"THEY SEE ME AS A MIX BETWEEN PIPPI LONGSTOCKING AND AL CAPONE"
CLARK OLOFSSON
BASED ON TRUTHS AND LIES
Clark, come here.
Clark, listen to me. Here's the deal.
Life is full of disappointments.
So you've just got to man up.
You understand? You just man up and then you handle that shit.
That's right.
You man up and handle it.
You look so cute together, boys.
Shut your mouth, you stupid bitch!
Cranky bastard.
That's the point of the whole goddamn thing. Understand?
Don't listen to her.
Oh, for Christ's sake!
Sten, what the hell?!
- You shut your mouth! - Clark!
- He has to learn to take care of himself.
He's only six!
Yeah, exactly! About fucking time!
What the...?
Clark! Help him, goddamn it! Sten, for fuck's sake!
- Goddamn it! - Jump in and get him out!
Now look what you've done, you stupid goddamn bitch!
Clark!
Please, Sten.
Help him.
Clark? Clark! Clark!
Sten! He's gonna drown!
Clark! Such a good boy.
About fucking time!
Now dive down and get the damn bottle, you little shit!
Sten! No!
- Clark! - I said get the damn bottle!
What the fuck, Sten?!
- Get the bottle! - Clark!
I never listened to my old man's bullshit,
but that's exactly what I remember, and I've thought a lot about it.
Sometimes life is full of disappointments,
and at those times, you have to man up and handle them.
When life is at its best,
you have to be prepared for disappointments.
Oh, Clark...
Uh... Not too fast. Then I'm gonna come.
I must have a fifth sense or something, like this time, for example.
I can always sense when shit is about to hit the fan.
Three, two, one...
Clark Olofsson! Police!
We've got you now!
Come on, Clark!
N-no point resisting. Just give up!
Wait! Hold on a sec.
You're wondering what happened to Maria...
the move to Beirut...
and our new life in the Paris of the Middle East.
Check this out.
BEIRUT, 1972 THE PARIS OF THE MIDDLE EAST
Oh, what the hell?
Shut the fuck up, goddamn it!
People are trying to sleep here, for God's sake!
Shut up!
Clark, what are you doing?
Some damn m-moron is screaming and waking up the entire neighborhood!
Come back to bed, Clark.
- They do that here. - Well, they better stop that shit.
Or else.
No, I can't sleep like this.
- Hello. - As-salamu alaykum.
Alaykum salam.
Hey, buddy, bring the kid some tea!
Okay.
Oh!
These are so good. This orange was very goodly.
Sweet.
- Your tea. - Ah. Tea, here.
Here. This is good tea.
Uh... Th-thank you.
Shukran.
Uh, in Sweden we say, "Cheers, goddamn it!"
Cheers!
- Shisha. - Shisha?
- Care to try? - Thank you.
Try it.
Shisha is dope!
Very good.
- I've got to go and do a business. - A business?
Yes, yes. That's why I'm here.
Okay, okay.
Shukran.
Take care, buddy.
Go shit yourself.
I felt free in Beirut.
It really was paradise,
and there were a lot of promising business opportunities around.
And the oranges were freakin' good.
Much better than in Sweden.
Mr. Osman!
Olofsson!
- I have an appelsin for you. - Oh!
Hello, my friend!
- Good day. - Oh. Yeah. Oh.
- Three. Three. - How are you?
- Mercedes-bile. What do you think? - Yeah, wonderful!
- Europe. Ten of ten. - Yes, yes.
- You have all the money that we agreed on? - Yes, yes.
Not all of it, but I have a portion of it with me, yes.
What the hell, man?!
- Olofsson, please. First, listen to me. - No, no. All the money.
- Olofsson... - Hmm?
Wait for business. Don't give me that face.
I see you found your way to the oranges.
- Yes, yes. - Yes.
- What do you think? - I like them very much.
- It's the best orange I've ever had. Yes. - Yes.
I maybe have a business proposal you will like, my friend.
A very...
- Yes! - Yes.
- You like business? - I like business!
- I am best at business. - Yes, yes.
Business father.
Oh! I am father of the father of business.
- I want to hear more. - Yeah, yeah.
You know, if you...
Honey, where are you?
I'm in here.
There you are.
Look what I got for you.
Try this one.
Listen to this.
I met a guy down here. Osman. A nice guy.
And we have an amazing business idea.
He is the owner of an entire orange plantation.
- Mm-hmm? - And they're cheap as hell.
Almost for free. It's good, right?
- Yeah, delicious! - Yeah.
Much better than in Sweden.
That's exactly what I said. Much better than in Sweden.
Why do all the oranges in Sweden come from...
Israel, or wherever they ship them from?
It's freakin' orange racism! They could just as well come from here.
Cheaper, better and tastier.
Clark Olofsson, the orange importer!
What do you say?
I love this, Clark.
I knew you'd like it.
I think it proves that I have been right about you from day one.
Yeah, it does.
You're no criminal.
You're a smart and driven entrepreneur.
Damn right I am.
And a good person.
Ah...
Yes, you are.
I'm so proud of you, Clark.
It wasn't easy to leave everything behind.
No, I know.
I know.
But a voice inside of me said, "Do it, Maria.
He won't disappoint you."
And I'm so glad that I listened.
And now... now you can live your dream, honey!
You did it, Clark!
You betcha. We did it.
Yes, we did it.
And they lived happily ever after, and all that shit.
Mm.
Now he starts howling again!
Hell no!
Yeah.
Combination!
We will get rich!
Wait for me! Wahoo!
No, wait for me! Whoo! Look at me!
Olofsson!
- Beirut will miss you. - I will not miss Beirut.
It was very, very nice to make business with you, Mr. Clark.
Yes, yes. Same tobacco to you, Mr. Osman. You are a very nice, uh, mister.
You're a very nice mister too.
- Yes, yes, yes. - Yes, yes.
- Yes. Olofsson. - Okay.
- Oh! Yeah. All right. - Olofsson. Yes. Indeed.
- Go shit yourself. - Go shit yourself. Go shit.
Drive safe back to Switzerland.
Never in life!
What a fucking idiot.
You know, I was sick and tired of Beirut.
It was no damn paradise, as it said in the papers.
And I'd had enough,
so I decided to drive the goods myself, all the way home to Swede-land.
Out of the way!
WELCOME TO TURKEY - GREECE - YUGOSLAVIA
WELCOME TO HUNGARY - THE USSR POLAND - GERMANY
The export and import parts were done.
Now I just needed someone I could trust to distribute the goods.
I knew just who to talk to.
My old buddy, Kurre the Fox.
No way! Slark Olofsson!
What's in the bag?
Come in.
- Oh, Slark. - Damn, it stinks in here.
Kurre the Fox,
owner of Sweden's largest porn collection, who knew every single dealer in town.
The right man for the job.
Damn. Great pretzels.
- Ooh! - Look at that cock.
And now, let's booze it up.
Cheers, you freakin' idiot.
Oh! Mm.
I've got something for you, Kurre.
- Huh? - Check this out.
No! Hell no! I hate fruit.
I don't think you'll hate...
this one.
No, that stuff I don't hate at all.
That is fine, fine stuff.
Black Afghan, straight out of Lebanon.
And I got an entire truckful of that shit parked right outside.
- No... - Yeah.
And if you find the right people, that shit is gonna sell itself.
Well, I know the right people.
So, what do you say?
Partners?
Partners.
Sit.
What the hell is his problem?
The bengan? He doesn't have a problem.
He's staring at me like a freakin' psycho.
No, damn it. Get him away from me.
So, what do we do now?
All right, come on.
- We've got loads to do. - You mean right now?
Yeah, sure thing. Right away.
Hash won't sell itself.
Okay. I'll head out, then.
Oh, so you...
Y-you're tagging along, or...?
Yeah. What did you think? Of course I'm coming with you.
Well, the thing is, you're gonna scare these guys shitless.
Huh?
You are Slark Olofsson. Y-you are world famous in all of Sweden.
Wanted, on the run...
You're way out of their league, you know?
Yeah, you may be right.
Yeah.
But, hey, trust me. I-I'll sell this in no time.
If you trick me, I'll kill you.
B-but... C-come on, Slark, it's...
Do you get it?
Yeah.
I'm just kidding.
- But you better hurry. - Yeah.
Yeah.
Uh... Meanwhile, you take care of Slarken, Bengan.
- What the hell? - Be right back. I'll take care of this.
- Take it easy. - Oh, come on. Shoo. Away.
What the hell are you staring at, you damn pervert?! Huh?
Ah, I lost it, and it's your fault.
Do you have any idea who you're dealing with, huh?
Probably the biggest gangster in the entire history of gangsters.
Huh?
You don't think that I can rob a bank whenever I feel like it?
W-with this, if I wanted to.
Look.
You freakin' idiot.
DON'T DRINK
Ah. I'm not gonna sit around here.
Go shit yourself, you miserable rat!
That's right!
You can believe your eyes. It's me.
And this is a robbery.
Holy shit.
What do you go by, then?
My name is Ingela.
- You're not scared, are you? - Yeah, a little. I've heard about you, so...
Don't believe everything you read... because I'm even better.
Excuse me, young man.
Are you robbing the bank or trying to get laid?
Uh... What?
I have a roast in the oven.
I'm sorry. I got a bit distracted.
And is it really a gun you have there in your pocket?
Well, isn't it freakin' obvious... that I got a gun in my pocket?
This is a robbery.
It's my honor to give you all this unique experience,
something you can tell everybody you meet for the rest of your boring lives.
That you were here, together with Clark Olofsson.
Fill the bag! Empty the drawers! All of them!
And nobody does any stupid shit, or else!
- So, this is what you do? - Huh?
Going around, robbing banks?
Is that a life?
I also smuggle drugs and some other, pettier stuff.
But I mostly rob banks. Is that a problem?
Can you hurry, please? You heard the lady.
She's got a damn roast in the oven.
Thanks a lot.
And now, Ingela, I'll ask you if you want to stay here with these boring people...
...or if you want to come with me for a few hours, escape all this
and live like Clark Olofsson?
- Hmm. - Or else, I'll shoot you.
I'm just kidding. Ma'am.
- What the...? - Go shit yourselves, everybody!
It's Clark!
Champagne. Make it quick.
Come on, all dance lovers!
It's time to capture an angel!
Now, let's have some fun.
It's a classic.
Dance the night away!
Ooh! Ah!
Feel the beat!
This will be a night to remember.
Come on, Clark!
Hi there. Get out.
- Hey, what the...? I'm still peeing! - Get out. Come on.
Damn idiot! I was still peeing.
Here we go.
- Stupid. - I freakin' love you.
Come on, bank robber. Give me some Clark.
Oh, here he is.
There.
- That was nice. - Are you already done?
Yes, indeed. You're dealing with a pro.
How has the evening been so far?
It's been fantastic.
I think I know how we can make it even more fantastic.
Come on.
KIDS? IN DUE TIME. ARE YOU USING A CONDOM?
PUBLIC BATHING
Look at this. This is gonna be fun.
Ladies first.
You're crazy.
- Last one in is a turd! - No!
Yee-haw!
So, this is how we ended up here.
Just as my old man said, you just have to man up
and handle your problems.
And you know what will happen next.
Police!
Take it easy, Clark!
Come on, give up! You can't escape!
Clark!
Prison-break, passport forgery, bank robbery.
Six years in prison.
- Welcome back, Clark. - Have we been given new pants, Söderström?
- Yeah, just for you. - Damn, they're comfy.
I'm glad you like them.
So, locked up again.
Kind of nice.
There's no place like home.
Come on.
But, of course, I had to call Maria.
- Just shut up. - Watch it!
Shut up, damn it!
- What do you mean, "shut up"? - No. Sorry. It wasn't for you.
I was just... uh...
I don't understand what you're thinking, Clark.
You told me you were done!
I told everybody that you had stopped, and I... I got everyone to believe me too.
Yeah. I-I know. It's terrible.
I'm sorry. It was really, really stupid.
You're wanted, and the first thing you do when you get to Sweden is to rob a bank!
Yeah, but I didn't mean to get caught.
You're focusing on the details. Try to see the bigger picture.
Uh... I love you.
Y-you can trust me, Maria.
- Can I, Clark? - Yeah, of course you can.
You're the love of my life.
We'll see.
I have to go. I have to try and figure out a way to get back home to Sweden.
- I'm hanging up. Goodbye, Clark. - Wh...? Maria?
That went pretty well, if you ask me.
But, hell, six years is a long time and prison can be a rough place.
And it was even worse for me, a celebrity criminal.
That kind of thing rubs the other inmates the wrong way,
so it's important to never let your guard down.
Hi, fellas. Ludo, that's fun.
Scoot over. I want to play too.
I'm sorry, kid. Ludo has a maximum of four players.
Sometimes you got to put your foot down
to show them who's boss.
Ah, come on, damn it. I want to join in. Don't you know who I am?
Huh?
Yes, you're Clark Olofsson.
Yeah.
But there are only four colors in this game.
Ain't that right, guys?
But before we do this,
I'd like to ask you all to put your hands in your pants
and see if there's a goddamn cock there,
because, to me, you look like a bunch of pussies!
Come on, then, you damn Finnish freaks!
Damn it! All I wanted was some love and to play some ludo.
Hold on to your hats! Hi-yah!
Hwah!
Janne Olsson.
Pleasure to meet you.
I said, hello there, Olofsson.
Janne Olsson is my name.
Oh. Hi there.
Suddenly, there he was.
The chicken thief Janne Olsson,
who would soon change my entire life.
Freakin' unbelievable.
Damn, what an honor to meet you.
Uh, yeah, all right.
A goddamn pleasure.
- Take a seat. - Thank you. Thank you.
- What are you in for? - Ah, all kinds of devilry, you know?
Yeah?
Janne dreamt of becoming a celebrity criminal just like me,
a life in the fast lane.
He wanted to learn everything he could from me and hear my stories over and over.
Goddamn, that's cool!
Like a child wanting to hear the same bedtime story a thousand times.
Come on, Clark.
Can't you tell it again? Please?
No.
Okay.
So, you dress up like an Arab, and then you walk into the bank.
Then you yell a cool slogan like, uh,
"Hold onto your hats!"
And then you shoot the employees...
- And then... - No, no, no, no, no.
You don't shoot the employees.
You need them as hostages, right?
In order to force the bigshots to give you money
and everything else you need.
And a fast getaway car.
- Ford Mustang, blue. Good-looking car. - Blue, yeah.
They'll do everything you ask of them.
And, hey...
"Let the party begin."
That sounds cooler.
You can't say, "Hold onto your hats."
"Let the party begin."
- Damn. You're a genius, Clark. - Mm.
- Let the party begin! - There you have it.
Yeah. There I fucking have it.
The chicken thief was so impressed by me that he did whatever I asked him to do.
He had a lot of day releases,
so I used him to get stuff I needed for my next escape.
You ordered some dynamite?
I'll be damned!
Damn, that's great, Janne.
Next furlough, Clark,
it's fire in the fucking hole.
Yeah, we'll do it.
Let the party begin.
Yeah.
Don't you dare break down on me!
What the hell is wrong now?
Damn shitty car!
Come on. Work with me, damn it.
Yeah, that's it. That's it. Yeah, downhill. Fucking aces.
I'm coming, Clarky boy!
Damn it, Janne.
KALMAR PRISON 6TH AUGUST, 1973
Everything was planned in detail and prepared according to my genius plan.
The chicken thief stole a discreet car and disguised himself
so that nobody would suspect a thing.
And, of course, the dynamite,
a classic when it came to jail-breaks.
Nothing could go wrong.
It was an amazing plan, if it weren't for Janne's damn...
...Janne's damn shitty dynamite that didn't even work!
- Come on, Clark! - Goddamn it!
What kind of shit dynamite is this?!
What the hell?! There's nothing wrong with the dynamite!
R-really?
It didn't do a goddamn thing!
Maybe because you don't know how to use it!
Hey, hey, hey! Of course I know how to use it!
Janne, that stupid fool.
You gave me a freakin' measly firecracker!
If that idiot hadn't messed everything up
with his crap dynamite and horseplay, this story would have been very different.
Everything would have been different...
Don't you worry, Clark!
I'll get you out.
...and this TV series wouldn't have existed.
- I'll think of something. - You damn chicken thief!
I promise!
Goddamn it.
Remember, let the party begin!
Anyway, Maria had managed to get back to Sweden
and, hell, she wasn't happy.
- I want to break up. - What?
I had to do some damage control.
N-n-no... No, you don't. W-what do you mean?
We've had the same fight so many times now.
Always the same damn fight about the same goddamn things.
All couples fight.
That's normal in a relationship with as much emotion as ours.
No normal couples fight about the things we fight about.
I promise you that.
I wish with all my heart that we could have a normal fight.
We can fight about something normal if you want.
You used dynamite!
Somebody could have gotten hurt!
"Somebody could have gotten hurt"?
Yes!
Come on. What about me? I could have died, Maria.
Janne's crappy dynamite didn't work. It was super dangerous.
- I tried to escape for your sake. - Stop it, Clark.
- You're not listening to me. - I am.
I can't take this anymore.
You can handle anything, Maria. You're strong.
That's why you and I are together.
Clark, I mean it.
I'm leaving you.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no. Damn it. Don't do this.
☻I know that I messed up a bit,
but...
Come on, you know this damn society has never given me an honest chance!
I know.
And I thought that I could help you.
Yeah.
Bring out the good in you, but that's totally freakin' impossible.
You can do it. You can do it, Maria. Don't give up on me.
If you abandon me now,
I don't know what I will do.
You are all that I have.
You're my hope, baby. Don't take away my hope.
You have so much to give.
Because people listen when you speak.
You inspire them.
Imagine...
the things that you could accomplish if you just tried.
You could become a role model.
A national hero.
I...
I want to be a national hero.
It doesn't seem that way.
Yes, damn it!
You'll see. I'll, uh... I'll prove it to you somehow.
Tell me how.
You will see. You'll see. I promise.
You will see, honey.
"Honey"?
Hey.
Clark, it's me.
Ingela.
- Hi. - Hi.
Who was she, the one who left?
- Huh? - The one that left?
It was, um... Never mind. It's great to see you.
Mm.
Hey... Mm.
I have something wonderful to tell you.
- Are you ready? - I'm ready.
- I'm pregnant. - Pardon?
I'm pregnant. We are going to be parents.
- How marvelous! - Mm-hmm.
- Great to hear. Very nice. Good. - Mm.
Mine?
- Yeah, it's our child. - My child. Our child.
Oh, shit, there was a lot of stuff going on at the same time.
I was gonna be a dad
and, on top of that, be a national hero.
And it's not easy when you're behind bars like some freakin' animal.
You just have to man up and handle your problems.
Like when Dad abandoned me and Mom was sent to the loony bin.
The social services sent me to a foster home...
Hey, kid!
...and this ugly drunken pig was supposed to take care of me.
Get to work, dammit.
Are you sure you've got a cock?
You're digging like a damn woman!
It didn't bother me that much. I can handle that kind of crap.
You little boy-pussy!
Bring me another bottle, you sodding brat!
You have to be a bit creative and have a strong psyche.
And I've always had that.
I'll show you.
And it was fun driving that old bastard up the wall.
Here comes Santa Claus.
I've got something for you, boy-pussy.
- What the hell, Clark?! Stop! - Burn in hell, you fat bastard!
Clark!
Stop!
But, finally, it was time to escape.
Goddamn it, Clark!
You little fucking piece of shit.
No, no, no, no, no. What the hell?
What the hell have you done?!
What the hell, Clark?!
You little piece of...
No!
Clark!
Man up and handle your problems.
STOCKHOLM 23RD AUGUST, 1973
What the hell are you looking at? Huh?
I don't see anyone else here.
I guess you're looking at me.
What I want? Well, I'm gonna tell you.
Three million,
in unmarked bills,
foreign currency,
and a blue Ford Mustang.
Blue! Ha!
Yeah...
What I do want?
Three. M-millions.
In another country's money's kronas.
And a blue Ford Mustang.
Now. Now!
Let the party begin.
Yeah.
Let the party begin.
Let the party begin!
- Olofsson, wake up. - I didn't do it.
Someone's here to see you.
Rise and shine, Olofsson.
Tommy-Pony.
- What a surprise. - "Tommy" is enough.
You are gonna come with me, immediately.
I am?
Mm.
Yeah, well, I don't really have anything better to do.
Where are we going?
To a disco?
Seriously... what is this? What the hell are you doing here?
We're done talking. Come with me.
Gate's open.
Stand by.
- Oh, hi there. - Hello.
Hiller. Nice to meet you.
Go shit yourself. An escort? Must be something important.
Come on, guys. What sort of fun do you have in store?
Am I that handsome that you're speechless?
Ah, don't be too embarrassed. It happens all the time.
Come on, Tommy-Pony, admit that it's a little bit funny. Huh?
How you're always trying to put me in jail and now you're dragging me out.
Settle down, Clark.
Oh. Smile, damn it. The press are here.
Now maybe you'll make the front page and see how that feels.
- Tommy! Where are you going? - What the hell?
What's that smell?
Have you bought a new cologne, Tommy?
- For Christ's sake. - To get laid, right?
Nah, he always pays for that.
When are we gonna get there? How far are we going?
- I'm freakin' starving. - Could you stop talking?
- What was your name? - Hiller.
- Hiller, where are we going? - Shut up!
What the hell? These seats are sticky. What have you been doing back here?
No, don't answer that. I don't want to know.
- Tommy, are you getting any pussy? - Shut up, Clark!
You're so grumpy. Why don't we have a little fun?
- I'm starving. - Yeah, dammit. I'm hungry too.
Hiller, for Christ's sake...
- I have to pee too. - Shut up, Clark!
Why are you driving so slow? Are we there soon?
Actually, yes, we are.
Well, we now we see a dark-blue Volvo approaching.
Hi there.
It's rumored that Clark Olofsson has been transported here
from a jail in Kalmar.
It was a long trip and the car smelled like shit.
When we finally arrived, I realized that something big was going on.
I was curious about what had happened, but I had a hunch.
Live from Norrmalmstorg, Bo Holmström.
The entire Norrmalmstorg is, as you can see, full of police cars
and sealed off because we are expecting gunfire at any moment.
As we heard, it began at ten o'clock this morning,
as a man who is said to have spoken English
entered the bank.
The drama on Norrmalmstorg.
The thing that made me super famous.
I became the Stockholm-syndrome man all over the world.
Hell, they should have named it the Clark Olofsson syndrome.
The Stockholm syndrome...
That's bullshit.
While we were gone for a moment, a car pulled up with Clark Olofsson.
Is he here?
I can't tell, because I've been standing by the microphone.
Holy shit, I had a blast those days.
I look back on it as a real fun memory.
This is quite an operation.
So, this terrorist has taken three people hostage,
shot a policeman in the hand, and asked us to bring you here.
He's also dressed up as an Arab.
- Or Rastafari. We're not sure which. - Rastafari?
He says he knows you.
Do you know who this is?
Well, I couldn't tell them that I knew who it was...
No...
...because then they wouldn't have brought me there.
I'm not sure I know who it is.
Mm-hmm.
On the other hand, I couldn't say that I didn't know who it was,
because then they wouldn't let me in.
But if it's the one I think it is, and I'm pretty sure about it...
- Mm? - ...you're in a shitload of trouble.
- So, who is it, then? - Well, who the hell knows?
But I do know one thing.
He is a dangerous, unstable lunatic, and I'd do exactly as he says.
Yeah, it was one hell of a balancing act.
Of course, they believed everything I said.
- Hiller, got a cigarette? - Yeah, yeah.
Of course.
Rastafari, you say?
Mm. And what more did he ask for?
Um, three million in cash and a Ford Mustang.
Ford Mustang.
Blue, he said. He was adamant about it.
- Yeah. - Quite a fancy car, actually.
- Yeah, that is a fancy car. - Okay. Okay.
Clark, let me make this very clear to you.
Mm.
I think this is an absolutely terrible idea.
But... I have orders from Palme,
and he thinks that you can solve this without anybody getting hurt or killed.
Have you ever heard anything that stupid?
I'll be damned.
The mighty prime minister, Olof Palme himself, has asked for my help?
- No, no, no. The terrorist has asked... - Tommy-Pony, my friend...
My name is Tommy,
and you are not my friend!
No?
Okay, then.
Tell Palme I'll do it.
- Okay. - I'll do it for the good of the country.
But I want a gun, immunity,
and extra day releases.
- Absolutely. - Hmm?
- Anything you want. - Hiller! Absolutely not!
Forget about the whole thing. Turn the car around and go back to Kalmar.
- I didn't ask for this. - Fine, fine! Olofsson, you get your way.
But remember that nobody gets hurt.
Sure thing.
I promise.
Okay. Let's go.
What now? Things are happening here. We hear shouting.
Goddamn it, Clark!
- He's here. - Get a grip!
- Just kidding. - What's so damn funny, Hiller?!
Clark!
Respect the barriers. Stay behind.
Come on!
We have to fight crime.
Otherwise, our state of law can't be maintained.
...maintained...
As you can see,
the police are taking every possible measure.
That's the duty of the police.
...the police...
There wasn't a single soul in the entire country
who wasn't watching me as I walked towards the bank to save the day.
Oh, my God. Clark!
Respect the barriers! Stay behind them! Stay behind!
What the fuck? It's Clark!
All of Sweden came to a halt as they watched me come to Palme's aid.
On the other hand, we must protect human lives.
...lives...
We see Clark Olofsson being escorted to...
Look. It's Daddy on TV.
...and Officer Tommy Lindström.
Look!
My son's on TV!
Shut up, you drunken old hag!
In every regard, make sure that each individual is safe from harm.
...from harm...
The situation is dangerous and dramatic right now.
We have taken cover ourselves.
So, the prime minister means that the government
and the police have put their trust in Clark Olofsson...
Clark...
...a notorious bank robber?
I, uh, would rather not go into that.
...go into that...
OK, here's the deal.
The terrorist is controlling the bottom floor.
We have the top floor, the basement, the outside, the rooftops.
- Well, pretty much everywhere else. - All right. Okey-dokey. See you.
Uh-uh-uh! Clark, remember our agreement.
Nobody gets hurt, no one dies.
Yeah, yeah, of course. You know, you can trust me, Tommy.
You can always trust me. You know that.
I had no idea what the hell I was getting into.
I could just as well have been heading straight into a death trap.
This is a horrible idea.
But I knew one thing for sure.
Life is full of disappointments.
You just have to man up and handle your problems.
And have some fun while you're at it.
Let the party begin!
BASED ON "VAFAN VAR DET SOM HÄNDE?" I-III BY CLARK OLOFSSON