Original subtitles

Herr Drittemann, you've built your reputation on criticism of the GDR.

Why won't you talk about it?

Let's say I don't feel like it.

I've no interest in talking about it.

Do you expect political restrictions in the West?

I'm ready for anything.

Would you return to the GDR, if you were given permission?

I'd like a visa to visit my family, my son in particular.

Would you like to go back for good?

That's out of the question right now.

Why did you choose music as a way to express your opposition?

I don't think I chose music.

Besides, I believe that music is opposition.

I'd like to repeat a question you still haven't answered clearly.

Why exactly have you come over here? That hasn't been made clear.

I've already said that I was looking for somewhere I could work.

They wouldn't let me work in my own country.

My question is prompted by the striking similarity between your life and your father's.

Both musicians.

Both political dissidents.

- Are you in contact with your father? - No.

Can you talk about your wife?

You've left a wife and son behind in the GDR.

They must feel rather vulnerable now that you've gone.

I don't think so.

My wife has remarried. She's living under different circumstances now.

East Berlin 1968

Herr Drittemann, you are charged with activities against the state,

and offences against the laws of the GDR.

What can we plead in your defence?

Nothing.

- You did write "Freedom for Prague"? - I did.

- Then you must plead guilty. - I don't need a trial, then.

I can't defend you if you won't play along.

Believe me, you've got problems.

It's the people that brought me here who have problems, not me.

That's exactly what I would expect Jacob Drittemann's son to say.

But you can't turn back the wheel of time.

What's that got to do with my father?

Besides, I want to make the wheel turn forwards, not backwards.

You face up to eighteen months' imprisonment.

I could appeal for less, but you'd have to plead guilty.

Forget it!

We could try and settle out of court.

I could persuade the authorities to drop all the charges.

- But under certain conditions. - Such as?

Providing you plead guilty.

In that case, you'd lose your citizenship and be sent abroad.

Of course, it would be a one-way visa.

Listen, this is my country.

My friends and my work are here.

So no deal.

You can tell them that.

That's up to you.

Actually Existing Socialism

In the South or in the North

Nowhere were you satisfied

Search, soul, search!

Search on, but you won't find anything anywhere

Luck will always turn its back on you

Curse, soul, curse!

On a train

You lean out of a window

You believe in ghosts

Search, soul, search!

Search on behind the curtains

That's where malicious faces lurk

Curse, soul, curse!

East Berlin 1985

I'm going to look in on Thomas.

Better take him some cake.

- When are you off tomorrow? - About ten, I think.

I need your guardian angels out of the way early.

I've got a job on.

Can you make it nine?

- I'll try. - Yes, do try.

Thomas, are you awake?

I've brought you some cake.

Do you understand now?

Look, I don't want to leave.

Do you understand?

They won't let me work here.

Why not?

All the dads I know are working.

But not all dads are songwriters, and the people in charge don't like my songs.

They don't like what I sing about.

I'll come back the moment I get a visa.

How long will that take? A week?

It'll take a bit longer than that.

Be a good boy at school, and with Marita.

Goodbye, son.

Take care, Dad.

You too.

I have something for you.

It's lined, best leather.

It'll keep you warm in the West. A going-away present.

Thanks. I'll look like a Stasi.

You could never look like a cop. So nine is all right?

What's the deal?

I've cornered a market in second-hand leather gear that I buy cheap.

I've got a contact in the West. It's a real money-spinner.

May I trouble you for a light?

- If we have any matches. - I don't.

Give him your cigarette.

If it helps, I'll be with my stepfather at the factory till ten.

Then at my mother's, you know the address.

Then the visa office, and that's it.

- It's been nice being followed by you. - Don't push it.

"This machine does the work of 40 men."

"I bet it never does the Central Committee out of a job, though."

Come upstairs, you two. I want a word with you.

- Me, too? - Yes, both of you.

- Is anything wrong? - Just use your eyes.

- Have you seen your mother yet? - No, not yet.

- What time are you leaving? - Don't worry, there's still time.

- Do you think the boys were the artists? - I suspect so.

We'll see…

- Is that your handiwork? - Sorry, I couldn't resist it.

Do anything like that again and I'll drive my boot so far up your arse,

people'll think we're a married couple.

Now clear off!

- We didn't expect anyone to notice. - You're still here?

- Sorry, chief. - Get out!

They're worse than you were.

Why didn't you shop them? You could be held responsible for it.

Because only those two can work the bloody machine.

We've an order to meet, and they're no good behind bars.

I know my socialist duty, boy.

And don't you forget yours when you get to the West.

- Sit down. - How long have you got?

Long enough.

- You've said goodbye to your stepfather? - Yes, I have.

You'll be missed here, but it's your own choice.

- If you say so. - What would you say?

First a kick in the behind, then I'm shown the door.

- Some choice. - No-one says you have to go.

Logic says I must.

You put personal problems before the struggles of the people.

What else can I do?

As one of the people, I'm not allowed to sing about their problems.

Don't be so naïve. You left them no other choice.

I spoke to Comrade Steppat earlier. He's going to ring back.

He says it was a close decision to withhold a return visa.

Mother…

You have admirers on the committee.

Steppat says that if you behave, then maybe in six months, or a year,

you could get your licence back and start performing again.

This country made you.

You were born and raised here.

You owe what you are to your country.

These are your people,

and you spit in their faces.

- I don't want to discuss it. - Perhaps not.

But life is rarely what we want, Klaus.

What is it all about, then?

"Socialism must live in the people."

In you, me, Honecker, Gorbachev.

"Or it lives nowhere." - Marx, Grundrisse.

That's completely out of context.

Why do you think they have this label for their socialism?

"Actual," they call it.

I want true socialism, not their "actual" brand.

What should I do? Become one of their court minstrels?

You remember Martov?

"When a singer goes in for flattery, it makes him an enemy to the song."

He's right.

I don't want to sing for the four state policemen who come to my concerts.

- Don't be stupid. - I've seen them.

You can't fool the people with lies and rosy pictures of life.

They know what life is about.

You say I spit in their faces.

I'd be doing just that if I sang lies, and they'd spit right back.

And rightly so.

If they're my people, why am I forbidden to sing to them?

Tell Steppat that if Jacob Drittemann's son has to keep silent,

he'd sooner be silent where it matters less.

That was Steppat.

He wanted you. I said you'd left.

I'll be off, then.

Are you in touch with your father?

Of course not.

But you'll try to find him?

I might.

When your father fled the country, he left some things behind.

I thought it safer to keep them in the West.

They're yours now.

They'll help you understand your father.

- I don't understand. - Never mind, one day you will.

I must get back to my pupil.

Any messages in case I find him?

And my sister?

- Herr Drittemann? - Yes. You're Lucy Bernstein?

That's right, from Taube Records. Welcome.

What does he want?

It's all right, Uwe's with the company.

It's for the launch.

Great Freedom Street

May I have a light?

Do you gamble?

No. What do you mean?

- Do we go left or right? - Left.

I bet that, if we turn right, the car behind will turn right.

It must be even money. Fifty-fifty?

No, it's a certainty.

We have a word for this in the West.

We call it by its real name.

And what's that?

Surveillance.

Peep show. That's where men pay money

to look at women's bodies.

"Long live…"

"Long live actually existing…"

"Long live actually existing capitalism."

"To whom it may concern. I, Rosa Drittemann, certify

"that the enclosed items belong to my ex-husband, Jacob Drittemann.

"6 October 1953."

Herr Drittemann, I have Herr Braun of Taube Records on the line.

Hello, Braun speaking. I just wanted to see you're all right.

I hope everything's being done to make you welcome.

Everything's fine, thanks.

Excellent. I'll see you on Thursday at your welcoming party.

If you need anything, don't hesitate.

Did you know the Minister for Culture will be at the press conference?

Hennig? No, I didn't.

He indicated he'd like to be there.

What's he got to do with my music?

It won't be a problem. He'll shake your hand and be off.

Fine.

One last question about the contract I've drawn up.

Have you looked at it? Is there anything you'd like to discuss?

I've looked at it.

Right, I'll see you Thursday.

You haven't really answered my questions.

I know nothing in either German or English,

or even in American.

Excuse me, aren't you Rainer Schiff?

Could I have your autograph, please?

I once considered myself a decent poet.

A five-minute, badly lit part in a Herzog film cured me of that.

The West needs fewer tools of repression.

It gets great results just by using its powers of seduction.

We're still not free.

See you Thursday, and don't worry.

They'll have you home as soon as you earn real money.

Remember, compared to foreign exchange, ideology is worthless.

The day is over, twilight beckons

The waitress brings beer as if everything is still as it was

Talking to myself is much too loud

Tonight I'll take the River Spree as my bride

What more do you want, son?

Rain falls on the Tauentzien

The bus goes down to Leninplatz

"Can I have your tickets, please?"

All the way to the end of the line

A daily morning marathon

Where do they all come from?

The night is over, the morning pales

And nobody knows anything at all

How long ago is it now?

Where yesterday the wall stood

A couple walk, hand in hand

What more do you want, son?

"Klaus Drittemann moves to West Berlin"

- Herr Drittemann? - That's me.

Emma de Baen.

Come in.

Do you speak any German?

How did you get hold of her?

Have you met your latest protégé yet?

This is Herr Drittemann, Herr Braun.

Ladies and gentlemen, I am delighted to announce

that Herr Drittemann has received his West German passport today.

May he live in freedom among us.

Thank you. The CIA wasn't so sure I'd get it.

The CIA doesn't run everything here.

- And the American visa? - That will take a bit longer.

Rainer, have you shown Renata your new tape?

She doesn't realise what a great video director you are.

I wouldn't talk too much about it.

You'd better keep quiet until you've reached a stronger position.

What about your contract?

Can we agree on it before the press conference?

Are you a lawyer, Herr Braun?

I trained as one, yes.

As my lawyer, what would you advise me to do with the contract?

I would say sign it.

You couldn't get a better deal.

Taube Records is the only progressive music label left in Germany.

EMI would eat you alive.

How many more reasons do you need?

Sorry, I may be a bit naïve,

but being a commodity isn't something which comes naturally to me.

I've only read about it.

"A historical phenomenon widespread under capitalism."

I've always considered it irrelevant, and probably it'll remain so.

Before I can analyse your plans for my "exploitation" in the music business,

I need to find out whether I am able to live and work here.

Whether I have anything to say here.

Ladies and gentlemen, Taube Records welcomes you to this press conference.

Herr Drittemann has been in the West for just 100 hours.

I'm sure you'll have many questions.

We're also expecting the Minister of Culture, Herr Hennig.

Herr Drittemann, aren't you afraid

of becoming just as unwanted in the West as you are in the East?

Not at the moment.

You've left a wife and son behind.

Will that make life difficult for them?

No, my former wife has remarried.

She has a new family now.

They lead their own lives. They can't be held responsible for anything.

They're not in any danger.

A question: do you see your presence here in the West

as a protest against cultural control in the GDR?

I have no intention of saying any such thing.

Nor was it my intention to protest against anything.

Wasn't coming here a political decision?

My decision is related solely to my work.

May I ask, are you in contact with your father?

I'm not!

I asked about your father,

because I was struck by the similarity between your lives.

You're both musicians.

You're both political dissidents.

Both of you criticised your country's political system.

And you were both forced to leave your country for the West.

I never knew that was hereditary.

On the contrary.

I think, and I'm sure you agree,

that it has to do with the political system.

I'm not here to talk about my country.

I've already said what I wanted to say.

There's nothing more I wish to add.

My readers would like to hear Minister Hennig's comments.

Since he is here now, perhaps he can say a few words.

First, let me apologise for arriving late,

and for having to leave early.

But I didn't want to miss the opportunity of welcoming Herr Drittemann.

Herr Drittemann is an artist raised in the GDR.

To us it means first and foremost that he is a German…

whose destiny reflects the tragedy of our divided country.

Over there he is known as a famous critic.

And I'm sure that he'll go on writing his songs here.

And that some of us may not agree with his lyrics, myself included.

But, speaking as a man who has fought for cultural freedom all his life,

here, he will be allowed to do this.

He will be free to speak his mind without fear of the consequences.

Indeed, it often seems the more critical you are, the more you earn.

So I'm not all that worried about Herr Drittemann's future with us.

I therefore wish him and his music all the best.

May he live in peace and freedom among us.

Minister Hennig!

Thank you for greeting me as a German.

And not as if I were a Turk or, worse, a Tamil immigrant.

However, what you say about freedom makes me laugh.

I've seen your repressive tolerance on TV and even had a taste of it myself.

I know one can't speak freely here, because it won't be published.

What use is your work if it's not going to be published or recorded?

What use is your freedom if you're not allowed to work?

Maybe I was restricted in the East, but they also applauded my criticism.

How about the prohibitions in your country or the two million "unemployed"?

And the Bitburg affair, when you honoured graves of former Nazis?

That also touches on freedom and on coming to grips with your past.

So I consider you,

and the state you represent here,

as successors of fascist Germany.

That has nothing to do with freedom.

I wish you free life here, with us.

Enjoy your freedom, and sleep safely in your bed.

I'm not taken in by you, Herr Hennig.

Stalinism is not Socialism. Capitalism is not Freedom.

"Berlin, 20 July 1953.

"Rosa, by the time you read this, I'll be in the West.

"Whatever you think or imagine you know to be the case about me,

"I promise you none of it was planned.

"Since Spain, and before perhaps, I have been driven by haphazardness,

"and a sort of terrible innocence.

"I do not so much do as find myself doing.

"To the charge of innocence I must plead guilty.

"Venial enough, you would think.

"Yet here I am, dishonoured in your eyes and separated from my children.

"No doubt I'll survive it all.

"But, for what purpose, I cannot at the moment imagine."

I'm singing my blues for a man

Who could tell a tale or two

About how red the hatred was near Madrid

In the hills of Castile

And if you want to know if this man was a hero

Then ask the stones on the street

In Guadalajara

I'm singing my blues for a man

Who could tell a tale or two

About how red hope was in those ruins

Where now new buildings stand

About his homeland where he made no ground

And left with no goodbye

If you don't know where to go, you know how I feel

And my blues

He left his homeland where he made no ground

Without a word of goodbye

If you don't know where to go, you know how I feel

And my blues

Excuse me, Comrade Drittemann.

I believe these are yours.

Guilty!

I'm singing my blues for a man

Who could tell a tale or two

How red hope was in those ruins

Where now new buildings stand

He left his country where he made no ground

Without a word of goodbye

If you don't know where to go, you know how I feel

And my blues

I'm singing my blues in red

For someone who can't hear me

Singing like a child

Lonely in the dark

I'm singing the blues in red

For someone who can't hear me

Singing like a child

Lonely in the dark

I'm singing the blues in red

I'm singing the blues for a man

Who could tell a tale or two

About how red fear can be

Just before you go to the dogs

I'm singing the blues in red

For someone who can't hear me

Singing like a child

Lonely in the dark

I'm singing the blues in red

SUBTITLES BY POWERHOUSE FILMS LTD