Love' 47 (1949) - full transcript

Love '47

based on Wolfgang Borchert's play
'The Man Outside'

Greetings, Ladies and Gentlemen!

Greetings!

Like flies...like flies... you, too!
You just don't know it yet.

But look over here... here's one who does
know by the looks of him.

Pretty close to the water, isn't he?
Drawing the consequences, probably?

You used to get lovers standing this
close to water, or the occasional poet.

But poets have long hair...

And this guy here looks like someone
who is fed up with it.

Wants to end it all, disgusted by
the world... no big surprise, huh?



He's moving on...looking for a suitable
place to jump in, no doubt... watch!

Ha... another one!
Like flies... I told you so.

But... this is, in fact, a girl...

They would make a lovely couple.
Suitable for our day and age.

Two drowned bodies... he he!

Children...children...
my children...

What do you want...
why are you moaning like that?

Don't disturb the young folks.
They are just about ready.

But they are all my children!

Lighten up, then... they're about to
celebrate their wedding.

And I can't help it...
I can't help it!

Of course you can't.
- But they are all my children!

You don't say... who are you, then?

I am the God in whom
nobody believes anymore.



Oho, why, it's our Good Lord himself!

If I may introduce myself as well...
I am an undertaker.

Death? You are Death?

I don't believe it. You are fat, Death
is thin. I know him well.

Yes...I have gained a little weight
recently... Business has been blooming.

One war has been following another.

Yes, you are well off. You are the God
that everyone believes in.

Nobody can deny you.

Excuse me... I didn't mean
to disturb you. - You're welcome.

It's so dirty...

Yes...

But it's secluded...

Or would you prefer to... on your own?
I'll find another spot.

No, please... stay if you wish.

Well, I never... - They have found
each other, and in this life yet!

Well, I guess there's no deal to be
made here... for the time being.

I'll give them three hours.
- Three years! Many years!

An entire lifetime.

Dying together is easier... come on!

Living together is easier.

Dying together is easier.

Everything is easier together.

Nobody was lonely in the war.

Well, we were.
- We?

The women, I mean.

Well, now I am, too.

How long have you been back?

Three days.

And you're already giving up?

I've been fed up for a long time.

Why did you come back at all then?

I thought there would be someone
waiting for me.

You left us alone for sure.

But you had to go to Russia...

...to defend us, hm?

In the Caucasus, hm?

That's why you left us alone.

But now you've finally come back
to help me drown myself.

Just in time, I have to say.

Shall we?

There are bells again?

I have stood next to a man like this
before, while bells were ringing.

I thought I was entering a new world.

Oh my God!

I was so full of faith...
in the world, in my husband.

He had just opened his practice
as a lawyer.

I thought he was so smart.

And his cousin, so nice and diligent.

Gentlemen, start your engines!
Off you go!

And how we have been betrayed!

So viciously betrayed!

Back then I believed in
everything they told us.

In God's grace, in love among human
beings and in our future.

In our wonderful future.

My God, how stupid I was!

Isn't it wonderful knowing that our own
little happiness is merely part

of a great, all-encompassing one

and that things are on the up again.

We may not be prosperous yet

but German diligence and efficiency
have gained us new respect in the world.

The Reich stands united. Powerful
statesmen ask us for peace.

These are truly magnificent times that
we are allowed to live in.

and I am envious of the offspring
that will sit on this couple's knees

when, one day, a silver garland will
grace the locks of our dear Anna.

If you insist, the crown of her head.
Oh, now I've lost my train of thought...

I can't bear to think about it.

But it will not let me be.

Why did it have to end like this?
Why?... Why?

We were not evil.

We were guileless and trusting and
young and happy

We laughed and we danced...
Oh how we danced!

We actually met at a dance.

We would never get tired.

Now it seems to me as if we hadn't
slept for weeks back then, only danced.

It was the ball of the Alpine Society.
We weren't even engaged then.

You've never been on a mountain peak?
Afraid of heights?

I'll tie you to a rope and drag you up!
You can put your faith in me. - Really?

All women in love think this way.
I simply was in heaven with him.

The world just whirled around me.

I was never one for mountaineering.
Much too taxing, always up and down, but

that's the way he wanted me, and I
wanted to be exactly like he desired.

Then he took me home in his car, and I
think it wasn't at all me that he loved

but the image he had fashioned of me.

But we were both completely crazy.

I couldn't stay at the ball... him being
so near, I had to pull myself together.

Love had left me speechless.

Do you really want to go? Or would you
come back to my place for coffee? - No.

Oh my God, no! Good night, Herr Gehrke.
It's been a lovely evening.

Fr?ulein Anna...
- You can call me later, good night!

Fr?ulein Anna! Fr?ulein Anna!

You didn't go up at all!
Yes, and you didn't drive off at all.

Anna, I have to ask you... do you want
to marry me? - Yes. - When? - Right now!

Anna! - Please leave me be! - Let me
come in! - J?rgen, no, I...oh...

I love you, J?rgen!
Anna!

That took place in March.

In August, we were on our honeymoon.

In his beloved Alps, of course.
He had to prove to me he was right.

But I got dizzy on the rope... must have
been a major disappointment for J?rgen.

We took walks instead. We were so happy,
only afraid that war would break out.

Hello! Peace! Peace!

What did he say?

Once again, there'll be no war!
- A pact with Russia!

I don't believe it!
- They just said it on the radio.

And all due to the Fuehrer! - Peace!

This calls for celebration, friends!
Let's get drunk out of our wits!

Like with the Austrians and the Czechs!

And the Poles? What about the Poles?
They will yield, that's for sure!

We'll make mincemeat of them.

And that's how it turned out. We set out
and thought that's the way it should be.

The Fatherland... Langemark...
and our flag is nearer to us than death.

Nobody told us it would be hell.

Hell? Hell is right here!
Hell is right now!

Back then, we were afraid... but, at
first, things went better than expected.

But when we remained alone...
that's when hell started.

And I was even one of the lucky ones.

J?rgen remained home for another year.
We were on holidays when the call came.

I was unhappy and had a terrible
premonition, but

I didn't want to add more burden
to his already heavy heart.

At least, that's what I thought.

Hang on Anna... I'll help you pack.

- Won't they provide you with boots?
- Not where I'm going.

Maybe I can keep wearing these,
since they are already worn in.

Come on Anna, don't take it so hard!

- What shouldn't I take so hard?
- Look, it has worked out fine so far.

So far, we've had fewer casualties than
in one single battle back in 1914.

- And if you'll be one of the few?
- But this can't go on for much longer.

You have to hand it to the Nazis.
War is something they're really good at.

And they are bound to win!
- Oh, war! War! You...

Come on, Anne...
we'll have to roll with the punches.

It's part and parcel of human life...
like food and drink and love and death.

That's how it was and how it will be.
And it always will be heartbreaking.

Believe me, I feel terrible.
I just prefer not to show it to you.

Yes, please!

Your car will arrive at half past six!

That's settled, then!
Thanks, Fr?ulein Vroni!

That means we'll have the whole evening
to ourselves... and the night!

Be a darling and leave me alone
for a while.

I'll finish packing within the hour and
the remaining time will be ours alone.

I was so upset... and then I heard him
talk... he didn't seem so upset at all.

He almost seemed a little glad...
a man, after all.

So, you're off to Berlin, then?

No, no, to Oberammergau to join the
Gebirgsj?ger.

Ah, I reckon they'll send you
all the way up to Norway, then?

I should hope so! To the Midnight Sun!
And maybe even a little further.

There's mountains in the Caucasus, too!
And in the Ural!

Plenty of virgin territory
for a mountaineer.

Now listen, pal, that's not a good war.
Those Turks are terrible people.

But wherever we'll be going,
good people will be. - Damn straight!

And that's when I knew.

Women might have idolized the Fuehrer,
but the war?

That was made by men.
The world is ruled by men,

and you can tell by its ugly face.

Would you have a cigarette?
- Yes.

No, left them at home.

So, you want to procrastinate death
for the duration of a smoke?

Excuse me, no, but I...
have to get off my feet.

Chickening out?
- No... it's only that... I am...

They stole my kneecap, back in Russia.
Lost it in Voronezh.

Men have treated you badly, I gather.
- You could say that.

And now I don't want to go on.
- Oh, you don't want to go on?

See, that's the difference between us.
Me, I can't go on.

Because of that leg?

I am hungry. I am tired. I am alone.
I am finished. I can't go on.

You don't say!
Well, I can help you.

I won't be needing my room any longer.
There's food and cigarettes, too. Come!

Don't get any ideas, though.
You can't help yourself, so I will.

Why don't you get up? - My knee...
- Give me your hand.

It's a 15 minute walk.
Can you make it?

What's your name, anyway?
- Beckmann.

- No Christian name?
- Not since yesterday.

Yesterday I returned home. We are simple
people. I was going to be a bookseller.

We didn't have a fancy church wedding
like yours, but it was still quite nice.

The registrar put on
a rather grave face...

The Fuehrer needs soldiers and settlers
for our Lebensraum.

That's what every young German couple
should consider in these great times.

Especially every German soldier,
before he moves out

to save his Fuehrer,
his wife and his people.

And every German soldier's wife should..

Well, it's not like we needed prodding.
But I didn't get any leave, of course.

And even when my son was born, I could
not go home. I was in Russia.

- You see? And your wife was all alone.
- She had her mother.

My father was so proud that it was
a boy. An heir!

Not that there was much to inherit...

Do you think that this is a viable
substitute for the husband's presence?

When I had my daughter, I was all alone.
All my relatives were out East.

We had no friends in Berlin yet.
I was just longing for J?rgen.

But, of course, he wasn't there. He was
climbing the Caucasus mountains,

helping to mount the flag
on Mount Elbrus.

Of course I was happy, but sick with
longing nevertheless.

- Just like I was in Russia. - Yes, you
in Russia. But you still had a goal.

But one day,
my husband was reported missing.

Took almost two years until I knew
for sure that he was dead.

Some return home and wish they hadn't.

When I arrived and saw everything in
ruins, those fields of rubble,

You walk and you walk on and on...
...and everything is broken...

except for very few houses, and you
think that this isn't real.

It can't be real! After all, that's what
we fought to prevent!

You walk on and hope that you have been
lucky. But then you arrive to face it.

And then you see. You see it then.
It's over. Or even worse.

Where once was a house, now there's a
grave. Actually, the house is the grave.

Among the others, I read: Beckmann.
That was my son.

There he was, among the rubble.
The human rubble!

Lisa wasn't among them, but I found her
name and address written on some bricks.

So I went there. Ring four times,
the sign read. But no-one answered.

So I rang once. And someone came.

Please, does my...
does Frau Beckmann live here?

Yes, that's right. Do come in.

You're early, aren't you? - I have come
from Russia. My train arrived early.

She might not even... wait a minute...
- The bathroom's yours, Fr?ulein Krause.

- Lisa? - Yes? What's up?
- Were you in Siberia, too?

- Two years. - So how were the Russians?
As dandy as they say?

- She'll be here presently. Excuse me,
must dash. - Thank you.

Yes, please?

I am Frau Beckmann.
You wanted to see me?

Can I help you with something?
You've come from Russia, haven't you?

Don't you recognize me, then?

No.

It's me, Fritz.

Who?

Fritz. Your husband.

No!

Who are you, then?

Those are my pajamas.

Beckmann...

...it's really you...

...Beckmann.

(Death certificate)

How soon they forget... so soon.

And who was with your wife when the
house came down and killed your son?

Who was with her when the bombs fell?

I knew a man who helped me when my
flat was burning.

He was on leave from a tank division
in Russia. Couldn't wait to get back.

There are still fires outside.
We can keep the light on.

I feel like I've been in battle.

Without you, I'd have lost everything.

Maybe they'll come back.
- Well, at least, I won't be alone.

I was more afraid then you!

Feels like being born again, doesn't it?
- Yes, I almost fancy going out dancing!

Of course, we could, once this is over.
- Yes, if we're still among the living.

Clean?
- In a manner of speaking.

If they come back, I'll shoot my pistol
out of the window.

Have a seat.

And I think I'll jump out the window...
and have the next bomb tear me apart!

At least it would put an end to this!
- It suits you, though.

All clear!

I didn't blame him. I blamed myself and
the times that drove me to it.

The next day, I packed what remained and
headed to Goldap. Not from the bombs...

...well, maybe from the bombs, too, but
mainly from him and myself.

I just couldn't stand it.

Well, and then the Russians came,
and we had to flee.

That's when the next man turned up.

And it dawned on me what price these
shining knights put on their services.

There's no one left in the villages.
Who would repair that wheel?

If no one comes, we'll have to walk.
- What about our suitcases and stuff?

Here's someone!
- Moni, stay here!

Could you give us a lift? Our coachman
left to have our broken wheel fixed.

We don't have any space for luggage, but
there's always room for a pretty girl.

So hop in! - But I'll have to take my
daughter and my aunt! - Oh, I see.

Sorry, that we can't manage.
But there'll be others.

He's not going to take us?
- He can't, but maybe someone else will.

They just don't want to... all they're
interested in is picking up girls.

Penny no freeze... Penny warm!

That's how it went a few more times.

Then, a spacious car came to the rescue.

Please, you have lots of room,
could you give us a lift?

But I'm not going to K?nigsberg.
I'll soon take a left towards Elbing.

It doesn't matter.
The main thing is to get out of here!

Who's with you, then, my lady?
- My daughter Moni... come here!

And my aunt Eva. - Oh, and a grandchild,
too, I see! - You're in a good mood!

Well, the situation is bad enough.

Our luggage! - My, what people are
traveling with these days.

The car is too small for your beds.
But our suitcases, please!

So you want to abandon everything? - Yes
I don't care, we'll rely on my daughter.

So get in... but that's that!

You'll sit next to me.

Yes, just a minute!

He had an estate near Elbing. He knew it
was over, but he was relentless.

That evening we talked, and he thanked
me in a most peculiar manner.

The most delightful farewell that people
like me can take from existence.

And I'm especially grateful to you
for dressing up for the occasion.

Thus, I'll raise my glass in a toast
to our past and your future!

Aren't you a bit fanciful? You have your
estate and car, while we have nothing.

Unless you count our two suitcases.
- You are young, and beautiful.

And if life loves you, one day
you will bounce back like a spring.

But it doesn't become me
to bend, duck or hide.

We were masters, out here in the East.

The new era will be one of the masses.
One face just like another.

Nobility and downfall, my lady.
Nobility and downfall.

That private from Braunau,
he got it right!

But you are human... you want to live.
- Of course I do.

But according to my nature.
Not according to others.

I'll retreat to my woods
with my weapons.

I prefer a shot in the chest
over one in the neck.

Is it warm enough for you, my lady?

You see, you are life, fertility,
the future.

Woman... of holy nature... always
following the ways of the heart.

A farewell, Anna... You are life,
and you are my fleeting guest.

I don't know if all of this was a pose
to impress me. Anyway, it succeeded.

Suddenly I was no longer alone. I think
I might have stayed and died with him.

One week of life... real life.

But I had Moni to take care of. So, the
next morning, he took us to Stolp.

He was in good spirits, apologizing for
not having enough petrol to go further.

He gave us a large food basket
and drove off.

Hello! Come over here!

Watch this suitcase, will you?

Farewell, Monika. Have a good trip,
ladies! It has been a treat.

Thank you, thank you, sir!
Many thanks!

Was it coldness? Cynicism? Shame?

In any case, it felt terrible.

Mama!

We'll have a good time now, Moni!
We'll take the choo choo train!

What a charming man! The last
gentleman on earth... Come on, Moni.

That evening, we were herded onto
open coal wagons.

And during the night, we had to change
trains. That's when it happened.

We were sleepy and frozen stiff.
I helped the old woman up first.

Suddenly, there was an alarm.
The officers shouted:

"Everybody get on!"

Aunt Eva, quick, hand Moni up to me!

Penny! My Penny!

Moni! Moni!

Moni! Moni!

The people meant well.
So I stayed alive.

I came to regret that later on.

But at first, the old woman needed me,
and then...

My story must have been much like yours:
Camps, stations, bunkers...

The constant company of strangers,
and still as alone as in the desert.

But why tell you this? Those who know
don't need explaining,

and as for the others, it is pointless
even trying... We're almost there.

What I don't understand, though...
it's already been two years...

and now, suddenly...
- Yes, you know, back then...

there suddenly was peace, and we thought
we had had our share of suffering.

Also, I wanted to live! Oh God, how
I wanted to live!

And I believed that everything would be
fine now that there was peace.

How naive we were!
And, you know,

chickening out, stepping in front
of a train in despair, no...

I've seen too many dead people
by the side of the road.

I won't allow myself to fall.
But I might jump!

But, of course, returning from Siberia
as you have...

Well, that is a factor... besides, I can
hardly walk anymore.

But most of all, it's my conscience.

The responsibility.

Here we are, then.

Well, you don't exactly look like
a murderer.

What's with the weird glasses?

They're my gas mask glasses.
The other ones got shot.

I hope you will remove them upstairs.
- I'm completely helpless without them.

Really? That's quite a relief.
Do come in.

The room is quite a mess, sorry about
that. Step right in.

Well, it wasn't me, the police did it.
Didn't feel like cleaning up.

Give me those.

But I can't see a thing.
Even you have become blurry.

All the better.
Come on, take off your coat.

Well... I'd prefer...

I'd prefer to keep my coat on.

What's going on? Why?

We should be honest with each other.
- Of course, considering our situation!

I'm not wearing much underneath... just
a sweater. - Well, splendid!

It's just that it doesn't has any
sleeves. I used them for socks.

I see...

Here... try this on, maybe it will fit.

Don't be shy, take that off
and put this jacket on.

No! Please don't!

Well, I have to say, Frau Gehrke, this
situation is hardly ambiguous, is it?

I've told you a hundred times, wait 'til
I tell you to come in, Frau Puhlmann!

But you called out something!
The things I have to put up with in my

respectable house!
- Go away, we'll talk later.

The police have been here.

You don't have to go to the station
tomorrow, they will call you.

I'll report this to the housing office!
- But right now, you're leaving!

You do look different without glasses.
- I got you into trouble now, I guess.

Here, try this jacket on.

But that's a jacket for an athlete!
What sort of giant used to wear this?

My husband was that giant.

Did you think I run a menswear shop?

Your husband fell in the war, didn't he?

Well... died of starvation, cold...
left behind, I don't know.

One of his comrades saw his grave.

I can't wear a dead comrade's jacket.

I feel ridiculous in it.

A nasty caricature drawn by the war.
I'll take it off. - Please don't!

Please put it on again.

I'm not trying to make fun of you,
it's just that...

this is the way J?rgen would stand
before me, if he came back from Russia.

Please forgive me. I am...

Come, sit on the sofa.

And forgive me for imposing
my emotions upon you.

I can think of no better use
for this jacket.

You did say you wanted a cigarette.
Mind if I roll one for you?

It's strange... I have never let another
man wear this jacket.

I don't want you to think that men
are my profession, but to some extent...

I've already told you, I'm sick of life.

No hopes, no goals, no expectations
of a better future.

You see, this is hell.

Alone. Right in here. Alone.

And useless, because there are
too many people here.

And pointless, because nobody knows
what we are here for anymore.

Nobody needs us women, there's far too
many of us, except, of course,

They need us in a way, they use us.
But that's no kind of life at all.

And getting married in order to be
provided for? Same difference.

I've known marriages like that.
No thanks.

And I lack the necessary faith
to become a nun.

Know what I mean?
- Oh yeah. I sure do.

No need to be horrified by me.
I'm no worse than any other.

You know, when I came here,
I even had two suitcases left,

and a rucksack I got in Schwerin,
and a post office savings book.

I thought that the big city was
the best place to find work

as a maid, or sewing, I can do that.

But moving and housing regulations
were fierce, and many applied.

You spent your allotted time at a single
office, instead of the required five.

Finally, it's my turn,
and the officer asks me:

What was your last place of residence?
- Goldap, in East Prussia.

Do you have an official notice of
departure from Goldap?

In that case, you have three days
before you have to move on.

I had waited in line for two days to get
a three day residence permit.

The choice was between going to another
city for another three days, or back

to camp, being pushed around, a mere
object at the mercy of chance.

Why the long face?

Leave it to the rotten old cows,
you're much too precious for it.

Now, be decent and leave me alone.
- Spot of bad luck? Maybe I can help?

Are you with the housing office?
- God forbid, no! Is that how I look?

Then it's no use.
- Oh, nonsense!

You just went about it the wrong way.

You can have everything you need here.
What's the problem?

A flat, permit of residence, everything.

For how many?
- Just me.

What a coincidence!
Just what I was looking for.

Come with me! - I beg your pardon?
Come with me!

We'll talk about my fee later.

I see... you're some kind of broker.
- I can get you anything you want.

274...75...76!

Hey you! Get in line! Wait your turn!

Be careful now, I'm from headquarters.

I think he had connections. Anyway, he
slipped that guy something,

and that afternoon, I had my permit of
residence and this room.

It looked different back then.

The housing office had just taken it
from Frau Puhlmann.

And, of course, she took out
her grudge on me.

You understand that I have
no need to accept lodgers,

but the housing office regulates
every extra square foot.

What's all this stuff in here?
- What stuff?

It's the furniture from the other rooms.

They forced a lot of lodgers upon me.

In case you'll bring a radio, we already
have three in the house.

All playing different stations at once.

This is my personal cupboard,
I'll need access to it at all times.

She forbade me gentlemen visitors, too,

unfortunately, that was exactly what my
so-called broker had in mind for his fee.

But she took a liking to him,
thought he was charming,

and since he bribed Frau Puhlmann with
coffee, the room soon looked different.

But time, as is its wont, revealed
his true intentions.

Say, Anna...

I need you to do me a favour.
- Yes?

Laubich from Koblenz is back in town.
- Uh...

I could do big business with him.
He's got wine, and clocks.

It would be a something solid
for a change. - Well...

That's what people are after. He invited
us over tonight. - Go on your own.

He was rather untoward when
he danced with me that last time.

But that's what we'll have to exploit!

You go on your own... tell him I've got
other obligations...

Be nice to him. No need to be prudish.

Pension Nordwald...

Well, you see...

I'll admit that I've been
misjudging you entirely.

I thought you were much nicer than that.

Or shall I say more decent...
less filthy than you turn out to be.

I understand that you
misjudged me as well.

Just in the opposite direction.

I am actually much less...

Tell me, what gives you the right
to think of me that way!

Wow, that's going over my head.

After all, I have done so much for you.

Just this once, do something for me.

Yes, but not this...

My dear child, in these times...

you've seen and done a lot.
What's it to you at this point?

You're not exactly Joan of Arc.

What's going on?
- Indeed! Get out!

Get out or I'll kill myself!
- But angel... - Don't touch me!

I feel filthy from head to toe.

Get out, I can't stand the sight of you!

What's going on, Frau Gehrke?
Behave yourself!

That's quite impossible, you know.
- I'll be in the kitchen until he's gone.

I had already reached that
certain point back then.

You know, I don't have
a head for business.

I could have had everything I wanted.

Peter's business friends... one had a
hat store, as many hats as I fancied,

but afterwards, a bit of making out,
or more.

Shoes? Any kind you like! But let's
spend a 'merry evening' sometime.

Wonder if it's always been like this?

When you can't pay...

But who can pay these days?

I tried again in a different way,
via the employment office.

They sent me to a factory
where I canned fish paste.

I made 43 Mark a week.

Sometimes a little more,
sometimes a little less.

It was stupid work, but bearable once
I got used to the smell.

Our boss did business on the black
market, the factory was mostly a cover.

My colleagues were nice girls, without a
care, taking the times like the weather.

They mostly just worked to be eligible
for food stamps, often playing hooky,

which suited our boss just fine, because
he didn't have to pay full wages.

At the beginning I felt rather shy,
but then

I felt the warmth and comradeship,
which did me good, but still

They were so different from me,
constantly having new boyfriends,

changing and swapping them, going out
dancing, making out,

spending the whole day giggling. They
couldn't understand why I didn't join in.

But they respected it once I told them
about J?rgen and Moni.

They even decided to help me. Betty from
Berlin invited me to join them one day.

Come on Anni, do join us! Well, it's
maybe better that you know in advance...

you know Gustav, we've been going out
for half a year, his friend Otto, he's

such a nice guy, and alone now, because
his fianc?e Erna hooked up with a

British soldier, so now he's available,
and just the guy for you.

He's driving a truck,
pretty dashing and all.

With those huge shipments, there's
always some spoils. It's worth it!

Well, thanks a lot, but...

She meant well, but I was sick of
hearing 'It's worth it' and

'She's got a Brit' or a trucker or
a butcher or a baker, no...

All I could see was business.

And this so-called love:
Merely business.

What's up, Frau Gehrke? Don't you want
to work? - I don't feel well.

I feel sick, Frau M?ller.
Close the door.

Hey great, will you come along?

And then the cold winter came,
and I nearly snuffed it.

There was no fuel. You had to be a thief
or racketeer to keep warm.

There was no electric light
due to lack of coal.

Sometimes, the girls at work
would slip me something.

One day, Betty gave me some tea
and an American magazine.

She said I should see something
beautiful for a change.

I read it in bed and cried so much,
I thought I would die.

It wasn't envy, just the notion that
all of this would be lost to us forever

and that we had been sentenced to be
workhorses all our lives.

I took a mirror and looked at what
the cold had done to my skin,

without any access to skin care products
or even soap.

That's the worst thing of all.
I just wanted to die back then.

But it was far too cold
to make any kind of decision.

In the factory, it was warm at least.
And then spring came.

I spent my lunch break sitting
in the yard, basking in the sun,

pondering what it would take
for things to be different

and whether I would ever get out
of this grindhouse

or if it might be my fate to retire
as a respected forewoman here.

Once again, I was full of longing
for air and warmth.

And once again, a man approached me.
His name was Alfred.

Good morning.
What are you doing out here, then?

Why, do you know me?
- No. Or maybe I do.

You look like
'Nivea Oil protects and tans!'

Nivea Oil?

That was long ago.
- So you're in fish paste now?

You're mistaken, that's not me.
- I don't think so.

But who are you really,
that's the question.

I am no longer that person.
- None of us are.

Want to come along?

If I still were that person, I'd say:
Who do you think I am?

This is no place for you.
- And what about you?

What are you doing here?
- I had a fight with your boss.

That's my car over there.

If I can get you to come along with me
right now, my victory would be complete.

I'm not sure why,
but suddenly I felt feverish.

I got up and went back inside, washing
my hands like a surgeon about to operate.

I scrubbed off all the fish paste,
put on lipstick and

Frau M?ller called after me:
- Don't even think about coming back!

I ran across the yard, got into the car
and off we went.

Alfred took me home.

That's when I thought
things would turn out nicely.

He was the kind of man
I could have married.

He only told me later on
that he was already married.

But he took care of me. I don't know if
you realize what that means to a woman.

He gave me this armchair, this table,
the lamp, a battery radio,

this dress, underwear, soap and shoes.

He was in the import business, you know.
But, of course, they can't import

anything these days, so he went
into racketeering.

That's what everybody did, more or less.
But Alfred's conscience plagued him.

These are strange times. Either you're
at odds with the law, or you perish.

Some bighead once said, Germany shall
become 'a Nation of Pioneers'.

He should more accurately have said
'a Nation of Racketeers'!

That's why it ended badly for him.

One day he said things had gone awry
and he had to go away for a while.

And today I received a letter.

More of a note, actually.
-- Must dash. Farewell, A. --

It came in an envelope containing
a 1.000 Mark banknote.

Just for a moment,
I had the notion of being paid off.

But then, I felt rather
like a felled tree.

I didn't even know that
Alfred was already dead.

He had killed himself in his prison cell.

He just wasn't a racketeer at heart.
But his wife...

he had rather neglected her recently and

she thought it was my fault, that I was
some sort of expensive concubine.

Of course, if you measure it
in pre-war terms,

when a car cost as much
as shoes do nowadays...

In any case, I was alone once again.

Radio: But still, the masterful Wolfgang
Amadeus radiates that typical Viennese

gaiety and lust for life even here,
turning the social protest of the play

into a cheerful affirmation of life.
Here's the overture:

Yes?

Come in!

Frau Gehrke? These two gentlemen
wish to talk to you.

Frau Gehrke? - Yes. - Police.
Can I see your ID?

Is all this your own furniture?

No.

The lady doesn't own a thing here.
This is all my stuff.

- The radio?
- Yes.

How much did it cost?

We know where these came from.

7.000 Reichsmark, I reckon.
Your work certificate, please.

Southern Imports, I see. You never
actually worked there, did you?

It's Dr. Hartwig's firm.

So you admit that you know Dr. Hartwig?
- Of course.

Where is he, then?

Well...I'm sorry.
We have to search the place.

Go ahead.

The key, please.
- Those are Frau Puhlmann's things.

Well, I never! Your bread seems
to be buttered rather nicely.

And so well hidden.
Got any more of these?

You're not living off food stamps,
that's for sure.

Neither do you, by the looks of you.

Nobody can. But your business and ours,
that's still a world of difference.

The cat was out of the bag. Now I knew
what I was in the eyes of the world.

They took the pathetic cans and told me
to come to the station the next morning.

Frau Puhlmann witnessed everything,
of course.

I could tell she could hardly wait
to chuck me out after they had left.

But things turned out quite differently.

Because when just about to leave,
one of the policemen turned back to me.

Have a nice day. - By the way,
Frau Gehrke, Dr. Hartwig is dead.

Finished himself off in his cell.
Just so you know what you've done.

Frau Gehrke... oh, Frau Gehrke!

No, it's not your fault. Not yours.

You poor woman. You lost everything,
and now this on top of it.

Frau Gehrke... you have my sympathy.
- Leave me alone, please.

I don't need your pity.
It disgusts me.

There's nothing that disgusts me more
than people feeling sorry for themselves

instead of drawing the consequences.

And I certainly will.

I have no one left.

And I don't need anybody anymore.

I'm just taking away other people's
space and food.

Let the fish feast on me!

At least I'll be of some use.
Now, listen!

I've never told this to anyone before.

And I wish to thank you.

I'm glad that I've finally
got it out of my system.

Because, after all, who can you tell?

Those who don't know won't believe you,
and those who've seen worse won't care.

But... you've been standing at the
water's edge just like me and...

...I had the feeling...

...well, anyhow... I'm grateful to you.

I'm grateful to you, too.

I made a big mistake, you see,
and you will say, it's typically male,

I thought too much about myself,
my comrades, those in the same position.

You know, when I say 'we',
it sounds a bit fanciful,

we young men, the Youth,
the future of Germany,

All we really want is just one thing:
We don't want to be lied to anymore.

This whole disaster, all born from lies.

Illusions, lies, propaganda...

But the biggest liar is faith.
Faith in something you can't prove.

The world keeps on lying...

..thank you...it's always been this way.

Maybe human beings are just
designed like that.

They burn people at the stake
in the name of charity

and fight wars in order to
preserve peace,

install dictatorships
in the name of freedom and...

all well and good, when it's raining,
I'll take an umbrella if I've got one,

and if lightning should strike me,
I'm simply shit out of luck, but

we don't have to lie to ourselves.

We should never try to fool ourselves,
and we don't have to, either.

Let's despise those who do.

And let's hate those who demand it of us.

I've been asking for the truth, and
nobody gave me an honest answer.

They all have an agenda, a policy,
want to educate or influence you.

I have examined myself,
and I feel guilty.

I have murdered,
and I have been murdered. Yes.

The world is full of murder,
and people don't think twice about it.

But when I, as a sergeant
in Voronezh,

ordered Private Bauer to hold our
position to the last breath,

the result was that Bauer lost his leg
and died from the infection.

Of course, I was just following orders.
But it was me who chose this man Bauer.

That was my responsibility.

And who will take it off me?
Nobody.

I have 12 people on my conscience.

And in Berlin...

...which was my first station,
my colonel still lives there...

...so I paid him a visit,
coming straight back from Russia.

All those ruins in Berlin made me dizzy.

My colonel lives in Zehlendorf.

It was already evening.

I was unsure whether to ring the bell.
Hadn't seen light in a window for years.

Or curtains, for that matter.
It was like Christmas.

But the colonel was the one
who had given me that order,

who had given me that responsibility.

Now I had to return that responsibility.

That's why, in Russia, I couldn't sleep,
why I broke down and they sent me home.

Colonel? - Yes?
- There's someone here to see you.

Not while we're at the dinner table.
Tell him to come back tomorrow.

He's one of your regiment.
Says he just returned from Russia.

You don't say?
Is it an officer?

Let him come in.

Get another plate.
He can eat with us.

What can I do for you?

Who are you, anyway? - Sergeant
Beckmann, Colonel! Good evening.

Now listen here, is the matter really
that pressing? - Yes, Colonel!

I need to know if I have to drown myself
tonight or not. - Now, now...

...don't you talk such unmanly nonsense.

You're a sergeant, after all.

That's something. - No, Colonel.
- What do you mean, no?

You're wearing a uniform, aren't you?
- Yes, for six years, but...

wearing a postman's uniform for six
years wouldn't make me a postman.

Papa, I think he might be hungry.
He keeps glancing at the table.

Hungry? Would you like something to eat?

I'm just tired, Colonel.
- I see.

Now, be honest,

you're one of those who are
tired by profession, hm?

A little soft, hm?
- Yes, Colonel.

A very tired soldier, Colonel.
That's why I came to see you.

I know you can help me. I want to be
able to sleep again, Colonel.

Only to sleep. Only to slumber.
A nice, deep snooze.

Georg, come over here...
I'm afraid of that guy.

I reckon that fellow is a little fresh.

Papa, help him already, he looks so sad.
- Don't worry, I know those types from

the regiment. Needs a bit of stern
handling, that's all.

Pull yourself together, now!

Tell me what you want! And make it
short, clear and precise, if you please!

Yes, Colonel!
Short. Clear. Precise!

I can't sleep at night, Colonel.

Each night I'm woken by a terrible
scream that I hear in my dreams.

And do you know who that is screaming?

Tell me. - It's me, Colonel, it's me.
Funny, huh?

And then I can't go back to sleep.
That's why I'm so tired.

Listen, I think he might be ill.
- A case for a doctor, it seems.

Run that by me again, my boy.
You are woken by that dream, you say?

No, by the scream, not by the dream.

By my scream.
- I see.

But it's your dream that
makes you scream, isn't it?

Yes, it is, Colonel.
If I may tell you about it...

There is a man playing a xylophone.

He's playing some manic rhythm.

It's making him sweat terribly.

Sweat running down
the legs of his trousers.

Only, it's not sweat at all, it's blood!

That's what makes him
look like a general.

Like a bloody, sweaty general.

You don't say.
- Yes. Funny, huh?

The general looks old and like a veteran
of many battles. He lost both his arms.

He's playing with long, thin prosthetics.

They look like the handles of hand
grenades. Wooden, with a metal ring.

You don't say.

That's funny... indeed.

And so, the general is standing there,

beating out a march
with his prosthetic arms.

'Prussia's Glory'!
'Entry of the Gladiators'!

and 'Old Comrades'!
Colonel, you do know 'Old Comrades'?

And here they come!
They are marching in!

The Gladiators!
The Old Comrades!

Now they arise from their mass graves!

Now they surface from the oceans!

From the steppes, the streets,
the woods they are approaching.

From the ruins and the bogs.

In unfathomable numbers.

In unfathomable pain.

Parade...

Halt!

Turn right!

At ease!

Sergeant Beckmann!
- Here!

Sergeant Beckmann!

You will take the responsibility!

Head count!
- Yes, General!

Attention everybody!
Head count!

Head count!

Head count!

Make them do 50 knee-bends!
- Yes, General!

50 knee-bends!
First knee-bend!

Bend the kneeeees!

Get up!
Second one!

Bend the kneeeees!

Up! Third one!

Bend the kneeeees!

Up!

Number four!

Bend the kneeeees!

Mutiny... mutiny...

mutiny... mutiny...

Sergeant Beckmann!

Sergeant Beckmann!

Sergeant Beckmann!

Sergeant Beckmann!

And that's when I wake up.

And I can't go back to sleep.

Because I did have the responsibility.

And that's why I came to you, Colonel.
I want to sleep again, finally.

Please, Colonel, let me sleep again.
- But what do you expect from me?

I'm returning it to you.
- What?

The responsibility.
I'm returning it to you.

Or had you forgotten about it?

On the 14th of February, at Gorodok?

It was minus 42 degrees,
and you came to our camp.

And you said 'Sergeant Beckmann!',
and I replied 'Here!'

And as your breath froze
on your fur collar,

I remember it well, you said
'Sergeant Beckmann,

I'm handing you the responsibility
for those 20 men.

You will explore the woods to the north
and, if possible, make a few prisoners.

Understood?'
Yes sir, I said.

Then we set out exploring.

I had the responsibility. And when we
came back to camp, 11 men were missing.

And I had the responsibility.
That's all, Colonel.

But now, the war is over.
We want to sleep again.

Now I'm giving the responsibility
back to you.

I don't want it anymore.
I'm handing it back to you.

But my dear Beckmann,
what sort of nonsense is this?

Those, er, those were just orders.

It wasn't meant like that.

But surely it must
have been meant like that.

What else could responsibility mean?
And who should I be responsible to?

Somebody, somewhere must answer
to our responsibility.

The dead won't answer.

God won't answer.
But the living...

they have questions.
And they ask them every night.

As I lie awake,
they come and ask me.

They gather around my bed and ask.

The women, Colonel.
Sad, mourning women.

And children, Colonel.
Many little children.

And they whisper from the darkness:
'Sergeant Beckmann...

...where is my father?

Sergeant Beckmann,
where is my husband?

Sergeant Beckmann,
where is my son?

Where is my brother,
Sergeant Beckmann?

Where is my fianc?,
Sergeant Beckmann?

Sergeant Beckmann...

...where...

...where...

where?'

And so they whisper until dawn.

It's only 11 women, Colonel.

Only 11 in my case.

How many in yours?

One thousand?

Two thousand?

Do you sleep well, Colonel?

Then you won't mind being responsible
for my 11 as well.

Then I could finally sleep again.

Colonel, if you'd be so kind as to take
it back, that responsibility.

Then I could finally sleep,
my soul at peace.

Peace of mind...

yes, that's what it was...

Peace of mind.

And then, sleep.

Well, my dear Beckmann,
I don't know what to say.

I don't know, I just don't know.

Maybe you're a closet pacifist, hm?

A little destructive, maybe?

But, my dear fellow,

didn't you mention that he was
quite a funny musician, that general?

I believe you are a bit of a jester,
am I right?

You're having me on, my good chap,
and it's delightful, most delightful!

No, really! I guess you are
some kind of poet, right?

Well, I never... and this cryptic, black
sense of humour of yours,

you know, that thing about
the drumming general,

and then, the mutiny of the skulls,

and those knee-bends, simply divine!

Knee-bends accompanied by xylophones!

You'll have to expand this routine!
You could make a lot of money with this.

It could be a really funny act.
You could be on stage with this.

The way you stand there
already cracks me up.

These idiotic glasses,
that weird, fucked-up haircut,

it's hilarious!
Mankind will burst laughing!

Oh my God!

Must admit that at first I didn't
catch on it was an act.

For a moment there, I really thought
you were a little touched in the head.

But really, you've made our
evening so delightful,

we should repay you in kind.

You know what? Have something to eat,
my dear boy!

But drop by in the kitchen first,
have them give you some hot water,

then you can wash up and
make yourself look a little more human.

Meanwhile, I'll pick out
one of my old suits.

You can put your rags in the trash
and I'll provide a new outfit for you.

Come on, don't be shy.
You're most welcome.

First of all, try to become human again,
my good chap.

Just turn yourself into
a human being again.

A human being?

Become human?

You want me to become
a human being?

What do you think you are?

Human beings?

Really?

You are human?

I wanted to kill him then and there,
and very nearly did.

But the terrible thing is
that people mean well.

It's just that what they think is good
is, in fact, rotten.

That's why it's pointless trying to
explain anything to them.

It's just hopeless.

And there you are, all alone,
right in the middle of them.

I can't remember how I got
out of there at all.

I felt like I had been murdered.
And I could have murdered myself.

But I wanted to get home, and

when that turned out to be nothing,
I roamed the streets at night

considering what sense it made
to remain alive,

when I happened to pass by a cabaret.

'The Carousel of Time'.

And I remembered the colonel, how he had
laughed and said I should be on stage.

Besides, I had read some papers and
thought I knew about youth culture.

Most of all, I didn't give a damn
anymore, so I thought I'd have a go.

Can't be any worse than front theatre.

Can I help you? - I'd like to see Herr
Engelbrecht. - What about?

A private matter. Have just returned
from Russia. - He's downstairs.

Is that any good? If it's methanol, I'll
go blind. - Got a glass?

I have little more than 20 Mark left.
Fritz, can you pay? Got 120?

You've come from Russia, haven't you?
- Yesterday. - Where did they snatch you?

Voronezh. - I was there in '41.
Anything still upright there now?

Not much. - We were always good at
blowing things up. - Pass the liquor.

What did Ivan make you do?
- Build tanks. - You don't say.

What kind of tanks?

Always the same ones.

Do they still make the 88s?
Do they finally have radio?

One or two motors?
- Have another one.

With a bit of liquor inside,
the world looks quite different.

Keep it. Three years in Stakhanov...

You seem to be doing well.
- We stick together, the old comrades.

Got another bottle?

Someone should write a PhD thesis
on the role of alcohol in warfare.

All of a sudden, I became
immensely courageous,

and the cabaret director thought
he was talking to a colleague.

Excellent.

Especially in the arts,
we need young people again

who actively face today's problems.

Courageous, level-headed,
and revolutionary.

We need another mind like Schiller's,
who wrote his 'R?uber' at the age of 20.

Unromantic and realistic,
with a hands-on attitude,

able to face the dark aspects of life
with an unflinching eye.

Unsentimental, objective and with a
sense of superiority.

Pardon me, need to take a few notes.
Be right with you.

A generation that embraces
the world as it is,

that stands for truthfulness,
has plans, has ideas,

not that they have to be very deep,
God forbid!

Nothing too precious, refined or mellow.
What we want is a scream!

A scream from the heart!
What we lack is an avant-garde

to present the grey, living,
suffering face of our time.

And speaking of face,
what's up with the weird glasses?

They're my gas mask glasses.
Designed to spot and beat the enemy,

even when wearing the gas mask.

And you really want to go on stage
wearing these?

You look like a ghost
from the netherworld.

People come here to enjoy art, not to
face the ghosts of war. That's not on.

We have to offer them something in a
lighter vein. Think positive!

Be optimistic, my friend.

Think Goethe! Mozart! Schmeling!
Shirley Temple! - Well,...

of course I can't compete with those.
- Wait a minute, now... Beckmann...?

The name doesn't ring any bells at all.
Have you been using a pseudonym?

Oh no, I'm totally new to this.
Have been performing for friends, mostly.

It always went down well. But I'm really
a beginner in this profession.

What? You're a newbie?

Look here, pal, it's not as simple as
that. We are the best cabaret in town.

Go out and learn. Test yourself.

The audience here demands
well-known names.

What have you done so far, then?
- Nothing. War.

I hungered, I was freezing,
I shot my gun. War.

But, you see, what does this
even amount to, war?

You should be fighting on the
battlefield of life, my friend.

Make a name for yourself.
Then we'll be happy to present you.

But where should I start? Even beginners
have to start somewhere.

And battlefields I know from Russia.

It wasn't me who sent you to Russia.

No, of course.
Nobody sent us.

We all went of our own accord.

And some remained there
of their own accord.

We all have to start somewhere.

Very well, then, start! Go ahead!

I'm giving you a chance now, my friend.

There's still a few customers left.
Show your stuff!

Come on! - What? You want me to...
right now? - Yes.

Convince me! Go ahead and
convince the audience!

Ladies and Gentlemen,
we have a surprise!

We offer you a little night cabaret
at no extra charge.

Young talent presents itself -
the kind of youth that is our future

and the future of our art. During the
war, our youth fought at the front,

and the 'Carousel of Time', with its
hand on the pulse of the present,

lead this youth back
to a front of peace,

without make-up, realistic,
simply the way it has returned.

Youth... from the front to the front.

Merely a name for now, but soon to be
a household name.... Beckmann!

For heaven's sake!

That one is for real!

Ladies and Gentlemen,

you're probably startled to
see me like this.

Guess you'd prefer
a pretty girl up here.

And right you are!

Who wants to sit in a cabaret,
in these terrible times,

and listen to the same old misery,
only this time in rhyme?

Shall we come here to mourn the dead,
when Death is already creeping up on us?

Maybe tomorrow, someone will
blow up the whole earth!

Next week, maybe they'll invent a poison
that kills everybody in seven seconds.

I have this weird feeling that maybe

we should start shopping for
another planet sometime soon.

Your health!

If you have liquor,
and a bed, and a girl,

go ahead and dream your last dream!
Tomorrow, it might be too late.

Those who have liquor are saved!
Your health! Music!

Step aside...

Courageous little soldier's wife

I remember the song all too well

That sweet, beautiful song.

Well, in reality, it kinda sucked.

And a man was laughing.
And I was screaming.

And the fog of the night
covered up everything.

Only the moon is still grinning
through a hole in the curtains.

When I came home in the morning,
I found my bed occupied.

The fact that I didn't take my own life
filled me with terror.

And the world was laughing.
And I was screaming.

And the fog of the night
covered up everything.

Only the moon is still grinning
through a hole in the curtains.

And in the midnight hour,
I found myself a new girl.

She never mentioned Germany once.

And Germany never asked about us.

The night was short, and morning came.

Someone was standing at her door.

He had a stiff leg, it was her husband,
and she wasn't to blame at all.

And the world was laughing.
And I was screaming.

And the fog of the night
covered up everything.

Only the moon is still grinning
through a hole in the curtains.

Now I'm roaming the streets again

and that song keeps playing in my head

That song about the wife
That song about the wife

About that neat little soldier's wife.

Thank you very much.

Waiter, the bill, please!

Music, quick!

Well, that wasn't too bad.
Really, not too bad at all.

Quite a feat for a beginner, but

there isn't quite enough spirit in it,

it lacks a bit of that discreet,
but spicy erotic appeal

that a song about adultery
really demands.

The audience wants to be
tickled, not pinched.

But it goes without saying that
at your age, you lack that certain

cheerful serenity, that inner calm.
Just consider our old master, Goethe.

Goethe followed his Duke into battle,
and wrote an operetta at the campfire.

An operetta?
- You see, that is true genius.

And that is what defines
the great distance between you two.

There is a distance, all right.
- So let's not rush things.

Art needs to mature.

Art, schmart, this is the truth!
- You see?

That's what it is: Truth.

But truth has nothing to do with art.
- No?

Truth won't get you far.

You'll just make yourself unpopular.

What would the world come to
if everybody told the truth?

Who cares about the truth
nowadays? Tell me who?

These are the facts
you should never forget.

Well... I do see your point.
Thanks so much.

Those are the facts, all right.

Once again, I found myself on the
outside. But I still had the liquor.

I went to a bunker where someone
traded a few sips for cigarettes.

I felt so miserable, wishing I was still
a little boy and could run home to mama.

And only then did I remember my mother.
She hadn't crossed my mind at all.

I felt ashamed that I had been
too overwhelmed to think of her.

Then again, I didn't want her
to see me this way.

So, the next morning, I traded
a cigarette for a shave

and started walking towards where
my parents used to live.

And to my surprise,
the house was still intact.

I was so terribly hungry, and tired.

I wish I could make you see
what my mother was like.

I used to be quite cheerful back then,

we used to spend our nights
making music, singing songs.

I came home late
and had to get up early.

On the stairwell, I took off my shoes
so as not to disturb my parents.

Very quietly, I headed straight to the
kitchen. I was hungry, of course!

And then my mother would show up.

No matter how quiet I tried to be,
she would hear me.

And while I would grope for food in the
dark kitchen, the light would come on.

And there she would be,
always barefoot on that cold tile floor.

She would squint her eyes
due to the sudden bright light.

Of course, she had already been asleep.
- Out late again...

That's what she used to say.
'Out late again'. Nothing else.

Then, she would cook me dinner
and watch me eat.

She would rub her feet, cold from
the tiles, against each other.

She never wore shoes at night.
She'd keep me company until I was done.

And later, I could hear her cleaning up,

after I had already switched
the lights off in my room.

I thought it would always be like this.

It all just seemed so natural.

Now I know that it was,
in fact, paradise.

Paradise for real.

That's why, when I found the house
intact, I ran up the stairs

and rang the bell without a second
glance, expecting my mother to answer.

Can I help you?

Well...hello. - Yes?
- Are my parents at home?

Who are you, then?
- My name is Beckmann.

I was born here. This is our flat.
- That's not so. It's our flat.

You may have been born here,
I don't care.

But it's not your flat.
It belongs to us.

But what happened to my parents?
They have to be somewhere. - Right...

As far as I know, Chapel Five.

Chapel Five? What Chapel Five?

Well, Chapel Five, in Ohlsdorf.

You don't know what Ohlsdorf is?

The burial grounds.

Get it? That's their address now.

Moved, emigrated, partie...

You say you didn't know?

What are they doing there?

Are they dead?

How would I know? I've been in
Siberia for three years.

How could they have died?
The house is still intact!

You're a strange one.
Quite the funny son.

Then again... Siberia...

not that funny after all. You see, the
old Beckmanns couldn't take it anymore.

They had wasted their energies
on the Third Reich.

Your father was a die-hard Nazi.
You knew that, didn't you?

Once those Brown Boys had gone,
they came and probed him a little.

And they found something rotten.

Rotten to the core, you might say.

Go on already,
what happened to my father?

They sacked him.
No pension, of course.

And were about to kick him out
of the flat. So the outlook was bleak.

The old folks were at
the end of their tether.

So they decided to denazify themselves.
Once and for all.

An almost admirable consistency,
drawing these consequences.

I don't get it... what did they do?
- Denazify themselves.

You haven't heard the word before,
well... it's a manner of speaking.

One morning, they found them both
lying on the kitchen floor.

Stiff and blue.

I can't stand it, can't stand it,
can't stand it.

You see, at that point, I'd had enough.
- You couldn't go on.

Not only because of the pain,
and my conscience,

but mainly because it doesn't
make any sense.

Three dead, or two dead, who cares
about small fry these days?

Yesterday, it may have been 3.000.
The day before that, 100.000.

Tomorrow, 4.000.
Or six million.

Emigrated to the mass graves
of the world.

And who will listen? No one!

No human ear down here,
no divine ear up above.

God is asleep!

And we...

We just keep on living.

So do something about it.

You're a man, after all.

So here's a task for you.

Just think about how things used to be.

Not too long ago, the people in
Germany couldn't find sleep

because a child had been abducted
in America. - Used to be?

Back when exactly?
Ten thousand years ago?

Nowadays, only seven-figure
body counts will cut it.

People don't even get upset.
They sleep instead.

Deeply and soundly.
If they have a bed left, that is.

And they are constantly being fed
figures much too high to really digest

and these figures represent bodies.

Death by grenade, by shrapnel, by bomb,

Death on the seas, from desperation,
from the cold, from hunger,

People lost, displaced, or missing.

These figures have more digits
than we have fingers to count.

But still, Earth remains the same.

Summer and winter.

Frost and heat.

Sowing and harvesting.

Day and night.
- I don't believe it.

It's not the same Earth at all.

Come next year, I'll grow fangs,
some fur and claws!

Will we still walk on two legs?

Can we still call this 'living'?

This life... what the hell for?

For whom? For what?

For yourself...

For life itself.

Life has its ups and downs.

There are dark hours and sunny ones.

No need to despair because
the dark hours seem to linger.

Not for a man, anyway.

Still, though...

Just take a look at us.
Are we still women?

Outnumbering the men by far.
No longer women, just numbers.

Required for labour, official duties,
the women's battalion.

And if you don't like those, you have to
sell yourself, legally or otherwise.

But you...
You have a task to do.

Make a difference!
Change the world!

I am hungry. I am cold. I am tired.

I can't go on.

But, of course, that's what we came
here for.

We're trying to make the world a better
place and forget dinner over it.

Please forgive me.

Don't get up.

I'll fix you some dinner in the kitchen.

Meanwhile, try to get some sleep.
I'll be right back.

Thank you.

I'll say, you've been...
You've been rather noisy, Frau Gehrke.

Good thing the others have their radios
on, otherwise they'd have heard it, too.

Brought home a new boyfriend again?
- Boyfriend? Again? I resent that!

Just let me quickly fix some dinner.
I still have some... - Frau Gehrke!

This is my allotted time!
That oven is mine until nine o'clock!

I'm always last in line as it is.

And besides, we'll get confused about
the gas bill. - Will you let me cook?

I have a dead-tired, half-starved
man to look after.

You've got a nerve to boss me around!
You of all people, if you get my drift.

Please keep your voice down!
- But who raised their voice here first?

I just wanted to get some wool from my
cupboard and you wouldn't let me.

One more word out of you, and I'll go to
the police. Then you'll lose this flat.

And now I've nearly burnt my dinner,
all because of you!

Who is the guy you brought here, anyway?
Chances are he'll ransack the flat!

Besides all that, Frau Gehrke,
it is against common decency.

My husband was in management,
and I won't have people say...

Damn this electricity curfew!

And now, I'll go to my cupboard to get
my wool, and check out that fellow.

How come he's so tired, anyway?

Do whatever you must but
do it quietly. Please!

Frau Gehrke...

...here's a little extra something.

An egg? Wherever did you get that?

I couldn't possibly accept this.

Frau Gehrke...

...he's a returnee, isn't he?

From Russia?

Just imagine what he must
have gone through.

He told me that he's screaming in his
sleep sometimes. Don't be alarmed.

He has terrible dreams, Frau Puhlmann.

No... no...

Jacket...

A giant's... jacket...

...a giant...

...I'm drowning...

...I'm drowning...

...I'm drowning...

Please don't...

...please...

...keep it on.

Don't think that I'm trying
to make fun of you.

You look so wonderfully sad.

You poor, grey ghost.

I could weep when you
look at me like that,

with those inconsolable eyes.

Say something...

...then I won't feel so lonely.

Can't you feel this terrible silence?

Come...

...sit down right next to me.

Maybe tomorrow,
we'll already be in the water.

Quiet as mice and oh so cold.

But today, we are still warm.

One last time, tonight...

...you.

It's weighing me down.

I am drowning.

Maybe it's just because
I can't see properly.

But it's strangling me.

What is it, dear?

What's bothering you?

I'm going mad. Softly and quietly mad.

Listen! Someone's coming.
Can't you hear it?

Tick... tock...

Tick... tock...

There's a man approaching.
Can't you see him?

A tall one, some kind of giant.
He's getting closer!

Look! Look!

What are you doing here, you...

Wearing my clothes,
taking up my space.

And with my wife!

Only yesterday, I said the same thing to
the man who was with my wife.

Come nearer, let me see your face.

Right up close.

Beckmann.

Yes.

I didn't expect you to remember me.

Private Bauer!

You'll guard this post
to your last breath!

Beckmann...

Beckmann...

Beckmann.

Cut it out! Stop saying that name!
I don't want to be Beckmann anymore!

I don't want to!
I don't want to be anymore!

No! No!
- Beckmann...

No! No!
- Beckmann...

Everything's fine.

Now that I am dead.

No sensations anymore.

This is what heaven must be like.

No more sensations.

And here comes an old man already,
looking like the Good Lord himself.

Hello, old man.

Are you God?

Indeed, I am the Good Lord, my boy.

My poor, poor boy.

So when exactly are you Good then,
Good Lord?

Were you Good when eleven of my
men went missing?

Or were you Good when you sent a plane

and had my little boy torn apart
by a bomb?

Was that your Goodness?

When I made the sky,
birds were flying in it,

and, on occasion, a star
would be falling down from it.

You have changed it, my boy!

But it was you that has made us
the way we are.

I came to regret that once before.

Remember Noah?

Beware! Beware all of you!

You look different all of a sudden.

I appear like people need me to look.

To all children, I am the Good Lord.

Maybe you have suddenly become a man.

What is it that you want from me?

I want you to help me.

Thought I already did.

Hadn't you noticed?

God's help... Nonsense!
Some bullshit cooked up by priests!

I hate you!

I stopped loving you a long time ago.
And now, I no longer fear you, either.

Get lost! You're spoiling my death.

My poor boy...

Once you understand,
you will be grateful to me.

Understand? Pah!

God can't help me. Or won't help me.

Only Death can.

But will he?
- What is it?

You called for me?
- You are Death?

In a street sweeper costume?

Going with the times, you know.

Yesterday a general, before that hood
and scythe, today it's street sweeper!

Death has become mundane these days.

No salute. No bells ringing.

No eulogy. No monuments.

All they get is my broom
sweeping them into the rubble.

Where are you going, Death?
Don't forget me!

I never forget anyone!

When their time comes,
I never forget!

Do you expect me to just lie here
as human rubble?

Despised and spat at...

Not even despised.
They just walk right past me.

They walk right past my corpse.

They keep talking and walking
right past my corpse.

Hey! You guys!
Can't you see me?

You! Everybody!
Can't you see me at all?

No one. Nobody stops.

But look, here comes my wife.
She's a good person.

Oh no, she's with her boyfriend.

But what did I have to stay
three years in Siberia for?

It's all my fault.

Yes... She was a good person.

Wonder if she still is...

Listen, I'm dead! Lisa!

You shouldn't have hooked up with
that guy. You were all I had!

You're not even listening to me!
Come on! Look at me!

You used to be my wife. Look at me!

After all, it was you who killed me.
The least you could do is look at me!

You're not listening to me!
Why don't you listen?

Darling!

Darling!

Anna!

I've found you, then.

I've been looking all over the world.

Why me?

Why?

Because I love you.

Come on home with me.

Is it true, you've been looking for me?

For you, all this time.

Only for you.

All this time, for you.

Oh, my love!
I've been so lonely.

All around me, it was so dark and cold.

Now we'll be together.

Walking down the dark streets of life,
right up close. - Right up close.

Right up close.

Oh my God... now..

...now...

Listen, my love!

It's the sound of worms
digging through a coffin.

I must leave.

I must leave.

Kiss me one last time.

Beckmann!

You're still alive, Beckmann?

But you're guilty of murder.

And still, you're clinging to life?

Where am I?

My God...

What is this place?

You're at my place.

Your place?

Who are you?

Who do you think? It was you who jumped
in the water near St. Pauli!

The river Elbe!

Right! It's me, the river Elbe.

What's your age, then, old man?

Twenty-five.

Plus a thousand Siberian nights.

Add the hunger.

The defective leg.

I can't take it anymore.

Do you understand?

Your life isn't worth shit to me.

Throw this little slimeball
back on land.

He just promised me
to have another go at it.

Wait, but... what's the use?
For whom? For what?

Don't leave me alone here!

Why has everyone forsaken me?

Why do you all remain silent? Why?

Will no one answer at all?

Will no one answer?

Won't anybody, anyone answer?

Herr Beckmann!

Had a bad dream?

Anna!

I... can't see... who is...

Here, your glasses.

Anna.

Anna Gehrke.

Frau Gehrke.

Have I frightened you?

No, that's alright.
Come and sit down, dinner's ready.

Thank you, Frau Puhlmann.
- You're welcome.

The grease is courtesy of Alfred.

And the egg, Frau Puhlmann.

The beer is awful.

Got it from the neighbours.

The potatoes are my own contribution.
Ditto the salt, and the fish paste.

I canned it myself!

And afterwards,
get a good night's sleep!

You can have my bed.

Frau Puhlmann doesn't mind.

So when I'll wake up tomorrow morning,

or at midday, more likely,

I guess you will be gone.

But I'll promise you one thing. In that
case, I'll jump in after you.

And then I'll have
the strength to do it.

So you're handing me the responsibility.

Then I'll promise you something, too,
Herr Beckmann.

Tonight, I will sleep on
Frau Puhlmann's sofa.

And if I should wake up tomorrow

only to find you have gone,
taking a dive in the Elbe,

I won't even bother making
my way down there. Instead...

There'll be a household accident
right here, cleaning windows.

So you're making me responsible for you?

Now, that's a fine...

We are both in the dumps.

But you've got someone now,
and so do I.

We don't need to make
the world a better place.

Let's rather start with ourselves.

I will help you,

and you will help me.

Oh, I see.

Now I understand.

Are you praying?

No, no.

I am grateful to you.

Grateful.

Grateful for you.