All language subtitles for The.Prague.Orgy.2019.WEBRip-YTS.MX-YIFY-English

First time in Czechoslovakia?

Yes.

Do you have a reason
for your visit?

Tourism.

We were on the same flight,
weren"t we?

- Were we?
- I"ve ordered a car.

I can give you a lift
to the city if you want,

so that no one bothers you.

Thank you,
that"s very kind of you,

but I have someone
waiting for me here.

A pity. Be careful.

Thank you.

Mr. Zuckerman,

I"m Rudolf Bolotka.

It"s great to meet you, Rudolf.

Please call me Nathan.

Welcome to Prague, Nathan.

Thank you.

Larry Stern sends
his best regards.

Thank you!

How is Larry doing?

He"s good. He's good.

How was your flight?

Long.

- Hop into my limousine.
- Thank you, sir.

Nathan, I"ve arranged
your dates with the writers

for later tonight.

Thank you.

What else brings you to Prague?

Having a well-spent time.

That"s no problem,

even in occupied Prague.

Do you like orgies?

I would think so.

To be honest, um,

I"m interested in the scene
around Jerzy Klenek.

- Ah, Klenek.
- Yeah.

Have rumors
of his marvelous parties

made it to America too?

I would say so.

Whoever wants to be someone
in Prague goes there.

That"s no problem.

Ever since the Russian invasion,

the best orgies in Europe
are in Czechoslovakia.

Less liberty,

better fucks.

Call me when you"re ready,
I"ll pick you up,

but don"t call from the hotel.

Everything"s bugged.

There"s a phone booth
over there.

Here"s some change.

Okay.

Bye.

Hi.

Change money? Change money?

Sorry, no thanks.

- Good afternoon.
- Good afternoon.

Welcome to Prague,
Mr. Zuckerman.

Thank you.

Why am I always saying
to myself,

"Do not let yourself
be stopped"?

Am I really here
to strike a deal with a woman

who I don"t know?

Or do I just want
to struggle with myself?

I appreciate the award,
I really do, it"s just...

You know, I don"t want to talk
about my books.

In my opinion, there should be
a 100-year moratorium

on all literature talk.

Okay, Nathan Zuckerman, still,
let me ask you a question.

The, uh, response
to your latest book

has been tremendous.

Its, uh, hilarious treatment
of sexual excess

has offended a lot of people,

and yet it"s still at the top
of the best seller list.

What do you say
about this phenomenon?

Personally,
I"d be more surprised

if the response were
mild indifference.

Right.

Are there any more questions?

Mr. Zuckerman, uh,

do you really regard sex
as a battle between man

and a toothed vagina?

That is my ludicrous fate:

to be the opposite
of the man that you say I am.

Thank you.

- Joe.
- Thank you, Larry.

Since the Soviet occupation
in 1968, you"ve been helping

prohibited writers
in Czechoslovakia.

Specifically,
how does your work help them?

Many excellent
Czechoslovakian writers

have been banned
or forced into exile.

We try to support them.

We seek financial aid for them,

and we want to publish
their work here.

Thank you.

Fascinating.

Uh, Nathan,

congratulations once again

and wishing you
much more success.

Thank you, Larry,
it"s been a pleasure.

Thank you.

I"ve heard you're going
to Prague?

Yeah, I"m gonna meet
a couple writers there.

I wouldn"t recommend that,
Zuckerman.

The situation in Czechoslovakia
may be dangerous.

The regime"s tightening
its grip.

The Soviets are carrying out
political purges there.

I want you to meet someone.

Zdenek.

This may interest you, Nathan.

- Hello, Larry.
- This is Eva.

Zdenek is a Czech writer.

He used to be well-recognized

till he fell out
of the regime"s favor.

Your novel is absolutely one
of the five or six books

of my life.

- Zdenek Sisovsky.
- Hi.

Eva Kalinova.
We both originate from Prague.

- Very nice to meet you.
- Nice to meet you.

I"ve been watching
the whole scandalous response

to your book.

It interests me
because my own work

also had a scandalous response
in Czechoslovakia.

Really?

And what was the scandal?

Please, I don"t wish to compare
our two books.

Yours is a work of genius,
mine is nothing.

Not quite nothing.

It got you exiled.

You"ll have to tell Nathan.

I gotta go.
I"ll give you a call.

Thank you very much.

- Nathan?
- Yeah?

- Talk to my Czech friend.
- Yeah, thanks, Larry.

Walk with me?

Great idea.

Mr. Zuckerman,
it would be a great honor

if you had lunch with us.

I will invite you.

Taxi.

Let"s go.

Eva?

Thank you.

Eva is a different case.

She has only hatred.

Hatred?

For what?

Well, for everyone
who has betrayed you,

for everyone who has hurt you.

You hate them,
and you wish they were dead.

I don"t even think
of them anymore.

You wish them
to be tortured in hell.

I have forgotten them
completely.

I should like to tell you
about Eva Kalinova.

Eva is Prague"s great
Chekhovian actress.

No one there will dispute it,
not even the regime.

- Oh.
- There is no Nina since hers,

no Irina, no Masha.

I don"t want this.

All of the country
has been in love with her.

Soon she will be acting again.

To be an actress in America,
you must speak English

that doesn"t give people
a headache.

Eva, sit down. Sit down.

Lots of outstanding actresses
speak English with an accent,

and they give a headache
to no one.

You cannot be on stage
and speak English

that nobody can understand.

Come on.

And I do not want to perform
any more plays.

I had enough of being
an artificial person.

I"m glad to be finished
with all my successes.

Brezhnev has given me a chance
to be an ordinary nobody.

I sell dresses,

and dresses are needed more
by people

than stupid, emotional,
Chekhovian actresses.

You must tell him about
the Vice-Minister of Culture

and what happened with him
after you left your husband.

- Please stop it.
- No, no, no, Eva, please.

Tell me.
Really, I"m interested.

- Thank you.
- Thank you.

Well, and Eva is dismissed
from the National Theatre.

The Vice-Minister
is so pleased with himself

that he goes around boasting
how he handled Sisovsky"s whore.

Maybe he believes that when
the news reaches Moscow,

the Russians will give him
a medal for...

his cruelty and anti-Semitism.

Why do you persecute me?

I do not care to be
an ironical character

in the Czech story.

Everything that happens
in Czechoslovakia,

they say, "Pure Kafka,

pure Svejk."

I"m sick of it.

What do you want to do
at home alone?

Have a drink, Eva!

Try to enjoy life
in the free world.

Okay, I understand,
but Zuckerman is interested.

Sorry, I must go.

You"re gonna let her leave?

Eva.

Eva, wait, please.

Just come and sit down.

Why?

"Cause I can't let you go
like this.

Don"t let us draw you
into our stories.

- Hello?
- Rudolf!

Hi, it"s Nathan.

- Hi.
- How are things?

Everything"s arranged.

I"ll pick you up
in half an hour, agreed?

Okay, bye.

So, this is where
you"ll always find me.

Ah, it"s very nice.

No, this way.

Welcome to my kingdom.

- What, this is where you work?
- Mm-hmm.

You, a brilliant
theater director?

I have worked here as a janitor

since I was fired
from the theater.

The menial work is done now
by the writers

and the teachers
and the construction engineers,

and the construction is run
by the drunks and the crooks.

Half a million people
have been fired from their jobs.

Sisovsky, I didn"t realize

on top of everything else
that you"re Jewish.

My father was a Jew,
my mother was not.

He taught mathematics
and was a writer.

He wrote hundreds of stories
about Jews,

only he did not publish
a single one.

My father didn"t use Yiddish,

but he wrote his stories
in Yiddish.

Unique stories
about a long-forgotten world,

stories about homelessness
and uprootedness.

My father was killed before
they started transporting Jews

from mixed marriages.

Oh, what happened to him?

Two drunk Nazis
were having a fight.

He was out on the street
with my older brother,

the yellow star on his coat,
and out of nowhere,

one of the Nazis comes up to
them and simply starts firing.

He shot them both,

my father and my brother
as well.

What happened to your mother
and to you?

My mother hid on a farm,
and there I was born

two months later.

- So you never met your father?
- No.

But his stories are the best
I have ever read.

I am obsessed
with the great Jewish writer

that might have been.

Do you have his stories
with you here in New York?

No, they are in Prague
with my books,

and my books in Prague
are with my wife

who is also in Prague,

and my wife does not like me
so much anymore.

I am afraid I will never see
my father"s stories again.

My mother goes to ask
and my wife shows her

photographs
of all my mistresses, naked.

These, too,
I left behind in Prague

with my books, unfortunately.

Do you think she would destroy
the stories?

No, no, she couldn"t do that.

Olga is a writer, too,
she loves literature.

In Czechoslovakia,
she"s very well known

for her writing,
and for her drinking,

and for showing everybody
her vagina.

You would like Olga.

Okay!

Actually, wait.

This is Olga.

If you were to visit Prague,
and I know you are going to,

and you were to meet my wife,

she would even give you
my father"s stories.

You really think she would?

If she were to fall in love
with you.

Sisovsky, what exactly
are you suggesting here?

If you were to go about it
the right way, of course.

She loves love.

She does anything for love.

And what"s the right way,
in your opinion?

Nathan, a great American writer,

famous, attractive,
American genius

who does not practice
the American innocence

to a shameless degree.

If he were to ask her
for my father"s stories,

Olga would give them to him.

The only thing is not
to lay her too soon.

You can do whatever you want
in Klenek"s.

No drugs, but plenty of whiskey.

You can fuck,

you can look at dirty pictures,

you can look at yourself
in the mirror,

or you can do nothing.

All the best people are there.

Also the worst.

We"re all comrades now.

Come to the orgy, Zuckerman.

You"ll see the final stage
of the revolution.

You just need to be careful

"cause his house
is bugged everywhere.

The secret police.

They are here all the time.

Like at your home.

- Some wine for you.
- Thank you.

Here you can go alone.

Have a good time.

You may have exaggerated

the depths
of Prague"s depravity.

This... this feels
more like a museum.

Klenek lives in this palazzo,
and he does what he wants.

Why is he so privileged?

He"s the son of a famous
Art Nouveau painter,

and he"s married
a German baroness,

therefore he can travel,
unlike the others.

And he tells them things.

He might be a cop,

but no one tells him anything
because everybody suspects that.

He may well be a double agent.

So what"s the point?

To be a double agent
when everybody knows?

Exactly.

That one,

over there,

he is a terrible
abstract painter.

He made his best painting
the day the Russians invaded us.

He painted over the street signs

so the tanks wouldn"t know
where they were.

He also has
the longest prick in Prague.

Sit down.

That one over there.

That is Mr. Vodicka.

He is a very good writer,

an excellent writer,
but everything scares him.

If he sees a petition,
he passes out.

If he signs one,
he takes it back immediately

and says to the government
that he"s sorry.

Apologizing
for his confused beliefs,

hoping they will let him write
again about his perversion.

Yeah, will they?

Of course not.

They will tell him to write
a historical novel

about beer in Plzen.

I know who you are.

And you are who?

I don"t know.

I don"t even feel I exist.

Do I exist?

Neither do you, my dear, since
you got fired from the theater.

Right?

This one"s Olga.

She has the best legs in Prague.

She"s showing them to you.

Right.

Otherwise she doesn"t exist.

Mr. Vodicka wants something
from Olga.

Who is Olga?

One of the most famous women
in the country.

Olga wrote our love stories.

She"s Klenek's girlfriend,

and she organizes
all these parties.

Her boyfriend, Klenek,
looks after her.

Why does she need
looking after her?

Olga!

Why do you need looking after?

This is awful.

I hear only stories
about myself tonight,

stories about who I fuck.

I would never fuck such people.

Why do you need
looking after, Olga?

Because I"m shaking

and frightened of everything.

Feel me shaking.

She"s shaking.

I"m frightened of him too.

Well, you don"t act frightened.

Since I"m frightened of
everything, it"s all the same.

If I get into too much trouble,

you will marry me
and take me to America.

Oh.

I will telegram you

and you will come and save me.

Do you know what
Mr. Vodicka wants now?

He has a boy
who has never seen a woman.

He wants me to show it to him.

Why are you in Prague?

Looking for Kafka?

The intellectuals
all come here looking for Kafka,

but Kafka is dead.

They should be looking for Olga.

And what would they discover?

Are you planning to make love
to anybody in Prague?

Let me know.

It... there is Kouba.

I can"t be in this house
with that Kouba.

Kouba is one
of our great communist heroes.

It"s surprising
he"s still in Prague.

- Really?
- Not all our great

communist heroes who were
in Italy with their girlfriends

when the Russians invaded
bothered to return.

Do you know why?

At last they were free
of their terrible wives.

So...

why do you come to Prague?

You"re not looking for Kafka,

and you don"t want to fuck.

Fuck.

I love this word, "fuck."

Why don"t we have
this word, Rudolf?

Teach me.

Teach me how to say "fuck."

- This is a good fucking party.
- Ah.

- I was really fucked.
- Yes.

Wonderful word.
Teach me about "fuck."

Um... shut the fuck up!

Beautiful! Shut the fuck up!

More, more.

Fuck it all, fuck everything!

Yes, yes, fuck it all,
fuck everything,

and fuck everybody.

Fuck the world
until it cannot fuck me anymore.

See?

- I learn fast.
- Yeah, real fucking fast.

In America, I would be
a famous writer like you.

He"s afraid to fuck me.

Why is that? Why?

Why do you write this book
about fucking

that makes you so famous

if you"re afraid
to fuck somebody?

You hate fucking everybody
or just me?

Everybody.

He"s a gentleman, Olga.

He doesn"t tell you the truth
because you"re so hopeless.

Why am I hopeless?

Because in America, the girls
don"t talk to him like that.

What do they say in America?

Teach me to be an American girl.

Well, first you would take
your hand off my prick.

Oh, I see.

- Okay.
- Okay.

Now what?

We would talk.

We would try to get
to know each other.

Why?

I don"t understand.

Talk about what, the Indians?

Yes, we would talk at length
about the Indians.

It won"t work
without the Indians?

- No way, right?
- No way.

Okay.

And then I put my hand
on your prick?

That"s right.

And then you fuck me.

That would be the way
we would do it, yes.

America is
a very strange country.

It"s one of them.

But first, I want you
to show me yours.

Olga, why do you want to see it?

I don"t, I've seen too many.

Vodicka wants it.

Now I can already see
the dicks at the cop shop

flourishing the photograph
in front of my face

where all the boys meet

and threaten to jail me
for pedophilia

if I don"t cooperate.

Everywhere in this house,
there are cameras.

On the street, someone is
always snapping my picture.

Half the country is employed
spying on the other half.

I am a rotten, degenerate,
negativistic pseudo-artist,

and this will prove it.

This is how they destroy me.

Why do you do it then?

It is too silly not to.

Come on, guys.

Let"s go.

I"ll show it to him.

Are cameras hidden here?

Klenek says only microphones.

Maybe in the bedrooms
for the fucking,

but you go on the floor
and turn off the lights.

Don"t worry.

Don"t be scared.

You wanna fuck,
fuck her on the floor.

All of us are going to drink
ourselves to death here.

You get onto a streetcar
at night

when the great working class
is on its way home,

and the great working class
smells like a brewery.

How do you all live like this?

Human adaptability

is a great blessing.

Oh! Where"s Mr. Vodicka?

I have no idea.

I"m afraid you have
to get up, Olga.

- I"m going now.
- I come with you.

You must be patient.

Some pretty pussycat of 15
will surely show up.

And she will be worth it.

What are you afraid of?

You can"t have
such a freedom in New York.

But he doesn"t want
a girl of 15.

They are old whores by now.

He wants one who"s 40.

Why do you act like this?

You come all the way
to Czechoslovakia,

you take risks,
and then you act like this.

- I will never see you again.
- Yes, you will.

You"re lying.

You will go back
to those American girls

and talk about the Indians
and fuck them.

Next time,
you will tell me before

and I will study
my Indian tribes.

Olga, Olga, please.

Have lunch with me tomorrow,
okay?

I"ll come,
I"ll get you right here.

But what about tonight?

Why don"t you fuck me now?

An imperialist agent
with no license to fuck.

Why are you leaving me
if you like me?

I don"t understand.

You like me, don"t you?

I do.

That"s not enough.

Leave him alone.

He is a middle-class boy.

But this is
a classless socialist society,

and you take no action.

Your American readers
would be surprised

to see what a respectable
and virtuous man you are.

Yes, yes, I am a quiet
and polite spectator,

and I don"t take my pants off
in public.

All great international figures
come to Prague

to see our oppression,
but none of them will ever fuck.

Why is that?

Neither Sartre
nor Simone de Beauvoir,

neither Heinrich Boll,
Carlos Fuentes.

None!

You all think to sign a petition
will save Czechoslovakia,

but what will save
Czechoslovakia

would be to fuck Olga.

Olga"s drunk.

She"s also crying.

Don"t worry about her.

This is just Olga.

Come on.

Well, I don"t want you

To feel down and out
and all alone

Well, I don"t want you

To feel down and out
and all alone

Well, I don"t want you

Nathan?

The people you wanted to see
are probably expecting us.

We"ll meet them in a beer hall.

Wait, wait, everyone will see us
in a beer hall.

You sure?

But the police don"t want
any scandals in the public.

Are you really leaving?

Now they will interrogate me
about you.

For six hours, they will torture
me with questions,

and I can"t even tell them
we fucked.

Is that what happens?

Their interrogations
are not to be dramatized.

Of course they"re interested
in you,

but they don"t need you
to accuse people.

Will they interrogate you
about me?

If they"ll ask me why you came
to Czechoslovakia,

I"ll tell them in plain terms.

Well, what will you say?

That you came here
for the 15-year-old girls.

"Read his book," I"ll tell them,
"and you"ll understand."

And don"t worry about Olga.

She"ll be all right.

She won"t be alone.

I will not be all right.

I will see you tomorrow
for lunch.

Come on.

Zuckerman,

marry me and take me away.

If you marry me,
they must let me go.

This is the law,
even they obey it.

You wouldn"t have to fuck me,

you could fuck
the American girls.

You wouldn"t have to love me
or even give me money.

And she would scrub your floors
and iron your beautiful shirts.

Yes, yes, yes, I would iron
your shirts all day long.

Yeah, that would be
the first week.

Then would begin the second week

and the excitement
of being Mr. Olga.

That isn"t true.

I would leave him alone.

And then would begin the vodka

and then would begin
the adventures.

Not in America, no.

Olga, in America,
you would shoot yourself.

- I would shoot myself here.
- Yeah?

- Yeah.
- With what?

A tank!

Tonight.

I will steal a Russian tank

and I will shoot myself
with it tonight.

- Fuck off.
- Should we be letting her walk?

No, no.

Olga always does what she wants.

She was married
to a promising writer,

but one day she found out
he was cheating on her

with a famous actress,

and in her fury,
she called the cops on him.

The problem is that Sisovsky
always carries

a note from a doctor saying
he"s a psychiatric case.

Wait, so the authorities
will leave him alone?

Well, he"s got so-called
legal confirmation

that he"s crazy in the head

so he wouldn"t have to do
his military service.

The police read the note

and take him
to the lunatic asylum,

and he was held there
for a long time

before he was released.

That"s Olga.

Vaculda and Havlicek
are coming at 10,

unless they"re in custody again.

I"m pretty sure
that guy over there

was watching us
outside the hotel.

Oh.

Secret police, probably.

Secret?

There is nothing secret
about it.

, this is Nathan Zuckerman.

- Vaclav.
- Hi.

- Vaclav.
- Great to meet you.

- And Ludvik.
- Pleasure to meet you.

- Nice to meet you.
- Come on, guys, let"s sit down.

Thank you.

It"s a pleasure
to finally meet you in person,

both of you.

Here, where the literary culture
is held hostage,

the art of narration
flourishes by mouth.

In Prague, stories
aren"t simply stories.

Storytelling is the form
their resistance has taken

against the coercion
of the powers-that-be.

So, I, uh, I have your contracts
from the publisher.

- You just need to sign it.
- No.

Don"t give it to me.

Put it on the bench, please.

So, Olga is studying
the Indian tribes right now.

That"s great,
I happen to be an expert

in Indian tribes myself.

I know them as well.

Right.

Let"s write them down.

We don"t want to say
a name twice.

Oh, yeah, yes, I have a pen.

Uh, here.

You start?

Yes, uh...

The Apache.

The Mohicans.

Ah.

The Apalachee.

The West Apalachee.

The East Apalachee.

No, those don"t exist.

There are only the west ones.

So, the, um, Comanche.

The Cherokee.

The Sioux.

Uh-huh.

The Huron people.

The Mohican people.

Zacatecas.

Ooh.

Good one.

Uh, the, uh...

the Hamentashen tribe.

Oh...

I don"t know that one.

Okay, yeah, no,
it"s a Jewish cookie.

It"s delicious, by the way.

Ludvik,

I think you also need
to go to the toilet.

You must listen
to this one, Nathan,

since you love stories so much.

Blecha was
my best childhood friend.

He was always planning to be
a famous poet, playwright.

One night, he got drunk

and admitted
he was spying on me,

but he was a terrible writer.

Even they told him.

When they read his reports,
they made no sense.

And that"s how it went.

Blecha gave me half of his pay
and everything was fine...

until they decided
that he was such a good spy

that they should promote him.

After a long time,
I met him again.

Hello?

This is your wife-to-be,
good morning.

I"m in the lobby,
I"m coming to your room.

No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no.

I"ll come down.

I said lunch, not breakfast.

Why are you scared for me
to visit you when I love you?

It"s not the best idea for you
to be in my room, you know that.

I"m coming up.

You"re gonna get yourself
into trouble.

Not me.

Prudence is not
your strong point.

This I have never heard.

Why do you say this?

Hmm.

You must understand

that I"m not marrying you
for your money.

I"m marrying you
because you tell me

you love me at first sight.

And because at first sight,
I love you.

You haven"t slept.

How can I sleep

when I"m thinking of our future?

Let"s go somewhere
for breakfast.

First...

tell me...

you love me.

I love you.

Is this why you marry me?

For love?

What other reason
could there be?

Sorry for my breath.

Tell me what you love most
about me.

Your sense of reality.

No, you must not love me
for my sense of reality.

You must love me for myself.

Tell me all the reasons
you love me.

Yeah, at breakfast.

No, no, no.

Now.

I cannot marry a man

who I"ve only just met

and risk my... happiness,
my life,

by making... the wrong choice.

I must be sure.

"You cannot trust Czech police
to understand anything.

Even in Czech, you must speak
clearly and slow and loud."

They are so stupid.

I love your wit.

My beauty.

- I love your beauty.
- My flesh.

I love your flesh.

You love when we make love.

Indescribably.

Clearly.

What means "indescribably,"
darling?

More than words can say.

It is much better fucking
than with American girls.

It"s the best.

Let"s go.

Breakfast!

Did you fuck anybody yet
in Czechoslovakia?

No, Olga, I haven"t,

though a few people here
may yet fuck me.

Do you know why they bug
these big hotels

and always above the bed?

Why?

They listen
to foreigners fucking.

They want to hear how women come
in different languages.

Zuckerman, teach me the words
that American girls say.

- Just a moment.
- Grazie.

Good morning, sir.

Excuse me.

Speak English.
I want him to understand.

I want him to hear
this insult in English.

- What"s going on?
- Tell him.

Tell him what you want.

Sir, the lady must show me
her identity card.

It is regulation.

Why is it a regulation?

Tell him.

Foreign guests must register
with a passport.

Czech citizen must show
an identity card

if they visit the room.

Except if the Czech
is a prostitute.

Then she doesn"t have to show
anything but money.

All right, here,
I am a prostitute.

Here.

Here are 50 kroner.

Leave us in peace.

What are you doing?

- Okay.
- Here.

Oh, here is a hundred.

I need an identity card
from madam, please.

You know very well who I am.

I must register your number
of identity card

in my ledger, madam.

Tell me, please,

why do you embarrass me
like that

in front
of my prospective husband?

Why do you try to make me
ashamed of my nationality

in front of the man I love?

Look at him,
look at how he dresses.

Look on his trousers.

He has buttons.

And not a little zipper
like you.

Why do you try to give
such a man second thoughts

about marrying a Czech woman?

I wish only to see
her identity card, sir.

I will return it immediately.

Olga, enough, enough.

Do you see him?

Now he"s disgusted.

Now he"s thinking,

"Where are the fine
old European manners?"

Madam, I will have to ask you
to remain here

while I report you for failing
to show your identity card.

Do that.
Do that.

And I will report you
for your breach of etiquette

toward a lady
in a civilized country.

We will see
which one they put in jail.

Calm down.

Show him the god damn card.

Go.

Call the police, please.

Call the authorities
this minute.

In the meantime, we are going
to have our breakfast.

Come my dear one, my darling.

Come.

- Sir?
- Yes?

There is message for you.

Thank you.

Right.

"Mr. Zuckerman,
I"m a Czech student

with a deep interest
in your writing.

I need to talk to you urgently.

Please leave word at the desk

when I can come.

Yours most respectfully,
Oldrich Hrobek."

No, I don"t like this table.

We will sit here.

I"m sorry, you can sit
over there by the window.

This table is reserved.

For breakfast?

That"s a fucking lie.

This honored guest
from abroad and I

have the right not to sit
where we do not like it.

Bon appétit.

Sorry.

So what now?

Olga, tell me,
what"s coming next.

I want eggs, poached eggs.

If I don"t eat, I will faint.

Tell me, what was wrong
with the first table?

Bugged.

Probably all are bugged.

Fuck it, I"m too weak.

Fuck the whole thing.

What happened to you last night?

Call the waiter, please.

I"m going to faint.

I"m feeling sick.

I"m going to the loo to be sick.

Mr. Zuckerman, please.

- Yeah?
- I have tried to reach you

just now in your room.

I am Oldrich Hrobek.

You have received my note?

Yes, just a minute ago.

You must not stay in Prague.

If you do not leave immediately,

the authorities will harm you.

What?

Who wants to harm me?

How do you...
How do you know that?

They are building a case.

I studied at Charles University.

They forbade me to write
my thesis about you.

They questioned my professor,
they questioned me.

Building what case?
I just... I just got here.

They told me
you are here for espionage.

What? For espionage?

You must leave today.

I"m an American citizen.

That doesn"t mean anything.

This is what the police
have told me.

Many, many arrests
are going to be made.

- Because of me?
- Including you.

Maybe they"re just
trying to scare you.

Mr. Zuckerman,
there is more.

If you go to the train station,

I"ll meet you in an hour.

It is at the top
on the main street,

just to the left.

Don"t trust anyone.

Are you sure about all this?

It"s an honor to meet you.

I"m sorry I interrupted,
but I am a silly fan.

Goodbye, sir.

What a country.

You cannot even throw up
in the loo

that someone does not write
a report about it.

Okay, I want
to have my breakfast now

with my international writer.

I"m hungry.

Why don"t we go somewhere else?

I want to talk to you
about something serious.

What will you have?

Poached eggs for two, coffee,

and a cigar for the gentleman.

Domestic or Cuban?

Cuban, of course.

Olga, I smoke a cigar
once every decade.

You must here.

I was in the wine bar last night

because you would not
be with me.

After some time,
two men come up to me

and start buying me drinks.

We drink and then they say,

"How would you like
to take a ride?"

Not to question me
but just to have a good time.

I thought, "Don" t be afraid.

Don"t show them
that you are afraid."

So I said,
"Let"s go, boys."

It slowly dawns on me
that something is wrong here.

They cannot even wait
for me to drink.

One of them takes out his prick

and tries to pull me down on it.

I feel him with my hand
and I say to him,

"But this is technically
impossible with this.

You could never come
with something so soft."

Ah... ah.

Huh?

Thank you.

Probably they got scared
they would be in for it.

If their little instruments
had worked,

it may have turned out badly.

Ah, you"re playing fire, Olga.

Light up.

Why am I smoking
so obediently at 8:30 a.m.?

I don"t feel like smoking
at all.

You must finish
the cigar, Zuckerman.

I will finish the cigar

if you give me the stories

that Sisovsk left behind.

I met your husband in New York.

He asked me to come get
the stories.

What?

What?

That swine.

Look, I didn"t want
to spring this on you

out of the blue, Olga,
but I have been advised

not the hang around
much longer in this country.

Wait, you, uh...

You met that monster
in New York?

Yes.

And his ingénue?

You have met her too?

Did she tell you
how much she suffers

from all the men at her feet?

Did he tell you with her
it"s never boring lovemaking

because she"s fragile
like a virgin?

So, this is why you are here.

Not for Kafka, but for him.

I"m taking those stories
to America.

So he can make money
out of his dead father.

So he can buy jewelry for her.

Now in New York too.

He left us all for that whore.

What"s she doing in New York?

Still playing
Nina in The Seagull?

- I wouldn"t think so.
- Why not?

Our leading Czech actress
who ages but never grows up.

Poor little star,
always in tears.

How much did he flatter you
to make you fall for it?

So that"s why you're here.

Because you took pity
on two homeless Czechs.

Take pity on me.

I am at home and it is worse.

I see that.

And you believe
all those stories he tells?

I did.

Only people like you
can believe them.

Let me have those manuscripts.

What good do they do
anybody here?

Olga...

The good of not being there

doing good for him
and this terrible actress.

You cannot even hear her
if you sit 10 rows back.

You can never hear her.

She"s stinking actress
who has ruined Chekhov

for Prague
for last hundred years.

For all her stinkin"
sensitive poses.

And now she will ruin Chekhov
for New York.

So... he wants to live off
of his dead father?

The hell with him.

Let him live off of his actress,

if anybody can even hear her.

Olga!

Olga!

Bolotka told me
half a million people

have been fired from their jobs.

I imagine Styron washing glasses

in a Penn Station barroom.

Susan Sontag wrapping buns
at a Broadway bakery.

I look at the filthy floor
and I see myself sweeping it.

I"m sorry I'm late, Rudolf.

Something happened.
I was followed.

I... I shook him
before I got here.

I hope I wasn"t wrong
to come here anyway.

What happened?

A student came to visit me
at the hotel.

He gave me this note.

He was terrified,

he was whispering
that I was in danger,

that he and his professor
were questioned by the police.

And he asked me to meet him.

It occurred to me
that he might also be a cop,

but then I saw him
getting arrested

at the train station.

They were only frightening him
and his teacher.

If so, they succeeded

and they scared
the shit out of me too.

This is to calm down
and warm up.

It"s the law of power,

the spreading
of general distrust.

The basic techniques
of adjusting people.

But they cannot touch you.

Well, if you"re right,

then by coming to my hotel

the student made things
much worse for himself

and for his teacher too.

I can"t say.

Both options could be true.

He could be a provocateur
and his arrest

maybe just play acting for you.

Or he can be a naive student.

Jesus Christ.

Mm!

Don"t be tender
about his martyr complex.

They have to let
the boy go anyway.

You know, of course
the hotel clerk is a cop.

Everyone is in that hotel.

But the police
are like literary critics.

The little they see
they get mostly wrong.

And our literary criticism
is police criticism.

So, what...

So we"re not gonna do anything
about this warning?

I"m relying on you.

Rudolf,
when you come to New York,

I"ll see that you're
not mugged in Central Park

by going to take a leak
at 3:00 a.m.

I expect the same consideration
from you here.

I mean, am I in danger?

Forget the student, Nathan.

Anything you want
to see in Prague,

anything you want to do
in Prague,

anyone you want to fuck
in Prague,

you come to me
and I"ll arrange it.

You know, I hesitate
to say Prague is gay,

but sometimes these days
could be pretty amusing.

Do you think you can find out
where I can see Olga tonight?

Okay.

Hello, Olga.

This is my almost fiancé,

but he can only write about sex.

He is an American agent
with no license to fuck.

Olga, can I...
Can I ask you to dance?

I mean, if your friends
don"t mind.

If you keep shouting
that I"m an agent,

I"m gonna wake up
in jail tomorrow.

If you don"t want
to wake up with me,

then you wake up in a jail.

Okay, let"s both stop
playing games, okay?

Why do you care
about those stories so much?

Because I"m a foolish American.

I don"t even know
if the stories are any good.

So?

So maybe I just want
to save something

from the Old World.

I see.

You want to be a hero.

No, I really don"t.

So you want to succeed?

Yes, yes, of course I do.

Succeed then.

Wait, wait.

Olga, wait.

Listen.

All right, maybe there is
something more to it, okay?

Maybe I...

Maybe I feel like I have a debt.

You have a weak spot
for the persecuted.

Yes, I do.

So you have a hang-up

that you haven"t
suffered enough.

I"m not the one to nurse you
through your hang-ups.

All right.

Prague fascinated me.

After one day,
it seemed to me a city

that I"d known all my life.

This is the city I imagined
during the war"s worst years,

when as a nine-year-old
Hebrew school student

I would solicit
for the Jewish National Fund.

This is the city I imagined
the Jews should acquire one day.

A city with
soot-blackened bridges,

shadowy, cramped streets,

where one would hear
endless stories being told.

Funny tales and anxious stories
of suffering and flight.

Stories of fantastic endurance

and of pitiful collapse.

I thought you would show up.

Come in.

Take off your coat.

It"s robe day today.

Do you want to join?

Uh, thank you but no.

Uh, I came to see you.

Come in.

You"re afraid to marry
an alcoholic.

I would love you so much
I wouldn"t drink.

And you"d give me
the stories as your dowry.

Maybe.

Where are the stories?

Oh, I don"t know.

Sisovsk left them with you.

And when his mother came
to try to get them,

you showed her photographs
of his mistresses.

Oh, poor mother.

She didn"t like them very much.

They were pictures
of their cunts.

Hm.

Do you think they were
so different from mine?

Do you think theirs
were prettier?

Look.

Theirs were exactly the same.

You have the stories here.

Let"s go to the American Embassy

and get married.

And then you"ll give me
the stories.

More than likely.

Mm, I want them now.

I"m asking you again.

What are you getting out of it?

A headache and a look
under your robe.

So you"re doing it
for idealistic reasons.

You do it for literature.

For altruism.

You are a great American,
great humanitarian.

I"ll give you $10,000.

Hm.

I could use $10,000.

Mm-hm.

But there is no amount of money
you could give me.

And you don"t care
about literature.

I love literature,
but not as much as I love

to keep these things
from Sisovsk.

Do you really think
that I"m going to give you

the stories
so he can keep her in jewels?

You really think
that in New York

he"s gonna publish the stories

under his father"s name?

- Why shouldn"t he?
- Zuckerman.

If you would make as great
a sacrifice for literature

as you expect of me,

we would be married
20 minutes already.

Okay.

$15,000.

Oh, do you find me
so unattractive?

Wow.

You are an impressive
character, Olga.

In your own way,
you are fighting to live.

Look, dear one.

You want a ticket
out of Czechoslovakia.

Mm.

Maybe I want you, dear one.

What if I get someone
to marry you?

Am I so terrible
that I can only marry

one of your queer friends?

Fuck.

How do I wrest
these stories from you?

Olga, just... just tell me.

Is whatever Sisovsk did
so terrible

that his dead father
must suffer too?

Oh, believe me.

When the stories are published
without his name,

the father will suffer more.

Okay, suppose
that doesn"t happen.

Suppose I make that impossible.

You will outtrick Zdenek?

I will contact
The New York Times

and I will tell them
the whole story.

So that"s what
you get out of it.

That"s your idealism.

That marvelous Zuckerman

brings from behind
the Iron Curtain

200 unpublished Yiddish stories

written by a victim
of a Nazi bullet.

You will be a hero
to all of the free world.

On top of your
millions of dollars

and millions of girls,

you will win the American Prize
for Idealism about Literature.

And what will happen to me?

You don"t know.

I"ll tell you.

I will go to prison
for smuggling a manuscript

to the West.

They won"t know that the stories
came through you.

You get the idealism prize.

He gets the royalties.

She gets the jewelry.

And I get seven years
for the fuckin" sake

of literature.

You don"t have to give me money.

You don"t have to find a queer
to be my husband.

You don"t even have to fuck me

if I am such a revolting woman.

To fuck and to be fucked

is the only freedom
left in this country.

He can even print the story
in his own name,

your friend Sisovsk.

No.

I will never let that happen.

The hell with him,
the hell with everything.

He will flourish,
thanks to his dead father.

So will she.

And in return, I want nothing.

Only that when he asks,

"How much
did you have to give her?

How much money
and how many fucks?"

Tell him the truth.

Room 26, please.

Mr. Zuckerman.

26.

- Here you go.
- Thank you.

- Take care.
- Sir?

Hello, sir?

Sir?

Your coat.

What?

Oh, thank you.

- Goodbye.
- Bye.

Hey!

Hey, what is going on?

You can"t just unlock
the door yourself.

The gentlemen wish to examine
your belongings, sir.

Why?

They say somebody
has mislaid something

that you may have by mistake.

Gentlemen, my belongings
are none of your business.

I am afraid you are wrong.

That is precisely
their business.

And you, what"s your business?

I merely work
at the reception desk.

It is not just intellectuals
who can be sent to the mines.

I demand to call
the U.S. Embassy.

You"d better
pack your bags, sir.

You will be driven
to the airport.

And put on the next flight
from Prague.

You are no longer welcome
in Czechoslovakia.

I want to speak
to the American Ambassador.

You can"t confiscate
my belongings

and there are no grounds
to expel me.

Sir.

These two gentlemen
have no trouble believing

that what they do
is right and necessary.

Brutally necessary.

I"m afraid
that any sort of delay

will cause them
to be much less lenient

than you would like.

Look.

That box contains stories
written by somebody

who"s been dead
for over 30 years.

It"s fiction from a world
that no longer even exists.

It is no possible threat
to anyone.

There is nothing a clerk
in a Prague hotel

can do for any writer,
living or dead.

Okay, for the third time,

I demand to speak
to the Embassy.

Sir, if you don"t
immediately pack your bags

and prepare to leave,

you will be taken to jail.

Well, how do I know you won"t
just take me to jail anyway?

I suppose you will have
to trust the gentlemen.

Ah, Mr. Zuckerman.

Will you be paying
by cash or check?

By check.

I trust everything was all right

and that your stay with us
was satisfactory.

Are you fucking kidding me?

Jesus.

Hey, hey, that is not necessary.

Hey.

What are you doing?

Hello, my suitcase?

Are you gonna put my bags
in the car, please?

Novak, Hiyam Novak.

Do you know Betty MacDonald?

Um, I... I don"t.

You don"t?

No.

You don"t know
Miss Betty MacDonald?

Well, now I"m guilty
of conspiring

against the Czech people
with somebody

named Betty MacDonald.

I"m sorry, I don't...
I don"t know her.

But she"s the author
of The Egg and I.

Ah.

Yes, uh, about, uh,
a farm, wasn"t it?

Yeah.

I haven"t read that
since I was a school boy.

But it is a masterpiece.

Ah.

Well, I can"t say
it"s considered

a masterpiece in America.

I"d be surprised
if anybody in America under 30

has even heard of The Egg and I.

I cannot believe it.

Well, it"s true.

It"s, uh...

Is this the way to the airport?

There is no paranoia here
about writers.

I didn"t say that there was.

I am a writer.

A successful writer.

Nobody is paranoid about me.

Ours is the most literate
country in Europe.

Our writers are loved.

The country looks to them
for moral leadership.

I am the Minister of Culture.

Well, it"s very kind of you,
Mr. Minister,

to see me out personally,
but, um...

This is the road to the airport?

Frankly, I don"t recognize...

You should have taken
the time to come see me

when you first arrived.

We would understand
that the ordinary Czech citizen

is nothing like
the sort of people

you have chosen to meet.

He does not behave like them

and he does not admire them.

Who are they?

Sexual perverts.

Alienated neurotics.

Bitter egomaniacs.

They seem to you courageous?

You find it thrilling,

the price they pay
for their great art?

At least their blessed Kafka
knew he was a misfit.

But these people,
incorrigible deviants.

Do you know what?

Comrade Brezhnev arranged
for our great reform leader

Dubcek in "68.

Brezhnev sent thousands
of troops to Prague

to bring Dubcek
back to his senses.

Get out.

What?

Hey!

Hey, get your hands off.

Wait, wait, wait.

I have committed no crime.

You have committed
several crimes,

each punishable by sentences
of up to 20 years in jail.

I... I demand right now
that you take me

to the American Embassy.

Let me tell you what
Brezhnev told Mr. Dubcek

that Mr. Bolotka
neglected to say

while elucidating on the size
of his sexual organ.

One, he would deport

our Czechoslovakian
intelligentsia

en masse to Siberia.

Two, he would turn
Czechoslovakia

into a Soviet republic.

Three, he would make Russian

the official language
in schools.

In 20 years,
nobody would even remember

that such a country
as Czechoslovakia

had ever existed.

Those Czechs
who inflamed the anger

of our mighty neighbor
are not patriots,

they are the enemy!

There is nothing praiseworthy
about them.

Like when your lesbian whore
opened her legs,

and for an American writer
it represents

the authentic Czech experience.

Real heroes distinguish between

what is possible
in a little country

and what is just a stupid,
maniacal delusion.

The true Czech spirit
is represented

in people who know
how to submit decently

to their historical misfortune.

These are the people
to whom we owe

the survival
of our beloved land.

Not to alienated, degenerate,
egomaniacal artists.

Suddenly, you are scared,
Mr. Zuckerman.

Aren"t you?

Let"s go.

Whoa-whoa.

Whoa. Whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa.

Whoa-whoa-whoa, hey, hey, hey.

Come on.
Let... let go of me!

Let me go!

You have been placed
on Swissair to Geneva.

And from there to New York.

A keepsake.

In case you"re bored
on your flight.

I was not arrested.

I will not be tried,
convicted, or jailed.

Yet it makes you furious
to be thrown out

once the fear
has begun to subside.

I wanted to see Kafka"s city,

and by coincidence
I found something

more important.

I can"t stop thinking
about this country

where there"s no nonsense
about purity and goodness,

where the division between
the heroic and the perverse

is not that easy to discern.

Where every sort of repression

ferments a parody of freedom

and the suffering
of their historical misfortune

engenders in its victims

these bizarre forms
of human despair.

I don"t know
if my theatrical friend Olga

changed her mind
and called the cops

or if they called for her.

Worst of all, I"ve lost that
astonishingly real candy box

stuffed with stories.

Another Jewish writer
who might have been

is not going to be.

Another assault upon
a world of significance,

degenerating into
a personal fiasco.

And this time,
in a record 48 hours.

Hi, I"m looking for Eva.

Eva?

She is over there.

Thank you.

Excuse me,

Mr. Writer.

Hello, Eva.

I tried calling Sisovsk,

but he"s not answering
his phone.

Is he in New York?

I don"t know where he is.

You don"t know?

He"s taken the big American road
to success now.

Is he?

Well, he didn"t
tell me anything.

I"d really like to talk to him.

I"ve... I've just returned
from Prague.

Oh.

Now you are full of Prague.

Full of compassion.

I wasn"t successful.

You really went there
for those stories?

Mm-hm.

Zdenek begged everyone for that,

but you are the only one
who obliged.

You are naive.

So where is he?

In California.

In Hollywood.

Huh.

Where can I find him there?

I don"t know, all I know
is that he is gone.

And you stay here on your own.

It"s better this way.

Everybody has what they want.

Zdenek does, I do,
and so do you.

Really?

Do I?

What you have is much better
than Zdenek"s father's stories.

Now you have one of your own.

You have your own adventure
in Prague.

Tomorrow you will sit
at your beautiful desk,

you will start making notes,

and your powerful masterpiece

will soon appear
on the Best Seller list.

You have your great book
and I have my dresses.

Please excuse me,
I have customers.

Good luck with
your new marvelous story,

Mr. Zuckerman.

May I see the gentleman"s
papers, please?

Ah, yes, Nathan Zuckerman.

The Zionist agent.

An honor to have
entertained you here, sir.

Now back to the little world
around the corner, huh?

Making love, you"re in my mind

How soon will you be mine

Come to me, I"ll comfort you

Please be open tonight

Flesh and blood is what I give

You"ll find me unprepared

There is a bird of prey at night

Come lie with us in bed

River of Christ

I just take what must be mine

Surrender to our free fall

We will fly

Fly

River of Christ

What you see is not your fault

Not your fault

May this be our last song
when we fall

Night alone is not to be

I"ll take your beating heart

Change it into what will become

My fear, my flesh and blood

I"ll take
the bird of prey tonight

And show it how to fly

River of Christ

I"ll just take what must be mine

Surrender to our free fall

We will fly

River of Christ

What you see is not your fault

Not your fault

May this be our last song
when we fall