All language subtitles for Zestyanoy.baraban.1979.eng

THE TIN DRUM

I'll begin long before
I ever existed.

When the time came
for my poor mama to be born,

my grandmother, Anna Bronski,

who was still young
and unsuspecting,

sat in her four skirts
at the edge of a potato field.

That was in 1899,

in the heart of Kashubia.

Something was moving
on the horizon,

as if jumping about.

Please.

Anybody come this way?

Name of Koljaiczek?

- A firebug.
- Short with broad shoulders.

I saw him.
Running like a bat out of hell.

Which way?

I don't believe it.

- He's gone.
- Must be in Bissau if he's not here.

Has to be one or the other.
There's nowhere else.

And it's raining, besides.

All right, Koljaiczek.

My name is Joseph.

So my grandfather was an arsonist.

A repeat arsonist,

because in all of West Prussia,

sawmills were the tinder
for the blazing nationalism of the Poles.

Joseph and Anna
hid with the raftsmen

for almost a year.

That's how long
it took the police to catch up

with my grandfather.

Run!

Don't shoot!

- Don't shoot him!
- Fire at will!

After that dive,

Koljaiczek was never seen again.

Some say he drowned.

Others say

he escaped to America,

where, in Chicago,
under the name of Joe Colchic,

he became a millionaire.

They say he made his pile in lumber,

in matches,

and in fire insurance.

As for my grandmother,

she sat year after year
in her four skirts,

hawking her wares in the market.

Geese!

Not too fat and not too lean.

And she grew older.

The First World War came,

and instead of geese,

she had only turnips to sell.

Turnips!

My poor mother grew older too.

She was worried about her cousin Jan.

Jan had been called to war,
but he wanted to be near her.

- Name?
- Bronski, Jan.

- Year?
- 1898.

Cough.

Again.

Rejected.

''No ass, no neck
To the army I'm a wreck!''

For the first time, my mother
held her cousin Jan in her arms,

and I doubt

if they ever embraced more happily.

This young wartime romance
was untroubled

until the appearance
of a certain Mr. Matzerath.

Alfred Matzerath,
born in the Rhineland,

was the favorite of all the nurses
at the Silberhammer Hospital

for his cheerful Rhenish ways.

What did she say?

She said you're a born cook,
Mr. Matzerath.

You know how to turn
feelings into soup.

The war had spent itself.

Danzig was declared a Free State.

The Poles were given
their own post office,

where stamp collector
Jan Bronski went to work.

Alfred Matzerath
also stayed in Danzig.

We Kashubians
have always been here.

Long before the Poles,

and, naturally,
long before the Germans.

That's old news, Jan.
Now we've got peace.

Germans, Poles, Kashubians -

we'll all live together in peace.

I don't know.

Well, you'll see.

The two men, so different despite
their similar feelings for Mama,

liked each other,

and from that trinity
they brought me, Oskar,

into the world.

The sun was in the sign of Virgo.

Neptune moved
into the tenth house of middle life,

anchoring Oskar somewhere
between wonder and disillusion.

Push, push.

Push, Agnes, push!
Push hard!

It's coming!

I first saw the light of this world

in the form of a 60-watt bulb.

Alfred, it's a boy!

I knew it would be a boy,

even if I sometimes said
it would be a girl.

Not so hot.

Crying and impersonating
a meat-colored baby,

I listened keenly
and with a critical ear

to my parent's
first spontaneous reactions.

He'll take over the business.
Now we know what we're slaving for.

When little Oskar is three years old,

he shall have a tin drum.

Only the prospect
of the tin drum prevented me

from expressing
more forcefully my desire

to return to the womb.

Besides, my umbilical cord
had been cut.

There was nothing more to be done.

And so it was that I could
hardly wait till my third birthday.

Who married us
Go on, tell them

You tell them
It was the cardinal

The cardinal bird married us

The cardinal bird married them

The blue sky was our cathedral

What is it?

Oh, it's little Oskar.

Want some more cake?
- No, thank you.

Your mouth's filthy.

- Another sip, Grandma?
- Oh, yes.

It's not like an apple
that you give away.

We must learn to respect
the human body again.

And with rolls at three pfennigs -

What do you want?

The main thing is a stable currency.

And plenty to drink!

So here's to the stable mark

and the three-pfennig roll!

To youth!

And beauty!

Beautiful indeed is youth

May I call you by your first name?

Then I'll call you Lina.

We won't be so young
when next we meet!

The gentle nightingale
sang her song all night

Love, oh, love

Is a power

Divine

The gentle nightingale

Sang her song all night

Love, oh, love

How lovely.

Jan, get the cards.

I'll just drop this in the laundry

and rinse a few glasses.

September 12,

1927.

Next year, you'll be this big,

and then this big,
and then this big,

and then as big as me.

Gangway!

Fresh from the cellar.
- Here are the glasses.

So you won't have to drink
from the bottle.

- Playing, Mr. Scheffler?
- Heavens, no.

Go ahead. I'll just watch.

Besides, it's my bedtime.

- He's always tired.
- You shouldn't have married a baker.

Oskar, it's been a long time since
Grandma let anyone under her skirts.

Let's have a little game!

Let's see where those jacks are.

Hey, cousin, you're out of diamonds!

Don't argue. Play.

I have two diamonds myself.

How would I know?

That day,

reflecting on the grown-up world

and my own future,

I decided to call a halt -

to stop growing then and there

and remain a three-year-old,

a gnome, once and for all.

One, two, three...

My God, there he is.

What happened?

He fell down the stairs!

Do something!

Why was the cellar door open?

He's bleeding.

Alfred, it's your fault!
You left the cellar door open!

I was just getting beer for everyone.

Run and get the doctor.

- It looks bad.
- You! It's your fault!

You left the cellar door open!

Stop! Stop!

Calm down!
What's done is done!

My little Oskar.

My little boy.

How could this have happened?

Two weeks in bed
and Oskar will be as good as new.

Just a slight concussion.

Plenty of cold compresses.

My fall was a complete success.

The family story was:
On his third birthday,

our little Oskar
fell down the cellar stairs.

He didn't break any bones,
but he never grew again after that,

not a fraction of an inch.

That drum again.
It's so loud.

There's my little Oskar,
all well again.

Have a good lunch.

Not in the house, I said.

Besides, it's broken.
You'll hurt yourself.

You staying? We're having mushrooms.
- Sorry. Post office time.

Let me have that.

If you hurt yourself,
it will be my fault again.

See? I told you so.

Give me that drum
and I'll give you some chocolate.

Let them have it.
I'll get you a new one.

No! Oskar don't want!

We'll see about that.

Alfred, why must you always use force?

My drum!

And thus I discovered
my voice was capable of a scream

so high-pitched

that no one dared
take my drum away.

Shards bring luck.

Because when my drum was
taken away, I screamed,

and when I screamed,
valuable articles burst into bits.

Is the black cook here today

No, no, no

She will make an evil brew

She will put you in her stew

And then she will devour you

Look, there she is

That's enough of that!

Beat it, you freak!
I'm coming down!

But no one dares to argue

O glorious call of the sun

Green of birch and green of seed

As if with gestures to plead

Old Mother Earth has decreed

Mankind her own shall be

I'll take that one.

Look...

if you please,
at this extraordinary potato.

This tumescent, luxuriant flesh,

forever conceiving new shapes...

and yet so chaste.

I love the potato

because it speaks to me.

Yes, spuds are bigger
this year than last.

What are you doing?

Oskar learn to write.

Stop that.

You'll never learn
to read and write the great classics,

the eternal truths:

''Die unto life!''

Hold it.
Now I've got all of you.

A bit more to the right, Alex.

For you on your first day of school.

Eyes this way, please.

Good morning.

Good morning, children.

My name is Spollenhauer,
and I am your teacher.

Be seated.

And now, dear children,
do any of you know a song?

You must be little Oskar.

We've heard so much about you.

You play that so well.

Isn't our Oskar a fine drummer?

But now let's put the drum away.

It must be sleepy.

After school,
you can have it back again.

You're a naughty Oskar.

I will now read you the schedule.

Monday:
writing, arithmetic, reading,

religion.

All together: writing.

Arithmetic.

Oskar, stop that!

Religion.

Get out!

Strange. Very strange.

How old is he, did you say?

Six, Doctor.

Inge, kindly undress Oskar.

How long is it
since he fell down the stairs?

Three years on September 12.

We'd better examine his spine again.

Be a good boy.
I'll give it right back.

Oskar, give me your drum.
I'll hold it.

See, you can't get
out of your shirt.

Oskar, if you're not good,
the doctor won't make you well.

Come, child.
Give me the drum.

Amazing.

I shall write a paper

about this for one
of our medical journals,

if you have no objection.

Amazing.

Truly amazing.

"The destructive force
of this local phenomenon

is such as to suggest

an anomalous formation
of the lower larynx

in little Oskar Matzerath.

Nor can we exclude the hypothesis

of a concomitant development
of the vocal cords.''

Did you hear that?
In a medical journal.

Does the doctor say
why he won't grow?

You'll have to ask him that.

Why he won't grow.

Cut it out.

He's yours as much as mine.

If not more.

Who left the cellar door open,
you or me?

Uncle Hailandt,
come spit in the soup.

Look what I found in the pond!
Two frogs!

What are you doing, Tom Thumb?

Make Oskar taste the soup!

Now it's your turn.
You'll love it.

A treat.

Open your mouth.

Good, huh?

Just a little more.

Labesweg and its backyards
hemmed me in.

I longed for space
and took every opportunity

to escape the persecution
by the soup cooks

by going into town

alone or with Mama.

Your drum's busted.

Want me to mend it?

No, he's getting a new one.

My respects, ma'am.

Hello, Uncle Jan.

You coming too?

I must leave you now.

I have a few errands to run.

Good-bye, Agnes.

This is for your drum, Oskar.

Good-bye, cousin.

Good day, Mr. Markus.

Who do we have here?
Oh, Mrs. Matzerath.

And little Oskar.
Here for a new drum?

Yes, Mr. Markus. Again.

He's always at it.

I never know what day it is -
I mean, what day of the week -

except when you come in.

Then something tells me
it must be Thursday again.

You have such beautiful hands.
Worth their weight in gold.

Oskar, see that box?
Hand it to me.

That's it.

Look here, Mrs. Matzerath.
Beautiful silk stockings.

Pure silk. Fine quality.

One, two, three pairs.
Take them.

They'll suit you fine,
and they're a bargain.

Much too expensive for me.

- They're worth it.
- Maybe another time.

I'll let them go
for half a gulden.

That cheap?

No, Markus, that would be
like giving them away.

Take them,
and don't ask questions.

And now, Oskar,

what can I do for the little prince?

Oh, is it a new drum we need?

Just choose one.
You know where they are!

See, Oskar?

He's so happy.

Mr. Markus, could little Oskar

stay with you for half an hour?

I have some important business.

Ah, yes.

I'll watch him
like the apple of my eye.

See to your important business,
and don't worry.

The little prince will stay with me

while you take care
of your important business,

just like every Thursday.

We'll close off the street.

Danzig is and always
has been German.

If not for the German people,

all these eastern regions

would have succumbed
to total barbarism...

Have a nice stroll?

Everyone can hear the Führer but us!

What's wrong with you?

I suffer from an illness.

What is it?

I've gone

birdbrained!

And now, ladies and gentlemen,
the smallest of the small:

Bebra and his midgets!

My word!

Now it's three-year-olds
who choose to stop growing.

My name is Bebra.

Directly descended
from Prince Eugene...

whose father was Louis XIV,

and not some Savoyard,
as has been claimed.

I stopped my growth
on my tenth birthday.

Better late than never.

Tell me, my dear Oskar,

you must be 14 or 15 now.

Twelve and a half.

No! And how old do you think I am?

Thirty-five.

Flatterer!

I was 35 once.

I shall be 53 in August.

I could be your grandfather.

Are you an artist too?
- Not really.

Although...

as you see, I can lay claim
to a certain artistry.

You must join us. You must!

You know, Mr. Bebra...

to tell the truth,

I prefer to be
a member of the audience

and let my little art
flower in secret.

My dear Oskar,

trust an experienced colleague.

Our kind must never sit
in the audience.

Our kind must perform

and run the show,

or it's the others that will run us.

And the others are coming.

They will take over the fairgrounds.

They will stage torchlight parades.

They will build platforms
and fill them,

and from those platforms
preach our destruction.

They're looking for you, dear friend.
But we will meet again.

We're too little to lose each other.

Good day.

Come on.

Good-bye.

They are coming!

Now you can open them.

Thank you, Uncle Jan.

A pleasant Sunday to you all.

These damn leggings
keep falling down!

Morning, cousin.

I need boots.

You know they cost way too much.

Or leather gaiters at least.

How do I look?

- Going to the demonstration?
- Yes, at the fairground.

A mass rally.

How are you?

Gauleiter Löbsack is speaking.

And what a speaker he is.

I tell you, these are historic days.

A man can't stand aside.
Gotta join in.

You should read the Danzig Sentinel.

Your siding with Poland is crazy.

I've told you a thousand times.

I am a Pole.

Think it over.

Take your umbrella.
It looks like rain.

An umbrella? With this uniform?

The stew is on.
Stir it now and then.

It'll be done in 20 minutes.
- Want a bite to eat before you go?

No time.

Duty is duty,
and schnapps is schnapps.

My dear fellow countrymen
and countrywomen

from Danzig and Langfuhr,

from Ohra, Schidlitz

and Praust,

from the hills and from the lowlands,

I know you all

cherish but one wish.

It has been our heartfelt wish

ever since the shameful
Versailles Diktat

separated us from our beloved
German fatherland.

And that wish is

to go home to the Reich!

What is the meaning
of this Free State

that was so generously
foisted on us?

It means that our waterfront
is crawling with Polacks.

And in the middle
of our beloved Old City,

they've stuck a Polish post office -

a present we can do without.

We Germans had

post offices

before the Poles

even thought of writing letters.

We taught them the alphabet.

And now, dear party comrades,

let us welcome
our guest from the Reich

whom the Führer sent to greet us.

Party comrade Albert Forster

has just arrived on the field.

I've got sand in my shoe.

Hey, can you catch them
with a clothesline?

Yes, sure, you can.

Real fish, or just old shoes?

Suppose we take a look.

Maybe something's there.

Get the sack.

You call that fat?

You should have seen them

after the battle of Jutland,

when we and the English -

See what I mean?

After the battle,

they were this thick.

He wanted 1.50,

but I gave him a gulden.

Don't expect me
to touch your eels.

Don't put on airs.

I'll never eat fish again.
Certainly not eels.

You've always eaten them,
and you've known where they come from.

Quiet.

Stop that drumming
once and for all.

- Leave the child alone!
- And sit down!

Who was to blame?
Who left the cellar door open?

That's old news. Sit down.

See if they're not delicious.

Come on. Dig in.

Fresh eel with dill sauce,

bay leaf
and a twist of lemon peel.

Don't make her eat
if she doesn't want to.

- Keep out of this.
- Leave her alone.

She'll only vomit.

I paid good money for these eels.
Just try them.

They've been well cleaned and washed.

No gall. Light, healthy liver.

And so fresh!

All the disgusting parts are gone.

Oskar, sit down.

I slaved over the stove for hours.

Some people wouId be
very happy to eat my eels.

I don't know what to do!

Alfred, calm down.

I can't talk to her.
And the fish is getting cold.

Women are more sensitive.

You talk to her.
If only she'd calm down.

Shouldn't I warm them up at least?

No, don't do it with Bronski.

He joined the wrong side
when he went with the Polish post office.

Don't bet on the Poles.

If you must bet, bet on the Germans.

Sooner or later, they'll take over.

Imagine when the Germans come
and you're stuck with Bronski,

that meshugganah Pole.

You'll be in trouble then.

Why not bet on Matzerath?

Or, if you'd do me great honor,

bet on me,

on Sigismund Markus,

who was just baptized.

No, Markus. Please!

We could go to London

like everybody else,
before the Germans come.

Look. There he is.

We'll take him with us to London.

He'll live like a prince.

Thank you, Markus,
but it's impossible,

and not because of Bronski.

I'm glad to hear that. I had a feeling
it wasn't because of him.

Steer clear of Bronski,

and stick to Matzerath.

Come on.

Play.

One two, one two...

You can't or you won't?

Rascal!

'Cause you can do everything else.

I have sinned
in thought, word and deed.

Alone or with others?

With someone else.

When and where?

Thursdays, on the Tischlergasse.

But, child, that same
filthy neighborhood?

I can't help it, Father.
I try, but I can't.

But, my dear Mrs. Matzerath,
the consequences.

They're already here, Father.

What do you think you're doing?

Little brat.

Father, what will I do
with the child?

I love my little Oskar,

but he's already 14.

He's always in trouble,
and now this! Oh, Father -

Pray, Mrs. Matzerath, pray.

Oskar, stop it.

What did I tell you?
Fish again.

She doesn't eat.
She gulps it down.

And she's surprised
it doesn't stay down.

God, how can this be?

This has been going on
for three weeks.

First it was kippers and sardines.
Now it's pickled herring.

I've tried everything.
I'm at the end of my rope.

Why didn't you call me sooner?

Agnes, tell me what's wrong.

You know
fish doesn't agree with you!

Take it from me.

A single communist joining the party
makes the Führer happier

than ten conservatives

who just join out of fear,
not grasping that a new era has begun.

Yes, a new era!

Doesn't want to live.

Doesn't want to die.

I don't know.

It's too much of everything,
and it keeps piling up.

I used to say that too,
but I made it.

Think it was easy when Koljaiczek -

your father -

disappeared under the timber

and never came back?

- But at least he was gone!
- Away, you say. The man's away.

How can you talk like that
when you do it with two men

and never get enough?

That'll do, Mother!

You're pregnant!
So what?

There's plenty of room here.

When will it be?

Never! It'll never be!

I had no way of knowing!

Help her.

Why don't you want the child?

It doesn't matter whose it is.

No trumpet playing here.

Go and blow that thing
with your Brown Shirts.

Soon your blowing will all be over.

Nazi swine!

Red pig!

What are you doing here?

You got no business here!

'Cause you're -
Wanna know what you are?

A kike.
That's what you are.

Ah, it's little Oskar.

See what they're doing to Markus,

who was baptized
just like them?

Is your drum broken?

Come see me.
You'll have a new drum.

A beautiful day!

She's gone to the place
where everything's so cheap.

Yes, it's a beautiful day.

An unforgettable day.

I, too, have seen the Lord.

You've seen the Lord?

A beautiful day.

The Lord has passed.

He was in a hurry.

There once was a drummer.

His name was Oskar.

He lost his poor mama,
who had eaten too much fish.

There once was a gullible people

who believed in Santa Claus.

But Santa Claus was really

the gas man!

There once was a toy merchant.

His name was Sigismund Markus,

and he sold tin drums
lacquered red and white.

There was once a drummer.

His name was Oskar.

There once was a toy merchant

whose name was Markus...

and he took all the toys
in the world away with him.

September 1, 1939.

You know the date, I assume.

That was when I committed
my second crime.

For I, Oskar the drummer,

not only drummed
my poor mama into her grave.

I also dragged

my poor uncle, and presumably
my father, Jan Bronski,

to the Polish post office,

so causing his death.

- Halt. You can't go through.
- Why not? I work here.

Off limits. Nobody's allowed in.

We only want to see Kobyella.

He's a Pole! Stop him!

It's high time.

Quick, they're issuing weapons.

You're always the last one.
Take this rifle.

Helmet.

The ammunition's over there.

What are you doing here?

Kobyella, repair drum.

Impossible.
Kobyella has no time for you now.

Bronski, are you crazy?
Get this boy out of the way.

Go and hide somewhere, Oskar.

I have to stay here.
Go on, hurry.

On September 1st,

German territory was violated.

Last night, for the first time,

Poles opened fire
on German regulars

on German soil.

Since 5:45 this morning
their fire has been returned.

From now on,
bomb will be answered with bomb.

Where is Uncle Jan?

The drum! Jan, the drum!

Get down!

The drum!

Oskar, take cover!

You can't stay here, Oskar.

Take cover! Fire!

Hey, Kobyella, don't give up.

I'll fasten you down.
Then you won't tip over.

Is it my turn?

With one play, two contras,
three schneiders, four times clubs.

That makes 48, or 12 pfennigs.

Hey, don't be a spoilsport.

I can't play by myself.

Pull yourself together.

Kobyella, what's wrong?

Kobyella, I beg you!

I've got a Grand Hand.

Look, a Grand Hand.

Agnes!

She's dead.

We surrender. Don't shoot!

Hold your fire!

Freeze! Hands up!

Line up! Move out!

You gonna move, or what?

You too!

They filmed us for a newsreel

that was shown
in all the movie houses,

because Oskar's experience
at the Polish post office in Danzig

went down in history
as the first battle of World War II.

What? They shot Jan Bronski?

They gathered up
all the cartridge cases.

All but one.

They always forget one.

The Hanseatic Free City of Danzig

celebrated the union
of its brick Gothic

with the greater German Reich.

This is a big moment in your life.

Keep your eyes open.
You'll have stories to tell.

I think I'll faint if he looks at me!

Here he comes!

This is Maria.
She wants to work for you.

You said you needed somebody
for the customers.

Things can't go on like this.

And for Oskar here.

Hail Mary, full of grace.
The Lord is with thee.

Blessed art thou among women,
and blessed is the fruit of thy womb.

Holy Mary, Mother of God,
pray for us poor sinners,

now and at the hour of our death.

Lord, give us -

Faith.

And take me up to heaven.

Have you gone to the bathroom?

Another tune?

''Mary, My Adoration.''

Maria, I love you

With all my heart

Forever and ever

We never will part

Go away!

Disregarding
my anonymous infatuations,

Maria was my first love.

How old are you?

Just turned 16.

Me too.

I can't believe it.

Love cannot be sinful

Even if it were
I wouldn't care

Maria smelled of vanilla.

I wondered why.

Did she rub herself with some root?

Was it some cheap perfume

that she sprayed herself with?

Oskar resolved to find out.

What are you doing?

Hey, stop it!

You little rascal.

You dive in, not knowing a thing.

Good evening.

- Gonna be late?
- Could be.

Too many victories to celebrate.

You can sleep with Maria.

There's plenty of room
in my bed for Oskar.

He's just a shrimp.

Quick, Oskar, into the hay.

Come up here!

Look. He's so happy.

Good night.

It's a quarter to.

A little more. Just a little.

But be careful.

Don't worry.

Almost. Almost.

Just a little more.
But be careful!

I am!

Go away!

What are -

Alfred, stop it!

Is it the kid's fault
you're not careful?

Me? Who kept asking for more?

I said, ''Be careful. It's coming soon.''
But it never came at all.

Never enough.
You're all the same.

In, out, finished.
That's your idea of love.

Well, go look for somebody else.

Think I'm some kind of electric bell?

And you never take precautions!

Stop bawling. I'm fed up.

Then go back
to your comrades, you jerk.

I need a change, that's for sure.

Women!

They're all a bunch
of quick squirters. Beat it!

Get yourself a POW
if you're in heat.

Maybe the frog
that brings the beer.

Maybe he'll satisfy you.

I see love as something
more than smuttiness.

Next time I'll play cards.
Then I'll know what to expect.

You nasty little dwarf!

You crazy midget!

You belong in the loony bin,
you scumbag!

Oskar, I didn't mean it.

Now you'll have your own room.

He'll soon be 17.

Come on in.

You'll freeze out there.

Want to come in for a while?

Come a little closer, Oskar.

Come under the covers
where it's warm.

It's dreadfully cold.

Greff doesn't give us enough heat.

Come in.

Go ahead.

Greff wants to harden his body.

He loves youth and hard bodies,

but he likes boys more than girls.

Victory through strength and joy

My feet are frozen.

A scout is never cold.

They're doing fine in the east.

Leningrad will fall any day.

Kiev's more important
because of the oil.

That was fast! Much faster
than in '15, when I was in the army.

Moscow's the main thing.

Alfred, you carve.

What would we do without Grandma?

Yes, the Kashubians
are still good for something.

Oh, if I could only be out there!

But I'm needed on the home front.

Moscow must be wiped out,

or we'll have to feed
all those people.

The Führer knows that.

They've sent
my Herbert to the front.

To make him fight.

Disciplinary battalion.

Starve 'em!
Starve all our enemies!

That'll end the war.

Breast or drumstick?

I'd like a drumstick.

It's nice and juicy.

The nations of Europe
are all on our side.

The stalwart Finns.

No goose without sage!

- The Magyars, the Rumanians.
- Oskar, what a splendid feast.

We're advancing on the oceans too.

For we're sailing

No goose, Greff?

You know I don't eat meat.

A youthful nation rises
ready for the storm

Raise the banner higher

This isn't a Kashubian goose anymore.
It's a German goose.

Anyway, it's delicious.

Now you've got
a little brother, Oskar.

You'll soon be able to play with him.

The butcher's son was killed.

He got the Iron Cross, first class.

Second class!

If I say it's first, it's first!

In any case, he's dead.

Kurt, my son -

You are definitely my son.

When you're three,

I'll give you a drum,

and if you want to stop growing,

I'll show you how it's done.

An autograph, please.

May I have your autograph?

May I make the same request?

Very kind of you.

My dear Oskar!

How glad I am to see you again!

Didn't I tell you?
We're too little to lose each other.

Splendid, splendid!
You haven't grown an inch.

Permit me to introduce Oskar,

an old friend
who sings glass to bits.

Signorina Roswitha Raguna,

the great somnambulist.

The joy of our soldiers
on every front,

and of my old age.

You're surprised to see me
in this uniform,

but the Propaganda Ministry
approached us

and asked us to appear
before the country's top leaders.

Filthy politics!

And now we entertain the troops.

A present from Oskar.

You are very talented.

Why don't you join us?
What's to keep you here?

Yes, join us, young man.

Play your drum, sing champagne glasses
and lightbulbs to bits.

The German army of occupation
in fair France, in gay Paris,

will thank you.

Dear tin soldiers of Paris,

Bebra's Front Line Theater
will play for you,

sing for you,

and help you win the war!

What are you thinking about?

My grandmother's skirts.

And now, ladies and gentlemen,

for the first time in France,

a newcomer to our program,

the man with the secret weapon

we have heard so much about:

Oskar the drummer!

Oskar the glass killer!

Mazel tov.

One corporal, five men,
nothing to report.

Thank you.
At ease, Corporal.

You see? Nothing to report.

It's been this way for years.

There's always the tide,
nature's contribution.

That's what keeps our men busy.

That's why we go on
building bunkers.

You have faith in concrete?

We haven't much faith in anything.

Am I right, Corporal?
- Right, sir.

But still you mix and pour.

Is the black cook here today
No, no, no

She will make an evil brew

She will put you in her stew
And then she will devour you

Is the black cook here today
Yes, yes, yes

Look, there she is

Goody! A picnic in the open air!

Real Hungarian salami. Wonderful!

And chocolate from Holland!

And now, dive in.

Dig in, my friends.

Where do we begin?

Ah, caviar.

Rescued from Stalingrad.

Ah, may it soothe our souls!

And now, Signorina Raguna,

could you tell us,

as well as the ladies and gentlemen
present tonight,

the exact date of birth

of Lieutenant Herzog?

April 11,

1915...

in Bremen.

That's right.
And the place too.

Applause

for Signorina Raguna,
the great somnambulist.

I see they're bringing him champagne.

But you'll never drink it.

I'm sorry.
- Why not?

All together!

Where's the witch, black as pitch

Don't be afraid.

Nothing will happen.

My little man.

Children! Quick!

What's the matter?

The Americans are coming.

Oskar, I must have coffee!

I can't go without coffee.
- Roswitha, we're leaving.

A cup of coffee, please.

Roswitha!

Roswitha, I don't know
how old you were.

I only know
that you smelled of cinnamon

and nutmeg.

You could see
into the hearts of men,

but not into your own heart.

Ah, dear Oskar,

we dwarfs and fools
shouldn't dance on concrete

that was poured for giants.

Come on.
We have to move out.

- Well, Oskar, good-bye.
- Good luck.

And keep your chin up.

It's little Oskar!

Hey, Kurt, Oskar's come back
for your birthday.

Your little brother
just turned three.

I brought you a present.

Are you allowed to wear that uniform?

Where have you been?

We looked all over for you.
The police looked high and low.

We had to swear
we hadn't bumped you off.

Well, now you're here.

Beethoven.
Now there was a genius.

Turn it off. It's all over.
Final victory.

Alfred, get rid of your party pin.
The Russkis will be here any minute.

Bury it under the potatoes.

Hands up!

Hands up!

All right, I'll do it.

Hurry! I've still got shoes to sole.

Oh, my! His hand!

It doesn't hurt him now.

In the name of the Father,
the Son and the Holy Ghost.

Hail, Mary, full of grace.
The Lord is with thee.

Kurt,

stop throwing stones.

Blessed art thou among women,
and blessed is the fruit of thy womb.

Should I or shouldn't I?

You're 20, Oskar.

Should you or shouldn't you?

You're an orphan, Oskar.

I should, I must,

I will grow!

Kurt, now what have you done?

He's growing!

Look!

See how he's growing!

I have seen the Lord!

The Lord!

See how he's growing!
The Lord!

Just like a Kashubian.

Our heads were made for hard knocks.

And now you're going west,
where things are better.

Only Grandma will stay here,

because you can't move
Kashubians around like that.

They have to stay so other people

can clout them on the head...

because we're not Polish enough

or German enough,

and they always want
everything just right.

Does it hurt?

I hope it's not water on the brain.

When he was three,
he fell down the stairs

and stopped growing.

Now he's fallen into a grave
and wants to grow again.