You doing well?
Hey.
Yeah, I have to go.
-Already? -I've got an appointment.
-I'll call you, OK? -Sit back down.
-Did you sleep well? -Mhm.
-Should I make us another coffee? -That'd be nice, but I'm late.
-What're you doing tonight? -Nothing, I bet.
Why?
-Because I have a thousand things to do. -What do you have to do?
Hi.
Hello.
Shit.
So.
Niko Fischer, you tested positive for alcohol
at a traffic stop again, correct?
-That is correct, yes. -Are you nervous?
-A little. -You don't have to be.
It's going to go on your driver's license anyways, right?
Hm?
-Mhm. -MPE. Do you know what that means?
Medical-Pyschological Examination.
More commonly known as?
-The idiot-test? -Correct.
"Idiot-test." And who are you calling "Idiot?" Me or you?
-Me. -Because?
Because I've made an idiot of myself
and you have to check whether or not I'm allowed to drive again.
Right. Well done.
So, last time we picked you up with 0.7 parts per million.
That's very close to dodging the legal limit, no?
If you're driving, you shouldn't drink at all.
-But one glass is OK, right? -No.
-Not if you're driving. -But, I mean, 0.7 parts per million...
My wife is just as drunk after three rum balls in the evening.
Is my wife endangering the the roadways?
I'd say that too, but...
If your wife was at 0.7 ppm after three rum balls,
the law does not allow her to drive.
Are you really so concerned with that? Laws, Rules?
-I studied law once. -Oh great, a lawyer.
I never finished.
Why?
Because I dropped out.
Why?
Because...
Because I'd noticed, that perhaps it wasn't for me.
-What did your parents say about that? -They weren't happy.
-But now you have a good job? -Yeah. Yeah, very good. Good.
-Mhm. -Are you in a relationship?
-Mr. Fischer. -Ja?
-A relationship? -I understood you.
-Was? -I understand you.
But I've noticed that you don't want to answer me.
I don't want to appear hopeless,
but do such direct questions about my private life really pertain here?
-Direct? -Yes.
I can be a lot more direct. Are you gay?
Do you have complexes, because you're so … so small?
Are you an alcoholic, because you're so teeny-weeny?
I'm not an alcoholic. Some months I don't even drink.
Not drinking is not drinking, and 0.7 ppm is 0.7 ppm.
-Have you already been drinking today? -No.
No coffee, no water?
Ugh. Of course I've drunk water.
Oh -- so by "drinking" you mean alcohol?
-I misunderstood you. -How have you misunderstood me?
-I didn't think… -What?
That it was a leading question.
A leading question! Mr. Fischer, please. I'm no linguistic acrobat.
I'd also like to make an evening of it.
-That can't happen. No driver's license. -Why?
You're emotionally unbalanced.
Your living situation suggests a relapse.
-You can't judge that yet. -No?
So.
I've already done that.
Beautiful day, anyways.
-Good morning. -Morning.
-What'll it be. -A coffee to go.
-To go? -Mhm.
-And for you? -Black coffee.
Don't you want to try something new? Today's special is a Maroccino.
With a chocolate donut for two euros more. Homemade and organic.
Mhm, I'll just take the coffee.
All right. We've got "Café Arabica" or "Columbia Morning."
Which one is regular coffee?
-They both taste good to me. -Great. I'll take the Columbia, then.
The Colombia. Very well.
-Should I add milk? -No.
-Soy milk? -Please, no.
All right. €3.40, please.
-Without the special? Just the coffee? -Yeah, €3.40.
-3.40 for a coffee? -That's the Colombia.
You have to say that. I have 2.20...
60, 70...
80.
-That's not enough. -Couldn't you make an exception?
Sorry, I can't do that.
Then ten other broke people will suddenly want a coffee.
-Brokes? -Yeah, brokes.
Okay.
Hello, Mrs. Mosebach. It's Niko Fischer.
Could I speak with my father?
Could you tell him to call me?
Yes?
-You've been dragged away, right? -For a couple weeks. Why?
Karl Speckenbach, we live above you. I'd like to introduce myself. Welcome.
-Wow. Thanks. -As a welcome present. Meatballs.
-From my wife. -That's lovely.
She was in the kitchen the whole morning. I swiped two already.
They're really good. Try one.
They're good?
Mhm.
-Moving's a lot of work. -I'm not even done yet.
I watched you hauling stuff.
I'd gladly help you, but my wife says that I should be careful with my back.
-A herniated disc. -That doesn't sound good.
What doesn't sound good?
-The thing with your back. -Oh, that. It's not so bad.
As you said, I'm being dragged away. I can't offer you anything more.
Cheers.
Did you see the soccer game yesterday?
-No. -Sensational game.
-Do you like soccer? -Sometimes.
Yeah, I'm crazy about soccer.
I've build myself a hobby-room in the cellar.
With a couch, Foosball table, flat screen and everything.
I watch all the games there. Sometimes a little movie, too.
-Oh. Is that your daughter? -It's an old photo.
These are your words, right?
Where was that taken?
Paris.
Paris...
Somehow, I'm jealous of you. Young and in love.
Children are probably the issue.
Do you have children?
With me and my wife, pretty much nothing worked. Nothing.
We were so driven before. But after five years we stopped trying.
Cancer. Breast cancer. From today to tomorrow.
They removed the whole thing.
I tried.
I'd like to explain it. But it doesn't work, I can't do it.
Instead, I live
in the cellar
and she is above in the kitchen and cooks and cooks
and cooks and cooks.
What should I do?
What should I do now?
Do you have anyone you can talk about it with?
What then?
I don't know. Maybe a … an old friend?
These damn women, they end you, totally end you.
Uah.
Yes?
Matze, hello.
-Someone should clean up this city? -Hm?
Someone should clean up this city.
Because it's a pile of shit.
I get a headache,
when I take a walk, and have to smell the filth.
Unbelievable. The headaches get worse and worse.
I have an idea.
The President needs to burn down this city
or flush it down a gigantic toilet.
"Taxi Driver"?
Exactly.
-Here you go. -Thanks.
-You don't want anything? -A coffee.
The coffee machine's broken. Something else?
-A mineral water. -Perfect.
Mh.
-Niko? -Hm?
-Niko Fischer? -Ja.
That's crude.
Julika. Julika Hoffmann. We went to school together.
-Really? -Yeah.
I was about three times as fat then.
I called you Gay Julika, then.
-Julika. -Yeah.
-Now. -That's crude.
-That's eleven, twelve years... -13 years.
-Crazy. You look totally different. -Yeah, thankfully.
-Sit down. -I don't want to bother you.
-You're not bothering me. Sit down. -No problem.
Thanks.
-That's Matzo. -Hello.
-Oh.
-Crazy. -Tell me everything!
-What're you doing? Are you studying? -I'm, uh, yeah. I'm doing that.
Come one, tell me. How are you?
Have you noticed the time?
-I switched to a boarding school. -Excactly, yeah.
It was a boarding school for… Overexcitable children.
But that was very helpful.
Yeah, that sounds very, very good.
Yeah.
Oh man, I was so in love with you. Despite all the humiliation.
-It's a difficult age. -Totally.
-13, 14. -You cry the whole night.
You hate yourself.
I even tried to kill myself, once.
That's why my parents sent me to boarding school.
It doesn't matter. Forget it.
-I have to go. -Already?
Yeah. What're you doing tonight?
-We don't have anything big planned. -A couple appointments. Why?
There's a performance of a play. Are you interested in that kind of thing?
-Are you kidding? I'm an actor.
It doesn't matter. Think it over. I'll reserve two tickets.
Okay. I'll check a couple times to make sure we have a space free, OK?
-Eh, we'll come in any case. -Really? Super.
Niko Fischer.
That's crude.
Gay Julika.
Here you go.
When does it start?
-Nine. -Okay, I'll call you at 8:30.
-I don't think that's a good idea. -Of course it is. She's reserving tickets for us.
Hello?
Yes, I'll be right there. I'm bringing someone with.
You're crazy.
A friend of mine. He works right around the corner.
Will you drop me off at home?
There.
-Matze, man, that's awesome. -Heil Hitler.
Now we'll Heil Hitler for real. Come here, oldy.
-How are you? -Super.
-My buddy Niko. -Hallo, Niko. Philipp Rauch. Nice to meet you.
Folks, come in.
It's total chaos here. You could clean up here.
-Should I close the door? -Yeah.
-That thing is bigger than my apartment. -Too big, yeah.
-That suit looks good on you. -Put that out of your head.
The cut and the material, it really looks good.
-Look look like my grandfather. -Ah!
The game's over! Come on, pants off.
Now, I'm going to cut out your tongue.
Heil Hitler. That was a real matzo.
Yeah, for sure. Sit down. Take the damn autograph cards away.
Are there perhaps a couple free, untaken roles in it?
-Maybe something small. I'll ask. -Only if it's not a problem.
No, it's fine. I play the lead role there. You too?
Hm? No thanks.
-What? It's great. -It's really not.
-Whoever doesn't want that, has it already. -But are you allowed to say what it's about?
-What? In the film? -Yeah, exactly.
-What's the story? -That's a good question.
I play a sensible writer who, before the war began,
was in love with a bookseller, and didn't know, that she was a Jew.
During the war they lose sight of each other.
And six years later, I'm a faithful officer...
But not totally faithful. There's a twist.
I'm in charge of searching through Jewish houses.
There comes a moment,
in which, suddenly, Hanna, the bookseller,
I see her again.
And now my character is faced with this conflict.
To save her, not to save her? What? How?
And in the final moment he decides...
and he saves her from the… from the...
Deportation.
Thank you. Deportation. He hides them.
The love breaks out again and one night
she suddenly confesses to him...
Guess.
-That they've have a kid together? -Jakob. Tiny, six years old.
And they have taken the child from her.
That is the moment for me, for Heinrich,
in which something in him snaps.
He feels purified and only wants the past to return.
He wants to see this child.
Then comes something really dramatic. But I won't tell you the end.
My god. Who thinks up this stuff?
-Is that based on true events? -Yeah, it happened during the second world war.
Hey, Niko. Come over here.
Hey, come over here. I'm gonna bite you. Come here.
Come, sit down. You can take a look at the monitor.
Sit down.
How do I know you both? Matze and you?
Because we were neighbors.
-Aha. -Finished.
Thanks, Conny.
-And you? -Hm?
-How do you know Matze? -Theater school. It was ages ago.
If you really had a talent then, then you enrolled there.
After a couple months he had an audition.
I went by this door, and through a crack I saw him perform.
People were flipping out!
A thousand offers. TV, cinema, theater, everything.
Those were really good times.
What happened?
Nothing. He cancelled everything, thought it was all shit.
He sat in the bar and waited for the right role. It never came.
Don't get me wrong -- I love this type.
A real actor and a worthy man.
I know.
If you're going to speak about the devil. Metze, come.
-Sit down. -Thank you.
-And what did the boss say? -Everything looks good.
-He'll call me again tomorrow. -Don't worry, it'll go fine.
We're so far.
Folks, I have to.
Duty calls.
Don't run away.
-Quiet back there! -Please be quiet and turn up the sound!
The sound is playing.
Hanna. Hanna.
What?
What do you have?
Heinrich.
The war is over.
-What'd you say? -You heard right.
Berlin is taken. People say that Hitler has capitulated.
-But that means that we're free. -No, you … you are free, Hanna.
But tomorrow I have to hide.
-I'll tell them what you've done for me. -You don't understand.
-You're not one of them. -You don't know what I've done.
beautiful Hanna.
Farewell.
-Hello? One moment, one moment. -Hello. Niko, I can hardly hear you.
-Niko. -Now.
-Where are you? I can barely understand you. -In the library.
-You can't call there. -Then you're busy?
-So to speak. -That's good, very good.
-You called. -Exactly.
-I already tried last week. -I'm sorry.
-Do you hear my messages? -Sometimes.
If I never answered the telephone, we'd be so tight.
This morning my card was confiscated.
Really? I'm a half hour away from your place.
Come by. We'll play and talk.
-Okay, I'll do that. If not... -See you soon.
Fuck.
Kiss my ass, that was at least 200 meters.
-If not 250, right? -Ah. The champ is here.
Late as always, but he comes.
-Hello. -What?
-How are you? -Bad people are always doing fine.
Schneider, my new assistant. Niki, my beloved son.
-Your own. -You can't be so certain.
-Nice to meet you. -Very nice.
Come, help us with a couple balls.
-I'm not sure if that's a good idea. -Show off what you've got.
Good.
Weak, very weak.
You're standing wrong. Stand 90 degrees from the direction of impact.
-Yeah. -Yeah?
So?
Stupid kid, don't bend your wrist.
Guide with your arm, hold the momentum, and swing through with one movement.
Wonderful. Schneider, hang them up.
Hello.
Yeah.
-Super. -Two balls. Schneider against Niko.
The loser pays for the drinks.
150, good.
That was difficult.
Schneider, you look a little gay, but it's efficient.
Imagine that you're standing over me with the bat, OK?
And if that position feels right, hold onto it.
What?
I'll get the drinks. What'll it be?
-Coffee would be great. -Not that. It's way too late for coffee.
-You need a schnapps. -Isn't it a little early for that?
-We'll take three schnapps. -Three schnaps.
Schneider is a good man. He finished law school.
-Okay. -Yeah.
A year younger than you.
And for you?
Also good. I think that I'll be finished next year.
I'd love to consult you about it.
Gladly, anytime.
-What's your professor named? -Hm...
-Do you mean Kollath? -Dr. Kollath.
Very nice, very competent.
A good professor, yeah.
-Mm, because of the thing with the bank. -Yeah.
-What was that? -A vending machine took my card.
-Very, very strange. -Odd.
Yeah.
-It's for the best. -You should be going.
-Excuse me? -Schneider, please get the car.
-I had a great time. -Mhm, likewise.
Yeah, what're we going to do about the Bank?
-Niko, why are you lying to me? -Hm?
I met Pofessor Kollath at a conference in Zurich.
He told me that you dropped out of your studies two years ago.
My question, sweet Niko, is:
What have you done these last two years, while I've been sending you money?
Hm?
I've been thinking things over.
You've been thinking things over?
What things, might I ask?
Things about myself.
About yourself.
About everything.
I give you 1,000 euros, so that you can think about yourself?
Yeah.
Get over it. When your mom pushed you out, I was 24.
Then I had to make money.
I studied all day and worked all night.
Because Niko wanted trumpet lessons. And then he gave them up.
Niko gave up the Capoeira lessons.
Niko gave up fencing, guitar, and piano lessons.
Why am I not surprised, that you've given up your studies?
You're like your mother.
Don't you have anything to say?
Here.
Your account no longer exists.
Cut your hair, buy normal shoes,
and get yourself a job.
What more can I do? There's nothing more for you to do.
It's been great, I had a great time.
-I need your ID. -ID.
-The vending machine was broken. -It may be. Your ID.
-In any case. -Actually...
-ID, please. -I have to buy a ticket.
But the vending machine was broken, right?
They've got to check and make sure that these things function.
Sometimes a vending machine is out of order.
No, please.
Then you can pick up a ticket at the next station.
-For a legitimate ride. -Legitimate.
-A ticket represents a contract. -I'd love to have one, but I don't.
Use of a transportation system without a valid ticket.
-Is 40 euros. Your information, please. -That costs 40 euros.
Why do you repeat everything?
-I don't. -You're like a robot.
-Your ID, please. -ID.
-There it is again. -40 euros and your ID.
I'm going to call the police. Hurry up.
-Please don't fight about the ID. -You're repeating yourself.
Good.
-So, you'd like to see my ID? -For Christ's sake, yes.
-Why do you need to see my ID? -We don't have to tell you that.
-Do you find this funny? -Yes.
I don't have to state my name. Only my badge number.
I have to identify myself but you don't.
-Correct. Only the badge number. -Let me guess... yours is R2-D2?
-Look out! -Stefan! What's wrong with you today?
At some point you get a flat tire.
-Every day the same shit. -I know. -Real quiet, yeah?
Stefan!
-Freeze! -Remain standing!
-Stefan, I'm not fucking around. -Stand back!
And chewing gum. And a little vodka.
-One? -What?
-One? -Two.
Roman Hubnik bring the mood into the booth.
The leader celebrates
and speaks of Peitz's error.
Of course we have to go there.
I know.
Why'd you go straight there?
It's never a surprise.
-Yes? -Good evening, Mrs. Baumann.
-Is Marcel home? -Why do you ask?
-Marcel, is he home? -Yes.
Who are you, then?
A friend of Marcel.
-Could you tell him that we're here? -What do you want from him?
-Mrs. Baumann... -Is coming. All's good, grandma.
Is coming.
Good evening.
-What can I offer you? Sneakers? -No, we need something else.
-Okay, how many? -Two.
Two. One moment. I have to weigh it out.
-Marcel. -Yes?
-Are your friends hungry? -Hungry?
-No. -You?
-Thank you. -No.
-I can make some bread. -No, but that's sweet. Maybe later.
Marcel, can I use your toilet?
-You can lay one down right here. -I need to.
-It's over there. -Thanks.
What kind of salamander is that?
-Hello. -Hello.
I'm Niko, Matze's buddy.
I'm Mrs. Baumann, Marcel's grandmother.
-Are you hungry? -Hm? No, thank you.
-I can make some bread. -That's sweet, but I'm not hungry.
-You've got a very chic chair. -A gift from Marcel.
-Would you like to try it out? -No, I don't want to disturb anyone.
And now lean yourself back and relax.
-Like this? -Yes, just like that.
Oh. What happens now?
Wow.
Yeah, that's good.
Niko.
-Are you coming with or crashing here? -I'm coming.
-You can crash here. -We've got to go.
Ciao, have fun!
Take care of yoruself, Niko.
I will.
Hello. There are tickets reserved under "Niko."
-You're quite late. -We couldn't find parking.
That's unfortunate. The show's already started.
What does taht mean?
That the show has already started.
There's nothing you can do?
-Who gave you the tickets? -Julika.
Julika who?
Gay Julika...
"Gay Julika."
-Hoffmann. -Julika Hoffmann, exactly.
Okay.
Third row.
Be quiet. The show's already started.
Excuse me.
Ah!
Ah.
Uh!
There you are! We nearly began without you.
I brought someone with me. Sabrina, Kerstin and Stella.
I went to boarding school with Stella.
How sweet. Now we can begin. I'm proud of you all. Cheers!
-Cheers! -Cheers!
-Friends of yours? -Yeah, Malta and Niko.
And that's Ralf, writer and director of tonight's show.
Great performance. Thank you so much.
-You liked it? -Absolutely.
Then why did you laugh?
Hm?
Aren't you the two that arrived late?
-What's wrong? -You both laughed.
-That's not true. -I heard you.
I was so sucked into the show that I didn't notice.
Perhaps you don't like our art, because it's "mainstream shit."
Why are you here then?
-Julika gave us tickets. -Yeah.
It gets better and better.
-Ey. -You got yourselves in free.
You don't have three euros for a ticket and you laugh at us. Wonderful!
-Ralf. -I hope, that you amused yourselves.
It wasn't really that bad.
There was just one passage that I thought was supposed to be funny.
-Funny? -He found it funny.
-You need to explain that better. -What kind of vibe is that?
-We enjoyed ourselves. -Wait, wait.
I'd like to know. What did you find funny?
The representation of the birth.
That certainly entered into the realm of the comic.
Then I asked myself, with all seriousness,
why don't we come into the world with a huge grin on our faces?
Why do we scream and cry as we're being born?
To open up the respiratory passage.
-Are you a doctor? -No, but that's what I read.
-What makes you an authority? -Nothing.
-Nothing? -I didn't laugh.
-And you? -I work in ... well, in advertising.
-You're an actor. -Very interesting.
-Let me guess. City theater? National? -No. That's nonsense.
-So not a subsidized group, then. -No.
-Film? "The Berlin School"? -I don't have anything against your play.
Why is it so wrong, if we bring a little fresh air into the official scene?
-What? -That's absolutely praiseworthy.
-Praiseworthy? -Yeah.
-That's an old friend. -What does "your guests" mean here?
-It's not your problem. -You get paid 2,000 euros.
For eight weeks.
-Excuse me, do you have a light? -Yeah.
Thanks.
Hey, that's something.
Uh!
Hello.
Hold up, man! You pissed yourself!
Hey.
-Hi. -I was worried that you'd left.
I wanted to have a smoke, before I totally ruin the party.
Nonsense. You haven't ruined the party.
-Ralf feels otherwise. -Ach, Ralf. He needs to relax.
He's so obsessed with his work.
That's true.
But I really don't think what he makes is very good.
-What do you care, then? -Because it's my hobby.
I love it, when I stand on the stage and everyone is watching me.
When you bare yourself to strangers, that is the best sort of danger.
Others find it quite embarassing.
I don't find it embarassing.
I liked it.
-You're lying. -No, honestly. I found it...
I thought it was brave of you.
Yeah.
I wouldn't trust that myself.
-You didn't used to be so reticent. -When was that?
If was if you knew exactly what you wanted.
What was that?
I don't know.
Do you know what it's like,
to have the feeling that
that all the people around you are honeslty kind of weird?
But when you think it over,
then it becomes clear that the problem is with yourself.
Excuse me. I don't want to disturb.
-But you don't have a cig. -I don't smoke.
Oh. Here.
Thank you, thank you. Do you have one for my buddy too? Thanks.
-Take one yourself. -How proper of you.
-You're not from Berlin? -We are, but we'd like to chat again.
Kein Problem. Warte mal. Kommt mal her, ihr Spasten.
I thought you were Kevin. He's got something on his mind.
-Now you can ask. -Fuck that.
-Chill, man. -Control yourself, man.
I'll give you 10 euros, if you show me your tits.
Very funny.
-Hey, don't you want to have fun? -It's a great offer.
Are you frigid or what?
Julika, it doesn't matter.
-How old are you? 17, 18? -None of your business.
You've got to let your cock get hard before you make the ladies mad.
-Hey! Good precaution! -What kind of person are you?
Julika, let us...
Let me guess, you came into the world as an alcoholic,
becuase your pregnant mother was wasted on schnapps.
And your father beat you, when he came out of the bar.
-Hold the presses! -Then he didn't even come around.
And your mother blamed you, and now you think the world is shit,
and now you run around with your gang and play the leader.
But all you really want is for someone to take you in their arms.
-Don't let yourself offer that. -Exactly, don't offer that.
-Shut your mouth, you whore. -Whore?
-Should we go inside? -That whore will let you in for sure.
-And she'll let you call her "Mama." -I'll shut your mouth.
-Hey. -Hands off, you victim.
-You're the victim. -I'll fuck you!
-Are you going home now? -What, man!
-You're dead! You're dead, man! -Come on.
Whore!
Little wanker. We should call the police.
Nonsense. They just want to take a walk...
Does it hurt a lot?
No.
-Did I look pathetic when I fell down? -Not at all.
Okay.
Maybe a little.
No. You stepped in between them, man. That's the only thing that counts.
It's because you provoked them, that it went so far.
What do you mean by that?
You'd already done plenty to piss them off.
You should ignore them and just keep going.
Everyone knows that.
Do you know how many times I've tried to ignore these comments?
Your comments.
Do you know how it feels when you weigh 80 kilos as a child
and everyone calls you "Gay Julika"?
and "elephant girl" and...
-Dish rag. -Dish rag.
-Do you know how that feels? -Of course not.
You feel a little like shit.
It took a long time for me to get over it.
That's why I don't ignore it anymore.
Absolutely not.
I'm sorry.
Thanks.
You really look great.
Really?
Absolutely.
But deep in my heart I'm not the same.
That fat little...
depressed girl.
What do you mean?
Would you like to fuck that little fat girl?
Um...
Say it. That you want to fuck the little fat girl.
-Say it, or... -Yeah, say it.
You want to fuck the little fat girl.
-I want to fuck the little fat... -Yeah, say it. Fuck the fat girl.
-The little fat girl, I want... -Louder.
-The little fat girl, you want to... -Stop. Stop. Julika, wait. Stop.
-What? -Please. I, I...
-We shouldn't do that. -Why?
Am I too fat for you?
No, not at all.
I just mean, man, that feels a little strange.
Do you really think I'm too fat?
What?
Okay, Julika.
Fuck off.
All that I want to say is,
yeah, it honestly, for me, feels a little strange.
Yeah? So if after so many years, we were to,
in the same way as anyone else,
dealing with the past...
-What? Dealing with the past? -Yeah, the past.
What kind of pathetic person are you, really? Hm?
Should we maybe go get a drink?
Stay away! Everyone wants to fuck me. Get out of here.
I'm done with you. Go quickly. I'm going to get hysterical soon. Go.
Okay.
Julika...
I told you -- You can go piss yourself.
-Hello. -Hello. Do you still have coffee?
Not any more, no. The machine has already been cleaned.
-A vodka and a beer then, okay? -Gladly.
Are you a lonely wolf?
Can we get two more here?
I don't understand people anymore.
I don't understand a single word, that they all say.
If you don't mind, I'd like to be left alone.
I don't have the faintest idea what you're actually talking about.
Do you understand what I mean?
No...
Listen to me. It sounds like another language, right?
-They speak German. -Oh, they speak German?
-Yeah, most of them. -Yup.
-So I should be able to understand them. -Yes.
Ah. Don't I also speak German?
-But? -But actually, yeah, I do.
Yes, no? Actually, yes.
Cheers, my friend.
Cheers.
-You're not from here, are you? -Why do you ask?
Kid, of course I'm from here!
I was just away for a little bit.
60 years.
You were just a sparkle in the eye of a sailor, right?
-And where were you for 60 years? -Away.
Aha.
And now I'm back.
I understand.
You don't understand. You don't understand anything.
Everything looked very different here, my friend.
Over there was my school. I was so dirty.
We pissed our pants,
because we had to stand at attention at the front of the class
and greet the Führer: "Heil Hitler" here, "heil Hilter," there.
-Hey, hey! -It's OK.
You can't really understand it, when you're that old.
What do you do, then? You do what everyone does.
It's always been nice here, right?
Or are you of the other opinion? Yeah? Are you of the other opinion?
Perhaps from today's perspective...
Yeah. From today's perspective...
Ha! My dear friend,"from today's perspective" meant nothing then.
From today's perspective. I was away for sixty years.
I can't honestly remember.
Over there, where the parking lot is, that was once a playing field.
My gang used to hang out there the whole afternoon.
I was the littlest and had to play goal. Yeah, so it went.
In front of here my old man taught me to ride a bike.
I tell you, I don't know,
how often I fell on my face out there.
But he never stopped. We always continued.
Suddenly one day I was able to ride a long way by myself.
It was good, that the bike was perhaps a little too big for me.
People always laughed about how proud I was about my long ride.
"Don't let them laugh at you",
my father told me.
But I never really had the feeling that they were laughing at me.
I had the feeling,
that they were happy.
And then when they were gone?
Once in the middle of the night my father woke me up and said:
"Come with me, child, onto the street. I want to show you something."
So then I was with him in the street.
He put a couple stones in my hand and said:
"Now look at what you have there."
Then he took a a stone himself
and broke these panes of glass with it.
Yeah. Right here, where we're sitting.
The street was full of people.
It was pitch black.
Not so bright as today, where eveything's lit up and shining,
because people can't bear the darkness anymore.
Pitch black.
And all these people were breaking windows with stones.
And these windowpanes here, my father
quickly smashed into pieces.
And I stood over there on the street.
and everything was full of broken glass,
and it burned and the street glittered
because the fire was so bright.
And I can still remember perfectly,
that at some point I started to cry.
And now you ask, why?
Why?
Becuase I thought:
"Because of all these glass shards, I can't ride my bike here anymore."
-Hey, hey, hey. Is everying OK? -What?
-Is everything OK with you? -I can't understand you.
-Call an ambulance, please. -Yeah.
-Another unit. -Access isn't clear.
-Other side. -Heartbeat?
It doesn't look good.
-They can't come in. -But how's he doing?
-Are you relatives? -No.
Please take a seat in the waiting room.
Excuse me, do you have a light?
Is he doing better?
He's dead.
I'm sorry.
Hm.
-Have you called his family? -He doesn't have one.
No one?
Can you tell me what his name is?
I can't, actually.
The first name?
Friedrich.