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AMSTERDAM, SPRING 1944

Oh, Kitty.

I see the world being turned into a desert
bit by bit.

I hear the thunder rolling in,
getting louder…

coming to kill us.

I'm feeling the sorrow
of millions of people.

Yet, when I look up at the sky,

I still believe
that things will change for the better…

That this hardship will end,

and that peace and quiet
will return to the world.

Jews are waiting,

Christians are waiting,

the entire world is waiting,

and many are waiting
for their certain death.

And we are fine.

We are better off
than millions of other people.

We are sitting here quietly
and fairly safe, living on our savings.

We are so egotistical, we even speak
of the times after the war.

We get excited
about new clothes and shoes,

when we should save every cent

to help others after the war,

and to salvage what can be salvaged.

SILS-MARIA, SWITZERLAND
SUMMER 1935

-You can't catch me!
-I'm going to get you.

Matilda is it!

-Anne!
-Matilda is it!

Yes, what is it?

-Anne, come on!
-Hello, Pim.

Aunt O is having a picnic for the family
with cake and ice cream.

Hooray!

Okay.

-Sorry. Say Goodbye.
-Bye!

I got you.

-Your hat.
-Got it.

Pim, come on!

Quicksilver is here,
so we can get started.

-Aunt O, Grandmother.
-Thank you, very gracious.

Maybe Ms. Frank would like
to sit down now?

You're all dirty.

Do I have to get the wash fox?

It's called "washcloth."

Naughty girl.

-Otto?
-Yes?

Why don't you go to Basel, too?

Like your mother and your sister.

Olga, we would still like to come here
on vacation in the future if you'll allow.

Holland is just as safe as Switzerland.
Mother, you know that.

Just closer to Aachen and Frankfurt.

I want to go back home to Frankfurt.

Anne has settled in better than Margot.

But we like Amsterdam.
My family visits from Aachen often.

Yes. And I am about to set up
a new business, Opekta.

I hope it will get better for you.

For all of you.

I will always come to visit you.

Yes, that's nice.

Didn't you say the stuff from your company
was revolutionary for women?

Revolutionary for women.
Hooray, we can make jam now.

-To women!
-To the Dutch.

To Amsterdam.

7 YEARS LATER

Delicious fish!

Delicious fish for the young lady.
It won't get any better. Too bad.

Edith, believe me.

Van Daan said they're sending everyone
to transit camps

and to labor camps in Eastern Europe.

Do you really think
the Germans would send Jews

to labor camps in Russia,
of all places, during a war?

-Van Daan has reliable sources.
-Right.

I think it's a whole lot worse, Edith.

Those are not labor camps.

What should we do?

Amsterdam is about to be

-sealed off for Jews.
-I know.

Please trust me.

I'm so worried
that they'll pick you up first.

Otto.

Please pull yourself together.

Have you heard?

We might not make it out of Amsterdam.

-What?
-Says Mansa.

Luckily, she's clueless.

And what does Pim say?

I think he has a plan.

What's the matter?

-I'm bleeding.
-What?

Down there.

-Show it to me.
-Are you crazy?

Are you really bleeding
or is it just smudging?

You little devil.

So tell me…

-Did you get your period or not?
-I think so.

It's gross.

Mansa thinks it's gross, too. And it is.

Mansa is clueless,
even when it comes to this subject.

-Anne, I'm so happy!
-What did you bring?

Oh, how graceful!

Jews! Get out of the water!

-What do they want?
-Stupid Nazis.

-Idiots.
-Let's get them out there.

-Right here!
-Get out of the water!

Just ignore them.

At least here, we're like everyone else.

Jews, get out of the water!

-Jews, get out of the water!
-Jews, get out of the water!

Get out of the water now!

-No, we have to stay here.
-Get out of there!

-Let's get out of here!
-You, back there!

Yes, she is right.

-Get out of there!
-Damn Jews!

You there! Get out of the water!

Get out of the water, come on.

No Jewish badge. No staying in the water.
Both are prohibited.

Come on. No.

-Do you feel strong now?
-Shut your mouth, Jewish bitch.

I won't shut my mouth.

Do you even understand what you're saying?

How would you feel
if you weren't allowed anything

just because you're a Jew?

No streetcars, no bikes,
no swimming, no movies.

You think that's right?

I do think it's right. Absolutely right.

You'll go to the Jewish hairdresser
from now on.

And go to the Jewish doctor.

And both of you will go
to the Jewish school.

The Jewish school.

And after that,
it's off to the labor camp.

Dirty Jewish scum!

Hey!

You're going to work. Work.

Hey!

That's enough.

Go get your things,
and leave the girls alone.

They haven't done anything to you.

-Go on!
-Come on, guys.

Go!

JEW

JUNE 12TH, 1942
ANNE'S 13TH BIRTHDAY

Best wishes and many blessings

On all your paths

Good health and prosperity

Be with you, too

Happy birthday!

No…

Thank you!

May I open this?

Yes, take this one first.

The biggest first!

-Surprise!
-Surprise!

Hello, Inge.

-Happy birthday, Anne!
-Thank you!

Let me have your coats. I don't want
to see any yellow stars today.

-Come on! Open it already!
-Yes, come on!

-Licorice!
-You like it.

Thank you.

And? How cute!

-From you?
-Yes. Do you like it?

Yes, very much. Thank you.

I am at Anne Frank's home…

I hope I can tell you everything,

more than I have ever told anyone,

and I hope you will be
of great support to me.

For someone like me,
writing in a diary is a peculiar feeling.

Not only have I never written one before,
but I also think that later on, no one,

not me nor anyone else,

will be interested

in the emotional outpourings
of a 13-year-old schoolgirl.

The reason I've decided to keep a diary is

that I don't have a girlfriend.

I have loving parents
and a 16-year-old sister,

and altogether at least 30 acquaintances
or what one can call "girlfriends."

I have many admirers
willing to grant me every wish.

Sometimes, when they can't help it,

they even use a broken hand mirror
to catch a glimpse of me in class.

But I can't have more than fun
with any of them.

I only talk about everyday things to them,
but never about more intimate matters.

That's the problem.

Maybe I am to blame
for this lack of trust.

But regardless, that's the way it is,

and that's the way it will be.

Hence this diary.

To stress the idea
of having an imaginary friend,

I'll pretend that the diary itself
is my girlfriend,

whom I will call

Kitty.

Anne, you're up early.

-Pim, where are you taking all this?
-These are documents for the office.

-The shoes, too?
-Yes, the shoes, too.

Pim…

can you lock that away for me?

-Aren't you worried I'll take a peek?
-Never!

I'm not afraid.

I know, little dame. I know.

-Pim?
-Yes?

Why can't we have a dog?

Jews are not allowed to keep dogs.

Do you always do what the Nazis tell you?

Anne, what do you want me to do?

I have to tell you something, guys.
Do you know the girl from number 35?

She is so ugly! Believe me!
I had to shut my eyes…

Look who's here!

Hello, Anne! How's it going?
Come on over. Come over, cutie.

-Come on, Anne!
-Anne, would you come over?

Go on! It is really great. Try it!

That's how dogs do it!
Do you know what that is?

Like that if we have to.

Anne!

Go upstairs. Wait inside until I get back.
And don't let anyone inside.

You hear me? Just pretend you're not home.

Watch out! Go on, Mom.

Pim got a call.

From the SS.

Where is Pim? Where is Pim, Margot?

I don't know. Mother is looking for him.

-She didn't tell me about it.
-I'm sorry.

No, wait.

Your father is on his way.

-Anne, go to your room.
-Why?

-I have to speak with Margot alone.
-And why can't I know?

Go now.

-Margot?
-Yes?

Come here.

Anne.

It's not about Pim.

-They've come to get me.
-No.

But…

Girls this young. But why?

Anne…

-No…
-No, you're not going.

I'm not leaving. We'll hide.

-Hide?
-You just don't know yet.

Otto.

Otto?

It wasn't worth anything.

We have to go into hiding. Now.

Go on. Pack your things.

Now?

Yes, now. We are leaving tomorrow.

But where are we going?

Don't ask now.
Come on. We have to start packing.

Anne, we're not home.

Miep and Henk.

Let them in.

We…

thought you could use
all the help you can get now.

We can't accept that.

You would put your own lives at risk.

Mr. Frank, should we watch them get Margot
and then the whole family?

-Let us help you.
-Yes.

-Please.
-Please.

JULY 6TH, 1942

MATTEN STREET, 4052 BASEL
SWITZERLAND

Please come along now.

Oh, dear Moortje.

Anne.

GIES & CO.
SPICES, DRUGSTORE, DELICACIES

-Where is Margot?
-She's already in the hideout.

I will come back later
after the workers in the back leave.

Otto, what about these workers?

They don't know.

How's that going to work? Otto!

Hartog and van Maaren are two employees
working in the back,

right below your hideout.

They start every day at 7:30 a.m.
That's in a minute.

You have to be in the hideout before then.
It's too dangerous.

Why haven't they been told?

Mrs. Frank, every extra confidant
is a risk for us, too.

And van Maaren is a member
of the Dutch Nazis, the NSB.

But he's harmless.
Believe me, he's a decent guy.

Yes, good.

Come on, I'll take you upstairs.

Please continue.

-Give me your suitcase.
-Keep going.

-Where to?
-Upstairs, then straight ahead. Quickly.

-Miep. See you later.
-All right, Mr. Frank.

See you soon.

-Good morning.
-Good morning.

Damn weather.

Margot?

Oh, god…

You'll see, the Krauts will win the war,

and screw everyone who didn't play along,
just like the Jews.

It's almost half-past seven.

You have to be more careful.

Pim, how did you do this?

We've been working on this for months now.

One suitcase a day.

Anne, get away from the window!

The windows are staying closed.

Dad, it's so stuffy in here!

-We have to open the windows.
-We can't. Sorry.

-When can we open the windows?
-Never!

The neighbors can't know
that someone is living here.

Never?

Never.

Can we move around freely?

Only in the evenings,

during the workers' lunch break,

and on the weekends.

-What if we have to go to the toilet?
-We can't use the toilet during the day.

-We can't flush?
-I repeat,

we can't use the toilet during the day.

Not a peep from now on.

Let's get to work.

Dear Kitty,

what's harder than I can express in words
is the fact that we can't go outside.

And I'm scared that we'll be discovered
and then shot.

That's not a pleasant prospect.

We, Jews, must put our feelings aside.

We must be brave and strong,

bear discomfort without complaint,

do whatever is in our power,
and trust in God.

One day, this terrible war will be over.

Who has inflicted this on us?

Who has set us Jews
apart from all the rest?

Who has put us through such suffering?

It's God who has made us the way we are,

but it's also God who will lift us again.

If we bear all this suffering,
if there are still Jews left,

the Jewish people will be held up
as an example.

We can never be just Dutch,
or just English, or whatever.

We will always be Jews as well.
But then, we want to be…

Be brave!

Let's remember our duty
and perform it without complaint.

There will be a way out.

The weak shall fall
and the strong shall survive.

We will not be defeated.

Who knows,

maybe it's our faith
that will teach the world and all people

what's good.

ONE WEEK LATER

Come in.

Welcome, Peter.

Hello.

Here you go.

Will you say hello?

-Hello.
-Hello.

-Kerli, move your tush.
-Not now! Hands off!

Not now! Oh, god.

-Is this a tree house?
-Kerli, no jokes. Not now.

-Give me your suitcase, Mr. van Daan.
-Thanks.

-I don't want to.
-Mrs. van Daan, Mr. van Daan, Peter.

-Welcome to the secret annex.
-Yes, this is our salvation.

That was close. Right, Putti?

I thought the Gestapo would show up
at our door any minute.

Not here, Mr. van Daan. Not here.

By the way, your trick worked.

Word is that the Franks fled
via Belgium to Switzerland

to their wealthy relatives.

Well, yes. Cramped but safe.

I've brought something.

-I don't feel at home…
-Groundbreaking, Kerli.

without it.

-How interesting.
-Yes.

Pardon me.

Well, girls,

have you settled in already?

Yes, Mrs. van Daan, we have.

Well…

The conditions around here concerning
your needs have improved, right?

And now, Putti,
we'll officially take that thing off.

Scissors.

Once and for all.

I am fine, I am happy

And I will also tell you why

Because you understand me so well

And with help in word and deed
As my good friend

Walk through life by my side

I will share joy and sorrow with you

Without you, I'll do nothing at all

I am fine, I am happy
And I will also tell you why

Because I can be your friend

That nightgown is absolutely indecent.

What do you think of Peter?

I'm not interested in boys.

Say it. He's boring.

And he was allowed to bring his cat.

My first boyfriend won't be that boring.

You and a boyfriend.
You're still wet behind the ears.

Come here. Wait.

As I expected, wet!

Just look at yourself.

How do you know all that

if boys don't interest you?

To be good, nice and clever…
That's not everything, dear sister.

-Let me have this.
-Stop it.

The straps are too long.

I know. Go get some socks
to stuff them with.

-What?
-Go on.

-You're really terrible.
-And you're too good.

-Margot?
-Yes?

How long will it be
until this really fits me?

A year, at least.

Do you think I'm very ugly?

I think you look silly, Anne.

And you have beautiful eyes.

-Mrs. van der Dussen, you're already here?
-Hello.

Anne.

-Whose towels are these?
-Ours.

Mrs. Frank,
can you come here for a second?

Yes? What is it?

I thought this was my linen closet.

It's in our room, after all.

There must be a misunderstanding,
Mrs. van Daan.

The room is for everyone,
and so is the closet.

I wouldn't know
where else to put our linen.

Right.

Miep is coming.

Miep.

Miep, how are you?
What's going on out there?

Did you get everything we asked for?

They blocked your ration cards, Mr. Frank.

What?

You are reported as missing.

That was to be expected.

Will the grocer take guilder?

Less and less so.

That's why
I only got 15 pounds of potatoes.

-Did you find out where Moortje is?
-Anne.

It's fine. Anne, I don't know.

They disconnected the phones
in all Jewish homes.

Moortje.

Miep, what is it?

What is it, Miep? The girls should know
what's going on out there.

There's a rumor
that the Germans will pass a new law.

I see…

The remaining Jews
have to report in and choose.

Choose between what?

Deportation or sterilization.

Those who get sterilized can stay

and get a red "J"
stamped in their passport,

instead of the black "J."

The lowlifes rule the young and the old,
the rich and the poor.

Germans are marvelous people.
And to think that I’m still one of them…

But no, Hitler made us stateless long ago.

And besides,

there is no greater enmity in this world

than the one between Germans and Jews.

Good evening, Mr. Frank.

Good evening, Mr. Kugler.

-How are you?
-Well, thank you. And you?

I am well.

Everything is ready in the office.

Anne?

-Yes.
-Do you want to pet her?

No, I've got my own cat.

-And where is she?
-She's Jewish. In the underground.

-Anne…
-Good night.

Good night.

Have a look at this. Those are
the recent numbers of the spice trade.

Impressive.

I'll say, between that
and what Opekta is making,

we should be fine until it's over.

And if the war continues?

It will all work out.

I do have a question, Mr. Frank.

-Yes?
-A Jewish dentist,

originally from Berlin,

came to Amsterdam like you did,
and now he's stuck here.

So?

There are more
and more deportations these days.

That man is asking for help.

-What's his name?
-Fritz Pfeffer.

We know him.

Kugler, if we can feed seven,

we can feed eight.

Pim?

How deep was it? This deep? Or like this?

I told you that the strawberry jam recipes
don't make great toilet paper.

Gross!

-You're disgusting, Anne.
-Why? Some of them still looked like new.

Anne!

Why are you so clumsy?

My precious dishes!

We've hardly got anything left as it is.

I'm so sorry.

Peter, if you wouldn't stare at her
the entire time,

this might not have happened.

-Stop grinning.
-Look,

it's the third cup
you've ruined this year.

And tell me, Anne, who told you
to use my dishes when you set the table?

No one. I like yours.

Admit it, you're just trying to spare
your mother's dishes.

-Mrs. van Daan, that's not true.
-How dare you!

I know girls
who are better behaved than Anne.

Thank God for Margot.

We think Anne is well-behaved.

You're protecting her?

I believe she did learn to stop responding

to your endless sermons, Mrs. van Daan.

That's outrageous. Putti?

Kerli, she's just a child.

A child? I wish!

Enough already. Sit down.

Sit down! Go on and sit down!

You have a strange definition
of well-behaved.

In my day, things were different.

And I'm sure
things are still different today.

Except, of course, in your modern family.

-I said, enough already!
-It's all right.

-I think modesty will serve us all.
-I am modest.

Much more so than my husband, for example.

Yes, now the fat is in the fire.

Anne.

I'm telling you, wipe that smirk
off your face. It's insulting.

Your mother is right.
You have to become much more modest!

Anne!

She just wasn't brought up right.

No matter what I do,
you always criticize me, Mrs. van Daan.

My behavior, my character, my manners…

You talk and gab about me all day long.

This is something

I wasn't used to at all,

harsh words and shouting directed at me.

Do you expect me to simply tolerate that?

I can't. And I don't intend
to take these insults.

I'll show you what Anne Frank is made of.

You'll be surprised and you'll shut up

when I show you it's not my upbringing
you should be concerned with,

but yours.

Anne, apologize to Mrs. van Daan at once!

Am I really this badly behaved,

headstrong, stubborn, immodest, stupid,
and lazy as they all insist?

No.

-Good morning.
-Good morning.

Pim?

Yes?

-I just have to say this to you.
-What?

I love you more than Mom.

There it is.

I have finally said it.

It will pass.

-I don't think so.
-You'll see.

Come here.

Dad is still working.

Should we pray together?

No, Mansa.

I don't want to be angry with you.
I know love can't be forced.

A few tears were running down Mansa's face
as she walked out the door.

I was lying there and immediately thought
it was mean of me to reject her so rudely.

But I also know that
there was nothing else I could've said.

I couldn't pretend and ignore
the way I felt when I pray with her.

I just couldn't.

I felt pity for her. A great deal of pity.

For the first time in my life, I felt that
being cold towards her had hurt her.

I saw sadness in her face

when she said that love can't be forced.

It was hard to say the truth,
but it is the truth.

She turned me against her.

With her tactless comments,

she turned me away from any love
I could have had for her.

With her jokes about things
that I didn't find funny…

Just like how I have tensed up every time
she has harsh words for me,

she tensed up when she realized
that there is no love left between us.

Anne.

-You have to apologize to Mansa.
-I won't.

-Because I don't love her.
-You must not say things like that.

-And it isn't true!
-But it is true.

I have to force myself
to remain calm and not snap at her.

I could slap her right in the face.

-Slap her?
-Yes, slap her.

I could imagine losing Mother.

But I couldn't stand it if Pim died.

That Mansa dies? That's very mean of you!

Well, that's the way I feel.

What about you?

I would be distraught
if any one of us were to die.

You don't understand me.

No one understands you.

Really, Anne. No one understands you.

Leave.

NOVEMBER 17TH, 1942
DAY 134 IN THE SECRET ANNEX

Where are we?

Enter.

Go on.

-Up here?
-Yes.

That must be him.

-I don't understand.
-Doctor.

Come on in.

-Mrs. Frank.
-Have a seat.

Mr. Frank.

But you're…

-But you're not in Belgium.
-No.

And…

-the car…
-We'll explain everything later. Please.

You didn't get away.

Anne has prepared something.

We will now read
the Secret Annex Brochure and Manual

written by the Hideout Commission.

"The secret annex is a temporary
special facility for Jews and their kind.

Its doors are open year-round.

It's a lovely and quiet place
located in the heart of Amsterdam.

There are no neighbors. It's rent-free,
and the cuisine it has is fat-free.

It has running water in the bathroom
and on various walls.

It has an in-house radio station
with connections to London,

New York, Tel Aviv, and other cities.

Listening to German news
is prohibited there.

And recreational activities
are canceled for now."

Oh, no!

"Daily exercise and spirits
are only available on doctor's orders."

-We can change that.
-That would be your job.

"Speaking rules.
Everyone must speak quietly at all times.

All civilized languages are permitted.

Therefore, no German."

Thank you, Anne.

"No German."

How many people know about the annex?

Just us and four employees
in the front office.

But,

they are all absolutely trustworthy.

Or are you implying anything?

-Right, Kerli?
-That's right, indeed!

-Indeed!
-Indeed!

Are you as certain about all the others?

We've been living here
for four months now.

If we can save someone's life…

Then everything else becomes secondary.

I'm just asking

because every Jew in Amsterdam

has been trying to find a safe house

over the last few weeks.

And it doesn't always end well.

We are living on a powder keg!

Right, Kerli?

Yes, Putti. That's true.

Yes.

A toast.

May no one find us.

Mr. Pfeffer, we need to have faith.

-That's right.
-Yes.

-And we can have faith.
-Yes.

I'll put my toothbrush in this glass
right here. Is that okay?

No.

We'll get along, I'm sure.

How does it feel?

Being alone
and locked up with two families?

I have a wife.

Out there.

Out there?

She can move about freely
because she's a Christian.

And you're a Jew.

And you're here by yourself.

You're too young to understand.

SPRING, 1943

Anne, thinner skins.

Anne? Look.

I'm holding the knife like this.

And peel from the top going down.

From the top going down.

No, not like that.

But it doesn't work that way.

But this is the best way. Believe me!

Kitty, picture this.

Dussel, the dentist,

has his pants pulled up to his chest,

wears black patent-leather slippers
and horn-rimmed glasses.

He's always working,
without making any progress.

For Grande Dame Mrs. van Daan,
it's always about Dussel.

But he can't stand her.

She always needs an audience.

Whether that person is even interested
or not doesn't matter.

Children,

I listened to Radio Oranje.

If the Allied Forces
invade from the north,

they'll be in Amsterdam within three days.

-Is that true?
-Yes.

And if they're coming from the south,
it won't take more than three weeks.

If there will be an invasion…

-Putti, why don't you sit down?
-I'm fine. I prefer to stand.

-You're splashing everywhere!
-I'm being careful, you can see that.

Mr. van Daan…

-Why aren't the British attacking now?
-Because the weather is bad.

But the weather was fine yesterday,

and they didn't fly then either.

-Let's not talk about it.
-Why not?

-Everybody can say what they think.
-No.

Mother.

The doctor is right,
there won't be an invasion.

Right, Doctor?

Everybody would appreciate it if you could
keep your opinions to yourself for once.

Sometimes, the atmosphere in the house
is stifling and heavy.

Not a single bird can be heard outside,

and a deathly, oppressive silence
hangs over the house.

I feel like a songbird with wings
that have been brutally ripped off,

who keeps hurling itself
against the bars of its dark cage.

Did you hear that?

Continue.

JUNE 23RD, 1943
DAY 353 IN THE SECRET ANNEX

You are laughing.

He is laughing. We are laughing.
You are laughing. They are laughing.

Now, it's your turn.

I'll get my period soon.

You?

Yes.

I've got this sticky stuff in my undies
and Mansa sort of predicted it.

Anne, how can you be excited about that?

I can hardly wait!

Too bad I don't get to wear sanitary pads.

Do you think they'll make them again
after the war?

No idea.

And those pointy things are only for women
who have had children already.

Or what do you think?

I am laughing. You are laughing.
He is laughing. We are laughing.

Is that all you think about?

OUR NEW PUZZLE COMPETITION

Anne.

He just ran off.

Go on, kitty.

New photo? From Cinema magazine.
Buster Crabbe.

Yes, Tarzan.

It's an older film though.

When was the last time
you went to the movies?

May I?

Sure, here.

English regicide starting with a "C,"
with "W" in the middle.

A total of eight letters.

Try "Cromwell."

-Yes, "Cromwell" fits.
-Told you.

Let me see.

Try on your own. I'll watch.

I would like to ask Peter whether he knows
what girls look like down there.

I doubt he has ever seen a girl up close.

And to be honest, neither have I.

I don't think boys are as complicated
as girls down there.

You can easily see what boys look like
in photographs or pictures of male nudes.

But not with women.

So here we go…

Between their legs
are two soft, cushiony things

that press together when they're standing.

You can't see what's inside.
These things separate upon sitting down.

And these are red
and quite fleshy on the inside.

The hole is so small.

I can hardly imagine
how a man could get in there,

much less how a baby could come out.

It's hard enough trying to get
your index finger inside.

That is all. And it plays such a big part.

How many times have I told you
not to put paper in the trash bin?

-So what?
-That's your scrawling. Shorthand.

And where do I find it? In the trash.
It belongs in the stove, so we have heat.

-I forgot.
-You remember all the other crap.

If it's important, yes.

Just leave me alone!
I want to get away from all this!

Away from the entire world.
Away from your limitations.

I can't imagine living life like you
or Mrs. van Daan,

or all the other women
who won't be remembered.

Anne…

Nothing ever changes!

You're smoking away all our money.
You just smoke and smoke!

I wanted to buy some nice dresses
after the war!

Nice dresses!

-Calm down!
-Nice dresses!

Oh, Anne.

Is that you?

Is that really you?

This hate.

Yet you still defend her.

-Anne is 14 years old--
-Can't you see how I feel?

Yes, I can definitely see that.

Margot is a totally different person.

Quiet, polite, and modest.

-What have I done wrong in raising Anne?
-Nothing. Anne is who she is.

She is who she is,
and she does as she pleases.

And everyone else has to deal with it.

Look at it this way.

She's high-spirited, and there's no room
for her to let it all out.

She's roaming around everywhere.

Yes, everywhere.
We live in very tight quarters.

I'd like to scream at everyone,
"Leave me alone! Everyone!"

Everyone thinks
I'm showing off when I talk,

that I'm ridiculous when I'm silent,

insolent when I answer,

cunning when I have a good idea,

lazy when I'm tired, selfish when I eat
one bite more than I should,

stupid, cowardly, and calculating.

I want to yell at everyone,

"Leave me alone, let me have at least
one night when I don't cry myself to sleep

with my eyes burning and my head pounding.

Let me get away from everything."

But I can't.
I can't show them my desperation.

Smile!

Why should I smile?

Because it's pretty.

Your cheeks show your dimples.

How does that happen?

I was born with them.

-That's the only pretty thing about me.
-That's not true.

It is. I know that I'm not pretty.

I never was and I never will be.

I disagree. I think you're pretty.

That's not true.

I have to tell you something important.

The Dutch government in exile announced
that after the war,

they would publish diaries and letters

that were written during the war.

I don't even know
if anybody will be interested at all

in how we, Jews, were living here,
or how we ate and spoke.

How scared we are when bombs are falling

and the houses shiver
like grass in the wind.

One day, you will be very famous, Anne.

SUNDAY, JULY 25TH, 1943
AIRSTRIKE OF THE ALLIES

Come to me.

Take my hand! Come!

I have a new solution for this.

You have to run up and down the stairs

until you really…

fall badly.

With the bruises and the noise,

you have enough to deal with
to forget about the shooting

and everything else.

You see?

Anne!

Stop it, Anne!

The English should be trying
to save us, not kill us!

Your father tends the sheep

Your mother shakes the dreamland tree

And from it fall sweet…

Otto.

They are trying to hit
the German war industry.

Sleep, baby, sleep

Sleep, baby…

The Germans don't have
a single plane left in the sky.

Your father tends the sheep

Your mother shakes the dreamland tree
And from it fall sweet…

It can't be much longer.

Sleep, baby, sleep

Dear God, why are you doing this to us?

Dear God, why are you
allowing this to happen?

Light?

Light?

You're writing on loose pages now.

I've improved it.

I have to rephrase things.

But why?

I want to become a famous author.

Don't get ahead of yourself.

-What's that going to be? A novel?
-Give it back.

After the war, this will be published.

And do you know what it will be called?

The Secret Annex, by Annelies Marie Frank.

Are you writing because of him?

Does he know that you write?

-I have to go upstairs now.
-Is it going to be another date?

Just come along!

And be the fifth wheel?

If this goes on like this…

What?

The war and that thing with Peter.

So?

There will be a wedding
with potatoes and turnips…

You're talking nonsense.

Nonsense.

Do you love him?

Listeners, an hour and 15 minutes ago,

just as I was finishing up the daily news,

we received the wonderful news

of Italy's unconditional surrender.

I tell you,

I never tossed the latest news
into the wastebasket

with more delight than I did today,

that thereby made it obsolete!

It's the beginning of the end.

The British landed in Naples.

But I have always told you…

-They had already signed the ceasefire…
-Be quiet.

The Germans will be cussing and cursing

the Italian king,
and call him the "traitor."

Right, Kerli?

Oh, Putti…

God, save our gracious king

Long live our noble king

God, save the…

Happy and glorious

Over us

The machine is off.

Why is the machine turned off?

There's noise up there.

-Get down! Now!
-But he's right.

Must be rats. Get back to work.

Get down!

Turn the machine back on.

Mr. Frank.

Do you have a minute?

I'm sure it will be quick.

A break-in. Be quiet!

Mr. van Daan, switch off the lights.

Putti, be careful!

There's a hole in the door.
Turn off the flashlight.

We have to cover the hole immediately,
Mr. van Daan.

Wait. There's a hole in the door.

Where?

It's the Opekta warehouse.
We deliver to them.

Are you insane? We have a blackout!

No plane in sight. Let's see…

You should call the police. You hear me?

And if they ask questions?

What's wrong with asking questions?

Come on.

We have to leave the hole as it is.

They will call the police.

Come on.

Where are Peter and Hans?

Burglars entered the warehouse,

maybe the office as well.

Passersby noticed the burglary.

So?

-I don't know if they'll go to the police.
-What does that mean?

-What does that mean?
-It means we'll have to wait.

Maybe Miep can help us…

It's Friday.

We won't get outside help until Monday.

-Hello?
-Is someone there?

Gestapo!

-Hello?
-Anybody there?

No, there's nothing here.

And if they come again

-and leave a guard?
-We have to wait.

Maybe until Monday morning.

-Have you seen anything?
-There's nothing.

Nobody move.

Will you send a guard?

The radio.

The radio outside.

If the radio is still set to Radio Oranje
and they find it, we're all…

-We'll put it in the oven!
-Kerli, have you lost your mind?

If they find us,
they might as well find the radio.

Yes, and they'll find Anne's diary.

We have to burn it.

We are in danger because we're Jews,
and not because a girl is writing a diary.

MONDAY MORNING

-It's not so bad.
-Yes, it is.

Miep!

The police went to the revolving door
but didn't go further.

Someone witnessed the burglary
from the outside.

It's the grocer and his wife.
But he didn't go to the police.

We must have faith. Not everybody is bad.

Reeling, we pressed against each other,
again and again,

never to stop.

Dearest Kitty, remember this day.

It's very important in my entire life.

Isn't it important for every girl
when she has her first kiss?

DECEMBER 28TH, 1943
DAY 539 IN THE SECRET ANNEX

Blessed are You, Lord our God,

King of the universe,

Who has sanctified us
with His commandments

and commanded us to kindle the…

-Hanukkah light.
-Hanukkah light.

PEACE
1944

Hey, you.

Peter touched me.

It was deeper than anyone did
before in my life.

Peter touched me
and it turned me inside out.

I am more experienced than the others.

I've experienced something
anyone my age hardly knows.

I'm scared of myself.

I'm worried that I might give
into my yearnings too soon.

Anne?

Yes?

Come here, please.

-Now, please.
-Okay.

I don't want any kissing, Anne.

Not here in this house,

and not at your age.

Okay.

You're disappointed.

You've expected more restraint.

I want you to act the way
a 14-year-old is supposed to act.

I am the way I am.

When I had a tough time, you guys,
including you, closed your eyes

and shut your ears.

You didn't help me.
I was just reprimanded instead.

And told not to act a certain way.

I was only loud
so that I wouldn't be sad all the time.

I've been putting on a show
for a year and a half, day in and day out.

Ever since we got here
almost two years ago,

it hasn't been easy for me
to become independent.

It took more than a day

to be able to be independent of Mother
or anyone else's support.

It was a fight and I won.
I'm independent in body and mind.

No human being

is entirely independent, Anne.

Not me either,
and definitely not a girl of 14.

But I am.

Pim doesn't want us kissing.

He treats me like a child.

I will write him a letter.

I also told him that I trust you.

Still,

when we get out of here,

you won't take care of me anymore.

I know that.

That's not true, Anne.

Kiss me or ask me to leave.

You are beautiful.

I am not.

I love you, Anne.

I love you, too.

And now that I've managed to do that,

you can no longer treat me
like a 14-year-old.

The challenges have made me
grow up faster.

You can't gently keep me at a distance.

Either you forbid everything
or you trust me no matter what.

But if you do, you have to leave me alone.

I know that I'm an independent person,

and I don't feel responsible
for any of you.

I don't need a mother anymore.

The has struggle made me strong.

Pim?

Father?

Why are you quiet?

How dare you?

After all the love and affection
you've received from us,

after all that we've been through here?

How dare you
try to dodge your responsibilities?

You feel neglected?

Left alone?

No, Anne, that's a great injustice
you've inflicted upon us.

We do not deserve an accusation like that.

No.

As I've told you many times,
I feel like my soul is split in two.

One soul contains
my exuberant cheerfulness,

my flippancy,

my love of life,

and, above all, my ability to appreciate
the lighter side of things.

By that, I mean not finding
anything wrong with flirtations,

a kiss, an embrace, and a saucy joke.

This side of me is usually lying in wait
to ambush the other one,

which is much purer, deeper, and finer.

Isn't it? Anne's nice side.

No one knows that side,
and that's why most people can't stand me.

I can be an amusing clown
for an afternoon,

but after that,
everyone has had enough of me.

I hate having to tell you this,

but why shouldn't I admit it

when I know it's true?

My lighter, more superficial side

will always trump my deeper side,

and therefore, it always wins.

To be perfectly honest, I must admit

it hurts me

that I try so hard to change…

but I keep having to face
these powerful forces.

I'm sure my own family thinks I'm sick.

They give me headache medication

and sedatives.

They touch my neck and forehead
to see if I have a fever.

They ask about my bowel movements

and complain about my bad moods.

You know what,
after the war, I'll become a criminal.

Or a venture capitalist.

That's neither smart nor romantic.

It only shows a lack of character.

Not everyone is as strong as Anne.

I can't imagine how anyone can say,
"I am weak."

If you know you're weak,
why don't you do something about it,

like strengthen your character?

It's easier not to.

So you think a lazy
and deceitful life is easier?

Yes.

I've often thought how wonderful
it would be to have someone's trust.

But now that I have it,

I understand how difficult it is
to think like someone else

and to find the right answer.

The invasion!

JUNE 6TH, 1944
D-DAY

They have finally landed.

The Americans, the French, the Canadians.

All of them. I don't know who else.

They are all fighting for our freedom.

Maybe I can go back to school again

-in September or October.
-Yes.

-And I can go back to my dance class.
-To freedom, gentlemen.

Let's skip "Mr. Frank."

It's Otto.

Hans.

Fritz. Pleasure to meet you.

To freedom.

To freedom.

-Pim?
-Yes?

JUNE 12TH, 1944
ANNE'S 15TH BIRTHDAY

The diary I got back then helped me a lot.

I know my faults better than anyone else.

But the difference now is
I want to change.

And you have changed.

But now…

Best wishes and many blessings
On all your paths

Good health and prosperity

Be with you, too

One, two, three…

Wrong way!

-It's too much, thank you.
-Happy birthday!

-But the cheese is for me.
-No, it's mine!

Thank you, Margot.

JULY 1944

-Quiet!
-Eighteen pounds of strawberries!

Without ration cards.
We haven't had that many in years!

This is what heaven must look like!

The machine has stopped.

I don't care.

Anne, please.

The annex is in an uproar!

Could it be that the liberation
we have longed for is within reach?

The liberation
which we have spoken of so much?

Something seemingly too beautiful,
too fairytale-like, to ever come true.

Should this year, this 1944,
bring victory with it?

We don't know yet.

But hope revives us,
and it gives us courage.

It makes us strong again.

Now is the time
to stay calm and steadfast.

Better to press the nails into the flesh
than scream out loud.

France, Russia, Italy, and Germany
can scream with misery.

But we do not have the right to do that.

Could you, for once,
do something meaningful

instead of that adolescent nonsense?

Kitty, the best thing about the invasion

is that I have a feeling
that friends are on the way.

The horrible Germans
have suppressed us for so long,

and have pressed their knives
into our throats,

that having friends and being rescued
mean everything to us.

YOURS, ANNE

AUGUST 4TH, 1944
DAY 759 IN THE SECRET ANNEX

-Whose building is this?
-Mr. Wessels.

We're only tenants.

-Who's the boss around here?
-I am.

You are hiding Jews here. Where are they?

Come with me.

Go on, move.

Open it.

Gestapo.

Raise your hands!

You, out! Hands above your head.

-I said above your head! Now!
-Go.

Go on. Up against the wall!

Well…

Where's the money? The valuables?

In the safe behind the door.

Search everything. The attic, too.

You can lower your hands now.

Go on.

-I can offer you money…
-Shut up, Jew!

Whose is this?

Mine.

I was an officer in the Great War.

Why didn't you report in?
We would have sent you to Theresienstadt.

A priority camp for Jews like you!

How long have you been hiding here?

Two years and one month.

That's impossible. That can't be.

Well then…

Get ready. We're leaving in five minutes.

Faster, come on!

Go on!

Go on!

-Come on, get out.
-This is our room.

You have five minutes
to gather your stuff!

Go!

Light!

Light!

Light!

Pim!

August 8th.

I no longer have a diary.
Just my thoughts.

From Amsterdam to Westerbork by train.

Outside, it is summer.

There are meadows and fields.
The harvest has been brought in already.

Glimpses of passing villages.

Telephone lines along the railroad brush
against the windows, moving up and down.

It's like freedom,

but we know that this won't be a vacation.

I found my way back to Mansa.
We are close.

A freight train arrives in the camp.

There are livestock wagons
one after the other.

We are on the list.

Just like all the other thousands of Jews

who are crammed into railway wagons
like cattle with us,

in a dark space
surrounded by a horrific stench.

In the wagons, we are together

with the corpses of those people
who haven't survived the trip.

September 7th.

The whole family
for the last time together,

Margot, Mansa, Pim and I.

On the evening of the third day,
the train stops.

Rifle butts hammer against the doors.

A glaring light blinding us,

and the barking of vicious dogs
filling our ears.

"Jews out, quickly, out…"

The men pull out the corpses,

and they lie next to the suitcases
by the train.

Pim and I…

On the ramp, he is pulled away from me
into another direction.

Now, we are alone.

CONCENTRATION CAMP AUSCHWITZ,
RECORDING BARRACKS

PRISONER CARD
AUSCHWITZ

AT THE START OF NOVEMBER,
ANNE AND MARGOT WERE DEPORTED

TO THE CONCENTRATION CAMP
AT BERGEN-BELSEN.

AT THE END OF FEBRUARY, MARGOT DIED
OF ILLNESS AND MALNUTRITION.

SHE WAS 19 YEARS OLD.

ANNE DIED A FEW DAYS LATER.

THE BODIES OF BOTH LIE
IN THE MASS GRAVES OF BERGEN-BELSEN.

PETER VAN PELS (PETER VAN DAAN) DIED
ON MAY 5TH, 1945 IN MAUTHAUSEN.

AUGUSTE VAN PELS (PETRONELLA VAN DAAN)

DIED IN SPRING 1945,
ON THE JOURNEY TO THERESIENSTADT.

HERMANN VAN PELS (HANS VAN DAAN)
DIED IN A GAS CHAMBER IN AUSCHWITZ

IN THE AUTUMN OF 1944.

FRITZ PFEFFER (ALBERT DUSSEL)
DIED IN DECEMBER 1944

IN THE NEUENGAMME
CONCENTRATION CAMP.

EDITH FRANK-HOLLÄNDER DIED
OF STARVATION

AT THE START OF JANUARY 1945
IN AUSCHWITZ.

AMONGST THE INHABITANTS
OF THE SECRET ANNEX,

OTTO FRANK IS THE ONLY SURVIVOR
OF THE HOLOCAUST.

Writing is a cure-all for me.

My sorrows disappear, my courage returns.

I want to live on, past my death.

ANNE FRANK WAS 15 YEARS OLD.