Sophie's Choice (1982) - full transcript

Sophie is the survivor of Nazi concentration camps, who has found a reason to live in Nathan, a sparkling if unsteady American Jew obsessed with the Holocaust. They befriend Stingo, the movie's narrator, a young American writer new to New York City. But the happiness of Sophie and Nathan is endangered by her ghosts and his obsessions.

Thank you.

You’re welcome.

You must help us, Sophie.

Stop torturing her.

Sophie!

What is that?

It’s a photo of children rejected
from the Germanization program.

The “Lebensborn” program.

These are children

taken from Polish parents

who, at first, were believed



to have Aryan racial features.

They were to be taken to Germany

and raised as Germans.

But, at some point, it was decided

that they were racially unsuitable.

Unsuitable!

That’s why they were consigned

for disposal.

All we ask of you is to translate
some stolen Gestapo documents.

I can’t.

I cannot endanger my children.

Your children could be next.

No. No.
I do not want to get involved.

This woman will be



Commandant Höss’ secretary.

Take her downstairs.
See that she showers thoroughly.

Give me your clothes.

Here is the shower.

You must use this disinfectant soap.

It burns and it stinks.

But you must use it,
because she has a good nose.

Shoes!

Put your shoes here.

Please don’t take them.
They were a gift from my father.

My God, how’d you keep them in the camp?

I hid them.
Please ….

If she sees them, she’ll take them away.

I’ll clean them.
Please, they are all I have.

Well, all right.

Thank you.

Shh!

Don’t be afraid.

I was told you could help us.

Will you help the resistance?

But what can I do?

Emmi Höss has a radio.
Her room is under her father’s office

where you will work.
If you could get the radio,

bring it down here.
I could smuggle it out.

Sure, sure, I give you the radio,

you smuggle it out, and I
get shot for stealing it.

That’s why you must make Höss trust you.

But how?

He is a man and you are a woman ….

Of course!

Bald, starving, stinking of germicides.

Very impressive!

You’re wrong.
You look German.

You speak cultured German.
You’ll be working with him alone

and he’s an unhappy man.

Then do something for me.
What?

You must find my son.

His name is Jan.
He’s in the Children’s Camp.

What do you want to know?

If …. If he is ….

If he’s alive, right?
Yes.

I understand.

Maybe Höss could arrange to get him out.

I baked Himmler’s favourite cake.

This is the new

secretary from the Camp.

Take her to the office.

Himmler can’t stay for dinner.

Do you think it’s deliberate?

Why deliberate?

You said the escapes, the delays
with the building upset him.

Enough!

Imagine, that idiot guard took the
new girl right into the kitchen

without disinfecting her.
In the kitchen!

I mean, the children ….
They are perfectly healthy.

That’s because they’re well fed here.

What happens if we leave?

They will have to sacrifice
like other German children.

You are looking well.

I hardly drank

after I left here.

Can you imagine?

My father asked me what kind of medicine

I practice here.

What can I tell him?

I perform God’s work.

I select who shall live
and who shall die.

Is that not God’s work?

You’re too young to recall what
was done to Germany in defeat.

We cannot afford to be kind
if we are to survive.

There is an epidemic
in the Children’s Camp.

No matter what we do,
they die like flies.

You cannot afford to be so sensitive.

… and lastly
a trait of character

common to all people of southern climes,

a certain dullness of mind ….

Do I speak too fast?

No, Commandant.

Excuse me.

I’m sorry to disturb you,

but I thought maybe
if you could go to Berlin

and explain to Himmler
how unfair his order is,

maybe he’d change his mind.

There’s no appeal.
We’re being transferred and that’s that.

My pills, quick!

Shall I call the doctor?
Be quiet.

It’s unbearable.

It’s better now.

That ergotamine is a miracle.

I’m glad, Commandant.

Sit down.

How did you come here?

Not many prisoners are lucky
enough to find such work.

I think

it must have been fate.

Fate brought me to you

because I knew only you would understand.

Understand what?

That a mistake has been made.

May I show you something?

This is one of the earliest
Polish documents

suggesting a “final solution”
to the Jewish problem.

I helped my father to write it.

Perhaps you will realize the
injustice of my imprisonment.

So, you claim you are innocent.

Sir, I freely admit my guilt
of the minor charge

which caused me to be sent here.

I only ask that this misdemeanour
be compared to my record,

not only as a Polish sympathizer
with National Socialism,

but as an active campaigner in
the sacred war against the Jews.

That pamphlet in your hand,
Commandant, will prove my point.

I implore you. You have the power
to give clemency and freedom.

Please ….

You forget you are a Pole and,
therefore, an enemy of the Reich,

and that you always will be

even if you are not guilty of a crime.

You’ve been flirting shamelessly with me.

It’s hard to believe you’re Polish

with your perfect German
and the way you look,

your fair skin,
the structure of your face.

So typically Aryan.

You are an unusually attractive woman.

There is something
about certain Aryan women,

A pure and radiant beauty,

fair of skin

and fair of hair,

that inspires me

to idolize that beauty.

Wait.

Your pardon, sir.
A question from Frau Höss, sir.

As the child just recovered from
the flu, madam wishes to know

if, in your view, Iphigenie is
well enough to go to a matinee

or should she consult Dr Schmidt?

If Frau Höss thinks she’s well
enough to go to a matinee,

then I expect she’s well
enough to go to a matinee!

I would risk a great deal
to have relations with you.

If I were not leaving,
I’d take that risk.

But I must go.
And so must you.

I’m sending you back to Block 3.
You will go tomorrow.

Commandant, I know
I can’t ask much for myself

and that you must follow the rules.

But I beg you to do one thing
for me before you send me back.

I have a young son in the Camp.
His name is Jan.

Jan Zawistowski.
He is ten years old.

I am afraid for his health.

I beg you to consider
some way to release him.

He is frail, and so very young.

Please.

If I have impressed you, even
slightly, with my presence,

I beg you to do this for me,

not to release me, just free my little boy.
Please.

You think you could get me
to contravene regulations

because I showed some little affection?
It’s disgusting.

There is a legal way!
There is the “Lebensborn” program.

He is a perfect candidate for it.

You could move my child from the
Camp into the “Lebensborn” program.

Send him to the Reich to be
raised as a good German.

He is blond and looks German

and speaks perfect German as I do.

Don’t you see how my little boy, Jan,

would be so right for “Lebensborn”?

I will have your son
brought here tomorrow.

You will see him and then I will arrange

For him to be removed from the Camp.

You have no business in this room.

I’m sorry, miss, I was only ….

You came to steal that radio.
You were about to pick it up.

I’ll tell my father.

He will have you punished.

I was only going to look at it.
I swear.

I’ve passed by here so often.
I’ve never seen a radio,

so small, so cunning.

I couldn’t believe it really worked.
I just ….

Liar!
You wanted to steal it.

I knew by the look on your face.

You must believe me.
I wouldn’t take your radio.

Yes, you would.
It cost 70 marks.

You’d listen to music in the cellar.
You’re a dirty Polack!

Mother says Polacks are
worse thieves than Gypsies

and dirtier, too.

You stink!

Wake up.

You fainted.

Breathe deeply,
the cold air will revive you.

Keep your head flat to get
the flow of blood back.

The first-aid manual says
a smack will help.

Sit erect and lean against the bed.

I’ll say one thing, you’re very pretty.

My mother said you must be Swedish.

Tell me, what’s that design
on your dress?

My swimming championship badge.

I was class champion.
I was only 8.

Where was that, Emmi?

In Dachau.
Dachau was so much nicer than Auschwitz.

We had a wonderful heated pool
only for officers’ children.

I’ll show you my album.

This is me as a baby.

This is me receiving the medal.

This is the pool in Dachau.

This is me with my mommy.

This is also me

with my daddy.

Emmi?

I’m getting undressed.

Perhaps we’ll go swimming
together tomorrow.

Great, Daddy.

Good night, Emmi.
Good night, Daddy.

Mommy, you’re hurting me!

You’re so beautiful.

I’d like to get you in bed.

Are you a Polack?

You!

Are you also one of those
filthy communists?

I am a Pole!

I was born in Krakow! I am not a Jew!
Neither are my children!

They’re not Jews.
They are racially pure.

I’m a Christian.

I’m a devout Catholic.

You’re not a communist?

You’re a believer.

Yes, sir.
I believe in Christ.

So you believe in Christ, the Redeemer?

Yes!

Did he not say,

“Suffer the little children

“to come unto me?”

You may keep one of your children.

I beg your pardon?

You may keep one of your children.

The other one must go.

You mean, I have to choose?

You’re a Polack not a Yid.

That gives you a privilege, a choice.

I can’t choose!
I can’t choose!

Be quiet.
I can’t choose!

Choose!
Or I’ll send them both over there!

Make a choice!

Don’t make me choose!
I can’t!

I’ll send them both over there.

Shut up!
Enough!

I told you to shut up!
Make a choice!

Don’t make me choose!
I can’t!

I’ll send them both over there!
I can’t choose!

Take both children away!

Move!

Take my little girl!

Take my baby!

Take my little girl!