Original subtitles

With the end, yes, I think now I

know how we should have always started, namely

with the end.

Every, every notebook and every story, especially

the Roman manuscripts, you have to

destroy everything.

Nothing should be left.

Promise me that you will take care of

it.

What else should you start with, if not

with the end?

You have to promise, Max.

That's enough, Max.

But I'm the whole way.

That exhausts him too much, you have to

go.

You're not supposed to talk, Franz.

Turn your head.

Write it down here.

Come on, Max, you have to leave him

now.

But we still have to make up for

it.

Actually, the last chapter begins a year before,

a little more than a year.

It begins with a tired traveler.

Sickly written at the insurance company he works

for.

A traveler who arrives in a village in

the evening.

It won't take long, sir.

The new bike is almost there.

Doesn't matter, it won't hurry.

Are you skiing, sir?

We are the most popular winter sport in.

Böhmern.

Skiing, skiing, sledding, sled shoes, we have everything.

It could be a little more snow.

But next week it should change.

No, none of it.

I'm on a diet.

That's smart.

Our fresh air has healed everyone.

Everyone.

It was late at night when Karl arrived.

Where are

you going?

I'm almost done.

It was late at night when Karl arrived.

The village lay in deep snow.

There was nothing to see from Schlossberg.

Fog and darkness enveloped it.

Not even the weakest beam of light indicated

the large castle.

Karl stood on the wooden bridge for a

long time, leading from the country road to

the village.

Welcome, Dr. Kafka.

May I take your suitcase?

No problem.

Good evening, Dr. Kafka.

Did you have a good trip?

Yes, thank you.

It's cold.

Yes, it's cold, but you can move here.

Are you skiing?

One moment.

This is room 13, Mr. Doctor.

I am the son of the castle owner.

This village is owned by the castle.

No one is allowed to sleep here without

permission.

Then I'll have to get permission.

Now, at night.

This is a country road.

I demand respect from the authorities.

You must leave the area immediately.

I am the landlubber.

What?

The landlubber that the Count had brought.

I can't let you sleep here.

My assistants will come in the car tomorrow.

I see you writing in the morning.

I see you writing in the evening.

Is this one of your books, Dr. Kafka?

That's hard to say.

When my husband told me that a famous

writer was coming to Spindelmülle, I thought, maybe

he's even writing a novel here.

And now you're really doing it.

I'm not ready yet.

I don't even have permission to be here

yet.

My hero.

The hero of my novel.

He doesn't have permission yet.

What are you saying, Dr. Kafka?

Everyone is allowed to be here.

Everyone who pays the bill.

No!

Who are you waiting for?

For a sledge that will take me.

There is no sledge here.

It's the road that leads to the castle.

Still.

There is no traffic here.

Well, if you want, then I'll take you

with my sledge.

How much do you want for it?

Nothing.

You are the landowner, and belong to the

castle.

Where do you want to go?

To the castle.

Then I'm not going.

But as if he should be given a

sign before he leaves.

He rang a bell there, a joyfully ringing

bell, which at least for a moment let

the heart beat.

As if he were threatened, for the sound

was also painful.

The fulfillment of what he was uncertainly yearning

for.

Who are you?

Your helpers.

You are my old helpers, whom I let

follow.

Whom I await.

That's good.

Do you understand anything about landownership?

No.

But if you are my old helpers, it's

hard with you.

How can I tell you apart?

You are...

I'm Frieda.

I'm the landowner.

I know.

Who are you?

Barnabas is my name.

I'm a messenger.

Do you like it here?

A message from the castle.

You have been admitted to the royal services.

Your next supervisor is the chancellor.

Signature Klamm.

Frieda, do you know Mr. Klamm?

Yes.

Very well.

Why are you laughing?

I'm his lover.

Maybe you're laughing at me, Miss Frieda, but

maybe we could talk in peace.

I don't know what you want.

Do you want to take me away from.

Klamm?

It's all so dark and mythical.

At the same time, it's all about you.

But tell me, can you do it?

I don't know if I can continue writing.

I've run out of strength since I left.

Spindle Mill.

Maybe I won't...

But come to the castle at the end.

He doesn't give up in his fight, but

he dies of exhaustion.

Around his deathbed the community gathers.

That's where the decision that he doesn't have

a right to live in the village, but

that he is allowed to live and work

in the village On certain circumstances?

Circumstances, yes.

So he experiences grace.

You're the doctor who's here on call, aren't

you?

And you take care of the children I

always hear from my window.

I hope you're not too loud.

No, it sounds nice.

I'm Dora Diamant.

Her name is Diamant.

Diamant or Diamant or Diamant.

You can write it however you like.

My parents are Jews from deep in Russia.

I grew up in Poland, and now I

live in Berlin.

I take care of the refugee children that

the Jewish community takes care of.

I noticed him right away.

Famous writer, young girl, Jew.

Older than me, but not very old.

He needs someone to look after him.

He's sick.

He won't get far alone.

You can see that.

Do you know Berlin?

Better than you love me.

I was there just before the resettlement.

What happened?

The war.

But it's over.

You're right.

What do you mean?

You want to try?

Berlin.

I want to try.

I think it's time.

Do you really want to?

The war is over.

I'm not on vacation.

Nothing can stop me.

But where will you live?

You'll find something.

You'll never find it.

There's always someone who finds something.

Someone will find something.

If it wasn't so hard to move.

It's not that hard.

You need a room.

I'll find it in a week.

You should.

Why not?

As if it were You should help him

find an apartment.

Why not?

Didn't you want to move together?

It would be impolite for two unmarried people.

Before the war, yes.

And in Prague, still.

But in Berlin a new era began.

She's looking for an apartment for you?

Why not?

Franz!

You have a girlfriend in Berlin.

Not tonight.

I have one, too.

You met her, Emi.

But Elsa can't find out.

She'll get a divorce.

Then you could go to Emi.

But if Emi wants it?

Max, it's different.

Dora only helps me.

Emi helps me, too.

Franz, I think it's great that you finally

found the strength to really give up.

Maybe it's only for a short time.

And I'll tell my parents that it's just

a little trip.

Take care of yourself.

My boy.

I will, Mom.

If my son thinks he's in Berlin...

He does.

The mice are dancing on the table in

Berlin.

You can hear them.

It's getting late.

There's no tomorrow.

I'm just saying.

Schuessler will stay at your service.

An insurance agent from Prague who didn't make

it to the head of the department.

What does someone like you want in Berlin?

Goodbye, Dad.

What do I want?

Franz.

Franz.

The train to Berlin is leaving soon.

Everyone get in.

The Prague district is once again completely packed.

If there's a Prague district, Werfel won't be

part of it.

Werfel?

You here?

I won't let myself say goodbye to the

greatest poet of Prague.

We'll be poorer here and very lonely without

you.

But you don't live in Prague anymore.

Externally.

I just read your new play, The Silencer.

Oh, thank you.

You didn't like it?

Yes, yes.

I didn't You didn't dislike it?

Yes.

Dislike would have been pointless.

You turned the lonely, tormented man into a

madman.

Into a case for psychoanalysis and that's not

fair.

That's just wrong.

You were a leader of the generation.

This is a retreat from leadership.

It's a betrayal, a defamation of our suffering.

I'm sorry.

That was exaggerated.

I didn't mean to say that I...

It's just because I was so horrified.

I admire you so much.

I mean, I've had you so far and

the Silencer came to me like a thick

brown mud in three acts.

It wasn't a reading.

It was like a wait-and-see through

pure mud.

Thank you.

Thank you for coming for me.

You're welcome.

I'll see

you soon in Berlin.

I'm often there.

We'll go to Emi.

I liked the Silencer, Mr. Werfel.

Leave it.

But I didn't read it like Franz.

I saw it in the theater.

Wonderful scenes.

Great stage design.

Beautiful people.

A few weeks later, the famous writer Max.

Broth runs his business back to Berlin.

He no longer works for the Post.

His novel Tycho Brache's Way to God has

sold over 50,000 copies.

His opera Nenufar and Katja Kavanova, composed by

Leos Janacek, are played at many opera houses.

Businesses could hardly get any better.

And he has an actress as a secret

admirer.

And now he visits his best friend who

has emigrated to Berlin.

He's worried.

Kafka usually doesn't get by without bread.

It's always been like that.

It won't have changed suddenly.

Max?

Dora.

Yes, I'm Dora.

Franz is waiting for you.

But he's tired.

You can't stay long.

Not long?

Max, how nice.

How was your trip?

I knew Berlin well.

But getting out to Steglitz was difficult.

There was unrest on the Kudamm.

There was a police check.

I saw bricks flying.

It's always like that here.

But in Steglitz we don't notice much of

it.

Do you write?

Always.

Do you finish the castle?

No.

Something new.

But you have to finish the castle.

Kurt Wolff wants a novel.

Everyone's waiting for it.

You could...

Leave him, Max.

He's exhausted.

He was in town yesterday.

I have to go to the police once

a week to get my life certificate so

I can get my salary.

It's very exhausting.

It's a golgotha for him.

He needs three days to recover.

But you could...

We're at your place, Max.

Yes?

You have a phone?

Our landlord.

Who's at the door?

Dr. Kafka.

Your father.

My God.

I'll get it.

She's an angel.

Mr. Kafka, this is Dora.

He's fine.

He's just tired.

Yes.

No, unfortunately you can't...

He's sleeping.

No, Mr. Kafka, I can't wake him up.

He has a very severe...

Mr. Kafka, as I said, I can't do

that.

Franz has to rest.

You can call again next week.

But what I wanted to tell you is

really important.

Listen to me, Mr. Kafka.

If you send the money, then before you

send it, you can't exchange it for money.

It's already worthless when we get it.

Don't exchange it for money.

It's not that hard, is it?

Mr. Kafka, you understand that, don't you?

Franz has to get the money in cronies.

Otherwise it's as if he doesn't get any

money.

In cronies, Mr. Kafka.

Yes.

Yes.

Thank you for listening.

You see, some things never change.

I still need money from my parents.

And please don't be so loud again, Mr.

Kafka.

But other things change as I see them.

Oh, by the way, can I get my

money for this week?

You'll get it.

We have it here.

Well, I hope you won't owe it again.

When did we owe it?

Well, this week you wanted to owe it.

I told you, we have it here.

I only believe that when I see it.

The landlord is always unhappy with me.

I annoy her step by step.

Just so our friend can hear how it

is here in Berlin.

How much did we pay him last week?

500 million.

And this week?

500 billion.

Oh, my God.

Now you have to go, Max.

Franz is very happy to see you, but

the visit stresses him.

Of course.

But don't forget, the publishers are waiting.

Wolf and Fischer and the Swedes.

You can choose.

They're all waiting for a novel from you.

You just have to finish the castle and

then we'll build all the bridges.

And please don't be so loud again.

I couldn't sleep last night because of the

noise.

What did you hear?

You coughed.

Even after dark.

You really don't like us.

I like you a little.

You hate me.

Your dissatisfaction with me is a fundamental...

Nothing can get rid of you.

Not even the elimination of myself.

Your anger at Philipp at the news of

my suicide would be limitless.

Watch out.

My notebook is here.

When I'm dead...

Don't say that, Franz.

Dieter will die someday.

When I die, please burn this notebook.

Promise me.

And later, when she was asked about this

notebook, she said, I burned it.

I was so young then, I said.

Young people live in the present.

I didn't think about it, I said.

I just did it because he wanted it,

because he asked me to.

But that wasn't true.

No.

She didn't burn the notebook.

But when Max Brod asked her later, she

was ashamed and said she had burned it.

And she kept it.

And in 1933 the Gestapo came, because Dora

was married to a communist.

And everything, really everything was confiscated.

Dora and her children brought it to England.

But the notebooks, all the files of the.

Gestapo are now in the Bundesarchiv in Berlin.

Nine kilometers of paper.

Nothing is locked.

You heard right, nothing.

Actually, the Gestapo didn't throw away a single

page.

So they're probably somewhere in the last books

of Franz Kafka.

Maybe a fourth novel?

Promise me you'll burn it.

Yes, Franz, I promise.

If I feel better.

As soon as you feel better.

Yes, Franz, that's great.

The first time, every time, something really good.

Sunset, it's Shabbos.

You say the blessing, Franz.

Blessed art thou, O Lord, our God, King

of the world, who sanctified us in in

in in his presence.

Speak to him, please.

And we shall be healed of the curse

of the Holy Sabbath.

Ruhe!

Ah, no.

She takes care of everything.

When I think about her...

Yes?

How can I put it?

That illness brought her what she could never

gain otherwise.

A woman who is there for him, wholeheartedly,

and full of love, and yet doesn't ask

for anything he doesn't want to give.

Because he's sick.

Do you mean the illness has advantages?

It would have advantages.

Being sick would always have advantages, if you

weren't sick.

Otto wrote to me.

Franz and Dora are leaving Berlin.

God, why?

It's no longer possible.

He's too sick.

Without the illness, it could be so pleasant

to be sick.

It's the same for me.

Everything is nice to be blind.

Being blind would be great, if you could

see better.

There's a sanatorium in Vienna, in Kierling.

It specializes in lung diseases.

There should be one in Davos, too.

He can hardly afford Kierling.

It's only possible because the insurance has a

very opposite regulation.

That's what I mean.

Excuse me?

An opposite regulation.

And he doesn't have to go to work.

As he always wished.

As he would have wished, I mean.

If he didn't have to get sick for

it.

I'm sure I'll have to pay for it.

Sanatorium.

But he has to go.

Otherwise...

He has to.

To his family.

To Prague.

He's at his...

He's at Dora's.

Yes, at Dora's.

Prague or Kierling.

Of course it's hard.

But actually...

Actually Dora has to decide.

Who else?

Who else?

Dora has to decide.

Good afternoon,

Kafka.

Don't move.

Don't move.

This is Prof. Neumann, the best lung doctor

in Vienna.

Ms. Diamant called Max.

Max called me.

I called Mr. Neumann.

We took a cab.

I'll take care of the cab.

Mr. Werfel says you're the greatest German poet.

And since I consider Mr. Werfel a great

poet, if he thinks so, he's right.

Please be quiet.

Open your mouth.

And say aah.

You're in a lot of pain.

Try not to talk.

Nod or shake your head.

If you have to say something, write it

down.

I'll give you a shot of alcohol.

That should help.

I won't be long.

I'll wait outside.

The diagnosis is clear.

I'm not a relative.

Please call me Ms. Diamant.

Thank you.

The diagnosis is clear.

The tuberculosis has attacked the cerebellum.

The cerebellum is almost destroyed.

I gave an injection to the nervous larynx.

But there's nothing more I can do.

An operation is out of the question.

What can you do?

Nothing.

The lungs and the cerebellum are in a

state where morphine is the only way to

relieve the pain.

What does that mean?

He won't be long.

Weeks or...

Days.

As far as the taxi is concerned, we'll

take the...

No hurry.

You have more important things to do.

Goodbye.

He's going to sleep for a while.

Thank you.

Your understanding of Schopenhauer is just wrong, Mr.

Brunner.

I don't think so, Mr. Kafka.

I studied Schopenhauer very closely.

But his will always precedes his appearance.

Logically.

Not in a temporary sense.

What's that supposed to mean?

Everything is temporary in life.

Yes, yes, yes.

Yes, yes, yes.

Yes, yes, yes.

How nice that we met.

Yes.

How nice.

I think we'll talk a lot more.

Come on, Max.

Just write it down, Mrs. Pollack, please.

No.

No.

Yes, yes.

We'll be friends.

What's

that?

Your diaries?

These are all your diaries?

Yes.

I should...

Frank, I should

take your diaries?

Yes.

And then?

What am I supposed to do with them?

What am I supposed to do with them?

I don't understand.

What am I supposed to do with your

diaries?

Whatever you want.

Come on, Frank.

We want to cuddle.

Yes, Milena.

Or cuddle with all your translators.

Right now.

If you keep going straight and then turn

left at the LW fork, there's an excursion

restaurant that has the best liver soup.

Are you going there with all your translators?

Right now.

It stays that way, says the castle.

He has no right to live here.

He will never be allowed to enter the

castle.

But, says the castle, because of certain circumstances,

he may stay.

He is to live and work here from

now on.

The insurance employee and author Dr. Franz Kafka

dies on June 3, 1924 in Kierling near

Vienna.

A painful, severe death.

He still asks his doctor to kill him

with a morphine syringe.

When the doctor refuses, he says, if you

don't do that, you are my murderer.

No matter how you start, it will stop.

To be continued...