It's not personal. I just...
I have to take due payment, that's all.
I don't .. I don't have a choice.
I can't buck the freight in this big craft.
We're parked in the square in Georgetown. Right outside the church.
You'd better keep your voice down.
No, Ben...
This ain't somethin' I'm proud of, Grace. Don't go thinking that.
[Narrator] Grace fell asleep on the long highway, thanks to her healthy ability to push any unpleasantness around her far away.
A generous God had blessed her with the rare talent of being able to look ahead,
and only ahead.
And later when the truck slowed down about to reach its destination and she slowly returned to consciousness,
she had no way of knowing how long she had slept.
All she knew was that she would be happy to see the light of day again.
And then she heard the dog.
All your fondness for apples seems less and less believable.
You've bruised 'em.
We had a meeting last night at the mission house.
They said you might be going to try to run away,
so when I discovered you'd hidden yourself away on my truck,
I didn't have no choice but to bring you back to Dogville.
In the freight industry we can't take sides.
[Narrator] It didn't help Grace that the first theft ever registered in Dogville had taken place the previous evening,
when most people were assembled for the town meeting.
Old Tom Edison Senior had a considerable sum of money stolen from his medicine closet
and suspicion soon fell on Grace,
who had apparently been planning an escape that would surely require funding.
Grace chose to remain silent in the face of these new charges.
And then Bill, who had lately improved his engineering skills to an astonishing degree,
had, by way of his first design, implemented a kind of escape prevention mechanism.
Beautiful it might not have been, but effective he dared say it was.
Grace, we don't like having to do this.
We don't have much of a choice if we are to protect our community.
Could you... Do you mind moving? Try moving.
It works.
We had to make this heavy enough so that it can only move where the ground's level.
And the ground is level in town.
May I go now?
I have to figure out how I'm going to get into my house.
Or is that part of the punishment, having to sleep outdoors?
No, no no Grace.
Don't think of this as punishment. Not at all!
Bill, he made the chain long enough so that you can sleep in your bed.
Grace, six o'clock.
Yes, Mrs. Henson.
I couldn't run the risk of Dad turning me down.
But, they think it was me that took the money.
'Cause I told them so.
You did what?
First they suspected me, but then I convinced them that it was you,
since you were the one using the medicine closet.
Because I'm here to do the thinking for you.
If we are to have the slightest chance of getting you out of here,
they can never know how close we really are.
They can't know I'm trying to help you.
If they knew it was me that took the money, I wouldn't be here talking to you now.
Please don't disappear, Tom.
I need you.
I'll break this one... with some thinking.
[Narrator] It was not Grace's pride that kept her going during the days when fall came and the trees were losing their leaves,
but more of the trance-like state that descends on animals whose lives are threatened,
a state in which the body reacts mechanically, in a low, tough gear,
without too much painful reflection.
Like a patient passively letting his disease hold sway.
And now that Vera had received proof that it was in fact Chuck who'd forced his attentions on Grace,
she was meaner than ever.
Had Grace had friends in Dogville they, too, fell like the leaves.
The most towns-people of the male sex now visited Grace at night to fulfill their sexual needs.
It had occurred to the children to give the bell an extra ring
every time such an act had been consummated, much to Martha's confusion.
But since the chain had been attached things had become easier for everyone:
the harassments in bed did not have to be kept so secret anymore,
because they couldn't really be compared to a sexual act.
They were embarrassing in the way it is when a hillbilly has his way with a cow,
but no more than that.
Tom saw everything.
It pained him, and the sexual visits were a particularly severe blow.
But he supported her as best he could, the way a spider supports,
when it has been tangled in its own web by the wind.
Everything I tried to do went wrong.
I can't come up with the answe I was looking for.
You'll come up with it, you'll see. You're very clever.
- We provoked them. - I wouldn't worry about it.
We provoked them. Now it is time for us to provoke ourselves.
What do you mean?
I mean, by showing them some trust.
It all started with a meeting, so it will be logical to end it with one, too.
You'll talk and they'll listen. They can't refuse to listen.
- What will I say? - Everything. You'll say everything.
- Everything? - Yeah, the truth. The Truth.
Just the truth about each and every one of them.
I don't think they are gonna want to hear that.
I know, I know. It is like a child who doesn't want to take his medicine.
They'll be furious at first, but in the end they'll see it is for their own good.
Just don't be hateful. Don't be reproving.
If anybody can do it, Grace, you can.
They'll all realize that this weapon and this understanding and injustice has only one true victim and that's you.
And from there it is only one small step to forgiveness.
You've done some hard thinking, Tom Edison.
I'm sure it is an excellent plan. I'm sure.
[Narrator] If forgiveness was close at hand in the mission house, they were all hiding it well.
It hadn't been easy for Tom to get them there.
Appealing to consciences stowed farther and farther away by their owners every day
as if they were as fragile as Henson's glasses after polishing, had proved quite a task.
But if one was going, the others might as well come along, too,
so nobody could talk behind anybody's back.
Tom had set the scene for Grace's speech.
Now she'd have to sink or swim, and sincerity be brought to bear.
While Grace addressed the silent congregation in the mission house on Elm Street
the first of the early autumn snowstorms embraced the town.
The snowflakes dusted down over the old buildings as if this were just any old town.
And they played in the brances and twigs from which the apples had hung,
but luckily the harvest was home and via the freight industry had found a market
despite the ever disappointing prices.
Grace had presented her story with clarity.
She had not embellished or understated.
And just as she finished the snowflakes all at once stopped tumbling down,
leaving Dogville clad in the daintiest, whitest blanket of snow imaginable.
I don't think it went very well.
It's fine. You did good.
[Narrator] The snow had come early, perhaps too early.
A misplaced augury of conciliation.
Tom looked around, worried:
Vera's teeth were clenched. She was the first to speak.
Copious lies. Just lies.
Yes, Tom. It doesn't accord with the perceptions I got of this town and its residents.
I'm a doctor, damn it, I don't need anyone to tell me if I'm sick or not.
What do you have to say for yourself, Tom?
Maybe it's time you picked sides!
Are you for us or against us?
Liz is right. We've been far too indulgent with Tom.
Tom, I got to tell you. Even I have trouble defending that girl.
With your help, which I prefer to think was accidental, Tom,
she has managed to spread bitterness and troubles throughout this whole town.
She has to go. How do we get rid of her, Tom?
So how do we do it, Tom?
I agree, Tom. You brought her in here. You got to figure out how to get her out.
Without her lies and accusations spreading.
I asked you here to listen.
You only came to defend yourselves.
I'm sorry it's quite a blow to me...
to see all of my friends act this way, so uncivilized.
Your plan didn't work out very well, did it?
- You'll think of another one. - No,
No more plans, I promise.
They asked me to choose between you and them.
That's not difficult on a day like today. I love you.
You may be stronger, it's true, but the ideals, the ideals we share.
You're exhausted. Lie down.
I've chosen, Grace. I have chosen you.
Now it is the time! The time we've been waiting for.
We free ourselves of Dogville.
You're right. You're right, Tom. It'd be so easy to make love right now.
They may kill us any minute.. It would be the perfect romantic ending.
I know. I feel it too. I love you.
It would be so beautiful, but from ...
from the point of view of our love, so completely wrong.
We were to meet in freedom.
You're cold now, Grace.
I've just rejected everybody I've ever known in your favor.
Wouldn't it be worth compromising, just one of your ideals just a little to ease my pain?
Everybody in this town has had your body, but me.
We're the ones supposed to be in love.
My darling Tom.
You can have me if you want me.
Just do what the others do.
Threaten me...
Tell me that you'll turn me in to the law, to the gangsters and I promise you,
you can take whatever it is you want from me.
I trust you...
but maybe you don't trust yourself?
Perhaps you've been tempted, you've been tempted to join the others and force me.
Perhaps that's why you're so upset.
All I've ever tried to do is help you.
I'm just asking if you're afraid that you could be so human.
No, I'm not afraid of that. Not in the least.
Let tomorrow bring that it's gonna bring.
It's not a crime to doubt yourself, Tom..
but it's wonderful that you don't.
I can't find the rest.
Maybe I should go out for a couple of minutes.
Take a walk or something... I don't know.
To get it all out of my system.
Trudge the streets..
Listen to the wind as it passes through the woods up through the valley
and all that.
You go to sleep, though...
You go to sleep and I will be back very soon.
[Narrator] Of course it was all a load of nonsense.
If anybody was capable of keeping track of ideals and reality, he was.
After all, it was his job. Moral issues were his home ground.
To think that he might doubt his own purity was really to think very little of him.
Tom was angry.
And in the midst of it all, he discovered why.
It was not because of he'd been wrongly accused,
but because the charges were true!
His anger consisted of a most unpleasant feeling of being found out!
It was all quite a blow to the young philosopher!
And realistically enough, he thought that if the doubt was already present, it could grow.
Perhaps so great that one day it would prove detrimental to his entire moral mission.
Tom stopped.
He almost began to shake when the threat to his career as a writer dawned upon him.
It didn't take him long to agree with himself that the risk was too great to run.
The danger Grace was to the town she was also to him!
Tom did not like it.
And he was man enough to take action to prevent it.
Fortunately Tom was as conscientious as regards his future profession as he was practical.
He allowed sincerity and ideals plenty of room in his life,
without getting "sentimental" about it, as he would put it.
Throwing away a document that might be of significance to Tom and with him future generation of readers as the basis of a novel or indeed a trilogy,
was not an act he was so stupid to commit,
although he had to admit that in a moment of weakness he might have said he would.
Before returning to the meeting that night Tom opened the little drawer he had open the night of Grace's arrival,
and found it still there:
the card from the gangster in the car.
[Narrator] The next day the sun was shining in the brisk autumn sky,
and the snow was long since gone.
For the first time for ages the pile driver could be heard in the marshlands
as it hammered in the piles for what might or what might not be a penitentiary.
Grace opened her eyes after an almost unconscious sleep, and was confused.
Judging by the light coming through the cracks in the walls, it had to be nearly midday.
"The grey hour" as Jack McKay for some reason called noon in Dogville,
being a man of many ideas and proclivities, quite a few of which Grace would prefer to remain ignorant of.
But why had nobody roused her?
Nobody had hammered furiously at her door.
Not a child had thrown mud into her bed or broken her remaining windowpanes.
Now she remembered.
She recalled the meeting the previous day, and puzzled still more.
Why had she not been confronted with the outcome of that meeting? Or even killed?
It was quite unlike Dogville to restrain its indignation at any point.
Perhaps things had turned out well after all?
- Good morning, Mrs. Henson. - Oh.. good morning?
I would have come earlier. I overslept.
Oh, never mind. Liz put her back into it htis morning.
We thought some time off would be good for you.
That was quite a speech you made yesterday.
It gave us all something to think about.
- Hello, Liz! - Hi, Grace..
I overslept.
- Good morning Miss Grace? - Good morning..
- How are you this morning? - I overslept.
Oh, that's all right.
Tom. Tom, I think it's Grace.
Hello, Grace. Two seconds.. Good news.
I went back to the meeting last night.
I wasn't going to let them get off so easily.
But I'll be damned if the mood hadn't changed.
I wouldn't say we won exactly, not exactly, but I think something very good can come out of this,
- something very good. - Why didn't you come back and tell me?
I did, but you were asleep.
And you know, you looked like you needed it..
and that made me suggest that maybe you should have some time off.
And you know, not one single person objected.
That sounds wonderful.
I know it does, doesn't it?
The people of this town they surprise me again and again.
I might even have to revise my theories a little bit.
You know how much I hate doing that kind of thing.
You know, Grace, last night when I came back and I saw you lying there asleep so sweetly,
I was suddenly inspired. I wrote the first chapter of a story.
A story about a small town.
Guess where I got the inspiration?
But I haven't come up with a name for the town yet.
- Why not just call it Dogville? - Wouldn't work.
No, it wouldn't work. It's got to be universal. Lot of writers make that mistake, you see.
Hey, do you want me to read it to you?
If there is any love in it, it comes from you...
Would you be offended, if I said no?
- No. - If I really do have the day to myself, I...
No. No..
Two people only hurt each other if they doubt the love they have for one another.
You can read it some other time.
You sit down some place and gaze out at the mountains.
It's what the girl in my novel does.
- I'll see you later. - I'll see you. Good news!
[Narrator] Sensibly, Grace chose to hope for the best rather than fear the worst,
and planned to spend the day calmly washing her clothes and herself,
which, for some reason or another, she was sure none of the characters from Tom's fictitious township would dream of doing.
And then it was as if Dogville just waited.
Even the wind dropped, leaving the town in an unfamiliar calm.
as if somebody had put a large cheese dish cover over it,
and created the kind of quietness that descends while you are awaiting visitors.
After two days off Grace had been put back to work, but the quietness remained.
Indeed it intensified until on the fifth day it swelled into a strange mood
that, all of a sudden, brought all the citizens to the street to listen.
They asked each other if the phone was really still down,
or if they'd heard about Ben having had to turn his truck around on his way to Georgetown
that very morning on account of a large tree blocking the road.
They were not worried.
"worried" was not the right word, and then Tom spotted the cars.
Tom has binoculars. But you can see 'em with the naked eyes.
There must be at least eight!
I thought the road was blocked.
They must have come through before the tree came down.
June's bed! The sheets need changing. I'll be there in a minute.
Hello, June.
[Narrator] Grace had just started on the bed, which June had soiled yet again,
when an irritating feeling of wasting her time forced itself upon her.
And it was without thinking she then said the words:
Nobody gonna sleep here.
[Narrator] She didn't say them out loud,
but even so she was startled by the uttrance that had urged itself upon her.
Where had these ominous words come from?
Darkness was falling as Grace made her way home from work that evening.
The people on the square overlooking the valley had finally given up hope of seeing anything else
now the light had faded.
They trudged up Elm Street in disappointment.
- Tom? - Hi, Grace.
There were some cars, but it's too dark, we can't see any more.
We haven't seen much of each other.
Yah, I know. I've been busy with my book, you know.
Can I ask you something?
Yeah, anything.
You couldn't bring yourself to throw it away, could you?
The number he gave you that night. You couldn't throw it away.
I told yhou how dangerous that man was. That was stupid.
[Narrator] Stupid or not, Tom was soon a passionate spokesman for locking Grace in her shed that night.
If the vehicles were indeed a sign that the call Tom had placed five days earlier
on be half of the community to the number indicated on the card from his bureau drawer
had at last led to action,
and Grace was now to be eliminated from their lives,
it would surely look good if the town had also locked her up.
Grace was lying on the bed when Jason was sent up with the key.
Grace heard it turn in the lock,
but she was deeply absorbed by arguments and thoughts on matters she had otherwise avoided for the best part of a year now.
From the moment when they'd finally heard the sound of vehicles starting one after the other
from the direction of the edge of the woods,
things had moved rapidly.
Tom had arranged a delegation to provide a proper reception.
Dogville might be off the beaten track, but it was hospitable, nevertheless.
Welcome gentlemen. Welcome.
The town places itself at your disposal!
I should have a large key to give to you. But I only have this small one.
- Where is she? - Secured by this very key.
Where is she?
Okay. If you are wondering about that sound.
The driving piles for the new penitentiary.
Tell me, has the crime rate really gone up in this country, as we are lead to believe?
Maybe people just regard things as criminal, because they envy their success?
What's your opinion on the subject?
Maybe you have none. I'll get the door... sorry.
Voila! As the French might say.
What the hell is this?
Who did that?
Billy, put your hand up, put your hand up.
We felt safer, when she had the chain on. You are probably more adapted at handling her kind.
None of us feel able to accept money for just helping people.
I mean not unless it would make you feel better to diverst yourself.
- Shut the hell up! - Absolutely.
[Narrator] Grace was no expert in exclusive automobiles, yet she recognized with no difficulty
the sound of vehicle that was rounding the corner from Canyon Road at that very moment.
Alas, in Grace's memory the legendary purr of the Cadillac series 355C was inextricably linked
with another, rather less sophisticated sound:
that of gunfire directed against her person.
You need to justify your actions before you shoot us.
That's new.
That could be interpreted as weakness, Daddy... I'm disappointed in you!
I'm not gonna shoot anybody.
You shot at me before.
Yes, I'm sorry. I regret that.
You ran away.
But shooting at you certainly didn't help matters.
Of course not. You're far, far too stubborn.
If you don't want to kill me, then why did you come?
Our last conversation, the one in which you told me what it was you didn't like about me
never really concluded, as you ran away.
I should be allowed to tell you what I don't like about you.
That I believe would be a rule of polite conversation.
That's why you showed up?
And you call me stubborn.
You're sure you're not here to force me to go back and become like you?
If I thought there was a chance of forcing you, but of course that will never happen.
You are more than welcome to return home and become my daughter again anytime
and I would even begin to share my power and responsibility with you if you did.
Not that you care.
So what is it?
What is it, the thing... the thing that you don't like about me?
It was a word you used that provoked me.
You called me arrogant.
To plunder, as it were, a God given right. I'd call that arrogant, daddy.
But that is exactly what I don't like about you.
It is you that is arrogant.
That's what you came here to say?
I'm not the one passing judgement, Daddy. You are.
You do not pass judgement, because you sympathize with them.
A deprived childhood and a homicide really isn't necessarily a homicide, right?
The only thing you can blame is circumstances.
Rapists and murderers may be the victims, according to you.
But I, I call them dogs,
and if they're lapping up their own vomit the only way to stop them is with the lash.
But dogs only obey their own nature.
So why shouldn't we forgive them?
Dogs can be taught many useful things,
but not if we forgive them every time they obey their own nature.
So I'm arrogant. I'm arrogant because I forgive them?
My God..
Can't you see how condescending you are when you say that?
You have this preconceived notion that nobody, listne, that nobody can't possibly attain
the same high ethical standards as you, so you exonorate them.
I can not think of anything more arrogant than that.
You, my child... my dear child you forgive others with excuses
that you would never in the world permit for yourself.
Why shouldn't I be merciful? Why?
No no no.. You should be merciful, when there is time to be merciful.
But you must maintain your own standard. You owe them that. You owe them that.
The penalty you deserve for your transgressions, they deserve for their transgressions.
They are human beings.
No no no.. Does every human being need to be accountable for their action?
Of course they do. But you don't even give them that chance.
All that is extremely arrogant.
I love you. I love you. I love you to death.
But you are the most arrogant person I've ever met.
And you call me arrogant!
I have no more to say.
You are arrogant. I'm arrogant. You've said it. Now you can leave.
And without my daughter, I suppose?
- I said, without my daughter? - Hmm, yes!
- Well.. - Yes.
Well, you decide. you decide... Grace, they say you are having some trouble here.
No. No more trouble than back home.
I'll give you a little time to think about this.
- Perhaps you will change your mind. - I won't.
Listen, my love.. power is not so bad...
I am sure that you can find a way to make use of it in your own fashion...
Take a walk and think about it.
The people who live here are doing their best under very hard circumstances.
If you say so, Grace.
But is their best really good enough?
Do they love you?
Grace had already thought for a long time.
She had known that if she were not shot when the gangsters arrived
she would be faced with her father's suggestion that she return, to become
a conspirator with him and his gang of thugs and felons and she did not need any walk
to reconsider her response to that,
even though the difference betwen the people she knew back home and the people she'd met in Dogville had proven
somewhat slighter than she'd expected.
Grace looked at the gooseberry bushes so fragiles in the smooth darkness.
It was good to know that if you did not treat them ill,
they would be there, come sping as always, and come summer they'd again be bursting
with the quite incomprehensible quantity of berries that were so good in pies,
specially with cinnamon.
Grace looked around at the frightened faces behind the windowpanes
that were following her every step, and felt ashamed of being part of inflicting that fear.
How could she ever hate them for what was at bottom merely their weakness?
She would probably have done things like those that had befallen her
if she'd lived in one of these houses,
to measure them by her own yardstick as her father put it.
Would she not, in all honesty, have done the same as Chuck and Vera and Ben and Mrs. Henson and Tom
and all these people in their houses?
Grace paused.
And while she did, the clouds scattered and let the moonlight through
and Dogville underwent another of little changes of light.
It was as if the light, previously so merciful and faint,
finally refused to cover up for the town any longer.
Suddenly you could no longer imagine a berry that would appear one day on a gooseberry bush,
but only see the thorn that was there right now.
The light now penetrated every unevenness and flaw in the buildings... and in...the people!
And all of a sudden she knew the answer to her question all too well:
If she had acted like them, she could not have defenced a single one of her actions
and could not have condemned them harshly enough.
It was as if her sorrow and pain finally assumed their rightful place.
No, what they had done was not good enough.
And if one had the power to put it to rights, it was one's duty to do so,
for the sake of the other towns, for the sake of humanity,
and not least, for the sake of the human being that was Grace herself.
If I went back and became your daughter again,
when would I be given the power you're talking about?
- Now? - At once!
Why not?
So that would mean that I'd also take on the immediate responsibilities at once.
I'd be a part in the problem solving...
like the problem.. of Dogville.
We can start by shooting a dog and nailing it to a wall.
Over there beneath that lamp, for example. Well, it might help. It sometimes does.
It would only make the town more frightened, but hardly make it a better place.
And it could happen again.
Somebody happening by, revealing their frailty.
That's what I wanna use the power for, if you don't mind.
I wanna make this world a little better.
That damn kid won't shup up. Says he wants to talk to you, Miss.
Can we just shoot him now?
Let me talk to him.
What? What is it?
A man can't really be blamed for being scared now, can he?
- No. That's true. - No!
I'm scared, Grace.
I used you. And I'm sorry.
I am stupid, I am. Maybe even arrogant sometimes.
You are, Tom.
Although using people is not very charming, I think you have to agree
that this specific illustration has surpassed all expectations.
It says so much about being human.
It's been painful, but I think you also have to agree it has been edifying. Wouldn't you say?
Not now, Tom. Not now.
If there is any town in this world would be better without, this is it.
Shoot them and burn down the town.
What? Something else, honey?
There is a family with kids...
do the kids first and make the mother watch.
Tell her you will stop if she can hold back her tears.
I owe her that.
I'm afraid she cries a little too easily.
We'd better get you out of here.
I'm afraid, you've learned far too much already.
Are you cold, Sweetie. Do you need a wrap?
I'm fine.
You want the curtains opened? You don't need them anymore.
What do you think?
I think we should open them. I think it's appropriate.
Bingo, Grace!
I have to tell you, your illustration beat the hell out of mine.
It's frightening, yes, but so clear.
Do you think that I can allow myself to use it as an inspiration in my writing?
Goodbye Tom.
- Somethings you have to do yourself. - Really
That one you're gonna have to explain to me on the way home.
[Narrator] Suddenly there was a noise.
Not so persuasive and powerful as it had been on a rainy night in spring,
but loud enough to work its way through the final sighs of the timber that was rapidly burning out.
It came again. Everyone heard it.
Grace was the first to recognize it.
That's Moses,
That's Moses, she said, and jumped out of the car.
She quickly covered the distance to the dog pen over what, now the buildings were gone, could scarcely be called a street,
and certainly not Elm Street as there wasn't a tree left on Dogville's little mountain ledge,
let alone an elm.
It was Moses.
His survival was astonishing. A miracle.
No, just let him be.
They will have spotted the flames in Georgetown by now.
Some one'll come and find him.
He's just angry because I once took his bone.
Whether Grace left Dogville or on the contrary, Dogville had left her (and the world in general)
is a question of a more artful nature that few would benefit from by asking
and even fewer by providing an answer.
And nor indeed will it be answered here!
DC Sniper 23 Days of Fear
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