All language subtitles for Der Zauberberg 1982 Hans W Geissendorfer - Movie 2

The Magic Mountain

Episode 2

What are you doing here?
Didn't you read the house rules?

- Sorry, but in there--
- Rules are rules!

No excuses, please!
Now get to bed!

Say, Director Behrens,
don't you paint sometimes?

Oh, my!

Excuse me, but I heard....

People are mentioning
that you paint in oil.

Well, we're all human
and have our weaknesses.

So I don't deny it.

- Landscapes?
- As many as you like.

Landscapes, still life, animals.

A fellow like me shrinks
from absolutely nothing.

- But no portraits?
- But, no, no.

Why, do you want to commission me
for one?

- No, no, but I was thinking--
- Curiosity, huh? Curiosity!

Just come with me,
before you catch a cold out here.

So....

Come in, please.

One moment.
I’ll turn the light on.

So....

That is the Gischmar Tal.

I was born nearby.
It's my home.

That is the Zertig Tal.

That is my deceased wife.

She also had lung problems.

She died up here.

Since then, I am here.

Wait, wait.
I’ll turn the light on for you.

One moment.

I know this face.

Do you recognize her?

Yes, that's....

That's the woman
from the Good Russian table...

...as she lives and breathes.

Did you ever notice
the way she walks?

Her face is just like her walk.

She is a slinker.

Look at her skin!

Her skin here.

Is it lifelike, or not especially so,
in your opinion?

Terribly.

Terribly lifelike.

I don't think I've ever seen skin
that was painted that well.

You almost think
you feel the person.

I'm glad.
I'm glad you like it.

The human hide there
is a matter of science.

Yes, science, that is important.

I want to say.... I mean, I think it
is good if the artistic relationship

is joined by a second one,
when you see things, so to speak,

from a different point of view.

For example, a medical one.

Basically, these are all variations
of one and the same interest,

of which the artistic activity
is merely one part of expression,

if I may put it that way.

Pardon me, I took this painting
off the wall.

Over there at the window wall
it doesn't get any light. You’ll see.

I mean to say.... What exactly
is medical science concerned with?

I understand nothing about it, but its
main concern is with human beings.

And it's the humanistic professions,
where art and science are intermixed,

in so far as its main theme
is human beings.

Wouldn't it look so much better
over here?

Sure, if you think it can tolerate
so much light.

How about a small glass
before bedtime?

What are you doing now?

I'm just going to lean it
against the wall.

For the moment,
it's a good place for it.

Well, that's a small tool
for single gentlemen.

I usually keep it locked up so that
nobody is ruining their eyes with it.

It was given to me as a gift
by a patient, an Egyptian princess.

I hope you are not offended by it.

No, no, it doesn't bother me.

One could even view it in earnest or
in a ceremonial light, if one likes.

The ancients are said
to have decorated their coffins

with things like this.

The obscene and the sacred
were the same for them.

Well, as far as the princess goes,
she was given more to the former.

Cheers.

Cheers.

The female shape, so that is fat?

You mean the curves?
Yes, that is fat.

The thickest and fattest parts
are the female breasts and abdomen

and the upper thighs.

In short, everywhere you find
a little something of interest

for your hand and heart.

What is the body?

What is the flesh?

Water.

The dry substance
only amounts up to 25%,

of which 20% is ordinary protein

to which just a little fat
and salt is then added.

And what about the protein?
What is it?

Carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, oxygen,
sulfur, and some more.

For example, the myosin molecules

become adherent to protein in
the muscles and cause rigor mortis.

Ah, yes, rigor mortis.
Very good, yes.

And then comes the autopsy,
the anatomy of the grave.

So, if one is interested in life,

it's death one is particularly
interested in.

Then I always have to think
of my childhood,

my childhood in Russia, you know.

Dear guests.

My dear fellow patients.

Today, just like every year,

we are here to present a gift
to our admired master,

Director Behrens.

This year again we have selected
a present for you, dear Director,

which we will present
to you now together.

- Please blindfold the Director.
- Blindfold me? That's nonsense!

I'm just going to turn to the side
or close my eyes. Wouldn't that work?

- But, no!
- Come on!

Where are you going?

And now, dear Doctor,
you will have to kneel down.

Very well, then!

And now put your head here.

- Yes, yes.
- Very well.

Voilà, now he is blind.
You can start.

Silence.

Now you can open
your eyes again, Doctor.

Music, please.
It helps to fall asleep.

This new sport
is outrageous carelessness!

Didn't you hear me?

I ordered flowers for Leitla Gerngross
in your name and mine.

I think that's embarrassing.

Well, I think that somebody
should care a little

about the acute cases
and the dying left in solitude.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Did you see what my parents
brought me?

I wanted one for so long.

If I were a Little bird

And had two wings

I would fly to you

Yes?

Good day, Director.

Well, yes, you did a proper bit
of courting there.

I like that about you.

I didn't court her,

but acted out of protest against
the prevailing egotism up here.

That's good, too,
and either way it's fine.

In any case, I like it that you are
taking on my little lung-whistlers

in their cages.

No, it's a nice trait.

Of course.

To be continued soon
in this movie theater....

Thank you for bringing me here.

I have a suspicion that you are
just courting this shrinking violet

as a substitute for a woman you
evidently don't know how to approach.

Is it true that he is feeding
the fat Mallinckrodt with porridge

out of pure charity?

Well, he decided to assist
the hard cases and the dying a little.

Director Behrens and others
are supporting this decision.

Too bad that Madame Chauchat
isn't a morbid one.

Then your cousin would have
fewer problems with her,

and he could feed her porridge, too.

I beg you, please!

Many serious cases have danced
their way to eternity

on this dance floor,

haemorrhaging one last time.

Here it is.

This is it.

This is mine.

My grave.

We are now approaching one
of the first specials of the evening.

Dr. Krokowski will enter the arena.

In which costume, however,
he didn't disclose to me.

Three charming examples
of the sanitarium's long-term living:

Herr Ferge, Fräulein Engelhart and
the oldest among us, our Olga Tritow!

Olga, Olga, Olga!

Olga, Olga, Olga!

And now, ladies and gentlemen,
Herr Wehsaal and Frau Magnus,

arriving directly from the graves
of the Davos cemetery.

You were saying something
about a Lilith before.

Which Lilith did you mean?

Was she married twice?

Lilith, a figure
from a Hebraic legend.

This Lilith became a wraith
and haunted young men at night.

And do you know why?

Because she has very beautiful,
full long hair, Giovanni.

How disgusting,
a wraith with beautiful hair.

You simply can't stomach things
Like this, can you?

And so here you come and turn
the lights back on, so to speak,

so you can set young men
back on the right path.

I ask you please, Engineer,
not to use the informal.

I didn't address you
with the informal.

Don't even think
that you can do that!

It's Mardi Gras!

It's a common practice
on an evening like this.

I will address you informally,

even though I have to overcome
my own resistance.

But I’ll give myself a poke,
with all my heart.

With all your heart?

We've been up here together
for so long now.

Seven months, if you stop to count,
and I think it's time to thank you.

Thank you for having been
so kind as to look after me

for the past seven months.

I empty my glass
in honour of your pedagogic efforts.

Engineer!

Engineer!

My good Engineer,
whatever has gotten into you?

Those sound like words of farewell.

No, why should it be farewell?

Hans!

Ah, Fräulein Engelhart.

I was looking for you.

You might miss out on the punch.

Come.

So, ladies and gentlemen,
since you insist, here's a skit.

This won't work.
That's not even a pencil.

It's way too short.
That's no pencil!

Does anyone have a pencil?

A pencil?

A pencil? A pencil?

Do you have a pencil?

A pencil?

I need a pencil!

A pencil! A pencil!
Do you have a pencil?

Joachim, a pencil! A pencil!

- A pencil! I have to draw!
- Engineer!

A pencil? A pencil?

Engineer! A little bit of reason!
Engineer!

I need a pencil!
I have to draw!

Engineer!

This boy is crazy!

What are you looking for?

Please....

Please, may I borrow a pencil?

I will check.

Maybe there is one in my handbag.

Voilà!

Be sure to give it back to me.

It seems like an eternity since
we've been sitting here like this.

It is a dream I know well
and have dreamed for a long time.

Yes, eternally sitting here
with you as I am now.

Nice words.

But, say, surely it wouldn't have been
that hard to dream this dream earlier.

Eternity is like drawing a piglet

with your head turned away
and your eyes closed.

You seem quite at home in eternity,
at least that's what I think.

But this eternity won't last that much
Longer because I'm leaving.

Are you cured, then?

No.

But since my condition
is not improving,

Behrens thinks that a little change
of air would do me good.

- Will you be coming back?
- Maybe.

I have the freedom to choose
where to go.

I love freedom above all.

It was taken from me temporarily
through my marriage,

but my illness gave it back to me.

I may well return.

But you probably will be far from here
Long before that.

So you know how sick I am?

Yes and no.
I only know what people say.

I heard about a little moist spot
there inside, right here,

and a bit of fever.

100.2!

- Well....
- Such a fever!

Ah, you think I'm here
out of pleasure!

No.

That's not how I am.

What do you think of me?

Conventional, from a good family,
a docile pupil to his teachers.

I'm the exact opposite of you.

Virtue bores me.

And if there is morality, I'd rather
search for it in sin, in danger,

or in whatever can harm me,
what destroys us.

Yes, it seems more moral
to lose oneself

and let oneself be ruined
than to save oneself.

I know you disapprove of what I say,

since you will soon return
to the flatlands

in order to help your fatherland
become more powerful

and increase his glory.

Voilà. There you have your own
photograph from both of us,

a portrait in time,
taken without a camera.

It lacks some of the details
that Behrens found there.

Ah, doctors always find
what they want to find.

No, Clawdia.

The fever in my body, the vehement
pounding of my exhausted heart,

the change in my lymph glands,
it is nothing but my love for you.

It overwhelmed me
the instant I laid eyes on you,

the love that I knew
before I knew you.

And it's obvious to me now that
it is this love that has led me here.

What foolishness.

My love for you has been within me
for many years now.

I've already known you
for a short eternity,

you and your beauty.

Your slanted eyes,
your mouth, your voice.

And from this time, the scarred spot
that Behrens found in my lung,

proves that I was sick even then.

The carnival is over.

You know the consequences of it,
monsieur.

I love you.

I have always loved you.

For you are the "intimate you"
of my life,

my dream, my need,
my eternal desire.

My little bourgeois.

My little bourgeois
with the small moist spot.

Is it true that you love me so much?

The body, love, death
are simply one and the same.

The body is sickness and depravity.
It is what produces death.

Love and death are the source
of their cruel magic.

Love is mystic, and nobility
and piety and eternity.

Ah, ravishing organic beauty,

not done in oils or stone, but made
of living and corruptible matter,

full of the feverish secret
of life and decay!

Consider the marvellous symmetry
of the human frame,

the shoulders, the hips, the breasts
as they blossom at each side,

and the ribs arranged in pairs,

and the navel set amid
the supple belly,

and the dark sexual organs
between the thighs!

Consider the shoulder blades shifting
beneath the silky skin of the back,

and the spine descending into the
doubled luxuriance of the buttocks,

and the great network of veins
and nerves that branch out,

and the way the structure of the arms
corresponds to that of the leg.

Oh, the sweet inner surface of
the elbow and the hollow of the knee,

with their abundance of organic
delicacies beneath the padded flesh!

What an immense festival of death
with no weeping afterward!

Good God, let me smell the odour
of the skin on your knee,

beneath which the segmented
capsule secretes its slippery oil!

Let me touch in devotion
your pulsing femoral artery

where it emerges at the top
of your thigh and then divides farther

into the two arteries of the tibia!

Let me take in the exhalation
of your pores and brush the down,

water and protein of
the human image, destined to die!

Let me perish....

My lips against yours!

Please, please kiss me!

You are indeed a gallant suitor,

one who knows how to woo
in a very profound, German way.

Good-bye, my Carnival Prince!

Don't forget to return my pencil.

Are you cured now for good,
Herr Settembrini?

No, my sentence is life.
I mean, I have to stay here forever.

I've known it for some time now.

Sure, I can still get very old,
but unfortunately only up here.

But then you have to stay here.

Of course I'm staying here.

But unfortunately,
my precarious situation

doesn't allow for a luxury cell
for that many years.

Well, that's the way it is.

So, I will be lodging with Lukaek,
the tailor, in the village.

Please come and visit me some time.

For you

Cause of death:
Final haemorrhage due to heart failure.

Time of death: 6:45 a.m.

Notify the relatives
of Dr. Blumenkohl.

Quiet!

Time is active to change time.

Since that Mardi Gras night

when Hans Castorp borrowed
a pencil from Madam Chauchat,

nine weeks have passed.

Three times as long as Hans Castorp
originally wanted to stay up here.

The only thing the simple young man
had retrieved

from his hour
of deepest adventure, however,

had been the approaching possibility
that Frau Chauchat would return

for a further stay.

It doesn't mean anything.
Don't worry, Peter.

Just eat and drink and be well
until we return.

And we will take care of ourselves,
too, and stay away from grief.

God will bring the autumn
before we know it,

and then both of us
will already be back.

Come on.

Good-bye.

Good day, ladies and gentlemen.

I hope you are enjoying the food.

Good day.

Why don't you take a little gravy?
Then your food will go down better.

You should take better care
of your cousin.

He's become so unapproachable
during the last few weeks

since Madame Chauchat
isn't here anymore.

This fluid will lower your fever.

In three to four months...

...you’ll be fit as a fiddle.

I'm still thinking back
on this one evening last fall.

It was highly interesting.

When I was permitted a look
at Frau Chauchat's portrait

and the first-class way
you painted the skin.

But at the time, I didn't know
the model, or just by sight.

Since then, shortly before her recent
departure, I made her acquaintance,

conversationally.

That was probably a critical area that
you happened to hit there, Director.

Cute, right.

- Does she write you now and then?
- Who?

- Frau Chauchat.
- Heaven forbid!

She'd never think of it. First,
because she's too lazy to write.

She's sure to come back,
sooner or later.

But if your cousin should leave us,
as he threatened to do,

because he wants to wear his saber,

he won't come back, but fall apart
from your mind-heavy fog in Hamburg.

You should take care of him a little,
so he doesn't do anything foolish.

I'm only interested in one thing.

When can I finally do what I want
and what I'm good at?

But you could be interested
in astrology.

Definitely more
than your Russian grammar.

Especially since you are studying
Russian without any good purpose.

I mean, Marusja is gone, and....

Excuse me, I forgot
the knowledge of Russian

would always be a great advantage
for you, of course,

if there should be a war,
which God forbid.

You're talking like a civilian.

War is necessary.

Without war, the world would soon
go to rot, as Moitke said.

Yes, it has that tendency.

Oh, look, isn't that...?

Hello, Herr Settembrini!

I didn't even have a chance
to say good-bye

when you moved out the other day.

Ah, my good Engineer.

In his sporty walk,
he is crossing the meadow.

I have to say
what a delightful sight this is.

I can only advise you to get active.

Excuse me, may I introduce
Herr Naphta, Giovanni Castorte?

- He is an engineer--
- I was a technician in the flatlands.

And you want to be a technician again
as soon as possible

and work as much as you can, right?

Excuse me, Joachimo Ziemssen, the
praised hope of the Prussian military

and a mountain refugee in spirit

since he had to undergo
his first day here.

As I told you earlier, Herr Naphta,

these two gentlemen have
a burning desire to work again.

Ah, the hope
of the Prussian military.

Tell me, German soldier, I'm sure
you're interested in politics.

No, even though we were just talking
about war before.

My cousin thinks that war

is necessary
for the progress of humankind.

In principle, that is true.

Because what good would politics be
if it didn't give people

the opportunity
to make moral compromises.

What you have said is cynical.

You're determined to interpret
democracy's noble endeavours

as mere political cunning.

Indeed political cunning.

They are nothing but the last,

feeble twitches
of an instinct for self-preservation.

The little rest a doomed
internationally system still has.

The catastrophe will,
and indeed, must follow.

The capitalist Europe wants its fate
and should get it.

One believes war is inevitable, if one
does not loathe it sufficiently,

Professor Naphta.

So, how did you like him?

The little fellow?
Not very well.

He's a dubious character.
Besides, his nose is Jewish.

And only Semites
have such puny physiques.

Do you seriously plan
to keep in touch with him?

But of course.

Maybe we can learn something
from him.

What we are to do is to get healthy,
not more clever.

Healthier....

So they can finally let us go free...

...and send us back to the flatlands.

Freedom dwells upon the mountains

"Freedom is the law of
brotherly love," Settembrini said.

And even though this sounds brave,
I have the impression that Settembrini

is afraid of something
the little Naphta is not afraid of.

Do you think Settembrini has enough
courage to lose himself

or to let himself be ruined?

What are you speaking French for?

Oh, just because.

Voilà.

You're badly mistaken
if you believe that future revolutions

will end in freedom.

In the last 500 years the principle
of freedom didn't just get fulfilled,

but it also outlived itself.

I would say a pedagogue that regards
itself as liberal and humanistic

is sublimely backward.

All great educators
have always known

that there can only be one
central truth in any pedagogy,

and that is absolute authority,
an ironclad bond,

discipline and sacrifice,

renunciation of the ego,
and coercion of the personality.

It is ultimately a cruel understanding
of youth to believe

it will find its heart's desire
in freedom,

in choices, and in an abundance
of possibilities.

Its deepest desire is to obey.

The liberation and development
of the individual

are the secrets
and the command of time.

What our age needs....

What it demands,
and what it will create for itself...

...is terror.

The agent of this terror will be
people who create a social theory

whose principles and goals coincide

exactly with those
of the Christian City of God.

The Church fathers called
"mine" and "yours" pernicious words,

described private property
as thievery.

They learned that the law
of private ownership

only led to greed and injustice.

They despised the capitalistic
principle as a seducer to inhumanity.

Today the world's proletariat opposes
the decadent bourgeois-capitalist rot

with the humanity of the City of God.

The proletariat has taken up
the word of the fathers.

Its work is terror,
that the world may be saved

and the goal of redemption
be achieved,

a society without states and classes.

Midsummer’s Night.

Midsummer’s Night.

This picture was a gift
from one of my students.

It is not very good.

I like it anyway.

They are celebrating
the first night of summer,

which is actually
the beginning of autumn.

Why are they so merry?

Because they are now
headed back down into the dark?

I know why.

The turning point has come.

The unstoppable turning point.

Midsummer's Night.

The high point
with mirth and melancholy.

That is mirthful melancholy.

They are dancing
out of constructive despair.

They are being led around
by the nose, in a circle,

by the promise of something
that is just another turning point.

And eternity that has no definite
direction is not "straight ahead,"

but rather "merry-go-round"!

Enough, Engineer, silence!

Educate yourself,
but don't produce yourself!

I would be happy to see you again
soon, Herr Castorp.

I won't allow that, as long as you
don't clearly and unmistakably admit

that you avow yourself to the darkest
reaction, Professor Naphta.

If one wants to avow oneself
to freedom and humanity,

the first step should be
to rid oneself of the term "reaction."

Ah, that is enough!
Come on, my good Engineer!

- Thank you for the delicious cake.
- Herr Castorp.

Come on.

One moment.

Excuse me.

Hello, Herr Lukaek.

I have a little question.

Go ahead!

Please, not so loud.

Do you remember a customer
from the Berghof Sanitarium?

About four, five months ago.
A young Russian woman.

She ordered a black silk dress
from you, without sleeves.

Yes, yes.

Yes, a very good customer.

Do you mean Madame Chauchat?

Yes, her.
I think that was her name.

And what about her?

What about her? No, nothing.

I thought maybe she still orders
clothes from you,

and you might know her address.

Sorry, I can't help with that.

Didn't hear anything again
after the black sleeveless.

Did you like the dress?

- Come on, now, my good Engineer.
- Yes, very good.

Thank you very much.

Come on, my good Engineer.

Come on, come quick.

Careful, don't bump your head!

Please come in, my good Engineer.

I would like to warn you, Engineer.

Warn me about what?

About the person
whose guests we just were.

Did you know that
this man is a Jesuit?

What?

- This man's a Jesuit?
- Yes, you've guessed it.

A Jew converted to Catholicism,
believe me.

He is a brother of the Jesuit order,
off duty, because he is sick.

He really is just as sick as I am.
But he is a dangerous reactionary.

I see, I see.

Nevertheless, just as Naphta,
you're trying to force me

into a way of thinking
that seems right to you.

All I can say is
politics spoils the character.

Ah, there must be a few fools
at your home that are claiming that,

but everything is politics,
even the social problem.

The coexistence
with neighbours is politics.

Everything is politics!

Dear friend, in the near future,

we're expected to make decisions
for the future of Europe.

You and everybody else
have to face these decisions,

otherwise your soldier cousin
and the likes of him

will step in front of you
and your silence

to solve the problems at gunpoint.

Yes, the damn libido.

The whole affair
is great sport for you,

but the director of a sanitarium....

Vesicular.

He gets a noseful.

In any case, I expelled all of them.

Nöiting...

...the Greek and the jealous
girlfriend of Fräulein Nöiting.

Vesicular.

Who started a terrible rage to find
her girlfriend with the Greek?

I'm sorry, gentlemen,
but I've had enough.

Slight roughness.

And before you know what's
happened, you're running a cathouse.

It's better over here.

The sound is gone.

I'm quite aware that young folks
go to the dogs too easily here,

and I used to take occasional
measures against it, but then....

Weak rattling, top right.

Then some lad or lover looked me
straight in the eye and asked

what business it was of mine.

Since then, I've been only a doctor.

Vesicular.

Well, Ziemssen, keep your chin up.

Things are still not quite the way
we find them in a medical textbook,

but no reason to be down.

- Another five or six months.
- Director Behrens, I would like--

If you do your duty here

for another half year or so,
then your career is made.

You can take Constantinople.

You’ll be robust enough
to bust the entire Prussian regiment.

Director Behrens, I wish to report
that I have decided to depart.

Do you know that's desertion of duty?

No, that is not how I see it,
Director Behrens.

I have to return to my regiment.
I've been here for a year and a half.

I can't wait any longer.

I have to go back down.

No matter what the risk?

Yes, Director Behrens.

Fine, Ziemssen.

Go ahead, leave.
God be with you.

You're taking over, and
the responsibility is no longer mine

when you do take over.

Man is master of his fate.
You travel at your own risk.

I wash my hands.

But yours is a fresh-air profession.

It may very well be that it does you
good, and you’ll make the grade.

Yes, Director Behrens.

Well, and what about you, the young
member of the civilian population?

I suppose you want to go along?

I would rather make that dependent
on your approval, Director.

My approval? Fine.

You may leave.

Why?

Am I cured?

Yes, you are cured.

Your temperature had obviously
nothing to do with it.

You may leave.

But, Director Behrens,
you're not really serious, are you?

Not serious? Why?

What would make you think that?

What sort of person
do you suppose I am?

What do you take me for,
the owner of a cathouse?

I won't stand for it!

I don't own anything here!
I'm merely an employee! I'm a doctor!

I'm only a doctor,
do you understand?

I'm not anyone's procurer.

And if you plan to wait here
for the creeping return

of your Russian mistress,
then do so down in the village.

I'm Signor Amoroso working
the Toledo in beautiful Naples.

I serve suffering humanity.

And if you have formed
a different opinion of me,

both of you can go to hell,
to pot, or to the dogs,

take your pick!

Bon voyage!

Well, superiors
throw temper tantrums.

The only thing to do
is to maintain perfect composure

and let it pass right over you.

Did you see how he capitulated
when he realized that I was serious?

All you have to do is show your spunk
and not let them get the upper hand.

Now I've been given permission
more or less.

Officer Ziemssen,
you are released for work.

Don't you want to pack?

- This is where I arrived.
- Yes, so you did.

Well, you're finally leaving me
up here, where I came to visit you.

Make sure you swear
that fervent oath of allegiance.

I intend to.

Say hello to everybody.

Hans!

Hans, come soon.

A telegram for you.

Please read it.

Arriving tomorrow evening. 6 p.m.
Davos-Dorf. Uncle Tienappel.

Fine, lovely.

Is there a room available
for Herr Tienappel?

I think the room of your departed
cousin is still available.

I will find out.

Well, my boy, there you are.
Hello.

Let me take a look at you.

And you want to tell me
that you are still sick?

You look splendid, and I'm
very satisfied to find that out.

- Hello, Uncle Tienappel.
- Your baggage voucher, please.

Of course.

- Here you are.
- Thank you.

I have a carriage here.

I can only stay one week.

Seven days, perhaps even only six.

But I strongly assume that you’ll be
returning home with me after that,

won't you?

Well, let's not be reckless
about this.

You're talking like someone
from down below has to talk.

The air is excellent.

Really, excellent!

Well, it's not world-famous
for nothing.

It can heal latent illnesses
carried within everyone

but brings them first
to an exuberant eruption

due to the air's organic impetus
and stimulus.

- Exuberant?
- But of course.

Did you never notice that
there is something exuberant

about the eruption of illness,
as if the body is celebrating?

Yes, but of course, to be sure.

You have to be here for a while,

Look around, settle in,
and you’ll see things differently.

The point was total cure.
Totality is the decisive factor.

Behrens recently saddled me
with another six months.

My boy, have you gone crazy?

A vacation of a year and a quarter,
and now another six months!

In God's name, a man doesn't have
all that much time!

Time.

I will have a serious discussion
about this

with the director tomorrow morning.

Do that. You’ll like him.

Well, my boy....

Now tell me, what is really going on
with your health?

My case is modest, but chronic, so
everybody at home can calm down.

But it always depends
on how things turn out.

It could be that the irritation
to the cell of the tissue in the lung

and the air sacks of the lungs caused
by the bacillus will stop the disease.

It also could be that ever-larger
soft foci could build up,

creating extending cavities
that would destroy the entire organ.

Then there is an accelerated
or galloping form of this process,

which could lead to one's exodus
within a few months, even weeks.

Director Behrens will perform
a lung resection

on a recently arrived serious case,
a once attractive Scottish woman,

to stop a gangrene of the lungs

that created a blackish-green
infection inside her.

She has breathed
a vaporized solution

of carbolic acid all day long

just to keep from losing her mind
in revulsion at her own body.

I have to tell you
about an incredible young thing,

a so-called chansonette, that
is currently appearing in St. Pauli

and whose charm knocked the breath
out of all the gentlemen

in our home city-state.

So....

Ah, the visitor of Herr Castor,
the uncle.

Nice to meet you.

Tienappel, Hamburg.

Dr. Krokowski, Davos.

Are you here as a patient?

But of course.

Of course not.

As a visitor.

He is completely healthy.
He will only be here for a week.

I came here with the intent
to actively check up on things

and to break away
this belated young man from here

and to deliver him back to his home.

Well, then get to work.

But you should know that you
are operating on foreign soil here.

Good night.

But of course, to be sure.

Naturally.

How was your first night?

Sleep well? Excellent?

Or did the air trouble you?

Thank you for asking.
I didn't have any problems.

Slept like a dead man.

The long journey
probably did its part.

The physicians.

Good morning,
Ladies and gentlemen, morning.

- Did you sleep well?
- Thank you.

Morning.
Sleep well, yes?

I'm glad.

- Director, I wanted to ask you--
- I’ll be right back.

- Good morning, Director Behrens.
- Morning.

Morning, gentlemen.
Sleep well?

Doctor Behrens, my uncle,
James Tienappel, from Hamburg.

Ah, happy to meet you.

That was a tip-top notion,
to come up here

and provide this lonely boy
some company.

Which is also in your own interest,
since you're completely anaemic.

Anaemic? Me, James Tienappel?

But, yes, first-class case.

It would be a very clever move
to recline here comfortably

on a balcony for a few weeks

and emulate the fine example
set by your nephew.

In your condition, one could do
nothing wiser than to live for a while

as if one had a light case
of tuberculosis pulmonum.

- But of course, naturally.
- Dear gentlemen, good morning.

Afterwards, take your walk and put
your mercury cigars in your mouth.

You should measure as well,
Herr Tienappel.

Never hurts to measure.

Morning, ladies and gentlemen.

Morning, everyone.

I’ll give you one of my blankets.

Good.

Well, my boy, you've already
mastered that perfectly.

You sent for me?
Am I right here, room 33?

That's right, room 33.

So what it is?

My uncle, Herr Tienappel,

would like to make an appointment
with Director Behrens.

- A discussion?
- Yes, preferably today, if I may.

What are you thinking, dear child?

You have to be a little more patient.

The director is busy.

Surgeries, check-ups, the suffering
humankind take precedence,

according to Christian principles,
child.

And you, you're supposedly healthy,
aren't you?

But of course.

It would be a different matter

if you wished to have
a general examination.

Look at me for a moment.

Look at me.

Eye to eye.

Yours are a little dull
and have a flicker.

Child.

It doesn't appear to me
that all is so "spotless" with you.

- One moment--
- Don't misunderstand me.

Are you asking for an examination
or for a private discussion?

For the latter, of course,
for a private discussion.

Then you have to wait
until further notice.

The director seldom has time
for private discussions.

Well....

What a terrible person!

"The director seldom has time
for private discussions!"

At least an original person.

Did she sell you
a clinical thermometer?

No. Me, why?
Is she in the business?

I wouldn't be surprised
if she would have.

An absolute original person,
you're right.

Is your heater off as well?

I'm cold.

I'm cold all day long.
Even in bed I was cold.

Say, you have quite
a vegetable garden here.

I'm currently studying botany.

Oh, what is this?

A souvenir.

Oh, pardon me.

As I can see, you're quickly
acclimatizing up here.

I think you have an appointment
with me in six days.

Unfortunately
there is nothing earlier.

But of course, thank you.

Naturally.

Please tell me, Director Behrens,
you studied, right?

You studied the body.

You're a physician,
and not a bad one, so I have heard.

The body is your business, so to say.

Now could you please explain, what
happens when the body decomposes?

First of all, your guts burst.

There you are lying
on your wood shavings and sawdust,

and the gases, you see, swell you up,
blow you up immensely,

the same way naughty boys
blow up frogs.

And finally you're a regular balloon.

Then your abdomen can no longer
take the pressure and bursts. Bang!

You relieve yourself noticeably,

in the same way Judas lscariot did
when he fell from the bough.

Your bowels gush out.

And after that, you're actually
socially acceptable again.

That is called to stink yourself out.

And if you were to go for a stroll,
you'd be quite a fine fellow,

much like the citizens of Palermo
who are hung up

in the Capuchin catacombs
near Porta Nuova.

All you have to do first
is to stink yourself out.

James, we wanted to go to....

James?

"I received a telegram
that requires my immediate return

to the plains on business."

I see.

He turned tail and ran.

That was the end of the attempt
by the flatlands

to reclaim the absent Hans Castorp.

The young man admitted quite openly
to himself that such total failure,

which he had seen coming,

was of decisive importance for his
relationship to the people down there.

For the flatland, it meant a final
shrug, the abandonment of any claim.

For him, however,
It meant freedom finally won.

And by now, his heart
no longer fluttered at the thought.

Nothing was in the way of
Hans Castorp's second winter here.

I can't take the winter anymore.

The brochure guaranteed sun,

and we've already been in fog
for three weeks.

We have the right to some sun.

We basically paid for it.

I love the snow.

The shore or mountains in snow
are almost the same.

The tendency to push
the enthusiastic contact with nature

so far as to risk its total embrace

is much stronger up here
than by the shore.

Not bad.

Now what?

Down across here and then
straight ahead following my nose.

Something needs to happen.

You're talking to yourself,
Hans Castorp.

I think you're a little muddleheaded.

Bad....

Bad, bad.

It's like the experience of someone
Lost in a mountain snowstorm

who doesn't find
his way home anymore.

Someone hearing about it later

imagines how ghastly
it must have been,

but forgets that illness
batters its victims

until they get along with one another.

There is a merciful self-narcosis,

nature's means of relief
that you have to fight against.

A blessing for all those
that don't want to return home...

...but extremely dangerous
for those that want to return home.

I don't intend for one moment to be
covered by stupid crystallometry!

Oh, damned, damned whiteness!

What a curse.

That really is the same cabin
that I just passed.

Only half past four.

I'm not even gone that long.

It was just a dream.

I know we're making up
dreams ourselves.

But how can one do
something Like that.

I will be good.

I don't want to let death
get a hold of my thoughts.

Love is stronger than he ls.

Well....

With that I shall awaken.

With that I've dreamed my dream
to its end.

My heart is beating strong
and knows why.

And not for purely physical reasons,
the way fingernails grow on a corpse.

He probably
was overdoing it last night.

All the young people here
have no shame.

He probably has something
with Fräulein Engelhart.

She doesn't take her eyes off
of him for a second.

Look over there.

A dispatch for you. Excuse me.

Clawdia.

Who is it from?

Did anybody die?

Go ahead, speak up.

Good news or bad?

Both.

It all went quickly,
already ripe for home.

Already ripe for home?

Joachim is coming back.

There you go! What did I say?

Rotten, rotten.

I just hope this thing didn't turn
dear young Ziemssen putrid.

Frau Stöhr!

The body triumphs.

It has other plans than the soul.

It's not Frau Chauchat.

Ziemssen is coming back,
Joachim Ziemssen!

Already after one year.

That doesn't look good.

No, it really doesn't.

Do you remember,
it's exactly two years ago

when you put wild flowers
in my room when I arrived?

You arrived as a visitor.

- Whereas I--
- Ah, just a little post-treatment.

In two or three months you’ll be
back at the front, Herr Lieutenant.

I'm supposed
to extend greetings from--

Yes, I know, from home.

No, from Frau Chauchat.

I met her at the train station
in Munich.

She wanted me to tell you that
she might be back here in winter.

Room 33?

Yes, room 33. Right.

Stay seated, child.

And you, child, what did I hear?

You're coming
for a little extra therapy.

Sore throat, hoarseness, good child.
Let me take a look.

Say, child, did you ever choke
on something?

Did you, or did you not?

Of course I have choked
on something before.

Do you remember
when the last time was?

No, I don't.

Well, it was just a thought.

What are you doing here?

I should have someone give you
a special copy of the house rules.

- Director Behrens, I beg you--
- What do you want?

- I urgently have to talk to you.
- So I've noticed.

You're following me
as if I were some young miss,

or God knows what sort of object
of your affection.

I beg your pardon,
it's about my cousin.

He is being painted now,
I mean his throat.

I'm sure it's harmless, isn't it?

You want everything to be harmless,
Castorp, that's the way you are.

And if you're getting involved
in things that are not harmless,

then you treat them as if they were,

and you think that will ingratiate you
with God and man.

You're something of a coward,
a phony man!

And if your cousin
calls you a civilian,

that's merely a very euphemistic way
of putting it.

There can be no question that I have
my weaknesses of character.

But what I've been trying to ask you
for three days now is--

For me to tell you
the sweet, sugary, diluted truth.

That you can enjoy
your innocent sleep,

while others wake
and let the gale winds blow.

But, Director Behrens,
you're very hard on me.

It's just the opposite, I wanted--

Yes, hard on you,
and it's not up your alley.

Your cousin is a different sort
of fellow. He knows what's what.

He knows and is silent,
do you understand?

He knew what he was doing.

That's a man who knows
how to keep a stiff upper lip,

to keep his mouth shut,
which is a manly art,

but not the sort nice, little bipeds
Like yourself can understand.

And now back to your post.

You know that your tears are merely
an alkaline, salty gland product,

containing mucins and protein.

Herr Ziemssen....

Regard the prescribed times,

take walks of exactly 30 minutes
and then go to the lying treatment.

We have to.

Duty is duty, schnapps is schnapps.
Am I right?

Yes.

We look like drunks,
the way we walk.

Please turn off the light.

It's blinding me.

When the commanding general
gave me my lieutenant's certificate...

...the sergeants
who were under my command...

...and who
I was already familiar with...

...stood up to salute me...

...and I just casually dismissed them.

Listen....

I know the expression,
"First overcome your inhibitions."

And it came to pass in those days

that there went out a decree
from Caesar Augustus....

Now everything is fine.

And this taxing was first made
when Cyrenius was governor of Syria.

And all went to be taxed,
everyone into his own city.

And Joseph also went up
from Galilee,

out of the city of Nazareth,
Into Judaea....

I must immediately....

I must immediately write a petition
for the extension of my vacation.

And so it was, that,
while they were there,

the days were accomplished
that she should be delivered.

And she brought forth
her flrstborn son

and wrapped him
In swaddling clothes

and laid him in a manger,

because there was no room
for them in the lnn.

And there were, in the same country,
shepherds abiding in the field,

keeping watch
over their flock by night.

And, lo, the angel of the Lord
came upon them,

and the glory of the Lord
shone round about them.

And they were so afraid.

And the angel
said unto them, "Fear not.

For, behold, I bring you
good tidings of great joy,

which shall be to all people.

For unto you is born this day
In the city of David a Saviour,

which is Christ the Lord. "

He was a hero!

A hero!

We should play "Erotica."

A very esteemed,
sympathetic young man.

Literary men make
the mistake of thinking

that only the spirit
makes us respectable.

In my opinion,
the opposite is more true.

Only where there is no spirit
are we respectable.

A great kid, a great fellow.

He wanted to force it, you know.

Of course that's the way the service
is down there, all force and violence.

He did his duty with a fever,
come hell or high water.

The field of honour, you know.

Hightailed it for the field of honour
and kept running.

But honour was the death of him,
and death....

Death did him the honour.

A great fellow.