Original subtitles

[music playing]

ANTONIO: My name is Antonio.

I was born in Italy in a small town in the south.

But that's not important.

I could have been more anywhere and ended up

here for any number of reasons.

In any case, if I'm here, there's a reason.

Even if at first, I thought it was just for my music.

I graduated in clarinet.

And after a few years, I made it to Czechoslovakia,

dreaming of playing for one of the biggest symphony

orchestras of Central Europe.

The first thing that struck me when I got to Prague

was the light.

So different from what I was used to, where I came from,

even the shadows were illuminated.

The sunlight flooded through everything, even people's

grief, hopes, and dreams.

The second thing was the language.

It took me a while to get used to it.

All those consonants, those strange sounds.

But considering what I do, all those different notes.

In the end, I adjusted.

And the way they treated music gently, almost timid,

full of melancholy that suddenly burst

into the most unbridled passion that takes you by surprise.

But what's really struck me more than anything else was her.

[applause]

[music playing]

Move it!

[speaks German]

[gun firing]

[music playing]

[speaks German]

Antonio Salamone.

[laughs]

Where am I?

What's your name?

Antonio.

Antonio.

Everything is OK.

Trust me.

I am Hans.

Hans Krása.

Welcome to Terezín.

What is this place?

The new home that the Germans have so generously given us.

They call it an autonomous zone for Jewish settlement.

But it's just a stupid ghetto they have put us in.

We are all in the same boat, Antonio.

Nobody wants to hurt you.

Martina, I have to find her.

Martina?

Who is Martina?

She-- she was with me.

Good.

You will see her soon.

What's the first night here like?

The same as every other night you will spend in Terezín.

[music playing]

Every member of the SS is your superior.

And you will address them as Herr Kommandant.

If you have not yet been assigned a job,

you soon will be at the job commando.

Each prisoner must be clean in order

and present every day for roll call

at the scheduled time with no exceptions of any kind.

During working hours, it's forbidden to smoke or read.

It is strictly forbidden to bring men in the rooms.

Boast will be delivered or sent only when it's being checked.

It is forbidden to write anything about the ghetto.

Abbreviations and underlining are forbidden.

Curfew is at 8:00 PM.

All streets must be clear.

Any breach of regulations will be severely punished.

Now, leave.

I said leave.

Aren't those used for corpses?

[speaks German]

[speaks German]

Antonio Salamone.

Your transport number?

Wow.

What do you do?

Musicians, both of us.

Do you live alone or with relatives?

Alone.

You're Italian?

Yes.

And where are your parents?

In Italy.

I hope.

I came here alone to study and play music.

Do you have children?

No.

[speaks German]

But that's my job.

I play music.

What does your father do?

He's a teacher.

He works in a school.

Ruzickova.

You're Jewish.

You too, Salamone?

No.

I mean yes.

In part.

My father and my grandfather.

[speaks German]

Do you wish to leave the city?

Go to Italy perhaps?

I don't think so.

You don't think so?

No.

Prague is our home.

Take these-- and sign.

ANTONIO: I hereby certify the receipt of a Jewish star.

I am aware of the decree regulating

the display of the Jewish star.

I am also aware that I am not allowed to leave my domicile

without authorization.

I will endeavor to look after and handle

this identification with care.

Now, you're a farmer.

[speaks German]

I have to say I definitely worked less hard

in the kitchens but I prefer breathing this fresh air

and enjoying the scenery.

Thanks.

I ache all over.

I'm not used to this.

HANS KRASA: What did you do before you came here?

Played music.

Clarinet.

I'm a musician too.

[speaks German]

They send us all to the fields--

writers, painters, musicians.

If you want to deprive people of their freedom and dignity,

start by destroying their culture.

But they won't succeed.

Are you sure?

As sure as the air we breathe and the music

we play and continue to play in our hearts.

You are not Czech?

No.

I'm Italian.

Italian.

How did you end up here?

My fiancé is Czech.

They took us together in Prague.

She she's here too.

Martina?

You remember.

I have a good memory.

What about you?

I was born in Prague.

And what do you play?

Violin.

A little piano.

A little better.

But I'm a composer.

Oh, wonderful.

A creator.

HANS KRASA: So are you, you know?

You give life to the scribblings that composers put on paper.

Sir, with all due respect, there is

no possible way the dormitory--

No excuses, Belstein.

It must be done.

And that's the end of it.

What is a room for 100 Jews?

There's room for hundreds more.

And as we care about the situation here,

our best architects are planning how to use the attics.

The attics?

Don't be downhearted, Belstein.

Instead, help us understand how we can better

the situation in general.

Indeed.

Conditions here are not--

well-- in other words, could you perhaps consider

a few more hours of diversion?

What do you mean exactly?

Maybe music.

Perhaps small performances.

Here in Terezín, there is an incredible concentration

of artists, musicians, writers.

The easiest thing would simply be to let

them do what they do best.

I'll consider it.

For now, we only set up your department for free time.

Then we can explain in detail to Haindl

what you want to do exactly.

But remember, if any of these interferes with the labor

in the ghetto, every single activity

will be stopped immediately.

You can go now.

[speaks German]

Friedl Brandeis.

This is Martina Ruzickova.

She will help you with the children.

So I won't have to listen to your whining.

Friedl Brandeis will explain your duties in detail.

But remember that schoolwork is strictly forbidden.

Do you understand?

Yes, I understand.

Good.

Somebody find a bed for this woman.

She'll be sleeping here from now on.

Don't worry.

She seems awful at first.

But then you realize she's even worse.

I've noticed.

Come.

Come.

How long have you been here?

Not long.

But I don't remember when I arrived.

So you must be the second type then?

What do you mean?

There are two kinds of people here in Terezín.

Those who count the days the hours

even the minutes from the moment they arrived

and those who lose all sense of time,

trying to forget all the rest.

Here, you can stay here next to Monika.

[music playing]

Do you like children?

Yes.

Very much.

Have you any of your own?

No.

Well, you'll have quite a few here.

Their parents work during the day

so it's our job to keep an eye on their children.

But what do we do all day if practically

everything is forbidden?

Almost everything.

You'll see.

There is always a way.

So tell me about yourself.

Where do you come from?

What do you do?

I'm from Prague.

I'm a violinist.

Oh, that's wonderful.

Did you come here alone?

No.

With Antonio.

He's a musician too.

We live together.

He knew what was happening.

Wanted to escape.

But I-- I don't even know where he is.

Don't worry.

I also came here with my husband, Baba.

He took us almost a month before we met.

But we met.

If Antonio is here in the ghetto, you will find him.

[speaks German]

[speaks German]

I bet it's cooler in there than out here.

And easy to have a smoke in peace

[music playing]

What's a piano doing here?

What's left over piano?

This is the one thing I just cannot understand.

Too many deaths.

They take the bodies to the crematorium

in tractors instead of carts.

Why?

We are the only vehicles allowed here.

They use them to transport tools,

bricks, foods, everything for those still alive.

The real world is upside down here in Terezín.

Martina?

She's not alone?

[music playing]

Just smile.

Smile.

At least, you know she's alive.

Now, let's show Martina how good you all are.

Hey, children, children.

Calm down everyone.

You know this is a game we have to play in silence.

Now they draw the pictures, and then you color them in.

Despite their age, they understand more

than we could ever imagine.

They know they have to be on the alert without making any sound.

I wish I had their self-control.

[speaks German]

May I have your attention please?

Can our musicians come here?

Please.

I have some good news for you.

Herbert Schmitt has given you permission to play

twice a week, also in a group.

Yes.

You will have the privilege to be supervised

by maestro Rafael Schachter here whom some of you

must surely know.

Yes but what about our instruments?

Well, Jakob has assured me that he'll take care of that.

I found a baby grand piano in a barn.

It's a bit beaten up but I think if Herbert

Schmitt allows me to bring it here, I can make it play again.

I'll make a request, Maestro Ullmann.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Pleased to see you again, Maestro Schachter.

The pleasure is all mine, Frederick.

I had this cello with me since I was 11.

I'd be able to recognize it with my eyes closed even

just by the sound it makes.

Wherever I go, it goes.

I broke it into pieces before they deported me.

Well, piano, cello.

We are off to a good start.

As soon as we have more instruments and a place

to play, you'll be informed.

Good night.

Before we go, would you allow me to greet my musicians?

As you wish.

Maestro.

Nice to meet you, maestro.

Maestro, do you remember me?

Should I?

[violin playing]

Oh, here you are.

Ms. Ruzickova spoke about you, and I said to myself,

let's go and meet the fiancée of the new violinist of the Prague

Chamber Orchestra.

So it went well?

Yes.

Did you have any doubts?

None at all maestro.

After a few seconds, I denied.

Thank you.

Martina told me that you came here for music.

How are you finding Prague?

I traveled for a few months around Europe and stopped here.

It seemed like the best place for me to grow.

The clarinetist.

Yes, now, I remember.

Maestro, I imagine you'll speak with the other musicians

in the ghetto, right?

Yes.

Martina is here.

If you see her, please just tell her I'm alive and well.

I will, without a doubt.

Thank you.

Look around.

Have you ever seen them like this?

It seems like the beginning of something

new, something special.

Can I ask you a personal question?

Sure.

It's a good moment.

I wasn't spying, but I saw your composing something.

What's Brundibár?

It's an opera written for children

but it hides something bigger than that.

It's a victory over tyranny, at least musically.

It was performed for the first time in the Jewish orphanage

in Prague.

But I was already here.

Otto Freudenthal, the director, got the piano part for me.

Now, I'm reconstructing the whole piece.

Hans, if I can help you in any way,

I'd be happy to, even just finding paper for you

to scribble on.

[music playing]

How far along are we with the lists?

They should be complete, sir.

Should be?

[music playing]

Have you been careful not to break up families?

If one goes, they all go.

And they accuse us of not being compassionate, huh?

Certainly, Herr Kommandant.

Maestro Krása, welcome to Bokassa, as we all call it.

Please.

Thank you.

These are the offices where manage our lives.

We deal with the food distribution,

childcare, sleeping quarters and the postal service.

But recently, we've added another office

with department of free time.

What at first appeared to be a minor concession

has become an important issue to coordinate.

You are here because I would like your help.

I need your expertise to run the music section.

Considering how many distinguished colleagues there

are here in Terezín, I'm flattered.

Precisely because of the abundance of musicians here,

I don't doubt your ability to create

a program that can improve the biggest number possible.

Yes.

Good.

Good.

Nobody's playing yet but one can already feel the effect.

Anyway, I'd like to inform you that I will

sort it out with Commander Schmitt

to excuse you from hard labor.

I try to do the same gradually to everyone

involved in the project.

May I suggest something now?

Certainly.

Maybe we could start with The Bartered Bride

by our very own Smetana or Puccini's

Tosca or Bizet's Carmen.

If we eliminate the acting parts,

we could perform one of these pieces easily.

Of course, the only problem would be with the chorus.

Excellent suggestions, maestro.

But if you don't mind my saying so,

we'd also like to perform your Brundibár.

I have my sources.

I'll be delighted.

I'm going to die.

I just haven't worked out if it'll be from hunger

or this revolting food.

The food is the least of our worries.

Karl told me they're preparing new lists.

The lists?

The only list I like is the one from Don Giovanni-- women.

Even though he be up to it, it's tired and hungry as I am.

Who does the lists?

The Germans?

Like hell.

They are carrying a lot.

They gave the job to the council.

And if the council thinks you are important, voila,

you're not on the list.

You work for the council?

How important are you?

Extremely.

I'm a famous painter.

King of the graphic office.

I create posters and billboards for the events that

brighten the baths of Terezín.

I'm untouchable.

Every one wants to stay here in Terezín.

The model ghetto of scientists, philosophers, and artists.

Nobody wants to stay here, idiot.

Everyone just wants to avoid being sent to their deaths.

And absolutely no one is truly untouchable.

Only those German swine.

Did you know the walls of Terezín

were designed by Italian engineers?

I see that's why you want to stay here, right?

You feel a bit at home.

Peter, aren't you scared?

Me?

Of course I am.

But do you think the death will change his mind if he

sees that you worry about it?

No.

Just smile.

Have a laugh.

Your time will come sooner or later, no matter what.

Yours will come.

And you won't even notice.

How disgusting is this?

Well--

Welcome.

Welcome, everyone.

Take a seat, please.

Before we begin, allow me a few words.

Playing music is a very important conversation.

And staying this way depends on everyone's behavior.

The commander has been categorical.

At the slightest problem, any artistic initiative

will be abolished.

You must stick to the rules, every single one.

Follow them.

And make sure they are followed, because any violation

will cost us a suspension of any activity

for at least six weeks.

So my friends, let's try not to lose this privilege.

OK?

Another thing before we begin--

here you are.

our Italian clarinetist.

Ladies and gentlemen, I believe we

should celebrate this moment.

I've found some movements of a piece by Shostakovich.

Need I say more?

Let's begin.

[orchestra playing]

Good.

Friedl Brandeis.

This is Walter Haizinger.

He takes care of the children in the other block.

Now that Her Schmitt has allowed some liberties,

it would be useful for the two of you to talk.

Pleased to meet you.

Pleased to meet you.

How peaceful it is here.

Wish I could say the same.

You know, it's not always like this.

There are days when they fight and they scream and they shout.

But I think it's natural at their age.

Yeah.

Even though there is nothing natural about anything here.

You know, in the last few weeks, we

were-- we have been able to organize a school of sorts

and a few professors and teachers in Terezín

have offered to give a few lessons now that we can.

Yes.

It's very good for the children but also for the adults.

Yes.

Let me show you something.

Thanks.

They are good.

Aren't they?

They tell us so much.

The children, they draw fear on the paper

and process it without filter in their own way.

You are doing a fantastic job here.

I work with the children in room one.

There are little older though.

So the minute they can, they wrestle and they play football.

Actually, we play football and we wrestle.

Anyway , I want to involve you in something important.

We cannot lose any of this.

[music playing]

Come now.

Chins up.

You'll see that in time, our orchestra will grow.

Meanwhile, with our music, in our own way,

we'll pray for those who are no longer with us.

Ready?

We'll start from number five.

[vocalizing]

I like it.

Why?

You'll wake them all.

[laughter]

You seem a bit too cheerful tonight, my friend.

Is it because we played well?

Or is there something else?

Yeah, I spoke to Martina.

She's taking care of the children.

She says it's very important work.

And that she's not doing badly so--

Children?

Hans, children?

Brundibár?

Martinez says they draw really well and some of them can sing.

Oh, really?

Yes.

She mentioned the Danish men in another group.

He plays the trombone.

She'd like to talk with Schachter for the orchestra.

Oh, children.

Now that is a good idea.

But tomorrow, you must help me with something else.

We have to meet Frantisek Zelenka.

Who is he?

My dear Italian, he's the designer

of the National Theater.

I know he's here in Terezín.

Right now, we need him too.

Of course.

We'll find him.

We always have to prepare new spaces, Belstein.

But I'm not the one who's making history.

If Berlin sends the orders, I have to obey them.

Do you understand what I'm saying?

More or less.

It means that both of us must answer to an uncompromising

order of things.

Our excuses for not carrying them out mean nothing.

However, unreasonable they may seem.

Well, here is your silver diversion, Belstein.

As I was saying, if the fear orders, you and I are we.

Therefore, the council must draw up

a new list for transfers fast.

Am I making myself clear?

Good.

And what about the recreational activities?

Tell me.

Tell me.

Are your people content?

Everyone appreciates your generosity.

[speaks German] Always the fierce.

Of course, sir.

It's incredible how Hitler has so

generously given you a city, how the Reich

helps you to manage it.

Wouldn't you agree, Belstein?

Now, nothing is certain.

And this may not happen.

So keep this information to yourself.

There is a remote possibility that we

will have a visit from the International Red Cross

and the heads of the SS.

I repeat.

Nothing is certain.

But in order not to be caught unprepared,

I advise you to intensify activities

for any possible performances to entertain our esteemed guests.

You are allowed to temporarily relieve

the artists involved in this performance from their labor.

And also, more people can join the rehearsals

so we all professionals get used to some sort of audience.

Thank you, sir.

You're right to be thankful.

You should always be.

[music playing]

You made it.

You'll see it's worth it.

My boys have been doing it for a while now.

One copy only.

Once a week.

We read it together every Friday evening.

It's practically like a sacred event.

Then we hand it over to the other dorms.

Jedem, who chose the title?

Petra Gantz, who does all the editing.

He chooses the drawings, the poems, the stories.

But they all contribute and they all are proud of it.

You can see it in their eyes.

They feel alive knowing they're doing something important.

It's wonderful.

I'm speechless.

I did now.

And show it to Friedl Brandeis.

I'd like to include some of the drawings

done by your younger artists.

I've already spoken to Petra.

Go now.

Be careful.

Halt!

Who goes there?

Salamone.

[speaks German]

The Italian Jew.

Where are you off to in such a hurry?

Rehearsals, Herr Kommandant

Rehearsals?

Rehearsals.

What's in the case?

A weapon?

A clarinet, Herr Kommandant.

Good.

Good.

Open it and play.

Play something German.

Something really German.

But if you don't play well--

[clarinet playing]

Johannes Brahms born in Hamburg like me.

Sonata for Clarinet and Piano.

Opus 120 number 1.

Yes, Brahms loved Italy.

He came eight times--

Keep going.

Don't talk.

Play.

[speaks German]

[clarinet playing]

As promised, I've been able to increase our number

of musicians, including Irgun Ladettes from the Prague

Philharmonic Orchestra and Paul Rabinowitz,

a young Danish musician.

Good.

Let's begin.

As you know the composer of the piece,

we are going to perform is here with us.

So don't make me look bad.

Maestro, Baumann, I'm sorry.

For this piece, you'll be a spectator.

[orchestra playing]

Maestro, didn't you like how we played?

Music has nothing to do with it.

I hate this hypocrisy.

This is all a farce.

The music, the concerts, the performances.

It's all part of Terezín's deception.

They want it to look like a model place

where we all live a normal life.

But it's all a sham.

And wait, we got the players on a stage.

You know it's true.

Maestro, all I know is that music is the most

important thing we have.

And I also know that it's keeping us alive.

Those playing.

Those listening.

They think they're using us.

They don't know that they've given us something

that makes us stronger.

I know, Antonio.

I know.

I'd like you to tell the musician that sooner or later I

want to do Verdi's Requiem.

Verdi's Requiem?

Mm-hmm.

I'm here for Friedl Brandeis.

I'm sorry.

I don't know where she is.

That's why I'm here.

She has been transferred east.

She asked to be as soon as her husband was deported.

She wanted to be with him.

She only stayed here for them.

She was waiting for someone she could trust.

And that someone came.

Now you are in charge of the children.

Hey, come on.

Come here.

[violin playing]

And the house of Brundibár reports are coming around.

I've got a lot of ideas.

Hans showed me some of the children's drawings.

And they've spurred my imagination.

Those children have spurred everyone.

Just wait till you see Zelinka sets.

They are truly little artists.

I'm sure it will be a great performance.

We should also prepare--

Belstein!

I've been waiting for you.

Her Schmitt is still awaiting your new list.

Of course, Herr Kommandant.

They are almost ready.

He wants them right away.

Get to it instead of strolling about the place.

Jakob, are there going to be new transfers?

Yes, you heard it.

But I'll always try to delay it.

Truth is, the list are not ready yet.

Keep your mind on your concert, hands.

[music playing]

CHILDREN (SINGING): We've won a victory over the tyrant mean.

Sound trumpets, beat your drums, and show us your esteem.

We've won a victory, since we were not fearful.

Since we were not tearful.

Because we marched along, singing a happy song,

bright, joyful, and cheerful.

My darling little friends, our opera now ends.

It's getting very late.

You must go home.

But wait.

Don't say goodnight as yet.

We'll send them on their way when we have sung our song

once more with you today.

CHILDREN (SINGING): We've won a victory over the tyrant mean.

Sound trumpets, beat your drums, and show us your esteem.

We've won a victory, since we were not fearful.

Since we were not tearful.

Because we marched along, singing a happy song,

bright, joyful, and cheerful.

He who loves his dad, mother and native land,

who wants the tyrant's end.

Join us hand in hand.

And be our welcome friend!

[applause]

And then Schoenberg and Zemlinsky

naturally, I love them.

Alban Berg as well.

His use of 12-tone system is pure genius.

I would love to play a Schubert, Brahms.

Forbidding us to play the works of German composers,

truly stupid.

You sully our roots.

I'd say we're not to play Brahms in Prague.

Gentlemen, gentlemen.

It's confirmed.

The International Red Cross is going to visit us.

Given the importance of the visit,

the commander has asked us to prepare

something prestigious, suitable for the circumstances.

And nothing else?

Even a real stage will be put up

in the main square for the occasion to get

you all prepared adequately.

Every artist involved will be relieved from their jobs.

And when's this visit happening?

I wasn't told the exact date, but I know

it will be in a few months.

That's all.

I don't want to waste your time.

Belstein?

Yes?

Which will come first the train with the Red

Cross or ours going east?

So any suggestions about the piece

to prepare for this visit?

No?

I've got an idea.

I received the list of women to be deported.

Your name is on it.

Listen, perhaps I could--

there is a category of prisoners considered indispensable.

If I could change your position and put you among them--

Why would you do that?

The children--

I mean, I don't want to lose another tutor

in such a short time.

So-- I think--

I think that--

[German singing]

I have to do something.

I have to.

[German singing]

The commander promised they get here sooner or later.

Belstein, may I?

Of course.

Oh, what a beauty.

Oh, it is.

Oh, wait a second.

It's Zalud.

Pavel Zalud from Terezín.

From here?

Yes.

It was a small family factory.

They made musical instruments until recently.

What a melancholy homecoming.

Let's hope we too can go home.

Yes.

[speaks German]

This is not acceptable.

There is not a single writer, painter, musician or even

a journalist on these lists.

These are all wrong.

I followed the order--

Silence.

The Fuhrer is right when he says that no one

can blame us for sending you off to the swamps

of Eastern Europe.

The scheming Jewish solidarity of such

the real European solidarity.

Hitler himself said it on New Year's Eve.

You can only deport workmen instead of your artist friends.

This ghetto has to be done up smarten up, reorganized.

Do you understand?

Or would you rather do it yourself, Mr. Belstein?

As an immediate consequence of your mistake, some musicians--

will be called back for hard labor.

Now leave.

It's been a long time since I've seen real bats.

A miracle of the Red Cross.

Antonio, someone wants to speak with you.

I have a message from Martina.

Is she OK?

Yes.

I think so.

She'll be waiting for you in the music room tonight.

- Tonight? - Yes.

Tonight.

I told you.

Seeing you at rehearsals without impressing you all the time.

Look at me now.

Tight, please.

Tighter.

Don't let me go.

I want to you all, my love.

I want you all.

It will be easier to bear if we could be together.

Antonio.

As many of you already know, I intend

to perform Verdi's Requiem.

No.

I understand your disappointment.

It is what I would feel were I to limit myself

to a vision of myself as a poor imprisoned Jew

humiliated and stripped of its traditions, its roots.

We could do Mendelssohn's Paulus,

that at least is Jewish music.

Yes. Yes.

He's correct.

Mendelssohn's also wrote Christus

and rediscovered the Saint Matthew's Passion by Bach.

Do we want to be like them?

Do we really want to discuss the race of music?

If I could, I'll play Bruckner's Symphony

to their faces or the German Requiem by Brahms.

But you see, I'm asking more of myself and of you.

I'm asking you not to be prisoners of yourselves,

as well as of these wolves.

So we will perform Verdi's Requiem.

[speaks German]

We must start by choosing the chorus.

So please, get the word out.

If you know anyone who can sing, let me know.

But above all, find me a baritone.

It seems there isn't a single one in the whole of terrorism.

I've got more tenors than I know what to do with.

I blame Jewish religious rituals.

They are the only one that sing.

We need baritones.

Maestro?

Basses and baritone are considered the voices

of infernal creatures.

They won't even be allowed in the temples.

They'll sing outside.

They'll still be heard.

Ready?

This must be the 100th review I've written.

How many shows are there in theaters in these days?

Schmitt didn't like the absence

of musicians in the lists.

Did you know that?

In spite, he made Belstein call some back to hard labor.

You can tell from looking at him that he hates Jews.

But Jewish musicians, even more.

He would put us on the next train heading east.

According to Belstein, it's only a matter of time.

Well, according to Schachter, nothing

will happen, at least not for those putting on the requiem

for the Red Cross.

They say that afterwards, Berlin will want

to accelerate the deportations.

I know.

I know.

They intend to throw the ashes of the ghettos

there into the Oka River.

And that can be a good sign, right?

Show me.

I know.

I made you better looking.

You should be pleased.

With the arrival of the last instruments,

the orchestra is complete.

And the rehearsals are going well,

as the maestro will confirm.

Well, I'd say we are at a good point and--

[vocalizing]

Do you hear that?

[vocalizing]

Go on.

Just a second.

[vocalizing]

Where is it coming from?

[speaks German]

[vocalizing]

Is he drunk?

Shut the window, Belstein!

Of course.

It sounds like it's coming from the center of the Earth.

[vocalizing]

Shut up!

Sorry.

Forgive him.

He's a musician.

[speaks German]

[vocalizing]

La gitanilla.

Chimney sweep!

[speaks German]

Jakob, we have our baritone.

[music playing]

You.

You assure me that none of my musicians would be deported.

None.

Martina, Ana, Tomas, all the others, they are gone.

What have you done, Jakob?

You guaranteed me.

Maestro, calm down, please.

No, he did it!

He did it!

It's nobody's fault. They were a direct orders from command.

[speaks German]

What's bothering you, Hans?

Have you heard the news around the SS headquarters lately?

What?

The things are going badly for the Reich.

The Germans are afraid of enemy bombings even on Terezín.

Of course, I heard.

The best news I've had since I got here.

Do you think?

It worries me a great deal.

You don't think it's good news?

Of course.

If only it's true.

Germans wouldn't talk about such things.

It must be true.

It would be ironic surviving here in the ghetto

killed by allied bombs.

[laughter]

Hello, Antonio.

I have something for you.

When did she give it to you?

It doesn't matter.

Bye.

Let's leave him alone.

In his time.

[music playing]

Why did you try to change the list?

[music playing]

What is Martina Ruzickova to you?

Did you do it for money?

Answer me!

You wouldn't understand.

[music playing]

[speaks German]

My friends, tomorrow we will sing to the Nazis

what we can't say to them.

[orchestra playing]

Transport number?

When they ask you, you have to say you are well, healthy,

and seven years younger.

[speaks German]

[music playing]

They are not going to a good place.

You're here to work.

The station has to be operative very quickly.

Is that clear?

Yes, Herr Kommandant.

Is that clear?

Yes, Herr Kommandant.

Don't think about feigning illness or injury.

Nobody cares.

Besides, your alternative is called trains going east.

Move it!

[music playing]

Get back to work!

[music playing]

MARTINA: Dear Antonio, my name has been added to the list.

And I have to leave you.

When we saw each other in the music room, I already knew.

But I didn't have the courage to ruin such a beautiful moment.

I don't know what awaits me nor where they're taking me.

All I know is that the love we have for each other

will give me the strength to wait.

And you to look for me and find me.

I'm looking at the star studded sky of Terezín.

And in the face of so much beauty, I can't be afraid.

Be strong, as I will be.

Yours forever, Martina.

Any of you musicians?

Take the available instruments and come back front and center.

Move it!

Play something.

Anything!

[speaks German]

Did you stay in line?

The first person to move.

[instruments playing]

ANTONIO: A few days after I was freed,

the Soviet army reached Terezín on the 8th of May 1945,

finding all the orphans, starving women,

and sick elderly people.

All my companions at an incredible page

of history, Hans Krása, Rafael Schachter, Viktor Ullmann,

Peter Kay, and Fredrick Mach and so many others

had already been deported and murdered in Auschwitz

at the end of 1944.

Many scholars and musicologists believe

that if those extraordinary talents had survived,

they would have changed the culture of the 20th century.

[music playing]

I never found out what happened to Martina.

But I imagine she shared the same fate.

I went back to Italy a few times to see my family.

But I've chosen to spend my life in Prague, teaching music

to children and trying to explain to them how art can be

a marvelous and astonishing comfort for the soul,

even in the most merciless conditions

that men can conceive.

[music playing]