Original subtitles

God Almighty, who is it now?

-Herman? -Yes, I'll answer it again, Ies.

Good afternoon, sir. Young man.

-Are you Herman Silverstein? -Yes.

I'm Cornelis Raaymakers. I believe this is your father's coat.

My father kept it

and I've been wanting to return it to you for a long time.

-I don't understand this gesture. -You don't understand me.

On the contrary, I understand perfectly.

Ies, go away. Saar, leave.

You're right.

For years I wanted to be as far away from home as possible.

Away from my father.

Away from the tyranny of his love.

Away from the eternal…

past.

-So heavy. -It's autumn already.

It's backbreaking. It's so heavy with all those onions.

-Way too many onions. -There are two onions.

They can't be that heavy. You can carry those, can't you?

-This is fucking backbreaking. -Cut it out. Stop your whining.

-Good morning. Everything's ready, ma'am. -Very nice, thank you.

Why do you close the door on me? I'm standing here with my arms full.

-Good morning, Mr. Herman. -Muna. Sorry, I thought you were my wife.

See you on Friday.

-Look at your shoes. -That's just some flour.

When they taste this…

They'll never want to return to the States.

Did you remember Sara's a vegetarian?

-Yes. -No, you forgot.

She isn't always like that, is she?

Looking back, I see the same night, time and again.

The evening of our return from LA.

Life used to be light there, free.

No dead weight.

My homesickness, however, didn't care one bit.

-Hi. -Hey, Mom.

I'd missed them terribly.

-Were you there for long? -No.

Hi, honey.

-Hi, Grandma. -Hello, sweetheart.

My cheerful, sensible mother.

How was your flight?

My difficult, lonely, quick-tempered father.

Where is he?

The Great Helmsman is upstairs. He cut his finger, drama.

You're so late.

-Dad, what did you do? -No omelet without breaking some eggs.

Watch it, careful. Hi, sweetheart.

-Hi, Jacob. -Herman.

-You look increasingly young. -I'm not buying it.

-You and your Hollywood talk. -No, I'm serious.

There's a draft. Close the door. Let me have a look at you.

What's that hanging from your ears, all those rings, garlands and buttons?

-It looks good. -That's in fashion now, Grandpa.

Hi, sweetie.

-Wow, you lost a lot of weight. -Thanks.

You're getting prettier every time.

-Hi, Dad. -Where did you come from?

Interview with an ecologist. The Flood is nigh and it's all our fault.

Hey, Sis.

Welcome to our Ark. You're safe here, amidst the lions and elephants.

-Wonderful. -Who is the piece for?

Dad, you still don't know what newspaper I write for?

Of course I know. Give me a break.

Lovely, thanks.

-Where's Michael? -He'll be here tomorrow.

Tomorrow?

Why wasn't I informed?

What about my cabbage rolls?

Ies, why didn't you tell me? I need to know.

You're making enough for three days.

Yes, but you're getting something really special later on.

Big, greasy heaps.

I'm afraid Dad thinks we came swimming all the way from LA.

Come and have a drink with us. The kids just stepped off the plane.

-Delicious. -It's really good.

-You can't have it, can you? -No.

-Shall I help you? -No, I can take care of it.

The king of the kitchen doesn't want that.

My darling mother.

She used to be a very strict French teacher.

But with us she was always cheerful and flexible.

I was home again.

With my sister and her endless heartbreaks.

-That's great. And Tess? -I tried to sell it as one big adventure.

I can hear you.

-Aunt Juud, I could've gone to Coachella. -I understand.

-How's your love life, Juud? -Do you have a minute?

Are you smoking another filthy cigar?

Filthy cigar? This is a Montecristo No. 2.

This was Ridley Scott's cigar. When he still smoked.

-He's a bitch. -A bitch?

He has such an awkwardly long name. Balthazar, just like a restaurant.

-I call him "Bal." -Seriously?

You don't call someone you like "Bal," do you?

-We're through. -No.

-Fear of commitment. -He said that? Such a stupid expression.

He called me ten times a day.

He even told his son I was the love of his life.

But not a day later he says he's not up to it all.

-In bed, of all places. -He wasn't up to it in bed?

I thought you weren't listening.

-No, goofball. He said it in bed. -Yes, that makes him a bitch.

But anyway, whatever.

I'll be a commitment-phobe from now on as well.

First a good fuck and then, "Sorry, bye."

Easy, Herman. I'm going.

Silverstein panic.

-Grandma. -Hi, darling.

-Mich. -What a surprise. So nice.

Already?

O, Mich. You're here already. I want to know everything.

-Where did you come from? -Colombia.

-Smurf. -Hey, Smurfette.

O my God, you look like a homeless person.

-There was an earlier flight. -He looks like Johnny Depp.

-Hey, Auntie Juud. -You've grown, dude.

Where are Dad and Grandpa?

-Hey, Michael. -Hey, Grandpa.

You're just like a rabbi with a yarmulka.

I have to put my stew in the oven, quickly.

My boy.

Did you bring something for dinner or are you going for the Lonely Planet look?

Why?

-Grandma, is there time to freshen up? -Sure. You know the way.

-Goddammit. -I'll go.

-No, my sweet Sara, let me. -Ladies.

Relax. Let me, okay?

Grandpa, I'm coming.

My sweet Mich.

He's the only one who can be with Dad right now.

We'll never know what's being swept up.

Jacob is always in a good mood.

No one resembles Dad less than he does.

-Everything alright here? -Sure.

I just need to clean up a bit.

-Let's go, Grandpa. It's alright. -You think so?

-Sure, it's alright. -Let's go then.

-Look at this. -Delicious.

-Here you go. Pass it on. -Yes.

-Smells great, Dad. -Nice, huh?

Michael just told me

he had to compete with brilliant Asians in Santa Monica.

Grandpa, a tsunami of brilliant Asians.

You're not allowed to say that these days. Weird, huh?

What are you doing? Are you taking out all that precious meat?

She's a vegetarian, has been for years. Why do you keep forgetting that?

Dad, it's delicious.

It's hard to believe we're here now.

When we boarded with KLM, I nearly started crying.

"Goeiemiddag," they said. We got the Volkskrant.

All those cute flight attendants and their fat butts.

In LA no one has a fat butt anymore.

You're either neurotically toned, or you're hopelessly obese.

You and your fat butt. You're scared shitless of a fat butt.

Scared shitless?

I didn't know then what being scared meant.

After LA with its howling sirens and trembling earth,

I felt safe again here for the first time.

-Dad, let it go. -A joke?

Little did I know this would be our last family dinner.

-Do you have to do this now? -We just sat down.

I had no concept of real fear.

I'll be right back.

-Silverstein. -Herman, am I interrupting your dinner?

-How nice of you to call. -Nice? You think that's nice?

I'm going broke, fool. And for what? I'll lose my business.

I tried everything, but it's out of my hands.

Dirty hypocrite, you're a bullshitter. You didn't do anything.

It's not my fault.

So you're an expert now, is that what I'm hearing?

-The boy is allowed his secrets. -It was a joke.

You can assume it's just as unpleasant for me.

It will certainly become unpleasant, Herman. Believe me.

We'll have lunch, alright? Bye.

Hey, Daddy.

Are you joining us soon?

What's that?

I don't want it.

Who was it? What were you doing?

I was thinking, why don't you move in with us?

-We can all live together. -You and Jacob under one roof?

Dad, we already rented a place.

I started on that book, for real this time.

A book? Another book?

You're such a delightfully industrious child.

Yes. About us, about you and the old days.

I received a letter from a long time ago.

What kind of letter?

-A letter from your mother. -How did you get that?

It was sent to me by the grandson of Ietje.

To you? Why to you?

He read my last book and thought I could use it, as a writer.

That's insane. What's in the letter?

It's a letter from your mother, written in 1942.

It was posted in Westerbork. You were 13 at the time, right?

Your mother was worried because she didn't know where you were. I don't get it.

Where were you? I always thought you were in Westerbork as well as a child.

You think I've been telling stories about that?

-I want to read the letter. Give it to me. -I didn't bring it. It's at our new house.

Get in.

Don't touch it.

I'm police sergeant Raaymakers.

Is this the residence of…

Isaac Abraham Israel Silverstein, Herman Isaac Israel Silverstein

and Zewa Rachel Sarah Silverstein? Where's your son?

We're dealing with an emotional tyrant.

A temper terrorist.

Yes.

No. No problem.

That's okay. How are you doing?

Jacob rented us a house in which we could be together.

Okay.

Was it the second or the third?

I was just wondering. I'm not sure it's wise.

Sara is a wreck.

Anyway, how are you?

Really?

-No, that's… I'll think about it. -Hi.

I just need some coffee.

Coffee?

Since when do you drink coffee?

This is a nice house, Mom.

Yes, that's your dad.

I didn't worry about you at all, but I'm so happy to see you again.

You didn't contract malaria, did you?

No, just a touch of West Nile fever.

Hi, Grandpa dear.

What a glass palace. Hello.

Did you sleep well, Dad?

Not a wink.

-Am I to blame? -Blame?

We don't do blame in this family.

-What about that letter? -I have it here.

-Hi, Grandpa. -Here you go.

You're looking smart. Is that for me?

-Shall we? -Yes. Bye.

See you this afternoon.

Has he gone already? Such a pity.

I'm back.

Always those secrets.

One evening at my Dad's and I knew why I had moved so far away.

Why did he think it was dangerous to know anything about him?

Grandpa.

Hitler was inveterately against smoking.

Lenin, too.

They wanted to kill everyone themselves.

Mom ought to have gone with us, for her book.

Your mother and her book.

They were dead, my sweet parents. Vernichtet.

That word in German sounds just as bad as it is.

Mr. Silverstein, did you ever consider taking revenge?

Revenge? No.

Life's too short for that.

I pray decency will live on forever.

I'm really grateful to the Americans.

Really.

Thank you, Mr. Silverstein.

Mo?

Is that you?

This is my grandson Michael.

This is Hans, my son.

Nice to meet you.

Mich.

Mich, what a handsome lad you are.

Did you know your grandpa and I

were in love with the same girls in the old days. Right, Herman?

So you knew my grandpa before the war?

77 years.

I'm sorry to interrupt.

Can I thank you again? It was captivating and extraordinary.

Thank you, bye.

Yes, it was captivating and extraordinary in Auschwitz too, right?

Yes, the good old days.

We only read last week that you'd be speaking here. If I had known…

I recently found some letters in the attic from my grandma Ietje and your mother.

So I heard.

Would you be so kind to forward all correspondence to me from now on?

My apologies, I didn't know--

You thought I was dead.

-Did you think that as well, Mo? -No.

You're indestructible.

Do you remember I wrote to you from New York?

I didn't know you lived in New York, Grandpa.

-Are you crying? -No. An old man's condition.

I've always been a cry-baby.

I even cry during TV commercials. Don't pay any attention.

New York.

Drive on.

Mr. Reijnders?

-Sara? -How nice to see you again.

You're back?

You're as young as ever.

LITTLE WARRIOR

Everything depends on what you'll do right now.

Exciting, isn't it?

Come on.

That Jewish piece of crap.

You thought you'd be safe in The Netherlands.

There's no hope.

And no comfort.

That's odd.

In those photos you look a lot prettier.

Now I have you and I don't want you anymore.

Frankly, you disgust me.

Jesus, Grandpa.

Promise me you'll never tell anyone.

Mom, why didn't you answer? I tried to call you.

-I lost my phone. -Lost, how?

I went rowing. Along the way I fell.

Some idiot cut me off and I lost my phone. It slid into the ditch.

-Who cut you off? -Just some bastard.

What you don't tell never happened. What you don't say doesn't exist.

It was like he knew me.

Did he call you by name?

He tore the necklace off.

"That Jewish piece of crap," he said.

It had a chai, a Hebrew letter meaning "life."

He had a gold tooth and said something about The Netherlands.

What did he say?

That I thought it'd be safer here, or something.

Like he knew I'd just returned.

I fully understand you're upset.

This is standard procedure: Do we need to take an STD test?

No, no.

It was only an assault, no rape.

-I'll have a coke. -Wouldn't you prefer a lager?

-A lager? -Yes.

Wait up.

Hey, sweetie.

Hi, love.

What were you doing on that ladder, Dad?

The gutters were clogged.

That causes the sunroom roof to leak.

I should know. Abject misery.

What are you standing there for? I'm not dying.

I have a broken leg.

-Please go home. -I just got here, Dad.

I get so nervous from all that staring down at me.

-Where is he? -He just sent us packing.

I'm so happy I ran three lights.

-Hi, Grandpa. -What's happening for God's sake?

You just got back and all hell breaks loose.

-Hi, Mom. -Hello, sweetheart.

Dad…

-So we're not going in? -No, he doesn't want that.

Dad's really acting weird.

-He's just scared. -You can go.

I'll watch over him, I'd like that. Really.

Herman, do you prefer to go into quarantine for your leg?

Asshole.

-Tess, get that junk off your face. -Mom, get real.

Don't take it all out on Tess. Come here.

I'll tell you how your mom dressed once, what she wore and didn't wear.

Mich, can you escort Grandma? I'll stay with Mom.

That's okay.

Come, I'll prepare some food and I'll stop by later on.

That's alright. Bye, darling.

What a day.

Unbearable.

Is it true that you were cut off and lost your phone?

-It just fell in the water. -In the water?

Yes. I was rowing.

Coffee?

-I have to tell you something. -Did you know…

Herman went flying off that ladder, right?

-Yes, Dad fell. -Yes, but do you know why?

-No. -Do you know what I found on the roof?

-Well? -An elaborate burglar alarm.

No professional stuff, but a massive lot of equipment. Really bizarre.

And downstairs I found infrared lights. Totally paranoid, Saar.

Dad just wants to protect. There's nothing wrong with that, is there?

Sweetie, he's almost 85. That's ridiculous.

Nothing worked. It was a sort of failed Fort Knox on the roof.

-You're just nagging at Dad. -Nagging?

Yes, nagging. It makes me sick.

Nagging.

They have a macchiato. How The Netherlands have changed.

Alright, punishing silence.

Nagging.

We're not even allowed with him.

That's absurd, right? But when I say something about it, I'm the asshole.

And suddenly it's all about you.

You always want to beat Dad.

Why would I try to win when I know I'm going to lose?

No one in history can compete with your dad.

That's impossible, or as he likes to call it, "unmöglich."

There you are.

We're moving in with Grandma.

Dad is okay with it.

-Really? -Yes.

Off you go.

No, stay.

-Have a good time, dear. -Yes, bye.

I love you, Mom.

Be careful, okay?

That's better.

Saar?

Saar?

I have no internet connection.

-Hey. -Jump on the back.

Right…

There I am, standing at your fucking grave, Herman.

And there you lie.

You sneak out just when it's getting interesting.

What? Don't you recognize me?

It's a new look.

We weren't done yet, were we, Herman?

You know that as well as I do.

I'll destroy them.

Every single one of them.

Just as I destroyed you.

My heart is big enough to hate them all.

Very systematically.

One by one, by one.

Until I have what you took from me.

And more than that, Herman.

And more.

-Where did you learn to kiss like that? -In LA.

-And who taught you? -No one, just myself.

-You taught yourself to kiss like that. -Yes. Chill.

Am I not doing it right? Don't you like it?

Sure I like it.

How do you kiss?

What are you doing in Dad's room?

I'm tidying up a bit.

I can't stand this mess.

-This is Dad's stuff. -I'm just tidying up.

Let me do my thing.

I like being around his stuff.

-Mom has gone completely adrift. -No wonder.

You see it in countries where a dictator is overthrown. An immediate iconoclasm.

-Dad was no dictator. -No, but he was impossible.

She couldn't go anywhere. She always had to stay by his side.

And then he suddenly disappeared to his room.

And if she ever wanted to go somewhere,

he came barging from his room demanding to know what she was up to.

He did the same with us.

-You were always mad at him. -Because we were never allowed anything.

And if we ever had any problems, they were insignificant

-because the war was always worse. -That wasn't his fault, was it?

I know survivors who made a lot less fuss about it than he did.

There's nature and nurture. It was a matter of disposition as well with Dad.

-I don't want you saying that. -Don't be so dramatic.

I'm staying here.

He was my father as well. I want to know what's in that room.

-Hi, Mom. -Dear.

So good of you.

I don't like mausoleums. I'm throwing out a lot of stuff.

I'm making it into a light, cheerful room.

-Maybe a studio. -To do what?

Clay modelling? Sketching?

With a model? I'm in.

-Did you open his desk? -No, I waited for you.

Exciting, the desk. After all this time.

Oh, Herman.

-Were you eating sweets here? -I knew that.

Of course you did. He wasn't allowed sweets.

No.

Imagine we'd known them.

-This is the letter from Westerbork. -What letter is that?

-The letter that made him so upset? -Yes.

A letter from Grandma Zewa to a certain Ietje from Apeldoorn.

-Yes, and? -Dad was never in Westerbork.

-What? -How's that?

Grandma Zewa asks Ietje whether Herman is with her.

-They were in Westerbork, Dad wasn't. -Bizarre. So he made it all up?

-Stop it. -Shall we clean out those drawers?

You see Dad had secrets?

-Did you know, Mom? -I didn't know a thing.

What did he do with this? Who did he…

-Himself? Did he want to-- -Are you mad?

Oh, Herman…

Can one of you take this to the police?

-I'm interrupting. -No, not at all.

-Saar, are you alright? -No, why?

Of course I'm not. I'm just pacing.

Wrong question. Just trying to make conversation, dear.

-Aren't you happy we're here? -No, everything is weird and different.

Dad's gone, Mom appears to be someone else.

You act differently, Mich is away.

Tess puts on make-up like she's working in a nightclub and treats me as the enemy.

I'm not acting differently. I'm looking for the right attitude.

We're different, I'm different.

So much has happened, Jacob. So, so…

-So much bad stuff. -I know.

Oh, dear Saar.

I need to tell you something.

-About Mich. -About Mich? What?

What's up with Mich?

Tell me. What's up with Mich?

-Don't act so weirdly sweet. -Wat on earth is "weirdly sweet"?

-Saar, come on. -Tell me.

-He signed up. -Signed up?

Signed up with what? A record company? A movie?

-Not as a model? -No, with the US Marines, Saar.

-Seriously. -He's gone mad. Forget it.

Has he lost his mind? He must know that's not going to happen.

You're not listening. He's already in the corps.

He signed up. You can't just get out of that.

Nonsense. Signed up for what?

Mich is studying in Santa Monica and in three months he'll be back home.

He'll be at boot camp then. After that he wants a tour in Afghanistan.

-Afghanistan? -Or Iraq, wherever.

Where people like him are needed most. This is happening now, Saar.

Our son wants to be a US Marine.

And you knew about this?

You had so much on your mind.

On my mind?

You're such an incredible prick. How…

And now? What did you tell him?

I told him I find it very difficult to let him go, but it's his choice.

-And I respect that. -Are you mental?

We won't allow it. We won't allow it, that's what you were supposed to say.

Mich is my son, my everything, my life, my--

He e-mailed me the night he arrived in Santa Monica.

Your dad just died, I wanted to…

I should've told you right away. I'm sorry.

-Mom? -Yes?

-Are you going on a trip? -Yes, dear.

-Really? Where to? -To California.

-Visiting Mich, I bet? -Yes.

Please take me with you. It's insane what he's planning.

-What? You knew about Mich? -Yes.

-Dad told me not to say anything. -No.

Who wants to join the army?

Please, take me with you. He'll listen to me.

Darling, you have to go to school. You're seriously behind. See you soon.

-Jesus, Mom. What are you doing here? -I have to talk to you.

-Exploited? In what way? -Exploited, abused.

Because you're young and you think nothing can happen to you.

While in fact you're nothing but cannon fodder.

Cannon fodder? No way. I stand for something real.

And besides, I'll be studying as well.

I don't want to stay a marine, I want to be in command.

It takes a while before you're in command.

Before that you'll have been sent to 15 frigging hotbeds.

What would you have me do? Nothing, like all the other weaklings around us?

Nothing? I just want you to stay alive,

to study, to have friends and do fun stuff.

Do you know what Dad said to me? He thinks it's tremendous of me.

He called me a hero.

-Did he say that? A hero? -Yes, that's what he said.

He had himself declared unfit for military service. He thought it was over-zealous.

-That was a different time. -That again.

-Grandpa said-- -Don't talk to me about Grandpa.

He was younger than you are when he was in Auschwitz.

His parents were killed there. That was real. That wasn't a game.

And you go searching out wars?

You have no business being there.

Why?

Your grandpa wouldn't have wanted this. You realize that, don't you?

He hated war.

-He thought the Marines were kitschy. -I knew Grandpa differently.

-Oh, really? -I know you're being sweet and protective.

But I want to protect others. Please understand that.

Mich…

You may be the one I love most on this entire planet.

Please stop and go home. Get some sleep and fly back.

It's almost like I'm chasing you away.

It's your grandpa and me all over again.

The more I love you…

the further you run.

Mom?

Mom.

Why didn't you answer my messages?

Hey, there you are.

He really wants it, Tess.

So you're letting him go?

What can I do about it? The more I say, the more he wants it.

Please lie on top of me.

-What? -Please lie on top of me.

Like this?

Naked. Take off your pants.

I can do naked.

You're crying.

Do you still think I'm attractive?

You're lovely.

But not attractive.

What are you talking about? You're gorgeous.

You're the most beautiful.

Now will you lie on top of me?

-Alright. -Come.

-Mom? -Tess?

-Mom. -What is it?

-Hey, Tess. -Sweetheart.

Hey cuties, fucking around? Can you do me as well, cutie?

-One wrong move and we shoot. -You want to play with me?

Get up. Bank cards, jewelry, everything. In that corner.

I said quickly, bitch.

Is this everything? I don't believe you.

Bank numbers, credit cards, write down everything. Come on.

-Sit down, sit down. -We're going outside to an ATM.

Name an amount and I'll give it to you, cash.

Shut your mouth, man. You think you can bribe us?

-Name your amount. -Say, "I am your bitch."

Say, "I am your bitch."

Daddy, Daddy.

-What are you doing? Fuck, man. -Daddy.

-Fuck. -Daddy.

-Daddy. -Quick, let's get out of here.

Daddy.

-I'm cold. -We were assaulted.

My husband is dying. We're at the Parklaan.

You have to come immediately.

Damn it.

Jacob, don't leave me. Don't leave me.

Fuck.

No, don't die.

Don't leave me. I love you, Jacob.

Sweetie, I love you. I love you so much.

They tied me up.

Listen.

What did…

-Did they harm you in any way? -Mich.

-Mich was supposed to call. -Can you remember anything?

Oh, God.

Sorry. No, I'm awake. It's alright.

No. How are you, sweetheart?

No, honey, I'm fine. Isn't it too tough for you?

Yes, be careful.

Were you going somewhere?

No, why?

You're wearing a lot of mascara.

I simply forgot to remove it.

Did they harm you?

No. They were looking for money.

-Do you want cocoa? -No.

It's nice.

Something sweet.

Mom?

Will Dad be alright?

Hey.

I went to the moon.

I saw the earth.

I saw us.

How are you two doing?

Everything's alright. We're still here.

We're all alive and well.

Sweetie, are you coming?

Oh, my God.

It's paint.

"Oink" is not a Dutch expression, is it?

It's a pig's grunt.

Does it have anti-Semitic connotations?

-Do you or your family have enemies? -I don't know.

Mom, did you or Dad have enemies?

Were you afraid of anyone?

Why?

Dad could make an enormous fuss.

Not everyone could stand that. Is it such a crazy question?

Aren't you hungry?

Mom, Dad isn't around anymore.

You can tell me if anything was the matter.

Who is that boy?

That's Tarik.

He helped Raaymakers at the time.

-He looks very familiar. -He's a rascal.

-And who's that? -Yo, dude.

That's Anton Raaymakers.

An incredible prick.

And a poor wretch.

A lot of trouble.

-And it was all because of me. -What was?

I thought he was so sad.

He came to our door with his father when he was a boy.

His father wanted to apologize for his father.

The infamous police sergeant Raaymakers.

He had arrested Dad's family during the war.

Dad sent him away, but regretted it ever since.

When we wanted to alter the sunroom,

we received a tender from that kid at the door.

He'd become a contractor and said he really wanted to take the job.

I'd like to turn this into an orangery. Can you imagine?

It sounds a bit pretentious, an orangery,

especially in The Netherlands with its allergy to French terms,

but I'd love it if my great-grandchildren could say,

"Our great-grandfather used to sit in a recliner in the orangery."

"Moonlight Sonata," isn't it?

But don't forget the job.

Just checking if it still works, Herman.

-We can't pay out. -You can't?

It's really unpleasant, but I checked this Mr. Raaymakers

and I'm afraid he's not registered anywhere.

We can pay out a small sum, but that won't do you much good considering the damage.

Between you and me, I'd consider suing him.

Sue him?

Defense, boys.

Defense, boys.

-That's right. -Do it, Mo.

-Mo, more to the left. -Go play.

-Herman. -Yes. Herman.

-So this is where you recreate. -Tarik enjoys it here.

That means I'm having a good time as well.

Hi, Mr. Silverstein.

Am I out of my mind?

Tarik and I will drop by and we'll fix that problem.

-How are you next week? -There won't be a next week.

-I'm suing you. -Suing me, Herman? Now what?

Yes, suing you in hopes of reclaiming at least some of my money.

Let me send someone.

Why did you even take the job?

I like it at your place.

That's brutal.

-Brutal? -Yes, brutal.

You think that's brutal, Herman?

With my dad everything was about guilt and atonement.

His life was ruined by the bad choices of his father.

The wretch.

Honestly, Herman, now I'm getting to know you a bit better,

I'm starting to understand my grandpa's bad choices.

Dad started a lawsuit.

FORECLOSURE

Sir?

-I have this coat. -Not that coat.

-Of course he won. -Why not?

Not that coat.

I read somewhere Raaymakers went bankrupt.

Jesus, Mom.

Look at you. I recognize you from the photographs on the grand piano.

With the cute daughter, right?

How old is she now? 14, 15?

Do tell Daddy. How old is she?

Fuck.

Jesus.

-Hey, sweetie. -Hi, Mom.

Everything alright?

-Sleep well. -You, too.

Why don't you call the police?

I have a funny feeling about Tess.

-About Tess? -Yes. I don't know.

Hi, darling.

Hey, Smurfette.

Say something to Dad.

-How did you like it? -Magnificent.

-It was almost… almost medieval. -Sweet Mama.

-I'll be right back, okay? -Yes.

So Dad didn't have a gallstone procedure?

He was shot?

And what about Mom?

What happened?

It's all my fault.

-Promise me you'll keep quiet. -I promise.

-Swear it. -I'm a marine, okay?

So please, believe me.

I didn't tell anybody.

It's too horrible.

Can I join you?

-Not right now. We're talking. -Yes, I know.

Why didn't you say anything?

-Mich, sweetie, you were in training. -Jesus, Mom.

Tess, please. Whatever happened, it's not your fault.

Hey.

Smile.

Smile.

If you ever talk about this,

I'll kill your grandma with a piece of barbed wire.

Or I'll set your house on fire while you're sleeping.

But only after I rape your mother again.

This time I'll fuck her in the ass.

She likes that.

Your brother will cry like a baby when he finds out your dad is dead.

He wants to destroy us.

You.

Dad, Grandma, me.

Tess?

Who is this guy?

-Hi, sweetie. -I have a week of family leave.

I want to see Dad.

Mich, you just finished your basic training. Take it easy.

-Hey. -Hi, darling.

How was your flight?

We're here.

-Hey, Dad. -My darling Tess.

Hi, sweetie.

Hey, Dad.

Jesus, man.

Just no cigars.

I'm going to see Grandma.

Mich has changed.

Wasn't that what you wanted?

Sorry.

That was mean.

Mich.

Please say something.

You didn't say a thing on the flight.

Talk to me.

Did that man rape you, or not?

No.

It was no rape.

It was horrible and I was terrified,

but it wasn't rape. Is that why you're angry with me?

You're so fucking helpless.

I can't stand it anymore.

-Do you know what that is? -What?

This is where Grandpa sat.

Please.

Mr. Raaymakers, please let us wait for our son here.

-He'll be home next week. -You have 4.5 minutes to pack.

Zewa, we're packing.

-Please. -Come with me.

Calm down. We'll start packing.

Easy, my love.

-Honey, easy. Breathe deeply. -Keep your wife in check.

-Money is no object. -Jew, you don't own anything anymore.

Oh, no. No.

Mommy.

-What are you two doing here? -What are you doing here?

I couldn't do it.

-We're upstairs, Jacob. -I'm coming.

Sleep well, honey.

Shall I answer it?

You need to drink more tea, and to eat a little.

Come on in.

Good morning.

Good morning. Would you like a cup of tea?

I think you held something back for me. You do have an enemy.

His name will sound familiar to you: Anton Raaymakers.

He's the one we found dead, not too far from here.

The man you sued in court and who was declared bankrupt after.

In his residence we found a large number of your belongings.

What's more, the entire house was full of photographs.

Of our family?

Yes.

Odd, isn't it?

I'll show you out.

Well…

My other daughter.

-Aunt Juud, we're getting our stuff back. -That's great.

I brought cake for the departing soldier.

-You look super cool, Aunt Juud. -Thank you.

Can I have some cake?

Wouldn't you like to know.

-Is it the Bal or is there a new Bal? -It's the old Bal.

-Does he bounce again? -Yes, thank you, very subtle.

Play has resumed, and that's all I'll say about it.

-What kind of cake is it? -Cheesecake.

Very nice.

Mich.

My darling boy.

"Dear Mo." No, "Esteemed Mo."

"Noble Mo. First of all, I hope you're all safe.

It all started early October.

Four policemen forced their way into our home.

My father yelled that they shouldn't think

they could carry on like that against us in our own home.

My mother wanted to defend him.

When they threatened to hit her, I intervened.

One of the men tried to disarm me, but I was too quick for him.

One by one I took those bastards out, Mo.

It was a firefight unlike any you've ever seen.

My mother cried because she was so happy that I had freed them.

You can imagine.

I write this letter from New York. It's incredibly nice here.

We found a magnificent house

and Father has found employment as an opera singer at the New York Opera."

You see?

The Jew always returns to its nest.

"I'll write to you soon.

As ever, your brother in arms, Herman."

You won't be needing that anymore.

Subtitle translation by: Martijn Bijwaard