All language subtitles for Max.2002.720p.WEB-DL.H264-ViGi .PublicHD

George! So glad you like it.

Rothman?

Who is this Rothman?

Max Rothman.

Isn't his father in...

in shoes?

Think so.

Shoes or frocks...

Shoes, frocks or stocks.

The Duke of Westminster used to
own a spaniel called "Jew, "

except when his Rothschild
banker came over,

then they called him "Joe. "

Ooooh, champagne!

Max!

Why are you wasting this divine
tipple on these swine?

Insecurity, I suppose.

Yeah, well, insecurity
is the mother of an overdraft.

Hello!

Oooh. George Grosz.

I hear the sound of new money.

I'm for sale.

I might pay for this evening yet.

Come!

Take care of Grosz for me,
will you, okay?

George.

George!

A moment.

Mr. Epp.

Oh...

Mrs. Epp.

I think Max would like a quick word
with you.

George, do you want a drink?

Hello, hello.

So nice to see you.

Hello. I have a Monet downstairs.

Monet? Why?

Well, I thought this might be
a tad too modern for you.

Are you questioning my modernity?

God, no, no.

I hate all those water lilies.

It always reminds me
of a gardening catalogue.

Still, maybe you'd like to see it?
Are you sure? I'll go down and get it.

I'll take the Ernst!

And who is this funny fellow
who looks like a butcher?

Grosz, George Grosz.

I'll take two of him.

Excellent.

Didn't know you had a Monet.

I don't.

How are you?

Don't spiel me.

Where's your wife?

Waiting for her entrance,
I suppose.

And where's that leave me?

Talented, with options.

I'm tired of options.

You're too young to be tired
of options.

I'd really love to see you again.

Tell me, Max...
where's the future in it?

The future?

No...

I've seen the future.

Believe me, it came straight at us.
There's no future in the future.

So you might as well...

Nina... Mon amour.

Nice to see you.

Hello, darling.

How'd it go?

Hmmm, I fell out of every turn, but
they seemed to like it.

Well, that's what matters.
That's what counts.

It's going well?

Who knows...

Do you know what you look like?

Like your wife, I hope.

No.

Like a woman defying gravity.

That's what we do, us ladies.

I left my cigarettes at the theatre.

Poppi...

The champagne...

Poppi...

There's one more case on the
sidewalk,

and these are on loan.

I'll pay you back with interest.

The 16th?

Yeah, the list...

And you?

9th...

Hussars.

Yeah, cavalry.

Where do you want it?

Thank you.

Inside the door.

Thank you, Corporal.

Is this your building?

Is this some sort of club?

I sell art.

In here?

Uh-huh.

Is that a portfolio?

Yeah...

Fork it over, Corporal,
let's take a look.

What's your market, then?

Mostly modern stuff.

Oh, modern.

Like, uh, next time I have diarrhoea,

I'll take a shit on a canvas

and bring it 'round to you, huh?

You could do worse.

I certainly wouldn't reject it out of
hand,

I'm open to everything.

Would you like a cigarette?

They give you cancer of the lung.

Are you a doctor?

Hullo, darling.

Ah, Liselore von Peltz, this is
Corporal...

Hitler...

Adolf Hitler

Hello.

Thank you for coming.

Is she your wife?

My wife's inside.

You're a funny one.

Come in...

Have a glass of champagne.

I don't drink.

That's original.

Yes, well...

best be on my way.

Thanks again for...

the, ah, hand.

The 16th?

We were together at Ypres.

Yes, we were.

Perhaps only a few kilometres apart.

I did some modern stuff...

in the trenches.

That I would very much like to see.

You know where to find me.

Max Rothman.

Das eisern werk.

How do you like your fish, Daddy?

Mmmm... Lovely.

That was delicious.

Are you finished?
You've hardly touched it.

I don't know how you stay so thin?

She has a parasite.

I don't, thank God.

Yes, yes, but tell her about
that girl in the company.

Oh, Esther...

Swallowed a tapeworm.

On purpose.

A Jewish girl did this?

Isn't that fabulous?

Why?

To lose weight, Mammi.

I don't think this is dinner-table
conversation.

Yes, but thank God it's lunch and
we're all grown up.

I mean, as a medical man,
don't you find that fascinating?

Hmmm? I mean, here is a girl
who has a certain...

a certain aesthetic standard
which she adheres herself to,

and her commitment...

I don't think this is an appropriate
conversation.

I know, I know, it certainly isn't.

But, but wouldn't the condition be chronic?

I mean if it took, that is, Nin?

Did it?

All right,

let's talk about the weather,
literally.

Have you been outside today?

Isn't it gorgeous?

I think it's what the English call
an Indian summer.

But it's November.

I don't think Max is saying
that it isn't, Dad.

Isn't that what they call
the last days

of October... November...
Indian summer?

No, no, that's autumn;
what they call 'fall. '

I'm going for a stroll.

He hasn't been able to sit still
since he came back.

Balls!

He was already a neuropath
before the war.

Do you know what Ferdi told me
yesterday?

Doctors are mostly judged
by their hands.

Fucking bourgeois prick!

Our commander lost half the battalion

because he had a 'Von' before his name.

Wait, wait. So you're saying
the Russians are right?

I'm just sayin'
maybe we shouldn't be so quick

to judge them,
maybe they're on to something.

Yeah, they're onto something all right...

They never should've killed the tsar.

Really?

Why?

Because the tsar
was such a good guy?

Hey, hey...

What about those kids,
did they deserve a bullet?

And that little boy...

You wanna make stew,
you gotta chop meat.

And what kind of stew is that, Soldier?

Speak up.

Hello, hello.

No, no, no, don't get up.

A little taste for everyone.

Nothing's wrong with that, Soldier.

Nothing at all.

But let's take a closer look
at these stew chefs.

Marx... Jew.

Lenin...

Mongrel Jew.

Trotsky...

Jew from A to Z.

Yeah, so?

Did you ever know a Jew to do
anything for anybody else?

'Cept raise your rent.

What do you think, Corporal?

I don't believe in anti-Semitism.

Not in emotive anti-Semitism, anyway.

What the hell does that mean?

It means I don't believe
that anti-Semitism

should be based on emotions,

which just leads to
pogrom and anarchy,

but rather on the facts.

I'm not sure I quite understand
your point, Corporal.

My point is, Captain,

that the Semitic question

is far too important
to be left to the individual.

It ought to be in the domain
of the government,

like public health or... sewage.

I think you look handsome.

What's the price on this?

I'm not going to bite.

Seven marks for the suit,
two marks for the shirt...

and the tie...

Well, we'll call it an even ten.

What made you put a gallery
in an ironworks?

Well, you know what they used to
make here, don't you?

Locomotives.

Yes... And now they're recovering
the iron and steel

and selling it as scrap.

Beating swords into plough shares?

That wouldn't be a bad lead.

No, no... That's too soft,
that's too pacifistic.

Not subversive enough.

Subversive?

Yes, subversive.

I mean, Jesus God,

what a giant piece of kitsch
theatre this last war was.

It was all fought on rail and yet
the Kaiser went on horse,

surrounded by the princes with
the regiments and the banners

snapping in the breeze
like it was Agincourt.

But it wasn't Agincourt, was it?

- Yeah... but you're an ex-cavalry man.
- So I know exactly of which I speak.

And from now on we must make art
with the same unsentimentality,

the same principles, that we would
the manufacture of bayonets.

Bayonets?

Yes, or maybe washbins.
Maybe washbins would work.

No, no, no...
I think we'll stick with bayonets.

Bayonets is a lot sharper.

Yes, it is. Yes.

Mind if we take a look around?

Be my guest.

Ah, Corporal Hilter.

Hit-ler.

Not living in the barracks anymore?

It's not like there's a lot of
cheap housing

around for vets, is there?

No, I suppose there isn't.

Can I offer you some coffee?

Um, no, never touch it.

No caffeine, no alcohol,
no nicotine, no meat...

You're an ascetic.

Not at all, I'm a man of the people.

I see you've brought your goods.

Don't expect anything abstract.

I'm a great believer in
Schopenhauer's dictum that art

should proclaim, 'Yes, by God,
this is how it really is. '

But life can be quite abstract at times,

wouldn't you agree?

How do you mean?

Well, sometimes "life, " as you say,

won't be captured
by the forms and lines

of traditional representation,
especially not these days.

I disagree completely.

Art should only ever reflect
the eternal values

and the natural laws,
especially these days.

But aren't these eternal values

and natural laws in flux these days?

Aren't they meant to be
shrinking and expanding?

What are you, some kind of
intellectual wet fart, Rothman?

The eternal values are
harmonious proportions,

nobility and dignity, and the continuation
of the cultural evolution...

Where each generation stands upon
the shoulders of the next

and improves the work of the last.

But this is...

ten... no, a hundred steps backwards.

This is the undoing
of the previous generations.

This is filth!

This is blood poisoning!

Are you a friend of Marinetti's?

Is that what this is about?

Yes?

Some sort of mad reverse futurist?

Futurists?

Yes, the Italians.

They experienced the war 'pictorially. '

Like you, I'm hoping.

Some of the Italians fought well.

He served, right?

Grosz?

Yes, he did.
Genadier guards, I think.

Bolshie, huh?

No, not really, just pissed off.

Ah, yeah?

What's he pissed off about?

He thinks people should have
the right to strike.

And you, Rothman,
are you pissed off?

About the right to strike?

No, about your arm. I mean,

you were going to be a painter, right?

You're a funny one.

Well?

I think it's good, but I think
you could go even deeper.

Deeper...

what do mean, deeper?

I mean it's good.

But I sense you're just scratching
at the surface.

When I look at this work, I see
a really pretty solid technique,

but what I'm missing
is an authentic voice.

One gets the feeling that you're
holding something back.

And for the work to
really leap forward,

to really take the next step...

I keep going back to this notion
of an authentic voice.

What I mean to say is, I was there,
and you were there,

and I know what it looked like.
But what did it feel like?

I mean, that's what we want
to know, isn't it?

Does any of what I'm saying resonate?

I suppose what I'm trying to say
is you have to go as deep

as you possibly can and then you
have to gather yourself

and say 'Okay, I just broke the
surface... deeper still. '

You know, Rothman...

when I came back from this war,

I came back to nothing.

Really nothing.

No homeland, no home, no parents,

no family, no fiance, no profession,

no job, no food,

no closet full of old hockey sticks
and tennis rackets.

Not even an address.

All I have in this world
is the conviction

that I am a great artist
and a master builder.

And you just stole from that...

from the one thing that's mine.

A rich boy like you.

So if art as an object is dead,

why is everything so expensive?

Otherwise nobody would buy it.

Bolshie bastard!

Communist!
Comrade Communist.

Bastard!

Fucking Bolshie.

Commie.

Looks like Corporal Hitler had a
difficult time of it in the big city.

Keeping warm, Corporal?

Friend of yours?

It's a study for a work called
"The Cultural Consumptive. "

Yeah, I know the type.

Just clever enough to be unhappy.

Well, uh, you're an interesting man,
Corporal...

Artists aren't usually known
for their nerve.

You were awarded the Iron Cross,
first class, weren't you?

Would you like to learn
how to speak in public?

We're offering a course
to certain people.

And what kind of course?

It's a course in a new kind of science.

It is called propaganda.

The course consists of--

Yes, yes, I know about propaganda.

Well, it also consists of philosophy,
history, economics...

Look, I'm going to be frank with you,
Corporal,

we're in trouble.

Germany's balanced on a razor's edge.

Will she fall to the left,
or to the right?

I think that depends
largely on the army, Sir.

You strike me as an unusually
perceptive man, Corporal.

May we count on you?

Of course, the army will pay
for your expenses.

Hmmm?

Lads, may I present
for your edification,

Herr von Lieberfelt...
and his troupe.

Sorry - Ritter von Lieberfelt.

Men, good evening.

I'm here to present you
with a challenge.

Have you ever noticed that the Jews
only fuck each other?

Why?

Because they guard the purity
of their blood.

So if we guard the purity of our blood
the way they guard

the purity of their blood,
we see the world as it really is.

Our divine ancestors, the Aryans,

came to earth from outer space...

forged in a matrix of ice and war,

Ar becames the first
divine artist warrior.

But then, the Aryan was led
into temptation

by soft, swarthy people
from bountiful lands.

Shhh...

Shhh...

And Ar's blood is polluted

and Ar grows weak

and Ar becomes
the slave of the Jews.

Grail knights!!

Yes, because you are grail knights!

If we guard the purity
of our blood,

we have it in our power to again
straddle the earth like supermen.

I eat a little grilled fish,
no meat -- no red meat --

lots of fruit, lots of green vegetables
and cheese.

How are you sleeping?

Oh, six hours a night.

Ahhh... That's not enough...

It's too much.

I sleep too much.

No stimulants.

I'm off coffee.

Everything has to be bio now.

Steamed vegetables.

He has a new doctor.

Why doesn't he come see me?

You don't charge enough.

I've lost fifteen pounds.

I'm in and out of the tailor all the time.

I don't charge enough?!

What does she mean
I don't charge enough?!

Hullo, it's Hamlet.

Hello, all.

Doctor, Anna.

Mother, may I say you look very well?

You owe me two cases... No, you owe me
three cases of champagne...

I'll put them in the car
for you before you leave.

Do you know the difference between
a Jewish mother and a rottweiler?

Yes.

- Pappi, you've lost weight.
- You noticed?

Eventually the rottweiler lets go.

Well, we have coffee, we have cake,
we have sherry...

we have indigestion just looking at it.

He doesn't eat.

He has my delicate system.

He should come and see me.

- Hey, Sis.
- Hello.

Excellent, you've brought the brood.

Happy birthday to you...

Happy birthday to you...

Happy birthday, dear Paulie...

Happy birthday to you.

Yeah!

Plates, please!

Would you like some cake?

Ja.

Thank you for your plate.

Such a lovely boy.

As I was saying, Max,
it's a bubble,

a chimera. Everybody and his mother
wants to be a speculator

these days.

And nobody knows what they're doing.

Never been in it in my life.
You know that. Not productive.

All anybody wants to talk about today
is the market.

Such a bore...

How's your sentimental life?

Torrid. Yours?

Arid...

but sunny.

And how is your sentimental life?

Nina, that's not a penis, is it?

I think she might be dreaming of one.

Ahhh... You have much more fun in
your day than we had in mine.

Pastry, please.

Men, I have terrible news.

Our government, if you can call
this group of Jews,

homosexuals and draft dodgers
a government,

has accepted a peace in Versailles.

A peace so unjust,
it will surely lead to another war...

thank God.

Thank God because an army at
peace is like a whore at mass...

no bloody good to anyone.

So men, I want you on the street today,

and here's the message:
"Stabbed in the back. "

By who, Sir?

- Who said that?
- Me.

Doesn't matter. Doesn't matter.

What matters is that Germany is
absolved from having lost the war

and prepared to wage the next one.

Fellow loses a game
he doesn't want to play anymore.

Well, you tell him he lost
because someone else cheated.

Well, then you have to hold him back
from picking up the cards again.

Just remember, the army is the only
vital element of our society.

War is vitality.

War is the hygiene of the world.

Yes?

The treaty is unfair!

Germany for the Germans!

What are they saying?

Versailles.

Take back our land!

They're saying Versailles.

Here are the terms
of the treaty of Versailles.

Germany is to cede
Alsace Lorraine to France...

What?

Upper Silesia and West Prussia
to Poland...

Poland?

The army will be reduced to
one-hundred-thousand men.

France will occupy the Rhineland
for the next fifteen years

and Germany will assume a war debt
of twenty-million gold marks.

There aren't twenty-million marks
in this entire country.

Furthermore, Germany is to sign
a so-called war guilt clause

in which she assumes sole
responsibility for the war.

I'm ashamed to be German today.

- Hey.
- Hey.

There's a meeting down the street.

I didn't serve.
I just played the market,

I lost my arm in the crash.

Germany is to cede
Alsace Lorraine to France,

This is disgusting!

We are being stabbed in the back!

Just because you take it in the ass.

... stabbed in the back...

This guy is full of shit.

He works for the army,
he's a provocateur.

And look at his muscle...

Bastards, fucking bastards!

Let him be, boys, let him be...

A prov... ca...

A provo... ca?

That's a French word, isn't it?

No wonder I can't get my tongue
around it.

You ever notice with chaps like this
that their French is really good?

So's their Russian.

Better than their German, actually.

Well, I'll tell you who I am,
because I've got nothing to hide.

I'm a little man...

Four years in the trenches.

Don't speak French,
don't know the Latin...

Never made it past corporal.

Guess that's because I didn't have
a 'Von' before my name.

You might say
I'm the unknown soldier.

Just like you.

What do you think?

I think he's a "nothing, " Sir.

He's got a big mouth.

Yes, you're right,
he's a "nothing. "

Perhaps that's his secret,
perhaps it's the age of the nothing.

Lots of lads got it worse.

Now I'm back, looking for a job.

Can't find one, though.

Paid ten marks for a suit.

You paid too much.

That's what I said to the Jew
who sold it to me.

I can see where this is going.

Nothing new, nothing new...

Germany's greatest enemy
lives within.

Herr Rothman.

Herr Rothman, I'm...
I'm honoured.

I happened to be
in the neighborhood, so...

I'm sorry I left so...
abruptly the other day.

Well, you know what they say
in Spain, don't you?

No, I don't.

It's easy to fight the bull
from the barrerra.

Bullfighting is completely immoral.

It's vile and disgusting!!!

No, no... It means it's easier
to be a critic than an artist.

So, ah, what did you think
of my speech?

Let's just say if you were to put
the same amount of energy

into your art as you do your speaking,

you may have something going.

I best be on my way.

Hitler, come on,
I'll buy you a glass of lemonade.

Come on.

Where'd you get the sunglasses?

Progg and Fromm...

Try 'em.

Chic, very chic, Rothman.

Can I get another coffee, please?
Strong.

Yes, Sir, I'll get it.

So you're an anti-Semite?

On the contrary, I admire the Jews.

Really?

Yes, they're very intelligent people.

Well, there are intelligent ones
and not so intelligent ones,

- don't you think?
- No, no, they're all intelligent

because they guard
the purity of their blood.

What?

The... Purity... Of... The... Blood.

Because the secret of the Jews
lies in their pure Jewish blood.

That's why they're the mightiest
counterpart to the Aryan race.

What's the secret?

Is your father Jewish?

- Yes, he is.
- Mother?

Why not ask whether
she's a German?

Is that not a far more relevant question?

Mensch! Of course your mom's Jewish.

You're an awfully hard man
to like, Hitler,

but I'm going to try.

Because if I've learned anything
over the past four years

it's that we all shit the same,

scream the same and die the same.

There's no need for vulgarity,
Rothman.

I know where you've been.

And God knows we've all been turned
into assholes there.

Now, listen to me well.

You may not think
you're an anti-Semite,

but in fact you are.

I'm not.

But in this, as in all things,
there's a reason.

Your own hero, Nietzche,

said anti-Semitism is the ideology
of those who feel cheated.

How do you know
Nietzche's my hero?

Because you've obviously
skimmed his ideas.

Well, I don't feel cheated.

Excellent.
Then stop acting like it.

Are you going to smoke another
cigarette? You just put one out.

Exactly. Now where is my instinct,

my secret instinct
for self-preservation, I ask you?

I've heard these theories all my life.

Blood science, eugenics, it's rubbish,

it's complete nonsense, it's kitsch.

Put it out of your mind.

It's not modern, it's not scientific
and it will hold you back as an artist.

Speaking of which,
how's your work coming along?

And why are you making those
appalling speeches for the army?

Oh, I'm just keeping my hand in it.

Keeping your hand in what?

The army is paying my expenses.

Ah, so you don't actually believe
that rubbish.

Don't tell me
you're happy with "the peace. "

- Hello, Max.
- Hello, Esther.

How are you, Sweetheart?

I think "the peace" is a travesty.

But I don't think I can be bothered to
pick up the German banner

from the mud with my left arm.

I gave at the office, you know.

Yes, yes, yes, you did.

I'm thinking about writing
a book of politics, you know.

You're a man of many talents.

Where do you find time to paint?

Mensch, use your head!

I'm still in the army.

I'm folding laundry...
I'm cleaning out the shithouses!

Painting costs money!
I don't have a pot to piss in!

Here's what I'd like to do.

I'd like to take some of your
work on consignment.

Here's an advance
against your future sales.

Spend it any way you like.

Find yourself a nice girl,
get drunk.

Get out of politics.

Rothman, you...

you, you've saved my life.

You know, maybe you're right.

Maybe I've yet to find
my authentic voice.

Maybe I should get more modern.

You know, if I'm to be completely
honest with myself,

I've, well, I've always admired
some of the ideas behind cubism.

Seems to me you have
a great affinity for ideas.

Is that some... some clever way
of saying I have poor technique?

Try not to be one of these people
who finds a slight in any compliment.

I imagine it would be just
altogether too bourgeois

to turn on the heat.

On top of me.

Below me.

Inside of me.

I'm always by your side.

I have to go.

Half man, half doll.

Every woman's dream.

Bills, bills, bills, Fraulein.

Bills are so violent.

Sorry. Ah...
I couldn't stop him.

Ah, there you are Rothman.

Slept in late, did you?

What are you doing?

What do you mean, what am I doing?

You told me I had a show.

A show? A show?!

I told you I would take some of your
work on consignment.

The way I understand that term is,

I keep some of your work informally,
"in trust, " as it were.

And, if I can move it, I move it.

How are you going to "move it"
if it's not up?

Am I in your studio
looking over your shoulder?

No.

So don't teach your grandmother
how to suck eggs.

So you're not actually going
to show the work.

No. And I will tell you why.

"New works by Arp, Ernst, and Grosz
at Das eisen werks

November 15th to December 15th. "

So after December 15th.

Can we take it one step at a time?

Listen, Rothman, I've lost four years!

Yes, we all lost four years.
Some of us a little more.

Do you want a show?

I'd kill for you if you gave me a show.

Don't kill for me, please.

Just do what you do.

Be anxious, be nervous,

tell me you're the unknown soldier
come back to haunt us...

with your brush, Hitler,
with your brush.

Can you do that? 'Cause
that's what you've got to do...

You've got to take all this pent-up
stuff that you're quivering with

and you've got to hurl it
onto the canvas.

It doesn't have to be good
and it doesn't have to be beautiful,

it just has to be true.

And even if it's a lie,
make it an interesting lie,

and I'll put it up... I swear.

You do think I'm talented, don't you?

I think there's definitely something
rustling behind your curtain, yes.

Goodbye.

There are times...

I have these terrible doubts.

Paint them!

Paint your doubts, really!

Well? Well?

One morning, I wish you'd just say,
'Good morning, Rothman,

how did you pass the night?
The lovely Mrs. Rothman?

Your children in good health, I trust?'

You're such a bourgeois, Rothman.

- Any news?
- Yes, I'm meeting an American dentist.

- A big collector.
- Mensch!! That's good, isn't it?

Listen to me. If I see you
anywhere near that building,

I will personally set fire
to your entire life's work.

Speaking of which, when am I going to
see something new?!

Soon. Soon.

I need new things, Hitler.
I'm very motivated by newness.

Newness really does it for me.
You understand?

Ah, there's Dr. and Mrs. Levi.
Hello!

Ah, Levi, uh? Well,
you'll make the sale for sure, huh?

What can one say about Paul Klee

that hasn't been said
a hundred times before?

And on the other end
of the spectrum,

there's a young artist I've discovered
recently named Hitler.

Less aggressively modern, perhaps,

but a real example
of what I call 'Krieg Kunst. '

- War art?
- Precisely, Doctor, precisely.

Not as... mannered, as tutored as,
say... Max Ernst,

but a very authentic voice
of the trenches.

The voice of the Everyman,
the voice of the unknown soldier.

And as a gesture of solidarity
with Soviet constructivism,

I would ask only five marks
for these pieces.

Hard to go wrong for five marks.

What do you think, Darling?

They bought the Ernst!

Oh my God...

I'm going to die in some doorway
like a... dog in the street.

- A complete unknown!
- Nonsense.

I'm, I'm thirty...

I'm thirty!

Could... could you just
put that out, please?!

No. Fuck you!
I'm in my own place.

Alright. You want the truth?
I'll tell you the truth!

You're a bit lazy, Hitler.

A chap like Ernst,

up at the crack of dawn, working.

This Ernst, what's he look like?

He's rather good looking.

Rather like me, uh?

Hm-huh.

Eyes?

Light.

Hello.

Yes, but could you paint that?

Of course I-- I could, I...

The man has... no technique.

Technique is not what makes
the painting interesting.

What makes the painting compelling
is what Max Ernst reveals,

you could almost say
he admits, confesses,

about himself.

Could you do that?

Could you be so voluptuous
with yourself?

Hmm?

I think so.

Listen, the train is leaving the station,
Hitler.

One question remains:

Why aren't you on board?

I don't know.

I'm in your hands, Rothman.

Hand...

I've been going to seances, you know.

Really? That sounds progressive.

Yes it is.

It's most instructive to learn
how the old German gods

were usurped by the young God of Israel,

the God of guilt,
the projection of slaves.

Sounds like lunch at my house.

Always the joker, huh?

Why are we here, Rothman?

What has this got to do
with modern art?

Nothing, I just like it here.

I thought you were going to teach me
about modern art, Rothman.

I already know how to loaf.

It's inhuman what they're doing
to these birds.

It's inhuman.

Why don't you set them free?

That'd be a great art project, Hitler.

We'd have Chinese nightingales in
the park for years to come.

They'd sing in the snow...

and people would come
for miles around

and they would be known
as Hitler's Nightingales.

Are you on the spike, Rothman?

Is that what's wrong with you?

Bloody hell!

Damn it!

Hullo, midgets.

What are you doing, Dad?

Dad said a bad word.

Aha.

You are a very clever girl, Ada,
love of my life.

You're right.

Because that's exactly what dad has
been thinking about: words.

Good words...

and bad words,
because...

words are magic.

Sometimes I think the whole world
is strung together by words.

Victory!

Pappi?

Yes, young man?

In the world upside down,
what would we be doing now?

In the world upside down,
that's easy, we'd be having breakfast.

And what would we have
for breakfast?

In the world upside down?

Let's see.

For breakfast we'd have grilled sole,
green beans,

new potatoes,
plum pudding for dessert...

Yum!

And in the world upside down,
right now

I would say, "I hate you, I hate you,
I hate you, Pauli.

I loathe you beyond reason, "
wouldn't I?

Now go to sleep...

and tomorrow we'll fly
around the sun together.

Hello, Darling.

Hi, Sweetheart.

George Grosz... Adolf Hitler.

My wife, Nina.

You...

Nice guy...

Oh, he's a futurist...

Really, what's his name?

Hitler.

- Never heard of him.
- You will.

Are you ready?

- Oh, Hitler.
- Yes.

- Are you a painter?
- Yes. Yes, I'm an artist.

You are a friend of my husband's?

Of sorts.

In August 1914, I volunteered
for the army and was accepted

to my father's old regiment,
the Light Hussars.

I used to think we rode into the war
on horseback,

but now I realize that, in fact,
we rode into the war on words.

Yes, my friend, words.

If the high command had used nails to
hammer our feet to the mud,

I think we would have found
a pair of pliers,

passed them down the line,
and made a break for it.

But the words, the words kept us
rooted to the ground.

Now these are magical words,
used in mass hypnosis.

And if you would like millions
of young men to give up their lives

for your cause,
you must first learn these words.

Repeat after me.

The enemy... is the foe or the host.

The enemy is the foe or the host.

Danger... is peril.

Danger is peril.

To be brave is to be gallant.

To be brave is to be gallant.

The dead...

Oh, yes, the dead.

They are not dead.

They are the fallen.

One's chest is...

one's breast.

To move quickly is to be swift.

A soldier is...

... a warrior.

... a warrior.

War is strife.

Actions are deeds.

To die is to perish.

To sleep is to slumber.

The sky are the heavens.

Blood... elan vitale.

And arms and legs...

are noble limbs.

Hey, Soldier.

Thank you.

Disgusting!

Revolting!

That was a miscalculation
of rare magnitude,

wouldn't you say?

You're their fuckin' dealer, Max.

They want you to sell their paintings
and make 'em rich,

not scare the fucking shit out of 'em,

Darling, that wasn't Paulie's
cowboy hat, was it?

What a masquerade he puts on.

Hussar this, father's regiment that.

As German as you or I.
Butter wouldn't melt in his mouth,

finagling himself,
throwing his money around,

finding himself a German whore,

and of course all the while staying
married in the faith.

Always working on the inside
from the outside.

Why, the patient looks perfectly healthy.

But then you look at the turd,
but really look at it,

and then you see the worms
crawling around.

There weren't any of the men there,
were there?

No, no. Only artists
and the usual degenerates.

Well... I'm sure they adored it...

They hated it!

They hated it!

They stood there like stiffs.
It went completely over their head.

This Rothman...

This, this Rothman...

Rothman made the whole war look
small and pointless,

ridiculous, absurd.

Don't despair, junger,
you've got your own talent.

You just have to let it out.

Let it out.

The general collective unconscious
is essentially feminine.

- It takes a strong, masculine type.
- Hello.

Rothman.

Well, what did you think?

The other night.

My disaster.
Did it remind you of Ypres?

Or was it just rubbish?

Yes, what did you think?

It didn't remind me of Ypres.

No?

What did it remind you of, if anything?

It reminded me, perhaps...

perhaps, of a particularly disgusting
and depraved dream of Ypres.

As opposed to the happy,
glorious one.

Exactly.

Exactly.

Which your piece implies
is ipso facto impossible.

Listen to them,
farting higher than their...

their asshole.

What was that you said, Erich?

I said...

Yes, I know what you said.

My question was
rhe... to... ri... cal.

It's a difficult word, isn't it, Erich?

Shall I ask you to spell it?

Well, this was fun.

But duty calls
and I must mind the store;

can't give up the day job.

We forgive you for a lot, don't we?

Forgive and forget,

turn the other way
where others wouldn't, nicht?

Nicht, Erich?

Nicht?

My God, what Philistines you all are!

Rothman.

So, how's my career going?

Slow...

The whole market's slow right now.

Who are those gentlemen?

Guttersnipes.

Don't seem very good company.

I'm flirting with politics again...

It's a party that promotes
the interests of the veteran,

but sometimes you have to build
a base from the base.

Do you?

Well, I'll just have to take
your word for that.

Hey, listen.

Do you want to meet some girls?

Girls?

Yes, Hitler, girls.

You know, those brilliant creatures
who make you feel artistic

without doing a stitch of work.

Come on.

- Afternoon.
- Afternoon.

So there were parts of it you liked?

I mean, I know you're more
of a patriot than I am.

Where'd you come up with the idea
of the toys?

My son.

You should have children.
They give you good ideas.

Ever consider the future, Hitler?

The future?

I think all my work's
based on the future.

Yes, and what do you see?

Do you see fame, money,
beautiful lovers?

- I see myself teaching.
- Hmm.

And you, Rothman?
How do you see the future?

Look inside my pocket.

"Would you die
for the mother-in-law land?"

You're a menace, Rothman.

I got another one for you:

"War is the instrument
with which the happy... "

No, no... Reverse that.
"War is the instrument

by which the unhappy turn the happy
into themselves".

Mensch, don't you know that genius
and happiness go together

about as well as cheese and chalk?

Cheese and chalk!
Paint that!

No, I disagree.

You know that all great cultures die
from the same cause...

blood poisoning.

Don't you know that all great,

truly great art comes
from the struggle...

the titanic, the epic,
the eternal struggle.

Are you saying all art
should be political?

No, no, no, dear girl, I...

I'm simply speaking
of the pure blood mixture,

everything depends on blood mixture

and the resultant drops
in racial levels.

Hitler's very concerned with blood.

We, we, we... think,
we hope it's a metaphor.

He's a futurist. Doesn't he
sort of remind you of Marinetti?

No, no.

Well, he does a bit.

Max, what are you doing
with this man?

He's the most horrible creature
I've ever seen.

He doesn't have any friends.

Of course he doesn't have any
friends, he doesn't listen.

And this thing about blood.

He had a bad war.

No, Darling, you had a bad war.
I'm sure he had a fine war.

What do you feel guilty about, Max?

I don't feel guilty, I think
guilt is a second-rate emotion.

On the other hand,
when I came back from the war,

I came back to my family
and my bank account and my parents

and the best care, and he came back
to nothing, but really nothing.

So clearly you do feel guilty.

No, but I acknowledge the fact
that I don't know

what it's like to come back to nothing.

Oh, Darling, you're wrong.

You've came back to nothing
and every day,

I see you turn that
into something so beautiful.

I told him the other day
that his insane fucking ideas

were holding him back as an artist.

And he tries, he really does...
sometimes.

Until tonight, of course,
but that's because

he feels insecure being around
you two lovely ladies.

Just remember, Max,
Florence Nightingale died of syphilis.

And that means what?

Don't get too close
to your charity cases.

You've got chocolate
all over your mouth.

Thank you.
That was very nice of you.

I just want to know what he has
in that briefcase.

It's the second time
he went to the loo.

He just left.

Fucking bitches.

Forget about it, Rothman.

May I?

Ah, the artist at home.

Well, what an artist you are.

What a vision...
so clear, such focus.

I almost feel guilty asking you this
because I don't want

to take you away from your work.
But for a while now,

we've been taking an interest
in a small political party.

It has five or six hundred members.

It's called the National Socialist
Workers Party.

Hnnh...

Don't let the name fool you.
They're as socialist as you and me.

We had a speaker scheduled for them,

but the fellow's come down
with a cold, so...

so we were wondering if you might be
persuaded to say a few words.

But, of course...

I understand if the muses are...

David! What do you think
of the future?

I think it's expensive.

Max...

- How are you?
- How are you?

- Fine. You look fine.
- Thank you.

Is that a...
a fur bath?

Yes. Yes, it is. Yes, it is.

Gerta's in good health, I trust?

Yeah, she's fine, she's fine.

So am I, uh, in the soup, as they say?

No, no, no...

The soup's good,
you're in the shit.

Oh, that's nice.

Max, this is serious.

I know you're just careless,
but the tax people

could easily take a different position.

Hmmm.

What do you suggest?

I suggest we write them a check
right away

and we plead forgetfulness
and artistic license.

I can't. I'm skint.
I just gave George an advance.

You promised you were going
to run this as a business.

Could you borrow from your father?

No, I don't want to bother him.

Arrange for another loan against
das eisern werk.

It's not so simple.

The boys at the bank are going to
want to know what it's for.

Ask your dad. It's so much simpler.
It's just a loan.

Hello, Fraulein...

Hello.

Goodbye, Max.

Goodbye, David.

David, what is it that your brother calls
the art business, again?

Baked air.

Baked air.
That is so... great.

Sorry I'm late, Herr Rothman.

You know that horrible little tramp

whose always making you feel guilty,
Herr Hitler.

He's making a speech right near us,
where we live,

and I really think you should
hear what he has to say, Herr Rothman.

We are being stabbed in the back!

We won this war!

Our boys fought like lions, like lions!

So why in the name of providence
are we giving away

70,000 square miles of land, abandoning
six million of our fellow Germans?

Because we have been
stabbed in the back!

By the profiteers, and the maggots,
and the parasites.

And make no mistake.

Germany's greatest enemy
lives within.

Deutschlanderrrrrrsss!!!

Deutschlanderrss!!!

Deutschlanderrrrrrsss!!!

Deutchlanderrrrrrsss!!!

Deutschlanderrrrrrsss!!!

Deutschlanderrrrrrsss!!!

Deutschlanderrrrrrsss!!!

Ah, Rothman, there you are.

Well, what do you think?

Well, what can one say?

This is the new art, Rothman.

I realized something that all
you hoity-toity types missed,

drinking your coffee,

smoking your cigarettes
with your mistresses...

The way to reinvent art
is not to make it political --

far too small a step.

No, Rothman, you could say
you and I were ploughing

the same furrows for a while,

but then I made the bigger leap.

Politics is the new art.

Yes, Rothman, my whole life,

my whole life has been
a detour to this moment.

Everything I've struggled
to learn about art,

about design, colour, composition,
theatre, opera, architecture...

I'm going to stuff it all
into this and make it live again.

Well, Hitler,

I've always thought you to be
an intuitive futurist.

You're so disappointing, Rothman.

Am I only acceptable to you
if you can classify me?

Isn't that emblematic
of the world we both despise?

What's happened to you, Rothman?
You're suddenly so conventional.

Go deeper, you said.

Well, I went deep.

I went deeper than any artist
has ever gone before.

Where is the work, my dear?

Hmm?

Where is the evidence of this
journey into the abyss?

I am the new avant garde!

I am the new artist
practicing the new art!

And politics is the new art!

Hello.

Hello.

You look pensive.

No, no, no, no...
I was just, I was just thinking...

Where are you going?

Oh, I have to return some drawings.

And I'm being dragged
to shul again tonight.

He just wants to get away
from your mother.

Sometimes I think we're all
marching backwards.

How do I rate?
As a partner?

Promising...

especially when you learn
to apply yourself.

While we're on the subject,
I hear that it takes more than one girl

to tell you that you're still handsome.

But at a certain point...

it starts to get in the way...

of, umm...

Progress?

Exactly.

You know,
progress really does it for me.

I'll see you tonight.

Well, I'm sorry it didn't work out.

Yes, well, look, Rothman,

you're a... a...

A what, Hitler?

You're a...

a well-born sort of person.

By caesarean, actually.

A nice sort of person...

There's a lot of people in this country
who don't like...

well-born sorts.

Well, we'll just have to live with that,
won't we?

What's this?

Some designs.

Hmm.

My God.

That's certainly an alternative
to boring old modernism.

This is some old-new future world,
isn't it?

Yes.

This will be the symbol
for the whole movement.

It's a Sanskrit symbol for energy,
for the sun, but I've reversed it.

Yes, that I've seen before.

Yes, but against a white background?

My God, you really worked this out,
didn't you?

Down to the uniforms,

and, um...

Yes, I see.

- And, uh, what kind of roads...
- Roads?

You see, even in the more thickly
populated areas,

these large super roads will create
a sense of open space,

and of flying...

Hitler, this is meant work.

You finally found your voice.

The future... as a return to the past.

You wouldn't...

show it, would you?

Yes,

I will.

Because this work...

well...

this work belongs in a gallery.

You're not pulling my leg,
are you, Rothman?

Because, ah, I do have a career
in politics, you know.

Well, Hitler, what would you rather do?

Change the way people see?

Or how they pay their taxes?

Meet me at Metropole, nine-thirty.

Bring everything, the whole schmier.

He's created this whole new world
and he has all these flags

and drawings
with these Teutonic references.

That doesn't sound very futuristic.

No, but you can't say
it's not a coherent vision,

down to detailed notes
on his foreign policy.

David, he... he's created
these epic roadways

where the traveller will experience
the feeling of flight.

He's resurrected all the German gods

and it's all complete kitsch
from A to Z.

It's... it's very interesting.
It's future kitsch.

Oh, he sounds mad.
Oh, he's barking!

And what he's pushing makes the Kaiser
seem like a Sunday painter.

I saw him speak.

Oh, really?
That sounds a bit of a worry.

No, no, no, he's dreadful.

He just stands there
shouting slogans and posing

and the whole thing
is like a giant art project.

Of course, the minute I said
I'd show him...

- Politics went out the window.
- Exactly.

It's going to be a big show!
It's going to be a big, big show!

- Please, no, Max. You cannot afford it.
- I'm going to bring in...

some English artists, some French ones.
There's this character called Duchamp,

he's very, very interesting. He does
things with urinals and wine racks.

- Says in the future, everything is art.
- Ahhh, the meshugana show

Ah, pappi!

The future is subversive, David!

And I don't want to see
any stiffs up front!

Yesterday there was nothin' but stiffs,
I never got going.

Well, I don't have any control over
who's in front.

Mensch, are you daft?

This is all about control,
that's the thing about art.

You don't just slap on the paint,
even if it looks that way.

Now, I need more enthusiasm
up front.

I need the energy, it's like a loop --
they give it to me,

I give it to them, they give it to me.

Could you put that out, please?
It bothers my voice.

And this is the last time.

No more.

What are you talking about?

- I'm through.
- You're through?

Find somebody else.

Rothman's going to give me a show.

Rothman? Rothman?

Max Rothman?

Are you mad?

You think Herr Rothman
would lift a finger for you?

Hitler, you have one of the most
authentic Germanic voices

I've ever heard.

And you're thirty years old.
It's now or never.

What are you waiting for?

They're your canvas...

That's your paint.

What are you waiting for?
Let it out!

Let it out!

Today...

today, I will address something
central to my thinking.

Today, I will address
the Jewish question.

Not long ago, I was strolling,

when I suddenly encountered
an apparition

in a black caftan
and black hair locks.

And my first question was...

Is this a Jew?

And then the more I stared,
the more my first question

assumed a new form:

Is this a German?

: Nooo!!!

Is there any form of filth,
particularly in cultural life,

without a Jew involved in it?

Because when you cut into an
abscess, what do you find,

like maggots in a rotting body?

A kike!

With the appearance
of the first settlement,

the Jew is suddenly at hand,

the stranger is given
a friendly reception.

He soon becomes an active part of
the economic life of the settlement.

He begins to lend money.

Now the Jew is a steady resident.

Commerce and finance have become
his complete monopoly.

He begins a second phase,

where he begins to emphasize
his Judaism less,

and his Germanism more.

Yes, he becomes,
if you can believe it,

Germanic.

Culturally, he contaminates
art and literature, theatre.

Religion... ridiculed.

Ethics and morality...

pissed on!!!

German girls turned into whores!!!

Whores!!!

The Jew casts off his final cloak
and becomes the blood Jew.

The tyrant becomes the vampire
of nations.

The vampire of the people
of Deutschland.

Blood Jew, blood Jew, blood Jew...

blood Jew... blood Jew...

blood Jew... blood Jew...

blood Jew... blood Jew...
blood Jew...

Blood Jew... Blood Jew...

So, coming for supper?

Mmmm...

No.

I have to meet someone
at the Metropole at 9:30.

Can I drop you?

No, I'd like to walk.

I should get more exercise.

I'm seeing a hypnotist Monday.

Well, that's good.

Are you sure I can't drop you?

Kiss Mammi for me.

Oh, God.

Leave him.

He's finished.