[somber classical piano music]
[Helen voiceover] Nietzsche famously said that
without music, life would be a mistake.
German philosophers tend to exaggerate.
But he did have a point.
I know that without music
my own life would've been
incomplete in some fundamental way.
Like if I'd had no friends
I even tried to be a pianist for a while
until I realized just how fragile
piano playing really is.
Especially in front of 2,000 people.
[Helen voiceover] The most difficult thing
is to leave your fingers alone,
to just play and not think,
never open that door,
otherwise you won't be making music for long.
You'll be running for dear life.
[audience applauds]
[Henry sighs]
[Henry breathes heavily]
Fuck.
I'm fine.
Can I have...
[security over intercom] Security to the front entrance.
[door opens]
[door closes]
Henry?
Henry.
Just having a smoke.
You don't smoke.
You got the heebie-jeebies?
Do you realize how reckless it is
to play in front of an audience?
It's why they come, you know.
Like those cliff divers I saw the other day on TV.
People enjoy the show but really
it's the looming disaster that makes it special.
May I?
[audience clapping rhythmically]
Do you hear that?
[train chugging along]
[Helen voiceover] Some pianists are cerebral,
others sentimental.
Henry Cole is an existential pianist.
He plays with his whole life.
[Helen voiceover] Of course, being existential about anything
can be complicated.
[fast-paced classical piano music]
[Paul] Henry. Henry, relax, it's just a few reporters.
[male reporter] What made you decide to play again?
[Henry] Playing is my life.
[male reporter] Happy with your performance?
How'd it feel to give a recital again
after all of these years?
Like a trip to the moon.
[female reporter] Why didn't you give an encore?
[camera clicks]
-[Henry] Uh... -[Helen whispers] Sorry.
...I like...
-[Helen] Sorry. -[Henry] I like clean breaks...
the way...
the ocean...
abruptly ends between your feet,
the edge of a dying wave.
And I couldn't think of anything else to play.
-[all chuckle] -The need to share it, isn't that what drives most musicians?
I think what drives most musicians
is not dissimilar from what drives most people.
And what's that?
People want to be appreciated.
-Indeed. -Why the "Fantasie"?
ls it because it is meant as a cry of despair
after the separation from Clara?
When Schumann was asked what he meant by the piece,
do you know what he said? Nothing.
He just sat down at the piano and played it again.
However, some scientists claim
that we owe the "Fantasie"
as well as numerous other masterpieces
to treponema pallidum.
[male reporter] ls she a composer?
She's the syphilis bacterium.
ls it true you didn't touch a piano for three years--
Thank you very much. That'll be all for today.
Thank you so much for coming this evening.
[reporter] Some say you never even left your room.
-What happened, Mr. Cole? -[woman] Please just one more.
Why would anybody care
if I left my room or not?
Oh, they don't, that was just a kid
trying to get some gossip.
What about you, Paul?
You know what matters to me?
ls that you are here, right where you belong.
Tonight was important, Henry, and you showed an amazing amount of strength.
You were great.
[knocking on the door]
Yes!
Hi.
Sorry about before.
I didn't mean to pry.
I'm Helen Morrison.
I write for The New Yorker.
Music is never about despair.
It's a celebration.
A victory.
And being appreciated is not enough.
Most people want to overcome something.
Were you celebrating a victory tonight?
You're prying again.
Sorry.
I just play the notes.
You had me fooled.
Well, thank you.
I'm sorry, um...
you don't remember me, but...
you changed my life 15 years ago.
I did?
You were giving a masterclass at Julliard
and, um, I had just been cut,
first round of a minor competition.
I lacked the basic talent of...
not shaking.
How unfair.
"What matters most is experience," you said,
"Not performance.
The greatest gift, what truly sets people apart is...
the ability to feel."
I said that?
Yeah, you did.
[chuckles]
You know, there was also this...
Never mind.
Well, it's a long story.
Tell me.
Really?
[gentle classical piano music]
[Helen] I spent a month
in the Upper Engadine Valley
in the Swiss Alps,
just after my competition disaster.
There's a lake there called Silvaplana
where I would take long walks
every day along the shore,
thinking about what you said.
And by the side of the path
there was this boulder.
You know, nothing special, just a... big old rock.
But every day I would walk by it,
and there it was, the same,
just sitting there quietly
as it had been for 1,000 years.
And there was something comforting about that rock,
like a,
reminder of the world outside myself.
I would like to do an article on you.
Ah...
Something comprehensive.
It sounds unpleasant.
I appreciate it, but there is a lot to be said
for staying at the surface of things.
Well, this would be about music mostly.
Your career.
Could I ask for an interview?
When you have time.
Minimal prying, I promise!
It's not a good idea.
And if you'll excuse me,
I am expected somewhere, thank you.
Good night.
[Helen voiceover]Apparently, this rock is where
Nietzsche had his vision of the eternal
recurrence of all things.
The idea that every event and every life
will repeat itself infinitely.
But if I can't recall having been here before,
what difference does it make?
Unless he meant something else,
like fate.
Or simply that life is a challenge.
[gentle classical piano music]
[birds chirping]
[elevator dings]
[key clangs]
[bellman] If there is anything you need,
please don't hesitate.
My name is Felix.
Thank you.
In the folder there is a map of
all the hiking trails in the region.
I highly recommend the experience.
I'll make a note of it.
[gentle classical piano music]
[Henry breathes deeply]
These just arrived for you, sir.
Ah.
Thank you.
Lovely.
[Paul] How's the man this morning?
You look like the cat that got the cream.
-Have you seen the papers? -Nope.
"A trip to the moon."
"The bewitching return
of Britain's grand master of the keyboard."
I've been on the phone all morning.
Everyone is asking for interviews, including the BBC.
And they're gonna run an hour long special
before the London concert.
It is everywhere
on social media.
And the whole world
will be able to watch your recital
live on the internet, Henry.
You're really reaching out to the younger crowd.
Well, I like that. That makes me happy.
-Mm-hmm. -Um...
anything from The New Yorker?
No, nothing so far.
Oh, those are nice flowers.
Did you know that some of the loveliest flowers
mimic the smell of fecal matter,
so as to attract dung insects?
Why not attract other insects?
[chuckles]
I got to go. I got to meet the guy at DDl Classics.
Now, I'll see you later this afternoon, around two.
Oh, and, uh, don't forget you have to try out that new Steinway tonight.
-Oh, I know, I know. -Yeah.
Paul?
Yes, Henry.
No reporters tonight,
right?
Right. No reporters. Just a manager and a technician.
Here.
Read for yourself.
[cellphone ringing]
[Paul] Yeah, hello.
Yeah, Paul.
[woman] Sorry to disturb you, Mr Cole.
Could I ask for your autograph?
I was at the concert last night.
Magnificent!
I drove all the way from Boston.
Oh, you didn't have to drive all that way.
I'll be playing in Boston a week from now.
-I know. I'm taking my son. -Ah.
Well, that automatically qualifies you for an autograph.
-What's your name? -Maya. But it's not for me, it's for my son.
-Daniel. -Uh-uh.
-How old is he? -12.
Music is everything to him.
I mean, it's all he cares about.
Tell you what,
bring him backstage after the recital next week.
-I'll sign it for him then. -Really?
He has a poster of you in his room, you know.
-A poster. -Yeah.
-I hope it doesn't give him nightmares. -[chuckles]
You should put those in water.
Yes, I should.
-Maya... -Yes.
Did you really enjoy the recital?
Of course!
-Thank you. -Thank you.
[gentle classical piano music]
[water sloshing]
[Paul sighs]
[door squeaks]
[Henry sighs]
[insects chirping]
[gentle classical piano music]
[door creeks open]
[audience applauding]
[audience whispering indistinctly]
[Henry gasps]
[bell tolling]
[cars swooshing]
[police sirens wailing]
[cars beeping]
[man] You play the piano?
Yes, a little bit.
You?
Yeah.
Mostly by ear.
I can pick up pretty much any tune.
I've got a soft spot for the oldies, though.
-So do I. -Mm.
I like classical too,
but I find some pieces are a little long.
Ain't that the truth.
Have a good evening.
You too.
[phone beeping in the distance]
[Helen] Do you like flowers, Mr. Cole?
I like all quiet forms of life.
Fish?
Them too.
[gentle classical piano music]
I'm sorry, I haven't eaten all day.
I'm a little surprised to see you here.
I was in the neighborhood.
Actually, my friend told me you would be here.
Ah.
Did you like my flowers?
I did, thank you.
You didn't write a review.
I'm working on something else.
What?
You have something here.
No the other side.
May I?
Gone.
[man] We made all the adjustments. I think you'll be pleased.
Thank you.
Ah, let's see.
[Helen voiceover] The mind is where it all happens.
It's best not to wander in there too long.
You never know when it's going to turn on you.
Move over a little, will you?
[Helen coughs]
["Carmen Habanera" by Georges Bizet]
[crowd chuckles and applauds]
[whispers] Do you still want that interview?
[metronome ticking]
[somber classical piano music]
[knocking on door]
[Paul] London concert, sold out.
They're even putting extra seats on the stage,
-including one for the Prime Minister. -Come on through.
Sit down, Paul.
It's not going away.
It's not going away!
[stutters] what's not going away?
That thing the--
That happened to me during the Beethoven.
Oh, you know what I remember
from that evening,
is like just what everyone else remembers,
was that you played marvelously.
Despite the enormous pressure
of a long-awaited return.
-And not only that-- -No!
Yesterday I froze in front a dozen people,
for God's sake!
I'm sorry.
Oh, no, no, no.
Helen saved me.
-Helen? -Morrison, the journalist.
I couldn't play.
She saw something was wrong
and she bailed me out.
How?
She sat down beside me
and we played together.
What's wrong with me, Paul?
I know this is difficult for you.
And it feels real.
And, and, and of course
it is, but...
We all have that voice inside our head.
I mean, I hear it every day,
that little neurotic bugbear,
"What if?
What if I forget?
What if I miss the shot?
What if I suddenly turn the steering wheel?"
That's not reality.
You were born with a gift, Henry.
And you have dedicated your entire life to it.
And it has been tested
and approved
and unanimously praised.
I mean, you've played enough scales
and arpeggios and trills
to circle the earth 10 times.
I mean, your whole freaking brain is wired to make music.
Believe me, it would take a massive amount of work
to derail all that.
And that is the truth.
So, the next time,
you start imagining things,
I mean, if there is a next time,
you just take a deep breath,
[Paul inhales deeply]
you remember who you are
and you tell that bugbear to fuck off!
[dramatic classical piano music]
-[door closes] -[music quietens]
Carol, it's me.
I need Helen Morrison's phone number.
[crow cawing]
Hi.
-Sorry. -Oh.
Hello there.
Am I interrupting?
I, I was,
just complimenting him on his excellent posture.
Actually,
he reminds me of my first piano teacher,
Mrs. Groffus.
[Helen] What is it with gorillas?
[Henry] I don't know.
They seem upset about something.
[Helen] Maybe about being gorillas.
[Henry] The curse of self-knowledge.
Or maybe they're afraid of death, they're endangered.
Or perhaps they just don't like being watched.
I can't tell you how grateful I am,
Sir Henry.
No, please.
Just Henry.
Okay, Henry.
I can't even remember my last interview.
I remember mine.
He had a heart attack the next day.
Well, you do ask difficult questions.
[Helen laughs]
Music is a dangerous business.
People don't realize.
I knew this Spanish singer once,
great mezzo.
She was playing Carmen
And in the final scene,
as she gasped as Don Jose stabbed her,
a wasp flew into her mouth and stung her.
She collapsed,
went into anaphylactic shock.
No.
Nobody really knew that she was dead
until the third curtain call.
[Helen laughs]
Do you ever think what your life would've
been had you done something else?
It wouldn't have been my life.
It must be a great feeling
knowing that there's nothing arbitrary
about what you do.
Now, I have a friend like that.
He's also a pianist.
He's unique.
Being unique,
is a desirable attribute for stamps or landscapes.
In a pianist,
it usually spells trouble.
No one plays like you, Henry.
Well, thank you, Ms. Morrison.
It's kind of you to say.
[Henry] The pianist's duty is to serve.
His personal contribution
belongs to the realm of small differences.
That Beethoven walked the face of the earth,
now that's something.
The, um,
the verse on your car,
where did you find it?
[gentle piano music]
In your book.
It has been out of print for years.
Do you still write?
Henry?
Mm?
You just seemed far away for a second.
-I did? -Yeah.
I'm sorry.
What did you say?
[Helen voiceover] Success often conceals a flaw,
a wound,
some deep-seated doubt.
It might be forgotten for a while,
but it's always there,
operating in the background,
lurking behind the mask.
[Henry grunting]
Are you sure you're allowed to do this?
What about your hands? What if you fall?
Falling has to be learned at an early age.
And if you're a pianist,
the left side of the face is best.
Oh.
Thank you.
Usually I wear cycling tights.
I bet you look sexy in them.
I like to think so.
Thank you.
Henry.
[camera clicks]
All right, lead the way.
Okay.
[Henry] I'm still a little shaky.
[trees rustling]
Do you ever get lonely up there in your world?
German composers are good company.
Right.
I couldn't have survived my teenage years
without Schumann.
I depended on him.
I felt...
he understood me more than anyone.
And now of course, not a day goes by without
it's bless by Bach or Beethoven.
I did have somebody.
Prague in spring.
It's,
it's a delightful place.
The sounds, fragrances, the light...
[fast-paced classical piano music]
sparkles with energy.
And everywhere you go, music.
Elizabeth was radiant that day.
We must have walked
nearly five miles
through the Mala Strana and the old town,
talking and talking and talking
about music and our life together.
How we were grateful, both of us
for being there.
And, uh, we made plans.
We decided we would spend more time
in our little farmhouse in the south of France.
And the next morning she was gone.
I've never felt anything so cold.
That's how people die...
while someone else is eating or opening a window.
Or,
while their companion is dreaming at their side.
It's one thing you can say about dead composers,
they don't suddenly disappear on you.
Oh, God, I must get back.
[Henry coughs]
Um, please...
do you mind?
I, um...
[melancholic piano music]
[radio DJ chattering]
[pills shaking]
[car beeps]
[dramatic classical piano music]
-[music stops] -[car honking]
[driver] Symphony Hall, sir.
Keep driving.
Just drive.
[gentle classical piano music]
[dramatic classical piano music]
[Henry stops playing abruptly]
-[Henry breathes deeply] -[audience whispering]
[dramatic classical piano music]
Henry, you just had a little memory slip.
You know, it happens to everyone.
Paul, we both know I didn't forget.
It's just music, it's not the 10 Commandments.
How about you use a score for the second half.
Richter did it.
Slightest nudge that's all it takes.
[sighs]
[knock on door]
[Paul] Not now, please.
-10 minutes, sir. -[Paul] Thank you.
Paul, I'm not going out there again.
Okay.
Okay, you don't have to.
Okay.
[gentle piano music]
I want you to lie down here.
Close your eyes
and just try to relax.
[Paul inhales deeply]
Don't think about anything just
[inhales] breathe.
Focus on that, okay?
And, uh, I'll go find the promoter,
we'll see what we can do.
[Henry sighs]
[Henry exhales]
[Paul sighs]
Helen, there you are, finally.
I'm sorry. They kept us waiting for like 30 minutes at the gate.
-How's it going? -Not good.
He doesn't want to continue.
-You have to talk to him. -What happened?
[sighs] Everything was fine. Everything was good
and out of nowhere he botched the coda.
He's in there.
Please go and see him.
He needs you.
-I'll try but-- -Thanks.
You have five minutes.
Helen!
What are you doing here?
I was in the neighborhood.
[Helen] I'm happy to see you.
I heard you had a little hiccup.
I don't know what's happening to me.
I...
I can't keep up.
It's, it's like I am
paddling at the top of a waterfall.
I'm so sorry.
[Henry sighs]
I feel...
exposed.
Scared.
[gentle classical piano music]
You're scared.
Okay.
I don't think you should run from it.
All these people, Henry,
you make them happy, you know?
That's why they come to hear you play.
So, just play,
Henry.
Play for them.
[dramatic classical piano music]
[audience applauding]
[Helen voiceover] On the flight over I sat by the window
brooding, as usual, over the wiring, the hydraulics
and all those sheets of metal stitched together
thinking that flying required a continuous miracle.
But flying is what a plane does of course.
The real miracle is that I can still torment myself like this.
Sometimes you just have to let it fly.
You deserve these more than I do.
Helen...
thank you.
[knocking on door]
Yes?
Oh, hello there.
You must be Daniel.
I'm, I'm glad to see you. Come on in.
Daniel, this is Helen.
And, uh, this is Daniel's mother, Maya.
So, your mother tells me
that you are quite a music lover.
Do you play?
I want to be like you.
Is that right?
Well, thank you.
You've just made my day.
Do you play these?
I find them awfully difficult.
I can play the second one.
A little bit.
Really?
I would love to hear you play.
Mrs. Walker says I'm not allowed.
Is she your piano teacher?
I think that Mrs. Walker
would be happy to make an exception for tonight.
Come with me.
One minute.
Some pianists think that walking on stage
is the scariest part of the evening
and they're right.
Okay.
Come.
Uh...
before sitting down a pianist must smile
and bow,
but modestly because
he hasn't earned it yet.
Good.
Take a seat.
[gentle classical piano music]
[chatting indistinctly]
-[Helen] What do you think? -[Henry] Pretty.
For me?
[water sloshing]
You smell like chlorine.
It's common for people of my age.
I'm sorry, tell me your name again.
I'm Jessie.
Ah, I'm Henry.
How do you keep such good concentration, Jessie?
[Jessie chuckles]
[camera clicks]
[photographer] A smile, Sir Henry, please.
Why don't we just use a Kandinsky
or Frank Stella.
Perfect.
No, the other hand was good, on top.
The other one can be on it, though.
Other way round.
[Henry pushes piano key]
Thank you.
And if you could look at us. Please.
No, I think I, I like him
being like that, it's nice.
[camera clicks]
All right.
Jessie...
[whispers] come.
Come.
What's he doing?
[siren wailing]
[jazzy piano music]
[crowd chattering indistinctly]
There's a signed picture of Eisenhower in the bathroom.
He was a musical president.
-Really? -Mm-hmm.
What makes you write, Helen?
You said the ability to feel is what matters.
I agree.
But unless I put words to those feelings,
I don't exactly know what they mean.
What they are.
So writing, I guess,
it helps me understand myself...
my life.
How's that working out?
I still have more writing to do.
[both laugh]
This place used to be called the 341 Club.
Every week, for one hour, the stage belonged to
a young graduate student of mathematics
with a gift for improvisation.
People used to say that
my father could pluck music out of thin air,
so complete that it was hard to believe
that nobody had ever thought of it before.
His biggest night came
when he was asked to accompany a young singer from Paris.
[singing in French]
They fell in love, he took her back to England,
I was born.
After a few years, I became too much for her.
She wasn't cut out to enter ordinary life.
So, I was sent to boarding school.
My father got a job in New York.
She went with him.
I was left behind.
When I got into high school,
I came back here.
And that first summer
we went to Cape Cod.
There was long walks on the beaches with my parents.
It's strange how...
a single good memory
can sometimes erase years of bad ones.
[chuckles softly]
-[waves crashing gently] -[seagulls squawking]
[Henry breathing deeply]
Baseball.
You know the name of this team?
They're called the Orioles.
I love that name.
I know the Orioles
and the Cardinals and the Cubs.
And all the other critters.
You think you're the only pianist who likes baseball?
Someone told me once,
that whenever Horowitz
was under pressure from his wife, Wanda,
to perform his conjugal duties,
he used to take her to Yankee Stadium. [chuckles]
Where did you hear that?
Oh, from Vladimir himself.
[laughs] No way.
So, how is the article going?
ls it any good?
I don't know, I haven't finished it yet.
Well, I'm really looking forward to it.
And...
You will show it to me, won't you?
I mean, I know that's not customary but, uh...
as it's about me, uh.
Well, that would ruin the surprise,
wouldn't it?
Precisely.
[gentle classical piano music]
I leave for Europe in a few days.
I know.
Come with me?
I mean, if you can.
If...
if you want to.
[whispers] I'd like that.
[gentle classical piano music]
[dog barking]
The classical market is a lot like the wine market.
It survives
by creating the illusion of meaningful diversity.
There will always be the demand
for the opportunity to distinguish oneself
by pretending to see a world
where others see nothing.
Sometimes there really is a world.
[Paul] Well, the fact that you perceive a difference
doesn't necessarily make that difference meaningful.
[laughs] Are you calling me a snob?
[Paul laughs] No! No!
Oh, but seriously. Do we actually need another recording
of "The Goldberg Variations"?
-[Richard] Or another pianist maybe? -[woman laughs]
[Paul] Yeah, exactly.
Sturgeon's law,
90% of everything is crap.
-That's a lot. -Yes!
Did you know you were managed by the enemy, Henry?
So long as he keeps getting me gigs,
I'll let the philistine speak his mind.
[everyone laughs]
Can I give you a hand?
Oh, no, I got it.
Most pianists can't boil an egg.
-Did you know that? -Well, I used to be a pianist,
just so you're warned.
Oh. [laughs]
I can't tell you how much it means
to Henry for you to be here.
It's everything, actually.
After his wife died he barely spoke for two years.
Let alone give recitals
or even go near the piano.
What was she like?
She was beautiful,
graceful, smart.
[gentle classical piano music]
There was something moving about her.
You know, she didn't go out much.
Pretty much depended on him.
That made things difficult.
He couldn't have cared for her more.
He'd constantly look after her.
He played fewer recitals.
Canceled at the last minute,
when, uh,
she didn't feel well.
He did everything he could.
She took her life anyway.
You didn't know?
[Paul scoffs]
I shouldn't be surprised.
Nobody does.
He's still protecting her, I guess.
She had tried it,
once before, actually, when he was on tour.
That's why this time he decided
to take her to Europe with him.
She used his sleeping pills.
The concert in London,
there has never been anything like it.
It will be an exclamation point to his career.
I hope so.
[whispers] Yeah.
-[woman] Merci. -Okay.
This is somewhat experimental.
I got the recipe from an Ian McEwan novel.
Why not? I once learned how to milk a camel from Hemingway.
-[all laugh] -Now that could come in handy with global warming.
You never know [chuckles]
-Paul? -Yes, please.
You know one of the few good things about getting old?
Uh-oh.
[Henry laughs]
[loudly sighs]
You become a pragmatist.
You're not searching for meaning anymore.
You're just searching for words or sleep
or the reason you're staring into an open drawer.
And you're not worried about the future just...
you want the present to last.
The heart and the mind
finally get along.
Anyway.
What I wanted to say was,
I'm so happy to see all of you here.
-Cheers. -Santé.
-[glasses clinking]
Bon Appétit.
[All] Bon Appétit.
-[Paul] Well. Hmm. -Hmm. [chuckles]
-This is interesting. -[Richard laughs]
Oh, yes, I see.
What did you say that novel was about again?
Is there something wrong?
It's just a simple bouillabaisse.
-[Henry chuckles] -Richard?
-[Richard mumbles no] -[Helen] Francine?
It... it's hard to describe.
-[all chuckling] -Fish certainly comes to mind.
And a Wagner.
-[they laugh] -[Francine] Wagner.
-Rienzi. -[they laugh]
-It's that bad? -No, no.
-[they laugh] -It, it, it's just a little difficult to swallow,
the first time around, you know.
-[they laugh] -[Richard blows]
-No, actually, it's terrible. -Oh, it's that bad!
-It's that bad! -[they laugh hysterically]
[gentle classical piano music]
[chuckles] I don't know what happened.
I must have missed a chapter or something.
-What should we do, Henry? -Do you have a camel?
-[they laugh] -Well, monsieur.
I have some tomatoes. I can make a tomato salad.
[gentle classical piano music]
[Helen] I'd really like to come with you to Turin.
A deadline is a deadline.
Plus,
you know, I think it will be good for me
to do one on my own.
And I'm ready. I'm...
Nothing to worry about.
"Sir Henry, recognized by piano aficionados
as a master of sound and nuance,
is widely considered
one of the greatest virtuosi of the 20th century.
Proceeds from the tour will be donated to the Nona Center for Mental Health."
Virtuosi or virtuosos?
I think both are correct.
Oh.
The Nona Center, that your idea?
There's nothing worse than losing your mind.
Do you remember the story I told you about
the Swiss Alps?
Oh, yes.
Something else happened when I was there.
[gentle classical piano music]
I had a boyfriend at the time,
a pianist from Ukraine.
-The unique one. -Right.
He's the reason I went to Switzerland, actually.
Every summer he plays there, just
one concert at a hotel in the Upper Engadine.
People come from all over
just to hear him play Beethoven's last piano sonatas.
He never plays them anywhere else.
-[Henry] Why not? -[Helen] He feels that that place
and that music belong together.
[Henry] That's odd.
[Helen chuckles] I thought so too.
Until I went.
[Henry] And?
I had worked so damn hard for that competition
and I failed
in such a way that...
the dream was over.
I didn't know where to go,
who I was,
where to turn to.
I didn't even know where to begin to look for answers.
But all that was suddenly appeased
by a few wistful bars of absolute tenderness
and understanding.
It was like waking up from a bad dream.
Suddenly, the fog had just lifted.
And that feeling stayed with me for days.
It just opened me up.
Invigorated me.
It's like when I heard you play, Henry.
Well, I could use some invigoration myself.
He's playing there next month.
Let's go together.
You won't regret it.
It will be good for you.
How so?
I don't know, just a feeling.
All right then. I'll see you tomorrow.
Do you have everything you need?
Yes, I've got my toothbrush, my Advil, my lucky socks.
I'm all set.
I am an old man.
What's the matter, you have something against
younger women?
No.
I'll be listening.
I'll be playing for you.
I love you, Henry.
[car engine starts]
[car door closes]
[jaunty classical music]
[gentle classical piano music]
[Helen voiceover]Perhaps what eternal recurrence means
is not that our life will actually repeat itself forever,
but rather that we should not rest content
until we have reached a point
where we love it enough
just as it is,
to wish it were indeed so.
Play it again, I say.
[bird caws]
[stream rushing]
[Henry panting]
[owl hooting]
-[bell ringing] -[Henry breathing deeply]
[people chattering]
[man speaking in German]
[somber classical piano music]
[bird shrieks]
[wind whooshing]
[horse neighing]
[horses clopping by]
Excuse me, sir, there is somebody who wants to talk to you.
He says it's urgent.
Who is it?
Ah.
How did you find me?
I'm your agent.
It's good to see you, Henry.
It's really good to hear your voice.
How are you?
Fate doesn't approve of convertibles.
Did you know that?
Paul...
I won't be needing an agent anymore.
Don't say that. Give yourself some time.
You've always been good to me.
I couldn't have asked for a better agent
or a better friend.
But my time is up.
Henry, Henry, people love you.
Do you have any idea how many letters and emails I answered for you--
You didn't cancel London.
I canceled everything else.
But this one, there's never been anything like it.
I mean, so many people are looking forward to it,
so many young people.
You could dedicate it to her.
Play through the pain,
like, lay it out there.
You'd not only be giving them music,
you'd be giving them courage and hope.
It's over.
Look, I understand. You can stay there as long as you like,
-I'll take care of everything. -Goodbye, Paul.
-Henry? -[phone tone beeping]
[gentle classical piano music]
[sings in a foreign language]
[Helen voiceover]Most people want to overcome something.
Until they don't anymore.
Hopefully, overcoming isn't just a matter of will,
but what life does naturally with time...
if you're lucky.
[gentle classical piano music]
[water splashing]
[door creaks]
[thunder rumbling]
[gentle classical piano music]
[man] One of my favorite poems.
It began as a graffiti, you know.
Goethe scribbled it on the wall of a hunter's cabin.
Some people find it sad.
I think it's rather soothing.
What keeps you awake at night, Felix?
I am the night porter.
Didn't you show me to my room the other day?
Yes, I requested the privilege.
My wife and I used to run a small pension
here in the valley.
Welcoming new guests was what I enjoyed most.
Of course, we never had one quite like yourself.
May I ask what brings you to Sils?
A dear friend...
felt I could use the fresh air.
Well, you must have rounds to finish, Felix.
Can I bring you anything, sir?
No, I'm fine, thank you.
It's always a treat
when an insomniac checks in the hotel.
Hmm. Good night, Felix.
Good night, sir.
[Henry sighs]
[gentle classical piano music]
I love you, Henry.
[water flowing]
[birds tweeting]
[river gushing]
[Henry breathes deeply]
[waterfall rushing]
[birds chirping]
[gentle classical piano music]
My wife loved this piece.
[fast-paced classical piano music]
Your move, I think.
Check.
[whispers in German] Shit.
That's not possible.
My queen.
How did I not see this?
[birds chirping]
There's no shame in conceding, Felix.
You see, at this point
it's like, the reasonable thing to do
is what I would do.
What?
Check.
Huh.
Check.
[Henry sighs]
Oh, no, no, no. [chuckles]
Can't be.
Felix. [laughs] No.
-[clattering] -[Henry thuds]
Are you okay, maestro?
[Henry laughing hysterically]
Yes.
Yes, I'm fine, Felix.
-[Felix laughs] -That was quite some move.
[Henry and Felix laugh]
You dropped me straight to the canvas.
[Henry and Felix laugh]
[Henry sighs]
We never know what's coming, do we?
[Henry sighs]
[gentle classical piano music]
[Helen voiceover]It's been said that over the music
of Beethoven is spread the twilight
of eternal loss and eternal hope.
The same goes for life, I suppose.
Except for the eternal part.
German composers are good company.
[gentle classical piano music]
[birds tweeting]
[water flowing]
[Helen voiceover]It's hard to explain how I felt
as Henry Cole played that night.
What does great music feel like?
Like a form of knowledge, maybe, or even wisdom?
But it isn't wisdom of course,
nor anything else I can put into words.
The best I can do is to say
that it's somehow about
what it feels like to be alive.
That music was filled with grief and longing
and dogged resolve.
And as I listened, I felt suddenly richer,
more compassionate.
And I wanted to share the moment with the whole world.
I guess the word I'm looking for is gratitude.
Gratitude for Schumann, Bach, Beethoven.
Gratitude for Henry Cole
and all those who celebrate the music of life.
[car swooshing]
[jaunty classical piano music]
[audience applauding]
[jaunty classical piano music]
[gentle classical piano music]