(I "Arabian Dance" by Tchaikovsky)
(clock strikes midnight)
Merry Christmas! Ho ho ho ho ho!
Thank you, sir. Merry Christmas.
A train!
Stay!
- Hi, Dad. This is Jordan. - Hi, honey.
When you come to my Christmas pageant today, I'm the angel that starts the show
and tells Mary she's going to have a baby.
You are really gonna like what I got you.
Mommy says I can come over to your house after Mass tonight.
Call he! To tell he! You got this message, OK?
Yeah, yeah.
- Is that it? - (Catherine) Yes.
(Jordan) That's it. The pageant is at three o'clock. OK, Merry Christmas! Bye!
(end-of-message beep)
(man's voice) Uh, Frank?
Frank?
(sighs) Ah. You're not there.
I hope I got the right number. I was wondering if you got the picture I sent.
(phone rings)
(cacophony of bleeps and chimes)
(urgent bleeping)
(letterbox opens)
(r "0 Holy Night" played on violin)
(doorbell)
- Hey! - Hey!
- I didn't know you'd be here. - I'm glad to see you. Merry Christmas.
I was consulting on a case in Vancouver, so Peter invited me.
I'm still not sure this is his house, because
I haven't seen him. So I'm so glad you're here.
I was sure all these people were looking at me like "Who is that woman over there?"
- You're in the right place. - Oh, good.
- Do you have any plans with your family? - No. You?
Yeah, I gotta go to my daughter's pageant. She's playing an angel.
Too many angels this time of year.
- Are you OK? - Yeah. You know.
(doorbell)
(inaudible)
Not a very cordial host.
- (knock at door) - Come.
Hi.
- Merry Christmas. - Merry Christmas, Lara.
Frank brought this for you.
That's for Chelsea. We've been hiding gifts in here for years.
Taylor outgrew bicycles last year.
It's not cool for a girl her age.
The wind plays havoc with your hair. It's...
She's already talking about what kind of car she wants.
And Erin is off to college in two years.
(sighs) Something about this time of year always makes me consider time.
(Pours drink)
Wouldn't it be wonderful if, in life,
you could pick the speed at which you experienced time?
I'd have it take forever for these kids to grow up. Even if they didn't like it.
I'd have autumn go much slower, winter go a little faster.
And the time that I was experiencing regret I'd have go... slower, actually,
so I could fix and leave the situation without regret.
I'd like to know how much time I have left.
That's part of the fun of it, Peter.
For almost the entire history of Western
civilisation, this month has been a holy time.
The Druids, winter solstice, Hanukkah.
The Romans converted Saturnalia into Christmas.
Christ wasn't even born on this day, maybe not even 1,997 years ago.
So no one knows for sure when the millennium really begins.
Ends. How much time is left.
- Not even the Group? - It's the midnight of the century.
- Will there be a dawn? - We're working to assure there will be.
Possible futures exist, like branches on a tree.
Most of us only see the path we're on, but some, the gifted ones, see those branches.
To the midnight of the century.
(caller rings “Jingle Bells“ on doorbell)
Ho ho ho, Sir Black! Just came by to download some upgrades.
Roedecker, it's Christmas Eve.
Really? That would explain all the lords a-leaping.
- Can't it wait? - Mr Watts told me he wanted it done today.
Hey, wow! You've gone all out. Martha Stewart would be green with envy.
Just be fast or I'll have you stringing Christmas lights.
Mr Black, here's another reason I came over. Merry Christmas.
- Roedecker, you shouldn't have. - (scoffs)
I haven't wrapped yours yet.
There's never enough time for anything, is there?
Well, come on, open it!
Black Christmas and Silent Night, Deadly Night. No Miracle on 34th Street?
Nothing will put you more in the mood for the holidays than a serial-killing Santa!
This is a spree killer.
The sexual repression and signature makes him an organised serial killer.
The triggering stressor would be that they forced him to wear that Santa outfit.
- It says "serial killer" on the box. - (doorbell)
It's the thought that counts. Thank you.
- Hi. Merry Christmas. - Merry Christmas, sweetie.
- We were on our way to Jordan's pageant... - That's my friend Brian. My daughter.
- Hi. - Hello!
- Want to see a present I got? - Sure!
What's up?
I know this is a rough time of year for you because of your mother.
But your father sent a picture over to the old house for Jordan. Of himself.
- He did? - Yeah.
And I was thinking, maybe you should invite your father to Jordan's pageant.
- He only thinks of himself. - Isn't that what you're doing?
- Oh, please. I can't believe... - Frank!
Jordan shouldn't be kept from her grandfather.
Daddy, look! Isn't this the coolest thing?
(bleeping)
Look. You can feed it, walk it.
And if it gets too annoying, you can reset it.
That is so cool! I'd love one of those!
- That's nice. Where'd you get it? - My mother got it for her.
- Your mother? - Mommy says it's the circle of life.
Who can argue with that?
Well, we'd better go.
- Bye, Dad. See you tomorrow. - Bye! Merry Christmas!
See you later!
(murmuring to himself)
Merry Christmas, Roedecker.
Aha! Cool!
Last year, you said you would get it for me this year.
I'm sorry, Frank. Maybe tomorrow.
It'll be too late. Tomorrow's Christmas.
Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow...
(shouting and bustle)
Excuse me! Out of the way.
Thank you for shopping at McGrain's.
A Danny Dinosaur or a Cabbage Patch Doll.
- Child's age? - Six.
- Gender? - Female.
- Can't do it. - Sorry.
- You're out? - No.
- We just can't sell you a toy... - That your little girl's gonna hate.
- She loves dolls! - Not last year's doll.
We've got just the thing.
Uh... Stop with the hard sell.
- A Danny Dinosaur. - Trust us, she won't like it.
Look, just buy something. I've got a turkey to get in the oven.
A Danny Dinosaur. Now.
Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.
(I "The First Noel" played on flute)
Frank, I'm sorry.
I'll find a seat somewhere. I'll see you after.
(music stops)
Once upon a time, there was... Uh...
Uh... (prompter whispers)
A child born in the town of Bethlehem, and it was Jesus!
(man's voice) Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.
"(I" The First Noel')
Legend has it ghosts walk in churchyards on Christmas Eve.
Actually, I misspoke myself.
They're not ghosts, precisely. They're fetches.
Souls of those destined to die in the coming year,
in search of those who will soon be their companions.
- It usually happens at midnight. - Who are you?
But those blessed with a special perception might not have to wait till nightfall.
Why would that concern me?
There's no telling whose face you might see.
Why put off till tomorrow what should be done today?
It is, after all, the midnight of the century.
(applause)
(I "We Three Kings" on piano)
Hark! A star beckons over yonder manger.
Our Saviour is born tonight.
Go get him.
- Daddy! Daddy! Did you see me? - Are you kidding? You were great!
- Thank you. - A new present?
A Danny Dinosaur?
- You don't like it? - I got one of these last year!
I hear you.
How come you're dressed as a shepherd? I thought you wanted to be an angel.
Mom made me be a shepherd. She doesn't like angels any more.
Sorry about the seating mix-up.
What's going on with the shepherd costume?
Um... Sweetie, could you wait in the car a minute? I'll be right there.
Jordan gave me this this morning.
She told me her grandmother helped her draw it.
So?
Not my mother, Frank. Yours.
I asked her to tell me she'd drawn it herself, but she just stood there,
with her arms folded, staring at me.
You're just a kid. You didn't see nothin'. It's all in your head!
- She wouldn't back down. - You know Jordan. She's... sensitive.
Telling me she colours with her dead
grandmother is a little more than sensitive.
Come on. You know Jordan. She's got a gift. You can't suppress it.
Your "gift" gave you a nervous breakdown.
This "gift" makes you see horrible images.
It's turned you away from your family, from
your daughter, toward the Millennium Group.
Frank, you never even consider that this gift that you have could be lying to you.
You don't see yourself withdrawing from your family, hiding behind your ability.
If this has happened to you, what is it gonna do to Jordan?
I want her to have a choice. I want a childhood free from this.
I want her to know she has some place to
turn other than just within herself, like...
Like me. Right?
It is what it is.
There is nothing we can do to fix it.
- I know that things are changing for us. - Yeah.
Time's running out. Frank, I want you to be happy.
But Jordan is my first priority, her safety and her wellbeing.
And I won't let anything jeopardise that.
No.
You're a great mother.
Come here.
- Will I see you tonight? - You bet.
I have less than 12 hours to find a present for my daughter.
(clerk) That's the problem with Christmas.
It used to have meaning, giving.
She likes stuffed animals. Give me a dog, a chicken, anything.
- Mm-hm. Going for the traditional. - Staid and unimaginative.
She likes stuffed animals, she even likes dolls. But no angels.
(sighs) Upstairs.
She's gotta like that.
(I "Arabian Dance" by Tchaikovsky)
(doorbell)
- Hi. Thanks for coming over. - No problem.
I brought some pumpkin bread, some cranberry bread,
and some very excellent fat-free eggnog.
- You think I need to lose weight? - No! The bread's not fat-free.
You look great. But you can eat something
fat-free that tastes great and have seconds.
OK. Then I'll get four glasses and a knife to cut the bread.
You found them.
You're right. I can't tell them apart. They're very powerful.
Yeah. My mother helped me draw this one, Christmas Eve morning, 1946.
That night she died.
Locked in her room, alone.
My mother was there to help me draw this. Maybe she was there to help Jordan, also.
I see instinctively, intuitively, kind of intensely,
it's getting stronger on another plane since I started working with the Group.
Lara, I think Jordan sees the way you do.
I know that we can't somehow just wish it away,
that we can't stop her from seeing.
What I need to know is: what is going to happen to my daughter?
Here's my thing.
This is a tough time of year for me.
- Angels are everywhere. - I know. I've been seeing them myself.
Yeah, cute, cuddly, flapping their wings, blowing their horns all over the place.
Wings on angels are something the Church
took from Egyptian gods cos people liked it.
So these drawings are not true depictions?
Well, it's not what I see.
But from them I get the same feeling as when "he" appears.
That's how it all started when I was a kid. I
just felt them. I felt a presence around me.
And then one day a man came over to our house.
And he was just an out-of-town business associate of my father's.
They were talking in the living room and... there he was,
standing - well, not standing - behind this man.
Just an intense, beautiful light.
I was overwhelmed with this horrible sensation.
And I went and I told my mother that this man was gonna die today.
She got so mad at me for saying such a thing.
But he did. He had a coronary in his hotel room that afternoon.
And you've seen and felt him ever since?
Yeah, but I didn't talk about it till Peter
Watts approached me about the Millennium Group.
See, I figured everyone saw them.
But I got very clued in when my mother took me to see Father Espisito,
who angrily insisted that if I kept "seeing things", I'd have to become a nun,
which, although a noble calling, is a serious setback in boys' interest in you.
I don't know how you can prepare her, Frank.
You're right, they won't just go away.
And for me it only gets more intense as I get older.
He only appears to warn me of imminent danger,
or to point me in the direction of evil's presence.
When he appears, all my senses are heightened.
Everything is clear and uncluttered in my mind and in my heart.
I feel like nothing can stand in my way, but I would've done anything - anything -
not to have this in my life.
Look, Frank, look.
At least she's got a father that understands, and that's...
That will really help her.
And if there's anything I can do, ever, any time...
Thank you.
But there is one thing, Frank.
In the Bible, and to me, they're messengers.
This was brought to your attention. And you said you've seen angels all day.
So my immediate concern isn't for Jordan, but for you.
You may not be able to see them,
but I feel that something is trying to be communicated to you.
And there's only one place to find the answer.
Oh, great. Another angel just got its wings.
Mom!
(banging on door)
(dog barking)
(man) Quiet! You'll raise the dead!
- Who's there? - Frank.
- My son Frank? - Yeah.
Well, get in. You'll catch your death of cold.
Mom?
Mom.
- Are you hungry? - No.
Oh, yeah, yeah.
Did you get the one that I sent you?
- Yeah. - Did Jordan?
Mm-hm.
Did she know who it was? Did she know it was me?
Yeah. I need to see her room.
Take off your coat and stay a while. We got a lot of years to talk over.
I don't think we do.
Where's the key?
Well, that's a kick, isn't it?
I thought you came here to wish me a Merry Christmas,
show me pictures of my little granddaughter.
Where's the key?
You know you're not supposed to go up there! You're not allowed up there!
You know that!
(I "Arabian Dance" by Tchaikovsky)
They're not coming back, Henry.
They're gone forever.
(clock chimes)
What you just saw pushed us away from each other.
- Even though nothing made us sadder. - Sad enough to let her die alone?
See that star? The gold star?
That was hung in windows
by a family who'd lost a loved one in the service overseas.
Your mother hung that for her brother, Joe, your Uncle Joe.
You didn't know that, did you?
Joe was stationed in England,
and we all knew he was going to be a part of the Allied invasion.
We didn't know, of course. Nobody knew for sure. Guessed.
It was a big secret, maybe the biggest secret in the 20th century,
what date D-Day would begin.
Sit.
Oh, it was... June 5th, 1944.
It was about 8.30 at night. We were all
sitting around here, listening to the radio.
And suddenly your mother jumped up and blurted out "The Allies are attacking!"
We all looked at her like she'd gone nuts.
And then suddenly she burst into tears,
huge, weeping tears, and ran upstairs to that room.
Well, she was right. She was right.
Joe died in the first wave on the beachhead at Normandy.
She knew about Uncle Joe before he died?
Yeah, yeah, but I didn't know that for a long time.
After that night, she took to that room.
She moved out of our bedroom, out of my bed.
And she started drawing those little angels.
She told me about Joe,
that she had had... a vision
that he was going to die on D-Day.
Well, I believed her but it, uh... it scared me to death.
Because, in those days, people who saw things or who had visions,
that was the first ticket right to the nuthouse.
So I was afraid. I was afraid for both of us. I was afraid for you.
I mean, you...
No, no. You didn't see things quite the way your mother did,
but it was clear that there was a
difference... a different sense that you had
that others didn't.
And so there was this ability that your mother had and that you had,
and that she couldn't turn away from.
And I understood that, I sympathised with that.
But it was taking my family away.
It was taking my wife away,
the woman I loved more than anything else in this whole world.
I loved her so much, so much.
I don't know, Frank, if you can understand
how that can happen between a man and a wife.
I know too well.
So she told me... No, she had been told...
No, she had seen...
that she was about to die.
Well, that was the last straw. "You... You don't see nothin', Linda!"
"Nothin'! It's in your mind! You don't see a damn thing!"
I said that to you, too! "You saw nothing!"
Do you remember Blue Rose tea?
Yeah.
They used to have those little angel things you could send away for.
Your mother wanted one in the worst way and
I wouldn't have the damn things in the house.
51 years ago tonight she gave in. To ease my mind, I now know, but she gave in.
She said that she wasn't seeing angels any more. Any more.
The last picture she made was with you.
And that scared me. That scared me, Frank.
That scared me enough that I gave in.
I wanted to find one of those little Blue Rose angels.
I looked high and low and lfinally found one down at the Woolwolths.
When I gave it to her, she was so touched.
We made a pact over that, your mother and I.
I told her that I would love her forever.
And she said that she would move the figurine,
to show that she was waiting for me on the other side,
where I, too, could see the angels.
And where we could be...
finally... forever...
together.
51 years ago tonight, Tchaikovsky on the radio,
she kissed me goodbye,
and then moved to you kids, hugged you and kissed you.
Then she rose, and with the most serene smile on her face,
she walked up to that room alone, as she wanted.
It was the only way it could've been, Frank.
And that figurine didn't move an inch
in 51 years.
Jordan drew this.
- I can't. - No, no.
You have your mother's gift. She'd want you to have it. So do I.
- What about the sign? - Oh, I got it, I received it.
- The drawing? - No, no.
She brought you to me.
- Why don't you come to church with me? - No, no.
No, I have to listen to the music.
But I do want a photograph of my granddaughter some day.
Well, she's just beautiful!
Oh, why did it take so long?
- Well, Merry Christmas, son. - The same to you, Pop. I'll see you soon.
- OK. - Bye.
Look! It's Daddy!
- Merry Christmas, honey. - Merry Christmas, Daddy.
- You look beautiful. - Thank you.
- Wait, look. - Is this my present, Daddy?
I know how unhappy you were about that angel thing.
Grandma wants me to have it.
- She would have loved you very much. - I know.
Jordan? Sweetie? The church is filling up.
We'll be there.
Can I have a big hug?
Look.
Who are those people?
(sighs) Mom is waiting.
Visiontext Subtitles: Paul Webster
(child) I made this!
ENGLISH SDH