All language subtitles for Address.Unknown.1944.BDRemux.1080p_track5_eng

(dramatic music)

(gentle music)

(men chuckling)

- Prost.
- Prost.

(gentle music)

- [Martin] And here's to San Francisco.

Thanks for all it's done for us.

- [Max] San Francisco.

- You know, I wish we weren't going.

Why is it that a trip
is always so exciting

until the night before you go,

and then you get almost
sick with wanting to stay?

- It's the warmth you're
leaving behind, Martin.

The friends you never really believe

you'll find anything
like them anywhere else.

I feel the sickness too and I'm not going.

- I wish you were.

- Now, Martin, didn't we
agree that I would stay

and run the gallery and you would do

the buying and showing
- Yeah, yeah, yeah.

- A bit more wine you think, huh?

- A bit more than a bit.
(men chuckling)

- Well, you won't find better wine

than this in Germany, Martin.

(door creaking)

- [Children] Mama, we're hungry.

- [Child] Mama, we're hungry.

- [Martin] These young
men are hungry, Mama.

- That's good.

Then they'll enjoy their dinner.

- [Child] When do we eat, Mama?

- [Child] When do we eat, Ma?

- When Heinrich comes home.

- [Children] When will he come home?

- Soon, now run along and wash your hands.

- Come, come, run along now.

I don't know what they're
going to do in Germany.

They are so American.

- Well, so are you.

- Oh, that's not what I mean.

The way they speak German.

(speaking in foreign language)

(men chuckling)

It's terrible, isn't it?

- Well, it won't be so bad.

After all, the Germany
you're taking them back to

it's not the Germany
you and I were born in.

The old Junker spirit,
the Prussian arrogance,

and militarism are gone.

It's like the United States now.

- Only no baseball.

- That's bad no baseball.

(men chuckling)

I wish I were sure it was right
for Griselle to go with you.

This actress business.

- Well, I'm leaving my son.

It's a fair exchange my
boy, a son for a daughter.

- You have Elsa you don't understand.

Griselle takes the place of her mother.

- Max, Martin.

I know I'm just spoiling you,

but would it hurt your dinner

if I brought you out some Kensercreme?

- Hurt it, but what if
it murders our dinner?

Kensercreme, woman at once!

- Surprise I have a
plate right in my hand.

- Darling, hurry up you
don't want us to starve

to death, do you?
- Heavens forbid.

Kensercreme.

- To Elsa.
- To Elsa.

- Ah.

I feel ashamed of myself when I think

of what I'm gonna miss Elsa most for.

- Why Max you never told me that before.

- Kenser braten.

Schnitzel.

Konigsberger klopse.

Sauer braten, but Sauer braten--

- You are breaking my heart.

Almost you make me feel that

it's my duty to leave Elsa here.

- I'm leaving the recipes

for everything behind with Griselle.

Wait till you taste her sauer braten.

- You mean Griselle
she's not going with you?

- Max, I'm afraid not.

- But why the plans are all made?

- [Martin] Why only a moment ago

you didn't want her to leave you.

- I don't understand what's happened?

(chuckling gently)

- Well, it was Heinrich's secret.

I happen to know that
today my son was planning

to ask her a certain question.

- Is it good?
- Yeah.

- You're sure?
- Ja!

- I have it on the best
possible authority, my friend.

(chuckling gently)

- This is wonderful.

- Now, it isn't that we wanted

to keep a secret from you, Max.

- Oh, I knew, of course I knew.

Do you think I'm blind?

Well, I've seen it coming for months,

a thousand little signs.

Little Griselle married.

- Before long we'll be grandfathers.

I don't mind it so much for myself,

but I don't know how I feel about

being married to a grandmother.

- Shh, shh, shh.

- Oh.

- Hello, everybody.

- Hello.
- Hello.

- Are we late?

- [Elsa] No you're just on time.

- Good.

We thought we were going to be late.

Didn't we Heinrich?

- We sure did.

- Aren't you being festive?

- Yes, aren't we?

Come on join us.

- Thank you.
- Thank you.

- Maybe we'll want to drink
a toast to something, hmm?

- Hmm-mm.
- Maybe.

- Do you want to tell them?

- No, you'd better do it.

- Well.

We're not getting married.

(dramatic music)

- But, Griselle.

- Now before you get all
unhappy about it let me explain.

Heinrich and I talked the
thing over thoroughly.

Didn't we, Heinrich?

- Yes, thoroughly.

- We decided there was
no sense in getting all

emotional and upset
about something that...

I can't help it if I wanna be an actress

if I don't want to change all the things

I've hoped and planned for so long.

Can I?

Can I?

- No.

No, dear, of course not.

(dramatic music)

- It'd be perfectly absurd
for me to try to be a

a wife and an actress at the same time.

It wouldn't be fair to either of us.

So, I'm going ahead with
my plans for a year.

When I come back from
Germany, why we'll be married.

- Yes, of course, darling.

- Don't you understand?

- Of course, we do.

There aren't many children
who could be that sensible.

- Anyway, it'll be some time
until I am a grandmother.

- (chuckling) Now that's something.

(footsteps approaching)
- Shh, shh, shh.

(children yelling)

Shh, shh, shh go away.

- And you're not angry with me?

- Of course, I'm not.

How could I be angry with you?

- I think it's wise.

In a year you will be
back as a great actress.

- You're a dear.

(gentle music)

Heinrich.

- My darling.

It'll be alright.

- [Child] Can we eat now Mama?

- Yes, of course sit down.

(men chuckling)

- Prost.

(dramatic music)

(bell ringing)

(lively music)

(children yelling)

- [Child] Who is that from, Carl?

- It's from Uncle Max!

(children's voices overlapping)

Hey, father it's from Uncle Max!

- Uncle Max why bring it in then.

(dramatic music)

(lively music)

- It's a letter from
Uncle Max from America!!

(man chuckling)
- From America.

- Papa, how would you say it in German?

It's a letter from Uncle Max.

(speaking in foreign language)

- That's right.

That's fine.

- Martin, Martin.

- The only question in my mind

is whether it will be quite big enough.

- Nein, Martin, nein.

With such a bed you must take care of it,

or have someone grow to fit it.

- Yes, five more boys and I'll
fit it just nice and snug.

Well, maybe next time it'll be a daughter.

- Daughter?

A girl?

- Don't worry it will be a boy.

Once Elsa forms a habit you know

it is very hard to break her.

- Martin, Martin, shame.

(speaking in foreign language)

- Oh, it's a letter from Uncle Max.

- Oh, what a student, what a student.

San Francisco.

Nice to see Max's handwriting again.

- Well, well?

- He says San Francisco is an empty place

without you and Elsa.

Even the California sunshine isn't as warm

as the sunshine of our friendship.

- Oh

(thunder roaring)

- Looks like a storm's coming up.

Oh, yeah.

That fellow is going to get wet.

- Why, it's Baron von Friesche.

- What, are you sure?

- Of course, I'm sure.

He's a very important man.

- It's raining harder.

- He'll get wet we must ask him in.

Herr Baron.

Herr Baron come in.

Come in, sir, come in out of the rain.

(thunder roaring)

Hurry up, the door is unlocked.

- Taking it all in all, Baron
von Friesche seems to be

one of the most gracious and
charming men I've ever met.

His family is among the
wealthiest and oldest in Germany.

And yet when the storm forced

him to take refuge in our house,

you would have thought it was
a castle as big as his own.

The confusion of moving
didn't bother him a bit.

You might have thought the
house was arranged for a party,

and he was the first to arrive.

It is the sort of charm and courtesy

that one finds only in the old world.

- Alright, but what about Griselle?

- Let's see.

Oh, he says she's gone to Vienna.

- Yes and what else?

- That's all.

I'm sorry she left the family.

- Well, there's nothing to worry about.

Someday she'll make us all proud of her.

- Sometimes she worries me.

She's so young and
strong-minded and daring.

- She'll be alright.

What about the rest of the family?

- We'll see.

(upbeat music)

- You go and talk to her.

- Why pick on me?

- 'Cause I'm the boss.

- [Heinrich] How do you do, Mrs. Delaney?

- How do you do.

This is an interesting thing.

I don't seem to recognize
the brushwork though.

Whose is it?

- It's an unknown artist.

- [Mrs. Delaney] Oh, a new man?

- Yes.

My father just sent it from Germany.

What do you think of it?

- I think, it says something.

Don't you?

- Quite, quite.

I seem to feel a certain
spiritual facility in it.

Don't you?
- Why yes.

- Some artists, you know,
paint with their hand.

Others paint with their head.

- What do you think this one painted with?

- I wouldn't care to say.

- I'll buy it what's the price?

I'll give you a thousand cash.

- No, Mrs. Delaney.
- You've promised

it to someone else?

- No, not that.
- 1500 then.

I can tell a good painting when I see it.

- I'm sorry, Mrs. Delaney,
but that is not for sale.

- [Mrs. Delaney] I'll
meet any reasonable price.

Somebody's offered you 2,000 I suppose?

. Oh no.
- More 25007

- Mrs. Delaney
- Look here 3,000.

Wait a minute I know you're an honest man.

Has anyone offered you more than 3,0007

- No.

- Alright, 3,000 it is then.

I'm a very good client
of yours, Mr. Eisenstein.

It's only right that you let
me make this little discovery.

Send it to my house at once.

I'll give the messenger the check.

- I wouldn't give that
outrage to my worst enemy.

- But I'm sure father
sent it only for a joke.

- Put it in the cellar, Heinrich.

Maybe if she doesn't see it
the next time she comes in,

she'll forget about it.
- Alright.

- I was going to write your
father a letter today anyhow.

I think I'll start off with a few things

he won't forget in a hurry.

(dramatic music)

- Max and I used to come here years ago.

- Yes.

(men whispering)

- It's changed.
- Has it?

Well, I've been living
in Munich for 25 years,

and I've never been here before.

- I don't see a waiter.

- This is probably an off hour.

- Well, anyway listen.

Mrs. Delaney is making my life miserable

trying to buy the ugly Venus you sent me.

You know I sent him a very bad painting,

a nightmare in oil.

A very wealthy connoisseur is trying

to bully him into take $3,000 for it.

Max is fighting to the last ditch.

- Good old honest Max.

- Yes.

Personally, he says.

I think you and I are very lucky

that we have such a sound
following for the gallery.

That's admonishing me to be
more careful in the future.

Well, that's all for that, and oh.

Who is this Adolph Hitler who seems

to be rising to power in Germany?

I do not like what I read of it.

- Good afternoon Herr Schultz.
(tense music)

- Oh, Herr Baron.

Good afternoon.

Would you come sit with us?

This is my friend Professor Schmidt.

Baron von Friesche.

- [Professor] Baron.

- May I take your hat?

- Thank you.

- So he doesn't like what he reads, hmm?

- Oh, the letter.

It's my partner Max Eisenstein
in the United States.

- Does he know the
conditions he doesn't like?

- Oh, no, no.

It's just what he reads
in the American papers.

- I find that hard to understand.

I myself would hesitate
to form conclusions

without first-hand evidence.

You must set him right.

I suppose it isn't easy for a foreigner

to understand the agonies
our people have suffered

since the Treaty of Versailles.

What years of less and less bread,

of leaner bodies, of the end of hope.

- Oh, thank you.

- The quicksand of despair held us.

Then just before we died,

a man came and pulled us out.

You are a native of
Munich, Herr Professor?

- Well, uh.

- You have witnessed this deliverance?

- If it is a deliverance.

- You know there is a
surge my friend, a surge.

Our whole despair has been thrown aside

like a forgotten coat.

No longer do we wrap ourselves in shame.

What can be wrong about a
man who affects people so?

- When people are hungry, they do not care

what kind of a man it
is who gives them bread.

- We of Germany have found our destiny.

The future sweeps towards
us in an overwhelming wave.

- I wish we could be sure that
the wave would not engulf us,

sweep us on to destruction.

- We must go with it, Herr Schultz.

The days of hopelessness
and stagnation are over.

Our movement needs the sympathy

and help of all of right-thinking men,

men of substance, Herr Schultz.

Leaders who can command
respect in the Fatherland

they are the men who will
rise with the new Germany.

The others...

(soldiers singing joyously)

Come here a moment.

That's what I mean.

Chins up.

Heads high.

Strength through joy.

You see, Herr Schultz?

(soldiers singing joyously)

- Martin.

Aren't they pretty.

Even in California we
never had better flowers.

- Beautiful, darling.

I have wonderful news.

We've been invited to dinner.

The Baron von Fleischer.

- When?
- Tonight.

- Oh, isn't that a shame.

Just when grandma and
Herman and Otto are coming.

- Oh.

- Well, maybe he'll ask us again.

- Well, the Baron is a very important man.

- Why indeed he is,

and it's a great honor his invitation.

But I've asked mama and
the boys a week ago.

It's too bad, Martin, but
there's nothing we can do.

Oh, my goodness they're
probably on their way now.

You'd better hurry and change.

- We'll dine at the Baron's.

(dramatic music)

- But?

- I tell you, Max, I think in many ways

Hitler is good for Germany.

The man is like an electric shock,

strong as only a great
orator and a zealot can be.

- [Martin] It is true that his

Brownshirt troops are of the rabble.

They pillage and have
started the bad Jew-baiting.

But these may be minor things,

the little surface scum when
the big movement boils up.

The old despair has been thrown
aside like a forgotten coat.

A leader is found.

Yet sometimes cautiously to
myself I ask a leader to where?

Publicly it is natural
I expressed no doubt.

I am now an official

and a worker in the new regime.

I exhort very loud indeed.

All of us officials who
cherish those things

are quick to join the national socialists.

But this is not only expedience.

There is something more.

The feeling that we of Germany
have found our destiny.

- And that the future sweeps toward us

in an overwhelming wave.

We must move with it.

Of course, there are wrongs being done.

The storm troopers are having
their moment of victory,

and there are bloody heads
and sad hearts to show for it.

But these things pass.

If the end in view is right,

they pass and are forgotten.

History writes a clean new page,

a clean new page.

- Yes, I've heard of that page,

and how they deal with people

who will not join that overwhelming wave:

floggings, and quarts of castor
oil through clenched teeth,

the people who disappear.

(suspenseful music)

I wish Griselle were back here.

(dramatic music)

- Hello, Franz, anybody home?

Uncle Martin around?

- Yes, in the study, Miss Griselle.

- Thank you.

Uncle Martin.

(suspenseful music)

(gasps gently)

I was looking for Uncle Martin.

- [Baron] Martin Schulz?

- Yes.

- He just stepped out for a moment.

I am a friend of your
uncle's Baron von Fleischer.

- How do you do?

I'm Griselle Stone.

The actress.

- Oh, yes.

- My Griselle.

Why didn't you let us know?

- I didn't know myself until tonight.

I've taken a part in Berlin.

- Oh, wonderful, that's fine.

You've met the Herr Baron haven't you?

- We introduced ourselves.

(Martin chuckling gently)

- You know, she's determined
to become a very great actress.

- I'm sure she will be.

- Thank you.

Well, you're probably talking
about something important.

Where is Aunt Elsa?
- Upstairs.

But you'd better call out as you go up,

or she will faint with surprise.

(people chuckling)
- Alright, I will.

Aunt Elsa.

- A very charming girl.

- She's studying in Vienna, you know.

(chuckling softly)

I never saw a woman yet
who didn't leave things

strewn all over the house.

- GE?

Am I mistaken?

I understood your niece
to say her name was Stone.

Griselle Stone.

- Oh, oh, yes.

Oh, that's her stage name.

Her real name is Eisenstein.

(purse thuds)
(ominous music)

- Eisenstein?

- Well, she's not my
real my niece, you know.

She's the daughter of my
partner in San Francisco.

- Jewish?

- Why yes, but.

- Oh, your partner.

The man who's letter you were reading

that day in the.
(speaking in foreign language)

- Yes.

- I'm sure I don't need
to tell you how important

this question is to us in Germany.

- But the daughter of a very old friend?

- I must be going.

You are going to have
to choose, Herr Schulz.

You can't sit on two stools at once

at least not here in Germany.

- I understand.

(Elsa chuckling distantly)

- [Elsa] Griselle, Griselle.

(dramatic music)

- [Martin] Dear Max:

We must for the present
discontinue writing to each other.

You will understand, I know,
that it is impossible for me

to be in correspondence
with a person of your race

even if it were not that I have

an official position to maintain.

(door creaking)

- [Heinrich] A letter from father?

- Yes, yes.

- It isn't bad news is it?

- No.

- We rise in our might.

We go singing through our valleys

with strong muscles tingling,

tingling for a new work,

and from the mountains ring
the voices of Votan and Thor

the old strong gods of the German race.

What in the world is he talking about?

- I don't know.

- May I look at that?

We must for the present
discontinue writing each other.

You understand (mumbling)

Correspond with a person of your race.

He must be insane.

- No, no there's a new
censorship in Germany, Heinrich.

You must remember that.

I'm certain your father was writing this

for the censor not for me.

I have written a few
things in my own letters

that might cause him embarrassment.

It's no more than right that
he should want the officials

to think that he doesn't agree.

But there's still a way
that we can exchange letters

without their having to
go through the censor.

(dramatic music)

(man speaking in foreign language)

(suspenseful music)

- Say boy.

You.

Look, I don't want to upset the new order,

but how about letting
me in there now, huh?

Don't I get a little time
off for good behavior?

- It is impossible to see Herr Schulz

without an appointment.

- Yeah, I know, but this
is extremely important.

- I am sorry.

If you care to tell me your business--

- I can't do that it's
a very personal matter.

Wait.

Does it ever occurred
to you that Herr Schulz

might get pretty sore
if you don't let me in?

Now you go in and tell
him there's a man out here

from San Francisco,

and I'll bet you a steel
engraving of Adolph Hitler,

suitably framed, that he'll see me.

- You may go in.

- You see, what'd I tell you?

- [Martin] You wish to see me.

- Yes, I'm a friend of Max Eisenstein's.

We're neighbors back home.

I'm--
-Yes?

- You are Martin Schulz?

- I am.

- You are a partner of
Max's in San Francisco?

- I was associated with him at one time.

- He asked me to give you this in person.

- Thank you.

- Okay, Kraut.

(tense music)

(door creaking)

- [Max] Martin, my old friend.

I'm sending this by a neighbor

who plans to visit Munich shortly.

I cannot believe what I read
in the last letter you sent me.

I'm sure you wrote as you did
only from fear of the censor.

I do not write now because I doubt you.

I know that you have not changed.

That you hate injustice and
violence as much as I do.

But there is so much madness in the world

these days that I need
a word of reassurance.

You must give me that word, Martin.

I do not ask for a long letter, Martin.

Nothing that will embarrass you

and the office of censorship.

Just one word will do.

The word: Yes.

(ominous music)

- [Martin] The answer is: No.

(suspenseful music)

- I can't believe he's my father.

- What are you going to do?
- I'm going to cable Griselle

to get out of Germany now.

- Wait.

A letter will do as well.

- With a maniac like that
loose in the country,

I don't want her to stay
there another minute!

- This is an important day
in Griselle's life Heinrich.

She's dreamed of it for a long time.

- Yes, I suppose she'll
be nervous enough tonight

without any cables from me.

- We don't want to do anything to upset

the leading lady, you know.

We will write to her.

(gentle music)

- [Director] One moment, ladies.

I'm sure I don't need to remind you.

Since we are opening tonight
if we don't get it right now,

we'll never have another chance.

Please, ladies.

Hurry up, girls.

Let's try it again.

Ready, Miss Stone?

- Ready, Herr Director.

- Alright, start again.

- Herr Director.

- Wait.
- Thank you.

By order of the Department of Censorship,

the following lines should
be deleted from this play.

(censor officer mumbling)

Oh, yeah.

Blessed are the meek for
they shall inherit the earth.

(censor officer mumbling)

Oh, yeah.

Blessed are the peacemakers.

For they shall be called
the children of God.

Blessed are they which are persecuted

for righteousness sake.

For theirs is the kingdom of Heaven.

So.
- But look here.

If you cut these passages
out, it destroys the meaning.

- I'm sure you will be able
to solve that difficulty.

You artists.

- What's wrong with the lines?

- [Censor Officer] They
are not acceptable!

- They aren't even the author's.

- I'm aware of that.

There is no need to concern
yourself, Herr Director

with anything except
to see that these lines

are not spoken from this stage again.

Those are your government's orders.

Disobedience is treason.

- Can that little man do this?

- Yes, I'm afraid he can.

(gentle music)

(choir singing softly)

- Blessed are the poor in spirit.

For theirs is the kingdom of Heaven.

♪ For theirs is the kingdom of Heaven ♪

- Blessed are they that mourn.

For they shall be comforted.

♪ For they shall be comforted ♪

- Blessed are the meek.

For they shall inherit the earth.

♪ For they shall inherit the earth ♪

- Stop!

- Blessed are they
- Stop!

Which do hunger and thirst
for after righteousness.

For they shall be filled.

- Stop I say.
♪ For they ♪

♪ Shall be filled ♪

- Stop!

- Blessed are the merciful.

For they shall obtain mercy.

- I demand that this performance cease!

Stop I say!

(people chatting)

Herr Director.

- The director had
nothing to do with this.

I am the one who restored those lines.

- Oh, you are?

- And, please forgive this interruption.

Today at rehearsal this man came here

and ordered us to delete from our play

the lines which I have just spoken.

I disobeyed him because I believe
he exceeded his authority.

I do not believe that
your government desires

to censor the word of God.

I do not believe that your government

or any government wants to censor goodness

and gentleness and truth.

- Fraulein.

What is your name?

- Griselle.
- You will do well

to remain where are, Herr Director.

Well, Fraulein or is it a secret?

- You know my name.

Griselle Stone.

- No, Fraulein.

I mean, your real name,

the name you have kept secret.

- My real name is Eisenstein.

(crowd gasping)

- I see.

Eisenstein.

- I changed it because it was not

a good name for the theater.

It was too long.

It didn't look well in lights.

- Juden.
(crowd yelling)

- Yes, Juden.

(crowd yelling)

- Juden.
- It is a word you hear

a great deal in your
country lately, isn't it?

Juden.
(crowd yelling)

The letter J painted on a door.

As if by calling a man a Jew,

you robbed him of his humanity.

As if you took away our hands and eyes.

Our power to love and hate
with just that one word.

- Juden!

- [Man] Get her out of here!

(crowd yelling)

- No, I'm not.

- [Man] Don't let her get away!

- I'm not afraid of them.

- [Man] Don't let her escape, get her!

- No, no, let me go!

I won't run away.

I'm not afraid.

Let me go!

Cowards all of them!

I'm not afraid!

Please, let me stay!

They're cowards!

I won't run away!

No!

Let me in open this door!

Open this door!

(men muttering angrily)

(suspenseful music)

(dramatic music)

- [Max Voiceover] For the sake
of our friendship, Martin,

and for the sake of the love your son

bears Griselle you must help her.

I know that wherever she may be

if she's still alive and free,

she will try to get to your house.

I must hope that God will let her succeed.

Heinrich and I commend her
to your care, old friend.

Our prayers are with you both.

(suspenseful music)

(dramatic music)

(loud knocking on door)

- Griselle.

(soldiers speaking in foreign language)

Go away.

You will destroy us all, Griselle.

- Alright.

(suspenseful music)

- [Soldier] Halt.

Halt.

(gun firing)
(Griselle screaming)

(suspenseful music)

- Griselle!

(postman whistling)

- Let this be a lesson
to you, Mr. Eisenstein.

Never try to hide a
masterpiece from a connoisseur.

You like my picture?

- It sure don't look much like you.

A letter for you, Mr.
Eisenstein, from Germany.

Did you hear what I
just says to that dame?

She says to me, "Did I like her picture?"

And I says, "It sure
don't look much like you."

And it sure didn't!

(dramatic music)

- Dear Max, Heil Hitler.

I regret I have bad news for you.

Your daughter is dead.

(suspenseful music)

(somber music)

- Dear Max, Heil Hitler.

I regret I have bad news for you.

Your daughter is dead.

(somber music)

(Max sobbing gently)

- Adolph Martin Schulz.

I baptize thee in the name of the Father,

and of the Son,

and of the Holy Ghost, amen.

Protect Dear Lord, the
life of this little child

and keep him ever as
thy own for Jesus' sake.

The blessing of Almighty God, the Father,

the Son and the Holy Ghost
be with you all, amen.

(people chatting)

(suspenseful music)

- Looking at you, Elsa,
you would hardly know

this is a Christening.

How long is this to go on?

Nothing is going to spoil the day for him.

Look at the little chap.

He has a fine new name.

Well, nothing in this world
that I could have done

would have helped Griselle.

If I had brought her into this house

it would have meant
perhaps that all of us--

- Take your hand off me, Martin.

- I hope I'm not intruding.

- [Martin] Oh, no, no not at all.

Come in.

- A cablegram just came for you.

I thought it might be important.

- Oh, thank you.

Pardon me.

- A handsome a young man
as I congratulate you both.

Perhaps I should say the three of you?

- Thank you.
- Thank you.

- You sound tired.

Five fine boys here and one in America,

you have done more than your duty.

You must rest a while.

- I think when the baby
is old enough to travel,

I may go away.

Perhaps to Switzerland.

- That should be very nice.

(suspenseful music)

Not bad news I hope.

- No.

Not at all.

A message of congratulations
to little Adolph.

Shall we go into the other room?

I mustn't forget I am the
host and the father, you know.

(tense music)

(bell ringing)

(soft knocking on door)

Come in.

- [Franz] The mail, sir.

- Put it down here.

Thank you.

(footsteps descending)

(door creaking)

(tense music)

(dramatic music)

(tense music)

(bell ringing)

(footsteps approaching)

Thank you.

(suspenseful music)

(gentle music)

(tense music)

(bell ringing)

- Good afternoon, Herr Schulz.

- Have you got the mail sir?

- There was nothing.

Nothing important.

Heinrich, my son, I'm writing to you

because there is no one
else who can help me.

That crazy cable.

These letters in code.

Another one has just come.

Now even the servants are beginning

to look at me in a strange way.

Only if you lived in
Germany could you understand

what could happen to me unless they stop.

As you are my son, Heinrich,

you must see that there are no more.

You must go to any
lengths as you are my son.

(gentle music)

(dramatic music)

(bell ringing)

(footsteps approaching)

(door creaking)

- [Franz] Good afternoon, Herr Baron.

- [Baron] How are you Franz?

(door creaking)

- Is Herr Schulz at home?

- [Franz] Yes Herr Baron in the study.

Won't you come right in?

(footsteps approaching)

Herr Baron von Friesche, sir.

- Why, Herr Baron.

What a delightful surprise.

I thought you were in Berlin.

- I got back this afternoon.

- Oh.

- I haven't been home yet.

- Why you stopped to see me first?

- [Baron] Yes.

- Well, sit down.

Won't you have a drink?

- Thank you, I'll only stay a minute.

- I have some of your favorite Schnapps.

Did you have a pleasant journey?

- Not too bad.

I ran into a friend of yours.

- Oh?

Who was it?

- Oh, he's an artist, I believe.

By the way that was your line wasn't it

before you came to Germany,
paintings and so forth?

- Yes.

- And have you sent back
a great many Picassos

and Cézannes and things
since you have been here?

- A few.

- Thank you.

Prost.
- Prost.

- You know, Martin.

It's illegal in Germany to send

or receive letters written in code.

- Yes, I understand that.

By the way that friend of mine

you said you met in Berlin.

- Oh, yes.

A chap named Otto Burkholtz.

- I know no one by that name.

- Really?

Are you sure?

- Of course.

Of course, I'm sure.

- Martin.

You wondered why I stopped in to see you

before I went to my own house.

I thought perhaps you might
have something to tell me.

- Something to tell you?

I don't understand.

- There's nothing you
want to talk to me about?

- No, nothing.

- Well, I suppose I should be getting on.

I want a bath and a rest before dinner.

(bell ringing)

Thanks for the drink.

You know, I like this so much better

than that imported stuff.

But I don't think it is only
a matter of patriotism either.

Just that with liquor
that has crossed the ocean

there's always something, a
taste of something foreign.

(soft knocking on door)

-Yes?

- The mail, sir.

(suspenseful music)

- [Baron] Franz, will you
get my hat and coat please.

- Yes, Herr Baron.

- That's what I was talking about.

- Why did you interrupt us?

Why did you bring that letter in there?

- I thought you would want it, sir.

It was from America.

(dramatic music)

- [Martin Voiceover] Max,
do you know what you do?

I shall have to try to
smuggle this letter out.

I write an appeal from a
despair you cannot imagine.

This crazy cable.

These letters you have sent.

I am called into account for them.

They demand I give them the code.

The code!

Already the results of
your madness are terrible.

I am bluntly told I must resign my office.

In the name of Heaven, Max,

do you see what that means?

Do you know what it is to be
taken to a concentration camp?

Would you stand me against
a wall and level a gun?

I beg of you, stop.

(dramatic music)

- [Elsa] Have we got everything?

(people chatting distantly)

- [Martin] So you are off, huh?

- Yes.

- Elsa.

I know why you are going away.

I know things have changed between us.

Will you do something for me?

- What?
- When you get across

the border into Switzerland,
will you mail this letter?

- Why are you writing to Max?

- It is very important.

- What have you to say to him?

You can send it by the post.

- Elsa.

I cannot send it by the post.

I am being watched.

Those letters from Max are destroying me.

- Martin.

If you need me, if I can help you,

perhaps I should stay with you?

- No, you must go.

This letter must go here.

- Auf wiedersehen, Martin.

- Goodbye, Elsa.

(dramatic music)

(bell ringing)

(dramatic music)

(soft knocking on door)

(soft knocking on door)

Why Herr Baron.

Good evening, come in.

Come in.

- I want to talk to you.

- Why of course.

- Close the door.

- Why, no one will hear us.

I've dismissed the servants.

- [Baron] I warn you, Herr Schulz,

if that is your name.

I told you it was a crime in Germany

to send or receive letters in code.

Perhaps I should have
added that it is treason

to try to smuggle such
letters out of the country.

- What do you mean?

- Last night your wife was
stopped at the Swiss border.

She had a letter addressed
to San Francisco,

Which she destroyed
before we could read it.

I thought perhaps you might
care to tell me the contents.

- That was for Max.

I begged him not to write to me anymore.

That letter proved I'm innocent

if you had only read it.

But surely Elsa must have told you.

You questioned her didn't you?

- We allowed her to go
on into Switzerland.

She's a simple, rather
stupid woman after all,

harmless enough, I dare say, without you.

- But I tell you the whole
thing was a plot to destroy me.

There was no code really.

That's all it ever was you see.

- You received a cablegram
the day of the Christening.

You said it was a
message of congratulation

to little Adolph.

That was a lie.

If it was a plot, why didn't you tell us?

- I thought you wouldn't understand.

(chuckles cynically)

- You have gone to a great deal
of trouble with your story.

But I should call it rather
ingenious than convincing.

Herr Schulz.

I give you a last chance
to name your accomplices.

- But Herr Baron I...

There were no accomplices.

I am innocent.

If you could only have questioned Elsa,

I'm sure you would have believed her.

- We will question you.

You are foolhardy, my dear friend.

I shall go.

But there will be others
come to question you,

and they will not be as gentle as I.

Our government has very little
patience with its enemies.

You might still save yourself.

- But I told you the truth.

- Very well.

- [Martin] Auf wiedersehen Herr Baron.

- Goodbye Herr Schulz.

- Herr Baron.

- And I advise you not to
make any plans to leave.

(dramatic music)

(gentle music)

(bell ringing)

(ominous music)

- [Griselle] Martin.

Martin.

(speaking in foreign language)

- [Max] Martin.

Griselle, Martin, Griselle.

Martin.

Griselle, Martin, Griselle.

Griselle, Griselle.

(dramatic music)

(tense music)

(somber music)

(bell ringing)

(dramatic music)

(footsteps approaching)

(soldiers speaking in foreign language)

(suspenseful music)

(trolley bell ringing)

- Oh, another one from Germany.

You and Germany ought to get
together, Mr. Eisenstein.

Sometimes they find who you're writing to

and sometimes they don't.

They probably ain't got
a system like we got.

We don't send any letters
back address unknown

(chuckling) unless we've tried everything.

I mean, that's the Germans for you.

(dramatic music)

- I don't understand I didn't
send Martin this letter.

(dramatic music)

I haven't written him since.

(suspenseful music)

(dramatic theatrical music)