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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 Ordóñez.

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 Ordoñez?

I learned a few facts about Facundo Ordoñez.

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 "sportif".

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.

Now I'm going to clean you up.