Smilla's Sense of Snow

Hey ya! Hey ya!

Why, Smilla?

My baby.

Isaiah!

He was playing on the roof. He fell.

All right, nothing to see now. Come on.

I just need a few from this angle.

O.K.

I f-f-found him.

What made him run?

Who are you?

I'm the lady who lived upstairs from him.

He's the gentlemen from the ground floor.

Well, you're not allowed up here.

I'll need the footprints of the deceased.

I don't know why the hell he was playing up here,

running around wild without supervision.

A strange way to play, don't you think?

Take these people downstairs.

The tracks go in a straight line towards the edge.

No child in the world would play like that.

Can you just go down now, please?

Why so many accidents, Smilla?

First my husband, and now my baby.

Why, Smilla?

I don't know.

How am I going to go to the morgue tomorrow?

If they think it's an accident,

why are they doing an autopsy?

They told me to show up and...

sign papers,

and get his things.

I'll go, Juliane.

Let me go.

I had hoped he would live a long life.

Yes. All parents hope that for their children.

I have children of my own.

I know how you must feel.

My deepest condolences.

I'm not his mother.

We were friends.

Beat it, you little shit.

Wanna read me a story?

No, I won't read you a story.

Persistent little bastard, aren't you?

I can't be your little friend. O.K.?

I have nothing to offer you.

Just go away. Hmm?

Look, there's absolutely no future in this.

"A point is that which cannot be divided.

A line is a length without breadth."

This can't possibly interest you.

Hmm.

"A semicircle is a figure

contained within a diameter

and the circumference intersected

by the diameter."

You smell bad.

I don't mean to say this to hurt your feelings,

but you really stink.

What interests you?

Do you know anything about Greenland?

Hmm.

You should know something

about where you're from.

Why?

Because it tells you who you are.

It's important to know who we are.

Do you know who you are?

No.

Did your mom read you stories?

She told me stories.

About what?

About Greenland.

When she used to hunt, stories like that.

Miss Smilla, can we go home?

Why, are you tired?

No, home to Greenland.

What do you want me to do, lie to you?

Tell you we'll go to Greenland and then not go?

Get your hopes up?

If Inuits who are feuding

wish to reconcile,

they touch each other's breasts,

and say ilaga.

Ilaga.

Ilaga.

It means friend.

Ilaga.

When a child dies like that,

it's a tragedy. Terrible accident.

It wasn't an accident.

I see.

Who did the autopsy?

It was routine.

That's not what I asked you.

Doctor Loyen.

Johannes Loyen?

Isn't he the head of the Institute of Arctic Medicine?

Mm-hmm.

Why would such a famous man

do an autopsy on a 6-year-old?

It was routine.

So you've said.

I'm so sorry for your loss.

Do you think his feet were cold?

He always wore those sneakers.

When I saw him lying there in the snow,

his soles were so run-down.

His feet must have been cold.

Would you like something to drink?

I may be from Greenland, but I don't drink.

Are you...

Are you hungry?

Look, I don't want to share anything with you. O.K.?

O.K.

Perhaps you can sleep.

Go-G-Good night.

Do you always stutter?

No.

I make you nervous then?

Don't you think I see the way you look at me?

What did you think, we'd get drunk

and fuck all night, fueled by our mutual grief?

Is that what you thought?

It's O.K., Smilla.

I loved him, too.

Yeah.

Of course you did.

Dr. Loyen.

You're of Greenlandic descent.

My mother was Greenlandic.

You were the one who examined Isaiah?

Yes.

What I would like to know is

what did he die of?

He fell from a height of 5 stories.

The organism as a whole simply collapses.

Was there any trace of violence?

None at all. What makes you think that?

Is it possible to see the report?

You wouldn't understand it.

Look, both we and the police

are interested in

the most thorough investigation possible.

In a case like this,

if there's even the slightest doubt,

we look for everything and we find everything.

A child defends itself,

gets skin cells under its nails.

There was nothing like that, nothing at all.

We looked at the police report.

The footprints show quite clearly

that the boy was alone on the roof

before he fell.

There was nothing to indicate

that this was anything but an accident.

It's tragic, of course,

but the case is closed.

Now, please drop by again, my dear lady,

if there's anything else that troubles you.

I'm filing a complaint with the district attorney.

What makes this your business?

A 6-year-old boy was murdered.

I'm making it my business.

I've told you there's no forensic evidence

to indicate foul play, none whatsoever.

I don't really care about your forensic evidence.

I knew him,

and that's my evidence.

We all have our phobias.

Do you know what Isaiah's was?

It was heights.

Nevertheless, he was up there.

Yes, he was.

And what puzzles me...

what keeps me awake at night

is wondering what made him go up there at all.

May I please spend the night?

Hello!

Hello!

We're going to miss the film.

You're late.

I've called the agency twice.

It's not the baby-sitter, dear.

Come in.

We get 1,000 cases a year.

I can't be expected to remember every single one.

Unburden yourself, Lagermann.

You'll feel better.

We were very busy the night he was brought in:

drunk drivers, Christmas parties.

You're not squeamish, are you?

No.

I have a little trick,

the kind of thing you invent in any profession.

I hold a light bulb inside his trousers.

In one leg, there is a perforation.

I examine the boy again. All of this is routine.

I find a hole in his thigh.