Babylon Berlin (2017–…): Season 4, Episode 12 - Episode #4.12 - full transcript
Tensions come to a head between the SA and SS. Charlotte and Gereon attend a boxing match. Spies and movie stars are US bound on a zeppelin.
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- Ready, men?
- Yes, sir!
- Are you ready?
- Yeah!
Dismount.
Dismount.
- SA is taking over.
- Out of the way.
SA is taking over.
- What's going on?
- Away from the tables.
SA is taking over. You'll wait for orders.
Take-over!
Join us!
- Take-over!
- Sit down.
- What is this?
- Are you nuts?
- Sit down.
- Stay in your seat.
Hey! Leave that man alone!
You will all have to stand trial
in party court!
You are responsible
for this afternoon's edition?
Yes. And I warn you.
This will have consequences.
This afternoon's edition will be changed.
It's already printed.
Where?
- Where is the edition?
- Here... Detective Rath.
Here are the first prints.
Police headquarter?
Councilor Wendt, please, and fast.
Morning, gentlemen.
Who have we got here?
This is Wendt.
Who is this?
Hello?
Say goodbye to quick fame,
Count Helldorff.
Sieg Heil, gentlemen.
We are taking over the leadership.
You may join us
or refuse the renewal of the party.
HITLER CHEERED IN GERA
We're exchanging the front page.
With this one.
- You will print this. Now.
- No, you won't.
- Into the basement with him.
- Get up, come on!
Comrades, this is not a coup.
This is the SA's revolt against
Hitler's submissive vasalls in Munich.
Join us! The future is ours.
Troop leader, we need
to join Oberführer Stennes now.
Fine.
- You two...
- But Hitler is...
Hitler is gone, Mr. Jacoby.
But this is... good.
Yes. Of course.
HITLER OVERTHROWN STENNES
TAKES OVER MAJORITY CHEERS
Comrades,
you're betraying the movement!
You will all have to stand trial
in a party court!
You are abusing your office and your
power if you don't end this coup.
- Which coup?
- You will be held accountable.
For what?
For not confronting the marauding mob!
Enlighten me, councilor.
Where is a marauding mob, please?
The building of a legal party
was occupied,
and the police doesn't intervene?
As far as I know, this is the headquarters
of a party
who is having an internal dispute
with their own executive body.
I can call the president of the Reich.
I wonder how he sees the situation.
In this matter, there is no one above me.
I decide whether we intervene or not.
But first, councilor, as your superior,
I command you not to do anything.
This is your plan.
You want them to tear each other apart.
You want Stennes to take over.
Because he doesn't mobilize the masses
like Hitler.
And he doesn't want to be eligible
at any cost.
Because he won't make the party big,
and because you think
you can keep him at bay.
I have no idea what you are on about.
It was always just about that.
You are no police officer.
You don't act in the interest of the state
or the citizens or the safety of our city.
You are exclusively a servant
of your party and nothing else.
How many men can we activate?
- No more than 12. Not enough--
- Arrange it.
- But we can't--
- Do as I tell you, Sebald.
And call the leader of the Berlin SS.
We will arm his troops with police guns.
Our 12 men plus one SS century,
that will be enough.
And Grzesinski?
He can confront them
if he has the guts to do it.
There he is.
Editorial office going to plan.
- Our edition is being printed?
- Right now, Oberführer.
Good. This traitor tried to inform
the police and good old Wendt.
Shut up, Stennes.
- What about Goebbels?
- He's with Quandt.
Having fun with a manufacturer's spouse.
But if he hears of this...
Then you are all in for it.
We'll take care of it, thank you.
He'll be fuming.
But by then, it'll be too late.
By then, we'll have the party
tow our line.
You will lose.
That's enough.
Oh yeah?
How would you deal
with traitors like him?
Punish them.
A death sentence?
If need be, yes.
Show him how we treat rabble like him.
You're the worst of all.
Judas.
Into the basement. Let the pig bleed out.
Slowly, until it squeals.
We don't know blood, only convictions.
Put him in the basement too.
I'll deal with him personally.
Come on, quick.
Get your guns and sign for them.
Right, men, let's do it.
We'll depart as soon as we're complete.
Quick!
Signature and get your gun, quick.
Swiftly. Hurry up.
- Operator.
- In-house operations management.
On the double!
- How is this possible?
- Wendt mobilized them.
They are on their way.
SS are coming.
Go in and win, men!
You, get lost. Out!
- No!
- Comrades!
Every single one of you is about
to achieve something great.
The party is not the leader
of the movement.
No, that's us! The SA!
I have just been told...
that Private Hitler
has resigned from the chair.
That Austrian upstart...
is history!
Our Gauleiter Goebbels and his men
are backing us in unison.
Our victory!
Storm!
We are the storm troops
We are ready for anything
We are the front rows
We attack with courage
The storm troops are standing up
Individual fire on my command.
We are ready for the fight
Only when the Jews are bleeding
Fire.
- Hey!
- Are you nuts?
- Traitors! Are you crazy?
- Fire.
Are you crazy?
- Hey! You can't do this!
- Sturmabteilung!
Give yourselves up, or die!
- What is this? We're comrades!
- Down with the truncheons!
On the floor!
Truncheons on the floor!
Now or never!
Go on!
Hands in the air!
- Take them away.
- Go on.
- Come on.
- Take over the building.
SS takes over!
- Weapons on the floor.
- Everyone out!
Into the corner!
Oberführer Helldorff, can you hear me?
An almost unarmed uprising.
I thought you were capable of more,
Stennes.
Germans don't shoot at Germans.
Away with this.
The mole, after all.
I didn't want this.
Even if you're a traitor.
Moritz.
My strict command was,
no one must hear of this.
Absolutely no one.
Not even you.
The SA, the party...
be it Stennes or Helldorff,
be it Goebbels or Hitler,
they all have the same goal.
No matter how much they fight internally.
- Yeah?
- Yeah.
They want to subjugate our state
and lead the people into a new war.
Moritz.
Stennes would have had me killed
without batting an eyelash.
Do you want to live in a country
which is led by people like that?
Moritz!
Moritz!
This hour of hardship
requires discernment and trust...
in the future.
My condolences, madam.
Alfred, may I introduce Mr. Blank?
I have told you about him.
Why don't you bring Mr. Hitler next time?
We'd love to give a dinner for him.
Don't we, Alfred?
Absolutely.
By all means.
I'm sure that can be arranged.
Our condolences.
Abraham.
What's your final word?
Thank you.
Take care, and arrive safely.
Uncle.
Be so kind and check on his grave
every now and then.
Be so kind.
8Why was everyone listening to Wendt?
How was he able to give a century of SS
police guns?
He used them for an illegal operation.
And no one here stopped him.
How was that possible, sir?
I can open
a disciplinary procedure against him,
but his support in this house
is stronger than we think.
Councilor Wendt, sir.
Is this the meeting
of the conspirational club
"Berlin police against unwelcome
associations and parties"?
Your sarcasm
won't whitewash your slate.
What did I dirty it with, if I may ask?
With arming illegal combat units for
breaking up a conflict within a party.
You had no authority for any of this.
I run the political division
of the Berlin police.
Intervention in party matters,
if they concern or restrict
the general public interest,
is the central task of this division.
You used the SS to back up
Adolf Hitler's Munich leadership.
You did nothing but enforce
your personal political goals by force.
And you?
You sneak into a legal organization
as if it was organized crime.
Who gives you the authority
to destabilize one of many parties
in our liberal democracy?
Since when has this been
the task of this institution?
I won't enter an ideological dispute with
categorical demagogues like you.
I'm aware of that.
But this way, you will miss
the tide of society turning.
Against you and your
outdated politics of stagnation.
It's been a pleasure, gentlemen.
Day of reckoning...
for the rebels.
The mutiny of Police Captain Stennes.
No SA man obeys the orders
of a disloyal traitor.
It was nothing less than
an attempted coup
against the leadership of a legal party.
Loyalty to Hitler rules the field.
We had to take drastic measures
to restore order.
The NSDAP stands unwaveringly,
for this is our slogan.
Our honor is...
loyalty.
Jacoby!
Fred!
- Operator, which number?
- Wilmersdorf 31-10, please.
Helfers.
- Charlotte Ritter speaking.
- Miss Ritter.
- Were you able to achieve something?
- Yes, indeed. And I have good news.
There is a place for your sister.
She is with me right now.
I will accompany her
to Insel Scharfenberg right now.
Great, I'm very happy.
- Thank you! Goodbye.
- Goodbye.
Please come with me, Antonie.
There you are.
Shall we go?
Yes.
- Where to?
- Westwards.
Hop on.
- Hi.
- Hi.
- Come with me?
- Yes.
Where to?
A boxing match.
Are you sure?
Kulanin, yes.
He's left the country.
Where to?
- The United States, New York.
- When does it take off?
In about an hour.
Stop the guy,
under any circumstances.
- I have already arranged it.
- Good.
I'm on my way.
Your documents, please.
- Ms. Korda, an autograph, please.
- Of course.
Ms. Korda, what are your plans
for the future?
- Oskar Kulani?
- What is it?
Passport control.
- Again?
- We need to check your papers again.
Of course.
Let's call my superior.
Come with me.
- Does he look like you?
- Not at all, actually.
And what's he like?
Very friendly, actually.
He doesn't look like a boxer.
More like a dancer.
- Yeah?
- This is him.
Johann "Rukeli" Trollmann.
I'm a little excited.
Well then...
Shall we place a bet?
- You mean on Rukeli?
- Sure.
- Three marks.
- Three marks.
- 3.50.
- 3.90 marks.
- On Johann Trollmann winning.
- OK.
I'm not betting on some provincial guy
just coz you say so.
We're betting the last farthing you earned
from the primates at Der Angriff
so that the money can be used
for a good cause after all.
Which is?
The purchase of records,
alcoholic beverages, tobacco.
- Reinhold.
- Charlotte.
- Your betting slip.
- Thank you. What are the odds?
5:1. Your guy is the outsider.
- Who are you betting on?
- The gypsy from Hanover.
- So do we!
- We?
- Detective.
- Mr. Gräf. Mr. Jacoby.
I heard you gave up your side job?
I heard so did you.
You can't juggle too many balls at once.
It confuses the metabolism.
Thanks to Reinhold, I can hope that a
well-placed bet saves my existence.
- Do you know about boxing?
- No.
Is this the serious public announcement
of long-hidden amourous dealings
which we should toast with a drink?
Is this confidential
or am I speaking to the press?
The only journalist
present is unemployed.
Dear boxing friends,
please take your seats.
- The interview needs postponing.
- Yes, please. Where are you sitting?
In the pit, block one, row two.
High society seats. How come?
- Connections.
- We are standing.
- In the circle block 14.
- That's right. This way. See you later.
See you.
Is that him?
With whom do I have the honor?
Wendt, Councilor.
The airship is about to take off.
Let me board.
You won't be boarding this zeppelin.
We have a few questions
which you won't be answering in this hall.
What am I charged with?
Confiscate the briefcase.
Give me the key.
That's not possible.
Who are you?
McFarland, military attaché
of the American embassy.
What is going on?
This man won't be able
to leave the country for now.
I don't think you can stop him.
He is traveling on behalf
of the American government.
What?
Surely you don't want
to violate my diplomatic immunity,
Councilor.
Only if you want
to provoke an international crisis.
Thank you, General.
If you would excuse me now...
Goodbye, Major.
Ladies and gentlemen,
please take your seats now.
The main fight will begin
in a few minutes.
Germany to the Germans,
Germany to the Germans...
Do you know them?
In front on the left, close to the ring
they've planted themselves,
the scoundrels.
- Another one.
- How many?
Sixty, seventy, maybe more.
They're pulling the gypsy bullshit.
I'll turn them.
That's what you imagine, do you?
Wait and see.
Off we go.
You'll blow him away.
Ladies and gentlemen,
dear friends of boxing.
Welcome to the Sportspalast in Berlin
for the main fight of tonight.
Please welcome both of the boxers.
We have 15 rounds
of cruiser weight tonight.
Germany to the Germans...
That's him!
Germany to the Germans...
Focus. Don't get distracted
and no shenanigans, get it? Good.
First, I'll introduce the boxer
in the white pants.
Our local hero from Berlin, Willy Bolze.
His opponent in the black pants,
from Hanover, Johann Trollmann.
The referee of this fight
is Joseph Krause from Berlin.
Gypsy! Little finger, whole hand
Gypsies out of our land!
- Be quiet!
- Gypsy friends or what?
I'll come over!
You know the rules.
I expect a fair, clean fight.
Shake hands and go to your corners.
The two athletes have met before, two
years ago. Back then, it was a draw...
in Spichernsälen for a fight between
Willy Bolze and Johann Trollmann.
- Clear the ring!
- And we start with the first round.
Willy Bolze, the battering ram
from Rixdorf,
the ruffian from Berlin
with a rather rustic technique,
and on the other side is Johann
Trollmann. He dances and jumps,
he's known for his unusual technique,
left jab here, right jab there, he
changes his leading hand every second,
ladies and gentlemen.
He is dancing around Bolze.
Bolze is trying to hit him
and use his power to his advantage.
And there's a hit.
Trollmann is going for it.
- He's aggressive in this first duel.
- Well done, Rukeli!
Bravo! Bravo!
Bolze is on the ground.
A direct hit by Trollmann.
One, two, three, four...
Bolze is getting up again,
with a determined gaze
and his heart in his hand
he is going back into the fight.
Trollmann is waiting for him.
Again, they are dancing around
each other. Trollmann of course...
Is this seat free?
Why, of course.
It would be my pleasure.
Are you leaving Berlin for longer?
Maybe.
But there is something...
holding you back.
Family affairs.
Madame Korda,
your table is ready now.
- It was a pleasure, Mr...
- Goldstein.
Abe Goldstein.
Esther.
And now to Moscow, Comrade?
The embassy will do for now.
Just a few seconds left of round four,
and if it goes on like this,
Bolze won't be leaving the ring
on his own feet tonight.
The bell saves the local hero.
But slowly, enthusiasm is building
for the agility, the flexibility,
the speed of the dark-skinned outsider.
Did you hear?
- Lower the cover and then a hook.
- Bolze, Bolze...
That's it, Willy!
You've got him!
- Yes!
- Get out of the corner!
It's an open exchange of blows.
But Trollmann is not discouraged.
Gypsy!
Trollmann lands one blow after the other,
apparently with rage in his belly.
For the second time,
Bolze is on the floor.
That hit home. The Berliner is having
a hard time getting up again.
Have the people in charge
been held accountable?
They got what they deserved, yes.
What about you?
How come you are off the New York?
I'm hiding home.
Home? Didn't say
you were a Russian spy?
That's true.
But not for the communists.
Mister Kulanin?
Your table is ready. Number four.
My table? I didn't reserve
a table for tonight.
Yes, the young man is waiting for you.
Any useful advice for me, my friend?
Don't ever believe your own lies.
Round eight has begun at Sportpalast
in Berlin, ladies and gentlemen.
The local hero is faltering,
he's teetering.
He tries to hide his drowsiness.
But it would take a miracle to save him.
- What's the matter with you?
- That's unfair!
Yuck! Gypsy pig, get lost!
Go home!
Gypsy, gypsy...
Box!
Trollmann is on the ground, badly hit.
The referee is counting him down.
A moment of confusion could take away
the victory he thought was his.
Trollmann is up again,
but he's teetering, he is rocking like
a boat on Lake Wannsee,
but he is determined to keep fighting.
He's approaching Bolze again,
tries to hit him.
And there is the bell, interrupting
this furious counter-attack.
It was a heavy punch,
ladies and gentlemen,
hitting him unexpectedly
like a bolt out of the blue.
Gypsy, gypsy...
What's the matter? Trollmann looks like a
master baker, all white like a ghost.
Did he fall into a bucket...
The audience is thrilled to bits.
Trollmann delivers punch on punch.
Apparently with rage in his belly.
Oh yes. Something has been building
up in Johann "Rukeli" Trollmann.
He's obviously going the whole hog now.
One, two, three, four...
-Get up!
- Ladies and gentlemen...
...eight, nine, ten!
That's it!
Trollmann!
Rukeli, Rukeli...
Hey, what do you want?
Do you want to crown the twerp now?
Gereon. Gereon!
I'll be right back.
Get your people out of here, dammit!
If you rig the fights in favor of this
antisocial rabble,
you shouldn't be surprised
about the trouble!
Get lost.
Right now.
The whole gang.
Men! Comrades!
We're leaving.
8Forward march! This is an order!
Ladies and gentlemen, we have a
winner through knock-out in round nine.
Johann "Rukeli" Trollmann!
Everything all right?
How much did we win?
Don't know.
- But we'll blow it all now.
- Fine. Let's go.
Hey, look. It's Emil!
- That's him.
- Emil Engels.
Two schnapps.
I almost forgot.
A ring?
Gennat says hi.
A second chance. If you want.
Tomorrow is tomorrow. Now is now.
And now... I want to dance.
Fine.
A dance?
Life, is it but a dream?
It would be nice, I doubt
That it's true
Be careful, it's easily forgotten
The truth is very simple
Nothing remains as it is
A day like gold
You have everything you want
A night... it couldn't be better
Greetings to Moscow,
Paris and Vienna
We wave to you
Everyone is coming to Berlin
Everything shrill, everyone wants it
They all knew all along that we're crazy
A day like gold
What remains will be declared
A shimmer,
what do I care about balances
Let's dance
Bravo!
Are you ready?
I'll do it.
On my own.
I hear you want me dead.
No.
Isn't that why you've come here, Gereon?
To see me die?
No. Not anymore.
It's over.
Our pact.
It ends here.
I'm not afraid anymore.
The source of my fear...
It has run dry.
Then you've reached your goal.
Come and see.
Look at it.
They are waiting.
The ill-treated masses.
Now you are ready to lead them.
Gereon!
---
- Ready, men?
- Yes, sir!
- Are you ready?
- Yeah!
Dismount.
Dismount.
- SA is taking over.
- Out of the way.
SA is taking over.
- What's going on?
- Away from the tables.
SA is taking over. You'll wait for orders.
Take-over!
Join us!
- Take-over!
- Sit down.
- What is this?
- Are you nuts?
- Sit down.
- Stay in your seat.
Hey! Leave that man alone!
You will all have to stand trial
in party court!
You are responsible
for this afternoon's edition?
Yes. And I warn you.
This will have consequences.
This afternoon's edition will be changed.
It's already printed.
Where?
- Where is the edition?
- Here... Detective Rath.
Here are the first prints.
Police headquarter?
Councilor Wendt, please, and fast.
Morning, gentlemen.
Who have we got here?
This is Wendt.
Who is this?
Hello?
Say goodbye to quick fame,
Count Helldorff.
Sieg Heil, gentlemen.
We are taking over the leadership.
You may join us
or refuse the renewal of the party.
HITLER CHEERED IN GERA
We're exchanging the front page.
With this one.
- You will print this. Now.
- No, you won't.
- Into the basement with him.
- Get up, come on!
Comrades, this is not a coup.
This is the SA's revolt against
Hitler's submissive vasalls in Munich.
Join us! The future is ours.
Troop leader, we need
to join Oberführer Stennes now.
Fine.
- You two...
- But Hitler is...
Hitler is gone, Mr. Jacoby.
But this is... good.
Yes. Of course.
HITLER OVERTHROWN STENNES
TAKES OVER MAJORITY CHEERS
Comrades,
you're betraying the movement!
You will all have to stand trial
in a party court!
You are abusing your office and your
power if you don't end this coup.
- Which coup?
- You will be held accountable.
For what?
For not confronting the marauding mob!
Enlighten me, councilor.
Where is a marauding mob, please?
The building of a legal party
was occupied,
and the police doesn't intervene?
As far as I know, this is the headquarters
of a party
who is having an internal dispute
with their own executive body.
I can call the president of the Reich.
I wonder how he sees the situation.
In this matter, there is no one above me.
I decide whether we intervene or not.
But first, councilor, as your superior,
I command you not to do anything.
This is your plan.
You want them to tear each other apart.
You want Stennes to take over.
Because he doesn't mobilize the masses
like Hitler.
And he doesn't want to be eligible
at any cost.
Because he won't make the party big,
and because you think
you can keep him at bay.
I have no idea what you are on about.
It was always just about that.
You are no police officer.
You don't act in the interest of the state
or the citizens or the safety of our city.
You are exclusively a servant
of your party and nothing else.
How many men can we activate?
- No more than 12. Not enough--
- Arrange it.
- But we can't--
- Do as I tell you, Sebald.
And call the leader of the Berlin SS.
We will arm his troops with police guns.
Our 12 men plus one SS century,
that will be enough.
And Grzesinski?
He can confront them
if he has the guts to do it.
There he is.
Editorial office going to plan.
- Our edition is being printed?
- Right now, Oberführer.
Good. This traitor tried to inform
the police and good old Wendt.
Shut up, Stennes.
- What about Goebbels?
- He's with Quandt.
Having fun with a manufacturer's spouse.
But if he hears of this...
Then you are all in for it.
We'll take care of it, thank you.
He'll be fuming.
But by then, it'll be too late.
By then, we'll have the party
tow our line.
You will lose.
That's enough.
Oh yeah?
How would you deal
with traitors like him?
Punish them.
A death sentence?
If need be, yes.
Show him how we treat rabble like him.
You're the worst of all.
Judas.
Into the basement. Let the pig bleed out.
Slowly, until it squeals.
We don't know blood, only convictions.
Put him in the basement too.
I'll deal with him personally.
Come on, quick.
Get your guns and sign for them.
Right, men, let's do it.
We'll depart as soon as we're complete.
Quick!
Signature and get your gun, quick.
Swiftly. Hurry up.
- Operator.
- In-house operations management.
On the double!
- How is this possible?
- Wendt mobilized them.
They are on their way.
SS are coming.
Go in and win, men!
You, get lost. Out!
- No!
- Comrades!
Every single one of you is about
to achieve something great.
The party is not the leader
of the movement.
No, that's us! The SA!
I have just been told...
that Private Hitler
has resigned from the chair.
That Austrian upstart...
is history!
Our Gauleiter Goebbels and his men
are backing us in unison.
Our victory!
Storm!
We are the storm troops
We are ready for anything
We are the front rows
We attack with courage
The storm troops are standing up
Individual fire on my command.
We are ready for the fight
Only when the Jews are bleeding
Fire.
- Hey!
- Are you nuts?
- Traitors! Are you crazy?
- Fire.
Are you crazy?
- Hey! You can't do this!
- Sturmabteilung!
Give yourselves up, or die!
- What is this? We're comrades!
- Down with the truncheons!
On the floor!
Truncheons on the floor!
Now or never!
Go on!
Hands in the air!
- Take them away.
- Go on.
- Come on.
- Take over the building.
SS takes over!
- Weapons on the floor.
- Everyone out!
Into the corner!
Oberführer Helldorff, can you hear me?
An almost unarmed uprising.
I thought you were capable of more,
Stennes.
Germans don't shoot at Germans.
Away with this.
The mole, after all.
I didn't want this.
Even if you're a traitor.
Moritz.
My strict command was,
no one must hear of this.
Absolutely no one.
Not even you.
The SA, the party...
be it Stennes or Helldorff,
be it Goebbels or Hitler,
they all have the same goal.
No matter how much they fight internally.
- Yeah?
- Yeah.
They want to subjugate our state
and lead the people into a new war.
Moritz.
Stennes would have had me killed
without batting an eyelash.
Do you want to live in a country
which is led by people like that?
Moritz!
Moritz!
This hour of hardship
requires discernment and trust...
in the future.
My condolences, madam.
Alfred, may I introduce Mr. Blank?
I have told you about him.
Why don't you bring Mr. Hitler next time?
We'd love to give a dinner for him.
Don't we, Alfred?
Absolutely.
By all means.
I'm sure that can be arranged.
Our condolences.
Abraham.
What's your final word?
Thank you.
Take care, and arrive safely.
Uncle.
Be so kind and check on his grave
every now and then.
Be so kind.
8Why was everyone listening to Wendt?
How was he able to give a century of SS
police guns?
He used them for an illegal operation.
And no one here stopped him.
How was that possible, sir?
I can open
a disciplinary procedure against him,
but his support in this house
is stronger than we think.
Councilor Wendt, sir.
Is this the meeting
of the conspirational club
"Berlin police against unwelcome
associations and parties"?
Your sarcasm
won't whitewash your slate.
What did I dirty it with, if I may ask?
With arming illegal combat units for
breaking up a conflict within a party.
You had no authority for any of this.
I run the political division
of the Berlin police.
Intervention in party matters,
if they concern or restrict
the general public interest,
is the central task of this division.
You used the SS to back up
Adolf Hitler's Munich leadership.
You did nothing but enforce
your personal political goals by force.
And you?
You sneak into a legal organization
as if it was organized crime.
Who gives you the authority
to destabilize one of many parties
in our liberal democracy?
Since when has this been
the task of this institution?
I won't enter an ideological dispute with
categorical demagogues like you.
I'm aware of that.
But this way, you will miss
the tide of society turning.
Against you and your
outdated politics of stagnation.
It's been a pleasure, gentlemen.
Day of reckoning...
for the rebels.
The mutiny of Police Captain Stennes.
No SA man obeys the orders
of a disloyal traitor.
It was nothing less than
an attempted coup
against the leadership of a legal party.
Loyalty to Hitler rules the field.
We had to take drastic measures
to restore order.
The NSDAP stands unwaveringly,
for this is our slogan.
Our honor is...
loyalty.
Jacoby!
Fred!
- Operator, which number?
- Wilmersdorf 31-10, please.
Helfers.
- Charlotte Ritter speaking.
- Miss Ritter.
- Were you able to achieve something?
- Yes, indeed. And I have good news.
There is a place for your sister.
She is with me right now.
I will accompany her
to Insel Scharfenberg right now.
Great, I'm very happy.
- Thank you! Goodbye.
- Goodbye.
Please come with me, Antonie.
There you are.
Shall we go?
Yes.
- Where to?
- Westwards.
Hop on.
- Hi.
- Hi.
- Come with me?
- Yes.
Where to?
A boxing match.
Are you sure?
Kulanin, yes.
He's left the country.
Where to?
- The United States, New York.
- When does it take off?
In about an hour.
Stop the guy,
under any circumstances.
- I have already arranged it.
- Good.
I'm on my way.
Your documents, please.
- Ms. Korda, an autograph, please.
- Of course.
Ms. Korda, what are your plans
for the future?
- Oskar Kulani?
- What is it?
Passport control.
- Again?
- We need to check your papers again.
Of course.
Let's call my superior.
Come with me.
- Does he look like you?
- Not at all, actually.
And what's he like?
Very friendly, actually.
He doesn't look like a boxer.
More like a dancer.
- Yeah?
- This is him.
Johann "Rukeli" Trollmann.
I'm a little excited.
Well then...
Shall we place a bet?
- You mean on Rukeli?
- Sure.
- Three marks.
- Three marks.
- 3.50.
- 3.90 marks.
- On Johann Trollmann winning.
- OK.
I'm not betting on some provincial guy
just coz you say so.
We're betting the last farthing you earned
from the primates at Der Angriff
so that the money can be used
for a good cause after all.
Which is?
The purchase of records,
alcoholic beverages, tobacco.
- Reinhold.
- Charlotte.
- Your betting slip.
- Thank you. What are the odds?
5:1. Your guy is the outsider.
- Who are you betting on?
- The gypsy from Hanover.
- So do we!
- We?
- Detective.
- Mr. Gräf. Mr. Jacoby.
I heard you gave up your side job?
I heard so did you.
You can't juggle too many balls at once.
It confuses the metabolism.
Thanks to Reinhold, I can hope that a
well-placed bet saves my existence.
- Do you know about boxing?
- No.
Is this the serious public announcement
of long-hidden amourous dealings
which we should toast with a drink?
Is this confidential
or am I speaking to the press?
The only journalist
present is unemployed.
Dear boxing friends,
please take your seats.
- The interview needs postponing.
- Yes, please. Where are you sitting?
In the pit, block one, row two.
High society seats. How come?
- Connections.
- We are standing.
- In the circle block 14.
- That's right. This way. See you later.
See you.
Is that him?
With whom do I have the honor?
Wendt, Councilor.
The airship is about to take off.
Let me board.
You won't be boarding this zeppelin.
We have a few questions
which you won't be answering in this hall.
What am I charged with?
Confiscate the briefcase.
Give me the key.
That's not possible.
Who are you?
McFarland, military attaché
of the American embassy.
What is going on?
This man won't be able
to leave the country for now.
I don't think you can stop him.
He is traveling on behalf
of the American government.
What?
Surely you don't want
to violate my diplomatic immunity,
Councilor.
Only if you want
to provoke an international crisis.
Thank you, General.
If you would excuse me now...
Goodbye, Major.
Ladies and gentlemen,
please take your seats now.
The main fight will begin
in a few minutes.
Germany to the Germans,
Germany to the Germans...
Do you know them?
In front on the left, close to the ring
they've planted themselves,
the scoundrels.
- Another one.
- How many?
Sixty, seventy, maybe more.
They're pulling the gypsy bullshit.
I'll turn them.
That's what you imagine, do you?
Wait and see.
Off we go.
You'll blow him away.
Ladies and gentlemen,
dear friends of boxing.
Welcome to the Sportspalast in Berlin
for the main fight of tonight.
Please welcome both of the boxers.
We have 15 rounds
of cruiser weight tonight.
Germany to the Germans...
That's him!
Germany to the Germans...
Focus. Don't get distracted
and no shenanigans, get it? Good.
First, I'll introduce the boxer
in the white pants.
Our local hero from Berlin, Willy Bolze.
His opponent in the black pants,
from Hanover, Johann Trollmann.
The referee of this fight
is Joseph Krause from Berlin.
Gypsy! Little finger, whole hand
Gypsies out of our land!
- Be quiet!
- Gypsy friends or what?
I'll come over!
You know the rules.
I expect a fair, clean fight.
Shake hands and go to your corners.
The two athletes have met before, two
years ago. Back then, it was a draw...
in Spichernsälen for a fight between
Willy Bolze and Johann Trollmann.
- Clear the ring!
- And we start with the first round.
Willy Bolze, the battering ram
from Rixdorf,
the ruffian from Berlin
with a rather rustic technique,
and on the other side is Johann
Trollmann. He dances and jumps,
he's known for his unusual technique,
left jab here, right jab there, he
changes his leading hand every second,
ladies and gentlemen.
He is dancing around Bolze.
Bolze is trying to hit him
and use his power to his advantage.
And there's a hit.
Trollmann is going for it.
- He's aggressive in this first duel.
- Well done, Rukeli!
Bravo! Bravo!
Bolze is on the ground.
A direct hit by Trollmann.
One, two, three, four...
Bolze is getting up again,
with a determined gaze
and his heart in his hand
he is going back into the fight.
Trollmann is waiting for him.
Again, they are dancing around
each other. Trollmann of course...
Is this seat free?
Why, of course.
It would be my pleasure.
Are you leaving Berlin for longer?
Maybe.
But there is something...
holding you back.
Family affairs.
Madame Korda,
your table is ready now.
- It was a pleasure, Mr...
- Goldstein.
Abe Goldstein.
Esther.
And now to Moscow, Comrade?
The embassy will do for now.
Just a few seconds left of round four,
and if it goes on like this,
Bolze won't be leaving the ring
on his own feet tonight.
The bell saves the local hero.
But slowly, enthusiasm is building
for the agility, the flexibility,
the speed of the dark-skinned outsider.
Did you hear?
- Lower the cover and then a hook.
- Bolze, Bolze...
That's it, Willy!
You've got him!
- Yes!
- Get out of the corner!
It's an open exchange of blows.
But Trollmann is not discouraged.
Gypsy!
Trollmann lands one blow after the other,
apparently with rage in his belly.
For the second time,
Bolze is on the floor.
That hit home. The Berliner is having
a hard time getting up again.
Have the people in charge
been held accountable?
They got what they deserved, yes.
What about you?
How come you are off the New York?
I'm hiding home.
Home? Didn't say
you were a Russian spy?
That's true.
But not for the communists.
Mister Kulanin?
Your table is ready. Number four.
My table? I didn't reserve
a table for tonight.
Yes, the young man is waiting for you.
Any useful advice for me, my friend?
Don't ever believe your own lies.
Round eight has begun at Sportpalast
in Berlin, ladies and gentlemen.
The local hero is faltering,
he's teetering.
He tries to hide his drowsiness.
But it would take a miracle to save him.
- What's the matter with you?
- That's unfair!
Yuck! Gypsy pig, get lost!
Go home!
Gypsy, gypsy...
Box!
Trollmann is on the ground, badly hit.
The referee is counting him down.
A moment of confusion could take away
the victory he thought was his.
Trollmann is up again,
but he's teetering, he is rocking like
a boat on Lake Wannsee,
but he is determined to keep fighting.
He's approaching Bolze again,
tries to hit him.
And there is the bell, interrupting
this furious counter-attack.
It was a heavy punch,
ladies and gentlemen,
hitting him unexpectedly
like a bolt out of the blue.
Gypsy, gypsy...
What's the matter? Trollmann looks like a
master baker, all white like a ghost.
Did he fall into a bucket...
The audience is thrilled to bits.
Trollmann delivers punch on punch.
Apparently with rage in his belly.
Oh yes. Something has been building
up in Johann "Rukeli" Trollmann.
He's obviously going the whole hog now.
One, two, three, four...
-Get up!
- Ladies and gentlemen...
...eight, nine, ten!
That's it!
Trollmann!
Rukeli, Rukeli...
Hey, what do you want?
Do you want to crown the twerp now?
Gereon. Gereon!
I'll be right back.
Get your people out of here, dammit!
If you rig the fights in favor of this
antisocial rabble,
you shouldn't be surprised
about the trouble!
Get lost.
Right now.
The whole gang.
Men! Comrades!
We're leaving.
8Forward march! This is an order!
Ladies and gentlemen, we have a
winner through knock-out in round nine.
Johann "Rukeli" Trollmann!
Everything all right?
How much did we win?
Don't know.
- But we'll blow it all now.
- Fine. Let's go.
Hey, look. It's Emil!
- That's him.
- Emil Engels.
Two schnapps.
I almost forgot.
A ring?
Gennat says hi.
A second chance. If you want.
Tomorrow is tomorrow. Now is now.
And now... I want to dance.
Fine.
A dance?
Life, is it but a dream?
It would be nice, I doubt
That it's true
Be careful, it's easily forgotten
The truth is very simple
Nothing remains as it is
A day like gold
You have everything you want
A night... it couldn't be better
Greetings to Moscow,
Paris and Vienna
We wave to you
Everyone is coming to Berlin
Everything shrill, everyone wants it
They all knew all along that we're crazy
A day like gold
What remains will be declared
A shimmer,
what do I care about balances
Let's dance
Bravo!
Are you ready?
I'll do it.
On my own.
I hear you want me dead.
No.
Isn't that why you've come here, Gereon?
To see me die?
No. Not anymore.
It's over.
Our pact.
It ends here.
I'm not afraid anymore.
The source of my fear...
It has run dry.
Then you've reached your goal.
Come and see.
Look at it.
They are waiting.
The ill-treated masses.
Now you are ready to lead them.
Gereon!