Bye Bye Germany (2017) - full transcript

BYE-BYE GERMANY

THIS IS A TRUE STORY.

AND WHAT ISN'T ENTIRELY TRUE
IS NEVERTHELESS CORRECT.

What's this mean, “not approved”?

- It means not approved, Mr. Bermann.
- I'm Jewish. All Jews get a license.

There were irregularities in your case.

Irregularities? I was always on time
in the concentration camp.

I'm not allowed to disclose that.
There will be an inquiry soon.

- An inquiry?
- Your file is at the CIC.

- And what is that?
- The Counterintelligence Corps.

An Army investigation department.



- Very comforting.
- You'll hear from them soon.

Yes.

Where the sun don't shine!

Motek!

No dog can read that!

Come on.

Where did you leave Marian?

1946 FRANKFURT AM MAIN
US DISPLACED PERSONS CAMP

- Hello.
- Hello.

Hello.

Hello.

- Later, later.
- Motek!

- You found Motek!
- Marian!

How many times have I told you
to look after him?



- He always runs off. What can I do?
- Chop off another leg.

Pardon me. I'm very sorry.

That dog's meshuga.

No, no, no. it's all right.

Everyone is meshuga nowadays.

- Allow me. Holzmann.
- Bermann. David Bermann.

Really? So you're the famed Bermann?

The things people say.

Look who's coming!

You know him?

Yes, despite my best efforts.

Jankel Lubliner.

Started out as a petty ganef.

He'll control half the black market soon.

Buchenwald Camp was his university.

He swore he'd take revenge on me.

We had a little matter with...

with a fräulein.

Over a half million Jews
who survived the concentration camps...

are now in displaced persons camps
in the American occupation zone.

An eminent visitor
recently stopped in Frankfurt.

Eleanor Roosevelt inspected
the DP camp in Zeilsheim.

The former American president's widow
saw for herself

how people here are getting
essential provisions and medical care.

They are learning
English and Hebrew to prepare

for emigration
to the United States or Palestine.

US authorities predict that by 1950,
all West German Jews...

Will have left!

Always the same old crap!

- Show's over!
- Emil Verständig.

He's a terrible projectionist,
but he's a top-notch salesman.

He was a trainee
at my parents' linen store in the '20s.

Thank you.

- And where did he hibernate?
- In Shanghai.

- Shanghai, China?
- No, Bavaria.

- He doesn't talk about it. Good night!
- Night, Bermann.

Who does talk about it?

- Here, gentlemen.
- Thanks.

- Fajnbrot, this glass isn't clean.
- You should've ordered a clean one.

- You have a way with customers.
- Just make sure you get it started.

Get what started, if I may ask?

Nothing. A business, but the Yanks
are making trouble about the license.

What's so hard?
Every one of us gets a license, right?

And you?

What are your plans?

I...

I'm going to America.

Oh, yes. Everyone wants to go to America.

- Have you got the money?
- A little bit.

And how much is a little bit?

600. Dollars!

- 1,200 marks.
- Yes.

- That won't even get you on the ship.
- What?

I'll tell you what we'll do, Holzmann.

You get the license,
and I'll take you on as a partner.

We'll turn your little bit
into a lot of cash.

Mr. Bermann,
I told you I'm not staying here.

You think I want to stay?
No one wants to stay.

But do you want to go to America
as a poor devil?

No, I have a cousin in New York.

He'll say, “Mazel tov! Spend my money!”

How much do you think
a guy needs for over there?

- Maybe 25 grand.
- 25...

- What?
- At least. You have to survive.

Plus the trip and some start-up cash.

Let me ask you this.

What do Germans need most right now?

Linens.

- Linens?
- Yes. We'll open a linen business.

Trust me. I'm from a schmatte dynasty.

I get most of the goods
on commission or exchange.

I got a warehouse, six months rent-free,
and a guy who'll rent us cars.

- For a few marks.
- Knock on wood, but I'm no peddler.

You don't need to peddle.
I'll go out, with my people.

In the beginning
we'll have four, maybe five salesmen.

You'll stay in the office.

As...

- As the boss.
- As the boss? Me?

Bermann, I'm no salesman. I'm no boss.

- I'm a shoemaker.
- But you look like a boss.

Hey, guys, I'm in.

With him and Verständig...

that makes four of us.

I admit, he's no genius, but...

He's a very good person.

Where was he in the war, your Fajnbrot?

Plaszów.

People say he was saved
by a German named Schindler.

A German? And you believe that?

- There he is again, that...
- Motek!

I said stay with Marian
and make sure no Germans come in.

- He's a German himself.
- But never a Nazi!

I know the family. Respectable dogs.

Beat it! This is a restaurant!

Then what?

Then Europe was over and I went
from Marseille over to Algeria.

- Joined the French Foreign Legion.
- You don't say!

Yes, they had a Jewish brigade there.

- Did you fight there too?
- I sure did.

I fought hemorrhoids from riding camels.

So?

What's up? Are you in?

Yes, I'm in.

- Sorry. My heart.
- Sit down.

Sit. Sit.

It's from the war. From the war.

The excitement.

And now people usually say,
“Would you like a glass of water?”

And just like that I'm in their house.

- He had me convinced.
- Thanks.

Actually, you know, I was...

an actor.

I can also do strokes.

- No! Thank you.
- You're welcome.

- You know Krautberg?
- Krautberg?

What trick does he use?

None at all. He's talentless.

But he can make the Germans feel guilty.

Germans feel guilty?

Gentlemen,

we are peddlers.

And peddling...

Peddling is not just selling something.

Peddling is an art.

It isn't about
sticking a foot in the door.

Anyone can solicit.

It's the show that counts.

“La grande opera!”

In the end, your customers should...

In the end, your customers
should basically kneel down and beg

to be allowed to buy from you.

And don't forget.

You can't look
like you're desperate for it.

- People can sniff out desperation.
- The Germans are distrustful anyway.

- And especially when Jews show up.
- Yes.

No need to open your fly
and show them your schmock.

Fajnbrot doesn't need to show his schmock.

His nose says it all.

- Go on, have a laugh.
- Gentlemen. Hats on, please.

One moment.

Now you have to slip a 50-dollar bribe
into the customs papers.

Those French shmucks.

Gentlemen.

And never forget...

Hitler is dead,

but we're still alive.

- Your tires have no tread.
- Better than no tires.

4 Kirchgasse.

This must be it.

All right.

“Suddenly and unexpectedly,
Senior Teacher Dr. Herbert Geder, 55.

In deep mourning, his widow Inge
and his children Ursula and Rüdiger.”

- Rüdiger. Now there's a name for you.
- Yes. On the attack!

Look at me.

Yes?

Good day, madam.
We would like to speak to Dr. Geder.

But my...

- My husband passed away.
- No, that...

Just three Weeks ago we...

- Merry condolences, madam. That's...
- Thanks.

Who are you?
What do you want from my husband?

We Wanted to deliver
the dowry parcels he ordered.

Dowry parcels?

Bedding, table linens, face towels,
the finest goods from Paris.

How much do these parcels cost?

1,100.

- Good Lord!
- For one.

- But that's 2,200 marks.
- Not exactly. It's 1,800.

- Your loving husband put down...
- 400.

Right, then...

Wehrmann.

Wehrmann.

I...

- I won't be in tomorrow.
- You won't be in?

- Yes, imagine it. I won't be in.
- Not in?

I won't be in.
I have an appointment. Is that okay?

Of course it is.

- Is it bad?
- No worse than going on a tour with you.

I was only asking.
A guy's allowed to ask, right?

But if I'm not allowed to ask, I won't.

Sit down, Mr. Bermann.

Good morning.

I'm Special Agent Sara Simon.

Sergeant Lederman
will record our conversation.

I must inform you. Everything you say
can be used against you.

Can I see your papers?

May I?

REFUGEE IDENTIFICATION

Bermann, David. Born on 11 January 1905.

In Neu Sandez, Austria. Today, Poland.

Jewish. Correct?

That's correct, thus far.

Could you tell me
What it is I'm being accused of?

Collaboration with the Nazis.

You're joking.

Your name appears repeatedly in SS files.

- I was in a concentration camp.
- We know.

From December 1943
you were a prisoner in Sachsenhausen.

How did you get there?

How did I get there?

In a limousine, with a chauffeur.

The background story, please.

My brothers and I
had a large linen store in Frankfurt.

The Gestapo showed up
and arrested my brothers and my parents.

And you?

I was... apprehended later in France.

My siblings and parents died in Auschwitz.

- And you?
- I'm still alive, as you can see.

May I remind you this is not a game
and could have grave consequences.

So, you were taken
to Sachsenhausen concentration camp.

Yes.

After having my head smashed in good.

You were later put in a cellblock
for privileged prisoners.

- This mentions a “special mission”.
- That's what this is about.

Yes.

We'd like to know
why you suddenly got special treatment?

What kind of a “special mission” was it?

And why?

Won't you let us in on the joke?

So you're the clown here, are you?

- What's your name?
- Bermann.

David Bermann, Obersturmbannführer.

So? What was so funny, Bermann?

- A joke, Obersturmbannführer.
- A joke.

Then tell it again.

The joke, Jew. Now!

A man...

walks through a train in a rush.

He has to go to the toilet.

It's occupied, so he bangs on the door
and yells as loud as he can.

Open up, damn it! I have diarrhea.

A voice sounds from within.

You lucky dog!

Bermann, you'll hear from me.

- And you'll stop laughing soon enough.
- Who was Obersturmbannführer Otte?

You don't know Otte?

Dietrich Otte, from the Schnee Eifel?
“Elegant Otte”?

I thought you had intelligence.

What happened then?

The SS was planning a Christmas party,
and I was supposed to perform there.

The SS didn't have much to laugh about.

When they did,

they laughed about Jews.

At roll call, for example.

They laughed at roll call?

You stood at attention.

At 4:00 or 5:00 in the morning,
for an hour or two.

In the freezing cold.

An SS man...

walked through the rows
with a riding crop.

And a crack here!

He didn't like the angle of your cap.
A crack there! Legs too far apart.

And, standing next to me...

Serge...

Goldner.

From Antwerp.

A fine man, Serge Goldner.

Unfortunately, he had...

He had a humpback.

And the SS man...

walked up to him,
pulled him forward and said...

“Stand up straight, Jew.”

And Serge,

he tried to do it,
stretching himself all he could...

But with the hunchback...

Then the SS man said...

“I'll teach you to stand up straight,
you crooked Jewish pig.”

He pulled out his gun.

And he shot him, right in his hunchback.

And the SS men laughed. They all laughed.

Do you remember that man's name?

Schirdewahn... Schirdewahn, Scharführer.

Would you like a coffee?

Is that a trick question?

So, the Christmas party.

Bermann!

The Christ Child
in the stable with his parents.

The lanky Balthazar arrives.

He steps in and hits his head
on the extremely low door frame.

Oh, Jesus! He curses.

“See,” Mary says to Joseph,

“That's a lovely name, not Willie,
like you wanted to name him.”

Jew, come here.

Now I'm going to tell you a joke.

Do you know why so many of you
are in concentration camps?

Hmm?

Because it's free.

Here. No hard feelings.

Cheers! You should get some joy
at Christmas too.

Bermann, we'll see each other again.
Applause for my court jester!

And when and how
did you see each other again?

Then I didn't hear from him
for a long time.

As you know, I was transferred
to the block for privileged prisoners.

And, I must admit, there were benefits.

And I shamelessly exploited them.

You could wash yourself with real soap.

You didn't get shaved bald.
The soup was thicker.

One day an SS man came in
and yelled, “Bermann, come with me!”

I trust you.

And I keep my word,
even when I give it to a Jew.

I had a talk with Bormann.
It's about the Führer.

They need someone to teach the Führer,
someone teach him something by rote.

Bermann, I've recommended you
to be the Führer's teacher.

To be the Führer's teacher?

What am I meant to teach him?

What is it you do best?

- Tell jokes.
- Precisely.

You'll teach the Führer a few jokes
he can memorize and drop casually.

The Führer has a phenomenal memory,
but he has no knack for telling jokes.

I mean, telling jokes
doesn't take much intelligence.

- You do need some humor.
- That's a sore spot.

The Führer can do everything
and knows everything.

He can wage war, paint.
He can squash the Reich's enemies.

He knows every Wagner opera by heart.

He is superior
to Mussolini in every regard.

But that pompous operetta buffo
can do one thing better.

- Tell jokes.
- Yes.

And seeing as the Duce plans
on paying the Führer a visit soon...

Does Hitler want
to impress Mussolini with a joke?

- What if I don't do it?
- Open wide, close your eyes.

There is no way back. Got that?

But...

Obersturmbannführer, I'm a Jew.

Yes, but the Führer doesn't know that.

I thought the Führer knew everything.

That's a good one!

- That was your start as a collaborator?
- Yes. No!

- Are you really serious?
- Yes.

Officer, have you ever,
even once in your life,

been in a situation like this?

Either... or.

Do you know this man?

Certainly. I shave him every day.

- So you admit it?
- Admit what?

- That's my bloody ID.
- In the name of Hecker. Heinz Hecker.

- Why?
- What name should it be in?

- Israel Hecker?
- Where did you get it?

I saw the camp clothier,
then the barber...

- It was given to me!
- By whom?

Otte, who else?

- So you admit it?
- Admit what?

To having worked
with the SS under a false name?

Just hold on a second. Hold on.

So I'm a collaborator?

For saving my life with a few jokes,

because you couldn't save it for me?

I'll tell you something else,
pretty American.

Any idea how many
Jews, gypsies, gays and war prisoners

you have on your conscience?

Why didn't you bomb the tracks
to Auschwitz, or even the camp?

You could've saved hundreds of thousands!

- That's the truth. And you didn't do it!
- Don't digress.

- Mr. Hecker.
- Mr. Hecker!

- Do you have a superior?
- General Fitzcollins, upstairs.

- I mustn't put up with this.
- Yes, you must.

I'm only doing my job.

Said the SS man
on the edge of the mass grave.

“In memory
of our beloved son Heinrich Schütz.

Born on... Killed in action near Smolensk.

Bergweg 14.”

You remember Heinrich.

Heinrich?

Heinrich.

Heini!

- He's nearly as good as Motek.
- Anyone can limp.

Yes, hello.

Good day.
Is this by chance the Schütz residence?

- Schütz. Yes.
- Great. Then I'm at the right place.

Is Heini home?

If you mean our youngest son Heinrich,
he's dead.

He never returned from Russia.

What?

Yes. Did you know him?

We were together in... Hold on.

Near Smolensk.

We swapped addresses.

For later. For now.

Yes, it happened in Smolensk.
In an ambush.

- Partisans.
- Partisans?

- Bandits, I tell you!
- You can say that again.

Gerda, there's a man here.
What was your name?

Wehrmann. Like “Wehrmacht”,
but with a real man behind it.

Come in.

A faultless lad, Heini was.
From head to toe.

Courageous, upstanding.

- Quite simply German!
- That he was.

See there.

- He painted that.
- So beautiful.

He was a talented lad.

Yes, we lost the best ones.

Lovely snacks.

- A little schnapps with your beer?
- I'd love one.

Let's drink to our brave Heinrich.

Thank you.

You're welcome.

- Thanks.
- Right then.

- To Heini.
- To Heini.

- L'chaim.
- Pardon?

- To Heini.
- To Heini.

Do you have work, Mr. Wehrmacht?

Yes.

I have to sell linens for a Jew.

A villain, I tell you.

Oh, Lord.

Bermann! We're the Jewish revenge!

I dumped two parcels on them.
Right in the Smolensk cauldron.

- Very good. I'm proud of you.
- It took you that long?

For a measly two parcels?

Does that bother you?
You have an appointment?

You know
I can't cope long in small spaces!

I spent months hidden under a stage.

In a coffin. In Seget.

Am I forcing you to sit here?
Get out. Go for a walk!

Am I your nanny?

Now you see for yourself how he is, David.

7,920.

7,920.

7,920 for each of us.

Yeah.

- Not bad, is it?
- No.

No. Very good.

Bermann?

What do you do
when you're not working for us, hmm?

- I don't understand.
- You know just what I mean.

I have a shiksa.

But she can only see me during the day.

You don't believe me?

I believe you.

We did a job today, I'm telling you.

- Ham!
- Real coffee!

A lovely day to you, miss.
Is your mum around?

Cut the nonsense.
We're not buying anything.

But how do you know
we're selling something?

We?

Wehrmann, pleased to meet you.

Hentrich.

- As I said, we're not buying.
- My colleague is new.

I Wanted to show him around the area.

- But we've never met.
- Come here, Doctor.

This is Mrs. Hentrich.

Hello, Doctor. You're a medical doctor?

- He's a Jew, right?
- Nothing gets past you, Mrs. Heydrich.

- Hentrich.
- Of course.

Say what you want about Jews,
but they're the best doctors.

I don't have a work permit yet

and have to get by
a few months as a sales representative.

You'd have work here.
Almost everyone's ill.

You too?

Lately I've been having
such terrible pain.

- When I walk.
- Just imagine that.

This man is an orthopedist.

Really?

- Yes.
- Yes.

What happened to the Jews was terrible.
But we knew nothing about it. Really.

If you had, I'm sure you would've hidden
a few in your lovely wardrobe.

Here.

Some face towels.

Terry cloth. A bath towel.

And... Yes.

Here.

Damask bedding from Paris.

Can you smell Paris?

And you get all of that for...

I hardly dare say it. 900.

So much?

- You need insoles.
- Dr. Fritz said that before the war.

He fell in the Balkans.

That's nice to hear. Right.

For you, Mrs. Hentrich...

I'd turn a blind eye and say 860.
That's my final offer.

860 for everything?

Try standing up.

Oh! You're going to laugh, Doctor.

- It feels better already.
- Free miracle cure. That's that then.

No! Don't be like that.
I'll take a parcel.

Wise choice.
Will you pay now or in installments?

- I think I have 800 in the house.
- No tricks. 860.

Perhaps I can give you
a bit of butter, ham, sugar instead.

And tomorrow we heal her sister.
She has shoulder pain.

- Where are you tomorrow?
- Tomorrow?

- Tomorrow Bermann's not in.
- Where will you be?

- Where will you be tomorrow?
- Visiting... The Pope.

- What's up with him?
- He's got tsuris.

Tsuris?

- Yeah, people talk.
- Well?

- Well what?
- What do people say?

- This and that.
- This and what?

- I think it has to do with the camp.
- Maybe he was a kapo?

- Come on!
- What do we know?

Krautberg! Bermann, a kapo?
How could you even think that?

Why couldn't he get a license?

True, that's not normal.

What's normal nowadays?

But that's not normal.

One day an SS man came in
and said we'd be going on a trip.

Do you remember the man's name?

Kleinschmitt, if I'm not mistaken.
Oberscharführer.

However,
I was still wearing my prisoner's garb.

He didn't like that,
so he lent me one of his suits.

What kind of a suit is that?
You look like a tramp. Oberscharführer!

He can't go to Berlin that way,
much less to the Führer.

Make a human being out of him!
Delouse him, de-Jew him.

Get him smart clothes.
Coat, hat, briefcase.

And he needs an ID.

Here's money and further instructions.

- Yes, Obersturmbannführer.
- Dismissed.

Am I surrounded by idiots?

Bermann.

Not a word about your mission.

To anyone.

The Führer has been told
that a German humorist will arrive

who will help him work out some jokes.

I will not tolerate any familiarity

with the Führer or the revered Miss Braun.

Do not disgrace me.

Dismissed.

Is there anything else?

Herr Obersturmbannführer.

My brothers...

- They're in Auschwitz.
- Oh, yes.

Just like you damn Jews.
Always trying to make a deal.

Give one of you an inch...

Bermann.

Get lost
before I send you to your brothers.

CASINO HOLDUP
THE LUBLINER GANG AGAIN?

I'll take the Frankfurter.

Something wrong?

No.

Hey, you!

Your newspaper.

Moische? What is it?

Are you not well?

It's him!

They drove people into the synagogue
and set it on fire.

On his orders!

Your friend Lubliner
is ruining our good reputation.

Firstly, he's not my friend,
and, secondly,

since when do Jews have a good reputation?

Mr. Bermann, did you enjoy your meal?

Madame Sonia,
to be honest, I've had better.

But not from us.

Now her father was a cook.
Not just that, he beguiled all of Paris.

- She's one-of-a-kind.
- Because you eat with your eyes.

But you're right.

She's got quite a tuchis.

You can't tell
if it wants to go right or left.

- Where did she survive?
- They say she was hidden.

- By her goy boyfriend's parents.
- Who died.

Moische?

Krautberg, what's wrong?
You haven't said a word all evening.

- Leave him be. He's in shock.
- What is it?

Come on, out with it.

You know the new newsstand?

- Yes.
- Sure.

And who do you think I saw there?

Stalin?

Kertwing!

- Who's Kertwing?
- Who is he?

Werner Kertwing!

SS Sturmbannführer.

One of the worst criminals, from Eger.

Are you sure?

He burned my parents to death.

- What'll we do?
- We have to punish him.

- Yes.
- Very good. Don't buy any newspapers.

Mr. Krautberg, a little schnapps?

No, thank you, Madame Sonia.

I'd rather go for a piss.

What's the matter with him?
Did he see a dybbuk?

We have to do something. For his sake.

Tell me what happened next
with Kleinschmitt.

I was given new clothes
and they took a photograph.

For the ID.

Then Kleinschmitt took me...

to Berlin.

To Hotel Adlon.

- To the Adlon?
- Yes.

- Noble.
- The Germans know what's proper.

Especially for a collaborator.

But I was out of luck.

Cabbage soup, no running water,
air raid sirens.

First-rate anti-Semitism.

The next morning you went to Obersalzberg?

Yes, I arrived there in the evening
and was taken to the guesthouse.

- Who else stayed there?
- My goodness, you're curious.

We have conflicting statements.

Conflicting statements?
Who did you ask, Hitler?

Mr. Bermann...

I think you fail to realize
what may await you.

A trial, prison, for years to come.

Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa!

Boy, Krautberg. What a schlemiel!
Want to take him off me?

Believe me.
It's no bed of roses with Szoros.

Whats that about me?

I was just saying poor Krautberg
has been through a lot.

We've all been through a lot,

except you.

What? Except me?

Yeah, where were you anyway?

In China?

On holiday!

Holiday?

You schmuck, you!

I wish that holiday on all my enemies!
This was my holiday!

In '43.

Yes, Shanghai is sunny. it's marvelous!

Japanese everywhere.

Right. You guys want to hear about it?

Then just listen.

I worked in a bar.

One evening I had the pleasure.

Who comes in?
A Japanese officer and an SS man.

Josef Meisinger.

He had just liquidated the Warsaw Ghetto

and wanted to assist his friends in China.

I was supposed to help too.

I was to introduce them
to my Jewish customers.

And so I said to him, “You know what?

Sod you!”

And then?

Then they grabbed hold of me...

and Meisinger punched me in the eye.

Over and over again.

He was wearing one of those skull rings.

Well, it was just an eye.

So, Bermann, 30 parcels?
You staying away a whole month?

You'll see.
We'll sell it all by this evening.

You really think
we'll sell 30 parcels today?

Yes.

- For sure?
- For sure.

- Would you even bet on it?
- How much?

Five dollars.

Ten.

Ten.

Watch it!

Come here.

Sit, Motek. Let's go.

Motek, wait here.

Good morning!

My esteemed ladies and gentlemen,
is this the railway settlement?

- Yes, sir.
- Very good.

Please come a bit closer.

The two of us have been sent here
by order of the railway company

to make you a truly superb offer.

These dowry parcels right here,

contain...

bedding.

But also face towels, bath towels,
a tablecloth,

napkins, six of them,
of the finest damask.

Of superior quality, ladies.

All of this usually costs 1,300 marks.
You're thinking, “What a great deal.”

But let me tell you, it gets way better.

Your employer, the railway,

has agreed to pitch in
400 marks per parcel.

This means today you get a parcel,
here and now and only today,

for just 900 marks.

However, this deal only applies
to railway employees

and their families.

Is there anyone here it does not apply to?

- Yes, me.
- Dear lady, I'm so very sorry.

Only railway employees.

This man is monitoring that.
Right, Mr. Wehrmann?

- Yes.
- And...

- Can't we make an exception?
- No. No exceptions.

- You heard him.
Damn.

Come closer.

Just look at this.
Come closer and have a look.

Look, it's damask.
You normally only find it in Paris.

Now just look
at this beautiful bath towel.

In a lovely baby blue.
You must have a son.

Imagine the little chap
freshly bathed and snuggled up

in this lovely bath towel.

I'll pass them around so you
can see now magnificent they are.

You'll sleep like a dream.

Oh, ladies.

You'll get me into hot water.

I'll make an exception.

But please don't tell anyone
or they'll tear my head off.

Not a word! That goes for you too, Motek.

I'd have to be meshuga.
I'm not going to ruin my business.

- Tomorrow we'll come with ten more.
- Then you'll mess it up.

Let the railway workers
feel a bit slighted.

We'll come back next month
with 40 parcels.

- Tomorrow we'll go to Seckbach.
- What's in Seckbach?

Post office workers.

- A bakery?
- Yes.

Seitz Bakery, it belongs to my family.

What did you do during the war?

Our bakery was bombed in '44.

After that I helped out in a hospital.

And your father?

As a baker, he wasn't drafted.
His job was essential to the war effort.

He was fortunate.

Were you a Nazi?

- I'm sorry.
- No, no! Sorry, I apologize for that.

- Hello.
- Mr. Bermann, this is Miss Seitz.

Miss Seitz.

Delighted. David Bermann.

She's our new secretary.

Welcome aboard.

I didn't know you worked for the railway.

Oh, no, those are stories
that are good for business.

People love stories.
And they're free. Nearly free.

You'll admit such stories
don't boost your credibility.

On that note, let us continue
where we left off last time.

So, I arrived in Obersalzberg
and was taken to the guesthouse.

A certain Ernst-Walter von...

I forgot the rest, greeted me warmly
in the name of the Führer.

And he introduced me to the maid,
Fanny Huber.

And then?

Fanny Huber handed me a loden coat
and a traditional hat.

In case I wanted to go for a walk,
as it was cold.

And she listed
the various things that she...

could do for me, if I so desired.

When were you to meet Hitler?

That was postponed.

But I didn't mind.

The longer it took,
the more time I had to work out my plan.

Your plan?

Do you really think I only went there
to tell him jokes?

To reproach him?

“Mein Führer, what you did
to the Jews wasn't very nice.”

No.

I went there to kill that piece of shit.

- You wanted to kill Hitler?
- Yes.

At least it would've
given my life meaning.

This is getting crazier and crazier.

Are you telling me
Otte didn't know what he was doing?

- Sending a Jew to Hitler is risky.
- No.

To the SS
we Jews were soft, cowardly subhumans.

They'd never have thought
a guy like me could be an assassin.

Describe your plan to me.

I clearly couldn't assume

that Hitler would have a sharp object
or something like that in his room.

So I needed a knife.

And I knew I'd have to do it
at our first meeting.

There may not have been a second one.

But where could I get one?

How could I hide it
and get to Hitler with it?

- And?
- Fanny Huber had taken a fancy to me.

- Is that right?
- Yes, that hadn't escaped me.

Not all women flat out reject me
as you do.

I don't reject you, Mr. Bermann.
I'm listening intently to your tales.

With lots of patience.

Tales?

What are you writing, Mr. Hecker?

Oh, nothing, Miss Huber.
Just a few jokes. For the Führer.

I'm so jealous
that you get to meet him personally.

You'll be all alone with him
as his private tutor.

Mr. Hecker.

- Heinz.
- Fanny.

We'll stop for today.

A welcoming committee.

Come on, spare us your jokes.

- David, time for some straight talk.
- Straight talk?

- I'm burning with curiosity.
- So are we.

What is this here? A tribunal?

What are you up to behind our backs?

You disappear two or three times a week.

- What is it you do?
- That's my business.

What business do you have with the Yanks?

We've trusted you until now.

Until now? And tomorrow you won't anymore?

- Are you nuts?
- Why won't you tell us what's up?

Because.

If it turns out that you're involved
in something bad...

Were you involved with the Nazis?

Were you a kapo, Bermann?

No.

Will you swear it on the life of...

On whose life, Holzmann?

Hmm?

No one left?

Et voilà!

Mr. Bermann, 9,000 for me.

9,000 for you.

Knock on wood.

Mamatschi,

get me a pony.

- A pony would be a dream...
- Off!

Off!

Off.

Off.

Turn the music off.

I'm okay.

I'm okay.

In Auschwitz.

On the ramp.

The SS.

The dogs.

And that cursed song...

blaring out of the loudspeakers.

He'll be delighted tomorrow.

Good day.

I kissed Fanny Huber.
I grabbed her breasts.

This Fanny Huber, did you...
I mean, did you have...

We kissed a few times,
there was some fondling, but...

that was unavoidable. I needed a knife.

So you had to pat her down all over
to find one?

I arranged a nighttime rendezvous
with her in the kitchen.

I arrived a bit early.

I opened a drawer
and found the perfect knife.

It was a jackknife, a short hunting knife.

Pointed...

wide and sharp.

DEADLY FIRE

Excuse me.

Could we perhaps stop for today?

Morning.

Moische! Listen up.

Have you read this?

“A faulty coal furnace probably caused
the Kaiserstrasse newsstand fire.

The owner was presumably surprised
in his sleep and was killed.”

- He was inside?
- That wasn't the plan.

But I can't pity the rat much.
Now he knows how it is to burn.

Wait.

“The victim has been identified
as 48-year-old Harry Wiesener.”

Wiesener?

“He is survived by his wife
and two children.” Harry Wiesener?

- Hunting knife. Pointed, wide, sharp.
- Excuse me?

Remember? Last time you said
you found a hunting knife.

Oh, yes.

Then, a happy coincidence.

The next morning
Fanny Huber gave me an edelweiss.

Sweet.

To press it I needed a book.

What did the devoted maid bring me?
Mein Kampf. What mazel!

No one would search it
and it might even flatter Hitler.

So I started cutting out a hollow space
for my knife in the pages of the book.

I hurried, as I could be called
to Hitler at any time.

But things went differently.

Or Hitler would've been dead
and you a hero.

I was ready.

The knife was in the book
and I'd thought up a joke.

You should do that more often.

- Weren't you afraid?
- Scared shitless.

And then?

Then fate...

smiled down on him.

Mr. Hecker, what in heavens name
are you doing? Heinz!

That's everything?

That's everything.

That's everything?

That's everything.

Sorry I'm late, Mr. Bermann.

Do you know the man in the photo?

No.

Have you heard about the newsstand fire?

Yes, it was in the paper.

- Do you know anything else about it?
- No. Why?

I could ask you where you were
Monday night at around 1:00 AM.

You could. I was at home in my bed.

Where else would you be?
Of course, you were alone.

- Yes.
- The dead man was named Kertwing.

SS Sturmbannführer Werner Kertwing,
wanted for war crimes in Czechoslovakia.

He had assumed the identity
of one of his victims.

Harry Wiesener.

What's funny about that?

A scorched Nazi and I'm supposed to cry?

He's coming.

Come on.

What?

Moische wasn't wrong.

It was Kertwing after all.

Shit!

Take a bit of America with you, Moischele.

May His great name...

How can one pray to a god
who makes so many mistakes?

A Woman enters the bedroom
with her girlfriend.

And, in the bed,

lies her husband, dead.

The girlfriend asks, “What did he die of?”

“Of a cold,” the woman says.

“What mazel, nothing serious.”

Krautberg isn't even cold
and you're telling jokes?

Crying won't bring him
back to life either.

Let's drink to your friend.

- To Krautberg.
- L'chaim!

- To you, Moischele.
- What?

“To life”, l'chaim in Hebrew.

L'chaim.

He was such a decent person,
Mr. Krautberg.

His decency cost him his life.

He couldn't bear his burden.

Everyone
who was in a concentration camp...

wondered, “Why did I survive?”

Please stop the moaning.

David said it. Hitler is dead.

But we're alive.

Should I feel guilty about that?

We feel guilty because we're here.

Here, in this country.

- But we won't stay.
- No.

No.

- None of us will stay.
- Let's drink to that.

Yes.

To America.

- To America.
- To America.

You too?

Yes.

Certainly.

Do you want to come with me?

To America?

Me?

You.

- Yes. Yes!
- Yes?

Yes.

- You?
- Yes, me.

Everything okay?

- Yes.
- Pardon me.

May I assist you?

- Where on earth did you come from?
- From the coffeehouse, just like you.

We said good bye to a colleague.
He's returning to the States.

Yes.

Yes, we also said good-bye to a colleague.

Taxi!

Tell me, Officer, you are German, right?

- Not anymore.
- But still Jewish.

Mr. Bermann, I'm not allowed
to speak to you privately.

I promise you I won't tell anyone.

My father was a doctor
at Charité Hospital in Berlin.

He was fired in '33 because he was a Jew.

Lucky for us.
We were able to go to America in time.

The rest of my family died.

And then?

- Now you're interrogating me.
- Poetic injustice, Officer.

I studied law at Harvard.
I never wanted to come back to Germany.

And I couldn't stay here either.

But the Army needed
German-speaking interrogators.

And I thought, “That's what I have to do.”

Put Nazis through the ringer.
My modest contribution.

I'm no Nazi, but still I'm honored
to be put through your ringer.

May I show you something?

Yes.

BERMANN BROTHERS'
LINEN STORE

In the 1920s
this was the best building in Frankfurt.

My parents passed it on
to my brothers and me.

We were very successful.

My brothers married respectable women
and had typical Jewish whiz kids.

They wanted to be
more German than the Germans.

Here.

This was the sales area.

Full of long, beautiful sales counters
made of precious wood and glass.

Behind them, smartly dressed salespeople

who laid out noble goods on the tables.

And the tills were here.

All of these walls here

were wood panelled.

Elegant.

And beautiful.

My brothers sat there.

Up above, there was a big glass dome.
Here.

And here...

there was a cabinet.

With a safe inside it.

And I...

Move! Out! You're under arrest.

- Have you lost your...
- We haven't done anything!

Mr. Bermann?

I leave for Nuremberg tomorrow.
You'll hear from me when I return.

Good-bye.

I guess they forgot to gas you!

Don't you think
we should've lowered the price?

No. Why?

- Oh, he can talk!
- Yes, he can.

Would you like one?

- You smoke?
- No.

Where exactly?

No idea. Do I know Upper Bavaria?

I hid somewhere in the woods
till the Americans showed up.

Mr. Bermann,

is there anything important
you'd like to tell me?

I really don't know
what else could be important.

You were in unimaginable places
for a camp prisoner.

- You still don't believe me?
- No.

You know, Miss Simon...

sometimes we don't believe
what we've experienced ourselves.

That's him!

Mr. Otte, you worked with Mr. Bermann.
Can you elaborate on that?

Well, he told jokes.

He was brilliant at that.

- And that was all?
- Yes, what else should he have done?

Bermann, come let me hug you!

You filthy pig!

Filthy pig.

Sit down, Mr. Bermann.

He exonerated you.

Being exonerated by an SS man,
that's somehow appropriate.

Are you disappointed now?

I...

I helped Otte...

send a Jew to the gas chamber.

It had got around that
that filthy pig had a foible for jokes.

Poor Friedler tried
to save his skin with that.

Otte ordered a joke competition.

We had to duel it out.

The Winner got chocolate.

The loser had to go to the showers.

Can I go?

What happened?

23,100 for each of us.

That makes a total of 46,200.

Lubliner.

The confrontation with Otte
was unavoidable.

I had to do it.

We're closing your case.

Aren't you glad?

Yes.

So the whole business is over with?

Yes.

Such a pity.

I have absolutely no idea
what I'll do without you.

Actually, you're not my type at all.

I know.

Tell me the truth.

You weren't a hero.

You were just supposed
to play the jester for Hitler.

You slept with me anyway.

I know.

Go on.

The truth, and nothing but the truth.

If one didn't embellish life with lies,
then...

it'd be unbearable.

I played the clown
for my brothers' murderers.

- What'll we drink to?
- To America.

Yes. To America.

Yes. To America!

Dear David, dear Max...

we have an announcement to make.

You've made all this possible for us.

That's why, starting tomorrow,
we'll work just for you.

Till you have all the money back.

Then...

good-bye, Germany!

- And then, good-bye, Germany!
- Good-bye, Germany!

Good-bye, Germany!

Of course.

AND THEY ALL LEFT GERMANY

EXCEPT DAVID

One of us had to stay so as not to leave
this beautiful country to the Germans.

And all jokes aside?

Without jokes I'd be long dead.

AFTER WORLD WAR II APPROXIMATELY
4,000 JEWS STAYED IN GERMANY

LATER, NONE OF THEM COULD EXPLAIN
TO THEIR CHILDREN WHY