The Prague Orgy (2019) - full transcript

First time in Czechoslovakia?

Yes.

Do you have a reason

for your visit?

Tourism.

We were on the same flight,

weren"t we?

- Were we?

- I"ve ordered a car.

I can give you a lift

to the city if you want,

so that no one bothers you.

Thank you,

that"s very kind of you,

but I have someone

waiting for me here.

A pity. Be careful.

Thank you.

Mr. Zuckerman,

I"m Rudolf Bolotka.

It"s great to meet you, Rudolf.

Please call me Nathan.

Welcome to Prague, Nathan.

Thank you.

Larry Stern sends

his best regards.

Thank you!

How is Larry doing?

He"s good. He's good.

How was your flight?

Long.

- Hop into my limousine.

- Thank you, sir.

Nathan, I"ve arranged

your dates with the writers

for later tonight.

Thank you.

What else brings you to Prague?

Having a well-spent time.

That"s no problem,

even in occupied Prague.

Do you like orgies?

I would think so.

To be honest, um,

I"m interested in the scene

around Jerzy Klenek.

- Ah, Klenek.

- Yeah.

Have rumors

of his marvelous parties

made it to America too?

I would say so.

Whoever wants to be someone

in Prague goes there.

That"s no problem.

Ever since the Russian invasion,

the best orgies in Europe

are in Czechoslovakia.

Less liberty,

better fucks.

Call me when you"re ready,

I"ll pick you up,

but don"t call from the hotel.

Everything"s bugged.

There"s a phone booth

over there.

Here"s some change.

Okay.

Bye.

Hi.

Change money? Change money?

Sorry, no thanks.

- Good afternoon.

- Good afternoon.

Welcome to Prague,

Mr. Zuckerman.

Thank you.

Why am I always saying

to myself,

"Do not let yourself

be stopped"?

Am I really here

to strike a deal with a woman

who I don"t know?

Or do I just want

to struggle with myself?

I appreciate the award,

I really do, it"s just...

You know, I don"t want to talk

about my books.

In my opinion, there should be

a 100-year moratorium

on all literature talk.

Okay, Nathan Zuckerman, still,

let me ask you a question.

The, uh, response

to your latest book

has been tremendous.

Its, uh, hilarious treatment

of sexual excess

has offended a lot of people,

and yet it"s still at the top

of the best seller list.

What do you say

about this phenomenon?

Personally,

I"d be more surprised

if the response were

mild indifference.

Right.

Are there any more questions?

Mr. Zuckerman, uh,

do you really regard sex

as a battle between man

and a toothed vagina?

That is my ludicrous fate:

to be the opposite

of the man that you say I am.

Thank you.

- Joe.

- Thank you, Larry.

Since the Soviet occupation

in 1968, you"ve been helping

prohibited writers

in Czechoslovakia.

Specifically,

how does your work help them?

Many excellent

Czechoslovakian writers

have been banned

or forced into exile.

We try to support them.

We seek financial aid for them,

and we want to publish

their work here.

Thank you.

Fascinating.

Uh, Nathan,

congratulations once again

and wishing you

much more success.

Thank you, Larry,

it"s been a pleasure.

Thank you.

I"ve heard you're going

to Prague?

Yeah, I"m gonna meet

a couple writers there.

I wouldn"t recommend that,

Zuckerman.

The situation in Czechoslovakia

may be dangerous.

The regime"s tightening

its grip.

The Soviets are carrying out

political purges there.

I want you to meet someone.

Zdenek.

This may interest you, Nathan.

- Hello, Larry.

- This is Eva.

Zdenek is a Czech writer.

He used to be well-recognized

till he fell out

of the regime"s favor.

Your novel is absolutely one

of the five or six books

of my life.

- Zdenek Sisovsky.

- Hi.

Eva Kalinova.

We both originate from Prague.

- Very nice to meet you.

- Nice to meet you.

I"ve been watching

the whole scandalous response

to your book.

It interests me

because my own work

also had a scandalous response

in Czechoslovakia.

Really?

And what was the scandal?

Please, I don"t wish to compare

our two books.

Yours is a work of genius,

mine is nothing.

Not quite nothing.

It got you exiled.

You"ll have to tell Nathan.

I gotta go.

I"ll give you a call.

Thank you very much.

- Nathan?

- Yeah?

- Talk to my Czech friend.

- Yeah, thanks, Larry.

Walk with me?

Great idea.

Mr. Zuckerman,

it would be a great honor

if you had lunch with us.

I will invite you.

Taxi.

Let"s go.

Eva?

Thank you.

Eva is a different case.

She has only hatred.

Hatred?

For what?

Well, for everyone

who has betrayed you,

for everyone who has hurt you.

You hate them,

and you wish they were dead.

I don"t even think

of them anymore.

You wish them

to be tortured in hell.

I have forgotten them

completely.

I should like to tell you

about Eva Kalinova.

Eva is Prague"s great

Chekhovian actress.

No one there will dispute it,

not even the regime.

- Oh.

- There is no Nina since hers,

no Irina, no Masha.

I don"t want this.

All of the country

has been in love with her.

Soon she will be acting again.

To be an actress in America,

you must speak English

that doesn"t give people

a headache.

Eva, sit down. Sit down.

Lots of outstanding actresses

speak English with an accent,

and they give a headache

to no one.

You cannot be on stage

and speak English

that nobody can understand.

Come on.

And I do not want to perform

any more plays.

I had enough of being

an artificial person.

I"m glad to be finished

with all my successes.

Brezhnev has given me a chance

to be an ordinary nobody.

I sell dresses,

and dresses are needed more

by people

than stupid, emotional,

Chekhovian actresses.

You must tell him about

the Vice-Minister of Culture

and what happened with him

after you left your husband.

- Please stop it.

- No, no, no, Eva, please.

Tell me.

Really, I"m interested.

- Thank you.

- Thank you.

Well, and Eva is dismissed

from the National Theatre.

The Vice-Minister

is so pleased with himself

that he goes around boasting

how he handled Sisovsky"s whore.

Maybe he believes that when

the news reaches Moscow,

the Russians will give him

a medal for...

his cruelty and anti-Semitism.

Why do you persecute me?

I do not care to be

an ironical character

in the Czech story.

Everything that happens

in Czechoslovakia,

they say, "Pure Kafka,

pure Svejk."

I"m sick of it.

What do you want to do

at home alone?

Have a drink, Eva!

Try to enjoy life

in the free world.

Okay, I understand,

but Zuckerman is interested.

Sorry, I must go.

You"re gonna let her leave?

Eva.

Eva, wait, please.

Just come and sit down.

Why?

"Cause I can't let you go

like this.

Don"t let us draw you

into our stories.

- Hello?

- Rudolf!

Hi, it"s Nathan.

- Hi.

- How are things?

Everything"s arranged.

I"ll pick you up

in half an hour, agreed?

Okay, bye.

So, this is where

you"ll always find me.

Ah, it"s very nice.

No, this way.

Welcome to my kingdom.

- What, this is where you work?

- Mm-hmm.

You, a brilliant

theater director?

I have worked here as a janitor

since I was fired

from the theater.

The menial work is done now

by the writers

and the teachers

and the construction engineers,

and the construction is run

by the drunks and the crooks.

Half a million people

have been fired from their jobs.

Sisovsky, I didn"t realize

on top of everything else

that you"re Jewish.

My father was a Jew,

my mother was not.

He taught mathematics

and was a writer.

He wrote hundreds of stories

about Jews,

only he did not publish

a single one.

My father didn"t use Yiddish,

but he wrote his stories

in Yiddish.

Unique stories

about a long-forgotten world,

stories about homelessness

and uprootedness.

My father was killed before

they started transporting Jews

from mixed marriages.

Oh, what happened to him?

Two drunk Nazis

were having a fight.

He was out on the street

with my older brother,

the yellow star on his coat,

and out of nowhere,

one of the Nazis comes up to

them and simply starts firing.

He shot them both,

my father and my brother

as well.

What happened to your mother

and to you?

My mother hid on a farm,

and there I was born

two months later.

- So you never met your father?

- No.

But his stories are the best

I have ever read.

I am obsessed

with the great Jewish writer

that might have been.

Do you have his stories

with you here in New York?

No, they are in Prague

with my books,

and my books in Prague

are with my wife

who is also in Prague,

and my wife does not like me

so much anymore.

I am afraid I will never see

my father"s stories again.

My mother goes to ask

and my wife shows her

photographs

of all my mistresses, naked.

These, too,

I left behind in Prague

with my books, unfortunately.

Do you think she would destroy

the stories?

No, no, she couldn"t do that.

Olga is a writer, too,

she loves literature.

In Czechoslovakia,

she"s very well known

for her writing,

and for her drinking,

and for showing everybody

her vagina.

You would like Olga.

Okay!

Actually, wait.

This is Olga.

If you were to visit Prague,

and I know you are going to,

and you were to meet my wife,

she would even give you

my father"s stories.

You really think she would?

If she were to fall in love

with you.

Sisovsky, what exactly

are you suggesting here?

If you were to go about it

the right way, of course.

She loves love.

She does anything for love.

And what"s the right way,

in your opinion?

Nathan, a great American writer,

famous, attractive,

American genius

who does not practice

the American innocence

to a shameless degree.

If he were to ask her

for my father"s stories,

Olga would give them to him.

The only thing is not

to lay her too soon.

You can do whatever you want

in Klenek"s.

No drugs, but plenty of whiskey.

You can fuck,

you can look at dirty pictures,

you can look at yourself

in the mirror,

or you can do nothing.

All the best people are there.

Also the worst.

We"re all comrades now.

Come to the orgy, Zuckerman.

You"ll see the final stage

of the revolution.

You just need to be careful

"cause his house

is bugged everywhere.

The secret police.

They are here all the time.

Like at your home.

- Some wine for you.

- Thank you.

Here you can go alone.

Have a good time.

You may have exaggerated

the depths

of Prague"s depravity.

This... this feels

more like a museum.

Klenek lives in this palazzo,

and he does what he wants.

Why is he so privileged?

He"s the son of a famous

Art Nouveau painter,

and he"s married

a German baroness,

therefore he can travel,

unlike the others.

And he tells them things.

He might be a cop,

but no one tells him anything

because everybody suspects that.

He may well be a double agent.

So what"s the point?

To be a double agent

when everybody knows?

Exactly.

That one,

over there,

he is a terrible

abstract painter.

He made his best painting

the day the Russians invaded us.

He painted over the street signs

so the tanks wouldn"t know

where they were.

He also has

the longest prick in Prague.

Sit down.

That one over there.

That is Mr. Vodicka.

He is a very good writer,

an excellent writer,

but everything scares him.

If he sees a petition,

he passes out.

If he signs one,

he takes it back immediately

and says to the government

that he"s sorry.

Apologizing

for his confused beliefs,

hoping they will let him write

again about his perversion.

Yeah, will they?

Of course not.

They will tell him to write

a historical novel

about beer in Plzen.

I know who you are.

And you are who?

I don"t know.

I don"t even feel I exist.

Do I exist?

Neither do you, my dear, since

you got fired from the theater.

Right?

This one"s Olga.

She has the best legs in Prague.

She"s showing them to you.

Right.

Otherwise she doesn"t exist.

Mr. Vodicka wants something

from Olga.

Who is Olga?

One of the most famous women

in the country.

Olga wrote our love stories.

She"s Klenek's girlfriend,

and she organizes

all these parties.

Her boyfriend, Klenek,

looks after her.

Why does she need

looking after her?

Olga!

Why do you need looking after?

This is awful.

I hear only stories

about myself tonight,

stories about who I fuck.

I would never fuck such people.

Why do you need

looking after, Olga?

Because I"m shaking

and frightened of everything.

Feel me shaking.

She"s shaking.

I"m frightened of him too.

Well, you don"t act frightened.

Since I"m frightened of

everything, it"s all the same.

If I get into too much trouble,

you will marry me

and take me to America.

Oh.

I will telegram you

and you will come and save me.

Do you know what

Mr. Vodicka wants now?

He has a boy

who has never seen a woman.

He wants me to show it to him.

Why are you in Prague?

Looking for Kafka?

The intellectuals

all come here looking for Kafka,

but Kafka is dead.

They should be looking for Olga.

And what would they discover?

Are you planning to make love

to anybody in Prague?

Let me know.

It... there is Kouba.

I can"t be in this house

with that Kouba.

Kouba is one

of our great communist heroes.

It"s surprising

he"s still in Prague.

- Really?

- Not all our great

communist heroes who were

in Italy with their girlfriends

when the Russians invaded

bothered to return.

Do you know why?

At last they were free

of their terrible wives.

So...

why do you come to Prague?

You"re not looking for Kafka,

and you don"t want to fuck.

Fuck.

I love this word, "fuck."

Why don"t we have

this word, Rudolf?

Teach me.

Teach me how to say "fuck."

- This is a good fucking party.

- Ah.

- I was really fucked.

- Yes.

Wonderful word.

Teach me about "fuck."

Um... shut the fuck up!

Beautiful! Shut the fuck up!

More, more.

Fuck it all, fuck everything!

Yes, yes, fuck it all,

fuck everything,

and fuck everybody.

Fuck the world

until it cannot fuck me anymore.

See?

- I learn fast.

- Yeah, real fucking fast.

In America, I would be

a famous writer like you.

He"s afraid to fuck me.

Why is that? Why?

Why do you write this book

about fucking

that makes you so famous

if you"re afraid

to fuck somebody?

You hate fucking everybody

or just me?

Everybody.

He"s a gentleman, Olga.

He doesn"t tell you the truth

because you"re so hopeless.

Why am I hopeless?

Because in America, the girls

don"t talk to him like that.

What do they say in America?

Teach me to be an American girl.

Well, first you would take

your hand off my prick.

Oh, I see.

- Okay.

- Okay.

Now what?

We would talk.

We would try to get

to know each other.

Why?

I don"t understand.

Talk about what, the Indians?

Yes, we would talk at length

about the Indians.

It won"t work

without the Indians?

- No way, right?

- No way.

Okay.

And then I put my hand

on your prick?

That"s right.

And then you fuck me.

That would be the way

we would do it, yes.

America is

a very strange country.

It"s one of them.

But first, I want you

to show me yours.

Olga, why do you want to see it?

I don"t, I've seen too many.

Vodicka wants it.

Now I can already see

the dicks at the cop shop

flourishing the photograph

in front of my face

where all the boys meet

and threaten to jail me

for pedophilia

if I don"t cooperate.

Everywhere in this house,

there are cameras.

On the street, someone is

always snapping my picture.

Half the country is employed

spying on the other half.

I am a rotten, degenerate,

negativistic pseudo-artist,

and this will prove it.

This is how they destroy me.

Why do you do it then?

It is too silly not to.

Come on, guys.

Let"s go.

I"ll show it to him.

Are cameras hidden here?

Klenek says only microphones.

Maybe in the bedrooms

for the fucking,

but you go on the floor

and turn off the lights.

Don"t worry.

Don"t be scared.

You wanna fuck,

fuck her on the floor.

All of us are going to drink

ourselves to death here.

You get onto a streetcar

at night

when the great working class

is on its way home,

and the great working class

smells like a brewery.

How do you all live like this?

Human adaptability

is a great blessing.

Oh! Where"s Mr. Vodicka?

I have no idea.

I"m afraid you have

to get up, Olga.

- I"m going now.

- I come with you.

You must be patient.

Some pretty pussycat of 15

will surely show up.

And she will be worth it.

What are you afraid of?

You can"t have

such a freedom in New York.

But he doesn"t want

a girl of 15.

They are old whores by now.

He wants one who"s 40.

Why do you act like this?

You come all the way

to Czechoslovakia,

you take risks,

and then you act like this.

- I will never see you again.

- Yes, you will.

You"re lying.

You will go back

to those American girls

and talk about the Indians

and fuck them.

Next time,

you will tell me before

and I will study

my Indian tribes.

Olga, Olga, please.

Have lunch with me tomorrow,

okay?

I"ll come,

I"ll get you right here.

But what about tonight?

Why don"t you fuck me now?

An imperialist agent

with no license to fuck.

Why are you leaving me

if you like me?

I don"t understand.

You like me, don"t you?

I do.

That"s not enough.

Leave him alone.

He is a middle-class boy.

But this is

a classless socialist society,

and you take no action.

Your American readers

would be surprised

to see what a respectable

and virtuous man you are.

Yes, yes, I am a quiet

and polite spectator,

and I don"t take my pants off

in public.

All great international figures

come to Prague

to see our oppression,

but none of them will ever fuck.

Why is that?

Neither Sartre

nor Simone de Beauvoir,

neither Heinrich Boll,

Carlos Fuentes.

None!

You all think to sign a petition

will save Czechoslovakia,

but what will save

Czechoslovakia

would be to fuck Olga.

Olga"s drunk.

She"s also crying.

Don"t worry about her.

This is just Olga.

Come on.

Well, I don"t want you

To feel down and out

and all alone

Well, I don"t want you

To feel down and out

and all alone

Well, I don"t want you

Nathan?

The people you wanted to see

are probably expecting us.

We"ll meet them in a beer hall.

Wait, wait, everyone will see us

in a beer hall.

You sure?

But the police don"t want

any scandals in the public.

Are you really leaving?

Now they will interrogate me

about you.

For six hours, they will torture

me with questions,

and I can"t even tell them

we fucked.

Is that what happens?

Their interrogations

are not to be dramatized.

Of course they"re interested

in you,

but they don"t need you

to accuse people.

Will they interrogate you

about me?

If they"ll ask me why you came

to Czechoslovakia,

I"ll tell them in plain terms.

Well, what will you say?

That you came here

for the 15-year-old girls.

"Read his book," I"ll tell them,

"and you"ll understand."

And don"t worry about Olga.

She"ll be all right.

She won"t be alone.

I will not be all right.

I will see you tomorrow

for lunch.

Come on.

Zuckerman,

marry me and take me away.

If you marry me,

they must let me go.

This is the law,

even they obey it.

You wouldn"t have to fuck me,

you could fuck

the American girls.

You wouldn"t have to love me

or even give me money.

And she would scrub your floors

and iron your beautiful shirts.

Yes, yes, yes, I would iron

your shirts all day long.

Yeah, that would be

the first week.

Then would begin the second week

and the excitement

of being Mr. Olga.

That isn"t true.

I would leave him alone.

And then would begin the vodka

and then would begin

the adventures.

Not in America, no.

Olga, in America,

you would shoot yourself.

- I would shoot myself here.

- Yeah?

- Yeah.

- With what?

A tank!

Tonight.

I will steal a Russian tank

and I will shoot myself

with it tonight.

- Fuck off.

- Should we be letting her walk?

No, no.

Olga always does what she wants.

She was married

to a promising writer,

but one day she found out

he was cheating on her

with a famous actress,

and in her fury,

she called the cops on him.

The problem is that Sisovsky

always carries

a note from a doctor saying

he"s a psychiatric case.

Wait, so the authorities

will leave him alone?

Well, he"s got so-called

legal confirmation

that he"s crazy in the head

so he wouldn"t have to do

his military service.

The police read the note

and take him

to the lunatic asylum,

and he was held there

for a long time

before he was released.

That"s Olga.

Vaculda and Havlicek

are coming at 10,

unless they"re in custody again.

I"m pretty sure

that guy over there

was watching us

outside the hotel.

Oh.

Secret police, probably.

Secret?

There is nothing secret

about it.

, this is Nathan Zuckerman.

- Vaclav.

- Hi.

- Vaclav.

- Great to meet you.

- And Ludvik.

- Pleasure to meet you.

- Nice to meet you.

- Come on, guys, let"s sit down.

Thank you.

It"s a pleasure

to finally meet you in person,

both of you.

Here, where the literary culture

is held hostage,

the art of narration

flourishes by mouth.

In Prague, stories

aren"t simply stories.

Storytelling is the form

their resistance has taken

against the coercion

of the powers-that-be.

So, I, uh, I have your contracts

from the publisher.

- You just need to sign it.

- No.

Don"t give it to me.

Put it on the bench, please.

So, Olga is studying

the Indian tribes right now.

That"s great,

I happen to be an expert

in Indian tribes myself.

I know them as well.

Right.

Let"s write them down.

We don"t want to say

a name twice.

Oh, yeah, yes, I have a pen.

Uh, here.

You start?

Yes, uh...

The Apache.

The Mohicans.

Ah.

The Apalachee.

The West Apalachee.

The East Apalachee.

No, those don"t exist.

There are only the west ones.

So, the, um, Comanche.

The Cherokee.

The Sioux.

Uh-huh.

The Huron people.

The Mohican people.

Zacatecas.

Ooh.

Good one.

Uh, the, uh...

the Hamentashen tribe.

Oh...

I don"t know that one.

Okay, yeah, no,

it"s a Jewish cookie.

It"s delicious, by the way.

Ludvik,

I think you also need

to go to the toilet.

You must listen

to this one, Nathan,

since you love stories so much.

Blecha was

my best childhood friend.

He was always planning to be

a famous poet, playwright.

One night, he got drunk

and admitted

he was spying on me,

but he was a terrible writer.

Even they told him.

When they read his reports,

they made no sense.

And that"s how it went.

Blecha gave me half of his pay

and everything was fine...

until they decided

that he was such a good spy

that they should promote him.

After a long time,

I met him again.

Hello?

This is your wife-to-be,

good morning.

I"m in the lobby,

I"m coming to your room.

No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no.

I"ll come down.

I said lunch, not breakfast.

Why are you scared for me

to visit you when I love you?

It"s not the best idea for you

to be in my room, you know that.

I"m coming up.

You"re gonna get yourself

into trouble.

Not me.

Prudence is not

your strong point.

This I have never heard.

Why do you say this?

Hmm.

You must understand

that I"m not marrying you

for your money.

I"m marrying you

because you tell me

you love me at first sight.

And because at first sight,

I love you.

You haven"t slept.

How can I sleep

when I"m thinking of our future?

Let"s go somewhere

for breakfast.

First...

tell me...

you love me.

I love you.

Is this why you marry me?

For love?

What other reason

could there be?

Sorry for my breath.

Tell me what you love most

about me.

Your sense of reality.

No, you must not love me

for my sense of reality.

You must love me for myself.

Tell me all the reasons

you love me.

Yeah, at breakfast.

No, no, no.

Now.

I cannot marry a man

who I"ve only just met

and risk my... happiness,

my life,

by making... the wrong choice.

I must be sure.

"You cannot trust Czech police

to understand anything.

Even in Czech, you must speak

clearly and slow and loud."

They are so stupid.

I love your wit.

My beauty.

- I love your beauty.

- My flesh.

I love your flesh.

You love when we make love.

Indescribably.

Clearly.

What means "indescribably,"

darling?

More than words can say.

It is much better fucking

than with American girls.

It"s the best.

Let"s go.

Breakfast!

Did you fuck anybody yet

in Czechoslovakia?

No, Olga, I haven"t,

though a few people here

may yet fuck me.

Do you know why they bug

these big hotels

and always above the bed?

Why?

They listen

to foreigners fucking.

They want to hear how women come

in different languages.

Zuckerman, teach me the words

that American girls say.

- Just a moment.

- Grazie.

Good morning, sir.

Excuse me.

Speak English.

I want him to understand.

I want him to hear

this insult in English.

- What"s going on?

- Tell him.

Tell him what you want.

Sir, the lady must show me

her identity card.

It is regulation.

Why is it a regulation?

Tell him.

Foreign guests must register

with a passport.

Czech citizen must show

an identity card

if they visit the room.

Except if the Czech

is a prostitute.

Then she doesn"t have to show

anything but money.

All right, here,

I am a prostitute.

Here.

Here are 50 kroner.

Leave us in peace.

What are you doing?

- Okay.

- Here.

Oh, here is a hundred.

I need an identity card

from madam, please.

You know very well who I am.

I must register your number

of identity card

in my ledger, madam.

Tell me, please,

why do you embarrass me

like that

in front

of my prospective husband?

Why do you try to make me

ashamed of my nationality

in front of the man I love?

Look at him,

look at how he dresses.

Look on his trousers.

He has buttons.

And not a little zipper

like you.

Why do you try to give

such a man second thoughts

about marrying a Czech woman?

I wish only to see

her identity card, sir.

I will return it immediately.

Olga, enough, enough.

Do you see him?

Now he"s disgusted.

Now he"s thinking,

"Where are the fine

old European manners?"

Madam, I will have to ask you

to remain here

while I report you for failing

to show your identity card.

Do that.

Do that.

And I will report you

for your breach of etiquette

toward a lady

in a civilized country.

We will see

which one they put in jail.

Calm down.

Show him the god damn card.

Go.

Call the police, please.

Call the authorities

this minute.

In the meantime, we are going

to have our breakfast.

Come my dear one, my darling.

Come.

- Sir?

- Yes?

There is message for you.

Thank you.

Right.

"Mr. Zuckerman,

I"m a Czech student

with a deep interest

in your writing.

I need to talk to you urgently.

Please leave word at the desk

when I can come.

Yours most respectfully,

Oldrich Hrobek."

No, I don"t like this table.

We will sit here.

I"m sorry, you can sit

over there by the window.

This table is reserved.

For breakfast?

That"s a fucking lie.

This honored guest

from abroad and I

have the right not to sit

where we do not like it.

Bon appétit.

Sorry.

So what now?

Olga, tell me,

what"s coming next.

I want eggs, poached eggs.

If I don"t eat, I will faint.

Tell me, what was wrong

with the first table?

Bugged.

Probably all are bugged.

Fuck it, I"m too weak.

Fuck the whole thing.

What happened to you last night?

Call the waiter, please.

I"m going to faint.

I"m feeling sick.

I"m going to the loo to be sick.

Mr. Zuckerman, please.

- Yeah?

- I have tried to reach you

just now in your room.

I am Oldrich Hrobek.

You have received my note?

Yes, just a minute ago.

You must not stay in Prague.

If you do not leave immediately,

the authorities will harm you.

What?

Who wants to harm me?

How do you...

How do you know that?

They are building a case.

I studied at Charles University.

They forbade me to write

my thesis about you.

They questioned my professor,

they questioned me.

Building what case?

I just... I just got here.

They told me

you are here for espionage.

What? For espionage?

You must leave today.

I"m an American citizen.

That doesn"t mean anything.

This is what the police

have told me.

Many, many arrests

are going to be made.

- Because of me?

- Including you.

Maybe they"re just

trying to scare you.

Mr. Zuckerman,

there is more.

If you go to the train station,

I"ll meet you in an hour.

It is at the top

on the main street,

just to the left.

Don"t trust anyone.

Are you sure about all this?

It"s an honor to meet you.

I"m sorry I interrupted,

but I am a silly fan.

Goodbye, sir.

What a country.

You cannot even throw up

in the loo

that someone does not write

a report about it.

Okay, I want

to have my breakfast now

with my international writer.

I"m hungry.

Why don"t we go somewhere else?

I want to talk to you

about something serious.

What will you have?

Poached eggs for two, coffee,

and a cigar for the gentleman.

Domestic or Cuban?

Cuban, of course.

Olga, I smoke a cigar

once every decade.

You must here.

I was in the wine bar last night

because you would not

be with me.

After some time,

two men come up to me

and start buying me drinks.

We drink and then they say,

"How would you like

to take a ride?"

Not to question me

but just to have a good time.

I thought, "Don" t be afraid.

Don"t show them

that you are afraid."

So I said,

"Let"s go, boys."

It slowly dawns on me

that something is wrong here.

They cannot even wait

for me to drink.

One of them takes out his prick

and tries to pull me down on it.

I feel him with my hand

and I say to him,

"But this is technically

impossible with this.

You could never come

with something so soft."

Ah... ah.

Huh?

Thank you.

Probably they got scared

they would be in for it.

If their little instruments

had worked,

it may have turned out badly.

Ah, you"re playing fire, Olga.

Light up.

Why am I smoking

so obediently at 8:30 a.m.?

I don"t feel like smoking

at all.

You must finish

the cigar, Zuckerman.

I will finish the cigar

if you give me the stories

that Sisovsk left behind.

I met your husband in New York.

He asked me to come get

the stories.

What?

What?

That swine.

Look, I didn"t want

to spring this on you

out of the blue, Olga,

but I have been advised

not the hang around

much longer in this country.

Wait, you, uh...

You met that monster

in New York?

Yes.

And his ingénue?

You have met her too?

Did she tell you

how much she suffers

from all the men at her feet?

Did he tell you with her

it"s never boring lovemaking

because she"s fragile

like a virgin?

So, this is why you are here.

Not for Kafka, but for him.

I"m taking those stories

to America.

So he can make money

out of his dead father.

So he can buy jewelry for her.

Now in New York too.

He left us all for that whore.

What"s she doing in New York?

Still playing

Nina in The Seagull?

- I wouldn"t think so.

- Why not?

Our leading Czech actress

who ages but never grows up.

Poor little star,

always in tears.

How much did he flatter you

to make you fall for it?

So that"s why you're here.

Because you took pity

on two homeless Czechs.

Take pity on me.

I am at home and it is worse.

I see that.

And you believe

all those stories he tells?

I did.

Only people like you

can believe them.

Let me have those manuscripts.

What good do they do

anybody here?

Olga...

The good of not being there

doing good for him

and this terrible actress.

You cannot even hear her

if you sit 10 rows back.

You can never hear her.

She"s stinking actress

who has ruined Chekhov

for Prague

for last hundred years.

For all her stinkin"

sensitive poses.

And now she will ruin Chekhov

for New York.

So... he wants to live off

of his dead father?

The hell with him.

Let him live off of his actress,

if anybody can even hear her.

Olga!

Olga!

Bolotka told me

half a million people

have been fired from their jobs.

I imagine Styron washing glasses

in a Penn Station barroom.

Susan Sontag wrapping buns

at a Broadway bakery.

I look at the filthy floor

and I see myself sweeping it.

I"m sorry I'm late, Rudolf.

Something happened.

I was followed.

I... I shook him

before I got here.

I hope I wasn"t wrong

to come here anyway.

What happened?

A student came to visit me

at the hotel.

He gave me this note.

He was terrified,

he was whispering

that I was in danger,

that he and his professor

were questioned by the police.

And he asked me to meet him.

It occurred to me

that he might also be a cop,

but then I saw him

getting arrested

at the train station.

They were only frightening him

and his teacher.

If so, they succeeded

and they scared

the shit out of me too.

This is to calm down

and warm up.

It"s the law of power,

the spreading

of general distrust.

The basic techniques

of adjusting people.

But they cannot touch you.

Well, if you"re right,

then by coming to my hotel

the student made things

much worse for himself

and for his teacher too.

I can"t say.

Both options could be true.

He could be a provocateur

and his arrest

maybe just play acting for you.

Or he can be a naive student.

Jesus Christ.

Mm!

Don"t be tender

about his martyr complex.

They have to let

the boy go anyway.

You know, of course

the hotel clerk is a cop.

Everyone is in that hotel.

But the police

are like literary critics.

The little they see

they get mostly wrong.

And our literary criticism

is police criticism.

So, what...

So we"re not gonna do anything

about this warning?

I"m relying on you.

Rudolf,

when you come to New York,

I"ll see that you're

not mugged in Central Park

by going to take a leak

at 3:00 a.m.

I expect the same consideration

from you here.

I mean, am I in danger?

Forget the student, Nathan.

Anything you want

to see in Prague,

anything you want to do

in Prague,

anyone you want to fuck

in Prague,

you come to me

and I"ll arrange it.

You know, I hesitate

to say Prague is gay,

but sometimes these days

could be pretty amusing.

Do you think you can find out

where I can see Olga tonight?

Okay.

Hello, Olga.

This is my almost fiancé,

but he can only write about sex.

He is an American agent

with no license to fuck.

Olga, can I...

Can I ask you to dance?

I mean, if your friends

don"t mind.

If you keep shouting

that I"m an agent,

I"m gonna wake up

in jail tomorrow.

If you don"t want

to wake up with me,

then you wake up in a jail.

Okay, let"s both stop

playing games, okay?

Why do you care

about those stories so much?

Because I"m a foolish American.

I don"t even know

if the stories are any good.

So?

So maybe I just want

to save something

from the Old World.

I see.

You want to be a hero.

No, I really don"t.

So you want to succeed?

Yes, yes, of course I do.

Succeed then.

Wait, wait.

Olga, wait.

Listen.

All right, maybe there is

something more to it, okay?

Maybe I...

Maybe I feel like I have a debt.

You have a weak spot

for the persecuted.

Yes, I do.

So you have a hang-up

that you haven"t

suffered enough.

I"m not the one to nurse you

through your hang-ups.

All right.

Prague fascinated me.

After one day,

it seemed to me a city

that I"d known all my life.

This is the city I imagined

during the war"s worst years,

when as a nine-year-old

Hebrew school student

I would solicit

for the Jewish National Fund.

This is the city I imagined

the Jews should acquire one day.

A city with

soot-blackened bridges,

shadowy, cramped streets,

where one would hear

endless stories being told.

Funny tales and anxious stories

of suffering and flight.

Stories of fantastic endurance

and of pitiful collapse.

I thought you would show up.

Come in.

Take off your coat.

It"s robe day today.

Do you want to join?

Uh, thank you but no.

Uh, I came to see you.

Come in.

You"re afraid to marry

an alcoholic.

I would love you so much

I wouldn"t drink.

And you"d give me

the stories as your dowry.

Maybe.

Where are the stories?

Oh, I don"t know.

Sisovsk left them with you.

And when his mother came

to try to get them,

you showed her photographs

of his mistresses.

Oh, poor mother.

She didn"t like them very much.

They were pictures

of their cunts.

Hm.

Do you think they were

so different from mine?

Do you think theirs

were prettier?

Look.

Theirs were exactly the same.

You have the stories here.

Let"s go to the American Embassy

and get married.

And then you"ll give me

the stories.

More than likely.

Mm, I want them now.

I"m asking you again.

What are you getting out of it?

A headache and a look

under your robe.

So you"re doing it

for idealistic reasons.

You do it for literature.

For altruism.

You are a great American,

great humanitarian.

I"ll give you $10,000.

Hm.

I could use $10,000.

Mm-hm.

But there is no amount of money

you could give me.

And you don"t care

about literature.

I love literature,

but not as much as I love

to keep these things

from Sisovsk.

Do you really think

that I"m going to give you

the stories

so he can keep her in jewels?

You really think

that in New York

he"s gonna publish the stories

under his father"s name?

- Why shouldn"t he?

- Zuckerman.

If you would make as great

a sacrifice for literature

as you expect of me,

we would be married

20 minutes already.

Okay.

$15,000.

Oh, do you find me

so unattractive?

Wow.

You are an impressive

character, Olga.

In your own way,

you are fighting to live.

Look, dear one.

You want a ticket

out of Czechoslovakia.

Mm.

Maybe I want you, dear one.

What if I get someone

to marry you?

Am I so terrible

that I can only marry

one of your queer friends?

Fuck.

How do I wrest

these stories from you?

Olga, just... just tell me.

Is whatever Sisovsk did

so terrible

that his dead father

must suffer too?

Oh, believe me.

When the stories are published

without his name,

the father will suffer more.

Okay, suppose

that doesn"t happen.

Suppose I make that impossible.

You will outtrick Zdenek?

I will contact

The New York Times

and I will tell them

the whole story.

So that"s what

you get out of it.

That"s your idealism.

That marvelous Zuckerman

brings from behind

the Iron Curtain

200 unpublished Yiddish stories

written by a victim

of a Nazi bullet.

You will be a hero

to all of the free world.

On top of your

millions of dollars

and millions of girls,

you will win the American Prize

for Idealism about Literature.

And what will happen to me?

You don"t know.

I"ll tell you.

I will go to prison

for smuggling a manuscript

to the West.

They won"t know that the stories

came through you.

You get the idealism prize.

He gets the royalties.

She gets the jewelry.

And I get seven years

for the fuckin" sake

of literature.

You don"t have to give me money.

You don"t have to find a queer

to be my husband.

You don"t even have to fuck me

if I am such a revolting woman.

To fuck and to be fucked

is the only freedom

left in this country.

He can even print the story

in his own name,

your friend Sisovsk.

No.

I will never let that happen.

The hell with him,

the hell with everything.

He will flourish,

thanks to his dead father.

So will she.

And in return, I want nothing.

Only that when he asks,

"How much

did you have to give her?

How much money

and how many fucks?"

Tell him the truth.

Room 26, please.

Mr. Zuckerman.

26.

- Here you go.

- Thank you.

- Take care.

- Sir?

Hello, sir?

Sir?

Your coat.

What?

Oh, thank you.

- Goodbye.

- Bye.

Hey!

Hey, what is going on?

You can"t just unlock

the door yourself.

The gentlemen wish to examine

your belongings, sir.

Why?

They say somebody

has mislaid something

that you may have by mistake.

Gentlemen, my belongings

are none of your business.

I am afraid you are wrong.

That is precisely

their business.

And you, what"s your business?

I merely work

at the reception desk.

It is not just intellectuals

who can be sent to the mines.

I demand to call

the U.S. Embassy.

You"d better

pack your bags, sir.

You will be driven

to the airport.

And put on the next flight

from Prague.

You are no longer welcome

in Czechoslovakia.

I want to speak

to the American Ambassador.

You can"t confiscate

my belongings

and there are no grounds

to expel me.

Sir.

These two gentlemen

have no trouble believing

that what they do

is right and necessary.

Brutally necessary.

I"m afraid

that any sort of delay

will cause them

to be much less lenient

than you would like.

Look.

That box contains stories

written by somebody

who"s been dead

for over 30 years.

It"s fiction from a world

that no longer even exists.

It is no possible threat

to anyone.

There is nothing a clerk

in a Prague hotel

can do for any writer,

living or dead.

Okay, for the third time,

I demand to speak

to the Embassy.

Sir, if you don"t

immediately pack your bags

and prepare to leave,

you will be taken to jail.

Well, how do I know you won"t

just take me to jail anyway?

I suppose you will have

to trust the gentlemen.

Ah, Mr. Zuckerman.

Will you be paying

by cash or check?

By check.

I trust everything was all right

and that your stay with us

was satisfactory.

Are you fucking kidding me?

Jesus.

Hey, hey, that is not necessary.

Hey.

What are you doing?

Hello, my suitcase?

Are you gonna put my bags

in the car, please?

Novak, Hiyam Novak.

Do you know Betty MacDonald?

Um, I... I don"t.

You don"t?

No.

You don"t know

Miss Betty MacDonald?

Well, now I"m guilty

of conspiring

against the Czech people

with somebody

named Betty MacDonald.

I"m sorry, I don't...

I don"t know her.

But she"s the author

of The Egg and I.

Ah.

Yes, uh, about, uh,

a farm, wasn"t it?

Yeah.

I haven"t read that

since I was a school boy.

But it is a masterpiece.

Ah.

Well, I can"t say

it"s considered

a masterpiece in America.

I"d be surprised

if anybody in America under 30

has even heard of The Egg and I.

I cannot believe it.

Well, it"s true.

It"s, uh...

Is this the way to the airport?

There is no paranoia here

about writers.

I didn"t say that there was.

I am a writer.

A successful writer.

Nobody is paranoid about me.

Ours is the most literate

country in Europe.

Our writers are loved.

The country looks to them

for moral leadership.

I am the Minister of Culture.

Well, it"s very kind of you,

Mr. Minister,

to see me out personally,

but, um...

This is the road to the airport?

Frankly, I don"t recognize...

You should have taken

the time to come see me

when you first arrived.

We would understand

that the ordinary Czech citizen

is nothing like

the sort of people

you have chosen to meet.

He does not behave like them

and he does not admire them.

Who are they?

Sexual perverts.

Alienated neurotics.

Bitter egomaniacs.

They seem to you courageous?

You find it thrilling,

the price they pay

for their great art?

At least their blessed Kafka

knew he was a misfit.

But these people,

incorrigible deviants.

Do you know what?

Comrade Brezhnev arranged

for our great reform leader

Dubcek in "68.

Brezhnev sent thousands

of troops to Prague

to bring Dubcek

back to his senses.

Get out.

What?

Hey!

Hey, get your hands off.

Wait, wait, wait.

I have committed no crime.

You have committed

several crimes,

each punishable by sentences

of up to 20 years in jail.

I... I demand right now

that you take me

to the American Embassy.

Let me tell you what

Brezhnev told Mr. Dubcek

that Mr. Bolotka

neglected to say

while elucidating on the size

of his sexual organ.

One, he would deport

our Czechoslovakian

intelligentsia

en masse to Siberia.

Two, he would turn

Czechoslovakia

into a Soviet republic.

Three, he would make Russian

the official language

in schools.

In 20 years,

nobody would even remember

that such a country

as Czechoslovakia

had ever existed.

Those Czechs

who inflamed the anger

of our mighty neighbor

are not patriots,

they are the enemy!

There is nothing praiseworthy

about them.

Like when your lesbian whore

opened her legs,

and for an American writer

it represents

the authentic Czech experience.

Real heroes distinguish between

what is possible

in a little country

and what is just a stupid,

maniacal delusion.

The true Czech spirit

is represented

in people who know

how to submit decently

to their historical misfortune.

These are the people

to whom we owe

the survival

of our beloved land.

Not to alienated, degenerate,

egomaniacal artists.

Suddenly, you are scared,

Mr. Zuckerman.

Aren"t you?

Let"s go.

Whoa-whoa.

Whoa. Whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa.

Whoa-whoa-whoa, hey, hey, hey.

Come on.

Let... let go of me!

Let me go!

You have been placed

on Swissair to Geneva.

And from there to New York.

A keepsake.

In case you"re bored

on your flight.

I was not arrested.

I will not be tried,

convicted, or jailed.

Yet it makes you furious

to be thrown out

once the fear

has begun to subside.

I wanted to see Kafka"s city,

and by coincidence

I found something

more important.

I can"t stop thinking

about this country

where there"s no nonsense

about purity and goodness,

where the division between

the heroic and the perverse

is not that easy to discern.

Where every sort of repression

ferments a parody of freedom

and the suffering

of their historical misfortune

engenders in its victims

these bizarre forms

of human despair.

I don"t know

if my theatrical friend Olga

changed her mind

and called the cops

or if they called for her.

Worst of all, I"ve lost that

astonishingly real candy box

stuffed with stories.

Another Jewish writer

who might have been

is not going to be.

Another assault upon

a world of significance,

degenerating into

a personal fiasco.

And this time,

in a record 48 hours.

Hi, I"m looking for Eva.

Eva?

She is over there.

Thank you.

Excuse me,

Mr. Writer.

Hello, Eva.

I tried calling Sisovsk,

but he"s not answering

his phone.

Is he in New York?

I don"t know where he is.

You don"t know?

He"s taken the big American road

to success now.

Is he?

Well, he didn"t

tell me anything.

I"d really like to talk to him.

I"ve... I've just returned

from Prague.

Oh.

Now you are full of Prague.

Full of compassion.

I wasn"t successful.

You really went there

for those stories?

Mm-hm.

Zdenek begged everyone for that,

but you are the only one

who obliged.

You are naive.

So where is he?

In California.

In Hollywood.

Huh.

Where can I find him there?

I don"t know, all I know

is that he is gone.

And you stay here on your own.

It"s better this way.

Everybody has what they want.

Zdenek does, I do,

and so do you.

Really?

Do I?

What you have is much better

than Zdenek"s father's stories.

Now you have one of your own.

You have your own adventure

in Prague.

Tomorrow you will sit

at your beautiful desk,

you will start making notes,

and your powerful masterpiece

will soon appear

on the Best Seller list.

You have your great book

and I have my dresses.

Please excuse me,

I have customers.

Good luck with

your new marvelous story,

Mr. Zuckerman.

May I see the gentleman"s

papers, please?

Ah, yes, Nathan Zuckerman.

The Zionist agent.

An honor to have

entertained you here, sir.

Now back to the little world

around the corner, huh?

Making love, you"re in my mind

How soon will you be mine

Come to me, I"ll comfort you

Please be open tonight

Flesh and blood is what I give

You"ll find me unprepared

There is a bird of prey at night

Come lie with us in bed

River of Christ

I just take what must be mine

Surrender to our free fall

We will fly

Fly

River of Christ

What you see is not your fault

Not your fault

May this be our last song

when we fall

Night alone is not to be

I"ll take your beating heart

Change it into what will become

My fear, my flesh and blood

I"ll take

the bird of prey tonight

And show it how to fly

River of Christ

I"ll just take what must be mine

Surrender to our free fall

We will fly

River of Christ

What you see is not your fault

Not your fault

May this be our last song

when we fall