Sunspots

grown-ups

When all three generations gather under one roof, it soon becomes clear that there are various conflicts and resentments between them. Suddenly, Santa Claus joins them in the house, pours everyone wine, and announces that he would like to prepare a celebration of joy for them.

Events during and after World War II come to the fore, and it turns out that different members of the family were on opposite sides. The family drama Sunspots thus also addresses the issues of hidden truths, reconciliation, forgiveness and confronting old crimes.

JUDY: Today is Christmas Eve, so I’m exceptionally – I stress, exceptionally – entitled to abstinence. However, only over dinner. And not on an empty stomach. (She pours two glasses, offers one to Gregor and raises the other herself.) To your health, Gregor. I really don’t know why I was afraid of you. (She sits down and drinks. Gregor swiftly empties his glass, sets it aside, moves his chair near hers and leans forward confidentially toward her.)

GREGOR: Two days before the end I knock at the castle gate…

JUDY: You’re goodness itself. Really, goodness itself. (Ruffling his hair.) Why do you look at me like that?

GREGOR: Frieda.

JUDY: Do you miss her very much? (Gregor nods. Judy leans forward and looks him in the eyes.) Oh God! How unhappy you are.

GREGOR: Two days before the end I knock at the castle gate…

JUDY: Don’t you know how to have a conversation?

GREGOR (nodding impatiently): Two days before the end I knock on the castle gate, on the worm-eaten oak doors, and I wait two centuries for them to open.

JUDY (tenderly): Gregor… (She stretches out her hand and strokes his head.)

GREGOR (seizing her hand and standing up): I’m going up to the top, to the tower! Below me lies the whole wide world: the rivers are flowing in the blue light –

JUDY: Gregor, calm down.

GREGOR: I return to the stone-flagged courtyard, lie on the ground, among the skulls, while the wind rolls me over the slippery stones –

JUDY: Gregor!  (Gregor kneels down and buries his head in her lap. He embraces her around the waist.)

JUDY (stroking his head): Go on, just cry. I’d also like to, but I have no one to caress me. Too many people imagine that nothing can run them over. We know it isn’t like that, don’t we?

GREGOR (looking at her): Frieda!

JUDY: All right, I’ll be Frieda. Although I can’t understand why you can’t forget her. They all forget me the next moment. Unless they have something to gain from me. (Stroking Gregor’s head.) Don’t you realize how unusual you are? To have such love, many a woman would let herself be whipped! But perhaps Frieda was an angel. An angel who, with her touch, confused your thoughts, and now you speak godly words –

GREGOR (taking her hand): Frieda!

JUDY: No, Gregor. I am not an angel. I drive men crazy.