Max Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the Max script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the movie starring Noah Taylor as Adolph Hitler, as well as John Cusack, Leelee Sobieski, Molly Parker, etc.  This script is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of Max. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and I'll be eternally tweaking it, so if you have any corrections, feel free to drop me a line. You won't hurt my feelings. Honest.

Swing on back to Drew's Script-O-Rama afterwards for more free movie scripts!

Max Script


   

                   

George.

So glad you like it.



 

                   

Rothman?

Who's this Rothman?



 

                   

Max Rothman.



 

                   

Isn't his father in shoes?



 

                   

- Think so.

- Shoes or frocks.



 

                   

Shoes, frocks, or stocks.



 

                   

The Duke of Westminster used

to own a spaniel called "Jew"--



 

                   

except when his Rothchild

banker came over.



  

                   

Then they called him "Joe."



  

                   

Oo-ooh, champagne.



  

                   

Max.



  

                   

Why are you wasting this divine

tipple on these swine?



  

                   

lnsecurity, I suppose.



  

                   

lnsecurity is the mother

of an overdraft.



  

                   

- Oo-ooh.

- George Grosz.



  

                   

l hear the sound

of new money.



  

                   

l'm for sale.



  

                   

l might pay for

this evening yet.



  

                   

Come.



  

                   

Take care of Grosz for me.



  

                   

George.



  

                   

George!

A moment.



  

                   

- Mr. Epp.

- Oh.



  

                   

Mrs. Epp, I think Max would like

a quick word with you.



  

                   

George, do you want a drink?.



  

                   

Hello, hello.



  

                   

- So nice to see you.

- Hello.



  

                   

l have a Monet downstairs.



  

                   

- Monet? Why?

- Yes.



  

                   

l thought this might be

a tad too modern for you.



  

                   

Are you questioning

my modernity?



  

                   

- God, no, no.

- I hate those waterlilies,



  

                   

it always reminds me

of a gardening catalogue.



  

                   

Maybe you'd like to see it?

Are you sure?



  

                   

- l'll go down and get it.

- l'll take the Ernst.



  

                   

And who is this funny fellow

who looks like a butcher?.



  

                   

- Grosz, George Grosz.

- l'll take two of him.



  

                   

Excellent.



  

                   

Didn't know you had a Monet.



  

                   

l don't.



  

                   

How are you?



  

                   

Don't spiel me.

Where's your wife?



  

                   

Waiting for her entrance,

l suppose.



  

                   

- And where's that leave me?

- Talented, with options.



  

                   

l'm tired of options.



  

                   

You're too young

to be tired of options.



  

                   

l'd really love

to see you again.



  

                   

Tell me, Max,



  

                   

where's the future in it?



  

                   

The future?



  

                   

No...

l've seen the future.



  

                   

Believe me,

it came straight at us.



  

                   

There's no future

in the future.



  

                   

So you might as well--



  

                   

Nina,

mon amour.



  

                   

Nice to see you.



  

                   

Hello, darling.



  

                   

- How'd it go?

- Hm-mm.



  

                   

l fell out at every turn,

but they seemed to like it.



  

                   

- That's what matters.

- lt's going well?



  

                   

Who knows?



  

                   

Do you know

what you look like?



  

                   

Like your wife, I hope.



  

                   

No. Like a woman

defying gravity.



  

                   

That's what we do,

us ladies.



  

                   

l left my cigarettes

at the theater.



  

                   

Poppy.



  

                   

The champagne.



  

                   

Poppy.



  

                   

There's one more case

on the sidewalk.



  

                   

- And these are on loan.

- l'll pay you back with interest.



  

                   

- The   th?

- Yeah, the list. And you?



  

                   

 th.



  

                   

Hussars.



  

                   

Nah, cavalry.



  

                   

- Where do you want it?

- Thank you.



  

                   

lnside the door.



  

                   

Thank you, Corporal.



  

                   

ls this your building?

ls this some sort of club?



  

                   

- I sell art.

- ln here?



  

                   

- Uh-huh. ls that a portfolio?

- Yeah.



  

                   

Fork it over,

let's take a look.



  

                   

What's your market then?



  

                   

- Mostly modern stuff.

- Oh, modern.



  

                   

Like uh...



  

                   

next time I have diarrhea

l'll take a shit on a canvas



  

                   

and bring it round to you, huh?



  

                   

You could do worse.



  

                   

l certainly wouldn't

reject it out of hand,



  

                   

l'm open to everything.



  

                   

Would you like a cigarette?



  

                   

They give you

cancer of the lung.



  

                   

Are you a doctor?.



  

                   

Hello, darling.



  

                   

Liselore von Peltz,

this is Corporal--



  

                   

Hitler.



  

                   

Adolf Hitler.



  

                   

Hello.



   

                   

Thank you for coming.



   

                   

- ls she your wife?

- My wife's inside.



   

                   

- You're a funny one.

- Come in.



   

                   

- Have a glass of champagne.

- I don't drink.



   

                   

- That's original.

- Yes, well--



   

                   

- best be on my way.

- Thanks again for the hand.



   

                   

The   th?



   

                   

We were together at Ypres.



   

                   

Yes, we were.



   

                   

Perhaps only a few

kilometers apart.



   

                   

l did some modern stuff

in the trenches.



   

                   

That I would very much

like to see.



   

                   

You know where to find me.

Max Rothman.



   

                   

Das Eisern Werk.



   

                   

How do you like your fish,

Daddy?



   

                   

Mm-mm, lovely.



   

                   

Ja, that was delicious.



   

                   

Are you finished?

You hardly touched it.



   

                   

l don't know how

you stay so thin.



   

                   

- She has a parasite.

- I don't, thank God.



   

                   

Yes, yes, but tell her about

that girl in the company.



   

                   

Oh, Esther swallowed

a tapeworm.



   

                   

On purpose.



   

                   

- A Jewish girl did this?

- Isn't that fabulous?



   

                   

- Why?

- To lose weight, Mammy.



   

                   

l don't think this is

dinnertable conversation.



   

                   

Yes, but thank God it's lunch

and we're all grown up.



   

                   

As a medical man,

don't you find that fascinating?



   

                   

Here is a girl

who has a certain--



   

                   

a certain aesthetic standard

which she... adheres herself to--



   

                   

l don't think this is

an appropriate conversation.



   

                   

l know, I know,

it certainly isn't.



   

                   

But wouldn't the condition

be chronic if it took, Nin?



   

                   

Did it?

All right.



   

                   

Let's talk about...



   

                   

the weather, literally.



   

                   

Have you been outside today?

Isn't it gorgeous?



   

                   

l think it's what the English

call an lndian summer.



   

                   

But it's November.



   

                   

l don't think Max is saying

that it isn't, Dad.



   

                   

Isn't that what they call the last days

of October, November--



   

                   

- lndian summer?.

- No, no, that's autumn.



   

                   

What they call fall.



   

                   

l'm going for a stroll.



   

                   

He hasn't been able to sit still

since he came back.



   

                   

Balls!



   

                   

He was already a neuropath

before the war.



   

                   

Do you know what Ferdi

told me yesterday?



   

                   

Doctors



   

                   

are mostly judged



   

                   

by their hands.



   

                   

Fucking bourgeois prick.



   

                   

Our commander lost half

the battalion because he had



   

                   

- a "von" before his name.

- You're saying the Russians are right?



   

                   

l'm saying we shouldn't be

so quick to judge them,



   

                   

- maybe they're onto something.

- They're onto something all right.



   

                   

- They never should have killed the tsar.

- Really?



   

                   

Why?



   

                   

Because the tsar

was such a good guy?



   

                   

What about those kids,

did they deserve a bullet?



   

                   

- And that little boy?

- To make stew, you gotta chop meat.



   

                   

And what kind of stew

is that, soldier?.



   

                   

Speak up.



   

                   

Hello, hello.

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



   

                   

A little taste for everyone.



   

                   

Nothing's wrong with that.



   

                   

Nothing at all.



   

                   

But let's take a closer look

at these stew chefs.



   

                   

Marx...



   

                   

Jew.



   

                   

Lenin...



   

                   

mongrel Jew.



   

                   

Trotsky...



   

                   

Jew from "A" to "z."



   

                   

Yeah, so?



   

                   

Did you ever know a Jew



   

                   

to do anything

for anybody else,



   

                   

except raise your rent?



   

                   

What do you think, Corporal?



   

                   

l don't believe

in anti-Semitism.



   

                   

Not in emotive

anti-Semitism anyway.



   

                   

What the hell

does that mean?



   

                   

lt means I don't believe

that anti-Semitism



   

                   

should be based on emotions--

which just leads to pogrom



   

                   

and anarchy--

but rather on the facts.



   

                   

l'm not sure I quite understand

your point, Corporal.



   

                   

My point is, Captain,

that the Semitic question



   

                   

is far too important

to be left to the individual.



   

                   

lt ought to be in the domain

of the government,



   

                   

like public health

or sewage.



   

                   

l think you look handsome.



   

                   

What's the price on this?



   

                   

l'm not gonna bite.



   

                   

Seven marks for the suit.



   

                   

Two marks for the shirt.



   

                   

And the tie--



   

                   

we'll call it an even   .



   

                   

- Why put a gallery in an ironworks?

- You know what they used to make here?



   

                   

Locomotives.



   

                   

And now they're recovering the iron and steel

and selling it as scrap.



   

                   

Beating swords

into ploughshares?



   

                   

That wouldn't be

a bad lead.



   

                   

No, no, that's too soft,

that's too pacifistic.



   

                   

- Not subversive enough.

- Subversive?



   

                   

Yes, subversive.

l mean, Jesus God,



   

                   

what a giant piece of kitsch

theater this last war was.



   

                   

lt was all fought on rail

and yet the Kaiser went on horse



   

                   

surrounded by the princes with

the regiments and the banners



   

                   

snapping in the breeze

like it was Agincourt.



   

                   

But it wasn't Agincourt,

was it?



   

                   

But you're

an ex-cavalry man.



   

                   

So I know exactly

of which I speak.



   

                   

And from now on we must make art

with the same unsentimentality,



   

                   

the same principles that we would

the manufacture of bayonets.



   

                   

Bayonets?



   

                   

Yes, or maybe wash bins would work.

- No, we'll stick with bayonets.



   

                   

- Bayonets is a lot sharper.

- Yes it is. Yes.



   

                   

Mind if we take

a look around?



   

                   

Be my guest.



   

                   

Ah, Corporal Hitler.



   

                   

"Hit-ler."



   

                   

Not living in

the barracks anymore?



   

                   

lt's not like there's a lot

of cheap housing



   

                   

around for vets, is there?



   

                   

No, I suppose there isn't.



   

                   

- Can I offer you some coffee?

- No, I never touch it.



   

                   

No caffeine, no alcohol,

no nicotine, no meat.



   

                   

- You're an ascetic.

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



   

                   

l see you brought

your goods.



   

                   

Don't expect

anything abstract.



   

                   

l'm a great believer

in Schopenhauer's dictum



   

                   

that art should proclaim,



   

                   

"Yes by God,

this is how it really is."



   

                   

But life can be quite abstract

at times, wouldn't you agree?



   

                   

How do you mean?



   

                   

Sometimes "life," as you say,

won't be captured



   

                   

by the forms and lines

of traditional representation,



   

                   

- especially not these days.

- I disagree completely.



   

                   

Art should only ever reflect

the eternal values



   

                   

and the natural laws,

especially these days.



   

                   

But aren't these eternal values



   

                   

and natural laws

in flux these days?



   

                   

Aren't they meant to be

shrinking and expanding?



   

                   

What are you, some kind

of intellectual wet fart?



   

                   

The eternal values are:

harmonious proportions;



   

                   

nobility and dignity;



   

                   

and the continuation

of the cultural evolution,



   

                   

where each generation stands

upon the shoulders of the next



   

                   

and improves the work

of the last.



   

                   

But this is...



   

                   

  



   

                   

no,     steps backwards.



   

                   

This is the undoing

of the previous generations.



   

                   

This is filth!

This is blood poisoning.



   

                   

Are you a friend

of Marinetti's?



   

                   

ls that what this is about?



   

                   

Yes? Some sort of mad

reverse futurist?



   

                   

- Futurists?

- Yes, ltalians.



   

                   

They experienced the war

"pictorially."



   

                   

Like you, l'm hoping.



   

                   

Some of the ltalians

fought well.



   

                   

He served, right?



   

                   

Grosz? Yes he did,

Grenadier Guards, I think.



   

                   

- Bolshie, huh?

- No, not really.



   

                   

- Just pissed off.

- Oh, yeah.



   

                   

What's he pissed off about?



   

                   

He thinks people should have

the right to strike.



   

                   

And you, Rothman?



   

                   

- Are you pissed off?.

- About the right to strike?



   

                   

No, about your arm.



   

                   

You were gonna

be a painter, right?



   

                   

You're a funny one.



   

                   

- Well?

- I think it's good,



   

                   

but I think you could go

even deeper.



   

                   

Deeper?.



   

                   

- What do you mean, deeper?.

- I mean it's good,



   

                   

but I sense you're just

scratching at the surface.



   

                   

When I look at this work

l see a pretty solid technique,



   

                   

but what I am missing



   

                   

is an authentic voice.



   

                   

One gets the feeling that

you're holding something back



   

                   

and for the work to really leap forward,

to take the next step.



   

                   

l keep going back to this notion

of an authentic voice.



   

                   

What I mean to say is,

l was there,



   

                   

and you were there, and

l know what it looked like,



   

                   

but what did it feel like?



   

                   

That's what we want to know,

isn't it?



   

                   

Does any of what

l'm saying resonate?



   

                   

l suppose what l'm trying

to say is



   

                   

you have to go as deep

as you possibly can.



   

                   

Then you have

to gather yourself



   

                   

and say, "Okay, I just broke

the surface deeper still."



   

                   

You know, Rothman...



   

                   

when I came back

from this war,



   

                   

l came back to nothing.



   

                   

Really nothing.



   

                   

No homeland,



   

                   

no home,



   

                   

no parents,

no family,



   

                   

no fiancee,



   

                   

no profession,

no job,



   

                   

no food,



   

                   

no closet full of...



   

                   

old hockey sticks

and tennis rackets.



   

                   

Not even an address.



   

                   

All I have in this world



   

                   

is the conviction



   

                   

that I am a great artist



   

                   

and a master builder.



   

                   

And you just stole

from that.



   

                   

From the one thing



   

                   

that's mine--



   

                   

a rich boy like you.



   

                   

So, if art as an object

is dead,



   

                   

why is everything

so expensive?



   

                   

Otherwise nobody would buy it.



   

                   

Soldier # :

You Bolshie bastard.



   

                   

Fucking communist.



   

                   

Soldier # :

Fucking comrade communist.



   

                   

Soldier # : Bastard.



   

                   

Soldier # : Bolshie.



   

                   

Soldier # :

Bolshevik.



   

                   

Soldier # :

Get up.



   

                   

Soldier # :

Come on, you stupid pig.



   

                   

Looks like Corporal Hitler had

a difficult time in the city.



   

                   

Soldier # :

Communist bastard.



   

                   

Keeping warm, Corporal?



   

                   

Friend of yours?



   

                   

lt's a study for a work called

"The Cultural Consumptive."



   

                   

l know the type.

Just clever enough to be unhappy.



   

                   

You're an interesting man.

Artists aren't known for their nerve.



   

                   

You were awarded the lron Cross,

first class, weren't you?



   

                   

Would you like to learn

how to speak in public?



   

                   

We're offering a course

to certain people.



   

                   

- What kind of course?

- A course in a new kind of science.



   

                   

lt is called propaganda.



   

                   

- The course consists of--

- Yes, I know about propaganda.



   

                   

Well it also consists

of philosophy,



   

                   

history, economics.



   

                   

l'm going to be frank

with you, Corporal,



   

                   

we're in trouble.



   

                   

Germany's balanced

on a razor's edge.



   

                   

Will she fall to the left

or to the right?



   

                   

l think that depends largely

on the army, sir.



   

                   

You strike me as an unusually

perceptive man, Corporal.



   

                   

May we count on you?



   

                   

Of course, the army will pay

for your expenses.



   

                   

Hm-mm?



   

                   

Lads, may I present

for your edification



   

                   

Herr von Lieberfelt



   

                   

and his troupe?



   

                   

Sorry,

Major von Lieberfelt.



   

                   

Men, good evening.



   

                   

l'm here to present you

with a challenge.



   

                   

Have you ever noticed that

the Jews only fuck each other?.



   

                   

Why?



   

                   

Because they guard

the purity of their blood.



   

                   

So, if we guard the purity

of our blood



   

                   

the way they guard

the purity of their blood,



   

                   

we see the world

as it really is.



   

                   

Our divine ancestors,

the Aryans,



   

                   

came to Earth

from outer space.



   

                   

Forged in a matrix

of ice and war,



   

                   

Ar became the first

divine artist warrior.



   

                   

But then...



   

                   

the Aryan was lead

into temptation



   

                   

by soft swarthy people

from bountiful lands.



   

                   

Shh-hh.

Shh-hh.



   

                   

And Ar's blood is polluted.



   

                   

And Ar grows weak.



   

                   

And Ar becomes

the slave of the Jews.



   

                   

Grail Knights!

Yes,



   

                   

because you are

Grail Knights.



   

                   

lf we guard the purity

of our blood,



   

                   

we have it

in our power to again



   

                   

straddle the Earth

like supermen.



   

                   

Mr. Rothman:

l eat a little grilled fish,



   

                   

no meat-- no red meat--

lots of fruit,



   

                   

lots of green vegetables,

cheese.



   

                   

Nina's father:.

How are you sleeping?



   

                   

- Six hours a night.

- That's not enough.



   

                   

That's too much.

l sleep too much.



   

                   

No stimulants.



   

                   

l'm off coffee.



   

                   

Everything has to be bio now.



   

                   

Steamed vegetables.



   

                   

- He has a new doctor.

- Why doesn't he come see me?



   

                   

You don't charge enough.



   

                   

l've lost    lbs.



   

                   

l'm in and out of the tailor

all the time.



   

                   

l don't charge enough?!

What does she mean?!



   

                   

Hullo, it's Hamlet.



   

                   

Hello, all. Doctor, Anna.



   

                   

Mother, may I say

you look very well?



   

                   

You owe me two cases--

no, three cases--



   

                   

l'll put them in the car

before you leave.



   

                   

Do you know the difference between

a Jewish mother and a Rottweiler?.



   

                   

Yes.



   

                   

- Poppy, you've lost weight.

- You noticed?



   

                   

Eventually the Rottweiler

lets go.



   

                   

We have coffee, we have cake,

we have sherry,



   

                   

we have indigestion

just looking at it.



   

                   

He doesn't eat.



   

                   

- He has my delicate system.

- He should come and see me.



   

                   

- Hello.

- Hey, sis.



   

                   

Excellent, you brought

the brood.



   

                   

- Hi, sweetie.

- Hello.



   

                   

- Hello.

- Hey, Max.



   

                   

- Hello there.

- Hello. Poppa.



   

                   

? Happy Birthday to you

Happy Birthday to you ?



   

                   

? Happy Birthday, dear Paulie ?



   

                   

? Happy Birthday to you. ?



   

                   

All: Yeah!



   

                   

- Plates, please--

- Plates, please.



   

                   

Would you like some cake?



   

                   

Thank you for your plate.



   

                   

Such a lovely boy.



   

                   

As I was saying, Max,

it's a bubble, a chimera.



   

                   

Everybody and his mother wants

to be a speculator these days,



   

                   

and nobody knows

what they're doing.



   

                   

Never been in it in my life,

you know that.



   

                   

Not productive.



   

                   

All anybody wants to talk about

today is the market.



   

                   

Such a bore.



   

                   

How's your sentimental life?



   

                   

Torrid. Yours?



   

                   

Arid, but sunny.



   

                   

And how is

your sentimental life?



   

                   

That's not a penis,

is it?



   

                   

l think she might be

dreaming of one.



   

                   

You have much more fun

in your day than we had in mine.



   

                   

Men!



   

                   

l have terrible news.



   

                   

Our government, if you can

call this group of Jews,



   

                   

homosexuals, and draft dodgers

a government,



   

                   

has accepted a peace

in Versailles,



   

                   

a piece so unjust, it will

surely lead to another war,



   

                   

thank God.

Thank God,



   

                   

because an army at peace

is like a whore at mass--



   

                   

no bloody good to anyone.



   

                   

So men, I want you

on the street today,



   

                   

and here's the message:

"Stabbed in the back."



   

                   

By who, sir?.



   

                   

- Who said that?

- Me.



   

                   

Doesn't matter.

Doesn't matter.



   

                   

What matters is that Germany

is absolved from having



   

                   

lost the war and prepared

to wage the next one.



   

                   

Fellow loses a game,

he doesn't want to play anymore.



   

                   

You tell him he lost

because someone else cheated,



   

                   

then you have to hold him back

from picking up the cards again.



   

                   

Just remember,



   

                   

the army is the only vital

element of our society.



   

                   

War is vitality.



   

                   

War is the hygiene

of the world.



   

                   

Yes?



   

                   

( singing in German )



   

                   

( gunshot )



   

                   

( gunshot )



   

                   

( gunshot )



   

                   

- Versailles, no, no, no.

- The treaty is unfair.



   

                   

Versailles, no, no, no.



   

                   

Germany for the Germans.



   

                   

- What are they saying?

- Versailles.



   

                   

Give us back our land!



   

                   

They're saying Versailles.



   

                   

"Here are the terms

of the treaty of Versailles.



   

                   

Germany is to cede

Alsace-Lorraine to France--"



   

                   

What?



   

                   

"--Upper Silesia and West

Prussia to Poland."



   

                   

- Poland?

- "The army will be reduced to        men.



   

                   

France will occupy

the Rhineland



   

                   

for the next    years



   

                   

and Germany will assume a war

debt of    million gold marks."



   

                   

There aren't    million marks

in this entire country.



   

                   

"Furthermore,



   

                   

Germany is to sign



   

                   

a so-called war guilt clause



   

                   

in which she assumes



   

                   

sole responsibility

for the war."



   

                   

l'm ashamed to be German today.



   

                   

- Hey.

- Hey.



   

                   

There's a meeting

down the street.



   

                   

l didn't serve,



   

                   

l just played the market.

l lost my arm in the crash.



   

                   

Come on, brother.



   

                   



...Alsace-Lorraine to France.



   

                   

This is disgusting!



   

                   

We are being stabbed

in the back!



   

                   

Just 'cause you take it

in the ass.



   

                   

- Stabbed in the back!

- This guy is full of shit.



   

                   

He works for the army.



   

                   

He's a provocateur.

And look at his muscle.



   

                   

- Bastards, fucking bastards.

- Let him be, boys, let him be.



   

                   

A provoc--



   

                   

A provac--?



   

                   

That's a French word,

isn't it?



   

                   

No wonder I can't get

my tongue around it.



   

                   

You ever notice

with chaps like this



   

                   

that their French

is really good?



   

                   

So's their Russian--



   

                   

better than their German,

actually.



   

                   

l'll tell you who I am,



   

                   

because l've got

nothing to hide.



   

                   

l'm a little man,

four years in the trenches.



   

                   

Don't speak French.



   

                   

Don't know the Latin.



   

                   

Never made it past corporal.



   

                   

Guess that's because I didn't

have a "von" before my name.



   

                   

You might say

l'm the unknown soldier



   

                   

just like you.



   

                   

- What do you think?.

- I think he's a nothing, sir.



   

                   

He's got a big mouth.



   

                   

- Gassed, almost went blind...

- You're right, he's a nothing.



   

                   

Perhaps that's his secret.



   

                   

Perhaps it's the age

of the nothing.



   

                   

Lots of lads got it worse.



   

                   

Now l'm back

looking for a job.



   

                   

Can't find one, though.



   

                   

- Paid    marks for a suit.

- You paid too much.



   

                   

That's what I said to the Jew

who sold it to me.



   

                   

l can see where

this is going.



   

                   

- Make no mistake,

- Nothing new, nothing new.



   

                   

Germany's greatest enemy



   

                   

lives within.



   

                   

Herr Rothman.



   

                   

Herr Rothman, l'm--

l'm honored.



   

                   

l happened to be

in the neighborhood, so--



   

                   

l'm sorry I left so--



   

                   

abruptly the other day.



   

                   

You know what they say

in Spain, don't you?



   

                   

No, I don't.



   

                   

lt's easy to fight the bull

from the barrera.



   

                   

Bullfighting

is completely immoral.



   

                   

- lt's vile and disgusting.

- No, no.



   

                   

lt means it's easier to be

a critic than an artist.



   

                   

What did you think

of my speech?



   

                   

Let's just say



   

                   

if you were to put

the same amount of energy



   

                   

into your art as you do

your speaking,



   

                   

you may have something going.



   

                   

l best be on my way.



   

                   

Hitler, come on, l'll buy you

a glass of lemonade.



   

                   

Come on.



   

                   

Where'd you get

the sunglasses?



   

                   

Progg and Fromm.

Try 'em.



   

                   

Chic.



   

                   

Very chic, Rothman.



   

                   

- Can I get another coffee? Strong.

- Waiter:. Yes, sir, l'll get it.



   

                   

So you're an anti-Semite?



   

                   

- - On the contrary, I admire the Jews.

- Really?



   

                   

Yes, they're very

intelligent people.



   

                   

There are intelligent ones

and not so intelligent ones...



   

                   

They're all intelligent because

they guard the purity of their blood.



   

                   

- What?

- The purity of the blood.



   

                   

Because the secret of the Jews

lies in their pure Jewish blood.



   

                   

That's why they're the mightiest

counterpart to the Aryan race.



   

                   

- What's the secret?

- ls your father Jewish?



   

                   

- Yes, he is.

- Mother?.



   

                   

Why not ask whether

she's a German?



   

                   

Mensch!

Of course your mom's Jewish.



   

                   

You're an awfully hard man

to like, Hitler,



   

                   

but l'm gonna try,



   

                   

because if l've learned anything

over the past four years,



   

                   

it's that we all

shit the same,



   

                   

scream the same,

and die the same.



   

                   

There's no need for vulgarity,

Rothman.



   

                   

l know where you've been



   

                   

and God knows we've all been

turned into assholes there.



   

                   

Listen to me well,



   

                   

you may not think

you're an anti-Semite,



   

                   

- but in fact you are.

- l'm not.



   

                   

But in this, as in all things,

there's a reason.



   

                   

Your own hero

Nietzsche



   

                   

said anti-Semitism is the ideology

of those who feel cheated.



   

                   

How do you know

Nietzsche's my hero?



   

                   

- You've obviously skimmed his ideas.

- I don't feel cheated.



   

                   

Excellent.

Then stop acting like it.



   

                   

Are you gonna smoke

another cigarette?



   

                   

- You just put one out.

- Exactly.



   

                   

Now where is my instinct,

my secret instinct



   

                   

for self-preservation,

l ask you?



   

                   

l've heard these theories

all my life.



   

                   

Blood science, eugenics,

it's rubbish.



   

                   

lt's complete nonsense,

it's kitsch.



   

                   

Put it out of your mind.



   

                   

lt's not modern,

it's not scientific.



   

                   

lt will hold you back

as an artist.



   

                   

Speaking of which,

how's your work coming along?



   

                   

And why are you making those

appalling speeches for the army?



   

                   

l'm just keeping

my hand in it.



   

                   

- Keeping your hand in what?

- The army is paying my expenses.



   

                   

So you don't actually

believe that rubbish.



   

                   

Don't tell me you're happy

with the "peace."



   

                   

- Hello, Max.

- Hello, Esther.



   

                   

How are you, sweetheart?



   

                   

l think the "peace"

is a travesty.



   

                   

But I don't think I can be

bothered to pick up



   

                   

the German banner from the mud

with my left arm.



   

                   

l gave at the office,

you know.



   

                   

Yes...



   

                   

yes, yes, you did.



   

                   

l'm thinking about writing

a book on politics, you know?.



   

                   

You're a man

of many talents.



   

                   

Where do you find

time to paint?



   

                   

Mensch, use your head.

l'm still in the army.



   

                   

l'm folding laundry.

l'm cleaning out the shithouses.



   

                   

Painting costs money.

l don't have a pot to piss in.



   

                   

Here's what

l'd like to do.



   

                   

l'd like to take some

of your work off consignment.



   

                   

Here's an advance against

your future sales.



   

                   

Spend it any way you like.



   

                   

Find yourself a nice girl.

Get drunk.



   

                   

Get out of politics.



   

                   

Rothman, you--



   

                   

you've saved my life.



   

                   

Maybe you're right.



   

                   

Maybe l've yet to find

my authentic voice.



   

                   

Maybe I should

get more modern.



   

                   

lf l'm to be completely

honest with myself,



   

                   

l've always admired some

of the ideas behind Cubism.



   

                   

Seems to me you have a great

affinity for ideas.



   

                   

ls that some clever way of

saying I have poor technique?



   

                   

Try not to be one of those

people who finds a slight



   

                   

in any compliment.



   

                   

l imagine it would just be

altogether too bourgeois



   

                   

to turn on the heat.



   

                   

On top of me.



   

                   

Below me.



   

                   

lnside of me.



   

                   

I am always by your side.



   

                   

l have to go.



   

                   

Half man, half doll.



   

                   

Every woman's dream.



   

                   

Bills, bills, bills, Fraulein.



   

                   

- Bills are so violent.

- Sorry, sorry--



   

                   

l couldn't stop him.



   

                   

There you are, Rothman.

Slept in late, did you?



   

                   

What are you doing?



   

                   

What do you mean,

what am I doing?



   

                   

You told me I had a show.



   

                   

A show?.

A show?.!



   

                   

l told you I would take some

of your work on consignment.



   

                   

They way I understand

that term is



   

                   

l keep some of your work

informally,



   

                   

"in trust" as it were



   

                   

and if I can move it,

l move it.



   

                   

How are you going

to "move it"



   

                   

if it's not up?



   

                   

Am I in your studio

looking over your shoulder?.



   

                   

No.



   

                   

So don't teach your grandmother

how to suck eggs.



   

                   

So you're not actually

going to show the work.



   

                   

No. And I will tell you why.



   

                   

"New Works" by Arp,



   

                   

Ernst, and Grosz

at Das Eisern Werk,



   

                   

November   th to December   th.



   

                   

So after December   th.



   

                   

Can we take it

one step at a time?



   

                   

Listen, Rothman,

l've lost four years.



   

                   

Yes, we all lost four years,



   

                   

some of us a little more.

Do you want a show?.



   

                   

l'd kill for you

if you gave me a show.



   

                   

Don't kill for me, please.

Just do what you do.



   

                   

Be anxious, be nervous.



   

                   

Tell me you're the unknown

soldier come back to haunt us,



   

                   

with your brush, with

your brush. Can you do that?



   

                   

'Cause that's what

you got to do.



   

                   

You've gotta take this pent up

stuff you're quivering with



   

                   

and you've gotta hurl it

onto the canvas.



   

                   

lt doesn't have to be good

and beautiful,



   

                   

it just has to be true.



   

                   

And even if it's a lie,

make it an interesting lie



   

                   

and l'll put it up,

l swear.



   

                   

You do think l'm talented,

don't you?



   

                   

l think there's something

rustling behind your curtain.



   

                   

Good bye.



   

                   

There are times--



   

                   

l have these terrible doubts.



   

                   

Paint them.



   

                   

Paint your doubts, really!



   

                   

Well? Well?



   

                   

One morning, I wish you'd just say,

"Good morning. How did you pass the night?



   

                   

The lovely Mrs. Rothman?

Your children in good health, I trust?"



   

                   

You're such a bourgeois.

Any news?



   

                   

Yes, l'm meeting an American

dentist. A big collector.



   

                   

Mensch!

That's good, isn't it?



   

                   

lf I see you anywhere

near that building,



   

                   

l will personally set fire

to your entire life's work.



   

                   

Speaking of which, when am l

going to see something new?.



   

                   

- Soon, soon.

- I need new things.



   

                   

l'm very motivated by newness.

Newness really does it for me.



   

                   

There's Dr. and Mrs. Levi.

Hello!



   

                   

Ah, Levi, huh? You'll make

the sale for sure, huh?



   

                   

What can one say

about Paul Klee



   

                   

that hasn't been said

    times before?



   

                   

And on the other end

of the spectrum,



   

                   

there's a young artist

l've discovered recently



   

                   

named Hitler.

Less aggressively modern perhaps,



   

                   

but a real example...



   

                   

of what I call

"Krieg Kunst."



   

                   

- War art?

- Precisely, Doctor, precisely.



   

                   

Not as mannered

or tutored as Max Ernst,



   

                   

but a very authentic voice

of the trenches.



   

                   

The voice of the everyman.



   

                   

The voice of

the unknown soldier.



   

                   

And as a gesture of solidarity

with Soviet constructivism,



   

                   

l would only ask five marks

for these pieces.



   

                   

Hard to go wrong

for five marks.



   

                   

What do you think,

darling?



   

                   



They bought the Ernst!



   

                   

Oh my God.



   

                   

l'm gonna die in some doorway



   

                   

like a dog in the street.

A complete unknown!



   

                   

Nonsense.



   

                   

l'm-- l'm   .



   

                   

l'm   !



   

                   

Could you put that out,

please?



   

                   

No, fuck you!

l'm in my own place.



   

                   

You want the truth?

l'll tell you the truth.



   

                   

You're a bit lazy.



   

                   

A chap like Ernst, up at

the crack of dawn, working.



   

                   

This Ernst,

what's he look like?



   

                   

- He's rather good looking.

- Rather like me, huh?



   

                   

Mm-huh.



   

                   

Eyes?



   

                   

- Light.

- Hello.



   

                   

Yes, but could you paint that?



   

                   

Of course I could.



   

                   

The man has no technique.



   

                   

Technique is not what makes

the painting interesting.



   

                   

What makes it compelling

is what Max Ernst reveals.



   

                   

You could almost say

he admits, confesses,



   

                   

about himself.



   

                   

Could you do that?



   

                   

Could you be so voluptuous

with yourself?.



   

                   

Hm-mm?



   

                   

l think so.



   

                   

The train is leaving

the station.



   

                   

One question remains:



   

                   

- Why aren't you on board?

- I don't know.



   

                   

l'm in your hands.



   

                   

Hand.



   

                   



l've been going to seances.



   

                   

Really?

That sounds progressive.



   

                   

Yes, it is. lt's most instructive

to learn how the old German Gods



   

                   

were usurped by the young

God of lsrael,



   

                   

the God of guilt,

the projection of slaves.



   

                   

- Sounds like lunch at my house.

- Always the joker, huh?



   

                   

Why are we here?



   

                   

What has this got

to do with modern art?



   

                   

Nothing, I just like it here.



   

                   

l thought you were gonna

teach me about modern art.



   

                   

lt's inhuman what they're doing

to these birds.



   

                   

- lt's inhuman.

- Why don't you set them free?



   

                   

That'd be a great art project.



   

                   

We'd have Chinese nightingales

in the park for years to come.



   

                   

They'd sing in the snow.



   

                   

And people would come

for miles around



   

                   

and they would be known

as Hitler's Nightingales.



   

                   

Are you on the spike?



   

                   

ls that what's wrong with you?



   

                   

Bloody hell!

Damn it!



   

                   

- Hullo, midgets.

- What are you doing, Dad?



   

                   

Dad said a bad word.



   

                   

You are a very clever girl,

Ada, love of my life.



   

                   

You're right.



   

                   

That's exactly what Dad has been

thinking about, "words."



   

                   

Good words...



   

                   

and bad words.



   

                   

Because words are magic.



   

                   

Sometimes I think the world

is strung together by words.



   

                   

Victory!



   

                   

Poppy?



   

                   

Yes, young man?



   

                   

ln the world upside down,



   

                   

what would we be doing now?.



   

                   

ln the world upside down,

we'd be having breakfast.



   

                   

And what would we have

for breakfast?



   

                   

ln the world upside down?

Let's see.



   

                   

For breakfast we'd have

grilled sole,



   

                   

green beans, new potatoes,



   

                   

plum pudding for dessert,

yum!



   

                   

And in the world upside down

right now I would say,



   

                   

l hate you, I hate you,

l hate you, Paulie.



   

                   

l'd loathe you beyond reason,

wouldn't l?



   

                   

Now go to sleep.



   

                   

And tomorrow we'll fly

around the sun together.



   

                   

( Nina singing lullaby )



   

                   

- He would be.

- Hello, darling.



   

                   

Hi, sweetheart.



   

                   

George Grosz, Adolf Hitler.



   

                   

My wife Nina.



   

                   

- You--

- Hello.



   

                   

- Grosz: Nice guy.

- Oh, he's a futurist.



   

                   

- Grosz: Really, what's his name?

- Hitler.



   

                   

- Never heard of him.

- You will. Are you ready?



   

                   

Nina: Oh, Hitler.

Are you a painter?.



   

                   

Yes, l'm an artist.



   

                   

You are a friend

of my husband's?



   

                   

Of sorts.



   

                   

ln August     

l volunteered for the army



   

                   

and was accepted

to my father's old regiment,



   

                   

the Light Hussars.



   

                   

l used to think we rode

into the war on horseback,



   

                   

but now I realize

that in fact



   

                   

we rode into the war

on words.



   

                   

Yes, my friend, words.



   

                   

lf the high command

had used nails



   

                   

to hammer our feet

to the mud,



   

                   

l think we would've found

a pair of pliers,



   

                   

passed them down the line



   

                   

and made a break for it,



   

                   

but the words,



   

                   

the words kept us rooted

to the ground.



   

                   

Now these are magical words,



   

                   

used in mass hypnosis.



   

                   

And if you would like

millions of young men



   

                   

to give up their lives

for your cause,



   

                   

you must first

learn these words.



   

                   

Repeat after me.



   

                   

The enemy



   

                   

is "the foe" or "the host."



   

                   

"The enemy is the foe

or the host."



   

                   

Danger



   

                   

is "peril."



   

                   

"Danger is peril."



   

                   

To be brave

is to be "gallant."



   

                   

"To be brave

is to be gallant."



   

                   

The dead--



   

                   

oh, yes, the dead,



   

                   

they're not "dead."



   

                   

They are "the fallen."



   

                   

One's chest

is one's "breast."



   

                   

To move quickly



   

                   

is to be "swift."



   

                   

A soldier is--



   

                   

A warrior.



   

                   

"A warrior."



   

                   

War is "strife."

Actions are "deeds."



   

                   

To die is to "perish."



   

                   

To sleep is to "slumber."



   

                   

The sky are the "heavens."



   

                   

Blood, "elan vital."



   

                   

And arms and legs...



   

                   

...are "noble limbs."



   

                   

Hey, soldier.



   

                   

Thank you.



   

                   



lt's disgusting!



   

                   

lt's revolting!



   

                   

That was a miscalculation of rare magnitude,

wouldn't you say?



   

                   

You're the dealer. They want you

to sell their paintings



   

                   

and make 'em rich, not scare

the fuckin' shit out of 'em.



   

                   

Darling, that wasn't Paulie's

cowboy hat, was it?



   

                   

What a masquerade he puts on.



   

                   

Hussar this,

father's regiment that.



   

                   

As German as you or l,



   

                   

butter wouldn't melt

in his mouth.



   

                   

Finagling himself,

throwing his money around.



   

                   

Finding himself a German whore

and of course all the while



   

                   

staying married in the faith.

Always working on the inside



   

                   

from the outside.



   

                   

Why, the patient looks

perfectly healthy.



   

                   

But then you look at the turd,

but really look at it,



   

                   

and then you see

the worms crawling around.



   

                   

There weren't any of the men

there, were there?



   

                   

No, no. Only artists

and the usual degenerates.



   

                   

- l'm sure they adored it.

- They hated it.



   

                   

They hated it!

They stood there like stiffs.



   

                   

lt went

over their head.



   

                   

This Rothman--

this--



   

                   

this Rothman--



   

                   

Rothman made

the whole war look



   

                   

small and pointless,

ridiculous, absurd.



   

                   

Don't despair, Junge.



   

                   

You've got your own talent,

you have to let it out.



   

                   

Let it out.



   

                   

...is essentially feminine,

it takes--



   

                   

- Hello.

- a strong masculine type.



   

                   

Rothman.



   

                   

What did you think?.



   

                   

The other night?

My disaster?.



   

                   

Did it remind you

of Ypres?



   

                   

- Or was it just rubbish?

- Yes, what did you think?.



   

                   

lt didn't remind me

of Ypres.



   

                   

No?



   

                   

What did it remind you of,

if anything?



   

                   

lt reminded me perhaps--



   

                   

perhaps,



   

                   

of a particularly



   

                   

disgusting



   

                   

and depraved dream

of Ypres.



   

                   

As opposed to the happy,



   

                   

glorious one.



   

                   

Exactly.



   

                   

Exactly!



   

                   

Which your piece implies

is ipso facto impossible.



   

                   

Listen to them, farting higher

than their asshole.



   

                   

What was that you said, Erich?



   

                   

- I said--

- Yes, I know what you said.



   

                   

My question



   

                   

was rhe-tor-i-cal.



   

                   

lt's a difficult word,

isn't it, Erich?



   

                   

Shall I ask you to spell it?



   

                   

Well, this was fun



   

                   

but duty calls

and I must mind the store.



   

                   

Can't give up the day job.



   

                   

We forgive you for a lot,

don't we?



   

                   

Forgive and forget, turn the other way

where others wouldn't.



   

                   

Nicht, Erich?

Nicht?



   

                   

My God, what philistines

you all are!



   

                   

Rothman.



   

                   

How's my career going?



   

                   

Slow. The whole market's

slow right now.



   

                   

Who are those gentlemen?



   

                   

- Guttersnipes.

- Don't seem very good company.



   

                   

l'm flirting

with politics again.



   

                   

lt's a party that promotes

the interests of the veteran,



   

                   

but sometimes you have to build

a base from the base.



   

                   

Do you?



   

                   

l'll just have to take

your word for that.



   

                   

Listen, do you want

to meet some girls?



   

                   

- Girls?

- Yes, Hitler, girls.



   

                   

Those brilliant creatures

who make you feel artistic



   

                   

without doing

a stitch of work.



   

                   

Come on.



   

                   

- Afternoon.

- Afternoon.



   

                   

So there were parts

of it you liked?



   

                   

l know you're more

of a patriot than I am.



   

                   

Where'd you come up with

the idea of the toys?



   

                   

My son.



   

                   

You should have children.

They give you good ideas.



   

                   

Ever consider the future,

Hitler?.



   

                   

The future? I think all

my work's based on the future.



   

                   

Yes, and what do you see?

Do you see fame,



   

                   

money, beautiful lovers?



   

                   

- I see myself teaching.

- Hm-mm.



   

                   

And you, Rothman?

How do you see the future?



   

                   

Look inside my pocket.



   

                   

"Would you die for

the mother-in-law land?"



   

                   

You're a menace, Rothman.



   

                   

l got another one for you.



   

                   

"War is the instrument



   

                   

with which the happy--"

no, no, reverse that.



   

                   

"War is the instrument by which

the unhappy turn the happy



   

                   

- into themselves."

- Mensch.



   

                   

Don't you know genius

and happiness go together



   

                   

about as well as

cheese and chalk?.



   

                   

Cheese and chalk.

Paint that.



   

                   

No, I disagree.



   

                   

You know that all great cultures

die from the same cause,



   

                   

blood poisoning.



   

                   

Don't you know that all great--

truly great art



   

                   

comes from the struggle--

the titanic, the epic,



   

                   

the eternal struggle.



   

                   

Are you saying all art

should be political?



   

                   

No, no, no, dear girl,



   

                   

l'm simply speaking

of the pure blood mixture.



   

                   

Everything depends

on blood mixture



   

                   

and the resultant drops

in racial levels.



   

                   

Hitler's very concerned

with blood.



   

                   

We think, we hope

it's a metaphor.



   

                   

He's a futurist. Doesn't he

sort of remind you of Marinetti?



   

                   

No, no.



   

                   

- He does a bit.

- What are you doing with this man?



   

                   

- He's the most horrible creature.

- He doesn't have any friends.



   

                   

Of course he doesn't have

any friends, he doesn't listen.



   

                   

- And this thing about blood.

- He had a bad war.



   

                   

No, darling, you had a bad war.

l'm sure he had a fine war.



   

                   

What do you

feel guilty about, Max?.



   

                   

l don't feel guilty.



   

                   

l think guilt is

a second-rate emotion.



   

                   

On the other hand,

when I came back from the war,



   

                   

l came back to my family,

and my bank account,



   

                   

my parents and the best care.

And he came back to nothing,



   

                   

but really nothing.



   

                   

- Clearly you do feel guilty.

- No, but I acknowledge the fact



   

                   

that I don't know what it's like

to come back to nothing.



   

                   

Darling, you're wrong.

You've come back to nothing



   

                   

and every day I see you turn

that into something so beautiful.



   

                   

l told him the other day

that his insane fucking ideas



   

                   

were holding him back

as an artist



   

                   

and he tries,

he really does,



   

                   

sometimes.



   

                   

Until tonight, of course,

but that's because he feels



   

                   

insecure being around

you two lovely ladies.



   

                   

Just remember,



   

                   

Florence Nightingale

died of syphilis.



   

                   

And that means what?



   

                   

Don't get too close

to your charity cases.



   

                   

You've got chocolate

all over your mouth.



   

                   

Thank you.

That's very nice of you.



   

                   

l just want to know what

he has in that briefcase,



   

                   

it's the second time

he went to the loo.



   

                   

He just left.



   

                   

Fucking bitches.



   

                   

( knock on door )



   

                   

Forget about it, Rothman.



   

                   

May l?



   

                   

The artist at home.



   

                   

What an artist you are.



    

                   

What a vision, so clear--

such focus.



    

                   

l almost feel guilty

asking you this,



    

                   

because I don't want to take

you away from your work,



    

                   

but for a while we've been

taking an interest



    

                   

in a small political party.

lt has     or     members.



    

                   

lt's called the National

Socialist Workers Party.



    

                   

Don't let the name fool you,

they are as socialist as you and me.



    

                   

We had a speaker

scheduled for them,



    

                   

but the fellow's

come down with a cold.



    

                   

So we were wondering if you'd be

persuaded to say a few words.



    

                   

But of course,



    

                   

l understand if

the muses are--



    

                   

David, what do you think

of the future?



    

                   

l think it's expensive.



    

                   

Max.



    

                   

- How are you?

- Fine. You look fine.



    

                   

Thank you.

ls that a fur bath?



    

                   

Yes. Yes, it is.

Yes it is.



    

                   

Gert is in good health,

l trust?



    

                   

Yeah, she's fine,

she's fine.



    

                   

So am l--

in the soup, as they say?



    

                   

No, no, no, the soup's good.

You're in the shit.



    

                   

Oh, that's nice.



    

                   

Max, this is serious.



    

                   

l know you're just careless,

but the tax people



    

                   

could easily take

a different position.



    

                   

Hm-mm.



    

                   

What do you suggest?



    

                   

l suggest we write them

a check right away



    

                   

and we plead forgetfulness

and artistic license.



    

                   

l can't, l'm skint.

l just gave George an advance.



    

                   

You promised you were gonna

run this as a business.



    

                   

Could you borrow

from your father?.



    

                   

No, I don't want

to bother him.



    

                   

Arrange for another loan

against Das Eisen Werk.



    

                   

lt's not so simple.



    

                   

The boys at the bank are gonna

want to know what it's for.



    

                   

Ask your dad.



    

                   

lt's so much simpler,

it's just a loan.



    

                   

- Hello, Fraulein.

- Hello.



    

                   

Good bye, Max.



    

                   

Good bye, David.



    

                   

What is it that your brother

calls the art business?



    

                   

Baked air.



    

                   

Baked air.

That is so...



    

                   

- great.

- Sorry l'm late, Herr Rothman.



    

                   

You know that horrible

little tramp who's always



    

                   

making you feel guilty?

Herr Hitler.



    

                   

He's making a speech near us,

where we live



    

                   

and I really think you should

hear what he has to say.



    

                   

lt's disgusting!



    

                   

We are being

stabbed in the back!



    

                   

We won this war!.



    

                   

Our boys fought like lions!



    

                   

Like lions!



    

                   

So why in the name

of Providence



    

                   

are we giving away

      square miles of land



    

                   

and abandoning six million

of our fellow Germans?!



    

                   

Because we have been



    

                   

stabbed in the back!



    

                   

By the profiteers



    

                   

and the maggots

and the parasites.



    

                   

And make no mistake,



    

                   

Germany's greatest enemy

lives within.



    

                   

Deutschlanders...!



    

                   

Deutschlanders...!



    

                   

Deutschlanders...!

Deutschlanders...!



    

                   

Deutschlanders...!



    

                   

Deutschlanders...!



    

                   

Ah, Rothman.



    

                   

There you are.



    

                   

Well, what do you think?.



    

                   

What can one say?



    

                   

This is...



    

                   

the new art.



    

                   

l realized something that

all you hoity-toity types missed



    

                   

drinking your coffee,



    

                   

smoking your cigarettes

with your mistresses.



    

                   

The way to reinvent art is not to make it

political-- far too small a step.



    

                   

No, Rothman,



    

                   

you could say you and I were

ploughing the same



    

                   

furrows for a while,



    

                   

but then I made

the bigger leap.



    

                   

Politics is the new art.



    

                   

Yes, Rothman,

my whole life



    

                   

has been a detour

to this moment.



    

                   

Everything l've struggled

to learn about art,



    

                   

about design, color,

composition,



    

                   

theater, opera,

architecture--



    

                   

l'm gonna stuff it all into this

and make it live again.



    

                   

l've always thought you to be

an intuitive futurist.



    

                   

You're so disappointing.



    

                   

Am I only acceptable to you

if you can classify me?



    

                   

Isn't that emblematic

of the world we both despise?



    

                   

What's happened to you?

You're suddenly so conventional.



    

                   

Go deeper, you said.



    

                   

Well, I went deep.



    

                   

l went deeper than any artist

has ever gone before!



    

                   

Where is the work, my dear?.



    

                   

Where is the evidence

of this journey into the abyss?



    

                   

I am the new avant garde!



    

                   

I am the new artist

practicing the new art!



    

                   

And politics

is the new art!



    

                   

Hello.



    

                   

Hello.



    

                   

You look pensive.



    

                   

No, no, no...

l was just thinking--



    

                   

Where are you going?



    

                   

l have to return

some drawings.



    

                   

And l'm being dragged

to shul again tonight.



    

                   

He just wants to get away

from your mother.



    

                   

Sometimes I think we're

all marching backwards.



    

                   

How do I rate?

As a partner?.



    

                   

Promising.



    

                   

Especially when you learn

to apply yourself.



    

                   

While on the subject, I hear

it takes more than one girl



    

                   

to tell you that

you're still handsome.



    

                   

But at a certain point...



    

                   

it starts to get

in the way...



    

                   

of--



    

                   

Progress?



    

                   

Exactly.



    

                   

You know, progress

really does it for me.



    

                   

l'll see you tonight.



    

                   

Well, l'm...



    

                   

sorry it didn't work out.



    

                   

Yes. Well, look, Rothman,



    

                   

you're a--



    

                   

- a--

- A what, Hitler?.



    

                   

You're a--



    

                   

a well-born

sort of person.



    

                   

By Caesarean, actually.



    

                   

A nice



    

                   

sort of person.



    

                   

There's a lot of people

in this country who don't like--



    

                   

well-born sorts.



    

                   

We'll just have to live

with that, won't we?



    

                   

What's this?



    

                   

- Some designs.

- Hm-mm.



    

                   

My God.



    

                   

That's certainly an alternative

to boring old modernism.



    

                   

This is some old



    

                   

new future world,

isn't it?



    

                   

Yes.



    

                   

This will be the symbol

for the whole movement,



    

                   

it's a Sanskrit symbol

for energy,



    

                   

for the sun,

but l've reversed it.



    

                   

Yeah this--

that l've seen before.



    

                   

Yes, but against

a white background?



    

                   

My God, you really worked

this out, didn't you?



    

                   

Down to the uniforms



    

                   

- and--

- Yes, I see.



    

                   

- And what kind of roads.

- Roads?



    

                   

Even in the more thickly

populated areas



    

                   

these large super roads

will create a sense



    

                   

of open space

and of flying.



    

                   

Hitler,

this is meant work.



    

                   

You finally found your voice.



    

                   

The future...



    

                   

as a return

to the past.



    

                   

You wouldn't show it,

would you?



    

                   

Yes.



    

                   

l will.



    

                   

Because this work--



    

                   

well--



    

                   

this work



    

                   

belongs in a gallery.



    

                   

You're not pulling my leg,

are you? Because--



    

                   

l do have a career

in politics, you know.



    

                   

Well, Hitler,

what would you rather do?



    

                   

Change the way people see

or how they pay their taxes?



    

                   

Meet me at Metropole,

 :  .



    

                   

Bring everything,

the whole shmear.



    

                   

He's created this

whole new world



    

                   

and he has all these

flags and drawings



    

                   

with these Teutonic

references.



    

                   

That doesn't sound

very futuristic.



    

                   

No, but you can't say

it's not a coherent vision,



    

                   

down to detailed notes

on his foreign policy.



    

                   

He's created these epic roadways

where the traveler



    

                   

will experience

the feeling of flight.



    

                   

He's resurrected all

the German gods



    

                   

and it's all complete kitsch

from "A" to "z."



    

                   

lt's very interesting,

it's future kitsch.



    

                   

- God, he sounds mad.

- Oh, he's barking



    

                   

and what he's pushing makes the Kaiser

seem like a Sunday painter.



    

                   

- I saw him speak.

- That sounds a bit of a worry.



    

                   

No, he's dreadful. He just stands there

shouting slogans and posing



    

                   

and the whole thing's

like a giant art project.



    

                   

Of course the minute I said

l'd show him--



    

                   

- Politics went out the window.

- Exactly.



    

                   

lt's gonna be a big show,

a big, big, show.



    

                   

- l'm gonna bring in some English artists--

- You can't afford it.



    

                   

--French ones. There's this

character called Duchamp,



    

                   

he's very interesting.

He does things with urinals



    

                   

and wine racks-- says in

the future, everything is art.



    

                   

Ah, the meshugener show.



    

                   

Poppy!



    

                   

The future is subversive.



    

                   

And I don't want to see

any stiffs up front.



    

                   

Yesterday there was nothing

but stiffs. I never got going.



    

                   

l don't have any control

over who's in front.



    

                   

Mensch, are you daft?



    

                   

This is about control.

That's the thing about art--



    

                   

you don't just

slap on the paint,



    

                   

even if it looks that way.



    

                   

l need more enthusiasm

up front.



    

                   

l need the energy,

it's like a loop.



    

                   

They give it to me,

l give it to them,



    

                   

they give it to me.

Could you put that out, please?



    

                   

lt bothers my voice.



    

                   

And this is the last time.



    

                   

- No more.

- What are you talking about?



    

                   

- l'm through.

- You're through?



    

                   

Find somebody else.



    

                   

Rothman's gonna

give me a show.



    

                   

Rothman?

Rothman?



    

                   

Max Rothman?



    

                   

Are you mad?



    

                   

You think Herr Rothman

will lift a finger for you?



    

                   

You have one of the most

authentic Germanic voices



    

                   

l've ever heard.

And you're    years old.



    

                   

lt's now or never.

What are you waiting for?.



    

                   

They are your canvas.



    

                   

That's your paint.

What are you waiting for?.



    

                   

Let it out.



    

                   

Let it out!



    

                   

( praying in Hebrew )



    

                   

Today--



    

                   

today...



    

                   

l will address something

central to my thinking!



    

                   

Today, I will address



    

                   

the Jewish question!



    

                   

Not long ago

l was strolling



    

                   

when I suddenly encountered

an apparition



    

                   

in a black caftan



    

                   

and black hair locks!



    

                   

My first question was,



    

                   

"ls this a Jew?."



    

                   

And then the more I stared,



    

                   

the more my first question



    

                   

assumed a new form,



    

                   

"ls this a German?!"



    

                   

No.



    

                   

 ls there any

form of filth,



    

                   

particularly in cultural life

without a Jew involved in it?!



    

                   

Because when you cut

into an abscess,



    

                   

what do you find?!



    

                   

Like maggots

in a rotting body,



    

                   

a kike!



    

                   

 With the appearance

of the first settlement,



    

                   

the Jew is suddenly

at hand!



    

                   

The stranger is given

a friendly reception!



    

                   

He soon becomes

an active part



    

                   

of the economic life

of the settlement!



    

                   

He begins to lend money!



    

                   

Now the Jew

is a steady resident!



    

                   

Commerce and finance have become

his complete monopoly!



    

                   

He begins a second phase



    

                   

where he begins to emphasize

his Judaism less



    

                   

and his Germanism more!



    

                   

Yes, he becomes,

if you can believe it,



    

                   

Germanic!



    

                   

Culturally he contaminates



    

                   

art and literature!

Theater!.



    

                   

Religion ridiculed!



    

                   

Ethics and morality



    

                   

pissed on!



    

                   

German girls



    

                   

turned into whores!



    

                   

Whores!



    

                   

The Jew casts off

his final cloak



    

                   

and becomes



    

                   

the blood Jew!



    

                   

The tyrant becomes

the vampire of nations!



    

                   

The vampire of the people

of Deutschland!



    

                   

Blood Jew!

Blood Jew!



    

                   

- Blood Jew!

- Blood Jew!



    

                   

- The blood Jew!

- Blood Jew!



    

                   

- Blood Jew!

- Blood Jew!



    

                   

Blood Jew!

Blood Jew!



    

                   

Blood Jew! Blood Jew!



    

                   

Blood Jew! Blood Jew!



    

                   

- You coming for supper?.

- Mm-mm.



    

                   

No. I have to meet someone

at the Metropole at  :  .



    

                   

- Can I drop you?

- No, l'd like to walk.



    

                   

l should get more exercise.



    

                   

- l'm seeing a hypnotist Monday.

- That's good.



    

                   

- Are you sure I can't drop you?

- Kiss Mammy for me.



    

                   

Oh God.



    

                   

Leave him.

He's finished.







 
Special help by SergeiK