"IF I CAN'T BE THE BEST OF THE BEST, AT LEAST I CAN BE THE BEST OF THE WORST."
Ow! Ow!
Fucking hell! Get this thing out of me!
-Push harder, Mrs. Olofsson. -Shut up!
-Ow! Watch the cigarette. -Calm down, Mrs. Olofsson.
God damned idiot kid!
Come the fuck out, you jerk!
They screamed and yelled at me to come out,
and I can't stand being told what to do,
so I stayed in there as long as I could, but I guess it was time.
And I can't stand being locked up, the whole damn world was out there.
Parties, banks, girls, and all sorts of fun.
Let's roll, god damn it.
Freedom!
My very first jailbreak.
It's a boy.
Oh, my boy!
And what a voice!
He's beautiful.
It was obvious that I wasn't just any kid. I was special.
I always have been.
Fucking special.
Sheer power!
Okay, this is my story, from the beginning.
I'm gonna name him Clark.
Like Clark Gable.
Clark Oderth Olofsson.
The whole truth and nothing but the truth.
I promise.
Norrmalmstorg, packed with police cars.
…interview over the phone with Clark Olofsson inside the bank…
You've no doubt heard of me because of the Norrmalmstorg bank robbery.
Go live! Go live!
-But I was dragged into that crap. -Where's Clark?
The whole Stockholm syndrome thing.
Taking hostages, international fame, all that…
It's a drawn-out drama.
I mean, those few days were a blast, but I've done tons of other shit too.
THE END - IT WAS CLARK!
BASED ON TRUTHS AND LIES
But let's take it from the top.
HÄLLSKRIFTS ROAD 4 1952
This is the shit!
-I love this song. -Yeah, me too.
Always the same damn question…
"Clark, can you tell me about your childhood and your parents?"
If I had a penny for every shitty shrink who asked me that question,
I wouldn't have had to rob all those banks.
Ow!
-Did you just hit me with a bottle? -I did.
I fucking love you!
Get on your feet and dance!
Bang.
You're dead.
Look into the camera.
I guess we were like most families. Normal and very loving.
Mostly I kept to myself, and I got on well with the ladies.
I liked them… a lot.
Like I said, pretty normal.
What the fuck is up with you? Fucking idiot neighbors.
-Sten! -Never seen a bathtub before?
-How am I supposed to take a bath now? -Shut up, bitch!
-He's stealing my bike! Stop! -Come back, damn it!
And the ladies… I've always been quick to fall in love.
Full marks, Clark. That's my boy.
It just goes… bing.
I've been in love every day of my life.
I love you.
What's your problem? Snap out of it!
Come on, let's go. Fucking lazy-ass idiots!
Damn it! This isn't a fucking retirement home!
Do you want this?
It's going to cost you a kiss.
On the cheek.
The ladies had a thing for me too.
And I love them, each and every one. All kinds.
Two cigarettes, please.
Making money was never an issue either.
-One cinnamon roll and a beer. -One more?
At 10 years old, I was making more money than Mom and Dad put together.
Money provided me with the only thing I truly cared about.
Freedom.
The right to speak, think, and act however one likes.
Ulla, at my old man's bakery - she was my first.
-Hey, Ulla? -Clark…
I'd been softening her up for some time, and finally she gave in.
Alright, come here.
Ulla… Damn, she was fine.
One hot dog.
I've been in love my whole life.
I've robbed a hell of a lot of banks, partied, had tons of sex.
I never did an honest day's work, and still always had money.
-Ronny, he's taking your moped! -You little brat! Come back here!
I've lived by no one's rules but my own, and I've had a shit load of fun.
Six months of juvenile detention.
I don't give a damn about what people think of me.
This is who I am, and I will never apologize for it.
Four months detention.
Hands off!
Amateur.
The money! Hand it over!
Seven months in prison.
Let's switch!
I'm a self-made man, and I did really well for myself. No regrets.
If I couldn't be the best of the best, at least I could be the best of the worst.
Let's do it again!
-What's wrong with you? -Do it yourself.
-Haven't you rowed before? -Maybe I haven't.
What have you been doing?
-Go that way, you bitch! -Calm down, he's doing what he can.
-Is he really? -He can't help being retarded.
-I'm trying! -Let me help you, here we go. Come here.
-What the hell? -Come on, give it to him good!
This is so boring. We need to get some ladies!
-Ladies out here? -I'm so horny.
You're constantly horny.
And I gotta take a piss.
-Like you could get a girl. -Are you saying you get more girls?
-I know I get more girls. -No way!
-How many do you think I've been with? -Two?
That's one more than you, twice as many.
-Stop it… -Check that place out.
-It looks fancy. Let's go there. -They probably have dogs.
-What's your problem with dogs, Gunnar? -I hate dogs.
-They're unreliable, stupid animals! -Shut up. Gunnar, get us there.
-Come on, Gunnar. Faster! -Move over.
-Step back. -Be my guest.
-Damn… -Never been in a boat before?
-It's not as easy as it looks. -Just watch…
-That's exactly how I did it-- -No, it's not.
Quiet!
-Congrats, you know how to row a boat… -Unlike you.
Son of a bitch.
What the hell is this place?
Come on.
-I really gotta take a piss. -Take it easy!
Look at this place.
They're loaded.
-Morgan? -Sure thing.
-What is this place? -Get out of my way!
-Take it easy, damn it. -Finally, I can go.
Tomatoes.
What do we have here?
Remy Martin, XO. Special!
-What is it, whiskey? -It's cognac! You fucking moron.
Sit down and you might learn something.
-For once. -Alright.
Just a splash for you…
-Hurry up! -What the hell! I'm peeing!
-First you smell it… -Alright.
Well, well. What do we have here?
A sip?
What the hell, huh?
-Fucking moron! - Sorry, I didn't--
-This is the good stuff! -It's cognac! Come on!
Get yourself a glass.
-Brandy? -It's Martin Remy.
-What's that? -The good stuff.
-It's wasted on you. -Yeah.
Well…
-Who lives like this? -An upper-class prick, obviously.
A fucking capitalist pig.
-"Harpsund"? -Come again?
-Harpsund. -It's the name of the place.
Harpsund!
So what?
-Yeah? -Are you completely clueless?
-This is the prime minister's summer home. -No way!
Yes, for sure. It's true.
What are you doing here?
TAGE ERLANDER PRIME MINISTER OF SWEDEN 1946-1969
My cognac…
Just having a taste.
My vegetables…
Run!
-Come on, Gunnar! -Son of a fucking…!
Fucking kids!
-Go to hell, you fucking idiots! -Hey!
-It's security! -The guards! I knew it!
Run for it, Gunnar! You can't panic now!
-Fucking idiots! -Stop right there!
Clark!
Come back here, you sons of bitches!
-Final warning! -This way!
Fucking dogs!
-Ow! -Come on, let's go!
-Gunnar! -Never mind him, let's go!
What the hell!
I got you now, fucker…
What's so funny, you bastard?
Nothing, nothing…
But this will be quite the story to tell.
I see…
-So you know who I am? -Oh yes, but I meant for you.
You can tell the story of when you held Clark Olofsson at gunpoint, and missed.
Clark Olofsson…
Doesn't ring a bell.
No, not yet.
But someday.
Take cover, ladies and gents…
he's about to reload.
The working class, the working class
They are a funny breed
No tails on them…
No cars…
Fucking piece of junk!
What seems to be the problem?
This is for you, pig.
-Fuck me! -Fuck me!
Hello, anybody there? I'd like to speak to Mrs. Olofsson.
-Ingbritt Olofsson. -Oh, very well…
I regret to inform you that your son was killed in a car accident.
What?
-Clark? -Yes, he's at the hospital in Katrineholm.
I'm very sorry.
It wasn't me!
Hiya.
Admit it, you thought I was dead.
Hell no. You're not getting rid of me that easily.
Side-view.
The other side.
Damn, I looked good back then…
Mom thought I was dead, too.
She even brought Dad's finest suit to bury me in.
It was a perfect fit, and came in handy anyway.
As the defendant is not of age,
he is found guilty of assaulting a police officer,
burglary and grand theft, and will be sentenced as a juvenile,
to custody and care for 18 months, to be served immediately.
Ha! Eighteen months? Was that the best they could do?
I am sick of seeing you here in court,
Clark Oderth Olofsson.
Consider this an opportunity to turn your life around.
You bet.
I will stick to the letter of the law, from now on.
I promise.
LÖVSTA YOUTH DETENTION CENTER 1966
CORRECTIONAL FACILITY AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY
NO TRESPASSING AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY
Hiya, Nisse! Vacation's over.
-Clark! You're back? -Olofsson!
About time, we need some fun in here.
-What did you do this time? -Nothing.
You guys know me.
I never broke the law.
I mean, I haven't exactly been a model citizen,
but prison doesn't make you a better person.
But there's no point in moping.
You gotta make the most of the situation.
And the best part of doing time is that there is a clear goal:
Escaping.
Let's see, Olofsson, what are you making?
-A ladder. -Pardon?
A ladder.
Wait a minute. You're not allowed to make a ladder.
I'm kidding. It's a weeder.
Check it out.
-Like this… -Of course, now I see.
Well done, Olofsson.
As you were.
Sundberg!
Alright, let's go!
Come on!
-Karlsson, where did the rest go? -How should I know?
Did you look up your ass?
Here we go.
Come on.
Hop on, gentlemen. Freedom awaits.
Come on, Clark!
Olofsson!
Get down here, on the double!
-Do you hear? -Drop dead, Sundberg.
God damn it, Clark!
NÄSET BEACH 1966
Come on now, dumbasses.
-Where are the girls? -Everywhere.
I love being on the run. Everything just feels better.
Your senses are heightened, everything is clearer,
and the colors become more vivid.
-This works. -Sure.
You filthy bastards!
-Rats of the sky! -Calm down, Gunnar.
Even a bad day on the run, is a good day.
And this particular day, was one hell of a good day.
Give it a go yourself.
Clark!
Where are you going? Clark…
Wait up!
-Where are you going? -Stealing some watches.
Holy fucking shit.
-Look at that. -Yeah…
Shit.
Look at that…
Forget it, Clark, they're way out of your league.
Those girls have got class.
And I'm Clark fucking Olofsson.
-Guys! He's gonna talk to those girls. -Which ones?
Look at those girls.
Her name was Madorie. But she called herself Madou.
She was something from another world. Like an angel.
Good afternoon.
I fell head over heels.
May I be of assistance?
The first love of my life.
You two shouldn't have to…
Whoops!
Nice touch.
I guess you're always on time.
Pardon?
That's right. Never leave them waiting.
Did you go to Harvard?
Yes, Harvard.
That's right. I did. Or, I do.
Please, sit!
Sure, I'd love to.
Oh, excuse me. John Fredrik Svensson.
Named after John Wayne.
-My name is Madou. -Madou…
-Lovely. -This is my mom, Liz.
-Oh, hello. -Hello, Liz.
-Liz… -A pleasure.
Indeed.
So…
My family lives in America.
But… I'm here,
visiting…
some acquaintances.
Acquaintances… Do you mean them?
Yes.
No! They're not… They're way too immature.
I hardly even know them.
We want some too!
All for one and one for all!
You know what, John? I love Harvard.
-Yeah? -It's actually Madou's dad's alma mater.
-You're kidding! -It's true.
Such an excellent university.
It certainly is.
I like it there. It's a great school… university.
Here you go.
-How nice. -There…
-Thank you very much. -You're welcome.
I was wondering…
You wouldn't happen to know of a decent hotel where I could spend the night?
I'm on a getaway, you see.
You know what?
-We actually have a spare room at home. -Really?
It would be an honor to have a Harvard student as our guest.
Well, you know…
How about it?
When will you be going back to America?
I haven't even decided. I take things as they come.
Oh, a Mercedes.
Nice.
-My dad has one just like this. -What does your father do?
This and that. Business and stuff.
Thank you.
I'll get in the back.
What the hell?
Now what do we do?
No worries.
Come on, we're three guys at the beach.
-It'll be fun. -No, it won't.
Madou and her mom, Liz.
Damn, they were fine.
Both of them.
They lived in a huge mansion in Västra Frölunda.
No man in the house.
A castle fit for a queen and a princess.
The only thing missing was a king.
Here we are.
Thanks, John.
-Welcome to our humble abode. -Nice… Really nice.
Here you go.
Really nice.
Thanks!
Cheers, and welcome to our family!
-Cheers. -Cheers!
So, what do we have here…?
That's a familiar smell.
Just kidding.
John, what's your major?
-What now? -At Harvard?
Quite right.
At Harvard? Well…
Oh, you know, various…
I…
Economics.
-Finance and economics. -Oh?
This and that…
Capitalism, and stuff…
Money systems, banks…
The acquisition of…
various currencies and so on.
How exciting.
Oh, it is.
Do you plan to make a career out of it?
Mom, stop interrogating him.
-This isn't the time and the place. -No, that's okay, Madou.
I don't mind talking about it.
Work, work, well, I…
I have a few ideas.
Especially concerning banks.
Focusing on their money, which I believe could be very profitable.
As an investment?
Forex trading?
Stocks? Trust funds?
Don't mind if I do.
Well, more like…
cash management.
You're getting with the times.
Good for you!
Yes, it is.
Indeed.
So, down the hatch.
Damn, that was so good.
Madou!
John!
Hey, are you awake?
What are you doing here?
I couldn't sleep…
Can I jump into bed with you for a while? Just to talk.
No…
Alright, we don't have to talk.
-John… -Yeah?
I have to tell you something…
Yeah?
I've… I've never…
You don't have to worry. I've done it lots of times.
And…
I promise to be gentle.
Promise?
Yes, of course.
Come here…
Let me know if it hurts.
That's it?
Yup.
Pretty sweet, huh?
Did you come too?
I'm not sure.
How can you tell?
I think you came.
John!
Ah, Mommy…
-Ouch! Sorry, my mistake… -Don't call me Mommy.
-Please pass the bread, John. -Of course.
Do you like to travel, John?
Yes. What's not to like?
Here you go.
I like Italy.
This is delicious.
We go there occasionally.
But…
Madou prefers France.
France?
Is that so?
How nice.
Whoops! Hello!
This is yummy!
Much needed after last night.
Cheers.
Sir.
Thank you for having me.
Madou…
Liz…
I'll see you soon.
-I would love to come back. -Yes, as we like to say…
Mi casa, su casa.
Casa-casa!
-Bye-bye! -See you soon.
NYKÖPING JULY 29TH 1966
Liz and Madou… What a fucking package deal.
I loved them both and I was more than happy to fuck Liz.
But I wanted to be Madou's boyfriend so I had to sort myself out.
I'm gonna rob a fucking bank.
Hell yeah…
Sounds like fun.
I'm done with petty crime.
Cars, breaking and entering, moonshine…
Fucking small-time crap.
We gotta think bigger.
Sounds awesome.
Gunnar wasn't exactly Einstein,
but he did what he was told and he was loyal to a fault.
Hold on.
It' gonna be fun.
The only problem was that he was out of his fucking mind.
Check this out.
What the fuck?
How about if we bring this thingamajig?
Yeah…
Where the hell did you get that?
Whatever…
Why do we need sports gear to rob a bank?
We don't need sports gear.
After we rob the bank, we'll need to lay low.
It's just a quick in-and-out. We need a tent, sleeping bags and shit.
What?
We're setting up camp in the woods. Get it?
Oh. Alright.
That's fun!
But why don't you just crash at her place? What's her name, Malou?
No, I can't.
-Her name is not Malou. -It is.
This is the place. You keep a lookout.
BOBERGS SPORTING GOODS & BICYCLES
-Everything clear? Gunnar? -Yeah, all clear.
Fucking dogs…
Easy, now.
There!
I'm in.
You should give this one to Milou. As a gift.
I don't think that's her style.
Girls love presents.
It'll cheer her up, maybe even make her horny.
She has enough hats.
-And her name's not Milou. -I think it is.
Make yourself useful.
Alright.
Piece of fucking cake.
-Are you sure she doesn't want the hat? -Huh?
Then you can bang her after.
Maybe you'll get some butt sex.
Gunnar.
What the hell is he doing here?
Evening, boys.
Evening.
What do you have there?
Well… We're going camping.
Right.
Let bygones be bygones, huh?
You go on your merry way and we'll go on ours.
You know that's not how it works.
Come on, it's just camping gear.
Let's see, two sleeping bags and…
a tent, portable kitchen…
And a hockey helmet.
POLICE
I can put it back, if it makes any difference.
-It's tight like a nun's pussy anyway… -Shut up, Gunnar.
Guys, listen…
Heck, Ragnar. I recognize him.
The guy with the nun's pussy.
I mean, you could argue forever about what really happened that night.
My oh my… It's babyface Gunnar Nordgren.
And why Gunnar did what he did.
-Who's he? -You know… The dog guy.
But why the hell bother?
Dog boy!
It still won't change what happened.
Guys…
Gunnar!
What the fuck, Gunnar?
Fuck…
You fucking idiot.
We gotta go.
Come on!
Nyköping PD, lieutenant Tommy Lindström.
There he is. Officer Tommy Lindström.
He became obsessed with me from the moment he first heard my name.
Clark Olofsson…
It became a lifelong obsession.
Clark!
Where is he? Where's Clark?
Where is Clark? Clark!
Son of a bitch!
This was the beginning of a life-long journey,
for good old Tommy Pony… and me.
Ragnar!
Oh no, stay calm.
You'll make it.
We need help!
-Lennart… -Hang in there, Ragnar. Hang in there.
God damn it! We need help! Somebody call an ambulance!
The cop stayed alive for a few days and then he died,
so we ended up on the front page of every goddamn paper in Sweden.
I always knew I'd be famous, but not for something stupid like this.
THE COP KILLERS
Cop killer…
It wasn't even me who shot him!
Alright fellas, you know the stakes.
We have a man down.
Let's get those fucking cop killers.
-Move out! -Affirmative.
Unit 1, toward the lake.
Unit 2, come with me.
K-9 units 2 and 3, westbound. Andersson, check the knoll.
OK, fellas. Let's get that son of a bitch.
Clark, where are we going?
Clark!
-Huh? -Where the hell are we going?
You're on your own.
-It's every man for himself now, Gunnar. -What?
Alright…
Good luck, Gunnar!
Clark!
God damn it…
I wasn't to blame for any of this.
Not that I cared about the cop,
but I did care about what Madou would say, now that she'd find out who I really was.
That's John…
So much for your Harvard hubby.
THE COP KILLERS
Seventy officers enter their fifth day in the hunt for Clark Olofsson…
Let's go, fellas!
Olofsson was spotted having a coffee…
The manhunt continues--
Approaching Storsjön, over.
You gotta be on your toes when you're on the run.
Gunnar Nordgren?
You have to stay calm and levelheaded.
Stop right there!
Especially when the whole country is looking for you.
God damn it, Gunnar!
Officer Mathiasson told us that he saw you open fire.
Yeah, but I wasn't the one who…
did it.
Speak up! Did what?
-I didn't come up with all of this. -Then who did?
Clark.
What's that?
Clark Olofsson.
TELEPHONE
We would very much like to talk to Clark Olofsson,
but he's still nowhere to be found.
-I know his girlfriend's name. -Really?
What's her name?
-Liz Britmer speaking. -Hi. I'd like to speak to Madou.
-Malou. -OK…
Or maybe…
-No? -No, it's Milou?
-Milou? -So which one is it?
Malou or Milou?
-May I ask who's calling? -It's Clark.
-I mean, John. -I see. He who vanished into thin air.
Yes… No… But…
I didn't kill a cop.
-Surely you don't think that? -I actually don't know what to think.
You know I'm not like that. You know me.
-I wish I could help you, Clark. -Liz…
-I really do, but-- -I miss you.
-Sweetie… -Is Madou there?
Can I speak with her?
No. This is a terrible idea.
Damn it.
For fuck's sake, Gunnar!
Malin.
You're sure?
-No. -No?
Well, thanks for nothing.
I know where she lives.
Damn, that's a big house.
Hey, Tommy, us posing as joggers, is it really going to work?
Yes, damn it.
We're undercover now.
You think he's stupid enough to come here?
He has to assume that we know about her.
Something's happening.
Let's wait and see just how stupid he is.
She's left the house, get ready. Over and out.
Roger that. Over and out.
Where the hell are you going, Little Miss Carrot Top?
Get down, damn it!
That was close.
-Good thing we're undercover. -Yeah.
-Madou! -No! What are you doing?
-It's me. -John?
I had to see you so I can explain. It's not what you think…
-You lied to me! -I know.
I'm sorry, forgive me.
I thought I had to be somebody else to be with you.
What do you mean?
I didn't think you would care about me if I didn't have money and all that.
Why would someone like you care about someone like me?
I didn't shoot no cop.
I didn't do it. I swear.
You know I would never do something like that.
Would these hands,
having touched something as beautiful as you,
be capable of something so horrible?
-I don't know what to say… -You don't have to say anything.
Fucking joggers…
I just wanted to speak with you.
And to explain.
I understand if you never want to see me again.
But… I just wanted you to know that…
I love you.
Well, that's all I wanted to say…
Wait.
Clark…
Before you say anything, I have a little something for you.
It's beautiful.
You know, my mother has one just like it.
John!
Right. Well…
Here you go…
I've been so worried for you.
Mom too. I think she cares about you.
I care about her too.
I care about you both…
a great deal.
I thought maybe the three of us could…
What?
I don't know, I got this weird feeling--
-Son of a bitch! -Stop it!
-Get off me! -Claesson! I've got him!
-The hell you do! -Clark!
Son of a bitch!
-Let me go! -Never! I'm innocent!
-No, you're not! -Leave him alone!
Fucking cop!
Claesson!
Clark, no!
Don't!
-God damn it, Claesson! Hurry! -Clark!
-Olofsson! Back down! -No!
Clark!
We are now bearing witness to the young delinquent, Clark Olofsson…
So, now you know how it all begun.
My career had gotten off to a fast start and my notoriety had become nationwide.
He is being transferred from jail to Svea Court,
where he will receive his verdict.
They got me on a couple of counts, the break-in, the gunshot in the woods…
But I was acquitted of killing the cop.
My sweet Clark!
I wasn't to blame.
I was a… superstar. And Mom was so proud.
I always knew you would amount to something!
And Madou and I were deeply in love.
I was going to prison,
but strangely enough I'd never felt so free.
And soon, I'd be free again.
I had no time to waste sitting behind bars.
BASED ON "VAFAN VAR DET SOM HÄNDE?" I-III BY CLARK OLOFSSON
Subtitle translation by Erik Lindberg