All language subtitles for The.Souffleur.en

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Hotel Intercontinental Vienna:

the first luxury brand hotel
in the world.

And the first one to have
telephones in every bathroom.

A ship with five hundred rooms.

The balconies are the bridges,

and the terraces are the decks.

The cabins open onto the
hallways.

The engines, underground.

And the sea: the ice-skating
rink down below.

They say it's declining,
yellowed and wrinkled.

Nonsense.

This is the house where I live.

And now I find myself
forced to abandon it.

We're doing the best we can.

There's also
a maid strike at the moment.

This has been a
problem for us, but...

We would like
to offer you breakfast.

Yes, we have a lovely
restaurant,

and we'll get your rooms ready
as fast as we can.

I don't want breakfast.
I want my room.

Sir. Sir, do you like painting?

Because there's a very
beautiful museum very close by.

And it's got a wonderful collection
of Rembrandts and Brueghels,

and many beautiful things.

And we might be able to get you
in there before opening hours.

It's a very special time. You
can have all the art to yourself.

I'm the manager of this hotel,
and I'm available to you,

and we'll do our best
to resolve this problem.

Imona is fantastic.

She's our guest service gal,
and...

-I will take care of you.
-She'll take care of you.

Really. We're on it. We
understand.

Thank you for your patience. And
thank you for staying with us.

This is outrageous.
This cannot be happening...

We probably could...

Claus, have you heard
anything more about the sale?

Not too much, to be honest.

But what I hear,
the guy's from Argentina.

Oh.

It's sweet.

It's not the eggs.

We've tried
every chicken farm in Austria.

So...

I'm gonna have to deal
with a cocky Argentinian.

You know, in South America
everybody hates them

because the Argentinians
think they're Europeans.

-Maybe it's the cheese.
-Ugh.

What's his name?

Facundo Ord�nez.

Facundo?
What kind of name is that?

Not a Viennese name...

Sounds like he's full of shit.

You know, I'm sorry.
I can't eat this.

Matthias.

But I am willing to give him
a second chance.

-Yes.
-And that's important.

Otherwise I think it would just
get...

Lilly Glanz. Daughter of Lucius.

Oh!

I see people in uniforms.

Are you Facundo Ordonez?

I learned a few facts
about Facundo Ordonez.

I met people like him.

He was born in Buenos Aires
to a nouveau rich family.

A mediocre art student.

He eats like a pig.

In spite of all this, there are
moments I can't help but like the guy.

Something about the repulsion
gives way to curiosity.

He has some strange fixation
on this place,

a kind of irrational obsession.

He came to Vienna
for the first time as a kid,

on a trip with his parents
in search of his family roots.

He was caught peeing
in a sandwich bag

inside a moving van
near the Hungarian border.

Vienna dazzled him.

They stayed at the
Intercontinental.

He would wander around the
hallways.

These are his first memories.

The smell of pee. The taste of
butter.

He didn't ever want to leave.

He told his parents
he'd rather stay in the hotel.

He was only five years old.

I wonder how it would feel
to punch him in the face.

What's the problem?
Where's Mikhail?

It's beautiful.

-But it doesn't work.
-No.

-No. It won't start?
-No.

Dad, I was looking for you.

There's a call
from Mr. Yanco's office.

Oh, fuck.

Well...

Try whatever you can.

Can I talk to you for a moment?

H-h-how are you?

I'm okay.

-The job? It's okay, right?
-I don't like the job, but...

Don't say that. Don't say that,
because that closes you down.

You gotta be open to experience.

I'm sorry,
but this is a beautiful place,

and, if you open to it, there's
many beautiful things about it.

What I really wanted
to talk to you about is...

Excuse me, may I?

-Mmm.
-Something...

I noticed.

-Ah, easy. Easy.
-Dad.

Honey, honey.

-What do you...?
-No, wait...

What is that? What's that about?

Why do you care?

Why do I care?

-I love you. You're my daughter.
-Hmm.

Okay?

Thank you, Dad, for saying
this...

But I'm not comfortable now...

-I don't understand.
-I'm not comfortable now talking to you.

Okay, okay. Well, when you are
comfortable...

Are you still doing that or is
that something that's over?

We can talk about it. It's...

When? When? Why wait?

I'm here.
I can talk to you about it now.

There were many gatherings
and much joy in this place

with our "familienbande,"
our clan.

Also big dislikes, of course,
and rough times.

There were two long-term
illnesses and there was a death.

But, above all, there was also
a simple but joyful celebration:

the birth of Lilly.

She lived her childhood in the
environment of the hotel.

The staff raised her, you could
say.

The administrative staff,
the barkeepers.

They were socialists.

Goran, Franz, Rene
were the most fervent.

While the head of the laundry
was illiterate and a very adored man,

with aging, he came to lose his
memory and started to mix up the colors.

We had to let him go.

-Hi.
-Hi.

What are you drinking?
It looks interesting.

"B" something? I'm not sure.

Mind if I try?

Very sweet, but strong.

-If I can do anything.
-Thank you very much. Thank you.

-Anytime.
-Lucius.

Hi. It's me, Nicolaia.

Nicolaia Yanco.

Nicolaia Yanco. What...?

Well, it's a pleasure to see you.
I've been waiting for your father.

So, you're traveling with him?

No, not exactly. Dad's not here.

I'm managing the East now.

The East?

Yeah, Vienna and East.

We replaced the drain system
ten years ago.

And since then,
there's never been a problem.

The backup system
is in perfect shape, too.

We test it every month.

Nice work.

I know my father didn't always
show his appreciation,

-Thank you.
-but your hard work didn't go unnoticed.

Thank you.

But... let you know
that the deal will happen.

The hotel will be sold.

And the plans for the renovation
have already been approved.

But I'd be happy to put in a
good word with Facundo.

I'm sure he could really use
someone of your expertise.

No, I'll be fine.

But... what will happen to
Lilly?

Don't worry about Lilly. We'll
make sure she has a place here.

No.

-Who's winning?
-How did it go?

Not bad. It might not happen.

Nice.

Yeah.

We'll see.

But I have a good feeling.

Goran. It's nice to have you
back. How was your vacation?

-It was...
-Sorry.

But even if it does happen, it
could be a good chance to start over.

Maybe in the countryside.
You've always loved the nature.

Hmm.

Mmm...

It's your turn.

Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick,
tick. Tick, tick, tick, tick.

-Time to.
-Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick.

Once I asked a
marionette puppeteer...

"How is it possible that the puppets
can have so many different movements?"

You can move the arms and the
fingers and small parts of the fingers.

"How can you control everything
just with the strings?"

He answered, "I'm not
controlling everything."

I am only concentrating on the
middle.

On the middle point of the puppet,
where his point of equilibrium is.

And then I imagine
the moving of the fingers

or of the legs and everything,

but I'm not controlling
these movements.

I am controlling only the
equilibrium of the puppet.

And, automatically,
if I am concentrating on it,

"the movements will be in
harmony."

-Everybody feels very Argentine here.
-Yeah.

-And I'm sleeping so bad.
-Me too.

I get the feeling
everybody's from Argentina.

But it's something,
I think, with the features.

It's...

Maybe you're starting to feel
home.

So that's a good thing, you
know.

I used to come a lot to Vienna.

I really liked the food and the
people. I have friends.

And somehow I felt this was
really like where, you know,

a lot of what functions in
Argentina

and what doesn't function,
also, somehow belongs here.

But more and more now I feel
like a sense of emptiness.

The human mistake, the
human failure,

it's in everyday life.

I don't like order.
I don't like disorder.

I like a combination of the two.

Some part should be in disorder.

It should not be absolutely
perfect.

Except machines.

But the machines also go wrong.

So, no perfection at all.

Our best customer and long-time
customer was Billy Wilder.

After a short time
when he was here,

the manager said,
"Billy, we have to go."

"Billy, we have to go."

And, and...

Yeah.

Very "sport if".

Yeah. And he always said,
"Billy, we have to go."

Ah...

And...

And Billy didn't hear, and...

after maybe half an hour,

it was not his way,

he said, "You can go, but I
stay."

Hello, skaters, masturbators,
spinach haters!

Facundo is a dope.

In the shower he dropped the
smoke.

I have just one hope.

The thing that makes me cope.

His neck inside a rope.

His things, they go awry,
and the motherfucker dies.

Facundo is a dope.

In the shower
he dropped the smoke.

I have just one hope.

The thing that makes me cope.

His neck inside a rope.

Glanz?

-Right.
-Yes.

-One time.
-Oh, okay.

That's right.
I stayed here last year.

Sample number two.

During an auction in
the Champagne Room,

a collector told me
that Vermeer had a painting

he apparently
loved more than any other.

He did not part with it or sell
it.

Even when he was in debt.

Hitler bought it in 1938
from a man called Czernin,

who had a Jewish wife.

And sample number three.

The painting
was rescued from a salt mine

at the end of the war,

where it was preserved
from Allied bombing raids.

It was supposed to be returned
to Czernin's family,

but the Austrian state claimed
he had sold it in good faith.

And it has hung in the
Kunsthistorisches ever since.

-Shall we?
-Shut up.

-Shut up?
-Yeah.

I talk too much. Okay.

-Just shut up.
-Okay.

What's that smell?

Oh, so good.

And he is just a gangster.

Argentina...

Do you bring me...

Such fucking gangsters.

-There.
-Thank you.

I have a sailboat.

I will retire soon,

and I will spend more time
with my boat.

Too much light. Bad music.

No girls, no suspense.

Other location.

I don't understand.

Franz. How many customers we
get a night?

Oh, about sixty to eighty.

And this man is going to tear
it down.

I'll reimagine it
with a great Korean firm.

You're going to make a cheap
copy.

I would never hurt this bar.

Franz. How about me?

I want a glass too.

Get one for yourself as well.

-Yeah, sure.
-And how much do they spend?

About fifty euros each.

That's like 3,000 a night.

To this special place.

Once I was in Japan.
There's a temple.

During a war in the 18th
century, it caught flames.

In the 20th century, they
rebuilt it.

So I asked them,
"It's not the original,"

and they said, "Yes, it's the
original. The same one."

For them it was the same
building serving the same purpose.

This city was reborn here
as a metropolis.

Reproductions,
representations, apparitions.

Lucius, I don't know how you do
it.

Whether they are nice people
or assholes.

Do you always know you're going
to be able to deal with them?

No, but that's the beauty
of my profession.

When his parents sold
the apartment where he grew up,

Facundo left Buenos Aires for
good.

In 1997, he sailed to Cadiz,
where he found his way as a realtor.

The image of his home torn down
still haunts him.

Dad, this place doesn't need
you.

Not as much as you think, anyways.

But I'll stay with you,
here or somewhere else.

You coming?

No. I'll have a cigarette first.

You smoke too much.

-Good afternoon.
-Good afternoon. Your suit is ready.

Thank you.

My condolences.

Thank you.

These things happen.

Let me show you out.

"In the struggle between yourself
and the world, hold the world's coat."

Yes, yes, yes.

Claus Kartak.

Claus Kartak.

Claus Kartak.

Claus Kartak. Kartak.

Claus Kartak.

Claus Kartak.

Claus Kartak.

Claus Kartak.

Lucius, we found it.

-Imona, what are you doing here?
-Here.

We found the place.

-This way.
-How do I get to you?

-You found it?
-This way.

Okay.

I'm Lucius Glanz,

the manager
of the Intercontinental Hotel.

And I'm here to... really...

Well, tell you
about the situation that...

the hotel is being sold
and is going to be demolished,

and I want to make a plea
for its protection.

Certainly this is something
that has been done in the past.

Good examples are...

The post office building.

Please.
I just have some examples.

The Chocolate House
by architect Ernst Lichtblau,

or the Retti Candle Shop
by Hans Hollein.

Now, hopefully, we can protect
the Hotel Intercontinental

by Carl Appel,
which was inaugurated in 1964.

Sorry, sorry. We
are not responsible.

We can't help you in your case.

But this is not right. It's
not...

It's not just a question
of cultural heritage.

It's a question of money, of
greed,

of destroying the cultural
fabric of the community.

I only can repeat,
in your case, we can't help you.

That's a private-owned building,

and we are only responsible for
public.

I would like to read you
something

which might make you understand
a little better.

I'd like to read you
from the "Manuale degli Alpaca".

Do you think that functionaries
from the Austrian government

have nothing better to do than
listen to Americans reading in Italian

about the social behaviors
of Latin American mammals?

Nicolaia Yanco, room 235.

The countryside could
be an option.

Maybe in Italy. I love Italy.

Maybe a farm.

I would spend hours taking care of
the vegetable garden and the animals.

I could raise alpacas,
a mesmerizing beast.

Sometimes delicate, docile,
sometimes temperamental.

I would feed them, shear them
once a year with my own hands.

My only worry is poisonous
weeds.

They say the foreign soil
might be dangerous to them.

Lilly began to support the sale.

I don't blame her.

She breathes air from other
planets.

And she became fond
of the language of Facundo.

Oh, my God!

Whose potato chip is this?

Whose potato chip is this?

Oh! Come on, boys. You gotta
give the girls a chance.

Whose potato chip is this?

If you're up to the challenge,
I'm a good student,

and I'll submit to your
teachings.

I'm not looking for a student.

Well, then can I be your
teacher?

Motherfuckers, motherfuckers.

Yeah.

Lucius Glanz, general manager,
Intercontinental Hotel.

Suddenly the night falls.
It's already dark outside.

It's an unreal time a nightfall.

We're neither alive nor dead.

It's the time we say goodbye.
We regret.

Or else we even forget
the spirit of revenge.

A great sadness takes hold of
us.

It should be beautiful. And it
is not.

The doorman rises high.

He tells us it's time.
It's time.

It's time for what?

To the doorman,
it is always time to leave,

to close the doors.

Even Saint Peter dreams
of closing the gates of heaven

and switching off the lights.

Oh, God.

Let's go back to work.

Lucius.

A peace offering.

No hard feelings.

I'm gonna make a beautiful
hotel.

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