Fabian: Going to the Dogs (2021) - full transcript

BASED ON THE NOVEL BY ERICH KÄSTNER

OR

GOING TO THE DOGS

Berliner Zeitung!

VOTE

What's wrong...

comrade?

- What's wrong, comrade?
- Damn the war!

Damn the...

war!

30 marks entry fee.
Private visits cost extra.



- Can I look around first?
- For a lady of particular qualities?

I like blondes,
but they're bad news.

- Drinks are included? How nice.
- Yes.

Good evening.

This establishment
initiates acquaintances.

The ladies enjoy the same rights
as the gentlemen.

Couples are requested to leave
if they wish to be undisturbed.

I'll look after you.

Got a light?

"Thanks, how pushy of you,"
my father would've said.

- What's your name?
- Fabian. Jakob Fabian.

- Isn't that a bit much?
- Why?

- Two first names?
- Better than one.

Well, then...



I really like you.

And what is your name?

Moll.

Irene Moll, even.

So people with a good education
have something to laugh at.

I don't get it.

No problem. You don't need an education.

- But maybe I have one.
- Really?

So?

"Irene". In Latin, "The peaceful one"?

And does "Moll" mean anything to you?

That means "minor key".
But "major" seems more appropriate.

Let's get a taxi.

Lights out!

- Love is a hobby.
- For which you use your body.

It's stuck.

I wanted to write a note
before death by strangling.

Don't be so coy!

Now, what did the woman have in mind?

Fabian was 32 years old
and got around plenty at night.

This night, too, had its appeal.

We're getting there. I'll be right back.

- Don't run away.
- ...she said, and went away.

Thirsty, he had carried a cup
in his hand through these nights,

but it was empty
and he was no longer able to bear it.

Time to slaughter the little fellow.

I must interrupt.

I hate to disturb you,

but could we talk in my office?

- Who are you?
- Moll.

Yes.

Just sign it, quickly.

I'm glad to get to know
such a pleasant young man.

The circumstances
are both usual and unusual.

Don't wear him out. I need him!

A year after we married,
Mrs. Moll and I made a contract.

Clause 4 says:
"The female party shall introduce

"anyone she wishes
to enter into intimate relations with

"to her husband, Dr. Felix Moll.

"Should he express disapproval
of said person,

"Mrs. Moll is instructed
to immediately forgo her intentions."

We quickly realized her sexual needs

grew with every year of our marriage.

My wife's nether regions
became too much for me.

Stay, you won't regret it!

How about a monthly wage too?

- It's an option. I'm not poor!
- No.

What a pity! The keys, to get out.

At 5 a.m.,

Fabian decided
to shave off his mustache.

He then returned to bed.
It was a Monday.

After two boring and fruitless
work days,

he woke up troubled
on Wednesday morning.

His heart was beating madly,
pounding under his pajamas,

throbbing in his throat,
rapping on his skull.

The war! Damn the war!

He may have got off lightly
with just a weak heart,

but that was enough for Fabian.

Good morning. In a hurry?

- Yes, we'll talk Friday.
- Good morning.

Morning.

- A parcel from your mother.
- Morning, Mrs. Hohlfeld.

- I hope the noise didn't keep you up.
- I didn't hear it.

- You're late.
- Yes.

- Tell me, is there a new boarder?
- Yes.

Since yesterday.
Bit loud, but they'll get used to us.

We're decent people, right?

Yes. On the topic of decency:

- Did you read yesterday's evening paper?
- No.

- May I read it to you?
- Yes.

"Berlin, 3 June 1931.

"A 16-year-old girl
was arrested in Wedding.

"She had organized young men to steal,
slept with them all."

Let me go!

"She infected all ten.

"Two members of the gang suffocated
a clockmaker in his bed last week.

"Olga, the 16-year-old,
lay next to him naked,

"holding a meat cleaver.

"The man was 50
and known to many local girls.

"He'd been to bed with all of them
and taken nude photos.

"Photos were seized

"and silk underwear, garters

"and stockings were found.

"The police also stated that
the girl is five months pregnant.

"They all confessed, with no regrets.

"It is unclear
who the child's father is."

Now I ask you, Mrs. Hohlfeld,

does the world have capacity for decency?

Will you bear my rent in mind?

Constantly.

It could not continue like this.

Soon, perhaps when he'd almost lost hope,
Fate would be merciful to him

and fill up the empty cup in his hands.

Soon.

Then...

Then, but when?

He looked down on the street.

Why was he in this
strange, godforsaken room?

80 marks a month, with morning coffee,
electricity extra.

With Widow Hohlfeld,
who didn't use to need boarders.

Why wasn't he at home with his mother?

FABIAN'S FINE SOAPS

What was he looking for in this city?
In this crazy box of bricks?

Writing nonsense to encourage people
to smoke more cigarettes.

He could await Europe's doom
in the place where he was born.

BUILT DURING THE WORLD WAR

Morning, Mrs. Böttcher!

NO SMOKING

Good morning, Mr. Fischer.

Of course,
Fabian arrived at the office late.

His idiotic colleague
was eating second breakfast.

Any idea for it?

Nothing. Nothing...

Nothing...

Nothing... Nothing is greater...

Greater... Greater and grander...

Grander... So grand... So very grand...

Towering... Towering high...

Kurmark... Kurmark, unattainable.

What's going on with Ohser and Knauf?

- Gone. Dismissed.
- They've been here far longer than me.

Any idea if he read my contest idea?

Shall I present it again when I see him?

Yes, why not? Yes. Thank you.

SUMMER

Hello, ladies.

SPRING

AUTUMN

It's open.

Where were you last week?

Yes, good. Thanks.

In Hamburg. Leda says hello.

And how is the bride-to-be?

We'll talk about that later.

Have you heard from the Professor?
Has he read your thesis?

- No, I haven't submitted it yet.
- What? Why?

I read through it, a third time.

Why?

- It's all there.
- He has no time anyway.

- Post-docs, tests, lectures, seminars...
- It's all here!

Relax. They'll realize
they never understood the man.

Not until you came along.

Well...

psychologically evaluating
a dead writer.

I dissected you for five years.

Then I pieced you back together,
you old Saxon, Gotthold Ephraim.

- You must let it go.
- Together.

We'll submit it together. Now.

- Yes!
- Yes!

- Remember the smell?
- Uh-huh.

Like in a monkey house.

These twits have it good.

Handing in.

Come in.

Hello.

- Good day.
- The Professor is traveling.

I know, but send him my regards,
and I wish him an inspiring read.

Dr. Fabian,
do you want to enroll here again?

Not on your life.

- Hi.
- Pardon.

Weckherlin!

You had your noggin shaved!
Put a pot on top, slice half of it off!

Lots of people have it.

Asylum haircut.
Matches your inner being.

What are you saying?

Munch away. Those greasy fingers
will be on my thesis.

- You actually submitted it?
- God, yes!

Mrs. Menasse put it at the bottom.
Could you do something?

Like what?

Move it higher up,
for a night at Uncle Pelle's.

- Okay.
- You need to get out.

I don't. Man...

needs only a homeland, no more.

Puzzling remark
for such a pitiful character, right?

Pension Hohlfeld.

Schaperstrasse 4.

Labude was a moral man.

But his fiancé in Hamburg
had spoiled his morals.

- Is Eden still open?
- I think it's called Hell now.

Just the crust.

- Shall we go in?
- Are you mad?

His spiritual program was in peril.
He had lost his boundaries.

You nut.

- Anything more on offer?
- Like what?

I'm at home for a reason.
I'm tired.

He wanted to live blindly
like his friend.

But it made him despair.

"The same train carries us all
And time passes as we go

"We peer out, we see, we saw

"The same train carries us all
How far we'll travel we do not know

"One neighbour sleeps, another laments
A third talks unceasingly"

- "Stations came and went."
- "Stations came and went."

"Yet the train racing across the years
At its goal will never be."

There are certain rules in my house!

Yes, pardon me.

- I wish you a good night.
- Good night.

Mr. Fabian? Are you there?

- Yes, Mrs. Hohlfeld.
- That's good.

Sunday night.

"Let's go to the Anonymous Cabaret!"
Labude said after returning from Hamburg.

"What is that?"

"I haven't been yet.
A resourceful fellow started it.

"Half-mad people off the street
sing and dance.

"He pays them a few marks
to get jeered at by the audience.

"Patrons pay for the thrill
of seeing people who are crazier

"than they themselves are."

Someone wants you on the phone!

Mother, your baby's crying!

Miss, come beat my carpets tomorrow!

She said the Hamburg-Berlin trip
is too hard on her soul.

She says we always clash sexually too.

When she wants me, I'm not there.

When I am, lovemaking is like lunch
whether you're hungry or not.

She said I shouldn't be angry with her,

but she had a medical procedure
some weeks ago.

She wants to give birth to our children
when we're married, not before.

She didn't tell me about the accident
so as not to scare me.

Fine. But whose child
did she get rid of?

I asked her that.

Which man slept at hers last night?

She said I'm imagining it,
that it's ridiculous.

She said I should lie down with her,
she had a yearning.

I slapped her and left.

Stephan!

- I feel like I've been very ill.
- You are ill.

You still love her.

I've handled heftier fellows
than myself.

The matter's settled.

The piano rhapsody was over,
but not the dance.

The girl onstage

scowled at the pianist and hopped.

A man came out of the wings,
dragged the dancer off the stage...

and took center stage himself.

Girl sweat!

- Stop that!
- Quiet, you fools!

- That's going too far!
- Sit!

Do you know what you are? An idiot.

By the way,
I don't mean "idiot" offensively.

Fabian didn't know, but only ten minutes
stood between him and love.

- How does this work?
- The glasses are there.

You have to do it yourselves.

There's the drinks menu and glasses.

- Help yourself.
- And what's your job?

- I watch the till.
- Now, another man.

- Name of Paul Müller!
- I know him!

He claims to be a poet,
rather than a comedian.

Paul Müller, take the stage!

It's a different Paul Müller.

- Hello, Müller.
- Don't fall off!

"The Drive into Death" by Paul Müller.

"There was a Count of Hohenstein
Who did lock..."

Now only five minutes remained.

"A handsome officer she did love...
His car..."

People threw lumps of sugar
on the stage.

People grew bored.

The recited verse

was a drama involving nobility.

One foggy night
two lovers

drive towards each other unknowingly.

Quiet!

What do you think you're doing?

"Ugh!" said Fabian.
"Sadists in the crowd, loonies onstage."

...now the chanteuse...

Next up, please.

Come up!

Yes!

Sod you all!

BE RIGHT BACK
HANDS OFF!

♪ Later, later not even the faintest trace ♪

♪ Of the carriage is left to see ♪

♪ No one, no one will bother... ♪

♪ No one, no one will bother asking
Who drove along... ♪

Two more minutes.

♪ Every word that we utter ♪

♪ Rustles only like the trees ♪

♪ And the song that did ring out ♪

♪ On the harmonica ♪

♪ Will one day be sung by the wind ♪

♪ And will merely sound like la-la-la ♪

- ♪ And will merely sound like la-la-la-la-la ♪
- Stop!

Is anyone here?

HIGH POWER

Are you looking for something?

Are you hiding?

I'm not hiding. I'm distancing myself.

And love never ends!

I work at the bar,
but I'm on my break.

♪ No one, no one will bother asking
Who drove along... ♪

Excuse me. Excuse me.

Sorry.

For me too, please.

Actually from Bremen, the young lady

had conjured up
her most rousing Siberian accent.

Mouth shut,

or sawdust will fall out of your skull.

Who are you?

A popping cork
inspired a burly neighbour...

to violently compete for the girl
with the plastered nose.

Labude, however, did not relent.

As they fled, he asked
where she got the nose.

Jacques Joseph Beautification.

...she replied.

- A married man paid for it.
- You fop!

- No, stop!
- Go on!

Fabian said, "Dance-hall scraps
are just like political brawls."

Fire!

"Both are perversions
of German society."

Stop! That was wrong.

♪ Germany, France, Friesland, Flanders... ♪

Oh, no! Not her again.

♪ Should there croon another singer ♪

♪ Tenderly in your lover's ear ♪

♪ Then we won't care any longer ♪

♪ Who is now another's dear ♪

Don't be so pathetic. Show us your ID.

Call themselves men.

Touch them and they fall apart.

Ladies, we need brothels with men!

Raise your hand if you agree!

She's quite a number!

- Out of place here in her posh robes.
- Let's sing!

- Naked underneath.
- The piano music song!

Drags young men home.

♪ Even man is just a beast... ♪

- ♪ Always and truly as a pair ♪
- If you're going to do it, do it right!

♪ Come play a tune on my breast ♪

♪ An exercise in ♪

♪ being in ♪

♪ heat, heat, heat... ♪

- You all right?
- Yes.

For womankind!

Never come
back here again!

Such is life. Music!

- I know you.
- She knows you?

- You have my keys!
- No! Well, yes. Her name's Moll.

- Her husband pays men to bed her.
- Why do you have her keys?

The door was locked. Here. Excuse me.

Mrs. Moll, you're looking for your keys.
Here you are.

VOTE FOR THÄLMANN!

Yes, here's good. Let me out here. Stop!

Hey!

Thanks.

Good evening.

Evening.

Where are you going?

Why is that violent guy your friend?

You don't even know him.

- I see egocentrics without knowing them.
- Yes.

But Labude had bad luck.

He traveled to Hamburg
and saw his future wife cheating on him.

He wanted to marry.
He likes organizing things.

His family future is calculated
down to the minutest detail.

Worst of all, it took him five years
to realize that she wasn't cheating

due to his absence,
but because she never loved him.

She liked him,
but he wasn't her type.

The opposite can happen.

You can be attracted to a person,
but still not want them around.

So it never happens
that someone is perfect in every way?

You shouldn't hope for too much.

They continued on their way.
Fabian didn't know where she lived.

He let her guide him,
although he knew the area better.

So what brought you
to Sodom and Gomorrah?

I'm a lawyer in training.

Which area?

My thesis is in international film law.

A big film company
let me start in its legal department.

120 marks a month, four-week trial.

Why don't you act?
In front of the camera.

Does one exclude the other?

Lawyer-to-be and barmaid
wants to be a star.

SLENDER AND SPICY

I'm no angel, sir.

People have no time
for angels these days.

When we love a man,
we give ourselves to him.

We part with all that went before
and go to him.

"Here I am,"
we say with a friendly smile.

"Yes, here you are,"

he says, scratching behind his ear.

"Lord!" he thinks.
"Now I'm stuck with her."

Light-heartedly,
we give him all we possess,

but he curses.

Our gifts are a burden to him.

First he curses quietly, then loudly.

And we're more alone than ever.

I'm 25 years old and two men left me,
like an intentionally forgotten umbrella.

Does my candor disturb you?

Certainly not.

Could you tell me what time it is?

- Ten past twelve.
- Thanks.

Then I've got to hurry.

Do you by chance
have 50 pfennigs to spare?

Yes.

Just by chance. Here.

- There you go.
- Thanks a lot.

I won't have to sleep
at the Salvation Army tonight.

A well-bred young man.

Asks for the time first, then for money.

- Even the moon shines in this city.
- ...noted the international film lawyer.

But you're wrong.

Moonshine, the smell of flowers, silence
and a kiss in the archway...

There, in that café,
whores sit with their pimps.

The inhabitants of this city of stone
have long since made it a madhouse.

Crime in the east, roguery in the center,
poverty in the north,

depravity in the west.

- Ruin lurks at every point on the compass.
- And what comes after ruin?

Stupidity.

Stupidity arrived already where I'm from.
But what is one to do?

Whoa! Where did he come from?

All right.

- Here?
- Mm-hm.

- Don't you want to lock it?
- It isn't mine.

This is where I live.

May I meet you again?

- Do you really want to?
- Yes.

On the condition that you also want to.

All right.

Would you take it the wrong way
if I asked you to come up briefly?

The room is still unfamiliar
and dark trees sway outside the window.

- I'd like to.
- Yeah?

Yes.

- I worry you have taken it the wrong way.
- Uh-uh.

She pushed the door open
and he turned on the stairwell lights.

Oh! He'd nearly given himself away.

But she suspected nothing,
went ahead,

actually stopped
outside Widow Hohlfeld's door

and opened it.

Two young girls were playing football
with balloons in the hallway.

Libidinous traveling salesman Mr. Tröger
exited the toilet,

appearing in his pajamas.

Mr. Fabian?

Good night.

- We have no space.
- What's the holdup?

It's lovely here!

- Inside!
- Tröger sent the girls into his seraglio.

And locked the door behind him.

80 marks per month.

I pay just as much for mine.

I get the neighbours for free.

Drill a hole in the wall,
ask for admission.

- Enough.
- No!

I'm hard.

I'm so glad you came in with me.

The room is even more ghastly
when I'm alone.

- Do you want to look at the scary trees?
- Yes.

Even the trees are kinder today.

- Now you think this is why I asked you in.
- Sure.

- But you didn't know it yourself yet.
- Yes.

Well...

What's your name?

Cornelia.

Now I have to start over again. Wait.

Do you remember when you said...

you wanted to punish men
for their egoism?

- Uh-huh.
- Yes?

I'll make an exception for you.

I get the feeling I could love you.

I cried earlier on.

I know.

Because I'm fond of you.

But my fondness for you
is my own affair, not yours.

Right, now I'm hungry.

But there's a problem.
I have nothing to eat here.

I couldn't know I'd get so hungry
so quickly in this horrible city.

Then...

we'll have to burgle.

- My picklock.
- What? Don't.

- Yes!
- Fabian!

- Go! Who lives here?
- I'm fine. Don't!

Stop it!

Stop it! Stop!

Where are you? What are you doing?

Fabian?

Mr. Fabian now welcomes

Miss Battenberg to his chambers.

- No!
- ...she said.

- That's not possible!
- Yes.

Now she believed it,
and danced a folk dance.

That dance has to be loud.

...said the international film law expert.

The menu, please.

The menu.

Of course.

Here are the starters.

Is it good? Right, here you go.

Are you hungry, too? Tuck in!

- Where did you get all this?
- From home.

- Good, right?
- Crunchy.

No! Don't!

I like kisses for dessert.

- I'll have three kisses.
- I'll get them.

They'll be glad to see me on time
at the office for once.

- Come here.
- Yes.

- I'll take one.
- There you are.

Bye.

KURMARK
DIRECTOR BREITKOPF

How is the mood?

Yes... Dear God, come in.

It has to pop out
when you open the paper.

Yes.

Good. We'll stay on it.

You wanted to talk to me?

KURMARK CONTEST

- Were you late today?
- No.

The truth.

Seven minutes.

Do you have a second occupation?

You'd need approval.
Do you know your contract?

Yes, but I...
have a second occupation anyway.

I knew it.

- What do you do?
- I live.

Hanging around in bars and dance halls.
You call that living?

You don't respect life.

Not my own. That's true.

You don't get that
and it isn't your concern.

Forget it.

I need you to help me.

You have delicate fingers.

The doctor said I have to re-bandage it
every four hours.

You've seen a man before, right?

The wound's in the southern regions.

Here.

Yes.

No put the ointment on it.

It looks like a party manifesto.

Brown on the right, red on the left,

the middle a hardly discernible
mishmash.

Stop it. Laughing hurts.

The ointment is on.
Now we need a new gauze pad.

- Know why an appendix is like a socialist?
- No.

You're better off without it.

- Careful! That'll do.
- Sorry.

- Right.
- Thanks.

- So, no time to consider the contest idea?
- Of course.

- Top-notch idea.
- Nice.

We'll discuss it at the board meeting.

Your colleague's ideas
make him indispensable.

No, the idea was mine.

But Fischer came to me first.
Or am I wrong?

No, of course not.
He's fast and talented.

You're also talented, Fabian.

But I do wonder
why you work here for us.

- I don't understand...
- You don't want to work here.

Your talents are of a literary nature.
We need go-getters here.

- Not writers bent on aesthetics.
- You can't be serious. That's...

- No, the contest was my idea.
- Don't annoy me.

- It was my idea!
- I'll give you 50 marks extra.

On top of the usual 200.

- You're firing me?
- I think it's the best thing for you.

Effective immediately?

I wish you all the best.

Seriously.

Dr. Fabian, Jakob.

Employed three years,
resides at Schaperstrasse 4.

- Correct?
- Yes.

The director said
I'd get 50 marks on top.

I don't know about that,
but you were repeatedly late.

That's punished with 15 marks
docked pay. So you get 185 marks.

15 marks for being late
a few times in three years?

I should get 50 marks more, not 15 less.

Why must you always be so loud?

You remain employed
until the end of the month.

And I'll solve the 50-mark issue
by this afternoon.

Please sign here.

What shall I do now?

I don't know. Physical labor?

Sorry.

LUNCH BREAK

Move to the side. There.

Thank you!

Excuse me?

First time here?

I've been doing this for 11 months.

Eastern front, Linsingen group.
Operation Faustschlag.

I was there till Kiev,
then I got torn up.

I'm sorry.

Three-day siege. It was a joke really.

They couldn't counter us.

But then,
just when you think you're safe...

Grenade came from a potato cellar.
I was peeing.

- It goes all the way to the second floor.
- It's moving.

- Did you serve?
- Uh-huh.

Foot Artillery, 19th Regiment.

Ah, a Saxon. You see?

Now we're waiting for handouts.

- It sure is dark, eh?
- Move up!

Rudi, you still there, or what's wrong?

- Does that cause you trouble?
- What's not there can't bother you.

Nights are worst.

Bees buzz in my head
when I close my eyes.

War, inflation and unemployment.

You get emaciated.

Not just the body, the mind too.

Get down!

- Is this political?
- The Reds!

Yes, tremendous.
Could you wrap it up nicely?

Certainly.

- 60, right?
- Yes.

There.

Be careful!

I'll try my best, thanks.

10, 20, 30, 40, 60, 80,

100, 120...

140, 160.

- For May and June.
- Only July is missing.

I'll pay it later.

Finally.

Like it?

Oh, how nice!

Tell me when there's something
to admire.

New dress? Do I know those earrings?

Was your hair parted that way yesterday?

I don't notice what I like.
You have to point it out to me.

Sorry, I have no money for delicacies.

- Do you like brawn?
- Picture it as something else.

I always wondered
what a Holstein Schnitzel is.

First, floured veal is fried in butter.

Then you add two eggs
and fry them as well.

You then add capers,
and garnish with sardines in oil.

Then the smoked salmon is added.

- Beetroot and beans?
- Yes, those too.

And croutons.

Sadly, that isn't served
in this restaurant.

The emergency ration.

Now I'd like to invite you
to a digestive.

I'm sorry, sir? Pardon me.

- What do you think you're doing?
- I just want...

No, I don't want to leave. It's just...

- Leave, I said!
- I have money!

Out!

What are you doing?

Hands off that gentleman!

Hands off him!

There you are!
I'm so sorry for the mix-up.

Come on. Unbelievable!

- Miss Battenberg.
- Madam.

- Hello.
- Would you like to eat something?

- Want a beer?
- Very kind.

- But you'll get into trouble.
- Rubbish. Here, the menu.

Pick something.

- I can't. They'll grab me and kick me out.
- No.

They won't. Pull yourself together.

Your jacket's old and you're hungry,
but you can still sit upright.

It's your own fault
nobody lets you in the door.

- Do you want one?
- Oh, yes.

You see it differently
after years without work.

I sleep in a dosshouse
on the Engel embankment.

The welfare office pays me ten marks.

My stomach is sick from all the caviar.

- What's your trade?
- A bank clerk, I believe.

I've been to prison too.

Lord, I've been so many places!

The only thing I've not experienced
is suicide.

But there's still time.

Being unemployed is normal these days.

Fabian didn't know what to say.

He ran through sentences, none fit.
He got up.

I think the waiter wants to talk to me.

Right, that'll do. Is there a problem?

That man is my guest.

I'll be right back.

Pardon me.

LEARN TO SWIM

"...I sleep in a dosshouse
on the Engel embankment..."

You're unemployed?
Is that right?

Mm-hm.

Yes, I was fired.

A short time ago
I'd have laughed about it.

Life is beautiful.

What do you think about fidelity?

Swallow before using grand words.

I think I'm only waiting
for a chance to be faithful.

Until last week
I thought I was ruined for that.

That's a declaration of love.

If you cry now
I'll tan your hide.

- I'm crying.
- Just you wait...

Come here.

My love, my love!

Don't worry.
We'll sell something if we have to.

I know not if tomorrow I shall live,

but if tomorrow I do live,
I certainly know I shall drink.

Back to the text.

Lessing asks:

"Do we not often find ourselves
in company we must abide

"that seems as insufferably boring
as time spent on our sickbed?"

Today we must answer
that we are tired of being a society

that is on its sickbed.

We're progressing.
We mustn't stall, we must act.

We're joining
Hamburg, Frankfurt and Tübingen.

Our demands are clear.

Voluntary cuts to private profit,

increased social benefits,
cultural immersion in child rearing.

Fear and hatred
must no longer scream louder

than the mind and heart.

Don't forget this lesson.

The age of human dignity is dawning.

Thank you.

Be careful or they'll lock you up.
And they'll be glad to.

Organize the system wisely,
and people will adapt to it.

I'm glad you can work freely
to achieve your political aims again.

But don't be angry if I don't believe
reason and power will ever unite.

They will if power is used
in the people's interest.

What use is your divine system
if men remain swine?

- The reasonable and just won't gain power.
- We must at least risk it!

Try it!

The worst thing is you have no ambition.

I observe. Is that nothing?

- Whom does it help?
- Who can be helped?

- Dinner, stay here!
- She wants to be an actress.

Another one?

At night I dream I'll lose her.

I'm ashamed of my fear.

You understand, right?

Yes.

What happens will happen.
You can't influence it.

The book of love already says
which of you will leave the other.

Sit yourself down and write.

- Go to the labor exchange.
- I did.

They told me I'm not unemployed yet.
I can go back in a month.

You can't stand here.

Here either.

- You can here.
- Yes, thanks.

- Are you all right?
- Yes.

- Know what I dream of, Miss Battenberg?
- What?

The novel the wonderful person
next to you can write.

Modern. Clearly structured.

Avant-garde!

The stupid thing about avant-garde
is it has to be avant-gardist.

I have to get out.

I'm sinking.

You swim like a dog.

- It's not one of his strengths.
- But he does have others.

When did we first meet?

That was...

- Twenty-five days ago.
- Yes.

What was that?

Sorry.

Sorry!

One Labude comes, one goes. Hi, Stephan.

I'm off for a few days
to calm my nerves.

How are you? How is Hamburg?
Oh! You don't look well.

Troubles?

Any postdoctoral thesis news?
No? You boring bunch!

Mr. Fabian, it's been a while.

- Still in advertising?
- Yes.

Lighten up, young man!

So many serious discussions!
Is there life after death and so on.

There isn't.
You have to live beforehand.

I assume Mother is in Lugano?

Yes, she can stay longer.

There's a reason it's called Paradiso.

Labude's father was a defense lawyer.

His clients had lots of money and trials,
so he did, too.

When will your nose heal?

The excitement of his work
did not satisfy him.

He went to gambling halls
almost nightly.

He greatly abhorred the peacefulness
that pervaded his house.

I always expect the servant
to bring slippers.

- Are his parents separated?
- No.

But their mutual fondness grows
with the distance between them.

Take whatever you need.

Stay out of it.

- Want one, too?
- Mm-hm.

- Why didn't you say he's so rich?
- What would it change?

What would it change?

Only joking!

I see.

How far is it?

- Walking distance.
- Five minutes?

Three, and we're there.

Georg?

This is how you load.

One, two.

- Two triggers. One, two.
- Let me see to that.

You're left-handed. Set it down.
Come round to the other side.

Glass, Georg. Left in front.

- My foot?
- Yes.

- Put weight on it.
- Like so?

Take over.

- Up. Finger off the trigger.
- Oh! Sorry.

- Cheek to the stock.
- That was the cork.

Yes.

A bit lower.

A bit more.

Good.

And now?

The target appears, we follow.

- First shot, second shot.
- Okay.

- Good.
- Start at the foot of the first birch.

- Say the word, Fabian lets them fly.
- Shall I say "go"?

- Let them fly.
- Thanks.

Are you ready?

- Are you ready?
- Yes.

Let them fly.

Shoot!

Yes?

- You're talented.
- Yes.

With practice.

- With lots of it, right?
- Try yourself.

No. I won't touch a thing like that.

Nobody is forced to shoot.

But I shoot
because I didn't learn anything else.

Let them fly!

- Very good shot.
- Load.

Yes.

- Up!
- Yes, hold on.

Another hit.

Load.

Your heart is racing.

I understand.

I get it.

No one can get it.

It can't be understood.

It's fine.

Can I leave you alone briefly?
So I can sort myself out.

The sandwiches were tasty.

What's wrong,

comrade?

Damn the war!

Damn the war!

Damn the war!

Out there in the countryside

there are still isolated buildings,

in which maimed soldiers still lie...

soldiers still lie,
men without limbs.

Men with monstrous faces,

without noses or mouths.

There are nurses
who shy away from nothing.

They funnel sustenance
into those deformed creatures through...

thin glass tubes.

They pierce them
through badly scarred holes

where a mouth once was.

A mouth that could laugh and speak

and scream.

I fell asleep.

You have to sign.

I drew up a contract for us.

Oh, dear!

I LOVE CORNELIA AND WILL NEVER
STAND IN THE WAY OF HER CAREER.

DATE: 4 JULY 1931

- We're kindred spirits.
- All right.

What does your father do?

He rescues people in dire straits.

Thanks.

Mosquito on your calf.

Fabian, come here!

Fabian?

Mr. Jakob Fabian!

- Unless you need me, I'll take my leave.
- Georg, you have tomorrow off.

Are you glad when you have a day off?
You are, right?

- Good evening, sir.
- Likewise.

What are you doing?

She was dropped as a baby.

Careful, the lake!

- He's not a good swimmer.
- That's not true.

What?

Nothing. I'll save you.

I couldn't take any longer.

I'll ask questions
our friend dares not ask.

- What? Labude, please don't.
- You agree? Wonderful!

You can leave out one question,
but must answer the rest.

First question. Where are you from?

Paris mornings are Campari orange.

Paris.

She answers in riddles.

Where do you want to go? In life.

No answer.

Why another actress in these times?

How does it benefit society?

Not at all. Hopefully. Useless beauty.

What do you expect of Fabian's novel?

Firstly, that I'll be in it.

And secondly...

that the language is so powerful
that not a word can be changed,

and that there's not a sentence too many
and not a metaphor too contrived.

I expect his novel to distil reality
down to its essence, so the entirety...

It's lovely that you two know
what I should write.

Not so much what as how.

Not so much how as what.

Eschew formalism.

Cornelia Battenberg,
I grant you permission

to enter into a marriage-like bond
with Jakob Fabian.

If, however, Fabian unexpectedly proves
unworthy of you,

you'll immediately become my possession.

Although property is actually...

theft.

Are you all right?

Are you all right?

Poor me has to marry mean old Mr. Labude
if I don't behave.

Impressive, Miss Battenberg.

Formidable.

I'd love to see the sunrise.

Campari orange.

Your parents' beds
are positioned strangely.

They've never spent the night
in that room together.

Cornelia is going to audition for a role
at her film company.

A director discovered her.
Makart. Know him?

Uh-uh. Is he famous?

- Makes movies with Dietrich.
- Oh!

She really wants to do it.

It's not surprising.
She seems to have talent.

But she's too clever to be an actress.
You'll end up in a cozy home.

Write her a scene for the audition.

She'll think highly of you.

Sorry, things went on a bit long
at the office.

Hello, darling. Do you drink at work?

Fischer treated us for his birthday.

- Did you give him a gift?
- No, why?

- I can't bear him.
- I give my neighbours birthday gifts.

The air is stifling.
Can't you air properly?

Sit down.
You're making me nervous.

Your father forgets to air too.
It stops you thinking properly!

It's nice that you're here.

What do you listen to in Berlin?

What do we listen to in Berlin? Hm...

Weintraubs Syncopators.

Syncopators?

Nice.

How do you dance to it?

- No. I can't do it.
- Come on, I'll lead!

One, two, three, four,
five, six, seven, eight...

- And then kick.
- Kick?

One, two, three, four, kick!

- Kick!
- Kick!

And now we jump.

- ♪ Whenever I'm a happy guy... ♪
- One, two, three, four, five, six...

One, two, three, four, five, six...

And turn!

Bravo.

- Hello, Cornelia Battenberg.
- Fabian.

A pleasure.
That's my gramophone, still.

We only have two records.
I've pawned the rest.

Tomorrow the gramophone goes.
Who needs it?

Well...

- My son wrote to me about you.
- He writes beautifully, doesn't he?

- You can dance with me too.
- I will. Now?

Yes.

One, two, three...

- We should go. My treat.
- Yes. I mean certainly not.

Yes. I hope that's fine with you?

- Not at all.
- Wait one moment.

- For me?
- Mm-hm.

- May I?
- Yes.

It was meant for your birthday,
but now is a good occasion.

I didn't say anything.

Fabian!

I'll put it on. Do we have time?

Of course!

- She calls you by your surname?
- Yes. Everyone here does.

- Yes, but only reasonable questions.
- How much was the dress?

I wouldn't be so sure about that.

No, it isn't him.

- Enjoy!
- Enjoy!

HITLER ON ANNIVERSARY OF CONSTITUTION
WEDNESDAY, 12 AUGUST 1931

Where's Labude?

- Didn't you tell him I'd come today?
- He had to travel to Hamburg.

- You can take that.
- Certainly.

It's draughty!

Leave the menu. We'll get a new one.

- Nice here, right?
- Tasty.

Mother, could you come please?
Excuse me.

- Anything free?
- It's all taken.

- Outside?
- Can I have a cigarette?

Oh, Jakob,
the evening sun is shining over there.

Where, there?

- I see.
- Sure.

- To what?
- I'll regret whatever I don't say.

- To all of us?
- Yes.

- I like that. To the three of us.
- To us.

Dramatists, costume designers,
production heads, directors...

You walk the corridors thinking

it must be full of important people.

They're all elegant,
educated and attractive

and work towards one goal.

Your cheeks are really pink.

- You noticed something new about me!
- Yes.

- Did you enjoy it?
- Yes, it was grand.

- Very good.
- Dessert is fresh apricot dumplings.

Keep quiet! It's just a few questions.

- And crème bavaroise.
- Crème bavaroise...

Could you tell me what time it is?

Can you tell me what time it is?

- Both for all three?
- No.

- Both three times.
- You don't have to.

- You don't have much yourself.
- Don't insult me.

Crème bavaroise.

Crème bavaroise.

THE SUCCESSFUL PRODUCER
EDWIN MAKART!!!

"SHE'S SITTING IN THE GARDEN."

- "THAT'S MAKART."
- "WHERE?"

Cigarette? What? You don't smoke?

- I've never tried it.
- Never?

No.

I'll just say hello and introduce you.

And then... Again!

- A unique taste.
- You get used to it.

Miss Battenberg!

Good evening. You, here?

- Evening.
- Wonderful to see you. Sorry.

How rude. Cornelia Battenberg,
international film law.

Very talented.

She's doing test shots soon.
Might be a new star.

- Is this your little brother?
- Jakob Fabian, author.

I see! Very impressive.

And the two of you...

you are...

Well, make some room. Have a drink.

Evening.

- We'll make room.
- It's fine. My mother is there.

- I have to go back.
- Your mother. How nice.

- It'd be nice if you stayed.
- Wave to his mother!

- Hello!
- Okay? I'll go back.

- You really don't want anything? Later?
- Sure.

- Your mother is very welcome, too.
- Thanks.

So? She'll stay there?

Yes, briefly. It's work related.

That's how it is in film.

- Aren't you well?
- Oh, I am.

I was just thinking about something,
to write down tonight.

- She'll come later.
- You can stay, too. I'll get home fine.

When my mother comes to visit me
I take care of her.

Let's go.

- It was nice, right?
- Yes, but...

- You can stay here.
- Mother, stop. Come.

I missed you.

I missed you, too.

Your father will be glad
to see you again.

- I know.
- We have a vacancy at our newspaper.

- Good evening.
- Oh, yes. Good evening.

I have a job here.

- Cornelia wouldn't come to Dresden.
- I said it. You can think about it.

We'll find champagne
for Cornelia in Dresden.

GANG CAUGHT
SCENE OF CRIME: CLOCKMAKER'S BED

Is she sleeping?

Yes.

Should I have behaved differently?

No, why?

I got it.

Makart is your protector.

Someone was spying on us
that first night, right?

On the street.

I'd like to have known
about that sooner.

There's nothing to know, Fabian.

You know that I can't stagnate.

He can give me a career.
I need to know if I want that.

I don't get it.

How long have you been at his company?

You sometimes say it's been a long time,
then you say a few weeks.

Did you even study? Did you?

- What?
- How long ago did he discover you?

Don't say anything.

You keep your options open in life.

He wants me to move out.

He'll pay for a suitable flat.

He says.

What are we to do?
Neither of us has money!

What money did you buy the dress with?

Or did you steal it?

- What?
- I saw you at the coat rack.

- Did you steal from your friend?
- I didn't steal from Labude.

I bought the dress weeks ago,
but I still haven't paid the rent.

I thought I'd get work
from Zacharias' paper. Nothing.

I'm sorry.

Sorry.

Listen, we'll make it. Yeah?

- Yeah?
- Yes.

Let's be as unscrupulous as Olga's gang.

Yeah? From Wedding.

We'll take everything
from the Babelsberg bigwigs. Yeah?

Babelsberg is our bank.

- Yeah?
- Yes.

I'll prepare the cleaver
in case Makart wants it otherwise.

I've got something for you.

For your audition.

Don't read it now.

Wait.

I'm calling it a day!

- Want a cup?
- Mm-hm. Careful!

Oh, yes.

- You can take more.
- Thanks.

- Married 20 years? Twenty!
- Yes.

- Twenty years. A lovely time.
- Great.

Oh, there he is. Sleep well?

- Yes, I did.
- Aren't you late?

No, it's fine.

Mother, we'll meet
at the station entrance at five.

Yes, off you go.
I'll tidy up the room a bit.

The coat strap is off.
Go without. It's warm out.

Yes.
It's a pity you were only here one day.

Ail right, I'll go.

Miss Battenberg moved out.

I know.

Get to work.

Work is healthy.
And say hello to Fischer.

Take your stuff elsewhere!

Fabian stood on the curb
watching cars.

A car stopped, an old lady got out.

He helped her off the footboard.

For me?

He unwittingly earned ten pfennigs.

Taxi!

He pocketed the coin, stepped back
to the curb and opened another door.

This is my taxi!

Make room.

- Here!
- ...said a man and gave him ten pfennigs.

If Labude saw the literary history
expert opening doors...

"THE LATEST PAPERS!
CHANCELLOR'S BIG SPEECH!"

The SPD,
Germany's most shameless party,

to blame for hardship, hunger,
rich bigwigs and gaunt workers.

Here.

It was turning into a job.

Fifteen minutes later,
Fabian had earned 65 pfennigs.

It's turning into a job.

- A charitable gift perhaps?
- Thank you.

I've been watching you, my boy.

Are things going so badly?

Help carry these parcels.
You've had the tip.

Lost your job?

We can't count on Dr. Moll either.

He's taken a ship to France
or somewhere.

The police reside with us now.

Moll has been embezzling
clients' money for years now.

I underestimated him.

What do you live on now?

I opened a guesthouse.
You can get big flats cheap now.

An old friend gave me the furniture.

That is, the friendship is young,
the friend is old.

He owns a few peepholes in the doors.

Who lives
in this transparent guesthouse?

My club of unchristian young men
entertains high-society women.

Ladies neither pretty nor slim,
and far from young.

But they're rich.

They pay whatever I ask.

Whether they have to steal from
or kill their husbands, they come.

A brothel with men?

Yes. I don't accept everyone.

Is there an admission exam?

Real talent is hard to find.

Naturals are more common.

I have a proposal for you.

You're too picky.

You're too old for the job.

My clients prefer 20-year-olds.

And you suffer from false pride.

But I could use you as a secretary.

I need some proper bookkeeping now.

You can work for me.

Live with me.

What do you think of that?

Two new ones? Really?

Fabulous!

Gaston, is it your day off?

Mackie's showing me the car
Number 7 promised him.

Go to your room.
What kind of business is this?

Go!

Number 12 has an appointment at three.
You need to rest.

Take the boxes.

Are you refusing me again?

Take a week to consider it.
You know the address.

Think it over.

Starving is a matter of taste.

- Stop it. You don't have to accompany me.
- I do.

It's no shame to be unemployed.

You were never good at keeping secrets.

Promise you'll sit
in the middle carriage, yes?

Yes, if there's a spot.

- It lessens the effects of an accident.
- If you say so.

I'll find a new job.

- Yes, will you see each other again?
- This weekend.

Not till then?

I'll visit you soon.

- Have you read the newspaper yet?
- No.

I bough it earlier...

"A little, with love."

"Eat the schnitzel first.
The sausage will keep for days."

Mathematically, it was a zero-sum deal.
Both had the same amount as before.

But good deeds can't be undone.

The moral calculation is different
from the arithmetic one.

Fabian's heart was insensible.

He sat long
in his furnished room.

Somewhere in this vast city
lay Cornelia

with a 50-year-old man,
closing her eyes in submission.

Where?

He wanted to tear down the walls
of every building until he found them.

Where was Cornelia?

No, Cornelia had made it far.

He couldn't call her back.

If he had leaned out of the window
and said,

"Come back up. I don't want you to work,
to go to Makart,"

she'd have replied, "How dare you?
Give me money or don't impede me."

He had no other way of helping himself.
He stuck out his tongue at the sun.

Yes?

Mr. Fabian.

Can we talk?

Yes, certainly.

Stephan got arrested.

In Hamburg.

- When?
- Sunday.

He was drunk and ran after his
ex-fiancée on the street, trousers down.

- Political?
- Oh, yes.

Before that
he agitated a whole day long.

He held rallies for dockworkers,
students and so on.

I brought him home. I spoke to him.
He promised to forget Leda and so on.

But he disappeared again last night.

Germany, awaken...

I'm very worried.

Fabian, can we look for him?

I made sure we'd be let in.

There.

- May I?
- Yes.

Oh.

Aha?

It has never looked like this here.

Blaise Pascal wrote a passage

where he speaks of order
as a deadly omen.

Shit.

- You have my number?
- Yes.

Defense lawyer Labude Senior,
notorious in court,

and the unemployed Dr. Fabian
are not an effective search party.

They inquire after the lost man,
keep watch

and make calls,
voices fearful, hearts panicked.

Berlin's heap of stones
does not answer.

He has to get in touch.

He has to get in touch.

Does he like my work?
Does he like life?

It just can't...

It just can't be that bad.

In the late afternoon
Fabian is elsewhere, outside the city.

SITE PLAN
UNIVERSUM FILM LTD, BERLIN

He suddenly feels
like he has a date here.

Studio Three...

And he does.

Thanks.

Certainly!

A wise man who can be told to say
what others wish.

Indifference instead of love.

That means nothing instead of something.

Learn, mimical court-parrot!

Learn from a woman that indifference...

- Thanks, enough.
- No!

- It's a beautiful part.
- I've seen it.

No! Not from me.

- Miss, you just don't have it. That'll do.
- No!

Please! You haven't heard the end.

No alterations. We'll stay as we are.

- Camera, too!
- Goodbye.

Yes, the camera, too.
Everything as is.

Miss Battenberg.

Very nice.
You look lovely in this dress.

It suits your eyes. What's that?

A monologue? No need to be nervous.

She's been with us three months.
Film law.

Look at this face.

The anatomy. The character!

I couldn't help noticing.

Over a bit.

Stand up straight.

She's nervous now, of course.
Put on the hat.

That's something.

Hat off. It casts a shadow.

Don't mess this up, darling,
and you needn't worry about the future.

Right! Then... camera.

Sound!

I imagine how she can be formed.

Although she is sometimes
a bit unruly, right?

- Camera's running.
- You see?

Beauty and the Beast.

- Go on.
- Ready!

Cornelia Buttenberg. Take one.

Battenberg.

All right, then...

Go on.

Dear friend!

Isn't it better
to go too early than too late?

I was standing next to you by the sofa.
You slept.

You are still asleep now
as I write to you.

I'd like to stay, but imagine if I did.

A few more weeks and you'd be unhappy.

While you were alone and I wasn't around
nothing could happen to you.

Things will be as they were before.

Are you very sad?

The other man is 50 years old.

He looks like a well-dressed,
retired wrestler.

My beloved friend, I feel like
I've sold myself to anatomical science.

Shall I go into your room once more
and wake you?

No, I'll let you sleep.

I won't crumble.

I'll imagine the doctor examining me
in this bright world.

He wants to study me, anatomically
and psychologically. It must be so.

You only get out of the dirt
by getting dirty.

And we want out!

I wrote "we".

Do you understand me?

I'm leaving you
in order to stay with you.

Will you keep on loving me?

Will you still want to look at me?
Be able to hug me?

Despite the other man?

Sunday afternoon I'll wait for you
in Café Spalteholz from four o'clock.

What will become of me
if you don't come?

What will become of me
if you don't come?

Goodness, that gets under your skin!
Miss, who wrote that?

I did, to a friend.

She's a poet too!

That mass of talent is almost unbearable
for a mere mortal, Miss Battenberg!

Sorry, the exit?

Yeah? Thanks.

Where is the exit?

Oh! Thanks.

140,000 metal workers on strike!

LEARN TO SWIM

Where is Labude?

No! My shoes.

Where is Labude?

"English airship explodes."

"Nine-year-old jumps from window."

"Strychnine stored next to lentils."
Everything's out of control!

Heavens!

Where is Labude?

"140,000 metal workers on strike".

I'll bite you.

Look at the mess you made.

What is this? It splashed to here.

Get rid of it!
30 minutes I've...

- Waiter?
- No!

Hello!

Waiter!

Waiter!

- Anything else?
- Answer a question for me.

- Shall I go or not?
- Where, sir?

- You shouldn't ask but answer.
- You can kiss me all over.

- All over.
- Oh! I know that.

- Shall I go there or not?
- Then it's better you don't go.

- To be on the safe side.
- Right. Thanks.

Then I'll go.

- But I advised you not to.
- That's why I'm going.

- And if I'd advised you to go?
- I'd have gone.

Why did you even ask me, then?

If only I knew.

And down it goes. Down! Yes.

- Come on.
- My cake.

- Come.
- I want it!

Come.

- Keep the change, gentlemen.
- Goodbye.

INSTITUTE OF ACQUAINTANCE INITIATION
5TH FLOOR

It's open!

Finally, another man.

- Hello. Fabian.
- Kulp's moaning that this can't go on.

She hasn't had one in two days.
The last one was a disaster.

- I see. Why?
- She's a fashion illustrator.

He only gave her a job
for a quid pro quo.

- She called him an impotent geriatric.
- Those are the worst.

They keep trying to see
whether the defect has been rectified.

Afternoon nude.
Name's Selow.

New position, dear.

Get up. Don't fall asleep.

Legs wide apart.
Turn your upper body at a right angle.

Fingers interlaced behind your neck.

Stop! Very nice.

Baron, I'm cold. A drink.

It's true.
Miss Selow has goosebumps all over.

- Hands off!
- Hands off the cake!

The Baron's jealous.

- They have a thriving relationship.
- Quiet!

Ah, Labude! You've come back to life?

If you have plans with Kulp, go on.
The room is accustomed to woe.

My oh my oh my!

I do tend...

to moral concerns in public.

- There are all sorts of things!
- Yes.

The arms of men
are like a hot bath to her.

Go for it,
if you want to join in.

All you need is ten pfennigs.

Labude picks heads, you tails.

Kulp flips the coin.
It stirs her solar plexus.

Winner gets the first shot.

- Ten pfennigs? What?
- I don't gamble.

You're ruining my prices.

A drink!

- Somebody get her something!
- I'll get it out...

- Last position.
- More than ten pfennigs.

Bend your knees. Hands on knees.

Bottom out, head up.

- How do visitors pay?
- Put money down somewhere.

It gets collected.

Look!

He's fallen asleep.

Nice of you
to take good care of my friend.

But I think we should go home now.

- I can pay.
- He's been here since yesterday morning.

- Yeah?
- Mm-hm.

So many artists here need supporting.

We have to draft the club rules.

Life is a bad habit.

I have money. I can pay.

UNIVERSITY OF BERLIN

Fabian's mother taught him
not to read other people's mail.

So he stifled his curiosity,
but took charge of the letter for now.

It's open.

- Is Kulp here?
- Yes.

Kulp!

You others, disappear for an hour!

Gentlemen, we're leaving.

We have to get out.

Selow can stay with us, too.

- That was a joke, Baron.
- Come here.

- Hello, Wilhelmy.
- Well?

- So? Not dead yet?
- No, but it can't be much longer now.

Otherwise the money
will be gone before I am.

- Selow, don't drink all the gin.
- Get dressed faster. Come on!

Out of here!

The doctors told him
he'd die in a month.

Waiting for death
like we wait for our period.

I'll help him wait for 15 minutes.

Go to the Cousine bar. I'll come later.

Your coat.

I hope he won't hit her like last time.
He's mad others get to outlive him.

She loves a thrashing.

- She can't live off drawing.
- Yes! Fine jobs we have.

I can tell.

You think all the women here
are abnormal, right?

The skinny one over there
was an actor's girlfriend for years.

Until he suddenly kicked her out.

She went to an office,
slept with a clerk, had a child

and lost her job.

The clerk said he wasn't the father.
The child was sent to the countryside.

She got a new job, but...

She'd had enough of men.

What a surprise.

Do you need anything else?

He's been looking around the whole time.

Most women here are angry at men.

Selow is one of them, too.

She's only a lesbian
because she's in a sulk with men.

The corpse
almost beat her to death again.

Get the doctor!

- From the backroom.
- Doctor! Doctor!

Here's to men!

Where?

- Where?
- Here.

Out of the way! Move!

What happened? She's unconscious?

- The backroom. In here.
- Is that all right?

Do you understand me?

He has a good medical education.
Seen the dueling scars?

- The bag?
- Here.

He was in a fraternity.

A morphine addict
with a permit to cross dress.

- To put beneath her.
- He lives off prescribing morphine.

"If they catch me, I'll poison myself."

That's what he says.

Her pulse is weak.
Hello!

How did you get into this hellhole?

Why do you call it a hellhole?

The women here
are just as we want them, right?

They should cry when we send them away,
but be glad when we call them.

We want love as a commodity, but we also
want the commodity to be in love with us.

We have every right, no obligations.
They have no rights, every obligation.

That's a man's paradise.

If they can't keep us,
they don't want to love us.

But if we want to buy them,
we must pay dearly.

They're right.

No!

I want a man.

I want a man!

Get lost, you randy goat.

I'll get my coat.

- Your cigarettes.
- My cigarettes... My cigarettes!

Long live the small difference!

That will help.

Stephan!

It's me.

I have the letter.

From the university.

Cornelia sat there
as if she'd been waiting years.

BERLIN, SUNDAY, 16 AUGUST 1931

SALES SLUMP KILLING INDUSTRY

The pianolas in Spalteholz
kept on playing.

The room was full.
The temperature was almost 30°C.

The barometer forecast
changeable conditions.

I didn't think you'd come.

Listen, you losers!

It wasn't right of me to leave.

Why won't you look at me?

Why won't you look at me?

What will become of me?

- What will become of me?
- An unhappy woman who is doing well.

Isn't that why you came to Berlin?

You get nothing for nothing.
It's a trade-off.

To get something you have to give.

You met a powerful man. He funds you.

He's giving you a chance.
You'll be a success.

He'll get a return on his investment.

And for the men he pays to spy on you.
There's one outside now.

This time in a chauffeur's hat.

But you'll earn money yourself.

One day you'll tell him,

"Farewell, we're even."

And you'll leave.

Continue, Mr. Fabian.

What'll happen
when you no longer need Makart?

You'll keep working.

Success may increase,
ambition will grow.

The risk of crashing rises.

You can always find a man
who'll block a woman's path.

One she'll have to tangle with
in order to get past him.

You'll get used to it.

The precedent has already been set.

I thought we were a gang.
I thought we had no scruples.

Two don't make a gang.

We'd also have to discuss the past.

You didn't consult me when you left,
but got my consent to clear your conscience.

You fancied me a scoundrel,
your pimp while you go to a rich man.

You wanted me to accept a lover
who earns money in richer men's beds.

And if you're right,
then, yes, I'm a scoundrel.

But if I'm not a scoundrel,

then it was wrong.

Yes.

It was all wrong.

He followed her, unhappy with himself.

He had hurt her because he had
a right to do so, but was that a reason?

If you were to ask if you should
come back, I'd say yes.

Because I only have 16 marks.

Drive with me.

Driving is nice.

The last two days were horrible.

So was the day before,
after the audition.

Music, please.

I'm sorry for hurting you.

- You have an appointment, Miss Battenberg.
- Just drive.

- This gentleman is coming?
- Yes.

You no longer want to see me.
So what was it good for?

It's good for you.
I've understood.

The recipe you chose for life is,

"Chop off your own head,
but be sure it wasn't for nothing."

It's fine. It's...

Everything's been said.

- Did you get the role?
- Mm-hm.

I'm to play the wife of a man
who keeps wanting me to change.

He's a sick person.

He makes me play
an inexperienced girl

and then a sophisticated woman.

Sometimes a vulgar female,
then a creature of luxury.

Psychological film.

I have to go with that.
It's the only thing that's new.

It's daring.

It protects us
from Jewish decorative arts.

But it turns out my character is
completely different from how I thought.

I keep changing,

and that makes me what I've always been,
cruel and domineering.

Help me!

Help me. Be my angel of inspiration!

Makart's idea?

Yes.

Cornelia, that man is dangerous.

He'll have you act out the transformation
and hope you become that way.

That wouldn't be tragic.

Such men want to be used.

- Submit!
- The role will be a lesson for my life.

You should serve nothing

but your own subconscious genius.

She lowered her voice.
"The chauffeur's listening!"

What's up? Can you read lips?

Stop staring!

Look ahead, prison guard.

I want out.

I'll come to you tonight.

Maybe you have a use for me.
I have work, you don't.

I love you more and more, you love me
less and less. We complete one another.

Wait! Stop!

I went to your office
to bring you chocolate.

I forgot that they fired you.

Operator.

Hello, please put me through
to Grunewald 12-0-47, Labude.

Hold the line.

AGAINST
PAPEN, HITLER, THÄLMANN

SOCIAL DEMOCRATS

No answer.

No, someone always picks up.

- They have staff.
- Sorry, no one's home.

Try again.
I know someone will pick up.

- I talked to him yesterday. Try again.
- I can't do anything.

I know that it isn't your fault.

Then watch your mouth, young man!

What do you want from me?
What shall I do? Apologize?

I should apologize?
Fine, I apologize. Sorry.

- Good evening.
- Sorry.

- Fabian, your neighbour.
- How do you do.

Thirsty, he had carried a cup.

He no longer wanted to,
as it was empty.

Then Fate relented
and filled his cup.

He finally bent over to drink from it.

"No," Fate said.
"No, you didn't want to hold it."

The cup was dashed
from his hands

and the water ran over them
and down into the earth.

He was free again.

Hooray!

STORM TIDE EXPECTED TONIGHT
ON BALTIC SEA

Your mother asked me
to keep an eye on you.

And now the police are here.

The police?

Yes, the police.

Nice flat.

Yes?

- Name?
- Jakob Fabian.

Do you know a Stephan Labude?

Yes, why?

- Hello, Jakob Fabian, friend...
- Finally.

Detective Superintendent Donath.
We can't get on without you.

- Could you tell me what's going on?
- Come along.

We'll go upstairs, okay?

Help out your colleagues.
We need peace in this house.

- Good morning, ladies.
- I have nice girls.

- What's happened here?
- They've been here for hours.

It's a bit calmer now.

My assistant.

You oughtn't do such a thing, Stephan.

You really oughtn't.

Erm... Do you have a light?

Thanks.

Mr. Labude left a note for you.
Please read it and tell us what it says.

We agree with you
that this is probably a case of suicide.

The five ladies we've kept here
claim they were in the next room.

But that doesn't explain everything.

- You saw the mess in the drawing room?
- Yes.

- Would you please read the letter?
- What letter?

The ladies claim the room was disturbed
as a result of a private quarrel.

We assume
that there was a fight out of jealousy.

But they called the police immediately,
which indicates they weren't involved.

And they didn't run off.

We'll wait in the next room.

You oughtn't do such a thing.

- Right, so we can leave now?
- Wait, please stay here.

- Something to drink!
- Why are you keeping us here?

Pay me! Pay me!
Or let me go.

Sit down!
You have to sit down!

"My dear friend!

"That one lives is pure chance,
while dying is a certainty.

"I know that important men were also
bad scholars and unhappy lovers.

"But everything about my current state

"is distasteful to me."

Forgive me for disturbing you again.

Sit down! Sit down, ladies.

All right,
then I can send the ladies home.

It's dealt with.
I don't want to keep you any longer.

Hold on!

- They're coming!
- Don't touch me!

I have a thing for dead people.

- I'm sorry...
- It's all right.

- I'm sorry.
- Yes. Two minutes.

- They should tie his mouth shut.
- I will.

Yes.

Grab his head.

Careful!

- A dead guy with the toothache.
- Such a pity.

Wilhelmy sits in my studio and gets
healthier by the day, the wretch.

- And this splendid man kills himself.
- That's enough.

- Please go.
- We're going.

- Don't touch me.
- Please!

- Go!
- Hey, you can get lost, too.

- So? Who's riding with whom now?
- Right, ladies, have a nice day.

"Where I belong, nobody wanted me.

"I lost my ideals.

"I lost Leda and my thesis was rejected.
My pride can't bear it, Jakob.

"It breaks my head's heart
and it breaks my heart's neck.

"I've become ridiculous.

"A person who failed
in the subjects of love and work.

"Let's kill this chap.

"It's not so sudden.
The wind's shifting."

- Dear God! How is this possible?
- My condolences.

- Thank you. Where is he?
- On the first floor, in his room.

"Although you won't want to read this,
I've thought about it a long time.

"Keep that to yourself.

"A father doesn't need to know
the depths of his son's abyss.

"I should have been a teacher.
Only children are ripe for ideals."

He knew what he was doing.

If he thought
it was the right thing to do...

other people needn't cry.

You know...

I'm not one of those fathers
who lives for his son.

I'm a hedonistic old gentleman who...

is in love with life
and who is losing that.

Yet I wasn't prepared for this.

"Farewell, Jakob.

"I almost wrote,
'I'll think of you often.' "

"You're the only person I ever knew
but loved nonetheless.

"I'd ask you to see to my affairs,
but there are none to see to.

"My parents should sell my flat in Berlin.
All my books are yours.

"I just found 2,000 marks in my desk.
Take the money, it isn't much."

- Up!
- "Farewell. Live a better life than I did.

"And please write.

"Write how it was
and how it could have been.

"Yours, Stephan."

By the way, I found out
that the woman with plastered nose

didn't have the surgery.

She ran off
with the doctor and my money.

Was his postdoctoral thesis
really that bad?

No.

No, the assessment is a joke.

I read it. It's...

one of the most original
literary-historical theses I've read.

About what?

Lessing.

He admired him.

I'm afraid I missed
getting to know my own son.

He could have talked with the Professor,
and rewritten it. That's no reason!

- Good morning, Professor.
- Good morning.

Good morning.

That can't be.

The work was first class.
There's been a mistake.

He shot himself. It's not a mistake.

Yes.

That's terrible.

I know you. I know you were his friend.

I don't want to be disturbed now.

But what on earth
made your friend do this?

- What?
- You can't imagine?

You rejected his thesis, that's why.

- Impossible.
- Yes!

- Take a look at it!
- I rejected it?

Who said that?

Who said that?
Who said that I rejected it?

I sent that thesis to the faculty,
with the remark

that it was the best
literary-historical work in years.

I wrote that
no student has ever presented me

with a paper that was
so substantiated and meaningful.

I'm publishing it as a special edition
in the institute's series.

- Who said that I rejected it?
- One moment, please.

Weckherlin!

Go and see.

Here.

Weckherlin,
the Professor wants you. Now!

- You're potty.
- Come on!

What is this?

All right!

Take a look, please.

Move it!

I must question him in your presence.

Dr. Weckherlin, did you write a letter
to my friend Stephan Labude

in the Professor's name,
rejecting his thesis?

Did you state that
giving it to the faculty would mean

harassing the professors
with mental diarrhea?

Did you write that
the Professor wanted

to spare him the public disgrace?

Did you?

Weckherlin?

It was just a joke.

You swine!

You swine! He's dead!

He's dead! He's dead!

A bad joke!

You bastard!
I'll smash you up. I'll get you!

Stop!

Get lost, Fabian!

You drunken loser!

- I'll beat him to death.
- You won't!

- Get him out!
- What is it?

Is he alive?

Is he?

- Yes.
- Dismiss him!

What is it?

What can I do?

- Declare Labude a professor posthumously?
- Yes. Yes!

- Yes!
- The world is going to the dogs.

Dismiss him, at least!

I don't have the power to do that.
The council must decide that.

Why did Labude have to be
so politically outspoken?

- Are you being threatened?
- We need a new order.

Things can't go on like this.

All of this hedonism...

This eternal post-war chaos
must come to an end.

Everything is good for something,
even a sacrifice.

Things have to get better.

Bravo!

Eerie invisible scissors

had cut all bonds
that tied him to this city.

His job was gone, his friend dead.

Someone else had Cornelia.
What was he still doing here?

Hadn't he told Labude,

"People would still beat each other up
in the paradise you dream of"?

Were the decent, humane, normal people
he wished for actually desirable?

What for? Why was his friend dead?

He had known the reason.

The wrong people died
and the wrong people lived.

Is that necessary?

It's scandalous how we chase each other.
Where are you going?

I'm going home.

Very polite.
Won't you ask me where I'm going?

- Where are you going?
- I'm clearing out.

One of my boys
blew the whistle on my establishment.

I heard it from a policeman
whose wages I paid double.

What kind of establishment?

My brothel of men.

Oh, that's right.

- Will you come to Budapest with me?
- No.

I have 100,000 marks with me.

We could go to Prague, then Paris.

Or London?

No, I'm going home.

In the newspaper,
an engineer

proposed lowering the Mediterranean
200 metres.

It'd expose large areas of land,
like before the ice age.

It could be settled, and feed millions.

Small dams could enable railway service

from Berlin to Cape Town.

Well, then...

let's go drain the Mediterranean.

I have jewellery.

Once we're broke, we'll blackmail
the old biddies that frequented my place.

No, I'm going to see my mother.

You silly fool! Do I have to kneel down
and profess my love?

What's wrong with me?
Too enlightened?

Would you prefer some silly goose?

I'm sick of grabbing
at the first pair of trousers that pass.

I like you.

We keep bumping into each other.
It can't be chance.

Please come with me.

No, no, no.

I'm not coming.

- Have a good journey.
- Pity.

A terrible pity. Maybe another time.
Do you need money?

- Just take it.
- No, thanks.

- Hello.
- Hello.

- Goodbye.
- Goodbye.

Hello.

Stephan shot himself.

Oh, my boy!

"ZEPPELIN" OVER WESTERN GERMANY"

"HOW NSDAP COUNCILOR "STUDIES"

What's wrong with him?

His friend Labude killed himself.

I didn't know he had a friend.

He did.

- You just don't listen.
- He's unemployed.

I heard that.

It's nice that he's here.

The rain snapped them all!

- Really?
- But it's been a while.

I'll take these out, okay?

They'll come back next year.

They'll come back.

I'll do that tomorrow.

LESSING'S WORKS

Yes.

Do you think
they're ripe enough already?

They normally keep long.

- Great!
- Not enough rain.

- What was that?
- There wasn't enough rain.

Yes.

Gerda asked if she could have a few.

A STAR

Try one.

You could write a gardening book.

- Frida wants some, too.
- Yeah?

- Yes.
- She can pick them herself.

Oh, I don't know.

That won't ever happen.

Ludwig!

Ludwig!

The coffee is weak, right?

Shall we buy a different brand?

Try it.

I think about her.

All the time.

Call her. It won't be that bad.

We sometimes say things our minds
wanted to keep quiet. Apologize.

- Why?
- Listen to your mother.

She's right most of the time.

Hello, Mrs. Hohlfeld. It's Jakob Fabian.

In Dresden. Yes, I'm fine.

Are you fine as well?

- Yes, nice.
- I certainly won't do that!

- It's not the first time.
- Tell me...

Miss Battenberg... Cornelia.

Has she been by yours lately?

Yes?

Did she leave a number
that she can be reached at?

- Always the same story.
- Yes? That's so nice.

Thank you. Yes.

Where?

Yes, I... I'm looking.

Ah, now I know.

Just a second!

- Hello? Yes.
- That's not possible!

- I know...
- Right. Yes, now.

- Now I know!
- Come on, be quiet. Please.

Yes. Erm...

Now I can...

Now.

Three, three, two, oh, nine.

Oh, yes.

Yes, I'll wait.

All right. Dresden.

50-23-5.

Yes, it's urgent. Please tell her.

A happy occurrence in the family.
Happy occurrence.

All right.

Who's speaking? The gate.
No, she's filming now.

A relative? You write down the number.

- ...Studio 3!
- Coming!

Son, if you want to smoke,
please go outside,

or the smell will be
in the curtains all day tomorrow.

- Have a nice evening!
- You too.

TELEPHONE NUMBER.
CALL

Don't pick up!

Don't pick up, please!

- Don't pick up!
- The Fabians.

Dresden Löbaustrasse 13.

Hello? Hello?

- No one.
- Why did you pick up?

While I'm here, no one in this house
picks up the phone but me!

Hey! Are you off your chump?

- Don't yell at your mother.
- Yes.

Please! This is my private area now.
Let me handle the telephone. Please!

I can get unpleasant too.

Hello?

How is Dresden?

Different from Berlin.

I read you started filming.

Yes.

Congratulations.

Everyone praises me,
but it doesn't help.

Why not?

What do you mean?

Today was my fifth day of shooting.
There's a huge fuss all around me.

I am happy here, really.

I constantly try new things.

But?

Yeah...

If you were here,
you'd really see things.

You'd see what I do.

What I hide.

I thought about
how you might see me,

in the cinema.

But I can't see you.

It's cruel, really.

You once asked me
where I was born.

I'm from Wedding.

I was born in Berlin,
like thousands of others.

I've never been anywhere else,
not Paris or London.

I'm average in every way.

I thought I needed a secret.

Maybe it'd be a second start
if we met again.

I could come to the city
for a day or two.

For a visit, so to speak.

We'd get to know each other again.

You can show me your Berlin,
if it still exists.

Would you have the time?

Yes.

I'll flee from the other man.
Tell me when and where.

I'll make a break for it.
Then they'll all look for me.

I'll go to Spalteholz.

I'll wait for you. Think about you.

It doesn't matter if you don't come.
I'll go every day.

All right. I'll come one day.
One day in Spalteholz.

Yes.

Not the gray pants with the green shirt.

Just look at you!

Here, take these.
I couldn't get rid of the stain.

Your roast.
The gravy is always so greasy.

My roast?

Where's the boy? Isn't he joining us?

He wanted to go out.
I packed him something.

- But it isn't where I left it.
- So that means he's gone?

He'll come back.

- He wanted to return to his bird.
- Don't call her that!

He didn't want to discuss it either,
not even with you.

He could have said goodbye.

He just didn't want to today.

Away, then, to the bosom of nature,

taking a small detour to the station.

Despite it all,
life was a most interesting occupation.

Go for it!

Go for it! Come on!

- Do it! Come on!
- Just jump!

We're getting cold!

I jumped from there yesterday.

It's deep enough. Go for it!

Suddenly Fabian saw a boy
on the parapet of the bridge.

A dare? A suicide attempt?

Hey, get away from there!

Hey, what are you doing?

Hey! Get down! Are you mad?

He saw the boy's head and hands
hit the water and vanish.

He took off his coat
and jumped in the river.

- Is he coming back up?
- Labude!

The pull of the current surprised him.

He drifted off.

"Oops!" he thought, before he sank.

- Help!
- Help!

What is that? No one can dance to that.

Horst, play something nice!

- Fabian drowned.
- He couldn't swim.

- What's up?
- A fish drowned.

What's up?

FROM LAWYER TO FILM STAR

LEARN TO SWIM!

May I get you something else?

Not necessary. Thanks.

- But I'll come every day at three.
- Well, that's nice.

Dr. Goebbels called for a campaign
against Jews on Kurfürstendamm.

We experienced that
this Saturday evening.

At 7:30 p.m., SA members
flocked to the Memorial Church.

At about 9:30,
over 1,000 National Socialists had gathered.

It was a planned initiative...

to disrupt the Jewish New Year.

...the right-wing mobs...

then marched
along the Kurfürstendamm,

calling "Germany, awaken!"
and "Die, Jews!"

Passers-by who looked Jewish

were molested and beaten.

When the synagogue in Fasenstrasse
closed shortly before ten

troops bearing Swastikas had convened.

...were met with insults
and physically attacked.

The horrible scenes
continued on Kurfürstendamm

and passers-by
had to flee to side streets.