Redhead (1962) - full transcript

When's the next train?
- Where to? - Doesn't matter.

Well...

The Rapido to Venice, in 6 minutes.

One ticket.
- A return?

No, no return.

That's 4,600.
There's an extra charge

you have to pay on the train.

Yes.

THE REDHEAD

VENICE - MILAN

Your ticket, please.



There's an extra charge for 1st class
and for the Rapido. 2,500, please.

Thank you.
- Thank you, Signora.

How did I end up on this train to
Venice? Why Venice, of all places?

If Herbert had run after me in Milan,
I would have stayed.

Perhaps we would have
found a way.

I'm such a coward sometimes.

San Maurizio is a good example
of Solari's late style.

You'd do me a big favor
if you'd just have a look.

I'm not looking at anything with you.
- What's wrong?

Something's bothering you, Franziska.

I was thinking of Joachim.
- Sorry, I didn't mean to bother you.

You aren't bothering me.

Why can't you just have a look
at a few lovely things?

San Maurizio would be just right
for the mood you're in.



It's so tasteful, isn't it?
- A triumph of good taste.

You mean of your taste!
- You're absurd.

You're a repulsive aesthete.
- You're becoming tasteless.

I have enough taste
to find you repulsive.

It's difficult
to lower myself to your level.

Insulted? You aren't usually
so easy to insult.

Is that an allusion
to the freedom I give you?

I sleep with his boss
and he calls that freedom.

Although he knows
that my "freedom" has been

to sleep with him,
when I most hated Joachim.

I've told him often. Today, too.

Do you have to make such a scene
just now?

I only asked you
if you wanted to look at a church.

He's right. I made a terrible scene.
The last thing I wanted to do.

All I wanted was to break up
peacefully and quietly.

It went badly, yet I still
have to end it. Finito.

You want to get divorced again?
- I don't know. Of course.

But first I just want to go away.
- Where to?

I don't know.
- Back to Joachim, I suppose.

Not at all.
Not back to Joachim. Not that.

He wasn't even slightly moved,
just nervous.

Perhaps a little more than usual.

Why did I marry him?
I really don't know anymore.

Just because Joachim didn't mind?

Herbert is making an effort now.
- Who's Herbert?

Your export manager.
- Oh yes, Lukas.

A good man.
Ambitious, but flexible and precise.

A good choice, isn't he?
How much effort does he make?

Like you at the beginning.

He's nice.
- Do you want to marry him?

No. You.

Nobody can marry me.
Nobody can live with me.

But if you want to marry him,
things could be arranged.

He knew I'd always do everything.

Even things he'd only imagined.

If Herbert had said the right thing,
I wouldn't be sitting here now.

He didn't stand a chance.

You aren't really hysterical at all.
So cut the nonsense.

How much cash do you have?
- How much cash? - Yes.

20,000 lire.
- Give it to me.

You still have traveler's checks
and German money.

Let's behave like adults.
- Give me the money.

As you wish.
What you need, you shall have.

We've always done it that way,
whether it was money or Joachim.

I had about 20,000.

Now I have 18 left.

This train is incredible,
1st class only.

I should be sitting
on a wooden bench, instead.

You can't let me down.
We have a meeting tomorrow.

There are other interpreters.
Call the Berlitz School.

When will you be in Dortmund?

What actually happened today
in Milan?

I can't explain it.

San Maurizio is a good example
of Solari's late style.

One sentence,

one gesture decided everything.

I'd been waiting 3 years for that,
and I'd had opportunities enough.

Now I've run away
for such a trivial reason.

No, I couldn't explain it to anyone.

What am I doing on this island?

You can't go far on an island.
It's enclosed.

We're there.

Venice is an island.

There are always trains to Milan.
I could go back.

No. Herbert won't expect me
to come here.

He'll assume
I went back to Dortmund.

I've never seen
the Canale Grande like this.

During the summer, they light it up,
but now...

now it's showing
its true night-time face.

I should have stayed in Milan.

That would've been the easiest.

To disappear amidst Milan's masses

instead of coming to this silent
black city.

To this deserted city.

There are only
two ways of living:

anonymously in a crowd
or completely alone.

Why is he looking at me like that?

Stupid question.

I should recognize that look:
a redhead.

I know what men think about redheads.

I can feel his gaze,
even without looking.

I'm sure he's just been with her.
Now he's taking her home.

I like the way he looks at me.
It's pleasant.

I'm crazy. In my situation,
I've other things to think about.

This will never happen to her.

She'll never drive through the dark,
with nothing ahead.

Only 20, yet she has elegant luggage
and a porter.

I should have inquired about
a cheap hotel, a destination.

How easy it is

when someone is with you,
who knows what he wants.

I'm afraid of this town.

Perhaps I've never seen anything
more beautiful.

Suddenly,

when I couldn't care less,
this has to happen to me.

It was wrong to come here.
I have to sleep.

A single is 1,800, all inclusive.

1,500: breakfast obligatory.

1,400.
- All inclusive?

Or for 1,200 on the landing.

OK. My luggage
is still at the train station.

Then please give me your passport.

Thank you.

Room 12A.

Can't you smoke next door?
I don't like smoke in the bedroom.

Do you like anything at all
that has to do with me?

He was right.

I only enjoy letting him know
that I don't like him.

And he tolerates it.

He destroys me
by tolerating everything.

We'd have been fine,
had he not been so understanding,

avenging the fact I didn't like him.

Your tea is wonderful.

Fortnum and Mason. You'll have to
get some, when you come to London.

Will I be going to London soon?

Herbert has to go soon.

You want me to go with him?

You're indispensable to us,
with your English.

You think I'd go with Herbert
to Fortnum and Mason

to get your favorite tea?

Why not?

What's wrong with that?
You are strange.

He's right.
I probably am strange.

I have to sleep.

But what will be different tomorrow?
Only the date and the weekday.

130 lire, please. Thank you.

130 lire.
Breakfast is cheap in Italy.

Thank you.

The only thing that's cheap.

I'll eat in my hotel room.
One meal a day is enough.

A cappucino.

I'll buy some bread and cheese,
and I'll order some tea...

That would cost 400 lire.

So, 600 a day for meals.
The hotel has plates and knives.

Thank you.

I'll have to buy soap,
toothpaste, underwear and stockings.

Two brioches, please.

Hotel: 1,200; the necessary
vaporetto trips, something to read...

Thank you.

A newspaper for the job ads.
Perhaps I'll place an ad myself.

I only have 4 or 5 days, at the most.

I'll have to find a job by then.

This could be my last resort.

From Carstens in Düsseldorf...
You're crazy.

Instead of a wedding ring.

Those smooth rings look like
identification discs.

He has good taste,

you must give him that.
In 3 parts. How unique.

There. Now you can see
something of our lovely city

whilst having breakfast.

That really wasn't necessary.

Pardon me. I thought
you were a foreigner, a tourist.

I am a foreigner,
but no tourist.

Congratulations.
You speak like an Italian.

You're kind, but that's not true.

That rolling Italian "R"...
I'll never learn how to say it.

Say "errore".

Errore.
- Oh, no. Er-ro-re.

Er-or-re.

Oh dear.
- I can't do it.

You're German, aren't you?

Can you tell? - I didn't want
to insult you. Languages are my job.

Mine, too.
I'm an interpreter.

How strange.

How strange.

What? - The first person I talk to
teaches me how to say "errore",

the word for "mistake".

I should've chosen another word,
for example, "amore".

I told you,
I'm no tourist.

You're a foreigner, but no tourist.

And I'm an Italian
who doesn't speak of love.

A very unusual arrangement.

Your city is beautiful.
- But sometimes it's horrible, too.

If you like,
I'll show you a few things

which you'd otherwise
perhaps never see.

Did you climb the tower?
- No, I'm really not a tourist.

You're a snob.
Climb up the Campanile sometime,

on a clear day. You'll witness
a miracle up there.

You'll get a view of Venice
you won't find anywhere else.

I didn't come for a view of Venice.

Oh yes, you're here on business.
You said you're an interpreter.

Yes... I'm an interpreter.

I have to go now.
Till we meet again.

I hope we shall.

And remember the Campanile.

Here.

Could you tell where I can find out
what is required of Germans

who want to obtain a work permit?

Go to the Office of Alien Affairs
at San Lorenzo. It's not far.

Thank you.
- It doesn't open again until Monday.

I see... Oh well.

Are you looking for a job yourself?
- Yes.

I'm an interpreter.
- We could've used you in the summer,

but in winter?
Try your luck in Milan.

You can get anything there.
I always go there.

To Milan? I see. Thanks, anyway.

Bad luck. It's wintertime.

Not even gondolas are needed.

I can't wait for the season to begin,
like those people.

What did I want?
Oh yes, face lotion.

HAIRDRESSER

In England I'd find a job
working in a household.

In Sweden or Denmark, too. But Italy
is a tough place to find a job.

Perhaps I could heat up
a glass furnace in Murano.

Or paint gondolas.
That must be nice.

What about your luggage?
Should I have it picked up?

I don't have any.
I have all I need here.

How long are you staying?
- A few days.

May I ask you to pay in advance?

That's quite unusual.

We need security
when a guest has no luggage.

They could leave the hotel
and never return.

You think I wouldn't pay my bill?
- No, it's just a formality.

You're no judge of human nature.
A bill for 3 days, please.

4,500, please.

Yesterday you said 1,200 lire a day.

Heating is extra.

Who is that lady?

The result of an escape:

a few days of humiliation
in a tourist center,

Herbert's smile, Joachim's
appropriately frosty satisfaction.

No, no way back.

But I'll have to return. I only have
10, 000 lire; not even 70 marks.

But there must be opportunities here
for a redhead.

I have to go out,
to be amongst people.

You don't have to be rich
to drink tea here.

But you do have to belong.

I've never been rich.
I was just a high level secretary.

Herbert and I never really belonged.

This'll cost me 100 lire,
when he brings it back.

Signora?
- Tea, please. - A pastry, too?

Thank you.

I'm inconsistent.

I left Herbert and Joachim,
but not their world.

What do I want here?

To be amongst people?

That's just half the truth.

Thank you.

Do I want to be seen?

A lady in search of someone.

All I'd have to do is smile back.

It would be quite simple.

But not for me.

A person like that
might not even try.

Businessmen are afraid
of the reality of adventure.

They'd have to invest time,
deal with problems,

lie to their families,
even be charming and imaginative.

That's why they prefer
to pay for it.

He'd try it with her, if she were
alone. She's not a real redhead.

She's cold, so she'll be successful.

And one day she'll really belong.

I never will.

Waiter. The check, please.

Why did he give me that look?
Maybe he knows what I'm thinking.

350 lire.

Surely a foreigner, not Italian.
Could be English.

Keep the change.
- Thank you.

50 lire would've sufficed. People tip
too much when they're broke.

When they don't belong.
That look.

But I could swear
he's queer.

I've never minded men like that.
They're good friends to women.

Quite a trick.

Oh.

Why would such a person
give me that look?

I'd like your advice.
- Yes?

I'm an interpreter. Italian,
French, English and German.

Do you believe
I could get a job here?

Here at the hotel,
or elsewhere in Venice?

I'm sorry. We dismissed
our seasonal help in October.

Most hotels are closed.
- I see.

Don't you have any domestic work?
- What do you mean by that?

I could make beds
and clean rooms.

Until I find a good job, I mean.

Even if we had a great shortage
of personnel, we'd never

hire someone like you.

I see.

You probably had expenses.
Let me reimburse you.

That isn't possible.

Boy.

Thank you.
- Venice is a difficult place for you.

Giuseppe, where's the German
Consulate? - There's one in Milan.

I'm sorry. I'm sure they'll give you
a ticket home in Milan.

Thank you.

Mrs. Lukas?
You'll be surprised,

but I'd like to help you.
- You know my name?

Yes.

And your age, occupation,
marital status, nationality.

I even know
your address in Dortmund.

I know everything
a hotel porter knows about you.

Strange. I'm listening and not even
suspicious. I really should ask:

And why this interest?

I don't know why I'm following you.

Perhaps because I like you.

Perhaps because I liked
the way you looked at those people...

You're free of any ties.
I have a weakness for people

who don't belong.
And a nose.

Shall we have some coffee?
- I should say no...

Why not?

But not here. Let's go to my place.

It isn't far. We can walk.

I'm British. Actually Irish.
From Liverpool.

My name is Patrick O'Malley.
Unmarried.

Nearly 40.

I haven't had an occupation yet.

I'm telling you this, so you'll know
as much as I know about you.

Donizetti. "The Love Potion".

From every window!

"Elisir d'Amore".

I don't know everything about you.
Why did you come here without money?

Why are you trying to find a job
in Venice?

Why are you in such a situation?

I'm neutral. You understand
what I mean, don't you?

As neutral as the street. You talk

and I listen.

You'll get it off your chest.
Tomorrow I'll have forgotten it all,

as you'll forget me.

He's right. One can tell a stranger
everything. As if nothing was said.

We walk the same road only today,
and not even at the same pace.

It's a sad story.

And not even novel.

So one day you decided
to put an end to it.

Yes. That day was yesterday.

What I don't understand is why
you continued both relationships?

See this? My watch.

It winds itself up.

Simply through motion.

We, too, are machines.

Our reflexes keep us wound up.
So everything functions.

A great invention.

I did always try to defend myself.
Against Joachim's violence,

Herbert's astuteness,

my own weakness.

No, we can't defend ourselves.

Very few people are not machines.
They are our role models,

the ascetics.

It'd be terrible if you were right.

Yes, it is horrible. Terrifying.

We live in terror.

We live in a world
of terror and machines.

Where are you taking me?

There.

It has a name,
a lovely name.

Antinoos.

You like surprises, don't you?

After you.

The gangway is a little narrow.

It tastes so clean, it tastes so cool,
O'Malley's beer from Liverpool.

Every 2nd glass of beer in Liverpool
is brewed by my father.

I wrote the lines.
The boat was my payment.

May I?

Of course.

Your coat? It'll be warm soon.

Just a moment.

Thank you.
- I'll make us some coffee.

But first a whisky.

Special Whisky from old O'Malley.

My father only makes it
for himself and his friends.

On the rocks?
- No.

Fabulous. Thank you.

Yes. Here, even I sometimes believe
that life is nice and simple.

Because... here I forget the terror...

You have a boat, you have money...

You have no problems with women.
You're free.

There is no war. You can do
as you please. You really

should be happy.

You've told me your life story.

Now I'll tell you mine.
A story about horror,

terror and reflexes. About machines.

When the war broke out,
I was almost 18.

It was then I realized that
I was different than normal men.

And since I felt special
after going through puberty,

but also like an outcast,
I didn't want to join

that great army of normal people.

I enlisted in counter espionage

with the secret service, a department
suited only to particular persons.

I had to learn to parachute.
Voluntarily.

And then I got dropped.

It was a very windy autumn night,
back in 1944.

I parachuted over northern Germany
on a dangerous mission.

Everything began
that rough and windy night

between Hildesheim and Hanover. I was
dressed as a civilian, but unlucky.

I was soon discovered
and arrested.

The Gestapo tortured me.

I survived the torture.

I didn't betray the informer
I was supposed to contact.

I could have talked to an office
via his transmitter.

I didn't have any fingernails left,
but I was now

a "Royal British hero".

I'm sure it will be fine tomorrow.

Maybe even some sunshine.

After mistreating me like that,
they took me...

to Kramer.

With my hands tied.

Do you know an old timbered house
in Hildesheim: Knochenhauer?

The Knochenhauer Building? I believe
my husband once showed it to me.

I vaguely remember
a perfectly

timbered house, medieval,
little curved window panes.

Yes, a majestic,
fantastic network

of dark carved beams
and figures.

On the 3rd floor
were the Gestapo's offices.

The man in charge was Kramer.

Kramer talked to me

in a quiet and friendly way.

He appealed to my intelligence.

I realized how absurd it was
to go through the agony

of being tortured again
or put to death.

He gave me time to understand
that life is worth any price.

I betrayed our informer.
Kramer was an albino.

Picture a face that's completely
white: the skin, hair...

The eyes small and colorless.
A thoroughbred, smart and cynical.

He was life itself.

Only after he'd achieved what he
wanted, did he drop his mask.

I've never seen anything
so paradoxical:

a face that gets hard
when it relaxes.

The face of a machine,
which I had operated.

I saved my life

and let them turn me around,
as they say in the secret service.

Instead of hanging me,

they put me in a British prison camp.

I had to try and obtain information
for the Nazis.

My fellow prisoners, whom I told
about my situation, helped me.

They gave me
halfway credible material,

so I could pretend to Kramer
that I was fulfilling my duty.

After the war I reported
to the office in England.

There I was treated like a traitor.
They had found out that

the transmitter was discovered
shortly after Kramer questioned me.

Kramer had arrested the informer
and hanged him.

As I told you,
I'm an Anglo-Irish Catholic.

It's how it is.

Even a traitor can confess
and become a good Christian again.

But after committing treason, a man
can never again be a gentleman.

I left England

and have never gone back since.

Was Kramer caught?

No. His trace was lost in Auschwitz.

He worked for a while
at the concentration camp.

I've looked everywhere for Kramer.
I think the coffee is finished.

He's still afraid. That's why
he told me this old story.

That was nearly 20 years ago.

Does the thought of the man who died
for your sake torment you?

No, it doesn't torment me.

I have him on my conscience,
but I can cope with it.

The machine takes care of that.

So why be afraid?

I ran into Kramer.
- Where?

Here in Venice, a few days ago.

Will you have him arrested?

Me? A traitor
is a very bad prosecutor.

I'll have to deal with it alone.

He's afraid of himself. That's it.

What does it have to do with me?

It will be light soon.

Put this on, it's cold.

What will you do today, Franziska?

Sleep.

Yes, sleep as long as you like.

And tonight or tomorrow morning
you'll return to Germany.

You have a sixth sense.

It wasn't difficult to guess.
You have no other choice.

Come with me. I mean it!

I could use someone here
on board.

I'm fed up with the boys
who are dying to travel with me.

It must be lovely
to travel with a charming lady.

We'll make
quite an interesting couple.

You'll cause a stir in every port,
with your hair.

Of course, you'd have to wear jeans
and a sweater. Perhaps blue.

Could I wear green?
Blue doesn't suit me.

Whatever you like.
That's no reason not to do it.

We'll leave as soon as
I'm finished with Kramer.

What does he mean with "finished"?

Why does he want a woman along?

I just want you with me.
I know something will happen to me.

That's why you should stay with me.

What could happen, if you're sensible?

Stay away from that man.
What can you do?

Kill him or get killed yourself?

Perhaps I'd be more careful,
if you were with me.

May I at least take you to dinner,
before you leave?

I may have to leave at noon today.
It depends on a phone call.

Oh, my God!
I'm not thinking of the essentials.

No, I don't want to see him again,
or to be part of his story.

Here. I nearly forgot
that you're in a predicament. Here.

A lump sum for the ship's boy?

Thank you.

I'll think it over by tonight...
with the green sweater.

Really. In case I'm still here.

I'll wait for you in any case.
At seven, here at the quay?

So, here at seven.
Don't forget.

I can offer you freedom.

Now I have a few more options.

I could stay here 2 weeks longer,
or go to Milan,

or go back to Germany...

Or sail away with him.
It's crazy, a chance like that.

That would surely be the easiest.

But I'd be running away.
It's no solution.

I'll call Joachim.

Dortmund?

Your call to Dortmund. Cubicle 2.

Thank you.

He didn't stand a chance
as long as I was in trouble.

Now he can have her,
like Herbert had her.

I want to hear what he has to say.

Pronto. Joachim?

You're in Venice? What for?

Herbert went back immediately,
or he called.

Haven't you anything to say?

Listen, this is your money.

You could at least
have called collect.

Is Herbert there?

No, but on his way.
It was stupid to run away from him.

I didn't just run away from Herbert.
I don't care if it was stupid.

Then why did you call?

I need money.

I see. So Herbert is right.

He said you'd have to give up soon.

I said it was out of the question.
If you actually did that,

you'd plan it very carefully.

You're wrong.
I'm not giving up.

I want the money,
so I don't have to give up.

I'll send you a ticket to Dortmund.
Nothing more.

A sleeping car.

I could hang up. I've reached
the same point as with Herbert.

Would it have gone on like that?

Why not?

It will always go on like that.
You liked it that way.

He's right.
I always liked it that way.

Franziska!

Are you still there? Hello!

It will always go on...
- Franziska!

It will go on... No!

That whiteness in the distance must
be snow. The Dolomites, mountains.

I'd have to cross them,
if I go back.

He was right.
Venice is lovely from up here.

Herbert would say, "Isn't
Longhena's dome extraordinary?"

I won.

What do you mean?
- I sometimes split myself

into two parts
that bet with each other.

Today I bet that I would meet you
here. I won!

A risky bet.
- No, it isn't a weekday.

Interpreters don't work on Sunday.
And it's a clear day.

The half that wished you here
had good odds.

And the other half
wanted me to go to hell.

My other half always has the same
wish. It wants to be alone.

It usually succeeds. How nice,
that the other half won today.

It is lovely.

Thank you. You are showing me
your city for the 2nd time.

This is not a city.

It's a jungle
made of water and stones,

haunted by the ghosts
of centuries past.

Possibly.
I only see the people of today.

The people of today? They'll be
the ghosts of tomorrow.

There are the ghosts of today.

Anything happening in Venice today?

I don't know. Possibly.

An important man
is visiting an important man.

Very important people together.

People are standing around.

It looks funny from up here.

Funny or ghostly.

For me, it's the only way
of watching politics.

Up here, I'm above it all.

You're so arrogant.

With you, too?

No.

Everyone sees what you have seen
of Venice.

If you have time, I'll show you what
no one sees. The end of the world.

How exciting. And that's in Venice?

Want to bet?

I refuse to bet with you.

One of your two halves
always wins.

Where are we?
- In the old national library.

Built by Sansovino.
- I've never been here before.

Tourists rarely come here.
- I'm no tourist...

Of course. I'm sorry.

These are documents
written by Venetian envoys.

Years full of intrigues,
murder and oppression.

Venice is a terrible city.

Centuries full of paintings,
music, poetry...

These things are no use.
Oppression continues. Come with me.

Voilà. This is where I work.

Do you know what
an Italian writer is?

A being that lives from scholarships.

I've already published six books,

but no Italian author is able
to live from writing.

Venice was so good to award me
an honorary research project:

Reconstruction of political murders
from the 14th century.

The misdeeds of our elders
keep us fed today.

I sit there all night,
betraying the Republic of Venice.

You see, I am writing a novel
instead of doing historical research.

It deals with the political murders
of today. - What a lovely view!

Beautiful.

I can't stand it.
I close the shutters during the day.

Then I don't have to look
at this postcard.

Why don't you work at home?
- At home?

Ah, I live at home,
I live at home. At home...

I'm sure I couldn't work at home.

You should visit me at my home.
Then you'd understand.

Is your desk the end of the world?

This one? No.
Come on, I'll show it to you.

An old map of the world.
- Perhaps the world's best.

Drawn at the end of the Middle Ages
by Fra Mauro, a Venetian monk

who was an excellent geographer.

It looks mysterious.

You've shown me the world,
not its end.

Look carefully at this world,
then you'll see it.

The monk still believed
the world was a round disc,

not a sphere. But a disc

requires an edge.

An edge that encloses it.

The end of the world.

But there is no such end.
- Yes, because the earth is a sphere.

Just imagine if it wasn't.

Then you could actually
go to the end of the world.

We are condemned
to crawling around a sphere.

We never reach the edge,
never reach the end.

That's what I wanted
when I left Herbert and Joachim.

I wanted to come to an end.
And where did I end up?

Back at the beginning!
- Pardon?

Sorry? Oh, nothing.

I was just thinking.

Yes, I have to get back to my hotel.

I'm tired.
I didn't get any sleep last night.

Will you have dinner with me tonight?
- I'm afraid I have a date.

That's a shame.

I wish you'd tell me your name.

I have the name of a man.
- Is that important?

Not anymore.
- I'm sure you have another name,

your very own.
- Franziska.

Franziska.

I'm Fabio Crepaz.

Have you heard the name before?

But I will read your books.
- I'd rather you spent time with me

than waste it on those books.

You know where to find me.

Where are you taking me?
- Perhaps you won't like it.

It's a bistro,
a real one, with no tourists.

I eat here every evening.
The restaurants around San Marco

are so boring.

Why do rich people
love to eat in bars?

A martini.

Very dry.

A martini for me, too, please.

Could you turn off the terrible music
please? - Don't you like jazz?

That's supposed to be jazz?
- What a snob!

Take her to a bar where she can hear
jazz for snobs.

Dinner's ready.
- Yes, thank you.

Please, excuse me.

That was quite embarrassing.
- Why?

I'm not a prissy type.
I enjoyed it.

Is this young man dining with us?

Hello, O'Malley.
We missed you yesterday.

Especially Luigi. Ciao, padre mio.

This is one of your countrymen.
I told you about...

This lady is with you?
Quite a clever idea.

Bartolomeo's wife is a fabulous cook.

You won't find any better food
in Venice. Giovanna,

what are you serving today?

Manzo bollito
and the red salad and white beans.

Mussels beforehand? For 3.

Why didn't you tell me?
- You wouldn't have come.

Go on whispering.

But tell her too much about me,
and it'll be unpleasant for you.

I know who you are.
I know everything.

A pity. You seemed so likeable.

Something must be wrong with me,
if you find me likeable, Mr. Kramer!

Don't call me by my name.
It isn't my name anymore.

Enjoy your meal.

I should leave this place.

Why don't I?
Can I not? Don't I want to?

The man fascinates me.

You have to open it by hand.
You see?

Like this.

I can't swallow a bite
in the presence of this man.

It would actually be my first
real meal in Milan.

What are you doing? Stop it.

Hands off!

Have a look at this button.

Pure gold. O'Malley gave it to me
a few days ago.

Brass buttons would tarnish
so quickly.

I'll give you the button
as a souvenir of our dinner tonight.

To a fellow countryman
who can't go home.

What do you call them?
Refugees.

Doesn't quite fit in my case, right?

Come on.

Off with it.

Oh, the Signora is generous.
She gave you pure gold!

Show it to Bartolomeo.

Now you will witness
a wonderful play.

You will watch Kramer eat.
One should charge admission.

Go on. Help yourself.
You can hardly wait.

Well?
- No, thanks.

You seem to have made
a big impression on him.

Here you are.

Did I promise too much?

One might call that "feeding".

One can easily insult him now.

You can say anything to that
sweating, gluttonous face.

You're a cruel murderer.

You see: this is the best part.

You see; he's beginning to sneeze.

Look at that!

It's what is called...

gastric sneezing, I was told.

There are gluttons who sneeze
15 to 20 times after every meal.

Now he needs some fresh air.

Why have you forced me
to meet this monster?

Please, stay. I have my reasons.

Kill him.
That's something I could understand.

But yapping at him like a dog
and staring in fascination, that's...

disgusting.
- I beg you.

The sneezing and the fresh air
did me good.

Something very strange
was mentioned beforehand.

By the way, it doesn't bother me
when he says that. He's biased.

You're different.
- You can hear it from me, too.

You're quite impertinent, madam.

I hope you've told her everything.

I saved his life.
In return, someone else had to die.

That was par for the course then.
You should know

he was very cooperative,
that pretty boy.

With his tender hands

that were so badly damaged.

So we meet again.

War comrades, so to speak.

Giovanna.

Remain seated. Beer!

Beer, Giovanna!

But you'll try my old man's beer
someday. At my place.

Who is that woman?

You?

Yes.

Although I wasn't betting on this.

You gave me a sign:
Your light went out.

What happened? You look

as if you'd seen a ghost.

I have seen a ghost!

I should have dined with you.

Instead I dined with a murderer.
- A murderer?

I told you Venice is horrible.

But you're still alive.

In the cases
I'm dealing with,

the beautiful ladies end up
in the Canale Grande or...

with their throats slit. If the lover
doesn't arrive in time.

Some coffee at our bar?
- No,

not in a bar!

I don't want to see
one more bar in Venice.

Want to come to my place?

Yes, just to be with him,
after so much filth.

Close to him.
Close to someone.

No.

OK, perhaps we could go
to our end of the world.

Yes.

You're an unusual woman. A German
in Venice, not a tourist,

an interpreter by profession...

No job, no money, no luggage,
no destination. A tramp.

Perhaps a trickster.
Everything points to that.

No. You are running away.

You're fleeing from something.

Very close.

But I'm no longer fleeing.

Could I have a cigarette?

I should go now.
I'm holding you up.

I'll be going.

Holding me up? No.

You never hold me up.

Never.
- I'd like to leave now.

Then leave.
When one's tired, one should go.

I'm not tired.

That's why I want to leave.

Are you certain
that it isn't an "errore"?

"Er-ro-re" is how you say it.

Er-ro-re.
- Er-ro-re.

We agreed as far as the first bridge.

Ciao.
- When will you call me?

I'll call you when I'm awake.

No, no.

When I'm awake,
I'll know it's over.

Then I'll know that I ran away
to be free.

Perhaps I should call you.
- I'll call you.

Ciao, Fabio.
- Ciao.

At last. This man has been waiting
for you since midnight.

I have to apologize.
I lost my nerve.

It was terrible for you.
- Why was it necessary?

Terror attracts me.
- How does that concern me?

Travel with me.
I'll be normal again tomorrow.

You'll never be normal again.
I don't want to end up like you.

The only thing I can do
is to go to the police.

You won't ever neutralize Kramer.
You're a failure.

I'll bring the boat at 5
to the bridge. I'll wait for you!

And this man personally
threatened you?

He didn't actually threaten me.

But he is dangerous,
don't you see?

He has a political past.

There are countless people like that,
everywhere.

This murderer is wanted back home.

So the German police are responsible,

not us. There's no reason
for me to take action.

But people like that can be dangerous
for those who know about them!

That was all over ages ago.

If you could tell me
he threatened you, personally,

here... - You only investigate crimes
after they've been committed!

If we listened to every frightened
woman... Especially one

who meets unsuitable persons
at unsuitable places.

Perhaps it's ridiculous
that I feel threatened.

I was indeed out with unsuitable
people. But that's over now.

I'm going to take the next train.
I'll find a job somewhere.

How much do I have left? The ring!

How can I help you?

I'd like to sell a ring.

It's a bad time.
We have very few customers in winter.

Nothing special.

A bit of gold, small diamond
fragments. Looks more valuable

than it is. Unfortunately.

Those aren't diamond fragments.
They're cut diamonds

and rubies.
- If you say so.

What would you give me for it?

15,000, but I'm being quite obliging.

The ring cost over 1,000 marks,
that's 150,000 lire.

At Carstens in Düsseldorf.

That's a name
much like Faraone in Milan.

You're in trouble.
I want to be obliging.

I'll offer you 18,000,

because I believe
the ring is from Carstens.

OK. Well, OK.

18,000 lire.

That makes 120 marks.
That's insane.

You always lose
when you need something badly.

How much did he pay for the ring?
- 18,000 lire.

And what's it worth?
- 150,000.

You bought a ring from this lady.

It's worth 150,000. You paid

18,000.
- You can have the ring back.

I just wanted to be obliging.

She doesn't want it back.

She wants a decent price.

If you press the alarm

it will be unpleasant for you.
I'll explain to the police

why I'm here.
- What do you mean?

I'll give you a minute to...

pay the lady another 35,000 lire.

If not, I'll call Marcello Tacchi
from the Fraud Department.

He's especially interested
in fraud with foreigners.

I appeal to your intelligence.
Please, consider

what you would have to pay Tacchi

to keep it from the press.

You see.

OK, here.

Thank you very much.
So, you do blackmail, too.

It was my pleasure.

Just a moment.
- What do you want?

If you didn't know my story,
you'd mean nothing to me.

I don't mind it when someone
calls me a murderer. I am one.

According to current opinion.

However, opinions can change.
Let's go.

A beer. What would you like?
- Nothing, thank you.

At once, Signore.

It all depends on who knows it.

Since I know your story, I know
you're dangerous. - Why?

Weren't you at the police station
this morning, Mrs. Lukas?

I was aware
that it would lead to nothing.

You think I'd be running around
scot-free otherwise? Where's my beer?

Right away!

You will try to change your life
in Germany.

Knowing that I'm alive and free
will be an obstacle for you.

At some time you will put someone
on my trail.

You want everything neat and tidy,

you're intolerant,
so you'll report me.

The Italians will have to approve
my extradition,

despite the scandal it would cause.

Why didn't O'Malley do it?
He has more reason to.

He'd kill me; but he'd do it
only if I asked him to.

Nothing has changed since I had him
where I wanted him. He's the mouse.

He's a poor prosecutor.
He shares the guilt.

Now you have me where you want me.

You have romantic ideas.

We'll reach an agreement.
- An agreement?

Be reasonable.
I can get you a job.

I have friends,
influential businessmen,

who have urgent need
of someone like you.

Everything else
you can arrange yourself.

You're attractive,
by local standards, too.

You'll pay a high price
for my silence.

He knows I'm done for if I run
to some Italian Herbert,

if I reach an agreement.

Is it a deal?

No.

In case you plan to leave Venice,

I heard some boys from the bar
are waiting at the station for you.

There's no way to go by ship
or plane in fog like this.

I think you're trying to provoke
some kind of incident.

You'd have problems with the police.
I want to spare you that.

Consider my offer.

When do you expect my reply?

Come to Café Florian at five.

I appeal to your common sense.

Fabio. Yes.

Sorry, Signore Crepaz
already left, at noon today.

You know where he went?
- No.The key to Archive 3 is here.

Where does he live?

I don't know.

When is he returning?

I don't know.
He normally works at night.

I only see him when I take
the "Stampa" up, before I lock up.

Would you like to leave a message?

No, thanks.

Thank you.

I'm sorry.

You can tell him I left.
At five today.

Yes, Signora. Have a good trip.

But I can't promise
that I'll see him tonight.

Hello, Franziska!

I was sure you'd come.
Despite the incident yesterday.

Whisky?
- Yes.

When are we leaving?

Let's leave soon.
- I'm waiting for my papers.

It isn't so easy to leave a port.
- I know.

I had a long talk
with Kramer today.

I figured that he'd follow you.

He's expecting me at five
at Café Florian.

It's five now.

He wants to help me.
Everyone wants to help me.

As if it were a race, but...

It's not that I want to help you.

I really need you.

Would you like to see your cabin?
It's tiny, but cosy.

Later.

It's good you didn't take revenge
on Kramer.

He was the means of your treason.

Did he convince you of that?

I knew it before I met him.

How intelligent you are.
Do you think

I don't know that?

Of course, the evil that makes us
act is never responsible.

We alone are responsible.
- Yes.

Our conscience.

Talking about one's conscience, keeps
one from looking evil in the face.

Isn't that right?
- That's not a reproach.

I don't care
if the devil is innocent or not.

I only know one thing.
He must be destroyed.

Oh, Kramer! Good afternoon.

Remarkable.
We were just talking about you.

Why aren't you at Café Florian?

I was holding her up.
- And you?

What for?

You must think the boat is
your only way of escaping.

Mark my words: You don't get
chances like this!

Like some whisky?
Makes talking easier.

I don't like your boozing
and your talk.

But my whisky is very good.

Special Whisky from old O'Malley.

I'd prefer to try the beer
you're always talking about.

It's hot here.

Beer? Okay.

We're leaving, the lady and I.

Perhaps in half an hour.

You can leave if you like,
but not with her.

She'd never let me go.
You only want to kill me.

She wants to ruin me.

She wants to have me tried in court
like some little murderer.

She wants to see them prove

that I'm nothing
but a little murderer,

or a sick man that can be cured.
That's what she wants.

To erase me
from people's memories.

Nonsense. Perhaps she once
thought of doing so.

But I'm sure she's given it up.
I guarantee it.

It tastes so clean, it tastes so cool:
O'Malley's beer from Liverpool.

I wrote those lines. They increased
my father's sales.

I tell you this: I never acted
on orders, as others did!

I only obeyed my own orders,
wherever I was.

I'm no little murderer,
O'Malley, am I?

No, you're the devil.

Remember. Giovanna didn't want
to give it back to me at first.

It was quite simple.

A bit of potassium cyanide.

I had prepared the whisky, but
I knew he'd have a beer.

You thought I wasn't capable
of doing it, didn't you?

I was capable.

You witnessed it.

The machine has been turned off.
Am I a failure?

Am I still a failure?

Without you, I couldn't have done it.
When I saw you, it was clear

that you'd succeed in doing
what I never could:

be taken seriously by Kramer.

I knew he'd follow you
to the end of the world,

even onto my boat here.

And I knew
the boat was your last resort.

My plan worked out.

You had to lead him to me.

I could only finish the job here.

You were using me

from the beginning. And I thought
you wanted to help me.

But... I do want to help you.

We'll leave at once.

On the Adria, I'll put weights in his
coat and throw him into the sea.

We'll erase him forever
from our minds.

What's wrong with you?

Are you afraid?

I don't know.

I just know it was senseless.

The devil is dead.

The city is hiding.

It will be easy for Patrick.

Are you afraid?

I don't know.

I just don't know.

First, I just want to leave.

Where to?
- I don't know.

Back to Joachim...

No, it can't go on like that.

What do you want anyway?

It will go on like that.
You always liked it that way.

Yes, but now you're dead, Joachim.

Like Herbert and Patrick.

Dead like Kramer.

Then one could really go
to the end of the world.

To the end of space and time.

A wonderful thought.

Just the two of us. You and I,
standing at the end of the world.

Why wasn't Fabio there? That murder
wouldn't have happened.

Perhaps he was looking for me, too.
If my message reached him,

he'll be standing at the bridge now.

And he thinks
I left with the murderer.

Nonsense.
He knows nothing about the boat.

He knows nothing about me.

I'm through with Venice.

Kramer is dead,
but the terror continues.

I'm still caught in the trap.

Franziska.

When is the next train leaving?
- Where to? - Doesn't matter.

A train to Mestre. There you have
connections to everywhere.

Connections. Yes.
- 450 lire.

Connections to everywhere.

Connections to everywhere.

Subtitles
John R. Middleton

Film und Video Untertitelung
Gerhard Lehmann AG