The Third Generation (1979) - full transcript

A mogul merrily funds terrorists to boost his computer sales, by panicking West German government and industry c. 1980, as the third generation of Western European left-wing activists forms...


A comedy about parlour games in six parts,

full of suspense, excitement and logic,
cruelty and madness,

just like the fairy tales we tell children

to help them prepare for death
through the changes of life

Mr Lurz's office.

This is Susanne Gast. Who? Houston, Texas?

Oh, it's you, Mr Curtis.
This is Susanne Gast. I'm fine, and you?

Mr Lurz isn't back yet.
All the flights into Berlin are running late.

All right, Mr Curtis, I'll tell him.

dedicated to a true lover like no other - perhaps?

''In retrospect, I would like to thank
the legal experts of Germany

''for not challenging
the constitutional legality of everything.

''(I refer to the operation in Mogadishu,
and maybe other things related to Mogadishu?)''

Helmut Schmidt,
fifth Chancellor of West Germany,

to the newsmagazine Der Spiegel

I. ''You always pull the short straw.''

Written above the second urinal from the left,

pissoir at the corner of Kudamm
and Schl?ter, West Berlin

- Hi.
- Hello, Mr Lurz. Thank God.

I was worried about you.

It was unbelievable.
There was an hour-long delay leaving.

They're becoming more outrageous all the time.

- Well, were you successful at least?
- No.

By the way, Mr Curtis called from Houston, Texas.
He wants you to call back immediately.

Well, then connect me right away.

Mr Lurz's office. I need a line to Houston, Texas.
Mr Curtis. You have the number. Thanks.

- Did you record everything I asked you to?
- As always, every last thing.

That was a rhetorical question, really.

I know I couldn't do my job without you.

Really? Thank you very much.

You don't always have to thank me, Susanne.
You've basically devoted your whole life to me.

Well, so long as the movies are sad,
our lives can stay funny.

Are you sure about that?

- Mr Lurz's office.
- Curtis?

No, it's for me. I won't be long.

Make it quick.
We're expecting a call from the States.


''The world as will and representation.''
I understand.

The world as will and representation.

The world as will and representation.

Have you ever heard that before, Sascha?
''The world as will and representation''?

Here you go.

Hello, Curtis. How are you?

No, the people in Bonn
don't think it's a good idea right now.

There's been a lot of negative press
about data processing lately.

A real media campaign, you know?

Anyway, Bonn doesn't want to order
any new computers right now.

Plus, there haven't been
any terrorist attacks in Germany for a while,

so there's no real argument for sales.

The situation isn't as favourable
as it has been in recent years,

which means I can't make
much of an argument for it.

Yeah, you're right about that.

There's only one thing I can tell you for sure.

You can't sell computers
in this country right now.

Not a single one. Believe me.

But that's going to change.

Believe me, it will change. Trust me.

Of course. Thank you.

Yes, I'm done.

This is Susanne. I don't have much time.

Just listen.
The world as will and representation, okay?

''The world as will and representation.''
Does that sound familiar to you, Granddad?

- That's Schopenhauer.
- What?

The World As Will and Representation.

It's philosophy, you know?

But, in my day,
we used to read more positive works.

Hegel, Kant or Nietzsche.

And what's so negative about this one?

That's simple. Schopenhauer says,

''The existence of a human being
is worth no more than that of a rock.''

And that's ridiculous.

That's nonsense. Worth no more than a rock!


That's philosophy for people
who don't know what to do with their lives.

They need another war.

Then they'll realise that their lives
are more worth more than a rock.

So, gentlemen, 1848.

Can someone tell me
the causes of the revolution of 1848?

A desire to follow the French ideal,
the liberal demand for a written constitution,

for example,
freedom of the press and a parliament.

Very good. Your turn.

- There was also a desire for national unity.
- Exactly.

Stop singing, Mother.

People nowadays really don't know
the meaning of life.

Things used to be different.

That's why everyone should experience war
in their lifetime,

otherwise humanity's most important values
fall to pieces.

And plus, people don't know
the thrill of the years between two wars,

or of a war itself.

They get crazy ideas
or they become lethargic and cowardly.

Excellent. Now explain to me the importance
of the Frankfurt Parliament of May 1848

in relation to the events that followed.

It was politically ineffective

because the Professors' Parliament
supported the monarchy.

So it was impossible to create a republic because
the bourgeoisie didn't dare depose their rulers.

And why would they?
The bourgeoisie now had all the political power,

and they needed to defend it, along with
the monarchs, from the radical underclass.

Typical. First they want a big revolution,

then they get scared because
their own conservative values are threatened.

And, in your opinion,
what are the typical values of the bourgeoisie?

Securing their established rights, law and order,
faith in authority, reliability and ambition.

And isn't it true that this attitude
led directly to the Third Reich?

You're getting off-subject.
We're not talking about the Third Reich.

Because this attitude is still prevalent
in today's liberal-conservative society?

Isn't it still important today
to uphold liberal-conservative values at any cost,

even if these same values lead
to the rise of a fascist regime?

I just said that that's beside the point.

Besides, you can't explain
the whole thing that simply.

Is that what you're supposed to teach us,
or is it your personal opinion?

I'm supposed to teach you
objective historical facts,

and my personal opinion doesn't matter.
Is that clear?

Excuse me for a moment, please.

What are you doing here, my darling?
Is it because...

The world as will and representation.

We've got everything together.
You have to give it to Rudolf, alone.

You're not coming with me?

Hans will need his dinner when he gets home.

- My darling...
- It'll be all right. Goodbye.

The world as will and representation.

- Hello, Hilde.
- We have all the papers.

The world as will and representation.

The world as will and representation.
I understand.

August will pick them up.

- Well?
- What do you mean, ''Well''?

''Well'' means ''well''.

And the question is,
what kind of role are you playing, Mr Mann?

- I don't understand, sir.
- Are you the cop or the robber?

- Hi.
- Hello, Rudolf.


- So?
- Everything's fine.

The world as will and representation.
Check it. The papers should all be there.


Strange. I saw a Russian movie this summer.

There was a shot that looked just like
the view from up here.

- Solaris.
- Excuse me?

That's the name of the movie. Solaris.

Maybe. I forget its title. Solaris?

- I only remember that one shot.
- It's too bad that that's all you remember.

- It was a pretty weird movie.
- Weird?

Solaris is one of the best movies I've ever seen.

Really? Why do you say that?

Movies consist of 25 lies a second,

and because everything is a lie,
it's also the truth.

And the fact that the truth is a lie...

That becomes clear with every movie you watch.

But in movies, ideas mask the lies
and suggest that they are truth.

That's the only real utopia for me,
small though it may be.

- Cheers.
- Cheers.

It's strange.
That kind of thinking doesn't seem to suit you.

Why? What do you think suits people?

When you look in the mirror,
what do you think suits you?

When a policeman looks in the mirror,
what does he see?

Not much.

When is this Paul getting here?

Should be in a few days, but it's hard to tell
with colleagues straight from training camp.

Have you ever been to one of those camps?

Once, yes, before I was a wanted man.
That was a long time ago.

I still need to listen to the most popular records.

You have to get rid of this girl.
She's jeopardising the whole operation.

Everyone knows that addicts
are watched constantly.

But she has no one else to go to.

All the same, she has to go.
She's jeopardising everything.

I disagree.
Who would assume that anything was going on

- with someone like her living here?
- That's not a good enough reason, Rudolf.

We have no choice but to get rid of her.

- She'll probably leave soon enough anyway.
- I hope you're right.

I'll be in touch. See you later.

- Cheers.
- Cheers, Susanne.


- How do you like your bodyguards?
- I can't complain.

I even played chess with one of them
the other day.

But, of course, your life changes dramatically

when you're followed at every turn.

We're supposed to be watching you, Mr Lurz.
You're under police protection.

Yes, of course.
But whatever you call it, the effect is the same.

Your police protection was requested
by the business community.

Complain to your colleagues. I'm the wrong guy.

You don't have much
of a sense of humour, do you?

On the contrary. The other day I had a dream

where capitalists created terrorism

in order to force the state to better protect
the business community. That's funny, isn't it?

I'm almost done.

Yeah, okay.

Isn't she a beautiful woman?

Yes, a very beautiful woman.
Are you in love with her?

Of course. And you?

She's my daughter-in-law.

We have to go. Come on, Susanne.

When I look in a decorated mirror at my sex,

which is red from the wind and from walking,

I'd like to give myself to the first man I meet
in the name of true love.

But the love of the Knight of the Trepan
belongs to him alone,

this mountain of unlimited satisfaction.

He gets me to spread my legs

and the desire in his ecstasy tells me,

''You are the daughter of joy

''who I redeemed so that you could refresh and
burn yourself on your way to a life of suffering.

''I beseech you, creature of my father,

''spread your legs and lick your sex. ''

I lick my sex...

Well, they're not here, either.

You always take your papers with you
to the bank.

- Why would you forget them today?
- That's what I can't understand.

And I noticed it this morning, right away.

Please think about it one more time.
Maybe something will come back to you.

That sounds like you're accusing me
of taking them.

Where would you get that idea?

This feels like a police interrogation.

What do you know about police interrogations?

- Don't touch me.
- Why not?

First you accuse me and then...

I'm not accusing you of anything. Come on, now.

- What's wrong?
- Let me go.

Help! Let me go!

I don't get it.

This has been going on for quite a while,
your lack of interest.

But you used to enjoy it, didn't you?

What do you know?

You have no idea.

- You were just imagining things.
- Okay.

Let's not argue any more.

Is dinner ready?

You're always making demands. Always, always.

- Please...
- Don't touch me.

If only I could understand your feelings.

Come on. Say that I only want you
because you're married to my son.

And say that you hate me for it,
and yourself as well.

You only want me
because I'm married to your son.

And I do hate you.

But in the end, that's not important.

It's more important that I hate myself.

''Hate'' isn't strong enough. I loathe myself.

''Loathe yourself.'' This gets better every time.

''Loathe.'' That's a good one.
That's really good. Self-loathing.

It's not funny. It's not funny at all.
Far from it, Gerhard.

I do loathe myself, and it hurts to loathe oneself.

I can't stand this! You're really outdoing yourself.

You're in top form, baby. That's a real classic.

You're a classic piece of work.

You're a pig.

Yeah, I'm a pig
and you'll never sleep with me again.

Yes. Today was the last time.

I see how he gives himself up with relish
on the sheets in the locked room.

I see how he tucks his hands under his armpits
and longs to be slapped.

I see him pawing
like a dog trying to bury its vomit.

As if I am finally grown up,
the image doesn't give me any pleasure.

You're dressed
like we're in a snowstorm in Russia.

Then why don't you undo my buttons?

You could do something for a change.

Come here.

Like I always say, in the end
you need the things that used to sicken you.

I summon my Lucille for help.
Oh, she is full of foreboding.

I kiss her between the eyes
on the spot where her skin droops

and even appears to be sagging.

Lord have mercy upon this woman,
who starts screaming because of the beating.

Lord have mercy upon this weak sex
and this doomed throat,

and upon this smile, which shall be my demise,

and upon these soft arms which I use as a pillow
to fall asleep like a happy child.

Lord have mercy upon this woman
with the silky hair above her temples

who is dreaming of innocence.

Lord have mercy and take pity on our souls.

Come on.


- I picked Susanne up from work.
- Thank you, Father.

- Was he a good boy?
- He was a good boy, as always.

- But now he needs to go straight to bed.
- Come on, Sascha, let's go to bed.

Come here, my dear. Let's have dinner.

So, all of you made it home in time.

Susanne, is our little darling in bed?
Come down here, please.

- Did you call me?
- Dinner's ready.

- Did you do the cooking?
- No, Granddad did.

- You did, Dad?
- Well, I hope you'll enjoy it nevertheless.

Why wouldn't I enjoy it if you made it?

It doesn't matter. Just a thought.

Well, enjoy your meal, Father.

Enjoy your meal. You, too, Father.

Thank you. Thank you. Please, try the soup.

- Did you have time to compose today?
- A little bit. And you?

Did you catch anyone today?
Maybe you shot someone who was on the run?

Edgar, don't do this. Eat.

II. ''Have a big dick. Up for anything.
No S&M. Tel. 8221705. Hurry. Very horny.''

Written in felt-tip pen on November 2, 1978,

in the middle stall of the public restrooms
at the Volkspark, West Berlin

The world as will and representation.

The world as will and representation.

I think you've mistaken me for someone else.

No. You expected Adelheid, but Adelheid is dead.

- May I join you?
- Please.

All the other members of the group
are either dead or in prison.

By the way, I'm August.

- Paul.
- I know.

I joined the group right after you left for Africa.

But since it's been dispersed,
I'm trying to establish a new cell.

May I have a sip of your Irish coffee?

- Help yourself.
- Thanks.

I hope you'll support me.

- It's good, isn't it?
- Yes, it is.

By the way, how was your stay in Africa?

Depends what you mean.
I was certainly successful.

- Really?
- I can aim at anything and hit the target.

We could use a good shooter.
Besides me, no one knows how to shoot.

- Any trouble at the border?
- I was a bit nervous at first.

They inspected my papers so closely
that I thought they had me for sure.

- I understand.
- But, as you can see, I'm here now.

Yes. I have the new ID cards with me.

The world as will and representation.

If you like, Paul, you can come with me now
and get to know some of the others.

Why not?

To be honest, I think it's embarrassing
that we have to watch this poor girl all the time.

You don't have to watch her.

- Well, she's here, isn't she?
- Why does she have to use needles?

I've hated needles ever since I was a kid.

You don't have to look at her.

- Anyway, if she can get it here so easily...
- Exactly.

Besides, it's indecent.

At least I think it is.

Come on, Petra. Let's find Hilde.

You don't always have to do it out in the open.

I think Rudolf has some incomprehensible
and possibly dangerous urge to do good.

Just like the Catholic saints.

- Is Rudolf a Catholic?
- He must be. I can't explain it any other way.

My God. Look at the mess in her room.

How can anyone lose control like that, to stop
caring about themselves and their living space?

- Yeah, it's disgusting.
- Lord knows.

Lord knows I'd like to go
to one of those guerrilla training camps.

Wouldn't you?

Well, Rudolf, it's meant to be
very demanding and uncomfortable.

Yeah, I know, but on the other hand,
if you think about it,

it's one of the last great adventures
for humanity.

Or don't you agree?

Sure, but such a rigid exercise
sounds a little scary to me.

You know, Edgar,

I think that anything really big
can only be created through law and order.

Don't you agree?

I got bored, you know.
I was raised to work from an early age.

So I really enjoyed the first years of my marriage,
when I didn't have to do anything.

But after a while...

- In the end, my upbringing was stronger.
- That's life.

You must go see the new play at the Schaub?hne.

I'm sure you've heard of it.
Big and Little.; Scenes, by Botho Strauss.

Oh, yes.

He describes the life of a woman so sensitively.

And you know the Schaub?hne.
It's excellent. Perfect staging.

Every little detail in its place.

Oh, Hilde, you have a new blouse.
My God, it's chic.

And you can tell it was expensive.

Well, you know,
simple things are often the most expensive.

No, not this one. It wasn't expensive at all.

You won't believe it, but I got it for 12.50 marks.

- 12.50 marks?
- It's true.

- Unbelievable.
- 12.50 marks.

- Honestly.
- 12.50 marks?

No one would believe that.
How ingenious of you, darling.

That must be the mysterious Paul.

- This is Paul.
- Hello. Rudolf.

- Edgar. Nice to meet you.
- Hello.

- Did you have a good trip?
- Yeah, it was great.

- Do you want something to drink?
- No, thank you.

- Who's this?
- This is he.

You can't possibly imagine
how excited we are to meet you.

- Hi.
- Hello.


Oh, I forgot. Paul needs a place to stay.
It's too dangerous here, with the addict.

I was thinking of your place, Hilde.

Maybe he can stay with you for a few days.
It's the safest option.

Of course, if it's necessary.

- This is my Reich.
- With no Volk and no F?hrer?

Oh, no, no F?hrer. Not today, not tomorrow.

And not in the future.

Why? Are you a lesbian?

That question is primitive.

No, I'm not a lesbian.
Your bed will be ready shortly.

Oh, you have this game with the balls, too.

Of course. We all do.
It's sort of our code, you know?

Just like the video equipment.

Yes, just like the video equipment.

Your Reich is quite nice.

But then,
these flats are the best thing about Berlin.

Are you hungry?

No, thank you.

I rarely eat.

- I gave it up in Africa.
- I'm almost done with your bed.

About the bed...

I don't want to sleep out here on the couch.

Well, you can sleep in here, then.
Whatever you prefer.

I'll take the couch.

I didn't say that.
I'd like to sleep with you right here.

- With you, in your bed.
- But...

- But what?
- I'm used to deciding who sleeps with me.

So what? I do the same.
I make my own decisions, too.

Or should I jerk off instead?

No way. I had enough of that in Africa.

Besides, it's more convenient
for both of us, isn't it?

I'm sure it's easy or convenient for you.

But for me,
it means that I didn't make my own decision.

Come on. This is middle-class bullshit.

- Stop it.
- Come here.

I said stop.

I always get what I want. Now, come on!

Scream. Go ahead. Scream, scream, scream!

- Help! Help!
- Yeah, scream as much as you like.

Just wait and see, you'll like it.
Just wait and see. You'll like it. Yeah!

- Oh, God. Boardwalk.
- Are you going to buy it?

Don't tease us.

All right, I'll take the risk. I'll buy it.

Okay. Boardwalk to August for 8,000.

We'll know soon enough.

I hope so. I have to go soon.

Don't bother. I'll get it.

- Are you expecting someone?
- No, not really.

- It's two men looking for Miss Hoffmann.
- What?

There you go. Shit.
I warned you right from the beginning.

- Police?
- Who else could they be?

No, they don't look like cops.

There's a black guy
and one with rather innocent eyes.

- What now?
- Let them in.

We have no choice, especially if they are cops.
Come on.

- You heard him. Let them in.
- I'm going.

Come in, please.

- Thank you.
- Thank you.

- Hello. Are you Mr Mann?
- Yes. Hello.

My name is Walsch, Franz Walsch.

This is my friend Bernhard.
He is of noble descent.

His name is von Stein. Bernhard von Stein.


Oh, right. He wants to know why we're here.

- Something like that.
- Well, that's a long...

- That's a very long story.
- Yes, it is.

But we can make it short.

- We were just released from the service.
- From the Navy to be exact.

- Right.
- And we got your address from Ilse's father.

Because his wife died.

- Cancer. It was cancer, wasn't it?
- Yes, cancer.

And Ilse... How should I say this?
Ilse was some kind of girl.

I couldn't get her out of my mind.

And that's why we're here.
Let's check it out. Life and all that.

- You know what I mean?
- Kind of.

Well, po-tay-to, po-tah-to.

- Right?
- Absolutely right.

So, is she here? Ilse?

- Yes, she's here, but I think she's asleep.
- That's okay.

Believe me, she was always happy to see me.
Every time. Really.

Well, okay. Come on in.

- You have a nice big flat.
- Yeah, you only find these in Berlin.

Yes, only in Berlin.

And Ilse? I mean...

Oh, I see what you mean.
There's nothing going on between us.

It's just that I have this nice big flat
and Ilse's all alone. That's all.

That's all. I told you so, Bernhard. I told you
there was nothing going on. You and your ideas.

- I didn't say anything.
- But you were thinking it.

I know what I know.

- There she is. See, Bernhard, she's asleep.
- I can see that.

Ilse, wake up. It's me, your little bear.

That's what she always called me,
''My little bear.''

- Ilse, can you hear me? Ilse?
- What's going on?

- Once she's asleep...
- Damn it.

- You have a visitor. There.
- Ilse.

It's me, your little black bear.

- Franz. How did you get here?
- In Bernhard's dad's car. This is Bernhard.

- Hello.
- We were released from service.

- Are they cool?
- Yeah, it's fine. He's an old friend.

It's okay. They're old friends.
You can let those two back in.

You can come out.
They're old friends of Ilse's. They're not cops.

Man, you got lucky.

But I won't say it again, Rudolf.
The girl jeopardises the whole group.

- She has to go.
- Rudolf, come here, please.

Why? What's up?

These two have just been released from the Navy.
They have nowhere to go.

So I thought, ''We have plenty of room.''
Just for a few days?

Okay, that's fine with me.
For a few days, it's not a problem.

For you, the black guy,
I have a room back here, so you'll be close to her,

and there's a room in front for you.

I mean, it's very small, but for a few days...

- Thank you, Mr Mann.
- Really.

- Call me Rudolf.
- Thank you, Mr Rudolf.

I'll get our stuff
and send the driver back to the Taunus.

- Shall I...
- No, you stay here.

Have you gone mad?
Can you not do enough good deeds in a day?

You want to become a saint?

My God, it's just for a few days.
It won't do any harm.

Come on, let's keep playing.

Let's see what those soldiers carry around.

- Don't do that.
- Why not?

Once I'm interested in something,
I want to know for sure.



He's reading Bakunin, our little soldier.

And he underlines parts, just like my grandma.

''Up to a certain point, man can become
his own educator, his own instructor,

''as well as creator.''

That is my book and it was in my suitcase.
Put it back, please.

- And if I don't want to?
- Put the book in the suitcase, please.

- Give it to me. Give it to me.
- Rudolf, catch.

''But as we can see,
this gives him only relative independence...''

- Here, Rudolf.
- Give it to me, please.

''...and cannot help him elude
his fateful dependency...''

- Catch, August.
- Please, give it to me.

''...or the absolute solidarity
which connects him, as a living being...''

Please, give it to me.

'' the natural world that created him.'' Rudolf.

Give it back!

- ''In this world, he and every other being...''
- Please.

- Give it back.
- ''...after being touched by outside forces...''

''...will themselves become
a cause for new driving forces.''

Excuse me. That's my friend.

I don't like you picking on him.

- Is that clear?
- We were just kidding around.

- It's true.
- I have to go anyway. I'll be in touch.

I'll get it.

Mann household. Oh, Petra!

Of course, we'll come right away. I'll hurry.

Petra's having trouble with her husband.
She's at our flat, totally hysterical. Let's go, Paul.

- Why do we have to get involved?
- We owe it to her. We should help her.

- If you say so.
- Are you coming?

I'll be right there. You go ahead.

Come on, I'll show you to your room.

Thanks, Franz.

I don't know, Ilse.

There's something wrong with you.

Is she on something?

You have no idea how hard he hit me.

Of course, darling. I know how it is.

- Let's see.
- Here.

It hurts especially badly here. Can you see it?

Yes, but there's nothing much to see yet.

- Oh, it hurts!
- Paul.


- Didn't you hear how badly he treated her?
- I couldn't have missed it.

Then do something.

First I want to finish the movie.
Then I'll have a look at it.

I'll get it.

Why do you have so much contempt for women?

I don't have any more contempt for women
than they deserve.

You're a cynic.

And you're talking faster
than your brain can think.

- You're just like all the others.
- Of course. Men will be men.

- ...hopefully.
- Come in.

- Hi, Paul.
- Hello.

- Here she is.
- What happened this time?

He tried to kill me because of his stupid papers.

Here, look at it.

- Where? I can't see anything.
- There!

- You can't see it right now.
- Well, I don't see anything.

He beat me like a sleeping cat.

- Why a sleeping cat?
- Because I say so.

And he's no different, either.

I'd like to finish the movie.
That's more important to me.

- What's going on now?
- It's over for good. I'm not going home.

Never. Never, ever.

Here, can you see how hard he hit me.
There, look at it.

I can't see anything, Petra, really.

It doesn't matter. It's over. Over.
I'm never going back.

It's over. I'm not going back to him.

It's not a good time
for you to attract that much attention.

I think Paul's right. Don't you?

Probably. Let's put it to a vote.

So, who wants Petra to go back to her husband?

That's the majority.

There's a lady who wants to see you, Mr Lurz.
You've been briefed.

Rubbish. What lady?
I don't have an appointment with a lady.

Don't let anyone in here.
Can't I just play a quiet game of chess?

- Oh, it's you.
- Is this a bad time?

Susanne, would you excuse us, please?
This will take only a moment.

You, too, Franz. You can go home for the day.

- Are you crazy? Have you gone totally mad?
- What?

We explicitly agreed
that you would never visit me at my office.

Nonsense, Lurz.
No one will recognise me this way.

What do you think is going to happen to us?

Because of your little playacting,
everything is going to pieces.

Because of your ridiculous masquerade,
your stupid disguises!

The only thing jeopardising anything
is your screaming, Lurz.

Okay, why are you here?
What is this circus all about?

I'm rehearsing, that's all. And I need money.

It's always money. Every time, you need money.

Money! I want results. I need results, and fast.
Do you understand? Really fast.

I'll do what I can, honestly.

I thought about a little break-in
at a records office.

The idea of new passports always works.
And that's why I need money.

Well, you can have your money.

As I said, Mr Walsch, I can't offer you a job
as an aniline expert right now.

III. ''The cunt is no radio. It won't play a riff.

''It's just a playground
for limbs that go suddenly stiff.''

Old poem, rediscovered
in a men's room at the Volksb?hne,

December 26, 1978, West Berlin

The only job I have is as a labourer.
If you don't want it, I understand,

but then we'd have to talk again in about a week
about possible retraining.

Please sign here.

So, was there anything else, Mr Walsch?

- I thought I had the right to work.
- You do, you do.

It's just that, at the moment,
there's nothing I can do for you,

but, believe me, we'll take care of you.

But we have to adjust to the labour market.
And now you really must leave.

I don't understand.

I studied for three years.

That was all for nothing?

I just don't understand.

- I studied for three years.
- Next, please.

Baby. My darling. Still nothing?

I told you so.
It was the same for me in the beginning.

But I studied for three years.

Was all that really for nothing?

I have something for you.
It'll make you feel better.

- I met with Helio Kabal.
- And?

- There are some problems.
- What kind of problems?

We need new papers.
Something's going to happen.

What's going to happen?

I can't tell you the details,
but we need to get together as soon as possible.

- Okay. Do the others know?
- Some of them.

- Where?
- Preferably at your place or Hilde's.

All right.

I'll let you know for sure.
It could happen very soon, maybe tomorrow.

So I'll be in touch.

- I'm sorry.
- Well?

- Is it finally time?
- For what?

What could it be?
Have you finally found your dad?

- You're a bastard.
- That's nothing new.

One day, someone's going to hit you in the face
so hard that you'll choke.

Maybe so, but I'm sure it won't be you.

I just need to treat you right.

Then you won't need that stuff any more.

- What are you looking for?
- Money.

- I just want it.
- But...

Stealing, having. Stealing, having.

- Stealing, having! Stealing, having!
- But why do it behind my back?

Calm down.

If I had some, I'd give it to you.

You know that, don't you?

- No, no, no.
- Calm down.

- No, no, no.
- Stop it. Calm down!

- What's going on?
- I don't know.

- What happened?
- I don't know. She fell ill.

- A headache or something, I think.
- Come on, baby.

Stop crying. We can do this.

We can definitely do it.

IV. ''All Turks are pigs.
They stink and think about one thing only.''

''Turks, go home!''

You seem to be having trouble
thinking straight today.

''Germany for the Germans. Everybody else,
without exception, will be sent home.''

''Right! Send those pigs home!''

''Why send them home? Just gas them.

''Eradicate them. Gas them!
Eradicate and gas them!''

''But not the Jews!''
''You're all poor, pathetic fools.''

''Nazi pigs!''
''Dirty Communist!''

''And one day it will be your turn,
so help me God!''

Anonymous dialogue in parts
found on January 18, 1979,

in a men's room
in the Kaufhaus des Westens, West Berlin

- Hello, Mr Lurz.
- Finally.

- I'm sorry. I came as quickly as I could.
- Well, I was worried.

Oh, that's ridiculous. I'm not a child.

Okay, let's continue the match tomorrow.

And? How did it go?

The gentlemen from Berliner Abschreibungs-KG
were very nice,

but it seems to be risky to invest
in data processing computers right now

because there's a downward trend in business.

But if the situation changes,
the gentlemen will be ready, of course,

and so forth.

Looks good.

- Is dinner ready?
- In a moment.

- What are these words? Did you write them?
- No.

They were written by a French girl
who killed herself in 1947, when she was 17.

- Yeah? I've never heard anything about that.
- Well, of course.

It's a strange story.
There are no pictures of her, only those words.

Shit. Why is there no dark beer?

Christ! How often do I have to tell you
that I like dark beer with my dinner?

Sorry, I forgot. Of course, I bought some for you.

I'll get it. It's in the refrigerator.

There you go. Your dark beer.

- Do you like it?
- It's not bad.

You'll learn in time, I guess.

I used to just heat canned food for myself.

Canned food is bad for you.

I don't believe that. A lot of things
are bad for you. Life is bad for you.

For someone who gave up eating,
you have quite an appetite.

So what? You want it all to yourself?
I'm hungry, that's all.

And besides, why should I worry
about things I said yesterday?

Why don't you put on some music?
This tape is getting old.

- Who could that be?
- I don't know.

- What now? Should I answer it?
- Answer it.

- But be careful.
- Hide.

Oh, it's you, August.

- Hello.
- My goodness, you scared us.

- Why?
- Why? Who would be coming to see us?

It's just August.

August. For God's sake, what's going on?

Nothing special.
We're meeting tonight at Rudolf's place.

- Why didn't you call ahead?
- I tried. The line was busy.

That's impossible.
Nobody's been using the phone.

Do you know where Susanne and Edgar are?

I have no idea. They'll be here shortly.

- Did you at least try calling them?
- Yes. They've left already, the granddad says.

I really don't get it.

- They'll be here soon.
- Of course.

I don't understand
why this shit always runs through the picture.

Did the grandfather say when they left?

- No, he didn't.
- Shit.

- There you are.
- The car just stopped in the middle of the road.

- How did this happen?
- We ran out of gas, that's all.

- Susanne forgot to fill it up.
- I already told you, you're imagining things.

Susanne, I know what I'm saying,
and I have ears.

Wrong! Wrong! Wrong!

It's your guilty conscience.
That's why you're shouting.

Why on earth should I lie?

Stop arguing. We don't have much time.

- But we're not arguing!
- Stop it. August, tell us, why are we here?

Right. That's more important right now.

Okay, let's go over here.
Not everybody needs to know. Over here.


What's going on?

- I got a tip. Something's going to happen soon.
- What?

I don't know the details, but when
they come through, we'll have to be ready.

We'll need new papers.
Passports, driver's licences and so on.

My God, this is so sudden.
I don't know, I thought...

- We always knew it would happen one day.
- Yes, but...

Stop it. We don't have time for this.
We'll put the whole group in danger.

- That's true.
- August knows what he's doing.

Right. You can count on him.

What are we doing?

We'll make preparations,
get passports and driver's licences.

- That means the records office, right?
- Exactly.

We'll have to draw lots to decide who goes.

Fine. I'll make seven tickets, three with an ''X'',
and the ones who draw an ''X'' will go.

- And the papers are for us this time, right?
- Oh, Petra, who else would they be for?

Well, it's just that I'd like to be
Michaela Angela Martinez. That's all.

Oh, that's no problem. I'll start making the lots.

Hands off!

- Why don't you ask the others about Franz again?
- Okay.

Do you mind if we let Franz into the group?
He's an explosives expert.

Really? That's great.

- What do you think?
- About Franz?

It's fine by me.

But I still don't want that lunatic Bernhard
to join the group.

Damn. The guards are here.

- What? Really? But I checked from outside.
- Me, too.

- Let's get out of here.
- It's probably for the best.

Rubbish! There'll always be risk involved.
That's part of the game.

- Where's the storage room?
- Over there. That door.


Okay, you two hide here and I'll check it out.

If everything is okay,
you unlock the door while I watch the guards.

And if something goes wrong, I'll shoot.

- But...
- We're doing it. I'm going.

Last time I was much faster.

- Did you hear that?
- I'll go check it out.

Is there something wrong?

- No, everything's fine.
- Then let's keep playing.

- I got it.
- Finally.

I'll watch through the keyhole.

Look out! One of the guards is coming!

He's coming our way.

He's coming closer.
I think he's heading for this room.

He's going back.

Yes, he's going back inside.

What a mess!

Do you want to know what happened?

Rudolf tells me

you were trained as an explosives expert
during your military service.

- Oh, did he?
- Yes, he did.

- Cheers.
- Cheers.

Well, I just thought
that might be interesting for the whole group.

- What group?
- For our cell.

It's prohibited by law to use military knowledge
for private enterprises.

My God, a lot of things are prohibited by law.

Tell me what's not prohibited!

Everything that's legal.

Okay, and what's legal?

Come on, what is legal?

That's easy. Everything that's not prohibited.

- See? You don't even know what's legal.
- I didn't say that.

- I'm hungry.
- Your sandwich is ready.

- So what's up?
- With what?

- Don't you want to think about it?
- Here's the sandwich.

- We'll see.
- What is our scholar reading now?

''Bourgeois children often inherit the excessive
habits, prejudice and arrogance of their fathers.

''Among the youth there is an energy, noble
aspiration and natural instinct regarding justice

''that may counterbalance
those negative influences.''

- Do you understand everything you're reading?
- At least I try.

Do you want another sandwich?

Shut up.

It's the others.

I have to tell you this, otherwise I'll lose it.

What's so funny?

Rudolf was so scared, he wet himself.

- I don't believe it.
- Well, have a look, then. His trousers are all wet.

- I'm going to bed.
- Come on, let's see.

Come on! Don't be a wimp.

- Show us.
- Oh, Rudolf!

Imagine that. He wet himself.

I had to stand under the shower
and splash, splash, splash.

Yeah, I'd like to see you in this situation.

Then I'd be the one laughing.

You're not allowed to move.

It really was too funny. I could barely keep quiet.

It's not funny at all. You're nasty. Nasty.

And the papers?

Here they are.

- Shit.
- There. Are you happy now?

More than happy. Excellent work.

He's crying. Look.

- Franz, Franz, what's going on?
- What happened?

- I have no idea.
- Tell us. Come on, please.

Ilse is dead.

Yes, she's dead.

What now?

We have to get rid of her.
They can't find her here.

- Who'll take care of this?
- Ideally, the least conspicuous ones.

Hilde, maybe.

Okay, I'll do it with Petra. All right?

- All right. That sounds good.
- Good. I'll call her right away.

Petra? This is Hilde. Ilse is dead.

We have to get rid of her body.
It would be best if you could come pick me up.

Hello. Good evening.

May I speak to Edgar, please?
Oh, Edgar, this is Paul.

Sorry for calling so late, but it's really important.

I need to see you immediately.

It's about the seals for the papers.

Let's meet at Yaki. Yeah, at 3:00. Bye.

Hello, Hilde? It's Edgar.


Mrs Gast? There's a gentleman here
who insists on seeing you.

- Edgar?
- Susanne.

You can leave, Mr M?ller.


Paul's dead.

- Paul is dead. They shot him. They shot him.
- Oh, God.

They shot him like a mangy dog.
We have to leave right away.

We have to go into hiding, Rudolf.
You have to get out of here.

You have to leave. There's no turning back.

- Where do you think you're going?
- To hell.

Are you mad, Rudolf?

Come on, you have to get out. Come on, Rudolf.

- Get out of here.
- Susanne, I can't go on.

We need to get out.

- What's wrong?
- My husband is sick. I'm taking him home.


Oh, August. Come in. Do you know where Paul is?
He was meant to be here by now.

Paul is dead.


They shot him. Just shot him. At the Japanese
place. Without any warning, according to Edgar.

Then it's over and done with for him.

I'm almost jealous.

No more pain, no more worries.

No more wondering about the endless end

of what we all long for,
which is supposed to be gratification.

You can't afford to become depressed now, Hilde.
Life goes on.

Do you know if Paul left his notebook here?

- No, he always took it with him.
- Oh, man. Shit.

Then, from now on,
Operation Monopoly is in effect.

Here. Papers for Petra and you, including a lease.

Thank you.

Rudolf is at K14 South now.

He needs a new flat
because Franz is joining us after all.

That's a big coup for the group.

Don't you agree?

Look at me, Hilde, please.

That's better. And now smile.
Smile. Just try it, please.

See? You can do it.

Hurry up. And notify Petra immediately.
I'm out of here. Take care. I'll be in touch.

Marianne Klein.

Marianne Klein.

My name will be Marianne Klein.

Marianne Klein.

V. ''Slave looking for master
to train me as his dog.

''Without ties and ready to give everything up.

Always crying. Stop crying.
I'll pick up the rest tomorrow.

''Ready to fulfil every wish imaginable.

''A slave who is absolutely willing
to give himself up.

''I'll be back next Thursday at 4:00 p.m.

''A true sadist will instantly recognise
the slave in me,

''a slave who will
give himself away unconditionally.''

Ad in the men's room at the Bahnhof Zoo,
right stall, January 23, 1979, West Berlin

Edgar, stop crying. Calm down.
Let's practise the names.

So, what's your name?

My name is David Gr?nbaum,
born on February 17, 1948, in Berlin.

Married, one child.
Occupation, management assistant in publishing.

Come on, get changed and repeat the name.

Come on, Sascha!

My name is David Gr?nbaum,
born on February 17, 1948, in Berlin.

Married, one child.

Occupation, management assistant in publishing.

One more time.

My name is David Gr?nbaum,
born on February 17...

And what's your name?

My name is Sarah Gr?nbaum,
maiden name Stiefel,

born on December 25, 1950, in K?nigsberg.

Married, one child. Occupation, housewife.

My name is David Gr?nbaum, born on
February 17, 1948, in Berlin. Married, one child.

My name is Sarah Gr?nbaum,
maiden name Stiefel,

born on December 25, 1950.

My name...
My name is David Gr?nbaum, born on...

...born on December 25, 1950...

My name is David Gr?nbaum,

- born on February 17, 1948. Married, one child.
- Married...

My name is David Gr?nbaum,
born on February 17, 1948...

- ...maiden name Stiefel. Married...
- Berlin. Married, one child.

That's a plate, a saucer, a glass.

A coffee mug.


That's the boiler. Cold water and hot water.

Herbal tea.

Potholder. Refrigerator, but it's empty. Sorry.

Please, Mr Commissioner,
take one of the Christmas pastries.

- No, thank you.
- My mother made them.

And that's the fuse box, Mr Commissioner.

- I can see that, man!
- Of course, Mr Commissioner. Of course.

Needles, Mr Commissioner. And some candy.

- Are those Ilse Hoffmann's heroin needles?
- Yes.

- She's dead by now as well?
- Yes, unfortunately.

Put them away.

- Bounty?
- That's very considerate. Thank you.

You don't have an address? Nothing?

No information on where I could find the others?

- No. They didn't even let me join the group.
- I know.

You know? How do you know that?

''How do you know that?''
It's my duty to know everything.

Of course. It's your duty to know everything.

And this is Ilse's room.

- It was Ilse's room, Mr von Stein.
- Of course.

I apologise. I always forget that she's gone.

- Of course. It was Ilse's room.
- Two pieces of evidence.

- There's this and the gloves.
- What are you doing with Franz's cap?

- Please put it on the pile.
- You can't just confiscate the cap!

Mr Commissioner,
you can't just seize a cap like that.


There's a cap in there and it gets seized.

A cap.
A cap in there, along with a glove of Franz's,

is being taken. Just like that.

My God. You're as stubborn about this cap
as Edgar's grandfather.

Of course. I'm as stubborn about this cap
as Edgar's grandfather.

I'm as stubborn about this cap
as Edgar's grandfather.

- A cap lying in there. I am as stubborn...
- Darts.

- Darts.
- Darts. Where are the darts?

Here are the darts.
I am as stubborn as Edgar's grandfather.

I am as stubborn as Edgar's...
Do you know Edgar?

Do you really know Edgar?

- Edgar is my son.
- Edgar is your son.

And my father is Edgar's grandfather.

- And your father is Edgar's grandfather.
- And he is as stubborn as you are.

And he is as stubborn as I am. Yes.

You're Edgar's father?

And you're Edgar's father,

and your father is Edgar's grandfather,
and he's as stubborn as I am.

Wait a second.

He is Edgar's father
and Edgar's father is his grandfather.

That's wrong. Edgar's father.

- He is Edgar's father and Edgar's father...
- Bernhard.

- Bernhard.
- Yes?

- Please do something useful.
- Something useful.

- Hand me the darts.
- The darts?

- Hand me the darts.
- He wants to play darts.

- Bernhard.
- Yes?

- If you think really hard...
- Yes.'ll remember an address.
For instance, from Susanne.

From Susanne.

But I don't know any address!
That's the problem.

- I don't know any address.
- That's what I said. Exactly.

Stubborn as Edgar's grandfather.

- But I don't know any address.
- Now I've had it.

Sascha, be quiet. Berlin. Married, one child.
Occupation, management assistant in publishing.

- My name is Sarah Gr?nbaum.
- My name is David Gr?nbaum,

born on February 17, 1948, in Berlin.
Married, one child.

My name is...

Susanne, someone betrayed Paul.
Do you understand? He was betrayed.

- Someone betrayed Paul!
- It's all right.

- My name is David Gr?nbaum.
- My name is Sarah Gr?nbaum.

- Born on February 17, 1948, in Berlin.
- Married, one child.

Married, one child.
Occupation, management assistant in publishing.

There's nothing here.
See for yourself. There's nothing here.

You can snoop around as much as you like.
There's nothing here.

- You won't find anything here.
- Did you just yell at me?

I didn't yell at you. I just yelled.

- It's wrong to yell.
- Yeah, I know. It's wrong to yell.

That's a truism. A truism.

It's not a truism, it's common sense.

And when you get to be my age,
you'll find that common sense is always right.

If you ever get to be my age. An address book.

Yeah, that's clever, very clever. An address book.
There. It says, ''Address book.''

- Mr Commissioner?
- Yes?

- You're Edgar's father.
- I'm Edgar's father.

- And your father is Edgar's grandfather.
- And my father is Edgar's grandfather.

- And Edgar's grandfather knows Edgar's address.
- And Edgar's grandfather knows Edgar's address.

But he won't tell me
because he's as stubborn as you are.

Stollen! Stollen!
It's a good stollen. It's a very good stollen.

Stollen with powdered sugar,
stollen with sweetmeats,

stollen with currants, stollen with real butter.

Stollen made by my mother!

- Commissioner Gast?
- Yes?

I've found a tape deck with a cassette in it.

- Very interesting.
- That's recorded music.

- Just plain old music.
- Why don't you check out those books?

Books? Yeah, you're good at that.

Seizing books and music. Music, books and caps.

Caps, books and music.
Can't you hear what's playing there?

It's music. Just plain music.

You'll have to leave it to us, Mr von Stein.
We decide what's important.

- Of course.
- Here, I'll leave this with you.

Just take everything. The cap.

- The spoons. A Milky Way. The typewriter.
- Make a record of everything.

- Paper. Posters. Rembrandt!
- Mr von Stein!


Can we use the typewriter
before we take it away?

Of course. Use the typewriter.
Please use everything.

Please use it. Take it away.

The ashtray.
Here, please take all the numbers on the phone.

The whole phone book. Just seize it.

The English holly! Why don't you arrest me?

Have you ever seized a set of blinds?

Or, here, books.

Or this thing here. What do you say?
There's nothing in it, absolutely nothing.

Take it. There's absolutely nothing in it.

There's absolutely nothing in it.
There's absolutely nothing in it.

Why don't you take the stollen?
I bought it at the store.

But it's delicious and expensive. Expensive.

- Ah, the VCR.
- Of course, our VCR.

The obligatory VCR.

Why obligatory? What's that supposed to mean?

Micha Wolf, born on February 3, 1948,
in Cham, Lower Bavaria. Single.

- Petra?
- Michaela Angela Martinez,

born on November 12, 1946,
in Santiago, Chile. Single.


Marianne Klein, born on February 12, 1947,
in Saarbr?cken. Divorced.


Oskar Mazerath, born on June 17, 1946,
in Cologne. Divorced.

- What's your name now?
- Louis Ferdinand Celineaus Lothringen. Satisfied?

I was just asking.

Okay. All in all, we're in good shape.
But we do have a problem. We need money.

- Money?
- How will we get money?

- Well, look who's asking.
- What do you mean?

Oh, my God. Think about it.

Oh, you think...

Of course.

- That's brilliant!
- You bet it is.

Life can be so simple sometimes.

Exactly. We'll withdraw it from the bank
using a little arm-twisting.

- Shall I prepare the lots?
- Yeah, get started.

Ideally, we should use Petra's husband's bank.

Then at least one of us
will know their way around.

- If you think it's a good idea.
- Believe me, it's our best bet.

We just need two others to help you.

That sounds reasonable.
What do you think, Rudolf?

It sounds good. I don't understand
why we're discussing it so much.

Don't you agree?

Every time I think about Paul, I get a bad feeling.

- Don't talk about Paul.
- But I have to.

I can't help it,
but I'm almost certain he was betrayed.

- By whom?
- Well, that's obvious, isn't it?

- Think about it.
- Oh, you think...

If that's true...

Why are you all looking at me?
Stop staring at me!

Considering the facts,
I don't think Franz had anything to do with it.

Okay, draw your lots. Oh, I got another bye.

- I got an ''X''.
- Me, too.

Okay, Petra, Franz and Hilde will do the bank job.
That's the practical thing to do.

- But I'd like to send a message.
- What kind of message?

Something exciting. Something big.
I thought about blowing up a landmark.

- The Memorial Church.
- Or the SFB, the public radio station.

- The Sch?neberg Rathaus.
- Exactly.

- The Sch?neberg Rathaus.
- Brilliant.

- Brilliant. But I'd like to do it.
- Boom!

- Please, please, let me do it. Just me.
- If you want to.

Franz can build you a nice big bomb,
can't you, Franz?

Yes, if you want me to.

Hello? Yes.

Of course.

- Who was that?
- The post.

Who is it? Petra?

Petra, is that you?

Petra, is that you?

This is a robbery. Stay calm.

- Do as we say.
- Get up. Everyone against the wall.

Move. Hands up, behind your head.

- Come on, let's go.
- Let's go, Petra.

- Is everything all right?
- Yeah.

Hurry up. We're running out of time.

All right. I'm done.

Stay put for three minutes,
or we'll shoot your manager.

Shit. I can't open this thing.

If you don't know the combination,
forget about it. Come on.



I can show you Edgar and Susanne's room.
Here it is.

My great-grandson's crib is still in there.
Edgar's son, you know.

Yes, but I asked you about where to find Edgar.

- Your name is von Stein?
- Yes, but...

- Then you're a nobleman.
- Yes, but...


Nothing. I just mean that I don't care
about being a nobleman.

That's Edgar's mother.

Sometimes she comes to life and moves around,

but usually she's in a dream world.

I always wanted to be a nobleman,
ever since I was a child.

A lord or a baron.

You can have my title.

- You really don't care about being noble?
- No, I don't.

Sometimes I don't understand people.

I understand that
you and Edgar got along very well?

- Yes, we did.
- Right.

So I thought that you might know his address.

See, here's the piano. This is where
he always sat and composed, hour after hour.

And? And?

I don't have the address.
You're bullying me, just like my son.

- This is Mr von Stein.
- Bernhard von Stein. Hello.

- I don't feel like a chocolate at the moment.
- Don't mind her.

She's a bit different.

She's been like that for quite some time.
Don't worry about it.

Oh, here's one of Edgar's compositions.

Perhaps he could have been
a great composer, our Edgar,

but I don't know enough about music.

Why don't you take a look at it? I'll be right back.


- Don't you have a Stresemann suit?
- Me? No.

Oh, I understand.

People wore that sort of thing 37 years ago.

I'm so forgetful. Excuse me.


Stresemann... A long time ago...

37 Stresemann.

So Edgar and I...

- You don't get it. I'm not Edgar any more.
- Be quiet, Sascha.

Stop yelling. That puts us in even more danger.

Bollocks. Nobody will suspect anything,
thanks to the baby.

What kind of idiot would take a baby into hiding?
There's no better disguise.

You still don't need to yell like that.

Okay, David and I are almost certain

that there's something fishy
about this thing with Paul.

Let me make myself clear.
We think Paul was betrayed.

Yeah, we've discussed that as well.

Anyway, it's only a suspicion for now.

So we think we'll have to be
more careful in the future.

- Yeah, we need to protect ourselves.
- We have a plan.

We're thinking about kidnapping
Susanne's old boss, P.J. Lurz.

You want to kidnap P.J. Lurz?

Yes, because I know his exact daily routine.

Of course.

But what would be the point of that?

Simple. We'd demand the release
of all the political prisoners in West Germany.

All of them?

- Okay, but...
- But what?

Well, why?

- Why? Why? Because that's what's done.
- That's right.

- It's common practice.
- Okay, that's fine.

- Of course it's fine.
- That's what I said.

And that's why you're here,

because we need your help with the plan
and we don't want anyone else to know about it.

- I understand.
- Okay.

It goes without saying that we'll help you. Right?

- No doubt about it.
- Good.

- Who could that be?
- No idea. Should I check it out?

No, no, I'll go.

- August.
- Hi.

- We didn't know you were coming.
- Hello, August.

The robbery was a success,
and I wanted to give you your share.

Hey. What are you doing here?

We just popped by to say hello. Nothing...

Of course, of course.
Here's the money. Franz gave it to me.

We're just here for a visit.

Well, I have to go. I'll be in touch. Bye.

From the men's room
at the Terzo Mondo restaurant,

February 20, 1979,
on Grohlman St. near Savignyplatz, West Berlin

Moritzplatz. Last station in West Berlin.

Stand back, please.

One beer.

Well, what do you say now?

This was a cynical choice for a meeting place.

No, no, it's not cynical. It's a smart decision.

There's nowhere safer in all of Berlin.

I still think it's cynical.

In any case, it couldn't have worked out better.

I don't think anyone suspects a thing.
Thank you. I'll pour it myself.

...time, even art,

if you know what I mean.

Do you have the money?


- Hi, Franz.
- Hi, August.

Do you have the bomb?

- Yes.
- Blimey, be careful.

- It's disarmed.
- I see.

- What does Petra have to do, exactly?
- Just set the timer.

She should give herself five minutes to get away.

- By the way, they found Ilse.
- Really?

- Yes. She's already buried.
- Where?

In the Jerusalem Cemetery.

Can I use your phone?

The nigger will be at the cemetery in half an hour

and Petra will be at the Sch?neberg Rathaus
at 12:05 p.m.

Franz. Franz, wait.

Franz? You can't go to Ilse's grave right now.
Do you hear me?

Franz, I've been watching them. It's all a setup.

It's a setup, Franz. August and Lurz...

If you go, you'll be arrested.

Franz? Are you listening to me?
You'll be arrested.

If you don't stop, I'll shoot you.

Leave me alone.

Put your hands up!

- Finally.
- I came as quickly as I could. Here's the bomb.

You need to arm it. Set the timer for 12:05 p.m.
Put it up there by the window.


Get out, Lurz! Get out. Get out. Come on, out.

Move. Faster. Faster!
Come on, move. Faster, faster, faster!


Get in.


Put your hands up.

Why were you at Ilse's grave
at that particular moment?

- It was a coincidence, Mr Commissioner.
- But you were friends with Franz Walsch?

And it was purely a coincidence that you were
at the cemetery at the same time?

- Yes, a coincidence.
- Mr von Stein!


Your being there was not a coincidence,
Mr von Stein.


Well, then?

- I followed him.
- I see.

Just recently you told me
that you had no idea where your friends live.

- That was true.
- But now you know?

Yes, I followed August
and he met up with Franz, so I followed him.

- And where did you see August?
- I just ran into him walking down the street.

You're lying again, Mr von Stein.

You know the address.
You can't stay silent for long, Mr von Stein.

I know you have an address.
Is it, perhaps, their new address?

- I don't know the address!
- You silly, lying, little bastard.

- I don't know it.
- All right. You'll tell me soon enough.

We have methods, Mr von Stein,
methods you can't possibly imagine.

You will talk, believe me.

- The whole thing is a dirty setup anyway.
- What are you talking about?

I witnessed a meeting
between August and P.J. Lurz,

and he paid him to put the others
in the position they're in now.

You're mad. How do you know P.J. Lurz?

He's a business associate of my father's.

You have an overactive imagination, Mr von Stein.

Your story is a crazy fairy tale. Keep moving.

But this crazy fairy tale is the truth,
nothing but the truth.

Watch out, the handrail is rotten!

- Do you want a sip of this?
- Oh, yes, lovely.

- Thank you.
- You're welcome.

- Come on, hurry up.
- This piece of shit isn't working.

- I thought you were an expert.
- I never said that.

Whatever. Come on, hurry up.

What do you mean? ''Hurry, hurry.''
Do it yourself, since you know everything.

- Stop sniping at each other.
- And you stop being such a know-it-all.

I just said what was necessary.

But if you don't like it,
I won't say anything any more.

Okay. Can you repeat the words
one more time, Mr Lurz?

My name is P.J. Lurz.

Today is Tuesday, February 27, 1979,

Shrove Tuesday.

I am a prisoner here in the name of the people
and for the good of the people.

Thank you.

- Did it work this time?
- I'll try again. I can't say for sure.

Get out of the picture. And you, too.

Yes, I'm talking to you.

The letters are too big.
You'll have to write it again.

You could have said something earlier.

How was I supposed to know?
Everybody can try new things, okay?

For God's sake! Can you start the zoo noises?
It's the recording over there.

Okay. One more time, Mr Lurz.

My name is P.J. Lurz.

Today is Tuesday, February 27, 1979,

Shrove Tuesday.

I am a prisoner here in the name of the people
and for the good of the people.

Was that all right? Are you happy with it?

- Is the writing okay?
- The writing is just fine.

And, Mr Lurz, once the recording is on,
please speak up a bit.

Okay. Let's do it one more time.

A bit to the left. Just a little bit.

Yeah, yeah, that's good. That's good.

And please don't move, Mr Lurz. One final check.

Why don't you get out of the picture?
You back there.

Zoo noises, go.

My name is P.J. Lurz.

Today is Tuesday, February 27, 1979,

Shrove Tuesday.

I am a prisoner here in the name of the people
and for the good of the people.

And again, please, Mr Lurz.
A little louder this time, okay?

My name is P.J. Lurz.

Today is Tuesday, February 27, 1979,

Shrove Tuesday.

I am a prisoner here in the name of the people
and for the good of the people.