Django (2017) - full transcript

Ardennes June 1943

Still not here.
He drives me crazy.

So we'll start without him.

Remember in Charleroi?

Cut the crap.

Paris wants Django.

Django, what the hell? Move it!

What are you doing? They're waiting!

Look what I caught. See this?

A catfish.

Get moving!



I'm moving, I'm moving, look.

Check this out, Ninin.

I'll cook it up for you.

Isn't that pretty?

Late for catfish. They're gross!

Don't knock mustaches.

Mr. Django's carriage is here.

Take it easy.

There you are, finally.
Put on your suit.

Get on stage! Guys!

Gorgeous catfish.

Hurry up, guys!

I'll do them with parsley.

Charles? Pour me a drink.



Ninin, dress your brother!

Sit up straight.

About time you got here!

My Mama.

We apologize.

We're late due to a technical problem.

And now, ladies and gentlemen...
Well,

in a few minutes,

Django Reinhardt and the Quintette
du Hot Club de France.

Enjoy the show.

You're strangling me. That hurts!

You got fat.

- You're on!
- It's fine.

Django, get your guitar.

Let's do it!

Go on, break a leg.

It's in tune.

It better be.

Good evening.

- A seat?
- No thanks.

Dancing is forbidden

Nice playing.

Better playing will cost you.

And now La Plume will tickle your ears.

Mama...

Good job, son.

Hello, Negros.

Bravo, Django.

You set the place on fire again.
You're pure genius.

I really mean it.

Do you know Captain Werner Effman?

He's organizing
the German tour I mentioned.

The embassy agreed.

Good evening, Mr. Reinhardt.

Congratulations.

The concert was entertuning.

Entertaining.

But you'll have to...
discipline yourself.

Here in Paris
they let you do as you please

because it's our army's whorehouse.

But in Germany it's different.

You'll have to take it down a notch.

No more nigger music, none at all.

No more swinging rhythms,
no breaks, no blues.

No one standing up and dancing.

Understand?

Louise?

What are you doing here? Come.

Werner Effman.

Lieutenant Dietrich Von Schultz,

who worked at Deutsche Grammophon.

Our Dr. Jazz.
He knows everyone.

I know who you are.

You even cut an album with Grappelli.

Yes, that's right.

And who are you?

Louise De Klerk,
queen of Montparnasse nights.

What do you know of my nights?

I must leave you.

Use this to prepare for your trip.

Read our instructions.
If any questions,

speak with the lieutenant,
our dear friend.

Gentlemen...

I'll see you out.

Montparnasse, the Jazz Age.

Louis Armstrong, La Coupole...

How is good old Grappelli?

In London.
The climate, supposedly.

I'll never leave Pigalle.

So?

You know what artists are like.

I know him. I'll talk to him.

Don't underestimate me.

Why do you want to involve him in this?

Many stars tour Germany.

French workers there
need to have fun.

Piaf and Trenet agreed.

They're not gypsies.

You're like the java.
You go and come, you go...

I was in Belgium.
I missed Paris.

And I miss Belgium...

Beautiful concert.

Look... Listen to this.

Effman's instructions.

"Music known as swing

must comprise
less than 20% of the show."

What about the other 80%?

We'll play waltzes.

You'll count them.

It's what he says, and there's more.

"Tapping feet during solos..."

"Tapping feet during solos
is strictly forbidden.

It is a provocation."

If you don't tour, we're in deep shit.

"Non-Aryan instruments like cowbells..."

- You listening?
- It's no, Charles. Don't insist.

Cowbells!

Here's one for you, Vola.

I just saw it.

"Double bass must be played with a bow
in all jazz compositions."

Read this.

We'll never sign that.

La Plume, hand me that paper.

Yeah, this is really...

very interesting.

We'll be laughing less.

We need to have a talk.

I'm going. I'm tired.

Good evening...

Down on your left.

Hello, Lucas.

You're married now?

How about you?

- Happy? Fulfilled?
- Can't complain.

Germans give you the red carpet.

Black market, the good life.

This isn't my war.

This is a gadjo war.
Gypsies never waged war.

Isn't that a bit easy?

I'm a musician. I play music.
It's what I do best.

It's not my problem
who comes and listens.

Talking about me?

Since American jazz left Paris,
I'm the King of Swing.

I give the people what they like.

Trained monkeys play circuses,
not music.

Think so?

Maybe.

But it's what they like
and it feeds the family.

Silent nights in Paris
don't evoke another kind of music?

Come see this. It's hilarious.

You'll see...

Who's that clown?

Hitler.

Really?

Shitty mustache.

Shitty, yeah. Not like yours.

Air raid sirens!

Naguine, wake up. Let's go.

It's all right.

Get dressed.

Take Joko.

Come on.

La Plume, Mama!

Hurry up, we have to go down!

Mama!

We're going down. You must get up.

Sirens went off.
There will be bombs, planes.

I'm not scared of bombs.

Let me sleep!

It's dangerous!

Forget your shoes!
Come barefoot!

Calm down. It'll be fine.

Listen, Django.

- This came for me yesterday.
- What is it?

For the STO.

- What's the "STO"?
- Forced labor.

I have to see Mr. Werner,
52 Champs Elysées.

They want to send us to Germany.

To Germany?

Did we get anything?

A love song

in the evening

gently

blown by the wind

drifts about...

It hurts my ears!

Your violin isn't bagpipes!

It's what's written.

I don't care what's written!
You got pig ears?

Not at all.

Don't discuss.

It has to be gentle.

Soft, like velvet.

Understand, man?

Start over.

Not bad, right?

Why not record us?

Excellent idea. Right, Django?

I have some very good news for you.

During your tour in Germany,

Goebbels wants to see you
playing Berlin.

Several concerts, huge venues

to cheer up troops
leaving for the Eastern Front.

A fee...

a very nice fee awaits you.

Do you know the Delphi Palast?

- And the Olympic Stadium?
- Nope.

Can you imagine

Django Reinhardt, the gypsy,
and his Quintette,

in front of thousands of German soldiers?

Goebbels

and maybe even... the Fuhrer.

Be right back.

Your cousin has a big place!

Why did you leave?

Do your Clark Gable.

- Please!
- Stop it.

Django, please.

Hear about Raymond Weiss?

Blind Man Weiss?

Shot like a dog
in the Ardennes last month.

- How do you know?
- I know.

Some of his family killed,
others sent God knows where.

I remember as a kid,

I could listen to him sing for hours.

In Belgium and up north,
families disappear without a trace.

You must run away.

There are lots of roundups in Paris.

I'm safe here.
Dr. Jazz is protecting me.

He's a pawn.
He can easily be sent to the front.

Above him are Effman and Goebbels.

They're plotting something awful.

The Germans love me.

They even want me to do concerts there.

You've changed your mind?

It's pure madness.
They'll never let you back.

Let's go to the movies
and dream a little...

- You good, gorgeous?
- Fine, and you?

Is Charlie in?

On the phone.
Shall I tell him?

Can you please sign your last record?

I can't write.

You'll have to rehearse for Berlin.

You've never played such venues.

They're gigantic.

Far bigger than the Folies Bergère.

As of now,
Effman is offering 80,000.

He won't go higher. Nice amount.

And Dr. Jazz can get us
two studio sessions.

With Deutsche Grammophon!

What's that?

I was sharpening my razor.

I cut myself really deep.

I'll have to take some time off
until it heals.

You kidding?

It's not possible.

Too late.

It's all organized.

All signed.

Want to ruin me?
I'll have the Gestapo on my back!

- It's not against you.
- You can't do this.

Without Dr. Jazz's support,
we're dead.

No more Hot Club.
Kiss all we've done goodbye.

You can't force my hand.
I won't go.

What do I tell them now?

Tell them Django wants the same fee
as Clark Gable.

Joko, take the guitar.

Is Django Reinhardt here?

- Yes, why?
- We want to see him.

I'll go get him.

It's the police.

Good.

Stand up, please.

Now facing the camera.

Mr. Reinhardt, Jean.

Born January 23, 1910

in Liberchies.

Where is that?

Belgium.

You're a nomad?

I'm a fairground entertainer.
A musician, sir.

17.3.

Open your mouth.

Wide.

6.9.

7.4.

Can you come see this?

Put your hand on the table.

This is degeneration
caused by generations

of inbreeding.

The other side.

The type of unnatural relationship

leading to birth defects,

congenital muscular atrophy

and this, a perfect example
of Schinzel phocomelia.

Not at all.

It's a burn.

As a kid, artificial flowers
caught on fire on my caravan.

Everyone knows that.

Very good.

You turned your handicap into an asset.

You play music faster.

Everyone knows that.

Enjoy Germany, Mr. Reinhardt.

You have 10 minutes. Hurry.

Hello, Negros.

I want to speak to Naguine.

She's not in.
Keep your bad luck out! Go away!

Open the door.

- I must speak to you.
- Go away!

Negros!

Can you hear me?

Don't let that gadjo in.
She has no business here.

What do you want?

Since March,
many gypsies have been arrested.

Locked up like animals in camps.

Those who don't obey are killed.
Or sent to Germany.

Babies are taken from mothers,
who are sterilized.

The babies are used
for awful experiments.

Nonsense!
The Germans love my son.

They use him,
a puppet to entertain officers.

How she badmouths him!

Negros, let her talk.

I warned Django. He didn't listen.

He trusts only you, Naguine.

Only you can persuade him
to go to Switzerland.

What is that?

Go to the Swiss border.

These are IDs for your family

and instructions for your trip.

Your contact is Nightingale.
You can trust him.

Why are you helping us?

Django is a unique musician.

He can still create great stuff.

Now you know.
Do what you think best.

Now you listen to me.

Yes, he's unique. And he's my man.

Forget him.

A woman like you can't make him happy.

Good luck.

It was in a small restaurant.

Me and Django, at our table.

I'd brought along a pot

with a nice niglo.

What's a niglo?

A hedgehog.

At the next table,
2 soldiers and 2 Frenchwomen.

One of the soldiers stands up

"Sir..."

with his German accent,

"what exactly are you eating?

They really look like rats!"

Django turns around,

"You're right, sir.

Nice rats from the Paris subway!"

You really eat hedgehog?

Yes, madam.
And they're delicious!

Did you enjoy dinner?

I'm in for 100.

150.

300.

I'm out.

I'm in for 300.

Sorry, that's not 300.

The money's next door.
I'll get it.

We play with money.
We put it on the table.

Sorry.

We can't start lending.

Move it, Joko.

What is it?
Is something wrong?

We have to go, Django.

I don't like that woman,
but she's right.

Why didn't you say she came by?

And you?

Why didn't you say she was back?

They really got us good.

And La Plume is snoring.

You have something to tell me.

I won't go to the border with you.

Why not?

I don't know. It doesn't feel right.

I have my wife.

And the kid.

I always follow you everywhere.

Since forever.

How will you manage?

I'll get by. Don't worry.

I can do more than backup guitar.

I'll do something else.

I was offered a recording session.

Some concerts...

Lucky break.

Mr. Solo wants his spotlight.

I have my pieces.

Ninin...

Don't dream too high.

Oh bro!

- Whose house is this, Nightingale?
- A painter. In America now.

It's empty but there are beds.

The rooms are upstairs,
if you want to see.

Did you have a nice trip?

No.

Is that Switzerland?

Yes.

Why don't we just cross?
We paddle and we're there.

It's too risky by the lake.

Eight miles.

The Germans occupy the area.

The shore is guarded.

Smugglers are unreliable.

They double the price mid-route.
If you can't pay,

they whack with an oar
and you toss you over.

Bodies wash ashore every day.

We're lucky.
We have family nearby.

This is your cousin.

I'm happy to see you.

And how is your family?

This is my wife.

As of now,
we're waiting for Draka's family.

They know someplace safe,

in the south.

When are they coming?

Only the wind knows.

It's been a month.

The problem here

is having to go to city hall.

Every week.

The worst isn't the Germans.
It's the French police.

We can't do business.

We're not allowed to sell horses.

How do you get by?

Fortunately

we're allowed to play in bars.

Our music.

Would you like to play with us?

You know, we're just passing through.

Thank you.

Here's to you all.

To you.

There you are.

This will help.

So what's the news?

You'll have to be patient.

- It's complicated.
- What is?

The head of the network
says you're not a priority.

- Wait until Louise gets here.
- Know where she is?

Not really.

What does that mean?

There were arrests in Paris.

Was she arrested?

I can't say more. That's all I know.

You jammed with Armstrong?

His lips bleed from blowing so hard?

How was Coleman Hawkins on sax?

Excellent.

They call him Falcon, right?

Until he met you, he won every duel,

except for one, against Lester Young.

The terror of Kansas City.

You know a lot.

Do you play?

Listen.

Shave your mustache.

What?

Obviously.
Krauts won't recognize you.

- Are you serious?
- Yes!

Cut the shit.

What was Duke Ellington like?

Black.

Here, son.

Wear these.

This is all I found.

We're out of coupons.

- That's all?
- Yes.

We should have stayed in Paris.
We had everything.

What do we have here? Nothing.

There are evil spirits here.
I'm leaving.

You don't seem too well.

You should go and play in that bar.

We'll wait as long as we have to,
but we must eat.

Don't worry about our baby.

Don't be afraid.

You have your guitar.

You make crowds dance
and charm snakes.

No one will dare harm us.

Enchant me, Naguine.

Not bad.

Faster would be better.

One, two, three, four.

Go on.

Don't look at your fingers.

Faster now.

Go on, keep it up.

Go on.

Don't stop.

Keep it up. It's good.

Keep on playing, Gagar.

Now you'll forget your fingers.

There you go!

It's my favorite piece.

I like it nice and quick.

Is that me?

Yes, you're our hero.

No...

I'm a gypsy just like you.

My son isn't just anyone.
He's done lots of concerts.

Everywhere.
England, Italy, Spain.

He's famous all over.

I pay depending on the crowd.

Right, Mr. Hoffman?

You came to me, not vice versa.

It will be packed, believe me.

You don't buy a lion with bread.

We'll see.

Make an effort!
You won't regret it!

I can't do better.

Mama...

Stop, this is useless.

Show this dummy your stuff!

What was that?

It's a secret between us two.

So?

What do you think?

We'll figure it out.

You won't regret it.

But first sign this.

What is it?

- It's the law.
- I can't read or write.

It says you're not Jewish.

What will you pay?

50 francs.

The rest depends on the crowd.

Pour me a drink.

It's out of good will?

She's something!

Come on, where's the music?

Joko!

What are you doing here?

What's going on?

This house has been seized.
You must leave.

Get out!

We didn't do anything!

Hurry up, please.

Your papers.

Thanks, I'll do it myself.

Feel that?

Our son will be a tiger.

Or a tigress.

Hello.

How are you?

Like fishing?

That's good, my son.

Yes, Father.

The organ was repaired
just before the war.

The sound is magnificent.

I won't play while you sermonize.

I don't believe in that stuff.
It's just superstition.

Not just...

I thought you'd have peace and quiet
to compose.

Who told you I compose?

There's you are, Sparrow.

I said to lay low.
There are new laws.

Where's my Switzerland?

Where?

Your job is to get me there.

No thanks.

Hands off!

You again?

Your papers.

Take him in.

Where are we going?

Mr. Renard, please come in.

Your talent is precious,
but in the wrong hands...

it can lead to violence and disorder.

I just play music.

Don't act innocent.

You're not.

Madame de Klerk.

Please, do come in.

No need to introduce you, I suppose.

No need indeed.

Hello, Django.

You're expected in Germany,
or have you forgotten?

The Propagandastaffel and the embassy
signaled your disappearance

when everything was set
for your tour.

Why are you in Thonon?

Don't tell me you're trying
to cross over to Switzerland.

But...

before your departure for Berlin,

I'd like you to give us a concert.

Next week, our main regional officers

will be meeting at the Villa Amphion.

It's a stunning place
where Madame de Klerk and I live.

Mr. and Mrs. Schwartz are our hosts.

Our officers are far from home.

It's an occasion to offer them
a moment of relaxation.

We also appreciate your music,

as long as you don't go overboard.

Django knows the rules of propaganda
concerning music.

He abided by them in Paris.

You're lucky to have
so devoted an admirer.

Louise insisted
that we invite you among us.

To redeem yourself
for yesterday's behavior.

But it must be reciprocal.

The slightest misconduct

will force us
to rap you on the knuckles.

Hammerstein!

You may see him out.

Come on.

Lieutenant,

at Amphion you'll be responsible
for artistic purity.

No false note will be tolerated.

I have one last favor to ask.

Let him be with his family.

A prison cell
isn't suitable for rehearsals.

Louise...

how do I know your...

protégé won't vanish into thin air?

I'll take it on myself.

Django, wait!

- What the hell?
- Calm down.

You were supposed
to get us to Switzerland!

Don't shout.

I've been stuck here for two months!

Now you throw me to the Krauts
for a concert!

As selfish as usual...

You didn't even worry about me.

Not even happy to see me.

You're the only person
this war hasn't changed!

After you left Paris, I was arrested.

They interrogated me for a week.

They did a good job on me.

What did they do?

I can't say more.

- Tell me.
- It's better this way.

You're with them now?

What a question.

Hans Biber let me
send for your musicians.

Do the concert. It's important.

Why?

We must obey.

I can't play for Krauts.

You have no choice.

They killed my monkey.

Are you kidding?

Quiet, please!

Quiet!

Decree by the Feldkommandantur.

Thonon-les-Bains, November 9, 1943.

"Starting from today,

nomads in the Place de la Crete camp

are forbidden to leave the premises,

to use public roads
and build campfires."

You are under house arrest.

All violators will be prosecuted

to the full extent of the law.

Thieves!

I'll beat up whoever comes!

I'll beat him up good!

You're not coming?

- How are you, Tam Tam?
- Fine.

I've missed you bandits.

- Where's Joseph?
- You didn't hear?

He's hiding out in Toulon.

Since when?

A month.

He's clever. At least he has sun.

Did you hear Charles was arrested?

He was in prison.
Dr. Jazz got him out.

But his secretary disappeared.

Beware of Louise. She's fishy.

This concert is her idea.

Rumor has it she turned Charles in.

This is the strings.

Here are the choruses.

How many musicians?

Take note, La Plume.

My whole family was taken away.

Only my son and I could escape.

My nephew Bakro

was shot down by German guards.

This is Renardo.

One of the Draka boys.

His family was put in a camp
in Arc-et-Senans.

In the camp, they separate the families.

It was terrifying.

All that suffering.

The men's camp was surrounded
by barbed wire.

There were deaths every day.

We were treated like animals.

Even by the French gendarmes.

I came back to warn you.

Everyone who got on the trains
just disappeared.

They're real demons.

Please...

Don't stay here.

He's tired. He needs to rest.

We'll discuss it tomorrow.

It all depends on you.
On how you can bewitch them.

Bewitch who?

The Krauts. At the Villa Amphion.

Louise told you?

We have an English aviator.

His plane was shot down.
He can't cross the mountains.

We'll cross the lake
during your concert.

You've been playing me for a fool.

My family is awaiting your signal.
It's never the right time.

When they raided our camp,
hit us, stole our cars and horses,

you didn't lift a finger.

Now you ask me to play
so someone else can escape?

You'll cross next.

I don't care about your promises!

I don't believe them anymore!

I can't play. My hand hurts.

It hurts?

I have pins under my fingernails.

You'll manage.

I'll play under one condition.

Protect the families in the camp.

- We'll do our best.
- Look into my eyes.

I want your word.

For you,

your wife, your mother, your musicians,

you have it.

I can't promise for the others.

We can help if they join the Resistance.
We need men.

Agreed.

And the others?

The women, children, old people?

Fucking gadjos!

Come!

Did you decide?

Yes, Django.

They'll join the Resistance.
They're young.

I won't need this
where I'm going.

Keep it.
It will bring you good luck.

Thanks.

We have to go.

Don't worry.

Gentlemen...

You'll have to change.

Stay here until they come for you.

Here, La Plume.

You need to grow.

What pieces are you playing?

We'd planned on...

"Manoir de mes Reves", "Nuages"...

You must play piano during dinner.

Without disrupting the conversations.

Privilege harmonic major scales.

No blues.

Breaks are forbidden.

And avoid allegros and prestos.

No more than 5% syncopation.

And no solos longer than 5 seconds.

Oh yeah?

Do you know music?

No...

But music knows me.

Where are you going?

You're on in 3 minutes.

Beat it.

Are you all in tune?

Play for me tonight.

Here?

No, far from here.

Stop, stop!

My dear comrades.

I am very happy
to welcome you here tonight.

My warmest thanks

to Major General Huber,

who came from Annemasse.

I'd also like to thank
Mr. and Mrs. Schwartz

for their hospitality.

I must admit

that the landscape here, the lake,

remind me of our beloved Chiemsee.

We are entitled
to some entertainment today.

As the poet Friedrich Ruckert says,

"Do not ask Fate

to save tomorrow for you.

The moment belongs to us.

Let's savor it."

To a free Europe!

To a German Europe!

Long live the Fuhrer!

Gently.

Now I want to know everything.

What about?

You and that degenerate...
How is it possible?

My first love was a Russian painter.

A melancholic for whom
life was unbearable.

Even opium didn't help.

Killed himself
just after we got engaged.

So I started going out every night

to get drunk on music, and to dance.

That's when I met Django.

He blew me away.

I forgot my sorrow with him.

Listen to that beauty.

That's the blues.

- Are you bored?
- Not with you. Never.

I feel like dancing.

- Let me invite you.
- You're next.

Officer?

Please.

We must arrest more of them.

We mustn't allow them to take action.

- May I?
- Of course.

I couldn't wait.

This monkey music makes people crazy!

Stop the concert immediately.

Stop the music.

Stop!

Hammerstein!

Get everyone out!

On the double!

Come.

Thank you, Django.

I'm afraid.

Don't be.

Nightingale received instructions.

I'm afraid for you.

You have changed. I was wrong.

We won't meet again?

Of course. You know me,
I go and come back...

Like the java.

Open up!

Come out!

See you at Pigalle.

Colonel? The phone lines were cut.

What's going on?

Resistance fighters
blew up a German train.

What?

When?

40 minutes ago.

Trains were derailed.
There's a lot of damage.

Where are you going, dear?

- Let go.
- This way.

Let go of me!

Pity.

You were such a good dancer.

Run, Django!

Torch it.

Reinhardt!

What are you doing?

Come on, hurry up.

Switzerland is on the other side.

I'm spent.

I'll never make it.

Heron, come help me.

Too steep for them.

Something wrong?

She's right. They won't make it.

I can't... I'm too tired.

Negros is exhausted.

You can hide all 3 of us.

You can't give up now.
You're almost there.

If they catch you, you're dead.

Nightingale will take care of us.

We'll meet Joseph in Toulon.

Are you sure?

Forgive me.

Go on, Django.

Wait.

- What?
- Listen.

Dogs!

A patrol!

Wait.

- We'll split up.
- Wait.

It's our only chance.

Keep climbing.

Cross the forest.

You'll be in Switzerland.

- Good luck.
- Wait!

Paris May 1945

"Requiem for Gypsy Brothers"
was played at the Liberation

in the chapel
of the Institute for Blind Children.

Django Reinhardt dedicated it
to all gypsies

persecuted during the Second World War.

The score was lost.
Only a few measures remain.