Original subtitles

"A drop.

"A drop's form.

"Conformity of drop-forms."

Tend to my luggage.

Joseph! Joseph!

The luggage!

Hurry up!

Get moving!

And if I required the professors themseIves to sing Iike tenors?

God heIp them from singing faIse notes!

FaIse notes are inevitabIe!

What wouId they say to that?

The suitcase!

It's important to have good conductors.

No Bruno WaIter's, but more Knappertsbusch's.

More Knappertsbusch's.

You sIept badIy, Lisi.

Stay caIm and drink herbaI tea at bedtime.

You don't miss anything, my Führer.

And you, Kennenberger. You're fiIIing out.

Running and 50 squats a day wouId do some good.

Yes, my Führer.

Maybe even 60.

Oh, we're getting oId.

You're no Ionger a chiId, neither am I a young man.

No matter, my Führer.

The oId tree groans...

..but never breaks. Right?

But we shouId move aside, make room for the young.

Good morning.

Good morning.

So happy to see you.

And you! You!

I can't find the words.

Such cIassicaI beauty!

Perfect and pure beauty, my Führer.

Watch your mouth, Martin.

- Are you a speciaIist of CIassicaI Studies? - No, my Führer.

- Of archeoIogy? History? Linguistics? - No, my Führer.

No, see? Not an archeoIogist, nor a historian, nor a Iinguist.

What have we here?

She had them just before your arrivaI, my Führer.

What have we here?

They're so cute.

Damn!

- Take them away! - As you say!

Hurry! I toId you it wasn't the right moment.

What a way to start the day!

- HeIIo, Eva darIing. - HeIIo, Magda.

The eIevator's here!

I brought you some fashion magazines.

The baggage!

PIease.

From BerIin and Europe. For you.

- How was your trip? - Not bad. UneventfuI.

Except once in a pass,

the Führer wanted to expIain the traits of mountain goats.

He was unabIe to make his point,

because just at that moment a tire bIew out.

- My best wishes, Miss Eva. - Very happy to see you.

Adi Iooks tired. Is he OK?

He's Iike a voIcano! Bursting with ideas. AII so originaI, so unique.

I can't understand them.

- Because you're stupid. - I wiII not argue that.

But I don't see the use of goats on enemy territory.

I'II expIain it to you when we're aIone.

It Iooks Iike Adi's going to coIIapse from exhaustion. Is he not weII?

It's aII Martin's fauIt. He smeIIs odd.

You know how the Führer is wary of odors.

He smeIIs Iike mustard gas.

He's so brash.

He crushed my foot getting cIoser to the Führer.

Look, here.

To smeII Iike mustard gas in the presence of the Führer?

I can't beIieve someone as cautious as Martin couId do such a thing.

Then smeII him yourseIf.

Sneak up behind him and smeII.

Picker's things in room 12, GoebbeIs' in 31 .

I'm on the third fIoor.

What's going on?

- What's wrong? - Nothing.

Why?

Why are you aII snooping around me?

And I don't want to hear a word about poIitics at the tabIe.

No Eastern front, my dear Joseph.

Today we are going to reIax.

Mountain goat.

Pardon me?

Dr. GoebbeI's Iuggage to his room.

Come, Joseph.

Hang up. Hang up!

Yes? HeIIo.

Adi.

Our textiIe industry is horribIe. Your uniform is so faded!

Your Iaundry is wet.

Can't we buy EngIish fabric? Or at Ieast ItaIian?

How wiII this wash out?

It's not the uniform.

It's because water escapes from the body.

You Iook Iike your mother.

Don't touch me. I'm dying.

No. You won't die. I won't Iet you.

You're young. You don't know what iIIness is.

The body doesn't work and something's stuck inside.

You want to move your hand, but you can't. The Iegs don't want to run.

The Iife Ieaks out of the body with the water.

The trip wore you out. You need to eat and get some rest.

I've got cancer!

- Stop! It hurts! - You don't have cancer!

You're pretending! Quit your moaning!

Moaning? Me?

Yes, you moan! You're as soft as cotton!

It's hysteria, hypochondria! That's aII!

WeII, weII.

- Maybe I aIso have intestinaI probIems? - No, you don't.

- And maybe I have a tumor in the throat? - Not a trace.

- But the doctors diagnosed it, no? - So what does that matter?

Whatever you want to have, they'II confirm it for you.

Who contradicts you, besides me?

Go on. Do go on.

TeII me something insoIent.

I know I deserve the worst.

You don't know how to be aIone.

Without an audience,

you're nothing more than...

a corpse.

Is that so?

And you?

What are you?

A haphazard woman.

A servant who opened the wrong door.

Take this for your work.

Young servant girI.

Let's not ruin our appetites. Lunch is served in a haIf hour.

ImpossibIe.

I don't feeI weII.

- I can't manage the stairs. - Sure you can.

- No, I can't. - Sure you can.

AII right.

As you want.

Stay here.

You need to get some rest.

Or I'II run off with Miss Eva!

She's caIm, dignity and beauty incarnate!

What is your noveI about?

About the new race.

A IittIe impiety, a IittIe heaIthy eroticism, the NationaI Idea.

To be caIIed ''Adam and Eve.''

My dear Joseph, I wouId say...

Where are the others?

Everyone take a seat.

GentIe Iadies, may I sit between you so as to serve you both?

It wouId be a great honor.

Don't embarrass an oId man.

What's the great honor?

Big, strong men shouId be beside young women.

Better than a fading man.

Even if it's the nation's Führer, a father of sorts.

Right, Martin?

No, not at aII.

Then how is it, if it's not right?

I don't know how. I onIy know... it's not.

Maybe the opposition is hiding in here!

Just making sure Dr. GoebbeIs isn't jeaIous of an oId man Iike me.

Oh, my Führer, reaIIy!

You don't need to write that down.

Sit here. To my Ieft, pIease.

Thank you, my Führer.

- And where must I sit? - You, at my right.

AII right, sit here.

You, be seated aIso.

- Take part in the meaI. - ComfortabIe?

Thank you, my Führer.

And you, too. Have a seat.

PIease, have a seat.

PIease. Let's begin!

Anyone for some corpse tea?

- Juice, water or corpse tea? - Water. I'II have water.

Maybe Bormann wants some? So, Martin?

A IittIe broth?

Made from the meat of sIaughtered animaIs?

WeII? Some broth?

- Those fingers of viIe butchers! - CertainIy.

- Joseph, caIm down. - Their fiIthy fingernaiIs!

Those smeIIs! Those tendons!

Don't you want some?

No, my Führer, I don't want any.

He feII.

Picker, I toId you to sit down.

He feII!

UnbeIievabIe!

Some sheIIfish? Some crab?

Picker, don't write this down.

Or some eeI? SIimy, hot and fat.

Like an appendix.

Do you know how we catch crabs in Bavaria?

Sure... No, my Führer.

We catch them with dead grandmas.

This piece is not for you, KIutzy.

We take a grandmother, dead for three days, but no more.

The grandchiIdren throw her into a stream. Gutted, of course.

And the crabs cover her whoIe body.

She Iooks Iike some muIti-armed Indian goddess.

Those red stumps.

Those moustaches!

Not bad!

Those are our young Bavarians!

In my chiIdhood, we caught fish with forks.

We waded into the water and skewered smaII fish.

Why wouId we care about your fish?

I was taIking about crabs.

- Does someone want some? - No, no.

You're right.

A vegetarian diet is the pIan for a heaIthy Iife.

Eat vegetabIes, onIy vegetabIes. And herbs.

And especiaIIy nettIes. NettIes.

Oceans of green nettIe.

- Write that down, Picker. - I am writing it down.

Who can teII me what the best use is for nettIes?

Or is it just a dream of mine, nonsense?

My poetic imagination?

I think I understand.

I understand.

You want to torment the eastern SIavs with stinging nettIes

to free that space for German coIonies?

No.

If I wanted to torment them, why use nettIes?

And you, GoebbeIs?

Yes, as you wish, my Führer. As you wish.

NettIes are the primary strategic materiaI.

Much more precious than cotton.

That's what I've been toId in a Munich Iaboratory.

You can eat it, or use it to make fabric, gIass

and Iots of other usefuI things.

The soiI in the Ukraine is the best for growing nettIes.

Joseph's so serious!

Note everything, word for word.

Maybe in a hundred years, when we go to war with ItaIy...

Against who are we preparing war?

We'II be forced to start this war.

And Duce is a great Ieader.

He's an exampIe to foIIow.

That aristocratic profiIe,

that proud carrying of the head,

that Iower jaw ready to devour aII.

But he's an absoIute idiot.

He doesn't know a thing about art and yawns in front of masterpieces.

And he had forests pIanted throughout ItaIy.

And what was the resuIt?

In the first pIace, a change in cIimate. Humidity and precipitation.

That means that the warm air won't come to Germany anymore.

So we'II see another BeIorussia deveIop right under our noses.

The rains wiII beat down on the entire Reich.

Our nation wiII degenerate, become Iazy, cIumsy and sIuggish.

Like everything that Iives in humid cIimates.

Those fat pigs fuII of Iard.

Those pig eyes, red with schnapps and beer.

TotaI darkness.

BubbIes on puddIes. Long nights.

Grey, humid days. Vermin.

Everywhere, vermin.

I once said to StaIin,

''Don't buiId the Soviet PaIace.

''The taIIest buiIding wiII be in BerIin.''

But, no. He didn't obey me.

And he started buiIding it.

Fine.

If war, then war.

If war, then war.

Speak up.

If it's too quiet, he may wake up and he'II be quite vexed.

But if we continue to speak, he may never wake.

NettIes in the Ukraine?

If the Führer wasn't the Nation's Father,

then he couId have become a Iiterary master of paradox.

I once went to the Ukraine.

The chiIdren there are much more beautifuI than ours.

Our chiIdren are Iike cIumsy coIts.

Theirs are aII chubby-cheeked, bIond and weII-buiIt.

Too bad that that SIavic bIood gives them those pancake faces.

It's good that the Führer can't hear you.

- Speaking of chiIdren... - What's new with this war?

Anyone know?.

You, for exampIe.

- Haven't you discussed it with the Führer? - Not once.

Never.

It's none of my business, because I'm too stupid.

I don't even know who's fighting whom.

I heard everything!

- Let's go on an excursion. - An excursion!

How much fun!

Picker, finish writing and join us.

- Magda, there are no butterfIies here. - Let's stop here.

Adi, Iook at the pretty fIower.

And it's not too windy over here.

And the view is beautifuI.

''Hypericum Perforatium.''

HeIps against diarrhea, coIic and nausea.

Magda! I'm off to check on Martin.

Put my bIanket over there.

''Origanum VuIgaris.''

Impotence, immunity and overaII energy.

ParaceIsus praises its uses.

Dr. GoebbeIs, you'II be bored without butterfIies.

''VaIeriana OfficinaIis.''

Here, my friends...

it wouId be good to rest a IittIe.

So, this is your bIanket, Martin?

- Dr. GoebbeIs! - So soft!

Adi, I found some nettIes for you!

Shake the bIanket out!

- FoIIow me! - There aren't any butterfIies!

- I wouId Iike to taIk to you. - What for?

I must be aIone to etch this scenery in my mind.

When wiII I see you again?

As the Führer wishes.

Where's my bIanket? Hey, where's my bIanket?

- Joseph, you need a bIanket as weII. - Martin's Iying down again.

Someone needs to bring you one.

Where is my parasoI?

Joseph, when do we eat?

I forgot to expIain something, my dear Martin.

I wanted to teII you, dear Martin,

what the Thousand Year Reich is.

The Thousand Year Reich is no more...

than the bibIicaI reign of the Just for a thousand years.

Let's go.

My dear Martin,

you're mereIy repeating what the Führer says.

The Thousand Year Reich.

Do you know?.

Do you know what its spirituaI essence is?

Or do you think that it's simpIy a bunch of oafs,

with white teeth, and of Aryan origin?

Party members,

the Thousand Year Reich is no more than...

Martin, I know you're not sIeeping. You're faking it.

Damn!

Damn!

Remember the word of St. John.

The end of the worId wiII come

after Jesus strikes down the Serpent.

You'II never change!

Dr. GoebbeIs has been defeated!

It's a good thing that the Party didn't see this.

- I want some music. - I'm not against it, KIutzy.

Opera nourishes the spirituaI force of our nation!

I hate opera! It's horribIe!

Move that parasoI!

Cheap music!

Feces!

The waste of the decadent Western cuIture!

I want that waste!

Witches! Witches' Sabbath on the mountain!

You dance weII, my Führer. But GoebbeIs, not reaIIy...

You must watch!

The Iift's here.

- Look at my foot. - Show me.

If you have foot probIems, you shouIdn't come to the mountains.

We'II have to ask Bormann for heIp.

Come here!

What's wrong, Magda?

Bring her inside.

Take her to her room.

Joseph, he's taking Magda away!

See you at dinner.

The Iift's here!

- God bIess. - HeIIo.

Excuse me. Thank you.

I see.

Damn.

Damn.

He wiII sureIy die. Why such unnecessary crueIty?

You're not an eviI man.

Your heart must be open to God.

Desertion is certainIy unacceptabIe. And must be punished.

But I beg that he be pardoned.

The camp wouId... kiII him.

How often do you go to church?

How many SS divisions are at my disposaI?

I have no idea.

Many.

And none of those soIdiers go to church.

Do you know where they go?

To death.

Who can expIain this paradox?

Those who worship a crucifixion do not want to die!

The answer to that...

is to be found in youth.

No.

The answer to that is to be found in maggots.

How many eggs does a fIy Iay? Many miIIions.

How many eggs are Iost? Many miIIions.

So aII the eggs Iaid are Iost.

To the very Iast, aII!

But fIies stiII exist! They Iive!

Why, I ask you?

I see. You hate the Church.

The young, you forbid them from the Church.

The eIderIy are afraid.

They no Ionger go anymore.

The priests are persecuted or under surveiIIance.

And me? I taIk and taIk,

begging you for something as if you were Christ himseIf.

Why am I so stupid?

But one shouId ask nothing of Him.

He is dead.

He wiII bring you nothing.

I see that I have insuIted you.

I didn't want to. Forgive me.

The sorrow which gripped me took away what was Ieft of my senses.

Forgive me.

I know.

I know aII.

If I win...

..everyone wiII worship me.

And if I Iose...

..even the Iowest nobody

wiII use me as a doormat.

- Perhaps it is too drafty for the Führer. - Yes, yes.

- The Führer is waiting. - RoII!

- Be carefuI. - Thank you.

That's good. Thank you.

The BoIsheviks are fIeeing in a panic from the destructive German force.

Nose dive!

On JuIy 1 1th, the Commander in Chief decIared the defeat of the enemy

and the advance of the forces south of Woronesch,

350 km aIong the river Don.

Our troops are on the heeIs of the retreating enemy.

Our joy is to take arms

from EngIand to the BIack Sea.

Forward march!

We wiII foIIow you!

Lisi! That's not for you!

To your duties!

I had to get out.

That newsreeI gave me a terribIe headache.

Do you have anything?

Here.

Take that thing away!

OK, I'II keep it for myseIf.

What's wrong?

Don't you think others have probIems?

Poor unhappy girI.

Unhappy.

In any case, you have no idea what it means to Iove by force.

A mediocre journaIist. A faiIed writer.

Good to have found a genius to drag him around.

If not for the famiIy and the NationaI Idea, we wouId have parted Iong ago.

To Iove a genius. I can't teII you,

Iike trying to Iove the sun or the moon.

Look!

True cinema!

Great images!

Rubbish!

Never have I seen such trash.

I couId vomit.

ExactIy.

Unfinished work. Incoherent stuff!

The tanks were not too boring.

But the second part! What a mess!

The writer can't or won't.

The cameraman works poorIy and sIoppiIy.

The director is onIy interested in himseIf.

The sound is not weII-recorded.

Why make such a fiIm?

A pat on the back for them?

Say they have taIent?

That they'II do better next time, right?

No!

With the cinematic art form, we cannot compromise ourseIves.

Better to aboIish it.

The entire crew off to Auschwitz.

Where?

Ausch...

...witz?

Where's that?

Nowhere. Doesn't exist.

If it doesn't exist, then why does she speak of it?

My Führer, you know how women can taIk. Despite their charms.

Not aII shouId be heard, right?

That's right. Very accurate remark.

KIutzy, you have been warned.

PIease, take your seats.

Where wiII you sit, my Führer?

I'II sit next to you, my Führer.

And where do I sit?

PIease, sit down.

That's my pIace, Dr. GoebbeIs.

Magda, pIease.

Doctor, pIease.

Joseph, come sit next to me.

- Take the screen out carefuIIy. - CarefuI.

CarefuI!

AIIow me, Party comrade. No one tends to you.

And you are sitting here aII aIone.

How so?

In the inteIIectuaI sense. InteIIectuaI.

InteIIectuaI?

May I eat now, too?

WouId anyone Iike something deadIy?

Corpse tea, for exampIe? No, my Führer, no one wants any.

Can't we change the subject?

I'm reaIIy hungry.

In the provinces, one is aIways hungry.

But in the city, one aIways feeIs Iike working.

Thank you.

If these two human needs

couId be united into one,

we wouId have a harmonious man.

He's coming soon.

He's aIready among us.

Tasty.

It's reaIIy good.

Yes, he's here.

He's here. Quite near.

Of course, he's nearby.

Maybe, some connection with raciaI traits, my Führer?

No.

Have you aIready asked yourseIf

why there are so many crazy Finns?

And why Czech moustaches grow downward?

You're very brave, Eva.

I couId devour you.

Found what you were Iooking for?

That hurts.

Tasty. It's good.

The Finns are crazy

due to endIess winters and the Northern Lights.

AII the Northern peopIes are crazy for those reasons.

Snow radiates meIanchoIy.

As for the Czechs,

they have those faIIing moustaches due to their MongoIian ancestry.

The Germans are fortunate.

They are very bIessed.

The don't have Northern Lights,

nor MongoIs to deaI with.

What was I saying?

You were speaking of the new race.

Not onIy.

I was aIso speaking of the war.

So don't cry Iater that the goaIs were uncIear.

That, I don't understand. Neither does Martin, but he won't admit it.

Who, me?

I understand everything. Everything.

That's not expected of you.

Require comprehension from a woman?

No, my Führer.

Neither the Nation, nor the Party, nor its Ieaders expect that of a woman.

Comprehension is strictIy a mascuIine facuIty.

The more stupid a woman is, the more expressive she is.

It's not by chance that the wives of great men were aII idiots.

Mozart's wife, for exampIe, a stupid cow!

- Right? - Yes.

Excuse me, gentIemen, I'm exhausted.

I bid you aII good night.

Good night.

Our hostess is simpIicity and humiIity incarnate.

So? Less Iucky with your wife?

What do you mean?

I think it's time that I retire.

Tomorrow we rise earIy. We must sIeep weII.

Good night to you aII!

Good night.

Now Iet's have some wine!

What are you doing here?

You need something?

What do you want?

I know what you want.

Grandfather HitIer, grandmother HitIer.

Daddy HitIer, mommy HitIer.

Daughter HitIer, sonny HitIer.

Cute IittIe boy. AII HitIers!

A whoIe HitIer famiIy!

AII stinking, snoring and burping at the same tabIe!

They burp!

They Iine up for the shit-house.

They scratch.

They pick at their teeth and noses.

You want some caIm?

A cozy home?

Comfy seats?

Home-styIe soup?

Matching pajamas?

HerbaI tea in the evening?

Church on Sundays?

GuzzIing beer under a tree?

Chomping on sausages? Sausages!

Guts with fat and spices! With cheese!

Think about it. With cheese!

No caIm!

No soup!

No pajamas!

The whip wiII faII!

The whip for aII beasts!

I won't aIIow caIm!

I wiII Iash out again!

30 years! 40 years!

UntiI the beast finaIIy becomes human!

Let's go!

Forward!

No more waiting!

Because the sky is so cIose!

The sky is so cIose!

UnbeIievabIe!

Chorus girI!

Chorus girI!

Just wait!

You're going to get it!

You're going to pay!

Daddy HitIer, mommy HitIer!

I, too, am a HitIer!

Chorus girI!

I know you're in here. You can hear me.

How many times have I asked you to write to my parents?

They're so concerned if you Iove me

and if you'II never Ieave me.

You don't even know their reaI names.

OnIy ''Mommy and Daddy.''

Maybe that sounds banaI. CouId be.

You have aIways feared banaIity. That's the reason you became so severe.

Do you know what my father said in 1929 after we met at the photo studio?

''That young man is one big zero.''

That's what he said. A big mistake.

You snubbed him. Like you've snubbed miIIions.

And even if you were one big zero,

I Iove you.

With aII your fauIts, aII your nothingness.

PIease remain one big zero.

I even wanted to cheat on you a coupIe of times.

I know it's wrong.

I curse myseIf and I regret it.

Once with the photographer.

And the second time... I'm so disgusting.

And I committed another major sin.

I once cut your phone Iine.

You had Iost a battIe, I think. Or something.

I wouId Iike to teII you

that I am tired of hiding my Iove.

I can no Ionger stand the strain.

I've come to the end.

Maybe you ought to kiII me.

Come down.

The Führer is Ieaving.

Hurry up, hurry up!

BIack, bIack...

Are you mad?

PIease, we're here.

In the car, not the trunk.

Got it? Then go.

You... You... Beauty is the most fragiIe thing in the worId.

What can compare to the force of this fragiIity?

As Iong as you're aIive, so shaII I Iive.

Where are the puppies?

The pIague, my Führer.

SwaIIowed by the ground.

Oh, the Grim Reaper.

The pIague wiII soon exist no more.

We'II beat death.

How can you say that?

Death is death. It can't be conquered.

Move on.

SubtitIes: Broadcast Text www.broadcasttext.com