All language subtitles for Schtonk.1992.720p.BluRay.x264.AAC-[YTS.MX]

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This is German National Radio

And here I am.

The Führer is in our midst again.

Speaking now: the Führer.

(Hitler samples)

♪ And then you get used to it

♪ And you understand

♪ It's not the end of the world

♪ Even if it looks gray sometimes

♪ One day it will be full of colors again

♪ One day it'll be blue as the sky again

♪ If things go topsy-turvy

♪ And our hair's going gray

♪ It's not the end of the world

♪ It's still needed it after all

♪ It's not the end of the world

♪ Even if it looks gray sometimes

♪ One day it will be full of colors again

♪ One day it will be blue as the sky again

♪ If things go topsy-turvy

♪ And our hair's going gray

♪ It's not the end of the world

♪ It's still needed after all

♪ It's not the end of the world

♪ It is still needed after all

He won't burn.

Reporting as ordered. He won't burn, Sir.

Who won't burn?

The Führer, Mr. Obersturmbannführer.

And Mrs. Führer, Mrs. Braun, not either, Sir.

Pour some gas on 'em and they'll burn.

Gas? On the Führer?

Mr. Obersturmbannführer, Sir.

There's no more Führer.

And don't call me that, you ignoramus.

Yes, Mr. Obersturmbannführer, Sir.

My god.

The ashes of the world's greatest
commander had barely cooled

when a large demand for memorabilia
from our 'Millennial Reich' arose.

I was 9 at the time and had only
just begun trading antiques.

But I already specialized.

The Führer's personal items
achieved the highest prices.

The more personal, the better.

Preferably close to the skin.

We had lots of foreign guests at the time.

The Führer was especially popular
with our American friends.

These were skeptical by nature
and only bought authentic goods.

Preferably certified.

This is my Sunday hat. Signed, A.Hitler.

I looked back at my debut product
with a certain professional pride.

I was determined not to put my rise
to an artistic all-rounder at risk.

Especially not by real work…

in the bourgeois sense of the word.

In the Fifties, most Germans were busy
producing the 'economic miracle',

and did not want to be reminded
of their most recent past.

Not only that Nazis couldn't
be found anywhere,

there never had been any.
Not even sympathizers.

Business was bad.

That's why I knew right away
when I looked into Bigi's eyes

that I had found
the love of my life.

I introduced myself to my future wife
as Professor Dr. Fritz Knobel.

Produced the necessary documents
and together we left the hectic city.

Biggi opened a small cleaning business

and I fully dedicated myself
to my artistic inclinations.

[Years later in Swabia]

Don't make such a fuss.
Take your clothes off.

I won't.

Biggi, dear, you've got such a great body.

Flowing hips, an elegant nuchal line,

hot breasts.

Breasts, breasts, forget it.

Just like with that French brothel
picture. And what did I look like?

Like an old, drunk whore!

- So?
- Here, look. No!

Sorry dear, I can't help the
way Toulouse-Lautrec painted.

I can't change his style
only so that you look better!

It's different with Hitler,
he was a much worse painter.

What?

I mean better, much better!

He made people look better
than in reality,

healthy, natural, beautiful.
Especially the women.

Please, darling, undress and I'll paint you
as Eva Braun. More beautiful than ever.

I won't pose nude for
somebody who fucked Hitler.

He didn't. He couldn't!

It's a historic fact that sexually
he wasn't really… Darling!

Darling, don't make such a fuss.

Find someone else.

But who? Biggi. Darling.

Only once. The deadline's tomorrow.

It's a fixed job.
Thousands of Deutschmarks.

My marriage had been in crisis
for a while.

My business failures were
mostly to blame.

Predominantly in the area of French
impressionism, surrealism, and dadaism.

But this time I had
a legitimate assignment.

My customer was a passionate collector
of… ehm… nazi realism.

I was ordered to get him an authentic
nude of Eva Braun, painted by Hitler.

Not a problem for me.

I knew the Führer's
companion's face.

I only needed to find
a matching body.

Knobel, Prof. Dr. Fritz Knobel.

I am the official painter of the
prime minister of Baden-Württemberg.

I've been commissioned by the
government to paint oil portraits

the most beautiful women
of our Swabian home country.

I'm not from Swabia.

I am from Bergisches Land.

You are so beautiful.
And I will depict you as silent.

I see.

Had I only left my hands
off brush and woman.

I would have avoided
a lot of trouble.

At the same time in Hamburg
the "Carin II",

a rotten old boat was dry-docked.

An equally seedy Journalist
named Hermann Willié

had just bought it under great financial
strain from Hermann Göring's estate.

Willié was a muckraker with a
phenomenal talent for marketing.

He would make my modest artistic
talents bloom in a catastrophic way.

Hermann, getting that thing out now?
That'll cost another fortune.

Wasn't it OK there in the water?

No, not OK, we sunk.

Some good advice if I may: Sell it,
before you're completely ruined.

Can you spare a hundred?
I promised the guys Champagne.

Dear highly esteemed Madam,

high madam… highly honored madam…

I'm at the end of my rope, financially.

No, no.

I am the proud owner of your uncle's yacht.

I am ecstatic to be meeting our honored
Marshal of the Reich's niece in person.

Sitting, uh, standing in front of her.

I am guessing you are…

…flat broke. I mean… eh

flat out amazed at
how young and beautiful…

how young, a highly esteemed
madam is standing in front of me.

Sorry, I am flabbergasted to be looking
into the esteemed Marshal' nieces eyes.

I am beside myself.

Von Hepp.

Willié, Hermann.

Willié with acute accent.

I took the liberty of getting these
flowers as a token of…

I love spring flowers.

Even though I have to say…

for me, autumn also has
its nice, warm days.

What?

You know, I am the emotional type.

I did not fail to notice that.

A very unusual move by a reporter…

especially since he's from such a…
neodemocratic newspaper.

You have to believe me,…

my paper's direction isn't always…

…else I wouldn't have taken the
burden of your uncle's yacht.

That's what I though. Otherwise
I would not have met with you.

I thought a man who buys and
maintains my uncle's boat

can hardly be one of them.

An when I saw the picture of
the yacht you send me…

…with you are at the helm,
all strong and naked…

Well, I wasn't all naked.
I was wearing pants.

Shorts! And I thought to myself, Freya,
let's take a closer look at that one.

I would not mind at all,
quite the opposite.

How dare you!

My imagination runs wild when I look
into your eyes Mrs. Reichsmarschall.

About if we shouldn't transfer that
thing back into your lap, for example.

What thing, please?

I mean the ship. It should return
into the bosom of your family.

I'll cut you a deal. 350k in cash.

If you need a bill, you'll
have to add sales tax.

It seems like you're quite
the… sleazy person.

- Just a little…
- Professor!

Like this?

Yes, like that.

Do you want to try it on?

It's my uncle's bathrobe.
The Reichsmarschall.

The Reichsmarschall. With pleasure.

Over… or under my clothes?

As you wish.

Well, in that case,
I'll allow myself to…

You look manly.
Masculine and powerful.

I love you, Freya, like crazy.

Big Hermann's yacht with his niece
on the Elbe river at sundown.

How fucking cool!

There is no yacht more German than
that of the Reichsmarschall.

This needs to be on the title…

Hermann, maybe you should let the
editorship know who the owner is.

Pit, what's that for?

It doesn't matter who owns it now, it's
important that it used to belong to Göring.

And the current owner will let
us take all the pictures we want.

The ship, the niece,
everything for 50k.

I've brought a few samples.

Here, the Reichsmarschall's bath robe.

From the family estate.

12 silver teaspoons…

monogrammed, from the same estate.

Swastika…

…and Hallmark.

Used very heavily by the
Reichsmarschall.

We can have all of this, everything.

Everything's included in those 50 grand.

40?

Very interesting. Dead for
40 years, yet still sweaty.

Smell this, Uwe.

Say, Willié, is it possible that you
are the proud owner of Göring's yacht?

You can't call that ownership.

Technically, yes, maybe…

but actually the bank owns it.

I think that's quite the
chutzpah, Mr. Willié.

So, that's what you think.

I think it's pretty amateurish of you
not to realize what a big hit this is,

journalistically.

As long as I am sitting here…

It's "we", Uwe.

Of course it is! As long as
we are sitting here…

…we won't have a swastika
on the title, no Göring boat…

no sweaty bathrobes, and no teaspoons
with swastikas and hallmarks.

That's right, Uwe.

Then soon there won't be
any readers left.

I'm sick of your Nazi shit. Nobody
wants to know. Nobody, never ever!

Eva Braun.

Naked in oil.

Created by the Führer himself…

with his own brush.

Doctor Knobel, I can't call you
doctor anymore.

Fritz!

Oh, gee.

Let's drink to that.

To devoted comradeship.

I am Karl.

Karl, cheers!

Cheers, Fritzle!

Right this way…

What?

Ah, about those old machines.

…ah, him, I used to know him
until 1938, then we lost touch.

This is Prof. Dr. Staffek,
an expert on the Third Reich.

Delighted.

Prof. Dr. Knobel, also
a known art historian.

Former president of the
art academy Leipzig.

Dresden, actually!

I see, so there's two experts now.

I wasn't informed that this was
going to be a scholastic competition.

Neither was I.

But I will gladly accept
any challenger.

Oh Fritzle, don't get me wrong.

But mother said…

You did too.

Yes, me, too.

We thought 10,000 DM is a
lot of money for a painting.

Just show us if you
don't have anything to hide.

I've got nothing to hide.

I just want to say even experts
can be wrong sometimes.

Ah, yes, I'll leave that to you,
dear fellow.

It's, it's, unbelievable…

That's Eva!

Little Eva in the field behind
the house in front of the Watzmann.

I've never said otherwise.

You can give your opinion later,
when it is your turn.

First of all I can tell you that
this is definitely an unknown piece.

I never said anything else. This
is an unknown painting by the Führer…

Unknown to you maybe,
but not to me.

Not to you?

No, I was present when he painted it.

You were… present?

Yes.

I was a summer guest at the Berghof.

It was a gorgeous summer day…

July 7th, 1939.

In the afternoon, around 5 PM,

I was walking through the field,

Cornflowers behind the Berghof,

suddenly he's standing there
painting her.

The way god made her, right in
front of this very mountain view.

What are you trying
to say, Professor?

Is this a Hitler or not?

Madame, one thing I can say without a doubt,
this is the most, most authentic Hitler.

My customer and I were very impressed by
the professors professional opinion.

The man obviously was an intimate
expert of neogermanic art history.

Fascinated I listened to the rest
of his statement when I got an idea.

My life's most fateful idea,

which would result in a body of
work of historic proportions.

The expert professor was not only
present when the painting was done…

he also knew why it had been
lost for so long.

I know where this painting comes from
as I have written a famous book about it.

In "The Führer and I" I exposed…

that in April of '45 the Führer's entire
private archive was put in 10 metal boxes…

and flown from the Reich's capital.

And this airplane, a Junkers-352,
was shot down by the enemy

in a town called Börnersdorf,
close to the Czech border.

The metal boxes have been missing
ever since.

10 boxes full of secret documents,
most private records,

the most secret secrets of the Führer
and the person Adolf Hitler.

The Führer cried when he
received this message.

Come on now.

We're no longer friends,
you backstabber.

How often have you promise me that?

Give me an advance! 10k, you asshole.

I'll give you nothing.

Give me 100.

Hermann, no.

Get rid of that junk
and get us a big hit.

Not this crap. Then I'll
get you back into the money.

You'll do it, Hermann.

But what?

What? A big hit! You hear me?

Something with a bang
that jumps right at you.

Right at the news stand.

If you're the reader.

Bang, bang, bang!

Understand?

A big hit.

You're all wet.

It's raining, professor.

Yes, yes, but I am busy right now.

I urgently have to write something.

Writing? I didn't know you
were a writer, too, professor.

I thought you were only a painter.

That, too. I art everything, I mean
I am an artistic all-rounder.

A little multi-talented genius.

I love little geniuses.

I see.

Martha, please cover up.
I really have to work now.

Baroness Freya von Hepp.

Does she have to be there again?

You are quiet now.

Karl Lentz and wife are doing
the honor of inviting

Baroness Freya von Hepp to an evening of
comradeship on the occasion of Hitler's 90th.

P.S.: On this occasion I will allow myself
to present an unknown secret document

written by the Führer himself.

Unknown secret document?

Written by the Führer himself. Freya!

It's all nonsense. He does
that every year.

Last year it was a dirty napkin
with the Führer's boogers.

This year it'll be an old note
with an inkblot, no thanks.

We're going.

No, we're not.

That's bitter orange marmalade!

I told you I do not
like orange marmalade.

You did not say that to me.

I did. I repeatedly said I did
not want orange marmalade.

Hermann, what are you doing?

Hermann?

What are you doing?

I'm getting dressed.

And the I'll leave you.

Because of the marmalade?

No, because you do not obey me.

I cannot live with a woman
who does not obey.

♪ If I had to live without hope

♪ If I had to believe
nobody loved me

♪ That there was no more
happiness for me

♪ That would be hard

♪ If I didn't know in my heart
that you once told me

♪ 'I love you'

♪ Life would be without
meaning for me

♪ But I know more

♪ I know a miracle
will happen one day

♪ And a thousand fairy tales
will come true

♪ I know a love cannot end
this quickly

♪ A love this big
and wonderful

♪ We're under the same star,
your fate is mine

♪ You're far yet so close
as our souls are one

♪ And that's why…

I won't do it.

Yes you will. Cut off 60 cm of the
string and bring it down here. Now!

A, A, where's that fucking A?

F.H.

F.H., F.H.,… Führer Hitler.

Fuck it.

Our Führer, Adolf Hitler's
secret diary from 1945.

The Führer kept a diary?

You didn't know?

Classified. Property of the Führer.

Keep shut at all times.

Open it, comrade Lentz.
I accept the responsibility.

Yes, Mr. Obergruppenführer.

Open April 20th. Read.

Yes, Mr. Obergruppenführer.

Here we go, April 20th, 1945.

Kotzestunk.

What?

Thank god, I finally woke up
from this horrible dream.

A true nightmare of euca…
apocalyptic dimensions.

Dreamt that the plane
was shot down.

The one that will bring my private
archive to my fortress, tomorrow.

Gundelfinger, my loyal pilot, dead.

Exactly like that.

Shattered in a field
in the middle of nowhere.

In my dream I heard the name of
a place I had never heard before.

Birnenschorf?

Börnersdorf!

Börnersdorf.

That is…. that is…

Inconceivable.

Read on, comrade.

All my paintings, my most
private hand-written notes.

Even you my dear diary
fell victim to the flames.

I did not cry
during the Röhm-Putsch.

I did not cry on July 20th.

I didn't even shed a single
tear during Stalingrad.

But tonight, I cried bitterly.

The Führer cried.

Yes.

Didn't you know?

No.

That was…

a big hit.

Yes, that's sensational.

Truly a hit.

Allow me to introduce myself.

Prof. Dr. Fritz Knobel.

Historian and antiques dealer.

Heil!

Heil!

Heil!

You could really get me
Hitler's diary?

Anything you want. Everything
that's in those 10 metal boxes.

That's what I could get you.

Oh really, oh that would be…

You see, if somebody keeps a diary…

he doesn't only write one…

Of course not.

…but several.

Of course.

Under certain circumstances
I might have access.

Oh, really?

Via Leningrad,

Lehmberg, Leipzig, Lindau.

Vienna?

There's only the question
if you can afford it, Mr…?

Hermann Willié with acute accent.

Money is not an issue. I always say
you either have money or you don't.

I fully agree.

With acute accent,

Weiss-Magazin?

You're from the press?

Very interesting.

No it's not.

Why?

My husband wants nothing
to do with the press.

No, no.

Not at all, he has always avoided
the press, even as a child.

He never wanted to be in the papers.
He has always lied, he can't help it.

And what he just told you about boxes
and diaries is all made up.

Get out of here.

But pro… professor,… I…

Hermann, little man, look…

Freya!

Professor!

Hermann!

Being in the paper wouldn't
exactly hurt my business.

Being in the paper as a forger!
You tinkerer!

Professor!

Please wait.

Stop, stop, professor!

Hermann, little man, look,
Hitler did not keep a diary.

Yes, he did.

No, manny, he didn't.

You know what uncle Hermann
always said to us kids?

After writing "Mein Kampf"
the Führer got a cramp

has a shaky hand,
a blessing for the fatherland.

He couldn't really.

At least not with his hand.

It's a historic fact.

Börnersdorf.

How much cash
do you have on you?

Don't know. Why? Maybe 2,000 DM.

Say, you surely have a wife
and kids at home, don't you?

Eh, yes.

So 2 grand is a lot of money
for you, right?

Uh-uh.

Say, you surely have a wife
and kids at home.

So 500 DM is a lot of money
for you, right?

I refuse to tolerate a personal
question like that.

…while my colleagues are around.
Stop over there.

Börnersdorf.

Freya!

Hermann, I'm warning you.

Don't gyp me again like with
that fake Chinaman.

That story about Mao Tse-tung's
gay swim instructor

who turned out to be Korean
instead of Chinese

and who definitely couldn't swim.

But he was gay!

And if you can't fathom
what a big hit this is,

Adolf Hitler's secret diaries.

They aren't down there, are they?

No.

But I know where they are
and I'll get 'em.

And if you can't fathom what a big
hit this is. Internationally. Bang!

Bang.

Then you're an ignoramus
and and a huge asshole.

And the plane was all ablaze
and coming over those trees.

Trees?

We used to have trees here.

Now there aren't any trees.

And I thought 'he'll hit that barn'.

But no, right where we are
standing now

it went down.

I remember a man wanting out
but nothing could be done.

Everything was bent and hot.

Everything was burnt.

And then, with a single bang.

Total silence.

Terrible.

Great, I mean, gruesome.

A little question on the side:

What was aboard that plane?

Nothing, really… no…

Iron… how do you say it…

- Boxes?
- Yes, boxes.

Iron boxes.

Did you hear, Hermann?

Holy cow, Hermann.

You know something?

I love you.

Well,

a whole lot of brown sauce.

Well, obviously you don't want
it to drip on you.

Neither do I. But we
have to remember that

competition is fierce.

Not to mention we could
sell this worldwide.

Just think about what the Americans
made with Einsteins diaries.

Millions.

I'm thinking globally
Hitler's the bigger name.

We've never had an author
like that in our paper.

This sleazy Willié, I mean,…

can't we put someone more professional
on it. It's such a delicate topic.

Does it have to be this sleazy Willié?

Yes, sleazy, that's exactly
the right term for him.

But he's a true bloodhound
with a good nose.

That guy has some nose, I tell you.

If he really works his way
into this Hitler thing…

it'll be a big hit. I'll swear.

I'd like to give this top priority.

That's why I came straight to you,
the boss. Not the editorship.

Only you and me and this… Willié.

My dear Mr. Willié,…

it's been too long.

We haven't met. I mean I've seen
you but you've never noticed me.

I'm very shortsighted.

What are you bringing me
today, old bloodhound?

This is the cockpit window of the
Ju-352 that crashed over Börnersdorf.

Ah, yes.

Fell from a height of 100 meters
from old 'Auntie Ju'…

the parachute didn't open and
this trooper found his tomb.

Pardon?

Jup, we still sang that
in the army in '64.

I was an ensign
with the paratroopers.

May I?

Exceptionally…

aesthetic.

50, 100, 150, 200.

- Thousand.
- Thousand, yes.

50

100

150

200

Somebody was here. This is a wet
spot and it smells of semen.

Only I was here, by myself.

Masturbating?

Biggi.

Exactly.

Liar.

You know what I'll do? I'll go
over there and get that slut!

Don't you dare.

Oh I will, and I'll rub her nose in that
spot and she'll tell me if you fucked her.

You lying son of a bitch.

Biggi, don't. Stay.

Please stay here.

I admit to everything.
You are completely right.

She was here and so was I.

And I am a lying… well, like you said.

But please do me one favor,

don't take it personally.

You know what I'm like.

I can resist anything…

except for temptation.

And it comes to me
in all shapes and sizes.

I thought to myself… cash is king.

You see? It's happening again.

Sausage platter.

Ah, yes.

Did she notice?

No.

I admitted to everything.

But I told you to lie!

I can't do that.

I cannot lie, Martha!

The world wants to be lied to.

Yes, yes.

Well, I just can't.

I can't lie.

Neither privately nor professionally.

I just can't.

Yes, yes, I know, me neither.

It's a relief

to hear that you're so honest.

Because this thing can only happen
if we are both completely honest.

Of course, honestly.

And that's why I'm telling you
quite frankly

that this thing needs to be
completely secret.

Top secret.

Yes, yes, the highest degree.

I don't know you, you don't know me.

Of course not.

And these diaries would be coming
from Moscow via the GDR.

Moscow?

Yes, via Kiev, Warsaw, Potsdam, Pankow.

Bangkok?

Pankow!

Nobody knows, nobody may ever know.

They'll just appear, nobody
knows from where.

And most importantly, they
may not be publicized.

Not publicized?

I fully agree.

However for a newspaper,
that is a very hard condition.

I don't know how to…
them in Hamburg.

You know Hamburg is Germany's
leading press city.

If I approach them like
"friends, don't publicize"…

That would be rather novel to them.

I don't mean not publicize them ever.

I mean, don't publish them
before I give my OK.

From a safe space

where me and my associates from the East

can be assured of out safety.

If Hitler's secret diaries are published,
heads will roll. What do you think!

The whole world will be
watching closely.

There will be a bang and we should
both be far away, dear Willié.

Taking cover from the KGB, BND, AEG.

AEG?

I mean ARD… eh… that acadamic
research thing… eh…

I see.

Mossad, Stasi, CIA. I have no use for
money that will only buy me a coffin.

No, no, despite all my passion for it

I am not suicidal.

When I think about what's in store for me…

All the burden I take on
with 25 to 30 volumes.

There are 30 volumes?

Roughly. It depends on what's being
delivered and what's being paid.

How about 40k?

40,000?

A piece?

Well, er, I mean, we should
be able to find a way.

I think, maybe one or two.

Shall we say 3 for 120?

I'll give you an advance of 10%.

12,000 DM and the rest upon delivery.

These are 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8…

80, 90, 100

110, 120, 130

140

I hope that engine will run.

Empty. I think fried eggs and
coffee aren't good for my stomach.

Maybe chamomile tea and Zwieback?

Oh yes, please!

And maybe some very light oatmeal?

That would be sweet.

Fritzken,

just say what you need,
I'll do anything for you.

Ugh!

What's up?

No, no, just your strong smell.

From my mouth?

Yes.

24.02.1940

The superhuman efforts

of the recent past

are giving me gas
in my intestines.

And Eva says I have bad breath.

When I think about what we are
holding in our hands here,

what his hands touched.

When I think about that… here and now…

I'm touching what he held in his hands.

Then, I get a whiff of something…
like an emotion.

Something like history's
ice cold breath.

I have to admit.

What did I want to say?

Right, what's in them?

I did not dare to break the seal,
my Führer, I mean… doctor.

It says so on them… that only
authorized people… explicitly.

Top secret. Property of the Führer.
Keep shut.

And so on… Bormann.

Well, eh,…

That falls under the statute
of limitations, right?

I mean it does not apply
for us anymore.

Pass me those scissors.

Ah, right, that is written
in old German.

That's how the Führer wrote.

Yes, yes.

Kept astoundingly well.

Beautiful old German writing.

Too bad,… too bad, that I
cannot read this now.

Back with the Hitler Youth I used to…
we didn't read or write much, but…

If you like, I can try.

Here it says February 24th, 1940.

February 24th.

1940

Right.

And then,… aha,… the ü, eh, u,…

the superhuman efforts…

of the recent past…

are giving me gas…

in my intestines.

Gas in my intestines. Incredible.
So intimate.

Carry on.

Gas in my intestines and Eversack.

Eversack?

Who's Eversack?

Eversack is bardbath.

Maybe he's alluding to a person named
Eversack Bardbath. Sounds Jewish.

Maybe bad breath?

As I was saying Eversack is a Jew.

And his real last name is badbreath,
and Hitler found out or something…

Just a minute.

Now I know. Incredible.
Such human grandeur.

Uncompromising authenticity.

Go on, what does it say?

It says: The superhuman efforts of recent
times are giving me gas in my intestines,

and Eva says… that I have bad breath.

That is…

that is…

That is sensational.

Adolf Hitler privately.

A person like me and you.

That's a worldwide sensation, gentlemen.

Hermann.

600,000, 700,000, 800,000…
I guess I need to go to the bank.

Go ahead, where's the problem?

Bank's are still closed.

Well then open one!

I am happy to hear you like it.

The way the Führer wrote it,
Mr. Willié.

Hermann.

Hermann from now on.

It's not like I know what's
in them, Hermann.

I was afraid you guys might
not like it. Historically.

Historically this is of
greatest importance

for Germany, for the entire world.

Really?

Every word is most important.

He's sharing his innermost
thoughts every day.

Is that true.

I haven't read it but it's possible
he wrote a bunch of bullshit, right?

No?

Fritz, if you value our friendship

don't talk like that about
the Führer in my presence.

Sorry, Hermann, I didn't
mean it like that.

Nevermind. When can you deliver
the remaining 25 books?

25?

Yes, chop chop, asap.

Put some pressure on them,
they're getting paid for it!

Here's another 100,000,
as an advance.

Thank you, Hermann.

Dr. Wieland, may I introduce
Baroness von Hepp.

The niece of the Reichsmarschall.

What?

Göring.

Frau Göring…

Von Hepp.

Oh, pardon.

No need to apologize
I'm not ashamed of my uncle.

Neither do I.

My uncle, e.g. was
in the resistance.

Yes, I guess neither of us
is to blame for their families.

Of course not, quite the contrary,
maybe the two have met.

I'd say never mind and cheers.

Champagne!

I meant your uncle,… my uncle,…

You're not only weak…
you're a pig.

Oh Fritz, come here,
just once more.

That's enough.

January 30th, 1933

I need to have a serious talk with Eva.

She believes a man
spearheading Germany

has spare time for private affairs

In her youth she does not realize the constant
struggle the German chancellor is facing.

August 1st, 1936

I opened the Olympic Summer Games 1936

All events are sold out.
I hope I'll get tickets for Eva.

November 19th, 1942

At the east face of Watzmann three
young mountaineers were under distress.

I sent 50 mountain infantrists
to their rescue.

What cheek!

This is beyond belief.

What?

Why does nobody show this to us?

Oh, I see.

Why? We are showing it
to you right now.

Why are we finding out now.

Why is the editorship
being left out?

Who's leaving you out we are
putting all our cards on the table.

We're just asking you if you would be interested
in publishing Hitler's secret diaries.

Pardon me Mr. Willié but that's not the point.
Hitler's secret diaries would be a hit.

Globally.

Oh, really, you think?

It's beyond comprehension, indeed.
I mean

this discovery is so unusual
and astounding…

…knowing Mr. Willié I have
only one question:

Which one?

Are they real?

Great question, Uwe.

What do you mean, 'real'?
I don't get it.

Yes, no, I mean, me neither.

That maybe, but this first letter
here looks like an 'F' to me.

And his name was
hardly Fritze Hitler.

That's an F? FH?

That's an 'A', not an 'F'.

No, it's clearly an… 'F'… 'FH'.

Führer Hitler.

That's it, "Führer Hitler".

Nonsense, Führer Hitler…

Maybe 'Flags high", Uwe.

Nonsense.

Führer… Führer…

Führer Hail

Führer's Hound.

Führer's dog?

Führer's Hand?

Führer's…

Head… quarters. Führerhauptquartier!

Führer Headquarters.

February 6th, 1943

Last weeks tension took a
toll on my health.

I have caught a cold from
driving with the roof down.

I have a temperature of 39.5°C.

I have to interrupt
my work repeatedly

Even the most simple tasks
are causing me great difficulties.

I am using up a huge amount of these
convenient new paper tissues.

I am constantly shaken by
violent sneezing spells.

I'm taking lots of medications.

I feel very groggy.

I have strong headaches…

Sometimes it's so bad that
I have a constant ringing in my ears.

It rings, and rings,
and rings, and rings.

What do you look like?

What do you mean?

I look bad.

Last weeks tensions took a
toll on my health.

I have caught a cold from
driving in a convertible.

Here, I have a temperature
of 39.5°C.

Fritz, we need to get
an expertise.

What kind of expertises?

The editorship wants expertises
by independent experts,

which prove beyond any doubt that the
author is Adolf Hitler and nobody else.

I think that is…

I find that…, eh…

That's a great idea, Hermann.

Not a problem.

We'll do a handwriting analysis.

Handwriting analysis?

Yes, you take the original diary in
the Führer's original handwriting,

and compare it to another original
writing done by the original Führer,

also in the same original handwriting.

And then you can compare one
original with the other.

And where can I get such an
original writing by the Führer?

From the Führer, I mean from me,
from those metal boxes.

I'll have to look if I still
have something by the Führer.

Cognac?

The bottle is in the bunker.

In the name of the German people
I order Prof. Dr. Ing. hc. Ferdinand Porsche

to invent a novel 4-cylinder
motor vehicle

with an air-cooled standard engine

priced like a midsize motorbike

low-maintenance, sturdy,
with low fuel consumption.

A car for the entire German people.

A true Volkswagen. Signed, Adolf Hitler.

Oh dear, he has invented the beetle.

Yes, and it still runs.

40.5°C.

I hope he doesn't die.

He's never had a fever
this high with me.

Not with me, either.

How can the doctor say he's fine
when he's burning up.

His heart is beating as if it might
tear him apart any minute.

Say something, Fritz.

Fritzken, tell us what's wrong.

F… f… fear.

You don't need to be afraid any more.
Martha and I had a talk.

Woman to woman.

We get along very well now.

It keeps getting better and better.

Can you keep a secret, father?

What?

Do you know the Corinthians?

Yes, I, Paul,…

etc, etc, etc, etc,…

Now imagine you were suspecting
that these epistles were forgeries.

What?

Not General Paul, I mean the Apostle Paul
was the author, but a sleazy, little…

militaria dealer from Jerusalem.

But why?

Maybe for 40,000 silver pieces.

Per epistle.

From whom?

From some big paper.
Jerusalem magazine or something.

You're in feverish delirium.

No, no, no, father… Imagine you suspected
that somebody screwed you over.

Wouldn't you have to go to your boss?

And tell the holy father that
this Corinthian thing smells,

we shouldn't publish them.

Prof. Dr. Jäggi from Zürich

was able to verify beyond
reasonable doubt

that the documents presented come
from the same author, Adolf Hitler.

Slower and more clearly, please.

Steward Rosenzweig, New York City: After
extensive analysis of the handwriting…

and comparison with the different
documents provided by you…

I have come to the conclusion
that Hitler wrote all of them.

Prof. Siegfried Kessel, London. I recognize
a handwriting very familiar to me…

that of our Führer Adolf Hitler.

One is neutral, one's a Jew, one's an
old Nazi. You can hardly ask for more.

What's up Hermann,
aren't you happy?

I never doubted it for a second.

Exactly.

Yes.

Hermann.

♪ My ideal in this world is a hero,
a tall, blonde man

♪ He comes from a fairyland and gives me
his big strong hand which could rip me apart

♪ That's what my dream man looks
like his name is Ralf or Peer

♪ My reality looks very different
though, won't you listen to this

♪ He's called Waldemar
and he has black hair

♪ He's neither proud nor bold
but I love him

♪ He's called Waldemar,
he won't be a star

♪ His home is Berlin,
but I love him

♪ The boy is the opposite
of my ideal

♪ I don't understand myself
but I don't care

♪ He's called Waldemar,
he has little money

♪ I'll never get an ermine
but I love him

Fritz! Fritzken! Seriously.

Are you also trade east to west?

East to west?

Yes, no. Miss Martha is a close
confidante of my husband.

His…

Secretary.

Private secretary.

My husband's business
has grown so much

Oh really?

Yes, he's expanding every day.
He's bubbling over with ideas.

Can you see this
small white dust?

That her.

Eva?

Yes, Eva.

And the bigger, grayish brown,
coarser particles, that's him.

Adolf?

Yes.

Adolf Hitler and Eva Braun.

Forever and ever.

United in death.

Mixed. Can't be told apart
by a layman.

How much would you want for it?

Well, this is priceless, really.

If at all, I'll only sell
the bundle.

What bundle?

Imagine what has come to light!

What?

I've just heard from a trustworthy source in
Potsdam. The Führer didn't write 30 diaries, but 60!

60? Fritz! That would be…

Expensive, Hermann. Expensive.

40k per volume won't be enough.

And there's lots more.

Secret documents, paintings,
all very secret.

Fritz, give me a spoon full.

Please.

Just a single one.

No, Hermann, I can't just
tear the two apart like that.

Then give me two.

Dear colleagues, I am happy
you made it after all.

Dear Uwe, dear Kurt.

It's our pleasure.

Yes, indeed, Hermann.

Dear colleagues, let me introduce you to
Lieutenant General von Klantz from the SS

and Mr. Strasser, the Führer's art expert.

Dear Lieutenant General, dear Professor,

Our editorship is reporting for duty
if I may say so.

It's a big honor, Gentlemen,

to finally be opening the eyes of the
German people and the rest of the world.

We are fully aware, Lieutenant Colonel…
I mean Lieutenant General.

and to be saying
loudly and clearly, that

there was a human heart in
the Führer's chest, as well.

And what a heart!

One, two, one, two.

Ladies and Gentlemen,

tonight we're celebrating with our host,

our dear old friend Hermann,

his 30 year anniversary in the business.

How he's achieved all of this
with such bravery,

such success,

and never-ending commitment,

will now be told by my little song.

That's how I paid for college.

♪ Hermann, you're a man who
walks his path by himself

♪ Hermann, you look ahead,
even if fate says 'no'

♪ Hermann, you've got heart,
you're no stranger to pain

♪ Just a single joke
and you take courage again

♪ You can't be stopped,
you're boldly reaching for the stars

♪ You'll chase happiness near and far

♪ You've got a nose for the big hit

♪ Mao Zedong, Lumumba, and Kongo-Müller

♪ Hermann, Hermann Willié,
with acute accent

♪ You're the best nose
aboard this ship

♪ Hermann, Hermann Willié,
with acute accent

♪ You're the best nose
aboard this ship

♪ Hermann, Hermann Willié,
with acute accent

♪ You're the best nose
aboard this ship

♪ Hermann, Hermann Willié,
with acute accent

♪ You're the best nose
aboard this ship

You look all messed up.

That's your passion, Hermann.

Oh, really?

Can't you at least put makeup on
before you come to breakfast?

At your age.

You look all wrinkly.

Orange marmalade. Again!

You bitch!

I'm leaving now. Forever.

Well…

Don't speak. Whatever you're
about to say is a lie.

You think you're
on the way up now.

And there's no more room for
people who knew you before.

I get it.

And I get that you want
your triumph all to yourself.

Hope you'll get there.
Hermann. Adieu.

Adieu.

Into the trash? You're throwing
out my paper?

This perfectly terrible
East German paper?

You throw out this precious
old paper like it was junk!

Every single night for over a year
now I sit at this goddamn table

in front of these damn journals
until I want to puke.

57 volumes of Adolf, written by hand,
Biggi, you know what that means?

I don't know who I am anymore.

That I believe.

I know his handwriting better
than my own. I've lost my own.

I've put in superhuman
efforts, Biggi.

And I will shortly have created
the world's biggest work of forgery.

And the two of you?

We're cleaning up.

It was about time.

You are destroying my
means of production!

I have very lucrative orders!

Hitler's book on women.

Hitler's novel on Ludwig II.

Hitler on Blondie, the German
shepherd through the millenia.

And my opera, Biggi.

Opera? You're a composer, too?

Nonsense, shut up you stupid cow.

Biggi, I want to write my opera.

Fritz, get that thought
out of your head.

Oh, Biggi, what a smash hit
that would be!

Wayland, the Smith. A comedic opera
by Adolf Knobel, I mean, Hitler.

Conducted by Leni v. Riefenstahl.

Conducted by Karajan,
premieres in Bayreuth.

That would be…

That would be a cultural
world sensation!

Biggi, and you and me…

and me?

Yes, you too. The three of us
are sitting in the first row.

You'll be sitting in jail,
not in the first row.

What do you think,
heads are going to roll,

when Hitler's secret diaries are
published the whole world will be

watching very closely.

It'll cause such a bang that we'll
better take cover far, far away.

Thank you, thank you.

Thank you, thank you.

Ladies and Gentlemen,

Ladies and Gentlemen,
dear colleagues,

I am happy about the turnout.

I am opening our press conference

Welcoming journalists from 87 nations
as well as 24 foreign TV stations.

From this day on, vast parts of
German history need to be rewritten.

Just between us two, this is
an F, not an A, right?

And he surely wasn't
called Ferdinand.

Of course not.

So what does FH stand for?

Something's rotten, Lieutenant General.

A forgery, Lieutenant General.

Didn't you know?

♪ Do I dream? Am I awake? Do I cry?
Do I laugh? Today I don't know
what I'm doing

♪ Where I stand and walk
people are smiling at me

♪ Today fairy tales come true
and I realize

♪ This will only happen once
and won't come again

♪ It's too good to be true

♪ Like a miracle it's shining
down on us

♪ A golden light from paradise

♪ This will only happen once
and won't come again

♪ It might only be a dream

♪ This only comes around
once in a lifetime

♪ It might be over tomorrow

♪ This only comes around
once in a lifetime

♪ There's only one May each spring

♪ This will only happen once
and won't come again

♪ It's too good to be true

♪ Like a miracle it's shining
down on us

♪ A golden light from paradise

Hermann, Hermann…

Here's the newest expertise
from the Federal Criminal Agency.

Another one? Great, leave it with the
others and grab a bottle of champagne.

Hermann!

The Hitler diaries were certainly
produced after the war.

The tacking threads and glue used had not
yet been available during the Third Reich.

With regards to content
it's a superficial product

of a forger of limited
intellectual capacity.

Passports, please.

The Count

The Countess

Your highness.

There you go.

Safe travels.

Hermann, if you say the words 'big hit'
one more time, I'll punch you in the face.

Don't you realize? If the diaries
are in Hitler's handwriting…

and we have three expertises
that prove that…

but the paper was produced
after the war…

that can only mean…

that you cheated us out of 9 million DM.

For bad breath and gas.

Unsavory smut.

Tasteless.

Disgusting.

No, no, no.

That can only mean that Adolf Führer…

must have written his diaries…

after his death.

And since the dead can't write…

that can only mean that…

he lives.

Who's alive?

Adolf Hitler.

He's alive.

That's the hit of the millennium.

He…

He lives…

Yeah, right.

Yes, yes.

He lives.

I'll prove it to you.

I'll look for him.

And I'll find him.

And when I've found him,

I'll bring him right here,

to Hamburg.

Hamburg is Germany's
leading press city.

You've gotten me into
hot water, Gentlemen.