All language subtitles for The.Serpents.Egg.1977.1080p.BluRay.x265

'The scene is Berlin,

'the evening
of Saturday, November 3rd, 1923.

'A pack of cigarettes
costs four billion marks,

'and most everyone has lost faith
in both the future and the present.'

Mr Abel?

Your brother is already at home.

- This is for both of you.
- Thank you, frau hemse.

Thank you.

Om

You can sit down.

So, you don't speak German at all?

Damned nuisance. Sofie/be.

Fraulein dorst has her Sunday ruined.

- What's your name?
- Abel Rosenberg.

I'm 35. I was born in Philadelphia.

My folk come from Riga, in Latvia.

My brother Max and his wife manuela,

the three of us came to Berlin
a month ago.

No, at the end of September.

Max hurt his wrist,
so we couldn't perform any more.

We were circus artists.
We had a trapeze act.

The reason of your brother's suicide?

Depression? Unhappy love affair?

Alcoholism? Drugs?

Nervous breakdown?
Fed up with life generally, huh?

- I don't know.
- An unexplainable impulse. Was that it?

It happens.
Did you get in touch with his wife?

No. I tried to last night and this morning,
but I can't find her.

- You didn't live together, all of you?
- No.

Max and manuela got divorced
two years ago.

After the circus let us go,
manuela went to work in a cabaret.

I will go see her there this afternoon.
They open at three on sundays.

- May I see your papers, please?
- Oh, yes.

- You're Jewish?
- Why?

Nothing. I was just curious.

You may now go. Thank you.

What are your plans?

Erm...

How long will you stay in Berlin?

As you know,
there is great unemployment.

We are not going to take care of you
when your money runs out.

- Yes, I know.
- Goodbye, mr Rosenberg.

Goodbye, inspector.
Goodbye, fraulein dorst.

Abel! Abel!

Are you going to have lunch?
So am I. It's on me. Come.

How are things, my dear Abel?
And how are Max and manuela?

Do you think his wrist
will be better soon?

We all miss you, you know.
The circus needs you.

You're wondering why I'm here
when the circus is in Amsterdam?

I'm looking for new acts, my boy.
Come in.

Nowadays, I could get
any damned star I want.

They all know I pay in dollars.

We are playing to full houses
all the time.

I could have twice as big a tent
and it would still be full.

Look what I read in the paper
this morning. I'll try to translate it.

Listen to this.

"Terrible times are at hand

"when circumcised
anti-Christian asiatics on all sides

"are lifting their gory hands
to strangle us."

"The massacre of christians by the Jew
isaskar zederblum, alias mr Lenin,

"was enough to make
a genghis Khan blush.

"A Jewish terrorist pack,
trained to murder and assault,

"is prowling through the country,

"butchering honest citizens and farmers
on portable gallows.

"Will you wait until you see
thousands of people

"hanging from lampposts
in your town?

"Do you want to wait until the bolshevik
commission starts its murderous work

"in your town just as in Russia?

"Do you want to stumble over
the bodies of your women and children?

"Existence today is nothing but dread."

Do you need money?
I can lend you some.

Look. There are some billions.
Take them. I don't need them.

- Why don't you say something, Abel?
- I don't believe in this political crap.

The Jews are as stupid as everybody.

If a Jew gets into trouble,
it's his own fault.

He gets into trouble
because he acts stupid.

I'm not gonna act stupid,
so I'm not gonna get into trouble.

Now you know, papa hollinger.

Thanks for the soup. And the money.

I have to meet manuela at four.

Take care.

- Guten tag.
- Hello, Abel.

Abel!

Abel!

What's wrong?

When I got home last night,
Max had blown his brains out.

I knew he'd do that.

I... tried to keep an eye on him.

I didn't really think he would.

He had a sort ofjob
these last few weeks.

- Do you know what that was?
- No.

I would ask him sometimes.

He just said the money was good,

and told me to mind my own business.

There's a letter for you.

Oh... his handwriting
is impossible to read.

I can't. Can you?

I can't make out...

Wait.

Something...

"There's... poisoning going on."

There's poisoning going on?

- I didn't... see much of him these weeks.
- You lived in the same room.

Uh... we had a fight.

A fist fight...

Over a whore.

I didn't hit him hard.
I... was worried about his bad wrist.

Christ!

Finale! I'm not ready.
Please help me.

- I didn't know you performed.
- Neither did I.

One of the girls got influenza and I said,
"why can't I take her number?"

Oh, take care of Max's money.
There's nowhere to hide it here.

It's funny, seeing everything
from the side like this.

I seem to recognise you.

Did we smoke
our first cigarette together?

But if I say amalfi, a summer day,
26 years ago?

Our parents had cottages
next door to each other.

You had an elder sister called...
Let me see... Rebecca.

- Well?
- Mind letting me by? I'm in a hurry.

Why, of course, Abel Rosenberg.

So... get off the chair and...

Get your wet jacket off.

And I'll make you some real tea,
nice and hot.

That'll do you good.

It's only the man
that changes the toilet cans.

Comes every Monday morning
around four.

Oh, god.

We used to spend the summers
at amalfi.

When mama had trouble with her lungs.

Max and I used to play with a boy
named hans vergerus.

His folks came from diisseldorf.

The father was some kind of big shot.

Er...
A supreme courtjustice or something.

Mama didn't like hans.

I guess no one did.

But everyone thought
he was some kind of genius.

Once, we caught a cat
and tied it down.

Hans cut it open. It was still alive.

He let me see how its heart beat.

Fast, fast.

I ran across him again
ten years ago in Heidelberg,

when we were there with the circus.

I remember that.

- I saw him again today.
- Hans?

Didn't you see him?

- He was at the cabaret.
- No.

Manuela?

Manuela?

Oh. It's morning.

The advantage
of knowing influential people

is that you can have
real coffee for breakfast.

The fire is going nicely.

But it will take a while
before it gets really hot.

Do you get firewood the same way?

I do know a wood-keeper,
as a matter of fact.

I don't know anyone
who can get me butter,

so you'll have to eat marmalade.

It's made of chemicals, the label says.

Oh, I owe you a dollar.

- I have to keep track.
- Never mind.

Well, you should keep this money
before I spend it all on booze.

- Do you drink so much?
- Whenever I have the money.

- You're not going back to the circus?
- What good is it without Max?

- We'll get a new partner, of course.
- You know that's impossible.

I know nothing of the kind.

Anyway, make a new number together,
just you and I.

Abel, we could make a magical act.

I know a marvellous magician.
Markus. He's just retired.

We could take over his show.

I don't know.

Since this business with Max, I just...

Ever since I met Max,
you have been my big brother.

We're going to stick together now.

I wake up from a nightmare and find
that real life is worse than the dream.

Abel, everything is all right.

- We have everything we need.
- I just can't figure it out.

They were beating a man
and the police turned their back.

Abel, listen to me. You're awfully tired.

You've been drinking
much too much lately.

I'm going to look after you. In a few days
everything will be much better.

We'll talk things over.
Now! Must hurry. I have to go to work.

Work?

- Yeah, I have two jobs.
- This time of the morning?

Yeah, this time of the morning.
I can't be late.

- What sort ofjob?
- I don't know exactly.

- It's secret, anyway.
- Secret?

No, I was joking.
It's an office. I stick stamps...

What kind of office?

It's import and export.
I'm not really sure.

What's the name of the company?

What the hell is name
of the company?

Ferkel. Ferkel und sohn.

Where is this office?

In bayerstrasse.

Stop nagging me.
You sound like a jealous husband.

I'll be home around two,
and we'll have dinner together.

Try and get hold of some meat
while we still have the money.

- Twenty-two bucks.
- We're rich.

- Herr Rosenberg?
- Yes.

Would you mind coming in here
for a moment?

My name is frau holle.
I am manuela's landlady.

Manuela just had time to tell me
about you on her way out.

You are welcome to stay here with me
for a short time.

Oh, just... these sudden changes
in weather make my back ache.

So I must stay in bed all the day.

Still, it's nice with a peep of sun
in November, isn't it, herr Rosenberg?

Would you care for a glass of Sherry?

I am very attached to manuela.

If you forgive my saying so,

I am as fond of her
as if she were my own daughter.

Pros/I herr Rosenberg.

She's so kind and naive.

It's as if all the terrible things going on
around us didn't concern her.

I think your sister-in-law is heading
for trouble, herr Rosenberg.

The odd thing about manuela
is that she doesn't defend herself.

Nothing must happen to her.

Take this new job, now,
there's something odd about it.

The society for church democracy.
What is that, herr Rosenberg?

- It isn't even in the phone book.
- I must go now, frau holle.

How much is the rent?
Should I pay in advance?

It doesn't matter.
But if you have money, I don't mind.

You have dollars, haven't you?

Shall we say three dollars a month,
or is that too much?

No, of course not.

- Huh?
- Have you been crying?

No. Why?

It just seemed so.
Forgive me, herr Rosenberg.

- Goodbye, frau holle.
- Bye, herr Rosenberg.

We've been waiting for you.

May I ask you
where you've been all night?

- I couldn't very well sleep in that room.
- Where have you been?

- With my sister-in-law.
- She lives 35 bergmanstrasse?

- Yes, I think so.
- Think?

- I think it's number 35.
- Well, now you know.

- May I pack some things?
- Not yet, Rosenberg.

I must ask you to come with us
to the morgue. To identify someone.

- Do I have to?
- I'm afraid I must insist.

Well, then, we'd better get going.

I'd advise you to smoke down there.
It helps.

- Do you recognise that girl?
- Yes.

- Who is she?
- Gretha hofer.

- How do you happen to know her?
- She was engaged to my brother.

- When did you see her last?
- Uh... a week ago.

- Was your brother on good terms...
- Yes. I think so.

Fraulein hofer's been assaulted.
Cause of death: Drowning.

Do you recognise this man?

- No.
- Are you quite sure?

- No.
- Think hard, Rosenberg. It's important.

- He's like someone.
- Who?

- He's like my father.
- You can do better than that.

That's all. He's like my father.

My father died five years ago.

Someone stuck a hypodermic needle
into this man's heart.

A liquid of some sort was injected
into the left ventricle.

A poison that must have caused him
hideous pain before he died,

which probably took several hours.

So you haven't seen this man before?

Have you seen this woman before?

Yes.

- Who is she?
- I don't know.

- But I've seen her.
- Where?

I think she delivered papers.

I used to meet her
at frau hemse's boarding house.

Once, she helped me up the stairs
when I was too drunk to make it on my own.

- Her name is Maria stern.
- I didn't know her name.

She hanged herself
in the basement room

where she lived
with her husband and two children.

But she left a very strange letter.
Totally muddled.

She said she had been frightened to death
and that the pain was unbearable.

I... I don't think I can take this.

Come along.

Come on!

Have you ever seen this boy?

- No.
- He worked at the cabaret.

- You never saw him there?
- No.

He used to stand near the entrance,
working the spotlight.

- You must have seen him!
- Yes, it's possible.

We are not certain how he was killed.

He seems to have been
run over by a truck,

but something tells us
he'd been assaulted or tortured first.

Why do you want me to see all this?

During the last month,
seven mysterious deaths have occurred

in your vicinity, herr Rosenberg.

- You don't suspect me?
- I think we need a cup of coffee.

Oh! This can't be called coffee,
but it's something.

Not very chatty, are you, Rosenberg?

Can you account for the movements

on the evening
of Sunday October 28th?

- You can't?
- I was drunk.

Ask me about October 19th?
I was drunk then too.

I've been drunk every night
since I left the circus.

- Something doesn't add up.
- No?

If you were so well known,
good income, good reputation,

why did you start drinking?

- I'm an alcoholic.
- Famous trapeze artist... alcoholic?

Maybe I didn't feel welcome
in your beautiful city.

Sofie/be!

- Why do I have to stay here?
- To help me with seven unsolved deaths.

Tomorrow,
everything's gonna disappear.

- Why bother with a few murders?
- I'll tell you, Rosenberg.

I bother for my own sake.

I know that the catastrophe
could be here in a few hours.

They say the rate of exchange
for the dollar is five billion marks.

The French have occupied the ruhr.

We have just paid
a billion in gold to the British.

On every damned job
there are bolshevik agitators.

In Munich,
a herr Hitler's preparing a putsch

with thousands of starving soldiers
and madmen in uniform.

We have a government that
doesn't know which way to turn.

Everyone's afraid. So am I.

I can't sleep for fear.

Nothing works properly except fear.

On Friday, I wanted to go to stettin
to see my old mother, she'll be 80.

But there was no timetable any more.

There was a train that might go,
but no timetable, herr Rosenberg.

Imagine a Germany
without timetables, huh?

So what does inspector Bauer do?

Inspector Bauer does his job.

He tries to create a little patch
of order and reason

in the midst of chaos.

And he's not alone, Rosenberg.

All over Germany,
millions and millions of petty officials,

just as terrified,
are doing exactly the same.

You get drunk every day, huh?

That's also respectable, Rosenberg.

But I'd be happier if you swung
about on your trapeze with your pals.

That way, you'd fight your fear
more effectively.

So now you know why I sit here,

investigating something
I think is extremely odd.

Not to say horrible.

And now I must ask you
to keep quiet for a few minutes,

while I write a few lines
to inspector lohmann

who is working on another case
that also seems insane.

Sit down, Rosenberg.

What do you suspect me of?

Aren't I entitled to a lawyer?

This is a chat, not interrogation.

You're taking it out on me.

I need a cigarette.

I know why you're doing this.

It's because I'm a Jew.

Huh?

I am here because I speak English.
You are allowed to smoke.

You have ten minutes.

I spoke with inspector Bauer.

He was very kind and understanding.

He wants to help you.

He said you went crazy.

- What's wrong, manuela?
- I'm just worried.

My savings are stolen.

- You don't know where they are gone?
- I didn't know you had any savings.

- They're gone, anyway.
- Luckily I'm in charge of Max's money.

That's just it.

Inspector Bauer told me they found Max's
money on you when they searched you.

He asked me if! Knew
where Max had gotten hold of his money.

I said it was our savings.

That we were in Switzerland
with the circus

and that several of the artists
changed their money into dollars

before they went on tour to Germany.

Who do you think stole your money?

Manuela?

What did you say?

Manuela?

Yes?

You're not listening. You're sick.

- What's wrong?
- She's sick.

I'm all right.

I haven't eaten today.

I'd like to point out that
you have only a few minutes left.

- Manuela?
- Yes, herr Rosenberg?

I am going to let you go,
herr Rosenberg.

In spite of the way you attacked me
and my colleagues.

My god, the way you swung at us.

But then, you are a circus artist, huh?

- What are you looking at?
- I'm not looking, I'm wondering.

I'm wondering whether I ought to tell you
what I'm wondering about.

But I think not.

Fraulein dorst will show you
where you can collect your belongings.

We'll keep your brother's dollar bills
for the time being.

We'll give you a receipt, of course.

- What are you doing here?
- I dropped in to see manuela.

- I just heard about your brother's death.
- You can go to hell.

What?

- You got any cigarettes?
- There are some cigarettes on the shelf.

Who is it?

- Manuela.
- Come in a moment, manuela.

I'm awfully tired. Could we talk tomorrow
when I come home for dinner?

I wish to speak to you now!

I can't sleep because of the pain.

Besides, I am worried.

Is it something to do with me?

You wouldn't have asked that before,
manuela.

I'm dead tired.

I think I have a cold. I want to go to bed.

It's about herr Rosenberg.

I won't have him staying here
in my house!

- Why?
- He seems unreliable and arrogant.

The authorities don't approve of my letting
unmarried couples share a room.

I have changed my mind!
Herr Rosenberg must move tomorrow!

- But he's paid his rent.
- I have the money.

I have changed it into marks.

It's illegal to have dollars.
You ought to know that, manuela.

If herr Rosenberg is leaving,
I'm leaving as well.

- You must do as you like!
- I think you're rotten!

I think you are a witch!

Manuela!

Manuela!

We'll get by, you'll see.

As long as we stick together.

Have you slept with hans vergerus?

- Yes, I have.
- Often?

- Don't be silly.
- I want to know.

Three times, maybe four.
I don't know.

- Does he pay you?
- No.

Yes. Once.

- Why did he pay you only once?
- Well, I don't know.

- Why don't you know?
- I felt sorry for him.

Are you in love with him?

- I don't know.
- You don't know?

I feel sorry for him.

Maybe he needs some kindness.

Where did you go today?

I went to the office. Then I came home
to have dinner with you.

Is it import and export or something
to do with the church or neither? What?

I work at a whorehouse in the morning.

It's not forbidden as far as I know.
It's a very respectable whorehouse.

Only for diplomats and managing editors
and famous actors. It's so classy!

Idiot.

Be nice to me, Abel.

Please be nice to me, Abel.

Please be nice to me!

'Tuesday November 6th.

'The newspapers are black
with fear, threats and rumours.

'The government seems powerless.

'A bloody confrontation between
the extremist parties appears unavoidable.

'Despite all this, people go to work,

'the rain never stops,

'and fear rises like vapour
from the cobblestones.

'It can be sensed like a pungent smell.

'Everyone bears it like a nerve poison,

'a slowly working poison
felt only as a quicker or slower pulse

'or as a spasm of nausea.'

Abel, I'm too late. I've overslept.

I'll be home at two for dinner.

I don't know
why I'm bothering you.

My name is manuela.
My father was a magician.

My mother was a circus rider.
I've been living in circuses all my life.

My husband was a circus artist as well.

Maybe it's wrong of me to trouble you.

But I need to talk to somebody
who understands.

This last week, I've been going
to morning masses. I'm confused.

And then someone told me
that you were an American.

It's very comforting.
My German isn't very good.

My dear woman,
would you come to the point?

- I have to get to another service.
- I see.

Well... maybe you'll come again.

All this guilt is too much for me!

I feel it's my fault
that Max committed suicide.

You're responsible for someone
and you fail your duties,

and you stand there
empty-handed and ashamed,

wondering
what you could have been doing.

Now I feel I have to take care
of Max's brother Abel as well.

- And that's even worse.
- Worse?

Well, he'sjust like Max.
He never says what he's thinking.

He just charges ahead with all his feeling
and he looks so frightened,

and I try to tell him
that we'll help each other,

but that's only words for him.

And everything I say is useless.
The only real thing is fear.

And I'm sick.
I don't know what's wrong.

- Is there any forgiveness?
- Would you like me to pray for you?

- You think that would help?
- I don't know.

- Now?
- Yes, now.

- Is it a special prayer?
- Yes, yes. Let me think.

We... we live so far away from god,

so far away that he probably doesn't
hear us when we pray for help.

So... we must help each other.

Give each other the forgiveness
that a remote god denies us.

I... sayto you...

That you are forgiven
for your husband's death.

You're no longer to blame.

I beg your forgiveness...

For my apathy, my indifference.

Do you forgive me?

Yes, I forgive you.

That's all we can do.

I must hurry. The parish priest
becomes annoyed if I'm late.

Oh... young woman,
I have to close up, please.

What the hell does this mean?

It's the place where we're going to live,
you and I. It's nice, isn't it?

Yesterday, when you came to the cabaret,
I'd been telling hans about our trouble.

He suggested that
we could move into this flat

that he or rather st Anna's clinic
has the use of.

It just became vacant.

Please say it's nice.

We don't have to pay any rent
for the time being.

He also said that you could work
in the clinic's archives.

We could stay here
and decide what we wanted to do.

I'll be damned if I'll live here!

Or accept charity
from that goddamned hans vergerus!

Maybe it's better...
If we work things out alone.

I probably won't see you for a while.

It's best not to mix things up.

There is no point
in continuing here in Berlin.

Look around you, mr Rosenberg.

Sixteen people, and what a programme!

May I offer you anything to drink?
A cognac? A cognac for mr Rosenberg.

What do you think, mr Rosenberg?

A cabaret and a brothel.
In Beirut, for example.

A totally different climate.
A totally different ambience.

We will close earlier tonight
and shorten the programme.

- It's useless staying open.
- Bitte schén.

I've never seen anything like this rain.
Maybe it's the flood.

Cheers, mr Rosenberg.

- How do you like my English accent?
- Marvellous.

I lived for some years
with a woman fakir from New Jersey.

She taught me all the English I know.

I've been expecting this.

Can't you sleep?

I have to be drunk
to go to sleep.

I've half a bottle of gin
in a small suitcase out in the kitchen.

You know, actually it's quite nice
to have a fever.

You can daydream.

You fall asleep and then you wake up.
Everything's mixed up.

Suddenly you're six years old,
and then I'm 15. It's all so clear.

- That damn engine. It's started up again.
- What engine?

- Don't you hear it?
- I can hear something rumbling.

Yes, it's an engine.

That bathrobe you're wearing,
it belonged to papa. It's quite touching.

I can remember sitting in the sunshine,
watching papa practising a new number.

It didn't work very good.

Mama came out of the wagon
and said, "you're not doing it right."

Then she showed him how to do it.

He just stood and looked embarrassed
with a sheepish smile on his face.

Know what's the worst thing?
People have no future.

People have lost the future.

I'm getting drunk... finally.

May I introduce myself?

I am dr soltermann
and this is my colleague dr silbermann.

We are, as you might have guessed,
in charge of st Anna clinic's archives.

The largest hospital archives in Europe
and one of the largest in the world.

We have floor space of several thousand
square metres, herr Rosenberg,

and our card index includes
over 100,000 entries.

But then the st Anna clinic
has been in existence for 357 years.

In various guises, of course.

- May I show you to your place?
- Yes, thank you.

Dr silbermann and I are very grateful
to have an assistant at last.

We have been complaining to our chief,
professor vergerus, for years to no avail.

- So you must know you're very welcome.
- You are very welcome, herr Rosenberg.

Don't you think dr soltermann
speaks very good English?

Dr silbermann is far too kind. I spent
seven years in england before the war.

My doctor's thesis dealt with erotic
perversions in the writings of Ben jonson.

An interesting but limited subject.
We go here, please.

May I ask if you have had
any previous experience in archive work?

- No. Unfortunately...
- I was afraid so, but never mind.

Today, I can give you a task that calls
for very little archive experience.

I'm very grateful.

How do I find my way out?

At dinner time, either
dr silbermann or I will come for you.

You can rely on us. We won't forget you.

By the way, one thing I almost forgot.

All our material is strictly confidential.
It mustn't be taken out of here.

You mustn't read
or try to decipher the documents

that pass through your hands.

All the files are full of reports
of inconceivable human suffering,

of the battles of science,
its victories and defeats.

This will be your place, herr Rosenberg.

We begin work each morning
at eight o'clock and finish at six.

We have dinner at 1:30. We take turns
to fetch it from the kitchen of the clinic.

We are also entitled to take home
our supper in a special container.

These days, that's a priceless emolument.
Good morning, herr Rosenberg.

Excuse me for asking.
What am I supposed to do?

- You see these grey files here...?
- They are yellow files of a cheaper kind.

Your first task will be to remove
the contents of the grey files.

And transfer them to the yellow files,

after which, you will number and letter
them in the same way as the grey ones.

- Good luck, herr Rosenberg.
- Thank you.

- How's it going?
- It's hard work.

- You're not well.
- No.

Did you have something to eat today?

We have dinner
in the hospital staff dining room.

- When do you knock off?
- I think I get away at seven.

I can take supper from the kitchen.
It's part of the salary.

How are you getting on in the archives?

Fine.

I don't think I ought to stand here
any longer. They're terribly strict.

- Manuela?
- Yeah?

You suddenly look so thin and pale.

I'm all right, Abel.
It could've been worse. I must hurry.

- Couldn't you just say you're sick?
- I don't dare.

- You were nearly run over.
- Thanks.

- How do you like it here with us?
- I've only just started.

- And manuela?
- Ask her yourself.

- Let's meet one evening, the three of us.
- I'm in a hurry.

Dr soltermann went home after dinner.
He's in poor health.

I'm usually alone
here in the archives nowadays.

With dr soltermann away, I can say it.

Something terrible is going on.

- What?
- Here. At the clinic.

- Do you know what these are?
- I don't understand German.

They are reports.

- Detailed reports. Marked secret.
- So?

Reports concerning certain experiments
undertaken at the clinic

under the supervision
of professor vergerus.

I don't get it.

Can you guess what kind of experiments,
herr Rosenberg?

How could I?

Very strange experiments.

Strange?

Experiments with human beings,
herr Rosenberg.

- The engine is driving me wild.
- I didn't notice it.

- But you do hear it, don't you?
- Yes, when you mention it.

- It's a trap.
- What is?

Don't be an idiot. We're locked in.

Don't get hysterical, Abel.

My head is splitting!

- You sure this gas isn't leaking?
- It isn't.

- How can you be sure?
- Because I've tried it.

Then you did think it was leaking,
didn't you?

Stop raving at me like a lunatic.

If you want to leave, go!

So you want me to get out?

I just say if you want to leave,
you can go.

I've done everything I can
to keep us together.

I just can't go on any more.

Do you hear what I'm saying?
I can't go on anymore!

I give a damn about your fear!

I give a damn about you!

Then you want me to leave?

Abel. Abel.

Abel. Abel.

- Oh.
- I can't.

- Just stay close.
- No, I can't.

Lie still.

I can't stay like this.

A little while, Abel?

- Go away.
- Come home with me.

It's warm.

You can have it any way you want.

- You have dollars, don't you?
- Go to hell!

Where do you think we are?

Come on. Come on.

You're sucking me!
You're trying to kill me, drain me!

You're trying to... trying to suck me!

Stella says I can't fuck. The bitch
is jivin' the whole goddamn world!

She's got fangs in her cunt, man!
Fangs! In her cunt!

I saw them! I did! I saw them!

Mike, tell her that you and I have
screwed seven times

in at least seven different ways.

Mikaela, you know Monroe,

and you know damned well
he can only fuck faggots!

If you say he even half-screwed you,
you are lying.

Do you remember that time, Stella,

you had to go to hospital
because you thought you had syphilis?

- I didn't have syphilis!
- You thought you did.

Who was that sweet man
who laid up next to you every night?

Strokin' you, makin' you feel fine, huh?
At the risk of catching it.

- I didn't have syphilis.
- You thought you did.

You looked lousy. You are lousy.

You used to be so beautiful.
She used to be so beautiful.

But now you are the worst bitch
on steinstrasse and everybody says so!

You, I could screw any time. Any time.

It's just that... that...

That big-mouthed bitch
that makes me nervous!

I could screw you!

I could screw you any amount of time.
You see, I'm not a queer!

That's a lie Stella tells everybody
because I won't get in between her legs.

A man could die in there.

- But you I could screw any time!
- Here?

- What do you mean, here?
- You say you could screw her any time.

- Could you do it now?
- You like that!

Sure! Sure I could! Sure!

If you think you're gonna watch
for nothing, you're crazy.

Come on, Monroe.
Let's show him what you're made of.

- I'm going to bet on this.
- How about it?

- You'll be a rich man, Monroe. Huh?
- Let's go, Monroe, before I'm done

you can have all the money from that guy
who won't tell us his name.

Wait...

Wait, wait, wait, wait.

Wait. Wait.

Ahh!

Quiet, now. No fair laughing.
I'll help him.

Main! Main!
He has to do it himself.

All right.

Say it. Say it. Say it.

- It doesn't work.
- Say it. Say it.

- He can't!
- Say it. Say, "do it, daddy."

Say... say... say...

Say, "do it, daddy."

Monroe, don't cry. Don't cry, Monroe.

- Don't cry.
- We won! We won!

Stop laughing. Stop laughing.

'On the morning
of Wednesday November 7th,

'there is no milk to be had in Berlin.

'Many food shops remain closed.
They have nothing to sell.

'The reichsmark has practically
ceased to exist.

'The wads of bills are now
counted by weight,

'and no more notice
is taken of the printed value.'

Manuela?

Manuela?

Manuela?

Manuela!

Manuela!

Aargh!

Aargh!

When you began your employment,
I said working hours are from eight to six.

Could you be so kind
as to show me to my workplace?

- I can't find my way.
- Of course.

Are there other people
here in the archives?

Of course. Every day we are visited
by scientists from other institutions.

Give me the keys.

- Give me the keys.
- You behave improperly to an old man.

It's also absurd and humiliating.

Surely you realise
I won't tell you anything,

no matter how rough you are.

Nothing!

Unlike you, I have a conviction.

Something unheard of
is happening down there in Munich.

A saviour is born. The delivery
is taking place in pain and blood.

A terrible time is at hand. But what are
30 or 40 years of suffering and death?

What do you or I matter,
or even millions of lives?

There are plenty of human beings,
herr Rosenberg.

Kill me. I won't resist.

My body is weak,
but my soul is strong and calm.

Aargh!

I think it's better I lock the door
so that no one will disturb us.

Dr soltermann warned me against you,
but I didn't believe him.

You say nothing.

Look at the screen and
you will see some interesting pictures.

They were taken during our experiments
here at the st Anna clinic.

This is a resistance experiment.

This woman, 30 years old,

volunteered to look after
a four-month-old baby with brain injury,

who screams day and night.

We wanted to see what would happen
to this normal, fairly intelligent woman,

if we shut her in with a child
that never stopped screaming.

As you see, after 12 hours
she is still quite self-possessed.

Now, however, 24 hours have passed.

We can see now that she is affected.

Her sympathy for the sick child
has been wiped out,

her feelings replaced
by deep depression,

which, in its turn,
paralyses every initiative.

She has left the child to its fate.

Here we can see quite clearly

that the thought of ridding herself
of the child has developed.

But it took another six hours
before she carried out her intention.

A remarkable resistance.

Unfortunately our camera didn't manage
to document the actual deed.

Our technique has not been
quite perfected.

You would like to see more,
wouldn't you?

For seven days, this man was shut up
in a cell so constructed

that he could not move
his arms, legs or head.

In addition, he was deprived
of all sound and was in total darkness.

I know what you are going to say, Abel.

You are wondering
how we could get anyone to agree

to such an experiment voluntarily.

No trouble, I assure you.

People will do anything
for a little money and a square meal.

These pictures are not
particularly instructive,

but may be of physiognomic interest.

The subject was given
an injection of thanatoxin,

a drug that produces violent anguish.

What you will see is someone
subjected to unbearable agony.

Here you see him
just as he is given the injection.

You notice that he is quite balanced
and is laughing and joking.

An unusually nice boy, incidentally.

He was a student of political science
at the university.

We are now at the condition of dread,

which is getting worse and worse.

In a few moments, he'll commit suicide.

Watch carefully.
It happens without any warning.

He picks up the revolver. You can't
see it properly. Now you can see it.

Then he puts it in his mouth.

The gun is not loaded, of course.

That student really did shoot himself
a few days later,

although the effects of the thanatoxin
had completely worn off.

Your brother Max...
Met with the same misfortune.

By the way,
he was one of our best assistants.

He was really interested
in our experiments.

He wanted to try out the thanatoxin.

I advised him not to, but he insisted.

His fiancée also helped us quite a bit.

They were very attached to each other

and lived for a time
in one of the apartments

that you yourself...

This is one of our most recent
and interesting experiments.

The subjects are administered
controlled doses of kapta blue,

a virtually odourless gas.

Initially, the gas plays tricks
with the behavioural centres,

throwing the entire emotional balance
out of kilter.

The subjects are stripped
of their social defences,

lose their inhibitions,

teeter madly between quickly
changing moods which possess them.

Their reactions are so farcical at times,
one can hardly keep from laughing.

Of course, repeated exposure
to kapta blue

can cause some permanent damage.

Perhaps you're wondering what
my intentions were with you and manuela,

placing you
in one of our experiment rooms.

Will you believe me
if I tell you I had no intentions at all,

except to help you?

As you saw, the building
behind your rooms had been vacated.

Some time ago, we were forced
to transfer our activities

to a more out-of-the-way place.

We must take great care.

Besides... our economic resources
are limited.

We are financed entirely
by private means.

I'm not a monster, Abel.

What you have seen
are the first faltering steps

of a necessary and logical development.

I know you have told inspector Bauer
of your experiences.

I also know thatjustice,
represented by the plodding inspector,

has begun to move, slow and creaking.

He'll be here soon
with his police and his rusty guns.

But in a few moments,
I'll bite on this cyanide capsule.

I did consider burning the archives
and destroying the results of our work,

but it seemed too melodramatic.

The law will confiscate our results
and then file them.

In a few years, science will ask
for the documents

and will continue our experiments
on a gigantic scale.

We are ahead of our time, Abel.

We are to be sacrificed.

It's only logical.

In a day or two, maybe even tomorrow,

the national units in south Germany
will attempt a revolt,

led by an incredible scatterbrain
called Adolf Hitler.

It will be a colossal fiasco.

Herr Hitler lacks
intellectual capacity and method.

He doesn't realise what tremendous
forces he is about to conjure up.

He will be swept away like a withered leaf
the day the storm breaks.

Abel...

Look at that picture.

Look at all those people.

They are incapable of a revolution.

They are far too humiliated,
too afraid, too downtrodden.

But in ten years...

._bythen,
the 10-year-olds will be 20,

the 15-year-olds will be 25.

To the hatred
inherited from their parents,

they will add their own idealism
and impatience.

Someone will step fonnard and put
their unspoken feelings into words.

Someone will promise a future.
Someone will make demands.

Someone will talk
of greatness and sacrifice.

The young and inexperienced
will give their courage and faith

to the tired and the uncertain.

And then there will be a revolution.

And our world will go down
in blood and fire.

In ten years, no more...

Those people will create a new society,
unequalled in world history.

The old society was based on extremely
romantic ideas of man's goodness.

It was all very complicated
since the ideas didn't match the reality.

The new society will be based
on a realistic assessment

of man's potentials and limitations.

Man is a malformation,
a perversity of nature.

That is where our experiments come in.

We deal with the basic construction
and we shape it.

We set the productive forces free
and control the destructive ones.

We exterminate what is inferior
and increase what is useful.

I always liked you and manuela.

She showed an affection for me
which I hope was sincerely meant.

Against my betterjudgement,
I tried to help you.

Comic, isn't it, Abel?

One day you can tell all this
to anyone who is willing to listen.

No one will believe you...

Despite the fact that anyone
who makes the slightest effort

can see what is waiting in the future.

It's like a serpent's egg.

Through the thin membranes,

you can clearly discern
the already perfect reptile.

You were given veronal.
You've slept for two days.

- What day is it?
- It's the morning of November 11th.

- Can I have some water?
- Yeah.

I've been in touch with hollinger.

He thinks he can use you in his circus.

The German state will pay
for a train ticket to Basel.

That's where the circus will be
for the next two weeks.

I take it for granted that
you will accept his kind offer, huh?

I think so.

It would be the simplest way,
herr Rosenberg.

A constable will go
to the station with you.

The night train is supposed
to leave at 11:20.

- Thank you.
- Goodbye, herr Rosenberg.

By the way... herr Hitler failed
with his Munich putsch.

The whole thing was a colossal fiasco.

Herr Hitler and his gang underrated
the strength of the German democracy.

Goodbye, herr Rosenberg.

'On the evening
of Sunday November 11th,

'Abel Rosenberg
escaped the police escort

'which was taking him
to the railroad station.

'He was never seen again.'